Chapter Twenty-Four
Broken
New Orleans, Louisiana
1816
Rebekah allowed herself to be led across the ballroom by her boorish dance partner. The silk layers of her ivory skirts swirling around them brought her no joy, nor did the many admiring glances sent her way. Though this was technically her party, she hadn't come downstairs until it was in full swing, and was already counting down the minutes until she could disappear again. Her mind wandered as the waltz dragged on.
It was important their vassals never forgot the masters of the city. Even more important, they had to keep their eyes and ears open at all times; keep their enemies closer. But there was no political intrigue or machinations afoot tonight. Rebekah would be ashamed of how dull her own party was - if she actually cared. She had lost interest in impressing people long ago. I can meet up with Nik in the bayou if I leave now, she thought. Or join Elijah's meeting with the governor.
There were rumors of pirates in the gulf. Klaus suspected they were being aided by witches from the islands who helped disguise their ships.
Hunting pirates in the swamp or a stuffy meeting with Elijah and a politician?
Nik. Definitely, Nik.
The dance finally came to a close. Her partner winked at her before bowing pompously. She rolled her eyes-
-and spotted the interloper immediately. It had been many decades since she'd seen the vampire surrounded by a slew of admirers in the far corner, but Rebekah would know her anywhere. She turned away from her partner without a word and crossed the room.
"I don't like party crashers," she said loudly when she reached the group.
There was a pause. Then, like Moses parting the Red Sea, the young men surrounding the vampire fanned out to reveal the object of their affections.
The redhead wore a navy gown that perfectly accentuated her coloring, to the Original's great annoyance. "Bonjour, petite soeur."
Rebekah folded her arms with a frown. "We're not sisters, Sage."
"I'll never stop hoping - which is why I'm here."
"No," the blond interrupted flatly.
"He's no danger to any of you! Why can't-?"
"The answers no, Sage. Or would you rather appeal directly to Nik? He might not be as nice as I am," Rebekah warned.
Sage clenched her fists. "Finn's been daggered for seven centuries!"
"Good riddance. My family has enough enemies; we don't need another," Rebekah drawled lazily.
"He's your brother!" Sage hissed.
"Elijah and Nik are the only ones who ever acted like true brothers. They are all the family I need."
Sage gazed at the Original for a long time, her expression cool. "You've changed, Bekah. The girl I knew all those years ago would not have been so cruel."
Rebekah glowered at her. "Don't use my past against me!" She took a moment to compose herself; she didn't want to give Sage the satisfaction of knowing she'd gotten to her. "And don't flatter yourself, Sage. We barely knew each other back then."
The redhead pressed on, undeterred. "What about Caroline? Perhaps she'd be willing to help me; she's never been afraid of her husband."
Rebekah ground her teeth. "Caroline does not live here anymore."
Sage raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Why not?"
"None of your bloody business," Rebekah snapped, annoyed she'd revealed such a private matter to Sage.
"Do you know where she is?"
"No, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. Get out of here. Seriously," Rebekah warned dismissively as she turned away.
Her dance partner caught up with her halfway across the ballroom floor and handed her a drink. She downed it in one gulp.
"Friend of yours?" he inquired as Sage hastened out of the ballroom, her pale face flushed with fury.
"I don't have any friends."
Vienna, Austrian Empire
1827
As Pacari settled into his velvet seat, he stared at the majestic opera house in awe. Not much managed to impress him anymore, but this gilded venue was a special exception. He gazed at the audience members preening in their most impressive evening wear. People from all over the world came to Vienna to hear the best composers. He and his companions were caught up in the thrill of it and eagerly attended every performance they could. Caroline and Mariko sat on either side of him, both wearing fashionable evening gowns and gloves. Tonight they would be serenaded with music from an exciting young Austrian called Schubert.
The first chords were struck. Pacari focused his attention on the stage. Mariko brought her opera glasses to her face; the glint of gold caused him to glance towards her in a knee-jerk reaction. He froze. A woman wearing a crimson gown sat in the box across from him, staring. After a moment, she raised her gloved hand. He waved back in shock. The performance continued. They both settled back into their seats, glancing at each other frequently.
At intermission, he nearly ran towards the lobby in his haste, weaving his way around excited patrons.
There she is, he thought when he spotted the brunette gracefully descending the marble staircase. Her expression was cautiously optimistic.
Pacari smiled up at her as she approached him.
"Hallo, Katerina," he greeted.
Katerina Petrova looked well – but then, when didn't she? Her heavily ornamented gown was crimson with a pattern of burgundy roses, and had very fanciful, puffy sleeves that were the unfortunate vogue of the day.
"It's been a long time, Pacari," she said, taking his hand.
"Too long, old friend. Are you living in Vienna now or just passing through?"
She slid her eyes to the corner of the room. He caught on immediately, guiding her towards the more private area.
"Passing through. You know me - I like to stay alive," she said drily.
"Ah, Katerina. What a strange time you've had."
"Speaking of staying alive, I go by Katherine now," she said. "Katherine Pierce."
He laughed loudly, making her scowl at him.
"I know it's not the most exciting alias, but that's the point. Klaus has spies everywhere," she complained. "I had to find some way to fade into the background."
His laughter stopped. "Ah, tis true."
They'd reached the corner. She faced him full on, her courteous expression dropped for a serious one.
"Pacari, what the hell happened in New Orleans? After you left, Kol vanished and I had to hightail it out of there before Klaus caught me. I haven't had any contact from Kol since," she rushed out, her dark gaze glancing around the room automatically. "Is he with you?"
Pacari sighed. "Kol is daggered."
She froze. "No. He can't be daggered. Not again," she whispered, her face going white. "Was it Caroline d'Ebanne?"
"No," he said, shaking his head deliberately. "Kol asked Klaus to dagger him. There were, uh, complications when we got to the mansion." His eyes flicked over her shoulder and spotted Mariko and Caroline entering the lobby, clearly looking for him. Oh, no.
Katerina frowned. "That's absurd. Kol would never ask to be daggered. This is Klaus we're talking about, Pacari. Who's your source? You said nothing of this before you left."
He sighed. "I didn't know then. I left right after my conversation with Rebekah. It was years later that I learned what happened to Kol."
"From whom? Who told you he'd been daggered?"
"I did." Mariko had joined them. Pacari glanced at her and inwardly groaned; Caroline stood just behind her, her eyes wide with recognition as she stared at his companion. She'd spoken to him often of her husband's obsession with the doppelgänger. Apparently, he kept a painting of her in the morning room of their New Orleans mansion so he could raise a glass to her likeness every day, never forgetting his animosity.
Katerina twisted around to face them defensively, her eyes already looking for escape routes. There were none – the lobby was too full. Pacari laid a hand on her forearm to calm her.
"They are friends of mine, Ka-therine, and can be trusted. They're not spies for Klaus," he assured her, fighting off a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
She relaxed slightly. "I still don't believe it. Why would he ask Klaus to stab him with that thing? We have to take it out."
"No," said Mariko. "We've done enough to Kol; it is time to leave him be. Though," she added with a smirk, "I admire your loyalty to him – risking Klaus' wrath to save your old lover."
"I'm sorry – have we met?" Katerina asked in a snide tone.
Pacari closed his eyes. This was exactly the kind of confrontation he'd been trying to avoid.
The witch's lips quirked up in an ironic smile. "Like you, Katerina, I've had many identities over the centuries. I've been called the Undying Witch and Riko d'Ebanne. However, you'll probably recognize me by my birth name: Kurosawa Mariko."
Katerina gaped at her. "That's impossible. Mariko Kurosawa was killed by Klaus' wife."
Caroline shifted.
"Ah, no," Mariko said. "I faked my death. Then I turned myself into an immortal. It's not so dissimilar to your origin story, actually."
Katerina looked at him for confirmation. He nodded. She turned back towards the witch with wariness and begrudging respect.
"If you betrayed Kol," Katerina started, her sharp mind already piecing it together, "And he discovered that in New Orleans… He asked his brother to dagger him due to a broken heart. Because of your betrayal."
Mariko shrugged, but Pacari could see through her act. "I don't deny it," she muttered. "Do not seek him out. He wanted a break."
Katerina hissed at her, her eyes flashing black for a brief moment. "How long a break?"
Mariko raised her eyebrows at Pacari. "I take my leave now. Good luck to you, Katerina."
She dissolved back into the crowd, but the Incan hybrid did not miss the sorrow that flashed across her face as she did.
The brunette glared at Pacari expectantly. He grimaced.
"Kol wanted to sleep for 300 years."
Her head jolted back. "No. No, we need to take that dagger out of him."
Caroline studied the doppelgänger. "You are really loyal to him."
Katerina crossed her arms and arced an eyebrow. "I owe him a life debt. He protected me from Klaus for decades."
"I often wondered what you would be like when I finally met you, Katerina, and I'm glad to find you don't disappoint," Caroline said, her features alight with fascination. "You're a survivor. I respect that. I respect it so much that I feel obliged to warn you from seeking him out. I say this to protect you, not threaten you – Klaus knows of your relationship with Kol. He wants you to find his body - so he can end you."
Katerina looked at Pacari again.
"I'm sorry, Katherine. Kol really did ask Niklaus to stab him," he told her bracingly. "New Orleans did not live up to expectations for either of us."
Katerina's gaze snapped back to Caroline. "And what business is it of yours? Who are you to give me advice about Klaus?" she demanded.
Caroline shook her head. "That is unimportant. I regret you no longer have your protector and I'm sorry your life has never been fair."
The younger vampire started in affront. "You know nothing of my life."
Caroline winced, but this only angered Katerina more.
"And why would I listen to you? Do you know how old I am?"
Caroline was suddenly a hair's breadth away from the bold Bulgarian. Her eyes were nothing but black. "You should listen to the person who understands Niklaus Mikaelson better than anyone else on this earth. For once in your life, Miss Petrova, you've had a lucky day. If I were on speaking terms with my husband, I'd feel obligated to bring you to him. As it stands, I'm letting you off with a warning. Tell no one of who you saw tonight, or the First Carolinian Hybrid will destroy you."
Katerina almost choked. "Caroline – you're Caroline d'Ebanne."
"Take care, Katerina," Caroline said, running her fingers through her long brown tresses. "I can see why they fought over her...so pretty." Then, she turned on her heel and disappeared in the throng.
Pacari gave the vampire an apologetic look. "Well, that went better than expected."
"I'd say it was good to see you, Pacari, but I don't know if that's true," she remarked in a numb voice.
"Until the next time?" he offered half-heartedly.
She gathered her skirts with a smirk. "Absolutely. There's always a next time with me."
"Auf wiedersehen, old friend."
A light breeze wafted over the hybrid and Katerina was gone.
Des Cendres
Southern Tibet
April 1840
Elijah watched from afar as his sister-in-law crossed blades with Gita. The two women were sparring on a precarious mountain ledge, using the elements to aid in their fight. Though they were nearly a mile away, he could hear their heavy panting, grunts, and the sharp, stinging sound of their swords clanging together. Both of them had tied back their long manes and were wearing simple training gear. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he inclined his head to the right without turning around.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were fighting to kill," he murmured to his ex-lover.
Abambe stepped onto the spacious balcony and paused beside him.
"They are distracting themselves. Four hundred years," she muttered in disgust. "It's not a happy anniversary."
Elijah's gaze returned to the sparring warriors. Their footwork was made all the more impressive due to their hazardous environment. "Do you ever wonder where we'd be if Kol had never come to the school?"
She laughed humorlessly. "Hasn't immortality proven the folly of such thinking? We can't live in what ifs. Life happens, and we react."
He frowned. They continued watching the sparring match. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "I like to think we have a bit more autonomy than that."
"God, you're naïve. I forgot how naïve you can be, sweet Elijah," she teased him, pulling her robes tighter to her body. "I'll give you this: if Kol hadn't destroyed the first school, we would have been a good deal warmer right now." Abambe had lived in Tibet for centuries, yet she still hated the cold.
"Paris gets cold, too," he reminded her with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, can you imagine Des Cendres surviving the Revolution?"
"What are you saying – the massacre was a good thing?"
"Don't put words in my mouth, Abambe. It's just…better off hidden. It would have only been a matter of time before Mikael discovered us," he predicted.
Abambe considered that. On the mountain ledge, Caroline ran straight up a boulder, twisted in the air, and sliced her sword into Gita's stomach. Gita responded by punching Caroline in the face, and then they were scrambling around on the dirt floor, snarling and cursing, biting and scratching.
"When Caroline turned me, she and Kol were inseparable. The three of us roamed the jungle, with them teaching me how to be a vampire - how to enjoy being a vampire. But I left their company soon after turning because I always felt like a third wheel," Abambe confessed.
He glanced at her sideways. "Her ambiguous past with Kol was the leading factor in her separation from Klaus."
She shook her head, her beaded braids tapping together. "You misunderstand me; I mean to emphasize their powerful friendship."
"Then you don't think there were other emotions involved?"
"That is not for me to say," she said. "But I think Caroline mourns many things on this day. The girls' deaths, the forced abandonment of the original school, and the loss of her very best friend. I would even say a soulmate, but not in the way you are thinking."
Elijah pondered her words thoughtfully. Niklaus had told him essentially every word exchanged between him and his wife when he had returned from France without her. He had been sympathetic to both parties, but naturally took his brother's side. That was, until five years previously, when everything changed, and he'd left New Orleans. He now recognized the gnawing pit in his stomach as one that must have been familiar to Caroline for all those centuries that she had kept Pacari's survival a secret. He would tell his sister-in-law what had happened. He would. Just…not yet. He feared for her safety if she returned – Niklaus was out of control. If he were being truly honest with himself, he was also annoyed with his sister for acting like a petulant child; she should have worked things out with Pacari.
Gita smashed a rock against Caroline's head, but the blond responded by kicking out her legs. They were both drenched in sweat and blood and gore and were covered in dirt. The more violent the fight got, the more energized they appeared to be.
"I'm glad I'm here again; I've missed teaching the girls," he said finally.
"I can affirm you're one of the best teachers I've had," she complimented.
"My humble thanks. I'm glad you're still here; the school would not be the same without you."
She shrugged. "When Caroline returned in the 1600s, we worked out our problems, but agreed it was for the best if I remained headmaster. I offered to step down after the New Orleans...incident. I thought she'd like the distraction. She declined. She'll always be the founder, but she enjoys her freedom too much to linger long. She comes and goes, teaches on and off. Brings me recruits once in awhile. Never hesitates to make suggestions."
"Ah, speaking of suggestions..."
She huffed out a laugh. "I'm listening."
"I've been thinking about a new course specializing in British philosophy, poetry, and literature of the past few decades; I think the girls will enjoy it. A philosopher by the name of Mary Wollstonecraft wrote-"
"What the hell is going on down there?" Pacari exclaimed, joining them on the balcony. "Are you two watching this?"
Abambe turned towards the hybrid. "Calm down, little one. They do this every year they're together for the anniversary."
The hybrid blinked in shock. "And you just watch like Romans at the coliseum?"
"They need this, Pacari. We all have different ways of coping," the headmaster argued.
He gaped at her.
"If it distracted you from your writing, perhaps you should retire to the temple of the void," Elijah suggested, hiding his grin from the Inca.
"I'm going to find Mariko and Emmeline," Pacari said dully before flashing away.
Abambe grinned back at Elijah. "Wish he came around more; tons of fun, that one."
"He doesn't have quite the same taste for violence as some of us," the Original explained. "I have become numb to it at this point."
Caroline and Gita burst into hysterical laughter and began rolling around the mountain ledge. The laughs gradually disintegrated into sobs. They held each other.
"Anyway, I am eager to pick your brain about this idea. The course would eventually cover Lord Byron, who I'm sure the girls will have plenty of opinions on…"
New Orleans, Louisiana
1864
Niklaus Mikaelson drummed his fingers on the table impatiently, feeling his rage crescendo as the witches fought amongst themselves. He was in the attic of a church, which the infuriating coven used as a meeting place. He glanced out the window to admire the rooftops and spires of his fine city; the blood-orange sun was seeping into the horizon. It was about to be feeding time.
"Ladies, as fun as this argument is, you have about ten seconds to formulate a plan before I start ripping out throats," he threatened languidly.
Eva shot him a nasty look and shocked his brain from across the room.
"We will settle this on our time, seeing as you were the one who asked us for a favor."
Without a word, the Original flashed to a random witch and bit into her neck, drinking deeply. The witches attacked him with their tricks, but he drank through the pain until he could bear no more. The girl stumbled and fell to the ground.
His eyes flashing black and gore dripping down his chin, he glared at Eva. "Find Katerina. I'm done playing games."
On the other side of town, as he stepped into his favorite public room to drown his anger, he caught the barkeep's eye. Guy's gaze purposefully shifted to the corner, where two baby vampires were fighting over a human woman. Klaus sighed. Why can't anyone just behave?
"Mates," he started, coming up behind them and slapping their shoulders aggressively. "Is there a problem here?"
"Mind your own business," one of them snarled.
Klaus smiled horribly. "Ah. I see you don't know whose city you are currently in. New Orleans has certain rules, and the King would be very unhappy if you broke any of them."
"Is that so? I've never heard of a King in New Orleans." The vampire shoved the Original but startled when he realized how strong he was. Confusion clouded his face.
Klaus wrapped his hand around the moron's neck and squeezed, lifting him into the air. His veins and fangs slowly warped his handsome face. The human woman rushed out of the bar in horror.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Klaus, your King."
The vampire choked and Klaus' pupils dilated.
"You will obey my every command and let me know of any threats to myself or my city. You are now my servant. Do you understand?"
The man nodded desperately. Klaus grinned.
"I'm glad we understand each other, friend."
He threw the man to the ground and flashed after the woman. She had made it halfway down the street and was sagging into the wall of an alleyway, trying to calm herself.
"I can see why they were both so desperate to have you, my dear," he told her gently.
Her head snapped up in shock. "What are you?" she asked, her eyes wide with fright.
"A terrible, terrible monster," he soothed, offering his hand.
She scrambled away from him, but stupidly went further down the alley. He stalked her, hungry with anticipation.
"Get away from me!" she screamed.
His eyes locked on hers, and she froze as his pupils dilated.
"There we are," he cooed. "Come on, take my hand."
She took it dazedly and allowed him to escort her out of the alley.
"Even I must obey the city's rules; at least, in appearance. We'll go back to my house and have some real fun," he told her.
She walked beside him down the cobblestone street, the moon high above their heads, her gaze unfocused. "It sounds like a dream."
"Something like that."
The next day, he summoned Eva's coven to the mansion. Eva stood in front of her kin and glared him down.
"So? Have you found my nemesis?" he demanded.
"Katerina Petrova has made witch friends of her own. They protect her from being found by you," she told him coldly.
"That," he snarled and rose to his feet, "was the wrong answer, witch."
He made his way across the room unhurriedly, weaving his way between the women.
"Which of your fellow pathetic excuses for witches shall I drain first? I'll be a gentleman and let you decide," he offered cheerfully.
Eva refused to respond.
"What about this one?" He spotted a girl in the back no older than 17, with enormous brown eyes. She was clearly petrified.
"Now, dear little one, don't be frightened. I'll make it fast. I rarely play with my food." He ran his nose down the girl's neck and inhaled. "So young and fresh."
Just as his fangs slipped out, arms wrapped around his torso and ripped him away from the girl. He blinked in astonishment as a soft voice whispered in his ear: "Hello, husband. Miss me?"
He was too shocked to respond or even move.
"Get out of here. Now!" Caroline yelled at the witches. As soon as the last one stumbled out the door, she telepathically slammed the door shut.
She released her grip on him, but he could hear all the windows and doors shutting and locking in the mansion. Husband and wife stared at each other, reunited at last.
"Caroline…"
Her eyes burned through him as she looked him up and down. "Klaus."
He flinched, but quickly recovered. "This is a most welcome surprise; albeit, your timing was off by a hair."
"But then I'd have missed you terrorizing the neighbors."
"I had it handled," he retorted.
She scoffed and shook her head in disgust. "Masterfully."
"You abandoned me in a city full of witches - witches who can help me track Katerina. What did you expect?"
"Too much, apparently," she muttered in a dry tone that did not disguise her disappointment.
They began circling each other; he was able to fully appreciate her body, which was clothed in a romantic bluish-grey dress with embroidered flowers on the skirt; the softly gathered sleeves left her neckline and shoulders exposed. She was anything but vulnerable, however. She radiated rage and she was radiant because of it.
"You're angry with me. Here I am, gloriously shocked and elated to see my estranged wife after over sixty years of being parted from her, and she's unhappy with me," he mocked. Her anger is not about the witches; there's something else... She came in mad.
"If you were expecting me to fall into your arms, you're even more deranged than the rumors say."
"All these expectations… Very well. Why are you here, Caroline, if not to warm my bed?" he snapped callously.
She folded her arms, and fixing him with a pointed look, said: "Your brother has been teaching at Des Cendres."
Ah. That's why she's here. She knows. "Which one?" he asked to cover his nervousness.
"Don't be coy; you only have one brother left not daggered. Elijah and I have formed a great friendship in the absence of the rest of the family. And he's recently confessed why he left New Orleans in 1835; as you can imagine, he was worried about my reaction. Apparently, it's not only brothers you're stabbing now," she said, her eyes flashing black for a moment.
"Elijah and I are not on speaking terms." He walked to the bar and poured himself a glass of absinthe to keep from staring at his wife. She was so beautiful it hurt.
"Are you on speaking terms with anyone?"
"Actually, I was hoping to get through to those witches, but you just revealed to them I am not quite as all-powerful as I'd have them believe! Do you realize what you've done to my reputation? They can't be compelled to forget that!" he raged, throwing the glass into the fire as he lost his temper.
She flashed in front of him and got in his face without a single perfect curl out of place. "Don't you dare try to make this about you. You're trying to distract me - you know why I am here."
He snorted. "Oh, yes, I'm so good at reading you."
"Klaus," she warned.
He lowered his face to hers and released his fangs.
"Ooh, scary," she said drily. "Do you want me to send an electric shock into your brain?"
He recoiled. "You wouldn't."
"Stop playing games," she leveled.
He relaxed into his normal face. "Caroline. I cannot even put into words how much I have missed you. I have nearly lost all my humanity without you."
She allowed him to stroke her cheek. She laid her hand over his and lost herself in his eyes.
"I'm a mess without you," she confessed.
"Come back. Come back to me, sweetheart."
Caroline closed her eyes as he kissed her neck.
"I am your husband. I belong with you always. Wherever, whenever."
His open-mouthed kisses trailed along her neck to her heaving chest. His tongue dipped between her breasts, tasting her. As her breath hitched, he stroked his fingers down her arms until he clasped her hands. He flashed them against the wall and raised her arms above her head.
"Nik… Please…" she panted, her creamy skin flush from his ministrations.
"Please, what, my love? What do you want me to do?" he whispered into her neck as he nipped and sucked her warm flesh.
"I want," she began breathily, but suddenly her hand was around his throat and her fangs were out. "I want you to tell me where my maker is."
He did not struggle against her grip. "Rebekah is safe."
"As safe as Kol? As safe as Finn?" she hissed at him with black eyes, her veins turning the queer silver and black color unique to her strain.
He couldn't lie to her. "Caroline, she was going to leave me!"
"Would you have done it to me, if you could?"
He let the question linger in the air and she sneered at him in revulsion.
"I'm going to ask you one last time where the coffin is before things get ugly," she hissed out.
He smirked. "Unfortunately, darling, we are equally matched, so let's just pretend we fought and call it an impasse so we can settle down, behave like adults and negotiate."
"I'm not so sure you're my equal," she said lightly, matching his smirk with one of her own.
He arched an eyebrow at her. "Do you really care to test that theory, Caroline?"
Again, the question lingered between them with the sharp sting of a bitter lemon. She closed her eyes and sighed before releasing her grip and taking a seat at the dining room table.
He grabbed the absinthe and two glasses before joining her. As he poured, she glanced around the room.
"It's so different," she observed.
"Yes, funny that. It's almost as if six decades have passed."
"Klaus, we agreed it was for the best."
"Did we? I think you were feeling guilty about Pacari and Rebekah, didn't want to take the time to fix our problems, and ran away," he challenged, handing her a glass. He knew where to hurt her.
"We needed time apart," she argued.
"Yes, time apart to fix ourselves before we fixed our marriage. How's your inward journey faring, love? As you've witnessed, mine's been a tad shaky-"
"I couldn't live with you looking at me like that!"
"Like what?" he insisted.
"With such disgust in your eyes! As if you didn't recognize me!" she yelled.
He placed the crystal topper back on the bottle. "Whatever you thought you saw in my eyes, you were mistaken."
Her lip curled. "Are you going to tell me where Rebekah is?"
"She's in the city," he said lightly.
She twisted the stem of the delicate glass and watched the green liquid swirl around. "I can offer you a deal."
"Excuse me?" He leant forward.
"The witches here will never find her. But I can," Caroline said.
He narrowed his eyes. "How?"
"You're asking the First Carolinian Hybrid how I can track down one irritating vampire? Really?" she teased in genuine amusement.
He saw through her. "Yes. Really."
She sobered. "We crossed paths a few decades ago. It's true I let her go, though I might have stolen a few strands of hair. Just in case."
He was all business now. "What are the parameters? You tell me where Katerina is, and I tell you where I've hidden my sister?"
She placed her glass on the table and leaned across the table. "You take the dagger out and I'll go with you to find Katerina. I'll help you take your revenge."
"I think…me first," he said, falling back into his chair.
"You doubt my word," she accused him.
"Can you blame me?" he shot back.
Caroline sighed and her forehead wrinkled as she considered the deal. "Let me think about it. But I can still take you down in a fight."
"I know you can, but I just don't think you would," he shot back.
"And why is that?"
"Because you love me irrevocably. I've never doubted that, Caroline," he vowed, his eyes blazing with intensity.
Her response was to swallow the absinthe down in one gulp. As she winced, he frowned at her. "And do stop calling me Klaus, love. It is an epithet I created for my enemies and minions, a name for nightmares; it was never meant to be uttered by your lips."
She cleared her throat and fixed him with a searing stare. "I'll call you that until you start acting like my husband again. What the hell are you doing to this city? New Orleans was meant to be a sanctuary for supernatural creatures, and you're acting like a goddamn maniac-"
"You are well within your rights to be mad about Rebekah, but don't you tell me how to run my town! I do what I must," he snapped.
"You'll do anything to find your precious Katerina! You've forsaken your duty as leader to bully every vampire, wolf, and witch who crosses your path. It's ruinous. You are alienating the community here, Klaus. And they will not forget it."
"Katerina and I have unfinished business," he snapped.
She stood up abruptly. "You were going to kill her - what sane person would ever willingly sacrifice themselves for a stranger? She was a frightened young girl who has only ever done what she had to to survive. I let you fixate on her for too long; it's like Kol and I all over again."
"You're taking her side? She was my one chance for freedom!"
"This isn't about sides! Katerina was never out to get you! She's-"
"I never imagined our time apart would do this," he said dully.
Caroline stopped with a sigh. It was no good; he couldn't see past his anger.
"My wife: defending my greatest enemy," he muttered.
"Stop it! I'm not on her side! I just – No. I'm not doing this. I'm not fighting with you over her. Let me simply say, as someone whose life has been defined by revenge for even longer than yours: let it go," she advised, kneeling beside him and taking his hand. "It's not worth it. I used to think it was, but now I know it's not. If Kol woke up tomorrow, we would have a lot to figure out, but I would never seek vengeance against him again," she promised softly.
"About Kol," he rasped, "are we going to continue the discussion we started 64 years ago?"
Her lips tightened. "I told you then, and I'm telling you now, there is nothing more to be said about the subject. Kol and I were never together like that. I really wish you believed me," she finished, sorrow etched into her features.
He did not respond. Instead, he offered to refill her empty glass. She shook her head sadly. As he poured himself another, she gathered her voluptuous skirts and rose to her feet.
"I'll be able to track her down within a few days; the issue is reaching her. The war has made travel extremely difficult, even for vampires. I'm going to bed."
"Caroline?" he asked when she reached the staircase.
"I promise I won't nag you about Katerina anymore," she drawled.
"No, that's not - I was going to ask where you would be sleeping."
She hesitated before glancing up the stairs and exhaling loudly.
"Take our - my room. It's the most comfortable," he said in the silence.
"I'm not kicking you out of your bed," she argued, starting to ascend.
He listened as her skirts rustled against the treads and then were silent. He figured she went up to Rebekah's old room, and took his time savoring his second and then third glass of absinthe. He found he didn't mind her nagging. In fact, he'd rather enjoyed it. It meant she still cared. Their fight had certainly been the most exciting event in his life in ages. Maybe...maybe she'll stay. His heart wanted nothing more, though his pride was still injured. And Kol... There's still Kol.
When he finally stumbled up to the second floor and kicked open the door to their bedroom, he blinked in shock. Caroline was tucked into her side of their bed with her back to him. He flashed to the other side of the room and looked down. Her large blue-green eyes stared back, revealing her vulnerability, solemnity, and unfaded love. He slowly undressed and laid down facing her. Neither of them said anything; instead, they watched each other until the sun rose.
Mystic Falls, Virginia
September 1864
They'd left New Orleans one week later, just the two of them on horseback navigating the minefield that was the war-ravaged American South. Virginia was the most treacherous theater to travel in; as they finally approached their target after months of negotiating, compelling, and bribing, they rented a room in town and decided to wait until the following morning to descend upon the estate. He had laughed when she pointed to their destination on a map.
"It's where we were born," he said, chuckling at the irony.
They had formed an unspoken habit of sleeping next to each other during their months of traveling together. During the tedious days, they shared stories about their time apart and tensions between them began to soften. That night, the night before finally confronting Katerina again, he laid in the bed next to his estranged wife and fought an internal battle with himself. He knew she'd be furious if she ever found out, but there was no need for her to find out, if he was careful enough. He needed to know that night, because if they did indeed find Katerina the following day, they would go back to New Orleans after killing her, un-dagger Rebekah, and Caroline would be out of his life again. He wanted to fix this, and if he had to break a few rules to do that, then so be it.
She was asleep; he could tell by her steady breathing pattern. He took another moment to admire her sleeping form; she looked so peaceful and pure. He wanted to be a good enough man for her, the kind of man who did not do what he was about to do. He would earn her, someday. But it was not this day.
He laid the gentlest of hands on her blond head and concentrated, sifting, searching. Her memories and thoughts were a swirling, confusing mess, but he focused sharply on what he needed to see, pushing back through the centuries and persuading her mind to show him Africa in the 14th century. Finally, he found the right memory.
She had been dozing in and out all afternoon; the warm sun on her skin combined with the humming acoustics of the jungle kept lulling her into slumber, but she could feel his presence, could feel his fixed stare.
"You're back early," she said softly, stretching.
He did not respond. She was still nestled in the pillows, the hammock swaying as she stirred. When she blinked off her drowsiness, a shock ran through her as she deciphered his stare.
His eyes were penetrating; his features were raw and open. He was in agony. The depth of his wordless, yet palpable love for her was staggering and if she weren't already lying down, she would have fallen to her knees. Instead, the breath left her. For the briefest moment, she let herself be carried away in his gaze. She imagined being with him - really being with him. As partners, as lovers, as husband and wife. It would be surprisingly good. But as quickly as she imagined it, it was obfuscated by a creeping shadow; a shadow that had been cast over her heart when she was thirteen. As she finally acknowledged this overwhelming shadow that had only grown more prevalent over the centuries, she realized with a jolt that whatever feelings she secretly harbored for Kol, they would never be enough. They would both have to hurt a little now in order to hurt less in the future. It was the only way.
Kol watched the realization play in real time across her face. He snapped his head away and gazed into the trees.
"Nik," he whispered. It was not a question, but a confirmation.
"It's always been him," she said quietly.
A brutal second passed, and then he was kneeling in front of her. He gently thumbed away tears she did not know had fallen.
"It's alright, Caroline. I'll be fine," he promised. In a gesture that was agonizingly human, he pressed his lips to her forehead, breathed in her sweet scent, and receded. "Be happy, love."
Niklaus pulled his shaking hand away from his wife's form with a gasp. Ashamed of himself, he slipped out of the bed and turned towards the door.
"That was not for you, Niklaus. That's why I kept it hidden. There was never a dark, twisted secret," her accusatory voice pierced the darkness, stopping him. "No sordid affair."
He hung his head and turned to face her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for assuming the worst."
"I get it's your nature. But that was not meant for your eyes," she emphasized, sitting up in the bed. "Some things are too personal."
"Caroline," he started. "I know I should have believed you-"
Her silvery-black veins distorted her wan face as she fought back tears.
"We were healing," she whispered hoarsely. "But you have violated me; insidiously snaking through my private thoughts."
He took a hesitant step towards the bed. "I did that," he admitted. "But now we can move past all this business with Kol and," he tried pleadingly.
Her fangs popped out.
"Get out," she hissed.
He walked backwards out of the room with tears in his eyes and paused for just a moment to whisper something before flashing away.
"She's inside St. Louis Cathedral. The tomb is marked as R. Pacari."
The following morning, Caroline was gone. He had to go to the estate without her, and by then, Katerina had slipped through his fingers once again. If he was being honest with himself, he had let her escape. When he returned to New Orleans, Caroline had already found Rebekah's body and presumably taken her dagger out, because neither of the two most important people in his life was anywhere in the city. As he embarked on a vicious killing spree, only one thought played across his mind.
I'm truly alone.
Northeast Iceland
1873
She understood Caroline's need for complete self-isolation now. The log cabin she was inhabiting was small and plain, but it held everything she needed, its most important amenity being that it was in the middle of nowhere.
She spent every night observing the Milky Way. Although she had traveled and lived on her own before, this time felt different. She wasn't searching for beautiful places or discovering new people or finding herself. This time, she knew what was on the other side and it was ugly. It was much easier to stay here, among the stars and the glaciers and the snow and fresh air. Vikings had settled this land centuries ago, so in a way, she felt quite at home. When she did see the rare neighbor, they understood she was not to be trifled with.
One night, while looking up at the indescribable beauty of the Aurora Borealis, she couldn't help remembering the last time she had seen a member of her family.
Rebekah opened her eyes and saw the vast night sky twinkling down at her as if in mockery. Her entire body was stiff, dry. She wondered with dread how long it had been.
"Here's a cup for now, but I have a few donors below deck as soon as you have enough strength to feed on your own," Caroline said from beside her, handing her a cup of blood. She accepted and drank deeply. The effect the liquid had on her joints and muscles was immediate and soothing. She managed to sit up slightly and glance around. They were on a small fishing boat, presumably in the Gulf of Mexico.
Rebekah glanced at her progeny; Caroline was worrying her bottom lip with an apprehensive expression.
"You took the dagger out," she assumed.
Caroline nodded.
"How long?"
Her progeny took a deep breath. "It's 1864."
Rebekah's nails dug into her thighs, but she held her temper. "So, just under thirty years. You smuggled me out of the city?"
Caroline grimaced. "More or less."
"Who told you I was daggered?" the Original demanded.
"Your brother," Caroline said lightly.
Rebekah gave her an assessing look, before her expression cleared. "Elijah."
"Yes. After Klaus daggered you, he left the city and came to Des Cendres to teach. Unfortunately, he failed to tell me what Klaus had done to you until last year."
Rebekah scoffed. "Coward. He was scared of Nik."
"Well, I think he was also afraid of what I would do."
"And what did you do?"
"Let's just say, my husband and I are not going to be speaking again for quite some time. Fighting, mind-probing - he's still obsessed with-"
Rebekah held a hand up and shook her head. "I know all about his many obsessions, and I don't care. I don't want to hear anything about my brothers."
Caroline paused before placing a gentle hand on her sire's arm. "I know I'm not your favorite person, but I needed to make sure you got to safety. And there's a lot going on in the country right now; I wanted you to be prepared for it when we dock."
"And where will we dock?"
"Wherever you want, honestly. As soon you do, I'll be out of your hair. You won't have to see me again."
"Caroline, please. I may not be ready to forgive you but stop torturing yourself. We've all done stupid things."
"Meaning… You want company?"
"I don't think so; I need some time to myself."
"I understand."
"Probably better than most. Where will you go?"
"Elijah's waiting for me in Cuba. I do need a travel companion these days. It's good distraction. You?"
"Somewhere far from here," Rebekah mumbled. "Thirty years, Care. I keep asking myself, "How could he?""
"Why did he?"
"He was jealous; I had fallen in love. He didn't want me happy when he was not. And he was afraid I'd leave him. Then things got ugly, and I told him I'd rather spend an eternity with you and your deceptions and plots than another second with him and his maltreatment and jealousy. It did not go over so well."
"I can imagine. I'm sorry; it seems like it was my fault."
"Oh, no, Caroline. Didn't I just tell you to stop torturing yourself?"
Rebekah blinked away the memory until it faded into the recesses of her muddled brain. She glared up at the stars. Maybe she would make the trek into town in a few days and hunt down a telescope; really invest in studying the skies. It wasn't like she had anything else to do.
West Texas
1890
Deep within the arid canyon, Mariko watched the tumbleweeds drag listlessly across the parched landscape, prompting her to nudge her horse to a canter. If she were visiting anyone other than an Original, she would wonder why someone would desire to be in such a forsaken place. She supposed there was some beauty in its vast emptiness, with its bold saturation of bronzes, blues, and browns, sparsely spotted with the occasional emerald of a lonely cactus. As it was an Original she was here to see, she knew it was the perfect environment to hide from Mikael. Elijah had chosen well.
The directions in his letter had been vague, but she did not need them. She was attuned to all members of the Mikaelson family by this point; she could find any of them easily with a simple locating spell. Although the sun had only been up for a little over an hour, the heat was already oppressive. As she guided her horse through the canyon, her eyes darted around for any hint of water. She could survive without water, but her horse could not, and she did not possess super-speed. Getting stranded in the desert for the unforeseeable future was not currently on her to-do list.
Two hours later, she reached the end of the canyon and took in the admittedly impressive panorama. Squinting through a mirage that idled over the plain, the witch spotted several buildings nestled into the foot of a rocky plateau. She could feel Elijah's aura. Her horse whinnied loudly, and she rubbed its neck to soothe it. A moment later, they were galloping towards the plateau, both impatient to get to water and civilization. A few miles out from their destination, she realized they were about to be surrounded by hundreds of beef cattle. She slowed the horse's pace to not startle them, and the groaning cows ambled past.
"Riko?"
From atop a horse less than twenty yards away, Elijah gazed at her with a joyous smile. He looked…like a cowboy.
"Elijah, I have to give you credit, you've really chosen an excellent hiding spot here," she teased him over the loud mooing.
He grinned back and gestured towards the buildings. "Come on, let's head in. Hey, Jake!" he yelled to a ranch-hand a few paces away. "I'm going back; keep your eyes open for snakes!"
It was unclear whether Jake glanced over Mariko in bewilderment due to her startling appearance or her unexpected presence, but he tipped his hat politely. "Ma'am. You got it, Mr. Owens."
As they rode side-by-side away from the cattle, she took in his ensemble, complete with spurs, whip, shotgun, and, most importantly, Stetson hat. It was all very authentic.
"You look good, Elijah. Happy."
With his eyes focused on the house, he urged the horse forward. "I am happy."
"Good," she told him firmly and they shared a smile.
He cleared his throat. "How is the family?"
She snorted. "What family? Rebekah is off the map, Kol is daggered, Caroline is somewhere in Europe, last I heard from Pacari, he was in Africa, and Niklaus rules New Orleans with a sadistic iron fist. Without Caroline, his quest for vengeance against Katerina is unhinging him."
Elijah grimaced. "I hate what he has become, but I cannot keep babysitting him, or any of them, for that matter."
"I understand. Your letter had a bit of an urgent tone to it; I didn't exactly expect to find you happily herding cattle," she said in a questioning tone.
He shook his head. "The urgency is time. For the past six years, I have been with an incredible woman. We're married, actually. She had two sons with her previous husband that I've been raising as my own."
"That's wonderful news, Elijah. I'm happy for you," she congratulated him as they reached the barn.
They both dismounted and hugged each other.
"Grace is the strongest woman I know. After her late husband died in a railroad accident, she was raising her boys, teaching at the local church, working for a tailor, and keeping the bigoted townspeople at bay. I made my way into her heart slowly and then bought this ranch for her and the boys as a wedding present. Caleb is now ten and Ephraim, eight," Elijah explained, and Mariko could see his love for them shining in his eyes.
The witch led her horse to the watering trough while Elijah led his to a stall.
"Congratulations again, 'Lijah. But that doesn't explain why you summoned me here. Do you want a protection spell?" she prodded.
"I'm fairly confident Mikael will not find me out here. I've been vigilant about keeping a low profile. I hardly ever go into town, I hunt rarely and only in the dead of night, and I have changed my surname. All documents I sign, I sign as E. Owens," he told her as he closed the door. "I asked you to come because I want you to cast a spell on me; one that binds me to Grace."
Mariko turned from her horse and faced him fully. He wore a determined expression, as if expecting her to argue with him. She frowned in confusion.
"I still don't understand. Binds you how?"
"Binds my life to hers. More specifically, I want you to make me age with her," he said.
"My friend, you are immortal. I cannot-"
"I know I cannot die. But if you could make me appear to age with her," he continued emphatically.
She paused. "You're asking for a glamour."
"I am. I want to grow old with her," he told her in a soft voice.
There was a long silence. Mariko turned towards the open barn door and observed the cattle grazing on the plain. Elijah took her horse's reins and led it into a stall. Finally, she faced the vampire.
"It will break as soon as she dies," she informed him.
"I understand," he nodded.
"You certainly won't feel old, so you'll have to fake it," she warned.
"I'm a fairly decent actor."
Mariko paused again. She looked Elijah up and down.
"How old is Grace?"
"Thirty."
"And you're pretending to be the same age?"
"Yes; as you can imagine, I can stretch this out for only so much longer before people start getting suspicious," he said.
She smiled at him. "Suspicious about what?"
He frowned at her as she walked out of the barn and made for the house.
"I'll stay for supper and meet your family. Maybe I'll even stick around a few days and you can show me a thing or two about being a cowboy," she teased while knocking on a side door of the house. "Maybe longer - I'm not overly eager to face the desert again."
The door swung open to reveal a strikingly beautiful woman with dark brown skin. She wore a colorful headwrap and a frown as she appraised the violet-eyed witch.
"Mrs. Owens? Hello, I'm Ma-ria. Miss Maria Major. I'm a family friend of Elijah's."
Grace's brown eyes met Elijah's from the doorway.
He nodded in encouragement. "We've known each other for a very long time."
Grace's wary frown turned into a welcoming smile as she let Mariko into the house without batting an eyelash.
"Welcome, Maria. Ever since his sister-in-law Caroline left, I've wondered if my husband knew anyone else on this planet," she said warmly, her curiosity obvious. "And call me Grace, please."
As soon as the door shut behind them, Elijah pivoted and rummaged around his desk impatiently until he found what he was looking for. When he held the small mirror up to his face, he gasped. Crinkled around his eyes were subtle lines that had most assuredly not been there that morning. He grinned widely into the mirror and then chuckled in delight as he admired his new laugh lines. Riko d'Ebanne is a wonder.