I cannot tell you how thrilled I am over the response of the last chapter. I cannot thank all of you enough for taking the time to read my story. Thank you to all who have read, followed, favorited, and reviewed! I am still really wanting a beta, so please PM if you want to! Also, feel free to PM me with any questions, or follow me on tumblr at swingklaroline or louoftherings.
I am also looking for an edit for my story, please PM if you are willing to do it!
Super long chapter, enjoy!
-xoxo Katarhyne
Bound By Blood
Chapter 14: Past
The debt is paid,
The verdict said,
The Furies laid,
The plague is stayed,
All fortunes made;
Turn the key and bolt the door,
Sweet is death forevermore.
Nor haughty hope, nor swart chagrin,
Nor murdering hate, can enter in.
All is now secure and fast;
Not the gods can shake the Past;
Flies-to the adamantine door
Bolted down forevermore.
None can re-enter there,—
No thief so politic,
No Satan with a royal trick
Steal in by window, chink, or hole,
To bind or unbind, add what lacked,
Insert a leaf, or forge a name,
New-face or finish what is packed,
Alter or mend eternal Fact.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Past
Caroline POV
"Bonnie!" I yelled, rushing to my best friend, but Kol already had her. Initially bending down at the added weight, he straightens up, properly placing one arm around her shoulders, and another under her knees, picking her up as though she weighs no more than a rag doll. There is a tender look I hadn't seen before in his eyes as he looks at her, something foreign on his handsome features.
Meeting Klaus's eyes once and exchanging a small nod, almost imperceptible, he flashes back to the house.
"We need to go back. Quick." I say, tugging on his jacket, trying to pull him back towards the house. He moves with me, however much slower than I intended.
"Slow down love. I think your friend Bonnie is going to be just fine." He said, taking my swinging hand as I walk. I scowl at him, confused.
"She's there. Unconscious. Alone. With Kol. What can go wrong?" I say sarcastically, hoping he'd get the picture. I hear Rebekah and Elijah fall in step behind us, headed back towards the mansion.
"He's not as much of a pervert as you make him out to be." He said in an understanding tone.
"Yes he is!" I heard Rebekah yell from behind us. Elijah laughs.
"BEKAH. I'm trying to make a point." He shouted back at his sister, turning to me, he continued, "Kol is different. He likes challenges, getting things that are unattainable. Witches intrigue him. I suspect that her refusal will only encourage him more…"
"So is this all a game?" I ask , beginning to understand, yet still defensive.
"In a way." He says, thinking a moment. "But, he means well. Helping her with her magic is probably a sign that he is at the very least interested."
Ugh. Living for a thousand years made you so damn complex. I mean look at the man next to me. Killer on one side, romantic on another. Cold and heartless on one side, passionate and tearful on another. Klaus, the hybrid. Nik, the man.
I wonder what I would be like in a thousand years. If I were still alive. With the rate things were going, I was lucky to live to see 2014.
The sky is stained as it sets a mosaic of purple, orange, and crimson. I hadn't realized how late it was. Gazing off beyond the expanse of the grounds, I see a shimmering golden wall. It's thin almost transparent, but it catches the last rays of sun, it burst into its own metallic light. The barrier. It must be. The gates of heaven protecting us from the hell outside. Though this heaven was home to monsters.
The side door is cracked open, mostly likely from Kol's hasty entry. Pushing it open, I walk inside, trailed by the rest of the Original family. Taking off my muddied boots and coat and leaving them there, I peeped my head into the living room.
Empty.
"Shit." I muttered, stalking up the stairs. Did he- No. He wouldn't.
I briefly consult the hallway. I had no idea which one was his room. However Klaus remedies that for me, opening a door further down the hall, next to Rebekah's.
Looking into the room, my eyes zoom into the focal point, the bed. Bonnie lay on it, her eyes closed, while Kol was nowhere to be found.
A crash eludes to his location, the bathroom. Coming out triumphant, he holds a bottle of something.
"I am a genius." He stated walking over to Bonnie's side, and pulling up a chair. He's shirtless, I notice, and changed out of his previously wet clothes.
"No, you're an idiot." Klaus says, rolling his eyes. I'm by Bonnie's side as well, brushing her hair away from her face. Kol rolls his eyes, while trying opening the bottle.
"I thought these would come in handy…" He said, through gritted teeth, tugging on the top, "Got it!" The thick smell of sandalwood and other strong herbs. Smelling salts.
He leaned Bonnie forward, sitting himself down behind me, and lifted the bottle to her nose. Klaus shifts uncomfortable at the scene. I realize as I try and take off her jacket, that she's soaked.
"I'm going to go get some clothes for Bonnie." I say to no one in particular, walking out of the room, trailed by Klaus. We walk straight into the bathroom, him stripping and turning on the shower, I searching through my closet. Bonnie's always been a size smaller than me, she's a lot shorter. But a sweatshirt and yoga pants should fit.
I grab clothes for myself, a pair of navy silk boy shorts, white lacy bra and matching underwear. Pulling them on, I walk out, still shirtless. Klaus is still in the shower as I walk past, going straight into his closet.
I go through the pile of Henley's, finding a paint stained white one, pulling it over my head. When I walk out, I hand Klaus another Henley and a pair of sweat pants. No underwear. He's only wearing a towel which he drops as soon as I walk into the room. I blush. He smirks. Rolling my eyes in frustration, I walk over to the sink, fixing my messy curls into a bun on my head. He's at the sink next to me, shaving.
"Keep the stubble." I say not even turning.
"Why love?" He says, stopping in mid cut.
"I like it. It tickles." I said, fixing the pins in my hair, pulling on a gray sweaty band to hold the rest of the hair back.
"Oh really?" He said reductively in my ear, still with the shaving cream on his face. Some of it smears on my neck.
"Klaus…" I moaned, leaning into the sensuality of the kisses that he plants in a path down my neck. Remembering Bonnie, I pull away. "I have to see Bonnie." I said, walking out of the room, the shaving cream still on my neck.
The door to Kol's room is slightly open. Hearing voices, I walk silently, eavesdropping.
"Where am I?" I hear Bonnie grumble.
"My room… You collapsed." Kol says, almost as though he's scared of her reaction. I peek through the crack in the door. Kol is still behind Bonnie, her head resting on his bare chest. She's looking up at him, with a mixed look of confusion, anger, and… happiness?
She struggled to get up, but he forced her back down, as she began to cough.
"Rest sweetheart, rest." He said soothingly. I felt like I was intruding on something I couldn't wrap around. Something magical. Something intimate.
"Thank you…" She said quietly, leaning into his chest, eyes closed. "I felt… better doing the spell. Different, from Shane's influence."
"Well, I've known enough witches in my day." He says, smirking a bit, though still stroking her hair. I chose that now is the best time of any to give her the stuff.
"Hey Bon? I brought you some stuff." I says, pushing open the door. Her eyes snap open, realizing her position, while Kol looks at me vividly. I was obviously interrupting.
"Thanks Care." She said, struggling to her feet, and taking the clothes from me, then walking into the bathroom.
Whispering to Kol, I say, "Tell her she can stay in the guest. And that we're having dinner soon."
Hearing the shower turn on, I walk out to find Rebekah.
*Bound By Blood*
Rebekah was in the kitchen, thinking the same thing as I was. Except she had a different idea of "prepare dinner."
She was ordering a team of chefs around the kitchen. I stared.
"Hello Caroline." She said turning around.
"What is this!" I yell, confused
"Nik's chefs… From DC." She said, as though it was completely normal.
I roll my eyes. I don't even want to ask. Yet, I knew I couldn't argue with it. He's lived like this for centuries. I should have expected it.
"So is this casual or do I need to get dressed up?" I ask, a tone of laughter, raising an eyebrow
"We're in the living room… So, no. How's Bonnie?" She asks, leading me into the living room.
"Good. I left her in Kol's room…" She laughs a bit, imagining what happened.
"And she didn't chop off his head?" I shake my head no, and she continues. "You know, dinner won't be ready for a couple of hours, do you want to watch a movie or something?" she seems nervous, like she's scared I'll say no. I won't.
Nodding my head, she beckons me upstairs, to her room.
Pushing open the door to her pink room, she walks in with purpose, climbing onto the bed and grabbing the remote.
"What do you want to watch?" She asks as I sit on the bed.
"Rom-Com?" I ask hopefully.
"Do you want to look through my collection? I don't know many of them. I'll get some nail polish."
I bend down going through the huge cabinet. It's alphabetized, extremely organized, though it only looked like only a couple had been watched. I suddenly felt sorry for Rebekah. She had gone to sleep in a time of black and white, gone to sleep with friends, and when she woke up, there was a world of color, full of enemies just because of her family. We shouldn't have blamed her.
She comes back into the room with a caddy full of colors, sitting them down on the bed.
"What did you choose?" She called, searching through the bucket.
"I like some of the older ones. Do you want to watch any of these?" I said, spilling out an arm full of movies. She goes through the stack, finding one.
"Stefan mentioned this to me once. Said it defined the 80's." Rebekah said, holding up The Breakfast Club. Smiling and popping it in, I sit back to look through the caddy.
The door bangs open, revealing Bonnie as the opening scene begins to roll. She dressed in the clothes I gave her, hair wet, her face a myriad of emotion.
"Hey Care, hey Rebekah." She said striking in the room and plopping down on the comforter. "Y'all up for girl talk?"
*Bound By Blood*
Sitting on the bed, Bonnie took a deep breath before freaking out.
"So you know when we lost Klaus and Kol in the woods?" She said, speaking fast, not even pausing for me to nod. "So he found me when I was alone. He came up behind me so I didn't see, and then he pours snow down my back." I laugh at this, but the glare she gives me, I stop.
"So I push him. And so I'm on top of his and, and I don't know!" I can see where this is going, Rebekah too.
"I kissed him. I kissed him." She said, hanging her head in her hands.
"It's ok Bonnie…" I say, trying to be comforting.
"Was it good?" Rebekah asked seriously. Bonnie looks at her incredulously. "Well was it?
Bonnie guiltily nods her head. Rebekah smiles.
"Then don't feel guilty. Let it happen." She says. Going on her thought, adding my own I say,
"Take a chance, Bonnie. You never know until you try."
Her expression lightens, relieved. Maybe she's just as scared of not being accepted as the rest of us.
We turn back to normal girl talk, painting our nails and listening to the movie.
*Bound By Blood*
The food in the living room is laid out on the sideboard, behind one of the largest couches.
Klaus and Kol are dressed casually, while Elijah, ever formal, is still in his suit.
Klaus has a large book in his hands, the others like it lying next to him, while Kol stares at laptop, searching for something. Elijah goes through the bookshelf, looking at covers and throwing out books as he went.
Grabbing one of the plates, containing steak I sit down next to Klaus looking over his shoulder.
"What are you looking at?" I ask, taking the first bite of my food. It's good. Really really good.
"Life." He says simply. The cover of the book is labeled, in a language I don't recognize. His native language, Norse, probably.
He shows me the book. The crackling paper is ancient, drawings, each with the same signature.
"Is that from when we were still human?" Kol asks sitting down next to Klaus. He does answer, merely moving the book into his sight line.
The first page is a family portrait, done is charcoal.
The mother, Ester, stands in the middle of her sons, though the two youngest, Rebekah and another boy, probably Hendrik, stand with one of her hands on each of theirs.
The father, the dreaded Mikael, is to the right of Ester, with a long broad sword clasp downward in his hands. His expression is dark, as though ready to strike anyone with that huge sword at a moment's notice.
Finn, his hair long and scars already marring his face, is directly behind his mother. The warrior, his expression shows little emotion.
Elijah, dark and handsome, is on the left of the witch. He has a bit of a smile on his face. The artist, Klaus, must have not been caught up in the turmoil of Tatia yet, drew him in a favorable light.
Kol, an awkward boy, stand near Elijah, with a hopeful look on his face. Sharing the elder's good looks, there's a certain light to his face that's always been there.
Klaus was off to the side, almost separated from the rest of the family. The look in his eyes was serious, as though he was already the hardened man of today, while his hair was long and curly.
The second drawing is of life. Life as humans.
There's one of Finn and Elijah fighting, with wooden swords. Another of Rebekah trailing behind her mother in a market.
One of Kol holding Hendrik in a headlock playfully, while the other brothers look on, cheering. One of the falls.
Mikael does not appear anywhere.
I see almost a break in the sketches, as though years pass.
The next is done in color.
A trio, Elijah, Rebekah, and Klaus. Time has obviously passed considering the clothing, and the goblets of blood in the sibling's hands. He captured their faces, such joy, such passion. They still had their humanity.
More come. Cities, filled with the power of the siblings. I flip faster and faster through the pages looking for the disconnect.
The last time Elijah appears is one of him and a woman. Katherine. They appear to be chasing each other presumably in a garden, noting the clear pathways and flowers. They appear… happy, a kind of light in their eyes that would be lost. The human look of Katherine and the look Elijah once wore as human returned.
After there is only Rebekah, sometimes cities, landscapes. Rarely himself.
The sketches become photos, turning with the years. War photos begin to crop up, with the arrival of Kol, dressed in a Union blue uniform.
"You fought in the Civil War?" I look up to see Bonnie looking at the album as well.
Kol's eyes look haunted, miles away at bloody battle fields where the unspeakable horrors of man stained the ground.
"I did. It was a horrible time, when men lost their humanity." He finally answered touching the photograph. Klaus turned the page.
Taped to the page were a quartet of tickets, and a picture, of the four siblings dressed to the nines at a theater. A famous one, and show I might add, looking at the tickets. Lincoln's assassination.
"Did you kill him?" I ask, tapping the pieces of paper. Elijah chuckles.
"Merely watched history be made love." Klaus answered, smirking. I bet he knew it was going to happen.
The photos begin again, of the quartet. They seem to be somewhere far South, outside of a bar, called Le Voleur judging by the sign, with a man. He is smiling, perfectly relaxed with the Originals, in between Klaus and Kol.
"Ah, Marcel…. Is he still alive?" Kol asks.
"Last I heard."
"Who's Marcel?" I ask, wondering about the man who could see so at ease with the Originals.
"He's a vampire, an old one. I turned him when I was at Versailles, during the reign of Louis the… Fourteenth wasn't it Rebekah? Anyways, we saw him again in New Orleans, where he fled during the French Revolution. Ran a supernatural "hot spot" called Le Voleur. It's still around, so I'm told."
He turns the page, to reveal war splayed out across it. The First, of the World Wars, I guess.
"It was horrible." Elijah said, who I had not noticed peering over my shoulder. "Mustard gas, and all that new technology. Such a waste. Such a waste."
"I worked as a nurse. The men, some lost their limbs, their eyes, their souls." Rebekah said, shuddering.
The pictures change to a happier time, the Roaring 20's. Stefan entering the pictures, he's dancing with Rebekah, drinking with Klaus, having fun.
Then the group shots stop. Klaus is alone, as he almost foreshadowed what was to happen in his first portrait.
The 30's, he's somewhere in Europe, looking out over a huge parade. Another, he's shaking the hand of Hitler. Still more, there's one of him talking to Roosevelt, Churchill, other famous men.
The 40's. Klaus, in an army uniform. Battles captured. Then, most stunning of all. Some ordinary ones. Him in an office. What was he doing there?
"I was as a spy during the Second War." He said, noticing my confusion. Seeing my raised eyebrow, he continues, "After the Germans took the Continent, I visited one of their "concentration camps." Even I could appreciate the beauty of genocide. I joined the British, since the Nazis already knew of services. They put me as a Double Agent."
"Playing Bond, brother?" Kol asked, joking about one of the few movies he had seen in this decade.
"No, but I knew the creator and inspiration." He answered bluntly.
"MI5 was really a work of art. They wanted us to make the Germans believe that the plan for D-Day was invading at Calais, instead of Normandy, facilitated by spies. They organized us, an eccentric group, a Spanish chicken farmer, who created his own world where a massive force existed, a Serbian play boy, who embezzled the Germans' funds for our own; a Polish Patriot who triple-crossed the Germans, creating the armies. I was quite useful, compulsion and all. I did murder a couple of people." I stare at him incredulously, he did something good?
"All for the greater good, sweetheart. I did my part in the war, even a month after the invasion the Germans still believed that there was an invasion coming at Calais."
He turns the page then, clearly shutting that chapter of history.
The 50's, he's traveling. There are some pictures of him with Stalin, a couple with Eisenhower. Nothing big or notable.
The 60's. There are pictures of him at marches, dressed like a hippy. Him with famous figures, JFK and Jackie, having tea. MLK, at a rally most likely. The most surprising, one of the last, painting with Andy Warhol, side by side.
The 70's. More protests, more rallies. Different clothes, more hippish. Concerts. Something about this decade screamed music. Pictures of him with those hardcore rock bands, seemed to bring a smile to my face. He was a bit of a fan too, still human in the way.
The 80's. The tune changes. Looking like a rebel off the street, he wore leather. Lots of it, with ripped pants and a vagrant attitude. He moved around a lot I could tell, yet, he still made time for art. He truly painted with the greats of every age, Jasper Johns, de Kooning, and more. Yet, he seemed to have always been in the action. The picture of him, near the fallen Berlin Wall say that much.
The pictures stop at the 90's as though he went into hiding, or just hot on the trail of Katherine.
"Wow." I say, searching for words.
"What that I'm that old, or the history, love?" He says, closing the book.
"Both. Neither. I don't know!" I giggle. We're still at the awkward stage, not knowing what to do next.
Sitting in silence, still processing everything, Rebekah and Elijah get up, each bidding us good night. Bonnie leaves soon after, saying she needs to check on her own house. Kol retires nearly immediately after. Walking up the stairs behind him, I stop almost hesitate at the door to Kla-our room.
Pushing open the door, I walk into the room, laying down on my side of the bed. Ever since our first night together, I had claimed the left side of the massive bed. He comes out of the bathroom, just in a pair of boxers, and lies down next to me. I turn to him, so that we both are facing each other.
"Thank you… Klaus. For showing me that. I know your past means a lot to you." I say planting a tender kiss on his cheek.
"The past is the past, love, good and bad. We can't change it. We can only change the future." He says, returning my kiss.
"Why aren't you a poet?" I groan, laughing a bit at his "philosophical" quote.
"Because I'm an artist." He said, playing with my hair, before rolling over and turning off the light, meeting my lips once again.
"You are Mr. Mikealson, indeed you are."