His siblings were awake.

Klaus had spent years dreaming of the day they could be a family again, the day when they would finally be safe from Mikael's wrath. Upon his death, the only reason his siblings remained in boxes was he wanted to secure the doppelganger without their interference - that, and neutralize Stefan Salvatore. He should have just sent Sam to bite the psychotic ripper, but with the way Stefan had dropped hybrid bodies left, right and centre - and then stolen his mother's coffin - he'd been too afraid to act.

The reunion with his siblings hadn't been anything like he had imagined. He had expected anger, even outrage; the usual tantrums after spending so much time in a box. But his siblings instead stood united against him, threatening to turn their backs on him forever. Hated him, for killing their mother. Despite his despair at the thought of being alone, deep down he knew he couldn't fault them for that. He hated himself too.

For centuries, their mother's death had always haunted him, his deepest regret. He had only ever told two people, such was his shame - Aurora and Lycaon.

With Aurora, the wound was still raw, still weeping. At the time, his honesty was more a need for release, a need to tell at least someone lest he be driven mad. He wanted to be punished, to be told what a monster he was - but buried down in the darkness, he also wanted to be forgiven. Aurora had remained quiet as he spoke, listening attentively as he explained everything, looking up at him with those big doe eyes. His voice cracked as he told the tale of his werewolf heritage, the death of Henrik, the binding ritual and his mother's betrayal, and finally the slaughter of his father's pack. When he reached the point of his mother's murder, he couldn't look at her, too afraid of seeing the horror in his eyes. The fear. But she surprised him, like she always did, her small hand moving to rest on his cheek and forcing him to meet her eyes. Even centuries later, he still remembered the words she said to him that night:

"You didn't deserve their cruelty, Nik. She was entirely to blame for the fate that befell her, and anyone who believes otherwise is not worthy of your love."

Her forgiveness had been such a shock, his body tense waiting for her rejection, he had spent the rest of the night held in her arms, his tears falling silently. With Lycaon, the situation had been completely different. It was centuries later when his naivety and vulnerability had long since been lost by decades of violence and betrayals. They had been arguing about something - in fact it was probably their first fight since Lycaon had found him - and Klaus had just snapped. Lycaon always left, never staying long, citing excuses that he needed to hunt down Mikael or was needed elsewhere by prominent werewolf packs. In his rage, Klaus blamed Lycaon for leaving him with Mikael as a boy; blamed him for being raised without a pack, a family - blamed him for his mother's death, despite him being the one who ripped out her heart.

Klaus had expected Lycaon to be angry, to be enraged that his son had killed his once-lover. And Lycaon was - furious - that is. But not at Klaus. Oh no. He had watched in disbelief as Lycaon snarled and roared about Esther, how he wished he had been the one to tear out her apart. Not because he sought revenge, but because he believed Klaus should never have been put in the position to make such a choice, that a child should never feel so threatened by their parents that the only option left was violence. Lycaon hadn't been angry at him, he had been angry for him.

That moment had been one of many where Klaus realised he could trust Lycaon far more than he could trust any of his siblings. Because he understood. He truly, wholly, understood in a way his siblings never had. Which had always made his blood father's absence harder to deal with. Now, more so than ever.

Their mother had been resurrected, doing the one thing he would never have expected - she forgave him. She reunited their family as one, declared it was time to heal old wounds. It made Klaus nervous, deeply craving Lycaon's advice and support. His siblings had all been so overjoyed to see her alive they hadn't objected to her wishes, tolerating his presence. But that was all it was. Tolerance. Not love. Klaus was certain their love for him had died the moment his sins were revealed. The bitter part of him wished they had left. At least then, they all wouldn't have to pretend this bloody charade of acceptance to keep their mother happy.

Klaus strode through the mansion at the thought, fists clenched tightly by his sides. As he drew closer to the room he knew his siblings were in, having their suits fitted for the Ball their mother had requested to host, his hearing picked up their voices.

"Rebekah. Tell me how handsome I look."

That was definitely Kol, the arrogant wanker.

"Oh, Kol, you know I can't be compelled."

Klaus scowled harder upon hearing his sister's voice, his anger and frustration rising to dangerous levels. He threw the door open, striding inside with enraged purpose.

"You went after Elena. What is wrong with you." He snarled. The hybrid he had tail Elena called him this morning, after waking up from a snapped neck. Apparently his sister had got the jump on him, moving onto Elena straight after. Luckily, the doppelgänger was still alive despite the hybrid's incompetence - Klaus suspected Elijah had interfered. His brother always did have a weak spot for the Petrova line, despite his denial on the subject.

Speaking of the devil, Elijah looked up from inspecting his new shoes upon Klaus' dramatic entrance, just as Finn hid a smirk a few feet away. Klaus scowled harder at the sight of their clear amusement.

"Here we go." Rebekah greeted with a mocking smile, shooing the manicurist away and drawing her hands to her lap. Klaus glared.

"Do you want another dagger in your heart?"

Behind him, Kol spoke up from his seat on the ottoman beside the mirror. "Again with the dagger threats? Don't you have any other tricks?"

Klaus turned around, his lips curling into a sneer. "Oh, go back to staring at yourself." He said, already turning back to face Rebekah, dismissing the younger Mikaelson.

Kol's eyes narrowed on Klaus' back. "And who are you, my father?"

Klaus' shoulders tensed, his eye twitching. He turned around again, stepping closer to Kol in his building frustration. "No, Kol. But you're in my house."

Kol stood up, moving into his brother's space, challenging him. "Then perhaps we should go outside."

A tense silence hovered in the air, thick with hostility. Klaus refused to break from Kol's gaze. From the adjourning room, footsteps approached, heels clicking across the wood.

"Enough." Their mother ordered, her gaze stern and unquestionable, flickering to all her children before finally settling on Klaus. "Niklaus, come."

The most shit-eating grin sprung onto Kol's face, and it took all of Klaus' willpower not to punch him into next week. Or rip out his spleen. Maybe his intestines.

Glaring dangerously, Klaus shoved him to the side, following his mother out the room. "Rebekah wasn't even out of her box a day and she tried to ruin my life." He growled as they came to a stop further away. "What happened to peace, acceptance; family?"

"You put daggers in their hearts. You want them to go down on their knees and kiss your feet for reuniting them?" His mother rightfully pointed out.

Klaus avoided her gaze, failing to not look petulant. "So it's a crime to want our family to be as it were?"

His mother sighed. "You need to give it time, Niklaus." She said, drawing closer, her smile reassuring. "I've had a thousand years on the other side to be angry and to heal. I'm here to make sure this family does the same."

Klaus frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I just don't understand. I killed you and still you forgive me."

Rebekah had sided with the Salvatores when she learned of the truth, plotting to kill him. Elijah, Kol and Finn had united against him, getting in a few good punches and kicks before their mother had finally arrived. They were his family, and not once did they consider how their mother had betrayed him, only how he had betrayed her. Betrayed them. As if he had killed her without purpose, a random act of evil by their monstrous bastard of a brother.

Because that was what he was to them. A monster.

Why didn't his mother believe the same? He had murdered her. Surely… surely that invited at least some outrage? Hatred? Disgust? But his mother just smiled, her entire demeanour warm and understanding.

"It's been my dream for a thousand years that this family could be as one. Forgiveness is not a chore. It's a gift." She declared.

Klaus swallowed, overwhelmed by her acceptance, unable to meet her forgiving gaze. He didn't want to believe it...didn't want to hope. But his mother's reassuring smile appeared sincere. Was it truly possible she wasn't lying? That she meant every word? Klaus was unsure. But then wasn't it a mother's duty to love unconditionally?

His mother leaned closer, her tone turning teasing. "Now, who are you bringing to the ball tomorrow evening?" She asked, distracting him.

Klaus scoffed, trying not to think about golden hair and fierce eyes. "Don't be ridiculous." He denied. "You're lucky I'm even going."

"Well, I wish you would reconsider." She mused, lips quirking at the sides. "It's going to be a magical evening." His mother smiled, wide and warm, just as she lifted her hand and rested it against his cheek. Klaus closed his eyes, disguising it as a long, lazy blink as he leaned into her touch, suddenly remembering how much he had missed it. "Remember what I said, Niklaus. Give them time."

Her hand fell away, and Klaus watched her leave the room, his chest a little lighter, his mind calmer. He would remain vigilant. But he would also take a leap of faith - his mother wanted a second chance and he would give her one. It wasn't because he didn't want to believe she hated him, like Mikael had. It wasn't.

His mind drifted, thinking of light and beauty, the smell of a sweet-scented perfume and wildflower shampoo.

Klaus turned and left, ignoring the sound of his siblings resuming their snarky banter without him. He needed to make some inquiries, quickly. Klaus pulled out his phone, running through his contacts.

How long would it take for a seamstress to adjust a dress?

"Esther's alive?!"

Sam winced, holding his phone away from his ear slightly as the woman on the other end of it shrieked through the line. As a werewolf, his hearing had always been sensitive, tuned into a range of hearing that neither vampires or humans could hope to pick up on, but as a hybrid his hearing had been completely heightened to a new level. It would take a while getting used to it. From the way he had seen Klaus' eye twitch over the last few weeks as construction on the mansion was finished, he'd guess he wasn't the only one struggling with the new sensitive hearing, Klaus experiencing it from the other end and having to get used to the werewolf attributes of being a hybrid.

Sam couldn't wait to see his reaction the first time he hears someone use a dog whistle. Now that could be something he could use for blackmail purposes.

"Yeah." Sam confirmed, a short huff of air, making sure his own disbelief was clear in his voice. "Though can you tone down the volume, babe? I think you just burst my eardrum." He dodged a servant, someone who had been employed to set up the decorations for the ball the next day, before carrying on walking through the long winding corridors of the Mikaelson home, phone held tightly to his ear.

"Sorry." Kiera apologised, sounding chastened. "But how in god's name is that woman still... well, kicking."

"She somehow brought herself back from the dead, turns out even the Other Side can't hold the bitch."

"Figures." Kiera commented dryly.

"Yeah." Sam agreed, raising his eyebrows even though Kiera couldn't see him. He turned round another corner, heading towards where the stairs would be. "She's says she's forgiven Nik for, you know, ripping her heart out, but I don't trust her."

"You shouldn't." Kiera warned, her tone turning more serious. "From what Klaus has told me about her in the past, she was very powerful. And although her motivations were always linked to protecting her family, she was never afraid of getting her hands dirty to achieve that. The vampire species as we know it is proof of that, as is the thousands of years Klaus spent with his werewolf side bound."

"Yes, well, try telling that to Nik." He retorted bitterly.

Kiera's surprise was evident in her voice. "He trusts her?"

"He's doing as he's told. Not sure that equates to trust but..." Sam sighed, raising a hand to the rail as he descended the stairs. "Kiera, you should see the way he acts in her presence. Like he's vying for her approval. It's alarming."

"She is his mother, Sam."

"Yeah, I know but-" Sam quickly glanced into the rooms on the ground floor as he walked past, swapping the phone to his other ear as he made sure no one was listening in. He growled, lowering his voice. "There's a reason why he tore her heart from her fucking chest. It's like he completely forgotten about why he was mad with her in the first place."

Kiera sighed on the other end. "You forget, he's a thousand years older than you. He's had a long time to bury that anger, to accept what happened and even feel guilty for what he did. He never told me he was the one that ended her life, but I figured it out from everything his siblings said about Mikael. The man was a monster, but he loved his wife in his own way."

"What's your point?" He asked, a deep frown forming on his face.

"I don't think Klaus meant to kill her - they were young vampires at the time. It being immediately after his werewolf was bound and then learning about what happened to his pack... he would have been unstable. He could have lost control."

Sam closed his eyes, recognising she had a point. "Maybe. I suppose if it was an accident it explains why she's playing the forgiveness card."

"For now, let her." Keira advised, her voice calm, which somehow made him calm. God, he loved her. "And don't push it with Klaus, he'll only lash out at you."

Agitated and stressed, Sam bristled slightly. "Know him that well, do you?"

The sound of Kiera's soft laughter carried over the line. "Green always was your colour."

"I'm not jealous." Sam ground out, striding on far more aggressively than before.

Klaus' history with his Keira had never bothered him before, not initially. When Klaus unlocked his werewolf side, suddenly Sam's wolf wasn't so lenient, not now it thought there was competition. A threat to his mate. He knew Klaus didn't look at her that way, but unfortunately the wolf refused to acknowledge that fact. Instincts were a pain in his arse.

"No, you're just possessive. All werewolves are. Explains a lot about Klaus actually, now I know more about your kind." She paused, waiting. Somehow she alway knew when to do that, when to wait for him to reign in his anger, to think with a level head and not just stubborn impulse. "Is there anything else you called me for? I'm afraid I need to get off, I have to get to the gallery opening I told you about last week. Which reminds me - Klaus borrowed some paintings from me, I believe he has them hanging in the estate in England. Renaissance era. I need them back."

Sam sighed again, nodding. "Right. I'll ask him." He walked through a living space, taking the exit down another corridor. "And there was one more thing - Esther was insistent on holding a Ball, to celebrate the reunion of their family."

"Why Samuel Price, are you inviting me as your plus one?" Keira teased, making him smile.

"Well, I haven't seen you in weeks." He said pointedly, pretending innocence. "And they'll be dancing, champagne..."

"Now I am intrigued."

Sam grinned, stopping outside a set of double doors. "I'll see you tomorrow night then?"

"We'll see." She allowed. Sam counted it as a victory. "Send my love to Klaus."

Sam made a noise of outrage. "And what about me?"

"I'm sure I can make it up to you tomorrow night." She promised, voice so low it bordered on sinful. And before Sam even open his mouth to form a response to that, Keira hung up the phone, the line going dead.

He swallowed, his cheeks a little flushed, pants a little too tight.

Fuck.

"Sam?" Klaus' voice drifted from behind the doors, obviously having noticed Sam's heartbeat. And how he hadn't moved in a few considerable minutes.

Sam cleared his throat, shaking himself. "Yeah, I'm here." He pushed the door open with his shoulder as he spoke, looking down at his phone as he entered.

"Who was that?" Klaus called from the centre of the room. Sam didn't look up, typing away on his phone while he regained his composure.

"Keira." He answered, managing to make sure his voice didn't waver. "She has a bone to pick with you, by the way."

"Oh?" Klaus asked curiously.

Sam hummed, shifting uncomfortably, refusing to look up and meet Klaus' inquisitive gaze less the hybrid see something in his expression. "Apparently you borrowed a few paintings from her collection decades ago and didn't give them back."

Klaus grumbled incoherently, some kind of material rustling in his hands. "Did she tell you she stole the paintings from me in the first place?"

"That's not how she tells it."

"Hmm. Fascinating." Klaus drawled.

Sam turned his phone off, slipping it into his back pocket. "Right, your weird ex-relationship with my mate aside, is there a reason you called me or-" Sam looked up, finally noticing the room's contents.

It was clear the room's usual purpose was just an extra space, seating near the windows for reading, a TV hanging on the wall, a desk in the corner. But now tall dressing mirrors had been wheeled in and shoved against the walls, along with two mannequins that stood in the centre. Several dress bags were sprawled across the couches and a woman was in the process of taking the dresses out and hanging them up on a mobile rail. Klaus was browsing through the ones already hung up, a concentrated furrow between his brows.

Sam blinked. "Ok, do you have some dress fetish I don't know about or...?"

Klaus glared at him over the rail. "I need you to grab Rebekah. She tried to kill Elena last night, just tell her she owes me if she refuses to come."

"So these aren't for her? Huh." Sam watched Klaus rake through the hangers, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Didn't know you were planning on wearing a dress to the Ball..." Sam gave a mocking bow, grinning. "...my lady."

Klaus snarled, grabbing a vase off the nearest table and throwing it at Sam. The hybrid dodged it, the ceramic shattering on impact with the wall, Sam laughing and running out of the room before Klaus could throw anything else.

Rebekah was in the kitchen when Sam finally found her.

It was newly fitted after all the renovations, full of polished marble tops and sharp, expensive appliances. The fridge itself spanned nearly an entire corner, no doubt already filled with blood bags to satisfy the family of vampires. Her and Kol were sat at a more casually set dining table, food spread out between them, taste-testing everything that they had perhaps missed out on while daggered in a box. Kol was overjoyed by his discovery of ice cream, forgoing a bowl and just eating it straight out of the container as he unboxed his new phone, several credit cards and IDs, courtesy of Elijah's contacts. Rebekah seemed quite disgruntled at being left at the mercy of her brother's inquisitive questions about the device, not too confident with the technology herself, but tolerating it since it was Kol, and, well, it was easy to bond over their shared time spent in a box for centuries. That, and their current anger towards their elder brother.

It didn't take long for them to notice him, hanging around in the doorway. When they did, Kol's back straightened, eyes narrowing on Sam. Rebekah didn't look anymore friendly.

"You lost, hybrid?" Kol greeted coldly.

Sam pulled his lips into a thin line at the double glare he received from the two originals. "Nik wants to see you, Rebekah."

The two siblings shared a glance.

"Since when does our brother let people call him Nik?" Rebekah asked, tone suspicious.

Sam grinned. "Oh, he doesn't. I just like to live dangerously."

There was a pause, the two Originals stunned to silence, before Kol laughed once, a sound of disbelief. "How are you not dead yet?"

Sam shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. "Death and I have been scandalously intimate for some time now."

Rebekah's eyebrow rose. "You're not afraid of what he'll do? You're a hybrid. He can compel you."

"Not if I drink vervain every morning."

Kol grinned wildly, looking like Christmas had come early. "I like this one." He declared, waving his spoon at Sam, before shoving it inside his mouth and eating the ice cream on the silver.

Rebekah huffed, rolling her eyes.

"So, Rebekah." Sam pushed off from the doorframe, walking towards them, his attention on the female Original. "Coming?" He jerked his head in the direction of the door.

Rebekah smiled sharply at him. "Thanks, but I'm not a lapdog. Tell Nik I'm done following his orders." She opened a magazine she had discarded on the table, pretending to read it. Sam wasn't fooled.

"He said you would say that." Sam mused, plucking the magazine out of her grip and throwing it over his shoulder. He continued talking before she could protest. "He also said that you tried to kill Elena last night and you owe him for such a traumatic experience." Sam placed a hand on his heart, voice sarcastic. "He's deeply heartbroken you know. He may never be the same again."

"I don't care about my brother's delicate sensibilities. He can go rot in Hell for all I care." She ground out.

Sam tilted his head in consideration. "Pretty sure he's already done that, but an A* for effort though."

Rebekah looked like she was seconds away from snapping his neck. Kol, however, seemed delighted.

"Oh, I like this one a lot, sister."

Predictably, Rebekah ignored him.

"You have five seconds before I rip out your heart, hybrid." She threatened, grinding out the words.

Sam didn't back down, unafraid, steadily holding her gaze.

"You do that and Nik will be even more pissed with you." He pointed out, expression morphing into a mischievous smile. "That, and you won't ever find out why he asked you for help. Mere hours after you tried to kill his precious doppelgänger - a feat that should have left you on the other end of his temper for at least a few more days, no?"

Rebekah's eyes narrowed, her arms crossed over her chest. "I'm not falling for that."

"Well, I am." Kol declared shamelessly, eyes on Sam. "What has made our dear brother so desperate to seek Bekah's aid?"

Sam shrugged. "Not sure. I was too busy laughing at his face." Both Kol and Rebekah gave him astonished looks. "Don't look at me like that. You would too if you saw him browsing through ball gowns with such deep concentration."

There were a few beats of silence. Then:

"Colour me intrigued." Kol declared, his grin wider than humanly possible, leaning forward with childish eagerness. "Did he ask for me? I'd gladly take Rebekah's place. What do you say, sister?"

"Bugger off, Kol." Rebekah quickly got to her feet, the chair scraping across the floor in her haste, Sam's expression smug. Despite never meeting the two siblings, it seemed he had judged them well - just like him, they'd jump at the chance to annoy the living daylights out of their brother. "He asked for my assistance, not yours. Right, hybrid?"

"It's Sam." The hybrid corrected with a frown, before turning his gaze back to Kol. "But yes, unfortunately if you turn up as well he may rip out my spleen. Or yours. He's in a mood."

Kol sighed, his face falling in disappointment. "Such a shame. All my blackmail against him is over a century old."

"Well, I could send you pictures." Sam pointed to Kol's phone, forgotten on the table. "You can take photographs with those. If you give me your number I can send you them."

Kol picked the device up, his interest suddenly returning. "With this thing? But it's so small. Where does the camera fit?" He lifted the phone this way and that, examining it in wonder, as if he expected to find an 1800s Kodak somehow magically hidden in the machine.

"On the back." Sam pointed to the lens. "You see the circular black thing? That's the camera."

Kol's eyes were comically wide. "How fascinating. Humans truly are inventive aren't they?"

Sam chuckled. "If you think that's a marvel wait till you hear how they walked on the moon."

"You're kidding." Rebekah deadpanned. Sam had the gall to look offended.

"I'm not. You can find a video of the landing on the internet. Happened in the 1960s."

"Beks mentioned this internet. How do I access it?" Kol asked, gesturing to his phone, his eyes solely fixed on Sam, who was certainly a more patient teacher than Rebekah.

Sam slipped into the chair Rebekah had vacated, taking the phone from Kol's hand. "Well, phones are turning into mini computes now. They have everything on there. The internet is that little icon there, see? Did Rebekah show you where the music is?"

"What, no! This thing can play music? Like a phonograph?"

"Er, yeah." Sam began, uncertainly. "It's this icon here, you can download whatever you like..." Sam continued on, explaining the various uses of the device patiently, pointing to the icons on the screen. Rebekah lasted five minutes before snapping, tired of waiting for Sam, the hybrid's and Kol's laughter grating her nerves.

"Alright, time to finish whatever weird boy bonding this is." She grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt, yanking him to his feet. The hybrid released a yelp of surprise, taken off guard by the old vampire's strength. "Where's Nik?"

"No need to be rough." Sam muttered, rubbing his neck. "I was going to show you."

"And you'll send me pictures, right hybrid?" Kol confirmed, leaning back in his chair, balancing it on one leg as he lifted his feet and dropped them to rest on the table. The ice cream container was in his hands again, the Original licking the spoon.

"If I get out alive." Sam agreed, sending Kol a wink.

Kol guffawed, his laughter following them all the way out of the kitchen.

Klaus rubbed his chin, deep in thought as he stared at the landscape outside the window, employees from some event planner organisation his mother had hired decorating the grounds. Humans were halfway up ladders trimming the hedges and hanging up lights; others moving like ants in and out of the gardens and surrounding lawns, carrying in extravagant flower arrangements and placing them precisely where they were needed. No doubt the ballroom and downstairs rooms would receive the same treatment shortly.

There was a knock at the door, and Klaus called out to whoever was outside to come in. They complied, and Klaus turned as the door opened, jolting into movement when his hybrids appeared, carrying boxes full of materials and accessories. He directed them to place the boxes down on the tables in the far corner in almost a daze, mind too preoccupied with his own thoughts. His body was itching to move, to do something, though he had no idea what, restless and unsettled. Agitated, he snapped far more harshly than usual at the hybrids, and they scattered like frightened rabbits, escaping his presence as soon as the boxes were set down, less they test his patience further.

Klaus Mikaelson - known as The Hybrid; The Beast; The Great Evil - was nervous.

He hadn't admitted it to himself yet, of course. Probably never would. The fact was, ever since his mother had made her declaration of forgiveness, sparking that slither of hope in his chest, he felt... lighter. Everything he had ever wanted - finally it was within his grasp. Mikael was dead, his curse was broken, his family were reunited - they were all things he had hoped for as long as he could remember, but never dared believe actually would. The feeling of relief and freedom and (dare he say it) happiness that followed in the aftermath of all those dreams made reality was intoxicating. He wanted to chase that that feeling for as long as he could. And thus, an idea formed.

He intended to invite Caroline Forbes to the Ball.

The young baby vampire had intrigued him the night she was bitten. Her sharp tongue, her defiance, her beauty and light. She was fascinating, fascinating in a way that he had rarely seen throughout the centuries. He hadn't met anyone like her since...well, since Kiera, and they had met over eight hundred years ago. But even so, that comparison wasn't quite right either, because somehow, Caroline was…more.

So much more.

Klaus didn't understand it. However, what he did know was he needed to talk to her again. Needed to get to know her. He felt drawn to her, partly out of curiosity, but also because of something else he couldn't identify.

(His wolf's emotions were very hard to decipher, partly because he refused to acknowledge that the wolf was involved in his decision at all).

Of course, he couldn't just send out an invitation. Although the bracelet he had given her was as much an apology as it was a birthday gift, he was not so naive to believe all was forgiven. He needed to convince her to come, capture her attention as she had his. And since the Ball was quite short notice, no doubt every place in town busy with shoppers looking for attire for his mother's magical night, he knew what he needed to do - find a dress for Caroline himself. It was the perfect gift to accompany the invitation, and hopefully, the addition of a note written by him on the back of the invite itself would also add a personal touch. No doubt the dress would complement the bracelet beautifully too. It would have been what he would have done if he was courting someone, back in a time where you had to win a woman's hand, not stumble over it through sheer luck (how the Lockwood boy had earned her affections, Klaus was completely baffled-).

The seamstress grabbed his attention, asking about how much he intended to spend on materials and adjustments. Klaus waved her away, shortly ordering her not to worry about it. She nodded, the compulsion making her compliant while he glanced around the room, eyes raking over the rails of dresses, sampled materials and accessories, shoes sitting half unpacked in tissue paper to the sides.

Perhaps he was slightly...overthinking it. He wasn't courting her anyway. This was simply an exploration of his curiosity, nothing more.

Still.

Caroline deserved more than a childish charm bracelet.

Before Klaus could war with his internal thoughts more, seething at the thought of Tyler, the double doors swung open, and he turned at the commotion, just in time to see his sister sweep in with her chin held high. She stopped almost immediately in her tracks, taking in the outlandish scene.

"Ah, Rebekah." Klaus greeted, pulling away from the seamstress. "I see Sam found you." His eyes darted to the hybrid. "You were gone a long time."

Sam shrugged, walking over and moving empty boxes and tissue paper off the nearest sofa, before falling back on it, bouncing on the lush cushions. "I met your brother."

"Elijah?"

"No, the fun one."

Klaus scowled, turning to Rebekah, his gaze accusatory. "You introduced him to Kol? Really, Rebekah?"

"I wasn't aware certain hybrids weren't allowed near us. And I didn't introduce him. He introduced himself." She sent Sam a scowl, who grinned back at her shamelessly. Rebekah huffed in annoyance, returning her gaze back to Klaus and gesturing to the literal boutique that had been set up in the room. "Now, what the bloody hell is going on?!"

Klaus didn't blink, used to her temper. "I need you to help me pick out a dress."

"Why? Are you planning to wear one to mother's ball?"

"I already asked him that." Sam interrupted, holding up a hand. Klaus sent him a withering glare.

"No. I'm not." He snarled, answering them.

"Then why the need for a dress? It's certainly not for me." Rebekah eyed him, cautious, as if expecting a trap. "Unless this is some weird form of new punishment where you buy me things. And besides, you know I've already bought mine."

Klaus mumbled something incoherent.

"What?" Rebekah asked, not catching what he said.

"It's a gift." Klaus repeated, louder. He avoided his sister's eyes, painfully aware of the faint blush that had spread across his cheeks and neck. "For someone." He added, as if that made it any clearer.

Rebekah gaped at him.

To the side, Sam hid his smile behind his hand, watching the train wreck as it unfolded.

"A gift. For someone." Rebekah repeated dumbly.

"Yes." Klaus confirmed.

"Mother asked earlier if you were bringing anyone to the Ball… You said no." Rebekah stated slowly, a question implied in her tone.

"...I did."

"And now?" She prompted.

Klaus licked his lips nervously. "...I may have changed my mind."

Rebekah blinked.

Then blinked again.

"Right." Rebekah seemed to gather herself, breathing in deeply. "And what, you thought I would help you, why?" She snapped, that temper returning in full force.

Klaus moved to answer, his own eyes flashing angrily, but he never got the chance, Sam interrupting whatever threat he had been about to utter.

"In exchange for tickets for a private flight to Paris and all its sights of the 21st century, you will generously help pick out a dress fit for a Queen." Sam leaned back, resting his arms on the back of the sofa. He never took his eyes off Rebekah, but the tone he used to address Klaus was sharp. "Right, Nik?"

Klaus scowled, annoyed by the authoritative tone Sam was taking with him, but when he saw Rebekah's expression, as if she was now considering the offer, he forced himself to bite his tongue. "Right." He ground out.

Rebekah eyed them both. "I get to buy whatever I want - free reign of those credit card things?"

"Absolutely no-" Klaus began, but Sam was already interrupting him.

"Whatever you want, Rebekah. There's even Nik's penthouse you can stay in and wreck on your way out."

Slowly, Rebekah's smile grew, her arms lowering from there defensive position crossed over her chest. "A penthouse, you say?"

Sam nodded, lips ticking up at the corners. "Comes fully equipped with a personal art studio." He teased, offering his hand out for her to seal the deal.

"Now wait a minute-" Klaus growled, but neither of them were listening.

"You've got yourself a deal, hybrid."

Rebekah bounded over, shaking Sam's hand happily, the conditions agreed. Klaus let his head fall into his hand, releasing aggrieved sigh.

"I swear, Rebekah, if you damage any of the paintings I have stored there-"

"Oh, lighten up, Nik." Rebekah said with a laugh, cutting off his snarl. "I'll go along with your creepy gift giving. Who's the girl? Have you got a picture?"

Klaus narrowed his eyes, tone defensive. "Why do you need to know?"

"Because I need to know what she looks like Nik. You'll have to match the dress to the girl. What if the colour doesn't match her complexion?" Rebekah pointed out, as if the fundamentals of style and make-up were obvious to the two boys in the room with her. "Bloody hell, you're lucky I'm here. Otherwise, whoever you're bringing to the ball would have looked like a Shakespearean tragedy." She rolled her eyes, moving towards the rails. "Well?" She prompted when not answer was forthcoming, Klaus remaining steadfast in his silence.

Sam smirked. "Yes, Nik. Who is this mystery girl who you made me scavenge a bracelet for?"

"He's already given her a bracelet?" Rebekah exclaimed, head whipping to Sam.

"I know. Scandalous, isn't it?" Sam waggled his eyebrows, his grin turning lecherous.

"Sam." Klaus growled, glaring daggers.

"Yes?" Sam answered innocently.

"Shut up."

Sam sighed. "Duly noted."

"Nik." Rebekah called, grabbing her brother's attention once more. "Her name?" She pushed.

Klaus clenched his jaw, looking out the window. He had hoped to keep his interest in Caroline unknown, well aware his siblings could not be trusted at the current moment. But from the look on Rebekah's face, Klaus knew she would refuse to help just to spite him. He couldn't give her another excuse.

So he opened his mouth, and breathed her name like a prayer.

"Caroline."

"Caroline?" Rebekah repeated, stunned. "That blonde bitc-" She stopped short under her brother's glare. "You know what, never mind. I guess I don't need a picture then." She turned back to the rail, browsing through the dresses.

"You know her?" Sam asked, curious.

"Unfortunately." Rebekah muttered. "I'll pick a few I think will suit her. How are you going to make sure it fits her though?" She asked, directing the question at Klaus over her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, Rebekah." His sister raised an eyebrow. Klaus sighed. "I may have… compelled her previous seamstress to tell me her measurements." A small smile twitched at the corner of his lips, his eyes on the floor. "Apparently she was Miss Mystic Falls."

Sam coughed. "Stalker."

Klaus glared at him.

Rebekah called the seamstress over, starting to hand dresses over. "Alright, this one… definitely not that one...maybe...uh, that's a travesty - where did you find these Nik?"

"I asked for everything they had left."

"In the Salon?" Sam questioned.

Klaus frowned at him. "No. In Mystic Falls."

Rebekah froze. She shook her head, before leaping back to life. "Of course you did." She muttered, barely audible, before moving to the next rail, starting to look through them, the hangers screeching each time a dress was moved along. "Yes...no, definitely not, no…oh, I like this one. Can I keep it?" She turned around, holding the sparkling beaded purple dress to her body.

"Just find a dress Rebekah. Keep the rest for all I care." Klaus growled, moving to pace the length of the room like a caged tiger, unnerved by the knowing look Sam was sending his way over the rim of his glass.

Rebekah huffed, pouting. "For someone who might get laid tonight because of what dress I choose, you're awfully rude."

Sam choked on the drink he had just lifted to his lips, half spluttering, half laughing. He opened his mouth, no doubt a teasing remark on the tip of his tongue, but Klaus flashed to stand in front of him, his expression deadly.

"Not. One. Word." Klaus ground out.

Sam raised his hands, biting back a grin.

Rebekah sighed, glaring at the two of them. "Quiet, both of you. I need to concentrate."

They waited while Rebekah browsed, Sam sat on the sofa, playing on his phone, while Klaus stood, every once in a while moving to pace the length of the room. Finally, after about half an hour, Rebekah declared she was finished, and ushered Klaus to inspect the five ball gowns she had narrowed the selection down to.

The first was very slim fitted, the material silky and reflective. The colour was also very bland, and Klaus was certain his sister had only chosen it to spite him, since he couldn't understand how that was supposed to suit Caroline at all.

The second was better, a gentle yellow embroidered with lace around the bodice, the skirt long and flowing. It was innocent and youthful, just like her, which made Klaus wonder if Rebekah was subtly aiming another jab at the baby vampire. The third and fourth, red and pink respectively, were beautiful, but the red seemed too dark, and although the pink one twinkled in the light as if adorned by stars - due to thousands of silver sequins - it wasn't her. The colour felt like Rebekah was stereotyping her again: cheerleader, popular, feminine. Caroline was more than that. She was strong and fierce, but also light.

Klaus stopped, staring at the fifth and final dress. It was a deep royal blue, the long skirt made up of numerous layers and shades, which would no doubt shimmer like a reflection on water when it was twirled. The bodice was adorned with an ornate pattern, silvery-grey in colour, jewels embroidered into the fabric and sparkling like starlight.

"This one?" Rebekah asked, snapping Klaus out of his reverie. She took the dress down for him from where it was hooked on the mirror.

"It's perfect." Klaus breathed.

Rebekah offered him the dress, and reverently, Klaus took it, first holding it out in front of him before pulling it closer to his body, viewing it from the side. From a certain angle, one could say it looked like he was wearing it.

Suddenly, the flash of a camera illuminated the room, the white light capturing the moment. Klaus stiffened, slowly turning his head. Sam sheepishly grinned from his position on the sofa, phone raised to take the picture.

Klaus handed the dress back to Rebekah, his movements deliberately unhurried, as if he was trying to stay in control. He raised a threatening finger at Sam.

"Delete that immediately."

For a second no one moved. Then Sam's fingers danced across the phone's screen, raising the device higher just as Klaus lunged for it. In one fluid motion, Sam had leaped over the back of the sofa, holding the phone out of Klaus' reach.

Sam's grin was triumphant in the face of Klaus' rage. "Too late. I already sent it to Kol."

"I am going to skin you." Klaus growled.

Klaus lunged, trying to grab him, but Sam dodged, spinning out of his reach. He sped out the room just as Klaus fell forward onto the sofa. The Original Hybrid snarled in frustration, before leaping to his feet, rushing after Sam, hot on his heels.

Rebekah threw her hands in the air, exasperated with them both. "No need to thank me, Nik!" She shouted after them.

The room fell silent when Rebekah left in a fit. Laid out on the table, the sequins of the dress danced in the sunlight.

Caroline was loading the dishwasher when she heard the knock on the door.

Knowing her mom wasn't expecting any deliveries, and Elena had said they'd meet at the Grill, not here, Caroline had no idea who it could be. Tentatively, she stepped into the hallway, frowning when she saw no one standing through the glass of the front door.

In a few strides, she had walked over, unlocking it and pulling the door wide open. She leaned out the threshold, looking left and right for any signs of the mystery knocker. As she did so, her foot kicked something on the floor. Startled, she leaned back, staring down.

There, sitting innocently on her porch, was a large dark box, sealed with an extravagant white bow. Tucked underneath the ribbon was an envelope, her name written in elegant calligraphy. Caroline's mouth opened slightly in surprise, her eyes flicking back up, scanning the street for possible suspects. The only visible person was Mrs Danvers who lived two doors down, her frail form walking at a snail's pace as she leaned on her walker across the road. She certainly hadn't left the box and made it all the way down the street in such a short span of time. So, who had?

Definitely weird.

Narrowing her eyes, Caroline leaned down, picking up the box. The recent murders in Mystic Falls rang through her thoughts loudly, along with the reminder that the entire Original family was now in residence. She shook the box, lifting it closer to her ear so she could listen, even if the movement was awkward due to its size. Nope. No ticking sounds. Thankfully not a bomb then. She frowned, debating what to do. In the end, her wonder and curiosity won out.

After closing the door with one last suspicious glance at the street, Caroline carried the box to her room, dropping it down on the bed. She picked the envelope up from where it was tucked underneath the ribbon, running her fingers over the letters of her name. So what if her name was written beautifully? It was just a font.

She turned it over, raising her eyebrows in surprise because it had a seal. A wax seal. Who had sent this? The Queen of England? Intrigue spiked, Caroline tore open the envelope, revealing the invite inside.

Please join the

Mikaelson Family

This Evening At Seven O'Clock

For dancing, cocktails & celebration.

Who were the Mikaelsons? Expression scrunched up in confusion, Caroline flipped the invite over, hoping for more information. Her face slackened, momentarily stunned, at what she read.

Save me a dance,

Fondly, Klaus

Caroline stared, denying the way her heart fluttered slightly. She scoffed, throwing the invite onto her bed. "Seriously?" She exclaimed, incensed by his sheer… his sheer audacity. Like, presumptuous much? How did he know she would even go?

Her eyes drifted to the box, biting her lip. She shouldn't look. He had bought her diamonds last time. Literal diamonds. She'd gone to get them appraised, hoping to find the sparkling jewels were cheap fakes so she could throw it back in his face. They weren't. With the size of that box, she didn't dare guess what could be in there.

…A peek wouldn't hurt, would it?

Carefully, Caroline pushed the ribbon aside, lifting the lid off the box. Inside was the most gorgeous dress she had ever seen, neatly folded to fit the box without creasing the fabric. She released a small breath of surprise, eyes wide as she stared down at the graceful shades of blue and shining jewelled sequins. Absently, she wondered if it would fit her, how she would look in it.

Shaking her head of blonde curls, she quickly slammed the lid back on the box. No. She was not going to a stupid Ball and she was certainly not encouraging whatever Cinderella fetish thing he had by wearing this beautiful, absolutely divine dress that had definitely cost more than her mom earned in a year, let alone a month-

Hours later, she ended up going to the Ball. And wearing the dress.

(It fit perfectly. She tried not to think about how he knew her measurements, the creep).

"Why did I have to wear a bow tie again? I hate bow ties." Sam moaned, pulling on said bow tie for what was probably the tenth time. Klaus had stopped straightening it for him an hour ago.

"It's called a tux, Sam. That is what you wear to an event like this." Klaus drawled, sipping his champagne.

The Ball had officially begun. They stood around a high table in one of the receiving rooms that connected to the ballroom, hundreds of guests already mingling around them. The sound of chatter and laughter echoed around the space, building to a pleasant hum. Even more guests were still arriving, a new one or two passing through every now and then.

"Yes, well, not all of us grew up fed off silver spoons." Sam sniped bitterly.

Klaus frowned, petulant. "I grew up in a hut. We didn't even own metal cutlery. Everything was carved."

"Right." Sam scoffed as he pulled out his phone from his trouser pocket. "I forgot you were a fossil."

Klaus glanced his way, sending him a glare. He eyed him as the hybrid clicked his phone on, scrolling through his messages. "Did you deliver it?"

"Deliver what?" Klaus sent him a pointed glance when Sam looked up. "Oh, you mean that." Sam nodded, realisation dawning. His eyes returned to his phone screen. "Yeah, dropped it on her doorstep, left before she saw me, just like you said."

"Good." Klaus paused, eyes flicking to Sam's phone again. "Put that away." He ordered.

Sam frowned at him. "Why?"

"It's discourteous. This is a social event."

"Look at you and your big words." Sam teased, eyes still on his phone.

"Sam." Klaus warned.

"Keira texted me, alright? She just arrived." Sam quickly typed out a message before slipping the device back in his pocket, craning his neck around the heads of guests that hovered around them, clearly looking for her. "Where did all these people come from? Did you invite the entire town?"

Klaus shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised. Mother does love to socialise." He drawled, sipping his drink.

"Either that or she knows how to plan a massacre." Sam deadpanned. Klaus sent him a withering glare. Sam blinked. "What? I'm just saying – I don't trust her. You shouldn't either."

"I never said I did." Klaus ground out, eyes flashing dangerously, making Sam recoil slightly.

"Nik-"

"Ah, here she comes now." Klaus declared before Sam could continue, nodding in Keira's direction. Sam turned his head, catching the sight of her figure amongst the crowd.

She was a vision.

Her black high heels clicked across the floor as she strode towards them, a sway to her hips. One smooth leg appeared with each step from beneath the fabric of her slitted dress. Intricately designed tattoos - appearing from the end of her spine all the way to the start of her neck – were visible through the open back cut, swirling together in elegant patterns. She'd dyed her hair platinum blonde to compliment her smooth white dress, instead of the usual electric blue Sam was used to, the roots still their natural dark shade to match her eyebrows. It created a fade in colour from black to blonde that was most striking, all contained in her trademark pixie undercut hairstyle. Overall, she looked like a fierce Greek goddess, golden-brown skin and warrior-like beauty stunning Sam into silence.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Sam breathed, the question directed at Klaus. The Original Hybrid didn't answer. "Klaus?" Sam turned his head, confused by his friend's silence - but also suspicious. The wolf inside Sam bristled at the thought that Klaus was as captivated as he was, eyes eating up his girlfriend's body in a lustful way. Sam knew Klaus wouldn't be the only one guilty of an inappropriate gaze - the entire room had hushed slightly at Keira's arrival, men eying her hungrily while women looked on in envy, whispering about her as the female vampire passed. It was enough to send his wolf wild, demanding he make a claim, that he show everyone that she was his, and his alone.

But Klaus wasn't looking at Kiera.

He wasn't even looking in her direction.

His face had slackened, stunned to stillness, focused on something behind them. Sam's frown deepened, turning fully around so he could follow Klaus' gaze. There, stood in the open archway, looking almost lost in her uncertainty of where to go and clearly nervous amongst the throng of people, was a blonde girl. Vampire, if Sam was to guess, her heart rate slower than the rest of the mingling guests. She looked like she was nearly out of high school, her features youthful and bright with light. There was a soft beauty about her, and wearing such a radiant gown, the jewels shimmering in the light of the chandeliers, Sam could see how she had caught Klaus' eye.

The way he was looking at her though? Sam couldn't explain that. In fact, Sam was pretty sure he had never seen Klaus look at anyone like that. He could identify the awe in Klaus' eyes, shock too, but there was also tenderness, and an expression that Sam couldn't even begin to analyse. As if for Klaus, the ground beneath his feet had fallen away, and the heavens had opened up, he and the girl he couldn't take his eyes off the only things left in the void.

Slowly, a wide smile began to crawl across Sam's face, his eyes flickering between Klaus and the girl. So, this was Caroline.

Interesting.

Sam sipped his champagne, hiding his smirk. He turned back around, waiting for Keira as she drew closer. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam noticed Klaus absent-mindedly put down his drink on the table, stepping away, clearly intending to greet Caroline. It took all his will power not to utter a teasing good luck. Luckily, Keira's arrival was enough to leave him speechless all over again.

"You look…" He swallowed, eyes trailing down her body. "You look stunning." Sam said as he stepped forward, snaking an arm round her waist, pulling her close.

"Oh?" She asked, faking coyness, cocking her head as she looked up at him.

"Yes." Sam declared, leaning down to kiss her. When he pulled away, Keira was burned by the heat in his gaze. "My beautiful mate."

Keira smiled, linking her hands around his neck, their noses brushing, eyes connected as deeply as their souls. "You're not so bad yourself, Sam Price."

They both grinned at each other, before Keira pulled back, glancing over Sam's shoulder. She frowned, searching the crowd for a familiar face. "Didn't I see Klaus with you a minute ago?" She asked, her gaze turning suspicious. "Don't tell me you threatened his manhood, Sam. I told you, our relationship was never serious. And it was centuries ago."

Sam chuckled, still in a state of disbelief. "Trust me, I know."

Keira raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded his head in Klaus' direction. "I'd say his head has been turned, don't you?"

They watched as Klaus spoke with Caroline, the baby vampire rolling her eyes and brushing him off, striding past him with purpose. Klaus wasn't deterred, his gaze following her as she swept through the crowd, that same look on his face.

Sam looked down at Keira to see her reaction, observing the way her own eyes widened slightly with shock, before they narrowed, her expression forced into a blank slate. She turned to him, eyes sparking with determined fire.

"Tell me everything. Immediately." She demanded.

Sam laughed and pulled her in so he could kiss her again.

"Welcome. Thank you for joining us."

Esther walked down the stairs as Elijah spoke, surveying the crowd, the twinkling lights adorning the banister complimenting her own elegance. Her youngest son, Kol, turned to greet her as she came to a standstill, and she offered him a small smile.

"You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, its tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance." Elijah continued, gesturing towards her and she acknowledged him, bowing her head slightly with a smile before turning her gaze back to the crowd. Her eyes found Miss Gilbert easily, and as Elijah spoke, Ester locked her gaze with the young girl's, an unspoken communication occurring between them. She needed the doppelgänger if she was going to fulfil her goal, needed her trust. Tonight would need a subtle touch to achieve it.

"Tonight's pick is a centuries-old waltz, so if all of you could find yourselves a partner. Please join us in the ballroom."

The room erupted into chatter and excitement, the guests eagerly beginning to move to find a partner. Her children began to descend the stairs, mostly likely with the same goal, and Esther turned, intending to return upstairs and wait for the doppelgänger.

She barely made it up one step before she stopped dead in her tracks.

There, standing silently among the guests towards the back, was a man she had thought to be lost forever. His grey eyes found her wide orbs as he sipped the last of his champagne, handing the empty glass to a passing waiter once he was finished. Inside her head, Esther began to deny what she was seeing, trying to rationally come to a conclusion for such an illusion. Perhaps the man just looked like him – but no, it couldn't be, he looked identical. Perhaps he was a ghost, some kind of phantom – but the guests clearly saw him too, making room for him as they glided past, one guest even accidentally bumping into him. The man brushed aside the apology that followed, too busy keeping his eyes on her.

She could only watch in shock as he moved, striding towards the foot of the staircase with that careful confidence she used to adore so much. His eyes never left hers, and Esther found she could not break away from his gaze even if she wanted to. Before she could even gather her wits, he had reached the staircase and placed one foot on the first step, holding out a hand for her to take. He was inviting her to dance.

Absently, she noticed her children - except for Klaus, he was distracted by a blonde girl, thank the ancestors - had seen what was occurring, as had those frightfully problematic Salvatore brothers who hung on the doppelgänger's arms. She hesitated too long, more guests witnessing the scene he was causing. If she declined, ignored him and turned around, it would be awfully rude. Especially since Elijah had just spouted that utter nonsense about the dance being a tradition. But if she did accept the offer, it would raise far more questions from her children, questions she would rather not answer. From the look on her once-lover's face, the cunning shine in his eyes, it was clear he had deliberately planned it that way.

Swallowing tightly, Esther gripped the banister and began to descend the stairs, her heart beating wildly. Once she reached the bottom, she paused slightly, before placing her hand in his. He smirked – dear god, how much Niklaus resembled him - lifting her hand gently and placing a gentle kiss upon her knuckles, eyes locked with hers. She tried to ignore the shivers that travelled up her spine.

Feeling eyes on her in every direction, she allowed him to link her arm in the crook of his elbow and lead her to the ballroom. She could hear her erratic heartbeat in her ears, pounding against her skull. Questions shot through her mind at a rapid-fire pace, all unanswered, her thoughts dissolving into chaos. Despite her panic and disbelief, one thought rang true, the warmth of his arm undeniable in her grip.

Lycaon was alive.