A/N- Here we go everyone, a nice, very long chapter beginning with a happy flashback. Also I'm participating in NaNoWriMo under the name At the other end of the world. I'm rewriting Alpha Female for general audiences but if anyone else is participating on here, pm me or buddy up with me on the site.
Flashback
It is a month after their impromptu introduction when they see each other again.
His mother had decided to host a Spring Garden Gala and, with Mikael refusing to attend such 'frivolous fairs', Elijah had been in the receiving line, shaking hands and murmuring pleasantries when he had spotted the familiar face.
Twice.
A quick glance has him almost certain that the one closest to him is the Lady Katerina, with her curled hair and charming smile.
Also the way the faintest blush comes to her cheeks when he takes her hand and she curtseys to him,
"Your highness," she murmurs through upturned lips, "So lovely to see you again."
"Yes," he finds himself agreeing, "And I even managed to put on a shirt for the occasion."
She giggles and then glances cautiously over her shoulder to where the Queen is in conversation with her parents and younger sister, before turning back to him and stepping slightly closer,
"You should know that I haven't told anyone about that," she swears, speaking quickly in a low voice,
"And I won't, I swear."
He blinks in surprise and his grip on her hand slackens,
"Thank-you." He murmurs earnestly but she's already moving away, into the gala proper in a sweep of her pastel pink gown.
In spite of his duties to his mother, he finds his mind wandering that afternoon, replaying their first meeting over and over, interrupted only by intercuts of their conversation.
She had sworn to protect his dignity.
She could have bragged to everyone that she had seen the Crown Prince half-naked. She wouldn't have been the first to have lauded such an event with pride, at the very least she would have at least been telling the truth, unlike quite a few who made the same claim. When Elijah was fifteen he had been in love with a classmate to whom he had lost his virginity, a year later she had sold the story to the tabloids and once he had graduated high school, returned to the Royal Court and allowed greater freedoms, well…it had seemed that every week some new woman would be claiming to be his one night stand or his girlfriend. Women he'd barely smiled at or he'd never even met, women who went public and described their fictitious encounter with such sordid eroticism that he felt violated. Women who damaged any chance he had of any healthy relationship.
Yet, this young woman, barely more than a girl, would not say a word.
He decides- rather uncharitably- that she must simply be unaware of the opportunity before her, she is rather young after all, fifteen if he remembers correctly, and sets his mind on speaking to her further.
It is another hour before he manages to get away, his mother had invited every eligible high-ranking woman in the Court and every last one of them want their chance to woo the Crown Prince.
Lady Katerina herself had snuck away from the party, he finds her sitting on the edge of the small fountain in the shadow of the hedge maze, her fingers dangling in the water, teasing the goldfish.
"Careful," he warns as he approaches, "Legend has it that my great-grandfather put flesh-eating eels in all the fountains and that we never able to clear them all out."
Lady Katerina's head shoots up in surprise and she laughs, she has an infectious laugh that makes him want to join in as well.
But what kind of man laughs at his own jokes?
He stuffs his hands into his pockets and stands before her, rocking back on his heels awkwardly, not entirely sure how to begin the conversation,
"I did want to thank you," he says suddenly, cursing inwardly at the idiotic way he had phrased that,
"For promising not to tell anyone about seeing me undressed, it does mean a lot to me."
She blushes at his attention and gratitude, her head dropping down and her curls falling over her shoulders,
"It was a private moment," she murmurs demurely, "It would be mean to tell other people about it."
The Lady Katerina was mindful of his feelings? Well, she was a rarity indeed.
"Are you enjoying the gala?" he asks, politely navigating the conversation back to more appropriate topics but she makes an unhappy face,
"No," she says forcefully, "Not in the slightest."
He is surprised and frowns, moving forward without even realising and resting his foot beside her on the fountain edge, "Might I ask why?"
She shrugs, betraying her youth, "I'm only the granddaughter of a baron, and Roma at that. Most of the people here my age refuse to talk to me when their parents are around, so I came out here…" she looks around with a shrug, "I've always wondered if I could make it through this maze."
Elijah doesn't want to return to the gala either, for entirely different reasons but he checks his watch and then steps back with a smile,
"Perhaps I could come with you?" he offers, "Give you a few hints in case you get lost."
She perks up, obviously surprised but after a moment nods eagerly, "But only if I get lost."
They slip into the world of towering hedge and near silence, grass underneath their feet- having been planted by a truly sadistic gardener to make it harder for people to find their way back. He clasps his hands behind him and watches Katerina. She is glowing with excitement and curiosity, eager to see what was around each corner. Her eyes noting little differences to be used as markers.
He smiles as she skips ahead and waits impatiently at the next fork for him, her shoe tapping ever so slightly as she brims with energy. He almost slows his steps to see if her excitement will cause her to forget herself further but instead he keeps his pace so as not to prolong her suffering. She looks at the two paths before them before choosing the right one and rushing down it, smiling in triumph when she sees the small statue of cupid hidden in the hedge.
"Are you running away from me?" he jests as she once again skips away and turns gracefully on her heel, her dress flying around her knees,
"Well…" she teases out the word, "I wasn't going to, but if you insist."
She giggles and begins running, disappearing around a corner and for a moment he is struck by uncertainty, knowing what she expects of him but weighed down by the duties of his station.
His steps are slow at first, hesitant, as if his body is aware of his transgression and afraid of the consequence but his natural athleticism takes over and he is moving easily, catching up to her quickly as she laughs with delight and tries to trick him by feinting left and then scampering down the right path, emerging through one of the exits into the enclosed paths leading to the small pond. In that moment, all he is thinking about is the smell of the lavender growing along the wooden trellises, the sensation of his shoes hitting the ground and the girl in the pink dress before him, darting just out of his reach. Elijah deliberately lets her outrun him and she seems to realise this,
"You're supposed to catch me." She points out laughingly as they leave the path,
"The game will be over then."
And he doesn't want it to end. He is a twenty-year old man playing chase with a fifteen-year-old girl but he is having fun. He is enjoying the moment where the only thing that matters is that the day is warm and they can simply be.
Katerina slows to a stop and breathes deeply, he stands a little way from her and they glance at each other before looking away, each with a smile.
"Thank-you for distracting me." she says as she sinks onto the bench beside the pond, arranging her dress and he walks around to sit beside her,
"Well…you didn't seem at all happy, and it was the least I could do," he replies before smirking,
"You're far too young to be so unhappy."
She faces him with all the outraged dignity of a young woman,
"I'll have you know that I'm almost sixteen," she glares without malice,
"Some of the greatest minds to have ever existed were utterly miserable at my age."
He chuckles, "Oh forgive me, in my decrepitude of twenty, almost twenty-one, I forgot how mature sixteen truly is."
She sniffs and turns away, clearly fighting a smile as her shoulders shake with amusement,
"And is there any wisdom or advice that your grand twenty years can bestow on me?"
He shrugs carelessly, "Focus on your studies, treasure your friends, pursue your interests and don't let some stupid, archaic prejudices make you feel unwelcome at Court."
She accepts his cliché counsel with a smirk but moments later, tilts her head curiously,
"And love?" she asks, "What would you say about that?"
He grimaces, a shadow falling over his face and his happiness, "I do not believe in love."
"Now that is too sad to accept," she turns her body to face him, "Life is too cruel, if we cease to believe in love than why would we want to live?"
He can offer a dozen, maybe even one hundred arguments against that simplistic statement, he could point out how, at its core, attraction was a chemical reaction in the brain and that hearts did not actually feel or hold any emotion, they were organs designed to keep the body alive.
But he suspects that she knows all this, after all, she was ranked first in her class, clearly she is intelligent; and still she chooses to believe in love.
So who is he to try and ruin that for her?
"Perhaps you're right," he says, "Shall we agree to disagree?"
She shakes her head, "No, not until you accept that love is real and that anyone is capable of finding it."
He stands and she rises quickly to her feet, keeping her eyes on him the entire time and he regards her with the slightest crease in his brow,
"Why does it matter to you whether I believe in love or not?"
She exhales and her shoulders drop while she considers that question,
"Because the thought of you unhappy makes me sad," She decides, before looking past him towards the Palace,
"I think the music's stopped, should we go back?"
They should.
But he doesn't want to.
"Allow me to escort you," he holds out his arm, "Let's see anyone willing to snub a friend of the Crown Prince."
She slips her hand in his arm with a tentative smile, "Am I your friend?"
"I hope so." He answers truthfully and her smile brightens,
"Me too." She says as they make their way back to the gala.
Elijah lays in his bed and ignores the clock striking the half hour.
His phone is buzzing, his alarm set for seven am every morning and every five minutes afterwards until he turns it off.
If it vibrates any longer it will likely fall off the stand to the floor and maybe crack the screen.
Yet he can't bring himself to get up and answer its call.
He can't bring himself to do anything but stare at the canopied ceiling of his bed.
Today was the day of his father's funeral.
King Mikael's funeral.
Today was the day that his bedroom- the King's bedroom- would be officially cleared of the last of his belongings and tomorrow, the servants would begin preparing the room for the next king.
Him.
One morning soon, he would wake up in his rooms for the last time and hours later would go to sleep in the King's chambers.
He would have to sleep in the bed of his ancestors, all the Kings and Queens before him and hope that their ghosts didn't wake him up at night.
How could he possibly manage that?
He's distracted from his musings by a gentle rap at the door,
"Your Majesty?"
He pulls himself up into a sitting position, "Enter."
His page comes in and bows, "Good morning, Your Majesty."
"Is it?" he asks, harsher than he had intended and the poor man pales, clearly worried that in one sentence he's risked his entire career, but Elijah waves his hand and pushes back the covers,
"I'll be ready in half an hour, tell my siblings to come to my rooms for breakfast."
Four pale, tired faces met his as he stepped into his dining room, all of them dressed in their black funeral attire which didn't complement any of them in any way.
Elijah opens his mouth to greet them but realises that he doesn't know what to say and how to sound like he means it, so instead, he looks to the food on the table,
"Eat well, all of you," he instructs, "It'll be several hours before we have the chance to eat again."
They settle around the table, Niklaus taking a seat beside him, "Will Katerina be joining us?"
He shakes his head, "She'll join us just before we leave but is breakfasting at the Cousin's Palace with her family."
Rebekah made a delicate noise in her throat, "They're all probably too busy dancing for joy to be focused on food."
Annoyed at that remark, Elijah puts his cutlery down with a clatter,
"Rebekah, my fiancée and her family would not be so crass as to outwardly celebrate the death of the King, no matter what they stand to gain from it, please refrain from slandering their nature in such a manner."
He doesn't argue that the Petrova's would be mourning Mikael's death because he doesn't see the need to blatantly lie to his sister's face. Thankfully she decides to jump topics,
"Why haven't you issued Finn and Freya's invitations to your Court yet?" she asks,
"They're our family and should be with us during this time."
Elijah looks down at his breakfast, the eggs, salmon, croissants and cold meats. All delicious and all filling but now his appetite is quickly fleeing under Rebekah's attitude.
"Sister," he sighed, "I have not issued invitations to our half-siblings because I have not issued invitations to anyone yet. The Court will be closed after the funeral for a month, as per tradition and I will issue invitations after I am crowned. I haven't even thought about the list yet so if you would be so kind to wait until after the King's funeral, I would be most grateful."
"Our father you mean." Rebekah retorted quietly into her cup of tea and Elijah momentarily contemplates having her locked in her rooms for the day.
"It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day," Niklaus interrupted quickly and loudly,
"Cold but clear, no chance of rain which will be good for the people on the streets."
The rest of them, grasping this opportunity with both hands, launch into a lengthy discussion about the weather for the day and the chances of the upcoming winter being colder than usual.
Elijah contemplates his sister's sudden devotion to their irritating half-siblings but brushes it off, deciding that she was likely just still emotional over the loss of their father and clinging to the memory of him in Finn and Freya.
Katherine stood at the window of her antechamber and watched the square below.
Already it was filled with citizens and journalists who were beginning their coverage of the funeral, their cameras pointed at the Royal Palace. At the behest of the Press team, large screens were being set up in every major square in the city showing the interior of the Royal Temple, so that the people and indeed the world at large could witness the ceremony.
"Have you eaten yet?"
She turns around to see her mother having entered without knocking and feels a surge of irritation at the intrusion but lets it go and shakes her head,
"I'm not hungry."
Miranda sighs, "That is not what I asked, it's a long day Katerina and the eyes of the world will be on you, do you want them to see you pale or faint from hunger and judging you for not looking perfect?"
"Perhaps they'll think I'm grief stricken?" she challenges but her mother ignores her and summons a page standing in the state room,
"Please send to the kitchens for Katerina's breakfast," she orders as if she's anything more than a guest in the Palace,
"And tell the hairdresser to come in now."
The hairdresser.
It had been decided that, while having a full make-up team come to prepare her for the funeral would be gauche and offensive, a hairdresser was an absolute must.
Miranda had also chosen Katherine's outfit for the day and she wants to suggest that her mother should perhaps just go in her place, stand beside the King as her proxy, if she couldn't be trusted to do it herself.
As if, in spite of everything, she hadn't already got them to this point.
Caroline comes in just as Katherine stands back from the mirror, her hair freshly done and her curls shining, she is wearing one of the many black dresses that had been sent over by various fashion houses yesterday for Katherine and which she had gifted to her. Her hand is running nervously over her neck and Katherine notices a familiar white pearl choker.
"Ummm….Elena gave me this to wear," she holds the pearls from her neck uncertainly,
"Is that okay?"
Miranda has been watching the hairdresser like a hawk, standing over Katherine's shoulder like a spectre in the blue bathroom as she sat before the mirror, nibbling on the food self-consciously. She looks around now with a false smile,
"You look stunning my dear, and pearls suit your neck so well."
Katherine remembers Stefan gifted Elena the choker in New York and figures that it wasn't Salvatore heirloom jewellery so Giuseppe wouldn't suffer a fit over the casual sharing of his daughter-in-law's possessions with a personal assistant.
"You look great," she tells her friend earnestly, "And you'll be fine."
Caroline exhales carefully and checks the phone in her hand, "So…I looked up the ceremony but I'm not sure about where I'm supposed to be standing."
"With me and my family," Katherine decides and shoots her mother a pointed glare, warning her to stay silent,
"You're my friend and traditionally speaking would stand with me anyway."
Miranda checks her watch and delicately clears her throat, "It's time for us to head over dear," she lays a gentle hand on Caroline's arm,
"Come along, Katerina will be joining us later after she's seen the King."
Katherine rolls her eyes, scoffing at her mother's determination to brag even in Katherine's own rooms to her own personal assistant.
However, her mother is right and it is time for them to leave.
The mood in the Palace could best be described as feigned sombreness, courtiers were lingering in the public areas, all of them dressed in the latest fashions, their clothes black but designer and the jewels they were wearing were discreet by their standards but still small fortunes. They were talking in low voices but their eyes were jealously noting every inch of one another and when Katherine made her way towards Elijah's rooms she could hear them gossiping over the upcoming Invitation list and their chances of being at the Winter Court.
She moves quickly, too quickly for anyone to stop her and start a conversation in the hopes of catching her attention or winning her favour.
Today, her focus is on her fiancé.
When she approaches the Royal Residences, the page spots her and immediately opens the door and doesn't announce her,
"You have permission to enter without formality," he explains and she's smiling at the thought that Elijah had allowed her this honour as she finds her fiancé standing in the hallway while a gathering of attendants' swarm around him and his family.
Rebekah, the young girl looking immaculate, is tapping away on her phone and, because clearly she's a masochist, Katherine walks over to her and braces herself,
"Good morning." she greets politely, holding her breath as Rebekah's head shoots up, she takes in Katherine's black Givenchy jacket, her Tom Ford black pumps and, as always, her eyes dart to her ring finger, as if hoping that one day the engagement ring will have magically disappeared.
"What are you doing here?" she snaps, "This is a private family moment, and I didn't hear you announced!"
Rebekah had never liked Katherine. She had always looked down her nose at the Petrova family as ambitious and greedy, but there had been a time, one golden day when she had been friendly towards her, believing that she would make her brother Kol happy.
And when that had been violently disproven, she had called her a gold-digging whore to her face and sworn eternal enmity.
Katherine understood the reasoning behind Rebekah's hatred but she had hoped that five years might cool it off slightly.
Apparently not.
"Elijah gave me permission to enter without ceremony," she explains, "And he asked me to be here this morning."
Rebekah glares over at Elijah, who was looking down at a tablet while listening to Aiden, he glances up and seeing Katherine, smiles and holds up a finger asking her to wait one moment. With a small thrill of triumph, she turns back to Rebekah, "See?"
"You could at least have not come in smiling with glee." Rebekah sniffs before turning on her heel and storming off.
She storms into one of the many receiving rooms and snatches the door from the page, so that she can slam it closed to display her anger and the buzz in the room dies down as the servants all hesitate, on the tips of their toes, assuming that they're about to be dismissed.
Elijah sighs and looks to his brothers expectantly,
"I'll go after her," Kol volunteers, giving her a weary look as he goes past,
"You look beautiful, Katty," he murmurs, kissing her on the cheek in greeting.
She accepts the compliment and waits patiently for Elijah to be freed from his servants, listening with only half an ear to the various reports and instructions before he steps over and wraps his arms about her waist, kissing her on the lips,
"Hello." He whispers and she can see the shadows under his eyes, reaching up to stroke his cheekbones gently,
"Did you sleep at all last night?"
He shakes his head and she draws him further away from everyone else,
"Speak to my father," she suggests quietly, "He can prescribe you something."
He shakes his head again with a rueful smile,
"History is filled with the crimes of Kings committed when they were mad with drink or drugs. Besides, I would rather not have the world looking down on me for being weak and judging my ability to rule."
She wants to assure him that her father would readily supply him with whatever he needed and would never write the prescription down anywhere, but Elijah's expression is firm and somewhere in the castle a clock begins tolling the half hour, so she knows that they're running behind.
She steps back with a smile and takes his hand, squeezing it comfortingly before bringing it to her lips and pressing a kiss against the knuckles.
"Lead the way, Your Majesty."
He winces at the title but checks over his shoulder to make sure everyone is ready, waiting until Niklaus and Henrik are behind him before he begins moving.
The moment he steps outside the Royal Residences, courtiers appear almost out of nowhere, smart enough not to greet the King in a cheerful, attention catching manner but waiting breathlessly as they passed until the right moment for them to jump in line.
There were three types of courtiers. Those that were already at the Royal Temple, milling about inside socialising and knowing that they were being seen on camera and by the crowds as the elite who could attend the funeral. Those that were going to scurry along behind the King, the Crown Prince and Prince Henrik, and pretend that they were part of the special group considered to be their friends and finally, those who were typically over the age of fifty and considered such acts beneath their dignity.
As far as Katherine was aware, that final group consisted of one man, Giuseppe Salvatore.
Who had arrived at the Royal Temple an hour ago with Nadia in tow, dressed in black couture as per the Count's instructions and having received a lecture on the proprieties of funeral attendance.
Elena had been worried about Nadia attending her first ever funeral, and one being watched by millions of people. Miranda had only shrugged and decided that a royal funeral was good luck in this case, it suggested a life of prestige ahead of her.
Stefan had sworn that at the first sign of distress, he would carry Nadia out of the Temple and take her somewhere cheerful, or at least less psychologically damaging.
She would be one of the first peeresses in history to be raised by parents who were more concerned about her mental health than by showing off and pushing her forward for their own ambitions.
Elijah turns to look back at the courtiers hurriedly falling into line according to precedence and frowns in annoyance, but fortunately none of them meet his eyes, all bowing respectfully and with an irritated sigh he tugs on Katherine's hand,
"Come, my darling," he says for the purpose of being overheard, "I don't want to be late for my father's funeral."
She resists the urge to smirk, if this were any other group of people in the world they might be shamefaced at that pointed comment, but these were courtiers; their very existence depended on their status at court.
Usually, the Royal Family had a habit of stopping in the Entrance Hall of Kattegat Palace, giving themselves a final moment to ensure that everything was in place before stepping out into the public eye, but Elijah just barrelled on ahead, disrupting the pace of the courtiers who'd paused out of habit and the attendants who'd thought they'd have one final chance to double or triple-check everything with him.
He walked right through the ancient wooden doors and down the stone steps into the entrance yard, Katherine, Klaus and Henrik just managing to keep up with him while everyone else fell behind.
The gates were up ahead and Katherine could see that the police were struggling to keep reporters back behind the cordons, forming a human barrier as cameras and phones were held high. The journalists were talking quickly into their microphones now and she heard her name several times but kept her gaze ahead as the gates were opened by the guards and they stepped into the square.
An almost direct path had been made for them by the cordons and she could see the Royal Temple ahead, but unlike the last time she had been in public with Elijah, this time the near silence around them was almost eerie.
No-one was talking audibly and once they were past the reporters; nobody was calling their name.
What was disturbing though were the phones.
Nearly every last person in the first row was holding up a phone, looking down at the screen instead of them, and there were either the clicking of photos being taken or the silence of videos being recorded. A few people had note books in hand and some were obviously hoping for a photo with the King but nobody was going to give autographs or take selfies on the way to a state funeral.
Halfway across the square, Katherine sees a head of brunette hair in the crowd and for a moment thinks Nadia is behind the cordons and panics before her eyes settle on the face beneath the hair and notice that it isn't her.
A little girl is standing near the front with her grandmother and is clutching a bouquet of flowers, with a teddy squashed under her arm and Katherine finds herself touched by the look of determination on her face.
Gently tugging her hand free from Elijah's, she makes her way to the little girl and, with extreme carefulness, and a moment of gratitude that her mother once made her practise this move for a solid three hours, she lowers herself down, balancing on her heels and keeping her knees together without her dress riding up, until she's at eye level with the little girl,
"Hello sweetie," she greets with a pleasant smile, "Would you like me to give those flowers to the King?"
The little girl looks to her grandmother for confirmation before turning back to her,
"Yes, please," she says firmly, "And the teddy bear too."
Katherine places a hand on her heart, touched by the gesture and takes both and rises to her feet steadily but the blood rushes to her head and spots dance in front of her eyes.
Thankfully, her mother's years of modelling and her own personal experience had taught her what to do in this situation as well.
She thanks the little girl and promises that she will hand both gifts right to Elijah, who has stopped a few feet ahead and is waiting for her, she knows that on any other day he would have catered to the audience and come over to speak to the child and been a perfect gentleman but today, his thoughts are on his father's funeral and she supposes that he could be excused this one time.
Hopefully.
Surely even the worst of the gossip rags aren't going to lead with the headline, 'King snubs little girl' when he was on the way to King Mikael's funeral?
She guessed they'd find out in the Press briefing tomorrow.
When her vision clears she returns to Elijah's side and hands him the teddy bear and flowers, he takes them with an absent smile towards the girl before switching them to one hand and waiting until they were approaching the Royal Temple before passing them off to Aiden.
The Royal Temple was one of the first buildings erected in Kattegat and over the centuries had only been maintained, never renovated so the original structure was mostly intact.
An imposing structure that had been made from bluestone, with large columns stretching up to the four layered gable rooftop, with doors designed to be barred against enemies. The ceiling was high to accommodate the statues of Thor, Odin and Freya, with a circular hole in the very centre for sunlight, but it only ever touched the altar which left the rest of the room in shadow unless the braziers had been lit, offerings of treasures from around the world and over the centuries hung from walls, the gold and silver gleaming in the firelight.
The stones kept the temple freezing all year around and the sacrifices of man and more recently of animal had stained the ground surrounding the altar.
Two men at the entrance bang drums to announce the arrival of the King, and when Katherine enters, just as the nobility are stepping into their wooden seats, the strong smell of smoke hits her and it feels so right.
Katherine knew that her grandfather and father kept a prie-dieu hidden somewhere at their family home in Rose Seng, and once, she had even heard her father telling his rosary beads, but whenever she had attended Christmas or Easter services at Whitmore or Mystic Falls out of curiosity, it had seemed so strange to her.
Christian Churches were all so clean, they reeked of incense and the carpet underneath them so strange, not to mention the playing of the organs or even more bizarrely the guitar.
Here, as she looked up to see the foot gap between the wall and the roof to let in the tiniest amount of air, and the golden light cast by the fires in the braziers, she sees the statues of the gods carved from blessed trees and the priests and priestesses in their white robes and it's almost like coming home.
She follows Elijah up the aisle, which had been added in the Renaissance era to accommodate the growing number of nobility and to serve precedence over equality in worship and sees her family in the second row on the right, the second highest place of honour after the Duchess Genevieve and her triplets. Katherine took a moment to notice that the triplets, Davina, Monique and Casandra had all had their make-up professionally done for the event and even had their nails manicured.
At least they were dressed well, unlike the Princess Rebekah whose feathery dress was Alexander McQueen but more steampunk than funeral attire.
Speaking of...
She looked around as she remembered that Kol and Rebekah hadn't walked with them, in fact she couldn't see them at all and it was throwing everyone after Niklaus into confusion, Henrik looking around uncertainly as they approach the altar where Mikael's coffin stood.
Katherine avoids looking at the coffin, keeping her eyes on the worn stones underneath her until Elijah stops. She pauses beside him as he stands, staring at the coffin with a look, almost of disbelief, on his face. He swallows and looks to the wooden pew on the left, covered with furs and with two arms inlaid with gold in the middle to make a throne for the king.
Katherine glances to her family and takes a step towards them when Elijah tugs on her hand and nearly unbalances her as she falls back,
"Stay with me," he begs in a shaky voice, "I can't face him alone."
There's an audible gasp as Katherine allows him to lead her along the pew, to the seat beside the throne and when Niklaus settles down beside her she leans over,
"I'm sorry." She murmurs under her breath but he gives the tiniest shake of his head, "It's fine, Katty."
Even though, as the Crown Prince and heir, Niklaus has just been snubbed before the eyes of the world, he is clearly more concerned with the absence of the third and fourth in line to the throne, turning his head to scan the crowd and frowning when he spots her family.
"Who's that?" he asks, jerking his head,
"Caroline," Katherine says, keeping her eyes straight ahead, not needing to look to know whom he is referencing. After all, her entire family had dark hair, Caroline's blonde tresses shone in comparison.
Two figures emerge from the shadows behind the altar and Katherine sees Finn and Freya, with such grief-stricken expressions that her heart would go out to them if she didn't suspect that they were play-acting. The two of them hold each other and weep over Mikael's coffin, laying flowers atop it and she has to remind herself that the eyes of the world were upon her.
So instead of loudly calling them out on their falsity, she finally brings herself to study Mikael's coffin. It was fashioned from white oak and beautifully decorated, low-carved reliefs of Odin's symbols and events of Mikael's reign. She sees Esther's image carved into the side where his chest would be and his children, the legitimate ones, beside her.
Elijah is still squeezing her hand as he looks straight ahead at the coffin but she has to wonder if he can hear the whispers behind them. The whispers of the Court as she is given honour and precedence over the Crown Prince, even though she is not yet queen and the questions of Prince Kol and Princess Rebekah's absence.
Where were they?
What did this mean?
Had they been banished from Court?
What could they have possibly done?
Aiden suddenly appears, crouching beside Elijah, his every move tentative and embarrassed,
"Your Majesty, the high priest wants to know if he can start?"
Elijah doesn't answer and Katherine digs her nail into his skin before leaning past him,
"Find Rebekah and Kol," she orders, "Drag them here by their hair if you have to, but we can't start without them."
Because once the ceremony started the doors would be closed and no-one would be allowed to enter.
And as problematic as his relationship with his father had been, Katherine knew that Kol would be devastated if he missed the funeral.
Aiden darts away and Katherine glares at the empty places on Elijah's other side where Kol and Rebekah were supposed to sit. Tradition stated that the Crown Prince sat on the right of the King, to protect him in the event of an attack and the third in-line sat on the left, so that if one heir died the other would hopefully survive.
"Are you alright?" she asks Elijah with concern, already trying to think of ways to subtly call her father over to treat her fiancé for shock without alerting the onlookers, or worse, the media.
"He was my father," he turns towards her automatically, keeping his lips as stiff as possible so that nobody could read them and his voice as low as possible for those straining to eavesdrop on the conversation, "And so many times I wished him dead."
She had too.
She had prayed for it.
Contemplated turning to witchcraft or devil worship to see it happen but every time had turned away and hoped that living was more painful for Mikael than death.
Even now, unlike Elijah, she couldn't even bring herself to feel an iota of sympathy or grief for the man.
Her heart was frozen colder than ice and deader than Queen Esther.
Another five minutes which stretch out into eternity as the stares of the entire room burn into the back of Katherine's head, whispers filling the room like the smoke of the braziers and the creaking of people turning in their seats to confer with others about the absence of the Prince and Princess.
Finally, there was a stir from the back along with sighs, either of relief or disappointment- probably the latter, and Katherine had to fight the urge to look over her shoulder as Kol and Rebekah made their way through the temple.
Kol immediately broke away from his sister and took his place beside Elijah, throwing Katherine a surprised look as he did so. Rebekah, on the other hand, walked up to the coffin and threw her arms around Freya; burying her head in her shoulder and clutching to her for dear life.
Katherine wondered which of the two sisters was posing for the camera more.
Elijah held up two fingers and made a beckoning motion and Aiden appeared as if from thin air,
"Your Majesty?"
"Tell the high priest to begin now," he orders in a tight voice, "If those three don't move the ceremony can be performed around them for all I care."
Rebekah's head shoots up at those words and her gaze widens with hurt before it narrows and she links her arm with her half-sister's and whispers in her ear.
She then swans right past the royal seats to the third one on the left where Finn and Freya held their allotted places and one poor courtier was pushed off the pew to make room and forced to stand against the wall, his face red with mortification while the entrance of the high priest was almost lost in the sound of scandalised mutterings and Katherine's lips pursed in anger.
As much as she had hated Mikael, she apparently had more respect for him than his own daughter who had turned his funeral into a farcical show.
After the funeral, when the late King's coffin was carried from the Temple, Caroline rose with the rest of the Petrova family and studied Elena's every action as they filed from the pew, there didn't seem to be anything particular that she had to do so she allowed herself to relax slightly as everyone started shuffling towards the exit. Her head turned as someone touched her arm and she smiled awkwardly as they spoke to her in rapid-fire Valhallan,
"I'm sorry…" she told them in her shaky grasp of the language, "I don't speak…"
"What's your name?" they asked bluntly in English, with a hint of British accent and she smiled,
"Caroline Forbes," she answered politely, "Please excuse me."
Unable to see the back of Elena's head, she hurries forward and is nearly blinded when she steps outside. The day is hardly blindingly bright but after three hours in the darkness of the temple she's surprised she can see anything at all.
Holding her hand at the level of her eyes, she looks around the crowd of nobles and sees that the coffin has been mounted onto a horse drawn, glass hearse, and everyone is quickly filing into the cars lined up for the funeral procession.
Except she can't see the Petrova's anywhere.
She's just about to wonder whether Katherine will have her phone on or if she could maybe hitch a ride with Ansel the security guy when another hand touches her arm,
"Excuse me." the voice asks,
"Caroline Forbes. American." She answers without even looking, trying to spot Elena or even her husband in the crowd of strangers,
"Nice to meet you," he replies, humour heavy in his tone, "I was going to ask if I could help you."
With a grateful smile she turns around and blinks in surprise.
She'd just been rude to the Crown Prince.
"I am so sorry…" she gushed, "I didn't realise you were…well you."
She is so rattled she doesn't even give a graceful curtsey, even though she'd been taught how during her training for Miss Mystic Falls. The Prince only gives a quick chuckle, "It's fine really," he puts his hands on her arms, righting her and she blushes as the intensity of his blue eyes hits her,
"Do you need help?" he repeats and she nods eagerly, "Um…I'm meant to be with the Petrova's but I've somehow lost them."
He looks around, scanning the crowd with her, "They're probably already in their car, which is identical to all the other cars."
And there is about forty of them, all lined up in a row, quickly filling up.
Just as Caroline resigns herself to sticking her face into every car and the embarrassment to go along with that, the Prince speaks again,
"Tell you what," he says, "Why don't you ride with me? You can meet up with the Petrova's when we reach the cliff."
She smiles but bites her lip, "Are you sure?"
He nods, "I've plenty of room in the Royce and it'll be rather boring unless I have someone to talk to."
"Okay," she grins, "Let's go."
A/N- So I lifted the scene right from TVD for the flashback and just moved it forward five hundred years, also Katherine is more innocent in the flashbacks because she's had a good life so that's why she's slightly OOC.