A/N: My second drabble for the klaroline vacay event for hissaviorqueen.

Summary: When Princess Caroline finds out that the tournament her kingdom is hosting is a competition for her hand in marriage, she's less than pleased. When she finds out that her father, King William Forbes II, had organized said tournament to make sure that the crass, arrogant, Prince Niklaus would win, she's leaning further towards furious. Will her first impression of Prince Niklaus turn out to be accurate, or will the Princess get the happy ending she's always craved?

Enjoy!
-Angie

"He fights well," King William said out of the corner of his mouth, keeping his face stoic so that the people around them would think that he was watching silently as he was supposed to.

Although, really, he was the king. He could do whatever he wanted.

"Yes, well, he has to have at least one good quality," Caroline mumbled back.

"You are not fond of him?"

"Not in the least."

"Well, it's unfortunate that's the case, as he seems to have an excellent chance of winning."

"Why would the likelihood of him winning the tournament be relevant to my opinion of him?" Caroline asked sharply, almost forgetting that she couldn't obviously speak.

William remained silent, and Caroline felt dread well up in her stomach, her expression souring. "If it wasn't treason I would try to stab you in the stomach with my shoe."

"And why is that?" her father asked, giving her his best innocent eyes.

"You're going to marry me off to whomever wins, aren't you?"

"We'll speak of this later."

She frowned and was about to insist that no, they were going to talk about it right this second, but was interrupted by Stefan. "Are you well, sister?"

"I'm feeling a bit ill, actually," she said primly, smoothing her skirt as she stood up and let him lead her to where the rest of the family was sitting. She was thankful that she was able to speak to him openly, since he was allowed to speak during the tournament, though Damon shot them an exasperated look from Stefan's other side.

Caroline scowled at him quickly, turning back to Stefan before anyone else could notice her unladylike expression. Damon was arrogant and rude, and of her two brothers, was definitely her least favorite. Unfortunately, he was also the heir to the throne. Stefan, despite the fact that he would be ten times the king Damon ever could, was the spare, and she was...Well, she was tempted to say 'just there', because 'a piece of meat to be auctioned off to the most affluent lord' didn't exactly rhyme.

Either way, she'd rather poke her eye out with her tiara than marry Niklaus Mikaelson, which seemed to be her father's plan. If it had to be one of the Mikaelson sons, she would have preferred Finn or Elijah, both of whom had mistresses they were in love with (the worst-kept secret in the kingdom), and would have left her well alone after she had a child.

Prince Niklaus, though (or 'Klaus' as he'd repeatedly asked her to call him), might have been the most infuriating, arrogant human being that she'd ever met (and she lived with Damon, who really was a piece of work).

Caroline smiled at Stefan briefly when he patted her knee before turning back to the tournament they were watching. Everything made more sense now, really. She'd been very busy for the last week, somehow ending up with every minute being scheduled for something, and now she knew why. Her father hadn't wanted her to know that the tournament was going to be for her hand.

And really, she didn't blame him, because she was furious.

Klaus had always been the best fighter of the lords who came from the neighboring countries to participate in the tournaments, and he had always been the one her father had his eye on to be a match for her. Her father had clearly orchestrated the tournament to give Klaus an advantage. William loved Caroline, and it was well-known that she was his favorite of his three children. Klaus was the only son of King Ansel III, and therefore was both the next in line for the throne of the neighboring country, and the perfect candidate for a political marriage.

And if King William II loved anything more than his daughter, it was power.

Caroline resisted the urge to curl her lip as Klaus won his match and had the audacity to wink at her before he left the tournament arena to await his next opponent.

"Your face will freeze that way," Stefan teased softly, and she let her face fall into a small smile, elbowing her brother lightly in the side.

"At least my face shows emotion. Yours is always serious."

Stefan hummed to show he'd heard, his eyes narrowed as he watched the newest match.

"Did you know?" Caroline asked, her voice vulnerable.

"Know what?"

"Did you know that the tournament was to be for my hand?"

"Of course."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"Because it was what Father asked."

"But I deserved to know. I don't want to leave the kingdom with a man I barely know," Caroline said angrily.

"Perhaps he didn't speak of it because he knew you would throw a tantrum," Damon said pointedly from Stefan's other side.

"I am not throwing a tantrum. I am simply expressing my displeasure."

"Your tone and teeth-grinding say otherwise. Perhaps I should call for Olivia to fetch you a drink?"

"No, thank you," Caroline said, trying to keep her voice even as she turned back to the tournament.

Now that she was paying more attention, she realized that the tournament was being held in the three areas that Klaus excelled in. It was obviously tailored to guarantee him the win. She felt her stomach roll.

"How long is the tournament?" she asked quietly.

"It should last until just before sunset."

Caroline resisted the urge to groan. Another three or four hours of watching the tournament when she already knew her fate.

"Perhaps I am in need of the drink you offered, Damon."

XXX

"Princess, may I introduce you to Prince Niklaus of the Northeast Kingdom."

His portrait hadn't done him justice, she decided. She had heard that he was handsome, but she felt a bit of nervousness bubble up in her as he gave her a dimpled smile.

"A pleasure, Prince Niklaus," Caroline greeted, nodding her head and dipping into a short curtsy.

"Prince Niklaus, may I present Princess Caroline of the South Kingdom."

"It is an honor to meet you, Princess," he said before he pressed a fleeting brush of his lips against her knuckles.

She gave him a shy smile, which he returned. "May I have a dance with you?"

Caroline glanced quickly at her father, who nodded, clearly pleased with the situation.

"You are a beautiful woman, Caroline."

"Thank you?" she half-asked, allowing him to lead her across the dance floor.

"And a lovely dancer as well."

"Thank you. I've had training."

"Clearly. Are you enjoying the ball?"

"Though I do enjoy dancing, I am not quite so fond of balls. I find them rather boring and tiring."

"I do assure you that there are types of balls that are most certainly not boring, though most definitely as tiring, if used correctly," he said, giving her a quick wink.

She pressed her lips together angrily, knowing her face must be flushing in anger and embarrassment. "You should not speak to a lady that way," she hissed.

"I'm sorry to have offended you, Princess," he said, looking completely unapologetic, his eyes twinkling with laughter.

She couldn't leave the dancefloor in the middle of a dance without causing a scene, so she simply huffed and turned up her nose slightly.

"Now, love, don't be angry. Perhaps that was in poor taste, but–"

"Do not call me love. You may address me by my title or not at all, Prince Niklaus," she said sharply.

"My apologies, Princess," he said, the way her title rolled off his tongue making her stomach clench in an unfamiliar but pleasurable way.

She fought down a blush and nodded, choosing not to acknowledge his apology beyond that, and he seemed to take that as a good sign. "Will you tell me about yourself, Princess?"

"There isn't very much to know, I'm afraid," she said slowly, her expression calculating.

What was his goal by talking to her? Was he simply trying to get to know her? He seemed too familiar with her for that to be the case.

"Please, you must have dreams. Hobbies. Anything?"

"I enjoy riding horses, I suppose," she admitted. "And walking in the gardens."

"That's lovely. Perhaps we could go riding or for a walk sometime."

"That's rather forward of you," she said quietly.

"I should be, if I hope to snatch up a woman such as yourself before others come even close."

"I am not a prize to be taken at the earliest opportunity, Prince Niklaus," she said, her voice icy.

"I suppose not," he said, though his tone had more humor than contrition.

She was thankful when the song ended and she could break away.

"Thank you for the dance, Princess."

"Pleasure," she ground out, walking back to her father a bit faster than was socially acceptable.

XXX

"Princess," Klaus greeted with a small bow, giving her a dimpled smile.

She offered her hand, as was the custom, and he took it and kissed her knuckles almost reverently, his gaze never leaving her face.

"Prince Niklaus," she said coldly, moving her hand from his the second it would be socially appropriate to do so. "My congratulations on your performance today. You fought well."

"Perhaps that is because you were worth fighting for."

She suppressed a rather unladylike snort of derision, instead nodding once and choking out a rather strained but polite 'thank you'.

"I speak only the truth. Would you join me for a dance, Caroline?"

"You may address me by my title if you wish to converse with me."

Klaus's lips twitched at her words, which were so similar to the ones used barely three years before during their disastrous first meeting. "Princess, then. Join me for a dance?"

She put her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, where they easily fell into step with the rest of the guests.

"My father wishes for the wedding to be as soon as possible."

"How convenient for you," she bit out, and Klaus sighed.

"Caroline, it is simply because I am his only heir, and I have no children to succeed me. I do admit that I am more than content with this situation, but I do not want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Well, perhaps you should find a woman who wishes to lay with you, as just the idea of it makes me uncomfortable."

She fought back a wince as his eyes flashed with anger, and he tightened his grip just a bit around her hand as he led her through the steps. "As my wife, you have certain responsibilities, and–"

"I am not your wife."

"You will be," Klaus said calmly, loosening his grip on her hand when he saw the look of surprise on her face. "I am still unsure as to what you object to, Princess. Giving me your hand will make you a Queen. In addition, I care for you deeply, and unlike many men, I will never lay a hand on you in anger. I will promise you that."

"I care not for your crown or your titles, and you barely know me well enough to care at all."

"Fair enough. But still, you haven't answered my question. What do you object to?"

"I always knew that my marriage had very little chance of being a real love match, but you are not someone I feel as though I could love, and I believe that is a disservice to both of us."

"I believe you are doing a disservice to yourself by not being willing to try," he said quietly before spinning her around and catching her at the waist again.

"Perhaps I am, or perhaps you've just never given me a reason to. Your crudeness when we met overshadows any possible affection I may have had."

"How many times must I apologize for my rudeness before you accept it?" he asked, giving her a long-suffering wide-eyed expression.

"However long it takes for me to forgive you, I suppose," she said, trying to keep her voice from being too irritated.

"Why are you so unwilling to take a chance?"

She pressed her lips together as the song slowed to the end. "We are to be married soon. You could always attempt to change my mind?" she half-asked.

"It would be my pleasure," he said, and she was a bit unnerved by the genuine affection in his eyes as he led her back to the side of the room and kissed her knuckles again, excusing himself a moment later as Stefan approached to stand beside her.

"That seemed to have gone better than the last few times," he said.

"Well, it's not as though it could have gone any worse," she bit out. "He's still as arrogant and thoughtless as ever."

"I'm not sure that's true. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, Sister," Stefan said, shooting her a knowing smile.

"Perhaps more than I have before. Still, though, that's not saying much."

"I suppose not."

"Do you know anything about the date of the wedding?"

"If I hear anything I will tell you," Stefan reassured her.

She nodded, smiling softly when Tyler Lockwood, the knight Klaus had narrowly beaten for the championship, approached. "Your Highness," he greeted, bowing. "May I have a dance?"

Both of them looked to Stefan, who gave a sort-of careless shrug and waved them off. She wasn't all that fond of Tyler, over the past few years since she'd approached marrying age, he'd been almost insufferable with his requests to her father for her hand, and Caroline wasn't all that happy that Stefan had said yes (especially since she was now, unfortunately, an engaged woman), but it wasn't as though he could make any advances anymore.

Perhaps a year or two ago she would have happily married Tyler, but if she was honest with herself, she would have been bored out of her mind. At least Klaus was interesting.

A crass, arrogant bastard, but interesting.

XXX

The last few weeks had passed in a whirlwind of wedding preparations. She sat through awkward talks with old, female relatives she didn't know she had about how to get pregnant as quickly as possible. One of them winked and told her she might want to hold off just to 'enjoy it while she could', and she had trouble restraining a rather unladylike scowl. She felt a bit sad as she helped pack her belongings to move to the Northeast Kingdom.

The wedding had been a blur as well, the only things she remembered were agreeing to her vows and the way Klaus looked at her, as though he was drinking her in with his eyes, and it somehow hadn't made her feel uncomfortable at all. They'd had dinner and driven off in the carriage for the barely two-hour journey to his family's castle, where he'd moved two years before when his mother had confessed his real identity on her deathbed.

Now, though, she stood in front of the mirror in her new bathroom (their bathroom?), wondering if it was normal to feel absolutely nauseated on your wedding night.

"Caroline, love?"

She felt her breath catch as Klaus knocked softly on the door. "Just a minute," she said, taking a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

She heard the door creak, and she turned around to see that Klaus had pushed it open just a bit. "Caroline, may I come in?"

"Why?"

"Because you're upset," he said simply, and she sniffled and nodded before realizing that he couldn't see her nod.

"Come in, then."

He entered and walked up to her. She flinched when he reached out, but quickly relaxed when he simply wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. "It's all right, sweetheart, just breathe."

"I'm sorry, I just–"

"Don't be sorry, love," he said softly, still almost infuriatingly sympathetic, rubbing her back over the white fabric of her dress. "We don't have to tonight."

"Yes we do," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm your wife, I have...It's my responsibility as you so kindly pointed out just a few weeks ago."

"To bear my children? Yes. To lay with me on our wedding night when you're clearly absolutely terrified? No."

She scoffed, her face still buried in his shoulder, almost absentmindedly inhaling his scent. She felt so safe with his arms around her, and she felt like she fit so perfectly against him. "They're going to check the sheets," she mumbled against the fabric of his tunic.

"A little cut will fix that," he said soothingly. "Jenna has laid out a nightdress for you, you'll meet her in the morning, she's in charge of the servants and will tend to you personally. Do you need assistance undressing? I can call her."

"No," Caroline said moving away slightly so that her shaky voice was at least audible. "I will be able to do it myself."

"All right. I'll wait out here for you," he offered, walking back to the bedroom and plucking the nightdress that had been hanging over the chair to hand it to her.

She nodded and closed the bathroom door again, setting the nightdress down and carefully unlacing the wedding dress as best she could. It took some creative twisting and arm movements, but she managed to get it off without ripping it, and she pulled on the nightdress and washed her face before walking back into the bedroom.

Klaus was waiting for her, barefoot and in only light trousers and a shirt. "Would you like help with your hair?"

She'd almost forgotten the complicated design her hair had been arranged in, and her hand flew up to brush the pins inserted in it. "Yes, please."

He walked to her and began to methodically unwrap it.

"How do you know how to do this?" she asked as he carefully unwound a pin that could have pulled very harshly at her scalp if he hadn't done it right.

"My sister Rebekah often asked me to help her. She disliked many of the maids assigned to her and was rather adamant that her directions be followed."

Caroline laughed, almost surprising herself, and she sighed in relief when her hair spilled down her back. He was smiling at her when she turned, and she let him guide her to the bed, pressing herself against the pillows as he took one of the pins that had been in her hair off the side table and returned to her, sitting on the bed. He scraped the pin across his palm and squeezed his fist so that a few drops fell on the sheets. "They'll never know the difference," he said, putting the pin on the side table and laying down beside her. "May I turn off the light?"

"Yes."

He blew out the torch and the room was plunged into darkness. His breathing had nearly evened when she screwed up the nerve to speak again. "Niklaus?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Thank you."

He was silent for a few moments, and she was almost about to fill the silence again, feeling awkward, when he spoke. "I want you to be happy, Caroline. Never be afraid to ask me to comply with your wishes. The worst I could do is say no, and I doubt that will happen much."

"All right," she agreed, settling back against the pillows and falling into an easy sleep.

XXX

The morning after they were married they woke tangled together in the sheets, and she blushed bright red when she opened her eyes and found herself comfortably wedged against him while he watched her with a small, amused smile.

He told her that he had some business that morning but would be back in the afternoon, and she nodded, resting in bed as he got ready and left before washing and dressing. She met Jenna, who gave her a tour of the castle. Caroline helped unpack her belongings, something that made the servants nervous, but she knew that if she hadn't told them where to put her things, she would have had to rearrange them later.

Klaus finally returned a few minutes after she'd hung up the last dress in the closet, and he smiled as he walked in, closing the door.

"How are you feeling? Any better?"

"Yes. I think so," she said slowly.

His eyes raked over her form, and she bit her lip as she looked down at herself to see what he was looking at. "Do I have something on my dress?" she asked, half-hesitant and half-concerned, still feeling a bit awkward from the night before.

"No, not at all," he said. "You're beautiful."

Klaus's voice was thick, and when she locked gazes with him she found dark, lustful eyes. Caroline felt an ache begin to build in her lower belly, a flush filling her cheeks. "Niklaus?"

He walked to her, and she tilted her head as he cupped her cheek, leaning into his touch, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheekbone.

"When we first met at the ball, I felt drawn to you. Your smile was so bright, and you just seemed so happy. I admit that I wasn't as polite or nearly as respectful as you deserved, and I do apologize for that, but you attracted my attention. After you so neatly rebuffed my advances, I learned all that I could about you, and when I heard that there was to be a tournament for your hand, I could not resist the opportunity."

She bit her lip, feeling slightly taken aback by his confession.

"May I kiss you?"

He looked almost hungry, his stare consuming and filling her with a strange, tugging heat. "Yes," she said softly, and he bent to press his lips against her.

It was electric, the light pressure of his lips moving softly against hers making her shiver as his hands moved from her cheeks to her shoulders, down her sides, eventually settling on her waist. She felt like every single one of her nerves was on fire, every inch of her burning for the brush of his fingers against her skin.

She wound her fingers into his shirt as she failed to hold back a soft, needy moan, and felt him stiffen slightly, pulling back. "What's the matter?" she asked, a bit alarmed.

Had she done something wrong?

"I want you, Caroline," he said, his voice thick and rough with need. "But I don't want to make you uncomf–"

"Just go slow," she interrupted, letting her eyelids flutter closed and laying her forehead against his. "That felt...good."

A wicked grin spread across his face as he pulled back to look at her as though checking to make sure she was being honest, before he set his hands on her waist. "Are you certain, sweetheart?"

"Yes," she said softly. "I'm sure."

His lips covered hers again, firm and insistent, his hands squeezing her hips, making her moan.

He pulled back to press soft kisses to the corner of her mouth and across her cheeks, flicking his tongue over the skin of her jaw.

She felt his stubble brush pleasurably against her skin, tilting her head to the side as he lightly scraped his teeth across her earlobe. She felt jolts of pleasure hit her core, her hands grasping at his tunic just for something to anchor herself as he ran his tongue along the skin of her neck.

She moaned, the sound almost embarrassingly loud, and she felt him smirk against her as her breathing became increasingly ragged.

His hands moved up her torso to palm her breasts through the bodice of her gown, and she arched her back, her hands moving to tangle in his hair as he nosed at her temple, nibbling lightly at her ear.

"Niklaus…" she panted, her voice throaty and thick with need as he pinched her nipples again through the fabric of her dress, the unexpected mix of pleasurable pain making her gasp. He reached up to gently pry her fingers away from his hair, moving them to the fabric of his tunic covering his shoulders.

"Are you enjoying this, Caroline?" he asked, pulling back, his lips brushing her skin as he spoke.

Another wanton moan fell from her lips in lieu of an answer when his tongue darted out to run against the shell of her ear, and she nodded, unable to suppress the redness she knew was staining her cheeks.

"I love how your skin flushes so easily from my touch," he whispered, his hot breath caressing her ear, and she shivered, her grip on his tunic tightening. "The way my name spills from your lips when we've barely even begun."

The ache building within her was so intense it was almost painful, and she could feel the inside of her thighs becoming slick with her arousal. "Niklaus, I need…" she trailed off as he bit her lightly on the neck, making her cry out, her fingernails scratching down his back.

"You asked for slow," he reminded her, his voice thick with lust.

"Too slow," she gasped out. "Touch me, please."

She felt his lips curl into a smile and she cried out as he ripped her dress down the seam and the air hit her skin, her nipples pebbling from the sudden change. He bent to kiss her again, palming her breasts and nudging her legs apart with his thigh.

She instinctually ground her hips against him and he pulled away, a wicked grin spreading across his face as she whined softly at the loss of contact. "Are you going to beg for me, Caroline? Scream for me?"

She didn't have time to answer before he was kissing her again, tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth, making her gasp, and she felt his erection pressing into her thigh, straining against the fabric of his pants, which were rough against her bare skin. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, her waist, her hips, her thighs, her breasts, her skin tingling from the light brush of his fingers against her. She opened her mouth to allow his tongue to push between her lips as he gently took her hand and moved it to the bulge of his hard cock.

She palmed him through the fabric experimentally, taking immense satisfaction in the way he growled against her mouth, pulling away to tug the tunic over his head and drop it to the ground. He cupped her cheeks with his palms as he fused their lips together again, his hips jerking to rub himself against her light strokes. She let out a small gasp of surprise when he lifted her and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her the short distance to the bed, laying her gently against the mattress. He kissed her quickly again before falling to his knees, and her eyes widened slightly as she fought to keep her jaw from slackening.

Future Kings did not kneel before anyone.

And yet, there he was, his slightly amused expression indicating that he knew exactly what was going through her mind as he helped her move to sit at the very edge of the mattress, dropping soft kisses on her inner thighs. His gaze was locked on hers, and she couldn't look away as his mouth moved closer to her center, and she felt her body quivering with anticipation, and she watched him, wide-eyed as he licked his lips before pushing her thighs more firmly apart and just lightly stroking her clit with his tongue.

Her body tightened as she immediately felt something within her snap, and she was soon writhing against his mouth, screaming his name, uncaring of how loud she surely was being, her eyes squeezed shut. She almost sobbed in pleasure as her walls clenched intensely around empty air, the slick trail of his tongue tracing her entrance.

"Did you enjoy my mouth on you as I promised, my princess?" he asked, eyes dark, his voice caressing the title, lips shining with her arousal.

She nodded, a bit numbly, not trusting herself to speak, and he stood, letting his trousers fall to the floor, taking her hand again and pressing her palm against his erection. She wrapped her hand around him, smiling at the low groan that fell from him as she experimentally began to move her hand along his length. "That's it, sweetheart," he said through gritted teeth, his hands moving to grip her shoulders for balance. "Stroke my cock."

She bit her lip as he jerked his hips against her palm. "Shall I lie back?" she asked in a rush, almost too quietly and too quickly for him to understand, pulling her hand away.

"If you'd like," he said, the weight of the words not lost on either of them.

He released her shoulders and she moved back against the pillows, her hair splayed around her, and he moved on top of her, supporting himself on his elbows.

"You are so beautiful, sweetheart," he said, pressing light kisses all over her face and neck. "I love the sounds you make for me when I brush my lips across your skin, the way your eyes close as your back arches from my touch."

She couldn't help but let out a moan as he sucked on her pulse point, and she almost instinctively spread her legs when he trailed a fingertip up her inner thigh.

She gasped as he pushed one finger inside of her wet heat, and then another, hooking them to brush against a particularly sensitive spot, making her roll her hips against his hand.

She whined softly when he pulled away before gasping as he positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock pushing lightly against her.

Caroline spread her legs just a bit more, lifting her hips, and hissed when he pushed inside, waiting for the sharp stab of pain that the other women had warned her of. It wasn't as bad as she expected, just a twinge, and she let out a rush of air.

"Caroline? Are you all right?" Klaus prompted, his voice strained.

"Yes. Move."

She rolled her hips to meet his as he slowly began to move, their bodies instinctively finding a rhythm as she squeezed her eyes shut, her back arched, hands scratching his back. His cock was thick and hard inside of her, and she'd never felt so full, so complete.

She felt her stomach tighten as he built her up to her second release, and he seemed to be barely holding on as he waited for her to clench around him, spilling inside just just moments after she gasped out to him that she was coming.

He relaxed against her, pressing a light kiss to her lips before rolling off of her pulling her so that her head rested against him, an arm slung almost possessively over her waist. Both of their chests rising and falling with their ragged breathing.

"That was not at all as uncomfortable as it was described," Caroline said as her breathing evened.

She looked over to him in surprise when he laughed. "I should hope not, considering your reactions when I touched you."

She felt the all-too-familiar blush stain her cheeks again, and he grinned moving just a bit closer to pull her against him. "Do not be embarrassed, sweetheart."

She just buried her face more firmly into his chest, and she heard him chuckle. "Are you tired?"

Caroline nodded against him. "Very much so. Perhaps we could rest for just a little while?"

"Anything you wish, my princess."

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :)
Hugs!
-Angie