The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.
Klaus closes his eyes, his hearing sharp and wired against the sounds that brim the forest. The wind, the snow, flaps of wings and taps of hoofs. He pushes his senses further, seeing in his mind the distinct vibrations of each group of his army lighting up in vivid colors. Valkyries, with the seasoned clanking of their helmets and armors; the low growls and roars of berserkers, the light of elves cutting through leaves and branches; and the Fae people, their magic thrumming like a stream in the wintry air.
This is what he loves about the Hunt. Millions of years have passed and he has yet to get tired of the thrill – something that can't be said about most of the things in his life these days. But the Hunt is different. It runs in his veins like an icy fire decimating the weeds of boredom and lethargy; the world that he once created, that was born out of his mind and spirit, now rushes back towards him with renewed fervor. Every year when the days dwindle and the nights elongate like the insidious fangs of his memory, he leads the joined army of higher beings through the hushed silence of Midgard, and feels rejuvenated... alive.
He remembers what he said to Caroline at her very first Wild Hunt. The girl had seemed nervous back then – nervous, but eager, a thirst gulping in her darting eyes, her hair unconsciously illuminating from the excitement.
"Let it in," he'd said to her. "Let it all in. There's nothing quite like it."
As she closed her eyes with trembling lashes, Klaus watched the thrill rippling across her beautiful face, and wondered if he wasn't too hasty in his judgment.
He doesn't know exactly what has called him out of his reverie, the sound of her hair billowing against her silky gown, the sweet scent of wildflowers and overflowing magic, or just her sole existence registering on the vast map of his omnipresent mind. He can never tell these days, so used to her presence that every fiber of his consciousness flocks to her like moths to flame. Clinging to her, taking her in with a greed that even he himself is ashamed of at times.
But when he opens his eyes and Caroline's smiling face takes over from the rest of the world as the only view he cares about, that shame instantly diminishes, and the greed ten times justified.
Even if that little smile is the only greeting that she spares him. She practically flies past him, her hair knowingly brushing the side of his arm leaving him tingling and voracious. But already she is at the side of his eight-legged steed, petting and nuzzling and cooing. The beast has the gall to look smug under Klaus's hard stare, leaning into Caroline's gentle touch with a whinny.
"Oh I've missed you so much, Sleipnir," she feeds the horse berries – crystals of magical essence that can only be found in the Kingdom of Fae, where magic resides in such abundance that sometimes it drips out of thin air like syrop. Scratching Sleipnir behind his ear, Caroline giggles as the steed crunches on the rare snack.
Klaus watches on with mixed feelings: pleased that she is so close with one of his familiars, dissatisfied that she has greeted the horse before she utters a single word to him, annoyed that he seems to be, and even has to be, jealous of his own horse.
"Stop staring, Nik. It's quite pathetic," his sister Rebekah snorts at his side. "You know you two aren't fooling anyone with..." She makes a gesture towards him and Caroline with pointed disdain, "whatever this is, right?"
"Stop trying to pry, Bekah," Klaus rolls his eyes. "It's none of your business."
"Well, it becomes my business – and everyone's business really – when she flaunts it in our faces."
"You know, she can hear you," Klaus replies absently as his eyes chases Caroline's slender fingers, which are now brushing the frosty manes of a very content Sleipnir. Lucky bastard.
"Then she could also hear all those whispers at the feast, when she was tampering with your drink like your damned concubine."
"Shut it!" Klaus growls, hearing at the same time his brother Kol's cheerful quip, "Nik wishes!"
Klaus glares at his insufferable siblings who seem to take pleasure in giving him grief about Caroline at any given moment, but his mind has already wandered to the feast last night, an annual occurrence that marks the embarkment of the hunt. Caroline looked delectable with her shiny eyes and flushed cheeks, lips stained with wine. She'd surreptitiously sat alongside him, humming softly, decorating the goblet he was holding with little twigs of hollies and spruce, pouring whatever nectar in her cup into his half-finished ale, and then took a sip from his hand as if nobody was watching. And Klaus had let her, without saying a word.
She'd disappeared into the crowd after that, and Klaus had spent the rest of the long night nursing that one single drink, sweet to a fault but surprisingly delicious. The corner of the goblet she'd touched with her lips burned him as much as the lingering feeling of her fingers on his wrist. He ended up tipsy as if he'd drunk an entire ocean's worth of wine.
"What is she playing at anyway?" Rebekah derides, "she covets the attention of a God, she's got it – however fleeting that may be. What's the point of all this act of innocence?"
"Maybe it adds to the fun in the bedroom," Kol happily chimes in. "You never know. Wait, let me rephrase that, Bekah," he wiggles his brows at their youngest sibling, who immediately returns a scowl, "you never know."
Klaus sniggers for a second before sending another glare Kol's way, while Rebekah emphasizes her enraged curse with a blunt hit on the chest for each of them, with her heavy sword no less, "I hope you get devoured by the evil spirits, the both of you!"
Klaus stumbles back slightly from the sheer force of Rebekah's attack, knowing that such a strike from the leader of Valkyries would normally demolish a small village. But as he finds his footing again he feels a familiar hand at his back – too familiar, his heart suddenly chirping like a dumb bird that insists on waiting out the devastating cold of winter. His eyes gravitate to her smiling face, and the dumb bird nearly sings its throat to shreds when he finds, for the thousandth time, that she's returning a similar look, willingly let the world around them fade away in its triviality.
In these moments the pesky little inquiries do not clamor so much in his head. Like how it is that she can look at him like this, but she is still not his queen.
The truth is, even though Kol's vulgar insinuations do have some merit (off the mark as they are), and he can't deny that parading their closeness before the eyes of all the Realms without giving a hint of justification or explanation is mildly amusing, nowadays he is perpetually frustrated at Caroline's cryptic attitude when it comes to him. The little Fae's ensconced herself so cozily in his life, coming and going as she pleases, initiating physical contact whenever she wants with such an aggravating yet sweet sense of entitlement as if she owns him.
Like right now, when she's comfortably secure in his half-embrace, fixing his tangled necklaces, utterly unfazed by Rebekah's scorn and Kol's leer, along with the nosy stares of their entire army.
Only that... she does not own him. At least not in ways that Klaus would like. She takes his affection, his trust, the warmth in his heart and the hum in his bones, and she reciprocates accordingly.
But they both know that Klaus would plea to give her more. If only she accepts.
Suppressing the growing desire to kiss her on the lips, Klaus sighs, wondering how gleefully Kol would mock him if he knows that Klaus has never had a taste. Still, he threads his fingers along hers, craving any touch he can get. Rebekah is right. He is, against the protests of his pride, quite pathetic.
"What do you ever see in her?" Rebekah, as if sensing his silent acquiescence, picks up her line of ridicule, addressing the question to Klaus when Caroline is practically one step away from her. "We really should have just sent her to the Realm of the Dead all those years ago."
"If I remember correctly," Caroline retorts, her words clearly sarcastic when all of them know that the Fae people have a shared memory like their forest has shared roots. She knows exactly what happened all those decades ago when she was still a human girl wandering the deserted streets during the night of a Hunt. "You were all too happy back then to snatch me for your Realm. Just imagine, I could have been a Valkyrie instead..." She taunts Rebekah cheerfully.
"I forgot how incestuous you people can be with the freaky memory thing," Rebekah makes a face. "And just as well – you are as sly and cunning as Faeries come."
"Why thank you," Caroline sends her another saccharine smile. "I knew I chose well, but it's always nice to hear it from someone else's lips." Ignoring Rebekah's answering snort, she turns to face Klaus again, her hand reaching up, gently brushing her knuckles along his jaw line. He can't help but lean into her touch as they share one of their looks, knowing full well what is playing on both minds.
That fateful night decades ago. The night their paths crossed for the first time.
He saw her in the silence spared by the surrounding war cries. She was just steps from the stone temple where the villagers left sacrifices as his offering, holding a piece of stale bread in her trembling hands, which she had clearly stolen from the pile. A little wraith of a thing, no more than twelve or thirteen, thin as her breath in the bone-rattling wind, tattered clothes smeared with streaks of blood that she must have caught while sneaking around in his temple. Her hair and face, though, were surprisingly clean, her eyes a blue void that held nothing as she seemed to cram the piece of bread down her throat.
Klaus knew the kind.
He did not see the need to hide himself, stepping out of the shadows and right into the girl's line of sight. Other than the little wince that she tried hard to tuck back under her shriveled skin, she showed no hint of fear. He watched silently as she straightened up, dusting the bit of crumbs from her shirt before looking up at him, realization dawning in her eyes.
Every child from the village was taught from a young age not to wander off after dark on the night of the winter solstice. People leave offerings on their doorsteps and hung branches of hollies and pines, reminding gods and ghosts alike of the sanctity of their homes. Those who stayed in got immunity from creatures they did not know, as they lay still in bed, distant sounds of hoofs, wings, and metals jangling their sealed windows. Everyone else was fair game. Lost drifters, reckless thugs, starved little girls in the middle of the street.
"Are you going to take me?"
Klaus grinned at the lack of wavering in her voice, "do you want me to?"
"Does it matter what I want?"
Sharp tongue. Klaus inclined his head and studied her, curiosity tickling at the back of his mind, "would you believe me if I say it does?"
The young girl huffed, "you are like, a god, right? It's really bad form for you to toy with a mortal, don't you think? If you want to take me, just do it."
Klaus hummed, "and you are not the least bit concerned where I am going to take you?"
"Why would I be?" She shrugged, as dark shadows traipsed in her downcast eyes, "it's not home. Nowhere is home."
"That may be," Klaus nodded. "But a place not home could still be yours." He didn't miss the fleeting spark in the girl's eyes. "You just have to know how to lay claim to it."
"You mean I don't have to steal, or plea, or beg for it?" The slight edge in her voice belied the seemingly flippant sarcasm. Klaus could see it in her face, in the white of her knuckles, the unsettled stretch of her skin over bones. The desire to grab onto something, and never let go.
"Come with me, and perhaps you will find out."
"Perhaps?" She questioned.
"Perhaps." He challenged.
He knew she wouldn't be able to resist. Still, the tiny nod of her head thrilled him as much as the burst of colors as he extracted her soul. He hadn't done it for years, preferring to only reap the malignant spirits that would put up a fight, leaving the poor wayward wanderers to the rest of his army. He'd almost forgotten the sensation of a fresh innocent soul between his fingers, still sinfully warm from its lingering connections to the body.
Apparently he was not the only one surprised by his odd move. Sensing the powers he radiated, a few members of the Hunt descended upon the clearing while the young girl's soul slowly materialized from thin air. Klaus watched the swirling colors attentively, paying no mind to the approaching footsteps. She truly was magnificent.
"Well isn't this a rare sight," he heard Rebekah's quip behind him. "My brother deigned to deal with a harmless human. Do tell, Nik, what do you get out of this?"
"Your deadly curiosity would suffice," Klaus mockingly peered at her, "which, by the way, shall not be satisfied."
Rebekah raised an eyebrow, "do not bother. What's your reason for doing anything these days if not boredom?"
"You could say that," Klaus replied absently, eyes trained on the young soul that was now looking down at her own corpse lying in the snow.
Klaus was prepared for more of a scene. From what he had seen over the years, the transition from a mortal to a spirit was often harsh and jarring to the point of painful. A lot before her, older, stronger, and mightier, had been reduced to a state of incoherency due to the sudden change. They raved, they cried, they crazed. Some never did recover, roaming the Realm of the Dead as true ghosts, nary a sense of self. He saw from the corner of his eyes a Valkyrie stepping forward, ready to either guide or subdue the disoriented new spirit. But the girl was quiet, kneeling down and taking the cold hand of her own dead body, whispering a "farewell" under her breath. After several moments, she stood up, perfectly calm and contained, her spine locked like steel as if erecting an invisible wall between past and present.
"So, what now?"
He knew they all wanted her from that instant. Even his sister, whose barely condescending tone and surreptitious glances did close to nothing in veiling her intentions. Someone so young but with such poise was hard to come by, and he had no doubt Caroline would make an exceptional warrior in time. Though listening to Rebekah, the Fae Supreme, and some elf to whom he couldn't put a name entering a heated three-way argument on which faction got to keep his great find, Klaus almost regretted his own rule of only acquiring those who died gloriously in battle for Valhalla.
The girl was still quiet, though somehow Klaus knew she wasn't usually the quiet type. Her eyes flashed and sparkled or sometimes clouded over as she stood by the three powerful beings vying for her attention, but she'd held her sharp tongue. Klaus smirked to himself as he watched the girl biting her lower lip. Not without trying, obviously.
When he realized the sudden silence, multiple pairs of eyes were fixed on him.
"So? What do you say, Nik?" Rebekah prompted with an armored elbow digging into his side. Klaus sighed, annoyed. He didn't know why his sister always seemed to work against herself. If he were to make the decision, that unnecessary move of attack wouldn't have earned her any points. However...
He turned to the girl, who for the first time since the bidding war started showed hints of anxiety, her brows slightly furrowed, lashes trembling. Shrewd little thing, she knew exactly who was in charge here. Klaus was more than glad to take her by surprise, "it's up to you."
"Me?" She unconsciously braced herself, as if expecting a catch. "Really?"
"Time to start laying claims," Klaus grinned at her skeptical face. Before she could respond, he turned serious, enunciating his next words while pinning down with a brief glance of his eyes the others in their impromptu little group, a steely weight to his voice, "remember, no matter which Realm you choose, you are going to be your own person. From now on you bow to no one, plea with no one, beg for no one."
Silence. Stunned silence, as everyone present, including Klaus himself, contemplated what had just been uttered, whether it was an encouragement, a command, or... a promise. Silence that the girl eventually broke them out of, with a snort.
"Except you, you mean?"
He should be angry. The impertinence of the little thing, the gall – only a few breaths' old, and already she was retorting against the Allfather, who was defending her no less. He should erase her from existence, he certainly could – with barely a quiver of his little finger she would be no more than a few tiny sparks wasting away in the northern winds. But that particular thought did not please Klaus. And Klaus was nothing if not instantly accommodating to his own pleasure. So instead, he shook his head and smirked at the girl.
"Perhaps."
Klaus has grown to have mixed feelings about that word in recent years. Caroline manages to milk the fun out of it at every chance she gets, often at his expense. Her tone ranges from gentle teasing ("You're saying I'm a grump?" "Perhaps.") to downright taunting ("You're going to disobey me regardless of what I said." "Perhaps."), rendering Klaus speechless either by an inexplicable urge to smile or an annoyance so unbecoming that everyone greets him with "what happened with Caroline" as if that's his rightful title, which only serves to further his vexation.
Maybe he shares something in common with his sister after all. Even if it's in the "working against oneself" department.
But if anyone in the family gets the crown in that regard it's definitely his younger brother Kol, who for some reason has been getting hit right in the eyes by rushing snowflakes for the past few minutes. The youthful God exclaims dramatically every time at the assault, using a great amount of magic to form an invisible shield around himself, but the snowflakes just keep sneaking their way in. Without even looking, Klaus knows for certain who is behind the very justifiable strike against his brother – Kol was just moments ago openly bragging his proclivity to the Fae people in some quite lewd language. Plus, Klaus can feel a few strands of Caroline's long hair involuntarily curling around his fingers like vines, a tell-tale sign of excitement that he isn't even sure Caroline herself is aware of.
It's moments like these that reassure him once in a while where he stands with the beautiful Fae.
But deep-down Klaus knows he's being unfair, and greedy, and everything he's accused himself of countless times. There might have been a lack of verbal confirmation on Caroline's side, but surely her actions speak more than what he could ever ask for, actions such as when she slightly turns to the side and hides her giddy smirk in the heavy fur of his collar, tips of hair tickling his palm as the curves of her body press so deliciously against him.
Yes, he is being unfair, and greedy, and so much more... But can she really blame him?
Klaus gives yet another suffering sigh inwardly and looks down at Caroline, who seems conveniently oblivious to his inner struggles. She's too busy trying to contain her giggles, but finally a peal of laughter breaks out from Klaus's shoulder where she has all but buried her face, followed by Kol's enraged shout.
"Hey! I know it's you!"
Caroline turns to him, flushed cheeks and tousled hair, too breathtaking to be facing anyone straight – if it were up to Klaus that look would be strictly restricted to him, and him alone. But as history serves to remind him, it is often not up to him, and so there goes the shiny sparkly little Fae, with her smile so bright that she has to share with every damned creature in the vicinity. "The trickster got tricked, surprise, surprise."
"You think you are so powerful, huh, little Faerie?" Kol tuts, "bolstered by your position hiding behind Nik."
Klaus bristles at the innuendo. But Caroline beats him to the retribution, while brushing a thumb along his tensed knuckles.
"You sure like to talk about positions, since apparently that's the only thing you know." Caroline shrugs, "shared memories, remember? Anyway, on behalf of my fellow Fae – going through your list of a thousand moves does not make it good."
Caroline looks triumphant as even Rebekah spares a few sounds of genuine laughter after making a disgusted face.
"That was one time! Centuries ago! And they were very slippery, mind you - "
Klaus grimaces. As much as he adores a triumphant Caroline and her self-satisfied little smile, he does not need to hear this. Caroline, however, seems to be enjoying it immensely.
"Really? Well Enzo told me just a few days ago -"
"You take that back!"
Klaus tunes out their bickering as soon as he hears the name Enzo, a sour taste now at the back of his throat. He has never heard of a single word in existence so unpleasant to the ears, especially delivered by Caroline's melodic voice. But recently it seems to be the only thing that he hears on a regular basis, with Caroline working it naturally into every one of their conversations. Theirs. Klaus's and Caroline's. So why does that sneaky wily little Faerie get to make his presence known when Klaus just wants to bask in Caroline's all-around loveliness?
Honestly he does not see the appeal. The little bastard is a new recruit, having joined the Realm of Fae but for several years. Yet already he's won Caroline's friendship, sharing every living moment with her from practicing magic to wandering the last scrap of unfamiliar land they can find in the Realm (can the imbecile not for once explore the "amazing views of the Mystic Falls on the Southern border of the Realm" by himself?); Not only that, but Klaus has to be subjected to the mind-boggling news that Kol is also quite taken with him, and the three merrily go on their wondrous little adventures all the time now, which Caroline always regales Klaus in just the right amount of details to leave him itching for more, but too prideful and petulant and filled with jealousy to prod.
Yes. These days Klaus finds himself even more prone to jealousy than he always has been. He's jealous of his siblings, of the lost souls that Caroline so graciously guide during the Hunt, of the Fae people and their trees and flowers and vines that perpetually share a space with Caroline; He's jealous of his damned horse. But most of all, he's jealous of a freshly turned Fae named Enzo, who just happens to step into his line of sight right this second.
Klaus's fingers clench around nothing – Caroline has already flown out of his touch into the scheming arms of that Enzo.
They greet, much too cheerily for his liking, the hug too long, their faces too close, the way Enzo whispers into Caroline's ear too grating. It's not as if they haven't seen each other yesterday, or hadn't seen each other every single day before all the Realms gathered for the Hunt. Klaus is stoutly convinced that Enzo is doing it just to provoke him – not that he is provoked by such simple trickery, just offended – but the fact that Caroline is an accomplice in the act, knowingly or not, makes Klaus want to burn something to ashes and then revive the ashes into the most grotesque replica just for the sake of burning it again. Preferably Enzo.
Said bastard still has one arm slung over Caroline's shoulders, loitering with a smirk as Kol approaches them in feigned nonchalance. All Klaus desires is to cut that arm off and feed it to his ravens; but then blood would splash and ruin Caroline's perfect winter dress… Oh well, small sacrifices.
He's still secretly picturing what to do with the rest of Enzo's maimed body when Kol plants himself just half a step away from the Fae, billowing hems of his cloak brushing Enzo's shin when there isn't a sliver of wind at the moment.
"It's about time you showed up."
Klaus hears Rebekah make a gagging noise, "I cannot watch this. First you, now him. What's with you lot and those Faeries?" He files away the annoyance as yet another one of Enzo's maim-warranting offenses.
The young Fae, not knowing his time-and-again revised and increasingly abysmal fate, answers Kol with a cheeky grin, "why? Did you miss me?"
Kol rolls his eyes, pointing a finger towards Enzo, and then Caroline, "you, and you. This bloody habit of yours – answering everything with questions. I don't care who got it from whom, but it's not cute."
Caroline crosses her arms in front of her chest, "and you're the judge of that?"
"Of you, maybe not," Kol gave a salacious wink, glancing at Klaus before turning his gaze to Enzo, "this one here, however..."
"Think carefully before you finish that sentence," Enzo leans back slightly, but the tip of his boot is now tracing Kol's hemline. Rebekah groans.
"Just so you know," Caroline pushes Enzo away, fixing him and Kol with a disapproving stare, "I do not like what is happening here."
"Oh come on Gorgeous," Enzo laughs. "Don't be so hasty in passing judgments."
"She's only judgmental because she's a prude," smirking, Kol sets his piercing eyes on Caroline. "It's been... how many decades now? I mean, I'm all for delayed gratification if that's your thing – personally I never understood the appeal – but you've got to give Nik something. Look at the poor lad, he looks like he's been wearing a cock ring for -"
He's cut short by a sudden fire breaking out rapidly all around his body, his cloak and outer jacket incinerated in mere seconds. Klaus's looming bellow makes it absolutely clear who's responsible for the attack, "that's enough, Kol!"
For someone who's being burned alive, Kol is handling the situation with irritating aplomb. Not even hurrying to douse the fire, he opens his arms wide and looks himself over, shaking his head in theatrics, "pity. Such a nice cloak. Now you've done it, Nik. I traded three pieces of juicy gossip about you in the Realm of the Elves for this, all of which are true, mind you. Whatever brings out such a temper, I wonder."
Enzo, who has jumped away from Kol the moment he went ablaze, drawls with a smirk, "sore spot, obviously."
"More like throbbing -"
"That's it."
Just as Klaus proceeds to eliminate both the wretched Fae and his own brother from all the Realms ever known to the living or the dead, he is interrupted by Caroline's snarl, the blonde now standing directly between him and Kol, half blocking his view of his flaming brother. In a blink's time, the young God is no longer burning, with only smoke rising from his direction. Klaus can tell that Caroline's vexed even though she's the one who extinguished the fire, her spine rigid, shoulders locked into a harsh angle. From the sheer material of her dress the exquisite ridges of her shoulder blades peer through, shaking in anger, begging to be touched. Somehow the scene of her ire appeases his own, and with his eyes trained on her figure Klaus feels the red clouding his vision gradually dissipate.
Her face turned towards Kol, Caroline demands in a clipped tone, "no magic, no tricks, we fight with swords. If I win, you leave him -" She clenches her fists, "you leave us alone."
She whirls back then, stalking to Klaus's side and, without meeting his eyes, draws the sword from the scabbard that he carries on his back. The cold abrasive sound of metal turns his body into flint, his muscles now taut and aware, craving flames. Klaus's breath hitches as he watches Caroline with keen eyes, following the curl of her delicate fingers around the heavy hilt, thumb tracing the carvings that he once forged himself.
A curious thrum in his heart, Klaus remembers that this is not the first time Caroline has held his sword.
He didn't use to sleep. In his secluded Realm where there was no night nor day, sleep seemed pointless.
He didn't use to dream either. Dreams were reserved for mortals in whose lives there would always be impossibilities, vaguely shaped gapes that needed to be wrapped in hazy imageries, and ventured into hypothetically, for only half of their already fleeting life. For a God who created anything and everything, dreams had no meaning. Whatever was not yet in existence, he could choose to realize. Or not, depending on his mood.
On the rare occasions that he did succumb to the act of sleep for reasons that would probably be best described as enervating boredom, he dreamed of Ragnarök. The doom of all Gods and all creatures, with the Realms going up in flames and then swallowed by waters. The inevitable end that he did not know when to expect, or what the outcome would be. Upon darkness he only saw more darkness.
So suffice it to say, he hated dreaming.
That was before Caroline.
Now, he still didn't sleep much. But sometimes when Caroline dropped into his Realm smelling like chilled air and fresh dew, her blonde curls ever wilder from her nocturnal jaunts, he could almost taste the night on his tongue. The sweet dark respite that he'd weaved into existence with his own fingers like the finest fabric, but whose touch on his skin he had long since forgotten. On those days he would be tempted to close his eyes, with Caroline's head cradled in the juncture between his shoulder and chest, or with her arm wound around his torso. Her wild hair always undulated under his chin, like an endless spring meadow.
On those days Klaus would dream, or rather, remember. Just below the surface of consciousness, memories replayed of everything that was Caroline. He never expected he would feel like this. He knew the exhilaration of creation, of discovery, the utmost elation of unveiling something for the first time. But thrilling as those moments were, they were also ephemeral; upon the second try they always fell flat, and onwards they just got staler and staler, diminishing even the luscious glow of the first experience. He never expected he would feel so strongly about anything, let alone anyone, that he would willingly relive the memory of them, again and again, as if once was not enough.
So he dreamed of the Caroline that he had known, while the present Caroline slept next to him, fresh mysteries and possibilities sprouting from her at any moment. This bemusing duet intertwined into his soul, but instead of trapped or threatened, Klaus only felt the tenderest pain from a part of himself that he couldn't name, torturously comforting.
He could feel her waking up, her eyelashes tickling the bare skin just below his clavicle, and Klaus sighed in content. They stayed in the lulling silence for a moment longer, before Caroline's soft voice joined in the tickling.
"So... you're a God."
Klaus hummed, "that I am."
"And you created everything and everyone."
"More or less."
"You designed our... behaviors." There was a wonder in her voice so endearing to Klaus. Without lowering his eyes, he could picture the little frown adorning the flawless skin between her brows, a spot that Klaus had to restrain himself countless times not to fit his lips to.
"Not all of them. Some were purely individual, and quite an amusement to observe." Her tendency to chew on her lower lip when she was deep in thought, for one. "But the basic ones, yes."
"So why do we sleep?"
Klaus chuckled, a teasing flair to his tone, "because you need it. It's the only refuge in the hardship that is life."
Caroline huffed, "then why do you sleep?"
"Because I can." He replied airily. He didn't tell her that it was close to the truth – that the very reason it could happen was nestling right in his arms.
"Condescension is deplorable. Especially when you are a God."
"So you think I'm deplorable?" He pressed a hand to his heart, putting on a wounded look.
He could almost hear the smiling eye-roll in her response, "I think you take way too much pleasure in me judging you." Still, her hand raised to the part of his chest that was allegedly injured, and soothed it in small circles with the tips of her fingers.
Klaus smiled, entranced by the movements of her fingers, "it's hard not to."
They fell back into the comfortable cocoon of silence. It sometimes amazed Klaus how at ease they were with each other. They talked about anything that sparked an interest, and had yet to run out of topics after the decades they kept each other company; but silence also agreed with them, the wordless peace huddled between them like a living thing, warm, nearly purring.
His eyes were still on Caroline's fingers, which were now performing mindless acts on the stage that was his chest. Two fingers standing on their tips, alternating to move one before the other. Humans walking. Then the taps became heavier, slower, the two fingers moving side by side. Giants. Fast slides in a zigzagging pattern. Klaus laughed. Was that Caroline's rendition of Valkyries? A few light taps, then a long floating leap, landing in the distance. No doubt her self-image as a Fae.
She kept on with her little show, fingers moving all the way down across Klaus's chest and ribs to his belly, then another aggressive dash forward – a Berserker this time – and suddenly those playful fingers retreated, as if burned. Cursing under his breath, Klaus willed his obvious arousal down for a few moments, before giving up altogether, a spiteful though gnawing inside. He didn't see the need to hide. He shouldn't be expected to hide.
While he was quietly fuming, Caroline sat up from his bed and made a motion to leave, mumbling something about needing to get back to the Realm of Fae. Surprisingly, she was tugged back with a gasp. Klaus looked up and saw the culprit – two strands of their hair messy from the nap, tangled together between them like an accidental message. Caroline let out a giggle, her momentary embarrassment all forgotten.
"Now I see why you were so against long hair."
Klaus raised an eyebrow, "color me shocked. Did Caroline the Ever-Correct just concede that I was right for once?"
"If I ever color you anything, it would probably be magenta, so don't put any ideas in my head." Klaus shuddered inwardly at the image. "And I said I understood your perspective. I didn't say you were right."
Klaus smiled at the haughty tip of her nose. She was playing with his hair earlier, growing it out using magic, claiming that she'd never seen him with hair reaching lower than his shoulders, and she was curious. After Klaus had graciously let her do so with only a perfunctory glare, she'd laughed in his face, and forbidden him from turning it back. Once again, Klaus had gone along with her whims. It'd been long since established that there was little he wouldn't let her get away with.
She was staring at him intently now, a look that she sometimes got when she was around him, but one he couldn't quite decipher. He'd been worshipped before, revered, feared even. But when Caroline looked at him like this, he didn't feel so... grand. So high and mighty, above all Realms and all creatures, a single entity that was beyond scrutiny. No. When he was enveloped in Caroline's gaze he felt as if being gently lowered to the deepest hearth of the earth, and then elevated from scratch. He'd never been elevated, never imagined it, the notion an equivalent to impossibility given his godly status.
Yet there was no other word to describe how he felt, when Caroline looked at him like this.
"You really are beautiful," she smiled shyly, palm stroking his knee. "Promise you'll leave it like this for a while, at least until I come back the next time?"
"And what do I get out of this inconvenience?" He teased her.
She ignored him totally, a finger tapping on his kneecap to stress the point, "do. Not. Cut. It."
Klaus knew he should not give in so easily. He did not simply give anything, rarely even granted. But apparently Caroline asked for neither. She simply barged into his static life and took whatever she wanted. Then of course, it was hers.
Of course. "Fine," Klaus grunted, sitting up. "But I'm not keeping it for long, so you better hurry back."
Caroline was about immune to his gazing-up-from-under-my-lashes-but-damned-if-I'm-begging looks now, though she still laughed indulgently, "yes, yes, your Highness."
She raised a finger, about to magically disentangle their strands of hair, but suddenly something clenched in Klaus's heart, and his hand shot out closing around her wrist to stop her, before his mind registered the reason. He stared at the intertwined knot, entranced, the dark and light blonde twisting around each other so naturally into something more... permanent. Something that he couldn't just let disappear. So without a word he reached his other hand out and called forward his sword from thin air, and with the gentlest move, he cut both strands off, still entangled.
For a moment he was just holding the evidence of his paltry sentimentality, lost in thought, until Caroline, equally gently, took it from him while grabbing his sword, laying it aside.
"No need to bring sharp edges in bed. You could've just said so, you know," she chided, a little listlessly, yet her eyes were speaking so much more, a myriad of thoughts or non-thoughts tangled but also somehow settled, like their hair bound together. She opened the box brooch she was wearing that day, and curled the long strands securely inside. When she closed the box and looked back up, smile bright and eyes shining, something burst out from Klaus's lips.
"Caroline... I fancy you." She gasped, but he didn't wait for a response, waves of emotions suddenly overflowing his chest, "more than fancy you. But surely you already know that. I..." He took a deep breath and berated himself inwardly for the stuttering. He was acting like a lovesick human, who knocked on the doors of their intended, leaving the bloody carcasses with their eyes wandering and their tongues tied. But to be honest he would rather leave a thousand carcasses to paint the Fae's Realm red, if only, if only...
"Will you ever be my Queen?"
Caroline just stared at him, her beautiful lips opening and closing a few times, an unreadable expression on her face. She looked way too calm for someone who held Klaus's immortal heart in her bare hands, and in that moment Klaus resented her a little. But the moment was fleeting as Caroline grazed her knuckles along his jawline, and resentment melted into uncertainty, a feeling that weakened Klaus even more. He hated it. Yet he craved her fingers and their loving motions, grudgingly wished that she would never ever stop, even if he knew her belated response would not satisfy him. Not fully.
But she did take him by surprise, "as a God who's been around since the beginning of time, you have no patience."
Klaus felt himself leaning into her palm against his own resolve. His reply, though intended to be defensive, sounded suspiciously close to pouting, "I've been more than patient."
"Have you?" She lightly pinched his cheek, and Klaus balked with a huff. "It's been what? Five, six decades? That's nothing in our lifetime."
"It's long enough."
Caroline did not budge, "and tell me this, Klaus: what exactly would 'being your Queen' entail?"
Klaus frowned, gritting his teeth at the incisive question. He thought about the time that seemed to have started flowing since he laid his eyes upon her. The Caroline-shaped void that she'd carved out in his mind and soul, that she emptied and filled a million times over driving him crazy with every single emotion known to man and God. The longing burning inside of him day and night, for her and only her. Though always a man of eloquence, he didn't trust himself to articulate any of it. He didn't think he needed to. "It wouldn't be worthy if I could just spell it out."
Caroline nodded, thoughtfully, reading something from his stoic, exposed face, "you might be right. But Klaus... I've seen things. From my memories. Well, not my memories, but... I've seen things. I've seen you." She swallowed, "and I know I've also seen more than that. More than anyone else. But the thing is, I also need to see myself, before I'm sure."
His heart lurched, "about me?"
"About us."
He must have looked crestfallen then, because she hurried to take hold of his hand, intertwining their fingers, "don't worry." She leaned close, giving him a nudge with her shoulder to lighten up the mood. "Contrary to you, I know exactly where this is going."
Klaus sighed, admitting defeat under her smile, "and I have absolutely no say in the matter?"
She shook her head smugly, rippling golden tresses almost blinding his eyes, "you're just along for the ride."
That was more than a decade ago. Since then Klaus hasn't revisited the subject, not when Caroline came back to braid his long hair and made him wear it for months, and certainly not afterwards. Oh, there are the ever-present hints and the looks brimming with scorching desire he's constantly throwing her way, but he doesn't want to push Caroline any more than necessary. When the time is right, she would come to him – she's sure of it. And miracle out of all miracles, Klaus trusts her.
But his patience is reserved for Caroline. He will not tolerate anyone else, especially not his younger siblings, to throw it in his face. But those meddling siblings of his who thrive on chaos can't seem to relent on this day, their spirits raised to an annoying high by the imminent Hunt. While one is challenging – or rather being challenged, but still his fault – Caroline into a sword fight, the other ambles toward him with a gleeful smirk.
"Not now, Rebekah," he growled, eyes busy following Caroline's every move.
But his sister has never adhered to that particular line of reasoning. Arms crossed and shoulders slanted, Rebekah taunts him in her conspiratorial whisper, "are you mad because she's fighting for your honor? Or because she'd rather fight Kol of all people, than address this perverted thing between you?"
Klaus spares her a cold glare, "consider yourself extremely lucky that Caroline has my sword right now."
And she's holding it with a grace that he hasn't expected. He's only seen her use magic during the Hunts, yet judging from her stance and posture she's not a stranger to the weapon.
Her opponent clearly sees it as well, choosing instead to rile her up with more meaningless jeers, "better give up now, little Faerie." Kol circles Caroline cautiously, his own sword held in front of him, "you are no sword fighter."
Caroline stands her ground, "neither are you." And she's astutely correct. Out of all the old Gods, Kol is probably the least proficient in sword fighting. Thousands of years ago, when they were younger, Kol used to challenge and then get thoroughly vanquished by Rebekah yearly around the Hunt, until he finally stopped trying altogether. He always had more of a proclivity towards magic.
"Impertinent little thing, aren't you?" Kol sneers, "sword fighter or not, I am still a God."
Caroline rolls her eyes at him, "like I haven't seen one of those before."
"Oh, I bet you've seen one alright."
"And judging by the tone, less than impressed," Enzo chimes in, brazenly glancing at Klaus. Oh he's going to pay for that.
But once again Caroline beats Klaus to the punch, though not as viciously as he would like. Flipping her head to the overjoyed Fae, she snapped at him, "who's side are you on?"
"I don't pick sides, Gorgeous," Enzo shrugs. "I pick drama."
Ignoring Kol's exclamation of "a Fae after my own heart", Caroline snorts, "I swear each day he's rubbing off on you more." Swerving back to Kol, she points Klaus's sword at his throat before the trickster God can utter another lewd comment, "don't you dare!"
"Thank the nine Realms for that," Rebekah bites out.
"Seriously, are we going to fight or just stand here and chat all day?"
"Just one last thing, darling," drawls Kol. "You haven't heard my wager yet."
"No need, because you are not going to win."
"When I win," Kol winks at her unaffected, "how about you tell us what Nik is to you?"
"How about I win and you shut the hell up!"
Caroline charges at him.
She took to magic like no other. It was almost unheard of for a human adopted into the Realm of Fae, but she was learning fast, and though the other Fae people did not outright mention it, Klaus saw the glowing amazement speckled with jealousy on their faces during the Hunts. He asked Caroline once about her master control of the elements, but the young Fae merely shrugged, her fingers twirling in convoluted patterns with breathtaking agility, making snowflakes fall in Klaus's private Realm. The Fae people possess some of the oldest and most esoteric magic in all the Realms combined, and even with the shared memories, the level of expertise in practice varied from one individual to another. Yet it all seemed oddly natural to Caroline, the snowflakes gathering in her open palm suddenly growing into a minuscule forest, with Sleipnir running in the midst.
Apart from the wonders blooming in his heart, Klaus was glad his horse wasn't present to have his ego stroked. The beast got enough actual strokes during the Hunts as it was.
"What? It's not that hard," Caroline had answered him then. "The elements are just there. Yes, they are all messy and jumbled, but that's where I come in." A slight jiggle of her fingers, and the sprinting steed turned into a dancing Klaus, which Caroline quickly transformed into a dancing Kol under Klaus's hard glare. Klaus did not know if he should feel better about the alteration. "I like rearranging stuff."
She likes rearranging stuff. There you have it, the profound secret behind extraordinary magic mastery.
Klaus had to smile.
He was smiling a lot more these days, something so peculiarly unexpected. But truth be told peculiarities such as these abounded in his life after she came along. He smiled (without menace), he chatted (without boredom), he permitted her to invite herself repeatedly into his exclusive Realm where only he and his solitary mind resided (without ever being asked for permission).
He even started creating again, something he hadn't felt the desire to do for a few dozen centuries at least. It used to be rewarding, seeing Realms and creatures gradually take shape under his compelling fingers, sculpting world after world as his mind would command. He didn't know when he lost interest. Whatever shapes forming in his palms felt nothing but monotonous, and every single time he wiped them clean long before the finish line. He took a hiatus from the act, observing how some of his creations infected his other creations instead. But after a while even that sparked nothing in him.
Though with Caroline's constant chatter probing and intruding, the pitter patter of her footsteps snooping around the land he reserved for himself, he had to resort to at least acting like he was occupied. So he pretended. He pretended to have his hands full with the latest creation project with a perpetual scowl, pretended that he was not secretly watching Caroline, and above all he pretended that he was not enjoying it. But somehow, between all the pretension, something reignited inside him. One day when he was focusing hard on keeping a straight face and not chuckling or worse stare at the adorable scene of Caroline reorganizing his chaotic pile of books and scrolls, he glanced at the nascent shape glowing right before his eyes and froze.
Once again, after centuries, he felt flickers of passion towards one of his own creations.
He went into a few years of a prolific period, holed up in his Realm, creating with renewed frenzy. Knowing how he was, his siblings didn't see the need to check on him, while others knew better than to bother him in his space. All except for one.
Once in a while when he looked up from his most recent fascination, Caroline would be there. She'd learned some time ago that talking did not always work when he was in such a state, too preoccupied to answer. What she didn't know, or didn't acknowledge, was that he always felt her presence. Whenever she was there, an unmistakable vibration on all his senses, he felt the dizzying rush of something almost pouring out of him. As if his whole being turned into all the rivers in Midgard, and her the ocean. The strange eagerness kept him on the verge of exclaiming, striding over, throwing his arms around her, and then what he didn't know... But the inevitability of it all retained his silence.
He let it pour from his fingers. Wings, teeth, hills, and valleys.
The world may be none the wiser, but everything he created since resembled her a little.
At one point Caroline found the perfect little trick to while away her time in his presence. She'd plant herself right alongside him, making an exact replica of what he was constructing at the moment. Of course she could only build out of elements, but the likeness was uncanny. On any other occasion Klaus would commend her on her magical prowess, and deep down he was a melting snowball of mixed emotions – almost preening at her attention, overly content with the company, plus simply enthralled by her sheer brilliance and competitiveness; but for the insolence alone she got a smirking gibe.
"Keep in mind that you are one of my creations. I doubt you can surpass that."
"I am the descendant of one of your creations," ignoring the backhanded compliment, Caroline corrected him matter-of-factly. "I am the proof that I have already surpassed that."
Then she sauntered over, her long hair falling all over Klaus's still outstretched arm as she leaned forward towards the new continent that he was fashioning. Klaus's body froze. For a few moments he didn't notice the passage of time, let alone Caroline tampering with the little world before them. Minutes later, he was left with an empty Realm, an "I'll see you around", a whiff of Caroline floating in the air, a body still reveling in Caroline's warmth, and a fiery-pit-turned lake of gems shimmering in the land that he devised.
That they devised.
He was shocked, not only because the land looked so much better with the small modification – it did – but mostly because of the sheer fact that Caroline was able to do it. The capability for creation had always lain with the Gods, and the Gods alone. In the past, creatures from all Realms had attempted to usurp the position of unparalleled power, but as far as Klaus knew none had succeeded. An adjustment to his work in progress, however tiny it may be, took God-like faculties. Yet Caroline had done it so easily, with a flick of her wrist, while distracting him with her soft warm body.
Klaus could not explain it. And anything in existence that he could not explain captivated him. Over the years he watched Caroline with keen eyes, simply enjoying the elegant ways she wielded magic, but expecting there was more; he felt almost triumphant whenever something sharp and ferocious peered through the veneer. He wondered, again and again, why a meager human-turned Fae hosted such intriguing powers in her, and his inability to find an answer somehow made him want to know her more.
More than he already wanted her.
"What is hunger like?" He'd asked her once, remembering that Caroline's parents had died years before he found her, and she had to go from door to door, stealing or begging for scraps to keep herself alive. He didn't feel overly sympathetic to the situation, just mildly curious.
Caroline didn't seem to mind his insouciance. She was floating midair near his bed, magically redecorating the void space with giant shelves and cabinets into which she would sort the pile of what she called "divine paraphernalia" including all kinds of things Klaus had gathered through his life, half of which he'd long forgotten he even had. If he was being honest, he didn't see the need to place them so literally out in the open. He could create a thousand voids in the blink of an eye to throw this trash in. But Caroline looked so lovely when she was indulging in no doubt one of her more humanly quirks, her lips slightly pulled in and eyes attentive.
Klaus could watch her for days like that. So what if it required him scattering more earthly possessions around his space?
Guiding a bejeweled chest onto one of the shelves with a finger, Caroline glanced at him, "why do you ask?"
Klaus smirked, moving the chest to a lower shelf, "it's one of the few sensations in the world that I have not experienced."
"Sure you have," Caroline frowned, raising the chest back up and settling it in the initially-designated spot.
"Enlighten me," Klaus tried to move the chest yet again, but found it fixed in place this time. Lifting an eyebrow at Caroline, he earned back a defiant half-glare and a flip of her long intricate braids from the Fae.
"Maybe you haven't experienced hunger for food, but there must be something in your life that you desire, and cannot have."
"Presumptuous, are you not?" The smirk was now wiped from Klaus's face, and his voice deceptively devoid of inflection.
Caroline jumped down from her perch in the air and landed facing him, her eyes holding his despite him. Her hair was entirely pulled back from her face today, leaving her expressions even more open and transparent than usual, which made Klaus's chest tighten in a surge of equal parts desire and uneasiness. Sometimes Caroline's staunch refusal to put a shutter over her soul scared him, even though he chronically masked it as annoyance.
"Come on, Klaus. You're going to stand there and tell me that there's nothing in the world that you want, but cannot get? That you haven't felt like you crave for something so much you can taste it burning in your throat? You feel this living thing that is howling and convulsing in your stomach, in your chest, in your bones that are suddenly hollowed out. It wheezes within you until that desperate breath becomes yours, every second of every day. Can you honestly tell me that you have never felt that before?"
Klaus stalked towards her until they were so close he could taste the magic radiating from her, wild berries and a strike of lightning. He pushed down the impulse to inhale, and bit out, "what is it that you are really asking, Caroline?"
Her eyelashes flickered, downward to his lips and then up, irises now almost a stormy black, "I thought we were having a conversation about something that you don't know."
"Deflecting. How adorable," he grinned humorlessly, his nameless anger slightly assuaged when he saw her nostrils flare. "Riddle yourself this, Caroline: is it something I don't know, or something you don't want me to know?" He took half a step more, his lips hovering over her ear, "Or rather, something that you suspect I know all along, but that you are not ready to hear?"
Caroline leaned back, staring at him, the stretched lines of her neck so delicate he wanted to make them into the skylines in yet another new land. Or lick them till she cried out. But he merely stared back, and moments later Caroline lowered her head, laughing a little, though breathlessly, "you Gods with your riddles. You should really stop doing that. Sounds ungracious, you know?"
Klaus didn't reply. He was ready to let her off the hook this time, but not entirely. "What do you do?" He stepped back, wandering over to the end of the bed where a few unsorted items still lay, and sat down. Looking back, he saw confusion in Caroline's eyes, so he clarified, "when you feel hunger such as what you described."
He did not mean for it to come out so vulnerable.
Averting his eyes, he examined the odd things scattered around him, and picked up the chest piece of an old set of armor. There was a slash running sideways across the metal, but he could not remember when or where it was from. He put it down, feeling Caroline sitting down across from him, with only the chest piece between them. Klaus busied himself with observing the vague reflection of her profile on the rough and stained surface when suddenly, Caroline covered his hand with hers. He looked up and drank in the colored version of her, so much more beautiful, but somehow even more inscrutable than her mirrored image.
"I just keep breathing," she whispered. Her chest heaved faintly, as if that very hunger was gasping inside of her right then, as she held his eyes. He wondered if their hunger recognized each other. If those wretched beasts were per chance more forthright than they were.
Finally Caroline peeled her eyes and her breaths away from Klaus, picking up the chest piece, a finger running along the slash. "How did you get this?"
Klaus shrugged, a lone hand moving aimlessly until it settled on the floral embroideries that trimmed her dress. Fingers playing with the finely detailed pistil, he shrugged, "this one I truly do not know."
Caroline huffed a gentle sound between a laugh and a sigh, before her palm started to glow. Klaus watched in open-lipped fascination as the gash knitted back together like an ancient valley, until there was nothing but a seamless plain in sight.
"You are aware that you're not supposed to be able to do what you just did?"
Caroline wiggled her brows, "I'm full of surprises."
"That you are," Klaus traced the back of her hand playfully with a finger, making her squirm. "Between the landscapes and my armor..." Objects that were infused with his magical essence. Impervious even to other Gods.
"Better watch out then," Caroline caught his finger with a mesh of interlacing offshoots, magical tendrils that sprouted from nowhere and curled around his flesh and bone. A tiny bud of flower was emerging where his knuckle was. "My magic's growing fast. Maybe one day I can fix you if I want to."
"Do you?" Klaus held her gaze, unblinking.
Caroline smiled. Klaus felt the tiny flower blossoming on his enmeshed finger.
"Maybe not. I like you as you are. Stains and slashes and all."
Klaus can't hold back the small grin at the corner of his lips when Caroline parries yet another blow from Kol. She looks ravishing when she fights – she always does, but the image of her nimble figure leaping and riposting with his sword in hand calls forward a rush of almost visceral feelings inside of him. A few rounds of attack and defense in he could already tell that, contrary to earlier suspicions, Caroline had no real experience in sword fighting. But she is smart and alert, nearly devious as she calmly smokes out Kol's unshakable habits and immediately uses them to her advantage; plus she obviously has learned a trick or two from the millions of fights documented in those shared memories of Fae.
Especially from him. Klaus squints as Caroline steps on Kol's attacking sword and strikes down harshly from her vantage point, recognizing the move as one of his own.
He really could drag her aside and drown her in his heated gazes if not for the irritating fact that she's in the middle of a sword fight with his nuisance of a brother. Well, he could, but he wouldn't shoulder her wrath for Kol in a million years. So he'll have to settle for doing it from a distance.
"It pains me to say this," Rebekah comments, her amused tone not at all matching her exaggerated word choice, "but it's a shame she chose to be a Fae. She could've made a half-decent Valkyrie."
"Your loss," Klaus answers with a noncommittal shrug. He doesn't know how Rebekah would react if he ever revealed to her the reason behind Caroline's choice. He'd imagine disastrous, considering Caroline only went with the Fae people because her late mother used to tell her bedtime stories about them.
She's unpredictable like that, the little Fae. Klaus hears Enzo let out another annoying cheer as Caroline lifts herself upside-down with the heavy sword digging into the snowy ground and kicks Kol right in the head.
"We agreed no magic!" Though protesting, Kol instantly counters with a shrewd move of going for her sword, trying to hack it apart, but Caroline is one step ahead, already withdrawing her weapon and circling to Kol's back.
"I'm not using magic. It's not my fault if the elements are helping me." She brushes the snow from the blade, and even from a distance Klaus can hear the distinct sound of his sword humming under her finger. Is there anything of his that doesn't mindlessly answer to her like a silly underwater fish to a hole in the ice?
"She is mildly tolerable when she's fighting, I'll give you that." Rebekah bumps his shoulder, dragging him back from unvoiced rhetorical questions, her tone now threatening, "but if you dare get an erection in my presence I will hit you where it hurts."
"I know where that is!" Kol, who is clearly eavesdropping, shouts out over Klaus's growl. Seizing his moment of distraction, Caroline delivers the fatal strike. In the blink of an eye Kol's weapon is knocked out of his hand and the cold edge of Caroline's (Klaus's) sword is pressed against his throat.
"I believe it's time you shut up," Caroline smirks.
Despite Kol's incessant clamor for a rematch, Klaus insists that they convene with the armies and get ready for the Hunt. But he suspects that what eventually shuts Kol up is a ruthless blow on his chest from Rebekah, and a few shameless gropes on his back where a combination of fire and sword has left large patches of bare skin, from a Fae whose name is ground into a pulp at the back of Klaus's teeth (he does not need to see that). Finally they are assembled at a clearing with throngs of creatures from all Realms, but not before Klaus pulls Caroline aside and presses a gentle kiss on her flushed cheek when everyone pretends not to be watching.
"You were brilliant."
"Like there's ever any doubt," Caroline smiles smugly, eyes shining brighter than the stars traveling languorously through the night sky. When those stars finish their monotonous journey and drop from the horizon her eyes would still shine like this, still at him. The random notion fills Klaus with inexplicable joy and trepidation.
Caroline sees it, but doesn't say anything. She returns his sword to its sheath in one swift move, her fingers hovering there for a while before dusting off the fresh snow gathered on his shoulder.
The touch stays with Klaus as he mounts his steed and travels to the front of the crowd. With a smirk he redraws his sword and points it to the sky, feeling a hint of Caroline on the hilt.
"Good Hunt," his voice booms through the snow-laden dark forest, the everlasting blessing since the beginning of time. "May your harvest be bountiful."
The crowd erupts in battle roars.
If a human were foolhardy enough to sneak a peek out of their bolted window on this night, all they would see were looming clouds and swirling snow. They'd probably see an odd rustle here and there on top of the trees, or maybe feel a sudden chill as the dogs start to bark in an eery chorus. But all that they saw would be shadows and edges of the Great Hunt. They'd never be able to see the real thing, never be able to comprehend the grandness that was beyond their level of being even though for those stretching hours of the longest night of a year, they coexist in the same space with what is above them.
But for the higher beings, the Wild Hunt is a rite that has been ingrained in their bones. When the forest trembles and the ground shakes from the war cries of thousands of creatures uninhibited from their wildest nature, when the air is permeated with the smell of fear from wandering ghosts and spirits, you're no longer merely joining the Hunt. The Hunt runs in you.
Even for a God like Klaus, the Hunt is one of the most magnificent things he has ever seen. Sometimes he ponders that power, and believes that the Hunt marks those who's been a part of it. You never forget your first Hunt. And after that, every Hunt feels like the first.
Klaus watched in boredom as the fights around him waned. The Hunt itself was still thrilling, but the long-running tournament during each Hunt was starting to lose its appeal. Though every member could join in the competition to slay the greatest number of evil spirits out of one Hunt, the winner had been Rebekah for decades – maybe centuries (being the "Allfather" as the Realms denominated him, Klaus was excluded from the contest altogether). The game seemed especially thin this year, with large numbers of warriors vying for the measly crew of wayward souls while others acquiesced to the mundane task of guiding the benevolent.
If Klaus didn't know better, he might humor the unthinkable conclusion that Midgard had finally found eternal peace.
As he was exhausting possible explanations to the dwindling of prey this season, Kol barged right towards him, knocking away two Berserkers on his route and stealing the ghost they were fighting over. The hissing spirit stood no chance against the God as Kol's magic sliced through his translucent form, bursting into a clump of smoke and dust that was soon carried away by the violent northern wind. Reaching into the residue haze in the air, Kol pulled out the spirit's bluish-grey pith – distinct in appearance one from another, this was taken as the proof of killing, and the only spoil the higher beings cared to carry with them during the Hunt. Hooking the soft stem-like substance haphazardly onto his belt where a dozen others already hung, Kol bounced to Klaus's side with an excited spring in his steps.
"You have got to come and see this, Nik."
Klaus answered him with an unimpressed look. The last time he believed Kol when those exact words were said, he was dragged by his brother to witness what the younger God had dubbed "an orgy of ogres". He'd appreciated neither the disgusting scene nor the contrived alliteration. "I highly doubt that."
"You are a rigid curmudgeon without a fun bone in your body," Kol griped.
"I would very much love to double the number in yours," Klaus placed a hand on his sword in warning.
Kol threw back his head and groaned, "again with the ancient threats. Aren't you tired of him, my beast friend?" He reached over to pet Sleipnir on the nose, but nearly got his whole hand chewed off. Kol laughed, "I firmly believe that you personally gave birth to this grumpy horse – I've told everyone else as much – and you cannot convince me otherwise."
"Say your piece and leave, before I pith you."
It turned out Kol could make a very compelling case when he wasn't actually speaking. Following his lead, Klaus crossed through the forest with contained curiosity. The further they went, the quieter it got, sounds of fighting lowered to a faint memory. Halfway through the forest, Klaus started to notice blue wisps of pure magic glowing in the dark, forming trails that seemed to be leading to the same destination.
"Clever, isn't it?" Kol's voice pierced through the night air, for once without jest.
Klaus didn't see the need to reply. It was common knowledge that evil spirits craved and fed on power of any kind; those brainless gluttons would not be able to pass this up. As soon as they discovered the magic honeypots, they were stepping into a trap of doom. So this was why everyone else was left with next to nothing this year. A smirk grew on his lips. The scheme was as elegant as it was ambitious – whoever was behind this clearly had something to prove. And a formidable well of magic to flaunt.
"Don't tell me it's your stroke of genius," Klaus ventured, though deep down he knew this was not Kol's usual style.
"Why, a compliment, Nik?" Kol's melodramatic intonation grazed his eardrums. And his temper. "But sadly, no. You know I'd prefer a much gorier approach. This has Fae written all over it. Condescending little things, the lot of them. They'd make a massacre pretty just to shove it in everyone's face."
A Fae.
Something flickered in Klaus's mind.
He'd hardly thought of the starving human girl (Caroline was her name – he'd finally learned from the Fae Supreme who was boasting about the youngster's remarkable progress) for the past two decades, before he spotted her again earlier in the crowd. She'd grown a lot, her figure now strong and lean, her cheeks rosy, a far cry from the trembling little waif from Klaus's memory. But her eyes were the same – Klaus would recognize those blue pools of silent queries anywhere.
She'd pretended not to know him beyond publicly shared facts, revealing no recollection of their previous encounter. But Klaus had caught her peeking at him when she thought he wouldn't notice, her furtive glances half-hidden away behind her cascades of blonde curls. Klaus had approached her just before the Hunt officially started, recounting everything about the ritual since it was her first one. She kept quiet the entire time, though her eyes were quite another story – the barely concealed flashes and sparks were just short of telling him to shut up and mind his own business.
Klaus was so amused by the display he lost track of time prolonging the insipid speech, unaware of the growing agitation from the whole alliance waiting for his declaration of commencement.
"You certainly are distracted a lot today," quipped Kol knowingly.
They were now approaching a frozen lake at the edge of the forest, pale with a blurry sheen like a stolen moon embedded in the earth. Klaus dismounted Sleipnir, giving the steed a gentle slap on the hip, and the beast galloped away to the nearest wisp of magic in the snow, licking happily at the phosphorus gleam. He shared a look with Kol, and walked towards the icy lakeshore.
It was quite an impressive scene. At first glance, the lake seemed to be steaming; but upon closer look, the blue-green haze turned out to be throngs of moaning spirits, pressing into each other, trudging forward with frantic greed. At the other end of the lake, floating mid-air covered in ghost dust and ashes was Caroline, completely unfazed by the crowd of evil creatures that looked about to drown her. Once in a while she'd splatter a few specks of magic into the herd, watching the front-runners wrestle each other to devour the glowing drop, pithing any that managed to get close. Between the feeding and the slaughter, she somehow found time to idly arrange the overflowing supply of colorful piths in her hand into a bouquet.
"Like I said, condescending." Kol snorted, but the sincere validation in his voice was unmistakable. Yet just a moment later his tone turned suggestive, "and mighty tasty, from the looks of it."
"The pithing offer still stands."
"My, my, are we smitten! Has she even said a word to you yet, Nik?"
A tree behind them silently fell down and collapsed right into Kol, knocking his intolerable gloating face into the ground. The loud noise echoed along the lakeshore, and Caroline's head whipped up towards where he was standing. They silently stared at each other across the lake teeming with ghosts until Kol, having dug himself out from under the heavy trunk and snow, hollered, "he says you look stunning, in case you are wondering!"
Klaus growled, suddenly aware of the eyes and ears of warriors all around the lake, drawn to the spot by Caroline's ingenious ambush.
And then Caroline's voice, crisp and clear, carried across the icy moon on earth, "he could tell me himself." Kol guffawed like a lunatic, dodging the flying sword from a livid Klaus.
He wasn't just going to pith the little imp, he was going to skin him alive.
But to Klaus's disappointment, no pithing or skinning happened since Kol had the good sense to avoid him for the rest of the Hunt, which quickly came to an end with Caroline single-handedly destroying over half of the evil spirit population. On her first Hunt, no less. A true feat. When the time of tallying came, a crowded circle formed around the young Fae, congratulating her on the great harvest. Caroline's eyes sparkled as she talked to them, her hair a wild mess around her still flushed face, almost glowing from the rush of the kill.
She did look stunning. Not that Klaus would ever admit it to Kol.
As per tradition, Klaus was to offer wine to the winner of the tournament, signifying the start of a celebratory feast that would last for days. With a golden goblet in hand, he parted the bustling crowd and reached Caroline's side, pushing down the strange desire to touch her. Holding the goblet before the Fae, he grinned, "to the best warrior."
Caroline took the goblet and downed it in one gulp, her upturned throat looking soft and smooth as fresh snow under the moonlight. The crowd cheered boisterously.
"Thank you, your Highness," Caroline said, wine on her lips, mockery in her voice, and just a hint of mischief in her eyes to soften the sting.
Before he noticed what he was doing, Klaus was pulling the dark tying ribbon from his shoulder-length hair, and securing with it Caroline's messy tresses into a simple braid. Her hair felt cold and damp under his fingers, but her small, hitched breaths burned his arm. A hush fell over the crowd, as the young gaped at the intimacy of the act and the old started to recognize it as a long-abandoned rite professing something even more profound.
If Caroline recognized it her face revealed nothing, though Klaus suspected that for a moment he saw the blush deepen on her cheeks.
"It's Klaus," he told her as he withdrew his hands, grazing the bare skin between her neck and shoulder one last time, his voice suddenly hoarse.
"I know," she answered softly.
She kept the ribbon on throughout the feast, the dark piece of fabric dancing in her hair wherever she went, and for the first time in centuries, Klaus felt himself getting close to the swaying precipice of drunkenness. He'd forgotten how sweetly delirious it was – almost enough for him to endure the nosy probes of his siblings.
Klaus is not surprised to see that Caroline has hung back when the other warriors shoot out as soon as he lowers the sword. Since she won her first Hunt and became somewhat of a legend, the Fae has been more than happy to let others have a turn at the glory. Though in recent years, Klaus suspects that her reservation has more to do with her rumored involvement with him. Caroline, to her credit, has never tried to clarify anything. She's certainly crafty enough to change the topic as soon as someone intimates at it; and when she's not in the mood to do that, she's also bold enough to shut them up with her sharp tongue.
Or apparently with her sword fighting skills, if what transpired with Kol today was any indication.
Sword, magic, words, whatever the means, he always loves watching her fight. Caroline is one of the few people he's known who genuinely enjoys fighting in its purest form. Some are in it for the fortune, some for the fame, some for the sense of power or vindication it brings; but Caroline fights because it's something that she's learned to do well. She throws herself into it without a straying thought, every posture, every move done to sheer perfection. She knows it; she revels in it. So even though she's not going for the win nowadays, she still sets secret challenges for herself during each Hunt, always trying something new.
At first she wouldn't admit to the "silly" game (her own words, Klaus finds it endearing after he's figured it out, much like he does all her other idiosyncrasies); recently though, it has become their game in which they bet on how long it takes for Klaus to guess her goal. Last year, she opted to only kill spirits of dark sorcerers; the year before that, she tried to hunt using only the air element, the hardest one to master; before that, she attempted fighting with her eyes closed.
The Hunt has always been exhilarating for Klaus. But with Caroline in the mix, every particle of his being comes alive with anticipation.
He senses her approaching before he turns around, a teasing smirk in place, "let me guess, this year you want to try teaching my horse to fight. Shooting too high, even for you."
Caroline floats over, hovering mid-air so she is eye to eye with him, "what's your first clue?"
"For one, you were feeding way too many berries to him. Got the lad all frisky. You may not see it but it's taking me massive efforts just to hold him in place right now."
Caroline rolls her eyes, "sucks to be you then. And no, you guessed wrong. Your horse might be an even better warrior than you are."
Klaus knows she's right of course. When he's not busy chomping berries and smelling Caroline's hand, the steed can stomp an army of evil spirits to nothingness. Ignoring the horse's perked up ears, he grins at Caroline, "so you think I'm an amazing warrior?"
"I never said amazing. Though your ability to milk a compliment out of everything I say astounds me to no end."
"What can I say? You like me confident."
Caroline snorts, "I like you delusional, since it gives me more chances to knock you down."
Klaus's retort is interrupted by Rebekah, who is standing a few trees down from them, her arms akimbo, "are you two done defiling each other yet? It's called a Hunt for a reason."
Klaus raises an eyebrow, but holds his silence. She may never admit to it, and would no doubt maim him if he voices one single word, but Rebekah seems to be warming up to her much-derided rival. For the last few Hunts, the Valkyrie has altered between hunting together with her peers and joining Caroline's personal challenge. She was slinging scathing insults left and right the whole time, but Klaus dares say that his sister secretly welcomes the company.
Not that he'll ever point it out to her face. Not even when she's being as obvious as a child pouting for candy.
"Sorry, Rebekah," Caroline calls out to her. "I have other plans this time. Maybe next year?"
She sounds sincere enough, though Klaus is willing to bet that she's at least partially exacting revenge for some of Rebekah's earlier comments. For a girl with a big heart, she can be really petty when she wants to. Klaus, of course, has no objections as long as it doesn't involve him. "Yes Bekah, run along now. We have plans."
Rebekah sends them each a murderous glare, flying away without a word.
"Now what grand schemes have you in store for us, love?" Klaus turns back to Caroline, his smirk turning into a frown when he sees Caroline's face. There's something hesitant in her eyes. Nervous even.
"Actually... I have plans."
Normally Klaus would be distracted by the delectable scene of Caroline biting on her lower lip, but her stress on that particular word makes him falter. Schooling his expressions blank, Klaus nods, "I see. With your little friend Enzo, perhaps?" He can't help but add, and regrets it as soon as the words leave his lips.
"What if I am?"
Klaus studies her, trying to figure out if she's telling the truth, or simply bluffing. But Caroline's face is a mask of flawless defiance, and soon Klaus decides that it doesn't matter. The fact that she's using the possibility as a weapon already says enough. A sudden bile of bitter ire poisons his voice, "do what you want. It's not as if I ever have a say."
Caroline doesn't look annoyed as she usually would by that remark. In fact, she looks almost amused now, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "sounds to me like you think you're entitled to one."
"I'm not the one who's entitled in our..." The lack of a proper word hangs heavy in his chest, eroding a painful path into the darkest swamps of his soul, and seconds later, what he has been muffling in there comes spewing out, "what exactly is this, Caroline? What are we? I've made my intentions loud and clear ever since your first Hunt, I've repeatedly bared my heart to you only to have you leave it out in the bloody open to dry! You've been playing games with me for decades, so I ask you this one more time, although I'm not even sure you know it yourself at this point: what do you want?"
"What do I want?" Caroline laughs humorlessly, her body shivering with anger, "are you hearing yourself, Klaus? Yes, you've made your glorious intentions clear. Yes, you've bared your oh-so-precious heart. But if you think that gives you the right to stomp your foot and demand reciprocation, you'd better think hard before calling anyone else entitled. And to answer your question – I know exactly what I want, just like I told you ten years ago. But keep in mind that it could change."
Klaus folds his lips in, "will you be informing me of these potential changes?"
"You know what? I'm done talking to you." Caroline whirls around and starts flying away, but not before throwing one last word over her shoulder, "you think I'm playing games? Well here's another one for you: do not follow me!"
She's gone in a blink. Klaus sighs, frozen in his spot, lamenting how this scene right here epitomizes his... thing with Caroline. She comes and goes as she pleases, ever from the very beginning.
His dumb horse whines then, apparently affected by the tension in the air, pawing his front hoofs skittishly into the ground. "Stop it, you oaf!" He snaps at Sleipnir, though he knows he's enacting on the inside whatever the equivalence of "whining and pawing" is for a God.
He hasn't expected an unwelcome voice to break into his inner turmoil and excessive wallowing.
"That was..."
Klaus whips around and stares right into the mirthful eyes of Enzo, who's shaking his head in mock amazement, "wow. I have no words."
For as long as he could remember, Klaus felt simultaneously connected with, and detached from, the outside world. It was the world he created after all, and however far away he'd sent those lands and continents, however randomly he'd scattered the creatures and lives, they were still as close to him as a concentration of his mind. They were, and always would be, a constant thrum dormant in his consciousness, the endless white against the stark center figures of his being. He'd learned to tune them out most of the time, but when he closed his eyes and pushed his senses, he could easily see the ancient Mother Tree in the Fae's Realm blossoming for that one time in an entire century, or that surly King of the Berserkers bickering nonstop with his wife that he supposedly "love to death" – though the latter was one of the reasons he tuned it all out in the first place.
But muted or not, he did sense everything, all the time. It had become a comfort on which he didn't dwell much. So it was with a deep sigh and a tinge of guilt that he cut off that connection. All Realms and all lives, fading away in an instant. Total darkness, total silence. It left a phantom sensation on his skin, the weight of something that wasn't there. Now he was finally alone, him, his mind, and the one and only extension of him that was his private Realm.
Now when Caroline stumbled around across the Realms and spaces, she would not sense him. She would not see the familiar glow and came barreling into what was his.
And Klaus would no longer feel her incessant tap, tap, tapping on the edge of his mind.
"Of course I can feel you," he'd told her once, feigning annoyance. Or maybe not entirely feigning – the annoyance was there, just not for the reasons that he was willing to show her. "I can feel you every time you even come close to my Realm. These tiny vibrations, like a little kitten clawing at my fingertips."
She never seemed to fear him; if anything, she delighted in his anger, "tiny, huh?"
"And persistent."
The word he really wanted to use was relentless. It felt more fitting in regard to Caroline. She never even gave him a chance to back down, to do this on his time and in his rhythm. No. She just turned up one day unbidden and unannounced while Klaus was resting in his bed, prancing around like she wasn't at best a guest.
The cheek of that girl. If was one thing to develop the new magical power of traveling across the Realms as one matured as a Fae, not be able to fully control it (understandable, given the rarity of the ability and the sheer amount of magic it required), accidentally drop into his Realm, take a look, apologize, and bow out; but to act like one owned the space, not show one sliver of remorse or gratitude, sleep in said Realm and leave without a parting word, and then keep coming back in the exact same fashion as the first time – that was simply unacceptable.
But her worst crime of all was to make Klaus expect. Klaus didn't expect. He predicted, he dictated, he knew. But before he realised it, he'd got used to sensing those relentless tiny taps invading his consciousness, used to seeing Caroline appearing in his Realm whenever he turned his back, exhausted and ready to succumb to slumber. She slept as all Fae do, floating midair, curled around herself. Klaus had repeatedly offered her the bed, but she always refused. Sleep in his bed she would not, yet she had no qualms sleeping in his mind, both literally and figuratively. So he got used to the view.
He'd once read something written by a poet from Midgard, about the immense feeling of joy when one looked outside the window, and happened to see a beautiful floating cloud.
The problem with beautiful clouds was, once you saw them, for the rest of your mortal or immortal life there would always be a corner of your soul that expected to see it again at any given moment, no matter how you might ignore or deny it.
And the problem with expectations was, whether or not they would eventually be met, they tortured and controlled you all the same.
Klaus was not to be controlled. Especially not after yesterday. So he cut off his connections to the outside world and thus, cut off his Realm from travelers that may or may not be searching. His mind was now, finally, relentlessly, his own.
But in the deafening silence he remembered the reason Caroline had reluctantly revealed about her impromptu visits.
"I was lost." She shrugged at him, still floating, but in a sitting position, the hem of her long dress brushing the floor, "I can't help it. The Supreme said it would get better in time, but right now it's 'go with the flow, Caroline' – as if that's possible." She threw up her hands in defeat, curls bouncing, "sometimes I end up in places I don't even recognize, not a trace of them in my memories. And for a good reason, too – they are totally twisted." A shudder went through her, leaving shadows in her eyes, but she soon turned them into little daggers shooting at him, "which is totally your fault!"
"I did not invite you into those Realms, Caroline, just like I didn't invite you here," he emphasized the last word pointedly. Something hung in his voice, a question perhaps, little feathers tickling just behind his facade.
She answered anyway, grumbling, "believe me, it's not my first choice either."
"Then by all means, leave. And don't bother to come back."
"Seriously?"
He hated that she rested here so comfortably without acknowledging him, as if he were running some glorified inter-spacial inn. He also hated that she did not just rest here; she lured him into conversations and fascinated him with her cute little stories when all he wanted, all he should want, was to kiss her senseless and take her whole. He hated that he still didn't know how her lips taste like, or how her breasts would fit in his palms, but he knew that when she said "seriously" in that breathy tone it meant that she was angry, and hurt, but wasn't ready to just up and leave.
"Why do you always come here, Caroline?" He sighed, "the ability to travel freely between Realms is rare, but not unheard of. Yet I've never once had someone other than my siblings who dared wander into my Realm." He didn't mention the fact that they wouldn't have been able to. Even on a particularly merciful day he'd have thrown them right back into the swirling chaos of time and space.
Caroline shrugged again, her face turned to the side, "I was trying to go back home. But I was lost, I told you."
"What about the second time? Or the times after that?"
"Stop grilling! I didn't ask you why you just bestowed upon me your hair tie willy-nilly."
Klaus pinned her down with a look, "you could."
"Well I don't want to!" She huffed, her hair flying, "you may be a God or whatever, but you don't get to demand answers or questions from me."
Klaus sauntered over to her until he could hold her feet right to his chest, but he didn't. He looked up at her, "and yet you get a free pass to my Realm? Sounds awfully unfair, don't you think?"
"Fine," she jumped down from her perch, arms crossed and eyes flickering. "I will tell you one thing. I come here because it feels... familiar. Safe. When I'm disoriented during my travels I can always count on this huge egotistical... lighthouse of yours. There. Happy now?"
"Mildly."
They'd ended up talking about those "twisted" Realms that day, and while Klaus took much offense to Caroline disparaging his creations, he did offer her advice on how to escape them without a scratch. Though equipped with the freshly acquired survival skills, Caroline continued to come back to him. Klaus couldn't figure it out – couldn't figure her out. When it came to Caroline, with one vague answer came ten dozen glaring questions. It unsettled Klaus.
He reminded himself that this was why he was now hiding his Realm away from her eyes. But even as he reiterated the reasoning to himself his mind wandered to the Fae out there, possibly stranded somewhere with no way home. Caroline's control of her traveling powers was improving these days, but she admitted that one out of ten times she'd still get pulled into strange Realms against her will.
Damn her. Even when she was not physically here she was demanding something of him. Oh wait – Caroline did not demand. She just took. Just went about with her enchanting smile and sharp mind, presuming that nothing would befall her no matter what she did.
She'd initiated physical contact the other day, something she had never done. And not the kind of physical contact Klaus would have liked. Right before leaving she came over to him and, out of the blue, touched him. One hand on his cheek, the other holding his, and after a while both hands moved to rest on his chest, on either side of his sternum, warm and cozy.
For a moment he just stared at her, his mind blank, skin overwhelmed. He looked down to where her hands connected with his body, and felt the peculiar, terrifying sensation that he was more; as if something was growing inside of him – had been growing, and was ready to tear him at the seams and burst out. He was debating whether to put his hands on hers, to hold whatever it was back, or simply to hold himself together, when Caroline withdrew her hands.
Now he felt empty. Empty, and blown wide open.
He covered it with his usual smirk, "what was that for?"
Caroline smiled, her face so close to his he could count the tiny lines on her lips, and imagine ironing them smooth with his own. "Do I need a reason?"
Klaus shrugged, "more like an incentive. If I take you in my arms, kiss you, and caress your body..." Hearing her little gasp, his smirk grew, "I get pleasure, immeasurable pleasure... and so do you. What do simple touches like yours achieve, Caroline?"
"A connection," she replied softly. "I'd like to think that... when I touch someone, I leave a piece of myself with them." She frowned then, and Klaus could swear that piece of her that she claimed to have left inside of him stirred in response. "The Supreme would probably be able to explain it better. It's kind of like a tree growing a new branch." She suddenly giggled, "you are my branch now, Klaus."
Klaus had not stopped obsessing over those words ever since they left her lips. Trust a Fae to express every sentiment in cryptic horticultural references. What did it even mean "he was her branch"? It was true that he wanted her. He had not been subtle with his intentions, though every advance of his seemed to meet an unexpected, unfathomable reaction from Caroline. She was not saying yes, or no, or maybe. And now apparently she wanted him to be her arboreal limb. But unlike limbs of other creatures, the bloody branches could get snapped off, wither away and rot in oblivion.
It was not a position Klaus ever saw himself in.
The silence weighed him down, a preview of what life might be post-Caroline. Was this it then? Was he to never see her again other than during the annual Hunts, to never hear her chatter, to never have her floating about in his proximity? As soon as those thoughts hit him, Klaus was bombarded with a confounding nostalgia – for all of those things, yes, but most of all for her gentle touch, the way she did it. He was surprised to realise that he wanted her to intertwine their fingers, to cup his neck, to play with his sometimes unruly hair. What he thought was of no significance merely days ago now tempted him with their arbitrary unavailability. He ached for that which he had yet to have – which he had decided that he didn't need.
He missed her.
He was fighting the epically stupid battle against himself for what felt like eons when suddenly, the very cause of the battle miraculously appeared in front of him, exuding anger.
"What are you doing?"
Klaus was genuinely taken aback by the question, "I beg your pardon?"
"Don't be obtuse," Caroline glared at him. "This on-and-off, on-and-off thing with your mind. I was traveling out there and this Realm of yours was blinking like a coquettish teenager. Are you trying to send me a signal or something? Cause it's not going to work."
Klaus glared back, "I wouldn't dream of it."
"You know, you really need to be taken only in small doses. And I mean small," she gestured at him, pushing her index and thumb so close a leaf could barely pass through. "Why are you sulking again?"
"I am not sulking."
"Right, not sulking. Since you look like you're having a melt-down."
Klaus didn't dignify that with an answer, just turned his back on her. When Caroline put a hand on his arm, he immediately jerked away.
"Oh dear Mother Tree, is this because I touched you?" She went around to stand facing him, gaping, "you're unbelievable."
"Believe me, if I had any objections to your touching me it would be that it was not nearly enough. If it were up to me we'd be doing a lot more than touching since you first came to me. But instead I get your friendly handshake and all that nonsense about trees and branches."
Caroline bristled, "so you only wanted me for bodily pleasures? Is that what you're saying?"
"Shouldn't I?"
She shook her head, huffing an irritated laugh, "you can't even convince yourself. You're such a coward, Klaus."
His jaw clenched, "careful who you're speaking with, love."
"Why? Because I'm speaking with a giant coward with no patience and no emotional maturity?"
"I think you should leave now, Caroline," he said quietly, his face hardened.
"No." She snapped at him, "I'll leave when I feel like it, and not a moment sooner."
"This is why I don't want any of your nonsense!" He leaned towards her, bellowing. And there it was again, the thing that was growing – had been growing inside of him, ready to burst out, ready to tear him apart, "first there are branches, then come the sprouts and shoots and fucking offshoots, it's a never-ending chaos!" He panted, seeing her stunned eyes begin to water, and feeling the sadistic pleasure of causing pain. Hers, and his. "You are a complication, Caroline."
They glared at each other, in frustration and in despair. The silence trapped in that moment was filled with the shadows of something daunting, something that had been growing between them all along. Sometimes Klaus feared that it would impale him right through the heart; other times he feared that it would become the only thing holding him up.
Finally Caroline spoke, an edge to her voice, but no tears, "you don't want complications? Tough."
In the blink of an eye the space around him was teeming with greenery, branches and leaves and vines running rampant, leaving Klaus barely any room to even move. But Caroline herself was nowhere to be found. Klaus sighed. Once again he didn't quite understand her words or her action. He didn't know what this all meant – if she would ever come back. For some reason he also didn't feel like removing the mess that she'd left behind, probably just to spite him. So he stood there, staring into nothing. Nothing but green.
He was startled when she reappeared, minutes later, right where she was standing before, as if she'd never stepped out. His eyes drank her in, heart suspended, the sigh of relief held in his throat.
"Say 'I would like for you to visit again, Caroline'."
He blinked at her, mind still not registering, but a little smile already tugging at the corner of his lips.
Her face was hard, but her eyes were smiling back, "say it."
He never stood a chance.
Finding Caroline is not difficult. Klaus is so familiar with the presence of her on his senses he can probably pick her out of a crowd of millions with his eyes blindfolded.
It's following her that he needs to be cautious with. Her magic is growing by the day, affording her an even sharper observation of her surroundings. And given her earlier warning to "not follow her", Klaus is hesitant about making his presence known. He'll admit her anger is not entirely unjustified – he can only hope that she lets him back into her good graces before the Hunt ends. The celebratory feast would be sheer torture with Caroline laughing, drinking, and dancing in all her glory, but cross with him.
"You know the exact wrong things to say," her obnoxious little friend Enzo told him just minutes ago. "Good thing it tickles her fancy. She's wired funny, that one."
Klaus didn't know whether to take offense at his judgments towards not only him, but Caroline, or to be contented that Caroline's best friend (the lad's right about one thing alright – she's definitely wired funny if this is what she considers a best friend) confirmed that she fancied him. In the end he settled on a classic, "I don't see why it's any of your business."
"Then isn't it nice that I'm here to point it out to you?" Enzo smirked in that grating way of his, "you see, much as I love the girl," he happily ignored Klaus's growl, "she's not very good company when she's miffed. She rants a lot. About you. And I don't like you."
Klaus gritted his teeth. There was being honest, and then there was being plain blasphemous. "I assure you the feeling's mutual."
"And I assure you what you feel really does not matter to me this way or another."
"Oh it would matter," Klaus smirked with menace, "when I crush you into ashes and scatter you in a land of eternal fire."
"You can wax poetry out of your empty threats if it makes you feel better. But we both know that's what they are. Empty."
Klaus would gladly prove him wrong if not for a certain blonde Fae. And his face must have shown it.
Enzo had the gall to wiggle his eyebrows at him, "that's what I thought."
"If you have no regard for me, why are we having this conversation right now?"
"Why do you think?" Enzo lowered his voice into an ostensible hush, "to inform you that I'm going to ask for your brother's hand in marriage, of course."
There was a swift rustle in the trees, then silence.
Klaus inclined his head slightly, "Kol was eavesdropping?"
Enzo laughed, "do you really need to ask?"
"He was right," Klaus snorted. "You do have the irritating habit of answering everything with questions." And apparently self-important grins. "So this is about Caroline?"
"Isn't it always, with you?"
He wanted to deny it then. But for some reason he stayed silent with a mask of indifference and let the young Fae lecture him on his... thing with Caroline. He told himself he was merely getting insights, not taking advice – he resented the possibility that someone might know Caroline better than he. And ambiguously defined as it may be, he had to believe that what he shared with Caroline was special.
Klaus looks through the raging blizzard, and releases yet another sigh. It's been snowing heavier and heavier since Caroline stormed away from him. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised that the Fae has developed a second ability of manipulating the weather; her magical powers have always been a wonder to him. But if that is true, the weather right now would indicate that she's more than upset with him, which doesn't bode well for Klaus.
He can see her in the distance, her form ever lithe and graceful even in the heavy snow, seemingly unaware that he's been following her for about half a forest; the howling wind has disguised the sound of Sleipnir's eager hoofs. He has to hold the reins tight all the way here to keep the steed from dashing towards the Fae. Though her steps light, Caroline appears deep in thought, and Klaus isn't sure if disturbing her is a good idea, however he might share his horse's sentiments.
"You try too hard, you push too fast, and you think too much of yourself." Klaus remembers Enzo's words.
He snickered then, trying to play it off, "this from the person sharing my brother's bed three days after meeting him."
"It was not his bed, and you two are different from us." Enjoying Klaus's revolted face for a moment, Enzo turned serious, "I might not fear you, but you are still the God of all Gods."
Klaus frowned, "are you saying that Caroline's afraid of me?" That was a preposterous theory if he'd ever heard one.
"Of you? Never. But being with you, on the other hand... She's barely over half a century old, Klaus. And you've basically spelled out her entire future not only to her, but to the whole world the first time she met you as a Fae. Can't fault the girl for having some reservations."
"I don't see you having that problem with Kol," Klaus grumbled.
"I'm just having fun with Kol," Enzo gave a suggestive smirk, and Klaus got a bad taste in his mouth since he was reminded of that exact expression on his brother's face. "Now, this obviously baffles me – but lucky for you, Caroline wants a bit more than that."
Klaus was reluctant to ask Enzo of all people what it was that Caroline wanted, and the insufferable Fae was not kind enough to offer. So here Klaus is, stalking the woman he's been, according to everyone he talks to and half of those he doesn't, besotted with for decades.
Caroline doesn't seem to be in a fighting mood today. A few spirits have passed them by, but she barely spared them a glance. Klaus remembers that she said she had a plan, and upon further study she does seem preoccupied. Whatever her plan is, it must be something of great importance. Klaus recognizes all the signs of nervous energy in her body, the locked shoulders, the constant fidgeting with her hair, the contours of her wings occasionally flashing into visibility behind her back.
Being tied to the core of their magic, wings are the most precious and private possessions of a Fae. Many a Fae choose to hide their wings in secret places, never to be revealed unless they have to retrieve them. Caroline keeps her wings with her, though Klaus has never seen them except for the glimpses of glowing cerulean when her emotions are high. He wonders what is on Caroline's mind right now that causes this showing of wings. Maybe wonder is an inaccurate word – deep down he knows. He just isn't sure about the outcome.
"She may take long – and mind you, it is incredibly long – to decide. But once her mind's made up, Caroline doesn't back down."
That was how Enzo concluded their less-than-pleasant conversation. Nothing that Klaus didn't already know. It was the Fae's last words that startled him.
"I have a hunch she's getting there."
Could it be...?
Hope is the worst sentiment in the entire world – something that was definitely not created by him. Klaus has always suspected that it's one of the manifestations of those pesky dark energies drifting in the ether that even he cannot manipulate. It's been there before him, and it's probably going to be there after Ragnarök, whether he perishes or comes back to life. He just wishes that it wouldn't affect him in between those times.
He's been hoping ever since he had his own hunch a year ago at the last Hunt. He still remembers Caroline's face when she was strangling that dark sorcerer who attempted a spell stealing Klaus's power during the Wild Hunt, her eyes burning an eery red, more furious than he'd ever seen. She was as beautiful as she was ruthless that day, nearly tearing a hole in the magical bounds of Midgard while she was destroying her enemy. She wasn't even aware that Klaus was there when she uttered the sorcerer's most unforgivable sin, "you dare touch what is..."
She didn't finish the sentence; or maybe Klaus didn't hear her, the last word drowned out by the painful screams of the condemned.
For the past year he's been waiting for a sign that what he didn't hear was indeed what he has been hoping for.
And since he's indulging in hoping, he hopes that he gets it today. Or any day in the rest of eternity.
Klaus held back his sigh of relief as Caroline stumbled into her tree hut and instantly slid to the floor. She'd insisted on flying back herself, refusing to let Klaus carry or even help her, and seeing as she barely had the energy to argue with him, Klaus had let her. Sometimes she could be so stubborn he didn't know if he wanted to kiss her or strangle her. Maybe both.
Sliding down beside the weakened Fae, Klaus stealthily positioned himself close so that Caroline could lean on him. But truth be told the proximity was probably as much to Caroline's benefit as it was to him. After what he had just witnessed, he needed to feel her presence in every which way that he could. His bones still felt rattled, like they weren't quite his own, and his heart seemed to be misplaced altogether; one minute he could only feel a cold hollow in his chest, and the other it seemed that there was a racing beat everywhere under his buzzing skin.
He watched as his hand raise out of its own accord and hovered over Caroline's face. She still looked so fragile, as if just a tiny graze of his fingertip could hurt her. His insides clenched from waves of helplessness. But Caroline simply turned and leaned her face into his waiting palm, nearly purring at the powers flowing from him into her depleted body.
The sigh that had been stuck in Klaus's throat finally flowed out of his lips.
"Are you alright, Caroline?"
He felt her little smile, curling lips unknowingly grazing the tender flesh on the inside of his wrist, "much better."
Klaus examined her face with keen eyes. She did look better, her skin less pale and devoid of the greying hue that had worried him. Between the potent magic in the air of the Fae's Realm and the powers she'd involuntarily taken from him, Caroline was well on the way to recuperation. But in his mind images flashed of her withered and in pain when he first found her, and Klaus felt a surge of anger piercing him even as his hand smoothed back the messy strands from her forehead.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Caroline moved slightly to nestle her head comfortably on his shoulder. Then, as if nothing traumatic had happened and she hadn't been trapped in a magic-deprivation prison for the past days, the Fae asked idly, "didn't tell you what?"
Klaus gritted his teeth, his arm coming up to circle her tight, "don't play dumb with me. The Supreme and the Elders never do anything without much deliberation." Which meant that the situation had been going on for at least weeks, if not longer.
"And what good would it have done if I'd told you?"
Klaus sucked in a breath. He didn't understand how she could ask something like that. What good would it have done? She wouldn't have been in trouble. She wouldn't have suffered.
...And he wouldn't have had to endure those agonizing days of not hearing from her, or the even more agonizing hours of trying to get to her.
He'd been feeling restless ever since the last time Caroline visited. She'd seemed troubled, but didn't divulge the reason. Then after almost a week of her not showing up, Klaus knew something was wrong. He'd pushed out his senses and traced her right into the Realm of Fae. Being sealed into the small dark cave deep in the mountains, the only place in all the Realms where not a drop of magic existed. It was the cruelest of the cruel, the most severe punishment to a Fae, to whom magic is like the blood of life.
Klaus couldn't forget the moment when he realized where she was. The shock, the pain, the rage, the fear. He was almost paralyzed from the barrage of emotions, watching in strange detachment as his Realm crumbled.
He'd raced down to the Fae's Realm after that, confronting the Supreme and the Elders. He'd yelled, he'd threatened, he'd held all nine Elders in chokehold while the Supreme took her time to make the choice. He was one heated breath away from tearing their entire Realm to pieces when finally, the elder Fae acquiesced and let Caroline out.
Apparently despite the incarceration, the blonde had no intention of backing down. When the seal burst open, she was still shouting as loud as she could with her hoarse voice, "this is not fair! Do you hear me? Those memories are my own and I have a right to keep them!"
She fell right into Klaus's arms, her deprived body immediately starting to pull at the powers inside Klaus like the shriveled roots of a plant reaching for water. And Klaus allowed his own magic to flood her. He'd held her trembling form to his and shielded her from the prying eyes, shushing her gently as her fingers desperately clawed at his chest.
"Take whatever you need, Caroline," he'd whispered at her ear. "Everything is yours."
He closed his eyes, the memories still fresh and roiling, wreaking havoc in his mind. He knew he wanted her, he knew he cared about her, but he didn't expect this unbearable ache that had all but consumed him.
"They wouldn't have really hurt me, you know." Caroline explained quietly, her hand on his chest now grounding and soothing him, "they just wanted me to give in, or at least to learn a lesson. To be honest it was kind of selfish of me to keep the memories with you to myself. We don't do that here."
Klaus had heard as much when the Supreme was trying to reason with him, and he had a pretty good idea why Caroline had withheld her memories. But that was for later discussions. Right now he had something else to focus on, "they wouldn't have hurt you?"
The incredulity and underlying rage in his voice startled Caroline. He tightened his arm as he felt the little jump, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.
"Well, no... I won't die or anything without magic, it was just a little uncomfortable. And they weren't planning on keeping me in there forever."
Klaus had to take a deep breath to keep himself from screaming. Shifting his hold on Caroline, he looked into her eyes, and saw the dark shadows still lingering there.
"You were scared."
"No -"
He cut her off, "you were in pain."
"Maybe a little, but -"
"I thought I'd never see you again."
Caroline stared at him without a word, and for a moment he saw the crack in her peaceful facade. Her eyes suddenly watered, but she soon averted them. Snuggling closer into him, she grazed her lips to the skin easiest to reach, and Klaus felt a spark of warmth on his throat. "You are so dramatic."
They held each other for a while. But as the silence grew and Klaus replayed the past few days again and again in his mind, he was once again overtaken by the paralyzing fear that had left his Realm in shambles. He couldn't help but think of what could have happened, if he hadn't looked for her soon enough, if he hadn't found her, if she was hurt in the process... The ache was gnawing at him, and the desire to see her safe, to see her intact and unharmed became overwhelming.
"Let me see your wings."
"What?" Caroline lifted her head, surprised at the unexpected request and his demanding tone.
"Your wings. Let me see them."
She huffed, "where's this coming from?"
He couldn't explain his irrational thoughts to her. Couldn't possibly make her understand the urge that was driving him crazy on the inside. So instead, he'd met her question with condescension, "all creatures in all the Realms belong to me, Caroline. Including your precious little wings."
Including you.
Caroline scrutinized his face, looking deep and hard, all the way to his soul. What she saw there must have appeased her somehow, because when she finally spoke, it was not the expected anger that he heard in her voice. "The night you found me as a human, you told me that from that day forward, I was to be my own person. And I've tried to live up to that ever since. But tell me this, Klaus," her eyes were holding his steadfastly, clear, but also bewildered.
"If I'm mine, then – how can I be yours?"
Just moments after Klaus realizes that they have been heading to the frozen lake Caroline commandeered during her first Hunt, the Fae stops at the middle of the icy surface, turns around, and smiles at him.
"Looks like I don't need wisps to draw you in. As long as I tell you not to come..."
Stopping right before her, Klaus finishes her sentence, "I am surely to follow."
"You are predictable like that."
Klaus nods, "and you are anything but."
Caroline's eyes sparkle, though her face seems nervous again. She appears to be working up the courage to say something, her lower lip pulled in between her worrying teeth and her eyelashes fluttering. A thousand emotions dash through her eyes like shooting stars, and Klaus can't seem to catch any of them. But then he sees those beautiful blue pools ripple, and all of a sudden he decides that nothing is worth her agony like this. Not whatever's happening between them, and certainly not his pesky insecurities.
"Klaus, when I said I had a plan..."
"Caroline, wait -" He interrupts her gently, taking her hands in his. "Let me?"
Her expression turns to curiosity now, her thumbs wriggling in his palms to silently prompt him.
"You don't have to give me an answer. Not now, not in another century. Hopefully one day..." He lowers his eyes and chuckles then, almost shyly. "Your company means more to me than anything else in the world. And I created this world, so I should know." He inclines his head to better take in her surprised laugh. "As long as I have it, I make no more demands. I could only offer..."
He draws in a breath, and holds her eyes, making sure that she sees whatever she's looking for in his. Anything. Everything. "Caroline – you are what is, what has been, and what will always be. I don't want you to ever doubt that."
Caroline gasps, her hands trembling slightly, and Klaus soothes them with gentle caresses. The snow has eased up, the wind no longer, and Klaus contents himself with watching the occasional snowflake coming to rest on Caroline's hair while she blinks in the stunned silence.
Suddenly she giggles, a reaction that is, once again, out of Klaus's expectation, "way to ruin my plan."
He frowns at her quizzically.
"I was going to make a grand gesture. The Hunt, the lake... it was kind of perfect." She raises a hand and traces his cheekbone with her thumb, "I was going to tell you that I figured it out. That I want you, in every way I can. That I don't mind being yours... as long as you'll be mine." She snorts then, but her eyes are shining with so much joy he has to mirror her gesture and cup her cheeks, an insane thought in his mind that it might spill out in jingling golden drops. "I have my grand speech all thought out, but this day just hasn't been going according to my plans! First Kol, then you -"
"And don't forget your little friend Enzo."
"Enzo? What does he have to -" She shakes her head, still laughing, still sparkling, still trembling from happiness. "Never mind. Anyway, you took away my big moment of profession, but I guess this will have to do."
And then her lips are on his. First they are tentative, nibbling and tasting him. But as soon as Klaus opens his lips – or maybe it's Caroline, but neither can tell – they devour each other. They throw everything into the kiss, with lips and tongues chasing, tangling, never wanting another second apart. It feels like a kiss decades in the making, and they are all but determined to make it last that long. Klaus presses Caroline's body to his and feels, rather than hears the soft vibrations of her moan. He moves his hand and threads his fingers into her long tresses, pulling her ever closer. The kiss deepens and deepens, until Caroline lets out a tiny whimper from the back of her throat. Klaus reluctantly releases her, smiling at her swollen lips and heaving chest.
"That was some profession."
"Oh it was more than a profession," Caroline's tone takes on a hint of lust, her eyes darkening. "I'm laying down my claim."
Klaus glances up at the blue-grey sky and the falling snow, the ice digging into his back. Looking down, he sees Caroline's face, half buried in the opening of his shirt, framed by the silhouettes of lakeshore trees on the horizon. He lets out a tortured sigh as she licks down his bared chest, all the way to his belly, just short of reaching the waist of his trousers.
"Caroline..."
"Patience," she chides him softly, her breath tickling the taut skin of his abdomen.
He's about to protest when she cups his hardness through the fabric, his words turning into a loud moan. She rubs him while peppering kisses along his waistline, and soon Klaus feels so hard he can burst. To his relief, Caroline pulls down his trousers just enough for his cock to spring free, and holds it at the base. She gives the tip a little lick, making Klaus's hip buck upwards.
"Yes, just like that, love."
Caroline smiles before turning her head to the side, tracing the veins along his cock with her tongue. Klaus pants at the sharp sensations, the view of Caroline kneeling between his legs, holding and licking his cock arousing him beyond anything he's imagined.
"You look so lovely like this. I've dreamed about it in my mind thousands of times, you sucking my cock, making me cum, and enjoying it. Have you thought about it too, Caroline? Have you thought about how you will take my cock into your hand and mouth, make me tremble, make me scream?"
"Yes," she answers breathlessly with her lips at his tip, then swallows him entirely until he reaches her throat.
"Fuck!" Klaus cries out at the incredible feeling of her warm throat around him, his hand pounding down beside him making the ice crack. Caroline hums her amusement, and Klaus groans. "Yes, Caroline, yes..."
She slowly starts to move, lips running up and down around him, always pushing him deep into the soft flesh of her throat before leaning back until her lips circle his sensitive tip. Soon she picks up speed, head bobbing and long hair brushing his thighs. Klaus feels the heat inside him grow, his pants and moans echoing around the frozen lake. He knows that they are probably not quite alone – the noises are certainly enough to draw the nearby warriors here – but he doesn't care in that moment. If those idiots know what's best for them they'd turn around and stay away, or at least watch in silence and keep their mouths shut.
He winds his hand in Caroline's hair, guiding her to take him deep. He holds her there for a moment, and feels Caroline swallow around him. "Fuck, Caroline, do that again." She repeats the motion, propelling a long moan from Klaus. He strains to look down, and almost cums from the image. Caroline, with the burning desire in her eyes and the deep flush in her cheeks, lips glistening around his cock.
"Touch yourself. Touch yourself while I fuck your mouth."
Soon he feels her moaning and whimpering around him, her lips and throat swallowing him again and again while one hand of hers disappears down her body. From his angle Klaus can only see her hips raised and rolling so deliciously in the air, and he imagines her fingers, wet with her arousal, rubbing her swollen clit and dipping into her convulsing sex. "Such a good girl, Caroline. Does it feel good? To suck me while you fuck yourself with your fingers? How wet are you? I want to see you like this. I want to see your fingers going in and out of your pretty hole, just like my cock going in and out of your pretty lips. Go deeper, Caroline."
She swallows him hard and lets out a muffled scream, no doubt reaching deep inside herself at the same moment.
"I'm so close, my love. Rub your clit for me. Rub your clit and make us cum."
Caroline's moans become even louder, joining his heavy pants. She reaches down to rub his balls then, her tongue curling into the tiny entrance at his tip. The ice shakes beneath him.
"Yours," he breathes, and lets himself go.
When his orgasm hits Klaus feels the ice give, plunging him and Caroline into the freezing waters. He holds Caroline to him and pulls them out by pure instinct, and for those minutes stretching into eternity they just float there, sheltered in each other, shivering not from the cold, but from the all-consuming high that is still prolonging inside them.
He can vaguely hear the voices in the distance, sounding suspiciously like his siblings and that meddling Enzo, but pays them no mind. Kissing Caroline tenderly on the lips, he chuckles at the ice crystals fast blooming in her hair and on her exposed skin. "You are so beautiful," he smiles at her, then leans in and whispers in her ear, "I need to fuck you. Now."
She gives his already hardening cock a gentle squeeze underwater, "then what are you waiting for?"
A surge of desire runs through Klaus's body as he watches the scene before him. Caroline is stark naked in his bed, her nipples hard, legs open, and her hands tied to the headboard with two pieces of dark ribbons. She's squirming a little in her captivity, her chest undulating from the arousal that has been tinging her skin a lovely shade of rosy pink.
"Was this what you had in mind when you gave me that hair tie?" She pulls at her restraints, a breathy whine in her voice. Klaus knows that she can break out of the flimsy fabric if she really wants to, but the barely concealed excitement in her eyes tells him otherwise.
He smirks at her, kneeling onto the bed between her legs, and spreads them a bit wider with a hand on each thigh. "Same question for you. Was this what you had in mind when you added this very intricate headboard to my bed?"
She snorts, "it was not a bed before. It was a slab."
"And why would you care if I had a bed or not? Hm?" He idly rubs her soaked lower lips with a thumb, and chuckles as Caroline's hips buck. "Been imagining yourself writhing in it?"
"I want to touch you," she pants, eyes desperate.
"Patience," Klaus throws her own word back at her, moving up and kissing her hard. Caroline moans into his lips, hips bucking again trying to get some friction from his body, but Klaus pulls away at the last moment. "You've already cum once."
"From my own fingers," Caroline pouts. "It barely counts."
He grazes the tip of her nose with his, "you are still going to wait. After all, I have been for the past... how many decades now?"
"You said you didn't mind."
"And I would gladly wait for centuries more," he kisses her between her brows, then looks deep into her eyes to let her know that he meant what he said. Though it's always good to have some leverage in bed. "But Caroline – how I've wanted you. The first time you touched me, all I wanted to do was to throw you onto this bed and show you what a real touch would feel."
He feathers his fingertips along her cheek. Caroline sighs.
He leans up to run circles with his thumb on the back of one of her hands. She moans.
He rests both hands on her chest, on either side of her sternum, the outer sides of his burning palms just short of grazing her hard and aching nipples. Caroline arches from the bed, gasping.
"Klaus!" She tugs at the restraints, "I want..."
"Shh," he circles one of her nipples with his tongue. "Not yet. I love when you are impatient, your nipples just begging to be touched, and your pussy..." He dips one digit of his forefinger into her, just a shallow touch, the pressure barely there. Caroline whimpers, her body squirming, trying to take him deeper. "So warm and inviting."
He pushes his finger in further, "do you want more, Caroline?"
"Yes..."
Curling his finger, Klaus presses down, and then keeps tapping on that spot that makes her scream so beautifully.
Caroline is throwing her head from side to side now, her fingers digging into the fabric clenched in her fists while her teeth biting hard down on her lips, trying to hold back her uncontrollable cries.
Klaus gives her nipple a sharp bite, and those cries turn into a near sob.
"Don't bite your lips," Klaus smirks at her. "You bite, I bite."
"Klaus," Caroline trembles when he adds another finger into her, scissoring and stretching. "I need you to fuck me. Please."
"Soon, my love," he breathes between her breasts while giving her clit a tiny pinch, drawing from her another long quivering moan. "Soon."
Flipping Caroline over and helping her onto all fours, Klaus circles an arm around her waist to support the almost boneless Fae. He's been teasing her with his fingers, lips, teeth, and even his cock, over and over again, but not enough to bring her to an ultimate release. The blonde has nearly been reduced to tears, her body trembling and hyper-sensitive, breaking into endless moans wherever he touches her. Klaus reaches down and runs a finger from her knee to the end of her thigh. Caroline keens, her forehead pressing into the bed muffling another loud moan.
"You are so wet, Caroline. Dripping all over the bed." He lowers himself and presses a loving kiss on her spine, "it makes my cock so hard to know that you want me this much."
"And are you going to fuck me with that hard cock?" Caroline rolls her hips, rubbing against his crotch, pussy clenching.
Klaus sucks in a breath. Then he shoves right into her, "yes."
Caroline gasps, her freed hands now digging hard into the bedsheets. Klaus sees it then, the flashes of blue lights outlining something above her back. Moving inside her, he kisses her on the shoulder, hand cupping a breast. Her whole body is fitting into his so perfectly, every angle and every crevice, skin to skin, bone to bone.
"Let them out," he pleas.
Slowly Caroline's wings emerge under him, thin and light, almost transparent, trembling just like her body. Klaus gently touches one of the wings and Caroline clenches around him, a whimper in her throat. "Do it again," she breathes. Klaus runs a finger along the edge of the wing, then traces the tiny veins from the smooth surface.
"Don't stop!" She screams, "Klaus please... Don't stop."
Klaus groans, picking up speed. She's so tight around him, clenching down every time he touches her, and his own desire is running higher and higher from her wild response. He pinches her nipple, and watches in amazement as her wings glow the most magnificent blue, her wanton cries music to his ears. He moves his hand to her clit then, tapping and rubbing and pinching, his cock pounding into her harder and harder while he chases the glow of her wings with his lips. Caroline's screams are barely coherent, the only words he can make out are "Klaus" and "please".
With a grunt Klaus pushes into her for the final time, feeling her spasming around him for long moments, her screams and moans and shakes filling his senses. He stays there for a while, panting, letting the waves of orgasm run through them before gently climbing off of her, taking her into his arms. Her wings have disappeared again, but he runs his hand along her back where they are supposed to be, and kisses her long and deep.
Just when he thinks she has dozed off, Caroline lets out a content sigh and looks up at him with drowsy smiling eyes, "I don't want to move."
"Then don't," he smooths his fingers through her tangled hair.
"But the Hunt's probably going to end soon, you have to toast the winner; plus there's the feast afterwards..."
"Let them wait," Klaus folds her more securely into his arms, feeling no desire to leave her side for even a breath's time. Good thing he doesn't have to, now that she's... Now that he's hers. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Good," he hears his Queen whisper into his chest.
Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.
