Caroline held in her breath and pressed her ear as quietly as she could to the French door that led to the living room of the Lockwood mansion. Good thing she was a frequent visitor of the place when she was still dating Tyler Lockwood, before he up and left town one day without even a voicemail. But at least she got to know the house like the back of her hand. Who knew her skills of sneaking around would come in handy?
The glass felt cold on her skin, and the people inside looked like vague shadowy caricatures of themselves at best due to the elusive texture. Caroline nearly huffed, but caught herself at the last second – still, you can't fend away eavesdroppers just by changing from regular glass to frosted ones.
She was surprised that the Elders didn't burn sage to keep the meeting a secret. Maybe there was no need, since they were on coven ground and there was nothing to hide at this point; and if the vampires attempted to do something drastic it was probably better if the whole town could hear them. She would have used a silencing spell on herself, being the eavesdropper in the scenario, if not for the ever-so-disappointing instability of her own magic. Given that this meeting would essentially decide her future, she could see some major mood swings coming her way. Best not to tempt her luck.
But maybe her future had already been decided. Caroline thought morosely as she listened to the sound of china clattering in the room. They were serving tea. Of course, how ironic. If everything went well today she would be on her own way to pick out some china patterns.
The news came about a week ago that she was to be married. She couldn't even believe her ears when they first told her, that at this day and age, her, a well-educated independent modern woman, would still be subjected to the corrupt convention of arranged marriage. And to that self-crowned vampire King no less. You'd think she lived in the middle ages or something. But then again, time in the coven moved differently than in the rest of the world. In so many ways they were cocooned in their own little bubble of a pre-industrialized world, the purpose of the coven being the imperative, and the decision of the Elders a decree.
And the Elders had reached a near-unanimous vote, save for that one hold-out from her mother, that she was to be put on the table as a peace offering when it came to the negotiation with the vampires.
So here she was, listening in as her own fate was decided in a room that she wasn't even allowed in.
"Is this how you treat your guest, Gilbert? Such hospitality."
She recognized the voice, along with the strain in it. King of the vampires, a hybrid between two species, the sworn enemy of their coven for the past ten years. Klaus.
For the longest time he existed in her childhood stories without a last name, something akin to a legend, like Madonna, or Zeus, or the Boogeyman. But then the long and strenuous war came, and she, along with every child in her coven, were taught all about him, his family, and his army. She remembered being scared on her way to a sleepover that a Mikaelson vampire would appear out of nowhere and snatch her away. She'd heard all about their barbaric ways, killing witches, kidnapping them, or holding them as hostage to threaten their family. At first she was scared to the bones, but after a few years that fear grew into hatred and anger, directed at all vampires but especially the one who started it all. Klaus.
And now he was sitting just a few feet away from her, and just a few hours from becoming her future husband.
Someone else's voice pulled her from her straying thoughts.
"Just a small reminder that you don't hold all the cards, Klaus."
It was Grayson Gilbert, head of the Elders.
She heard the sinister chuckles from Klaus, "exactly what cards are you holding, young Grayson? In case you didn't know, a little something extra in the tea is nothing to me. Adds a special kick, actually."
"Do not underestimate us, Klaus. You're on our ground now. And if we could put vervain and wolfsbane in your tea without you even noticing, then you can bet there's a lot more that we can do."
"You know, there's one thing that always irks me. People who try to make threats, but can't do it right." He took his time going on to the next sentence, probably taking another sip of the poisoned tea, "let me impart some ancient wisdom here: threats need to be made from a position of power, otherwise it's just plain floundering. Not that it isn't entertaining to watch. But here, I'm going to show you how it's really done."
There was a whooshing sound, and then she heard furniture rattling and a few screams and gasps. She pressed down her urge to storm inside. If a room of Elders couldn't stop him, she hardly stood a chance.
"I could snap each and every one of your necks before you've even started your salt circle." Everything was quiet now, as if all the people in the room had been frozen in place. Time stood still, bowing down to Klaus. "I know all of you aren't afraid of death as Grayson here."
So he took Grayson. Caroline let out a ragged breath. At least her mom was safe, for now.
"Fortunately, you will not die." Another gasp from the room, drowned out by Klaus's laughter, "what, you think only you lot know how to spike the refreshment? One snap of a finger, and you will come back as one of mine."
Vampire blood. He'd put vampire blood in the tea. But how did he do that? The Lockwood mansion, being one of the biggest in town, was the usual meeting place for the Elders, and it was always heavily guarded by protection magic. Up until the moment Klaus compromised it. Caroline felt a chill down her spine.
"Once I start, I won't stop here. Do you know how many vampires I can turn in one day? I'll give you a hint – it's a much larger number than the total population of your little coven." He took a dramatic pause, letting the fact in his words sink in that he had definitely tried doing so on countless occasions, "and that, Grayson, is a threat." The cheerful clap of his hands sounded like a slap to everyone's face, "now, shall we negotiate? No, let me rephrase that – tell me why I should spare you." As if an afterthought, he lightly added, "and no tricks this time. Poisoning, chanting, eavesdropping...none of that."
Caroline's heart skipped a beat. Somehow, that word seemed like it was directed at her. Goddamned vampire hearing. He must have known she was here the whole time. But since he hadn't dragged her out of her hiding place just yet, she was probably safe to assume that it wasn't a high priority for him. So she might as well keep on listening. "Bite me," she mumbled under her breath, and thought she heard a soft chuckle.
Just then his voice cut through the silence again, along with the whispers of shuffling paper, "so this is your genius plan? A cease fire based on a marriage proposal? How...quaint."
Caroline's sentiment exactly, although sharing it with the evil hybrid didn't bring her much joy.
"It's a gesture to restore peace and rapport between our kinds."
"If that is true, then where is your daughter, Grayson? You're the head of the coven, why aren't you offering the fair Elena to be my betrothed? Or even your son. This is the modern times, and I've always been able to see past certain barriers. Although Jeremy is awfully young for my taste."
What a jerk. Caroline rolled her eyes, even though that was also the question she'd asked herself again and again ever since she was informed of the plan. But not once did she ask it out loud because it was Elena. Star of the coven. Her best friend since childhood. The only person who stayed with her when she was shunned and ridiculed by everyone else because of her anomalous magic. Being married to an enemy and subjected to possibly a lifetime of misery would never be the story for someone like Elena. It was the tacit belief of all coven members, including Caroline herself.
"Caroline is the daughter of our High Priestess, and the Forbes line is one of the oldest in our coven. She is more than a match for you."
"Is she now?" She could hear the smile in his voice, like this was all a game for him, and she bit her tongue to stop herself from shouting in his face, "no offense to your High Priestess, but if she's really in any power here, it wouldn't be her daughter that you're offering on a silver platter. And isn't the Forbes line dwindling? How many do you have left in your coven, hmm? As for Caroline, lovely as she sounds, words traveled to me that there's something quite...peculiar about her magic. Not exactly the prospective family witch one could count on, wouldn't you say?"
Caroline bristled at the words, every one of them hitting too close to truth. But more than anything else she was mad at herself for getting so easily riled up. These were the judgments she had heard all her life. Ever since her first magic lesson with other coven kids where she promptly set the classroom on fire people had been looking at her differently. But as time passed things didn't change for the better as they usually would for a lot of younger witches. Her magic stayed volatile and unpredictable, almost foreign, and she never felt particularly connected to the spirits of their ancestors like other witches in the coven did.
It took her a long time to learn how to rein in her powers, tucking their violent charges under her skin at any waking moment. Yet even now, they made their abrasive appearances without warnings, much like her personality. It took her an even longer time to come to terms with that. But she had come to terms with it, and anyone who attempted to undermine her because of it can go to hell.
Caroline inhaled deeply, feeling a newfound calmness in herself. Suddenly something dawned on her. Klaus was undermining her, yes and screw him – but he was doing it to bargain. And bargain Caroline knew. She exceled at it. She'd once reduced the young owner of the local boutique to a jittering mess when she was still a budding teenager, verbally tearing apart a dress that she actually really wanted. She got that dress half-off in the end.
And that was exactly what Klaus was doing right now.
Caroline should feel angry. She should be furious that everyone in that room was trying to put a price on her, and even worse a dozen little labels that marked out attributes that she didn't care about and faults that she'd rather kept secret. But in that moment she only felt defeated, a sense of despair creeping up on her as the nicely-veiled haggle went on and on in the room.
You never bargain if you don't want the product.
And half-off or not, Klaus wanted to go through with the deal.
It was only then that Caroline realized she had secretly hoped he would refuse. Selfish of her since it would mean a prolonged war and even more death and loss for her people, but she did hope. And now that hope is gone.
Unable to listen anymore, she fled the Lockwood mansion, her eyes blurred by the shattered pieces of her future.
To any outsiders, the field of green sequestered by a wall of hedges a few blocks down from the Lockwood mansion was just a plain community garden. A somewhat unkempt one at that, sprouting only nameless shrubs and grasses. But in an educated witch's eyes it was a garden of treasure, filled to the brims with every common herb one might need for a spell. It was one of Caroline's favorite spaces in town, her mom having taken her here shortly after she started practicing magic to help her "calm her nerves". It became a safe haven of some sort for Caroline, the seemingly monotonous chores serving as a perfect outlet for her disquieting neurotics.
So naturally after her eavesdropping mission was cut short, she found herself crouching between two lines of lemon balms, shovel in hand, digging down along the roots of a dandelion. Of course, unlike common folks, witches don't usually consider dandelions weeds, the resilient herb being a key ingredient in spells concerning procreation and pregnancy. However, they were far too aggressive for other more delicate herbs in the garden, thus warranting the need for constant removal.
Caroline didn't always care for this particular chore, but today it just so happened to fit her mood. She dug with great precision honed through years of practice, careful not to let the tangled roots break underground. Somehow, right at this moment it was the utmost imperative to stop the micro-invasions of the relentless plant. She wouldn't give any ground, not anymore. Nutrient-stealing weeds and life-stealing weasels could all die a painful death in the sun for all she cared.
With a triumphant huff she dragged the plant out, its long roots dangling like a shriveled plea. Caroline snapped the roots off and put them in a nearby bucket to dispose of later, leaving only the golden little flower in her hand. Generic as it was, she had to admit it was a pretty thing, especially considering the lack of blossoms among the greenery. "Seriously, they could have at least put roses as a hedge." It would look so much better. Caroline sighed for the hundredth time lamenting the lack of aesthetic design of whoever started the garden.
"I agree."
Caroline sprung to her feet and turned around, only to look into the eyes of a smirking hybrid.
"Why are you here?" She bit out, feeling more than uneasy that Klaus had shown up at her special place.
"The Elders have painted such a nice picture of the young prodigy," Klaus was brazenly appraising her up and down like it wasn't the rudest thing in the world, "I have to see it for myself."
Caroline rolled her eyes, knowing it was far from the truth, at least not the "prodigy" part, "yeah right, like you haven't stalked me before." He had to have got all that information about her somewhere.
"Technically, I didn't do the stalking myself," he grinned way too smugly, flashing his dimples. "Unlike someone who felt the need to intrude on a very private conversation between me and the Elders."
"You guys were brokering that deal like I was some livestock. Don't pretend like you have any moral high ground in this."
"On the contrary, I take pride in never standing on the moral high ground. Dreary place, if you ask me." He approached her, every idle step silently intimidating, and Caroline had to steel herself inwardly to glare at him without taking one step back, "and you, sweetheart, are no innocent lamb."
"If you're trying to insult me you're doing a really poor job."
"I swear I meant that as a compliment," he stopped just a few feet away from her, a finger playfully crossing his heart like they were childhood besties.
Caroline plastered on a fake smile, "thank you, I'm very disgusted."
Klaus just shook his head with a laugh, "I'm sure."
For all the anger and contempt she harbored toward this man, Caroline couldn't help but study him with curiosity now that she had the chance. This was the magical hybrid from her childhood bedtime stories, and the evil shadow darkening their lives throughout her teenage years. She'd imagined him in a thousand monstrous ways, his jagged fangs sticking out of a bloodstained face with black veins running like corporeal curses. In her mind she'd seen him in capes, robes, ugly supervillain unitards, but nothing like what she was seeing right now.
He looked almost...normal. Dark jeans, boots, and a Henley that accentuated his lean figure. Sandy blonde curls a little ruffled by the light breeze. And those eyes. Not the bloody red holes rumored in the legends, but a clear blue shaded only by his long lashes. And definitely no fangs. Only full lips that looked almost kissable. Almost.
Caroline cleared her throat, "okay so now you've seen me. What else do you want?"
"It's awfully imprudent to marry someone without at least spending some quality time with them, wouldn't you think?" He stared at her, something tentative glimmering in those blues, like he actually cared what she thought. A trick he'd used time and again, she was sure.
"There's nothing prudent about this sham of a marriage," she scoffed, earning another dimpled grin from him. "And last I heard, you weren't very excited about me being your 'prospective family witch'."
"Hit a nerve, did I?" Giving her a slightly bashful smile, he looked down at the lines of herbs at his feet, poking a sprig of thyme with the tip of his boot, "I apologize, love, it was nothing personal."
"Oh it was very personal, believe me," Caroline shot daggers at him. Just because she chose not to let it get to her didn't mean he was by any means forgiven. "You exploited my personal situation – which you stalked me to get in the first place – to get a better deal. So just tell me what you want from me, and save your lame sweettalk. And stop messing around with that thyme!"
His head snapped back at her, but it wasn't the anger she'd expected that Caroline saw on his face. He looked...somewhat impressed. With a mirth shining in his eyes, Klaus retrieved his foot and ambled towards her, until they were only inches apart.
"I want to know why you agreed."
"Agreed to what?" She was confused for a moment, his reply catching her off guard.
"To being offered as a bargaining chip."
He was looking into her eyes intensely now, so piercing as if he could see everything in her, things that even she herself didn't know of. She felt exposed all of a sudden, her throat tight, "it's not like I have much of a say in it."
"I highly doubt that." When he was only met with silence, he smirked, shaking his head a little, like indulging a child, "Caroline, the number of brides-to-be I've seen in my lifetime who detested their fate, you can't even imagine. And for women like you, there's always a way out."
Caroline didn't know what he meant by "women like her", but she knew he was not wrong. Even though the coven had spoken, if she really wanted she could have just left. It wouldn't be easy since they would deplete the coven library of every locator spell to search for her day and night, but it wouldn't be totally impossible. In fact she'd seen it done. When the war between her coven and the vampires first broke out, her best friend Bonnie's grandmother was firmly against getting involved, so their family just uprooted overnight. No one in the coven was able to track them down. So yes, she could have followed the precedent. Her mom had even offered to help her.
"If the marriage deal was off the table, would you still consider the truce?"
The smile on his face widened, "so you're not doing this for yourself. How noble."
The mild sarcasm in his words grazed her, "a concept you have trouble understanding, apparently."
"And pray tell what good understanding has done for you?" Something flashed in his eyes, "they're selling you to the wolves, literally. Why are you so willingly going with it?"
He was so close to her she could trace the shape of his lips with her...no, don't go there. Caroline tried to pull herself together, but it was so hard not to notice the warmth radiating off of him, the planes of his muscles subtly lined by the thin fabric of his shirt, just within touch. And his aura. Caroline had seen a vampire or two in the past, and being a witch the dark and decaying aura she gathered from them always repelled her. But Klaus somehow felt different. It was like looking into a moonless night tempered with unintelligible whispers, and even when every bit of her rational mind was screaming danger, another part deep inside her was stirred from its sleep. Excited. Whispering back.
Caroline unconsciously licked her lips, tasting the dark.
Klaus smiled knowingly, feigned mystery in his voice, "or perhaps, you wanted to be rid of your coven all along? One last good deed, and then Caroline the Good Witch can start toying with the dark side."
She pushed him away from her, but it didn't quite wipe the smirk off his face, which infuriated her more than anything, "I'm not doing this for you, you delusional bastard!"
"Are you quite sure? Seems to me it's not worth it risking your life for the people who never saw you as one of their own."
"The same people who taught me everything I know? Who took care of me and kept me safe? Who gave me free ice-creams and helped me look for my lost bike? They are people, Klaus. Not faceless targets that I can just blame everything on." They might be flawed, and they might always see her as a stranger among them. But Caroline would never fully turn her back on them, "do you know how many people have died in the past ten years? How many families were destroyed? They are tired, Klaus, and they don't want to be at war anymore. So if I have a chance to get them out of it, guess what? I'll take it. Even if I have to spend the rest of my life with a monster like you!"
"Is that how you see me then?" His smile turned cold, eyes biting, "a monster? An abomination maybe? Isn't that what all you witches think?"
Caroline snorted. His ability to turn everything about himself really astounded her.
"Actually, no. I don't care if you're a hybrid, or tribrid, or a cloned robot with a dragon tail sticking out of your ass. You are what you are, and it's none of my business." She would never tell him this, but before the war when he was just a half-vampire half-werewolf from the legends, she used to think it really unfair that people called him an abomination. She kind of related to the isolation he must have felt, being something different herself. Well not anymore. "I called you a monster because you're a psychopathic murderer. You kill people and ruin their lives with no remorse!"
To her utter surprise, he laughed at that, his mood instantly turning for the better, "for your information, killing and life-ruining can be quite fun. There's something addictive about having all the power." Tiny creases danced gleefully around his eyes, "does wonders for your adrenaline."
Caroline had to take deep breaths to refrain from giving him an aneurysm, although she could feel her magic roaring like a brewing storm just beyond the horizon of her barely-kept sanity. It wouldn't do her coven any good attacking him on their grounds – verbal offense was one thing, but if she didn't calm herself her rogue powers would probably blow his head off. Whether he died from it or not, the retribution would be severe. So she dug her nails into her palms and formed fists so tight her knuckles nearly cracked, preventing herself from making any hand gestures that would let her powers loose.
"I swear to all spirits Klaus, if you don't stop talking right this second you and your adrenaline can go have all the fun on the Other Side," threatening did feel nice, even when she couldn't act on it. "You think this is fun? You think I want to be married off when I'm barely twenty years old? I am in college! I have a life! I am only home for the summer, after which I have important plans that I had every intention of going back to. But now, I have to put it all on hold for you and your stupid war!"
"And here I thought you weren't doing it for me," Klaus curved his lips teasingly, head tilted back like he was simply enjoying a show. "I don't know what you were taught about me in your magical lessons of contemporary supernatural history – hopefully nothing good, but know this: you people started it."
"Really Klaus? 'You started it'? Where are we, in third grade? It's been ten years!" She threw up her hands, so fed up with his attitude. A part of her mind was nagging her about the truth she saw in his eyes, but it was soon drowned out by her frustration, "you know what? I don't even care. One thing I do know is that I had nothing to do with all of this, but now I am the one who's going to pay the price."
She bent down to pick up her shovel and bucket, only to notice the little dandelion flower she'd dropped at her side during the confrontation. In a sudden fit of rage she snatched the now muddy stem and threw it right into Klaus's face, the hybrid catching it in surprise, "now if you'll excuse me, my days of freedom are numbered, and I sure as hell don't want to waste even a second of it on you."
Klaus seemed unaffected by her words, examining the all-too-common flower with interest, "it takes a bit more than a flower to hurt me, love."
"At least I got you dirty," Caroline answered with a spiteful glare, noticing the dirt staining his fingers. Long, slender fingers that were now playing with the golden petals, eliciting an unbidden flutter in her heart.
Klaus peeked up at her from under his lashes, his smirk suggestive, "if you want me dirty, you need only ask."
Caroline bit her tongue. She walked right into that one. Just as she was foraging for an acerbic comeback, she heard him murmur, "dent de lion. How befitting."
"What?"
Klaus nodded to the flower, and for a fleeting moment Caroline thought she saw genuine affection in those eyes, warm and contented, "it's a beautiful color."
She didn't understand him. One minute he was talking about murder like his daily routine, the next he was singing praises about an ordinary plant. But maybe that was why he was so dangerous, Caroline reminded herself. He was a monster with a human face. So she pushed aside all wonders in her mind about his dimpled smiles, intense eyes, and flower-fiddling fingers. None of it mattered. At the end of the day, he was still the person who would take her life away.
"Too bad it's not painted with your blood."
