Chapter Twenty-Two: I did not do it on purpose


Paris, France

October 16th, 1793


The Place de la Révolution had transformed into a cacophonous frenzy threatening to burst from the hordes of bloodthirsty citizens. In their hungry anticipation, they were jeering, cackling, screaming, sobbing, and singing. Not all were demanding a head, but the ones that were were the loudest. Caroline had lived long enough to recognize this was a recurring theme during revolutions.

She was standing far from the center of the crowd's attention – not a scaffold, but a stage, a stage featuring a terrifying set piece. The guillotine's blade gleamed in the midday sun, filled with both menace and promise. Little boys pointed to it and gestured to show their friends how it worked. Men were screaming for the death of the Austrian princess while their wives gossiped to each other about the Affair of the Diamond Necklace. The vampire was wearing a very simple black dress and veil, playing the part of a discreet peasant woman. She was leaning against a building and absorbing every moment.

Finally, the sound of creaking wheels quieted the mob temporarily before their voices rose again in unanimous, wrathful crescendo as the fated prisoner was driven through the square. She was in an open cart, which allowed, or more so encouraged, the throngs to spit, scream, and jeer at her. When the cart reached the scaffold, she was led up the stairs and Caroline got her first good look at the forsaken queen.

She looked wan and skinny; tired to the point of bone-weary; exhausted and wrung-out to the point of shattered. She looked like a girl who had been forced to marry a stranger when she was fourteen. She looked like a consort who had failed to become politically savvy; a ruler who was unable to connect with her people. She looked like a mother who would never see her children again – whose children were about to be orphans with very uncertain futures. She was born a princess of a powerful dynasty and she would die a queen of a deposed monarchy.

They had shorn her hair and dressed her in a plain, white widow's dress, a far cry from the elaborate fancies she had popularized throughout the western world. She looked so painfully human, but there was nothing to be done. Caroline was here to observe and to protect her people and lands, not alter history. If this was what her fellow countrymen wanted, then so be it. She may not like it, but she understood it. She understood anger.

That did not make it easy to watch. As the queen crossed the platform to the guillotine, she must have accidentally trod on her executioner's foot, for Caroline's advanced hearing picked up her whispered apology.

"Pardonnez-moi, monsieur. Je ne l'ai pas fait exprès." Pardon me, sir. I did not do it on purpose.

Her face was stoic and calm as she approached the guillotine; this was not like English beheadings in the 16th century – she was not allowed the dignity of having her head covered. This was a very public execution and she was to face her accusers to the last breath.

They led her into position. The executioner grabbed the lever. Above the square, the sun shone brightly. The cries of the mob became even more discordant and vicious.

And then, the blade fell. A terrible hush blanketed the masses. Everyone waited with bated breath as the silver sliver sliced down with a resounding clang and the head rolled across the scaffold. It took only a moment for someone to grab it by the hair and raising it high, proving they had done it. They had guillotined Marie Antoinette.

Caroline had seen enough; with one swishing motion, she turned and forced her way through the oncoming masses as hundreds tried to get closer to the scaffold in the hopes of getting a better look. They were excited, giddy, uproarious. Caroline knew it had only made them hungry for more. She reached the end of the street and turned down an alley to make her way back to the apartment they had been staying in. Niklaus appeared in front of her just as she raised her veil from her face.

"Caroline," he said in a low voice.

Her eyes were dry as she stared at him. "Did you see it?" she asked bleakly.

He nodded slowly. "I was on a rooftop."

She glanced back towards the main street, which was quickly becoming clogged with rioters eager to catch a glimpse of the former queen's head.

"It's only the beginning," she noted, turning back to face her husband.

He set his jaw. "I know."

"I'm going back to the apartment, but I would like to leave at dawn and return to Ebanne," she told him.

He nodded. "I'm going to stay out here for a little while; it makes for easy hunting. I'll be home in a few hours."

She wanted to tell him this was not the time to take advantage of the violence. She wanted to demand he come back to the apartment and hold her. She wanted to forget this day ever happened. She wanted to scream at him for being so distant until he told her what was bothering him.

She didn't do any of those things. Instead, she nodded curtly and walked away.


Ni'ihau Island, Kingdom of Hawaii

1795


Pacari had been on the small island for less than a day when he found them. They were very good at hiding; their settlement was in a series of caves and lagoons on the opposite end of the island from the human village and protected by various spells and curses. But he had used such witchcraft before and was able to get through the first barrier when a witch appeared at the mouth of a cave. She was wearing a traditional skirt and wore a shell necklace and did not look particularly pleased to see him.

"How did you get through those warding spells, Vampire?" she asked suspiciously.

"I come in peace to study with your coven," he told her.

She looked him over with narrowed black eyes. "How did you get through?" This time, she sounded more curious than threatening.

He took a small step towards the cave. "I am not a true vampire, but a witch-vampire hybrid."

Her eyes widened imperceptibly, and she turned abruptly on her heel, waving her hand behind her. Pacari noticed a slight shimmer over the mouth of the cave; she was opening the last wards to let him in. He flashed into the cave and followed her as she led the way into the dark.

"You're not surprised such a species exists," he observed as they walked.

She shook her head. "Luckily for you, someone arrived here over a year ago with similar objectives. She told us such hybrids exist."

"Who?" he asked, wondering if his sire was on this island.

The witch did not answer. They had reached the shore of a vast lake; it was in an enormous cavern featuring an oculus through which sunlight poured down. Members of the coven were performing their daily chores and sending Pacari guarded looks. The witch gestured for him to follow her around the perimeter of the lake to a jetty. A lithe-figured woman with long black hair was sitting lotus-style on a rock with her back to them.

"Who managed to get through, Kai?" she murmured.

Kai glanced warily at Pacari before answering. "He says he is a witch-vampire hybrid."

There was a pause, and then the woman rose to her feet with one fluid motion.

"Please leave us," she said without turning around.

Kai turned and walked back to the shore. Pacari raised an eyebrow.

"Are you their leader?" he asked.

The woman let out a musical laugh. "No; they just have a lot of respect for me."

She turned around then. Pacari started; never before had he seen someone with eyes the color of amethyst and with eyelashes so naturally thick. She was beautiful, with olive-toned skin, high cheekbones, and full lips. She wasn't Hawaiian – if he had to hazard a guess, he'd say she was Japanese. Her intense eyes blinked at him without any wariness or timidity. In fact, she looked fascinated.

"You're Pacari, aren't you?" she said.

He tilted his head. "How do you know that?"

"Have you ever heard the name Mariko Kurosawa?" she asked.

Pacari frowned. "That's the witch Caroline killed to get back at Kol for the massacre at Des Cendres."

The witch smiled grimly. "Almost true. And have you ever heard tales of Riko d'Ebanne?"

Pacari's frown deepened. "I can't say I have, but Caroline d'Ebanne is my sire."

The witch grinned. "She sure is. And I created her strain."

His eyes widened with shock. "I never knew who it was; all I ever knew was a powerful witch transformed her."

"The Mikaelsons have always been very good at keeping secrets. And your wife has mixed feelings about me," the witch told him with a shrug. "I was born Mariko Kurosawa, but I changed my name to Riko d'Ebanne after I moved to Des Cendres and made myself immortal."

"That's impossible. Kol saw her dead body," Pacari said flatly. "In Versailles one night, it took copious amounts of alcohol to get him drunk enough to open up about her. He came back to Japan and saw Mariko's body with his own eyes before Caroline's former student told him it was an act of revenge."

"I took a potion to make me seem dead. It was a ruse," she told him softly. "After he left, I woke up and Caroline took me away."

Pacari whistled. "I knew my sire was ruthless, but that's pretty low."

"You shouldn't be so quick to judge Caroline," she advised him. "Do you know we missed each other by minutes?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I was just behind Rebekah when you saw her for the first time in centuries. You flashed past me as you followed her out of the house," said Mariko.

"I take it Kol knows of your deceit then?"

A shadow flickered over the witch's face. "He does. Or, he did. He asked Niklaus to dagger him that night."

"I'm not entirely surprised. You were very special to him," he told her with a raised eyebrow.

She shook her head. "Enough about that now. What are you doing here, Pacari?"

Pacari sat down on a boulder and stared into the lake. "When I first awoke as a vampire, I spent several decades attempting to fight off the inevitability of Pizarro and the invasion. When the last Incan stronghold fell, I left Peru and vowed to find my wife. I know Kol isn't perfect, but he helped me find Rebekah."

Mariko grimaced. "But she turned you away."

"She did," he agreed lowly. "So now I must find a new purpose in life."

Mariko sat next to him. "Developing your powers?"

He nodded. "I came here chasing rumors about a powerful coven hidden on an isolated island. I guess it's pretty fortuitous I happened upon you."

She smiled. "I doubt it; we're both powerful witches looking to expand our knowledge of our craft. Serendipity has nothing to do with it."

He laughed. "I'll warn you; I'm not a very good witch. I had to train myself after my mother died."

Her smile deepened. "I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit, Pacari. You made it through my first barrier. I'm sure you'll make a fine pupil."

She conjured a flame and threw it at him; he caught it reflexively.

"Your training starts now."


New Orleans, Spanish Louisiana

December 1799


The party was in full swing when he arrived; the mansion was filled to the brim with witches, vampires, werewolves, and humans. Elijah had to weave his way past the supernatural partiers as they drank, gambled, danced, and flirted. The hosts were the richest human couple in New Orleans, and everyone was dressed to impress. As he searched each room, he had to shrug off various revelers who tried to engage him in conversation and ply him with alcohol. It wasn't until he entered a darkened, quiet parlor in the back of mansion that he spotted his sister.

Rebekah was sitting at a poker table surrounded by several young men, drinking a glass of champagne, and holding a very impressive hand, from the looks of it. Elijah paused just a few feet from the table.

"What is it, Elijah? Have you decided to join the celebrations or are you here to scold me for gambling away our fortune?" she asked in a bored drawl as she lazily pushed another stack of chips to the center of the table. "I think it'd take an awful lot of poker to put a dent in that."

He hesitated long enough for her to turn towards him and raise her eyebrows.

"Niklaus and Caroline are returning," he admitted.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her game. "I thought you were going to say something of actual importance, brother."

"So, you're okay with this?"

Rebekah did not answer right away. The last round was over; everyone was showing their hands. She laid down her royal flush for the gentlemen to see and a collective groan traveled around the circle.

"Better luck next time, gentlemen," she told them with a smirk.

Elijah stood up and walked until he stood behind her as the gentlemen got up to stretch and empty their pockets. His sister turned to him with a sigh.

"It's been nearly nine years. Did you expect me to throw a temper tantrum? This is my town, my city. I'm not going to run and hide to avoid seeing her. I don't care about her. Do whatever you want, Elijah; I won't be offended if you talk to her. I'm sure she'll regal you with tales of the Revolution," she said dismissively as the gentlemen placed coins and checks in front of her with their compliments.

Elijah frowned. "Caroline has been very affected by this war; she's quite upset."

"Oh, I see. You've been in communication with her. You," she said pointedly to one of the young men. "Stay."

Elijah sat down in the vacated seat next to her. "We send letters, yes. I think the whole thing with Kol drove a wedge into her marriage. She's lonely."

"And you as well," she said to another man. "I hope you're not asking me to send her a letter; she deserves to be lonely," she told Elijah as she rose to her feet, smoothed her hands over her gold satin skirt, and turned towards her suitors. She took both of their proffered arms. "Don't wait up, Elijah."

Elijah watched as the trio left the room and Rebekah's fake giggle echoed down the hallway. He picked up his sister's forgotten glass of champagne and swigged it as a loud cry rang throughout the house.

"Happy New Year!"


After leaving Paris, Caroline and Niklaus returned to Ebanne to defend it against the newly formed government that was stripping all nobles of their estates. Auxor Castle was already well-protected, but the Ebanne lands needed more spells to ward off invaders. Since the coven already ruled fairly and did not let any farmers or villagers starve in the territory, there was no fear of revolt within the ducal boundaries. Once the defensive spells were completed, Caroline traveled throughout the countryside helping her people remain calm during the war and making sure they were fed and healthy. Niklaus spent his time making vampires and sending out spies to trace Katerina. In the long years of war, the couple went back to Paris very few times. Each visit proved to be fruitless as the war was only causing more chaos. They attended the wedding of an ambitious and rising young general called Napoleon Bonaparte, to Marie Josephe Rose 'Josephine' de Beauharnais, a noblewoman whose previous husband had been guillotined. Niklaus had a lot of opinions about Bonaparte but couldn't help a grudging respect. By November of 1799, the war was over; Caroline's country of birth would never be the same. They made plans to leave the following spring.


Normandy, Kingdom of France

April 1800


All the way to the port city of Le Havre, Niklaus could tell his wife was nervous. She was wringing her hands and glancing around the carriage as if the walls were closing in on her. When he asked her to leave France a few months previously, she seemed relieved. But then he had specified that he intended to return home, to New Orleans, and a melancholia had almost immediately been cast over her. He assumed it was due to feeling guilty about what had happened with Kol, Pacari, Bekah, and Mariko.

"If you're nervous about Bekah, don't be," he told her as they neared the port. "It's been nine years. She may pretend to be upset with you at first, but she'll forgive you as soon as she needs a companion for the opera."

She sent him a sharp look. "I don't think share your confidence. I deserve her anger."

He couldn't disagree. He went back to staring out the window and ignoring her anxiety. In the years since his fateful conversation with Kol, he had come so close to confronting his wife about what his brother had said, yet he never went through with it. He knew it was cowardly and he knew it was only making things worse for their relationship, but he feared the answer.

"It's not just Bekah; I don't really want to see that place again after everything that happened."

"That place has been our home for nearly a century. It's been nine long years away from it," he reprimanded her dully. "Your people fought for a decade, Caroline. I think we've given them plenty of opportunities to fix their problems. Now, they're probably worse off than they were before this all started."

"You could have left at any time!" she snapped at him.

He fixed her with a steely gaze. "Is that what you would have preferred?"

Her cheeks paled. "No, no. That's not what I meant. I asked you to come and I am grateful you joined me. I know you've been upset with me and have been for some time. But thank you for coming; I don't know how I would have dealt with all this without you."

He ignored her comments about his feelings towards her. "Of course, Caroline," he told her, meaning it.

She smiled at him, and he felt connected to her for the first time in a long time. And then she spoke.

"I also need to find Pacari; it's time. I've been ignoring this for far too long. Part of the reason I'm not ready to face Bekah again is because I need to face Pacari first."

The carriage shuddered to a halt and the driver opened the door.

"We have arrived; the ship leaves within the hour, s'long as the winds are in your favor," he informed them.

Niklaus sent his wife a searching look before exiting the carriage and holding a hand for her. She held it as she stepped down. The carriages carrying their luggage came up behind them and men started carrying chests up the gangplank.

"Can we talk about Pacari then?" he asked abruptly.

Caroline bit her lip. "There's nothing to say; I should have told Bekah as soon as I realized he had transitioned, but I didn't."

"Instead, you waited 300 years; tell me, if Kol hadn't revealed your dirty little secret, would you have ever told Rebekah or anyone what you had done?"

Husband and wife stared at each other. Finally, Caroline looked away, shame coloring her face.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I kept telling myself to find him, but I -."

"How could you keep something like that from my sister? She was broken after Peru," he interrupted accusatorily.

"I didn't know he survived! Or if he had survived, that he had chosen to become a vampire. The volcano… It was like nothing I've ever seen. I didn't think I would survive it. When he finally broke free of the lava and finished the transition, a year had gone by. I tried to tell her, but she wouldn't let me even say his name. I didn't want to upset her further."

"What a responsible sire you were," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I wanted to search for him, but there was always something in the way: Mikael, or New Orleans, or Katerina," she protested.

"Oh, I see; being a part of this family has become a burden for you, then? God, who are you Caroline!"

Caroline's face grew red with fury. "How dare you accuse me of not caring about this family! I have done everything for you and your siblings. I gave Pacari my blood for Rebekah. I knew he might come to resent her if she turned him; he was a witch – it sucks to be taken away from that power. You know what else I did for your sister? I died for her. I have sacrificed my peace of mind to travel with all of you, always on the run from Mikael, and all the other enemies you've made over the centuries. I've put up with the sibling fights, your tantrums, Bekah's dramatics, and Elijah's condescension. And don't even get me started on your little brother!"

"Oh, yes, bring up your favorite fucking subject: Kol," he snarled viciously.

She crossed her arms. "I'm sorry; is there something you want to say about Kol?"

"Don't you think your latest torture for him took things a bit too far in your little game?" he asked, avoiding his real question to instead get a rise out of her.

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him in disbelief.

"Game? You think it was a game when Kol slaughtered all but one of my students in Paris? He murdered 39 children in cold blood because he was feeling a little out of sorts!"

He shook his head in frustration. "We're ancient vampires! Sometimes we lose control! And he was feeling out of sorts because he had been ravaging England for twenty years taking revenge for the death of Joan of Arc. Why was he doing that? Oh, right! You were too sad to do it yourself!"

A silence rang out between them then, and Niklaus knew he could never take back what he had said. A cold look settled over his wife's face; one he'd seen very few times in his life, and never directed at himself.

"I didn't realize my depression and heartbreak over the execution of one of the most important people in my life was such a burden for you. You accuse me of being too cowardly? What kind of cowardice was it to kill your mother and never confess to your siblings?"

He took a step towards her. "Don't talk to me about that, Caroline. I never should have told you; it was a mistake."

"A mistake to be honest with your wife?" she asked.

"Yes, a mistake, because now you're using it against me as leverage," he said, running his hands through his hair.

There was a short pause while she stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Do you honestly think I'd do that to you?"

"Trust has always been hard for me; you know that, Caroline," he murmured.

Another silence rang out. Suddenly, all the sounds of reality rushed back in. The sails slapping against the wind, the captain shouting orders, the waves rolling into the docks.

Caroline stared out at the Channel and allowed a single tear to fall down her face.

"We should get on the ship," Niklaus said gruffly.

She shook her head sadly.

"Come, Caroline," he said impatiently.

She brushed the tear away. "I think it's best if I stayed here."

"I know you're nervous about seeing Bekah, but what would staying here accomplish? There's nothing else to be done for France now. We need to return to the family, to New Orleans. I've been gone for too long as it is," he said, thinking about all the plans he had for his city. He would have all those witches at his disposal; all the easier to hunt Katerina.

"And you should return to New Orleans and the family," Caroline agreed.

He closed his eyes. "You mean to separate," he said quietly.

"I'm serious about finding Pacari. And…Something has been broken between you and me. I was the reason Kol asked you to dagger him. I cannot live with you in that house, with his daggered body in the cellar, knowing you blame me for that," she said emphatically.

"That isn't what I meant," he started, but she stopped him.

"It is. That's fair. He's your brother, your blood. I suppose I can admit I've let our vendetta stretch out far too long and involve too many people, but I don't regret what I did to him. I'm happy he's in a box. I'm happy for his misery. I do regret not telling Bekah about Pacari immediately, but I didn't want to get her hopes up for nothing. And when he finally woke up, we were so far away, and she was so damaged. It is true that I've interfered with your sibling's lives a lot over the years," she admitted.

He turned towards the ship and considered it. Though the idea of separating pained him initially, he realized he was starting to feel relief, as if a great weight was being lifted from his chest. He looked back at his wife. "I love you, Caroline."

She gave him a pained smile. "I could never stop loving you, Nik. But the passionate love affair we've carried on for centuries has admittedly faded. We barely had sex in France. We didn't have long, deep talks. We grew weary of each other's company. We aren't inspired by one another anymore. You crave revenge on Katerina; I crave peace after what my country has just done to itself. Our goals and needs are leading us in different directions."

"I know they are," Niklaus agreed. "I've been feeling it since I daggered Kol. But I didn't know how to feel about it."

"So, you came to France to try to salvage it. And found you wanted nothing to do with me," she said for him.

"I'm sorry, Caroline. Maybe a break will help us make sense of our relationship," he sighed, not knowing whether or not that was true.

"Maybe. But on the other hand, it will do nothing but strengthen the discord between us unless we air some things out first," she said, looking at him levelly.

His eyes narrowed. "I wasn't aware we had anything to air out," he lied.

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? So, you're not going to ask me?"

"Ask you what?"

She took a step towards him. "This distance between us… The way you looked at me after you daggered Kol… It's not because of the games, the constant revenge plots, not only because of that, anyway. He said something to you, didn't he? Implied something?"

He said nothing.

"Did he tell you he's in love with me?" she asked bluntly.

His mouth was a very thin line.

"He's not," Caroline said firmly. "He was for a time, but that passed."

He scoffed and shook his head. "Oh, and now you're the expert on the secrets of someone else's heart?"

"I know Kol," she said.

He peered into her eyes and asked his terrible question. "Did you sleep with him?"

Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Answer the question, Caroline," he said grimly.

"No."

"No, you won't answer the question, or no, you've never slept with him?" he asked for clarification.

"The latter," she confirmed.

"That's it; that's all I get?"

She adjusted her traveling cloak, then fidgeted with her skirt. "You asked me if I've ever slept with Kol and I gave you the answer: no. What else do you want from me?"

"An explanation of what happened in Africa," he demanded, stepping close to her and grabbing her wrists.

"We were friends," said Caroline, staring at him.

"Bullshit," he snapped.

"Do you really want me to spell it out for you?"

"I want to understand this exactly."

"I would never, ever sleep with your brother, Nik. Not then, not now."

"Please answer the question."

She sighed. "It's not easy to explain, because Kol and I could communicate so much without any words. I know you think I owe you more of an explanation than that, but I don't," she told him flatly. "We were friends; one day, he realized he desired more, but he always implicitly understood that could never happen. He may have felt the echo of that love, that longing, in the years that followed, but nothing was ever acted on. Whatever he said to you in New Orleans, he said to cause friction in our marriage."

"It worked; I feel as if I do not know you anymore," he said lowly, still holding her wrists.

She shrugged helplessly. "And now we come back to the place we began."

He let go of her and turned towards the ship. He believed she was telling the truth, but it didn't mean things could go back to normal between them. She was right: something between them had broken, and he had delayed acknowledging it for nearly a decade. "Can you sense where Pacari is?"

"He's on the other side of the world. I have to take a ship around the Horn of Africa, through the Indian Ocean, and across the Pacific. It is a long journey," she said.

Then, at the same time, they flashed to each other and embraced fiercely.

"Are you sure, Caroline? How can we fix this if we're apart?" he whispered hoarsely.

"We've spent the majority of the past four hundred years together. I think this is for the best," she told him.

"You're still my wife. Never forget that. I will always come for you when you need me," he promised.

"I know; and I you. Behave yourself, my love."

"Always do," he promised wickedly.

She smirked. "If you find Katerina, I'll allow you to give her one kiss."

He rolled his eyes and then laid his forehead on hers. "If ten years go by, I'll come for you."

"Let's not put a number on it. We will find each other again. We always do."

He was not quite so confident.

"Take care of your siblings. Be kind to Bekah," she ordered softly.

He nodded.

"Monsieur et Madame Mikaelson? The ship is ready." The driver had returned.

Niklaus pulled away from his wife and turned towards the driver.

"My lady's effects must be taken off," he said in a low voice.

Caroline shook her head. "It's fine; I don't want to delay you further. It'll be easier to travel without all that, anyway."

"Madame?" the driver questioned.

"My husband will be on the ship in just a moment," she told him. "I will be returning to town until I find a ship sailing East."

The driver bowed and walked back to the carriage, leaving the couple alone on the dock. Niklaus searched for the words to say goodbye, but her mouth was on his suddenly, and her arms were pulling him to her. He responded feverishly, desperately, drinking her in, memorizing the sensation of her lips on his, her alluring scent, the soft moans she made as they embraced.

As quickly as it began, it was over. He took her hand in his and kissed it.

"Goodbye, Caroline."

She ran her hand through his hair. "Until we see each other next, my love."

He flashed up the gangplank and watched her climb back into the carriage, glancing up at him as she sat down. She caressed her wedding band. He held his hand to his heart. The driver shut the door. His last glimpse of his wife for many years was her sad smile through the carriage window as she was driven away.


Ni'ihau Island, Kingdom of Hawaii

1801


Mariko splashed across the shallow lagoon and whipped a flame at Pacari, which he avoided narrowly as he chanted under his breath. The ocean floor shook beneath them, but instead of catching the Immortal Witch off-guard, she hovered in the air with a grin.

"And now I have the higher ground," she scolded him.

He hissed at her, before flashing towards her, grabbing her ankle, and tossing her into deeper waters. Her head popped out and she flicked her jet-black hair over her shoulder.

"You forget I have super speed and strength," he called to her.

"Touché."

Both of them felt the new presence at the exact same moment and snapped their heads to the cliff overlooking the lagoon. A blond woman wearing far too many layers for the warm climate was staring down at them with a shocked expression.

"I came here looking for my first progeny, and find he's befriended the witch who created me," Caroline yelled to them.

Mariko held a hand to her ear in a mocking gesture. "Sorry; what was that?"

Pacari grinned at her before sending another shock through the earth and causing his sire to fall into the lagoon. As she sputtered out of the water, her clothes soaked through, she sent them each a cross look. They both swam towards her, but Pacari was much faster.

"Hello, Caroline," said the hybrid.

"Hello, Pacari. I know this may be coming too little, too late, but I am sorry for everything," she said softly.

He shrugged. "I've learned to let go of a lot of my anger these past few years. It's not as if you forced your blood down my throat; what you did insured my survival that day."

She opened her mouth to apologize further, but he cut her off.

"It's alright, Caroline. I forgive you."

Mariko reached them, out of breath. "When I came here seven years ago, I was trying to find some peace and quiet."

Pacari splashed her. "Oh, please. You'd have been bored without me."

Mariko grinned. "Maybe." She turned to Caroline and tilted her head to the side as she studied her old friend.

"What is it, Caroline? Did Nik come with you?"

Before Pacari could blink, Caroline had fallen into Mariko.

"Nik and I," she started painfully.

Mariko's eyes widened. "You've separated, haven't you?"

Caroline nodded into the witch's arms. "My marriage is in shambles."

"It's okay, Caroline. We'll figure this out," Mariko soothed.

Pacari placed a gentle hand on his sire's head. "You're among friends."


A/N: Thank you for reading! Since I don't have an editor (clearly) or a beta, I've had to edit after receiving reviews. As a result, I've removed any mention of Caroline being Fae from previous chapters. The Fae stuff was part of my original storyline before I cut back. Bringing the Fae into the story was simply too True Blood for TVD fanfiction, and honestly, it wasn't important enough to the plot to remain. She's back to being a witch with 'very special powers,' i.e., her showing people their death; this does have importance. I lately realized there were a lot of convoluted plot points (probably due to me taking months between chapters to update), which I have tried to fix in my recent rewrites. Your reviews are always appreciated. Enjoy! ~L