Author's note: In the village long ago, Caroline loved Niklaus. But Rebekah refused to allow her brother to marry a woman of inferior birth as it would ruin her own chances for a favorable match...
Also, I've been re-editing and posting Conjuring a Heart – would love for you guys to check it out!
Warning: Angsty angst.
"It was a pleasure to burn."
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
Late 1800s
"Won't you share your fire?" Her delicate pink lips curved into a hopeful smile as Caroline waited for the man to answer.
He seemed speechless as he gazed up at her long blonde curls framing delicate features. She took advantage of her threadbare clothes, exaggerating shivers against the chill in the night air. "Please," she asked anxiously, "I'm so very cold."
"Of course, little lamb, please sit down," he invited, removing his heavy wool coat and draping it around her shoulders as she sat on the edge of his rough blanket by the fire. "I'm Stefan. May I know your name?"
Caroline looked at him gratefully, nervously fiddling with the gold buttons on his coat. The heft and scrollwork underneath her fingers indicated a gentleman of means. "Caroline," she shyly replied.
His brown eyes were warm in the firelight as he gently patted her hand, his tone dissolving into a gentle coo as he observed, "Such rough hands for a gentle lamb. Your beauty is being squandered as a farm maid; it's a shame."
"A shame," she solemnly agreed.
So much in this world was a shame.
Late 10th century
The son of Mikael was staring again. Caroline felt the place between her shoulder blades itch as she stubbornly ignored the weight of Niklaus' stare. Normally, she did the milking within the stalls, but the summer heat made the stone enclosures seem even more confining, and the malodorous smell made her retch. It hadn't occurred to her that he would bother to follow her out here. Especially at the risk of muddying his fine vestments.
She rolled her eyes, recalling how she'd glimpsed his pristine garments just that morning on her way to fetch water, wondering if the luxurious fabrics were as soft as they appeared. Her own garments were stiff and scratched her skin no matter how many times she scrubbed them with strongest lye soap she could make.
"You know, love, it's customary to greet a visitor. Or at least acknowledge their presence."
Muttering under her breath, she let go of the teat, inwardly hoping the temperamental cow would kick this arrogant son of Mikael. She stood slowly, not wanting to spook the beast with sudden movements. "I bowed when I saw you this morning." The way his dimpled smirk deepened at her irritated tone only vexed her further, and she couldn't stop herself from adding, "And I waited patiently for you to move from the path so I could fetch the day's water rather than beat you soundly with my buckets as I sorely desired."
When Niklaus stiffened at her words, she felt a sliver of fear — her sharp tongue had earned her strong rebukes and the occasional lashing from Master Alaric, and he was merely a karl, a landowner. However, a son of Mikael, a jarl, was considerably more powerful as a noble, and could cause her great harm if he chose. He must have noticed the flicker of fear before she hastily lowered her gaze, because he murmured lowly, almost as though soothing a wild animal. "I mean you no harm, Caroline."
"You know my name," she blurted out in surprise. No one in the village bothered to learn her name. It had been a few years since her father's passing, reducing their family to the life of bondsmen, working for Master Alaric until their debts were paid, and she'd resigned herself to this lonely existence, wondering if she'd ever feel like herself again.
"Of course I know the name of the girl who can cut with a single glance. Whose beautiful face reveals all before she ever speaks a word." There was something akin to reverence in his voice as he spoke, and the sincerity she saw reflected in his gaze was something she'd never thought she'd see from a son of Mikael.
A huff of annoyance startled them both, and they turned to see Rebekah glaring at them. "You'll bring shame to our family if father learns you're sporting with this slave, Nik."
Caroline sucked in a breath, hating how Rebekah's hurtful words reminded her of her place. For a blissful moment, she'd let herself pretend that Niklaus could be an actual suitor, that she had found someone who would treat her with respect.
"Mind your manners, Bekah," he said through clenched teeth, "Caroline is not a slave. She's of the bondsmen whose freedom may be secured."
Rebekah tossed back her thick plait, shrugging indifferently as she answered her brother. "Then you're a fool to believe father will see a difference. I wonder what he'll see as more disgraceful — the sordid company you keep or the fact that you're late to the elders' council meeting."
Coloring at his sister's taunt, Niklaus gave a brief nod to Caroline, telling her somberly, "My apologies, sweetheart. It appears I'm expected elsewhere at the moment."
As Caroline watched the Mikaelsons depart, she attempted to ignore the way her chest burned. It was prudent to be reminded that she wasn't permitted to care for a son of Mikael. And she wouldn't care. Ever.
Except the son of Mikael was an obstinate man, clearly putting himself in her path at every turn until she had no choice but to acknowledge him. He was most vexing with that knowing smirk and arrogant insistence that he knew superior methods for her duties better than she. As though a son of Mikael would know the first thing about working the land.
And then everything changed that day in the woods.
She'd been scrounging for sturdy willow sticks to whisk cream into butter in preparation for the chieftain's midsummer celebration. It was a days'-long feast that the noble families attended to curry favor with their people's leader, dining on sumptuous meats and the finest selection of fruits, breads and cheeses in the surrounding villages. Caroline hated how Master Alaric would force her to stay in the shadows during these rare events, summoning her with a rude gesture to refill his mead and wipe off his greasy hands.
A soft groan caught her attention, and she clutched her small ax tightly, wary of dangerous outlaws who lived in the woods. She quietly crept behind a wide tree trunk, surprised to see Niklaus huddled there, soaked in sweat and coppery traces of blood worrying the air. As she knelt before him, her heart sank at the way he shrank from her touch. "Niklaus, are you ill," she questioned, quickly removing her palm from his chest at his sharp cry of pain.
"Caroline," he panted, his face flushed, but whether from pain or shame she could not say. "It's nothing, a mere trifle."
She frowned, refusing to leave him be when he obviously was in great pain. She tentatively lifted the hem of his tunic, her blue eyes widening when she realized that much of the spotting on the dark fabric was from blood trails rather than sweat. As the protests died in his throat, she continued her explorations, carefully removing the ruined fabric to examine the damage. His wounds had been torn rather than carved, and she recognized at once the work of an iron ring forged with a sharp spike that their people often wore in battle. "You took part in a raid," she questioned, wondering if there were more wounded that needed tending.
"No," Niklaus bit out, gray eyes lowered in shame. "This was a reminder of my place."
"Your place," Caroline said slowly, trying to understand what he meant. Master Alaric's reminders of her place were swift and brutish; fortunately, she'd discovered the powdered yellow flowers that could be made into a healing salve. But she couldn't imagine that a son of Mikael would feel the weight of an unforgiving hand as she often experienced.
Frowning as she realized some of his deeper gashes were still bleeding, she tore off strips of her stiff underdress, quickly binding them. "A patch of yarrow grows not too far from here. A quick poultice mixed with the red clay from the creek bed will help staunch the bleeding until we can get you back to Ayana for proper healing."
He seemed taken aback by her words, his expression softening even as he shook with pain. "Mikael," he finally offered through clenched teeth. "My father does not tolerate defiance."
She let out a small gasp of surprise. Mikael's cruelty was common knowledge, but his temper in the village square only extended to servants and the slaves. To learn that he would turn his anger on his family, on Niklaus, was inconceivable. She tentatively brushed his chest, paying no mind to the streaks of blood as she placed her fingertips above his heart. "A child should never feel the sting of a father's rebuke quite so harshly. You do not deserve such anger."
The stricken look on Niklaus' handsome face spoke volumes. Even though he was part of the esteemed jarls, he believed he was worthless. How he must suffer. "And you do not deserve you plight, love." He impulsively leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers, a curious warmth spreading throughout her body as she surrendered to this impossible, gentle moment between them.
Caroline foolishly assumed that their brief encounter in the woods was an anomaly, and now that Niklaus had satisfied his curiosity about her, he'd bestow his affections to a maiden more befitting his station in their village. But nothing could be further from the truth.
Suddenly, he was everywhere — whispering outrageous compliments as she tended the vegetable gardens and murmuring promises as she fed the chickens. There'd been little joy in her life for so long; she relished their brief time together, cautiously allowing her heart to believe it might last. Sneaking off to the woods for feverish kisses, led to sharing secrets, then passionate confessions, until finally, a dangerous plan began to form.
Niklaus had been secreting away a store of silver coins along with parcels of dried meats, garments and weapons they could carry. They would head west, as far away from Mikael and Master Alaric as they dared to go, starting a new life together where they wouldn't be shamed for their love. They thought themselves so clever, keeping their romance hidden, arrogant to believe that no one knew of their plans.
Caroline was at the river fetching water, exuberant to know that in another moon's time, she and Niklaus would leave this place, never having to fear the wrath of his father or her master again. Completely lost in her pleasant daydreams, she didn't hear the careful footsteps and rustling of skirts until it was too late. When the blow came, she fell to her knees, registering an angry flash of green eyes before she faded away.
She awakened to knotted leather cords cutting into her flesh. At first, she was confused by the complicated patterns that crisscrossed her arms and legs, but then she saw the distaff, a spiked tool her people used with spinning wool and flax and she understood. It was covered in blood.
"You practice seiðr," she said harshly, only the widening of her blue eyes betraying her surprise to see Niklaus' sister before her. A sorcery only a rare few among her people wielded, it was used to shape one's own future. But when used with a bloodied distaff, it could bind another's future.
Rebekah pushed away the hood of her lambskin cloak, her blonde hair a severe plait that cascaded down to her waist. "I've kept my secrets far better than you and my brother," she harshly replied, scattering a handful of glass beads across the rotting tree stump between them. "My brother may overlook your inferior birth, but the rest of our family and our village will not. If Niklaus runs away with a slave, it will forever stain our reputation." Her voice turned into a venomous hiss. "You will not harm my chances of a proper marriage."
Caroline felt her heart beat wildly in her chest as she watched the furious woman pour blood from a wooden chalice into a series of powerful symbols. Eyeing the sacred wheel of the sun symbol warily, she spat, "Whatever you do to me, Niklaus will know. He'll find me and we'll be together and there's no sorcery that will stop us."
"What will Niklaus know," she asked in amusement, suddenly reaching forward to cruelly rip out a handful of Caroline's hair. "You lost your way in the woods, and perhaps came across wolves. Many never return, and our village mourns them. And then they're forgotten." She tossed Caroline's hair onto the blood-soaked tree stump, stirring it with the tip of the distaff.
Caroline's head ached from losing so much hair, but the pain was dulled by her growing fear as she realized Rebekah was forging a spinning charm like the ones the Nornir use to measure fate. Niklaus' sister chanted lowly, calling out to Freyja as she cast her curse. Caroline caught one word — huldra — and immediately cried out in horror. "No, please!" She couldn't become such a monster. It was a creature of her people's myths; a foul thing that dwelled in the forest and preyed on unsuspecting travelers.
Rebekah's smile was a deadly blade, never once wavering even as she mercilessly stabbed her own palm with the distaff, letting the blood trickle down her arm. "You are reborn a huldra; your love for Niklaus dead and forgotten."
For decades, the only memory Caroline recalled was the searing fire of cursed symbols painted in drying blood upon her flesh.
Late 1800s
But Rebekah had been mistaken. Her magic wasn't powerful enough to separate Caroline from herself forever. Caroline succumbed to her monster, relishing in the hunt as she tore apart those who strayed too far into the woods. But every so often, there was a flash, a glimmer of a dimpled smirk and soft words. And she tried with all her might to hang onto those pieces, not fully understanding their worth, but feeling they were important.
Eventually, Caroline reclaimed part of herself, willingly sharing her soul with her monster. Her love for Niklaus. The vengeance she swore against Rebekah. The unnatural world whispered and she listened, learning that Niklaus and his siblings were cursed into monsters as well, and they fled from the terrible wrath of Mikael to this day. Originals, the whispers trembled fearfully, but both the woman and the monster purred at the thought of her eventual reunion with Niklaus. She yearned to find her love and reveal Rebekah's treachery. She would find her love.
She studied Stefan in the firelight, the warmth of the flames echoed in his gaze as he unabashedly stared at her. Over the centuries, her monster had relished in the hunt, taking what it wanted, feeding an endless urge that could never be satisfied. However, as the woman within her slowly awakened, reclaiming the memories that had been stolen, she reached an uneasy truce with the beast who hid in her bones. Punish the guilty.
Her monster sensed Stefan's secrets. The way his smile was a touch too sharp. How he reeked of death. If she was a mortal, his monster would claim her screams. But Caroline's monster was stronger. Not bothering to hide her cunning smile, she slid off his coat, seductively rising to her feet. She knew how to appeal to the predator that peered at her hungrily. "Come find me, Stefan," she entreated, running off into the night.
She could feel the surge in his blood at the thrill of a merry chase, not bothering to hide his unnatural speed as he tore through the prickly underbrush and thick trees. Slipping into the crevice of a small cave, she began to sing softly, knowing the mossy stones would carry her voice throughout the forest.
"Such spirit for a little lamb."
When he grasped her by the waist and pulled her close, she allowed her features to grow frightened while he unsheathed sharp fangs and brandished them menacingly. As she stared at the delicate web of black veins underneath his eyes, she couldn't help but wonder if this was the face Niklaus' monster wore. Except he would be more handsome, she thought fiercely.
"You will be a fine meal. But first, I'll indulge in a bit of sport," he rasped, possessively running a hand along her neck.
"The stench of death surrounds you," she observed, her calm voice confusing him. "No amount of blood will ever slake your thirst." Before he could reply, she swiftly grasped his wrist, knowing he could feel the unexpected roughness of her flesh as her monster eagerly emerged. Stefan's eyes widened in fear as she revealed her unnatural strength, and he choked on his blood as Caroline bent her head to feast.
Later, she would wipe her bloodied hands and lips on his discarded coat, warming herself at the fire before continuing her journey. She vowed to roam the earth however long it took to find her Niklaus.
But her search often left her ravenous. There was a fire in the distance that roused her curiosity, and her monster smiled in pleasure when she sensed the ruthless, vicious men who rested there, knowing they couldn't resist a helpless maiden.
Caroline approached, asking them hopefully, "Won't you share your fire?"
