prompt: "a kiss that was never given." written for day two of klarolineauweek, and i was asked for angst, so here it is. just a warning. very loosely based on the events in reign. warning: this does not include a happy ending. read at your own risk. anyways, i hope you all enjoy this one.
- shauna! xo
Heaven always took the loveliest angels, that's what her father always told her, even from being very young. It was what he had said when her mother had passed, and what he'd said every other time she had lost another loved one.
His big, brown eyes were full of sadness as he'd peered down at her.
She'd had tears in her small eyes, as she stared back up at him.
"Daddy," her small voice had broke. "Why did they take her from us?"
There were tears in his own eyes, as he'd sat down beside her, and he'd placed her in his own lap, his big arms encasing her in his embrace. A sob had got caught in her throat, as she'd twisted in his arms, until she could stare up at him.
"Why, daddy. Why?" she'd persisted, her jade eyes full of anguish.
"Because, Care-bear," her father had told her, his hand smoothing over her blonde curls. "Heaven always takes the loveliest angels."
Even her five year old self knew he meant that as comforting, but it only made her cry harder, and her small body shook with it, her body caving in on itself as she'd sobbed hysterically, and even her father's comfort did nothing to save her.
"You'll see her again," he'd promised her, somewhere in between the soothing words. "That much, I can promise you. After you've married, ruled for a long while, and had your own children, you'll see her again. When it's your turn to visit Heaven, and I promise to wait for you there, my beautiful daughter."
She sniffles as she manages to look up at him.
"You promise?"
He smiles slightly, though Caroline knows it's forced.
"I promise, Care,"
And that was a phrase she'd carry around with her, her entire life. Even when it was discovered that her father had fallen ill, not a few years later, and it was one that Scotland's best doctors had assured her, that he would not recover from.
Maybe that's when she became so cynical in the belief of religion and God, because what sort of God would leave her alone in this world? What sort of God would take away the people that mean the most to her?
She's thirteen, at her father's funeral, and the guard's escort her, as she presses a kiss to her father's black coffin, letting a soft smile after.
It's morbid in a sad kind of way.
"Heaven's got a new angel," she sighs.
The guard's escort her back, as they are still not certain that there is no threat on her life, following the death of the king, and apparently they can't have that, since she is now technically the Queen of Scotland. At thirteen years old. She isn't sure how she feels about that, or what she's supposed to do with that. Most importantly, however, she is not married, and her father's closest Lord's are already trying to arrange an advantageous marriage to an upcoming King.
(They aren't as stealthy as they believe themselves to be.)
It's that night, after Caroline has received many condolences about her father's passing, that she is dragged along to a formal meeting in the throne room, and asked to sit down on the throne that is apparently rightfully hers now, with a crown placed on her head. Honestly, it's just so strange, because her father has barely been gone hours, and here she is, with people telling her that she has to rule a kingdom.
How was she supposed to do that?
"Your Grace," she is greeted, as she walks into the room.
She nods, once, and her maid's are there, helping her with her long, black dress, as she'd worn for her father's funeral, encouraging her forward.
There's two Lord's waiting for her, and she vaguely recalls once of them.
"Lord Narcisse," Caroline greets, with a forced smile.
"My young Queen," he bows.
She bites her lip at that.
"Why am I being summoned?" She asks, her question directed at him.
She watches as he exchanges looks with another Lord she does not recognise.
"May I be frank?" He asks.
Caroline raises an eyebrow.
"Of course. Please, be clear."
"We feel you should be sent away, for a short while until you reach marriageable age. As do most of the people here."
Caroline's eyebrows furrow at that.
"Who would take care of my kingdom?" she demands.
Lord Narcisse smiles at her.
"Your Uncle is more than willing to step in, for the short while until you can be married, and bring strength and unity to Scotland," he informs her.
Caroline straightens her back, as she narrows her eyes.
"Am I to assume that you have found a partner for that advantageous marriage you so desire me to have, my Lord?" she asks.
He nods once.
"His Royal Highness Prince Niklaus of France."
And that's the first time she hears of her future husband.
-/-
So, Caroline goes to convent, and she enjoys it. She's surrounded by girls her own age, who teach her many things. Most of which, she hopes will help her become a great Queen, for when she is summoned back to the country.
That summoning comes when she reaches eighteen years old.
However, she is not summoned to her own country. Word has come, and she is to be sent to France, to meet her fiance, and marry him, so that she can become a legitimate Queen, and bring strength and power to her country. Apparently the English were preparing to attack again, and they were running out of soldiers to send.
She feels sick, herself, at the amount of people that have died to protect her. To protect her crown.
Especially the young girl in the convent, who had died by tasting a dish that was meant for her.
She is placed in a beautiful dress, by the nuns at the convent, and they help her with her hair, until she actually feels like the Princess, that she knows she is. With hugs, and reassuring squeezes to her hand, she is placed into a carriage, and the home she's known for the past few years, disappears into the distance.
The journey only takes a few days, she knows that, but it feels like an eternity before the carriage is coming to a halt, alongside the millions of guards that had been sent along with her, for her protection. There's a loud sound, and then her name is announced.
"Presenting Her Majesty, Queen Caroline of Scotland."
The doors are opened, and then there's a few sets of hands, ready to help her out of the carriage. She takes a few careful steps, until she can brush out the kinks from her dress. There's lots of people, staring at her, and it's something she's not use to. Honestly, she can barely remember the last time she was surrounded by this many people.
Possibly the last time she was at court. At her court.
And that feels like a lifetime ago.
When her head tilts to the side, she sees a few of her ladies, and she grins, as they rush over to her, fawning over her.
"Caroline."
"Caroline."
"Caroline."
She laughs quietly as they circle in, trying to hug each other.
"Oh, we've missed you," Elena tells her.
"Elena, Bonnie, Katerina," she addresses them individually. "Oh, we're all together again."
More hugs, and Bonnie twists her around, until she can face the large opening throughout the crowd that the guard's had done. She can see King Ansel's arrival, followed by his mistress, Aurora, and eventually Queen Esther, who she's heard many bad things about, even at the convent.
She hears mutterings behind her, but her eyes are open, as she searches the crowd.
She was here for one reason, and one reason only, after all. To marry the next King of France.
She doesn't hear his introduction, but she hears his footsteps, and he's entering from her right. Her head twists, and her gaze flickers up until they can rest on his face. His very handsome face, as it so turns out, and she lets out a sharp breath, biting her lip, when she hears the chattering behind her.
Straightening her shoulders, she takes a few steps forward to meet him.
He bows before her.
"Your Grace," he greets immediately, and his accent is unlike anything she's ever heard. So familiar, yet so unfamiliar.
It was not like she'd ever visited his country after all.
His voice is smooth, his accent lilting the words carefully, and Caroline finds that her eyes are drawn to his lips. His very red lips, that are twisted up into a smirk, when he notices her staring. His smile causes his dimples to protrude, and she can't help but notice how adorable they make him look. She coughs, as her eyes flicker back up to his very blue ones, which are intense, and focused firmly onto hers.
Shaking her head slightly, as though to clear her head, she finally finds her voice.
"Caroline, please," she insists.
He smiles in response.
"Klaus," he murmurs.
"Klaus," she breathes, in acknowledgement, and honestly, she's ashamed at how breathy that comes out. Completely not appropriate for a woman of her status, as her eyes travel down her form.
He's still smirking as he steps forward, and when she looks up, he has an arm outstretched for her, his palm facing up.
"May I?" he murmurs.
Her eyes catch his once more, as she steps into him, and maybe she's too forward, for a lady, but she finds she doesn't give much thought to what others will think of her, not in the least.
"You may," she smiles, and she puts her gloved hand in his.
Klaus twists them around to face his parents, and she stares straight ahead, as they walk towards the castle, letting out a sharp breath as she does so.
She could do this. She had to do this, for the good of her country.
Caroline feels a soft squeeze to her hand, and her eyes dart to the left, only to find Klaus staring down at her, and she's sure his gaze is supposed to be reassuring, as his blue eyes peer down at her. She doesn't smile, but her eyes soften in response, and her lips press firmly together, as she gives him a single nod.
"It'll be alright," he murmurs. "You'll be alright."
For the first time in years, she starts to believe that.
(Even if it is only a lie that she tells herself to make herself get through the following months.)
-/-
From the first day that she'd been at French Court, Caroline didn't have all that much to do, and even though she was a Queen, she was not involved in the meetings or the building of an alliance between Scotland and France. Caroline put the blame on the fact that she was a woman, and young women were not given the liberties that men were.
Not at this time.
Caroline didn't conform to what was suspected of her. She was not prepared to cower, and the Queen of France did not like that very much. Caroline got the feeling that she did not want her to marry her son either. Like Caroline, she did not have much of a say in that either.
So, Caroline spends time with Klaus. A lot of time, and most of her days.
They go out of the castle grounds, and they explore, for the lack of a better term.
She finds that she enjoys spending time with him, she really does, and she honestly thinks that she's at least half way in love with him, already, even if they'd only been introduced a few weeks ago.
It's one day, when Klaus' father had announced the date of their wedding, that they were to be married the week after, when Klaus takes her outside of the grounds, a smile pulling at his lips, as they walk around the gardens.
"I do apologise for my father," he tells her.
She twists to face him, an eyebrow raising.
"It is mandatory we marry, I well aware of that fact, but I did hope that we could have our own say in that, and I was wishing that as we have come to get to know one another, you do not find the idea of marrying me so distasteful."
Caroline knows he's referencing shortly after they had first met. He was a smug, arrogant ass then, and she did not answer very well to that, but so much has happened since then, and she finds she does like him. Probably more than she should.
She merely smiles on response, and Klaus lets out a shaky breath before he shakes his head.
"My father may not have given you much choice in the matter," he murmurs, "But I will. I would like to rephrase what was surely supposed to be a question."
Caroline's eyes are wide, as he drops down to one knee.
Future Kings do not kneel before anyone.
He seems to smile, at her flabbergasted look.
"So," he laughs quietly, his hand running through his blond locks. "My lovely Caroline, will you please do me the honour of becoming my wife, and ruling the kingdom by my side?"
She laughs at that, shaking her head softly.
"Of course," she tells him, and she dunks, bouncing down, until her lips can press against his.
Klaus lands with an umph, when she knocks him backwards, and she giggles into his mouth, when his fingers press against her corset, pulling her more firmly against him. She grins, into his mouth, when his tongue swipes out against her bottom lip, until she opens up for him. He groans into her mouth, and one hand comes up to cup her head, his fingers tangling in her blonde curls, careful not to touch the crown on her head.
Somewhere in between, Caroline finds it's her who is on her back, and she smiles, her forehead pressing to his as Klaus pulls away with one last peck to her lips.
"There is another situation what we need to discuss," he murmurs.
Her forehead crinkles slightly, as she pulls her forehead away from his, so that she can look into his eyes properly.
"And what might that be?"
"I am going to assist the soldiers tonight."
Um, what?
Her eyes widen, and she starts to shake her head.
"No."
Klaus' hand finds hers, and his fingers curl around hers.
"I have to. I have to offer what help I can, to my country," he murmurs.
"You can't do that. They won't let you. You're the next King of France, your country needs you well and alive." Because, well, it wasn't exactly unknown that Ansel had fallen ill, not too long ago, and though he was still ruling, most knew it was only a matter of time.
"My father has already agreed," he tells her.
Her forehead crinkles.
"Why?"
"The English are rapidly approaching," he tells her. "We know it will only be a matter of time before war breaks out, and my father would like to take a few of the English guard's, before they can reach the castle, and we do not have many soldiers that can help. So, I agreed, as have many other lords at the castle, and other allies we have nearby."
Caroline feels the colour drain from her face.
"No, you cannot-"
"I must," he tells her. "No worries, I will return to you. As I always shall. I'm indestructible, as you murmur in mockery. Remember?"
She knows that. She's teased him relentlessly, since he seems to never die, but she doesn't truly mean it. He could just so easily be taken from her.
"You can't. You'll die, and you can't!" Caroline persists. "We are to be married within the week, you can't leave me."
"I won't," he promises, and his eyes are full of it. "I shall return to you. I vow that to you, my queen, and we will rule, for a great, long while."
Honestly, she's not sure if she believes him, but she's desperate now.
"Kiss me," she pleads, and her fingers curl around his neck. "Just- kiss me."
"No."
She raises an eyebrow.
"You're refusing to kiss me?"
He smiles slightly.
"Never, my love. I will, when I return, healthy, and I finally become your husband and you become mine."
She releases a shaky breath, and she smiles.
"As you wish," she sighs.
He smiles in response, and his arms curl around her, pulling her into his chest.
"We'll see each other, again. I promise you that."
(He never did mention when or where she'd see him again.)
-/-
The news reaches her, not twenty four hours later.
There's much noise in the castle, and Caroline is ussured out into the throne room. What she sees there, takes her breath away, and not in a good way.
Klaus has returned, but he looks pale, too pale, and most importantly, there is a metal pole sticking out of his chest.
Caroline does not even know if she's breathing at this moment, if she's even crying, but suddenly she's aware of her legs failing her, and she's falling to a pile on the floor. Her hands reach for her chest, and a loud sob escapes her chest, as she rocks back and forth.
"The Prince is dead."
The words are from behind her, but she doesn't know who's said them, her eyes are too focused on the scene in front of her.
No.
No no no no no no.
He can't be dead.
"You promised," she sobs, and her voice breaks.
It feels like she's paralysed, as though she can't breathe, and she doesn't really want to. She just wants to join him, she wants to be with him, because she loves him. She loves him so much, and he doesn't even know.
Her heart aches, she aches, and the tears are streaming endlessly down her face, which show no sign of stopping, because this can't be the end. Not of him.
And once more, her father's words reach her.
"Heaven always did take the loveliest angels."
And Heaven just got one more.
so there that one is.
i realise that this may not be everybody's cup of tea, but i was specifically asked for angst so here this one is. anyways, i hope you all managed to like it, anyways. let me know what you think in a review, i'd love to hear from you!
- shauna! xo
