A/N- Okay this site has screwed up with frequent errors and I am pissed and ready to take everything to a certain other archive.
Caroline had thought that night would come slowly to her that day, yet, despite the anticipation thrilling through her body, the afternoon passed quickly.
The maligned apple tree cast its shadow on the garden, stretching onto the patio and the birds feasting on the fruit cast carelessly to the ground flew to their nests, shrilling and screaming to one another in a deafening cry.
Caroline stood staring at the sky for so long, watching the colours bleed into one another that she lost track of the time, starting when one of the slaves cautiously called her by her title.
"Yes?" she turned to them and they held up a wineskin for her,
"A messenger from the temple to the Egyptian goddess sent this," they explained quietly,
"For your pleasure."
She takes it from the slave with a slight frown, removing the stopper and sniffing at it curiously, it smelt the same as the beer she had consumed earlier.
But why would the priestess send her more? Caroline had not considered that she had endeared herself enough to the woman to warrant the gift.
Perhaps it was poison?
When Elijah emerged from his study, Caroline took an olive from the table and poured the beer over it, dropping it on the ground for the asp who had begun to slither its way to the garden to hunt for its evening meal.
Caroline hisses at it and kicks the olive towards it, hoping it will mistake it for a very small frog and Elijah notes the scene with amusement, dipping his bread in oil before chewing on it thoughtfully,
"Whilst your attempt to poison my pet is rather rude," he begins, sipping on his wine,
"I must admit the likelihood of your success too poor to be of pressing concern."
The asp gives her a glance and then turns its head in a clear snub, slithering away into the shadows and Caroline winces as she hears the strangled cry of a bird.
She explains the motivation behind her act and Elijah reaches for the wineskin, bringing it to his mouth without the least hesitation.
"Katerina is a skilled poisoner," he admits, "But I have knowledge in herbs as well."
He swallows a mouthful and swills it around, pausing for a second before walking over to a long dead bush, of which only the skeleton branches remained and spitting it out.
"Not poison," he assures her, as she rises to her feet in alarm, he wipes his mouth,
"At least, not in such small quantity. Mandrake."
Caroline slowly sinks back into her couch, taking the wineskin, she takes a sip herself,
"It tastes the same as the beer I drank at the Iseum." She confirms, "But why is the priestess giving me gifts?"
Elijah sits on the couch, leaning his elbows on the table,
"I shall speak to her about that in the morning," he promises her, "I doubt my wife will be glad to hear her servants are giving women who reside in my villa aphrodisiacs."
Caroline doesn't know the term and when Elijah explains it to her, she wishes she had never learnt the word.
She swallows as she glances over the back of the couch to the apple tree, remembering the feel of Niklaus' lips against hers, the taste of him on her tongue.
She had wanted him so badly.
Except that she had not. It had merely been magic, a love potion of sorts, clouding her mind and judgement.
Worse still, she had invited him to her bed.
He would come as soon as night finished falling and expect her to welcome him with open arms.
What if she did not?
Could she say no?
She swallows and her hand drops to her hip, where her sword would sit were she not in the company of a trusted friend and dining at his home.
Elijah plays with the cup in his hand and looks over the rim to her,
"You were alone with Niklaus earlier," he begins, unable to properly attain the off-hand manner he was striving for,
"I presume the mandrake achieved its intended purpose?"
Caroline felt her blood stain her cheeks and only having stared into the eyes of enemies as she'd killed them enabled her to continue meeting his gaze,
"If you are asking if I opened my legs for your brother behind an apple tree while you and the Emperor were close by, the answer is no," she told him forcefully,
"I have been trained to keep my head in the very midst of battle, in any condition that our army finds itself in, there is not enough mandrake in the world to make me lose my reason."
Elijah raises his eyebrows slightly, "Not your reason, perhaps," he allowed,
"Yet, what of the concerns you hypothetically might have regarding becoming my brother's lover?" he asked.
"What has become of them?"
Caroline shuts her jaw with a firm snap, glancing down at the meal, she feels her appetite vanish.
"I am retiring," she tells Elijah, climbing off the couch and her hand brushes the wineskin.
She picks it up and considers it before hurling it into the garden, she hears it hit something and then a responding hiss.
"If that asp bites me," she growls, "I shall ask to be buried in the Egyptian manner,"
"With you stuffed alive in the tomb with me." She finishes, upon seeing Elijah's confusion and he gives a rueful smile,
"Sleep well."
She did not.
She removed her armor, and slipped a white tunic over her head, letting the cool material brush against her skin as she paced her room.
The darkness consumed her and she did not light a candle to dispel it, hoping that any who passed it would think she slept.
Except for Niklaus.
He would enter her cubicula, having been granted invitation and with no reason to think it had been rescinded. He would think to find her waiting for him, eager to kiss him and have him in her arms again.
And he would not be wrong.
Even now, knowing there was external cause for her desire for him, that it had been heightened by magic, her body was still burning for him.
She could not send him a message telling him to stay away, though she had parchment in her room on which to scrawl a note, there would be no way to get it to him without risk of discovery.
That is what she tells herself as she sits down on her couch, pressing her thighs together as the tunic rubs over her bare breasts.
She closed her eyes, flinching when she thinks she hears a footfall outside.
She can imagine the path Niklaus is taking, not the ordinary one through the ostium to the vestibulum, through to the atrium where he would like as not be seen by one entering by anyone who still lingered outside on the Palatine after dark.
No, he would enter through the tiny side passageway, through the posticum, skirting along the fauces, likely ducking into the alae in case he heard someone approaching and then…
Then…
The curtain to her room is brushed aside and a figure darts in quickly, she hears his breathing and smiles ruefully as he approached.
Heightened breathing and no skilled attempt to move silently.
The Emperor's son would make a terrible assassin.
A hand flutters under her chin and she lifts it, opening her eyes to meet Niklaus as he towers over her.
"Caroline," he breathes her name as if it were a prayer, yet he does not move closer.
In her mind's eye, she sees him pushing her back onto her bed, pulling her loose tunic down to expose her breasts as he kisses her hungrily, using his knee to part her thighs and she jolts as she feels the phantom thrust as he enters her.
Her mind is vivid, yet her reality seems frozen. She reaches up with a trembling hand and touches his wrist, "What is wrong?" she asks, "You do not seem…"
She cannot think of the word, not an appropriate one, however, Niklaus does not appear excited, amorous, lustful…
Instead, he is looking at her as if she might have a weapon concealed on her person.
Which she does not- although, she did have a dagger concealed under her pillow.
His fingers are still under her chin and she finds herself taking his hand and bringing it to her lips, kissing it impulsively before releasing him. He utters a small gasp and she stands slowly, about to speak when she feels the heat radiating from his body.
"You are too warm," she murmurs in concern, placing the back of her hand on his forehead,
"Do you have a fever?"
Fever was a symptom feared by soldiers, the merest instance of one soldier feeling warm when the day was cool could lead to vomiting and diarrhea befalling dozens if not hundreds of soldiers.
Death followed quickly on the heels of fever.
He shakes his head, "Not one that shall not pass soon enough."
He takes her hand, wrapping his fingers around her wrist in a grip tight enough to make her pull back instinctively,
"Do you want to know my other symptoms?" he asks, his voice growing hard and she shivers, not from the coldness of his tone, from the memory of the snow falling across her shoulders as her father's body was thrown down the Gemonian stairs.
She does not answer, yet he speaks as though she had assented.
"Dizziness overcame me shortly after leaving you this afternoon, my mouth became dry no matter how much wine I consumed and I blushed for so long, my father thought I had been burnt by the sun. Fortunately, I was able to hide the symptoms so that he did not guess the truth."
He pulls her close and her eyes flicker down as she realizes the flimsy barrier her tunic provided against his body, his wiry frame and she forces herself to raise her eyes back to his.
"Mandrake," Niklaus hisses the word in her face and she flinches, "You consumed it before kissing me, you had it on your tongue and lips, which is why you suddenly became so passionate towards me."
If he grips her wrist any tighter, she shall break his hold no matter the consequences,
"I consumed it and did not suffer your symptoms," she pointed out, "Why did it affect you so?"
He reels back, and she cannot see his eyes from that small distance in the darkness yet she can hear the surprise in his tone,
"You admit it?" he queried, "You drank mandrake?"
She shrugs, hoping he will hear the movement if not see it, "It was in a beer I was given, I did not know the properties of the plant until Elijah told me afterwards…"
"Elijah gave it to you?" he interrupted, his voice louder and she shushes him frantically,
"No," she answers quickly, "A priestess gave it to us…and be quiet, we cannot be discovered."
He finally releases her wrists and she rubs it, drawing it close to her as Niklaus steps closer,
"Get us some light." he orders and she snorts,
"No, I will not have the slaves knowing I am awake at this time, or Elijah- who will think I am available to debate philosophy at this hour."
He curses under his breath, or Caroline thinks he means to curse, the word he uses is so tame, her speech had been filled with much worse words before she had even had her first monthly bleed.
"Why were you ill?" she asks again, "I drank it in greater quantity and I am fine."
"Because I am allergic to it," Niklaus explains, "Two years ago, Tristan's younger sister, Aurora, tried to mix a love philtre to make me lust for her. However, she misread the recipe or was overly enthusiastic, either way, she used so much mandrake that at first it worked very well, until I was overcome with hallucinations, unable to see the world around me, my heart hammering like a racing horse, laughing until I vomited…the physicians feared for my sanity. At Elijah's suggestion, I was taken to the baths of Diocletian- at night so no-one would see the Emperor's son reduced to idiocy- and plunged into the pool in the frigidarium, over and over for hours before my fever broke and my mind returned to me."
He leans closer to her and she puts her hands on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat, trying to imagine how horrifying the scene would have been for his family, how terrifying for him when he had regained his senses.
"Since that day, mandrake in love potions has been banned in Rome and forbidden for any purpose on the Palatine," he tells her,
"Caroline, if my father had found out…"
To the stairs.
She shuddered, "I did not know," she breathed, "I was given it without my knowledge and threw away the rest. Elijah did not tell me…he merely warned me of its properties."
Niklaus exhaled, and suddenly his arms were about her waist, closing the smallest distance that had been left between them,
"Please," she whispered, "Please do not accuse me, I am innocent."
"Hush," he shushes her, one hand threading his fingers through her hair, "All is well."
The stairs.
If she was lucky, she would be dead before she was thrown down them, if she were not, she would end her life feeling her head smashing against the stone.
She winces, already feeling the pain.
She shifts against Niklaus, lifting her face and when he looks down, she kisses him, parting her lips to allow his tongue to slip into her mouth. Her hands are trapped between their bodies; however, she has enough movement to take a hold of her tunic and drag up the material until it bunched at her stomach,
"Take me," she murmurs when she breaks their kiss, "I want you, Niklaus, I am yours."
He growls, his hand leaving her back to grip her hip, bare to him now and down to the curls between her legs. He cups her and she starts instinctively, having never had a hand not her own touch her thighs before.
Yet, if it bought her a stay of execution, if it granted her life, it was a small price to pay.
She closes her eyes, biting her lip when a finger pushes into her, it was not a pleasant feeling and she wondered how whores managed to earn their living.
"Where is your honey?" he asks, pressing his mouth to her ear and she frowns, wondering why he would think to find honey down there.
He removes his finger and she opens her eyes again, trying to determine what was happening as he took her tunic from her hand, letting it fall back down to her knees,
"I shall try not to take offense at how cold you are for me without aphrodisiac." he says wryly, and she reaches for him, gripping his elbows,
"Come to my bed," she tells him, "Perhaps it will work better lying down."
He gives a barking laugh and she jumps at the noise before he covers his mouth, "That will not solve the issue," he whispers, kissing her cheek and then her neck, "Position will not alter lack of desire."
"Can you not just…" she waves her hand helplessly, "Do it anyway?"
His hand is on her back, running along her spine, it stills at her words and he lifts his face to gaze into her eyes, "Do it anyway?" he echoes and she huffs in frustration,
"I have seen soldiers with their blood up after battle," she points out, "You cannot tell me that the women they come across feel desire during their rape. I know their screams are not ones of pleasure."
"And is how you wish me to treat you Caroline?" Niklaus demands, his voice as cold as the stone stairs, "As a soldier in a conquered town?"
"I wish to live," she snaps, stomping her foot, "And if that means having you…should I fetch the beer?" she asks, "I threw it into the garden, it is probably still there and as long as you do not kiss me…"
He is moving away from her now,
"Why…" he breaks off, "Every time I think you are tender towards me…always you act as though I am your enemy! If I wanted a body do you think I would pursue you?!"
"Seriously?!" she responds, "You hunted me through the streets of Rome, you have done nothing but pursue me since I set foot in this city…"
"Not for your body!"
"Then for what?!"
"Niklaus, Caroline, will you two be quiet!"
Both of them gasp, backing away from the door as a figure pushes his way in.
Elijah stood before them, glaring as his hand shielded the flame of the candle, "When I heard your voices from my own cubicula, it was of no concern, yet at this rate, the slaves will hear you in the kitchens and the Palatine spies will hear you from the streets."
Caroline clears her throat and opens her mouth to speak before Niklaus steps in front of her, shielding her with his body,
"I am to blame, big brother," he says, "I forced my entry to Caroline's room, she was trying to order me to leave her."
Elijah's glare brings to mind his asp, which was thankfully not present,
"If I thought for a second you were here without Caroline's invitation, I would have dragged you from my house by your hair and not stopped until we reached the Tarpeian Rock…which I would have thrown you off," he adds, as if that final part was necessary, people only went to that cliff to be executed or expose their newborn infants. "It does not take a man of great intelligence to guess how you came to be here, however, by the same token, even a man of your intelligence can see that you are overstaying your welcome."
He stepped back, "I shall make you a tonic to help with the effects of the sunburn and escort you home."
Niklaus raised an eyebrow, yet nodded his consent, "If I may have a moment?"
Elijah did not look disposed to grant him this wish, however, Caroline nods quickly to show him all was well and he slipped out of the room.
Niklaus exhaled and turned to face her as she crossed her arms, presenting no more a welcoming figure than Elijah had.
"Very well," he huffs, taking her shoulders and pulling her towards him so that he could kiss her cheek,
"I do not want you for your body, Caroline," he murmured, so quietly that she could barely hear him, "I want your heart."
She swallows and manages a small smile, "Sleep well."
Niklaus felt his skin prickle from the cold night air as Elijah left him standing in the atrium, cast into darkness, the frescoes on the wall looked vaguely threatening and the unfinished mural brought to mind an abandoned building that poor people might live in.
His brother emerged from his study clutching a wineskin and pushed it into his hands,
"Borage, poppy and crushed chicory," he informs him, "Drink."
Obediently, Niklaus brought it to his lips and swallowed, nearly gagging on the terrible taste,
"I may have used too much borage," Elijah says, shrugging unrepentantly, "I am tired from being awoken in the middle of the night."
Niklaus glares at him, "You were never asleep."
"Perhaps you are right," Elijah allows, leading him to the ostium, "Perhaps I was in my study, reading as you knew I would be, hence the reason you left your own home this late at night…no," he pauses and corrects himself, "You came shortly after I had eaten for a lesson in history, you mentioned that you were having trouble sleeping, and did not wish to disturb or distract your father from his work, which is why you sought my companionship. Meanwhile, Caroline, having a headache, retired to bed before you came, you did not see her this night."
Niklaus scowled in chagrin and embarrassment, "Do you think me a cur?"
"No," his brother answered, "I think you a fool."
He stopped in the street, the cobblestones digging into his sandals and Elijah turns around with a sigh, "Yes?"
Niklaus glares at him, "You know me," he argues, "You know I would not hurt her."
"Do I?" his brother challenges, moving back to him, "I know she has no-one in this world to speak for her, save myself, I know that your attention will draw her enemies out of the shadows and I know she fears her desire for you, and she is a soldier, Niklaus, she does not fear war, bloodshed or death, only you."
He cups his neck and gives him a little shake, "If you want her, first make her feel safe and loved, then she will come to you."
Niklaus wants to lash out, to ask how he is meant to manage this when every time he gains ground she flees to new territory, yet before he can speak, Elijah's name is called and the two of them turn to see a slave running up the hill.
"Forgive me, master," he calls, "We have sent for the guard, there is a dead man in your gardens!"
A/N- And there was no smut to be had.
