A/N- Here we go. Let me know what you think, I've never written a historical Klaroline that requires actual research before and it takes time and effort, so let me know if there is room for improvement.


Used as she was to sleeping on camp beds, surrounded by her men and sometimes in open fields with only her cloak as cover, Caroline found the sleeping couch in Elijah's house rather too soft and luxurious to pass the night comfortably.

She gave up early in the morning and instead rummaged through her chest that Enzo had had sent over from the ship.

Having spent her life as a soldier, she had very few personal possessions and as a woman in the army, had even fewer feminine clothes. She hadn't wanted fellow soldiers to look at her and see a girl to be seduced or ravaged. And surprisingly, very few had tried.

Her fighting skills aside, she was certain that the commanding officers she had trained and served under had had something to do with that, and Enzo had always been willing to warn anyone who was foolhardy enough to ignore them.

Not that he needed to physically defend her honor, but he considered it a kindness to warn his fellow men that Caroline could throw a dagger better than anyone he'd seen before.

She smiles as she takes her dagger, one she'd claimed in her first battle, and slips it under the folds of her yellow stola, into her tunic, in the scabbard on her thigh.

Feeling more properly clothed now, she opens the door to her room and slides silently through the villa, peeking into rooms curiously until she finds Elijah's study.

And observing it, she can see why the Pharaoh whose lands contained the famed Library of Alexandria had been able to seduce this man so easily.

An entire wall consists of shelves filled with scrolls, a fresco of the heavens has been painted onto another and the sleep couch and the candle holder in the corner made Caroline suspect that Elijah often read deep into the night.

She looks at his desk and the multitude of parchment scattered across it.

It reminded her of the Emperor's own study.

How often had she and her father climbed the Palatine and entered the villa, walked past the petitioners and into the Emperor's study where the two men would embrace and sit down to talk while she was sent to play with Niklaus?

It seemed like every day of her childhood had been spent going first into the study and then into the garden until the day when she'd seen her father climb the steps and everything had just stopped.

No more playing.

No more laughter.

No more family.

She shudders and clutches at the talisman around her neck before she backs out of the room and flags down one of the slaves, having them bring her food to break her fast.

The damn asp slithers out as the slaves brings the bread, dates and honey and the poor man nearly shrieks as it rears its head and looks up at Caroline,

"I don't care whose snake you are," she warns it, "I see a hint of fang and I will nail you to the wall."

"Caroline, please," Elijah's civilized voice calls softly as he walks into the room, "I am sure the creature was simply curious."

He lies down on the couch and puts his hand on the ground, letting the asp climb up his arm and settle around his bicep.

Caroline wants to make several suggestions about the asp and its curiosity but she is Elijah's guest and it would be rude, so instead she makes more pleasant conversation,

"Will you be attending the games today?" she asks and he shrugs,

"Most likely," he sighs, with a longing glance to his study, "But there is a temple to Isis in Rome, I shall be going there first to meet with the priestess, no doubt she will carry messages from Katherine to myself."

Caroline inhaled sharply through her teeth, "Is that a good idea?" she asks cautiously,

"To send your letters so secretly? Is it not better to send them by regular messenger, where anyone and everyone can read them?"

He glances at her curiously, "Most definitely," he allows, "And I shall do so, but the messages I speak of in this instance cannot be written in ink but with fire and powders from Asia minor."

She shivers in spite of the warm day and leans back, "You mean magic?"

He nods, "Magic. I shall write to my wife, swearing my eternal devotion and speak it to her daily."

He pops a date in his mouth and grins, "I am the consort of Egypt but truly, I am no conspirator and plan no evil, I wish only for my wife and for all the secrets of the universe to be revealed to me."

She chuckles and sits up to wash her hands,

"What about you?" he asks as she stands, "What do you wish for, young Caroline?"

She shrugs, "Victory."


The streets were packed with people pushing and shoving against one another, shouting, plying their trades, most of them trying to get somewhere quickly.

Just like her.

She isn't used to the push of the citizens trying to reach their destination, it is nothing like the ordered chaos of an army advancing in battle, where one can let themselves be carried forward, instead everyone seemed to be headed in a different direction.

Fortunately, Caroline seemed to pick the stream that was headed to the Colosseum.

The magnificent structure, she stands for a moment in admiration as she listens to various people gossip about the events planned today.

Was it to be flooded for an epic sea battle?

Was there one of every creature gathered from around the world, to be released at once to fight to the death?

Was the most famous of gladiators, Malachi, to fight today?

She is smiling in the midst of this confusion, her head turning one hundred different directions to observe the citizens pushing and rushing to gain seats when a slave comes forward and taps her arm,

"Legate, this way please," he holds out an arm, "I was asked to take you to the Emperor."

She follows him up the steps into the Imperial Podium, where a crowd is already bustling about, senators and women are chatting and laughing as they drink wine and place bets.

Ansel is leaning against the side of the podium, in discussion with a man but he nods to her, acknowledging her arrival and jerks his head to the side, she follows the direction and sees Niklaus on the steps, in deep conversation with an African prince that she'd heard was in Rome to set up trade routes.

She smilingly steps towards him when a beautiful woman steps in her path.

Her hair is a fiery red and her face resembles a sculpture, "Are you Caroline?" she asks eagerly, holding out her arms and Caroline's smile doesn't falter.

"Yes, and you are?"

"Genevieve," she introduces herself, "Wife of the Senator Tristan, and the ladies and I are ever so excited to meet you."

"Oh,"

She looks over her shoulder and sees that the matrons and daughters of Rome are unabashedly watching them both and she voices her confusion, "Why?"

Genevieve giggles, "So you can tell us about the Queen of Egypt of course!"

The woman takes her arm and forcibly steers her into the crowd of women,

"You must tell us everything about her! Half the mothers of Rome have been trying to marry their daughters to Elijah for years without luck and now, tell us, is she so very beautiful?"

"I heard her hair is the very color of gold." One woman says eagerly,

"I was told that her breasts are as big as lettuces." Offers another,

She had been lured into an ambush.

But one that was unlikely to be fatal.

She clasps her hands, purses her lips and thinks, "Her hair isn't golden, it's brown and her eyes are the same color, her figure is fine but a little thin…" she pauses and bites her lower lip,

"The Pharaoh is beautiful but it's more than that, the very way she holds herself, the way she speaks, her wit and her charm are what enthral men."

"Just men?" Genevieve asks, her tone laden with mischief and another matron shrieks in scandalized delight and smacks her arm,

"Is it true that she practices magic?" one of the daughters asks excitedly and Caroline shrugs,

"Her priestesses do and perhaps she does as well but I never saw her perform any magic while I was there."

"And what about her baths?" Genevieve asks but they are interrupted,

"Excuse me," Niklaus appears at Caroline's shoulder and she turns her head to look at him,

"Caroline, the games are about to start, we should all take our seats."

She almost breathes a sigh of relief, graciously following Niklaus to where Elijah was already sitting on a bench near Ansel and they settled in,

"Thank-you," she laughs, "If I'd had to try and explain the Pharaoh's bathing habits I would never have got away from those women."

He grins, "Perhaps you could tell me what's so fascinating about them?"

"She shall do nothing of the sort." Elijah counters, crossly,

"My wife's bathing habits are perfectly suitable for a woman of her position and not something to be discussed all over Rome!"

Caroline disagreed with part of that statement but chooses to remain silent, focusing instead on the arena before her.

"What shall be first?" she asks and Niklaus leans forward with her, their shoulders touching and both of them acknowledge the contact but otherwise ignore it.

"The chariot race."


Hours later, when the sand of the arena was covered in the blood and sweat of gladiators and ferocious animals, the last of whom had been triumphant and was now being dragged out so the next game could begin, Caroline leans back and laughs at a witty jest made by Elijah, her voice raspy from the cheering and shouting of the day.

The sun is warm, almost hot upon their heads and necks but she has barely noticed, the day has been spent placing bets with Niklaus, drinking wine and watching the various entertainments.

She takes another cup of wine and smirks when she turns to Elijah and sees how valiantly he was trying to fight his boredom.

Trying and failing.

People were milling about in the podium, coming and going, paying their respects to the Emperor and to his son, the area was crowded and nobody would notice one man leaving.

She points this out to Elijah who looks around, as if to confirm her theory before slowly climbing to his feet,

"Will you tell the Emperor?" he requests and she nods, looking down into the arena and judging that nothing interesting was about to happen, so she stands and makes her way to Ansel.

As she does, she passes Niklaus and notices something strange.

Something in the corner of her eye that she can't quite place or ignore and she falters in her step, pausing to look and try and figure out what it was that had apprehension crawling up her back.

Then she sees it.

"Niklaus, down!" she cries as she forces her way through the crowd, knocking people aside as she makes her way towards him.

He has heard her cry and realizes that something is wrong, beginning to look around even as he's crouching.

He's not moving fast enough but it doesn't matter. Caroline has her dagger in her hand and throws it, sending it cutting through the air before it lodges itself in his throat.

The throat of the slave.

Or the man dressed as one anyway.

He stumbles backward as people begin to shout and there's a clatter as the dagger he himself was holding falls to the floor.

The dagger with which he'd intended to kill the Emperor's son.

The Praetorian guard move in to protect the Emperor and Caroline goes to Niklaus, to stand by his side and retrieve her dagger when her arm is grabbed and she is yanked backwards by a senator.

"Traitor!" he shouts above the furore, "This woman just attempted to kill a member of the royal family!"

Caroline shakes her head and blinks in confusion, "What?! I just saved Niklaus' life!"

The man leans his face close to hers and screams, "I saw you throw that dagger, we all saw you throw that dagger! You threw it at the Emperor's own son."

She scoffs in disgust and looks to the crowd for help, for support, but she sees them looking to the slave and then back to her. That man was dead, she was very much alive and very much her father's daughter. She could see the wheels turning in their heads.

Traitor.

Traitor.

To the Steps!

A voice cries out, one that is firm in its resolve and brooks no argument.

"Had Caroline thrown that dagger at the Emperor's son, he would be dead right now," he says, hidden by the crowd but they slowly part to make way for him, to see him as he speaks,

"I have seen her throw that dagger more times than I can count and she has never yet missed her mark, ergo, she was not aiming for the Emperor's son, but his would-be assassin."

Alaric bends down and pulls her dagger from the man's throat, wiping it on his tunic before handing it back to her, "I trained her myself, this legate is no traitor."

She takes the dagger and salutes him, violently shoving off the man holding her and stepping away from him, "Thank-you, Proconsul."

He grins and then looks around, "Take the boy home, there might yet be danger here."

She nods and goes to Niklaus, closing her hand around his forearm and leading him to the praetorian guard.

Emperor Ansel turns to the guard as they approach, "Escort my son home, I wish to see the end of the games."

The guard opens his mouth to protest but Ansel waves him away and draws Caroline in for an embrace,

"Thank the gods that you were watching my son," he announces, before speaking in a barely audible tone,

"I cannot let Rome see my fear, take my son home and keep him safe."

"I will." She swears.


"Is this the first time?" she demands once she has seen Niklaus safely home through the streets, up the Palatine and into his father's villa. She does not stop until they are in the garden and even then, she decides that the study would be a safer place to talk.

"The first time somebody has tried to kill me?" Niklaus asks, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms, "If it is not then it is a rather unpleasant revelation to me."

He is clearly shaken and Caroline recalls that she's not speaking to a fellow soldier, but a man who had never seen war, or death outside of the Colosseum.

"Are you alright?"

He shrugs and straightens up, "Thank-you for saving my life, Caroline, although…" his tone becomes shaky,

"When you were coming towards me, I was aware that something was wrong. I could see your far on your face, but I was not afraid, because I knew you would save me."

That trust. That faith.

She remembered when they were children, when evening fell and it was time for her and her father to go home.

They would barely even bid farewell to one other because they had always known that they would see each other tomorrow.

She had never said goodbye to him.

If he had died today…

Without thinking she lunges forward, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close, hugging him as tightly as she can, needing to feel him alive.

His arms snake around her back, like iron pressing her against him, their eyes squeezed shut and neither of them can breathe.

"I knew you would not let any harm come to me," he whispers and she shivers at the sensation of his breath on her ear, "Why is that?"

She opens her eyes and tries to lean back but he doesn't release her and she suddenly realizes that this is the first time that she's ever embraced a man without her armor on.

The clothing between them feels flimsy, offering no protection at all as she feels her breasts pressed against his hard chest and her cheeks flame as her eyes drop self-consciously.

"My protector," Niklaus whispers, "My beautiful Minerva."

His tongue darts out to lick his lips and she inhales sharply, entranced by that gesture and he lowers his face close to hers.

She knows that he's going to kiss her and a thrill of fear runs through her, she turns her face away, biting her lip. He hesitates only a moment before his hand leaves her back and strokes her hair away from her neck, placing his lips in the hollow before her collarbone.

"Oh." The word escapes her, his lips are hot and wet on her skin and the sensation is very pleasant.

She runs her hands across his shoulders, her fingers dragging on his tunic and searching up his neck for his hair, playing with the gold silken curls she finds there. He bends her slightly and she plants her feet firmly on the floor, pushing up and delighting in the feel of his hard body against hers.

When he pulls away from her neck, his bright blue eyes find hers and she nods, granting him permission to kiss her.

But she's still rendered breathless with surprise when he does.

She's breathless even before his tongue slips inside her mouth. She's smiling even though it makes kissing him so much the harder and she wants to laugh and clap her hands even though either act would mean that she would have to stop what they were doing.

And she doesn't want to.

Not until he presses her against the marble wall and begins fumbling for the fibula clasp on her shoulder with one hand while the other squeezes her hip and begins moving north.

She breaks the kiss and puts her hands on his chest to hold him back when he would kiss her again. She closes her eyes and takes steady breaths.

"Come to my bed," he murmurs, his voice rough and heavy, "Or shall we go to yours?"

She makes a small sound of protest and shakes her head, "No, we can't."

He chuckles and his hand reaches up to palm her right breast and she presses into it, biting her lip and groaning when he squeezes it through the fabric.

"Of course we can," He coaxes, "And we both want to."

"No," she pushes him away, more firmly this time,

"Emperor's sons do not fuck the traitor's daughter."

He goes as cold and still as if she'd thrown a bucket of freezing water on him.

"You are not…" he begins and she blinks,

"Not what? The daughter of William the traitor? If I'm not his daughter than I am Ansel's and this is even greater a crime."

He releases her and shakes his head, frowning in displeasure and she takes the moment to try to fix her appearance, to run her hands through her hair and reattach her fibula,

"My father welcomed you back with open arms," he points out, "Do you honestly think he bares you any ill will? He loves you Caroline, he will not let any Roman speak of you as being of traitor's blood."

She shrugs and wishes she were wearing her armor, "Silence is not the same as innocence. I am still a Forbes."

She has ruined the innocence of the moment, the passion and when he reaches for her she slips past him, striding down the hall and when she hears his footsteps behind her, she breaks into a run.

He hesitates for a second but that is all she needs, he is fit and healthy but she has been trained to run and is by far the faster sprinter.

Even in a stola.

She races out the door, into the early evening and up the hill to the sanctuary of Elijah's villa.

"Caroline!"

Even when he shouts her name she doesn't look back.


A/N- Well, that got depressing quick.