AN: Did you miss me? I certainly missed you all and this story! I'm so sorry it took literally a year to get this chapter to you. I just needed a break from writing for my sanity; hopefully you understand. I'm still really rusty getting back into writing, so I hope that this chapter isn't too OOC or anything. Apologies in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes, I looked it over in a hurry before I lost my nerve to post!

A huge thanks to Belle (missingstars89) for beta work and encouraging me, and also to Laine (lalainajanes) and Kate (accidental-rambler) for talking me down from the edge when I was getting too anxious about posting! See you on the other side :)

Chapter 21

"A promotion?" Stefan asked blankly, his shock obvious. "To captain? Really?"

Caroline smiled fondly at him. "Really. You've earned it, Stefan."

They were in one of the smaller receiving rooms off of the throne room, Stefan standing before his king and queen. Once more, he was struck by how well they looked together-the ageless hybrid and his vivacious witch. If he had had any doubts as to whether Caroline could handle a life beside Klaus Mikaelson, a glance at their barely-clasped hands laid them to rest.

Now he bowed to his strong cousin, Marcel's warning still ringing in his ears. Not to mention the fact that he would be thrown into Damon's company again. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," he said, bowing respectfully to the king, "but why me? Surely there are others more capable?"

Klaus regarded him over steepled fingers. "I can think of none better to lead my armies than the man who saved the life of my sister, and my whole family."

Stefan stood straighter. "Your Majesty, it was nothing-"

"I know what you think of me, Salvatore. The hybrid king who seeks only his own gain at the expense of all else, who murders and schemes and tortures his way to power; and in this, you are quite correct," Klaus interrupted smoothly. "However, I am not so barbaric that I forget those who pledge their allegiance to my family, or fail to reward that allegiance." He smirked. "Besides, Caroline insisted you were the man for the job."

Caroline flinched at Stefan's pointed glare. "I know you will do us justice, Stefan."

Stefan hesitated. Marcel's threat was very real, and although he knew Elena could take care of herself, he had no desire to see her caught in the crossfire of Marcel and his games.

And Damon...well, Damon would likely ignore his existence whether he accepted the position or not, which was hardly comforting.

Still...Caroline was looking so pleased, and her smile was so expectant.

Stefan groaned internally. He could never say no to Caroline when she looked like that, so young and joyful and bright.

Slowly, he saluted the king. "I am at your service, Your Majesty, and I thank you for your generosity."

"Well then," Klaus said, clapping his hands together, "we must have you installed at the palace as soon as possible, to start your new duties. I will give you three days before I expect you back here. Damon and Marcel will be delighted to have a new toy to break in."

Caroline glared at him, smoothing the skirt of her emerald-green dress with her hands. "I think what the king is trying to say is that we are glad to have you join us here."

"Indeed," Klaus grinned, taking Caroline's hand and kissing it. He nodded at Stefan, who promptly turned away, but not before exchanging a small smile with Caroline.

He sighed, and dearly hoped that he had made the right decision.

Ever since her first moment from being part of the Council, Caroline had immersed herself in studies: of magic, swordplay, and archery. Though Bonnie was in charge of her magical and mental training, Rebekah had taken an interest in her physical training.

"I'll not have you unable to defend yourself after that mess with the Devereax witch," she had said. "And I'd dearly like to see a more fair fight the next time you decide to kick Nik in the arse."

Now, after a grueling day of sparring that Rebekah had pushed her through, complete with Kol standing by and shouting out his usual quips, Caroline lay in the luxurious bath in her chambers. She scrubbed away the dust and grime, and was now relaxing her sore muscles in the warm water.

Alone with her thoughts, she couldn't help but reflect on how she had gotten here to this moment. Had it been mere months since she had lived her quiet life with Stefan? It seemed a lifetime ago. So much had happened-so much had changed, and yet, she didn't regret one moment. Yes, she had lost a life of comfort and safety, but what she had gained in exchange-a family, the power to help her city, a sense of purpose, and a husband who loved her with his every breath-was entirely worth every minute.

"My, my, what have we here?"

Caroline looked up at Klaus, shivering at the pure temptation of that voice, even after all this time. "An exhausted witch." She settled deeper into the water, groaning as her muscles tightened with the movement.

"Really?" Klaus mused, his eyes roving over her form. "I see a beautiful, if not grumpy, queen." He grinned at her answering grunt.

"You would be grumpy too if you'd been repeatedly thrown on your back for an entire morning," she grumbled. "Is your sister always so relentless?"

"You forget, Rebekah has four older brothers. Therefore, she had to be the best at everything to be able to hold her own against us." He leaned over her, giving her a swift kiss on her cheek.

She threw her arms around his neck, holding him to her, and their mouths met. Their lips moved with a searing passion, and Caroline felt dizzy from the heady feeling.

"Much as I would love to ravish you in this bath-and mark my words, I intend to follow through later-I thought you might like to accompany me on a ride," Klaus murmured, kissing her neck. "We're overdue for an appearance in the city. Nothing too dramatic, just taking in the sights in an open carriage, and remind the people we exist. "

"I'd love to," she whispered, running her hands through his hair with a sigh before he broke away from her. "Although the idea of you ravishing me right now is very appealing."

His eyes flicked down to her body, still mostly concealed by bubbles. "Tempting me, are we, little witch?"

In response, Caroline lifted one leg out of the water, running her hands along her calf, taunting him. Klaus followed the movement with eyes tinged with copper.

Caroline loved it when his wolf prowled close to the surface. It made their coupling much more intense, to say nothing of rough.

"Well?" she asked innocently, stretching her arms above her head. "Are you going to join me? The water's turning cold."

Klaus's iron-clad control snapped. He pulled her swiftly up by her arms, tugging her naked form firmly against his clothed body.

She kissed him, biting down on his lower lip, something she had learned quickly that he enjoyed. He dug his fingers into her hips, and she moaned at the delicious friction between them.

"I want skin," she breathed between kisses, hands pulling impatiently at his shirt.

"Not yet," he murmured forcefully, one hand closing around her breast and squeezing it with rough strokes.

Caroline thought she would burst from the pleasure then and there.

She was wrong; for no sooner had the thought registered in her head that Klaus stroked her slit with those clever artist's fingers, and she saw stars.

"My Caroline, so wet for me," Klaus whispered in her ear as he touched her so intimately. "I adore you like this, so breathless with wanting."

Caroline panted, her eyes closed, her hips rolling against every stroke of his fingers, the cloud of lust almost fully upon her-

-until suddenly she was standing alone, the cold air her only companion.

She opened her eyes.

Klaus stood once more by the entrance, with that mischievous look of his, every stitch of clothing in its proper place. "I'll meet you in the entrance hall in ten minutes then, sweetheart. And I do so admire your attempt at seduction; it was a valiant effort. Perhaps you will succeed tonight." With a bow and a triumphant smirk, he disappeared in a gust of air.

Frowning at being left on the brink of pleasure, Caroline cursed him soundly and slipped back into the water. "Damn teasing wolf." Still, she couldn't help but smile to herself at their little game, and wishing he had stayed to finish what they had started. She could imagine it now: Klaus would have taken her from the bath and pinned her to the wall, before putting his mouth on her, and that skillful tongue-

"Enjoying your naughty dream?"

Caroline shrieked, splashing water over the lip of the tub. "Katherine! Mind your manners!"

The pretty vampire laughed, folding her arms and raising her eyebrows in amusement. "I assume I just missed all the fun, as I just saw the king leave your chambers," Katherine said, looking positively gleeful. "I hope it was good."

"No, we weren't-"

"Yes, yes, deny it all you want, I know the truth. You are disgustingly in love with each other, I understand," Katherine said with a wave of her hand. "Now I suggest you dry off before your skin gets too prune-like. I've already laid out your riding clothes."

Caroline groaned. "Katherine, for the hundredth time, you know you don't need to help me dress. I am perfectly capable of it myself."

Throwing her the fluffy white towel. Katherine snorted. "Rubbish. You have the worst taste in fashion, and besides, it gives me something to do besides run about with the courtiers, or worse, Damon and Kol." She shuddered in horror, before they both burst into giggles.

"I'm so glad you're here with me, Kat." And she meant it, every word. Katherine was one of the few links to her old life, and despite her fondness for her new life and family, it was good to have the reminder of the past and its pleasant memories.

Katherine shrugged, but Caroline could tell she understood. "Well, who else is going to give you all the palace gossip?"

Eyes twinkling, Caroline shook her head. "Indeed."

Stefan sensed something was amiss the moment he stepped over the threshold into his home, exhausted from the day's work on the wall, and from his visit to the castle the day before. It was still rather incredible that he had been promoted, despite his relationship to Caroline; and although he was flattered and rather excited to begin, it was still a rather nerve-wracking concept. Of course, as soon as he remembered that he would be working more closely with Damon and Marcel, the enthusiasm inside him threatened to fade entirely.

But now, his whole body was on alert. Treading carefully, he moved through each room of the house slowly, eyes flicking over everything. Nothing looked out of place, not even the pile of dirty dishes on the table he had forgotten to clean last evening.

It was so strange. The protective spell around the house that he usually cast while he was away was intact; yet, he couldn't help but feel that something-or someone-had disturbed it. The air felt tense, not with its usual magic, but with foreboding.

Perhaps he imagined things. Perhaps it was just Elena, merely forgetting to replace one of the wards on the windows (a rather unfortunate habit of hers).

"Elena? Are you here?"

There was no reply. Not that that was unusual either-Elena was bound to be a little late sometimes, especially if she was out feeding.

Stifling the growing apprehension in his mind, Stefan proceeded to remove his soldier's uniform, changing into his commoner's clothes. He had just barely settled down with a good mug of ale and a new grimoire he had borrowed from a neighboring witch when it happened.

BOOM.

A deafening crash echoed from out in the street, followed by the tramp of booted feet and harsh voices. Stefan ran to the window, peering out into twilight. He drew in a sharp breath.

Soldiers from the castle-a fair number of them, some he even faintly recognized-filled the street, and they looked to be searching the houses, although for what, Stefan couldn't imagine. Before he could think anymore, a loud knock rattled against his own door, some plaster falling down from the walls and ceiling with the force of the blow.

"Open up in the name of the king!" A gruff voice rumbled. "And be quick about it!"

Stefan hurried over, pulling the door open before more damage could be inflicted on it. "May I be of service, sir?" he asked politely, straining to keep his face impassive at the sight of two guards looming over him with identical sneers. Beyond them, he could make out a large group of his neighbors being rounded up into groups in the streets, their angered voices demanding to know why their homes were being searched.

"Step aside, warlock, and no harm'll come to you," one of the guards grunted. "We have orders to search all homes in this sector of the city."

"Searching? For what?" Stefan followed after them as they shoved past him and began tearing apart the room.

The guards ignored him, turning over tables and rifling through drawers, leaving no object untouched.

Stefan felt his ire rising. "As a fellow guard of the watch, I demand to know the reason for this! What could you possibly be looking for down in this end of the city?"

"Why, a white oak stake, of course," a smooth voice answered from behind him. Stefan's hackles raised.

"Marcel," he greeted coolly, standing stiffly while the captain swaggered into the room. "What brings you here?"

"Merely doing my duty, Salvatore-and you may call me captain, or have you forgotten our little chat already?" Marcel replied easily.

"Does your duty include ripping apart people's homes for amusement, captain?"

"Just being thorough. Wouldn't want to make any mistakes, not with a weapon that could kill Original vampires," Marcel said.

"And you honestly believe that one of the witches has the stake?" Stefan asked, incredulous.

"A reliable source tipped me off. Naturally, we had to investigate," Marcel said. "Although if the source is correct, I certainly wouldn't want to be in your shoes."

"Meaning?"

"Well, rumor has it that a number of witches found the stake, and are biding their time for an opportunity to end the vampire race by picking off the Original family one by one."

Stefan chuckled, though inside he felt anything but humor. "Surely you don't believe that?"

"Whether I believe it or not is irrelevant-I merely seek the truth. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a particular interest in this theory."

"Oh? And why is that?"

Marcel smiled viciously. "Why? Because you, Salvatore, were named the ringleader. I wonder, if we search your room, what might we find concealed in some hiding place?"

As if on cue, a shout of victory sounded from his bedroom. "Captain! We've found it!"

Before Stefan could even register the shock flooding his body, Marcel had crashed him into the wall. "Well, well, well...I believe we have our winner," he purred. He shoved Stefan out the door into the street.

"You can't do this, Marcel, I swear, I had no idea how it got there-"

"Save your lies for the Council, Salvatore," Marcel snarled. "Guards! Take this lot up to the castle dungeons." He gestured to the group of Stefan's neighbors who were looking on in utter confusion.

Stefan's hands were roughly shackled behind his back and he was unceremoniously thrown into the back of a wagon with the other witches, their cries of protestation met with harsh jeers and even the occasional slap across the face.

Stefan's heart beat erratically, panic-stricken, trying to calm his mind down enough to think rationally.

Someone must have planted the white oak stake in his house for a reason...and it was almost too much of a coincidence that Marcel had been there when they found it. He was certain the vampire had been involved, if not completely behind this plot.

He only hoped Caroline would believe his innocence.

"Yield!"

Caroline groaned, once again finding herself shoved to the floor of the armory, her sword just out of reach with the tip of Rebekah's blade just brushing her throat. Breathing heavily, she raised her hands in defeat. "I yield."

Rebekah grinned, sheathing her sword quickly and offering Caroline her arm, which the witch gladly took, her muscles aching from the exertion. Rebekah had lately been training her to swordfight. Klaus had originally wanted to train her, but Rebekah insisted on the task, a conversation which ended with Klaus begrudgingly admitting that his younger sister was extremely gifted with a blade, even more so than he was.

"Don't worry, it just takes practice," Rebekah reminded her for the umpteenth time. "You're progressing marvelously. Just remember to watch the blade, not my eyes."

Caroline nodded, still a little put out at yet another defeat, but retrieved her sword, ready to go another round. "At least I may take comfort that I would beat you spectacularly with my powers." She began circling Rebekah just as they'd practiced, every sense alert, waiting for the vampire to strike.

Rebekah chuckled, mimicking Caroline's movements, every inch the graceful predator that she was. "Of that, I have no doubt."

A sudden burst of voices and loud shouts stopped them in their tracks, their heads turned toward the direction of the entrance hall where the commotion was seemingly coming from.

"What on earth?" Caroline wondered aloud, sheathing her sword as Rebekah did the same, a frown marring both of their faces.

Hurrying down the corridors, they made it quickly to the entrance hall-and the sight had Caroline skidding to an abrupt halt.

Flanked by an escort of burly palace guards, with heavy manacles chaining him up, stood her Stefan, in a group of at least twenty other prisoners, whom she could instantly sense as her magical brethren, some of whose faces she recognized from her home sector. They were bruised and some even bloodied up, trying to break loose from the chains that Caroline guessed to be spelled against any breaking of the magical sort.

Her blood ran cold.

"What's all this, then?" Rebekah asked loudly, striding confidently forward. Catching sight of Marcel, she paused. "I take it this is on your orders, Marcel. Would you care to enlighten us?"

Marcel bowed gracefully, his grin sharp. "Merely rounding up traitors, Highness. We received word that a group of rebel witches harbored the white oak stake in hopes of destroying your family. I'm pleased to report we have found both the stake and the traitors plotting to overthrow you. This one-" he shoved Stefan to his knees-"was in possession of the stake when we searched his house. No doubt he's the leader of this despicable plot."

Caroline could barely comprehend what he was saying. Stefan, scheming to kill the royal family? Utterly impossible.

Rebekah's eyes flickered to Caroline before returning to Marcel. "And you're quite certain of this, Marcel?"

"The stake was found inside his home, locked in a trunk," Marcel replied smoothly. "What further evidence do you need?"

Caroline's fingers tightened into fists. "Surely, you must consider that he could have been framed?"

Marcel's expression remained neutral, but Caroline caught the slight sneer in his tone. "I very much doubt it, Your Majesty."

Still on his knees, Stefan interjected. "Of course I was framed! I have been nothing if not loyal to the crown for my entire life and-"

Marcel spun on his heel and backhanded him across the face, the slap cracking through the air. Stefan doubled over, a purple bruise already forming on his cheek.

Caroline gasped, automatically taking a step forward to help him up before Rebekah placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"That's enough, Marcel," the blonde Original said firmly, gaze turning to ice. "You may take the prisoners to the dungeons for further questioning and for Nik to deal with as he deems fit. I thank you for your continued loyalty to my family."

Recognizing the dismissal, Marcel bowed. "As my lady commands," he replied politely, before signaling to the guards to carry out their orders. "I shall personally ensure they make it to the cells without incident."

Rebekah inclined her head, and Caroline caught Stefan's eye. I will find a way to free you. I promise.

Stefan seemed to read her thoughts, as she shot her a grim smile before he was roughly pulled to his feet by a beefy guard.

She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as he was led away, the heavy footsteps of the guards and the pained mutterings of the prisoners fading away into silence.

"It wasn't him," she said at once, spinning to face Rebekah.

Rebekah inhaled sharply. "It doesn't look good for him either way. Nik will be furious when he finds out about this."

Caroline prayed she was wrong.

Because if Klaus didn't believe him, Stefan was as good as dead.

"Caroline?"

"Speak of the devil," Rebekah muttered. She gave Caroline a sympathetic look before slipping away. Caroline wished she had stayed.

Klaus reached her, pressing a swift kiss to her temple. "What's going on, sweetheart? I heard Marcel has a special report from the city? Something about a threat to the family?"

Forcing herself to remain calm, Caroline grabbed his hand. "First, promise me you won't fly into a rage."

Klaus looked affronted. "Me, become enraged? What a thought. Come now, out with it."

She took a steadying breath. "Marcel just returned from rounding up some witches who were supposedly caught with the white oak stake in their possession. Apparently, they were planning on killing your family with it. And...and my cousin has been branded their leader."

Klaus's face had darkened as she spoke, but now his expression turned black with fury. "Salvatore is the leader?"

Caroline nodded, wary. "According to Marcel, one of his sources pointed him in Stefan's direction, and they found the stake in our... his home." She shivered, before her spine straightened and she gave Klaus a level look. "But he must have been framed. Stefan is my family. He would never hurt me, or you. For goodness' sake, he helped save your lives! You can't possibly believe this, can you?" Her eyes searched his, pleading.

Still furious, Klaus ran his hand through his curls. "What am I supposed to believe, Caroline? You know I take threats against my family extremely seriously. I cannot simply let him go, on the chance that he is indeed guilty."

"Question him, then! You'll see he's telling the truth!"

"Is he? Are you so sure?"

"Yes," she said emphatically, tilting her chin up defiantly. "I know Stefan is innocent. I believe him."

Klaus regarded her thoughtfully. "There's that loyalty I so admire," he murmured, his face softening the slightest bit.

"Please, Klaus. You must trust me on this."

He arched a brow. "Trust you?"

And there it was.

She nodded, hands gripping her skirts. "Yes. Or forever ruin what is between us."

He stepped forward, eyes flashing, jaw tightening. "I don't do well with ultimatums, love. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip Salvatore's spine out."

"Because he's mine," she hissed, stepping into his space, until their breaths mingled. "He's my family, and he has my loyalty. Have you learned nothing of me in our time together? I protect my own. As you protect yours." She brought her hand up to cup his face, gently. "I ask you now to trust me in this." Don't throw away this gift….please.

Lowering his lashes, he leaned into her touch. Then he looked at her, still stern, before finally sighing. "You have my word I will not kill him...yet," he said. "But I cannot let him go," he added at the relief on her face. "He must be questioned for information, and I won't release him until this matter is resolved and the perpetrators are found. "

Caroline breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she whispered, giving him a watery smile.

He responded with a sharp nod.

"You had better hope you are right about him, Caroline," Klaus warned as he took his leave, heading toward the dungeons. "Otherwise, death will be a mercy compared to what I have in mind for him."

He spun on his heel, leaving her to sag slightly against the wall.

Things couldn't possibly get any worse.

In his study, Klaus turned the stake over in his hands, the intricate carvings on its surface a stark contrast to its silvery glow, the weapon almost pulsing with sinister power. Two ideas warred within his chest-intense relief that the one object that could harm him and his family had been recovered, and cold anger that Mikael had so cruelly betrayed their weakness to their enemies. Had Mikael not broken them enough, now that he was toying with them yet again, even beyond the grave?

Klaus muttered a soft curse under his breath. The bastard would not win so easily.

He stood before the painting of a large brown wolf that adorned the main wall of the room. He had painted mere days after his first shift into his own wolf. The thought of that first transformation, of the utter freedom to finally be his true self-he could still taste the euphoric feeling whenever he looked at the painting.

His monster appeared, his fangs just sharp enough to prick the skin of his wrist. Blood welled up swiftly from the cut, and he pressed it carefully against the painting's gilded frame. With a groan, the painting swung forward as if on a hinge, revealing a shallow shelf.

The stake's sheen faded as Klaus thrust it into the dark place, safely hidden from the world.

He gently replaced the painting and clasped his hands behind his back, exhaling. It was done.

The door creaked open, and he stiffened instinctively.

"Klaus?"

The Original hybrid remained where he was. "I assume you need something, Marcellus?"

He heard the younger vampire laugh from the threshold. "I merely wished to ensure the stake has been properly taken care of."

Klaus tilted his head in acknowledgement. "It has. And rest assured, it will be quite difficult to obtain this time."

"Just as I supposed," Marcel said, flashing his charming grin and moving to stand by him. "It's not wise to meddle with the Mikaelsons."

"Indeed."

"Although, now that the stake is in a safe location, wouldn't it be prudent to guard it more heavily?" Marcel asked, his face sober. "Our enemies have grown more insidious in the recent days, and I would hate for a spy to slip through our ranks yet again and obtain the one weapon that can kill you."

"And what exactly are you suggesting, Marcel? A squadron of guards?" Klaus snorted derisively. "I think not. I don't particularly like the idea of giving away the stake's location, even to those in our employ. It's too risky."

Marcel clapped him on the shoulder. "You and your paranoia," he said wryly, shaking his head. "Very well, here's a better idea: why not just me? I'm the Captain of the Guard, after all. It would be my honor to guard it with my life, and to defend it in case the location is ever compromised."

Klaus studied him for a moment, taking in the earnest expression, the proud stance of one who had earned his loyalty time and again. "It is hidden in my chambers," he said at last. "That is the most I will say, even for you, my friend."

"I understand," Marcel nodded. "Thank you."

Klaus waved his hand in dismissal. "No need to get sentimental, Marcellus. Or I might be tempted to roughen that handsome face."

"The ladies like a man with scars," Marcel quipped back, chuckling as he left the room.

Klaus grimaced, and reached for the bottle of ale on his desk.

He needed a good long drink.

The worst part of reconnaissance missions, Finn decided, was certainly the damp living conditions. Making camp instead of taking up lodging in one of their family's many properties was necessary in order to avoid alerting enemies to their presence, but tents did little to keep out the elements. The light rain drummed a relentless beat on the tent roof, while he inspected the large map spread out on a table. The map was dotted with markings, locations of their own allies as well as those of known enemies.

Finn looked up as a fluttering of cloth announced a visitor. "Well?"

Pulling off her hood, Sage's flaming hair glinted in the candlelight. "All seems clear on the southern front," she said, laying one hand on his shoulder. She pointed to a spot on the map. "The witches here are peaceful, according to our sources. Don't care much for interfering in vampire wars."

Finn nodded. "And the scouts?"

"They should be here within the hour, although it's possible the rain may cause them some delay."

"Good."

"I do wish this weather would stop. I had fancied talking you into a race to pass the time. It's been too long since I've beaten you."

Finn snorted. "I believe it was a tie the last time, and besides, you cheated. Escaping from that rope trap was no simple task."

Sage laughed, stooping to kiss him softly on the cheek. "Now, now, don't pout. It's most unbecoming to an old man like yourself."

Finn bared his fangs, but his eyes twinkled at her. "Says the four centuries old vampire."

Smiling, Sage threw off her cloak, setting it down near the fire to dry, before coming back to the table.

"What do you think of Elijah's message?" She said, sitting down beside him, picking up the slightly scorched missive that Bonnie had no doubt sent to them by spell. Her eyes flicked through its contents for the umpteenth time.

Finn rubbed his brow. "I think it's no coincidence. Two threats to the family in the past month? It must be another piece on the chessboard. Now if only we could find the mind behind this game and put an end to his delusions of power."

"You know, my darling, I love your family, but why on earth must you be so quick to make so many enemies?" Sage said mournfully, taking a swig from a nearby waterskin.

"Diplomacy was never a Mikaelson trait, I'm afraid," Finn said, with a small smile. "Although Caroline has certainly worked wonders for Niklaus' temper."

"I'll drink to that," Sage said, raising the waterskin before draining the rest of its contents. "Now if only we could find someone to rein in Kol-"

She paused as Finn suddenly cocked his head, both hearing the unmistakable sound of footsteps treading quickly into the camp. A moment later, a man entered, shivering at the blast of warm air. He saluted smartly at them.

Before Finn could open his mouth to question him, Sage had already handed the younger vampire a canteen of blood. He drank it down greedily, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before catching Finn's gaze.

At his grim look, Finn's every sense were instantly on alert. "What news?"

"Give the boy a moment, Finn. He's been out for over a week, and dealing with the Claires is no easy task." Sage glared at her husband before smiling kindly at the scout. "How are you, Joshua?"

"Josh, please. And overall, I am well, thank you, my lady. Except for being soaked through, of course. The weather in this region is terribly dull-"

"The news, Joshua," Finn interrupted, exasperated.

"Yes, right. Well. Miraculously, I believe I may have found the answer as to whom is behind this whole scheme against your family." For all the weight his words carried, his tone sounded as though he was merely commenting on the weather.

"What?" Sage breathed just as Finn sprang to his feet with a barked out, "Explain."

Josh clasped his hands behind his back, looking rather pleased with himself. "It was quite simple for me to befriend Davina, as we were childhood friends before I was turned. I ensured to comment on how much I despise the royal family, fed her the old line about wanting to see the Mikaelsons destroyed at all costs. And wouldn't you know it, two days later she's asking me to accompany her as a protector while she retrieves the white oak stake that she'd been searching for. Mikael's dead body was quite horrid to look at, I must say, but the stake was there, plain as day."

"So the Claires are behind this. Not entirely a surprise, I suppose," Sage mused.

"That's not all, Your Highness." Josh's face suddenly grew dark, his voice lowered. "She...she told me who she was giving the stake to, to finish off your family for good."

Finn held his breath, waiting.

Josh steeled himself, shoulders tense. "Marcel Gerard. She's working on orders from Marcel Gerard."

Nothing could be heard but the steady pounding of the rain.

"Marcel?" Sage whispered. "But-it can't be! You're saying that all this time, he's been plotting against us? After we took him in for all these years?"

"That is certainly what is appears to be," Josh replied soberly, drawing his cloak tighter about his shoulders. "Davina gave no indication of his motives, but I warrant it has something to do with his lust for power. Marcel has a lion's share of ambition, after all."

Sage turned to her husband, who had thus far been silent. "What do you think of this?"

"I think we need to warn Niklaus and the others, before it is too late. If it truly is Marcel, there's no telling what he'll do now. Did Davina leave for Mystic Falls right away?"

Josh nodded. "I left her a little over two days ago. The stake may already be in Marcel's hands, with that head start."

"Then we must make haste," Finn stated, already throwing on a thick traveling cloak. "It's nearly a three day journey to Mystic Falls by horse, but we're much faster on our own." Despite the grim set of his mouth, he winked at Sage. "Still fancy going for that run, my dear?"

AN: I hope the wait was worth it and that I didn't accidentally retcon anything and that it wasn't too confusing. Thank you so much to all of you who still read this fic and especially to those of you who review and who've dropped me some lovely asks about it on Tumblr. I appreciate your support and you all are absolutely wonderful. Until next time 3