1234, The Black Forest, Germany
The fire crackled and spat, dancing along the logs. Klaus rubbed his hands together, drawing closer to the fire's warmth. He looked across the flames to where Kol was laid on the cave floor, wrapped in Klaus' dried overcoat, sweat beading across his brow and still unconscious. Dark red stains dotted the fabric visible under the overcoat, worse around the bite marks. He had cleaned Kol's wounds hours ago, doing the best he could with torn parts of his tunic and rainwater, but werewolf venom was potent in such a large dose and his actions did little in bringing comfort to Kol. Swallowing, Klaus turned his head, looking out towards the cave entrance.
The Black Wolf was sat with his back to him, ears twitching as he listened intently for any sign of danger, standing guard. Rain still poured down relentlessly just outside, but the wolf's fur was finally beginning to dry, shielded as he was by the cave ceiling. The black pelt appeared warmer in the light of the fire, fading to grey around his muzzle, the only indication of his age. He seemed calmer, gentler even, just like the night all those years ago when Klaus was a young boy and this great big wolf let him ride him through the woods.
There was no doubt in his mind that the creature before him was the same one he had met as a little boy - the wolf that he soon discovered had been his father all along. The familiarity was undeniable, despite being impossible. Frankly, Klaus was still in shock, which was probably half of the reason he had followed the wolf without question, letting him lead them to this very cave despite his history with trust issues. He'd spent most of the trek observing the wolf, watching how his father acted. Within minutes he had concluded something he had already suspected; that his father wasn't like the other wolves.
The obvious distinction was the Black Wolf's appearance – he seemed almost three times the size of a normal werewolf, as large as any horse, a fact he had noted before. However, his behaviour was so startlingly different Klaus couldn't understand how he hadn't seen it. There was a human intelligence behind his eyes and movements, a certain sense of cunning even, as if the wolf had not taken over his mind or primal instincts had overridden every rational thought. His father - the man, not the beast - was in perfect control, even though the eyes of a wolf stared back at him.
And although that fact should surprise him, Klaus was far more intrigued by how his father was still alive. Klaus still remembered walking into the werewolf village vividly, seeing the bodies; the women, the children. The stench of blood and death, the terrible carnage left behind by Mikael's wrath. Klaus had found a man impaled on a stake in the centre of the settlement, unlike the other bodies which had been discarded mindlessly, forgotten and dropped to the ground. He had never seen his father in human form, only ever meeting the wolf, and when he had seen those vacant eyes that could have been like his own, depending on how the light hit them, Klaus had assumed the worst. His father was dead.
It was clear Mikael was sending a message, declaring to the world what would happen to those who dared touch his wife, but also revenge against Klaus for daring to be born in the first place.
But clearly Klaus had been mistaken, judging by the wolf that sat not ten feet away. He had never seen his father's human form, which explained the misidentification, but that didn't explain how Lycaon was still alive, over two hundred years later. The worst thing was, Klaus couldn't even ask him because he didn't speak bloody werewolf.
At least, not anymore.
Klaus felt his chest twinge painfully, the absence of his wolf more inescapable than ever. A lone howl echoed through the night, piercing the silence. Klaus watched as his father tensed, rising slightly, those ears alert and twitching in the direction of the sound. After a few seconds the large wolf relaxed, seemingly deciding the werewolf was too far away to be a threat. Klaus scoffed quietly. He remembered the way the Black Wolf had torn those werewolves apart - he doubted any of them were a threat, regardless of how far away they were.
Kol suddenly began to mumble, brows furrowing in pain and discomfort. Klaus quickly stood, moving round the fire to kneel beside his brother, faintly aware of the wolf's head tilting slightly in Kol's direction. He placed a hand on his younger brother's forehead, feeling the furnace-like heat radiating off Kol's skin. Elijah had developed a fever when he was bitten, weakened by hallucinations and insatiable bloodlust. No witch had been able to help him, resulting in a few beheadings on Klaus' part. They had feared he would die – back then they were unsure if werewolf bites were as dangerous as white oak stakes and had avoided the wolves because of it. As soon as the fever broke though, Elijah recovered, much to their relief. With any luck, Kol would endure the same and would recover in a day or two.
A low rumble came from behind him, and Klaus turned, only to come face with the wolf. He froze. Despite his father not showing any inclination of aggression towards him, those eerie yellow eyes and deadly teeth, concealed behind his lips for now, were still too close for comfort. One quick movement and Klaus knew the wolf could have his neck in a fatal hold, one which would fucking hurt to temporarily die from. Distantly, Klaus recalled how Mikael had wrapped his hands around his neck when he was eleven, enraged that Klaus had spent the morning collecting flowers (a 'girl's errand' according to Mikael) to use to make his paints instead of finishing his chores. The bruises had swelled, causing the simple act of talking to be painful even days afterward.
But his father wasn't Mikael, and the wolf didn't attack. His lupine eyes flickered down to Kol's unconscious form, and slowly, he lowered his head, curiously inspecting Kol's wounds with a twitch of his nose, sniffing out the venom. Klaus watched, uncertain about what to do. Another low rumble, almost a purr, vibrated through the wolf, his head rising to look at Klaus. It took a few moments for him to realise his father was probably asking him a question.
Klaus frowned. "I..I don't understand you."
The wolf didn't move for a few moments, clearly contemplating that statement, but then it was leaning forward, mouth opening as it neared Klaus' hand, looking like he was about to bite. Klaus flinched, yanking his hand out of reach. Their eyes met, and Klaus could have sworn he saw sadness there. The wolf's ears lowered, another rumble, gentler this time, following. His head lowered again, slower so Klaus wasn't startled, mouth moving towards the vampire's hand. He stopped when Klaus flinched again, waiting for permission. Klaus didn't understand what he was trying to do, but from the look in the wolf's eyes, and the lack of aggressive behaviour, he had realised his father wasn't trying to bite him, at least not in a way that caused harm. Unsure, he moved his hand closer to the wolf, silently giving him permission. To his surprise, his father didn't grab his hand, but the sleeve of his tunic, gently pulling Klaus' whole arm towards Kol. Confused, Klaus let the wolf tug him forward, dragging his wrist into position over Kol's mouth.
Finally, it clicked.
"You want me to give Kol my blood." Klaus realised. A pleased rumble answered him. Klaus shook his head, releasing a sigh. "It won't heal him. It doesn't work on werewolf bites." He explained, pulling his hand away.
The wolf seemed to grow agitated at his response, nudging him, even grabbing his sleeve again and dragging it over to Kol. Klaus snarled, anger replacing his fear, using his free hand to push the wolf's face away.
"Stop it! It won't work. Werewolf bites kill any normal vampire - we have to wait for the venom to pass through his body."
The wolf growled lightly, glaring at Klaus. The vampire in question glared back. When it became clear his father wasn't backing down, Klaus sighed, frustrated. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt? The blood would certainly strengthen Kol, perhaps help him heal quicker?
"Fine. I'll try it, only to show you it doesn't work." Klaus ground out. The wolf sat down, clearly waiting for Klaus to make good on his word.
Scowling at the wolf, Klaus leaned down, pulling Kol into his lap. He brought his wrist to his mouth, let his fangs drop, and bit down, tearing into his own skin. Before the wound could heal, he pushed the bleeding appendage against Kol's lips, feeling when his younger brother gained enough awareness to drink the blood he was being offered, if more sluggish than usual. His eyes didn't open, a clear indication of the severity of his state, but he did mumble incoherently, biting down weakly on Klaus' wrist, causing said vampire to wince.
After around a minute Klaus pulled his wrist away, fully aware he may be unable to feed for several more days, what with being in the middle of a forest, at least a day's ride from the nearest settlement. Klaus lowered Kol back to the floor, resettling the heavy overcoat over his brother's shoulders, trying to cover the bite on Kol's neck. And that was when he noticed it - the bite was healing.
It was slow at first, just the normal colour returning to the skin around the wound. Then the wound lost it's infected look, the black and green discolouration receding, before finally knitting itself back together, the pierced skin closing back up. Klaus blinked, shocked to stillness. His blood… had worked?
But how? When Rebekah had given her blood to Elijah, trying to heal him, it had done little to help him. It gave him a little strength back, but it hadn't… healed him. Not like this. Klaus brought a hand to his neck, suddenly recalling how the wolves had bitten him right there hours earlier, lethal teeth sinking into the juncture between his collarbone and neck. There wasn't even a trace of the wound, the skin perfectly smooth, except for where the blood from the non-existent wound had dried, flaking away. His bite had healed, so quickly he had forgotten it had been there in the first place.
Klaus looked down at his wrist, examining how a trail of blood dripped down his skin from where Kol had fed.
His blood was the cure. How?
Looking for answers, his gaze met his father's, whose lupine eyes shined knowingly. Somehow, the smugness in his expression was clear, despite said expression to be of the wolfish quality.
"You knew. How did you know?" Klaus asked.
The wolf didn't answer.
Slowly, the wolf stood and turned around, returning to the cave entrance to stand guard. Klaus stared, watching the werewolf walk away. His eyes drifted down to Kol, who mumbled in his sleep, rolling over so his back was to Klaus, all traces of sickness gone.
Thoughts running rampant, Klaus sat down on the other side of the fire, transfixed by the sight of his blood drying on his skin. Blood was everything to him. Blood was what made him a bastard, what gave him immortal life as a vampire. What linked him and his siblings together for eternity. But he never considered that perhaps his blood was something else entirely. Blood he inherited from his father.
Klaus looked up, gaze locked on the silhouette of the black wolf's form, sat not far away, the fur pelt illuminated by the firelight. In the distance, a werewolf howled, searching for them. His father lifted his mighty head, and answered in kind.
Far away, the werewolf trying to find them fell silent.
"Wake up Nik, you lazy ass."
Klaus jolted awake, woken abruptly from his slumber by a kick to his shin. He looked up, bracing for a fight, but relaxed when his eyes fell on Kol's smug face.
"Kol?"
His younger brother grinned. "Morning, sunshine."
Klaus scowled. Kol responded by throwing the overcoat he was carrying in Klaus' face.
"Thanks for the blanket, Nik. Though I think I got blood on it, just so you know."
Klaus floundered, tearing the coat from his face with a snarl. He opened his mouth to retort, but Kol had already turned his back on him, walking towards the cave's entrance, stretching his arms over his head. Beams of sunlight broke through the trees, cascading down outside. The smell of fresh dew was heavy in the air, remnants of the rainfall from the night before.
The night before.
Klaus scrambled to his feet, eyes scanning his surroundings for a furry outline. But the cave was empty, except for him and Kol, the fire having died long ago, the embers glowing softly. His father was gone. He had left him behind, without even saying goodbye.
He was alone.
"You alright, Nik?"
Klaus whipped his head to Kol, who had turned around with a frown on his face. Klaus swallowed, forcing his expression into somewhat neutrality, hiding his internal turmoil and quickly mounting despair.
"Fine." Klaus croaked, to his annoyance. He cleared his throat. "We better get moving. Elijah and Rebekah are most likely already waiting for us." He told Kol, leaning down to pick up his overcoat.
"Right. How long was I out?" Kol asked, basking in the sunlight. "As long as Elijah was last time?"
Elijah had been incacipated for five days when he was bitten, and didn't return to his full strength for another two days after that. Kol had healed in a matter of hours, thanks to his blood. From the ease of which he moved, Klaus doubted he was experiencing any after effects either.
"Something like that." Klaus answered vaguely. "Are you strong enough to travel?"
Kol shook his head, laughing slightly. "I feel great actually. Doesn't even feel like I had a run in with those wolves." Kol didn't see Klaus grimace. "Though, Elijah wasn't lying about how vivid the hallucinations were." Kol rolled his shoulders as he walked over to Klaus, popping the joint as he worked out the stiffness in his limbs. "Could have sworn I saw a werewolf sleeping beside you at some point."
Klaus froze.
Distantly, he recalled a comforting warmth at his back after he drifted off last night, something soft and thick curling protectively around his legs. Perhaps a tail.
Well, there went his reasoning it had all been a dream.
"What an amusing notion." Klaus commented. From the confused look Kol sent him, he knew his smile was a little too tight around the edges. He walked past Kol, over to the cave's entrance, standing on the edge of the ledge. He gestured to the ground below. "After you."
"Trying to keep an eye on me, are you?" Kol asked with a teasing grin as walked over. He laid a hand on his heart, exaggerating his surprise. "Nik, I didn't realise you cared!"
Klaus rolled his eyes. "Just get a move on. Or next time I'll throw you to the wolves." He threatened.
"You'll have to catch me first." Kol said with a smirk, shoving Klaus and almost causing him to fall face-first over the edge. Kol laughed wickedly as Klaus spread his arms out to maintain his balance, dodging out of the way and jumping down when Klaus lunged towards him with a snarl. He landed with ease on the forest floor far below and Klaus followed, glaring at the back of his brother's head.
"What are you, a child?" He growled out, stalking past.
Kol's echoing laughter was his only answer.
They walked in silence for the most part, limited to normal human speed due to their unfamiliarity with the area. Kol asked a few questions about the werewolves, unable to remember much about what happened after he was bitten. Klaus told him they were dealt with. When Kol pushed further, wondering how Klaus had fought off so many, he told him the werewolves were torn apart. Kol shut up after that, assuming Klaus was the one that killed them all. Klaus didn't correct him.
It was nearing midday, judging from the height of the sun, when Klaus became aware of something following them; of the feeling of eyes watching their every move. Kol seemed oblivious, ploughing through the trees and shrubbery loudly, swatting low branches out the way and tripping over logs with his clumsy feet, one of the few things that had stayed the same after he turned. Curses escaped his mouth every so often, grumbling incoherently, scaring every animal within a mile's distance away.
Klaus ignored him, too focused on scanning the trees behind them, the foreboding feeling building. Every so often he picked up a snap of twig, or the rustling of leaves made by something big passing by - sounds that Kol mistakenly disregarded as being caused by himself.
It was only when Kol's tunic got caught in some brambles, releasing a roar of frustration as he flailed around - trouser leg getting caught in some sticky weed as a result - that Klaus finally found the pair of yellow eyes staring at them from the shadows, large ears twitching at the noise Kol was making.
His father was following them.
He hadn't left, only retreated, probably once he noticed Kol waking. Left it up to Klaus to decide what to reveal to Kol, rather than take the choice away by staying in sight. Klaus swallowed.
"Serð mik!" Kol swore in their native tongue, hopping on one foot to get the plant stuck to his clothing and boots off of him. He snarled, bashing the creeping undergrowth away. "I am going to burn this forest to the ground and every bloody werewolf inside it!" Kol roared.
Klaus returned his gaze forward, determinedly not looking in the direction he knew the great wolf lurked. He strode past Kol, ignoring his younger brother's tantrum and efforts to destroy the plant life that dared offend him.
"Stop fooling around, Kol." Klaus reprimanded. "Elijah and Rebekah may need our aid." He growled, a new sense of haste to his stride. Kol spat at the ground, before following Klaus, acting as if he had survived some great battle.
A fair distance away, a deep rumble escaped the wolf's throat, chuckling softly.
It was six days before Klaus was able to escape his siblings presence. When he and Kol had finally reunited with Elijah and Rebekah at their latest home, a small castle next to the fjord, the sun was setting. They were relieved to learn both their brother and sister hadn't been bitten and had managed to escape the werewolves relatively unscathed, even if they had not. Elijah was thoughtful enough to have already compelled a few locals, offering them to Klaus and Kol as soon as they arrived, knowing they would be hungry. The two brothers devoured their meals quickly and carelessly as Rebekah helped Elijah load Finn's coffin into their carriage, along with their essential belongings. Without a full moon, the werewolves could be easily dealt with, but Elijah had learned the wolves were working with the witches and rumour had it that Mikael had been alerted of their location. They had to run.
Kol and Rebekah jumped in the carriage, driven by one of the few servants that had been left alive, while Elijah and Klaus mounted their horses, Elijah leading the way. Klaus trailed behind, covering their backs, eyes on the trees. Every so often the horses would spook, neighing in protest, nervously shifting on their feet. Elijah nearly lost control of his great black stallion, Nero, more than once, the normally fearless beast acting skittish and pulling against the reins that held him.
"Woah, woah. What is wrong with you boy?" Elijah mumbled, patting the stallion's neck while astride his saddle, trying to comfort it.
Klaus didn't dare look behind them, not risking the chance Elijah followed his gaze and noticed the yellow eyes watching them from a distance.
Their journey continued in much the same manner, Klaus catching glimpses of his father's werewolf form and trying to not draw attention to said werewolf's presence, often engaging in random conversation with his siblings in an effort to distract them.
Suffice to say, after day three, he was pretty sure his siblings believed he was plotting something nefarious, judging by the way Rebekah narrowed her eyes every time he came near. Kol had taken to loudly claiming the werewolves that had attacked them must have knocked him round the head. He didn't even threaten Kol for that comment, so distracted as he was, which only fuelled the fire. Even Elijah started sending him odd looks.
He noticed his father would disappear occasionally, sometimes for hours, once even for a whole day, always returning to follow from a distance. Klaus suspected he was leaving to hunt, just as they stopped travellers they met on the way, draining them dry to feed and hiding the bodies afterwards. Despite his reasoning, every time he noticed his father's absence he couldn't stop the unease that stirred inside him. Anxious that he would leave, or worse, was for some reason working with Mikael and instead of following Klaus to protect him, was in fact reporting to Mikael the entire time. Or perhaps wasn't his blood father at all; an impostor plotting his demise.
Paranoia and doubt was always the greatest enemy of the mind.
On the sixth day, Klaus lost sight of his father again, the wolf still absent even when night fell - the first occurrence, since he had only vanished during the day before. Klaus decided they should set up camp, instead of travelling through the night, claiming they needed rest - which was obviously a lie since they hadn't needed to sleep ever since their mother turned them into vampires, only ever doing so to starve off the boredom of an immortal life spent awake 24/7. However, although his siblings gave him suspicious looks, they didn't protest, Elijah still struggling with Nero and claiming the horse needed a full night of rest, rather than a few rushed hours.
Hours later, Klaus was still awake, having claimed first watch while his siblings slept in their bed rolls around the fire, the blankets used more for comfort rather than warmth. They had no doubt put a fair distance between them and Mikael, if he indeed had been on their tail, but Mikael wasn't the only enemy within the woods, bandits and mercenaries common in the area. They couldn't be killed, but having your neck slit in your sleep wasn't exactly a desired experience.
The dark encroached the land around him, inch by inch crawling closer to the fire as it weakened. Klaus grabbed another log off the floor, throwing it into the flames. They reared up, spitting and hissing in delight as they devoured the new meal. He scanned the trees as the glowing ash floated into the sky, freezing when he saw an outline of a man in the distance. Instinctively, his hand jumped to the pommel of his sheathed sword, even though he had no need for such a weapon.
Eyes stared at him from within the trees, but not the typical yellow kind. They were two discs of silver, the retina reflecting the moonlight, like how a flash from a camera or a beam from a headlight made an animal's eyes glow. Apart from that, he appeared human, the eyes the only hint of the powerful creature hidden beneath the human skin. Then the figure moved slightly, shadow obscuring his face once more, the reflective glow in his eyes vanishing, as if it had never happened. Throughout the entire process, the man never looked away from Klaus, keeping their gazes locked.
Not a word was spoken.
The man turned around, silently walking away, clearly expecting Klaus to follow. The vampire swallowed, rising to his feet and quickly moving towards Kol's sleeping form.
"Kol, wake up." He whispered.
Kol mumbled something, pulling his blanket tighter around him. "Hmm...sn't awake...go 'ay Nik…"
Klaus glanced back at the trees, movements anxious. "Kol. Get. Up." He ground out.
"...sleepin'..."
"Kol, get up and take watch. I need to collect more firewood."
Kol groaned loudly. "Don't need to stay warm. Forget the fire."
"Kol."
"Fine. I'm awake." Kol snarled, throwing the blanket off his torso. He rose to his feet, expression thunderous. "Happy now-" Kol stopped short.
Klaus was gone.
The moon hung low, reflecting off the river's surface and illuminating the crystal-clear waters. Klaus approached the shoreline cautiously, eyes fixed on the human silhouette who stood metres away, hands shoved inside his overcoat pockets for warmth.
Klaus swallowed.
"Who are you?" He asked, suspicion in his eyes. His voice cut through the silence like a knife, the only sound except for the water trickling down the streams that broke away from the river.
The figure half turned to face him, and Klaus finally caught sight of the man's facial features, so very like his own. "You really don't recognise me, little wolf?"
Little wolf.
The familiarity of that phrase didn't escape him. But Klaus didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to hope. His eyes raked down the man's body, looking for a dent in whatever glamour or phantom magic this was. Instead, he caught sight of faded ink etched into the man's skin, just peeking out from underneath his sleeve.
Moving on their own accord, Klaus felt his feet take a step forward, his hands reaching for the man's arm. He didn't resist, letting Klaus take it and roll up the sleeve. There he found a tattoo, an exact replica of the tattoo he had seen on every pack member Mikael had slaughtered all the years ago – three crescent moons, posited in the formation of a triangle.
The Sigil of the North East Atlantic Pack. The Night Howlers.
"It is you." Klaus breathed, taking a step back. "How are you… how are you even alive?" The vampire narrowed his eyes, expecting some trick or manipulation.
He wouldn't find any.
The man – his father - laughed, but it was a sad sound, his smile bitter. "I'm afraid that's a long story, son."
"I have all night." Klaus declared, a threatening note to his tone.
Lycaon considered his son, unnerving Klaus with his lack of fear. "So it seems." He agreed, humming. The werewolf turned his eyes back to the still waters. There was an ethereal feeling to the man, and Klaus was suddenly struck by the realisation he wasn't the only immortal being present. "What do you want to know?" His father asked. "Or perhaps, where do you want to start?"
Klaus narrowed his eyes. "How about why you left me with Mikael?"
"The night you broke the curse?"
"No. As a child."
Lycaon nodded, eyes travelling to the floor. "I didn't know you were mine, at first. Your mother… she didn't tell me." He began. "When I realised, I didn't confront her about it because I didn't believe it to be fair on you - to take you away from your mother, your siblings. They were your family as much I was, and with the delicate treaties between our peoples… you could only ever have one world or the other." His father explained, releasing a sorrowful sigh. He pulled the ends of his coat tighter around him, defending himself against the cold night air. "I watched you grow up. Watched you laugh and smile, and it lessened the loss a little. But then I learned about Mikael; about what he did to you."
Klaus tensed, surprised by the visceral hatred in Lycaon's voice. His eyes flicked up, just in time to see his father's eyes flash yellow, the wolf inside thrashing on the doors that caged him.
"I was enraged. I confronted your mother and demanded she hand you over to me."
Klaus felt his lips mould into a tight line. "She refused."
Lycaon scoffed. "She did more than that. When she refused, I threatened to declare war to take you back. In response, she dared me to do it. Threw our entire relationship in the dirt at our feet, all the love and trust, and threatened to tell Mikael I had raped her. To tell you the same." Klaus looked up when Lycaon fell quiet, watching as his father's fists clenched at his sides. "She said Mikael would kill you before I even got the chance to save you, if he ever found out. I hated her for that. Hated her for turning my own fears against me." His father laughed, but the sound was twisted and wrong, rotten deep inside. "I… I didn't know what to do."
Lycaon swallowed. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid the devil himself would hear his sins.
"So, in the end… I did nothing."
Klaus looked away, gritting his teeth. "Did you ever intend for me to find out?"
"I hoped." His father admitted. "When you were old enough to understand. I tried to confront you alone, but as you grew older your mother placed boundary spells and other charms to keep me out. Eventually I couldn't even get close to the village."
It made sense. Klaus remembered the days when he would sometimes catch a glimpse of yellow eyes watching him from the woods, or when leaves would rustle not far away, the perpetrator already gone. He also remembered how those sightings lessened as the years passed, reduced to nothing but memory.
"I waited. Knew one day, you would awaken your werewolf side, and Esther would no longer be able to deny who you were. That she would need me, if you were to control your instincts." Lycaon continued, breaking Klaus from his reverie. "I felt it when you died." The werewolf swallowed. "Our kind… once you come of age, you're initiated into the pack to link you with the members. But before that, werewolves are already linked to those they share blood with. I felt your fear as Mikael slaughtered your siblings. Felt your pain when he thrust his sword through your stomach. Imagine my surprise when I saw you alive."
His father paused, contemplating his next words.
"My pack was afraid of what you were. Afraid of me too - the night your brother died… I killed my own wolves to protect you. Sons and daughters of my trusted betas. The night you triggered the curse, they rose up against me. That was why I wasn't there, for when you turned."
Klaus frowned. "And why you barely got there in time when mother…"
When his mother bound his werewolf side.
"I'm sorry, Niklaus." His father apologised, eyes closed in pain. His hand rose, reaching out towards Klaus, but the vampire flinched away.
"Don't." Klaus warned, though it was closer to a plead. "You tried to stop her. That's more than anyone else did." He declared, voice cold and bitter. His anger rose, igniting in his chest, and suddenly he was turning to face his father, lips curling into a ferocious snarl. "I'm tired of your games, old man. How are you alive? I found your body – or at least, what I thought was you."
That terrible night still haunted his dreams, replaying against his eyelids every time he closed his eyes. The stench of blood and flesh. The bodies – so many bodies – strewn throughout the village. And not just the men, but the women and children too, those who hadn't even triggered the wolf curse yet. Their throats had been torn apart and their bodies ravaged to ribbons, none surviving Mikael's wrath. And there, in the centre of the settlement, was a werewolf impaled on a stake, one that looked nothing like the man before him, his blood still dripping down the wood even if his eyes stared blankly at the ground.
"I mourned you." Klaus growled. "And yet here you stand. Not a day older, I'd guess, even though centuries have passed."
Lycaon nodded, a solemn expression on his face, understanding his son's rage. "The werewolf you found was called Ansel." He patiently explained. "When I and your mother would…meet, it was under the guise that she was picking herbs and flowers only found on our territory. Ansel would pick the herbs for her, knowing the land well, while we…" His father trailed off, wincing slightly.
Klaus glared at him. "I don't need the details."
A small, sad smile touched the corners of Lycaon's cheeks. "Suffice to say, Mikael must have seen her with Ansel once and wrongly assumed he was your father. He was loyal, one of the few that refused to drive me away. He wouldn't have corrected Mikael of his mistake."
"That doesn't explain how you are still alive." Klaus pointed out, his gaze still distrustful.
"I don't know how." Lycaon answered bluntly. Klaus sent him a disbelieving glare. His father didn't back down. "I don't, Niklaus. It is a mystery I have…yet to solve."
"You cannot expect me to believe that."
"Well, I'm afraid it will have to suffice." His father replied, equally testy. "My best guess is your mother, whether unconsciously or not, somehow affected me with the immortality spell she used on you and your siblings. I bleed and take the same amount of time to heal as I did before. I have no thirst for blood, yet I do not age and I don't get sick. I suspect I cannot die of natural causes, but whether I can be killed is something I don't want to test."
Klaus narrowed his eyes. "I can rectify that. In fact, perhaps we should test it."
Lycaon's face froze, eyes hardening. "If you want to kill me, Niklaus, then do it." He ground out. "If you truly want me dead, then by all means end it. I know I have failed you. I accept that. But I'm here now, if you'll have me." He declared with passion, making Klaus' features soften. "If not, then go ahead. I've lived a long life, mostly that of death and grief. I am not afraid of what awaits me on the other side."
Klaus looked away, clenching his jaw, beating down his anger and even deeper, ignoring the self-loathing bubbling in his gut. Lycaon made no attempt to regain his son's favour, neither afraid or intimidated by the vampire.
Distantly, Klaus realised he enjoyed having someone to look up to – no, be equal to – after so long along, always something other, even to his siblings.
"Where were you?" Klaus asked eventually, breaking the tense silence. "All these years – where have you been?"
"Trying to find you." Lycaon answered quickly. "I chased Mikael off, only to return to your village to find you and your siblings gone."
Klaus met his father's eyes.
"You found me after all this time?"
Lycaon didn't break away from his gaze. "Of course. I never stopped looking."
Klaus swallowed, unable to look away from the sheer magnitude of emotion that shone in his father's eyes, and no doubt was visible in his own. In that moment, something lifted between them, dismantling the distrust and wariness built by so long apart.
"And now you have found me, what's your plan? What do you intend to do next?"
Klaus watched as his father's mouth curled into a smirk, eyes alight with promise. "Well, Mikael will need to be dealt with. Though I was more interested in asking if you still have your mother's grimoires."
"Why? What do you need them for?" Klaus asked, a confused furrow to his brows.
Lycaon's eyes twinkled with amusement.
"You're the son of a witch, you tell me."
Klaus frowned, thinking. After a second, realisation dawned on his face, expression morphing with shock.
"You think you can break my curse." He breathed. He met Lycaon's eyes with his own. "Release my wolf."
His father moved closer, his voice lowering with the gravity of his words. "A spell is like a lock. And every lock has a key. If we know the exact ingredients your mother used to bind your wolf - the exact spell she cast - we can break it."
Klaus' eyes widened, mind racing. His chest constricted, hope truly rising for the first time since before he turned. But his father didn't pause long.
"So, tell me, little wolf," Lycaon continued, "do you wish to punish those that have wronged you?"
Klaus' lips widened into a wolfish grin.
"Where do we begin?"
Mystic Falls, 2010
Present
"Did you deliver it?"
"Deliver what?" Sam asked, eyes on his phone.
Klaus felt the need to take a deep breath, such was his annoyance, but restrained himself. All the fancily dressed blood bags chatting around them that his mother had invited to her extravagant Ball certainly wasn't helping. He sent Sam a pointed glance, the young hybrid catching it when he 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, highly aware of his own doubts, making Sam recoil slightly.
"Nik-" The young hybrid began, pity in his eyes.
Klaus hated that look. Elijah had given him that look for the last thousand years; had practically invented that look. Like all he was to him was a tragedy.
He was not a tragedy. And he certainly was not broken.
He was Klaus Mikaelson. The Hybrid, The Big Bad Wolf. The thing men feared in the darkest hours of the night, a creature of ruthless violence and pure evil.
And if you don't stop looking at me like that, Sam, I will break you with my bloodstained teeth.
"Ah, here she comes now." Klaus declared before Sam could continue, cutting him off and nodding in Keira's direction. Sam turned his head, catching the sight of her figure walking towards them.
Klaus didn't keep his eyes on Kiera for long, not surprised by the beauty of the old vampire. Instead, he observed Sam's expression, rolling his eyes at the literal open-mouth goldfish impression Sam was unknowingly making. He shook his head and averted his gaze, scanning the room.
A flash of a golden halo, a glimpse of an ethereal figure-
And suddenly, Sam wasn't the only one slack jawed.
Inside his chest, Klaus felt his lungs catch, the unconscious movement of simply breathing forgotten at the sight of her. Klaus could do nothing but stare, his heart jumping slightly as Caroline stepped into the room. She looked around, seeming uncertain amongst the throng of guests, before straightening her back and breathing in a confidence that Klaus admired. And that's when it struck him - she had worn the dress. Which looked stunning, he had to admit, just as Rebekah said it would. With its exquisite jewelled bodice and layered gown, a magnificent shade of blue that complimented the wearer's complexion, it was fit for a princess, even a queen.
But it had nothing on Caroline.
The wolf inside him whined, urging him to approach her, to move, to do something you idiot.
Caroline smiled at a guest that greeted her, before her eyes flickered his way and finally, finally, their gazes met. Klaus bathed in the glow of her light for the second it lasted, before she averted her gaze, pretending indifference as she strode towards him. Mindlessly, Klaus placed his champagne glass on the table, abandoning Sam, his feet moving of their own accord. Within seconds, he had met her halfway, determinedly keeping his eyes fixed on her face because if he didn't, he knew they would linger too long elsewhere, enthralled by every inch of her.
He smiled, amused by the way she looked at him nervously as he approached. "Good Evening."
Over his long life, the few he had sought the attention of had broken under that charming smile. But as usual, Caroline existed to shatter all his expectations, soaring high above him while he was chained down to the earth, forced to crane his neck to catch a sight of her.
"I need a drink."
She brushed past him, and Klaus moved out of her way, letting her go, that surprised, almost fond, smile - but by no means offended as he should be - still fixed on his face. His gaze remained on her, watching as she weaved through the crowd and disappeared from sight.
The wolf made a content sound, her scent still lingering in the air around them, satisfied. For now.
"Brother!"
Klaus flinched as Kol slapped him on the back, unaware the original had approached from behind. He turned, lips twisting into a snarl, but Kol remained unruffled.
"Been looking for you ever since you disappeared with your little hybrid." Kol said with a grin, causing Klaus to scowl. "Which reminds me, is there a reason I see him cozying up to your girl?" Klaus ignored him, stepping around him. Kol jumped to block his path, leaning forward conspiritationly. "Shall I rip his head off? Personally, I quite like him, but after the lecture you gave me - correction, the neck snapping and proclamation of," Kol scrunched up his face into mock seriousness, imitating his brother's voice, "'touch her again and I'll tear out your spine' - when I sought her affections, I assumed she was off limits. Clearly I was mistaken about the promise to the threat-"
"What are you bloody talking about Kol?" Klaus cut him off, annoyed.
"Keira. Keira Deucain." Kol raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed she's here."
Klaus sent him a glare. "She's not my girl, Kol." He growled, trying to step around him once more.
Kol blocked his path. Again. "No, she was your girl. But not anymore, apparently." Kol mused, with a tilt of his head.
Klaus released a frustrated groan, physically shoving his brother to the side. "Look, do what you want. I have other more important things to do." He ground out as he passed, heading in the direction Caroline left.
Kol finally listened, remaining where Klaus left him.
"Does this mean she's free game?" He shouted after his brother.
Klaus muttered something profane under his breath.
"Welcome. Thank you for joining us."
Klaus stood with his siblings, behind Elijah on the staircase and between Kol and Rebekah, another glass of champagne in his hands, ready for a toast should his brother make one. He stood completely still, except for his eyes, which darted around the room, looking for her.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eyes, and found her just as she stepped into the room, anxiously smoothing down her skirt.
"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 their mother, who acknowledged him, bowing her head slightly with a smile before turning her gaze back to the crowd. Klaus barely noticed, keeping his eyes on Caroline. She noticed him staring at her and locked eyes with him for a second, before averting her gaze, clearly unnerved about being the focus of his attention. Klaus smirked into his glass, raising it and taking a sip, keeping his gaze on her the entire time. Caroline blushed.
"Tonight's pick is a centuries-old waltz, so if all of you could find yourselves a partner. Please join us in the ballroom." Elijah declared finally, inviting everyone with a sweep of his arm.
The room erupted into chatter and excitement, the guests eagerly beginning to move to find a partner. Klaus descended the steps, watching as Caroline scanned the room, making a move towards the human boy - Matt, was it? - before abruptly freezing upon seeing Rebekah approach him, the two linking arms and walking together towards the ballroom. Klaus tried to hide his smirk, the outright betrayal crossing the baby vampire's face highly amusing.
"Need a partner, love?" He asked from right behind her, so close she jumped at the sound of his voice.
She whirled round, Klaus catching the scent of her elderflower shampoo as the curled strands of hair swayed with her movements. His wolf whined, wanting to get closer, to get lost in her scent and bury its nose against her neck, breathing her in-
-Wait.
Klaus battled that urge away, confused slightly by it.
What was with his wolf today?
Caroline wasn't suffering from such duality, seemingly incensed by his cheek. She narrowed her eyes, but didn't say a word, not yet. Klaus took that as encouragement. He lifted his hand, palm up, offering it to her.
"I recall I asked you to save me a dance?"
"Is that a demand? Because if you think I owe you anything, you're mistaken." She snapped, folding her arms across her chest, defiant.
"No. Simply a request." He reassured her. Caroline remained unmoved, causing Klaus to sigh, his hand left hanging. "Come on, dance with me, Caroline." He smiled sheepishly. "Please?"
He watched her swallow, eyeing his hand like it would bite her.
- The wolf would never bite her, judging from the way it was practically wagging it's bloody tail, that Klaus was sure of, which should worry him (his surety on the matter that is) but gods, she was stunning and he couldn't really focus at the current moment -
"Fine." She agreed, finally placing her hand in his, not looking happy about it all.
Klaus grinned, so wide his cheeks hurt, squeezing her hand slightly. He pulled her towards him, and she let him, eyes still narrowed in suspicion, not that he cared. She had said yes, so what if she didn't trust him?
Now, he had time to convince her she could.
Folding her arm in the crook of his elbow, Klaus led her to the ballroom, joining the other dancers. They moved into the starting position for the waltz, two lines of partnered dancers each other, one hand on her hip, the other locked with hers.
Not once did he take his eyes off her.
The waltz began, the dancers stepping forward in sync, Caroline on his arm. They turned, the two lines of dancers now facing each other, moving to intersect. Klaus observed the lines and curves of her face, trying to memorise every angle, every imperfection, utterly transfixed by every side of her. They pivoted on the spot, the dancers moulding into two parallel lines once more, and Klaus kept his eyes on her, his smile subtle and small. Caroline completely ignored him, acting as if she didn't notice his gaze, and only after he twirled her, his right hand landing on her hip and her left on his shoulder, did she finally meet his eyes.
They sparkled like starlight, he noted.
Klaus led her in the steps, sweeping across the floor, surprised by how easily she kept up to his pace, elegantly dancing in his arms. He traced his thumb across the hand in his, the silk material of her gloves sliding underneath her skin. The silence lengthened, and the wolf inside preened at the proximity.
Klaus spoke first.
"I'm glad you came."
Predictably, she brushed his comment aside, even if it was meant to be a compliment.
"Well, it was either caviar or sympathy casseroles." Caroline said on a sigh, avoiding his eye, looking like she wanted to be anywhere else but here. "I chose the caviar." She finished bitterly.
Klaus felt his smile falter, a more serious expression replacing it. It had barely been two weeks since Bill Forbes had died. He'd heard about it - hard not to, in such a small town - and the general story was Bill had suffered an unfortunate heart attack that had cost him his life. Since the man had been perfectly healthy, and although perhaps not in his prime, had been still fighting fit all the same, Klaus had suspected that perhaps the cause of death was not so mundane, brushing into more supernatural waters. The closed casket funeral only added to such suspicions.
He'd considered sending his condolences to the Sheriff and her daughter, perhaps even a bouquet of flowers. He of course, hadn't met the illusive Forbes patriarch nor did he particularly care for the man's life either way, but the Sheriff had kept her word. His family were safe, the Mystic Falls council none the wiser of their more monstrous natures - he could bestow gratitude where it was due. But the woman he had met the night Caroline was bitten, that fierce human who had invited him into her home, neither begging nor pleading for him to save her daughter, simply telling him to instead, damn the consequences for herself, as close to an order she would dare... Klaus respected that woman. And he knew any condolences he could attempt to send, would only be received as hollow, a false sentiment. He would not insult Liz Forbes' intelligence by intruding with such false gifts.
Her daughter though... Well, Klaus did not mourn Mikael's death. But the first time he had left Mystic Falls, the first time they had all fled the only home they had ever known - Klaus had mourned Lycaon. He had thought the man dead, his pack was dead and Klaus... Klaus had never known any of them, not really. He hadn't just mourned the death of someone he cared for, he had mourned the absence of never knowing Lycaon in the first place and that, that came with its own unique breed of pain. Suffice to say, Klaus was no stranger to loss.
"I heard about your father-" Klaus began, not entirely sure what he intended to say that would help, but Caroline's expression immediately closed off, cutting off his words.
"Don't." She warned, finally meeting his eyes, voice harsh. "Seriously."
Her father was off limits. Duly noted.
"Very well." Klaus agreed. "Onto more mannered subjects then," his mouth stretched into a wide smirk, eyes trailing down her body appreciatively, "like how ravishing you look in that dress."
"I didn't really have time to shop."
Klaus smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes. "And the bracelet I gave you - what's your excuse for wearing that?"
Caroline refused to look at him, and Klaus knew he had caught her there.
"You know, you're quite the dancer." He continued when she didn't answer.
"Well, I've had training." She declared, raising her chin proudly. Klaus smiled wider, struck by how adorable the little baby vampire was, determined to not let him intimidate her - she wasn't a fool you know, you're not the only one who knows things. "I happen to be Miss Mystic Falls."
Klaus regarded her fondly. "I know."
Her eyes sought his, cheeks blushing slightly at what she found there before looking away. She huffed, unamused. "Like how you somehow know my measurements?" She sniped, regarding him suspiciously.
"Well, I couldn't exactly gift you a dress you couldn't wear, now could I?" He pointed out. She glared at him, her doubts clear on her face. Klaus saw the loud accusation in her eyes, and suddenly grew serious for a second. He never meant to anger her, nor imply a crass act on his part. "Don't look so offended, love, my means were entirely innocent. This is a small town. I assure you your previous seamstress for the Mystic Falls pageant was happy to oblige my request."
"You compelled my seamstress?" She asked, a trace of outrage colouring her voice.
"I had to find a dress almost as beautiful as you - it was quite the challenge. Certainly not a task I could complete alone." Klaus explained patiently, his smile widening again when Caroline looked away, only to scoff a shocked laugh.
"And where did you get that line? From some cheesy romance novel?"
"What line?"
"The line. The line you just used on me."
His expression pulled into a puzzled frown. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, love."
He truly didn't. All he did was give her compliment, hadn't he?
Caroline just shook her head in disbelief, staring at him like she couldn't quite reconcile what she was seeing.
"What?" Klaus laughed, smiling at the expression she was pulling.
"You just-" Caroline snapped her mouth shut, glaring at him. "You can't just say things like that!" She hissed.
"Why not?"
"Because you can't." She paused, glancing away, only to think better of it, and look back at him. "You're not allowed."
Klaus stared at her, equal parts intrigued and perplexed. "You know, I don't think I've ever met a woman who doesn't like compliments."
"Well-" Caroline opened her mouth, struggling to find a response. "I don't so... so there."
It didn't sound particularly confident. Or even rang as a strong argument.
"Hmm." Klaus hummed, valiantly trying to contain his amusement. "I'm curious, does this mean insults will also have the opposite effect or...?"
Caroline glared at him. "Shut up."
Klaus hid his smile, but said no more. A few moments later, Caroline glanced away from him, hiding a smile of her own. Klaus pretended not to notice, but secretly celebrated the brief glimpse of the girl no longer glad in armour of her own making.
Silence enveloped the two, Klaus magnetised by her, circling around her like how the earth circled the sun. Caroline twirled in his arms, glancing over his shoulder as she did so. She frowned.
"Who's that dancing with your mother?"
Klaus turned his head at Caroline's question, following her gaze, and the smile slid from his face.
How had he not noticed?
Because you were too busy staring at her.
"Klaus?" She asked quietly, clearly unnerved by his abrupt change in demeanour.
Klaus swallowed. He turned away from the sight of the familiar man dancing with his mother, forcing himself to loosen his grip on Caroline's hip, afraid he would hurt her. Around them, he was painstakingly aware of his siblings and the other vampires in the room listening in, having caught his reaction and waiting for his response.
Klaus avoided Caroline's searching eyes, keeping his gaze on a fixed point over her shoulder.
"That, sweetheart," He began, forcing himself to keep his voice level, "would be my father. My biological father."
Several dancers away, he heard Elijah, his constantly held together, prim and proper brother, Elijah, trip over his own feet, stumbling mid dance. The human boy, Matt, if he remembered correctly, cried out, Rebekah stepping painfully on his toes. Finn forgot all pretenses of pretending not to listen in and openly stared, while Kol, face hilariously shocked, released several exclamations of profanity in their native tongue under his breath, a reaction that was mirrored by the eldest Salvatore.
"What?" Caroline breathed, eyes wide. Her gaze flickered to his parents, dancing in the centre of the room. "Seriously?"
Klaus moulded his lips into a thin line, expression suddenly dark. "That is exactly my reaction, love."