A/N: I know it's been years...and yet somehow inspiration came knocking at my door...so here we are.
Special Note:
I know these days are hard. I hope you are all safe and healthy. Please stay at home. Don't take any risks and I hope this makes the quarantine a little bit more tolerable and takes your mind off things.
Many thanks to my beta Anastasia Dreams!
Summary:
More often than not, a blessing from the Gods is the mortal's curse. Everyone knew the tale of the cursed Oracle the God of the Sun had damned. How disbelief in her blood prophecy condemned Troy to fall. But, no one knew the truth beyond the legend, the true story of love and hatred that spanned the ages.
Klaroline Greek Mythology AU / Dark [Six-Shot]
Loosely based on the myth of the Sun God Apollo and Troy's Oracle Cassandra.
Warnings:
Dark mature themes.
&Since the story is basically based on Greek tragedy expect a lot of...tragedy.
.
Disclaimer:
I own only my imagination.
.
.
Useful information:
.
.
The mentioned Olympian Gods in this story are:
.
.
Apollo: Klaus
Zeus: Mikael
Hera: Esther
Poseidon: Elijah
Ares: Kol
Aphrodite: Rebekah
Hades: Finn
Athena: Bonnie
…
Clotho - Κλωθώ: Tatia
Lachesis - Λάχεση : Katherine
Atropos - Άτροπος : Amara
Stefan: Hector.
Damon: Paris.
Elena: Helen of Troy
Caroline: Cassandra.
Elizabeth (Liz) : Queen Hecuba
William (Bill) : King Priam
.
.
Πράξη Πρώτη: Αμαρτία
(Act I: Hamartia*)
.
.
.
.
~ A Touch of Fate ~
.
.
.
.
Segesta. Sicily
.
.
Fingers pristine, young and old tangled and untangled the threads in the loom. The soft swishing of each fiber echoed beginning and end, hope and devastation. The fated threads tangled eternally, twisting a chaotic knot at the feet of Fates. Each fate beginning in the womb, each fate ending in the Underworld. All predestined, all eclipsed, all yet to be born... all destined to die.
Κλωθώ smiled and the ethereal airyfingers brought the threads to life. Λάχεση breathed and the human hands smooth like honey and hard like marble cast luck and led a life to its purpose. Άτροπος whispered and the bony decaying fingers cut.
And now they gathered. All Three. Hidden from the Sun, showing in the Thunder.
It was time. The Gods were swarming at the echoes of the fallen city before it fell.
It was time.
Time for legends to be born. Time for legends to be told. Time for legends to die.
It was time. So close. Fast approaching.
The threads were flowing like a river from the hands of the Fates into the loom's wheels but there were many threads that created one fate and that fate began with the petals of a rose, with poison and dreams.
The girl was born, the girl was alive, the girl-
'Ατροποςfelt the threads around her neck twisting. A mockery of what she had yet failed to do, would fail to do, was failing in doing. Her hands would soon be bound by creatures undead, by legends that would never die for as long humans lived. Her sisters had no words of comfort to give. It was Fate.
It was Fate that would begin with a God's curse but… which God's?
It didn't matter. It was not just one curse. It was not just one God. It was not just one mortal. Fates were intertwining. Blessings and curses were one and the same. The wheel of fortune was spinning and spinning, weaving the threads into motion, passing them into the hands of the Fates, always justly, always without mercy, always with finality.
Each thread vibrated for those that knew how to listen. Each thread had a story to share. Each thread had colours and music. Each was a tale to be told and none more glorious and more tragic than the inevitable rise and fall of Troy. A tale of love, a tale of tragedy. A tragedy that would echo timelessly, a love that would walk in light and death eternally.
*Sisters wisely choose your masks.*
Κλωθώ sang in soft whispers that rose like the echoes of bells in the distance. Her soft finger traced the thread of sunshine gold. Of death undone, of love unbound, of destiny and glory.
A breath of life escaped her lips as her features changed soon to take feminine shape followed close by the change of her sisters' faces.
Identical mortal beauty carved immortally in their doe eyes and cherry lips, creating in the mirrors of mist and smoke an appeal to the God of Kings visage. To tempt, to seduce, to pacify. To bring new life.
*The King of the Gods soon comes.*
Λάχεση prophesied in a dulcet tone that accompanied her new vocal cords. She caressed the thread of gold and darkness and saw the purpose in all that was to come. She blessed and breathed and felt her sister's agony for what was about to begin, for what 'Ατροποςwould fail to do.
But it was time. No one could escape Fate. Not even them.
Long hair now framed her face like silk and dark honey.
It was time for the Fates to appear to Mikael in faces he would like, in faces he would trust, in faces he would not be threatened by as he would soon yield to his Fate as all others, mortals and Gods always did.
*Heralds Troy's Fall in Thunder and Wind.*
'Ατροπος hissed and prepared herself for all the threads she would cut, all the threads that would soon echo in history and legend, but her nail grazed only the thread of blood and night. The one and only she would never cut. The one from which tangled thorns from the mouths of creatures of the night would spring out to twist around her hands and bind her.
Her face too changed to welcome the King of Gods. Her olive skin shone taking away the shade of death.
Mikael's approach was close. And soon he would bring with him new death and doom and the twilight that was yet to come. He brought with him the beginning of Troy's fall and unbeknownst to him the Fate of all the Gods.
Those that were born and those…that were yet to come.
The three sisters now shared the same face as they shared the same voice.
The Moirai now sang as one.
*Thread eternally twined. Hear our decree. There will be no plea.*
.
.
Ancient Greece.
Year 1282 BC
.
.
Through colors, no mortal eye could gaze upon the King of the Gods as walked floors made of ebony and gold and his thunders raged upon Olympus. Mikael strode towards his mammoth throne and sat on the golden seat, ears focusing on the world hearing the prayers of the mortals as they soared high to the ethers and reached him.
Troy was lost to him.
He had lost it and there was no getting it back. His name was erased from the foundations of Ilium as more and more temples were raised in the name of the Sun God. Now the patron God of Troy.
One more victory against him. One more slight to His name.
The worst part was that he could not intervene. Not without causing discord among the Olympians. Niklaus played by the rules, Mikael had written as unbreakable among their kin.
Mist and shadows withered around the throne as Mikael's lips curled in distaste. So many Gods around the small world lay beneath his feet but one God of all shared the most prayers and it was not Him.
Apollo...Niklaus. Laments and sacrifices rained in all of his names. The sly bastard had managed to infiltrate every religion and every corner of the mortal world. His face had the most names and his power and influence were surpassing even His.
The Throne and the mantle of the King seemed to be a stolen token given to Him by the mercy and indifference of his most despised son. A constant mockery.
Mikael closed his ears to the world underneath and opened his eyes, searching for the key to destroy the never-ending nuisance that caused Him ache.
The Three appeared before his gaze that cut through reality. He sensed them in one of their sacred temples as they wove the thread of Fates. The Goddesses were in the city of Segesta. Together. In flesh and bone. Deep inside the recesses of the Doric Temple, their immortal binds joined the mortal world. They were singing and giving praise to the destinies ahead. Waiting patiently for all they knew was soon to come.
Such a peculiar thing. For them to leave the mortals and lock themselves into the Temple like that. In silence. Away from the Raven's eye.
A truly rare occasion as they hardly ever gathered at once for more than fleeting moments in any temple. They would not even step foot on Olympus aside from the moments they stood or sat beside his throne when He summoned them. And then only if they deigned to grace Him with their presence.
Their duty always carried them off to the mortal lands with every birth coming to the world and not even He or any other God could interfere with their comings and goings.
His sharp nails tapped against the gilded arm of his throne.
There was no such thing as a coincidence. Their gathering tempted Fate because it created Fate and Fate now called him. He felt it in His bones. He was the one summoned.
Like a child they summoned Him.
His hands stilled, His thunders fading in echoing blasts, His bolts no longer tormenting the mortal world to soothe His unending rage.
Mikael felt restless and drawn to Segesta now more than ever as the callings of the mortals reverberated in His ears calling for the Wolf before all others.
The King of the Gods watched the flames that danced on the torches and ignited heat on the top of Mount Olympus as their smoke carried the blessings from the sacrificial fires that raged on the lands of Troy in the name of their protector.
The God of the Sun. The God of the Plague.
Mikael's lips twisted in distaste. Plague was what Niklaus was.
Troy had been taken out of his grasp when everyone knew the city to be touched by greatness. He did not have to be an Oracle like Klaus or one of the Fates to know that it was a land soon to be turned to a mortal legend that would carry its myth through the ages. Forever. It was written in every stone. To every molecule of air. It vibrated to the walls and the gates and to every living soul. A sensation every God felt. It was a legend in the making. Waiting to leave its mark to history and Niklaus now owned it.
Lately, most of the prayers devoted to Niklaus were coming from Troy as the wretched God of the Sun took the city under his wing and was declared Ilium's patron God.
For ages, Niklaus seemed to not care for Troy's existence but that suddenly changed. Radically. Overnight. Obsessively. All of the sudden his ravens were flying all over the city. Day and night. For decades. Weaving his presence into every living soul in Troy. He even walked among the mortals and granted gifts to Morpheus so to claim even the dreams of those that resided in the city.
His acolytes flooded the city and harped his song to everyone that could hear and Niklaus was more possessive over Troy than he had been for any other city in forever. He was vigilant and was spending more and more time in the temples of that city not allowing any other presence of any other God to outshine him.
For some reason, He felt that Troy was integral to Niklaus' rise or fall. He had to know and understand why that city was suddenly so important to him. It couldn't be just for the allure it held. No. Niklaus' connection seemed to be personal somehow.
Mikael rested his head back against the throne. The Fates taunted him with their calling. They held all the answers He wanted, that much He knew. He could not deny their invitation. Not when Klaus' influence was becoming bigger far more complex that He could have ever anticipated. He had to put a halt to it. Contain it somehow before it spread and swallowed them all. It was not just a matter of pride. It was a matter of survival. Not every God would survive the Twilight and the stronger Niklaus was becoming the weaker the rest were turning. Including Him.
He needed answers.
And the only ones that could give Him the answers He sought were the Fates and that should come to pass before the eye of the Oracular God intercepted Him once more.
He had to be smart and elude the ravens.
Every time the Fates had graced Him with their presence in Olympus, Niklaus' Ravens flew close, undetected in shadows and dreams.
The Fates never took sides but Niklaus was always at their side, intertwined with their gift. When the Fates sang along with the Sirens, of all the things that were, the things that are, and all the things that are to be, Klaus was there to reminded Him that he knew the song before it was uttered from their lips. Always one step ahead, evading Fate and manipulating it.
The Fates did not discriminate. Klaus liked to mock Him. So, they also claimed. And it was true they rarely meddled in human affairs and the rare times they left the mortal world they were always drawn around his Throne in Olympus and around Finn's Throne in the Underworld. Despite their claims however to never to take sides, somehow, Niklaus' had found himself in their favor. He knew the answers to all the questions because he knew the questions beforehand.
While He, as the King of Gods, could on occasion intercept the degree of the Fates, He could not deny the inflexible nature of their will. He, like anyone else, had to wait for the predetermined course of events to come to pass only to intercept it in the opportune moment and even so Fate would still find a way to become inescapable.
Niklaus though…he had the advantage. He could see into Fate before it happened. He didn't have to wait for it to unfold. He didn't have to get caught up in the strings. And whatever his sight didn't reveal to him, his ravens did.
He, the King of Gods, had to submit to the Fates but Niklaus did not yield, he danced with them and in doing so he mocked His reign.
This time had to be different. This time he had to entice the Fates to his side. A dangerous game as the three terrible Goddesses were always intertwined with Niklaus' gift of prophecy that pierced the unknown shadows of destiny but alas they did not bow to him. Nor to any other God.
Not unless they wanted to.
Not unless it was… fated.
.
.
Segesta. Italy.
.
.
Far away from Segesta's cool night lighting, thunder loomed in Troy's horizon. Mikael did not have to be an oracle to foresee the black wings that would fan out above that city. Klaus' ravens would be sent there before the first thunder tore the clouds. They would want to see what had tempted his wrath. They would want to spill secrets to their master. But Mikael knew that as long as Niklaus' ravens were in Troy they would not be in Segesta.
It was a very small window of opportunity. One he had to fully take advantage of. And he would.
He felt it in his bones. The answers he sought for so long were in Segesta this night. His fingers itched. There was a need inside him roaring with excitement and dread. But he kept it all contained and each step he took was silent. There were no flashes of bright illuminating the Italian night. Lightning and roaring thunder did not escort his footsteps. The world did not wake to embrace him as he descended to the mortal realm.
Instead he kept his form wrapped in silence and human binds. The same he used when he approached the beautiful women he desired. Tonight, he would not use his fabricated reflection to seduce and bed a beauty or part wisdom and judgment to the humans that attracted his attention. Tonight, he did not care for the mortal prayers or the sacrifices in his name.
Tonight, he would dance with the Fates which meant that the three sisters had already set the music and awaited him at their loom.
Still, even as he stepped closer and closer to the Three, he kept an eye out for Troy. The city's promise lingered in his every step. In his every thought tonight. He heard the same devastation and echo of legend and in the center of it, Niklaus' despicable name was a burning signature, shining as brightly as the Sun.
His robes rustled and he smiled when he felt the favor of the Fates upon him. He had already given them multiple boons for this night, and he would give them just as many if they gave him what he wanted.
Their threads oscillated in their unyielding hands and he could feel them. It was as if their imaginary ribbons wrapped around him and pulled him closer and closer to the truth.
Troy's threads of life and death echoed with chants on the name of the wolf God and of the rest of the Grecian Gods. That knowledge, set in stone now, turned his smile to a grimace.
Known it was now to the Fates and all the Gods that in Ilium most of the offerings and the prayers, if not all, belonged to the God that had graced the city with his light. Klaus bestowed to Troy his divine sanction and fortune years ago and only the Fates knew the reason for his divine intervention that gifted the city with prosperity and growth.
The Fates that would whisper their secret to the King of Gods soon enough. A secret untold, a secret told.
Shadows danced in the walls and flickered.
Mikael could almost hear them. He could hear their chattering without their lips moving at all.
They had to remember now that they prattled on. They had to remember their names and they had to remember their secrets. It was Fated to happen.
The King of the Gods sauntered into their Temple and the Fates graced him with their beauty. One breath from their lips and their names rose in the air and caressed the King's ears.
Many names they shared in the dark, each name and a smile. Nona, Decima, Morta the Romans called them. The Greeks spoke of Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos. Human words, human fears, human praises. But none was true. And all were true.
And the Fates carried on their duty with each new name.
What was their name tonight? Which was their grace? What was their truth?
Tonight they had to present themselves to the Gods' anointed by Fate Ruler. Anointed by them.
In his honor, they had to share a face. They had to adorn their face with beauty and youth. It did not matter what was lying underneath. They were nameless figures after all. Truly they were meant to outlive all the Gods of all Times. So sometimes they used to forget how to present themselves to a King or a God. So much time had passed. Creatures, Titans and Gods. So many born. So many slept. So many died.
And they, the Fates, kept spinning. They span their threads till they forgot their names.
Oh, they had so many. As they traveled the shores of men, they even claimed names of humans.
Tatia, Katherine, Amara.
They mingled, they loved, they lost. They gave birth, they danced, they buried. They sang. They were still singing along with the woven destiny. That never stopped, that would never stop till the time it would end.
Three smiles bloomed, one of ageless age, one of youth unborn, one of deathless demise.
They heard Mikael's steps as clear as they would hear the lightning bolts in the sky. With each step, the thread that was moving in their fingers was twisting and turning, coiling and uncoiling. The thread sucked in the light and kept the God of the Sun blind.
For once, for the first time and the last. It was decreed. This would be the price to pay for the gift the Fates had granted the Apollonian God. When in the dawn of time Klaus had accepted it, he hadn't expected the ultimate price to be that steep, but he should have known better. God or mortal there would always be a heavy price to pay for glimpsing into destiny.
It was time for the Gods to pay.
The Three Fates kept spinning their thread as the King of the Gods finally entered their mist.
Step by step, Mikael approached the Moirai without feeling any discomfort from the fog that surrounded them or from the deafening noise that was erupting from the twisted fibers that ran between their fingers. Sounds of laughter and mourning. Happiness intertwined with wails of misery as the destiny of the mortals were engraved on the strands of fate.
The Fates didn't blink. Were unmoved by the noise and the mist.
Mikael walked around the three Fates with a wry expression as the smokes that created the haze in the Olympian temple right now spoke only of one name.
Niklaus.
Mikael gritted his teeth and eyed the Fates with unspoken solemnity. He saw their beauty but did not see their trap. The face they chose was not random. Tonight, their names were human. Tatia, Katherine, Amara. And the face they shared? The beauty they inhabited?
It was not born yet and when it would….thousands of ships would launch in her name. Elena. Beautiful Helen of Sparta. Beautiful Helen of Troy.
But the King of Gods was watching but was not seeing. His focus was drifting elsewhere. The hate of the Son that surpassed him, blinded him. He was distracted. He didn't like this Temple. And he didn't like how he ended up here. Either it was the gathering of the Fates in the lands of mortals or the name of the Son he despised that soaked the walls of this particular Temple the Olympian King stood in the presence of the sisters with an expression grave that foretold war and…worry.
That much Mikael knew. There was always a reason to worry when he stood in front of destiny.
Prophecies were woven around each mortal, but the Gods were not exempt from such Fates. Mikael knew it as they knew all too well for, they had sung the songs of prophecies in his name too.
Mikael watched them cautiously and the Fates gave him a serene smile. They were not offended. Not tonight. They knew how all Gods, including Zeus himself as the mortals called him in their prayers, feared them.
Niklaus though had sworn a long time ago never to be defeated by them. He had sworn to never be forgotten by them. Little did he know… but for what he truly knew now he kept his head high refusing to bow; but the thunders that befell Troy made the newborn babes cry for all the tears Gods like him refused to shed in their presence. And yet, even so, he still feared to cast his fury and strength to Segesta.
Segesta remained silent tonight. Silent enough for all the secrets to be kept confined and far away from the knowing eyes and ears of the ravens.
The Fates were not moved by Mikael's scrutiny nor by his appreciation for the sight of beauty they offered him.
The King of Gods did not favor the closeness to them even now. He kept eyeing them with caution, buying his time to ask the right question. And still, he was entranced by their beauty and if a God would be attracted to their allure, it was no wonder really why the greatest war of all wars in human history would be waged in the name of such an otherworldly vision. It was a blessing and a curse.
A blessing by the Gods was always a curse for the mortals after all.
The Fates raised their eyes and watched the man in front of them and tonight even Mikael was just that….a man. No better than a mortal.
They looked at him and he stared back. All three of them looked the same. Identical.
But if you looked closer, if you had the sight ambrosia gifted, you would see under the glamour of divinity their true forms. The beauty, the age, the grotesque.
And yet on the surface, their façade astonished Mikael and honored him.
The Fates lowered their gazes and their fingers continued moving.
Clad in white the three singers of fate kept working undisturbed. They kept spinning their thread waiting for the King to come closer. Closer still to hear their song.
The diamond distaff of Tatia's spindle shone. She spun the thread of life and smirked as the God of Thunder came closer but was unable to still see what truly had been woven into motion.
The measuring rod in Katherine's hands made of Adamant pulsated.
Amara's shears were caressing the threads waiting for when the time would come. She lifted her gaze to the King of the Gods and gave him the knowing look he always hated. When the time would come, she would cut his thread too and there was nothing he could do to stop it, nothing but delaying the inevitable and call the time in between eternity as all of them would. All of them, for she would cut the threads of her sisters too, along with hers.
When the time would come.
Mikael approached allowing the shadow of his immortality to spread and cast its heavy imprint on the walls of the Temple.
He did not bow or show any discomfort. Not when Amara taunted him with her gaze of inevitability and the shears she always held in her hand were used indiscriminately.
The Fates did not greet him yet, but he did not offer them anything in return either. He only examined them carefully.
All three of them looked the same outside but in the eyes of his divinity, their true colors and age shined. Truly godless the Fates feared no God ever created in past, present or future since even the fates of the Gods lay in their eternal spin.
Mikael knew that they did not fear him, but they still respected the order that created them all.
He watched stoically as all three ghostly figures of beauty, age and death did not spare him even a glance while they continued working on their weaving tirelessly in perfect synchronization.
Their power had drawn him in Segesta and its hold was still gripping him tightly. Even the Seirenes sang in unison with the Fates tonight.
And yet the song was nothing but noise and chaos until it was sung by the lips of the Fates. All three of them muttered their song of all the things that were and all the things that are. Of all the things that are meant to be.
"All the things meant to be," Mikael simply said, and the Fates smiled. Their lips moved as they belonged to one body.
"Are all the things that have been, all the things that are and will be," the terrible goddesses crooned together and gave him a nod.
Mikael inclined his head in return knowing that tonight they were not meant to counsel him as they did when they sat nearest to his Throne. Tonight, it was they who sat on glittering thrones. Tonight, he was in their presence for them to hearken his will and desires and he would not be able to overrule their decree.
Maybe, however, he wouldn't have to. If he knew the outcome of Fate, for once before Klaus did, maybe he would have more control over it.
For once he would have the advantage so he humbled himself in the presence of the weaving goddesses.
He inclined his head respectfully and demanded nothing as he stood before them and then a shared smile sparked back in their joined echo. The threads in the feet of the loom vibrated as if the voices of the fates were giving sentient life to them.
"The King of the Gods," Tatia's singing voice started as her fingers worked tirelessly as she spun the thread.
"Comes seeking answers," a voice similar to Tatia's but with more depth in its cadence continued the song of her sister. Mikael stood and watched as the allotter weaved and measured the threads with a baritone laugh.
He did not have to make his thoughts known. The Fates knew why he was here. They knew before he knew, and they had called him here tonight.
Katherine's eerie laughter was soon joined by the third voice.
"For the oracular son that surpassed him," came Amara's serious note as her fingers worked on the shears, cutting and cutting. Each cut sounding crude and harsh along with the truth of her words. Thunder almost sparked in Mikael's fingertips, but he let the power wash away as he took in the bitter knowledge the Fates offered.
"He craves for the Sun to bow to the Thunder," the three Moirai chanted together in perfect harmony.
An unsettling sound that had the lips of the King of the Gods curl into a grimace of annoyance. Their song was always the message of truth. One that not even he could ignore or dismiss and more so deny its legitimacy.
Each sister took a turn. Their sentences fragmented into three pieces as the fates finished each other sentences.
"The Sun will bow," the spinner prophesied but before Mikael could take pleasure to that Fate, Katherine's voice revealed to him another truth.
"Only to the Mortal," Nyx's second daughter sang intriguing the King of the Gods that now approached the Fates, leaving all doubts behind him while he opened his eyes and ears to the truth.
"Unforeseen prophesy," Amara's inflexible voice resonated before all the three sisters spoke together as one.
"Once the City falls eternity will come."
"He, the Raven's master, the most revered of the Gods," Tatia continued and Mikael kept his sneer between gritted teeth as the prophecies continued their spin.
The sisters allowed him to come even closer. So close that the threads welcomed him, like the strings of a musical organ of fire that was alive as it produced its eternal melody. In between the threads so was his but Mikael was wise enough to not get ensnared into the curiosity that prompted him to defy his destiny and claim his own Fate. He couldn't do that. No one could. So instead his eyes followed Amara's accusing ebony finger. Her precision gone, her touch unsteadied for once and the venom in her eyes surprised the King of Gods and he noticed how Amara's shears wouldn't dare approach a specific thread of destiny.
Mikael's gaze then focused on the golden thread that shone among every other. That ivory glow that in its depths glimmered in shades of black and blood. That beautiful and terrible thread that had swallowed fire and light and darkness and eternity in its fiber.
Mikael blinked and for once all of his Godly power stopped shimmering in his bones and went silent.
He felt a mortal in the presence of a new God unborn. Or Goddess. Unborn. Yet.
Amara's eyes shone as did Tatia's. The thread wasn't weaved yet and still it existed. It was predestined more than every other before or after it. Foretold. Interlaced in Troy's echoes and beyond reason or logic it had a mortal's beginning and instead of an end, the measure of it would tire Katherine's fingers as she would spin it, immeasurably denying Amara her right and Finn's Underworld his due.
Mikael tried to understand but sunlight and moonlight had bound the unholy thread that transcended his domain.
What were the Fates showing him tonight?
"His name shines like the Sun," Katherine whispered in her song and drew Mikael's attention away from that unique terrible thread when she ran a finger over Niklaus' cord almost in reverence.
"Never to be forgotten," the third sister's declaration buried Mikael's face into darkness as angry thunder threatened to illuminate the temple into the nightand fall endlessly from the skies above.
Only Mikael didn't dare. He didn't dare alert Klaus' ravens, not when he realized that the golden thread Amara cursed was a parallel to the Sun God's thread. It only existed because Klaus existed.
"To be more worshipped than the King of Gods."
The Fates declared with one voice and in response, Mikael cast his lightning to Troy tonight wishing to end the city before it would fall to ash on its own. The thunders boomed turning night into day, drawing Klaus' ravens far away from Segesta as Mikael lamented on the decree of the fates but he knew that his rage couldn't erase the words of the Fates. Once said the prophecy could not be undone for it was not a premonition but fate itself spoken in riddles and songs.
But when Amara stood from her throne and wrapped the crook of her finger around the wire that defied destiny Mikael dared to stand beside her. His fingers hovered over the tapestry and all thoughts vanished from his head as flashes of twilight appeared in his mind while that golden string pulsated, a beating heart, soon to be born. A heart meant to still and pump death instead of life.
That thread. A fate no God or mortal had seen before. Amara couldn't cut it Mikael realized. And yet she could. She was destined to cut the thread and then that one cord, so full of light and darkness, was destined to survive her.
Amara nodded at him and a visible shudder passed through his skin. That strand should not exist right now. A thread of one yet unborn and still it was woven close to Niklaus' strand as if it belonged outside of the concept of natural order and time.
Amara brought the ribbon, for now, nothing but an invisible echo closer to his eyes. She allowed him to see, to feel, but never to touch for that thread did not belong to this realm of existence. Not yet. Maybe not ever. It was meant to create a new reality.
It was meant to bear…monsters.
He was in the presence of the thread of the Mother of all Monsters.
Gold gossamer twisted into colors that began with luminance and ended in the color of blood bathed in darkness. Yet the light shone in the depth of the thread from beginning to end at the beating of a heartbeat.
"She is the Prophetess," Tatia hummed almost reverently.
Mikael tilted his head and realized that while the thread defied Amara it was still obeying Tatia's purpose.
Weird. A mortal thread? With no end? It could not be.
The thread was transcending time in a way he had not seen before. Not even in deities. Not even in his kind…no, this couldn't be…He had seen the braids and the ribbons of Gods, Titans, and Immortals before. He had seen the lines of the half Gods and born miracles, but this fine strand of twisted fibers was different. He had not seen anything like it before.
"Marked with blood," Katherine foretold with almost a perverse satisfaction as she removed the ghost of the thread from Amara's fingers. For once her sister would not destroy all that she would weave.
Mikael narrowed his eyes and Katherine's words created visions upon his eyes. An ocean of blood. The blood of thousands upon thousands upon more than he could count. The blood of Troy. The blood of the world.
He followed the thread with his gaze. He noticed how it span through time. Curling and twisting and stretching.
"He will give her the sight," Amara revealed, her words intoned in severity and Mikael gasped as he understood what this truly meant.
He. Niklaus.
This monstrosity was one of Klaus' abominations. He would be responsible for this. This that would defy them. This that could bring the twilight upon them.
Dead. Undead. A mortal beginning but...What had Niklaus done?
What would he do?
"He will take away its truth," all three fates lamented now.
This time when Mikael focused on the molecules of the thread, vivid flashes from the fall of Troy invaded his mind.
And now as the Fates spoke of Truth so it was revealed to him.
The thread belonged to a human princess condemned to never wear the crown of a mortal Queen.
No. She was bound to a Crown of Blood instead.
Was this why Niklaus was so interested in Troy? Not for the city but for the mortal that was yet to be born?
Mikael's lips curled into a wicked smile.
Oh, this was brilliant. This could be the weakness he had always searched for. The one he could exploit.
He wanted to see more but he could only glimpse a peak from the fine strand of twisted fibers and only that due to the lenience of the Fates who would surely ask for something in return. In due time.
The gift of true prophecy did not belong to him. It belonged to Niklaus who casually flaunted it and used it against him. Ridiculing him and disobeying him at every chance he got. A reminder of how he did not bow to his reign.
A gift Mikael craved and envied. A gift that the Sun God so carelessly threw away to mortals of his choosing. To his precious Oracles that he used as his personal instruments of power so to sway the mortal world to his feet and influence.
A gift that he would share with the Princess. The mortal girl with the unending thread.
"She is the eye in the heart of the Sun," Tatia's voice was sweet as a lullaby as she started setting in motion the Prophetess' fate. Bringing her to life. Materializing the thread inch by inch slowly.
"The God and the Oracle," Katherine smiled and wove, this time her delicate fingers spun Klaus' thread. She caressed the thread and allowed it to merge with the one yet to exist. The one that carried both life and death. The one undead.
"Intertwined their fates spinning into the pits of time," Amara's voice now grotesque followed her as she sat back in her seat and started cutting again.
"Endless death they walk upon," the sisters now, a threesome of destiny, a singular entity, chanted.
Mikael could not stop it or interfere. The fate of the Prophetess was already written. But maybe he didn't have to. Maybe he could only bend the rules instead of aiming to break them and just maybe this would finally break his eternal foe for there would be only one reason for Niklaus' thread to intertwine in such ways with the mortal girl's.
She would come to be important to him. More than just his usual toys and playthings. Far more important than his precious oracles even.
And Niklaus had foreseen it. His gift for once had turned out to be his curse and would betray him.
This was why he chose Troy. This was why he resided in the city for decades. It wasn't the city that was his obsession. Klaus wanted the mortal. The one he would twist into this new creature of his. The Sun God had kept this a secret and he waited.
He was still waiting.
For the girl to be born.
Mikael let the prophecies of the Fates resonate in his mind as he latched on to each word, each promise, each Fate they revealed and then he knew.
He knew what he had to do. Klaus' arrogance had blinded him but if the unborn Oracle's thread was so intertwined with Niklaus' then it could become a noose around the God's neck. It could bring him to his knees as it would Troy.
That thread was echoing destruction and death. It prophesied Troy's demise and all it would take was one slight push in the right direction.
Even Gods could fall.
Mikael stared at Amara who now showed her wisdom and haggard appearance to him. She couldn't avert Fate either, but she would not allow this crime against her gift and nature to go unpunished either. She was denied claiming this thread and so she gave him the answer he sought. Her monotonous verses showed him the truth.
"He will give her the sight."
That was one of the prophecies she had sung to him.
"Grant me this fate," Mikael called upon the Fates in all the authority his position allowed him, a position that allowed him in the presence of the Three Sisters, "Show me the moment he bestows the sight upon her."
His command was spoken with respect, but it was still an order and he was the King of the Gods.
A lopsided smirk appeared at his face as the Fates bowed down to his Rule and gave him the opening he wanted.
He dove deep into the well of his power and illuminated the thread, bringing a certain part of it to life even though the girl was not yet born. She'd be marked upon birth, cursed and blessed. His blessing to her hidden from the eyes of all. From the eyes of the Sun and of the ravens. Only the Fates would know, and they would not speak for Amara's silence would bind them.
Mikael touched the thread filling it with a spark that twisted and turned into a knot at the destined moment.
The King of the Gods abandoned the thread which then faded back into its ghostly appearance, ready to be woven when the time would come. The time Niklaus so longed for.
The thunders left whispers in Troy and silence as their light and rage dimmed and the night was left once again to be submerged in moonlight and a light breeze.
Rain started dripping over the marble ceiling of the temple in Segesta as the King of the Gods returned to his throne in Olympus.
The Fates did not untwist the knot for this moment had also been fated. This moment was meant to be the true beginning that led to the unending end.
Even the Gods were predestined to fall into the hands of Fate.
Tatia, Katherine and Amara let their mortal names become dust in time and allowed the face of Elena to become nothing but a visage forgotten until its time and they resumed their true appearance.
White-robed and blessed with knowledge obsolete they directed Fate.
*The door…* Clotho spoke solemnly as she spun the thread of life from her distaff.
*…Of the sight…* Lachesis, carried on her sister's phrase, somberly, while she held on to her measuring rod.
*…Of the future and the past.* Atropos, the cutter of life, finished for her sisters with a voice grave, her abhorred shears glittering in shadow as the Dead One chose the manner of death for all. For all but the one that would defy her soon.
All three of the Fates, in unison, whispered into the night Mikael's decree that would change the fate of the Sun God and would mark his Prophetess forever.
*When a door opens one may pass through each side.*
.
.
Ilium
Known to the world as the City of Troy
1250 BC
.
.
Caroline was running amidst the waning rays of sunlight that cast shadows all around her. Every step the ten-year-old girl was taking led her deeper and deeper into the woodlands far at the outskirts of Troy; she was almost out of breath. So much that her chest was burning. Something was chasing her. She could feel it in her bones. Deep in her gut. It was hunting her. She was frantically looking behind her back as she kept running and stepping over the fields of wildflowers, breaking their stems and spreading their scent in the mist that seemed to be hovering and rising everywhere.
She ran deeper into the forest, watching a raven fly in circles above the stand of endless trees. Clouds were starting to gather up in the air to drift across the horizon. She was lost but she kept running. Her blonde hair swept back in messy waves by the winds that blew around her scantily dressed body. She was dressed for summer, but the light and the heat were gone, and the winter winds were bringing raindrops and a sense of doom.
Her foot caught up on a sharp rock and she fell head down into the blanket of mist and flower blooms that seemed to be withering and dying. She sat up with a grunt and saw the glimmering gold from her broken crown lying next to her. Drops of blood had tainted the metal and she realized that she had scratched her hands. She blinked and then jumped up when she heard a hissing sound that turned her blood to ice.
She tried to get up but her whole body was trembling. Her breath hitched as the shadows rose higher and the darkness pulled her deeper. A snake was dancing in circles around her. Its slimy onyx scales gliding over the grass and the wildflower petals. Caroline saw its fangs dropping and its jaws opening.
Caroline screamed and called for the God of light to save her certain that if he would not come for her tonight she would dine in the Elysian fields.
Just as the Python was about to bite her a Wolf in a fur of white and gold leapt in front of her and growled at the black snake. Its massive body towered protectively in front of her and the creature howled and got the snake caught between its canines. Both creatures fought and struggled with poison and ichor.
Caroline's eyes grew wider as the Wolf rapidly shook his head to the right and left with the Python still trapped in its mouth. Soon the tail of the snake stopped moving and its body was ripped in half and swallowed by the Wolf.
The Wolf with the golden eyes turned around to face her with blood and flesh in its mouth.
Caroline looked up then to only see that the clouds were gone from the sky. Light was illuminating the Wolf in front of her and fire was engulfing her whole. Scorching heat was searing her flesh, but it was not burning her. It was warming her and healing her wounds. She looked at the magnificent Wolf in front of her mesmerized and stared straight into its eyes. Silence fell and the raindrops on the blooming flowers reflected the sun in their depths. Some of them were bright and shone with light on the Wolf's fur.
The animal stepped closer, but Caroline was not afraid. How could she be?
She let her hand caress the Wolf's fur and laughed when it purred and its wet tongue licked her hand.
Caroline looked down and realized that her royal garments were gone. She was wearing blue temple robes with gold threads. The broken crown had turned into a wreath made of Laurel leaves and adorned her locks.
The Wolf came closer and rested its head on her lap. She was safe. Her prayers had been answered and the Sun rose higher in the sky.
The flames in the hearth had died hours ago, long before dawn. The slight breeze could not win over the summer heat as the scent of lavender oil and laurel leaves filled the whole room, ricocheting against the stones and seeping through everything.
Sunlight burst through the arch of the window bringing light and warmth. The birds kept chirping making sure to cast away the allure of Morpheus' spell from Caroline's sleeping form. The Princess stirred and after some long moments of dueling between the world of the living and her dreams, she stretched on the soft sheets and pillows; her eyelids fluttered before she carefully opened her eyes. Her bed was always set in the place of the room that always seemed to attract the most light.
Momentarily the harsh rays of light blinded her and made her head throb and she sighed. Sweat had formed on her body and she pushed the thin sheet away from her bare legs, welcoming the cool air that seemed to tone down the hot sensation. Ever since she had any memory to cherish, she seemed to always have the same dream. The Wolf and the Sun. For the few last years, she had only dreamed of the Wolf and the Snake.
In the summers of her early youth, she used to embrace the dream with joy and laughter but as the years passed it became more and more tiring. It was exhausting her. It was becoming more intense. Like a calling. It was sending heat inside her veins and was tormenting her body making her writhe for hours in the quiet of the night.
Most of the time, she would wake up and feel as if she had not slept at all. The only thing that seemed to rejuvenate her was the feeling of the Sun against her skin and so just like today she lay back and let the rays of the sunlight bathe her body. Throughout her sixteen summers, she had never fallen ill but the dreams always left her breathless and in need of something she could not explain. Something that made her ache. A longing that had no name to describe it but was so powerful that everything else dimmed in comparison.
Almost everything she remembered, fondly feeling her heart's strings playing a different tune now that she was awake.
Caroline sat up on her knees and pushed the light, almost sheer, garment of her sleeping gown down, allowing it to flow around her legs. Her long hair fell around her shoulders and breasts in endless tangled and wild xanthous waves.
She pushed her hand under her pillow until she found the small handcrafted wooden bottle she kept there. Caroline then uncorked the carved lid and inhaled the sweet fragrance that bloomed under her nostrils. She took a deep breath closing her eyes and sighed contently before putting the bottle on her nightstand.
Caroline smiled and ran barefoot to her window, ready to welcome one more day. She threw her head back, her waist-long blonde hair falling back in messy natural curls, as she enjoyed the sensation of the Sun's light against her skin. It was leaving its golden color on her flesh and it carried all the wonders and smells of Troy in its ever-carmine ray.
The doors of her room opened, and her governess entered along with the chambermaids and the girls that served her. A swirl of blue and gold. Their temple robes always carrying the scent of Laurel. They were bringing with them trays full of milk, fruit and cheese, and buckets and pitchers full of hot water for her morning bath.
"Good morning child," High Priestess Sheila greeted and Caroline turned around with a smile to welcome the commotion.
Ever since Caroline was born in the highest peak of the summer solstice her services had always been performed only by priestesses from the temple of Niklaus, the God of the Sun. Sheila, the High Sun Priestess had been more of a motherly figure for her than her mother Queen Elizabeth had been.
Always following her around like a shadow. Teaching her the ways of the Gods and cherishing her with care and whispers of the tales of the Sun God. Making Caroline love Him as well and offer her respects to His temple ever since the age of three.
She remembered growing up and spending endless hours inside Niklaus' temple with Sheila and the rest of His priestesses reciting to her all the legends that included His name. His legends from Greece and Troy and from the places across her lands; over the seas that touched the one side of world spreading to the horizon all the way to the other; to lands and islands and mountains known and unknown.
Caroline grew up dreaming of all the wonders and the miracles the Sun God created for the world and when she was younger, she wanted nothing more than to serve him like Sheila did. Something that the High Priestess has been asking her to do ever since she turned thirteen. In a few weeks, her sixteenth birthday would be upon her and the Sun Priestess was trying harder and harder to convince her to do what Caroline wanted to do as a child. To shed her earthly clothes and replace them with the virgin robes of the Temple of the Sun God. To serve the God of the Sun and Light for life. For her whole life.
But Caroline was not a child anymore. She was a young maiden, a Lady of Troy. She was the Princess and she had a duty to her city and family first. And to herself also.
She would never meet the Sun God anyway and now that she was not a child anymore, she could differentiate between tales and reality. She was as devout as she could get but she wanted more than a life whispering prayers to a faceless shadow. Even if that shadow was the bringer of light.
She didn't want to waste her youth and her future to the closed walls of a barren temple that could not give her love and would not let her live. Something that the High Priestess did not seem to understand or accept. Especially lately.
"Good morning," Caroline politely replied and noticed how her handmaidens bowed to her before silently going towards the en-suite room carrying buckets of hot steaming water. Water from the springs near Niklaus' temple heated on one of the castle's furnaces at the break of dawn.
Caroline noticed then how some of the girls were setting plates on the table, filling them with bread and cheese.
"I will eat with my family today," she informed the chambermaids with a gentle voice that carried a sweeter cadence than usual, and the girls bowed down and covered the plates and went to make her bed and clean her chamber pot instead.
Sheila was inspecting the Princess with curious eyes and Caroline gave her a sheepish smile.
She then turned to one of the maids.
"Please get for me my green gown and the emerald tiara," she requested with a brighter smile and then turned her attention back to her governess.
"The Prince of Thebes asked to visit the water gardens today and I want to look good…for him," she dreamily said before she bit her lip and looked at the old woman with a blush on her cheeks, "I mean as a member of the royal family, I need to make a good impression…well not as much as a good impression…more like be presentable…formally," she quickly mumbled bashfully and heard two of the girls giggling at the excitement and awkwardness in their princess' voice. It made her face burn with a brighter crimson shade. However, Sheila scolded the young priestesses with a black scowl of austerity reminding them of their place and soon their giggles turned to silence as they returned to their duties.
Before the High priestess of the Sun God could reprimand her for her unruly ways that did not suit a Princess, Caroline ran towards the baths that connected to her bedroom. The Elder Priestess shook her head and followed the Princess into the steaming room.
The marble tub with the stone carvings and the gold details was filled with hot water and rose petals. Sheila and another young priestess helped Caroline out of her night tunic and supported her by the hands as she gracefully slipped into the scalding water. The vapors from the almost boiling liquid were creating moisture in the stone walls and the floors and Caroline dipped her whole body inside the heat. For some reason, high temperatures never harmed her, and the hot water soothed her tense muscles.
A long time ago her brother Stefan had been burned by the same boiling water Caroline was using for her baths, but Caroline's skin never complained at the hot sensation. One of the Oracles from the Temple of Niklaus had jested that babies born in the midst of the hottest summers belonged to the Sun God and their blood would forever run hot.
Caroline got comfortable inside the sweltering ripples that licked her skin and watched as per usual the same bathing ritual repeat itself. The priestess poured milk inside the tub and then stirred the water after adding lavender oil and laurel leaves. The scent was almost overwhelming, and Caroline leaned back and closed her eyes as Sheila gently washed her hair with a bar of soap from the Aegean island of Lesbos made from the remainder of the animals sacrificed in the name of the God Niklaus.
Caroline allowed herself to be pampered and smiled as she felt energy rushing through her body. A rush that seemed like a frenzy of anticipation. She was excited about joining her family for breaking this day's fast.
Stefan had informed her that it was of paramount importance to create allies with Greece. Damon had already sailed for Sparta and the King of Troy had months before sent an envoy to Thebes. An invitation for Prince Tyler to visit Troy in order to strike a peace and a trade pact between their two cities. Thebes belonged and paid tribute to the Mycenaean Kingdom and therefore it would be a great alliance for Troy.
The Prince had arrived at Troy three fortnights ago and from the moment Caroline laid eyes on him she felt butterflies flapping their wings inside her body.
She had been showing him the city ever since and they had been taking long walks every day.
At nights, away from the commotion and the guards, there were meetings in private, away from the presence of all others when their confessions in the dark and under the stars were becoming more honest, ardent and filled with promises.
Caroline loved hearing of Tyler's culture and of his peoples' way of life. So similar and yet so different from her own. They both shared the same love for nature. Prince Tyler did not care very much for the arts and music as she did, but he liked talking to her and making her laugh and she had not felt this kind of elation in years.
Truth was that aside from Stefan's love she had always felt lonely. Her parents always had matters of the state to take care of and Damon preferred a wild life away from the palace.
She was not the heir apparent to the throne, so Stefan's upbringing was of the most importance when it came to the royal lineage of Troy. Caroline, from the first days of her life, was left in the care of the High Priestess as Sheila herself had asked the King when Caroline was born; as an honor to the God of the Sun since the Princess was delivered in the Summer Solstice.
Her governess, however, no matter her fondness, was always suffocating Caroline since she only wanted to teach her the ways of the Sun God.
From a very early age, Caroline was practically forbidden to show any loyalty to any other Olympian God. She was always respectful to all the Gods and she had been dutiful in learning their ways, but her patron God would always be the Oracle God. Known by many names. Niklaus, Delian. Lyceius or Lycian the Wolf God. Pythian, Phoebus. Apollo. The God of music and poetry. The God of the Sun and the God of art. The mighty God of oracles, archery, plague, medicine. The everlasting God of light and knowledge. The only One to whom she had ever prayed to. The God she felt the closest to.
But the years passed, and the love of the Godly Summer made her heart feel cold. Whenever she came close to people aside from her family, misfortune would always strike, and she would be left behind the gate walls all alone and forgotten. People always respected her, but they always kept their distance from her. She was a Princess constantly followed by the retinue of the Sun Temple and that meant that she was unreachable by anyone that did not belong to her family or the Temple of Niklaus. Those that dared to come closer were fearful of her or would even die soon after.
Caroline was the most cherished girl of Troy, but she never felt any true connection to anyone besides Stefan. She loved her people, but she was but an idea for most.
For all but Prince Tyler who treated her for who she truly was. He was only a few years older than her and her equal and it was refreshing to be in his presence. He was not afraid of her or her status. He did not care for the temple priestesses either. He was not cowering in front of her and he was treating her…normally. Something Caroline craved like she craved air.
Tyler had even taken her hunting and laughed when she forbade him to kill any defenseless animals despite this being the purpose of their outing.
Time passed and at first, she didn't notice but after a few days, she realized that the King and Queen were not opposed to her spending more time with the Grecian Prince. Even if it seemed unseemly for her to spend so much time with a man without any vows bonding them. She also realized that by royal command everyone except from the soldiers that followed her from a safe distance stayed away. The priestesses did not escort her as they always did in the past. Caroline assumed that this was her brother's doing and she found that she was grateful for it. Stefan never really liked the attention the Oracles and the Priestesses of the Sun Temple gave Caroline.
It wasn't until a few nights ago that her brother Stefan alluded that their emissaries had been hinting to the possibility of a betrothal between her and Prince Tyler. An offering from the King of Troy to the Kingdom of Thebes in order to cement their relations. Something that according to Stefan, Prince Tyler was not opposed to.
After that night, Caroline's heart seemed to beat faster and she even dared to dream how it would be to get betrothed with her Prince and follow him to Greece. Would she be happy? Would she be able to leave everyone she knew behind and start all over again in a strange land with strange customs?
Caroline, weirdly enough, had never dreamed of having a family of her own. Of having children and a wife's future. Somehow it always seemed like an impossible dream. Sheila had always taught her of a different life. A life of servitude in the name of the Sun God and even though Caroline never truly wanted to take the vows in His name, she somehow never dreamed of another life. It was strange but she never had. And yet now, she dreamed of love. Of a kiss. Of an embrace under the moonlight. Even of vows of matrimony under the Sun.
Ever since her heart swelled with these longings, the dreams of the Wolf had become more intense. It was becoming more and more difficult to wake up in the mornings but once she did, she always found Prince Tyler to be her first thought for the day and the last before she would fall asleep - much to Sheila's dismay.
When Caroline had confessed her thoughts to her governess she was met with aggression and negativity. She had never seen the High Priestess so distraught in the past. After that, the Priestess was always lecturing her of how important it was to keep her virtue and to not let the Prince touch her. Sheila was desperately trying to dissuade her from accepting the Prince's marriage proposal to the point that Caroline was sure that the Priestess would certainly plead with the royal family against this union.
Of course, Caroline assumed this was happening because if she were to marry Prince Tyler then she would sail away to Greece and leave her guardian behind. Something that made Caroline feel sad too but no matter the melancholy she felt ,she also got the suspicion that Sheila was not being completely straightforward with her. She wanted to protect her for sure but was that all? Caroline herself had proposed to Sheila that should she ever leave for Greece she would allow the Priestess to follow her to Thebes where she could continue serving her and the Sun God at a Grecian Sun Temple. Something that also did not sit well with the High Priestess who seemed to be anxious to convince Caroline to not make a mistake she would forever regret. The only thing was that Caroline did not understand what kind of mistake that would be.
Sheila's voice even right now as she washed her hair and body kept preaching and chiding on and on about the value of virtue and of the many catastrophic consequences that would arise if the Princess were to allow the Prince of Thebes to come anywhere near her.
Caroline had been so lost in thought she did not realize how Sheila's voice had not stopped berating her and how the milky waters had turned cold. Shaking those troubling thoughts away she realized that shivers ran over her body; so, she emerged from the bathtub, feeling the waters cascading down her naked skin, not allowing Sheila's grating sermon to continue.
One of the priestesses wrapped her in a soft woven textile with threads of cotton and silk. Soon her hair was dried with a linen cloth and Sheila helped her wear a comfortable airy tunic in colors that resembled the temple robes she wore.
Caroline returned to her bedroom where a handmaiden combed her hair endless times under the sun that streamed through the windows until the dampness of the blonde locks turned to shine.
Caroline beamed as she wore the beautiful green gown Stefan had gifted her. The color matched her eyes and she loved that it was not blue as most of her clothes were. The toga dress was made of delicate thin fabrics that fell on top of each other, creating a wide skirt falling like a smoky cloud around her ankles. A wide belt made from gold with intertwined thinly carved leaves was wrapped around her waist and a brooch of gold with rare gems was used in order to pin the back side with the front side of the dress at the top of her left shoulder leaving her right bare. Caroline then chose to wear a pair of beautiful soft sandals that matched the belt and the brooch.
The jewelry that adorned her wrists and ears were delicate and made to match the emerald tiara that was going to be placed on her head.
Once she was satisfied with how she looked in the reflection on the polished bronze of the mirror, Caroline carefully went and sat on the pillows on the top of the backless chair and tried to ignore the way Sheila was watching her with disappointment. There was something cold in her eyes. Something akin to anger, but also something resembling fear.
Caroline, instead of bothering with it anymore, turned her attention to the handmaiden that waited next to the chair with a smile. She requested the girl to style her hair in a Grecian style and smiled as the young priestess used a rod of bronze heated from the reignited flames in the hearth to curl some of her strands. She then twisted some of her hair into intricate braids and pinned them like a halo around her head and the tiara while leaving a lot of twirling curls to fall free around her shoulders.
"Please use the bottle on my nightstand," Caroline asked the priestess who was now searching the bottles of aromatic scents that were placed on one of the small vanities near the polished metal mirrors.
The brunette servant did as she was told and then perfumed Caroline's hair with the aromatic scent of saffron and daisies from Thebes. A gift from Prince Tyler sent by his mother the Queen of Thebes with the belief that all scents had been delivered to the world by the Gods and so it would be a blessing for her to carry the scent of Greece in her hair.
When Tyler had slipped the bottle into her hand and held her palm in his, he had told her that this bottle was blessed in the Temple of Rebekah. The Goddess of love and beauty.
Caroline finally looked again in the mirror and almost gasped at the regal image she presented. She realized in awe that she liked what she was seeing, and she preferred it from the simple way Sheila had her dressing all her life.
She twirled around and felt the need to clap her hands and jump up and down happily. Instead, she smiled and raised her chin proudly. Tyler was not just a Prince. He was the first son of his family just like Stefan was of theirs. He would one day become King and she could be his Queen.
"My Princess."
Caroline did not avert her eyes from her reflection in the mirror and let her hands touch the thousand gauzy fabrics of her skirt before she hummed at the High Priestess' calling.
"Have you recited your prayers towards God Niklaus today?" her governess asked her with a strict voice making Caroline's musings come to an abrupt end. She sighed and turned around to face her tutor shaking her head with a pout.
"Leave us!" the High Priestess ordered with a hard voice that made Caroline wince. The servants and the rest of the priestesses bowed down immediately and scurried out of the room closing the heavy wooden doors behind them.
"I don't have time for this," Caroline objected before Sheila could utter a word, but the relentless glare of the Priestess did not fade away.
"You should first give your prayers to the God," the priestess insisted, and Caroline put her hands on each side of her waist in a childish angry manner that contradicted her appearance.
"He is not here right now. I am sure he won't mind!" Caroline bit out in frustration watching Sheila's face blanch at the sarcasm of her words.
Her governess was always letting her get away with many things but never with any disrespect towards the Sun God.
"Be careful of your manners, Caroline! Show some respect!" the older woman reprimanded her, and Caroline felt the need to stomp her foot down.
"I am! I always am! But right now, I am late!" she complained in an exasperated tone knowing all too well that she was not. She had time. But she didn't want to engage in another argument with the Priestess. She wanted this day to start with laughter and she wanted to spend the day with Tyler in the water gardens. The last thing she wanted was one more of Sheila's lectures.
"The Prince is a mortal. He can wait," Sheila insisted with a stringent tone that made Caroline roll her eyes.
"Well I am a mortal too and I can't wait," she retorted making Sheila's eyes wide at her obstinate behavior.
"What? The Gods live forever. Us mortals don't have that luxury," Caroline mocked tiredly with a huff.
"I believe I have taught you better than this my Lady." Sheila admonished her with a castigating gaze full of disappointment.
Caroline bit the inside of her cheek and felt her anger simmering down. She approached the woman she considered to be more of a family than any other except Stefan.
"You have," she gently exhaled, taking the old woman's hands in her own, "forgive me," Caroline graciously apologized.
Sheila smiled at her and caressed her cheek gently. Caroline leaned into the wrinkled palm with a smile.
"I know it is not easy for you to understand but you are destined for great things my Lady. If you devote yourself to the service of the God-"
Caroline yanked her head away as if the gentle touch burned her.
"No," she resolutely interrupted her governess, putting distance between them.
Sheila tried to go near her with a pleading gaze full of desperation that made Caroline's heart clench in pain.
"Child-"
"I won't repeat myself. I said no," Caroline coldly rejected any attempt the High Priestess made of convincing her or even placating her.
"Caroline. For years you wanted nothing more than to serve our God. Do not forsake him now," Sheila begged her, and Caroline shook her head giving an incredulous stare to the older woman.
"No! This is what you have always wanted! Ever since I can remember this is the only thing you wanted. And maybe when I was a child, I might have considered your desire to be my own but a child I am no longer!"
Caroline straightened her back and tilted her chin up. For the first time since she could remember herself, she was speaking to the woman who raised her with a regal voice. Sheila always carried an air of superiority even in her presence. An air that only a High Priestess could have but this could not continue any longer. The Priestess was still a servant of the Crown and she was the Princess. Soon she would also be Prince Tyler's betrothed. She could not have Sheila's prejudices poison what was probably one of the best things to have happened to her in a long time.
"What I want is what my parents want. What Prince Stefan wants. Not only for me. But for Troy also," Caroline declared with an assertive voice that rose between her and the High Priestess like a royal decree.
"What I want is a future with Prince Tyler," Caroline continued. Confidence laced the unyielding timbre of her voice and the Princess tried to decipher the panic that bloomed in the High Priestess eyes. It was as if she turned pale. A part of Caroline felt sorry for the older woman, but she could still not understand why she was being so dramatic about it.
What was she expecting? She was the Princess of Troy. A betrothal between two royal houses was expected from her.
Caroline let out a deep breath and started walking away from the old woman who seemed to be frozen in place now. The surprise she was feeling evident as was the increasing panic that had her body trembling with shivers.
Just as Caroline was ready to walk past her, Sheila's hand wrapped around the Princess' upper arm in a painful grip.
"You ungrateful girl!" Sheila hissed and Caroline let out a whimper of pain as she tried to pull her arm away.
"What are you doing?" Caroline asked fearfully. It was the first time she was seeing the Priestess act this way and it scared her.
"Hear me, child! It is the will of the Gods!" Sheila shouted; her anger and fear flaring. Caroline blinked, confused and unable to understand why the always composed and calm Priestess was acting this way.
The Princess wretched her hand away and stumbled back.
"What is wrong with you?" Caroline asked with a hurt voice that sounded like an accusation. It was the first time Sheila or anyone for that matter had treated her that way. And she could not understand why. The only thing she knew was the waves of terror blooming on her skin.
In Sheila's gaze, there was an insanity that did not seem just like fear. It was like a premonition of doom. It was making Caroline feel something she had never experienced before. A certainty that something bad was going to happen. She could not explain the feeling. But it was as natural to her as her senses were. As clear as her sight was.
She could feel it in her bones. And it made her want to scream.
"It is the will of the Gods," Sheila repeated with a hollow voice and Caroline felt a rage she had not felt before.
"No, it is not! The Gods don't walk among us!" Caroline denied, feeling as if she could not breathe. She felt as if she were lying to herself and the way Sheila's eyes blackened and the wind rose outside her window made Caroline feel as if her knees could not support her anymore. A cataclysm of foreign emotion bloomed and sent its dark tingles all over Caroline's body that stiffened. A raven came to her window and Caroline gulped down her weak feelings. She turned and saw how the High Priestess was watching her with an unfathomable expression and for the first time in her life, she realized why people were afraid of the Priests and Priestesses of the Sun God.
But Caroline could not allow superstition to dictate the way she would live. Her faith in her Gods would not be her undoing. She believed in the Gods' mercy. She believed in a Sun God that was her protector and a God that would condemn her dreams. What the High Priestess was speaking of was not the Sun God's will. It could not be. The God of Light would never be so cruel to her. This was Sheila's will and Caroline would not allow this to continue.
"This is your will ever since I could remember," Caroline accused the High Priestess and the woman pressed her lips at how the raven's wings flattered in a frenzy.
Caroline did not allow her fear to take over, however, and took a step forward staring down at her caregiver with cold eyes.
"I respect the Gods but the cloth of servitude in their name is not my calling," Caroline admitted, ignoring how Sheila gasped and kept glancing between her and the raven with dread.
Sheila tried to reach for her, but Caroline looked at her with eyes that held a blazing fury her governess had never seen before.
"Princess please, you don't understand-"
Caroline raised her hand effectively silencing the Priestess.
"Would it not be a sacrilege if I were to serve the God against my will and not dream of Him but of another life?" she inquired without giving to her governess the chance to answer. Instead, she walked towards the doors but before she reached them, she halted.
"I have to go. They are waiting for me," she said without turning to face the High Priestess, "however if you wish to remain in my service, I would expect from you to stop trying to convert me to the God's service. I am the Princess of Troy, High Priestess. I won't bow to a life in your temple. My future lies elsewhere."
The winds roared and with them, the Sun hid behind the clouds before Caroline held her head high and walked away from her room leaving Sheila, the raven and the promise of another life in the name of the God of the Sun behind her.
Some would consider this darkness below the sunny world of the mortals an Underworld of its own dedicated to Finn, the God of Dead. And yet it was not. This darkness had a soothing comforting heat that emanated to every shadow cast by unnaturally bright lights flickering from the torches.
Deep into the womb of the mountain where on its top the temple of Niklaus sat bathed in the sun like a well-polished jewel, the High Priestess knelt in front of the dais of her God. Isolated from everyone but those in the service of the God, the closed quarters of the Priestesses were now engulfed in silence.
The flames in the cauldrons flickered in the section that supported the foundations of the Sun God's Trojan Temple, at the highest peak of Troy's mountain, that adorned the city in the name of its patron. Sage was burning in the red-tinted coals and its scent rose in the smoke. Shadows danced amidst the light reflected on the ponds that were curved into the marble floors, rippling dark waters that led to a majestic throne under the sculpture of the God that reigned over the Sun.
Sheila's dark blue robes created a pool around her kneeled body as she meditated in front of the altar beneath the throne, chanting hymns and prayers after giving her offerings to her God.
Her soft breathing was the only sound that accompanied the whistling of the coals until the faint echo of fluttering wings like those of Niklaus' ravens ricocheted inside the secluded chamber. The Priestess was startled when light surrounded her, but she did not dare to raise her head towards the great luminance. Once the brightness succumbed to darkness a voice deep and stern reached her ears and she bowed deeper on the ground in reverence.
The High Priestess saw the golden sandals underneath the black chlamys with the gold-trimmed ending.
The Throne was now occupied by its rightful owner and it was as if light burnt around it, casting majestic games of illusions in the withering shadows inside the temple.
"She is coming of age. I expect her to give herself to me soon. To take the vow in my name."
The words were spoken in absolute authority that cast a heavy shadow of fear inside her. She had not been in the presence of the Sun God ever since the day of Princess Caroline's birth. Every message he had delivered to her the following years had been in omens and prophetic dreams and always with instructions for the young princess of Troy.
Sheila kept her gaze cast downwards and tried to contain her panic that had her trembling like a leaf. Her fear was not only born by the realization that she was standing in the presence of the God she served but also knowing she would have to utter words that would condemn her. Fateful words that could condemn the whole city if the God's promise to destroy Troy if his desires were not met still stood.
"My Lord," she breathed, "She…refused to do so."
Her trembling whisper seemed to ignite the fire in the cauldrons that rose high in smoke and embers. The High Priestess clenched her eyes shut when Klaus's wrath shook the mountain. The waters from the embedded floor pools sloshed over in waves, staining the marbles until they licked her robes.
Sheila scrambled back when steam rose from her robes. The water was sizzling hot and burned her skin.
Her eyelids got wet with tears as she withstood the punishment and kept her bowed position.
Niklaus' fingers tapped at the armrest of the throne. When he spoke again his voice was soft.
"Thousands upon thousands worship me and so many serve me," he noted. There was not a trace of the fury that still bounced at the walls of the room. "To how many mortals you believe I have revealed my face throughout the centuries Priestess?" he asked her gently, but Sheila remained silent.
"Not many," the God of Light assured her, "Only to those I deem worthy."
The tapping of his fingers seized.
"But what happens if they prove themselves unworthy?" he wondered sardonically, and Sheila stilled completely, not daring to speak a word. The smoke from the cauldrons rose higher and the atmosphere turned suffocating.
The mortal realm was rapidly turning to a fragile one of terrifying chaos all around the priestess promising the depths of Tartarus to come for her.
"You had sixteen years to prepare. To give me what I want," Klaus reminded her and the icy tone contradicted the fire of his nature.
"And yet what my heart desires is not mine. Because of your incompetence," he hissed, his gaze glinting with flares of gold within its depth.
Sheila's hands turned to fists, her knuckles protruding from her wrinkly skin.
"Forgive me, my Lord. I-"
"You had a sister," the God interrupted her, and paleness tinted her features immediately. Her throat bobbed as she rose her fluttering eyes to face the God, she had worshiped all her life.
Regal in his throne he casted her a castigating glare. His black garments were giving him an even more dangerous appearance while the gold belt he wore shone more than any jewel that could be found in human lands.
The Sun God gestured apathetically then. A motion far more intimidating than his wrath.
"A sister who has carried a daughter and then a niece who bore another daughter before she perished," Niklaus reiterated in a bored tone, "Named after the Goddess of Wisdom. Bonnie, I believe is the name of your beloved kin? You have taken her under your care as your grandchild…I have permitted you to do so."
Sheila nodded nervously and the lips of the deity before her stretched to a wolfish smirk.
"She would make a lovely sacrifice in my name I believe," he pondered with a smile before he sighed pensively, "Or maybe it is the whole city that should burn before its time."
The High Priestess braced herself as she gave voice to words that she knew to be dangerous.
But she knew that she could not hide from a God. Even if she wanted to, to do so for the first time since she remembered herself.
"The Princess is of Royal blood my Lord. She is the first highborn lady of Troy. I can't force her to do something against her will... If only I could," she pled hopelessly and a part of her ached for wanting to sacrifice Caroline to the temple life and to the God before her, but this was her duty. To save her kin and her world she had to sacrifice one for the future of many. If it was up to her, she would offer Caroline to the God Niklaus but it was not up to her.
She beseeched her Lord to understand and to show mercy but instead, his roar of fury silenced her as horror overtook her senses.
"She is as you nothing but a mortal!" Niklaus' voice boomed, shuttering the statues that surrounded his throne, "You failed to raise her as you should if she dares to defy me! A God!"
The High Priestess extended her hands in reverence and supplication.
"As you have commanded, she doesn't know of your will. She only knows of what you have allowed me to reveal to her," Sheila tried to appease the violent God before her attempting to appeal to his reason.
He pointed a blaming finger at her, and she felt as if she were shrinking inside her own skin. Tendrils of fear gripped her tightly, not allowing her to move.
"You, however, know what is at stake here," the God before her bit out and Sheila inclined her head in despair.
"I know," she desperately said, "but the girl does not. She wants-"
"She wants her Prince,' Niklaus finished for her. The disdain in his tone was evident.
The High Priestess blinked making the God in her presence roll his eyes irritably.
"My light is upon her. It always has been. You believe that I wouldn't know?" he mocked shaking his head in exasperation.
The Sun God rose from His Throne and stepped down from the elevated dais.
"She has prayed to my name to keep him safe and bless their union," he drawled sarcastically as he waltzed towards one of the cauldrons. He caressed the flames that illuminated his face creating a golden glow all around him.
"At least you were successful at installing her faith in me," he observed, his eyes focused on the flames, watching inside them the vision of the mortal Princess he had wanted since before she was even born in this world.
"And yet that success falls short. They had been kissing in secret in the gardens of my temple. The temple you were meant to guard along with Caroline," Niklaus growled as he stood just a few steps away from the High Priestess, ready to distinguish her life and turn her to ash.
"You have failed me, priestess," he seethed, disappointment and the promise of retribution lacing the cadence of his voice.
He looked down at the pathetic attempt of the mortal at his feet to collect herself and accept her fate.
He could read the thoughts that were crashing down on her. Her fear for her blood. For her life. For her nation. He could sense how she was petrified of his wrath. Of the fury that could wipe her lands and all the life, she had ever known from existence and the pages of history.
Little did she know that those pages were already written and in time history would scream and lament for all those that the High Priestess cherished and wanted to protect now.
Yet all that despair and destiny of sorrow left him cold. All mortal life was nothing but a flicker of light that shone brightly for a fragment of time before it was dimmed to oblivion. Cities were fated to rise and fall. Mortals to die. Gods to be forgotten.
None of that mattered to him. He did not care for any prayers and any offerings or humans that cried his name.
He only cared for one mortal.
When the lips of the old woman trembled and opened surely ready to plead with him once more and to offer her life at his feet so to placate him, he rose his hand in the air in a forbidding motion.
The woman obeyed and kept her mouth shut and Klaus shook his head. He was so bored facing all that submission and fear. He wanted more than that, but no mortal would ever rise to the occasion.
He laughed and extended his palm. Smoke and blood soaked his fingers as green leaves dipped in ashes from the poison white oak in Olympus appeared.
"But maybe there is still chance to atone," he offered one last chance to the Priestess before him.
He was not known for his mercy, but Sheila had been right.
He had not wanted to demand Caroline's life and force her compliance. He had wanted for the girl to grow up without any ache or fear and then give herself to him willingly or at least as willing as a young woman would forfeit her life to serve the shadow of a God.
He could have snatched her away any time he wanted. He could still do that. But he wanted to try a different approach. His premonitions of the future were whispering to him of the doom that was to come and he did not want to ensure her hate nor was he like Finn to kidnap the object of his desire, the world be damned.
Not in Caroline's case anyway. She was not immortal like Sage. Every moment in her life mattered and he wanted every second of that life. He wanted her light. He wanted her to come to him.
One way or another. In time she would learn to accept him and care for him. She would forgive and would be grateful for all the things he would offer her.
"Anything you ask of me, my Lord. Anything. It will be yours," the Priestess on her knees quickly mumbled and he gave her the leaves he was holding.
Blessed and cursed by him. Blessed so not to harm the Princess but cursed so to harm the nuisance his sweet heart had invited in her heart so carelessly.
The High Priestess stared at the green leaves in her hands.
"Make sure the Princess drinks their essence before she runs to meet her Prince in the gardens," Klaus said coolly and noticed how the hands that were holding the poison he offered trembled momentarily.
"And then sweet Caroline will pray again for me to save him," he drawled, feigning empathy as his lips curled to a sinister smile.
"Once she does… you know what you must do," he emphasized, and the older woman nodded. He did not bother paying any attention to the sorrow that claimed her features.
He walked away from the kneeling woman and without bothering to spare another glance at her he let his last warning discipline his acolyte, reminding her what was at stake should she fail him again.
"Do not fail me again, Priestess."
The woman's soft gasp of dread accompanied him back to Olympus, his body fading into mist and light as he left the mortal world behind.
He had waited for decades for Caroline to come to be. He could surely wait for a few more days.
Soon. Caroline would soon turn to him and he would not let her go.
Under the scorching sun, Caroline's soft sandals pressed soundlessly on the limestone path through the archways and the vine wrapped pillars that led to the water gardens.
The Prince of Thebes had offered her his elbow, joining her in her midday stroll. His steps were heavier but still carried an air of strength and grace. Caroline lifted her gaze up and smiled as she saw how much closer their destination was now.
Perched atop the white cliffs, gazing at the frothy sea, the Temple of the Sun God loomed over the gardens. The steep cliffs carved the bright skies. Water was falling from pressure with the rocks, creating effervescent surges that streamed down the mountain. And the mammoth Temple stood proud, closer to the sunbathed in the rays of light that gave the structure an otherworldly luminance.
Caroline guided the Prince down the slippery stone steps relishing at the feeling of coolness that hit her heated face. The gentle breeze carried the scent of oranges and grapes that the Princess inhaled in, letting the freshness rejuvenate her.
The light draft was carrying droplets of water from the waterfalls that fell over the towering marble statues carved at the bottom of the mountain. The guardians of the Temple as her governess would call them. An intimidating work of art with cascading water falling over the sculpted marbles and splashing into the rivers that carried the Temple's sacred waters to the ponds that gave life to the gardens.
When Caroline stepped on the blades of grass, she smiled at the coolness that tickled her feet under her chiton. Her smile grew bigger as she took in the olive trees and the long rectangle ponds with the floating lotus flowers on their surfaces.
This wasn't a novelty for her, but it was her safe haven. She always felt happy and serene here. Protected and cherished. She belonged here more than she belonged to the palace. She always sought comfort in the water gardens and always felt giddy and optimistic whenever she visited them.
The Princess gently detached her arm from the Prince's and walked to one of the ornate benches built from imperious marble under the oldest Laurel Tree of the garden. The view from this bench was panoramic. With the sea at a distance and the Temple looming above. With the majestic tree providing shade and protection from the scorching sun at day as it mysteriously filtered the moonlight at night.
Caroline for a moment cared nothing for propriety and threw her head back, basking at the sunrays that warmed her face. Despite the shadow, the tree offered, the sun always seemed to chase her. She basked in its embrace. In its heart, there was always light. It never burned her skin, but the glow always nurtured her body and soul.
She giggled like a small child, forgetting she was in the presence of the Prince of Thebes and was startled by Tyler's light chuckle.
She opened her eyes and felt her cheeks blazing hot. The Prince's body now blocked the sun and the sight of the Temple from her vision, but she didn't mind. The darkness that fell on her as the Prince towered over her felt almost comforting.
New. Exciting.
"You do love these gardens," her companion noticed amused. And surely this wasn't a new discovery for him. It was not the first time she had brought him here after all. Ever since they met at the Solstice festivities, they found themselves drawn to each other. A few glances, a few compliments, some secret touches away from prying eyes and soon enough they were sneaking around when no one would notice them; and if there was one place in Troy where Caroline had secret hideouts to share with the Prince of Thebes, it was the gardens of her governess' Temple.
And each time she felt the same excitement whether they were to exchange a fleeting embrace or a stolen kiss or they came here to simply take in the scenery and talk. The Apollonian Gardens felt like home to her and she always wanted to share that home with her Prince. She knew that it wouldn't last. Soon enough Prince Tyler would return to Greece. Her virtue was never at stake with him. She trusted him so.
She couldn't say the same for her heart, however.
"This is my most favorite place," Caroline confessed with a small smile and then she remembered herself and got up feeling the tingles of embarrassment spreading over her from head to toe.
"Will you take a seat with me?" she offered him kindly and wanted to smack her head with her palm. When had she turned into such a babbling mess? It was not the first time she played the hostess to visitors of the palace.
Tyler was more than that she had to admit. But today something was different. Different enough to unnerve her. Every other time her ladies in waiting were close by and the royal guard a safe distance away but somehow, this time, she was left alone with the Prince of Thebes. In the middle of the day.
She was sure that her brother's soldiers were not that far away and sure enough, she could swear there were flashes of gold and blue hidden in the distance behind trees and statues. Caroline knew those colors all too well. She grew up with those colors as they protected her and always kept a close watch on her. In times of peace, the Royal Guard of the King wore them with pride. Her father's personal guard was never far behind from where she was but today, they were giving her more privacy than ever before and it was an oddity to be left alone to her devices. More so to be left alone in the presence of a man. This kind of leniency was a new feeling that piqued her interest.
The last days in general spiked her curiosity as they had been so weird. Filled with tension and unexplained occurrences. This had to be one more or maybe it was just her mind playing games with her.
Ever since the earthquake that shook Troy a few days ago, she had a sense of foreboding wrapped around her. The Priests spoke of bad omens and sacrifices were made to appease the Gods. The High Priestess' words from the other day still echoed in Caroline's ears. Sheila's fear and her pestering persistence for her to take the vows in the Sun God's name and stay away from the Prince of Thebes had been turning into a constant argument between them until Stefan intervened and reprimanded the Priestess threatening to appoint her to one of the Temples outside Troy and away from the Royal House.
It broke Caroline's heart to see Sheila bow her head to her brother and casta gaze of betrayal to her but nonetheless her governess remained silent and Caroline felt grateful to Stefan. Since then, Sheila kept her distance but whenever she came near her she also kept watching her with scathing disappointment as if she had let her down, worse as if she was committing an unspeakable sin, and the raven that came to her window every morning –as impossible as it was- seemed to mirror that same expression in its inky eyes.
Caroline realized that she felt as if an invisible hand had been squeezing her heart in the last days. It was a sinking feeling she could not cast away, but she kept telling herself that it was just her imagination.
Maybe she was just nervous because of Stefan's words concerning her future. Expecting an alliance with Thebes and a marriage proposal had her nerves frayed. She wanted this or at least wanted to explore the possibility. And she wanted it to be perfect but that didn't seem to stop her worry and her anxiety.
Truth was that her heart wanted many things and before she knew any better, she believed that she would have had the freedom to pursue everything she had been dreaming off. To travel. To wander. To speak with scholars and to set herself free from the palace walls. The world could become her oyster.
Growing up she came to terms that what she wanted was not necessarily the first concern of her family. Honor and duty seemed to go by hand and as it was her honor to be born a Princess such was also her duty.
As she looked at Tyler, she realized she was taking certain things for granted. As much as she loved her country and as much as she valued her independence and her wants and needs, she could see that he had a duty of his own. As did her brothers. At the thought of Stefan, and even Damon, she felt a calmness wash over her. Maybe she was selfish in that way but deep down, despite what her family demanded from her, she wanted to be able to make her own decisions and she believed that Stefan in particular, despite his duty, would advocate for her the freedom of choice and that somehow eased her mind a little bit.
She could always deny any marriage proposal. She trusted Stefan and even though she could see how much he wanted to form alliances with Greece, she also saw how much he seemed to like the Grecian Prince. And as she was growing more attached to the Prince of Thebes day by day, her choice seemed to be more aligned to her duty so perhaps she was fortunate enough to want the same thing as everyone else did.
Everyone who even now was running to appease the Gods and pray for the future of their city and the salvation of their lives.
The object of her desire didn't seem to share the same uneasiness and apprehension, however. Not when it came to her thoughts or when it came to the commotion of the last few days. Tyler had laughed at the Priests' superstitions when it came to the earthquake, calling their sermons unfounded fears. He had joked with her brothers saying that if every shake of the earth was a Godly sign then Greece should have turned to rubble ages ago.
And even though there have been more and more obvious hints towards their shared future between his generals and her family, the Prince seemed to be relaxed and unconcerned, relishing in them instead of showing any discomfort.
Caroline observed him with keen eyes right now waiting to see if he would accept her proposal and sit beside her.
Prince Tyler tilted his head, the edges of his lips forming a hint of a smile as he held her hand while she sat back at the carved marble under the blessed tree. His eyes didn't leave her, and Caroline realized that she was not as eloquent as she usually was. Instead, her tongue was tied, and she felt fidgety. Something told her that today would be the day where there would be no more hints alluding to a potential marriage between them.
The way the Prince looked at her now made her realize that the tension she felt had roots in the heated gaze he gave her. A look of promise. One only a man would share with his betrothed and the building tension gave wings to her heart that soared.
The setting was definitely romantic enough and Tyler knew her love for this place. It would be the perfect moment in the perfect place.
Caroline tried not to wince at the thought. That perfection was an illusion. Niklaus' High Priestess's disapproval for this union had tainted that perfection. She knew that Sheila was in the Temple above them and she knew that she had expected Caroline to serve in the gardens for the rest of her life as one of the priestesses of the Sun God.
The Prince stepped to the side and the temple of the God of the Sun appeared again in the periphery of her vision overlooking the spot where she was sitting. Under the sun and the gaze of her almighty Lord, Caroline always found comfort and was always at ease but somehow at this moment she weirdly felt as if something was urging her to take cover and hide.
The Princess frowned at the odd feeling, took in a deep breath and tried not to feel the same sense of bewilderment as she gazed at the gardens again. She hadn't lied to Tyler. This was still her most favorite place. One would think that having grown up here she would have gotten used to their beauty and wouldn't think much of it but how could anyone get used to this?
Truth was that she had visited all the temples of the other Gods in the city. Every temple fearsome and impressive in its splendor and holiness but she never felt the same connection with those places of prayer as she did with this one.
She looked straight ahead at one of the high statues of the God protector of Troy. Of her God.
Caroline's mouth dried.
The statue was a magnificent work of art. In all its naked glory. Intimidating and sculpted to perfection and she often wondered if it actually looked anything like the God of the Sun. That kind of curiosity grew in her as she got older but her childish dreams of meeting the God she prayed to had faded in time when she understood her mortality and her distance from the Divine.
She, like everyone else, had, of course, heard stories of mortals that, like a moth to the flame, caught the eye of a God but Caroline knew those were tales of fiction shrouded in the haze of myths and legends passed along by word of mouth from down the ages. And even if those stories held hints of truth in them, she knew her ordinary existence would never compete with the beauty of the mortals that reached for the stars and the Gods only to have their wings melted and burned, like Icarus, by the sun she too worshipped in the name of her Sun God. Curiosity, when it came to the Olympian Gods, was a death sentence for plain creatures like her. That much she knew.
Still, glimmers of that curiosity awakened in her heart time from time. And when they did, she always found herself visiting the gardens and coming as close as could with the God she devoted her prayers and hidden thoughts to. As a child, she used to run away and hide here but now this place was a sanctuary and she had found herself wanting to share it with the Prince of Thebes. Because it was a place she loved and that alone meant something.
She took her eyes away from the statue that always made her blush and turned her gaze to the Prince that still stood tall in front of her, shielding her again from the rays of the sun with his body. His smile somehow made her cheeks heat up more and her curiosity for the unknown and the wonders of Olympus vanished as she found herself dreaming of more earthly desires.
"My governess is the High Priestess of Niklaus," Caroline told the Prince, in a somewhat melancholic voice, deciding to finally start a conversation and break the stiff silence, "she used to bring me here when I was younger, always teaching me the ways of the patron God of Troy," the princess reminisced, her mind locked in a daydream made of childhood memories, "I grew to love the stories and the Temple. Especially the gardens. Ever since I was a child, I came here on my own. Seeking solace. Peace," Caroline confessed and when she saw the inquiry in the Prince's eyes, she found herself feeling a weird sadness settling in her heart.
"Guidance. Answers," she added, trying to make him understand what she was trying to say and as he nodded she knew she hadn't been the only one in the quest of the same answers.
"Have you found what you were looking for?" Prince Tyler asked her kindly and despite the unladylike gesture she shrugged and shook her head.
"Some things still elude me…admittedly," she confided, laughing and the Prince laughed along. It was so easy. It seemed contagious to be in such high spirits when she was around him.
When he sobered from the laughter so did she and when he sat next to her she remained seated but didn't move away. The proximity made her feel a bit lightheaded and she wondered again how it was possible that the guards and her ladies in waiting had allowed them such privacy and closeness for once.
"Maybe because such answers are not to be found here?" Prince Tyler offered carefully, and Caroline's questioning gaze landed on his face.
"My mother is a firm believer in the ways of the Gods and seeks her answers from them," the Prince said absentmindedly.
"You do not," Caroline guessed and the hint of a smile that appeared in Tyler's mouth confirmed her hypothesis.
"I do," the Prince replied even though the usual fervor that coated his words was missing, "but I do not think that any of the Gods lurk in the temples," the young man mused and Caroline blinked as the Prince offered a different belief than the one she was taught to have.
The Prince's gaze landed on hers and he stared at her as if he was searching for something. As if he wondered if he could trust her enough so to open his heart to her. Whatever he found had him sighing before he got up and extended his hand towards her.
Caroline slipped her fingers into his awaiting palm and rose to her feet. The Prince offered her his elbow again and she looped her hand into the crook of his arm. They started walking. This time closer to the fountains and further away from the Temple and for some reason she felt as if the rays of the sun were boring holes in her back, burning her in a punishing way that caused a tightness to spread over her body. It was as if something was pulling her back.
Sweat started rolling down her body.
"What were the answers you were looking for?" Caroline's inquiry came out in a dulcet tone that she hoped conveyed genuine care and not curiosity.
The Theban Prince's eyes searched her face as if he was assessing her sincerity. His glance seemed to become softer once he understood that she truly wanted to know him. To truly know him in ways far more genuine than those found in a dalliance in the dark hours or an arranged political union.
"As a Prince of my city I am expected to learn how to rule it," the Prince confessed in a somewhat tired tone gaining her full attention as her mind drifted away from the physical discomfort the heat of the sun had fired up all over her body.
The Prince gently covered her palm with his and discreetly pressed her hand closer to his heart and she found herself leaning closer to him.
Truth was that Caroline knew that feeling of fatigue all too well. Those of Royal blood like her and her siblings all did. Like the Prince of Thebes and anyone else of the nobility, they were blessed with good fortune and riches only but a few could ever gain in their lives but they were also burdened with duty and responsibilities no one would ever want. Certain things were expected from her as there were things that were expected from the Prince next to her. There was no true freedom in their lives but even so, hers was different from his for she was a woman.
The weight that fell into her shoulders as the Princess of Troy was different from her father's and Stefan's. She was born to serve the Crown. Even Damon's responsibilities were different from Stefan's as the heir to the throne. Stefan just like Tyler was meant to rule. To lead.
Her duty included grace and obedience. Tyler's included power and superiority.
"Not an easy task as you may well know," the Prince confided, and Caroline knowingly hummed encouraging him to continue.
His words seemed to strike a very sensitive chord inside her heart. She did know. She knew all too well. From her father and her brothers. From every lesson, she had been taught. From when she was not allowed to play with Stefan's sword but had to learn weaving and spinning and from when she was forbidden to run and jump like Damon but had to learn how to run a household.
Truth was that what a woman knew was not what a man took for granted. And there were times that reality was more suffocating than the heat that kept rising and licking her skin.
Her appointed upon birth task was different and she wondered if, despite his words of solidarity, the Prince knew that.
He was taught how to rule. She was taught how to submit. He was getting prepared to lead. She was getting prepared to follow and should the Gods allow, give birth to new rulers.
Her compass always had one North. The Crown and her devotion to the Sun God. That was how she was taught. That was what she had learned before she could even say her name. But she remembered her mother explaining to her in one of her discussions a long time ago what it truly meant for women like them to be born with noble blood.
Her mother, just like her, had been a Princess too a long time ago. And then she became a Queen as she was expected to bring an alliance to her House and further the bloodline of the Royal Family of Troy.
That was what should be expected from her; one day –maybe today– to marry another Prince or King even and forsake her country for another. To give birth to children with Royal blood and obey the lessons she was taught from an early age.
Contradictory to this, for some reason, her governess never instilled in her that belief. It was the weirdest thing. It was as if that life was not meant for her and she should expect to thrive only in the walls of Niklaus' Temple.
Either way, all the paths that were laid in front of her were a notion…a duty… that at times she longed for and at others hated as she dreamt of freedom and a life beyond the palace's and the temple's unbreachable high walls.
Which happened to be the polar opposite of what the Prince of Thebes was trying to tell her now.
It was all very conflicting really and there were times she wished she had the ability to see into the future and make her own choices despite what her position, her family and the Priestesses demanded from her.
"From a young age I found myself surrounded by advisors and priests," Prince Tyler continued, his expression pensive while he seemed to dive into deep recollection, "but any inclination I have towards ruling was created when I started surrounding myself with my people. In the streets, the markets, even in the temples."
Caroline smiled finding his words to be both inspiring and exciting for some reason. In the end, maybe they shared more similarities than differences. They were both taught stifling rules that shaped their lives, but both wanted more from life. She, like the Prince, had doubts and dreams and all the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't give her the answers she searched for. The Gods were silent and there were things inside her that despite the knowledge she had received from her tutors and her governess screamed and raged.
There were times she felt there was a destiny waiting for her that had nothing to do with what was expected from her as the Princess of Troy and maybe the Prince of Thebes was a kindred spirit. And just maybe the answers he had or those he searched for could help her find those she was missing. Or at least point her to a North that would be true.
"In my experience, one can find what they are looking if they reach out to others," the Prince said with what seemed to be a wisdom beyond his years that contradicted his seemingly brass and fiery personality, "Connecting with people brings answers. Answers to be found in companionship. In friendship…In love."
The last words were uttered in a strikingly low tone and Caroline's heart skipped a beat. But what moved her the most was not the words but their true meaning. It was as if she was seeing Prince Tyler differently. He seemed a bit jaded despite his young years and more mature.
In front of her, she had a man with a purpose and dare she say with a vision too. It made her heart flutter.
"Something tells me," the Prince added but then paused for some moments before he continued, "temple walls are devoid of such grace. Gods do not provide the same comfort."
Caroline's mouth dried and her instinctual reaction was to put some distance between her and the Prince.
They were still in the Temple's gardens and to speak such words on sacred ground was a great offense to the Gods who would strike down mortals like them for far less.
Despite her latest doubts and her conflict with her governess Caroline still held Sheila's lessons close. Yes, she didn't want to become a priestess, but she still had a deeply rooted faith and belief in everything her governess instilled in her. She believed in the Gods and she had felt the Sun God's grace and warmth in his Temple more than once in ways that she couldn't explain…it was as if his presence was in every corner of her world, embracing her from head to toe, bathing in her sunlight and warmth.
And to hear such words in her God's temple…it was blasphemy.
Everyone lived and died under the grace of the Gods. Thinking otherwise was…sacrilege. A sin she didn't know she could commit to in any sense and so at that moment, she felt a detachment from Prince Tyler in ways she couldn't explain.
The liberty of thought and doubt was not what she considered heresy in the way most devout would but that kind of disbelief and reluctance to embrace the Gods so profoundly as she has had with the God of the Sun brought conflict inside her and not just because such skepticism was forbidden.
Prince Tyler's words spoken in such a way inside the gardens of one of the most revered Olympians could be perceived as hubris and would raise in anyone the fear of impending punishment from the Gods.
But it was more. This was the truth that was rooted deep inside everyone. In her too.
What would happen if that belief vanished? Or if it mattered less? What would be the meaning of life then? Caroline didn't know but what terrified her was the clash of the two separate wills she had deep in her soul. The part that embraced the Gods with another part of her that wanted to find out another way was forged by a deadly curiosity in a path that diverged from the word of the Gods.
Should she accept Prince Tyler would it mean that she would choose that way too? Would she be able to live like that?
Maybe the High Priestess was not wrong to condemn her for wanting to be with the Prince of Thebes if it meant she'd forsake the Gods in all the ways that truly mattered and in the ways, she was taught to worship.
"Have I given you offense my Lady?" the Prince asked her, a hint of concern lacing his tone.
Had he?
Tyler's words rang inside her mind over and over again.
Caroline wondered what true comfort she had indeed found in the Temple walls. Her beliefs and her connection to the Gods were an inner spiritual reality for her but she rarely ever found comfort in the Temples so if she truly disagreed so profoundly to what Tyler said, then wouldn't she have wanted to serve as a Priestess instead of yearning for a life of companionship? That was what the High Priestess of Niklaus wanted from her. If only Sheila could hear the Prince of Thebes right now.
"If my governess heard you right now would surely accuse you of blasphemy," Caroline finally replied avoiding a direct answer to the Prince's question.
Tyler examined her with a contemplative expression that quickly turned to one of satisfaction.
"You don't," he observed, and Caroline felt her chest tightening at the realization that he was at least half right.
She cast her eyes straight at the sun. It didn't blind her as it should. There was a connection, something almost magnetic, pulling her towards the harsh and yet soothing light.
"As I have said," she exhaled leaving that peculiar longing behind her, almost flinching at the drops of sweat that rolled down her spine slowly, "I am still searching for answers."
Her diplomatic answer given somewhat cautiously but in her most mellifluous voice seemed to please the Prince of Thebes.
He came closer to her and Caroline found herself drawn to another emotion just as magnetic as she had felt just moments ago. It was desire. Ardent yearning.
"Would you mind if we would search them out together?"
The Prince's tone was gentle, coaxing her into accepting his proposal that was the beginning of more than just a quest for answers. It was an invitation and a promise. For now, still veiled and indirect, treading carefully between fear of rejection, their station, and eagerness but the answer slipped from Caroline's lips as effortlessly as the sunlight broke through the darkness and illuminated the earth.
"No," she realized almost instantly leaving her indecision behind and embracing a kind of inner peace she had never felt before, "not at all," she professed with a soft voice accompanied by a soft touch when she dared to lace her fingers with his and take comfort in the sight of their intertwining hands.
Caroline stared at their entangled fingers and felt jubilant joy. She allowed the Prince's strength and good fortune to seep into their touch and straight into her. Tyler of Thebes was at his prime. He was young. He was healthy and strong. He had nothing to fear and neither did she. She let out the small breath she didn't know she was holding…for far too long…longer than she would have liked.
The last weeks gave her the courage to hope. She was no longer the cursed Princess of Troy. No calamity had befallen the Prince of Thebes. Maybe the way he opposed the Gods, at least to the degree he did, was an armor that protected him from the kind of malediction that befell everyone that ever came close to her. The Prince was strong and independent and safe in her company and right now his smile mirrored the happy expression that shone in his eyes and it was becoming contagious, building in her stomach the flutter of thousands of butterflies.
Caroline smiled back at him but then her lips widened as she noticed something that created a sense of mischief to rise inside her too.
Taunting a Prince, more so an honored guest, was not recommended and her mother would probably castigate her, but her demure mask fell and she pointed at the Prince's necklace with the hanging snake. The same snake that his armor carried engraved on the breastplate.
"You may not be a firm believer, but you carry the Gods with you," she challenged him with a hint of amusement enveloping her words, but it was more than that. She wanted to get to know him better. To see what he truly meant and how honest he truly was, "I know that the snake represents both the Sun God and the God of Wine," she elaborated when his features portrayed confusion.
The Prince's eyes lit up and Caroline found herself mesmerized by his laughter. It was a rich and yet carefree to the ears sound. She quite liked it.
"And what do you know of the God of Wine princess?" Prince Tyler played along; the same kind of delight apparent in his tone.
Caroline laughed heartily.
"For one my brother Damon will forever be in His debt given how much he loves wine," she joked even though a part of her was disgusted by the way her brother and many men acted when they had more than their fair share of cups, "…and women" she mumbled under her tongue without thinking before biting her tongue at being so blunt hoping that the Prince hadn't heard the last part.
Tyler chuckled, shaking his head in agreement.
"Most men do."
Caroline arched her eyebrow and this time letting her inquiring gaze travel all over the length of his body.
She had seen him at the feasts her family had thrown in his honor the last few weeks. He never seemed to share the same kind of addiction most men had with wine. Or maybe he was controlling himself so to maintain the right appearance.
"You do too?" she blurted out, her question invasive and tactless.
She knew she shouldn't ask but at times she had no filter between what her mind thought and what her tongue said. It would be her undoing her mother had once told her.
Thankfully, the Prince didn't seem to mind or take offense at her bluntness.
"It depends on the wine," he admitted, "…and the woman," he winked, obviously having heard her comment about Damon and his womanizing ways.
His gaze traveled slowly all over her body as if he wanted to give a more personal meaning to his words and from the looks of it that was his purpose.
Caroline cleared her throat somewhat awkwardly and despite the heat that she felt on her cheeks she found herself smiling and being drawn to the Prince more. This wasn't good. Who knew what other things her tongue would decide to say…or do… should she get overly excited and comfortable with the Prince?
And the fact that the guards were in a distance didn't mean that she was not being watched.
She had to direct the conversation back on track and away from all the things that made her blush or put her in a compromising position.
Caroline took a deep breath, pressed the outside of her palm against her neck at the point where the beat of her wild heart throbbed and tried to regain her composure. Maybe it would be an easier task should the sun not burn her this much today.
Finally finding the distraction she looked for, she pointed at the sigil in the Prince's armor plate.
The sign of the God Dionysus. Even though her governess never bothered to teach her in-depth every God's story, aside all that was related to the God Sun, she had still taught her the ways of the other Gods too up to a point. And just like Niklaus the God of wine also had more names. Bacchus, Iacchos, Eleutherios, Mason.
"There are so many odes and poems dedicated to your Patron God. The priests claim that Thebes is his most honored city," Caroline recalled from her old lessons. And it kind of felt like treachery to speak of other Gods and not the Sun God.
"One can assume it should be. Given that his mother was a Theban princess," Tyler said, and Caroline frowned. A shudder suddenly passed through her and she felt as if she was suffocating.
A princess caught in the web of the Gods. In Mikael's web. A fate that was meant to be a divine boon but was nothing but a bane.
"Semele," Caroline whispered. The princess priestess who got caught up in a God's seduction and paid the price.
Unexplained dread seized her heart. That name alone seemed to be whispering back to her ear like a premonition for the future. Silly as that idea was since she was not a prophetess and yet speaking Semele's name out loud felt like a curse. One that she was casting on herself if not one that was already cast on her. She didn't know why she felt that way. But she did.
"Do you believe it to be true?" she spoke her fears in a quiet tone, barely able to exhale the question in an uneven breath.
Tyler tilted his head in question.
"The stories to be true, I mean," Caroline explained, "That a mortal could become so intertwined in the fates of the Gods?"
She stared at the Prince almost desperately, seeking for answers once more. This time her question seemed to be urgent. So much that her mind almost blacked out.
It was as if the Fates themselves demanded the answer. But not from the Prince. They demanded the answer from her as if she could give it. As if she was at the precipice of change. And that change held all the answers.
Her head throbbed now. There was so much pressure in it as if it would crack open in half.
The heat of the day was finally taking a toll on her. Her knees seemed to be wobbly. She was never affected by the sun as other people were but today seemed to be an exception. What was happening to her?
She looked up at the Sun. Such bright. Such light. It broke her and mended her all at once.
She let out a silent prayer to the God of the Sun to show her his mercy. To help her. To make the voices in her head and the pain stop. To take the punishing heat away and embrace her to his grace once more.
The sun burned her more and more and then as if Niklaus himself had heard her prayers and the horrifying feeling subsided.
One moment. Then one more.
And she could breathe again, the world coming once more to focus. As did the Prince's voice.
Thankfully the Tyler hadn't seen her discomfort. He was talking to her and Caroline shook her head and pushed back the fear she had felt just seconds ago. The heat of the day had affected her, and she needed rest it would seem.
After her walk with the Prince of Thebes, she would ask her handmaidens to draw a cool bath but until then she would still pull herself back together and enjoy the Prince's company. She was not weak nor a wilting flower in the sun.
People called her the Sun Princess for a reason. The sun nurtured and nourished her. This wouldn't change today.
She focused her attention on the Prince and his musings about Semele.
Semele. That name alone and all that it meant was still evoking such a shuddersome and monstrous feeling in her.
"It would depend on the mortal," the Prince deduced, "I am certain, given one's beauty," he said, staring at her directly, "not even the Gods could resist."
"Of course, it would be beauty," Caroline scoffed.
The Prince's laughter in response to her reaction was heartwarming. Caroline's vexation started melting away when the Prince's hand reached for her face.
"On the outside," he began, his finger tracing one strand of her hair and gently pushing it behind her ear, "but most of all on the inside," Tyler corrected her, and she felt the same heat from before gathering in her cheeks.
"But our Patron God is more than the God of wine and ecstasy," the Prince promptly changed the subject, "He is also the God of Theatre. From what I have seen you are particularly drawn to the arts and culture."
Caroline gave him an appreciative smile, thankful that he seemed to acknowledge her discomfort, steering their discussion in another direction.
"Indeed! And I would love nothing more than to see more cultures one day," she beamed, the distress in her heart and mind forgotten as she was filled again with the strongest need to fulfill her dreams.
"I am sure one day you will," the Prince of Thebes promised. Because the way he said it, the way he looked at her was a promise.
"Maybe," she softly said, giving the Prince a meaningful look, feeling her cheeks inflaming from within.
The Prince's grin was contagious. She looked at the sky and sucked in a breath when the sun blinded her with its glare for the first time in her life. She blinked and felt the need to find comfort in the shade.
She shook her head uncomfortably.
"Talk to me about your city," she encouraged her company and the Prince started speaking about Thebes. His voice filled with pride and wonder, and Caroline started imagining and seeing through his eyes the largest city of Boeotia hoping that one day she could see it with her own eyes. Maybe even call it home.
The Prince continued talking as they continued walking. She loved the way his tone was low and soft and playful as his words spoke of a beautiful place. She wanted to see the Citadel in Cadmea with her own eyes. He told her about their military unit, making her blush when he spoke of the army of lovers that would never lay down their arms and would live and die for each other and their country. He told her of their training that included wrestling and dance and he spoke of battles and honor.
He spoke of their resources and architecture and their aristocracy and people.
But what truly moved her heart was when he spoke of their culture. Of their ways so similar and so different from their own. The Prince mesmerized her with stories of Cadmus, Hercules and Oedipus, and legends around their Patron God, Dionysus.
"I would love to see your city one day," Caroline sighed wistfully, "maybe you could invite me to come and visit when you next call my brothers for your trade pacts."
The Prince stared at her for a few long minutes before he took her hands in her own.
"Or maybe you could one day get to love my city as your own," he proposed, and Caroline's heart lost a beat at the realization of the magnitude of his proposal.
She took in a deep breath and Tyler squeezed her hands gently.
"But only if you desire it too," he assured her. His eyes, gleaming with sincerity eased her nervousness. She could tell that he meant it. It was up to her and his uncompromising persistence in his promise made her feel safe. Although she was not naïve enough to not understand where this was coming from and why her family allowed the Prince to court her.
Caroline didn't need to give a sidewise glance to the shadows that lurked in the distance. They were not as alone as it would seem, and she blushed realizing that that was probably the case for every other time she had met the Prince, even in secret.
And now she was given a choice.
Both she and the Prince of Thebes knew of their fathers' intentions for their union. The more forthcoming Tyler was now becoming was just proof of how he had already been given permission to act so. Given the time frame of his visit, Caroline could now see clearly why they had been allowed to spend more time together away from prying eyes.
"And should I not desire it so?" she asked the Prince and she felt the absence of his touch when he let her hand go and his arms fell to his sides.
"Would a future with me be such an undesirable prospect?"
"It depends," she carefully said, and Tyler frowned.
"On?"
Caroline took a step back and tried not to fidget with her hands as she remembered all her good manners. She saw the lingering intensity in the Prince's eyes that seemed to be disappointed at the prospect of her rejecting his proposal, but she wanted to know the truth. All of it. She hoped for his honesty.
"On the reasons as to why you'd desire it," she finally spoke her mind, "you said it yourself…you were taught how to rule so I'd assume marriage would be one more example of that for you. It is expected of you. As it is expected from me to further the royal bloodline and bring a prosperous alliance to my family with the same kind of marriage," she added, unable to hide the weariness that laced her words.
"Prosperity yes," the Prince nodded seriously, and Caroline hummed in melancholy, "Our countries and families would exponentially benefit from our wedded state. I'd assume that's one of the reasons, if not the only one, as to why they have allowed us such privacy the last weeks," he knowingly confirmed her suspicions and she lowered her gaze, "So to come closer, to get to know each other and embrace such a possibility."
Caroline's lips curled in a smile that exiled all naivety. Of course, they had. They all knew. Including her governess which explained why she had so radically changed her placating tune and become more aggressive lately with her. The marriage was probably already arranged but her parents wanted to give her the illusion of choice in the midst of it all.
It all made sense now and the Prince knew it for a fact all this time and she should have put two and two together no matter her desire to create a romantic story out of their supposedly clandestine liaisons. Stefan had alluded to it and at least given her the heads up thankfully.
This was political, of course, but at least she appreciated Prince Tyler's penchant for honesty. As she was starting to appreciate him too and just like her family, she was not opposed to such a marriage. She did crave it too. Especially with a Prince like Tyler and a life of new wonders where she could have more control and influence. But she wanted to know what she was getting into. To prepare her heart. To know what kind of marriage and life she would be expected to lead.
Still, as superficial as it maybe was she still wanted the fairytale. She still wanted everything their stolen kisses in the dark and their walks in the sun had promised her. If she were to leave Troy, and in a way the Sun God too, and start a new life in Thebes, she wanted to know what kind of life that would be.
"Is this only what you want? An alliance?" she asked him unable to keep her insecurities at bay.
Caroline almost gasped when the Prince grasped her chin in his fingers and tilted her head up demanding her attention.
"It would surely be convenient," he remarked and before the bitterness had the chance to take root in her heart he continued, "but I am finding myself enjoying more and more the prospect of such a future because of you, my Lady," he expressed his desire with words soft and gentle the same as the way his thumb caressed her jaw, making her weak in the knees, "Maybe… we could find the answers we seek together."
Caroline felt lighter than she had ever felt before in her life. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face.
"Yes," she whispered timidly before she shed her insecurity for more boldness, "I think...Maybe we could," she agreed, daring to touch the Prince's hand so to hold his caress on her skin a little bit longer.
Only it felt uncomfortable.
The heat from the sun seemed to become truly punishing now. Waves after waves of scorching fieriness. She felt overwhelmed by it. Lightheaded from the hot spell but she chose to ignore it.
When the Prince framed her face with both his hands she felt as if her body would give out, but it was the happiness in his eyes that gave her the strength to withstand the weird feeling of heat that invaded her senses.
"It would be my honor to call you my wife…Caroline."
No more Princess…just Caroline.
And despite the fervent incalescence that embraced her more than the hands of the Prince did, she felt as if she was finally standing at the edge of a dream. At the edge of happiness. Of a life she wanted.
"It would be mine to call you my husband," she accepted, making it official amid the sweltering heat wave.
Happiness should be the only feeling she should soak in but instead, the only thing that persisted was the rising temperature. It burned her back, her skin, her very mind. It invaded her senses making her feel as if she was trapped in the center of the sun.
Caroline tried to smile. To turn her full attention to her Prince and to this moment. The moment she should memorize and give all her heart and self too.
Light bounced all around her. Trapping her in a circle of an imaginary fire that was pulling her away from her Prince who was bringing her closer into his embrace. She felt as if she were pulled apart into different directions.
Into the sultry sun and amidst its reflection Caroline could swear that in the far distance she could see the shadows of black wings. Wings that cast a heavy shadow upon her. She heard the sound of the fluttering, of the raven flying high in the sky without melting from the Sun's incalescence. She tried to cast away such thoughts. That heat made her imagination run wild. It was the heat and the promise of the love that now rested in her hands to cherish and embrace.
When her betrothed's lips gently touched hers, this time not in secrecy but with the certainly of a lover who claimed what was freely given to him with the promise of a joined future, Caroline forgot about the scathing heat that tormented her body and for the first time ever since she was born, she allowed herself to give her heart to a mortal Prince.
A kiss sweet and filled with grace.
The Prince's hands caressed her back and pulled her closer.
She placed her hands on the metal of his armor that felt like a heating furnace, but it didn't matter. She poured all her hope into the kiss.
A hope that turned to poison.
The heat all around her turned into fire. Shivers bloomed on her back as her sweat run down her spine like a whip flying against flesh. She jolted when Tyler's fingers dug into her waist.
They both pulled away at the same time, their lips detangling from each other in a sickening sound.
Caroline felt faint. She tried to hold on from the Prince and find her support, but the heat climbed higher against her skin and she instinctively stumbled back. Further back until coolness breezed against her skin. She tried to breathe only to raise her eyes and notice how the Prince of Thebes was backing away in agony.
Caroline tried to find her bearings again, her hand reaching for the Prince only for her to wince as her fingers felt as if they were burned in an oven.
She looked down at them in shock before her attention returned to the Prince who let out gurgling noises.
"My Prince?" Caroline frowned, "Are you all right?"
Only he wasn't alright.
His eyes were filled with worry and an increasing…fear.
For the first time, Caroline realized how the heat had taunted Prince Tyler too. Under all the metal of his armor, his skin was sweaty and clammy but now his face had turned red. The vein in his forehead popped out and Caroline watched with horror how his hands clutched his neck.
He looked sickly, his skin sweaty and clammy and the Princess' eyes widened when his whole body convulsed.
She didn't know what to do. For some reason, she felt as if she couldn't move. Rooted on the spot encased in a feverous web that trapped her.
"Tyler?"
Caroline had never felt the kind of panic and dread she felt when the Prince didn't reply. She saw death in his eyes moments before they rolled back and he fell down with a thud that turned her stomach.
She no longer felt the heat. All she felt now was the cold. It was gripping her from the inside out, turning her heart into ice as her veins burned with molten lava, spreading everywhere her blood should be. Blood that was rushing inside and was pounding in her ears.
Caroline screamed and pushed and pulled at the invisible force that held her back, finally breaking free.
"Tyler!"
She fell on her knees and she shook the Prince who has started bleeding. Blood was pouring out from Prince Tyler's nose and mouth. Caroline looked around in despair.
The raven was flying in circles above them.
"Someone help," Caroline yelled over and over again, "Guards! It is the Prince. Help me please!"
Tears fell from her eyes, turning to steam and falling on the breastplate of the Theban armor. The rays of the sun reflected on the polished metal that groaned with every spasm the young Prince's body was having.
Caroline cradled Tyler in her hands screaming for someone to help her. Anyone. She howled when the Prince's skin blistered and she held him tighter, begging for anyone to save him. She begged the Gods and she called for help until her voice could no longer be heard until her lungs could no longer bring air into her body.
"By the Gods, not again! Please not again!" she cried, panting. The sun was now soothingly caressing her skin but the despair she felt made her lose her mind.
Steps reverberate on the cobbled stones. The world kept turning around her as she clutched the fallen Prince in her arms as people ran in the gardens.
Caroline's frantic calls for help had been heard but no matter how many soldiers ran towards her and no matter how many of the Temple's disciples and acolytes gathered all around her, her calls could not be answered by them.
The raven flew away. Further into the sky, closer to the sun and her screaming became a lament. A whisper. A prayer.
The earthquake had come and gone. The harbinger was delivered, and all hope turned to ash in the Princess's mouth as her kiss delivered only death.
Silent tears fell from her eyes as her guards tried to pull her back and soldiers of the Prince's personal guard tried to help him while all others around them prayed and spoke in hushed tones about the bad omen the Priests had warned them about. How the cursed Princess of Troy condemned one more life as a sacrifice to her everlasting affliction that was no longer perceived as coincidence and misfortune but as a scourge and a pestilence.
Maybe she wasn't the blessed sun child of Troy after all. Maybe she was cursed by the Gods.
"Someone help. Help me please!"
Caroline's screams soared up to Olympus, reaching his ears. The sun glittered, its heat lingered inside his divine heat and he relished the feeling. With every breath he took, the sunlight touched Caroline with more luminance and warmth, enveloping her in her moment of suffering, reminding her that she was not alone.
Moments ago, he was punishing her for her audacity to give herself to another man. A mortal nobody that would wither and die. He had to restrain himself from not burning her Prince and her beloved Troy to ashes and not blistering her skin causing her unforgiving pain. He didn't want to hurt her or blemish her perfection despite the rage he felt.
His vision extended far beyond the ends of the Gods' lands and traveled to the human lands and he struggled to put a leash on his temper. The mortal binds of the Prince were melting, and his Princess was crying for him. She wanted to shower the dying mortal with love and save him from his wrath. She…wanted him. Alive, safe and in her arms.
How dare she!
He had given her everything a mortal would ever dream of. He had honored her with health, beauty, wealth and he had in store for her a fate no mortal would dare crave. All for her. All because of her. He dreamed of her day and night and she dared to defy him and choose a pathetic mortal.
The ichor of his blood was singing curses in his bloodstream now. Seeking to punish, destroy and yet with every tear that fell from the Princess' eyes something sang in him, it lulled him back to serenity.
Her suffering was a curse of its own that could damn even a God like him. More so the suffering he had caused.
He closed his eyes and let his breath drift away and reach her. She would be safe. Always and forever safe.
Those foolish mortals that claimed to know the will of the Gods and scorned his beautiful Princess as a carrier of the Gods' curses failed to see beyond their prejudices and fears. She was blessed. She was his.
All he ever wanted was to comfort her. To soothe her ache and the pain even though it was he that caused it. Pain was the boon of life as much as it was its bane and when the time came, he would take all her pain away and replace it only with beauty.
That time wasn't here yet and the Princess' suffering would not end unless she realized where she truly belonged.
She didn't belong to a trivial short life in Troy or in Thebes or in the hands and the bed of any mortal. Her life would be magnificent and not ordinary.
Her cries moved him as much as her disobedience had enraged him. There was a part of him that still had a heart and it had Caroline's name on it. It was beating for her, eternally.
Soon. She would come to him soon enough. The calamity that had fallen the Prince of Thebes was the last ache that would bring her to him. Every goal required tactics and even though he hated that Caroline was trapped in the middle of such an action, he had to act before her free will changed her fate.
Bringing the Prince of Thebes to his knees might have been a delightful moment he cherished but it was also necessary. As it had been the time he had allowed them to come close to each other. He could have cursed the prince from the moment he laid his pitiful eyes upon his sweet heart as he had with everyone else that had dared to do so in the past but this prince was nothing but a pawn. One of use to him as of now.
Long before the High Priestess saw it, he had seen and felt Caroline's growing reluctance in devoting herself to him by oath and divine promise. He had seen into her prayers and dreams and he knew this time he had to act differently. Allowing Caroline and that miserable excuse of a mortal to bond was distasteful but unavoidable. He waited for the right time to snatch away her love and bring him to Finn's door. A step away from death. It would be the only way for his Princess to turn her back to her worldly desires and search for what she knew in her heart. It was time for her to search for him and to come to him of her own will even if he had to exchange with her the promise of saving her Prince in return.
Caroline was the ultimate prize he had dreamed of obtaining for centuries and he'd spare no life for her to come to him and return to her rightful destiny.
Klaus closed his eyes.
The timelines were diverting. Caroline wasn't an Oracle yet, but she possessed the promise through time. Her gifts would soon awaken. Already a latent form of them was unraveling. Caroline was standing at the precipice of the sight's doors and he held the key.
Their connection transcended what mortals perceived as time. The gift of prophecy was his to give and one day she would claim it and she would reach out to him through dreams and reality. Every vision and premonition she had would unite them. She belonged to him and he had already waited years for her arrival.
Finally, he wouldn't have to wait any longer.
His raven glided through the mists of evanescence that separated the Kingdom of the Gods from what the mortal eyes could see.
Wide beautiful wings soared closer and closer and he extended his forearm for his blessed bird to land and coo at him, speaking softly of Caroline's prayers.
Klaus smiled and caressed slowly the feathers of the black raven that now rested on his arm.
Caroline prayed to him. Promising to give him anything in return. Anything to save her Prince.
The God's lips curled to a satisfied smirk, but his soul was at last at ease.
His eyes dilated as he saw through time. He saw his blue robes adorning her body. It was tangible. He could reach in time and touch the fabric. He could touch the skin beyond. He could see the eyes that shone green with light and gave him their light.
Light and destruction intertwined. Troy was falling. Troy was burning.
The clock of fate turned its hand and now…it had begun. The course of fate that would bring them together.
It was not only a matter of time anymore. Their history had started. The future was unraveling as was Troy's destiny.
Fate was such a fickle thing. Intricate and balanced. It would seem he could not have Caroline without Troy burning and so he would have the city burnt to the ground only to have her. Prince Damon was already in Sparta and he had already sent Rebekah there to taunt him and Queen Elena.
He had to bind Caroline to him before Damon would return to Troy along with the destruction he would carry with him.
Klaus opened his hand and a rose blossomed in the sun. Petal after petal in full bloom as if Sage herself had blessed it with her grace. Only this was his flower. His promise. A rose red like blood that carried both sunlight and darkness; with thorns that dripped both the poison that had cursed Caroline's beloved as well as the cure the Princess of Troy was seeking for the Prince of Thebes.
The mortal Prince's life was hanging in the balance. His survival and death were now on the Princess' hands.
As was of what would become of Troy. How long Troy would last beyond its unavoidable plunge into annihilation was now in Caroline's hands.
It all started at this very moment. In the prayer that fell from the Princess of Troy's lips.
He placed the stem of the rose into the sharp edges of the black mouth that gently bit to it.
"Go to her," Klaus commanded, and his Raven flew for Troy carrying the rose and his promise to Caroline.
*Hamartia : Sin