Notes: A longish one again! I think the next chapter will be the last. Thanks for sticking with this story even though it was supposed to be done ages ago lol. Since it was originally a birthday fic it HAD to have smut but with the idea it took forever to get here. The first chunk of this chapter is that smut (finally!)
Chapter Eleven: Lay Down By Me
Winning feels so freaking good.
She'll never have to lay eyes on either Tristan or Aurora again. She'll never be beholden to them, to anyone. She has her life back, can go anywhere or do anything. She's free, in control of her own destiny. It's all that she's wanted, for years, and now that she's got it she's giddy with excitement. Caroline feels exhilarated, her entire body buzzing with adrenaline.
A celebration is in order. A private one.
Later she'll be sure to tell Bonnie she's awesome, Davina and Freya too. Enzo deserves a hug and Marcel had totally had her back so maybe she can stop giving him a hard time. They've got plenty of supplies kicking around. It would be easy enough to throw a victory party, one that's actually meant to be fun.
It's a thought for tomorrow. Right now? There's only one thing Caroline wants, one person she wants to revel with.
The door to the ballroom opens, a brief burst of noise filling the hallway before it's cut off by a quick slam. She doesn't need to look, knows exactly who's followed her out. Her stride doesn't pause though she adds a little extra swing to her hips.
When she'd left the ballroom she'd had no doubt that Klaus would follow. She'd pressed herself against him, had felt the way his muscles had coiled when she'd touched him. His eyes had been dark when she'd pulled back, heated in a way that meant there was only one possible option for how the evening would end. With him and her, sprawled out on a reasonably flat surface. Nothing between them but sweat and need.
She's sure they'll make it to his bed eventually. Once isn't going to be enough, not with the rush of victory flowing through both of them. It's a heady high, intoxicating, and she wants to see how far it can take her.
Caroline can hardly wait to have Klaus touch her again, her skin's prickling in anticipation. She's been far from celibate over the last ten years but she'd always been lying. Often intentionally, as a ploy to get information, or because she didn't want to leave a trace of herself behind. Frequently the untruths had been unintentional because she'd had no idea who Caroline Forbes really was.
Klaus knows exactly who she is.
He's always seen the whole – the rough edges and the sharp angles – instead of just the shiny, happy parts she likes to show the world. Caroline doesn't have to hide anything from him, there will be no coyness or hesitation. Even if she's capable of it in this moment she doubts Klaus will accept it.
She reaches the stairs, grasps her skirt in preparation for ascending.
There's a hand on her wrist before her foot hits the first step. She's spun, pressed between Klaus' body and the wall before she can blink.
Finally.
"Took you long enough," Caroline taunts, setting her hands on his arms. She glides them up, digging her nails into the thin fabric of his dress shirt, wishing it was skin.
Later. She'll mark him and watch it heal.
A quick flash of a smile and Klaus is crowding closer, his hips settling between her thighs. Caroline doesn't fight him when his hands inch her dress up, when they settle on her ass and lift. His head dips, tongue darting out, tasting her skin and the blood that's been drying on it, just as he grinds harshly into her. Her mouth falls open at the flash of heat the motion sends pulsing low in her stomach, and she moans when his teeth scape gently along her collarbone. "Apologies, love. I had to ensure we wouldn't be disturbed."
Caroline smirks, tightening her grip on him as she rolls her hips. The friction is delicious, her damp lace panties against his covered hardness the perfect tease of what's to come, "Are you sure it'll take that long? It has been ten years for you, so it's totally understandable it your stamina's not up to par."
Klaus lets out a noise, a growl that promises he'll pay her back for that little joke. She hears a rip, and her dress slips down to pool around her waist. She feels his thumb hook into the metal band that had cinched the waist, there's a faint ping as it hits the floor. Then he's hitching her higher, his mouth tracing the edge of her bra. She wants to protest because there's no relief in her new position. She can't rock against him splayed out as she is over the flat planes of his abdomen, but Klaus tears her bra off, and licks across her breast before she can get the words out.
She expects hunger, roughness and greed. Would welcome teeth and claws, the crashing of his body against hers. Klaus, it seems, has other plans. He's so very soft, delicate laps and nips until her nipple is an aching point.
She realizes what he's doing, forces back a frustrated whine. She totally should have kept her mouth shut.
He pulls back, blows a stream of air over her wet flesh. Caroline shivers. "Klaus," she grumbles, digging her nails into his neck. He resists her efforts to pull him closer, dropping a deceptively innocent kiss on the skin between her breasts. His lips don't leave her skin, tasting her leisurely.
Caroline tries again, shifting restlessly against the wall. "Klaus, come on."
His smile is pressed into the slope of her breast, his contemplative hum muffled, "Such impatience. Perhaps I have something to prove."
"Prove it later. I am practically naked," Caroline huffs. "There's a ton of people who could interrupt us at any moment. So excuse me if I actually want to get off before that happens."
Klaus moves one of his hands, eases it between them. Caroline bites her lip when his thumb brushes over her panties, finding her clit and rubbing through the scrap of lace. He traces slow circles that leave her thighs twitching and her breath quickening. Her eyes flutter shut and she tries to relax into it, chase the sensations, but Klaus makes a chiding sound, stilling his motions. She starts to whimper, but he swallows it, sealing his mouth over hers. He strokes into her mouth, a slick hot glide and she moans at the taste of him, the hint of her blood that still lingers on his tongue.
He presses closer, leaving no space between them and Caroline arches her back, rubs her nipples against his clothed chest. It's not enough, and her fingers find his collar, tearing his shirt away impatiently. His skin is better, hot and smooth under her fingertips, and she gasps into his mouth.
He bites down on her lower lip, tugging as he pulls back. "Hold on," he grits out.
As much as she wants more, him inside her, right now, she doesn't want witnesses. Caroline clutches at his shoulders, kisses his throat as he flashes them away.
Caroline's back hits something soft, sheets that smell like Klaus. He relieves her of her dress, shredding what remains and tossing it aside carelessly before he follows her down, his hips pinning hers. Caroline moans, grinds up into him before attempting to wriggle her hands in between them to go for his belt. Klaus thwarts her, grabs her hands and pins them on either side of her head. She glares up at him, but Klaus is unmoved, brushing his lips over hers. "There," he murmurs. "I do believe I've solved our need for haste. No one will disturb us. If they know what's good for them."
She pushes up against him, spreading her thighs to get more pressure where she wants it. There's a dull demanding throb of need building and she can't stay still. "Your need for haste," she complains. "I'm still totally pro haste."
He squeezes her wrists gently. "Keep them there," he tells her, as his hands slide down her arms. "Until I tell you to move them."
Caroline shakes her head, barely notices the pins in her hair jabbing at her skull, her fists clenching because all she wants to do is reach for him, "I want to touch you," she tells him.
"Later," Klaus assures her. "As much as you want to, love. I want this memory. I want to be able to close my eyes and recall the exact texture of your skin, how you smell when you're aching with want."
He cups her ribcage, rubs his thumbs over her nipples, watching hungrily as the pucker and strain. He smiles, tone growing teasing, "I confess I'm a bit offended that you'd forgotten certain things. After I worked so very hard to ensure I'd be memorable." He nuzzles the underside of one breast, mouthing down her stomach and nipping at her belly button. Caroline jolts upward, draws her knees up as he continues down.
She twists her hands, grabs a hold of the pillow under her head when he licks her though her underwear. He does it again and Caroline moans. It's not enough, the hint of heat and slickness, the too fleeting pressure against where she's most sensitive.
"Take them off," she demands, her voice rough as she glances down at him.
"Ask nicely," Klaus drawls, the point of his tongue finding her clit.
Refusing isn't an option, her entire body screaming for more as he continues to work her up. "Please," she breathes. "Please, please, please…"
She can't say anything else, her pleas a garbled mess in her throat. She'd felt a quick sting as he rips her panties away, lace and elastic abrading her skin. Any pain is quickly forgotten as his lips wrap around her clit, a fingertip ghosting over her entrance as he sucks. Caroline's head thrashes against the pillows and, mindless, she reaches down, threading her fingers through his hair as she moves against his mouth jerkily.
Klaus pulls back, and his look is pointed. "Ugh, come on," Caroline moans, relaxing her grip.
He smirks, bites down gently on her thigh, draping it over his shoulder and urging the other flat against the bed. She expects him to get on with it, the muscles in her stomach tight with anticipation. But Klaus, the smug jerk, remains in no hurry, brushing his lips lightly against her as he speaks, "Perhaps you need something to occupy them, hmm? Touch yourself for me, love." Her breath shudders out, eyelids falling as she lets her hands creep towards her breasts. Caroline cups the weight of them, shivers at Klaus' low voiced encouragement, "Just like that, Caroline. You're so lovely like this, sweetheart. Flushed and dripping for me."
She pulls harder at her nipples, cries out when Klaus slips two fingers into her, curling them expertly. He sets his mouth back on her clit, flicking over it again and again, occasionally treating her to a rough caress of the flat of his tongue. Caroline's back bows, her heel grinding into the muscle of his back. It's not long until she's so close, straining for an edge he's keeping just out of her reach. She's sweating, her hair sticking to damp skin, her exhales ragged. "Klaus, please," she moans, "I need more. I need…"
His motions speed up, his fingers scissoring inside of her as he licks at her with enthusiasm. It's his groan, hoarse and appreciative, the vibration of it against her, that sends Caroline over, her body quaking uncontrollably as she comes. Her hands fall away, fingers tearing at the sheets, his name rasped from deep in her throat as her head digs into the pillows.
She sighs as she relaxes, sinking into the bed, feels better than she has in ages. She really couldn't have asked for a better way to celebrate being free.
Klaus seems to be in no hurry to take something for himself, his touch gentling as he works her though. Caroline pants up at the ceiling as her trembling subsides, fighting through her daze, feeling lax and sated. She swallows hard, "Okay, fine. I'm sorry I forgot you could do that. Damn."
He laughs softly, nudges her leg down as he crawls over her. He looks smug, but Caroline can forgive him. She can be generous, considering he'd been pretty freaking selfless just there. He settles over her, and she lets out another moan, feeling him cock nudge between her thighs. He's still wearing his pants, the coarse fabric an interesting sensation but not the one that she wants.
"Why are you still dressed?" Caroline mutters. She pulls at his belt, "Off. Now. Seriously."
Klaus pushes up, kneels above her. Caroline sits up, kisses his chest. Sinks her blunt teeth into the lean muscle just to hear him hiss. He slides his hands through her hair, tugging out the last of the pins and sweeping them off the bed. Urges her back down as his hands go to his belt.
Caroline raises her arms over her head, languidly stretches out her back. He swallows, grits his teeth, as he stares down at her. She watches with heavy lidded eyes as Klaus strips away the rest of his clothes. His motions are quick and forceful, and she hears seams tearing. It's tough not to comment, make a crack about his eagerness, but she kind of doesn't know how much more teasing she can take.
She might have already come but she wants more, squirms beneath him in a silent plea for him to hurry.
Besides, who's she kidding? Mocking him would be pointless because she loves that he wants her like he does. That his hands are unsteady and his skin jumps at her touch. It makes her feel powerful, invincible. And it's only fair, because her body doesn't lie, her racing heart and fever hot skin, the wetness coating her thighs, all solid proof of her own desire.
She reaches for him once he's naked. The sight of his cock, thick and ready, sending another ripple of need through her. He lays over her, skin to skin, and Caroline opens her legs, encouraging him to press her into the bed with a contented moan, her hands on his back urging him closer.
She rolls her hips, her slick folds parting and rubbing against him. Klaus' eyes drift shut, his jaw clenching. Caroline bites her lip and moves again, reaching around him to run her nails lightly along his spine. There's a ring of yellow lighting up his pupils when he looks at her again, and Caroline feels her own vision sharpen in response. He doesn't speak, and she doesn't need him to. She holds his gaze as she bares her throat, tilting her hips until his cock presses inside of her.
He lays a kiss on the skin over her artery, she feels the hot rasp of his tongue before he bites down. Caroline's eyes roll back at the sting, and she moans when he drinks, clenching down around his cock.
She'd been kidding earlier, but when he pulls back, claiming her mouth hungrily, the forceful motions of their hips jostling the bed frame, she really can't believe she'd ever forgotten this. She can taste herself, her blood and her arousal, and it only makes her hotter. The way he moves, reads her body is insane, and the noises she makes get louder, grow in pitch and frequency, once he adjusts and his length rubs over her clit every time he drives into her.
Caroline grips him tighter, legs twining high around his waist. His venom burns, but she likes it, finds that it heightens her anticipation. His blood is incredible, and she wants it, knows she'll come the second it hits her taste buds. One of his hands delves into her hair, cupping the back of her neck. He slows, drags his cock from her heat and thrusts back in with agonizing precision. Caroline whines, dragging her nails down his back. "Shh," he soothes, and her belly quivers as he works his hand between them. "You need to heal. Bite me, Caroline. Drink and come around my cock."
It's all the invitation she needs, her fangs sink into his skin as his thumb works her clit. She goes flying and it's a rush, better than the last, her nerves on fire. Caroline's scream is muffled by her mouthful of blood, her body fluttering around him, drawing Klaus deeper into her embrace. She drinks greedily, not caring that she's spilling. She feels his blood, metallic and sticky on her skin, and sliding down her throat, and has to tear her teeth away, sucking in air.
Klaus doesn't let her go far, "Eyes on me," he demands, as he shudders against her, his hips pumping roughly as he spills. Broken curses fall from him, interspersed with her roughly uttered name, she watches his face go slack with pleasure surges up to steal another kiss.
He's still inside of her when he rolls them, holding her tight to his chest. Caroline buries her face in his shoulder, struggles to get her breathing under control. His hands are soft against her back, long strokes like he's memorizing the quivering of skin.
Caroline clears her throat, and pulls back enough so she can look at him, her hair falling around them in a messy tangle "Hell of a round one," she remarks lightly. She's smiling, and makes no move to put distance between them.
Klaus returns it, dimples on full display. She runs her fingertip over one, finds that she misses the usual stubble. He'd shaven completely, in deference to the formal occasion. It emphasizes the stupidly attractive planes of his face nicely, but she has fond memories of the texture of his usual facial hair against some of her more delicate patches of skin.
"I aim to please," he murmurs, eyes bright. He bites at her finger playfully when it brushes over his lower lip.
Caroline makes a show of rolling her eyes but her inability to flatten her smile makes it obvious that her exasperation is feigned. She brings her finger to her neck, swipes up some of the blood that had spilled when she'd bitten him. She watches his eyes darken when she slips it into her mouth, feels his cock swelling, nudging against her slick center. She pulls her finger out with a pop, and sits up and adjusts until she can sink down on him, swiveling her hips trying to find pressure against that perfect spot.
Klaus grips her thighs, raises an eyebrow, "Round two? So soon?" he asks innocently, his hands firm, denying her attempts to move.
Caroline shrugs, and leans forward, planting her hands on either side of her head. "Why? Did you have other plans? I was kind of hoping for shower sex for round three, to be honest. In my fantasies you looked really good wet."
He smirks, an enormously pleased expression flitting across his face that never bodes well. Caroline kisses him before he can make the stupid joke he was clearly going to. He really is nowhere near as funny as he likes to think. And if he's so distracted when she pushes her tongue into his mouth that he lets up and she can move against him, he really can't complain. He's soon much too busy palming her ass and urging her to go faster to even remember what he would have complained about.
It's a little victory, but Caroline will take it. She's sure he'll soon turn the tables once more, leave her a gasping quivering wreck.
She'd forgotten Klaus, all the things he makes her feel. They memories had been returned but Caroline wants to make new ones, better ones, to sit alongside the old.
She doesn't think she'll ever feel isolated in the same way – not with people who care about her, the real her, just a phone call away. Still, she'll be travelling alone, might occasionally need a pick me up. She'll think back to this night, the past few days, the ones to come. She'll remember passion, safety, camaraderie.
This time, when she's out in the world, she'll take the good things with her.
Extricating himself from Caroline proves to be difficult.
Largely because Klaus finds he doesn't truly desire to leave his bed, the tangle of limbs they'd become over the course of the night. He'd first attempted it in the predawn hours but when Caroline's eyes had fluttered open she'd smiled, slipped a hand into his hair and drawn him into a slow, lazy kiss. She'd hooked a thigh over his hip, let out a throaty little moan, and Klaus had decided it was far too early to begin his day no matter how extensive his to do list.
He tries again once the sun begins to heat the room. Caroline's got her back to his chest, curled into herself, but she still makes a soft noise of complaint when he pulls away. He pauses, brings the covers up around her shoulders and she relaxes, turning her face into one of his pillows as her breathing evens out.
His first stop is her room, her closet more specifically. He piles his arms high, choosing a wide variety of dresses and jeans and shirts and sweaters. He wants her to have options. He grabs one of the B+ blood bags from the mini fridge before he leaves.
Caroline doesn't stir when he enters his room again, sleeps deeply as he lays the clothes he'd selected in her line of sight. He leaves the blood on the nightstand and slips back out, making his way downstairs. He'd been aware of the sounds coming from the lower levels, had heard the music and the voices, but he hadn't paid them very much attention so he's not entirely sure who's still in the house.
He soon realizes that no one had thought to get Rebekah to break the compulsion she'd placed on the catering staff. He spots nearly a dozen humans in wrinkled uniforms, sprawled out over various pieces of furniture.
He spies no blood spatter on their white shirts, and they all seem to have steady heartbeats. Klaus assumes the party had spilled out into the French Quarter before anyone had gotten too thirsty. Or perhaps the hired help had just enough skill in self-preservation to make themselves scarce once the liquor and the canapes ran low.
Klaus spots a man he vaguely recalls issuing orders through the open library door. He's older than most of the others, maybe forty with greying hair. Klaus approaches the sofa he'd claimed and he doesn't stir until he's rouses with a rough shake. Klaus keeps his expression placid when the human recoils in fear. He lurches back, but he has nowhere to go, and the sofa's rocked off its legs.
Klaus raises a brow once the furniture has settled, "Find the cooks," he instructs. "Tell them that we'll be needing breakfast for…" he takes a moment to think, "…twenty or so. Round up what's left of the alcohol as well." He's got a few cases of champagne stashed in the lower levels but he'll retrieve them himself. No need to send a human down and provide his prisoners with an easy snack.
The man doesn't move, only his eyes flit around the room. "I… we tried… we couldn't leave."
He holds in an annoyed sigh, "No, you couldn't."
"I… my wife will be…"
Klaus leans down swiftly, straightening the man's tie. He shudders, cringes away, his hands curling into fists. He manages not to make a sound though his heart races. Somewhat impressive, for one in his position. "Worried about you?" Klaus says. "The poor dear. Don't fret, you'll be home before lunch to soothe her ruffled feathers. If my instructions are followed."
The man nods slowly and Klaus is glad he's selected an intelligent one. He pulls back, brushes his hands off briskly, "Excellent. I'll just need to round up my wayward family and assorted guests. We'll say, breakfast in an hour?"
He leaves without waiting for a reply.
Elijah finds him before Klaus can search his brother out, walking down the stairs adjusting his cufflinks as soon as Klaus exits the library. "Good morning," Klaus greets. "I trust everything went smoothly last night?"
Elijah's lips twitch in amusement, "After you left me to clean up the mess, you mean? Of course."
Klaus doesn't think an apology is necessary. It's far from the first time Elijah's been tasked with such a duty. "My thanks. Did Kol and Bekah heed my request to stay inside?" He'd insisted everyone of import – his siblings, Marcel, their assorted friends and paramours, along with Caroline, the Bennett witch and her vampire shadow - not risk The French Quarter. It's not safe until they can ensure that any stragglers loyal to Tristan are flushed out. Klaus doesn't fancy having to mount a rescue mission. Kol and Bekah had been resentful of the edict and he wouldn't put it past either of them to disobey.
"Safely tucked in their rooms, as far as I know." Elijah eyes the humans stumbling out into the hallway behind Klaus. The man Klaus had elected their leader is making his way through the rooms, quietly setting tasks for the rest of the workers. "I'll have to remind Rebekah to add a bonus for the staff to the caterer's bill. We don't want to be blacklisted if we're settling back here."
The company they'd selected is said to be the best in the city so Klaus supposes that's only prudent. He nods in agreement. "That's fine."
Elijah steps down until he's next to Klaus, "Are you staying?" he asks. It's neutral enough but Klaus knows better than to be fooled by such a careful tone. Elijah's fishing.
"I'll want to reestablish myself, yes. Get things in order. I imagine we'll have to travel a bit, clean up loose ends."
Elijah studies him, head tipped to the side, "And Miss Forbes?"
Klaus is careful to keep his response flippant. No need for Elijah to get it in his head to meddle. "Will be doing some travelling of her own, I imagine." They haven't discussed Caroline's plans much, too focused on what they had to get through. Given what's been stolen from her, Klaus can't imagine Caroline will be satisfied by what she's managed to see of the world.
The noise Elijah makes is contemplative, "I see."
Elijah always sees more than Klaus wants him to. He steers the subject to something less revealing, "She's asked you to call her Caroline. Repeatedly."
"Perhaps I will," Elijah says. He smiles, small and inscrutable, resting his hand on Klaus' shoulder. "Now, what's on the agenda for this morning?"
Klaus casts a glance behind him, to check that his instructions are still being followed. He thinks he's applied sufficient motivation. He decides that the humans should be able to get on without being supervised for a bit. "Let's head downstairs. See who we've got to work with, plan a bit."
It's too early to torture anyone, best to let them stew in the anticipation, but a few well phrased threats wouldn't go amiss. And he does need to retrieve the champagne.
"Eager to get everyone out of the house, Niklaus?"
"I'd like it to still be standing," he replies lightly. "It's technically a historical landmark and I'm fond of it. The longer we must keep everyone corralled the less likely that seems."
"I have missed the city," Elijah says, almost wistful. He leads the way towards the basement door, "The music especially."
Klaus understands, is eager to reacquaint himself with the wonders of New Orleans. He'd made an offer to Caroline, many years ago, and he intends to follow through. "Soon, brother."
They fall silent as they descend the steps, listening to the breathing of their prisoners grow heavy and tense. "Morning!" Klaus calls cheerfully. He walks the length of the room, down the narrow passage between the walls of cells. "I trust the accommodations are to everyone's liking?"
No one is brave or stupid enough to supply him with an answer.
Pity.
A quick glance around tells him the prisoners are cramped. Likely uncomfortable. Most of the vampires within have injuries in various stages of healing. He sees anger he'll have to stamp out, fear that'll come in handy. A bit of defeat here and there. That last emotion will expedite the interrogations, though sadly rendering them less fun.
"Tristan and Aurora were granted some privacy," Elijah says, nodding towards the stairs. The cell Aurora's occupied for her duration of her stay is on the other side of the house. "I'm told he's been awake for some time, if you'd like to speak with him."
Klaus mulls his options. He'd like to gloat a bit, of course, thinks it's only fair after he'd endured Tristan's visits. However, he'd wager that leaving Tristan until last, refusing to treat him like a priority, would do nicely to drive home his defeat.
He hadn't been joking about Aurora's rambling being enough to drive a man insane. Perhaps, after a few days in his sister's constant company, Tristan will be eager to spill his secrets to gain a reprieve.
"Later," Klaus decides. "We need to have a proper celebration first."
"Since you dashed out of the last one?" Elijah replies, dry as dust.
If his brother expects Klaus to feel so much as a hint of shame he'll be disappointed. "From the sounds of it things were quite festive without my presence."
"Our guests seemed to have a good time."
Elijah's behind him so Klaus allows himself a smile his brother would recognize as needling. "I imagine you didn't indulge much, what with all the work you were doing. Must I resort to clichés, brother? Surely there's an old friend or two you're eager to get reacquainted with? That girl who left with Marcellus, perhaps? A bit of play would do you good and I'm certain she'd not object to participating in any games you might suggest."
Elijah's not the only one who's been paying attention.
Before Elijah can reply, and Klaus imagines it would have been a stiff denial, one of their guests finds his courage. He stands, shaky, on a leg that looks like it's not yet healed from a nasty break. He lurches forward, slamming into the bars next to where Klaus stands. He's filthy, his fair hair darkened with blood and grime. He's very tall, slender, and it takes Klaus a moment to place him. He's of Rebekah's line, a boy who she'd been rather infatuated with a few centuries ago. One who'd not held her interest long enough to be irritating. Klaus thinks his name is Alfwar or something similarly Nordic. "You won't get away with this," he hisses.
"Really?" Klaus counters, amused. "Seems to me like I already have."
He takes a deep breath, his narrow chest puffing up in outrage, but he seems to swallow back his words at the last minute. Elijah steps forward, speaks with exaggerated lightness, "My. I think this one is eager to speak of his accomplices."
"Kind of him," Klaus murmurs, watching the vampire's fair skin grow impossibly paler. There's nothing in the cell that can kill a vampire though, if one is motivated enough, one could likely claw out their own heart. "I think we should make sure he's comfortable while we eat, hmm?"
He and Elijah haven't always fought on the same side but they've done it enough to be good at it. The curtains are pulled swiftly, shrieks of pain ringing out from all corners as Klaus makes quick work of the lock. He wrinkles his nose at the scent of charred flesh, reaching in to grasp Alfwar's throat. He's out of the cell with little effort, the cell door slamming shut when Klaus tosses him against it. The boy makes a split second calculation, one with no correct answer, and makes a run for it.
Elijah's in position, snaps his neck neatly. He's got his handkerchief out, wiping down the grime that had transferred to his hands, when Klaus turns.
"I assume you've got the chains set up?"
"Freya renewed the spells yesterday."
Klaus nods, pleased, and scoops up the body on the floor. Elijah gets the door, holds it for Klaus' exit. They chain Alfwar to the wall quickly and Elijah rolls up his sleeves and assists with bringing the champagne upstairs.
It's… pleasant. Working side by side at something so simple.
Klaus may just have to accept that his siblings have a point. With no secrets between them, all of them working in tandem, their plans have gone swimmingly.
He'll have to remember this, the next time there's a threat.
It's Day Five of their post victory house arrest Caroline is thanking the capitalist powers that be that next day Amazon delivery is a thing.
After that first morning, the impromptu celebratory breakfast that Klaus (with compelled help, of course) had thrown together, tensions had once again begun to mount. The compound is large but for their particular group, most of whom had been on the run or imprisoned for the last decade, its walls feel suffocating.
They can hear the noises from The French Quarter, the music and the merriment. It's just beyond their reach and so very tempting.
In the lead up to the big confrontation with Tristan there had been blow ups. Clashing personalities, centuries old beefs, vampires with dramatic tendencies – squabbles and light violence and property destruction had been perfectly understandable. As tense as things had gotten nothing had escalated too far because they'd all had a common goal, an enemy to direct their anger at. They'd known that a fight, a release, was inevitable.
This time, there's no end to work towards. There's not even a timetable. Several members of Tristan's inner circle are unaccounted for. It's likely they're attempting to go to ground, to disappear with their lives, but Klaus remains paranoid. He insists that desperation leads to recklessness and that it's possible one of the vampires he's hunting will choose to go out in a blaze of glory and take whoever they can down with them. The Originals are unbreakable but, as the past ten years had proven, they are containable. The rest of them are even more vulnerable.
Until something gives they're stuck.
They're bored and restless and by the third day there had been six separate neck snappings. Klaus had threatened to bring his sibling's coffins out of storage and leave Rebekah and Kol resting in them until they learned to mind their manners. That had not gone over well.
Freya had slipped away in the melee and had been smart enough to hide the daggers.
Caroline had been less than sympathetic to his pain when Rebekah and Kol teamed up and gotten some good hits in. She'd buried her nose in her book and ignored Klaus' grumbling, had let him pop his own shoulder back into its socket and straighten out his finger bones so they'd heal correctly.
She has no desire to stick her nose into Klaus' family dysfunctions, knows that if they're ever going to get over all the simmering resentments and the back stabbing he's perpetuated over the last thousand years, that Klaus and the rest of the Mikaelsons will have to figure it out themselves.
Fixing Klaus isn't her job, probably isn't even possible.
Sensing things were only going to get worse Caroline had decided distractions were in order. She'd figured that slightly more wholesome outlets to combat boredom would be best, because excessive drinking had led to loosened lips and frayed tempers, ratcheting up the discontent instead of soothing it. She'd added a gigantic pile of games, cards, poker chips to an online cart, handed her laptop off to Klaus and told him to input his credit card details.
He's snorted but held his tongue, had completed the transaction without arguing.
Less than twenty four hours later she'd been ripping into brown boxes and instigating games with a careful mix of puppy eyes, trash talk, and coaxing. Eventually, everyone had succumbed and morale seems to be inching up.
Klaus totally owes her one and Caroline intends to collect.
As a bonus, she's learned a ton of old time-y card games (most of which she kicks ass at, thank you very much) and has won tidy sums of money.
Right now, paired with Josh, she's totally cleaning up. Caroline snatches up the neat stack of twenties, shaking her head at Kol mockingly, "How is it that you are so bad at this?" Bonnie's his partner but is a much more gracious loser. Probably because Kol's footing the bill.
Kol's teeth grind together and he slouches down in his patio chair, nearly pouting. "I missed the centuries this game was popular."
"Excuses, excuses," Josh chirps, taking his pile of cash off Caroline's hands. "We," he says, jerking his thumb in Caroline's direction, before pointing across the table at Bonnie, "hadn't even been born when y'all were sneaking off from fancy balls and musicales to gamble."
Caroline shoots him a surprised look and Bonnie giggles softly, "Musicales? Really?"
Josh shrugs, picking up the cards to begin shuffling. "My mom liked romance novels. The ones with the dukes and the spinsters and the waltzes. Whist was the only card game they seemed to play."
"I don't know that I've ever heard of a duller book," Kol mutters, tipping his head back towards the sun.
Caroline's super tempted to correct Kol – she's sure he'd change his tune if she informed him the books Josh is speaking of are liberally sprinkled with sex – but she catches Bonnie's eye and Bon shakes her head, her eyes wide and pleading.
Kol's been flirting, pretty shamelessly, with both Bon and Enzo. Adding sex to this conversation will in no way discourage him. Caroline's still tempted, her entertainment options are limited and watching Bonnie go from flustered and blushing to murderous and barely refraining from using magic to drown Kol in the pool is always fun.
However, she thinks Kol's got a torture shift coming up in a few hours and he'd be peeved if he missed it. The whole point of ordering the games was to reduce crankiness, not instigate it.
She smiles at him, pitching her voice to a level of perkiness he'll surely find annoying. "It's totally good for me that you suck, Kol. I don't want to be roughing it when I finally get to leave here. Your money's gonna buy me some cool tours."
His head rolls back up, brows furrowed in confusion, "Darling, I'm fairly certain you have more money than I. Nik and Elijah only let me pull from the small accounts, you know. A man loses a castle on a horse race one time…"
"You lost a castle?" Josh exclaims.
Caroline has no idea why that's a surprise. It's totally on brand for Kol.
"I haven't touched my actual accounts in years," she says slowly. "They've probably all been eaten up by bank fees. It's going to take me awhile to compel those away but even so, there's no way I have more money than you."
Kol shakes his head, reaches out to pat her hand, watching her like she's a slow but adorable child. "Where do you think Tristan's money is going to go?"
She hasn't given it a single thought.
Kol's staring at her like he's waiting for her to catch up, both Bonnie and Josh have glanced away. Bonnie's swirling her straw around in her iced tea and Josh is very focused on the two decks of cards he's intermingling. Caroline's still a little lost. "You can't mean… me?"
"Did Nik not tell you?" Kol asks mildly. "Perhaps it's just slipped his mind. You two don't seem to talk over much."
She narrows her eyes in annoyance. She and Klaus talk plenty, they're just usually naked and sweaty for their conversations, tucked away in the spelled privacy of Klaus' rooms. Not that Kol needs to know any of that, even if his assumptions are freaking rude. "I don't want Tristan's money."
"Um…" Josh interrupts tentatively, "maybe don't be so hasty."
She turns to look at him, incredulous.
He holds up a hand, leaning away, "I'm just saying! It's not like he's gonna need it. Klaus clearly doesn't."
"He's got a point, Care."
She shifts her gaze to Bonnie, "You too? Seriously?"
Bonnie doesn't falter, "He took years of your life. Money won't fix that, can't give you back the time you lost or erase the things you did. Money can make the next ten years of your life, all the years after that, better. You can go anywhere, buy every pretty thing your heart desires."
"Since when did you embrace treat yourself as a life philosophy?"
Bonnie shrugs, "There's been times over the last few years where I only ate because Enzo could compel food for me. I see the appeal of financial comfort."
A quick flash of anger floods Caroline, followed by a heavy helping of guilt. Her hands falling to knot in her skirt and her eyes sting. She takes a deep breath, pushing passed it all, reminds herself that Tristan's days are numbered, the remaining few sure to be miserable.
Exactly as he deserves.
"I'm sorry," Caroline blurts out. "I'm sorry I helped him and that you were hurting and…"
Bonnie shakes her head, leaning forward in her seat. "No," she says firmly. "No apologies. That's your rule, remember? You said I'm not allowed to feel guilty about not looking for you so it's only fair if that goes both ways. Nothing that happened to me over the last ten years was your fault."
"If either of you is going to cry I'm leaving and taking my money with me." Kol says. He glances back and forth between her and Bonnie, his face showing his distaste. "There's no crying in gambling. Everyone knows that."
Bonnie cracks a small smile, Caroline manages a laugh. "Far be it for me to offend your delicate sensibilities, Kol."
He protests the use of the word delicate, neatly turning it into a reference to his dick. Bonnie sputters a reply and Josh props his elbow on the table, watches them avidly. Interjecting just enough to keep Bonnie and Kol bickering. Caroline doesn't really register the substance of their words, letting her thoughts drift.
She has no idea just how much money Tristan had amassed in all his centuries, trying to do the math based on what she knows of his properties and tastes is just too daunting. She's sure it's an astronomical sum, far too much for her to manage. Still, maybe Bonnie's right, maybe she deserves something.
Enough money to see the world, a few times over. Enough to provide for her friends, should they ever need the help. She definitely owes Bonnie a kick ass luxury vacation, complete with fancy spas and mouth-watering food and the fluffiest towels in existence.
She's spent the last ten years thinking she owed Tristan and Aurora. The part of her that rebels at taking their money, living off of it, is the part of her that wants to forget them, that refuses to be beholden.
Caroline decides she's going to have to get over that. To accept that she's the one who's owed, and far more than money.
There will be no strings, nothing for her to worry about. Not once they're dead.
He's hit with an odd flash of déjà vu when he knocks on Caroline's door. She hasn't spent much time in her room over the last few weeks. Occasionally she and Bonnie lock themselves away, and the smell of sage permeates the area. Sometimes she'll retreat for some privacy, and Klaus will hear the scratching of a pencil, the clicking of computer keys. She's making plans, he knows, though he doesn't like to think too much on them.
"I think I'm going to work backwards," Caroline murmured sleepily. Slumped across his lap, naked and replete, her back rested against his chest. Klaus had been just about to move them, relocate to his bed.
"Hmm?" he asked absently, running a hand along her thigh.
She reached back and played with one of his necklaces. "I want to start in Maipu. Go back to Montreal when I'm done. All the places Tristan sent me to, the ones I never got to actually enjoy. I want to erase those memories, make better ones."
He stiffened, and Caroline noticed, her hold on the back of his neck firming, like she anticipated his need to fight. "I'm still not ready," she said quietly, giving him pause. "For what you want. And I don't really think you are either."
Klaus opened his mouth to argue, to snap that he was quite certain that he knew his own mind, but Caroline continued, "You have things to figure out. You did just spend more than ten years dead to the world, Klaus. And I've seen you ducking Elijah every time he comes at you with his tablet."
He relaxed slightly, glared up at the ceiling, annoyed. "Investments and accounts and property checks. Tedious things. He can handle them."
"Maybe," Caroline said reasonably, "that's his way of spending time with you. Getting things back to normal. Or, well, as normal as you guys get. Doing things that don't involve torture and interrogations."
"I enjoy those," Klaus muttered, just a touch resentfully. "Kol and Rebekah have an excellent time as well."
Caroline's shoulders shook, her soft laugh making him smile in spite of the less than enjoyable topic at hand, "Yeah, I know. And I can't say I don't enjoy the aftermath. But that won't be there forever. You'll have to go back to day to day stuff at some point. I think that's what Elijah's trying to do."
He weighed her words, enjoyed the comfort of her body against his, for several long moments. "Fine. I will submit to a few hours of brotherly bonding via catching up on paperwork. Are you happy, sweetheart?"
Her head lifted, and she turned to face him, her brows furrowed. "I actually kind of am. Which is nuts, everything considered. And I've been meaning to say thanks for that."
Klaus shook his head, "Don't, Caroline. I don't want your gratitude."
But she'd refused to be swayed, "Well, too bad. But you have to know that's not all you have, right? When I leave, I don't need it to be like last time."
He went rigid once more, at her firm 'when.' He'd never force her to stay with him, intended for her to want to be at his side, when the time came. But the reminder of her inevitable absence was unwelcome He's always known he'd live years without her. The knowledge is harder to carry now. Klaus found himself intrigued by the rest of her statement, however. "Oh? What does that mean, love?"
She smiled, brushed her lips over his, the simple affection foreign and breathtaking. "It means I'm going to call you. Send you emails. Or wait, would you prefer letters? Is email too impersonal? Do you have a 'kids these days' speech handy?"
Klaus poked her side, dangerously close to a spot he'd found delightfully ticklish and she squirmed on his lap. The press of her arse against his cock had it stirring, and she did it again, more deliberately. His next words came out low and raspy, "Make your point, Caroline. Because I'll not wait much longer before setting you on the bed. I'm thinking hands and knees, to start."
She shivered, directed his hand to her breast, "We're friends, Klaus. Even if we're more. I'm not interested in pretending that's not true anymore. And hey, I'm sure I could use a restaurant recommendation occasionally. And maybe there are a couple of places you can show me, if you can squeeze me into your busy schedule of wrangling your siblings."
It was more than Klaus expected to be freely offered. And he was going to make certain that she never regretted making such an overture. He scooped her up, ignoring her indignant squeak, speeding her over to the bed.
Footsteps, then the door's thrown open, Caroline on the other side. She's got a tube of mascara in her hand, and she's wearing a short robe of thin silk. The ban on leaving the compound has officially been lifted, enough gleaned about Tristan's operations that Klaus is certain it's safe. He'd asked her to dinner and she'd happily accepted, claiming she's going completely stir crazy.
New Orleans can be the first city he shows her. Klaus thinks it's only fitting.
He quirks an eyebrow, glancing down at her decidedly disheveled appearance. He likes it, particularly the view of her legs, but it's not fit for public consumption. "Did we not say 6?" he asks curiously.
Caroline looks momentarily aggravated, reaching down and pulling him into the room, "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. I was hanging out by the pool talking to Enzo and I totally lost track of time. Am I going to screw up a reservation? I'll hurry and be like ten minutes, tops."
"It's fine, love," he assures her, sitting down on the end of her bed. His hold on New Orleans will need to be strengthened, but no one's going to turn them away for slight tardiness. "May I ask what Enzo and you were speaking of that was so engrossing?"
Caroline makes a face in the mirror, leaning in to continue with her makeup. "Ugh, he wants me to go back to Mystic Falls with him and Bonnie for a bit. He's not exactly thrilled about it but is basically unable to say to Bon. She's been doing a ton of research about the Sleeping Elena situation, and I know Freya's made a few suggestions."
"And you don't want to go?" Klaus asks, somewhat puzzled. He'd not been aware of any ill feelings she had towards the town, thought she'd gotten out before she'd felt too smothered.
She shrugs, "I just don't want to have to skulk around, avoid everyone. I mean, apparently Damon and Stefan never leave The Boardinghouse, live like shut ins and only creep out to steal blood bags and check to see if Elena's coffin's been disturbed. It's weird and I kind of want no part in it."
"I can't blame you."
Caroline's face reads guilt, and she looks down. "Elena accepted what happened to her, you know? I just don't think it's fair to expect Bonnie to put everything she wants on hold. And I know they'll make her feel like she has to. I don't want to get sucked in."
Klaus stands, approaches her. Shifts her hair over one shoulder and kisses her shoulder. "So don't," he says simply. "Go to Mystic Falls, or don't, that's your decision. Tell the Salvatore's to stuff it, that you've better things to do."
Caroline laughs, quick and humorless. "That easy, huh?"
It should be, but Caroline's loyalty is a tricky thing. She's not one to rescind it once given, even if those she's gifted it to are spectacularly undeserving. "I could threaten to kill them, if you'd like," Klaus offers. "Particularly Damon. Who knows, perhaps the doppelganger will be grateful? She wasn't very good at firm decisions. A lack of options could prove helpful. I'm sure Stefan would be happy to comfort her."
"You're not funny," Caroline tells him. But the smile she's trying to hide says otherwise.
Klaus smirks before sobering, holding her eyes in the reflection. He wants her to remember what he's about to say, to hold it close and know it's true. "It's your life, Caroline. Don't let anyone else rule it. Not again."
She's quiet, for a long moment, leaning more heavily against him as she considers his words. They don't speak much of Tristan or Aurora, Caroline's determined that they'll have no more power over her, she hasn't set foot in the basement since her confrontation with Aurora. She slips sometimes, usually in the dark. An idle story or casual remembrance. She has nightmares, both about what Tristan did to her and what had happened to her in the past she newly remembers. Her strength, the steel of her spine remains impressive, and as captivating as he remembers.
Eventually, Caroline nods, firm and decisive. "You're right," she says.
"Obviously," Klaus sniffs, only partially joking. Caroline elbows him roughly, and he lets her move him back a few steps.
"Shush, you. Now we're going to be like twenty minutes late. Actually, you know what? Meet me downstairs."
"Why?" Klaus asks. He's quite content to stay and watch her, doesn't care how long she takes.
Caroline smirks, "Because I'm hungry. And I want to see people other than the ones who hang out here. And I totally don't trust you not to make us even later when you see what I'm wearing under this robe."
Klaus lets his eyes drift down, intrigued. "I could close my eyes?" he offers.
She snorts, "Please. You'd peek."
It's possible she has a point. Self-denial and integrity aren't what Klaus would consider his strong suits. He gropes for a possible bargain, something to convince Caroline that they should stay in. But she anticipates it, turning and pushing him towards the door. "Nope, don't even. You'll see it later. Assuming I am sufficiently fed and entertained. New Orleans is awesome, right? I want to experience it like you promised."
He complains, but Caroline refuses to listen. Eventually he goes, but not before he presses her against the door, slants his mouth over hers and gives her something to think about.
Tonight he'll begin to show her the things he loves about the city, fulfill his old promise. It will take more than a single evening, and they've got time. Klaus still has loose ends that he's tying off, doing his best to ensure every bit of Tristan's power is obliterated.
In the meantime, until it's safe, he'll savor having Caroline near.
