Author's note: This is a sequel to Chapter 135: Part 5 - Klaroline Fall Bingo ("Broomstick" prompt). Special thanks to storm-pirate for all the messages and reviews that inspired me to come up with this sequel (sorry for the ridiculously long wait!) Klaus has returned from the past with his coveted moonstone — after stealing it from a charming blonde. Unfortunately, he's about to discover that the present isn't quite how he left it.
Warning: Maybe angst...depending on how you felt about how Chapter 135 ended...
"Never underestimate a man's ability to underestimate a woman."
— Kathleen Turner
One month — that was all it took to win Caroline's trust. And mere seconds to break it forever. But Klaus shouldn't care. Because that was centuries ago and his witch's spell had pulled him back through time to the present. To the eve of his ritual. That was what mattered.
And yet, he was scarred by the feel of burning kisses from the intriguing maiden who'd brought such sweet chaos to his world. The feelings he'd developed for Caroline had been both unexpected and unwelcome; that clever mind and delightfully sharp tongue led him astray and nearly ruined his mission.
Nearly. After all, he was the Original Hybrid, destined to unlock his wolf, and sentimentality would not stay his hand. Besides, Caroline existed centuries ago, and was nothing more than bones and dust now. Klaus winced at the harshness of his thoughts; even his black heart felt the sting of that morose reality. He'd sensed a faint trace of power in her, but in that oppressive, dangerously superstitious village, Caroline certainly wouldn't have been able to practice her craft and learn the necessary spells and enchantments to preserve her health.
It was a profound loss, not having Caroline's light in this time. Do not dwell on regrets. The ritual is what mattered. With an impatient sigh, Klaus banged on the frame of the screen door, his supernatural hearing picking up the slow shuffle of human feet. When Greta finally pushed open the door, her voice was hoarse from sleep as she snarled, "Yeah? What do you want?"
Affronted that his pet witch was behaving as though she didn't know him, he accused, "You're late, witch. I waited in the clearing for hours because you said the spell needed the extra layer of celestial power the moon could provide."
"Witch? Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Klaus raised an eyebrow, considering her carefully. Greta had few uses and wasn't known for her humor. She also normally maintained a healthy dose of fear in his presence. Growling in irritation, he gripped her throat, allowing his voice to turn deceptively silken as he compelled her. "Is this a plot to betray me, witch? You send me back in time to secure the moonstone for the ritual and now you defy me? Are you working with Elijah?!"
She shook her head, her tone lifeless and flat as she protested fearfully, "I'm just a freshman at Whitmore. You're talking about witches and time travel and rituals like some creepy weirdo. None of that stuff is real!"
Klaus paused, studying the terrified woman closely. She was telling the truth as she knew it to be. How had this timeline been altered? He'd been so careful. His fingers grazed the smooth surface of the moonstone tucked in his pocket, and it calmed him. Greta was an insignificant trifle; there were other witches in his employ. His stride was confident once more as he wordlessly left her house, intent to seek out a suitable replacement.
Maddox should be here. He was fanatically loyal to Klaus, maiming and killing indiscriminately whenever the Original Hybrid commanded. And he should bloody well be here. Klaus impatiently paced the length of the penthouse suite, perplexed that Maddox's number now seemed to belong to a vegan restaurant called Cauliflower Power, in which a slow-witted imbecile tried to extoll the virtues of the day's special, beet and cauliflower tiramisu.
Gnashing his teeth, Klaus snarled, "Maddox. Now."
There was a long pause in which the cretin said, "So...like no can do because...like Maddox, man, he's trying to mellow out with his soy spiritualist and get right with his, you know, like mental mind."
Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. He spoke 734 modern languages and 201 dead languages, and yet he still needed to carefully parse the dimwit's garbled speech. "I once watched Maddox snap his wrist and cause a spoon to drive itself up a man's nose to slowly scoop out bits of brain. You cannot possibly expect me to believe that my bloodthirsty, wonderfully psychotic witch now follows something called a soy spiritualist."
To his credit, the speaker seemed only mildly phased by Klaus' words (but then again, he seemed more than "mildly" stoned). "Uh, yeah, so like...you've got all these negative vibes about wiccans, man, and that's so not cool. Tell you what, I'm an amateur chakra alignment specialist, so if you come by, I can try to cleanse your aura, ok?"
To his everlasting shame, Klaus quickly disconnected the call, dropping the phone to the carpet as though that special brand of insanity could be transmitted. Shaking his head irritably, he tried to make sense of what was going on. A witch's spell allowed him to travel back in time to find the moonstone, but when the spell snapped him back to the present, he discovered that two of his most loyal witches were no longer witches and furthermore, had no knowledge of the supernatural.
Panic rising, Klaus sought out Gloria in Chicago, his covens in New Orleans and Baton Rouge, and even witches loyal to his other siblings. Each time, he found that somehow the ancestral lines of every coven loyal to the Originals had never inherited their powers. Bollocks. This is why time travel was so dangerous; the least disturbance in the ripples of time carried lasting echoes.
Just when he was at his wit's end, tearing his way up and down the East Coast with fang and claw to root out even the tiniest speck of magic (spawning amusing rumors of a cult of serial killers), Klaus finally caught a lead.
Two stops to refuel and fifteen hours later, his claws had pierced through the luxury jet's hand-crafted leather armrests to expose the stainless framework. Klaus gripped the moonstone, reminding himself that it was a necessary evil. Like betraying Caroline. The judgmental thought mercilessly plagued his mind, taunting him with cruel images of how crestfallen she must've been to discover his treachery.
His body vibrated with anxious energy, and not even the gleaming, picturesque view of the Gulf of Gabès could purge his guilty conscience. Walking along the sparsely populated northwestern tip of Djerba, he found it fitting that such a powerful sorcerer would desire his privacy. The remote island was accessible by a precariously narrow causeway, and his skin prickled with a fierce current of warding magic as he approached the white rock seawall that marked the edge of the sorcerer's property.
It was a surprisingly modest home and oddly cheerful considering the dark and powerful magics the sorcerer was rumored to wield. The blue clay tiles decorating the roof along with a mosaic of leaping dolphins dotting the winding walkway added a curious touch of whimsy. Klaus shrugged, unconcerned with the sorcerer's peculiar sense of humor.
He knew very little about the area and its people, and unfortunately, its official Berber language was not in his repertoire. However, he spoke passably coherent Arabic, Somali and Swahili, and was confident he could convey his request. Show no fear. If he couldn't force this sorcerer to perform his ritual, how long before he could locate another witch with enough power to succeed? This sorcerer was his best and only option.
He briskly knocked on the door, raising a curious eyebrow as his boots effortlessly crossed the threshold. Klaus had anticipated every moment, weighed every possibility, and counted the cost of every decision. But he hadn't counted on Caroline.
Familiar blonde curls and blazing blue eyes stared him down until he winced from the heat of her accusing stare. She slowly set down a brass teacup on the tray at the side table, her movements smooth and steady. Pointing at the moonstone, she said simply, "That's mine."
Klaus' black heart thudded and he openly gaped at the woman he'd foolishly buried and mourned in his thoughts. "It's...you?"
She nodded gravely. "I'm me." Another brass teacup floated to his empty hand, cheekily nudging at his fingers. "Mint tea?"
He asked incredulously, "I haven't seen you in centuries and you're offering me tea?"
"Technically, the time-space continuum says you saw me just a few days ago. And mint tea with pine nuts is a traditional way to demonstrate manners." She paused, mouth pulled into a grim smile as she added, "Although our previous history has shown a distinct lack of manners on your part."
Despite her mild tone, a darkness flared in her gaze. Shame flooded his body as he sat across from her. "I stole your trust," he bluntly said, the harsh truth weighing down his tongue.
With a fierce glare, the moonstone flew out of his hand and neatly landed in hers. "You stole more than just my trust."
Klaus finally took a drink, letting the hot tea flow through his body as he contemplated the woman before him. She was exactly as he remembered — a sweet, melodic voice hiding a razor-sharp wit. And also nothing like he remembered. That faint trace of power he'd sensed in her back then was a trickling stream; what flowed through Caroline's veins now was a raging ocean threatening to drown the world. "I had my secrets when we met," he began, vaguely gesturing all around her as he observed, "but it seems you had your own as well."
"I shared the secret of the ruins with you. Clearly, that was one secret too many," she replied, sipping her tea. "You used me to find the moonstone. And now you're here because...?"
That piercing gaze of hers made Klaus shift uncomfortably in his chair, like a truant schoolboy about to be told off. "I need you to perform a ritual to unlock my wolf side," he finally mumbled, staring at his boots as the tips of his ears reddened.
She burst out laughing, eyes twinkling in mirth as she mocked him again and again. His monster snarled in his chest, needing to regain control of this disgraceful chaos. He was the Original Hybrid — his legacy of blood and cruelty were legends that echoed throughout the ages — and yet she bore no fear of him. Worthy, a traitorous thought whispered. He impatiently batted it away as his fangs unsheathed. "It's unwise to cross me, sweetheart."
"And it's unwise to be a dick when you need a favor."
Klaus was so taken aback by Caroline's venomous retort, he felt his fangs recede once more. Such fire. It's what had intrigued him back when they first met, and despite this vexing situation, he secretly was pleased her fire burned as brightly as ever. From her defiant expression, Klaus realized he needed to change tactics. Flattery would soften those rough edges. "You're as clever as always, sweetheart. I must admit, you have me at a loss. Will you tell me how you did it?" At her questioning brow, he prodded, "Witches once loyal to my family now have no knowledge of the supernatural or powers."
Her sly smile was quite arousing, and Klaus subtly shifted, inwardly cursing. These feelings were becoming quite the nuisance. "After you robbed me and ran away, I performed numerous locator spells, searching the lands for you. It was the manner in which they failed that led me to consider the absurd notion that you'd come from the future."
Robbed her and ran away? He felt a flare of anger once more at how she'd managed to reduce his behavior to that of a disgraceful cutpurse rather than understanding that his actions served a greater purpose. He needed his wolf — how could she not see that? She would learn, another traitorous thought surfaced, and then she'll serve at his side.
"I'd always suspected that magic and science were kinsmen, but it took a long time to figure out how to leap forward in time to perform rituals that would remove the power of every witch bloodline you and your family could use for your ritual." Caroline toyed with the delicate fringe along the cream and gold pillows, a pleased smile curving her lips as she explained, "I became convinced that patterns of time were organized as a series of strings, moving in harmony. With the right combination of magic and spells, I figured out how to slip forward in time, learning everything I could about the Original Hybrid."
Klaus was gobsmacked. "You...you invented string theory centuries before the most celebrated scientists in history first contemplated it?" At her indifferent shrug, he pressed on incredulously, "But scientists today still don't fully understand it! And yet, you succeeded with the most rudimentary of resources to propel yourself forward through time — that, even the most powerful witches had once assured me was an impossible feat!" What a magnificent creature.
She rolled her eyes and with an inelegant snort, she said, "My village was a terrifying hellscape of superstition and any hint of 'otherworldly abilities' would sentence you to burn. 'The most rudimentary of resources'doesn't begin to describe what I went through to get here."
Klaus shook his head, murmuring reverently, "You are truly extraordinary, and I can't begin to tell you the shame I felt for betraying you." He rushed on, clumsily stumbling over his words as he implored, "I didn't know I was a werewolf until I triggered the transformation. There was a beautiful freedom to it that I only was allowed to experience for a few moments before it was cruelly locked away." Casting a furtive glance in her direction, he sighed heavily as he told her, "I need your help to make me whole once more."
A hint of compassion cross her lovely face as she stood. When Caroline leaned over him, Klaus felt his stubborn, foolish heart beat once more as a stray blonde curl tickled his cheek. He couldn't recall the last time a woman had such an effect on him. She made him forget he was a monster. She placed her palm on his chest, and Klaus' pulse raced in anticipation of those familiar, burning kisses that haunted his dreams.
But instead her eyes turned black. Klaus felt a horrible tugging sensation in his gut, and Caroline favored him with the sweetest, most vicious smile he'd ever seen, waving the moonstone at him. Waving goodbye.
The air felt thick, pushing and pulling his body until he began to fall. He finally landed in an undignified tangle of limbs. Cursing in several languages, he sat up, momentarily confused as he blinked at a familiar-looking forge.
With a start, he realized several people were pointing at him, their ragged peasant garments revealing his predicament before he could form the words. They were joined by a larger group who bellowed, "Witch!" Once they began brandishing pitchforks, Klaus sighed in irritation.
It appeared that Caroline would require a bit more flattery to soften those rough edges.
