A/N: Once again, THANK YOU SO. SO. MUCH for the incredible response to this story! :) Really, it's gone beyond all my initial expectations for this story and it's inspiring me to keep going. So, since I asked you guys to drop me a note and let me know if you wanted quicker updates and you guys have delivered on your end, here it is. Not as fast as the last one, but I think a little over a week is still pretty good timing! Thank you so much, guys! And, again, I'm easy like Sunday morning when it comes to bribes.
As always, have to thank coveredinthecolors for her awesome beta services, which have included name-calling Elijah and starting a Klaus supporting group. She also helped me beat this into shape and make it an all-around better read! ❤ If you haven't already, I strongly recommend that you check out her stuff. It's truly, truly amazing.
You'll probably still find several mistakes there, and they're all my own. English is not my first language, so I apologize beforehand.
Also, episode 10 of The Originals starts with one my favorite songs from the show's soundtrack and I've been listening to it nonstop since I wrote this chapter. So if you guys would like some MOOD, the song is called Dark Doo Wop, by Ms Mr.
For centuries, people have come to New Orleans looking for a fresh start, hoping to find fortune, adventure, even love. Back in the really old days, young society women were imported from France with the promise of marrying a proper gentleman.
That's how the legend of the casket girls began. Women brought in carriages, expecting to meet the love of their lives, found themselves surrounded by savages. The men in New Orleans, as it turns out, were far from proper, and not at all gentle.
The poor three girls that started the tale would've met their fates on a dirt road before even making it into the city — if someone hadn't come to their rescue. A woman, recently awakened from a deep slumber, rising from her casket to free the foreign women.
That's the story Rebekah told Caroline, anyway, when she asked about all the fuss outside. "It's not Mardi Gras, is it?"
"Oh, darling. It's something much better."
The story took root, became part of the town's folklore, and it lives on 'till this day, now celebrated in typical New Orleans fashion, in stylish costumes and supernatural flair. It's a yearly reminder of how women can be oppressed by selfish men and how they can triumph when they are brave enough to fight for themselves.
It's a nice thought, but the skeptic in Caroline thinks all those drunkards flocking around the streets hardly remember what they're really partying about. She wonders how they'd feel if they knew the original casket girl herself still walks among them.
Rebekah has been searching the whole house after a dress to wear for the celebration, going through her trunks filled with clothes that are probably as old as the legend itself. With nothing better to do, Caroline offered to help. Just watching all the commotion outside all day from her balcony was kind of dampening the little good mood she still had in her after Klaus' magnanimous decision to invite his siblings to move in with them. What she wouldn't give to have a margarita with one of those casket girls dancing under her window right now...
She's supposed to take the dresses down to Rebekah, but she couldn't resist trying on one of them. How is it possible for one person to have so many dresses, all so similar? Caroline used to think she was a fashion whore, but Rebekah beats her, easily.
She should've realized it wouldn't fit, though. Five and a half months pregnant and she's finally at that stage where she can't just suck in a breath and act like she just had a bit too much to eat for lunch. It's a matter of weeks now before she can no longer delay a trip to the nearest mall.
"Can I offer you some assistance?"
Caroline turns, finding Elijah standing by the door, an amused grin on his face.
She hesitates, unsure of what to say, but he takes her silence for affirmation and approaches, positioning himself right behind her. Caroline exchanges a look with him through the mirror, smiling awkwardly. "You might need to use all your vampire strength to zip me up."
Elijah smiles, putting a hand on her shoulder while the other hovers above the small of her back, where the zipper is stuck. "Allow me."
Caroline swallows as he pulls the zipper up, rather easily, actually. Her body goes all stiff as she feels his hands ghosting over her skin.
The few months she's spent in New Orleans so far have felt like an entire lifetime, and have been nothing short of hardships. She's faced everything — attacks, betrayal, near-death experiences, unexpected alliances... And Elijah was there for most of it, a strong, unrelenting presence she's leaned on for support on more than a few occasions. Her initial suspicions about the oldest Original's character as a whole were completely dispelled as they got closer. Elena's assessment of him was not wrong; Elijah truly is the noblest of the Mikaelson bunch.
Caroline has come to think of him as a true friend, and she'd trust her life — and that of her child — to him. But if she claims not to have noticed the way Elijah looks at her sometimes... Well.
There's something very wistful about it, which makes her think that his interest might have more to do with the idea she currently represents than with anything else. Caroline is carrying the first Mikaelson baby in a millennium, and Elijah is holding on to it with everything he's got. Like with Rebekah, there's something of a romantic within Elijah. Not in the sense that he wants a fairy tale wedding and a beautiful family in a house with white picket fences. Romantic in the sense that he still waits for a happy ending, for a magic fix to a thousand years of wrongdoings. Romantic in the sense that Elijah refuses to lose hope.
Caroline admires that about him. She used to be that person, back in Mystic Falls. The hopelessly optimistic one, always choosing to see a glass half full even if what filled the glass was blood. Lately... Not so much. She tries her best, mostly because of the baby — what's the point of bringing a child into this world if you're not at least a little bit hopeful? But New Orleans has graciously showed her a side of the supernatural world that's even darker than what she'd seen back home. It's just... Bigger. More vicious. And it makes her scared. For herself, for her baby, for the future. That's when she looks to Elijah for inspiration. If he can keep his hopes up after living through a thousand years of murder and deception, then so can she.
Which is why she's afraid to touch her finger on the raw and just be straightforward with him. She hasn't encouraged him, she thinks. Not wittingly, anyway. But he should know exactly where they stand here. He's a good friend, a great one, even, and she cares for him very deeply. But if he's expecting this to turn into something more, than... Maybe he shouldn't hold his breath.
The last thing Caroline wants here is to start another Gilbert-Salvatore incident. She never made a secret of her criticism of Elena, stringing Damon along while she was with Stefan, and then doing the same thing to Stefan once she started having feelings for Damon, pitting brother against brother in a relationship that was already strained to begin with. Not that Elena should've ever gone for Damon, mind you, but that's a different thing altogether. Caroline's pretty certain Elena would say the same thing about her going for Klaus, and, well. She can't exactly say her friend wouldn't have a point.
It does not change her feelings, though. Or the fact she's got a five months bun in the oven with Klaus' favorable, magical genetics all over it. It seems, when it comes to the middle Mikaelson, she's just as much of a romantic as Elijah.
"Thanks," she says. "Don't tell Rebekah I wore her dress. She's gonna nag me about stretching the delicate fabric. I'm supposed to be helping her find the perfect outfit for the Casket Girls night, but I couldn't resist trying it on. Not too many pregnant casket girls, I guess." she sighs, resting a hand on top of the visible bump on her stomach. It really is straining the silk. "I'm getting at that stage where I don't fit anything anymore."
"I think you look lovely."
Both she and Elijah snap around, the oldest Original taking a deliberate step back as they spot Klaus by the door, a familiar smirk on his lips that does not meet the dark glint in his eyes.
"Oh," Caroline says, more than a little flustered. "Uhm. Thank you. All knocked up here and with nowhere to go." She lets out a little mirthless laugh, turning back to the mirror in order to avoid the tension in the room.
"Why didn't you say you wanted to attend the festivities tonight?" Elijah asks. "I would be more than willing to take you."
"Nonsense," Klaus cuts in, joining the two of them by the mirror. Caroline looks at her own reflection, with one Mikaelson brother on each side, and swallows down hard. "I have just been crowned the king of New Orleans. You'd be perfectly safe with me as your chaperone. Not to mention — it would be a good way for the folks of this town to know you're under my protection."
"It's a festival, Niklaus. Do you honestly think it's appropriate to turn it into a show of strength?"
"Everything is a show of strength, Elijah. Or have you learned absolutely nothing yet, brother?"
"I've learned that whenever your shows of strength get involved, tragedy follows close behind, and I wouldn't want anything bad to happen on such a joyous evening, with so many tourists in town. Especially with the mother of your child in attendance."
Klaus takes a step forward, his eyes flashing. "Are you implying that I don't care enough about the well-being of the mother of my child, brother?"
"What I'm implying, brother, is that, as always, your carelessness might cost you dearly."
"All right!" Caroline cuts in with a loud clap of her hands, attracting both sets of eyes back to her. "I think we're all getting a little carried away here. Nobody has to imply anything because the baby mamma here does not want to attend the festival, so it's all cool." She smiles, looking from one to the other. "Ok? No need to rock the boat."
"Forgive us if our quarreling has made you change your mind, Caroline," Elijah says, looking genuinely guilty.
"Don't give up on your plans on Elijah's account, love," Klaus adds, flashing his dimples with a cheeky grin.
"This doesn't exactly scream party," she says, pointing down to her stomach. "I'd rather just stay in and chill. By myself. With a book. In my room, perfectly safe. But thank you, though. I appreciate the sentiment. I think. From both of you." Elijah and Klaus exchange a glare. "I'm gonna go get out of this and take it to Rebekah. I'll... See you guys around."
Caroline turns on her heels and scurries out of the room as fast as possible, only stopping once she's back in her bedroom, with the door closed behind her. She shuts her eyes for a second, letting out a deep sigh.
Elijah, Klaus, and herself, living together in the French Quarter.
This is gonna be an adventure.
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Caroline retires into the safety of her bedroom for the next hour, just to avoid any uncomfortable encounters. When she finally reemerges, it's like the house has gone up in flames.
She nearly bumps into a vampire she's never seen before, the man so determined he doesn't even stop or steers off her path as she's stepping out into the second floor balcony. "Excuse you," she grumbles. If he wasn't a vampire, she'd say he didn't even hear her.
And he's not the only one. Apparently, all vampires in New Orleans with a daylight ring have suddenly flocked over to the Mikaelson compound, all looking stern and in a hurry.
Caroline finds Rebekah still going through some of the trunks she brought over from the plantation near the courtyard.
"Oh, there you are," the youngest Original says. "I thought you'd run off with my dress. How did it look?"
"I wasn't trying it on." Rebekah gives her a look, arching one perfectly plucked eyebrow her way. Caroline rolls her eyes. "Very pregnant," she relents. "But I'm not going to the festival anyway, so if you want to wear it, it'll look much better on you."
She puts the dress back in one of the trunks, next to dozens of other equally beautiful and antique pieces. Rebekah could just close her eyes and pick whatever and Caroline's certain she'd have a wonderful outfit, perfectly suitable to a dead and angry princess, out to eat the hearts of men during the Casket Girls parade.
"Why aren't you going?" Rebekah asks. "I'd be glad to go with you, if you want."
Caroline smiles wanly. "Thank you, but I think I'm gonna sit this one out. I'm all for helping you get ready if you want, though."
"Is this about Nik? Because I'll have you know that I really don't care about my brother's butthurt feelings."
"It's not his butthurt feelings I'm worried about." There's a lot of movement on the second floor all of a sudden, as Marcel, Elijah and Klaus step out of a room, followed close behind by a group of what Caroline identifies as Marcel's closest allies. All talking hurriedly and gesticulating and apparently flinching at Klaus' snarls. "What is going on here? Did I miss the memo where we're starting World War Three?"
"You haven't heard? The little witch is missing."
Her face snaps back to Rebekah. "What? Davina is missing?"
"Walked right out the front door, apparently."
Well, that explains it, then. Klaus had Marcel moved the girl from the church into the compound just yesterday. And by the looks of it, she was not very happy about the new alliance forged between her protector and the new evil overlord in town. Curious as she was, Caroline stopped by her room while she was getting settled, just wanting to take a peek at this legendary mythical being that's made her life impossibly difficult for the past few months.
She was surprised by how young Davina looks. She knew she was supposed to be sixteen, but she seems even younger. It broke Caroline's heart a little bit, made her feel incredibly sympathetic. She knows very well what it's like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders before you're even equipped to deal with the pressure. But at 16, she had her mother and her friends to help her through it. Davina had nobody but Marcel, an old vampire with a dodgy history at best. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it must've been like for her to be confined to an attic for months, afraid that at any minute a witch would come in and stick a knife into her throat to finish the Harvest. And then, later, that an Original would come in and snatch her away, force her to work for them in a war where, at this point, it's hard to even know who the good guys really are, if there's even a right side at all.
But when Davina finally spotted her spying by the door and their gazes met, Caroline felt a cold shudder up her spine. There was a hardness way beyond her years in that girl's eyes.
"What?" Davina asked with a snap in her voice.
Caroline stepped into the room. "Heard you were moving in."
Davina regarded her for a moment, her eyes dropping to Caroline's baby bump before moving up again. "You're Klaus' wife."
She snorted loudly. "No. I'm no one's wife. And I have a name, by the way. It's Caroline. And you're Davina."
"So?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to say hi."
"Right. What is it that you want?"
Caroline frowned. "Why would I want anything from you?"
"Because everyone else does."
"I'm a witch, Davina. Whatever I want, I can get myself."
The girl seemed to consider her words for a moment before dismissing whatever passed through her mind and going back to rummaging through a box after something.
"What are you looking for?" Caroline asked.
"My violin. I must've left it at the church."
"Why don't you go get it?"
"I can't. It's not safe for me out there."
Caroline folds her arms across her chest. "Funny. I had the impression that everyone was afraid of you."
"The witches are after me, just waiting for an opportunity to ambush me."
"You mean Agnes?" Davina stopped, finally looking back at Caroline. "Yeah, I had a couple bad experiences with her too. But she's dead now."
Davina rushed to her feet, her face morphing into one of sheer shock. "Agnes is dead?"
"Yeah. You didn't hear about it? Klaus and Elijah killed her."
"But... She was the last living elder of our coven. If she's gone, that means I'm safe. They can't perform the ritual anymore." She paused then, her eyes filling with sadness. Suddenly, she looked even younger. "Marcel would've told me."
Caroline shrugged. "Maybe he didn't want to let you go."
"Caroline."
Caroline blinks out of her thoughts, her eyes focusing back on Rebekah, who's watching her closely. "What?"
"You zoned out just there."
"Yeah. Well." She turns away, pretending to fix the dresses inside the trunk. "I'm not surprised she managed to walk out right under their noses. Klaus' sentinels are big but brainless and definitely not very good at dealing with witches."
"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"No," she says, not missing a beat. Rebekah gives her a prodding look, and Caroline sighs. "I had a little conversation with her yesterday. I may have told her that... the witch elders were all dead."
"Why would she care? The witches tried to kill her in their ritual."
"That's the thing. If the elders are gone, there is no ritual. And Marcel failed to provide her with that bit of crucial information. Agnes was the one thing preventing her from being free."
"Oh," Rebekah says. "So you're the reason she's run off."
"I was just being honest," Caroline protests defensively. "I didn't know it was a secret or that Marcel had lied to her about it. She's the one who made the connections and realized that she was being used." She stops, looking up at where Klaus, Marcel and Elijah are still talking, overlooking the movement on the courtyard. "Klaus is going to kill me when he finds out, isn't he?"
"Oh, rest assured Nik will be furious. But he won't kill you, don't worry. Besides, he doesn't have to know."
She looks back at Rebekah. "You're not telling him?"
"Why would I? I've never been a fan of the boys' club. Just wait. Elijah will join them full time and the three of them will be impossible. That girl was used by the witches, lied to by Marcel, manipulated by Elijah, threatened by Nik... She's a modern day casket girl. I'm glad she got to walk out."
Caroline narrows her eyes at the vampire, thoughtfully. "Are we still talking about Davina?"
Rebekah shrugs. "Does it matter? Either way," she says, smiling. "Us girls have got to stick together."
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"So, do you know when you'll be able to come home yet?"
Caroline pauses, watching from her balcony as the street gets more and more crowded before the Casket Girls festival tonight. Her gaze slides down to her swollen belly. Not too long ago Caroline used to tell herself that everything would be made right with the world just as soon as the baby was born. Like going into labor would spark a magic that would fix all her problems. She would be able to go home, get her life back, continue on with her plans. Now, though, she realizes that was all wishful thinking.
She's less than four months away from childbirth and things have never been more complicated. Caroline has absolutely no idea what's going to happen. The only thing she's certain of is that she does not know when she'll ever be able to go home.
"No, not yet," she tells her mom. "Things here are very... intense."
"You need a break, honey. You've been working yourself into the ground from what you tell me. I know Stanford was your dream, but..." Caroline shuts her eyes against the tightness in her chest. Her mother keeps saying that every single time they speak on the phone. Stanford was your dream. It was never her dream. She doesn't think she's ever even mentioned Stanford as a possibility. Rebekah must've used those exact words when she compelled the whole town.
Maybe she should name the baby Stanford.
It's for the best, Caroline tells herself. Her mom would probably have ended up dead by now, or at least severely injured, if she'd been in New Orleans. And she would be, for certain, if she knew about the pregnancy and Klaus. She'd never leave Caroline alone with the Original family. As painful as lying to her mom may be, it's a small mercy.
"I'll be fine, mom, I promise. Don't worry about me. When I do get to go home... It'll be great. You'll be very proud of me."
"I'm always proud of you." Caroline hears the smile on her mom's voice, imagines her beautiful face lighting up as she says it. "I have to go now, honey, there's some people here at the station to see me."
"Alright, sheriff. Get to work. I'll talk to you soon."
"Take care, honey. I love you."
"Love you too, mom."
Getting off the phone with her mother is always tough. Sometimes she wonders if it wouldn't be better to cut ties completely. Caroline's always been a terrible liar, and she hates having to come up with new excuses every time they talk, or mentioning things about made up people and professors whose name she's only ever read online. She spent an entire week doing research on everything about Stanford and Northern California, just to have more depth to her lies. She's diligent like that. Liz has heard everything about Caroline's roommate, Renata, who's a bitch with a good heart; her best friend Elliot, who's uptight and a bit of a snob, but so sweet and understanding; and this dude Nicholas, who drives her crazy. "Are you dating this boy, Caroline?" her mom asked.
"What? No! Did you not just hear me say he's a manipulative jerk?"
"Yes, but you've always had a thing for the bad boys and it sounds a lot like there's a spark there. Maybe that's exactly why you keep fighting so much. Maybe you should go out with him, just to see what happens."
Honestly, Liz Forbes sometimes...
Hanging up the phone feels a bit like letting go, like she's constantly making a choice between her life now - New Orleans, Mikaelsons, babies - and the part that came before - high school, lifelong friends, her mother. As difficult and dangerous as things were before, it seems impossibly simpler compared to now.
Her phone rings again and Caroline smiles. Liz will often do that; she hangs up and then calls back immediately because she forgot to mention that Elena has sent her love, or to tell her that she's found an old coat Caroline used liked so much, and wouldn't she want Liz to send it to her.
"Mom, you have work," she says as she takes the call without even looking.
"Sorry. Not mom."
Caroline frowns, pulling the phone away. It's Sophie Deveraux. Her mood instantly goes from nostalgic to irate.
"What do you want?" she bites out waspishly.
"I know you don't trust me, but I need you to listen, ok? Everything's about to change. Davina's on the loose."
Caroline feels a pang at that. It's at least a little bit her fault that the girl left the compound without telling anyone and, even though Agnes is dead, clearly the witches are still interested. If anything, then at least to get revenge. But Davina is stronger than all of them, and more motivated as well. She can take care of herself.
"News travel fast," she says, curtly. "Remind me again why I should care?"
"I need something from you so that the witches can complete the Harvest."
She lets out a bark of a laugh in utter disbelief. "What? You want my help to kill Davina?"
"Davina won't stay dead, and neither will the other girls."
"What makes you think I would ever help you, Sophie? Especially with something that will make you more powerful. All you people have done since I got in this town is hex me left and right."
"You'll help me because I can help you with something in return."
"I don't need your help, Sophie, I need you to stay away from me."
"The wolves in the Bayou," the witch says hurriedly, perhaps sensing Caroline was about to hang up. It piques her interest. "The ones who saved your life. I know you've been back there, that you've shown an interest in finding out what happened to them. You know they were cursed on Marcel's orders years ago."
"So?"
"So I can undo the curse."
"Have you forgotten that you're talking to a witch? Anything you can do, I can do myself."
"Not this, you can't. The curse was placed by my bloodline, Caroline. It was our power that put them in wolf form, and it's only our power that can undo it. It's directly connected to us. And if our access to magic fades for good, they'll be forever trapped in wolf form."
Caroline's lip curls into a scowl. She's bluffing. She has to be. But then again — she knows that kind of magic. It's not uncommon for a witch to attach her own blood to a spell or a curse in an attempt to make it harder to break — and to guarantee they won't be wiped out in revenge. The wolves could've just attacked whoever placed the curse on them, but then they'd be ending the only way to ever undo it. Clever, but not faultless. "There's always a loophole. I can find it."
"Maybe. But how long do you think it'll take? Help me, and I'll undo the curse for you."
"I'm not going to help you kill Davina."
"I'm not asking you to. I need to consecrate the remains of a powerful witch so I can absorb their magic and become an elder myself, that way I can perform the ritual. And I know of one whose remains were never found. Her name was Celeste Dubois. And I believe she and you have a friend in common."
Caroline curses under her breath. "Elijah." Of course it would have something to do with the Mikaelsons, or Sophie would never ask her help. She's only doing it because she knows that, whatever happens, they won't turn on her. And using the wolves Caroline has been trying to figure out a way to help as blackmail... It's a low blow.
"Story goes that when she died he buried her in a secret spot at her request," Sophie continues. "All I need you to do is find out where."
"How the hell am I supposed to do that? Oh, hey, Elijah, remember that woman you loved with all your heart who got viciously murdered 200 years ago? You wouldn't happen to remember where you buried her, would you?"
"I don't know. But I'm sure you'll think of something."
Just when she thought she was finally rid of those witches for good... Fucking hell.
The worst part is... Caroline knows exactly where to find the information Sophie needs.
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"Well, isn't this monumentally awkward," Elijah says as Marcel finally returns to his senses. Davina did not go light on him. On any of them, for that matter. His ruined clothes, covered in blood, are proof of the girl's ruthlessness. Then again, Niklaus did provoke the worst of her ire so, in a sense, they deserved exactly what they got.
His brother used her little musician boyfriend, Timothy, to lure her into the compound. The theatrics of putting the boy up on a beam from which he'd never be able to climb down on his own, playing his violin, was taking it a bit too far in Elijah's opinion. All they wanted was to find the witch, there was no need to make her angry. But angry she was.
She bent Niklaus with a flick of her wrist, reducing him to a mass of broken bones as she forced his werewolf transformation before snapping his neck. Then she moved on to Elijah, whom she called a manipulative murderer before drowning him in his own blood.
Elijah would very much like to see what happened with Marcellus, but when he came to, the other vampire was dead on the ground with a stake hole in his chest. She missed his heart, which was a mercy, he assumes. There was no sign of Timothy or Davina.
Three ancient vampires, two of them Originals, one of them a hybrid, all bested by a sixteen year-old witch. That's not something you see every day.
If Elijah hadn't previously anticipated something of the sort to happening, he'd be sincerely ashamed.
Niklaus, on the other hand, would normally be furious out of his mind. Instead, he is... Almost calm, Elijah would say. It should be odd, but it was also expected. His brother is so predictable...
"Rebekah, where are you?" Klaus says on the phone while Elijah offers a hand to help Marcel up. They may have all the differences in the world, but the two of them at least agree when it comes to putting limits to his brother's machinations.
"I'm with Davina and she is dying because of your treachery," his sister snarls on the other end.
"Well, I tried to talk to her out of respect for Marcel, but she made it quite clear she is not our friend. My apologies if you thought she was yours."
"Just tell me how to cure her," Rebekah says, urgently. "Vampire blood isn't working."
"No, it wouldn't." Niklaus smirks, rather proud of his little evil plan. "You see the poison I compelled Timothy to feed her in case things got out of hand around here is quite potent."
Elijah senses as Marcel bristles next to him, starting at Klaus. He puts a hand on the younger man's shoulder and holds him back. Davina may be stronger than the three of them together, but Niklaus is certainly stronger than the two others.
"It's just a matter of time for her," Klaus smirks, looking directly at Marcel.
"For both of them, you diabolical bastard. They're children!" Rebekah barks. "We could've dealt with them fairly."
"There is no dealing with those who threaten us. Davina sealed her fate when she stood against me. This was her choice, not mine."
He hangs up the phone, and starts laughing. Sometimes Elijah swears Niklaus just begs to get his face punched.
"Oh, come on. The stench of your judgement is overwhelming. Need I remind you that Davina just bested the three of us? I did what had to be done," he says with a nonchalant shrug. As though murdering two children is just another Wednesday for him. "Don't worry, Elijah," his brother continues, smiling. "I remain as redeemable as ever."
"What is going on here?"
The three of them turn to find Caroline, followed closely by the two sentinels Niklaus sent with her back to the plantation house. She said she wanted to grab some things she'd left behind when she moved in a hurry, and it seemed like a good way to keep her away from the action taking place at the French Quarter this evening.
Her timing to leave was perfect, and so was her timing to return.
She approaches them with tentative steps, looking from the giant pool of blood on the floor where Elijah had been lying a second before, to his appalling state, then to Marcel and his obvious wound, and then finally at Niklaus, who, despite having suffered immeasurable pain, has recovered just fine.
"We're just having a little gathering, love," his brother says. "Nothing to worry about."
"A little gathering? Elijah, what...?" she trails off, motioning towards him.
"A minor inconvenience. I'm fine," he replies.
"You were talking about Davina. I heard you. What happened? What did you do?"
Before his brother can open his mouth to come up with an excuse that will make him look less vile, Elijah cuts in. "He compelled Davina's boyfriend, Timothy, to poison himself and her, without consulting Marcel or myself."
"You what?" Caroline snaps, her eyes fixing on Niklaus in sheer disbelief.
"You know what the worst part is?" Marcel says. "Is that you are so predictable, Klaus, that I had to make an alliance with your brother, who I don't even like."
Suddenly, the arrogant expression on Klaus' face changes, morphs into one of distaste. If there's one thing his brother cannot tolerate is to be outsmarted.
"Judging by your expression, you have something you'd like to share," he tells Marcel.
"Damn straight I do. I got a call from father Kieran earlier. Right after Sabine and some other witches almost got their hands on Davina first. She kicked their asses pretty hard, even killed some of them, so Sabine wasn't in a position to negotiate. We stroke a deal pretty quick. She put a protection spell on Davina."
Klaus' upper lip curls. "So when you slipped away to allegedly check on your nightwalkers, you were, in fact, colluding with a witch."
"Oh my God, stop saying that!" Caroline cuts in. "You have no problem colluding with witches when it suits you."
"The witches I collude with, last time I checked, had not proved to be enemies to us all," he says with a snap, looking straight at Elijah. "To everything we have. To our family."
"Davina in Marcel's family, Niklaus, or did that somehow slip your mind as you tried to take her life?" Elijah says. "You'll call Rebekah and you will tell her that Davina will recover."
"Wait," Caroline says. "What about the boy?"
"I didn't know Klaus would involve him, or I would've found a way to protect him as well," Marcel says, anger shining through his dark eyes. "You can't get more innocent than that kid."
Caroline steps in front of Klaus, right on his face, chin jutted obstinately, blue eyes glinting with fierce purpose. "Are you really gonna let an innocent boy die out of spite?"
"Davina needed to be taught a lesson," his brother counters.
"He's a kid, Klaus. Do you think you're being any better than those witches by involving someone who never asked to be a part of this in your ploy against them?" Never one to let someone else have the last word, Klaus opens his mouth to bark a response, even though he'll hardly have anything compelling other than his own misguided sense of self-righteousness to offer Caroline. But she stops him with a wave of her hand. "That girl was used and manipulated by every person she's ever dared to trust. The elder witches in her coven, her own family, Marcel, Elijah, you. All of you have betrayed her. How can you blame her for turning on you? You treat her like she's a thing, a weapon, but she's just a kid, Klaus, in love for the first time. She never asked for anything that happened to her. I know you must have an antidote somewhere. Don't do this. Cure him, Klaus. Don't be the monster they expect you to be." She makes a pause, and then, with a softer tone, she adds, "Please."
Klaus' face twists up into a grimace, and for a second Elijah thinks he's going to yell at her, tell her to stay out of it, but next thing they know, Klaus has vamped away from the courtyard.
Marcel looks at Elijah with a question in his eyes. "Where did he go?"
"To do the right thing, I hope," Caroline says, her back turned to them.
Elijah curbs his own need to comfort her. His brother keeps breaking this girl's trust, time and time again. He wonders how long it'll be until she's had enough of him. Of this family.
For Caroline's sake, he hopes she's right.
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"Sit down, Marcellus," Elijah says. "You're driving me insane."
"I can't," he replies, pacing around the courtyard as they wait for Rebekah. She said she was coming up from the dungeons; should be here any minute.
If it were up to him, he would've gone straight there, but Elijah told him to wait. Davina was angry with him, it would be best to let Rebekah deal with it, whatever it was. They still don't know where Klaus fucked off to, what happened to Tim.
"This is too fucking much," he mutters, scratching the back of his neck when they finally hear footsteps.
He freezes, staring at the entrance, Elijah joining him.
Rebekah walks in agonizingly slow steps, carrying a body. Davina's body. Oh, no.
Marcel rushes to them. "Is she ok?" he asks, taking in Davina's sleeping form. He can hear her heart beating, however slowly. She's alive.
"She's devastated," Rebekah says. "And exhausted. But she'll live."
"What about Tim?"
A second set of footsteps, and then Josh comes in, carrying another body.
"Is he...?"
"Alive," Rebekah says. "Klaus showed up out of nowhere to give him an antidote and his blood, so he'd heal faster. It was close. When Davina passed out, she thought he was already dead."
Marcel lets out a relieved sigh that had been trapped inside of him for hours.
"Niklaus healed him?" Elijah asks, an incredulous hint in his voice.
"I don't know what you said to change his mind–"
"It wasn't me," Marcel cuts Rebekah off, taking Davina from her arms.
The youngest Original's brow furrows in doubt, and she looks at her brother.
"It was Caroline," Elijah provides.
The look of shock on her face is exactly how Marcel feels.
How the hell did that girl convince Klaus to show mercy?
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Elijah steps out of his bloodied clothes and stays under the shower spray until the water going down the drain is no longer pink. His skin feels hot and raw, and he can barely see a thing with all the steam, but he doesn't mind. Today has been a long day. His body may heal, but the memory of the drowning in his own blood will stay on for a bit longer. Quite a nasty way to go.
The kind of exhaustion he feels comes not from his muscles, but from something deeper inside of him. From a thousand years of trying and failing to fix Niklaus. The answer to the mystery of how to reach his brother's cold heart, the one he never seemed to quite unravel... It took long years, impossible hardships and a lot of blood, but he finally has it.
Niklaus' conscience has beautiful blue eyes, is five months pregnant and answers by the melodic name of Caroline Forbes.
In typical Niklaus fashion, he's disappeared from sight after his unexpected show of mercy. If Elijah knows his brother at all, he'll be halfway through a bottle of bourbon by now, more annoyed by the fact he did something good than he would've been if he'd let the boy die. So he decides to go looking for him, find out which hole in the compound he's chosen to hide and wallow in self-pity.
As Elijah passes by the room Davina Claire has occupied, he sees Marcel. The younger vampire hasn't left the girl's side since he brought her up and put her comfortably in her bed, side by side with the boy Timothy. Neither of them has woken up yet, but Marcel hasn't moved a muscle, standing next to the bed like a statue, eyes fixed on the little witch as her chest rises and falls in tandem with her breathing.
Truth be told, Elijah didn't believe Marcel's feelings for Davina were so noble. He thought the sympathy he felt towards her stemmed from the fact he was himself abandoned by his biological family, and then by the family he'd been adopted into. The family that made him what he is. But this... This is love. He was terrified when he thought Klaus would hurt her, enraged when he thought the boy would die. Marcel didn't rest for a second until he was certain Davina would be all right, and not even her turning on him diminished his concern.
He truly cares about her.
"She'll never trust me again," Marcel says all of a sudden, turning his face to Elijah, who had been standing by the door.
He steps into the room, arms crossed in front of his chest. "Perhaps," he concedes. "But you must never surrender the fight to regain that trust."
Marcel is quiet for a spell. "That girl... The witch. How long has Klaus known her?"
"Almost four years, I assume. Since he landed on Mystic Falls seeking to undo the curse our mother placed upon him."
"And they stroke up a romance there?"
"Well, considering she ended up pregnant with his child, I would imagine so, but I wasn't there. Rebekah told me it was more complicated than that. Honestly, I remember very little of Caroline from the brief time I spent in Mystic Falls. When our mother returned from the dead, she threw a ball, invited half the city to it, and Niklaus took Caroline as his date. I remember thinking he seemed quite besotted. Her... Not so much. Then again, ever so often, my brother finds himself a muse. He filled his sketchbooks with her face, her eyes, her hair... I didn't make much of it, then. Niklaus has a passion for beautiful things, but it hardly ever lasts long. She was with Tyler Lockwood at the time."
"Yeah, I heard about it," Marcel says. "He sounded bitter."
"Not without reason, I would say. My brother devastated that boy's life for sport. But he and Caroline had their own issues. It seems he left town for a while and came back with a pretty werewolf girl in tow. It was only after he was gone again that she stopped resisting my brother's advances. I knew he had a soft spot for her, that she delighted him, but... I admit I had no idea his feelings ran so deep until we got here."
"I couldn't reason with him today. Rebekah couldn't reason with him. You couldn't reason with him. But when she asked..." Marcel snaps his fingers. "Klaus has killed people for less than what she said to him today. I've seen your brother have flings. I've even seen him enamored with a couple of them. But I've never seen him like that. Not for anyone."
Elijah's mind pulls him into distant memories. Tatia. Aurora. Different times, and a different Niklaus. One who felt too much, and had his heart broken far too often for it. "I have," he finally replies. "But it was such a long time ago I didn't think I'd ever see it again. I thought that part of Niklaus' heart was dead after centuries of darkness and resentment eating away at him. Somehow... Caroline Forbes brought it back to life."
"How the hell did he ever get a girl like that to care about him? She seems so..."
"Good?" Elijah offers. "Luminous? Just? I've wondered the same thing myself."
Every time Elijah tries to understand how exactly someone like Caroline could ever have feelings for someone as unhinged and amoral as Niklaus, he regrets ever having left Mystic Falls. He wishes he'd been there to see what exactly his brother did to win her affections. It was probably not easy, but it must've been grand. Niklaus has to have done something very right. The only problem is, he now has to live up to it. Caroline has expectations, and meeting them is far from simple for someone like Klaus, who hasn't known what it is to live to please others for nearly a millennium. Suddenly, he finds himself wanting to do better, to prove himself worthy of a girl who is forgiving and accommodating, but has very strict lines about right and wrong.
Niklaus' head must be a beautiful mess right now... More so than usual.
Elijah sees now, with sudden clarity, that his overprotectiveness of that child, how his paranoia has reached its worst levels, verging on complete madness, has nothing to do with the baby's capacity to sire new hybrids or even with a newly found desire for fatherhood.
It's Caroline. It's always been Caroline.
Elijah smiles to himself. As complicated as it all may be, and as much as he might have his own convoluted feelings for her, he finds himself oddly happy for Klaus. There's a lot of work to be done still, a lot of common sense that needs to be knocked into his brother's thick skull. His past is certainly dark, but for the first time in many centuries, Elijah thinks his future doesn't have to be.
"Klaus Mikaelson. In love," Marcel says, himself lost in some distant memory. "Who would've ever guessed?"
"Life's filled with inexplicable mysteries, Marcellus."
"It really is."
His eyes roam quickly around the room, and he's about to leave when something catches his attention. "What are those drawings?" he asks, approaching to inspect a bunch of very big, complex sketches made in black chalk. They seem... Powerful. Angry.
"Davina drew those the whole time she was in the attic," Marcel explains. "But these are different from the ones she did when she sensed magic."
"Different how?"
"She called them evil."
Elijah's brows crease together as he flips over the drawings. He can't really put his finger on it, but... There's something about them. Like a message or a clue.
"Can I take them?" he asks. "I'd like to have a better look."
Marcel shrugs. "Sure. Just give them back when you're done."
He piles up all the drawings and leaves Marcellus to his diligent watch of the little witch and her boyfriend. He'll probably have to compel the boy to forget today. Perhaps even more. It will likely be safer for young Timothy to stay away from Davina altogether. The sad fate of humans who dare to approach beings such as them... They inevitably get stuck between a rock and a hard place: either they end up devoid of memories, or devoid of life.
Forgetting all about his plans to chase down Niklaus, Elijah takes the drawings into his own room. Nothing like a good riddle to unwind after a maddening day.
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Caroline had a feeling she'd find Klaus languishing in his misery somewhere dramatic.
Good deeds don't come cheaply for him. It's almost as though it physically hurts him to let the world know he still has a human conscience stashed away somewhere. The Original hybrid has a reputation to uphold, can't have anyone thinking Klaus Mikaelson has a heart.
Still, Caroline smiles when she sees him cut a lonesome figure on the balcony, nursing a drink while the Casket Girls parade roars out on the street. So typical...
"Enjoying the view?" she asks as she steps out onto the balcony. The sound of music and laughter a deep contrast to the grimness on Klaus' expression.
"Hardly," he replies curtly, lifting the glass to his lips for a sip.
Caroline stops next to him, her hands closing around the railing. "Your sister told me the backstory. You should be proud. This festival is manifest proof of how deeply your family is connected to the city's history."
"I never understood the commotion surrounding the casket girls' legend. Rebekah turning a mob of lowlife savages into snack seems rather unremarkable to me. She does it every other day."
"You're a guy. That's why you don't get it." Klaus throws her a scornful glance before facing away again. Caroline decides to drop it. "I heard Tim is gonna be ok."
"Yes, well. I would've gained nothing from antagonizing the most powerful witch in the Quarter. Not that she'll feel any sympathy towards me anyway," he says dismissively.
"But at least you didn't kill her boyfriend. I know you think you have to threaten everything you want out of uncooperative people, but you don't always have to take those threats to the last consequences. Davina is not an enemy, Klaus, she's a child, scared and alone. She doesn't act out of hatred, she acts out of self-preservation. I'm sure you can relate."
Klaus lets out an impatient sigh. "Spare me the lecture, Caroline. I'm not in the mood."
Such a child, she thinks. Klaus is all untouchable and impassive, but the second someone calls him out on his bullshit, he starts pouting and throwing tantrums like a seven-year-old who doesn't get to pick his favorite cereals at the supermarket. Only sometimes people actually end up dead. She wonders if he was always like that, or if it was the excessive power — and Elijah's indulgence — that made him so spoiled.
"If you're going to pull the kind of crap you pulled today, Klaus, then you have to be ready to deal with the consequences. But," she says, raising her voice above the beginnings of a protest. "That is not why I'm here." She pauses. "You did the right thing tonight. You let your anger get the best of you, but you were kind enough to swallow your pride and take it back."
"You give me far too much credit, love. I only did so you'd sleep well at night."
"Right. Because you're pure evil." She rolls her eyes at him. "I didn't believe you then, I certainly don't believe you now. You might tell yourself that these small acts of kindness are all for the sake of someone else, and I believe that these things don't come naturally to you, but you didn't do it for me. You did it because you knew it would be wrong. Because you're stubborn, but you knew you'd regret it. You're not as heartless as you want people to think, Klaus."
Klaus' icy gaze flickers toward her with an impassive expression she cannot read. It's one of those nights, and he's in one of those moods, when he distances himself from everyone around him. Caroline's learned enough about him to understand that this is a coping mechanism against overwhelming emotions. When it gets too much, he shuts everyone out and retires into loneliness.
She puts a hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You listened to me tonight. For the first time since I got here, I had a glimpse of the guy I felt so..." She stops, eyes flickering away from him for a second as she considers her next words. "So drawn to back in Mystic Falls. That guy was capable of showing mercy, forgiveness and kindness, even towards people who defied him. I wasn't sure if he was still there. Now I know."
Caroline isn't sure what takes over her just then, but before she realizes what she's doing, she's got her arms around Klaus, pulling him into a kind of embrace she doesn't think they've ever shared before. It's not sensual or carnal, it's not about fear or relief either. It's... tender. Warm. Comfortable.
It takes a moment for Klaus to relax into it. He lets out a long exhale, and with it all his hesitation. Klaus' arms slowly take her in, one of his hands on the small of her back. He's gentle, not holding on too tight or pulling her too close, and Caroline smiles when she realizes it's because of the baby. Even so, their bodies seem to fit together perfectly. She closes her eyes, breathes him in, and allows herself to pretend that life can be as easy as this moment; that they can exist in this bubble forever.
"Kindness does not make you weak, Klaus," she murmurs softly. "It makes you stronger. It doesn't always have to be you against the world."
She pulls away slightly, enough to look him in the eye. Still dark and unreadable, but far less menacing than before.
"Why are you doing this?" he asks.
"Do I need a reason?"
"There's always a reason."
"Maybe I just care about you."
He faces away from her again, hiding behind his poker face. "That has never ended well for anyone. Ask Elijah."
She touches his face, cupping his cheek with one of her hands and forcing him to meet her eyes. "It's not up to you to decide."
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"It's not up to you to decide."
Caroline's voice is soft and wholehearted, but they reach Klaus like an electric discharge. He wonders if she feels it too. It jolts something ancestral awake inside of him, something long forgotten, begging to be brought back from a centuries-old slumber. Something that aches for the fire in Caroline's eyes and for the warmth of her touch.
She has no idea how hard he wishes he could will those feelings away. Klaus was fine before her. More than fine, even. He was arguably better than he'd ever been in his entire life. He was at the height of his might. Virtually indestructible. No one could touch him, and the whole world was laid bare before him, ready for the taking. Klaus could have anything he wanted. Anyone. Anywhere. By some vile twist of fate, however, he found himself wanting the one thing that was repeatedly denied to him: Caroline Forbes' heart.
When she looked at him with a plea in her eyes and begged him to heal the boy, he knew he'd have to do it, even if he deserved to die for Davina Claire to learn a hard lesson. No one challenges Klaus Mikaelson, not even the strongest witch in New Orleans. Death is the most gracious of torments they can get from him, one that is only bestowed upon those who deserve it. In a way, it is a kindness.
Caroline wasn't wrong when she said he'd regret it. He already did, long before she asked him to undo it. The truth is, he didn't want to hurt the boy. Timothy was nothing to Klaus, and he's a rather talented musician. It would be a shame to get rid of such a promising artist. But they forced his hand, called his bluff, and Davina should know better than to play games with someone far older, and far more wicked than she could ever hope to be. Yes, the girl was filled with hatred, her young heart aching with all the broken promises and betrayals. Her mistake was to think she could be his match. She isn't just widely outmatched before him; she's also weaker, inadequate, not nearly as cunning. Klaus is just more. When will they learn?
In a war such as the one they're fighting in New Orleans, sacrifices must be made, and if there's one thing Klaus has learned over the exceedingly long course of his life is that the victory always goes to those who are willing to walk the extra mile. To do what no one else would. Take Marcellus, for instance. It was his ruthlessness in dealing with the witches that guaranteed his rule went unchallenged — until someone stronger showed up, that is. He has some nerve accusing Klaus of being a predictable monster when he went on for months murdering witches left and right for far less than what Davina has done. Witches such as Jane-Anne Deveraux, slaughtered in public square for performing a passive spell that didn't even affect Marcel or his vampires. And that's not even mentioning the werewolves. Marcel slaughtered half of them, eliminated entire packs and then cursed the survivors to live in their beast form for decades. Some honor, that.
Yes, Klaus would've let the boy die, if not for Caroline. But he couldn't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes. The fear. Don't be the monster they expect you to be, she said. Oh, love... Don't you know I am every bit that monster? But something held him back. He could kill an innocent boy, but he couldn't kill the flame inside of Caroline.
Their relationship has been far from harmonious for the past few months. Or rather, ever, save for very few short interludes. They argue. They fight. They have monumental disagreements about almost everything. And then, out of the blue, a moment such as this will erupt between them and suddenly everything feels better again. Like not all is lost. Like there's still hope for them. Like he hasn't ruined things completely, and Caroline might yet feel as she once did on a sunny morning in Mystic Falls a little over five months ago.
Klaus remembers every curve on her body. The tiny, faint freckles like a hidden constellation on her shoulders. He remembers the taste of her, the sounds that would escape her rosy lips between his sheets. But more than that, he remembers how she laughed so freely that morning. Her fingers combing through his hair. Her smile against his skin. The pure devious fun of it, their little secret.
He wishes there was a way they could go back to it, but he knows it's impossible. Whatever happens, they'll never be able to feel as free as they did then. If anything then because of the impossible consequences that one torrid night of passion has brought them: the little thing that grows in her womb. The child changed everything. It brought them closer than ever, bound them together for eternity, but in many ways it also pulled them apart, and Klaus has no idea how to go about fixing it.
He almost crushed Caroline's heart tonight, he knows. He's done terrible things, but what he does now that they're living under the same roof, that their lives are forever intertwined because of the child they're having together, matters more. It's all become personal for her. He isn't just someone with whom she can cut ties and never think about again; he's the father of her daughter. And that... Is too big a title, one he's never wanted to carry. Doesn't know how to.
There's a whole new level of expectations for Klaus to live up to, and the truth is... He's terrified. Every day gives him a brand new chance to fail Caroline, their daughter, and even Elijah and Rebekah, whom he's disappointed more times than he can count. Family has always been a complicated matter for him, at once the best part of his world and a thorn on his side. But the Mikaelsons had their own way of dealing with their differences and peculiarities. It's one thing to be among equals, millennia-old vampires with foul tempers and awful track records to speak against them. Now, however... Everything is bordering on the impossible.
Klaus just doesn't know that he can do this and not break Caroline's soul in the process. As afraid as he is to lose her, to let her go, the one thing that scares him the most is that he might turn out to be her ruin. Not another thousand years would be enough for him to forgive himself.
"Well," she finally speaks again, pulling away from him. His hands itch to hold on to her, his body craving the warmth of hers. But he doesn't move when she steps away. "Good night, Klaus."
She smiles. He tries to, but can't. Instead, he just says, "Good night, sweetheart," and watches as she goes back inside.
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Caroline takes a second to compose herself when she goes back inside the house.
For a moment there, while she held his gaze, she thought maybe he would... That they would... Well, it doesn't matter. It's probably for the best. Things are way too complicated right now as it is. Making out isn't gonna fix anything. Not unless they mean more than just that. And... Well.
Suddenly, she is desperate for some Haagen-Dazs.
As she's making her way to the kitchen, she walks right by Elijah's room. The door is open, and she catches a bunch of papers spread across the floor. Curious, Caroline stops.
It's not just papers, it's drawings. Really strange, angry-looking ones. And Elijah is staring intently at them, moving a piece or another this way or that, like someone who tries to put together a puzzle.
"You ok?" she asks, standing by the door.
Elijah looks quickly up at her, flashing a smile. "Better now."
"What's with the artwork?" she asks, stepping inside the room to take a closer look. "I didn't know you liked to draw too."
"They're not mine," he replies, his attention back on the papers. "They're Davina's sketches. I wonder if they represent some kind of premonition."
"Premonition?"
"Marcel said she called them evil. They seem to suggest something's coming. Something... sinister."
Elijah starts moving the pieces of paper again, until something finally clicks. Hair, a nose, an eye... He changes the position of a couple more pieces, and suddenly they have a face looking up at them. A beautiful woman that looks faintly familiar. Caroline can swear she's seen her before...
And then it hits her. She lets out a gasp, her eyes widening as a cold shiver runs up her spine. "Oh my God..." she mutters... "Isn't that...?"
"Celeste."
TBC
So... give me your thoughts! Really looking forward to seeing what you think of this chapter! Hope you enjoyed the little change I made there in relation to canon. ;) Feedback is very much appreciated! And if you like, you can find me on tumblr galvanizedfriend. Thank you for reading!
And a word to the wise: hold on to the sweet moments, folks, 'cause it's gonna be a ride from here on.