A/N- Okay, this chapter is seven thousand words so sorry about the length but it's the second to last chapter.
It was nine o'clock in the morning and Caroline had finally got home.
The battle had been over surprisingly quickly, at least, she'd been surprised.
She'd always figured epic fights would take the entire day, but it can't have been more than a few hours in total.
After checking that all the witches and werewolves were dead, she'd offered to stay behind to help with the clean-up of the bodies, but Annabelle had waved her away and her soldiers had carried them into the building with the rest, restarting the fire to ensure that the structure would completely collapse and everything would be burnt beyond recognition.
Caroline wasn't entirely sure what story they'd be going with, probably some sort of gang war but, for the moment anyway, it wasn't her problem.
The Bourbon St manor was still wrecked so she'd snuck past the police barricades and walked in the light of the approaching morning to the Garden District, kicking off her shoes to tread barefoot on the grass of the front lawn.
The dirt was cold underneath her feet, still damp from the night and it felt wonderful, so full of life.
The house was quiet as she had never known it before when she stepped inside and smelt so clean that when she sniffed at her shirt, she grimaced at how she reeked of smoke.
That was one problem she could easily handle however.
Leaving her clothes in a bundle on the floor of Klaus' ensuite bathroom, she eased herself under the shower spray and closed her eyes, letting the water cleanse her and ease the tension from her shoulders.
She deliberately clears her mind so as not to think about everything that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours, she could mull over that later.
Whatever reserves of adrenaline she had left over from the battle kept her going until she had towel-dried her hair, after that, weariness hit her and she wandered into the bedroom, sitting on the duvet before giving up on the idea of getting dressed and flopping onto her back, tucking the towel more firmly around her body.
It was a beautifully sunny day outside and the light warmed her skin as she stared up, finding peace in the plain white ceiling.
Time passed and she hears a footfall on the stairs and then on the carpet as Klaus marches into the room with a swift, sure step that falters the moment he realises that she's there.
He opens his mouth as if to speak but when she holds out her hand, he falls silent, accepting her invitation by kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed, crawling up to lay sideways and she reaches up to ease his head onto her stomach.
He releases a long exhale and she can feel the tension draining out of him as she lazily plays with his golden curls.
After a while, she began to sing softly under her breath and it was between songs that Klaus whispered that he loved her.
When Father Kieran had been told that the very afternoon following the 'gang war' that had taken place across the French Quarter, that his church would be seeing Francesca Guerrera's funeral, he'd wanted to barricade the doors and refuse point blank to let that murderess receive anything more than a burial at crossroads.
But Elijah and an English woman named Annabelle Mason had managed to convince him otherwise.
"For all her criminal dealings, she was a prominent member in the community," the Original vampire had argued in a reasonably sane voice,
"People will be expecting her to be buried with honour and respect. The sooner we can do this, the sooner we can put her actions and intentions to rest."
"Will anyone even be able to come?" Kieran had asked, "The police still have barricades across the Quarter and are barely letting anyone in."
Elijah shrugs, "I hardly think it matters, those who remained in the Quarter can attend and all we need is for the funeral to take place so we can begin moving on."
Kieran had relented but hadn't put too much effort into planning his role in the ceremony, after all, he'd figured the bureaucracy that went into identifying a dead body, preparing it for burial and getting it released to someone who was most definitely not family, would take the better part of a week.
Yet, when one-thirty rolled around, a plain oak coffin was brought in and set up before the altar and at ten to two- those who had received word via social media began filing into the church, some in funeral garb and others in the clothes they'd been wearing since yesterday.
By this point, Kieran hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours and is struggling to contain his yawns when Cami comes to stand beside him,
"Rousseau's is shut for the day," she explained, "No-one can get through to drink and those still here are avoiding crowds."
He nods and is about to comment on how quiet it had been walking down Bourbon St without any crowds- a disturbingly pleasant experience- when he sees a familiar face.
"What is she doing here?" he murmurs, half to himself as Katherine Pierce strides into the church, the crowds clearing to make a path for her.
Wearing a long black dress and matching heels but a bright red belt that she definitely had not had on last night, she is among the very few who looked as if she'd had time to go home, shower and change.
Without looking left or right, she strode up the aisle with practised nonchalance, no doubt aware that every eye was upon her,
"After everything that happened," Cami whispered, tilting her head towards him,
"I'm guessing she's here to stick a needle in Francesca's eye and hold a mirror under her nose."
Kieran nods and glances uneasily towards the open casket. Considering the state of Francesca's body, he'd argued for a closed coffin, but Elijah and Ms Mason had convinced him otherwise.
"People need to see that she's dead," they'd explained, "If they don't and someone starts the rumour that she's alive…"
They'd trailed off but he'd got the picture and relented.
It would be an utter farce of a funeral, but this was a woman who had ruined many a life with her casinos, her drug running and nefarious supernatural crimes, so he doubted there was a true mourner in the church.
Certainly, not Ms Pierce, who had lain a single pink rose across Francesca's chest, turned around and sauntered right out again.
"Katherine?"
The British accent gave her a moment of panic before she realized that it wasn't cultured enough to be Elijah.
She spins on her heel and sees Klaus making his way down the street, hand in hand with Caroline Forbes, the two of them wearing such serene expressions on their faces that she feels a thrill of envious hatred course through her veins.
They'd both killed last night, who the hell were they to be at peace afterwards?
"Klaus?"
He squeezes Caroline's hand, "I'll see you inside, sweetheart."
She nods and gives Katherine a quick wave before heading inside, just as the organs begin to bellow.
Katherine crosses her arms and waits for Klaus to reach her, joining her on the street corner a few hundred feet away from the police barricade.
He puts his hands in his pockets and kicks at a pebble but fortunately, he's not in the mood for small talk,
"I think it's time for you to come home," he tells her, straight up and she is taken aback, not only at the invitation but at the man extending it.
She wondered if the ski suppliers were doing a roaring trade in hell.
"To Elijah's strong and capable hands?" she snorts, "My skin tone wears purple well but even so the colour would ruin my neck."
He huffs, "Sabine is dead, as is her entire coven, so I have reason to believe that any spell that was driving my brother to madness has begun to abate, he should be fine but if not, I can keep him away until his sanity returns fully. After everything that's happened, we need to return to normal as soon as possible and you are a member of the royal family."
"I was," she seethed, "Until the Prince disowned me and took a whore."
"Every man cheats at least one time, especially when forever is longer than fifty years." he tries to argue but she laughs,
"Caroline will have your balls if you even think about straying." She points out, hoping at the very least to drag one cloud across his momentarily clear blue skies but instead, he only shrugs, "I'm not every man."
She gives him an unimpressed look, "I'll consider it." She allows before checking her phone,
"If you'll excuse me, I'm late."
Caroline forced herself to keep her attention on Father Kieran for the majority of the service, even though she can feel a lot of eyes on her.
A few are whispering to each other, only stopping when the priest turns his tired, heavily lined eyes on them and then starting up again.
She sees a few people on phones as well and swears she can hear the sound of someone playing Angry Birds.
Having attended all her funerals in Mystic Falls, she's not used to the audience caring so little about the person in the casket, there isn't one wet eye in the house and the only person behaving himself and keeping his eyes on Father Kieran is Klaus.
And she doesn't doubt for a second that he would be drinking and dancing in the aisle if she wasn't there.
Especially because, before arriving, they- or, he- had received a call from Annabelle Mason, informing them that Francesca had been working with a witch named Sabine who had placed a curse on Elijah, driving him to the insanity they had seen over the last few months.
She'd heard this from a witch who was associated with Katherine who had tried to break the curse before everything had gone to hell.
Caroline cranes her neck to see that the marks are still on the floor, barely covered by the pews, but the blood had been cleared away.
The organ plays and Caroline looks around, to see if she's supposed to kneel or stand and rises when she sees everyone else doing so. Except they're filing out of the church.
She glances down at her watch, for a second terrified that she'd dozed off but it assures her that only thirty minutes had passed since the service had begun.
Klaus runs a hand down her arm and links their fingers together,
"I don't think anyone was interested in a proper funeral, love," he offers by way of explanation, "Even if Elijah and Annabelle weren't the only obstacles to Francesca's corpse being fed to the alligators, most of the attendees are dead on their feet."
Ms Mystic Falls quirks an eyebrow at his poor choice of words and he shrugs, glancing down with a small smirk before they took their place in the crowd exiting into the sunlight.
She's not sure what happens next but people are still looking at Klaus and her expectantly, so she moves them to the side, looking up the stairs and pretending that she's waiting for Father Kieran while her skin tingles with the weight of people's eyes upon her.
Elijah appears in the door, runs his eyes over the crowd and sees them both, making his way to them smoothly, his movements no longer jilted and clumsy as they had been over the last few weeks.
She couldn't believe that they hadn't thought to have him checked for curses! So stupid!
But his cruelty had emerged so gradually, bit by bit that they hadn't even thought it was unnatural.
"Is Erik with Rebekah?" Elijah asks as he reaches them and Caroline has a moment of panic when she realised that she hadn't even considered where the poor kid was.
But Klaus nods and doesn't seem the least bit panicked, "She offered to watch over him for the day, he seems quite fond of her now that her blonde paramour is dead."
Caroline jumps a little at this, not having realised that Rebekah's boyfriend had been on the other side of the fight.
She figured over the next few days or weeks the list of their enemies and the list of the dead- which she hoped were one and the same- would be written in the noted absences of supernatural creatures from the regular haunts. In the empty chairs at Rousseau's, the customers that no longer frequented the Cauldron, the apartments that their owners never returned to.
"Annabelle has suggested we burn down the Guerrera house," Elijah informs them, "And she knows a spell to ensure that Francesca's ghost won't haunt the Quarter."
Caroline shivers at the thought, "I didn't even realise that would be an issue," she murmurs,
"God, could you imagine the Mystic Falls Ghost tour? I can't decide if it'd be the longest walk in history or the shortest, after all, you wouldn't really need to leave the town square. Okay kids, the following massacres took place here…and there…oh, there's the Grill, where fights went down frequently because the vampires never liked to stray too far from the bar."
She giggles at her momentarily morbid sense of humour and Klaus releases her hand to slip his arm about her waist,
"It's okay, sweetheart." he whispers in her ear, kissing her hair and going to draw her close but she digs her heels in, straightens her back and forces a smile on her face, "I know." She tells him firmly, deliberately staring into his eyes to show him that she wasn't about to fall apart.
Not here. Not when so many people were watching her and she'd won their respect only a dozen or so hours ago.
She had come so far.
Four years ago, Caroline Forbes had been nothing more than the shallow, neurotic shadow of Elena Gilbert. She had been used and abused and then expected to smile and forgive her rapist and her enemies. She had been nothing more than bait and then condemned by others for her emotions.
Two years ago, she had stood in a dark field, looking down at a dozen witches, dead by her hand and shrieked at Klaus when he'd wanted to only dig the one grave. She had refused to leave and stood there, glaring at his back to make sure that he would work through the night to make individual graves for her victims.
Yet, even then, when he had stayed behind for her, she had condemned herself for her emotions, for her desires for him. And she had run.
But she wasn't running now.
Last night, she had commanded an army, she had demanded the respect of vampires and shed blood easily in the protection of her loved ones.
Last night, she had realised that she could be a queen.
And she would be.
"You should burn Francesca's house this afternoon," she advises Elijah, who blinks in surprise but after a moment, his features smooth, so she continues,
"After she's been buried but when the fire trucks are still in the Quarter so it's of minimal inconvenience to everyone and then over the next few months burn down every property her family ever owned."
Klaus nods sagely, "Perhaps we should go one step further and find every record of the Guerrera family and their aliases in New Orleans? Wipe them from memory and thus from existence?"
"A fitting punishment," Elijah comments drily, before looking over his shoulder at the women approaching, "If you'll excuse me."
Annabelle Mason smiles politely, "Good afternoon," she greets with reserved British cheer,
"I was hoping to speak with you both, Camille here," she gestures to Cami standing next to her and clutching her handbag nervously,
"Has graciously offered to open the bar for us."
Cami looks to them both for confirmation before shrugging, "Okay, let's go."
The French Quarter was a ghost town today, people moving about cautiously in the few shadows afforded on the unseasonably sunny day, keeping to their homes or only leaving to flee New Orleans.
Which meant that across the river, Algiers Point looked like a carnival by comparison.
The long stretch of grass by Katherine's new home was covered in picnic blankets, a few buffet tables, a barbeque someone had brought with them and a jazz band was setting up with their backs to the river and people were already milling about.
Most of them carrying books in their hands or tucked under their arms.
In honour of Giacomo Farnese.
Katherine had found them all on Facebook, a page dedicated to his store and people asking after him. She had broken the news of his death to them and when they'd begun asking about a funeral, she had come up with this idea instead.
The last of the old house of Farnese probably deserved an ancient funeral in his ancestral home, with full honours, yards of red cloth and incense so heavy you could drink it as a cardinal led the couture bedecked and weeping mourners to the marble tomb.
However, she thinks that he wouldn't have minded this instead.
She had asked people to wear any colour but black to honour him and herself is wearing a blue dress she'd had to buy this morning when she'd realised that she didn't actually own many clothes that weren't dark. She feels a little like Elena Gilbert in the robin's blue outfit but it was the least she could do to ignore a momentary discomfort for the man who had done so much for her.
Who had loved her so selflessly.
She clears her throat and moves to the buffet table, walking straight past the hot foods cooked in bulk to the fresh fruits.
Not even Giacomo was worth the risk of food poisoning or worse, weight gain.
With a paper plate in one hand, she moved to the picnic blanket where Nadia was sitting absorbed in her new phone.
Her last one having been the victim of the garbage disposal unit in Katherine's kitchen. She had fed her a line about her phone having gone up to a farm in the country to run free with other phones and she would simply have to live a day without texting every five seconds. Nadia had shrugged reached into her handbag and pulled out another phone.
Katherine is all but ignored when she sits down and contemplates sending the phone for a swim in the Mississippi when a hipster girl in plaid and with enough piercings to set off a metal detector half a mile away plops down next to her.
She has a well-read copy of Kafka's The Castle in her lap and Katherine gives her the respect due for anyone who made their way through Kafka's longer works without setting the book on fire afterwards.
"Hey," the girl holds out her hand, "You're Katerina, right? Farnese's girlfriend."
Katherine starts a little at the use of her birth name, before taking her hand with a smile pulled right from Caroline's repertoire of polite facial expressions,
"Yes, thank-you for coming." She replies and the girl shrugs,
"Farnese was cool, and he always gave students the required books for lit classes free if they were new and five bucks if they had notes from the last year written in them." She gives a wistful grin, "I'm sorry about what happened. Do you know what's going to happen to the store?"
Katherine swallowed and Nadia finally put her phone down and jumped in to the conversation,
"We haven't decided yet," she lies smoothly, "The arson team is still investigating and it could be a year before the site is declared safe to rebuild on."
And honestly? Katherine had had enough of living among ghosts and the dead, she had no intention of building a living shrine to Jack.
Let it be enough that those who had known him in the human world considered her his grieving lover. And those in the supernatural world believed her to have been his whore.
She had been called so many things in her long life that she would gladly take on two more titles, especially when they were in memory of a man who had been kind to her and reunited her with her daughter.
Nadia's phone buzzes and she climbs to her feet,
"Excuse me." She mutters before striding off with a determination that belies the casual meandering of the rest of the crowd of nearly one hundred people.
After a few minutes, Katherine decides to follow her.
Elijah had been in argument with himself for the better part of the day.
He had eagerly sought distraction in the retrieval of Francesca Guerrera's body from the morgue, and the necessary compulsions and bribes that entailed.
He had worked beside Ms Mason, who hadn't yet the standing required in the community to organize a farce of a funeral in a few short hours.
However, when the afternoon sun was high in the sky and his duties had dispersed as easily as the locals into their sanctuaries, he found himself wandering aimlessly down Bourbon St.
He moved to stand under the archway that lead into the courtyard of the manor, noting the ruined courtyard and shattered gallery with dismay. The building would need to be refurbished, and in some parts, reconstructed entirely.
And he had just finished decorating!
Yet, there was no point trying to begin this monumental task today, not when the police barricades still remained up and residents were still trying to return to their homes.
Erik was being minded by Rebekah, and Niklaus had Caroline at his side, the young woman cutting a finer figure for leadership than she had done previously. He had heard about her exploits last night, and decided that she must have finally admitted to herself that her future lay less in college degrees and frat parties and in standing by his brother's side as he ruled New Orleans.
So, his family didn't require his services today.
There was nothing more for him to do.
Except to go to Katerina, kneel at her feet and beg for forgiveness.
His hand shook at the prospect, not from shame but from terror.
He had not earned her forgiveness, nor could he ever hope to do so.
But at the very least, he could apologise and let her know for certain that the curse Celeste had placed on him had been broken by her death. Perhaps she would even let him speak long enough to explain why Celeste had been bent on their destruction in the first place.
And if she instead decided to slam the door in his face, or- even more likely- slam a sharp or breakable object into his face, at least it might make her feel better.
He supposes that is all he can do at this point.
He walks to Algiers Point because he worried that if he went home to the Garden District for a car, he would find an excuse to remain and put off his duties for another day.
It's an unseasonably sunny day considering they were still in the tipping point between winter and autumn, he doesn't feel the heat in any sense but he still slips off his jacket, carrying it over his shoulder as he walks down the street, ceding to this act of mortal normality so as not to attract notice from any humans he might come across.
He still didn't know Katerina's address, Niklaus had hidden that well from him and ordered Rebekah to do the same lest some of the curse-induced madness lingered in Elijah's heart, but he had monitored himself all the morning, taking great lung filling breaths of air into his body and feeling cleansed with every exhale.
Yet, even without the address for her temporary home, he had heard about the party taking place in Algiers Point and had reckoned that if she had decided against literally dancing on Francesca or Celeste's grave, she had settled for celebrating regardless.
He hears the music and notes a few extra cars parked along the street before he sees the party and, despite himself, his steps slow.
So, when the vampiress confronts him, they're still a fair distance from the field.
"Leave, now!" she orders without so much as a by-your-leave.
Storming up to him with fury in her eyes and clenched fists that are at such odds with the lavender romper and cream wedges she has on.
"Katherine has nothing to say to you!"
Elijah blinks at this rough address and tries to recall if he's ever met this woman before in his life. Her brunette tresses are slightly familiar but he can't immediately place her.
"I'm an Original," he chastises gently, "Do show some respect."
He takes a side-step which she matches, blocking his path and he has to wonder if this creature intended to fight him.
"You are an old monster but still a monster," she snaps, her accent adding extra bite to the words, "I will not let you hurt her again!"
Ah.
Had Katerina replaced him in her heart and in her bed so quickly?
No wonder this woman was so worried. Five hundred years of history and passion was not easy to overcome and could not be forgot in a few weeks.
It would intimidate the best of new lovers.
He gives her a polite smile with only an edge,
"My dear, I intend to speak to Katerina, now I have noted your objection, however, if you think you can stop me, you are deeply mistaken."
She snarls and her eyes go black, her fangs pushing out of her gums and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.
Such a foolish chit.
With only one movement, faster than she can follow, he has her by the throat, squeezing the air from her lungs and drawing her close before letting the blood flood his eyes in the only warning she would ever receive.
And he can see the fear in her eyes but something else too.
A wilful, arrogant disobedience that makes him smile.
Only one other woman in history had ever dared to defy him like this.
Oh.
"Oh," he murmured, his grip becoming gentle as he stroked her throat,
"You have your mother's fire."
She pouts sulkily, as if annoyed that he had discovered her identity and in doing so, resembles Katerina to an even greater extent.
He is about to ask her name when he hears a familiar voice crying out.
"Nadia!"
Both of them turn to look and see Katerina hurrying down the street as quickly as her silver heels allowed with her now human ankles. She is wearing a blue dress and for a moment he has an image of Elena Gilbert in his mind that he quickly disperses lest Katerina somehow divine the comparison and loathe him even more for it.
She has to slide between two illegally parked cars to reach them and almost loses her footing in a storm grating, Elijah moves forward and reaches out instinctively to catch her but Nadia pushes him aside, blocking his path and taking her mother's arm, making sure she's steady before releasing her.
But Nadia refuses to move out of his path and she's just tall enough to obscure most of his vision with the crown of her head.
"You should go back to the party, mother," Nadia suggests with feigned casualness, as if Elijah isn't standing an inch behind her.
"People might miss you."
He can't see Katerina's expression but he can hear her tone, filled with disbelief and decidedly unimpressed by her daughter's attempt.
"Nadia, give us a moment, would you?" she asks, yet the hindrance doesn't move.
"Mother…it is not safe…"
Elijah's breath catches at that and his heart tears at how right Nadia was to make that statement.
Not even a full day ago, it would have been so accurate.
"If an Original wants to talk to someone, that conversation is going to happen," Katerina announces, "If you try to stop that, you're going to have a bad time."
He can see the movement of the bones in Nadia's back as she crosses her arms, "Mother…"
"Nadia," Katerina's voice brooks no argument, "Go back to the party, I'll be back in ten minutes."
Elijah's eyes widen slightly at the time restriction unthinkingly placed upon his apology.
He would have to be concise.
Nadia stomps off with a clatter that only a Petrova could manage in wedges.
And leaves Elijah alone with his former fiancé.
Which coincides to the exact second that his ability to speak deserts him.
Katerina tilts her head as she studies him,
"I was told the curse was broken," she said, "Jury's still out on whether it was Sabine desiccating you or her death that broke it though."
He swallows, "Celeste," he manages around his dry mouth, "Celeste du Bois."
Katherine shrugs carelessly, "You mentioned that name last night, but I really have no idea who she was or why I should care."
"She was an old lover of mine," he offers, "From when my family and I were building New Orleans from the ground up, a witch whom you drowned in her tub while she bathed."
Considering that Elijah had never even known until Celeste's revelation that Katherine had snuck into New Orleans, or had even been in the Americas until much later in the nineteenth century, he figures that information should be enough to jog her memory.
It wasn't like he had a wealth of ex-lovers who had drowned.
Excepting that unfortunate coincidence of the six utterly unrelated women who had been on the maiden voyage of the Titanic.
He runs his eyes over her face and sees a faint discolouration under her make-up, the fading bruise that spoke of the crime he had committed against her.
He feels sick to his stomach at what he had done.
He inhales slowly, giving himself a moment to try and consider his words before speaking,
"I understand that I was cursed," he begins, "As far as we can determine, it was placed on me when the stake pierced my heart in Mystic Falls, and grew in the darkness which culminated in my becoming the very monster your daughter rightly considers me to be, however, that is no excuse for the way I treated you, my darling. I should have been able to fight the magic, instead, I allowed the worst parts of my nature to dominate and…I hurt you…"
He breaks off, blinking forcibly before resuming his speech, "I know I can never redeem myself in your eyes, but if there is any hope of reconciliation, I would like the opportunity."
It is a rather weak ending but he has no right to ask for another chance to speak, nor can he think of any words to cover his mistake.
Katerina straightens up, contemplating him with a level gaze before stepping forward and, out of habit, he reaches for her, his hands going to her hips, searching through the material of her dress as she presses against his chest.
"And how should we reconcile Elijah?" she asked, sliding an arm up around his neck, "Should I whisper in your ear how much I missed you? Should I catch my breath and moan your name? Should I press myself against you but tilt my head, lower my lashes and play the sweet maiden…or would you prefer the femme fatale whore?"
He deserves that, the metaphorical knife twist in his gut as Katherine Pierce whispers poison in his ear, and knowing this, he only cups her hips and responds with gentleness,
"Neither," he murmurs, "I would prefer you in all your honesty."
When the slightest furrow appears in her brow, he realizes that she had been spoiling for a fight, hoping to be able to shout the words she couldn't speak.
Her emotions had always been best expressed in anger, when she had the option of rescinding the truth later with the lie of having been caught up in the argument.
She bites the inside of her lips, "I'll think about it," she mumbles, clearly fighting with herself and looks over her shoulder, back to the party, before turning back to him,
"The next time you betray me Elijah," she begins, her voice cold with warning,
"I will leave you and find happiness with another man and after that, I will never think of you again, not even once."
He doubts that, but that future was nothing less than she would deserve, he squeezes her hips once, gently before releasing her,
"I will wait for you as long as you need."
She nods, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "You should go," she tells him,
"The party is for Giacomo, it's his…memorial."
He runs his tongue along his bottom teeth, "You know, I confronted him once, the same day he declared his love for you,"
Her eyes widen at the revelation and her eyes dart left to right as she tries to figure out when this meeting took place, her cheeks colouring when she clearly recalls how she had fallen asleep that afternoon after they'd spent a few hours making love.
"I was rather callous in having done so," Elijah admits, "I was jealous and offended that he had offered his heart to you, but…I grew to respect him for having done so. He had known that he stood no chance of his love being returned romantically and was content to be your friend, he had greater strength than I to have made that choice to live in such a manner."
She ducks her head and steps back, "He was better than I deserved, and he only ever loved me when I was safe and happy, he didn't know what I was like when I was running or scared and when he did…I don't think he liked me then."
She clears her throat and takes on the familiar slouch of Katherine Pierce, giving him a careless wave before sauntering back down the street, catching the attention of a man who watches her lecherously before seeing Elijah's pointed glare.
He lets her seek protection behind her façade and, knowing there was nothing more he could do but wait, he decides to head home.
Nadia is hovering at the edge of the party when she returns, one foot on the path and one on the grass, tapping her phone nervously.
"Are you alright?" she demands, running her eyes over her as if to check for injury and Katherine smiles,
"I'm fine," she assures her, "Elijah didn't come to physically hurt me, but to try and make amends."
She feels thirsty so she heads over to one of the coolers and swipes a bottle of beer, throwing a flirtatious smile to the guy who would have stopped her.
"You aren't going to go back to him?!" Nadia asks incredulously, as Katherine swipes her phone as a makeshift bottle opener.
"What's interesting," Katherine murmurs, ignoring her daughter as she meanders over to the river, "Is that Celeste was only ever after me because she saw my face as she drowned during her first life."
Nadia shrugged, "So? Why is that interesting?"
Katherine sipped on her beer, "Because before this century I had never set foot in New Orleans so I definitely wasn't the doppelganger that killed her."
"Ina!"
Rebekah looks up as one very exhausted werewolf eases her way into the mansion.
Her clothes are ill-fitting and her hair is a mess but when she sees Erik she beams, hurrying barefoot across the kitchen floor to scoop him up into her arms.
"Oh, baby," she breathes into his hair as he squeals with delight,
"I am so glad you're okay."
Rebekah leans back in her seat as Raina settles down, sitting Erik on her lap and hugging him against her tightly.
"I'm surprised that you showed your face here," she comments as Cary follows at a more cautious pace, "You know my brother was contemplating mounting your heads on the parlour wall, and he wasn't sounding too picky about whether to have you in wolf or human form."
Raina looked over Erik's head, "I'm not leaving him," she said, firmly,
"Even last night, when I changed I still stayed near him, besides he's pack."
A little bolder now, Cary approaches them and holds a hand out to Erik who takes it,
"Woof woof." He burbles, giggling and pointing at the blonde man who nods,
"Yeah," he grins, "I guess I am."
He turns to Rebekah with a self-depreciating grin, "I know Klaus doesn't trust us yet, and we don't trust him, but for Erik's sake, we're going to work on it."
She shrugs, "Good-luck and if you figure out how to earn the trust of an Original, be a dear and publish a manual, you'd make an absolute fortune."
After lunch, Erik insists on taking his crayons to one of Nik's many art studios in the mansion and Rebekah keeps only half an eye on him as he colours everything in sight.
She admittedly doesn't know much about children, even though she'd cherished a dream of being a mother for a century or two, but it seemed like Erik was holding up well after having been kidnapped. He certainly didn't seem unhappy as he took his red crayon to the wall, stopping only when Raina directed him back to the butcher's paper.
When Nik came home later, Erik would be all smiles as he presented his father with his scribbles and her brother would praise him and look after him before going upstairs with Caroline Forbes.
And her other brother would probably be climbing into bed with Katherine bloody Pierce, despite the fact that rumours still abounded about her infidelity.
While she would be spending the night and all the subsequent days in the foreseeable future alone.
Because she'd once again been stupid enough to fall in love with a traitor.
What was wrong with her?!
Actually, no, she didn't want to try and answer that question, like as not, that way lay pain.
With a self-pitying huff, she slouched on the couch and turned to the mind-numbing bliss bought about by social media.
She'd recently found Instagram and when she opens the app, she sees she has one new follower.
Matt from New York.
Caroline bit her tongue and allowed herself the satisfaction of expressing her emotions internally, filling her mind with her screams of frustration while the two people in front of her clocked in a literal hour of discussion about tea.
She had made a huge mistake.
She should have run from Klaus when she had the chance.
Better yet, she should take the white oak stake and stab him right in the…
"Uh…guys?" Cami approached the table, "Look, I'm glad that you two enjoy the tea at Rousseau's, really I am, but I have an essay due in two days and really need to get home and write, so if you could start discussing whatever you came here to discuss…"
Klaus and Annabelle Mason look up in pleasant surprise, as if they hadn't noticed the time passing.
Caroline throws Cami a grateful look, "Thank-you." she mouths behind their backs.
"Okay," she puts her empty coffee cup on the table, "Klaus," she looks to him,
"I met Annabelle last night when she and her people saved me from a witch…you can ask questions later," she adds firmly, as he opens his mouth to interrupt,
"Point is, she has a proposition for you, you're going to hear her out and then we'll consider it."
The Original Hybrid seems taken aback at being ordered around by her and she realizes that she had been speaking to him in the same tone that she'd ordered the girls of Mystic Falls at cheerleading or dances but being bossy is part of her nature so he'll have to get used to that.
The last time Annabelle had explained her plan to her, it had been a rather basic introduction, but now that she has the time, minus an hour, she is able to describe it fully.
"I am interested in setting up an international council for the supernatural," she begins after having explained herself and her family history,
"A group of beings who will be able to create and enforce laws, who will be able to prevent situations like the Silas debacle and the other reality-altering incidences that were so common to Mystic Falls."
"I wouldn't be looking to control the supernatural world," she continues hastily when Klaus' expression darkens,
"Nor would I be looking to give that power to any one creature, however, I think we do need a system in place for when a ripper vampire decides to slaughter an entire town, beginning with the beheading of all its children, a group wants to use their supernatural power to start a war amongst humans, or when a witch wishes to exterminate an entire species out of some misguided belief that she is the good person in such a situation."
Klaus hums, "An international order," he muses, "Overseen by yourself and with my family backing you?"
She shakes her head, "Overseen by myself but otherwise, your family would be my equals and partners in every way."
He leans back in his chair and reaches for Caroline's hand, clasping it on the table and running his thumb over her daylight ring, "What d'you think, sweetheart?"
Caroline bites her lip before speaking, "I think it's a good idea," she says, giving a quick nod to Annabelle, "I think considering everything that my friends and I did…I mean, yeah, we were trying to survive you and your family but…when Elena and Jeremy killed Kol to free Damon from compulsion…thousands of vampires were erased overnight and when we were after the cure? We could have destroyed the Other Side and it lead to the genocide of your hybrid race. I know we thought we were in the right, but so did the witches who wanted to destroy your family last night. I think there does need to be a system in place to stop people who could accidentally destroy the world."
She thinks she's rambling and cuts herself off but Klaus is smiling, "If you have Caroline's support then I shan't stand in your way," he informs Annabelle,
"However, I do have a few suggestions."
The word he clearly means is orders but neither woman calls him on it.
"I want Caroline to be your partner during the setup of this Order," he continues,
"I want her consulted every step of the way and her decisions to carry as much weight- if not more- than yours."
Caroline stares at him in surprise and even Annabelle raises an eyebrow, "I'm guessing you'll want her seal of approval on anything before you and your family joins us?"
He nods, "I don't know you, and I have ample reason to doubt women claiming they want what's best for me and my species. However, I trust Caroline implicitly, and I know that she will ensure the best and fairest system for all."
Caroline's eyes water and she blinks, ducking her head to pretend to look under the table while clearing her throat but she doubts either of them really buy her act.
Annabelle finishes her tea and places her spoon on the plate in a very precise manner.
"Very well," she stands and the two of them rise with her, "We have a deal."
She shakes Klaus' hand and holds Caroline's a moment longer, "I look forward to working with you, Ms Forbes."
"Same to you." She murmurs pleasantly, waiting until the woman has walked out of the bar before turning to her boyfriend.
"I need a drink," she tells him, moving to the bar and pointing out the tequila to Cami as she walked.
"Are you alright, my love?" Klaus asked, watching with concern as she took the shot glass and threw back the liquor in a fluid movement.
"I should have conferred with you before speaking." He admits, chastising himself and she notes that he's admitting his perceived mistakes out loud which is another mark of progress in their relationship.
Big day for them.
"I'm actually pretty okay with this," she promises him, even as she's signalling to Cami for another shot,
"But are you? I mean, when all's said and done, I might have more power in this thing than you."
He smirks and takes his own shot of tequila, "Good, that's how I'll know it's the right decision,"
"Besides," he adds, grimacing as he swallows the shot, "It takes a real king to kneel to his queen."
She pulls him close by his shirt front and steals a quick kiss.
Unfortunately, for all their talk of royalty and power, they still end up screwing in an alleyway like a pair of commoners.
A/N- Let me know what you think!