She was led down the stairs and into the yard.
There was a commotion outside. The soldiers had started celebrating their victory. Corpses covered the ground, in some places they were even piled up on each other. The stench of blood, smoke and alcohol lingered in the air, blending into a distinctive smell that she knew she would never forget again. She covered her nose and her mouth in an attempt to keep it away, but the air left a taste in her mouth that almost made her vomit. She felt as if something evil, something rotting was entering her body and her mind and there was nothing she could do about it.
Her vision grew hazy as she tried not to look at the bodies. She didn't want to recognize anybody. The whole scene seemed surreal to her.
Her dream had seemed more real to her than this.
But for some reason her legs moved on their own as he led her outside, his hand still on her waist.
She saw something familiar in the corner of her eye and she felt her stomach drop, horror claiming her chest. She stopped breathing.
No.
No.
Don't look.
But despite herself, her head turned on its own and her eyes widened as her dreadful suspicion proved to be true.
Matt.
The kind stall boy that had made her time at the Lockwood court so much easier, especially in the first few months. Despite his status, he had been Tyler's best friend since childhood. The two of them had spent it playing knights in the hay of the stall, learnt riding together until Carol had forbidden most of their contact.
Sweet, gentle Matt's corpse lay on the ground before her.
She could see his gut bulging out of the gashing wound in his side.
His eyes were still open.
Her legs gave up beneath her and she would have fallen to the ground if Klaus hadn't caught her.
She felt his gaze on her, but she didn't turn to look at him, sobs wracking her body.
Of all people he did not deserve this.
"Let go of me!" she yelled and to her surprise, he did.
She stumbled to her knees before the body, hands desperately grasping for the fabric of his shirt.
This had to be a dream.
At this point she would have gladly exchanged her nightmare for her reality. If she could have died for him she would have.
Teardrops fell from her eyes to his open chest and she almost threw up as her wide eyes raced over the wounds.
"Matt…" she whispered. "No…."
But this was her reality now. This was no nightmare.
And all she could do was try and find Vicki and Anna, to see if they were still alive.
She felt herself sobering up. The sense of helplessness, the surreal quality of the scene faded. They were replaced by bitterness and anger mixing with her grief and strangely enough she also felt a sense of emptiness. Trying to escape the situation, denying reality by not facing it was not going to lead anywhere.
This was how it was going to be.
Slowly she sat up, wiping the tears off her face.
Matt should have lived long and died a peaceful death.
He was staring up at her, the emptiness of death in his eyes and she felt as if it was the exact same sensation that was growing in her chest. Yes, something had died in her this night.
Gently she brought her hand up to his face and closed his eyes. Then she leant down and pressed a small kiss to his forehead.
"Goodnight, Matty," she whispered, taking a last long look at his face.
Slowly, she got back up on her now steady feet and turned back to her captor, a sense of righteous anger burning in her. He hadn't moved from his spot and looked at her with an unreadable expression.
She was standing up straight, her accusing gaze fixed on his.
"You did this," she stated, her voice harsh and clinical.
He raised his eyebrows and licked his lips.
"It's what I do, sweetheart. I'm afraid this is just collateral damage, nothing personal."
She scoffed and shook her head, eyes still fixed on his.
This was a merciless man, someone who didn't care the least bit about the pain he caused with his actions. A man of war.
"At least let me find my other friends," she spat and didn't even wait for his response as she turned around and looked around in search for familiar faces.
She wasn't trying to shield herself anymore. She recognized a few corpses. She felt nothing. She accepted the information as swiftly and clinically as if it was about the weather.
There was a group of survivors, prisoners, guarded by a few of the soldiers. Despite her detached state, a small sensation of relief rushed over her as she spotted both Anna and Vicki alive, dresses ripped, but at least physically unharmed.
She rushed forward, crying out their names.
The two girls instantly turned their heads, clearly surprised and relieved at her arrival. Vicki tried to make her way towards her but was roughly stopped by one of the guards.
A smug, filthy smile spread on the face of another one, as Caroline reached them.
He grabbed her by the upper arm, shamelessly eyeing her up and down.
"Now what do we have here…" he said, but before he could continue yanking her towards him, she was ripped from his grasp and then he was on the ground, hands covering a bloody nose.
Beside her stood Klaus, his expression seemingly calm and collected. But in his eyes she saw a cold, lethal rage, that instantly sent fear racing through her again.
The commotion around them had grown silent and as she looked around, she realized that all eyes were fixed on Klaus. Among them she spotted Damon. Instantly, she looked away, more fear shooting through her.
Klaus turned his head towards the crowd. He raised his voice. His tone was slightly sarcastic, almost bored, but conveyed a distinct sense of unquestionable authority.
"She is a war prisoner and not to be harmed. The next one that touches her loses his head."
Nobody spoke or even dared to whisper.
She looked up at him, a big frown on her face.
He looked back at her, his expression still unreadable. The cold fury disappeared from his eyes the moment their gazes met, and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. There was something about him that drew her to him, something she couldn't quite pin point.
He was clearly in a leading position.
If she was only a prisoner, why would he hit one of his own men in order to make his point that she was not to be touched?
"Caroline," Vicki's alarmed voice broke the moment and she turned her head.
She realized that the crowd had started going about their business again.
Vicki threw herself at Caroline, and she returned the embrace. She was less detached, felt a little more now, she realized, as she experienced a considerable amount of relief.
"I thought you had died. I thought you had died for me," Vicki sobbed and Caroline tried to comfort her by caressing the back of her head.
"No, it's okay. I'm just so glad you're alright."
Anna stepped up behind her, an empty look eyes.
"Are you okay?" Caroline asked.
The look in her eyes betrayed that something had happened to her. She looked detached, but as always, also proud. Caroline saw that she was holding her dress together, it was ripped to shreds. They exchanged a long look and Caroline's stomach sank.
Finally, Anna spoke up. "My mother is still alive. I will be alright."
Caroline nodded, gesturing for her to join the embrace and she did.
And for now, amongst Vicki and Anna, she felt a sense of comfort.
At least not everything was lost.
At some point, Klaus held a short speech, announcing his victory, thanking his knights for their performance and promising rewards for their loyalty.
He was a good speaker, obviously delighting not only in the bloodshed but also in his position as a leader. It only made her stomach turn as she watched his men holler to the words that announced that she was standing in the ruins of her own future.
She felt herself growing increasingly tired, both emotionally and physically.
When Klaus ended his speech saying they would head back home the next day, she realized that the challenges of this night were far from over.
What kind of plans had he made for her?
She fought down the fear and tried to appear stronger than she felt, standing up straight and keeping her head held high.
After drinking and talking with a few of his higher rank knights – with an uneasiness she realized that Damon was among them – he approached her.
She did her best not to recoil and forced herself not to look away.
"Come with me," he commanded and deciding that resistance was futile, she did as she was told.
They both knew there was no place she could run to, with all of his knights knowing who she was.
She followed him back into the castle, to the sleeping charters of her deceased in-laws.
The uneasiness she felt grew with every step she took.
She halted in front of the door, finding herself unable to step inside. He grabbed her by the arm and gently pulled her inside, closing the door behind them.
She took a few steps away from him, trying to put as much distance between them as possible and eyed him carefully.
To her horror, she watched him rid himself of his armor, revealing a simple thin set of trousers and a shirt. He picked up a pair of shoes that had obviously been put there for him.
Then he walked over to a table where an array of foods was set.
She stayed where she was, watching him with a frown on her face.
"Sit," he ordered, looking back at her and reluctantly she moved towards the table, sitting down opposite of him.
He gestured towards the food. "Eat."
She looked down at it and felt her stomach turn again. The stench of death still held her in its grasp, making it impossible to even imagine eating without having to hold back the nausea. She shook her head.
He frowned at her. "Eat," he repeated. "You had a rather exhausting night."
She scoffed and fixed her gaze back on his, not hiding her disgust. "To be honest I'd rather throw up than eat right now."
He only raised his eyebrows and sighed, then started eating himself.
She watched him, her frown deepening. She felt misplaced.
She was sitting in the room of her now dead in-laws, barely having survived a night of fear, loss and carnage and was watching her captor eat.
He raised his head, his gaze burning into her.
"There is something we need to discuss," he said, his voice clinical.
She scoffed. "Yes, there is. What do you mean by 'war prisoner'?"
He smirked. "It means you are a prisoner of value."
Her frown deepened even more. "So what do you plan to do to me?" she asked, her upper lip curled up in revulsion.
His gaze darkened a little and he looked less amused. "I let you live," he stated, his voice harsh. She froze. "I'd ask you to watch your tone. I've told you before, I'm not a patient man."
She glowered at him, anger taking over again, blocking out the fear.
She didn't really have much left to lose anyway. And being angry felt like a much better option than being afraid.
"Yeah? You killed my friend and my fiancé. My maid was raped. You destroyed my life. I still don't even know why. And I have no idea what you plan on doing to me. Excuse me, but your patience isn't exactly the first thing on my mind."
He raised his eyebrows in astonishment. Then, from one moment to the next his gaze darkened considerably and he leant forward in a threatening manner. "It should be," he simply said and pinned her with his gaze a little longer before resuming eating.
She held her breath, forcing any further comment down, and waited for him to continue talking.
"I have an offer to make to you," he began, having calmed down a bit.
He laid down his cutlery, seemingly finished with his meal.
"An offer you cannot refuse." There was a glint of excitement in his eyes.
She crossed her arms and waited for him to elaborate.
"You see, I am an ambitious man. For the last few years I have been building an army big and strong enough to conquer pretty much any kingdom on the continent."
He sat back, watching her while he spoke, a smirk spreading on his face.
"Coincidentally, the Forbes kingdom is one of the next on my list."
She froze, her eyes widening. Images raced through her head. She did have something to lose. The idea of reliving this night, of the stench of death covering the place she had called home for most of her life, inspired a whole new dimension of fear in her.
No.
"Relax, love," he said dismissively, and she realized her hands were clutching to the table. The offer, right.
He leant forward, his gaze growing even more intense. She had never met anyone who held such an influence over her with only the way he looked at her. She felt trapped.
"I imagine you want to evade this prospect at all costs. Fortunately, there is a way both you and me get what we want."
She stared back at him, holding her breath in anticipation of what was to come. His smirk grew and he almost seemed giddy with excitement.
"You become my wife, I become the heir of the Forbes kingdom and there is no bloodshed necessary."