AN: GoT AU, with Caroline as Margaery Tyrell and Klaus as Robb Stark. In the spirit of full disclosure, I haven't read ASOIAF yet so it's based (very loosely) on tv show.

There might be a slight Stefan shade, just to warn you.

Big thank you to CKhybrid for a read-over, you're the best!


"When the sun has set, no candle can replace it"

George R.R. Martin (A Storm of Swords)


In the barbarous world of Westeros, you had to learn how to play the game in order to survive.

Caroline didn't want just to survive, though. She wanted to flourish. She needed to excel.

She craved to rule.

Her ambitions weren't unfounded. Given the logical mind she was blessed with, her cunning dexterity, certain aptitude for garnering love and respect amongst her own people, Caroline was meant to be a Queen. Unlike her fool of a father, who allowed to be bossed around by her grandmother, she possessed the kind of determination that made things happen and achieved goals.

That's why Caroline had married Stefan Baratheon. She wanted to be the Queen.

When the news of Damon Baratheon's death and the alleged illegitimacy of his heirs spread across the Seven Kingdoms, his younger brother Stefan was among the first to stake a claim to Iron Throne. The whole family, the rumours had it, hated each other, between the eldest, Zachary, challenging Damon's rule and Stefan pining after his wife, Elena.

But that was all there was to it - rumours. The truth was far more twisted and complicated, not to mention interesting, as it often happened with gossip. While there was no doubt the brothers had their differences and a lot of bad blood between them, their familial bond was still strong, unlike the one between them and Zachary. Stefan might have disapproved of Damon's lifestyle and vice-versa, but in the end, there was no way he would stand idly by and watch Elena, with her bastard children, take over the kingdom that wasn't hers, very probably having murdered his brother to gain her goal.

As for the brothers' alleged altercation over the deadly beauty of Elena Lannister, Caroline knew for a fact it was as far from the truth as possible. While during his schoolboy years Stefan might have suffered from a small unreciprocated crush, those days were long over and now he embarked on a liaison with none other than Caroline's brother, Matthew.

It was of no surprise to anyone in Highgarden, after the news of Damon's death had reached them, that Stefan soon appeared, with pleas for support and army, to take back what was, in his eyes, rightfully his. And soon, Caroline was married off as a means to secure Tyrells future influences in the Red Keep, once it was taken back by the youngest Baratheon brother.

It probably should've bothered her to some extent, the fact her husband was head over heels in love with someone else, let alone her beloved brother. That, however, was not the case. While she liked Stefan well enough, in the bigger picture he was no more than a means to an end. He treated her well and with the respect she deserved - not that she'd allow him to treat her any other way. Still, her husband appeared to possess a natural tendency towards brooding and there were times he would get snippy, moody or even vicious. It was as if there were two Stefans - one that, while still morally challenged, was quite sensitive and attentive, and a second, who, it seemed, could eagerly rip her apart with his vile words if he was in one of his moods. As Caroline began to cope with her situation and make the most of it, she learnt that it was best appreciate her husband's better times while they lasted and avoid him when they ended.

It wasn't as if Stefan craved for her company anyway, enjoying the presence of Matt far more. Though it was generally of no difference to her, Caroline resented him for one simple reason.

She remained untouched since her wedding night.

Although she had no particular desire to be bedded by Stefan, the harsh truth was they did need to conceive an heir in order to secure their position as royal couple. However ridiculous it was, the respect held to her as a Queen would be lost if people were to believe she was unable to carry and give birth to a royal child. Stefan though, wouldn't even consider touching her, despite her persuasion to do so. No matter how many times Caroline told herself her husband simply had different tastes, she couldn't help but feel insecure, just a bit, and she hated it. Not to mention, she had been growing increasingly frustrated with his stubbornness and unwillingness to put their joined interests first - it was dangerous to her plans and that wasn't something Caroline could let slip.

She wanted to be the Queen.


Looking at Niklaus Stark for the very first time, with those dirty blond curls, sun kissed skin and crimson lips, Caroline thought he could be mistaken for the man from the Reach. But then, upon closer observation, one just had to decide that was not the case. There was a glint of iron behind his eyes, loss and blood etched on his face. He was walking with confidence but paying attention to his surroundings, taut muscles and strong physique - no summer soldier looked nor moved like this. It was a body carved out by the harshness of winter, forged in ice and the cruelty of life.

At 21, mere two years older than Caroline, Niklaus Stark had been already named the King in the North. With thousands of soldiers in his command, he had heretofore fought half a dozen battles and none of them were lost.

"You're staring, my wife," Stefan's venomous voice rang in her ear.

He was feeling somewhat bitter, her husband, over the fact he had to join forces with the young Stark to conquer King's Landing. But an alliance with his older brother, Zachary, was out of question, given he was more of an additional opponent to the Iron Throne, and they needed more men if they were to defeat the Lannisters first.

Young Wolf of Winterfell, on the mission to break his sister, Rebekah, out of Lannisters' claws and on the path of revenge for his father's death would make the best ally. Especially since he had no interest in the Throne himself. He just wanted the North and that was a small price to pay for the rest of Westeros.

Caroline understood it perfectly, had even been trying to convince Stefan of the benefits of such a solution and though he mostly agreed, he resented sharing the glory with someone else. She could only hope his attitude wouldn't sway the young Stark towards Zachary and ruin their plans. Her plans.

"I've never seen somebody from deep North, my king. I'm merely curious," she whispered back, as Niklaus was slowly approaching the podium set in the middle of the camp, the enormous grey direwolf beside him. Stefan seemed to be satisfied with her answer, at least for the time being and the truth was, the young Stark did spike her interest.

His father, Ansel, had been imprisoned and then executed by Elena (Caroline no longer thought of her as a Queen, even if namely she still was one), after having discovered too many of her secrets. Niklaus had rushed at once to his father's rescue, only for the news of Lord Stark's death to reach him after his first victory against the Lannisters.

It was said his wrath had known no bounds, riding out on his wolf during battles, the beast ripping out throats and crushing bones, its master showing even less mercy, barbarian, basking in the blood of his enemies.

"Your Grace," the accented rough voice called out to her and Caroline was embarrassed to realize she had almost daydreamed her way through introductions.

He looked at her, and it felt as if his gaze was burning through her skin, her breathing becoming laboured for no apparent reason as she tried to pull herself together enough to reciprocate the greeting.

"Your Grace," she said, her smile, as always, impeccable and striking.

"My Lord is quite enough, your Grace. I do not contend for the Iron Throne and Westeros," Niklaus replied, humbly lowering his gaze, though the subtle stretch of his lips suggested slight amusement of the speaker.

"But you are a king in your own right, chosen by your lords. You deserve the title," Caroline insisted.

"Nothing was yet deserved, your Grace," he let out, in quite the harsh tone, and then, catching himself on it, added, "Let's not bother ourselves with titles. Your husband and I are to be allies, after all."

The silence prolonged, Stefan, Matt, the lords and the crowd observing their staring match, though it was as if there were only two of them on that field. Caroline could feel her heart trying to beat out of her chest and yet could not find a reason why the man affected her so much. Their moment almost tipped over the point of awkwardness but then, the loud animal growl resonated through the space, the direwolf pacing towards the podium where she was sitting with Stefan.

"Grey Wind, come back!" the Stark yelled as he went after the animal.

She probably should've been afraid and yet, strangely, she wasn't, looking at the beast with curiosity, fascinated by its deep black eyes and mighty body. Matt was rushing towards her, in an instant, and Stefan hastily shifted back, ready to save his own skin, the move making Caroline smile bitterly for a split second. The wolf slowed down and jumped on the podium, nudging her hand with his nose, licking it a moment later. It tickled and she giggled, trying to reign it in to maintain her royal posture. But then Lord Stark reached the platform, his breathing ragged and gaze bewildered, the wolf choosing this moment to nest its head on her lap, smudging her gown beyond repair and Caroline couldn't hold it in anymore. She laughed out loud, tilting back her head, petting Grey Wind as she tried to compose herself. The crowd was quiet, as if charmed by the sound, and when she raised her gaze to Niklaus, this time a genuine smile was on his lips, Caroline knew she had just made a new friend.


He liked looking at her.

The cacophony of angry voices filled the tent where the Council was being held, the Lords of the North and Stefan's advisors disagreeing upon the strategy.

He'd steal a glance at her every once in a while as he tried his best to listen to the fools. Klaus noticed the way she would flinch, as Stefan said something vastly inappropriate or simply foolish. How her eyes would travel carefully from man to man, cold and assessing, not that one could tell unless they were attentive enough. Her touch, in contrast, seemed gentle and caring, as she petted Grey Wind and scratched him behind ears, the vile beast putty in her hands.

Klaus had considered her a fool at first, just one more silly girl sold off to marriage to make an alliance and gain influence. Had even taken pity on her, with how she reminded him of Rebekah in this, sent off to King's Landing to make a wife for Elena's bastard son, only to be kept captive as leverage. Klaus had learnt over the course of the last couple of weeks, that was not Caroline's case, though. She was clever and calculating, set on her goals, determined and still, somehow remained warm, kind, making people love her with ease.

It wasn't that hard to admit - he was intrigued. People called her the Rose of the South but he could clearly see the steal covering her thorns. What was even more surprising, though - Grey Wind seemed to be enamoured with her. The beast that tore out the throats and feasted on the flesh of his enemies, that snarled at anyone who approached him, let alone attempted to touch him, was now the Queen's favourite pet. It was startling in its uniqueness.

Then there were the rumours, of course. The whispers of a cold bed and a parade of lovers, a husband more interested in the crown and Queen's brother. Knowing very well how wild the folk's imagination could run, he tried to disregard the gossip. Klaus himself, was said to ride out to battle on his wolf, or drink the blood of his enemies afterwards, the tales he didn't care to deny, as it spread fear among Lannister soldiers. But with Caroline, he could tell there was some truth to it. From the blatant disregard her fool of a husband had shown her more than once, to the way her smile never quite reached her eyes, Klaus recognized something about the Queen, very few knew.

She was lonely, even if loved by many.

He couldn't resist and glanced at her again, meeting those warm blue eyes. Happy to catch her looking, he held back a grin, entirely satisfied with the way her chest rose as she swiftly took in a breath of air. Lady Tyrell wasn't unaffected either.

And despite constant reminders of how she was a married woman, too ambitious and cunning, Klaus found that Grey Wind was not the only one growing entirely too fond of the young Queen.


"Now, that is a fine example of a man, you Grace," Katherine's cheeky remark, her lady-in-waiting, broke her out of her thoughts as they took a stroll through the camp. Lifting her gaze to the sight before her, Caroline stopped in her tracks, observing Niklaus Stark as he trained sword-fighting, three men against him.

The breeches he was wearing accentuated his strong legs, his chest sweaty, the linen of his loose chemise sticking to the taut muscles underneath. The sight of him like this made something stir within Caroline, the desire for a man she had long forgotten. She was by no means innocent, the liberated atmosphere of the South being favourable to the self-awareness of young girls. As the daughter of House Tyrell and sister to two older brothers, she'd still be pretty well-guarded but nevertheless, there had been stolen kisses, secret meetings, curious glances. She chuckled, thinking back to the boy she had lost her innocence to, the poor lad having been too nervous to truly enjoy himself, only to be later punched and almost called out to a duel by Matt, so overprotective of his beloved sister.

But that was no boy before her. That was a man.

The sound of her laugh drew the attention of young Lord Stark, Caroline meeting his gaze head on, managing to keep the blush in as he caught her admiring him so openly. She saw him sending back his men with a nod and she did the same, turning to Katherine, who looked at her with an amused expression.

"You may go now, Katherine," she dismissed her, trying to sound casual.

"I bet I may," the lady drawled in reply, adding as she left, "Do enjoy yourself, Your Grace."

Caroline glared after her but held back any retort as Niklaus had already approached her, looking all too tempting for her comfort in a leather jacket he had put on.

"Your Grace," he bowed his head in greeting, his intense gaze focused on her from under his lashes.

"Please, do call me Caroline. We're alone," she insisted, resenting being so formal with him.

"Then you must call me Klaus...Caroline," his tone was teasing, the mirth sparkling in his eyes. In this moment, he looked very much like a boy.

"Must I, really? No one orders the Queen, you know," grinning back at him, she motioned for them to continue with her stroll.

"Except her King," it came out harsher than he intended, it seemed, and the air between them thickened with tension.

"No one orders me," her voice was quiet, yet fierce.

"Yes...so it would seem."

The camp stretched out before them and the silence stretched between them as they were walking, but it was a friendly one. Caroline would steal a quick glance at him from time to time, occasionally catching him doing the same, a flutter in her belly everytime she did.

"How do you fare, Your...Klaus?" she finally asked, scolding herself internally for such an inappropriate question. He had just lost his father, how could he fare?

Frowning slightly, he took a moment to mull over her question and then softly replied, "Right now, I focus solely on defeating the Lannisters and freeing Rebekah. I cannot let myself think of anything else...I shouldn't." He whispered this last part, his eyes flaring up with intensity as he set his gaze on her, almost accusing.

Her pulse sped up, her mind left blank for a second in search of a response. At the same time, she noticed the vast difference between Lord Stark and her own husband. While she was sure the Young Wolf was not the most noble among the men, if his cunning war tactics were anything to go by, he had been fighting for his family. Was still. Stefan, on the other hand, had no qualms using his relationship with Matt to get what he needed from her father and pursuing the Iron Throne. Even if he had done it partially to avenge his brother's death, it was still for mainly selfish reasons. She was no better, though. But if Caroline had to pose as a bargaining chip between her own father and the youngest Baratheon, she would sure as hell make the most of it.

"You are fighting for something dear to you. I understand," she finally remarked.

"Do you?" His tone was slightly unbelieving and she probably should have taken offence but then, she had never hidden what she craved for nor did she care to make excuses for it.

"Just because our priorities differ, it does not mean I'm unable to understand yours. Or admire them," Caroline said, her tone delicately scolding.

Klaus glanced at her, his expression unreadable and his tongue gliding over his lips in an unconscious move, as he pondered over her statement. Her body warmed in response to the sensuality of the gesture, her mind filling with visions of her own lips capturing his in what would probably be the most dazzling kiss.

"An admirable quality to have, my Queen...Caroline," came his reply as they reached the fork in the road, each path leading to their respective tents. "It seems we've come to the crossroads," Klaus mused as they stood there, clearly meaning more than a mere bifurcation of the paths.

"So it would seem," Caroline stated, enjoying the way her name sounded sliding off his tongue, like a gentle caress. "I shall see you at the feast, Klaus." She turned left, trying to walk away slowly despite the burning gaze she felt at her back.

The wind carried his soft whisper, "I shall count the minutes...my Queen."


He was looking at her. Again.

They were all gathered in the main tent, a feast before the battle tomorrow in full bloom. Her skin was burning because of the attention he was giving her, his eyes following her every move. There had been touches, brief, accidental or not, making her shiver, the desires she had kept hidden for so long ready to burst out with the brush of his rough skin against hers.

Now she was the one observing him, as he was dancing with her lady-in-waiting, Katherine. Despite her best efforts, Caroline couldn't quite deny the pang of jealousy she felt at the sight, even if she didn't have the right to stake a claim upon a man.

Not that it was something she wanted, mind you.

"You should take advantage tonight, my wife. We're riding to the battle on the morrow, who knows if your beloved shall return alive," Stefan leaned to her side and whispered in her ear, acknowledging her for the very first time during the feast.

"I'm sure you'll be quite fine, my dear husband. I don't think they make the King ride out with the first wave of soldiers," Caroline replied, a tinge of sarcasm in her tone not entirely masked.

"Oh, but I'm not referring to myself and you very well know it," came Stefan's cheerful reply, as if he reveled in making her uncomfortable. Her eyes quickly darted out to look at him, Caroline surprised that he would bring up this particular subject. He had never cared before, not once asked if she'd tried to fill the void in her bed and she was not the one to divulge in his relationship with her brother as well.

"They say he never dies. That he can't be killed," Caroline didn't even attempt to deny anything nor pretend not to know whom Stefan spoke of.

"Anyone can be killed," a rough voice cut through their conversation and when she raised her eyes, Niklaus was standing before her, his hand outstretched in an invitation. "May I have this dance, my Queen?" he asked, the blunt determination with which he stressed the word "my" making her blush.

Caroline barely nodded in response, placing her hand in his warm, bigger one. As they began to dance, those strong hands rested securely around her waist, a coil of pleasure rising in her lower belly at the contact. Her gaze met his and the way he slowly licked his lips while looking at hers was just too damn tempting, though she could not do anything about it In an attempt to divert her attention elsewhere, she asked, "How do you enjoy the festivities, your Grace?"

"Klaus," he corrected her in a soft voice, and then added, "I haven't been in favour of this feast but I am right now, my lady."

"Why not before?"

"Dusk before the battle is no time for a feast, your Grace. We will fight and people will die. There is nothing to celebrate," he replied, harsher than he'd meant to.

"I know," Caroline admitted quietly.

Something in her tone clearly struck him as he eyes her closely, realization quickly coming upon him.

"You're worried about your brother," Klaus stated with warmth, brushing soothing circles on her waist and back with his thumbs. Her eyes flickered across the room, stopping on Matt with Stefan, engrossed in conversation, leaning in just a little too closely. Caroline could see the admiration in her brother's eyes, this particular way you looked at someone and saw a whole world in them, etched on his face. She gulped, fully knowing that if it came down to it, Matthew would do anything in his power to ensure her husband's victory and safety.

But at what price?

"Why did you marry him?" came the unexpected question.

"I…," she found herself at the loss of words, surprised how well his words coincided with her own thoughts.

"I know it was not for love. But is the crown really worth it? Do you want to be the Queen that much?" his tone was growing louder and more accusatory, Caroline's eyes glaring at him with anger.

How did he dare judge her?

"Not here," she hissed, leaving his embrace and the tent, bidding goodnight to those who she encountered on her way out.

Feeling his haunting presence behind her, Caroline was not that surprised when a strong hand grabbed her by the waist as she made her exit, and pulled her towards the dark isolated spot in the back of the camp.

"What are you doing?!" she snapped, taking a look around to see if they had been seen.

"I'm going insane...over you, love," Klaus chuckled bitterly, with the wild look in his eyes. "It matters not that you are the most maddening, enthralling, perplexing creature I've ever come across," taking a step in her direction, he imprisoned her between his body and the tent, his musky scent overpowering Caroline's sense.

She'd been certain he was drunk, having made such a scene but his breath was clear of alcohol. He smelled of forest, steel and spices, the strange combination so very him and so intoxicating, she found herself drawing near him, breathing in as he carried on.

"It matters not that you have married this dolt, who's only dimming your light, just so you could have the Iron Throne. It matters not I have a father to avenge and a sister to save and I need your husband to make it happen," he whispered fiercely, his warm lips brushing against her cheek, darting lower, towards her jaw, nipping at it, daunting.

Her breath caught, hands travelling up to his neck and the dirty blond curls she had pictured her fingers sinking into so many times.

"Niklaus…" his name escaped her lips and she loved the way it tasted on her tongue.

"I can't help but want you," the words brushed against her ear, his tongue skimming along the lines, then down the curve of her neck, teeth scraping, lips sucking on the skin. Caroline shuddered, her breaths uneven, muscles tightening with anticipation of his next move.

Their eyes met, a jolt of electricity shot between them and then, his mouth crushed with hers, demanding, devouring, yearning. She pulled on his hair, molding her body into his, the thin fabric of her dress grazing her sensitive nipples, shivers rushing down her spine. His hands flung to her hips, locking her against him as his tongue flicked across her lips, as if savouring her taste. Caroline sighed into his mouth when he pushed his thigh between the folds of her dress, in pursuit of more delicious friction, chasing their high. Almost riding his leg, tension coiling in her abdomen, drive, push and pull that she had to keep hidden for so long, awakening now. She craved to touch and be touched, to taste, to feel, to explore but still, it was him that she wanted.

They went on and on, tongues clashing against each other, a groan escaping him as she bit on his lower lip. Klaus's fingers were stroking her hips, probably bruising the skin under her thin dress. Caroline tugged on his chemise, dying to feel his skin against hers and she was well on her way to rip it apart when someone's loud laugh cut through the silence of the night. They pulled away, their breaths ragged and cheeks flushed. She wanted to say something, to save the situation and make him stay but the spell was broken. His eyes were longing, fixed on her but one look on his stone cold face told her what he was about to say. The glimmer of honesty was over.

"I cannot afford to fall for your charms, my Queen. However much I may want to," Klaus let out, his tone biting, yet so utterly resigned. He went back to being the Young Wolf in this moment, strong-willed and fierce, always fighting the battle. Promptly turning away from her, he headed to his part of the camp, walking with long determined strides.

Caroline stood in the same spot for a while, trying to comprehend what had just happened between her and the King in the North. Taking in a long breath to calm herself down, she decided not to return to the feast either, not in the mood to be around other people right then.

The thing was, even when he had left her in anger, after having made her way to the tent she was sleeping in, Caroline discovered a direwolf resting beside her bed. Smiling upon the sight, she was relieved that despite everything that had transpired this evening, Niklaus had still made sure she would feel safe throughout the night, leaving Grey Wind to guard the nightmares and fears away.


Thank you for reading:) So how did you like it? I've always wanted to do a Klaroline GoT AU and since Robbaery is the pairing I've been obsessing over for some time now, I naturally went this way about it.

Just so you know, I'm planning part 2 to this.

Please, share your thoughts with me, you know I'm always grateful for those!

Till next time,

MrsAgentCooper.