Part 14

Hope. Faith. Grace.

And his Love.

A thousand barren years, where tomorrows had no relevance, where survival was certain though immortality was nothing but endless, empty, frozen solitude.

Klaus Mikaelson could trace a line between the wasteland of the past millennium and this yet too short time that was already filled with a blinding shattering prism of light and a warmth that heady and all-encompassing and pulsed in a soul he had long since thought lost to the fates.

Hope. Faith. Grace.

Love.

All that he had never thought possible since his mother sold his and his family's souls in exchange for immortality. All that he had since given up for the myth that they became.

And now, if this was all he would ever have, then he was the most fortunate creature in all the world.

Once, while tracking one of the ancient covens on the road to New Orleans, he had sworn to his brother that for Caroline, he would burn down the whole world. By the end of the night the soot that settled on his skin and the smoke that carried the stench of burning human flesh proved his words true. And now, with three little girls to raise, he found himself in quite the predicament so discordant with his prior nature.

For Hope, Faith and Grace, he would give his soul for the world to be more beautiful, more colorful, more suitable and deserving for their little feet to walk on.

Every one of his siblings would join him, of course. That much he was certain.

It was in the panicked curses that erupted from the nursery when Kol rose from his nap on the day that Caroline woke from her sleep. The wild fear in his younger brother's eyes when he threw open the door to the master's bedroom to seek his help pleased Klaus. So did the utter relief evident on his face at the sight of the babies safe and cradled by their parents.

"Well that took you long enough, Sleeping Beauty," was the greeting that Kol gave Caroline, his voice thick with emotion that even his words could not hide.

It was in the shattered vase that lay of the floor, in too many pieces that even kintsugi would not help salvage it, the moment that Rebekah turned at the kitchen and saw Caroline walking beside her brother. The name was cut off with a choking noise in her throat. Glass crunched under her shoes unheeded when Rebekah walked quickly over then stopped just short of reaching Caroline.

Ecstatic. Uncertain. Afraid.

But it was Caroline the crossed the gap, and threw her arms around Rebekah. And the sob that rocked his little sister when her arms wrapped tightly to return the embrace gave him assurance.

"I told you I'd be okay," Caroline said.

"Oh my God, you're still a know-it-all!" Rebekah gasped. The embrace tightened even as Caroline moved to part, and Rebekah pulled her ever closer. "You scared the shit out of me. Don't make me do that ever again."

Not that it was ever going to be possible, but their lives were so upended by the impossibilities made real by the introduction of the Gemini pregnancy into the mix, that one could not blame his sister for the warning.

When finally Rebekah allowed Caroline to pull away, his wife took Rebekah's face in her hands and looked into Rebekah's haunted eyes. "You saved their lives, Bekah. Do you understand that?" And Rebekah nodded. "And no matter how it looked, or felt like afterwards, you need to know that you saved my life too."

Then it meant his little sister saved him along with his little family.

"And I can't think of anyone I would trust with the babies more than you, if something happens to us."

It was not a thing they discussed, and he would never have entertained a discussion of eventualities that were impossible. Then again, Caroline had not had a pleasure and pain of having lived as long and indestructibly as he. Yet even as he thought of it now, he was almost certain that she had it right.

Rebekah, with her heart on her sleeve and a longing for motherhood, who loved to often and too much, whose hand it was that did the one thing that Klaus doubted he would have done for the good of the children, would be best chosen for the responsibility.

His little sister threw a searching look at him.

"Yes, Rebekah. Will you be the twins' godmother, in the impossible event that Caroline and I are not present to raise the children?"

The cloud on Rebekah's expression, present since the birth of the children, vanished as if skies were clearing for the sun. "It would be my honor," she swore softly.

It was, as well, in the tableau that was revealed when he walked into the nursery. Caroline finally seated in the Queen Anne chair that he had purchased for her, but had been warmed by many of his family members in her absence. He had dreamed of it, thought it was a milestone that would forever be lost. Instead, even that gift was given him.

"The spell froze your body in state while allowing you to heal," Freya told Caroline. "You'll need to feed them to relieve the pressure. Or we'll need to release the milk some other way, but that would be a waste." He watched, his eyes half-lidded, as Freya helped Caroline guide one of the girls to his wife's breast.

"Come on, Faith," Caroline murmured gently.

The baby latched, but turned her head to the side even as it mewled in hunger. Her breast looked heavy and full. Her gaze found his, and Klaus saw the look of distress on Caroline's face.

Before he could say a word, Hayley leaned down close, then gingerly replaced Faith with Grace. "Give her time. She'll come along. We'll not give up. She just got used to the bottle, but she'll take to your breast soon enough."

Klaus watched as Grace quickly latched on and suckled at Caroline's nipple. Caroline gasped at the early discomfort, then settled down in the comfort of the chair as she became used to the sensation. "Look, Klaus, she's our little go-getter!"

His eyes were heated as he watched her. "Thank you, ladies," he managed to rasp out, his dismissal obvious. Caroline looked up in protest, until she saw his expression. He did not miss the slight curve of her lips as both his older sister and the mother of his firstborn shuffled away. He made sure to close the nursery door behind them.

Caroline handed over Grace to him, then took Faith once again in her arms. Klaus placed the twin on his shoulder, running a hand on her back in circles as he had learned to do when Hope was smaller. "There you have it, sweetheart," he said soothingly.

She offered the other breast to Faith, who nuzzled at it first, before taking the nipple and then suckling with gusto. Her eyes widened in triumph, and she beamed at him.

Still the most beautiful girl in the world.

And then the smile faded.

"Sweetheart?"

"You have given me everything," she told him. And he wondered how the words could come out of her just when he was basking on the life that had been impossible before her. "And it started with a choice."

But it started long before the day that the vial of red liquid winked under the sun, right in the palm of his hand. He would not dare correct her now—not when his heart was bursting at the sight of her feeding Faith, at the warm comfort of Grace on his shoulder, at the sheer, undeniable weight of her love for him shining in her gaze.

"Why did I not see it before?" Her brows furrowed. "We could have spared ourselves the denial and the long wait."

Grace had drifted off to sleep, and he placed her in her crib. He looked down at a slack-jawed Faith as Caroline's nipple slipped off her mouth. When he reached down to move her, a generous burp made him grin. He settled her down and reached to wipe the edge of the baby's mouth where some breastmilk dribbled.

"I think you're in danger of seeing me in a brighter light than who I really am," Klaus said easily. "You have the privilege of seeing me as a father, love, and as your husband."

She rose from her chair, then walked over to where he stood before the cribs. "I know the violence it took for you to secure a life for us, Klaus," she assured him.

Caroline had referenced the knowledge when he had come home late every night in the rampage that he and his brothers had gone on to destroy those in pursuit of her and the babies she carried. Would she feel the same about casualties she knew? She had been so opposed to the war he waged on her friends in Mystic Falls.

How deep did Rebekah bury the teacher? How many years of peace would he get before the truth crawled its way to the surface, and she found out that the heart of the man whose seed brought them their greatest gift was still warm when he handed it to his sister?

She grasped at his arms. "I know the strength and the power it takes to keep us. I don't need to fool myself and pretend you're an angel." Caroline pressed her body flush against his. "I think I love you more because of it. What does that say about me?" He saw a slight wince when she brushed up against him.

"A little sore, love?"

He took her hands and pulled her through the adjoining door and towards their bedroom. Klaus locked the door behind them.

It was so easy to pull at the belt and allow the robe to fall softly around her ankles. He looked down at the breasts that had nourished the twins. His thumbs brushed against both and they puckered quickly due to high sensitivity. "Still sore. Let me help soothe you."

Caroline threw back her head and released a sigh of relief as his tongue gently laved at one. Her knees buckled and he easily caught her. And then Klaus gently laid her back in the bed, returning his attention to soothing one distended nipple with his mouth, then turning to the other.

And he knew what she needed, had seen the soreness as the first time she breastfed the babies were already on their third month instead of gentler newborns. But she had braved it and done so well, keeping the babies as her priority.

Burn him in hell, but as much as he loved those little souls and would give up his immortal life for them, the truth was deep-seated and he would never allow Caroline to hear it. But it was his truth nonetheless.

To him, his wife would always come first. Let him not be tested by fate in the centuries to come. Love was, after all, irrevocable and inextricable until it was not. For all that had not broken him, watching the fractured light behind her eyes—the love he witnessed even before she said the words—fade once she truly knew his soul would be his destruction.

Burn him in hell with the deep, dark secret that he would not dare whisper—not even to Elijah, who knew the most sordid parts of him.

He sped his way down and returned to bed. Caroline let out a surprised squeal at the cold wetness on her breast, then happily settled back and allowed the ice on his tongue soothe her raw nipple. Her fingers buried in his hair, then guided him to the other breast after sufficiently treating the one.

Thin streams of liquid dripped from the side of her breasts and onto the mattress as the ice melted.

When he lifted his head and he looked down at her, Caroline's thighs parted to cradle his hips. "Thank you," she sighed. Klaus buried himself to the hilt, stretching her until she was full.

Pumping into her, drowning inside her, every push he buried himself inside her. Her blue gaze held his, brilliant and shining and so full of love for the man he had become. She was alive, awake, and so ingrained in him that his very blood sang her name.

In her life, he saw the whole world and all that lived.

~ o ~ o ~ o ~

Hope. Faith. Grace.

And Love.

In the short span of her lifetime compared to his, she was fortunate enough that one day he turned to her and saw more than anyone had. Really, she had known, that Klaus saw more than what was there. What was she done? What did she bring beyond a pretty smile? Klaus would grumble, insist that she had been more and better than what she knew she had been.

But it was part of a stroke of luck.

Where he brought with him wisdom and strength and power gathered over a millennium, and she brought nothing but herself.

But she was Caroline Forbes, and she took all that he had given and reflected his light like a mirror. One could only give what was given. She basked in the light that he shone on her, and could not even wonder how it was that never once had she shone more brightly than she did when she was on his arm.

He was born too early and she was born late, but destiny sought it fit to force nature and magic to warp their soul so he would find her and she him. Soulmates were a myth, but Caroline never could deny the pull that Klaus Mikaelson had on her when her brain listed all the reasons that he could not be an option. All she fought and she clawed and she ran when all that she needed was to pause.

And in that pause, she knew.

From that day forward, he would be his life. And in accepting all that he was, he had given her everything.

And that was the day that Caroline became everything that he saw her to be.

Beyond his love now. She was his wife, and she was strong enough to stand by his side. And he had done everything in his power to keep the family protected. The scales would never be even. But she was his partner and there were parts of his darkness than were shadowed even more than the others.

The blackest one that marred him lay deep down in the catacombs. Caroline thought she would never return to the depth of this hell that still smelled faintly of Klaus' tears. And the flicker of hatred that she nursed for the Beast that was once Klaus' son flared bright and hot.

The Beast was chained to the walls, his wrists and ankles bound. What kindness they showed him, to have given him such long chains. They were enough to move and lay on the hard ground. Caroline remembered the harsh way he had thrown her to the floor, knocking the wind out of her, the jarring pain breaking her wrist and triggering the labor that had been far too early, tearing something inside her that started the bleeding before her water broke. Had she had the choice, the chains would be tight and would leash him half standing where there was no possibility to sit or lay and take the weight off his feet.

Not even four months.

When Marcel had taken Klaus from his daughter for more than a year.

Four months was not punishment. It was the blink of an eye.

"Where's your husband?" Marcel demanded harshly, peering behind her.

Caroline's lips curved. "I'm not his shadow, and he's not mine."

"Could have fooled the entire French Quarter." Even that, Marcel Gerard had taken from her. How much she had wanted for Klaus to show her the city he loved, only for them to take short trips mostly hidden and fraught with tension. Strolling for pleasure was lost amidst the shuffle among the Mikaelsons. She could not wait to walk beside him now with little to fear.

And for that, it was her turn to take the reins. Just as he slayed her monsters, so she would his.

And then, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

She settled on a tombstone at the corner, which was low enough that she could sit. "Your existence is like a dark cloud over our future, and I can't have that. I am not someone who harbors hate, Marcel. But I absolutely hate you for what you had done to my husband, and then for putting my children's lives at risk."

This time, it was Marcel who smirked. Caroline hated that he found mirth in any of this. He deserved nothing more than contempt. "We both know that as much as Klaus Mikaelson despises me, his fondness for his first child would never allow him to raise a hand against me. This is as harsh a punishment he can dole out. He would forgive me in a few decades, and you will find me across from you in the dining table, Mrs Mikaelson."

Under the same room as her girls? In the same room, breathing the same air?

"I will never have a good night's sleep knowing the Beast that wants my daughters dead is alive down here."

No, there was no sleep to be had. Not even if was simply the same continent.

He was right though. As grand of a myth was the monster that was Klaus Mikaelson, as ferocious as he could be to the threats against her, there was a reason that Marcel Gerard still existed.

When Caroline rose to approach him, Marcel pulled himself up to his feet. The chains made the discordant noise as it scraped the floor. How proud he was, how confident. Marcel had not been brought to the lows that Klaus had been when she found him. There was no dark object such as the bone blade inside of him. No. The Mikaelsons had been far too kind.

Marcel did not move further when she came close enough to place a hand on his cheek. She was a baby vampire to him, one of the objects of the Original's obsession. How many had it been over the centuries? But she was the first he married, the one that she knew Marcel could tell was different from the rest.

"Did you expect me to cower and wait, Mrs Mikaelson, when those babies were prophesied to be my destruction?" He shook his head. "From where I am standing, everything I did was self-preservation. Your husband would understand. His entire family drilled that lesson to me over the years."

No one went through what she had, so close to death and drained only to miraculously be revived with the use of an ancient spell, to come out unchanged. The very essence of her had been spilled, with only the twins left to sustain her, and even they had been taken away. From nothing, her body built back up again to force magic back into her.

Between life and death. Between pain and peace.

"He would," she admitted. Klaus would nurse his anger and his pain, but he pushed thoughts of Marcel far enough so he could put his focus on the girls. "And that is why I am here, not Klaus."

"What do you think you can do to me?"

It started as a familiar tingle, flaring into a constant, powerful pull. This time, there were no other souls to whisper to, to convince, to promise to. The siphon pull came from deep in her own gut and flesh and bone, horrifically warped into her very being, her magic forever wrapped around it. Caroline placed another hand around the back of his neck. "The siphon magic would always be drawn to the most powerful creature in the room," she said calmly, watching Marcel's eyes widen in recognition. "The twins were too young to know control, but I am the personification of control, Marcel. I decide when and how much to take."

She had destroyed herself with guilt of taking lives as a vampire. Still would be shattered if she inadvertently caused a death that could be avoided.

But for some reason, this was a pleasure.

This was her role now. A little darker, but her light was bright and undiminished. She would face her husband prouder, even if this would hurt him for all the ways he would not say.

Caroline threw her head back and let the siphon energy take over, spreading through her guts and limbs and skin. There was some malevolent throb in the way the magic created tendrils wrapping around her fingers, then curled and taunted and then jammed into Marcel's skull, his throat, his spine. When his gaze slammed back at her, she saw his fear.

And she took pleasure in it.

Ash. Blood. Dark objects.

Death and a manipulated ancient spell.

And then a slumber that sealed her between worlds. When her blood drained and Gemini blood sustained her, Original blood dripped into her in desperate attempts to keep her alive. She was a changed creature now, far more changed than anyone could know.

Caroline Mikaelson woke up from her slumber not as the girl that Klaus Mikaelson had fallen in love with, not the Caroline Forbes that he married.

Caroline Forbes would not have seen the fear and responded by tightening the hold she had on Marcel. The Beast fell to his knees in front of her, closed his hands around her wrists and began to pull in his desperate attempt to release himself. Instead, she increased the pull of the siphon magic until the paragon diamond on her finger grew hot and hotter still, until the clear gemstone looked nearly like an African ruby with the charge.

"Ssssshhhhhh."

Very gingerly, Caroline laid Marcel down on the floor, his eyes opened and unseeing. She knelt down beside him, watching his breathing even out.

"It wasn't so bad, was it? You just have to stop fighting it," she advised. Caroline placed a hand on his chest, feeling the racing pattern of his heart. "I'll come back often, Marcel. You will get to know me. I'll come back to take again and again, frequently enough that you never recover more than I can take. I'll take every bit from you until you are no longer a threat to my daughters." Caroline pressed a kiss on his eyebrow. "That is not self-preservation. That is a mother protecting her children. I know you understand."

And then, she would slay the monster that he could not.

For him.

Caroline collected herself, shuffling off the dust from her dress as she stood. This chapter of her story began in the catacombs beneath his home, when she came to wake him from the wretched hell that Marcel had subjected him to. It would end in the catacombs on the day she drained the egomaniac king, her daughters freed from his threat forever, and her husband unburdened by the looming responsibility to kill that whom he once loved.

Let her soul be forfeit, as long as she had him then light and dark mattered little.

Through his love, she could see everything that deserved to live.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,

or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

Sonnet XVII, Pablo Neruda

Fin - Book 1

Next – Book 2 – Between the Shadow and the Soul