The Wolf

by yokan87

When Caroline wakes up shackled, powerless and very far away from Mystic Falls, she knows she's in serious trouble. But when a woman named Sophie Deveraux reveals the reason why she's been kidnapped and taken to New Orleans, she realizes things are far worse than she could've ever imagined. [It's The Originals Season 1, but Caroline is a witch and she's pregnant with Klaus' child.]

16. S01E16: Moon Over Bourbon Street

An important warning: this is the dreadfully awaited ~~Genevieve Chapter~~. If you can't stand to read Klaus with anyone other than Caroline in any capacity, than consider whether you really want to read this. If you do read it, please don't yell at me. I warned you guys this moment would come. Be warned.

This chapter was not beta'ed, so it'll probably have a lot more mistakes than usual. I apologize beforehand. Also because this chapter was not beta'ed, it means I have no previous reactions to it and have no idea how any of what happens here will be received. lol It's the chapter I most dreaded, so you can imagine the TENSION. Be gentle with me, folks! Please? :(

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They say the passage of time will heal all wounds. But the greater the loss, the deeper the cut, the harder the process to become whole again is. The pain may fade, but scars serve as a reminder of the suffering and make the bearer all the more resolved never to be wounded again.

So as time moves along, we get lost in distractions, act out in frustration, react with aggression... Give in to anger. And all the way, we plot and plan as we wait to grow stronger. Then before we know it, the time passes... We are healed, ready to begin anew.

Except Niklaus seems to be stuck somewhere between distractions and frustrations.

Elijah would be far less preoccupied if his brother had been giving in to anger, as would be expected. Instead, he sulks and mourns in the confinement of his private quarters, rarely ever leaving the house. The outside world hasn't had news of Niklaus in a month, and while he retires into the privacy of his drinks and bad decisions, the world keeps on turning.

The city of New Orleans is a spark away from going up in the air. All around, sensibilities are heightened and nerves, jangled. Wolves, witches, vampires, even humans… Everywhere you look, be it the French Quarter or the Bayou, temperature is rising. With Marcel gone, the city's fine balance is at risk.

Elijah so detests to admit to a misstep, but the truth is he should've probably thought things through before he cast Marcel and his nightwalkers out of the Quarter, perhaps done it so in a more calculated manner. Granted, his own nerves were more than a tad frail then, and he hasn't regretted his decision. But he did not count on his brother becoming a hermit. New Orleans claims for a new king, a strong ruler to keep the city leashed, but the crown's rightful owner seems to want absolutely nothing to do with it. If they continue down this path for much longer, the situation will become unmanageable.

Somebody needs to act to make sure they can all still find peace, otherwise riots will start to break out left and right and soon enough they'll living in a supernatural wild wild west. Unprotected as she is out in the Bayou, a witch carrying a hybrid child, Caroline will be the first to get caught in the crossfire.

She naturally disagrees, insisting that she's better off there than she'd been under the Mikaelson's roof. Elijah cannot fathom how someone like her can live in the swamp, among mongrels and an endless parade of plaid shirts and cowboy boots, but it's hard to argue when she seems so ordinarily... fine. A lot better than he would ever like to admit. She gets along wonderfully with the werewolves, is very well-adjusted to their routines. Honestly, sometimes it's like she's a wolf herself. Either the baby's having a bigger influence over her than Elijah thought, or... He doesn't even like to think about the other alternative.

Since the Crescents finally broke the curse Marcel had placed on their pack a couple of weeks before, every time Elijah sees Caroline, she has that man, Jackson, hovering around her with a look of sheer adoration about him that has not escaped Elijah's attention. How Niklaus can stand that is just beyond him. Elijah has made sure to emphasize to his brother just how close Caroline and that werewolf seem to have become, and yet all it does is deepen his scowl and further sodden his mood. No action whatsoever. Klaus hasn't spoken to her once since she left their house. Not a phone call, not a text. Nothing. He hides behind a mask of aloofness, pretending to be understanding and accepting of her wishes, but he fools no one. His constant grumpiness and pitiful dejection leave no doubt as to how he truly feels. Caroline's departure has left a hole in their lives, her absence a haunting reminder of all their failings, and no one has felt it more deeply than Klaus. Yet he remains adamant in his refusal to do the decent thing, which would be to grovel at her feet and beg for forgiveness, resorting instead to wasting away in misery and pouting like a toddler - a drunken toddler, that is. And while he favors his pride over sensibility, the mother of his child inches ever closer to the Crescents' alpha.

Klaus was so angry about her proximity to Elijah and now, because of his negligence, his daughter might be born in a swamp, with something close to a caveman as a father figure. It's frankly outrageous. But Elijah should not be the one concerned about it.

He has devised a plan to fix... Well, everything. And it starts with a treaty that will bring together all the factions in the French Quarter. The offer is quite simple: they can all get along well, or they can face the consequences. And by consequences he means his thin-running patience. Everything that's happened has put a rather serious dent in Elijah's penchant for diplomacy. All these months living with his brother again must've rubbed off, after all.

The whole matter would be much facilitated if only Klaus would agree to join him at the meeting today. The sight of his shiny teeth has come to command a kind of authority from the other factions that Elijah's veneer of politeness hasn't.

He is about to go knock on his brother's door to try and talk him into joining the gathering of factions he's summoned at the church this afternoon when he hears the distinct female voice of a certain witch that has been flaunting her despicable presence around their home lately. It makes Elijah's stomach roil with aversion.

He stops, takes a deep breath. Understanding what goes through Niklaus' thick head has always been a challenge, but right now he's more of a conundrum than ever. And an astoundingly annoying one at that. Whatever the hell does he think he's doing with that woman?

Elijah collects the high-heeled shoes discarded right outside Klaus' bedroom and, not bothering to knock, pushes the door open. Genevieve is lying comfortably on the couch, very inappropriately underdressed, while Niklaus buttons up his shirt. Not even noon yet and he has already drank half the house's stash of bourbon and had a viper wrap herself around him. If only he showed this same kind of disposition towards more productive - and less distasteful - activities.

"And you wonder how you cannot shake off your demons. You continue to share a bed with one," Elijah says in a biting tone, glaring at the woman. "I trust you can find the rest of your clothes and the door."

Genevieve grins as though this is all very amusing to her, exchanging a glance with his brother before taking the shoes from his hand and disappearing from sight.

Once it's just the two of them alone, Elijah no longer bothers covering his obvious revulsion for the sake of diplomacy. Genevieve has been conveniently appointed as the head of the French Quarter covens, which means he can't even be as direct or as blunt as he would want.

"You do recall that... woman," he spits out the word coated in spite. "Tortured our sister?"

"She also revealed the truth about our sister's treachery," Niklaus retorts.

"And as a consequence, Rebekah is gone forever. And so is the mother of your child."

The mere mention of Caroline makes Niklaus' features twist into an ugly glower, his eyes immediately darkening. He turns his back on Elijah, taking a brush and going back to his paintings. It's been like this for an entire month now; whenever he wants to draw a line under a conversation, he starts painting.

"Our sister apparently harbored that desire for quite some time," Klaus snarls.

"And Caroline?" he presses. "It's been over a month. I feel our sister's loss as deeply as you, but you must stop distracting yourself with this ridiculous behavior and channel it into some kind of positive action. Caroline -"

"Made her own choice," Klaus cuts him off, curtly. "She wasn't my prisoner. If you're so concerned, brother, why don't you go and fetch her yourself?"

Even after all this time, his voice still hasn't lost that biting hostility whenever he mentions her, taunting Elijah about that kiss. If Elijah knew he'd be holding this much grudge for so long, he would've gone ahead and kissed her. At least Niklaus would have something real to be rancorous about and Elijah would've at least had the pleasure of it to be condemned. As it is, he's being tortured without having committed the crime while they waste their breaths and beat each other up over something that never happened.

"Niklaus, I understand your need to lash out, but I've apologized profusely already and do not know how to acquit myself further. I wasn't thinking, and had I been, I wouldn't have done it, but nothing happened because she wouldn't let me. She wouldn't let me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"She isn't here anymore," he replies with a grunt, aggressively attacking the canvas with his brush.

"And you intend to do nothing about it? Would rather straighten your bonds with a snake than make amends with the heavily pregnant woman carrying your offspring?"

"I do not recall asking for your assessment of my personal life, Elijah. I will let you know when I'm in the mood for your nonsense."

Elijah presses his lips tightly together as he holds back a less than polite expletive. Niklaus has been breaking all records when it comes to making him lose his poise. "This... Appalling conduct, this pathetic disregard for the feelings of others, is exactly what drove Caroline away. You may say whatever you want, brother, but I know you desire her safe return to this home as much as I do. You feel her absence more deeply than myself. If there was anything that I could do to make her change her mind, believe me, I would spare no efforts. But alas, I'm not the one she wants to hear from. You have to get her back."

Klaus sends him a wicked look over his shoulder. "So you two can go back to being thick as thieves again? So you'll have your second chance and maybe this time, now that your bastard brother has completely wrecked his every shot with her, you can have her for yourself? I think not. Let her be with the dogs in the bog. At least she's safe."

Elijah sighs. He frankly doesn't know what else he can do to convince Klaus that he does not want to steal Caroline away. He had one moment of weakness, just one in months of very convoluted feelings for that woman, a moment that didn't even amount to anything substantial, and he'll apparently get chastened for it for all eternity. If he could hear the sob stories Elijah tells Caroline about how depressed and helpless and sorry Klaus is since she left, he would know that all Elijah wants is for the two of them to find their way back to each other. His pleas, however, fall on deaf ears when Klaus continues to show nothing but apathy and disregard, at least as far as the rest of the world is concerned. And Elijah hasn't even told Caroline about Genevieve, can't even imagine what her reaction will be when she finds out. In that sense, it is a blessing she's removed herself from the French Quarter altogether.

"What about the city, then?" he tries, changing the subject to try and get some kind of response. "The throne you so coveted, for which you threw everything out the window. You have it now. During Marcel's tenure, this city became accustomed to having a king; without one, the balance is starting to fall apart. You must accept the responsibilities that come with taking Marcel's place."

"Apologies, but I'm rather ensconced in other pursuits," he says, dismissively.

Elijah takes the brush out of his brother's hand, staring him straight in the eye. "If you can so easily neglect your home, I wonder what will become of your daughter. Have you forgotten what it was like to live beneath the threat of violence? We must work together, Niklaus. Let's make the city whole again."

His brother's eyes flash, his expression morphing into something even grimmer than before. "Perhaps it is too broken to mend," he hisses, pushing Elijah out of the way and retrieving his brush.

Well, that's it, then. He tried.

"If you won't do anything," he tells Niklaus. "Then I will."

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"You got to try Tucker's ribs," Jackson says, a huge smile plastered on his face. That's pretty much been his default expression for the last week and a half. Caroline has to say, it is very uplifting to be around positive, happy people for a change.

The mood in the camp has completely shifted since her arrival. The squalid, despondent place she'd seen before is a thing of the past. The night she moved in, they were having a kind of low-key celebration at the common cabin, a large wooden construction where they hold their group meetings and events. Every one of the Crescents who could hold a fork was there, and the ones who couldn't were hanging outside, howling merrily to the moon.

Caroline's tip about Celeste had proved true, and they managed to grab a hold of her just before Elijah did. It's hard to understand why that woman would ever want to do anything good to anyone, which makes one wonder what her real intentions were when she decided to help them out and make the counter-spell to break the curse. But since she's dead, it no longer matters. All that matters is that it worked. All they had to do was wait until the next full moon and drink a potion she'd mixed to make sure the power of the celestial event would be channeled into the magic she'd done.

Caroline was... carefully optimistic. A part of her expected something sketchy to come out of it, thinking that she'd tricked them somehow. But she didn't want to rain on their parade and contaminate them with her gloominess when they had finally found cause for joy. Instead, she focused on research; Elijah brought her some grimoires from the compound and she learned all she could about the ingredients Celeste used on the potion. Caroline had never seen them being combined before, but everything pointed towards it being legit. At the very least, it didn't seem like it was poisonous. They would only know for sure if Celeste had completed the counter-spell on the next full moon, so there was nothing to do but wait. If it didn't work, they'd have to start thinking about kidnapping Monique next.

But when the full moon finally came and went and Jackson and the others remained in their human forms, the crowd went wild. Last week has basically consisted of celebration after celebration. Jackson talks nonstop, about everything, which can be a little exhausting, but Caroline can sympathize. If she'd spent years trapped in an animal body, she would want to talk until her tongue dropped too. Besides, his boyish excitement about the silliest and smallest of things is kind of endearing. He's a really nice guy.

Unlike Oliver, the douchebag who sold Rebekah out to the witches. Caroline doesn't really know how it went, because he refused to talk to her, just shrugged and walked away when she confronted him, but someone else told her he led Rebekah into the woods, away from everyone else, where other werewolves from a different pack were waiting to attack her. Not like you need much convincing for a wolf to want a bite out of an Original, but still. Jerkface. She can barely stand the sight of him, but he and Jackson are thick. The two have been friends since they were kids and, apparently, during the years of their wolfish ordeal, they had each other's backs through some rough patches. It's really the only reason Caroline didn't hex the hell out of that asshole, out of consideration for Jack. But one of these days, if Oliver catches her on a particularly hormonal time, his luck might run out.

Life with the wolves has been quite the ride, she'll say, but much better than she could've ever thought. The fact she's a witch didn't bother them too much - aside from Oliver, of course - since they are, for some reason, incredibly grateful, even though she never tried to take credit for breaking the curse. It was all Eve going after Celeste on her own with a shotgun. But even Eve keeps saying she's the one who changed everything for them, which, frankly, sounds a little too prophetic for Caroline's taste. Then again, that seems to be the general theme surrounding her. They also seem to think her daughter is the promised wolf messiah.

They're having a huge party today, the largest one yet. They invited everyone over, different clans and all, and apparently this Tucker guy cooked these famous ribs Jackson has been raving about for days.

"If it turns out to be not half as good as you've been advertising -"

"Trust me, Tucker does not disappoint," Jackson says as he places the dishes around the huge table they've settled for the banquet.

Caroline chuckles. "Then what? We're gonna go play horseshoes after dinner?"

"Hey, don't mock country living, darling."

"Sorry," she raises her hands in an apology. "I'm just not used to country living."

"You're a town girl through and through, aren't you?"

"Small town, but yes. I even hated camping. But I did grow up running about the woods in Mystic Falls, so there's that."

"You'll get used to it."

"I'm sure I will. This is just... A lot more family fun than I've had for the past few months. It's a bit... overwhelming."

"Well," he says, looking her straight in the eyes. "Maybe I can help you get used to it."

The earnestness in his gaze is always a bit too much for her. Like she should wait for the other shoes to drop or for Jackson to offer her some kind of deal in exchange for his pack's hospitality and friendship. Six months with the Mikaelsons have made her more cynical than she ever remembers being, it seems.

"Then all we gotta do is just forget she spent half her life with humans and the other half with vampires," Oliver says, butting into their conversation like the nosy bastard that he is.

Caroline bristles, a stiff smile on her face as they stare each other down.

"Ollie, back off," Jackson admonishes, his tone a lot graver than it was a second before.

Caroline flicks her wrist and sends the drink in his hand flying across the room. "You forgot to mention I'm a witch."

Jackson tries - and fails - to conceal an amused smile. "You two have to cut this off."

"It's ok, Jack. If the runt of the litter has got something to say, he should say it."

Ollie snorts. Caroline has taken to mocking his size lately, which is not hard at all to do when she is almost a head taller than him. He barks very loud for such a tiny thing, though.

"You know," he starts. "Word from the Quarter is your boy Elijah is holding some kind of power summit. Guess who wasn't invited."

The mood instantly sours, and even Jackson's smile fades.

They've opened their arms to Caroline around here, but the Original family is still very much despised, even Elijah. And while Caroline chose to remove herself entirely from the politics of faction wars, things have been catching fire all over New Orleans. But the wolves only ever hear it from other people. Elijah holds talks with the witches, the humans and the vampires, but never once came over to discuss the matters of diplomacy with the werewolves. And now that their alpha has been finally returned to his human form, he has no excuses to keep the wolves excluded from his peace treaty discussions.

Caroline hates to be dragged into that kind of thing, but she can't help but feel responsible. Something tells her the fact she's chosen to live in the Bayou instead of at the compound has left Elijah even more biased against the wolves than his vampire nature would normally make. And Klaus, who should have a say in including his own freaking lost family in it, has apparently withered away as a hermit somewhere deep in that house.

No one's heard or seen him in weeks. While Caroline wanted to be left well alone, away from all their drama so she could rest and heal, when it turned out that he wasn't at all interested in getting in touch and, more importantly, apologizing for being a royal ass, she was more than a little hurt. That he hasn't even texted to ask about his own child just makes her so annoyed. Elijah is probably giving him reports on absolutely everything, but still. His total disregard speaks volumes. Apparently, he just doesn't care at all that she's not there anymore. Might even be glad to have dodged a bullet. She wouldn't put it past Elijah to embellish his sob stories about how bad his brother's doing just to soften her up. Needless to say, it's not working.

Still, her close connections to the Mikaelsons raise eyebrows around the camp and every time someone mentions Elijah or Klaus - always with clear revulsion - eyes turn to find her. Like she's some kind of emissary from the Original family. Caroline never had any say whatsoever in what they do while she was still living with them, let alone now.

No one's asked her for anything, Jackson never even dared to suggest that she should talk to them, but it might be the only way Elijah will actually listen to the wolves. It's pathetic, because she's not even one of them, but her daughter is. And if Klaus' head is too far up his own ass for him to give a shit, someone should.

"Where did you hear that?" she asks Oliver.

"It doesn't matter," he shrugs. "The point is that we're stuck here living in the swamp while your vampire boyfriends are deciding who gets what in the city." Ollie raises his eyebrows at them, and Caroline fists her hand not to smash the smirk off his face. "But I guess that shows how much respect they've got for the werewolves, huh?"

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Eye rolls, Elijah thinks, are so very beneath him, but it's almost inevitable, given the predicament he currently finds himself in.

With everyone snarling and screaming like a bunch of uncivilized baboons, he almost regrets having invited them to the table instead of simply issuing out orders. It's what Niklaus would've done. Elijah has always complained about his brother's authoritarian ways, but perhaps the threat of violence really is the only language these people understand. His disposition for dialogue has left them under the impression that they are to rule the city, rather than answer to a higher - and greater - power.

And the yelling is starting to hurt the delicate sensibilities of his super hearing, to be honest.

"Gentlemen," Elijah roars, his voice booming across the church and quieting down the disorder. "And ladies," he adds, once all eyes are on him. "Thank you. Now..."

He pushes his chair back and stands to his feet, looking down on all the people around the table Father Kieran so kindly set for their meeting, although the effect the holy ground was expected to provide has been so far slight. His brother's newest concubine brought a male witch Elijah had never had the displeasure of meeting until today. Diego, now representing all vampires, came with Dora, whom Elijah vaguely recalls from all the loitering they used to do at the compound. Kieran attends as the sole representative of the human faction, but his boisterous voice certainly compensates for the lack of company.

Definitely not the most remarkable group of people Elijah's ever held discussions with or had around a table. But beggars can't be choosers. Or... Something.

"These," he says, lifting an old-looking piece of paper. "Are the rules of the city according to Marcel Gerard." Elijah tears the paper in two and throws it away. "Which of course no longer apply because I am the one in charge now."

"You said if we came along then we would get to run things by ourselves," Diego protests. "Never mentioned anything about making yourself king."

"Well, you were each selected to represent your own communities, and I will honor that. But you seem to have misunderstood the situation here. There's a leader, and that is me. Any issues which arise between factions will have to come to me." Elijah allows them a second to absorb the information before continuing. "Now, we are all to some extent responsible for the current chaos in the city. However, you have one very, very simple choice ahead of you here. You can all play nicely together, or you can leave. I will not tolerate insubordination, provocations or the kind of appalling behavior we saw here on this very table. It's exactly because of that we are in this mess to begin with. Questions?"

He looks each and every one of the presents in the eye, lingering slightly longer on Genevieve. He may not know what his brother expects to achieve by philandering with that witch, but Niklaus is not as subtle as he would like to believe. At least not to Elijah. That awful affair is neither gratuitous, nor born out of affection; he wants something from her. And Elijah suspects the machination might be mutual. She's using Klaus right back. To what end is what he aims to find out.

"Good. Now, returning to the issue of boundaries, you will all heed to the following."

"Aren't you forgetting anyone?"

All heads whip around to the back of the church. Elijah can't mask his surprise at the sight of Caroline. They were all screaming so loud he didn't even hear her approaching. This is the first time she sets foot in the French Quarter since her departure a month before - that he knows of, anyway. It's safe to say she was the last person he expected to see breaking into their meeting. Even a sudden appearance by Niklaus wouldn't have been as unforeseen.

She approaches the table with slow steps, her blue gaze, sharp and unwavering, never leaving Elijah. It doesn't escape him how majestic she looks with her hair catching the light coming in through the church's high windows, her chin held high. Confident and determined. It's... distracting.

"You're diving up the city and the werewolves don't even get a say?" she asks, crossing her arms on top of her swollen stomach.

A ripple of uncertainty runs across the table.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Diego demands.

"Diego, sit," Elijah says, motioning for him to remain in his place. "We are not dividing the city," he starts, calmly. "We're establishing boundaries -"

"No, Elijah," Caroline cuts him off. "There is not gonna be peace - real peace - if the werewolves are excluded. This is their city, too. They want a seat at the table." Diego scoffs loudly, and Genevieve shakes her head. Caroline glares at both of them, and then her eyes return to Elijah with even more fire. "And if they don't get one, I can guarantee that you will all regret it."

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The party is over almost as soon as Caroline arrives. She's frankly disappointed. It would be a great opportunity to give some of them a little piece of her mind.

When she finishes delivering her speech - which she had hoped to only have to deliver to Elijah, not to a room full of people she holds in very low regard and who likely feel the same way about her, with the exception of Father Kieran - there's a second's pause, and then the place erupts in uproar. Everyone stands to their feet, pointing fingers and yelling - mostly at Elijah, but at her as well. It seems the one thing all these assholes can agree on is that they all despise the wolves.

All the more reason for Caroline to like her new friends.

Elijah pressed his lips into a fine line, fuming, a white-knuckled grip on the back of the chair whilst everyone spoke their minds. It was hard to even understand what was being said, but honestly, Caroline couldn't care less. They were obviously not saying anything that interested her. So let them yelp away. It won't change anything.

The witches are the first to march out, all indignation. Then Diego and his lady vampire friend flash away, slamming the church's door behind them like rebellious teenagers. When he senses the thick tension in the air between Elijah and Caroline, Father Kieran calmly excuses himself, retreating into his private quarters at the back of the church.

Caroline crosses her arms again, bracing herself for the reprimand she knows she'll get.

"Do you have any idea what it took just to get those people in one room together?" Elijah asks, barely containing his irritation.

"No, actually, I don't. Because I didn't even know what you were doing out here until someone else told me."

"I thought you didn't want to be brought into the city's politics."

"I don't. But it's not like I have a choice. My connection to your family means I get stared at every time something like this happens in the Quarter."

"Then perhaps you should take your grievances up to Jackson Kenner, make it clear to him that you have absolutely nothing to do with any French Quarter businesses."

"Don't I, though? Are you really sure that I don't?" she narrows her eyes at him. "Why did you leave the werewolves out? Is it because you blame Jackson for what happened at the plantation house?"

"That's ridiculous."

"Or maybe it's because I'm living with them now."

"I excluded them because they no longer reside in the French Quarter," he says, very solemnly. "My immediate concern is to end the mounting conflict here. Now, I can assure you, once this treaty is solidified, it will expand to include the wolves."

"And until then you expect me to tell them what? Sit? Stay? Roll over?" she bites out.

"I would prefer that you remove yourself from the process altogether." Elijah speaks with real heat in his voice now, escalating in a way Caroline had never heard before. Not addressed to her, anyway.

She's momentarily thrown, but it only lasts a moment before annoyance settles in. She grinds her teeth, giving him a hard look.

"You're lucky I haven't removed myself from the process. If Jackson and Oliver had been here today, you can rest assured you'd have a lot more problems than just a bunch of pouty faces walking out on you."

"They're not your people, Caroline," he speaks in a slow, measured tone.

"No, they're not. But they're your brother's, and my daughter's," she snaps. "I don't want to be speaking for them, but they have taken me in and treated me cordially and I owe it to them to defend their interests, especially against people who have tried to see me dead. It's interesting that you would rather sit with Genevieve, after everything she's done, than to have an honest conversation with Jackson."

Elijah has the decency of looking awkward, gazing away from her.

"Caroline..." he breathes out, approaching her. "Are you entirely sure that you shouldn't return to the compound?"

She huffs out a laugh. "Really? What is Klaus' opinion on that?"

"You know he -"

"I don't know anything. I haven't heard from your brother in over a month," she says, hating the edge on her voice. "You think the compound is where the baby will be safe?"

"Is the Bayou any better?"

Yes, Caroline wants to say, but the truth is... She doesn't know that either. Every day, more packs arrive. Jackson is thrilled to see so many werewolves coming together, thinks it's a sign that the baby is already uniting their people so they'll have a fighting chance against the ones who will see them isolated and weakened. As much as Caroline can agree that they should be allowed to fight for their rights, she honestly hopes push doesn't come to shove. The kind of expectation they deposit on her baby over there isn't any more reassuring than Elijah's. Saving the werewolves or saving Klaus. It's hard to tell which is more unattainable.

For the sake of everyone, including her daughter's, she really wishes Elijah's peace treaty bear fruits and they can find some common ground for all the factions - including the werewolves. If anyone has a chance of making it work, it's Elijah and Caroline has faith in him. But only if he's willing to put down his petty resentments and invite the Bayou people to the grown ups' table.

"They've suffered enough, Elijah. No one has paid a higher price in this city's wars than the werewolves. They've just broken out of their curse. If you really want to make things different from Marcel's era, then the wolves deserve a voice," she says. "Give them one. You know it's the right thing to do."

She turns on her heels and marches out of the church.

It's weird, talking to Elijah like this, handling him as though he were just anyone, rather than a friend. As content as she is in the Bayou, and as quickly as she's adapted to life among the werewolves, she'd be lying if she said she doesn't miss the French Quarter. The music, the people, the smell of fresh beignets always in the air. It's a completely different atmosphere than life in the countryside.

And as grateful as she is to the wolves, to Eve and Jackson... She misses Elijah, too. And Klaus. God, she really misses that idiot. And she tries so hard not to. Just thinking about him hurts. Caroline's no stranger to heartbreak, has had several over the course of her short life. But somehow this feels... More. Worse, in ways. They're going to have a baby, for god's sake.

As she exits the church and climbs into Jackson's truck - it is getting really uncomfortable to drive - an idea occurs to her.

She kept her distance for an entire month, and Elijah is always saying how pitifully depressed Klaus is... Honestly, she thought she'd find him here today. It's kind of shocking that someone is taking the reins over the city and Klaus is just... Letting it happen. It makes her wonder if maybe Elijah really is telling the truth after all. And in any case, she really wanted to borrow some grimoires to do some research for a few spells that might be useful at the camp. So she could stop by Rousseau's to say hi to Cami, and since she'll be in the neighborhood...

Well. The compound is just around the corner, anyway.

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Genevieve seems to be operating under some kind of misconception, and it's frankly starting to become rather bothersome.

When she showed up at his home, all sultry lips and ill-concealed lust, Klaus spotted an opportunity.

Officially, she said she was there to see that he was ok and apologize for any harm she might have caused him. "I never had any vendettas against you. It was only your sister I wished to expose." Well, Klaus can at least appreciate the cynicism.

He never bought her excuses, of course. It's obvious she wants something and thinks that sweet-talking him is the way to get it. He has a strong suspicion of what it might be, based on her not-so-subtle constant adulation of his mother. Genevieve wants to get her skeevy little hands on the Original witch's grimoire. To what end, he's yet to discover. But it just so happens that Esther's grimoire is at the heart of what Klaus needs from her. He would've never taken this route himself, but there wasn't a better time for her to have decided to bat her eyelashes at him. They might yet come to a mutually beneficial agreement.

Ever since the showdown at the cemetery, no one has seen Klaus leaving the compound, but that does not mean he hasn't been working towards building a better city. While Elijah pulls at his hair to get everyone to sit down and discuss propositions, Klaus has, as always, taken a more direct approach to matters. Starting with luring Genevieve to his side. He's no Elijah, with his fancy speeches and Hollywoodian style, but Klaus can conceal his rougher edges when he wants to, and he's never had any trouble filling his bed. While Genevieve no doubt showers Elijah with absurd demands and imposes all sorts of obstacles to his peace treaty, Klaus has found better uses for her mouth. Not only does it keep her quiet, it also keeps her satiated and quite manageable. His brother is too moral to understand that the quickest ways to seal a deal are violence and pleasure. Klaus happens to excel at both.

With a powerful, compliant witch by his side, and one who now controls the entire coven as their last remaining elder, Klaus can move forward with his plan. But it won't be easy to get Genevieve on board. And before he can even try to talk her into it, he needs to understand exactly what it is that he'll need from her. That's the trickiest part, in fact. He doesn't know yet.

He's been dedicating a lot of his time lately towards unraveling the mystery of the ring Elijah found with one of his distant relatives in the Bayou. The one who used to belong to his mother and that was, allegedly, gifted to what Klaus assumes was his biological father, if there's any truth to the myth. There was a spell on Esther's grimoire that caught his attention a long time ago, but Klaus never really managed to figure it out. He is fluent in dozens of languages, even some that no longer exist, but never quite mastered witchcraft gibberish. Not for the first time, he finds himself regretting not having shown more interest for practicing magic back in the day. If only Kol was still alive...

The little he does understand, however, tells him the spell was designed to enchant a stone, much like the lapis lazuli works for the daylight rings, and that it involves channeling the power of a celestial event. Such as the full moon. The gaps lie in what precisely the spell is supposed to do, and what kind of stone it requires. But when he remembered that ring Elijah found, it occurred to him... What if the Original witch, aside from creating daylight rings for her children, also created a moonlight ring for her lover? If daylight rings keep vampires from burning under the sun, perhaps moonlight rings could keep werewolves from turning into beasts every full moon, all the while maintaining access to their powers, to make sure they'd be strong enough to fight whatever threats came their way - a betrayed Viking husband, for instance.

If Klaus is right about this, he could get Genevieve to make moonlight rings for the Crescent wolves in the Bayou. It would give him the next best thing after a hybrid army, and it would make sure they could effectively keep Caroline and the child protected.

Besides, if the wolves get that kind of power, it will certainly guarantee them their spot back on the grown ups' table, restoring the balance between factions in the French Quarter.

It's perfect.

If only there weren't still so many steps before he can actually get to the manufacturing of the rings. First, he needs to figure what exactly the spell demands and what kind of stone that ring used to carry. Lapis Lazuli isn't so common, but the extreme demand means the supernatural world never runs out of it. Moonlight rings, however, are unheard of. Depending on what Esther used to bind the spell, it could be hard to come upon all the ingredients in sufficient quantity. And then there's the problem of Genevieve. Klaus has been laying the groundwork, doing everything he can to sweeten her disposition and make her more open to negotiations, so to speak. If it's his mother's grimoire she wants to take a look at, it can be arranged. Convincing a witch to empower the werewolves, whom her coven cursed for decades, is what promises to be the tricky part.

If only there was a trustworthy witch with a soft spot for the wolves he could count on...

Klaus has considered approaching Caroline with his plan a few times. She's the obvious choice, and he doubts she would turn him down. The way she's become attached to them... He can't help the jab of jealousy. She smiles so easily when she's with them. Seems so relaxed, so comfortable... It's a world of distance from what she was like while she was at the compound. Always tense, annoyed, unhappy about something - or someone, more likely. Caroline would do anything in her power to help them, even talk to the last person she probably wants to see in the whole world right now. But bringing her into it defeats the whole purpose.

The reason why Klaus is even entertaining this arrangement with Genevieve is so he won't have to involve Caroline further. She's been through enough. Forging these rings might be dangerous. It is certain to enrage the other factions, all of which have always despised the wolves. If they catch wind of what Klaus is trying to do before they're ready to do it, they'll retaliate, do whatever they can to stop it, and if Caroline's in the way... No. He won't allow it. He's doing this to keep her safe, not to have her killed.

Klaus has learned his lesson the hardest possible way. Rebekah's betrayal and Caroline's departure left emptiness in him he doesn't think will end any time soon. Seeing Caroline in pain, scared, and knowing it was his fault, broke him. He went to find Camille the very next day following her departure and, after getting thoroughly chided, the bartender seemed to take some pity on his anguish and assured him Caroline had seen a doctor and that the baby would be ok. "But she needs rest, Klaus. Peace. Quiet. Or it could happen again and she could go into labor. So if you care about her and your child at all, let her be."

It was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but Camille wasn't wrong. It wasn't hard to figure out where she'd taken refuge; Klaus has eyes everywhere. Resisting the temptation to go to her was difficult, but it got easier with time - and a few reinforced daily doses of liquor.

Of course he couldn't stay completely away. Elijah's meager reports on her well-being were not enough. Caroline doesn't know it, and neither does anyone else, but he's been there. He's seen her. And in spite of how much he's wanted to speak to her, hold her, apologize for his temper, for being so jealous... He decided to heed Camille's advice and let her be. If being in the Bayou is what she truly wants, if it brings her peace, then, just this once, he'll respect her wishes. He would do anything to never see that terrified look on her face again, even keep his distance.

This isn't to say he isn't soured by her close proximity to those wolves, especially to their alpha, Jackson Kenner. Just thinking about it makes him piqued. But, at least for now, Klaus hopes to be, for once, doing the right thing.

And it's precisely to preserve Caroline and keep her as blissfully oblivious as possible to yet another French Quarter intrigue that he can't do what he truly wants and kick Genevieve out the second she's not making herself useful anymore.

That woman sure likes to talk.

The first time it happened, it was out of a sense of opportunity, yes, but it was also a quick way to work out a lot of the mounting frustration Klaus had been harboring for weeks. And anyway, Genevieve isn't hard to look at and she was obviously interested. Almost eight months without sex was a lot more than he's used to. Vampires and werewolves are physical creatures, and he happens to be a combination of both. It just felt like a good opportunity to... Unwind.

It was almost... angry. More relieving than it was pleasurable. The kind of thing that brings him no satisfaction. This has remained unchanged since. Right or wrong, and Klaus can agree that she had compelling reasons, Genevieve hurt his sister, set fire to a house with Caroline in it - although she swears by everything holy and sacred that they were never going to let her die. "It was just to get your brother distracted. We would've kept the fire away from her. I wish her no harm. She's a witch, too." Well, the house was burned to the ground, so he isn't too sure how truthful she is on that regard.

Klaus would rather know the truth about Rebekah, but sometimes he wishes he never did. He's not grateful to Genevieve, nor does he feel indebted. He just... Doesn't blame her for having sought revenge. Anyone in her position would've done the same. If his sister had never set out to betray her own blood, none of that would've happened. If Genevieve had personally tried to kill or hurt Rebekah, things would be different. But since she let Klaus decide her fate... That earned her points, for sure. Nobody touches his family and lives. Then again, she probably knows that, which is precisely why she didn't. Genevieve is smart. Way too smart, perhaps. Sly. Untrustworthy. Keep your friends close, etc., etc...

While they're doing it, Klaus can just disconnect his mind from everything. Focus on the sensations, rather than the feelings. For a resurrected witch who lived her mortal life as a prude, Genevieve's come back with quite an interesting set of skills and very little inhibitions, which he can certainly appreciate. But to her great misfortune, the memory of the last person Klaus had laid with before her is still only too vivid in his mind. And every time, when they're done, Klaus is flooded with a deep melancholy. Something is just... missing. The sex is fine, if a little boring, Genevieve is pretty and definitely enthusiastic, but... She feels wrong.

The only woman Klaus truly wants to be with is out in the Bayou being joyful with her new overexcited friends while he's having miserable sex with a witch he hates. This is his very definition of torture.

He is turning out to be a better actor than he thought, though, because he was certain that the struggle was written all over his face every time he rolled away from her and got out of bed almost immediately after, but Genevieve keeps showing up, all eager and yearning. Either he's the best she's ever had - which he can't blame her; he is truly gifted, even when he's hardly putting any effort into it - or she's really that desperate for the grimoire - in which case, it makes him even more curious about what she seeks to find there.

Either way, this arrangement has not been without its costs, and it is frankly starting to get on his nerves, especially since he can't just boot her off. His life would be made so much easier if she were to develop a crush on his brother. Why is it only the women he actually wants who seem to take notice of Elijah?

He was concentrated on a painting, one he's been working on for weeks now, and never seems to be quite done with. Every time he thinks he's there, he realizes there's something missing. And just when he thought he'd made a breakthrough... Genevieve showed up. Again.

Klaus never thought easy sex could be such a burden.

Why can't it be just about sex? Has she no grasp over the concept of casual? It ceases to be satisfying unless they part ways right after. He doesn't want to lie between sheets and hear pillow talk. All he wants is a little relief and a little silence. Is that too much to ask for?

Apparently, she just came out of Elijah's council meeting and she has opinions. Whatever made her think that Klaus would be the most appropriate person to come vent to, he has no idea. What part of his recluse, depressed artist cover escapes her?

"Your absence was sorely felt at the new meeting," Genevieve says as she, none too subtly, takes off her top.

Klaus sighs, keeps his eyes firmly trained on his painting, hoping she'll take a hint. It is a true sign of just how chafed and indifferent he's become that the sight of a woman's bosom being spontaneously offered to him inspires nothing but boredom. "Elijah has always been the diplomat in the family," he says.

"Diplomat? More like a dictator."

"Oh?" Klaus arches his eyebrows, his interest slightly piqued. "Do tell."

"He wants us to play nice, or else. He took it upon himself to split up the city and tell us where we can or cannot go." Klaus' lips twist into a light grin. He's almost proud of his brother. Perhaps they're more alike than anyone thought. "I'm not sure how successful his first endeavor as self-appointed administrator will turn out to be. There were far too many questions and he failed to provide any satisfying answers. I don't think anybody left that meeting happy." She makes a pause. "Not even Caroline." Klaus goes very stiff all of a sudden, but manages to keep his face carefully blank. Genevieve huffs out a mirthless laugh. "You should've seen his face when she walked in."

"What was Caroline doing there?" he asks as casually as he can, mixing the inks on his palate with a little too much intent.

"Delivering a message from the mongrels in the Bayou."

"She's not one of them."

"Apparently she's allowed to speak for them. And they want a seat at our table."

Her clearly vexed tone doesn't bode well for Klaus' intentions. If she feels like this just to allow the wolves to participate on their little tea party, what will she feel like about giving them the power to actually make threats?

"Why not?" he asks absently. "Having a seat at the table guarantees nothing. They'd probably get outvoted anyway. It just gives the idea of democracy."

He feels Genevieve's breath on the back of his neck, then her hands snaking around his waist. "Do you believe this can actually work?" she murmurs, her lips close to his ear. For all her cynicism, her question sounds sincere. Perhaps even someone like Genevieve, who spent a hundred years harboring nothing but revenge and acrimony, can wish for a better life. "That we can finally have some semblance of peace in this city?"

Before he has a chance to answer, he hears the distinctive sound of quick footsteps approaching. It can't be Elijah because his brother moves like a ghost. No one else has been circulating around the compound since Elijah kicked them all out, Genevieve aside.

Could it be...?

"I was in the neighborhood and decided to stop by to -"

Klaus' heart skips a beat, then slams forward. Genevieve moves away from her perch behind him, and Klaus hesitates, pretending to distract himself with cleaning his ink-stained hands with a cloth. He presses his eyes shut, cursing his bad luck. Genevieve hasn't been around that much, although Elijah makes it sound as though she's moved in with his incessant complaints. And yet she happens to be here on the one day Caroline decides to come out of the swamp.

When he finally whirls around, he finds Caroline's face pulled into an expression that says she's both deeply offended and borderline mortified, gaping in a way that would be comical if Klaus hadn't gone cold at the sight of her.

The first time they come face to face in a month and Genevieve is right there, half-naked between them.

Caroline's eyes rake over Genevieve, and then return to Klaus, the shock giving place to a scowl, her gaze snapping fire.

"Seriously?" she bites out, a quiet fury simmering underneath her words.

"You should've called," he says, schooling his face into nonchalance and sticking up his chin. "Genevieve. We need a moment, please."

"Fine. I have places to be anyway." She puts her shirt back on, grabs her purse and simply walks out.

Caroline crosses her arms. Only now, from up close, he can see how her belly has grown in the last month. She looks... Radiant. Beautiful. Not even over a month in the Bayou and the obvious anger radiating off of her have dimmed her shine. Or perhaps it's just that his life has been filled with so much darkness since she left that the mere sight of her feels luminous, even though she's clearly ready to stake him.

"Have you no shame?" she demands through grit teeth.

"Caroline -"

"That woman is the reason Rebekah is gone. She's part - actually, no. She's the head of the group that's been plotting against you and your family - against your unborn child - since the day you arrived here."

"Well, New Orleans breeds nothing if not strange bedfellows," he says mindlessly, looking away from her. He doesn't have a good excuse, none that would make a difference to her, anyway. And, truth be told, despite his shame, there's perhaps a little part of him feeling vindicated to see her this furious. At least now she knows how he felt when he saw her getting cozy with his brother. "I assume you're not here to question my leisure activities. What brings you out of the swamp?"

Klaus is sure he sees a flash of bitter hurt in her eyes before it gets masked by the anger again. He feels a pang of guilt. "You know what? Never mind. It's not worth it."

Caroline storms out like a hurricane, and again Klaus is left with that sense of emptiness at the pit of his stomach.

He just can't win. Even if he gets everything he wants - the city, control of the witches, enough moonlight rings to arm the entire population of werewolves in the Bayou... As long as Caroline looks at him like that, victory will always taste like ashes in his mouth.

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Elijah quietly sips on his drink, allowing himself a rare moment of peace in a rather troubled day.

He was prepared for the petty qualms and meaningless altercations that gathering all the city's factions would certainly bring. What he wasn't ready for was Caroline's less than convenient interference. Not only did it put an end to the meeting, it also got Elijah thinking about morals and ethics. It's his least favorite thing to do nowadays. The right thing to do has never felt so much like a hindrance. He's often found himself wishing he really could be more like Niklaus. It would save him so much stress.

Caroline wasn't wrong, and that was the bad part. The werewolves do deserve to get a say. Elijah is just not sure he wants to give it to them. They've been excluded from the French Quarter and its fine politics for years now, have every reason to hold a grudge against all the other groups, all of which have grown accustomed to the larger share of control the wolves' banishment from the city granted them. Not to mention... Elijah's not feeling particularly charitable towards them at the moment, for more... personal reasons. Caroline wasn't wrong about that either.

Now all the small progress they've made has been compromised and he'll need to address the wolf issue more directly than he was expecting to at this stage. If he continues to leave them out, it'll be an open declaration against them. And if he decides to invite them in... Well.

He could really use Niklaus' input.

At the moment, though, he's waiting for someone at a rather nondescript location. A bar he'd never been to before, just a little outside the French Quarter.

When Francesca Correa called him, asking for a word about something that was very much of his interest, Elijah was mildly curious.

She's a prominent figure in the city, but not one that usually gets involved in supernatural business. Although, as it would be expected of someone with her connections, she's obviously in on the worst-kept secret in the world.

What makes her even more interesting is the fact she's a straight-out gangster.

Elijah and Niklaus dealt with many like her back in the day, when they used to control the ports and every major access to the city. For whatever reason, Elijah thought times had changed around New Orleans. Apparently not.

"Mr. Mikaelson," the elegant woman with long hair and eyes as dark as the night says, her lips curling up into an assured smile as she saunters over to him.

Francesca Correa takes a seat beside him, taps her hand once on the bar and almost immediately a drink is placed in front of her. She holds herself with the confidence of one who's not used to being crossed.

"Ms. Correa."

"Please, call me Francesca."

"We can dispense with any formalities, Ms. Correa. I know exactly who you are." She arches an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "You own the Palace Royale casino. You're one of the city's lead philanthropists. And according to my sources you're the matriarch to a rather sizeable drug trafficking empire." Elijah takes another sip from his drink. "As you can imagine, I'm a very busy man. So why don't you tell me why I'm here?"

"Whatever you may think of me, my family has been a part of the human faction for years. Which makes me uniquely qualified to take Father Kieran's place at your council."

"Oh? Care to enlighten me?"

"Do you really want a priest ahead of the kind of relations it will certainly take to keep this city under control? You know exactly what I'm talking about. Kieran doesn't have the support you might imagine. His church was closed for years. He certainly doesn't have the best interests of everyone in his heart. So you'll deal with me from now on."

Elijah peers at her studiously, holding back a smile. "Are you giving me a mandate?"

Francesca laughs, shakes her head. He has the distinct feeling of being played - and also of being seduced. He has to say, it's quite interesting to see someone give him an ultimatum and a lecherous smile almost on the same breath. "No," she drawls. "I'm giving you an ally. I want peace just as much as you do. My lifestyle - which I enjoy very much - depends on it."

Elijah grins. "Yes, I can see you're highly motivated."

"You know, I should mention. I've already spoken to the city's new mayor, the chief of police and other interested parties. And I have their blessing. I think you'll find it beneficial to have me on your side, even if it's just to prevent my less... Civil brothers," she says, looking over Elijah's shoulder. He's felt their eyes on him ages ago. "From lashing out in ways that... Could prove painful to you."

Francesca's eyes flash dangerously, and suddenly all that façade of politeness disappears. She has to know what he is, and that he can't be threatened the way other lesser vampires can. Not even removing his daylight ring would be enough to kill him, and Niklaus is even more impervious to such perils. But there is someone who, despite not being without her own strengths and ways of protecting herself, perfectly capable of snapping the neck of someone like Francesca with a flick of her wrist, is still mortal.

She's threatening Caroline.

"Have another drink. On me," she says, throwing a few crumpled bills over the counter before leaving the bar.

As if Elijah's life wasn't sufficiently complicated already.

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The rain outside has inspired Klaus.

Suddenly he sees very clearly that what his painting is missing is a dash of blue.

After Caroline's visit the day before, all he could paint was red. The only color he could see. Klaus ruined three canvases by accidentally stabbing them while being too rough with his brushes. Then he drank himself into stupor, before he ruined any more perfectly fine materials or ended up doing something he would invariably regret. Like chasing after Caroline like a dog.

At least Genevieve had the decency of staying away. He hopes she doesn't decide to show up for a good many days at least. Seeing her would immediately send him back into the worst of his moods. It's not her fault, but what can he say? Klaus has a terrible habit of projecting.

Besides, if what he wanted was a girlfriend perched on his shoulder all the time, she would definitely not be the one he'd go for.

He chooses a brush and a particular shade of blue, and when he turns back to his work, Elijah is there, arms crossed over his chest and an expression of infinite pain on his face.

"Not a fan of cerulean blue?" Klaus asks.

"Not a fan of your continued indifference," he speaks around a sigh.

"I heard of your meeting," he speaks conversationally, mixing white with the blue to lighten up the shade just a tad. "Don't beat yourself up too hard. It's difficult trying to unite a community that has a history of mutual loathing."

"Then your advice is more necessary than ever, seeing as you've obviously found a way of overcoming your differences with someone who's plotted your family's demise for months."

Klaus shakes his head, testing his mixture on a piece of paper. "You know, brother, I would've thought that my involvement with Genevieve would make you happy. Leaves you a clear path, doesn't it?"

"How long are you going to keep saying that, Niklaus? Because if that's the excuse you tell yourself to allow Caroline to live in the swamp, then you have obviously not been paying attention."

Klaus feels the stab of anger again recalling his encounter with Caroline. He hasn't told Elijah about it, and he doesn't intend to. The last thing he needs right now is his traitorous brother giving him a lecture on betrayal. The sheer hypocrisy of it is more than he can stomach at the moment.

"I'll offer a perspective, then," he starts, turning back to face Elijah. "If you want peace, you must begin with the werewolves. One hundred years ago they had a run at ruling this city. As of late, all they've had is time to watch their enemies tear down that legacy."

"All the more reason why their enemies are reluctant to bring them to the table. I do wonder, however, what your personal investment in this would be?"

Klaus shrugs. "Perhaps I just want peace. They are, after all, a part of my clan. And, as you so kindly remind me at least once a day, my child's mother has taken a liking to them. Having them as allies will only keep her and my daughter safe." He punctuates his sentence with a smile, but Elijah's eyes only sparkle in suspicion.

"And how to you propose I do that?"

Klaus puts a hand on his shoulder. "Take a page from Bienville, brother. If the table is the obstacle... Remove the table." He gives Elijah an encouraging squeeze and then moves to pour them a drink. It is, surprisingly, his first today. "Do you recall in 1720, the Governor's desperation to secure our help to build the city's first levees? We sat with him and refused his offer. And so he plied us with wine..." He offers his brother a glass. "... corseted women and raucous camaraderie until he had his yes."

Ah, yes. Klaus smiles, reminiscing. They were quite different beasts back in the 1700s. Much easier to amuse. He cannot imagine himself - and least of all Elijah - ever being tempted by the promise of beautiful women and good booze nowadays. Elijah has become way too pompous and proper for that. In his case... It has more to do with a certain blonde witch that has somehow made everyone else lose their spark in comparison. It's quite annoying, now that he thinks about it. Life was remarkably simpler back then.

Of course the times have changed, and not just for them. But the spirit is what counts. And Elijah seems to capture exactly what he means, narrowing his eyes to slits as a mischievous smile breaks onto his face.

"Niklaus," he says. "Are you suggesting that I throw a party?"

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"I'm impressed, brother," Niklaus says as they overlook the crowded courtyard.

Attendance is certainly a success. Everyone who received an invitation has turned up. Vampires, witches, humans, even the werewolves. If there's one thing Mikaelsons definitely excel at, besides family feuds, it's at throwing parties. Theirs are always lavishing, memorable affairs.

Even with very little time, Elijah has indeed managed to make something grandiose. And, so far, it's all going rather smoothly. Only the sounds of laughter and good hearted conversations travel over the loud music. The food and the booze are also, obviously, of the highest quality. So there really is no excuse for anyone to be miserable.

He only hopes they remain well behaved.

"Yes," he agrees, a little proud of himself. "Now, if I can just keep them from tearing one another to shreds."

"Well, for your sake, here's to a spectacularly boring evening." He puts his glass up in a toast and Elijah clinks his champagne flute against his brother's before they both drink.

Things haven't been this amicable between them since the completion of the Harvest ritual. It's a promising start if the two of them are getting along.

They turn back to the courtyard, both sets of eyes locked on the arched entrance where the guests are arriving. Elijah doesn't have to ask to know his brother is waiting to see the same blonde head walking in. Caroline told him she'd be here, but there's no sign of her yet. Her wolf friends, however, have arrived, and it's them exactly that Elijah catches a glimpse of as Diego bumps into one of them. A short little grouchy man by the name of Oliver. Not the nicest of people, according to Caroline, but apparently Jackson Kenner's right-hand man.

"What's up, little man?" Diego teases as Oliver stares him - well, not down, seeing as Diego is considerably taller.

"Come on, Ollie," Jackson says, pulling his friend away. "He's not even worth it."

The wolves turn their backs on Diego, who shoots daggers at them until they disappear from sight.

Elijah sighs. "Well, here we go."

He goes down the stairs, mingling with the crowd, avoiding Francesca Correa's packed looks as he tries to find Diego. He's knocking back a glass of bourbon, looking way too on edge for so early in the night.

"Diego," Elijah says, smiling when the other man turns around. "You will be polite and welcoming."

"Yeah, see. His people killed my whole family," he starts, pointing to where Oliver is staring right back at them with challenge in his eyes. "My sister bled out on the floor right next to me. The only reason I'm standing here is because Marcel came along and turned me before I bled out too. So I'm telling you right now I cannot be polite and welcoming to that."

Elijah looks at him very solemnly. He understands Diego's frustration a lot better than he imagines. Oliver is the one behind Rebekah's ambush. If Elijah didn't think there would be severe consequences, he would have wiped that despicable smugness off the man's face himself.

"I understand your anger," he says. "But there are certain overtures that need to be made if we are to find a certain degree of peace. I hope I can count with your collaboration tonight."

He arches his eyebrows at the very indignant vampire and exchanges his empty champagne flute for a new one from a passing waiter before he goes to find his next target. Honestly, the night's barely started and already Elijah feels like a babysitter.

He spots Jackson by the fountain.

"Welcome to my home," he says, shaking the other man's hand.

"I wouldn't be here if Caroline hadn't forced the issue."

"Yes, it's rather unlikely that you'll experience an outpouring of kind sentiment here. The vampires in particular view you as..." Elijah narrows his eyes, giving Jackson an appraising once over. "Well, barbaric."

Jackson's strained grin does not meet his eyes. "Caroline tells me this peace treaty is important to you."

"Yes, it certainly is. So much so, in fact, that if anyone threatened to dismantle what I'm building here, I'd destroy everything they hold dear."

Jackson presses his lips into a tight line, his eyes spitting fire at Elijah. He'll choose to take that as confirmation that he's understood the message.

"Well," he continues, smiling affably. "Have a wonderful evening."

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Klaus is bored to death.

He watches from the second floor as his brother makes his way from Diego to Jackson, both of whom stare after him with murder in their eyes, none too pleased with the chiding they obviously got. Elijah is taking his role as stand-in king of New Orleans quite seriously. While Klaus wallows in self-pity, he distracts himself by playing politics. Each to their own, he guesses.

He only feels a tiny bit guilty over his own secondary intentions. His suggestion that his brother threw a party wasn't entirely selfless. Klaus intends to hijack his brother's event to put his own personal plans in motion. What Elijah doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, Klaus is fairly certain his brother will thank him one day, once it becomes obvious that his diplomatic approach never stood a chance. Elijah's good intentions tend to make him soft, way too naive to really see the threads of war being stretched tight across the city despite his best efforts to clamor for peace.

He doesn't wish for Elijah's night to be ruined, though. In fact, he hopes his brother has a pleasant evening and can bask in his success. For now, he's fine playing the good, supportive brother, even if deep down he kind of wishes something would happen to liven up the atmosphere. As it is, everyone striving to enjoy themselves whilst heeding Elijah's requests, he doesn't feel at all like joining the celebrations. Despite his exceptionally good mood - compared to most days lately, anyway -, he still has very little cause for festivities.

He splits his attention between the werewolves and the main entrance. It's interesting that Caroline hasn't arrived with them. Maybe she won't come after all. He wouldn't be surprised, after their last encounter. It's not even like Klaus would know what to say. His list of reasons to apologize to her just keeps on growing, and it's never been his forte. Still, just the chance of seeing her...

"Looking for your baby mama?"

Klaus turns to see Genevieve. She would find her way to him sooner or later, of course. Hoping to sidestep her in a party at his own home where she's somewhat of a person of interest would be too much wishful thinking.

She looks stunning, at least, with a form fitting dress and her beautiful red hair cascading down her shoulders in waves.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of Caroline, love," he says, only a tiny hint of irony transpiring through his words.

"Well, she is the mother of your child. And you do an awful job at pretending you're not watching the door like a hawk for her. I don't know, she's pretty and all and I get that she's a talented witch, not to mention the fact she's carrying your miracle child sets her apart, but... Honestly, she just seems so... Young. And ordinary."

Klaus' lips crack into a wolfish smile. She's really bad at fishing for compliments. Genevieve's lucky he can't tell her what's really on his mind.

"Well, sometimes ordinary is a welcome respite," he offers instead.

Her eyes flash. "I thought I was your respite."

"Well, you are," he says, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You are, love. Come on. Not another word about Caroline." Before you sour the little I managed to preserve of my good mood.

Genevieve grins, almost sheepishly, and for a moment Klaus catches a glimpse of the young woman he saw in her memories, the one Rebekah betrayed and then murdered to cover up her tracks. It's sad, really. She had her entire life ahead of her, was at the peak of her beauty and youth, thought a friend would put in a good word for her with her brother, and instead ended up backstabbed and withering away in a hospital bed with an incurable and painful disease. Genevieve's a snake, no doubt, but life - or death - made her that way, which is something Klaus can certainly sympathize with. Sometimes he thinks all she truly wants is to pick up where she left off.

If he was a better person he would even feel sorry for using her, but alas… He cares very little for her struggles.

Regardless, he can at least indulge her a little, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Just as he pulls away, out of the corner of his eyes, he catches something he'd be waiting for all night. A window.

Jackson Kenner, still looking very miffed from his brief conversation with Elijah, leaving the party and going up the stairs, disappearing down a corridor that he has no business going into. The one that leads to Klaus' studio.

That's his chance.

He sidesteps Genevieve and follows the werewolf to find him nearly touching the fresh painting he's still working on.

"I'm so glad you accepted my invitation," he says, before the wolf could ruin his work.

Jackson turns around, every line of his body tense. Klaus has to say, he's been very curious about this character. Elijah tells him Caroline adores him, and almost every single time he's gone to see her, he was close. Sometimes, too close. So right off the bat, Klaus doesn't like him. But he can kind of see something in him... The useless qualities that would make someone like Caroline appreciate his friendship - which is what Klaus hopes is all there is, otherwise not all the qualities in the world will keep him from despising every fiber of poor Jackson's being.

Klaus is not a very good person, and he appreciates that, judging by Jackson's posture, he seems to be very much aware of that. It makes doing business with him easier, if he knows who he's dealing with.

"So is this where the great Klaus Mikaelson says something poignant and snaps my neck?" he asks, sticking out his chin in defiance.

Klaus smirks. "If you'd touched my painting, yes. But I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to offer you a gift."

Jackson snorts. "Out of the kindness of your vampire heart?"

"Not at all. This has nothing to do with kindness. I think we have an interest in common - and a friend who is very dear to me. But since you've mentioned. Our hearts are more similar than you might realize. You see, long before I evolved, mine beat as a werewolf," he says, placing a hand above his chest. "I know your power. I know your burden. And I'm here to take the latter away."

Jackson narrows his eyes at him. "You want to make me a hybrid," he says, not as a question. "I put my pack first," he bites out angrily before Klaus can even explain his plans. "And I'm not gonna let anything compromise my family line, especially becoming some bloodthirsty vampire parasite."

Ah, there it is... He acts like a puppy when he's around Caroline, but Klaus knew there was more to him. He's young for an alpha. Sure, half of his pack has been murdered, but werewolves are a proud kind. They'd never take a weakling push-over become their leader, especially having to survive in their wolf forms for as long as they did. That is definitely something he can work with.

"That pride..." he says, approaching Jackson with tentative steps. "That sense of loyalty. Well, that's exactly why I haven't snapped your neck yet."

"Well, if you're not gonna kill me, then what the hell do you want?"

"Only to help you take back the city that was taken from you. How's that for poignant?" Klaus smiles, arching his eyebrows at Jacksons.

"Why would I trust someone who's conspiring behind his own brother's back?"

"You've got it all wrong, mate. I'm not trying to undermine Elijah's venture. I'm supporting his vision. Vampires destroy life to survive, witches are only as powerful as their dead, but the werewolves have strived because their strength comes from family unity. You currently have my unborn child and her mother as your guests, and I prize their safety very much. And that's exactly what that unity can offer. My daughter is part werewolf, too, and my blood runs in the veins of the wolves in the Bayou."

Something wavers in Jackson's straight posture, and Klaus realizes he finally has his attention. So he presses on.

"The painful truth is... Vampires are the antithesis of unity."

"So, what? After a thousand years, you're finally ready to embrace the other half of your family tree? Has it occurred to you that maybe the other half doesn't want you?"

"Oh, they will. Once they return to the Quarter."

Klaus brushes by Jackson, going into the adjacent room, straight to his desk. He opens a little wooden box where he keeps some valuable items, one of which is inside a little velvet pouch.

"You got a plan to back that up?" Jackson questions.

"Don't know how much of my family's history Caroline has shared with you, but my mother was a very powerful witch. I watched her craft all manner of magical items, but her most prized possession..." he says, emptying the pouch on the palm of his hand. "Was this ring. I hadn't seen it for a thousand years and it turned up hanging around the neck of a werewolf in the Bayou, a direct descendant of my biological father. I believe she gave him this ring as a way of freeing him."

"How so?"

"Daylight rings shield vampires from the sun, so why not a moonlight ring to protect werewolves from the curse? Think about it... No more breaking bones, no more losing control to the beast within."

Jackson remains quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on the ring. "What do I have to do?"

For the first time in weeks, a huge satisfied smile breaks onto Klaus' face. Perhaps Caroline does have a good reason to enjoy this fellow, after all.

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Caroline told Jackson to take the rest of his entourage and go ahead without her.

Werewolves should be seen by the other factions as representing themselves, rather than being chaperoned by a witch. It was bad enough that she was the one to break into Elijah's council meeting; it caused all sorts of comments, and the werewolves need to be seen as a strong unit by themselves. To have their image associated with her and, by consequence, with the Mikaelsons, won't help them or Elijah's attempts at peace. The others might think they're being favored.

And she really meant every word. It's a solid, honest reason for them to show up at this potential death match arena without her. But the truth is.. She could use the extra time to get ready. And anyway, Eve offered to drive her to the French Quarter later, so it's all good.

There was once a time when parties were Caroline's favorite thing in the world. She would think about her looks days in advance, sometimes weeks, was always the one out of her friends who put most thought into her outfits for school dances. Her Jackie O' style for the 60s dance is one she's still very proud of. The 20s dance also. She was 100% against it, but she kinda loved that dress and the hair. It suited her. Not that she'd ever tell Rebekah that. Well, on second thought, maybe now she would.

She danced with Klaus that night, back when she still hated his guts. He told her then that the small town life and the small town boyfriend would never be enough for her, that she'd go knocking on his door one day, begging him to show her the world. It sounded so absurd she couldn't even come up with an appropriate answer, just laughed in his face. It's funny to think how life is. She wanted to drag his face on asphalt that night, then she got pregnant with his baby, was forced to leave her small town life behind, now she hates him again. Funny.

Marcel's masquerade ball aside, which she went practically under cover, this is the first social event she's attending officially since she came to New Orleans. Elijah said there was no dress code, but Elijah says that because he wears a suit to go grocery shopping. Considering he's the one throwing the bash, it's safe to say he expects everyone to look at least as fancy as he does on a regular day.

Most of Caroline's clothes simply don't fit her anymore, so finding something to wear is a bit of a challenge, but when she finally manages to squeeze into a tight fitting black dress she hadn't seen in ages, she is proud of herself. A bit too tight around the waist, and her gigantic belly is definitely very in your face in it, but when she looks in the mirror, she finds that she doesn't really hate it. Actually, she kind of looks good. And not in a pregnant woman way. She feels sexy in her tight dress highlighting all the eight months of life growing inside of her.

Her boobs look amazing. She's never had those in her life. Thank you, baby girl.

"You look gorgeous," Eve says when she puts on the high heels she hasn't worn since Marcel's masquerade and finishes touching up her make up. She missed seeing herself with big red lips.

"Are you sure? Because if I look ridiculous with this much volume right here, this is the time to tell me."

Eve rolls her eyes. "You'll be the prettiest girl there."

She scoffs. "Right. I'm the only girl you know who'll be there."

"I stand by my opinion."

"Let's just go before I change my mind."

All the way to the compound, Caroline feels a lot more antsy than strictly necessary. She's just a regular guest, not even a person of interest in Elijah's game of thrones. She's representing a faction of one. Well, two. So, really. She's just going for the quality food. Why should she be nervous?

She's reminded of the reason shortly after she arrives.

Ten minutes up on her heels and already her swollen ankles are starting to kill her. She can't drink, so she starts shoving everything she sees into her mouth, and the sensation that her dress is about to burst open only grows. All that sexiness goes away pretty fast and she's questioning her stupid decision to dress up like this when she spots Klaus on the second floor, talking to Genevieve.

That is why she did all this. Because she's almost eight months pregnant, stranded in the Bayou, while Klaus' new girlfriend is a snake who looks hot.

Yes, she's bitter. Sue her.

Caroline's very much aware of the fact that she's blatantly staring at them, but they don't even seem to take notice. Klaus has his back to her as he talks to Genevieve, and when he touches her shoulder and pulls her close to place a kiss on her cheek, Caroline feels fire lick her up inside.

A waiter walks by carrying a tray of champagne flutes and she goes straight to grab one before she remembers she can't. Honestly, doing this without alcohol is gonna be impossible. She should've thought this through before coming here tonight.

"You are a vision."

She whips around to find Elijah, a warm smile on his lips and that same appraising look in his eyes that always made her feel awkward and self-conscious. Incidentally, it happens to be very welcome right now.

"Thank you," she says, grinning. "I'd say you look good, too, but you dress up like that pretty much every day."

"Are you saying I look good every day?"

"You're not that modest, Elijah."

"Well, it's always good to get validation."

"In that case, you look very handsome, sir."

He offers her a charming lopsided smile. "Now, would you care to dance?"

She considers how much dancing she can do in those shoes for about five seconds before deciding to say screw it. If she has to keep her feet up for a week after tonight, so be it.

Elijah leads her to the middle of the makeshift dance floor by the stage where the musicians are, places her hand on his shoulder, takes her other hand in his and puts his other one on the small of her back.

This is exactly the kind of thing that would've never happened a month ago. Klaus' wrath would know no boundaries then. Now that he has his attention all turned to Genevieve, Caroline doesn't even mind pressing closer to Elijah. Well, she wouldn't mind, if it was actually possible for her to get close to anyone with the extra volume in her midsection.

"You've outdone yourself," she says. "The party is a success. And you even got your brother to come out of his bedroom to play."

"Yes, it seems only a sizeable soiree is enough to tear my brother away from his efforts at the easel."

Caroline smiles wanly. "That, and a beautiful red-headed witch."

Elijah's mouth makes a silent Oh. "You've heard of Genevieve."

"I've more than heard. I had the pleasure of walking in on them. Lovely lingerie." The bitchiness in her voice is slightly embarrassing, she thinks, even though she has every right to it. "You mentioned how sad and depressed and reclusive your brother was, but you conveniently failed to mention he somehow found himself a girlfriend despite all that gloominess."

"Caroline, Niklaus is -"

"A grown man, Elijah," she cuts him off. "Who doesn't need you to defend his debatable honor. Let him stand by his choices. He's allowed to sleep with whomever he wants. Even backstabbing bitches, if that's what he goes for now."

Elijah sighs, a visibly pained look on his face. Caroline firmly believes that the reason Elijah never said anything was to not aggravate her bitter feelings towards his brother any further. Klaus really doesn't appreciate the brother he has enough. Stefan would probably kill to be exchange brothers. If Elijah was anything more like Damon, he would've jumped headfirst into the opportunity to torch every feeling Caroline's ever had for Klaus, for good. Not that Klaus needs any help with that, mind you.

"Honestly, try as I might, I have no idea what goes through my brother's insidious skull. I hope his daughter inherits her mother's... Everything."

He spins Caroline around and then pulls her back in one fluid move. She laughs. "Wow, so Klaus isn't the only Mikaelson with moves."

"Far from it. He's probably the worst of us all."

"Oh?" she arches her eyebrows at him, amused. "If I wasn't so pregnant I'd let you show me."

"Is it that uncomfortable?"

"You have no idea." They fall back into a slow sway that is far gentler on Caroline's legs, although not half as fun. "It is weird being back here like this."

"Not unpleasant, I hope."

She smiles softly at him. "Not entirely."

"Are you entirely sure you shouldn't be here with us?"

"You. Me. Klaus. And Klaus' girlfriend. What could possibly go wrong?"

"She's not his girlfriend. I don't even think he particularly likes her."

"He didn't seem bothered at all to have her rubbing her boobs all over him."

"The second you return, Caroline, he will be done with her. Niklaus only ever had eyes for you."

"That's not even the point. This is his house, he should be allowed to bring whoever he wants home. And I reserve myself the right to avoid any unpleasant run-ins with them."

"I don't feel comfortable with you out there."

Caroline scoffs, her interest in the conversation quickly declining. "Really? Is this because of the church?"

"This is because I worry about you and the more you find yourself involved in this city's insanity, the more at risk you will be."

"Haven't you understood yet that I'm not going to sit on a rocking chair, knitting, while you, powerful men, discuss the serious business?"

"Can I have a minute, Caroline?" Jackson cuts in.

"You can have it later," Elijah replies, curtly.

"Actually," Caroline lets go of his hand and takes a step back. "He can have this dance."

She takes Jackson's arm and pulls him a little further into the dance floor before placing her hands on his shoulders. He puts his on both sides of her waist and gives her an odd, considering look as they start to move. Caroline sees Elijah staring longingly at her, barely disguising his dislike of Jackson, before walking away.

"Everything all right?" Jackson asks.

Caroline plasters a smile on her lips. "Yeah. Fine. Just... Talking about unpleasant politics."

"How can you be thinking about the city right now when you look that beautiful?" Jackson says, grinning.

Caroline chuckles. "Smooth! Well played, my friend." She pulls slightly closer to Jackson, determined to salvage some of her evening by enjoying at least one dance with someone who's not out to annoy her all the freaking time.

He may not be as sure-footed or have the same flair as a Mikaelson on a dance floor, but Jackson's far easier to be around right now. That's all she could ask for.

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Once he achieves his primary goal of the evening - to approach the Crescents' alpha about his plans - Klaus decides he's no longer interested in human interaction and abandons the party in favor of having a lonely drink in his private rooms.

Elijah never comes to find him, which tells him his poor brother probably has a handful trying to control his guests. Even though the majority of the people seemed to be genuinely having an honest good time getting wasted on their expensive booze, anyone paying closer attention could feel the thickening tension.

He's starting to think that Elijah will actually manage without any major incidents when the music is cut off and the distinctive sounds of a wrathful altercation travels all the way to the second floor. In a blink, Klaus is out again. It seems things just got more interesting.

He doesn't know who started it, but the scene he comes to is positively indecent in the best possible way. Elijah has Oliver pinned to a table, twisting his arm behind his back, while Jackson points a wooden stake to Diego's heart. Klaus' face lights up like a child's on Christmas Eve as he takes a champagne flute to comfortably watch the confrontation unfold. He hopes Elijah tears the heart out of that little man. Then Jackson will certainly drive that stake through Diego's chest. Maybe a good showdown is exactly what this city needs.

Well, he could certainly use some excitement. This is better than theater.

"What are you waiting for?" All heads turn to the staircase, where Caroline is sending a cold, hard look at Elijah. "Kill him," she says, shrugging nonchalantly.

Klaus is momentarily thrown, his mouth going suddenly dry at the sight of her. He didn't know she'd arrived, or he wouldn't have hid in his room. Especially not when she looks... Absolutely stunning, like something out of a dream. He glimpses the defiance in her cobalt eyes, hard as rocks and alight with an intensity that's always knocked the air off his lungs. Something tightens in his chest and time seems to slow down as she makes her way down the steps.

She is as furious as she is beautiful.

Apprehension passes through the crowd, everyone staying very still, a hush descending, but Caroline's eyes never waver.

"Kill him, Elijah," she repeats. "I mean, it's not like he doesn't deserve to die."

"Shouldn't you intervene or something?" someone whispers behind him.

"Why would I?" he asks. "This party just got interesting."

"I mean, it was Oliver who handed Rebekah over to the witches so they could torture her," Caroline continues, a light frown on her face. "But then again, wasn't it Diego who led a werewolf massacre last month? And the witches cursed the wolves, tortured Rebekah, tried to kill me and Jackson, while the humans stood back and let it all happen. So when you think about it... You can build a strong case to why everyone here deserves to die."

"Are you approaching a point?" Elijah demands, clearly vexed.

"My point, Elijah, is that if we can't all learn how to get along, then what is the point of all this? Why throw this party? Just to pretend that we can be civilized when we know the second we walk out that door, there'll be anarchy? I don't know about you, but I'm really sick of all that. So let's just kill each other and get it over with. At least then we'll know where we all stand."

There's something hypnotizing in the way Caroline speaks, it commands the entire place. Her voice crackles through the tension with authority, reverberating across the courtyard, making it impossible not to pay attention. Everyone hangs onto her every word and Klaus has no doubt that she could order those people to do whatever she wants. If she declares war, they'll all be each other's throats. If she tells them to sit still, they will. There's an aura of confidence around her that is simply inescapable.

Klaus has always known she is intelligent, assertive and a comfortable leader, always at the helm of the ship. She's fearless, driven, loyal to her causes, and he's admired all that about her almost from the moment they met. But right now she is a queen among commoners.

That's how she's bearing herself, whether she knows it or not. It's the energy she's exuding. The kind of respect she's earning. And he is mesmerized. Klaus didn't think it was possible for him to be any more attracted to her than he already is, but the pull is unrestrainable right now. He's bewitched.

He drove her away and did absolutely nothing for an entire month to get her back, believing she'd be safer in the Bayou and better off without him. And while he shut himself in, the rest of the world took notice.

Elijah and Jackson have the same exact stupefied look on their faces, a blend of adoration and reverence, like there's nothing they wouldn't do for her. Even kill, or spare an enemy's life. Klaus knows the feeling intimately, and he doesn't doubt he bears the same idiotic expression right now.

He let her stay in the Bayou while he lured Genevieve to win her trust because he didn't want Caroline to get involved, and because he couldn't bear to have her only half-present in his life, he stayed 100% absent from hers. And all the while, he's been pushing her closer to yet another suitor. How can he even blame Jackson, or anyone else, for that matter, when she's so clearly the brightest light in this entire place? In this entire city.

Elijah lets go of Oliver almost at the same time Jackson takes a step back from Diego, and the crowd lets out a collective breath.

There is no way to keep Caroline excluded from the city's politics, Klaus realizes now. She was born for this. To rule.

She is the queen New Orleans should have. His queen.

If only he hadn't lost her...

How could anyone ever have her and let her go?

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Well, tonight was definitely something.

Despite the aching feet, the general irritation and the near-deaths, Caroline would say the outcome was mostly positive. Her improvised speech seems to have made an impact, and Elijah said the treaty will finally be signed - by all the factions, including the werewolves. It's not every day you get to call out a bunch of supernatural grown-ass men on their bullshit. She has to say... It felt good.

Jackson wanted her to stay with him and Oliver to oversee the treaty, but she is done with tonight, thank you very much. All Caroline wants now is to go back to her cozy cabin, get out of this dress and -

"Not even a hello, love?"

She stops as she's putting on her coat and sighs wearily.

When she arrived, all she wanted was for Klaus to notice her. Now that she's about to leave, his voice is the last thing she wanted to hear. Just her luck.

She turns around to find a docile grin on his face. It doesn't escape her that he looks... Well, irritatingly good. Much better than he did the other day, with all those grumpy lines wiped off his face and his stubble better trimmed. He even put on a suit for Elijah's bash, one of those exotic choices that wouldn't flatter anyone but that seems oddly fitting on him. She can't imagine Elijah wearing a velvety black jacket and a yellow patterned tie, but Klaus looks great.

And Caroline hates it very much. People as annoying as him shouldn't be allowed to be so pretty.

So what if she's being a little petty? It's been a long month.

"Has anyone told you you look ravishing?" he asks.

Caroline folds her arms, sticking up her chin. "As a matter of fact, yes."

"And has anyone told you you looked even more alluring as you spoke down on those rascals?"

She narrows her eyes at him. "Careful, there. Wouldn't want your girlfriend getting the wrong idea."

Klaus faces away from her, down, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looks guilty, almost bashfully so. Miles away from the attitude he had when she caught them together the other day. Elijah's feeble defense of his brother suddenly springs to mind, and she wonders if Klaus wasn't faking that bravado for the sake of Genevieve, if he really does have an ulterior motive.

Well, it doesn't matter, anyway. Whatever his reasons, he still slept with her. So what if they're not even together, have technically never really been, and she has no claims over Klaus? She still allows herself the right to be pissed off.

And in any case, she doesn't like Genevieve. Never did, never will.

Call her jealous. She is. And she doesn't give a damn.

"What did you want the other day?" he asks.

"Not important."

"It was important enough to bring you all the way here."

"Yeah, and then I realized it was a mistake."

"Caroline... Genevieve and I..." he starts. "It's not what you think."

"Oh? So you're not screwing her?" He presses his lips together. "Right. So it is exactly what I think."

"It's... complicated."

"No, it's not. And let me stop you right there. You don't owe me explanations. Whatever my personal feelings for this city's witches may be, it's your life. You're a big boy. Date whoever you want."

"I'm not dating her," he grits out.

"Whatever it is that you're doing, it's not my problem. Just know that I'm not letting my daughter anywhere near that woman, so if that's going to be her step-mom, you better be prepared to visit - alone - on the weekends."

"Caroline -"

"My feet are killing me, Klaus. I have to go."

She whips around to leave, but he flashes forward and holds her arm. "Please," he says quietly. "I just want to know that you're alright."

Caroline faces him. Her heartbeats annoyingly pick up due to the sudden proximity, but her eyes are spitting fire. "You don't have to pretend that you care."

"Of course I care."

"Funny. That's not what it seemed like when you went for a whole month without saying hi. Not a visit, not a phone call, not even a note. Nothing. Then of course you've been busy. But I thought you would've at least had a minute to check up on your daughter."

"I spoke to your doctor. Camille told me about your... emergency consult." He swallows, his face a mask of regret. "She said you'd been under a lot of stress, that you needed rest, peace. So I figured... I was probably the last person you wanted to see."

Caroline feels a rush of anger forming inside of her. She suddenly wants to scream. How can he be so freaking clueless? Yes, she wanted to be given space, but not to be completely forgotten. Elijah seems to have picked up on it fairly easily. She can't imagine Klaus didn't as well. And maybe she was angrier at him than she was at everyone else. So what? It was still his job to apologize. To knock on her door a million times until she finally decided to let him in. He's the father of her child. If he thinks the best thing to do in a situation like this is to abandon her, then what the hell is she even doing here? What was the point of resisting in New Orleans for all those months?

"You're right," she says. "You are the last person I want to see. Or speak to. So thank you for staying away. Big favor." The words are so blatantly untrue she has to hold back from letting her voice crack at the end, but she carries an edge to her tone she's not entirely sorry for, even as it registers on his face.

Caroline casts him off. "Good night, Klaus," and stalks away.

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Caroline's eyes are fierce like sparks under the feeble light, scorching. And then she turns away, and all he's left with is that cold emptiness again, his constant companion for over a month now.

He remembers a time when he used to think that Caroline turning her back on him was amusing. A challenge. She acted like she couldn't stand the sight of him, but he knew better. She wasn't as indifferent as she wanted everyone to believe. Now... He's not sure she wants to be chased anymore. Caroline walking away from him with such purpose breaks the little that is left of his heart.

Part of him wants to stop her. Grab her, drag her back inside, lock her up in one of the rooms. Force her to stay and to listen. Not long ago, he wouldn't duel much over the ethics of doing it, would just claim to have the best interests of his daughter at heart. And it wouldn't be entirely untrue. But a fire has gone out inside of him. He was afraid of ruining her before, now he's certain that he will. He hurt her, and he won't ever forget the fear in her eyes at the cemetery. What it did to him, knowing that he was the one responsible for it... Not the witches, the wolves, not the vampires; him, the father of her child.

He senses Elijah's presence before his brother opens his mouth.

"Why didn't you tell her the truth?" he asks.

"What truth?"

"That every single night, for the past month, when you think no one's paying attention, you sneak out and drive all the way to the Bayou. And while you think no one can see you, you watch her."

A muscle twitches on Klaus' jaw. "Stalking me, brother?" he inquires, turning to Elijah. He thought he was being discreet.

"Would you really prefer to have her think you don't care?"

"The further away from me she is, the safer she'll be," he says, turning his back to return to the misery that awaits him in the bottle of scotch he left in his room. "Great party, brother."

"We'll be signing the treaty in a moment," Elijah announces. "I'm just waiting for everyone else to leave. I would like you to be there."

"Why? You can do it on our behalf."

"Brother, I am not a fool. It's clear to me you're not as disinterested as you'd like me to believe. If there's no peace between us, how can we expect others to follow suit?"

Klaus regards Elijah studiously for a moment. "Fine. If it'll make you happy, I'll sign it. But I assure you this city's inhabitants will not adhere to this agreement."

"You are welcome to wager against me, Niklaus," he says, fixing his tie and then brushing by him. "You will lose."

TBC

---

A/N: WELL. I hope nobody wants to stake me after reading this. I TOLD YOU IT WOULD HAPPEN. I hope Klaus' reasons were well enough explained, even if it's still dumb (haven't we established by now that Klaus does not think like a normal human being? He always has a SUPER PLAN™). Have to say I kind of enjoyed writing this chapter a lot more than I probably should. All the complicated feelings running around were fun to write. lol Also, a party is kind of so very TVD S3, isn't it? The good ol' days...

And yes, I am gary-stuing the shit out of Jackson. I love him and I'm not even sorry. I'm 100% making him out to be awesome. lol So bad I'm not going into Season 2 or you guys would be so SCREWED. lol (In the best possible way, obviously. ❤)

I would still very much love to hear your opinions, outraged or not, just please keep it respectful. :) Remember I'm not Julie Plec, this is fanfiction and also I'm very tired. Your comments are pretty much keeping me going at this point, so thank you SO MUCH to everyone who's been kind enough to drop me a note on , AO3 or over tumblr. ❤ You guys are the sweetest and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it, seriously. I'm wearing a neck brace here just to post this, it's how much I appreciate you all. ❤❤