Author's note: Thanks for leaving me reviews! Also, the KC Awards are happening soon on tumblr (kcawards), and I hope you'll consider nominating my writing! In this story, desperate to forge an alliance after her warlord father's death, Caroline is grateful (yet wary) to the powerful Mikaelson kingdom for their offer to wed their eldest son. But an alliance carved out of need rarely goes as planned...
There is nothin' fair in this world
There is nothin' safe in this world
— "White Wedding" by Billy Idol
Black for her wedding. Caroline stubbornly clung to her mourning clothes for the duration of her journey down the Arcadius River to the Mikaelson Kingdom. Her father's grave was still warm when her mother assumed the celebrated warlord's mantle and arranged a swift match for Caroline. A fiercely secretive people, Caroline only knew her betrothed's name — Finn Mikaelson.
As the eldest son, at least Finn would be privy the pressures of duty to family — something upon which their bond could be built. The miniature she'd received from their court messenger had been expertly carved; clearly, the Mikaelsons artists were some of the finest in all the land. However, gazing at the portrait of her betrothed did not fill her with hope; there was something cold in his gaze, a supercilious expression that made her own lip curl in protest. This would not be a happy match.
Unfortunately, Caroline would add to that impression the moment her longship was met by Mikaelson guardsmen rather than her betrothed. She tried to remind herself that the Mystic people's customs weren't necessarily Finn's, but still, she couldn't help the flicker of disappointment that settled in her heart. And then it quickly was replaced by rage when she was asked to leave behind her own small retinue of guardsmen to begin building the bonds of trust.
She'd brought only her most trusted warriors, leaving the rest with her mother. Since her father's death, their lands had become vulnerable, and only this alliance with the Mikaelson Kingdom could bring her people the security they deserved. But that didn't mean she would stand for the head guardsman's rudeness. "Where will my warriors be housed and fed while my betrothed and I 'forge these bonds of trust'?"
There was a flicker of surprise among the Mikaelson guards, but one of them gruffly explained they would be well-cared for in the small village just beyond the walls. Caroline exchanged a wordless look with her soldiers before following her betrothed's men up the steep stone walkway to the castle.
Her presentation to the Mikaelson court was just as uncomfortable as she'd feared. Even without their sumptuous clothing and regal bearing, the Mikaelson clan were an attractive lot. Caroline felt a twinge of embarrassment as she stood before them in her embroidered shift and intricate plaits threaded with copper pins. Her people embraced function over frivolity, and while her garments were considered pleasing, it was clear her betrothed's family did not agree.
Finn's hazel gaze swept over her without comment before attending to his mother once more, helping her to her chair and summoning the servants to begin the feast. His sister tossed back her unbound blond locks, a sneer marring Rebekah's lovely face as she said, "Such a pity about your hair. If you don't fancy a cold bed, perhaps you can harvest the wild strawberries in our woods and dye your hair." At Caroline's obvious confusion, she mockingly confessed, "One of Finn's favorite whores is a redhead."
When Finn failed to admonish his sister for her rudeness, Caroline smiled her most vicious of smiles, telling Rebekah, "Such a close family. If all your siblings have such bawdy knowledge of each other, it's understandable why the Mikaelsons do not court with the other kingdoms — perhaps they prefer to keep their courting at home."
A surprised guffaw caught her attention as the middle brother, Klaus, took his seat across from her. "While I've often worried about you and any number of our servants, dear sister, now I'm forced to reconsider those times you stubbornly sided with Finn whenever we've sparred."
The amused smirk Klaus flashed Caroline made her uncomfortably warm, but she chose not to dwell on such thoughts that only would make her time here even more painful. Clearing her throat, she awkwardly announced, "I brought a gift for Finn; it's just a small token of gratitude for the miniature I'd received." She nodded to a servant to hand over the small leather pouch to Finn, who seemed to eye it suspiciously. "I hope to meet your court artist soon; that miniature was exquisitely rendered."
Unexpectedly, Klaus shyly ducked his head, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Thank you," he muttered, idly toying with the carved serving bowl before him. As Finn disinterestedly looked at the iron cuff she'd made, Klaus sat up a bit straighter, telling Caroline, "Your blacksmith is quite skilled — I'd be interested in learning this particular forge-welding process."
"Don't be absurd, brother. It pales in comparison to the craftsmanship of our blacksmiths," Finn snidely retorted.
Feeling her temper rise, Caroline glared at Finn before telling Klaus, "Actually, blacksmithing is one of my hobbies. Our lands are fairly remote and merchants seldom reach us, so we needed to learn other trades for the survival of the Mystic people." Inwardly pleased at the affronted looks on Finn, Rebekah and Esther's faces, she hardened her tone to add, "There's no shame in being useful." Caroline had to remind herself that her people needed this alliance in order to solidify their power and stave off raids, but the disrespect Finn and his family had shown her was beyond anything she'd feared.
And then there was Klaus. His obvious discomfort at his family's rudeness had made her feel better, and then his open admiration of her work had been charming...just like his dimples. No. That is the path to madness.
Esther exchanged an amused smile with her eldest son, her tone deceptively airy as she commented, "I suppose some have a different definition of useful. For example, my king and our other sons are training warriors to strengthen our borders and plotting future raids. That is what we consider useful."
Rebekah amicably clinked her goblet with Esther's, her tone condescending as she rudely slipped into their native tongue. "Isn't it fascinating how weak, useless people always have pale eyes like Caroline's?"
"Don't be so hasty, sister," Finn lazily interjected, also speaking their language. "My betrothed may have other uses — I suspect that stubbornness will be quite enjoyable to tame."
Caroline felt her nails cut into her palms as she worked to keep her face neutral. Do not let them know you speak their language. She let the harsh, jagged edges of their foreign tongue flow over her, hating that she needed to look politely puzzled rather than scrambling for the table knives to viciously plunge them into their throats. Her people needed her. If there was any way she could make this alliance work, she had to try.
"That's enough," Klaus interjected, speaking in the regional dialect they all assumed was the only language they had in common with Caroline. "Caroline would probably like to retire to her quarters and rest after the long journey."
Caroline smiled, the first genuine smile she'd been able to summon since she'd arrived. She appreciated the effort Klaus was making, but from his family's disgusted sneers, a vicious argument was brewing. Likely the first of many, she thought with a sigh as she quietly excused herself.
Her future marriage was undoubtedly bleak, but at least Caroline would be miserable inside a magnificent structure. She ran a hand along the impressive stonework, surprised to see such whimsical creatures in this rigid court. She was idly wondering whether Klaus had created some of the wolves when she heard footsteps. Scowling at the thought of having to put on a brave face in front of more insults, she quietly hid in a larder.
Crouching among the shelves and hanging meat, she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was two servants chattering away animatedly in the rough syllables of the Mikaelsons' people.
"The Mystic whore fancies herself worthy to be a Mikaelson bride." Barking laughter rang out as the sharp-eyed servant whispered to the other, "Our Queen demanded we burn the bowl and knife she used. When will this farce end?"
"Soon," the other confidently replied. "Our King is moving the mightiest of the warriors into place. They will swarm the Mystic lands and that upstart shieldmaiden Elizabeth will lay down her arms to save her whore daughter."
Caroline barely held back an angry bellow at what she'd overheard. The Mikaelsons were their enemies. Her life was in danger. Her mother's. Their people. She wanted to weep and tear at her hair. And cut out the tongues of those guttersnipe servants. Angrily clenching her fists, she summoned a calm she didn't feel. Her people needed her.
Fortunately, her warriors were well-trained and by now, they'd established a series of lookout points as a safety measure. They were expecting her first signal in a few hours. She may have been desperate for this alliance, but she wasn't foolish. Enemies often were those most eager to help. She quietly slipped down the hall, critically eyeing the masonry. As a way to distract herself earlier, she'd paced several of the rooms, noting that the dimensions seemed off. There were hidden passages that could lead her to freedom. And then she would bring the war these Mikaelsons foolishly craved.
A few experimental taps later and Caroline was no closer to finding a hidden door. She noticed that the antlers that graced one wall seemed arranged in a haphazard manner, and started to tug on the ends when a grating noise startled her. She whirled around, blue eyes widening as Klaus stepped through an opening in the stone wall behind her.
This was it. Her enemy may draw first blood, but she vowed take him with her. With a practiced flick of her wrist, the short knife was released from its leather strap hidden in her sleeve. She couldn't help the pleased smile at the way Klaus warily moved away, clearly recognizing her as a threat. Except his expression was one she couldn't place...was he...surely that wasn't lust in his gaze?
"Take me with you," Klaus blurted out, the tips of his ears reddening as Caroline gaped at him in shock. "I — I mean, I loathe my family."
The stuttering wouldn't sway her. She refused to be attracted to such a reckless man. Summoning her fury, she hissed, "You knew of your family's plot to hold me hostage while they raid my people's lands. I've no doubt my throat would be slit the moment my mother surrendered."
He sighed, running his fingers through his curls in frustration. "You've no reason to trust me, but I will swear whatever oath you require. I wish to save your life, Caroline; but I need you to save mine as well. I'll show you the tunnels that lead to your warriors, but you must take me back to your lands."
There was something in his tone, a sincerity that she'd found lacking in the rest of his family. As Caroline studied Klaus closely, she was astonished to see he was wearing the iron cuff she'd forged for his brother. Noting her attention, he solemnly touched her gift, vowing, "I choose you, Caroline."
The fluttering in her chest was ill-timed, but she couldn't deny her attraction to Klaus. Perhaps he was being truthful. She took his hand, allowing him to lead her down the hidden passageway.
And as Klaus gave her a grateful smile, Caroline reminded herself that if it didn't work out, he would make an excellent hostage.
