Hope was the most debilitating villain Caroline had ever encountered. When she'd first made Alaric's acquaintance the girl assumed that in a few weeks Alaric would have gotten his revenge and she'd be free.
Unfortunately, Caroline couldn't have been more wrong. While she may have been living up to her end of the bargain—initiating conversation and contact with her captor—Alaric was most definitely shrinking from his responsibilities.
Every night Caroline spent a prisoner her heart grew heavier. Klaus tried to spin the story, tell her it was better this way. A woman such as herself could never survive in the cruel world alone. She needed him. He was so caught up in his own world he hadn't seen how wrong he was.
Being in Klaus's clutches wasn't saving her, but rather destroying everything she once stood for. She wanted to be free, independent, able to choose her own path, but none of that could happen as she spent each night placating a Viking.
Caroline supposed her life could have turned out worse. She'd heard tales of women being taken against their will, and she was blessed that the lord had not yet allowed such a thing to happen to her. Perhaps Damon might have done it, had he not seen her as so pathetic and unworthy of his attentions.
It was unexplainable the impact the eldest Salvatore's words still had on her. When unwillingly tucked into Klaus's embrace it was all Caroline could think about: how she would never be a respectable woman with an honorable husband living an average life. All she'd ever wanted was to feel loved, something she'd never gotten from her parents or her friends—yet, this was the life the world had in store for her.
Listening to hostile takeovers, the moans of whores as Klaus's men took their pleasure from the women they found on the streets, and the unyielding cries of the Vikings' victims, was so unsettling that not even the constancy of the star overhead could calm Caroline. She needed for Klaus to let her go, but if she brought it up, he was no longer offended by it, but rather laughed it off as a joke.
"What would you do with your freedom?" He'd asked one night, genuinely curious.
"I don't know, I've never really had it." She'd mused, thinking back to a comment her mother had made when she was little about women being slaves to society.
"Well, then what could you possibly want it for? You can't desire something you never had." The smirk on his face would have been enough to drive Caroline to murder had it not been for her extreme disadvantage.
"Can't I? Isn't it human nature to want a better life?" The spark that arose in her eyes when she was passionate about something was thrilling to Klaus—one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen.
"Your life is fine, sweetheart. You're protected, fed, and you know that I would never hurt you."
It was when he said things like that that Caroline began to wonder if he truly was mentally impaired.
In what world aren't you hurting me, she wanted to yell, how can you justify keeping me around like a cow you intend to slaughter? Why is my life worth so little that you can bend it for your convenience?
But since those words would most likely get her killed she'd simple mumbled, "I know," and dropped the conversation before he inevitably lashed out at her.
Yet, as hard as it may have been to wait for a better life, it wasn't the main reason she wanted to get out. There was something more to Klaus than the Viking who killed and terrorized villagers. There was a man. He was broken and battered, but most importantly he was human.
That was the worst part, for it is easy to despise the devil but it's difficult to hate a sinner. To know that something had happened in Klaus's life that could twist him and mold him into the kind of man who could not only perform the actions that he did, but justify them, made Caroline lose what little faith she had in the good of humanity.
How was she supposed to hate Klaus when she saw the scars upon his back, marks similar to the ones she'd seen on the people in her village who had been whipped for their crimes? Caroline could despise what he'd done all day long, and although she couldn't forgive him for the position he'd put her in, she no longer loathed him unconditionally. The girl was seeing the man being the monster, and it was terrifying.
That was why at her next meeting with Alaric she refused to tell him any of the gossip she'd gathered before she knew his plan.
"I can't do this anymore, 'Ric, I need out." She'd said it almost every time they'd seen one another but this time the desperation in her voice was overwhelming.
"Good things—"
"Come to those who wait, I know. Stop trying to stall me and tell me the plan." Caroline said, stomping her foot like a petulant child.
"If we don't wait until the time is right you won't have to worry about your freedom, but rather your life."
He was cryptic and vague, which were both tactics Damon had used when trying to manipulate Caroline. From experience the blonde knew that when offered few details her mind would try to fill in the blanks, and often her imagination landed her far from the truth.
"I get that you're angry, Klaus 'took something from you,' but that doesn't mean I can be your, your minion forever."'
"My wife." Alaric grumbled, knowing that he'd have to tell her this story eventually, but he was hoping for later rather than sooner.
"I'm sorry?" Caroline asked, confused.
"Are you going to talk the whole way through, or are you going to listen to what I'm about to tell you?"
When she opened her mouth to agree to be quiet, Alaric gave her a look that could send chills down even Satan's spine.
"My wife," he began again looking anywhere but at the blonde in front of him, "was the most resilient person I ever knew. She went through hard times as a young girl, had a baby out-of-wedlock, but eventually she overcame. When I met her I cared not that her innocence was tainted because I loved her, she was my other half."
He stopped for a long while searching the trees above for some sort of answer. Just when Caroline thought he wasn't going to start again he continued.
"In the last few months of our marriage, Isobel grew distant. She started working more and sleeping less. She grew restless, and just when I thought things were going to get better, Klaus and his men pillaged our village."
When Alaric finally brought his eyes to meet her's they were cold and empty.
"I lost the only woman I could ever love that day, and as I searched for the only piece of her that was left in this world—her daughter—it turned out Klaus had already taken that from me as well."
"What—?" Caroline began, forgetting her unspoken promise of silence.
"Her daughter had been put up for adoption, all I had was a name, Elena, and eventually I was led to your village, but it was too late."
Caroline let out an audible gasp, she knew Elena was adopted but she never would've thought—just then Alaric's words came crashing down on her.
"What did Klaus do to Elena?" She feared the question, because a part of her already knew the answer.
"Elena's dead, and you have your friend Klaus to thank for that."