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This was written for the Klarowinter Bingo Event. This historical AU takes place in 1609-1610, known as the "Starving Time" in the Jamestown, Virginia, colony. Dark times have come to the colony, and Caroline's village is trapped in a harsh, unforgiving winter. But the eccentric newcomers propose an unorthodox remedy to their hunger...
Prompt: Black ice
Warning: Angst. Plus, tasteful portrayals of cannibalism...no pun intended. Probably.
"There was nothing in her imagination to replace the formless, unchanging days of starvation. She clung to life because it seemed to have value, even if only to her."
— Shelley Parker-Chan, She Who Became the Sun
The starving time had come to the Jamestown colony. The endless cycle of warfare with the tribes had squandered the lives of too many of their able-bodied men. Those left behind couldn't properly tend the fields and the crops had withered before a proper harvest was collected. It had been an especially cruel winter. Caroline inwardly sighed, slicking her cracked, bleeding hands with salve and spurning the curious stare of Master Mikaelson once more. Despite the dire circumstances, he was bedecked in his usual finery of sumptuous velvets, silks, and leather trimmed with soft fur. Just one of those exquisitely crafted gold buttons from his waistcoat could've seen the survivors through this unforgiving winter.
He'd recently arrived with several of his kinsmen on the second charter issued by the king, but the meager supplies they unloaded quickly were devoured, leaving the colonists even more desperate and fearful. If only she'd followed her instincts at the first withered corn husk and loaded her wagon then. It might not have carried her to the other sea as she once dreamed, but any life was better than the death she soon would face in this doomed settlement. By now, the snowdrifts had buried the narrow pass through the mountains, cruelly cutting off their only means of escape. It was one of the few times that the Mikaelsons' ostentatious wealth wouldn't make a difference, she inwardly scoffed.
Not that the Mikaelson family seemed to have suffered. Their continued robust health in the harshest of conditions raised quite the idle speculation among the villagers. Once viewed as an odd mix of wealthy eccentrics, as the supplies became scarce, curiosity gave way to envy and suspicion as many assumed the Mikaelsons had secreted away food. If such wickedness lurked in their hearts, then Caroline had faith that god would see to their punishment in due haste.
Not bothering to see if Master Mikaelson followed, she bundled herself with a heavy wool cloak and blankets and braved the blistering wind once more. Caroline quickly rushed toward the small stone bridge that led to the meetinghouse where the last of the villagers remained. The tainted water supply had taken many, and even more had succumbed to scurvy, the bloody flux, and sweating sickness, but it was hunger that sent most to their graves. Those with enough strength had gone to their small timber and mud dwellings to bring back what meager supplies remained.
Her hands shook under the simple weight of her hickory bark basket, the broken bits of tallow candles and kindling bundles tied with old twine felt like boulders in her thin arms, and Caroline briefly closed her eyes, wondering how much longer she could carry on. A presence at Caroline's back and a firm hand impudently pressed on her arm caused her to recoil, baring blunt teeth at Master Mikaelson for taking such liberties. "Your gesture is most improper — as was your offer to accompany me without benefit of an escort, Master Mikaelson," she bit out, shivering as she steadied herself on the thin oak rail that crisscrossed the bridge.
"Surely Mother Nature's most brutal judgement on this colony allows such rigid customs some leeway," he commented in amusement, nimbly walking along the stone bridge with the greatest of ease.
He was well-formed, which must've aided in such fleetness of foot, and Caroline cursed herself for noticing such frivolous nonsense. Those gray eyes that darkened in her presence, tracing her every movement was a hindrance, not a blessing. A perilous time was upon her people, and she cared not for such wanton pursuits. No matter how her traitorous heart quickened in his presence.
A thin layer of ice covered the black river stones, and she slid her worn shoe along the edge, the buckle snagging her ragged petticoats' hemlines. She wobbled gracelessly along the black ice, nearly losing her balance over the side, but Klaus' hand shot out with surprising dexterity, steadying her. How could the slightest of brushes burn so sinfully?
"Careful, Mistress Forbes, do not tempt god into taking you before your time," he silkily replied.
Oh, how his voice aroused such unseemly thoughts! Had the winter's unforgiving winds not sapped what little energy she had, Caroline was quite certain her face would be aflame. A quick glance at the icy river below sent her reeling as she realized how close she'd come to plunging into its depths. "Not that god has long to wait. I fear soon he'll reap every precious soul left in the colony." She shook her head to rid it of such bitter thoughts. "And it is C-C-Caroline," she haltingly replied through chattering teeth. "You saved my life, henceforth, I must insist you call me thus."
As they crossed the bridge together, he patted her arm, murmuring, "Then by all means, please call me Klaus." Gray eyes darkened as an expression crossed his handsome face too fast for her to fully understand as he told her, "Your life is of great import. I will spurn even god to ensure its longevity."
Caroline blinked in surprise, wary of his intent...and yet, in her heart of hearts, she found herself intrigued. Before she could give voice to her improper thoughts, they crossed the threshold of the meetinghouse, a morbid hush falling over them as they saw small groups with their hollow faces huddled before flickering candlelight and the fireplaces on either end of the room.
As Caroline handed out the sparse supplies, Councilman Lockwood was joined by Klaus' kinsmen, Mistress Rebekah and Master Kol, whose intimidating presence normally kept everyone at arm's length. However, now he listened intently to the lilting tones, their coaxing murmurs settling over him like a soothing balm. Klaus stood motionless beside her, as though listening for something only he could hear, but Caroline was too concerned by Councilman Lockwood's dazed expression as he addressed those gathered.
"Our sorrow is great for those that god has seen fit to reap. We've been tested to the limits of our humanity and have been struck down by grim deeds necessary to survive," he reminded them in a tone that was oddly devoid of emotion considering all that their people had endured.
Caroline recalled how they raided snake dens in the early days of hunger, charring the stringy meat over their fires and fighting over the bloody scraps of skin. As supplies dwindled to nothing, many had taken to boiling shoe leather with bark and the scant acorns dug out of the snow drifts. But most alarming was how her people had strayed from god in their desperation, turning upon their neighbors in a barbarous manner. The violence in their hearts was borne by the devil and his most vile temptations, and Caroline grasped at hope that soon god would calm such savagery and bless them once more.
The glassy-eyed Councilman Lockwood stated flatly, "Our people have suffered and paid the ultimate price, but perhaps it is not in vain." There was a pause, and Caroline couldn't help but notice how Mistress Rebekah slyly traced her lips with one nail. It somehow felt...indecent to gaze at her. Master Kol leaned forward with eager anticipation, looking upon the villagers with a heartless air. Their eyes grew dark with malicious intent as Councilman Lockwood proclaimed, "Our bodies are starved for sustenance; they cry out for meat, and meat they shall have."
The candlelight underscored Councilman Lockwood's sallow, gaunt features as he brought forth a wooden platter of ragged meat, holding it aloft in a gesture eerily similar to when they collected alms during worship. "Consume the flesh of our fallen brethren; their bodies are an offering to sustain our stalwart flock."
The few startled gasps among those gathered was not such an outcry as Caroline would've liked. Where was the indignation, the fury of a god-fearing people? Hollow-cheeked, with skin stretched tight over bones, she realized hunger had swallowed their righteousness. Those that seemed the most uncertain huddled together, trembling and sending dark looks toward Councilman Lockwood. Mistress Rebekah and Master Kol stood apart from the gathering, quietly observing with a malevolent glint in their sharp gazes. Their curiosity seemed almost blasphemous.
One by one, shaking hands finally took bits of the flesh, bony fingers clutched around the morsels as though to hide their shameful act. Furtive glances around the meetinghouse were reminiscent of wild dogs they'd once encountered, feral beasts that snarled and snapped. The sour, stifling air was fraught with tension, and Caroline all but choked on her unease. What madness was this? That her fellow man could be brought so low was unconscionable.
She desperately wanted to look away, but was helpless to stop her crude curiosity. With growing horror, she watched Mistress Gilbert pluck a roughly butchered piece and place it upon her tongue. Revulsion was there — but was it only because Caroline needed to see it? What she truly found on her friend's once-lovely visage was sweet relief.
Caroline placed arms about herself, needing a small bit of comfort at the ghoulish sights unfolding in the meetinghouse. She found herself inching closer to Klaus, inexplicably craving the inherent authority of his presence. As though he understood her need for refuge, he sent Caroline an encouraging nod, but made no move to embrace or otherwise make improper overtures. She appreciated his steadiness in this matter and steeled her spine as she witnessed neighbor after neighbor fall prey to hunger's sway.
There was no change to their demeanor — they ate and were themselves. And yet...Caroline imagined a piece of their humanity had been torn away. And all the while, Mistress Rebekah and Master Kol seemed transfixed at the cursed sight — as though they gleaned pleasure from such deplorable acts. They frightened her. Much like Klaus should. But she stubbornly refused to name the peculiar fascination he struck within her.
The hunger pangs had grown worse, nearly doubling her over. She'd almost grown used to the gnawing presence, but now presented with an answer to her pain, it was difficult to ignore, no matter how troubling its origin. Could she...? All around her, others had obeyed the command of Councilman Lockwood, and appeared to suffer no great ills for their actions. Perhaps they already were damned.
As though sensing her dilemma, Klaus gently squeezed her shoulder and murmured quietly, "Wait here. I'll...bring what you need."
Even through the thick wool layers of her cloak and blankets, Caroline fancied his touch somehow warmed her from within. What a foolish notion — the meetinghouse barely chased the chill from their bones. Klaus returned swiftly, carrying with him an unreadable expression as he carefully handed her the cursed flesh. The piece was a rosy red, and oddly moist. As it sat in her shaking palm, she almost imagined it to be swine. She fuzzily scoffed at her momentary fantasy — the pigs had been the first to be butchered back when their village still had faith.
With a palm to her heart, Caroline forced down the bite, repeating to herself that it was sustenance, and necessary for survival, over and over. Meat was meat. It had an unpleasant metallic taste that made her retch, and as Klaus reached for her, she noticed he must have cut his palm. Concerned, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket to bandage the wound, but instead he pulled her into his embrace within a shadowy corner of the meetinghouse.
His hands rested along her jaw, strong and firm. There was a purpose she couldn't quite glean to his actions, and it threatened to consume what was left of her sanity. They'd never touched with such frankness and Caroline wondered at the curious possessiveness she saw in his eyes. Feeling her heart stutter at his closeness, confusion clouded Caroline's mind as black veins suddenly appeared underneath his eyes when Klaus murmured, "You'll be magnificent, Caroline."
The sharp crack and momentary pain seemed to be both a threat and a promise that followed Caroline into the darkness.
