A/N- Thanks for reading!
Caroline had waited breathlessly in her room, counting her heartbeats as Niklaus left and Elijah followed moments later, muttering darkly under his breath.
Releasing a sigh, she sunk onto her bed and ran her fingers through her hair, closing her eyes she wonders if she will have to request Elijah for a sleep draught.
She has never taken one before, they were rarely used in army camps, if a soldier took too great a dose they could be useless in battle. If the physician was a spy, he could render the whole camp immobile and vulnerable to the enemy.
Still, she cannot imagine falling asleep tonight without aide.
Were her body not still quivering with fear from the memories of the stairs, she would have the imagery of Niklaus being forced into the freezing water to haunt her.
Frustrated, she is on her feet and nearly walks into the atrium before she senses it.
The prickling on the back of her neck and the knowledge settling across her forehead that tells her that she is not alone.
There is someone outside and she does not think it is one of the slaves.
Darting back to her bed, slipping off her sandals so she could move silently, she slides her hand under her pillow.
And encounters nothing.
Her dagger was gone.
How?!
She has a moment of panic but then the curtain into her room is being pushed aside and she throws herself forward, away from the assassin at her back, spinning to face him as she struggles to see in the semi-darkness.
The man has a short-sword, smells like a soldier and for a moment, Caroline is so relieved that she almost smiles.
Even if she lived a hundred lifetimes, Caroline would never develop the brute strength necessary to best a well-armed man in an even fight.
Therefore, she'd learnt to cheat, to fight not only like a soldier, but as a killer as well, where the rules did not apply, all that mattered was survival.
There was little honour in her method, but her families honour had long since been lost anyway.
The man does not know her, for he approaches her with his arms wide in an almost conciliatory gesture.
"This will be short and painless." he lies, as if she had not seen that same promise proven false a thousand times before.
She whimpers, high-pitched and false as his words, backing up until she hit the wall and knew her chest to be beside her. She begins sinking down, as though losing her courage and the assassin continues to move towards her.
"I have…gold," she stammers, throwing open her chest and pushing a hand in, rummaging about to try and find what she sought. "I can pay."
Her sword was gone too.
How?!
She will have to improvise.
She did have a pearl necklace that the Pharaoh had thrown at her in a vulgar display of Egypt's wealth and she draws it out, letting it dangle in one hand.
It was not as long as she would like, but it would work.
The man looks at her with something akin to pity, "You do not have enough to buy your life." he growls and she glares,
"Nor do you."
She pushes herself up, surprising him and he leans back but she swings the necklace like a whip, wrapping it around his thick neck and she takes the two ends in hand and pulls them over each other.
He drops his sword in surprise, it drops down on her foot and she cries out but does not release her hold on the necklace, merely kicking the sword away. The gold chain on which the pearls were set was not sharp, but it was thick enough to fulfill its new task if she could hold on long enough.
The man reaches up with both hands trying to break her grip but his nails are short and he is too panicked to find the pressure points, she leans back so he cannot strangle her in turn.
She watches as his veins bulge, his mouth gaping as he struggles to breathe and his eyes are wide with disbelief and horror at his own impending death. His movements are slowing and he sinks to the floor, with her following him, leaning over him as he flops onto his back, jerking up and down a few times and then collapsing.
The necklace has cut into his skin but she does not release her hold yet, having seen this trick before, where a man only feigns death, she counts to one hundred before she releases her makeshift weapon.
It has cut into her own hands and she staggers to her bed, sinking down on it and looking to her injuries.
Blood and sweat mingled with death on her hands and dust from the stranger's legs on her tunic.
She calls for a slave and for a light, trying to catch her breath and wondering why none had heard the commotion.
She calls again before she wonders if perhaps the man had not worked alone, if there were other men in the house. She does hear a hiss and the strange slithering sound the asp made as it moved, she also hears footsteps and someone cursing, "Damn you, worthless beast!"
She scrambles for her would-be-killer's sword and throws herself into the atrium, holding the weapon out and the asp darts between her feet as its own threat nearly runs into her blade.
"Run," she orders, "That snake is protected by Egypt's gods and I am hungry for death."
The man is not a soldier like the last one had been, he resembles nothing but a sailor, and when he holds up his hands, she sees the mark of a galley slave.
And despite the darkness, she also sees the blood.
"It…bit…me," He gasps, "Over and over, without mercy."
Good.
The snake has finally endeared itself to her.
"Not enough if you yet live," she spits, pushing the sword forward until the tip pierces his clothes and his skin, causing him to stagger backwards.
"I should like to fix that."
"I was promised my freedom," he groans, weeping, "My freedom for your head."
He is not looking where he is going, the brand on his wrist means that he would have spent months if not years on a ship, chained by the ankles for hours on end rowing and rowing, always forward, never back.
So, he does not look behind himself now and falls into the atrium pool.
It is not deep, were he to stand it would not cover his waist.
Had he not been poisoned, were he not terrified, were he to take his eyes off her, he would live.
His gods did not watch over him that night.
Caroline watched him drown, his body befouling the water before she lets the sword drop with a clatter, sinking to her haunches and turning to look at the asp as it reared up beside her,
"Do you wish to fight me, too?" she asks, yet it only slithers off, hopefully to find Elijah.
Which she needs to do also.
First, she should probably dress.
With a grunt, she pushes herself up, her knees cracking and her blood continuing to sing. There's a commotion at the door and she turns as the praetorian guard enter, their boots loud against the otherwise still night, marching right past her, she watches over her shoulder as they move straight to the garden.
Well, one of them notices the dead man in the pool at least.
Moving quickly, Caroline darts into her bedroom and finds her cloak, wrapping it around her frame as more guards enter the house, this time bringing torches and Elijah with them.
"Are you well?" he asks, striding over and taking her hands, making her flinch as his fingers press against her cuts,
"Yes, yet I am not sure about your slaves." She answers, "I have not seen them."
He runs his hand over his mouth, "One ran to tell Niklaus and I of the dead man in the garden, I saw my brother safely home before returning with the guard."
Caroline smirks, "There is also a dead man in my room and another in the pool, one by my hand and the other by your asp's fangs."
He pales and snaps his fingers, summoning one of the guards, "We shall require an escort,"
He takes her arm, "Come, we shall see the Emperor."
Caroline digs her bare heels into the tiled floor, "Why?"
He looks down at her feet and notes the blood with concern, "They are aware that a man was killed here and wish to know you are alright."
She finds herself searching for an excuse, "I can send them a message, yet I need to tend to my injuries and rest."
He sighs and takes her face in his hands, "Caroline, when he or Niklaus hear you were attacked they will insist on seeing you with their own eyes regardless, better I take you now than be sent back to take you as soon as I set foot in his home."
She sniffs and parts her cloak so he can see what she's wearing, "I will dress first."
They barely entered the ostium before Elijah found himself beset by a young blonde who appeared on the verge of panic,
"Everyone thought I was asleep, yet I heard them talking!" Rebekah cried,
"They said a man came to kill you!"
Well, it was like as not to be one theory.
He grins and kisses her forehead, "As you can see, he was not very good at his task."
His little sister sniffed pointedly, her eyes filling with tears and he wraps an arm about her waist,
"There now," he guides her back to her matron, "Go to bed and we shall talk in the morning."
She stomps her foot, "I am not a brat, I can stay and talk with you and Nik and Ansel,"
"She gets to stay!" she adds, pointing at Caroline who raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised to find herself as the marking post for maturity and wisdom.
Elijah resists the urge to roll his eyes, "Caroline was there, little sister, she can provide information and will have to explain what happened, whereas you, thank the gods, were not."
Rebekah continues to pout but her matron guides her back to her cubiculum, leaving Elijah free to take Caroline through to the Triclinium where the Emperor sat.
Elijah notes the men gathered on the couches around him, trusted men who resided near the palace and could be summoned quickly and quietly. Caroline falters on the threshold, confusion written across her features and he wonders if the fight hadn't harmed the balance of her humours.
Ansel stands and holds out his hands to her, "We are glad to see you well," he says as welcome, his jaw clenching when he sees her injured palms, "What happened?"
She shrugs, "I woke to find a man in my room, I did not have my weapons close at hand, only a necklace to strangle him with. I went in search of the slaves and found another assassin, only Elijah's asp had finished him before I had the chance."
"Did the men say anything?" one of the men asks, unwittingly interrupting Ansel, "Explain why they were there?"
Caroline stares at the man, a furrow in her brow, "When you aim to kill a person, you rarely converse with them beforehand."
Elijah turns his face away quickly, to hide his smile of amusement and Ansel looks to the men, "Thank-you for coming, we shall speak again in the morning."
"Elijah," he calls, "Can you tend to Caroline's wounds?"
Caroline draws her hands out of the Emperor's, "They are nothing," she assures him, "All I need to do is clean them and bandage them."
He nods, "Very well, my home is your home for the night. There is a couch in Rebekah's room."
Caroline salutes and strides through to the peristylium, and the two men listen to her bathing her hands in the piscina. A slave hurries past, carrying a basket filled with medicines and she begins dressing her injuries.
Ansel steps further back into the room, to the couches and motions for Elijah to join him.
"Normally you and I would converse in the garden," he begins, "However, I do not wish to provide our enemies with another opportunity tonight."
"If I was the intended target," he replies, putting his arms on the table, "Yet, they did not attack until Niklaus and I had left."
"Speaking of which," the Emperor said, pouring two cups of wine, "My son would have joined us were it not for the fact that he can barely stand."
Elijah to glance down at his hands, "I may have given him a rather heavy tonic."
"Good," he responds, "Had you not, he would have run straight back to your villa and possibly been caught by the assassins."
Elijah hums in agreement and drinks the wine, "If I wished to see Caroline dead, I would not act within the heart of our empire, I would have struck when she is off at war, when she could be attacked and have the blame laid on the opposing force."
"If I wished to see you dead, I would not send assassins," Ansel returned, "I would poison you and lay the blame on your snake."
"The Pharaoh would know that I had been poisoned," he disagrees, but Ansel only shakes his head,
"Killed in the heart of Rome, by the time she received word your body would have been burnt with no evidence and she would not be powerful enough to demand justice."
Elijah sighs and refills their cups, "We can guess that Niklaus was not the target this time, unless they misjudged how long he and I would be conversing, and we left before they had the chance to finish killing my slaves, and then they would not have awoken Caroline."
He leans back and rubs his eyes, "Again, it makes no sense to kill her now."
"Perhaps they are frightened?" Elijah offers, "Perhaps they have seen what you and I have both seen, how Niklaus cares for her, how you call her daughter, perhaps they remember how dearly you loved her father?"
Ansel's grip on his cup turns his knuckles white, "He conspired against me, yet on our last meeting, I gave my word that I would never harm her. That was all I could promise him…"
Elijah remembered well the days he had taken Niklaus and kept him away from Ansel, who had rarely left his room following William Forbes execution. Clearly, he wished to allay his guilt by having Niklaus marry Caroline, but there were many who would not want the traitor's daughter to become Empress.
Dawn was barely breaking over Rome when Rebekah woke up and crawled from her bed into Caroline's, rousing her from sleep as she burrowed under the blankets until only her head remained uncovered.
"Did you really kill a man last night?" she asks, looking up at her with big, curious eyes and Caroline yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
She does not even think to lie, "I did not have a choice," she answers, "It was kill or be killed."
"Why did they want to kill you?" Rebekah asks, and she shrugs, "I do not know yet."
She hums and reaches over, taking strands of Caroline's hair and twisting them into tiny braids,
"After you fell asleep last night, I snuck out to listen to Elijah and Ansel talk," she confesses, glancing up to see if she is in trouble before continuing,
"Ansel wants the family to leave Rome for the summer, go to his villa by the sea which is very nice and he thinks it will be safer."
Considering the number of assassination attempts there had been in the space of a few days, Caroline thinks he might be right.
"That will be nice for you." She says, shifting slightly and letting the comfort of the bed lure her back into sleep, except Rebekah clearly was not done talking.
"I think he means for you to come with us," she muses, "He mentioned having some man called Alaric give you leave, is Alaric your commander?"
"Proconsul," she corrects and props herself up on an elbow, awake now, "And I do not wish to be separated from my legion."
Rebekah shrugs, picking up the talisman resting against Caroline's chest and playing with it,
"Perhaps they could come too? This is pretty."
She pouts when Caroline thanks her and climbs from the bed instead of gifting her the talisman. She had not bothered undressing last night and her tunic is rumpled and splattered with drops of blood, yet she does not hesitate to throw her cloak over her form and head to the door.
"Are you sneaking away?" Rebekah gasps, delightfully scandalized.
Yes.
"No," she lies, "I am merely going to visit my legion."
Without taking her leave of the Emperor, who would probably demand the praetorian guards escort her to the garrison.
"Can I come with you?" Rebekah asks, bounding from the bed, "I have never been to a garrison before!"
For good reason.
Caroline eyes the pretty girl as she reaches over for her chest, opening it and drawing out pretty silks and veils. "I am afraid it will be very boring," she tells her,
"Another time."
She hurries out before she can protest and when she is in the street, nearly breaks into a run, eager to get away before she is caught and carried back.
"Step-father!"
Ansel woke with a start as something heavy landed on his bed and jerks up into a sitting position.
He sees Rebekah sitting cross-legged in front of him, pouting and he tries to determine what the hour was, "Yes, dear one?" he asks, wondering how, in a palace filled with slaves and guards, she had managed to push her way into his room.
"Caroline ran away," she announces, her voice proud and smug to be revealing this secret,
"And would not take me with her."
What?!
Unprotected on the streets of Rome, mere hours after men had been sent to kill her?
"Where did she go?" he demands, "Tell me now!"
Rebekah reels back, clearly surprised at his harsh tone, "To her legion." she answers, her eyes watering and he curses, climbing out of his bed and pressing a quick kiss to her hair,
"Thank-you for telling me."
"Can I have a silver talisman of Neptune?" she asks as he calls for the guard, and he is momentarily surprised by her request, "Of course, dear one."
The garrison is quiet this time of morning, the guards at their posts but otherwise, she gives her name at the entrance and slips into the courtyard, moving quietly past the slaves sweeping and preparing for the day.
Very few women enter the barracks, and Caroline hesitates at the door before deciding that at worst she'll be mistaken for a confused whore.
The soldiers are still sleeping as she makes her way down the two rows of beds, her eyes darting over the men until she comes across ones she recognizes.
Enzo was lying on his stomach, snoring lightly and she leans over carefully, gripping his shoulder and pressing her mouth to his ear,
"Wake up," she hissed, startling him, "We're under attack."
One eye opens with great reluctance and glares at her, "Several years now and that still is not funny."
She smirks, "Come, we need to talk."
His bed creaks and groans as he pushes himself up and she holds her breath, glancing around to see if they've woken anyone else.
One man rolls over in his sleep, but the rest remain still and she breathes a sigh of relief.
Enzo's hand ghosts along her elbow and she follows him from the dorm, down to the courtyard where he drinks deep from the water pump,
"I assume there is an emergency?" he grumbles, "Preferably an army amassing at the city gates?"
"Someone tried to kill me last night," she reports and he chokes, spitting water,
"Actually, more than one."
Enzo hums in thought, wiping spittle from his mouth, "I am going to wager that they failed."
She nods, "Yet I am very certain that they will try again, and so is the Emperor."
He nods, "Right, well, you should stay here," he gestured to the barracks, "It is not a villa on the Palatine Hill but we can watch over you here, keep you safe."
She sighs, sitting down on the ground and he follows,
"I may not have a choice of where I wish to be," she reveals, "The Emperor wishes for me to accompany him to his summer villa."
"With his son?" Enzo interrupts and she nods, "With Niklaus."
He reaches over and grips her hand, giving it a gentle shake so she looks up into his eyes, seeing no judgement but only affection,
"You know better than I do why that would be a bad decision."
She nods, "My reputation would be ruined, no matter what, I would be called a whore and lose the respect of our men."
"Our men would know a lie for what it is," he countered, "Yet our superiors? Other legions?"
"Could you not feign sickness?" he asks, "Claim that you have your monthly blood and cannot travel?"
Caroline rolls her eyes, "It has never stopped me before," she points out and he grimaces,
"Can you not say it is worse than usual?"
She shakes her head, "They would merely have me carried in a litter."
He falls silent for a moment, thinking, "We could poison you," he suggests eagerly, louder than intended, "Nothing fatal obviously, yet perhaps some young fruit?"
"I would not suggest that." A voice calls from behind them and they rise to their feet in unison, looking around and blanching when they see the Emperor standing before them.
"The amount of young fruit you have to consume before you grew ill could easily prove fatal."
Beside her, Enzo saluted yet Caroline could not move, keeping her eyes on the ground and flinching when the Emperor reached for her, his hands still for a moment before resuming their course, touching her chin and lifting it up to meet his eyes.
There is affection there, there always has been yet the coldness behind them, the cruelty that had brought him to the highest position in the Empire, in the world and kept him there for over two decades, that still remained, even now.
"I shall need protection when I travel," he tells her quietly, "Your legion shall accompany me."
She nods, "I shall be billeted with them."
His lips thin, clearly unhappy to be defied yet he cannot order her to sleep in his villa.
"Very well."
Enzo claps her on the shoulder as they watch the man leave, "We shall be near the sea at least," he grins, "You can go swimming."
A/N- Let me know what you think!
