Archive of Our Own ^beta

When the Ocean Met the Sky

Caroline, even as a tiny little thing, had loved stories. Her mother hadn't understood, too busy with practical matters. Her mother had managed the land, the animals, ensuring that Caroline and the people in her care were safe. Her father had been more indulgent. He'd lulled her to sleep with epic tales of the gods and goddesses. Allowed her to sit around the fire in the main hall and listen to the clan's warriors boast of battles past. He told her tales of his trading journeys, described faraway lands where the sun scorched the earth and the waters of the sea were warm at the shores.

While she'd eaten those up Caroline had liked the soft stories the most, the personal ones. She'd liked to keep her head down and listen while the older girls talked about the boys they were courting, peppered the elder ladies with questions when they spoke of their own girlhoods, how their hands had been won.

She'd always believed in love. Despite the fact that her parent's marriage had been arranged, mutually beneficial to both their families, that they'd found happiness and companionship elsewhere, she'd hoped for a love match for herself.

Her parents would have allowed it, she'd known. They doted on their only child, were wealthy enough to accept a man with little to his name if Caroline set her heart on him. The lands her mother worked yielded abundant harvests year after year and her father's voyages were lucrative. Caroline always sat down to a heaped table, had worn dresses dyed in a rainbow of colors, had kept her hands warm with gloves of soft leather and thick fur.

She'd been pampered and young, unaware of how precarious her comfortable life had been.

One hard winter rocked her world off its axis.

With game scarce their food stores grew low. Her father hadn't returned from a trip. They traded what they could, tried to sell some of their finery but found it held little value amongst the villagers who were also struggling. A cold summer, a poor harvest, had followed and Caroline came to know hunger well.

Still, her father, his crew, did not return.

Caroline, watching her mother grow thin and pale, had known she needed to do something. Perhaps her actions had been rash but, young as she'd been, she hadn't known what else to do.

She'd altered some of her father's old things to fit her, outfitted herself with garments fit for the sea. Sharpened her weapons, practiced the things her mother had shown her, ways to put a man down swiftly even if he outweighed and outreached her. Caroline had cried as she'd cut her hair but had been stone faced and resolved the next morning when she'd stolen away. She'd known the safest route to the ports, had kept her head down and joined a vessel set to sail east.

She'd thought only of easing her mother's burden. One less mouth to feed would improve the household's health and any extra income Caroline could bring home would be welcome.

Aboard the ship she'd kept her secret for only a handful of days. Fortunately, Caroline had been sailing since before she could walk and her father's lessons served her well. Several of the other young ones who'd joined up could barely leave their pallets, the sea not agreeing with their stomachs, were useless in keeping the sails up. Caroline worked hard, proved her worth, and her subterfuge was forgiven. When it was revealed that she was not, in fact, a boy, she was welcomed into the hold the few women on the crew claimed.

It wasn't an easy life. Her hands grew rough, her body ached until her muscles adapted to daily strain and sometimes even after. She'd had little cause to wear pretty things, usually kept her hair carefully braided and out of the way. Caroline had missed the comforts of home but found the freedoms ship life offered a fair trade off. She didn't have to watch her words or worry her actions would cause her mother grief. She made her own decisions, accepted the consequences. She chose her path.

Weeks and months and years passed. Caroline tried to send word home whenever she ran into a familiar face or recognizable name. She wrote long letters whenever their fleet broke apart. Some made the journey home with the goods they'd collected, others continued on. She'd told herself often that she should go back but then a whisper would reach her ear. A new land to be discovered, possible riches to be found and she couldn't resist the pull of discovery, the call of the sea.

Her mother wrote back, as first scolding, later resigned. When her hand grew shakier, difficult to read, Caroline worried, resolved to finally go home. Their hulls had been nearly loaded, a few more weeks should have had them filled to bursting, and she could have made the trip back.

She never did.

For all her fanciful childhood notions of finding a man who adored her, she truly hadn't expected to find love on her travels.

She'd lacked the time to dream of a man looking at her with tenderness, found that lust was a fine way to keep warm or burn of excess energy when confined for long stretches. She'd discovered that she liked flirting, and dancing, found power in hot eyes watching her across a bonfire and moans pushed out from between clenched teeth when teasing hands skimmed over and under clothing in the privacy of a dark forest or a quiet ship corner.

Then she'd met Klaus.

He'd consumed her, made it difficult to think of another. She'd tried in the beginning, scared of the strength of his pull on her senses. She hadn't understood their connection.

At the time, Caroline hadn't known the stories of men who became wolves in the light of the full moon were true. Hadn't even the slightest inkling that her soul could be so tightly bound to another, that it had been written long before she'd been born. To be so enthralled had felt foreign and she'd thought to fight it.

Theirs was not a story of love at first sight.

None of the sweet tales she'd devoured had begun with weapons, threats and a head injury.

Theirs was better. Caroline wouldn't trade it for anything.

Klaus has a great deal of practice in tuning out his siblings and, walking through the forest with an arrow loosely notched, he's only vaguely aware of Kol complaining about Rebekah sabotaging his efforts to woo the blacksmith's daughter (or possibly his son). Klaus' lack of attention means he's missed the finer details. He'd already told Kol his pursuit was likely to end with a brand in an unpleasant place – the blacksmith is a formidable man – but Kol's never been fond of taking advice.

Though Klaus can privately admit that his advice is not always well meaning.

He hears something odd, an interruption in the steady trickling of a nearby stream. He slashes his hand and Kol's voice quiets. Klaus lifts his bow higher, swivels to catch Kol's eye. He tips his head towards the stream, crouches slightly so he'll be obscured from view. He takes small, silent steps; intent on capturing whatever prey is using the stream to quench its thirst.

He hopes for a deer. Father is occasionally bearable when his belly is full.

When he sees a woman he is, at first, disappointed. She wears only linen underthings, the fabric worn soft and grey. It's damp in patches, and clinging to her. Klaus can't claim not to enjoy the sight. Her back is to them and she's attempting to untangle her long blonde hair. Klaus' first instinct it too retreat and allow her privacy.

His feet refuse to move.

Something about her has him itching to draw closer. He longs to see her face, his fingertips hot with the urge to reach out. All foreign feelings, and highly irrational. Klaus digs his feet into the earth, shakes his head in hopes his good sense will return. He studies her, rationalizing that it's only prudent to ascertain her identity. Their village is small and he knows all the people of an age with him and his siblings on sight but he doesn't think he knows her.

If she'd come from the other village she's intruding on their territory and they'll have to bring her home with them.

He's oddly pleased with the idea.

Kol, upon finding he doesn't have to worry about spooking dinner, ceases attempting to be quiet. "Hello, pretty!" he calls before Klaus can make any attempt to quell him. "Who might you be?"

The woman's back goes stiff, her hands falling. If they'd startled her she recovers quickly, dropping down towards a bundle on the ground. She pivots and comes up quickly, a small axe in one hand and a knife in the other. She balances lightly on the balls of her feet, her gaze sharp and assessing.

How intriguing.

Her voice is strong when she replies, "My mother taught me not to talk to strange men in the woods."

Kol doesn't heed the edge in her tone, nor the tightening of her fingers on the handle of the axe. He steps closer, offers introductions. "I'm Kol. This is Niklaus. Now we're hardly strange, hmm?"

She makes no move to drop her weapons, glaring pointedly at the bow still held at the ready in Klaus' hands. "I happen to think interrupting a lady while she's bathing is a bit strange."

Kol laughs, sets his hand on Klaus' bow to shove it down. "Not very trusting, are you? You and Niklaus should get along swimmingly."

Her eyes wander over to him and though she doesn't voice her skepticism Klaus reads it easily. He latches his bow to his pack, touches the sword at his waist, just to be cautious, and gives in to his desire to approach her. "You're not from out village," he says.

She holds her ground, watching him warily. "I didn't even know there was a village."

"Two, actually."

She blinks, absorbing that information. "I thank you for the good news. Niklaus, is it?"

"Only to my family." He inclines his head, watching the flexing of the muscle in her arms with interest. She's lightly built but he'd bet all the coins he's stashed away that she knows how to use the weapons she's holding. That her blows are skillful and deadly accurate. The hunch only ramps up his fascination. There are no female warriors in his village, his father has seen to that. He doesn't know enough about the wolves to know if their women fight. "You may call me Klaus. May I have the honor of your name?"

She takes a long moment to think about it. Her eyes flicker passed him, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "My name is Caroline."

He's about to reply, form a pretty compliment in hopes of softening her further, but he hears Kol shout and then his head is throbbing and he's reeling on his feet, hands scrabbling against a tree in an effort to stay upright. His ears are ringing but he hears a new voice ask if Caroline's been hurt and he's offended by the implication that he'd cause her pain.

His tongue feels thick and he can't force out a denial, can't understand why he wants to. His vision goes blurry, then black around the edges. He feels a hand on his face, a soft hum lulling him to give in to the darkness. "I find I want to apologize," Caroline says, as though the urge is mystifying.

It's comforting, to know he's not alone in reeling from her presence.

After a moment, everything is dark.

Caroline shows up early to Mystic Falls High, while the grass is still wet and the sun is barely up. She snaps a lock on a side door and gives herself a tour. It's only smart to know her exits, plan escape routes. She doesn't anticipate trouble, not with the humans, nor with the vampires who'd been sniffing around the doppelganger.

She'd hate to have to kill Stefan. He'd been a dear friend once upon a time and Rebekah would be hard to placate once she found out. The brother is living on borrowed time, however. He'd attempted to compel Caroline last night, to lure her out of The Grille. He'd thought to make her his evening's entertainment. Hadn't expected he'd be the one pinned to a wall in a grimy alley.

Anger flares hot when she thinks about it. She's mollified by knowing Damon Salvatore will spend the day in agony, growing back the various organs Caroline had removed. He'll also be confused. She'd ensured he would not remember who or what he'd tangled with.

She'll have to remember to lift the compulsion before she kills him. Let him have the memories of how he'd whimpered and begged as she'd painstakingly unraveled his intestines.

She'd ruined her boots but it had been worth it.

She breathes deeply, forces her expression to smooth. She must focus on the task at hand.

Caroline's waiting outside the front office when the school's secretary bustles in. Ms. Bartlett, according to the school's amateurish website. She's in her 30's, dyes her hair a few shades too dark, and could really benefit from a slightly shorter hemline. She appears harried, keys jingling with a stack of files in dangerously close to slipping from her arms; one had clutching a travel mug like a lifeline. Caroline smiles brightly, making a show of straightening her short plaid skirt, letting her hands shake like she's nervous. "Good morning!" she chirps. "Let me help you with those."

The secretary merely blinks as Caroline relieves her of her files, shifting them into a neater stack. "You're here awfully early."

Caroline huffs out a laugh that she hopes is convincingly self-deprecating. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just super nervous. I lived in Mystic Falls when I was little but I moved when my parents got divorced and now I'm back. It's my junior year, you know? Kind of a big deal. What if no one remembers me or wants to be my friend or the cheerleading squad is full and I spend the last two years of high school sitting alone in some sad corner of the cafeteria…"

Ms. Bartlett has bought her performance, now wears a soft reassuring smile. "You must be Caroline Forbes. Your mother's thrilled to have you back in town."

Largely because Caroline had compelled her to be so. Liz Forbes is a born workaholic, like Caroline's own mother had been. She'd thrown herself into her work when she'd gotten divorced and her husband and daughter had moved away.

Bill and this century's Caroline (Klaus had been highly amused when he'd learned they shared a name – proclaimed it was a sign) still live outside Atlanta. The girl attends a private high school participates in a long list of extra-curricular activities and has aspirations of being student body president. She rarely speaks to her mother, sends bimonthly emails that are little more than an emotionless recitation of her schedule and recent achievements.

She and Klaus have been intercepting them for months.

Liz is a smart woman, cautious. There's a resemblance between Caroline and her distant relation. They're both tall, blonde, fair skinned with a tendency to freckle. She doubts anyone else, having not seen the girl in nearly ten years, will question her appearance. Her mother, recipient of annual school portraits and candid pictures, is another story. They'd had to stage a gas station hold up to drain the good sheriff of the vervain she ingests regularly. That done, Klaus had compelled her both to overlook the physical changes in her daughter and to issue invitations (for both Caroline and Klaus) into her house.

Caroline's not a big fan of the décor but she figures she can endure it for a month. She's lived in far shabbier rooms over the last thousand years.

"I'm thrilled to be back!" Caroline says, adding an exited bounce to her step as she's ushered into the office. "And kinda terrified as you could tell from the rapid fire word vomit."

"You'll be fine," is the kindly reply. Ms. Bartlett rolls out her chair, settles in, before taking the papers from Caroline's hand. "Cheerleading tryouts are at the end of the week so you don't have to worry about that. Let me just get your schedule and…"

"About that," Caroline interrupts, planting her hands on the desk and leaning down. Ms. Bartlett looks up, startled, but Caroline grabs her arm before she can roll back. She knows her pupils are dilating from the gasp that's forced out of the secretary.

Caroline speaks firmly, all previous sweetness gone, "I'm going to need you to make some changes for me."

The men from the village are insensible, secured to a pair of trees in the camp Caroline's shipmates are busy building. She should be helping, ensuring they'll have sufficient shelter because she already feels the air changing, knows it'll be a cold night. She can't bring herself to leave, paces in front of their captives, eyes glued to the fairer one.

Klaus. His name is Klaus.

She's got her hands curled into fists, fighting the ludicrously strong urge to comb her hands through his hair. Leaves, bits of bark are tangled in the strands and she wants to remove them, yes, but she also finds she wants the excuse to be close to him.

She's curious about him. She'd been too far away to note the shade of his eyes and she wonders if they're blue or green. What would his stubbled cheek would feel like against her palm? Would he shudder if she pressed her lips to his throat?

She moves faster, frustrated. Why can't she stop thinking such inappropriate thoughts?

She hears footsteps come up behind her, a familiar voice, "If their neighbors and kin are equally pleasing to look at I might just have to thank Njord and Freyr for knocking us off course."

She shakes her head at Astrid's glib words. Caroline would not be thanking any of the gods – the fight to get safely to shore after a wicked storm had sprung up had been harrowing and left two of their three ships in need of significant repairs – but perhaps she's not the only one afflicted with this odd pull to the pair on front of her.

Jealousy churns, acidic in her belly, and she swallows the snappish words her friend does not deserve.

"I still think this quantity of rope is… excessive." They're bound tight enough to bruise if they struggle much.

"They pointed weapons at you."

"Not with any real intent," Caroline argues. She hadn't been afraid, hadn't signaled for help. The brother, Kol had been curious and jovial, not a threat. She'd sensed warmth and not calculation from Klaus, had been confident he wouldn't hurt her, and that he wouldn't allow another to try.

Another silly notion she should shake. She doesn't know him.

She feels a hand on her shoulder, a gentle pressure meant to soothe. "Once they wake we'll see what they have to say. Will probably send them on their merry way, perhaps with a trinket or two for their trouble."

"Probably?" Caroline repeats, twisting so she can look at Astrid.

She knows in her bones that she can't kill Klaus. Won't allow Astrid to order it, no matter the consequences.

Her surety makes not a bit of sense.

Astrid ignores the censure in the question, lifts careless a shoulder. "I doubt we'll need to kill them. We're stuck until we can repair the ships. It wouldn't be strategic to make enemies."

Klaus stirs, a soft groan spilling from his lips. Caroline's focus snaps to him. She steps closer, bending her knees until they're of a height. His eyes blink open, hazy and blue, trained on her face. He jerks once he recognizes her, hisses out in pain as he fights against the ropes. Caroline gives in to her desires and rests her hand on his chest, strokes her thumb against the skin of his collarbone. She can feel his heart beating, quickly, like hers is. He licks his lips and she watches the motion, finds it far more fascinating than she should. His voice is a low rasp when he speaks, "What did you…"

Astrid speaks up, "Caroline didn't strike you. I'm afraid I ordered that."

His eyes narrow, his body tensing under Caroline's hand. "Oh? Might I ask why?"

"We protect our own. You and your brother were armed, Caroline was alone. I acted. Hastily, perhaps."

The near admission of fault has Caroline turning to gape at Astrid. She receives a grin in return and Astrid rocks back a step. "I don't think you're in any danger, do you?"

Caroline shakes her head immediately, relieved that she doesn't have to voice or justify the truth of what she feels. Astrid had been on that first ship, has been sailing with Caroline in the six winters since. Caroline's never been more grateful for her trust.

"Untie them, feed them. Deal with any wounds and take a few men with you when you escort them back to their village." Astrid holds Caroline's eyes for a long moment, conveying another set of orders. She's to note the location of the village, any details about what sort of goods they have or might be in need of.

Caroline's relieved Astrid's decided to make friends.

Astrid retreats and Caroline turns back to Niklaus. She slices through the ropes that bind him and he shifts, settling more comfortably against the tree as they fall away. "I wouldn't have hurt you," he tells her.

She hums in acknowledgement, lets her hand curl around his neck, is gentle when she smooths it over the back of his head, searching for any knots that might remain after the blow he'd taken.

"Caroline," he says, with just a hint of a demand.

She presses her palm to his heart again, relishes the rapid pulses of it, a perfect match to hers. She leans in, until their foreheads nearly brush, watches his lashes flutter as he meets her gaze. His hands come up, brushing the loose waves of her hair behind her shoulders. "I know," she tells him. "I knew it by the stream."

He sags back against the tree, his relieved breath sweet against her lips. She's just tilting her face down, intent on taking his mouth with hers.

They're both afflicted with the same strange madness. He'll welcome her kiss.

She rears back when a new groan rings out. Her face heats and Klaus curses, banging his head against the trunk behind him. "Tell me, love. Have you any siblings?"

"No."

His lips curl, the amusement false when coupled with the frustration shining in his eyes. "Lucky you."

Klaus is relishing the quiet, knows it'll be in short supply today. He's not spent time with teenagers in ages but he's expecting the worst. Impertinent questions, minor fruitless rebellions. He's certain he'll be cursing the fact that he can't risk mobilizing The Council by draining a few of them by day's end.

He's got his feet up on the desk, chair tipped back at an angle that's nearly comfortable, when the door to what's technically, if temporarily, his classroom is thrown open.

So nice of Elijah to show up right on schedule.

"Brother!" Klaus greets, lifting his arms wide in welcome. "It's been far too long. I take it you received Caroline's message?"

She'd had to call in several favors to get Elijah's contact information. There'd been much grumbling about dysfunctional families while she'd done so. Klaus, wisely, had refrained from pointing out that she's had a thousand years to reconcile herself to their habits. That she's come to love each of his siblings, to consider them her own.

Elijah's face is pinched as he surveys the classroom. The desks are scuffed, the paint on the windows cracked. Klaus has scrawled "Mr. Micheals" on the board behind him. He's certain Elijah is masking his confusion with distaste. "Why," Elijah says, slow and deliberate, "are you teaching at a high school?"

"The newest doppelganger attends."

Elijah crosses his arms, expression unwavering.

In the interest of cooperation Klaus decides to supply more information. "Now, I'm a bit too old to pass for a student but Caroline isn't. She's ingratiating herself nicely as we speak."

"That still doesn't explain why you're teaching… Geography, isn't it? As I recall that wasn't your strong suit."

Something Caroline had delighted in needling him about as they'd made this plan. Klaus had insisted his aptitude for the subject was just fine. She'd boasted that she'd always been more skilled and he'd parried, insisting it wasn't his fault that he hadn't been taught celestial navigation and other such skills from the cradle. She'd accused him of pouting but he hadn't much minded once she'd crawled into his lap and slipped her dress off.

True disagreements are rare after a thousand years. They still like to make the most of those they exaggerate.

"Well, I wasn't about to let Caroline spend her days here alone, was I? Not with an untriggered wolf, a Bennett witch and a pair of vampires foolish enough to attempt heroics in the doppelganger's name hovering about. Oh, there's a hunter too, he teaches history, but all my intel says he's a bit useless and too fond of drink these days."

Elijah sighs, loud and long suffering. He unbuttons his perfectly tailored suit jacket, perches on the edge of a desk. "Please get to a why, Niklaus."

Klaus sits up, folds his hands over the desk top. "Simple. I know where to find the moonstone. I need a doppelganger, a werewolf and a vampire. I have witches on stand-by. I am going to break this curse."

Not even a twitch of emotion betrays what Elijah's thinking. "Where are Finn, Rebekah and Kol?"

"Safe. As the pictures Caroline sent you prove." She'd taken a cue from the movies, slapped yesterday's edition of the Mystic Falls paper on each of their chests. Snapped photos and sent them to Elijah without further comment. He'd been on a plane within the hour.

"I want them awakened."

Predictable. Unfortunately for Elijah, Klaus has conditions. "When the curse is broken and Mikael is dealt with. When we're safe. With a little help this can all be wrapped up in a month."

It's an unsubtle hint and Elijah's never been stupid. He stands, straightening his sleeves with firm tugs, "What do you need me to do?"

Caroline plants herself in the middle of her assigned homeroom, crosses her legs and waits for the stream of adolescents to arrive. Only a few of them are of any importance – the doppelganger, the Bennett, Stefan, and the Lockwood boy. She knows a few more on sight, those with close associations to her targets.

That's why she recognizes Matt Donovan when he comes in. He's just as pretty as his pictures promised, all big blue eyes and broad shoulders. Caroline makes no attempt to hide her interest in him, the lazy perusal she makes of his body, He blushes a little as he walks passed her desk.

She's got her phone out, can't resist tapping out a quick text. She hadn't seen Klaus that morning; Liz had insisted they eat breakfast together on Caroline's first day. He'd slipped out of her window while it had still been full dark, told her he had an associate to meet up with but that he'd see her later.

Last night had been the full moon and they'd had witches tracking werewolf activity. Hopefully, they'd found a convenient pack or two.

She'd been displeased to wake up alone, disgruntled at her plans for the day. She'd plotted a tiny bit of revenge as she'd dressed, had picked out a tiny, flouncy skirt to wear. Caroline had figured it couldn't hurt with the whole fitting in thing but really, she can't wait to see Klaus' eyes darken when he sees it.

Caroline [8:09 AM]: I don't remember teenage boys being quite so… brawny. Maybe high school won't be that terrible.

Klaus [8:10 AM]: As I recall, you never had much of a taste for boys.

Caroline [8:10 AM]: False. I have enjoyed many a delicious meal courtesy of a boy.

Caroline [8:10 AM]: The cute ones are sweeter.

Klaus [8:10 AM]: Perhaps taste was the wrong word.

Klaus [8:11 AM]: Have you spotted the doppelganger yet? Or are there too many brawny distractions?

Caroline bites the inside of her lip to keep her expression pleasant, the urge to snarl down at her phone strong. He's only baiting her because she'd taunted him first.

Not that she minds. A thousand years and he still gets her blood racing.

Caroline [8:11 PM]: Sounds like someone doesn't want me to leave my window open tonight. And on a night when Liz will be at the station and we don't have to be quiet.

Klaus [8:12 PM]: You're never quiet, love.

Ugh, she can't really deny that.

Klaus [8:12 PM]: But, as much as I love taking you from behind while you muffle your moans in a pillow, I look forward to evenings where we have more options.

Caroline grins, pleased. She's about to ask if Klaus has finally managed to get a hold of a decent house for them (he's insisting it has to be grand for when they wake up the rest of the family) when she hears a familiar laugh and her head snaps towards the door.

She's never heard it from this particular girl but it's identical to Katerina's.

The doppelganger and the Bennett witch are right by her desk when Caroline stands up, letting out a theatrical gasp. "Oh my god, Elena? Bonnie? It's been forever!" She sees confusion on both their faces but Caroline hugs them exuberantly. "I'm so happy you guys still live here!" she exclaims. "I was going to call you as soon as I moved back but I got sooo busy getting all my stuff unpacked…"

"Oh, Caroline!" Elena says, returning the hug. "Your mom told me you were moving back. You look exactly the same!"

It's a struggle to tamp the smugness down. Hadn't Klaus just been needling her at neglecting her task? Not only has she spotted the doppelganger but she's got her on the hook. Caroline's going to have to make sure Klaus makes up for that little comment. Preferably in a king size bed in their new, private, bedroom.

Though she won't turn down something sparkly too.

Kol leads the way back to the village, chattering happily with the woman and the two men from Caroline's camp who are accompanying them. Klaus is nearly certain his infatuation with the blacksmith's offspring has been usurped. Caroline seems content to take the walk slowly and Klaus lingers with her several paces behind, his shoulder brushing hers as they share the narrow path.

She's briefly explained how she'd come to be in their woods, how they'd been knocked far off course by a squall that sprung from nothing. That they were traders, not marauders, She'd taken them on a brief tour of the ships to offer proof, shown them cases upon cases of goods - fabrics and glass beads, pottery and wine. She'd assured Klaus that no one in her group had designs on the land or the resources their village claimed. That their stay would be as brief as possible because they'd been gone from home for too long. She'd even confided that she needed to get back to check on her mother.

Kol had been wide eyed and curious, had asked a steady stream of questions about the lands they'd seen, offered information about their home freely. Klaus had been quieter, watchful; trying to catalogue and memorize Caroline's shifting expressions.

He's not sure if it's the head injury, or just something about Caroline, but he feels as if he needs to know her. He certainly trusts her, hadn't attempted to shush Kol's loose lips, or protest the direct route to the village.

Mikael will be displeased but isn't he always?

"I like this forest," Caroline murmurs. She turns her head to look at him. Her hair's been hastily braided, the thick rope laying over one shoulder. Klaus wishes she'd left it loose. "There are few trees on my family's land; we need the room for crops and cattle. My father used to take me to the mountains, where trees grow tall and thick. He'd have me try to pick the best of them to cut down for the ships. Said I had a good eye."

Klaus lets his head fall back, stares up into the canopy. He's seen boats being built of course, though nothing the size of the vessels Caroline's people had brought. He's just never considered that one tree might be better for the task than another. "Say I want a ship of my own then. Pick me a tree."

Her laugh is soft and delighted. "Oh, you can't pick just one. You need something sturdy, rigid, for the boat's bones. It can't snap when the wind fills the sails. Then you need many softer trees for the rest. Trees that will let you cut them thin, that will bend without breaking. That can take the crashing of the waves."

"Fascinating," Klaus says, and he's not just talking about the information.

She studies him for a long moment, "Why would you need a boat? Your brother seems to have a bit of wanderlust but you didn't show much interest in our travels."

"I'm very interested in where you come from. Where you've been. Where you're going." When she would be going. A small, insistent voice inside is already wondering what it would take to convince her to stay with him.

She scoffs, turning her face away. "Awfully pretty words."

She makes no move to increase the distance between them. Klaus takes a chance, finding her hand and taking it. "Why thank you. I meant every one of them."

"Did you?" she shoots back. Klaus wonders if she's actually skeptical or if she just thinks she should be. He's been watching her every moment he's been able since he first stumbled upon her in that clearing. He knows how often her eyes flit to him, how hastily she tears them away. He's confident that he's not alone in his confusion, that she has the same wants distracting her, similar needs racing just under her skin.

"I did," he tightens his grip on her hand, fights a triumphant smile when she returns the pressure. "And I look forward to proving it."

She has all the same classes as Elena and Bonnie (thanks to Ms. Bartlett in the front office for, ahem, cooperating) and by lunch Caroline's confident she'll merit an invite to whatever big party happens Friday night. She'd brought her own meal – no way is she enduring whatever factory made slop the cafeteria serves – so she's sitting at the table waiting for her new friends to join her when another text from Klaus flashes across her screen.

Klaus [12:26 PM]: Did you have a good morning?

Caroline [12:26 PM]: It's been productive.

Caroline [12:27 PM]: This doppelganger is actually nice. Like, genuinely. It's creepy.

Klaus [12:28 PM]: You must admit you have certain biases, love.

"Excuse you," Caroline mutters before she catches herself. She glances around to make sure no one's paying attention – no need to get a reputation as a weirdo who talks to herself.

Caroline [12:29 PM]: I maintain that I am an excellent judge of character.

The first doppelganger she'd met had sensed Caroline was a threat from the beginning, had made a foolish attempt to stake her claim on Klaus even as she tried to hold on to Elijah. Tatia hadn't known there was magic bigger than her allure in play.

Caroline has no regrets about eating her.

When they'd found the second doppelganger, had tried to lure her in, Caroline had posed as a housemaid while Katerina had resided with them, had been treated with dismissiveness on the girl's best days, rudeness and scorn on her worst.

Then she'd run, ruining years of work. That hadn't endeared her to Caroline, though she'd grudgingly respected Katerina's above average survival skills.

Both of the doppelgangers had touched Klaus far more than they should have and Caroline's not ashamed of her tendency to hold a grudge.

She's never been good at sharing what's hers.

Caroline [12:30 PM]: I assume yours is also going well? The cafeteria is abuzz with whispers about how the new geography teacher is a regulation hottie.

She's doing her best to tune out the giggles and the breathless whispers about Mr. Michael's dimples and the way his jeans fit. Her fangs are beginning to itch to burst through her gums and that would totally blow her cover.

Klaus [12:27 PM]: Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?

Klaus [12:27 PM]: How very flattering.

A tray clatters onto the table across from Caroline before she can reply with something appropriately ego deflating. She wrinkles her nose at the brown lump of a meat like substance plopped in the center. Matt Donovan digs in, doesn't seem to mind the taste. He chews and swallows and Caroline awards him points for table manners. He flashes a welcoming smile, "Caroline Forbes, right? It's been a while."

"Ages," she agrees.

He drums his fingers on the table, expression growing sheepish. "Sorry about that time I popped off your doll's head. And the kindergarten crayon breaking incident."

She wonders if the girl in Atlanta still remembers these infractions. If she'd be quick to forgive and forget. If she shares Caroline's stubbornness as well as her name. Her agenda requires she be accepted by the doppelganger so Caroline matches his friendliness, "Bygones, Matt, don't worry. You've certainly grown up."

He flushes, shy and boyish but definitely pleased. "Thanks, Care." He nods down at her phone, "Who are you texting?"

Caroline tenses, but only for a second. "Uh, my boyfriend."

The word feels awkward in her mouth. In over a thousand years she's never referred to Klaus that way.

She smells the wolf before she sees him. "Already breaking my heart, Caroline Forbes? Please don't tell me you're wrapped up in a long distance thing." He slides in next to her, close enough that his thigh presses into hers.

She doesn't shy away, treats the Lockwood boy to a smile. No need to alienate him, not when she needs an invitation into his house to swipe the moonstone. "Something tells me your heart will survive," she teases. Caroline squeezes his arm, her hand lingering. "I'll but in a good word for you with the girls once I make the cheerleading squad."

He laughs, ripping open a bag of chips. Caroline takes one when it's offered.

Elena and Bonnie arrive at the table, helping themselves to seats. Matt's focus swivels to Elena and Caroline, familiar with the inexplicable allure that clings to a doppelganger, expects Tyler to be equally besotted. She blinks in surprise when she turns to finds him still focused on her. Bonnie tosses a grape at his head, "its Caroline's first day. Let her settle in before you attempt to be charming," she chides.

"I tried, I failed," he says, with a theatrical sigh. "She's got a boyfriend."

Caroline wonders if Tyler has a mate nearby, if they've met. If that's something that can be used. Klaus as an untriggered wolf had been susceptible to Tatia, her hold on him only fading once he and Caroline had met and grown close.

"How long have you and your boyfriend been together?" Bonnie asks.

Caroline shakes her head, tries not to laugh. "Honestly? It feels like it's been forever."

Caroline's in the village's square, inspecting the weaving some of the women do. The tapestries are lovely, the work fine and intricate. She should be focused on what kind of deal she can make, how to barter the best price, but she can barely focus, too busy stewing in what she's going to pretend is anger.

She'll never admit to the hurt, the healthy dollop of jealousy. Niklaus Mikaelson, peddler of pretty words and purveyor of lies, doesn't deserve it.

She hears her name ring out, his voice already familiar. She bends closer to the piece she's got in her hands, hoping he'll take the hint and find something else to occupy him. Surely Tatia, with her mocking eyes and berry stained lips, is still around to snag his attention? He is promised to her, after all.

"Caroline!" Klaus calls, quieter now that he's only a few paces away. "When did you get here? You look…"

Her eyes are narrow when she faces at him and he reels back a step, the compliment dying on his lips. She feels silly enough that she'd worn her single fine dress today, that she'd worn a pretty jeweled brooch on her cloak and taken pains with her hair. It flows in loose curls down her back and she'd endured the ribbing of her entire crew as she'd left for the village.

If he calls her beautiful she's not sure she'll be able to resist unsheathing the blade she's got strapped to her thigh. "Klaus," she greets stiffly. She turns her back on him without bothering with further pleasantries, not trusting herself to utter them without embellishment.

He's obviously flummoxed by her coldness, remains hovering at her side. "Caroline," he tries again, soft and somehow intimate. "Are you…"

Her will to freeze him out snaps, words spilling form her at a rapid pace, "I'm perfectly fine. I've been getting acquainted with your neighbors. There's a woman who makes the most impressive potions, she was kind enough to offer me a few samples. And I met… what was her name? Dark hair, dark eyes, unfairly beautiful."

"Tatia," Klaus supplies, sounding even more alarmed.

"That was it. I hope you two will be very happy together," Caroline spits. She can't hide the venom anymore and she whirls, offering the weavers a tight smile before she lifts her skirts and takes hurried strides into the woods.

The woods that had reminded her of home.

She hates that there are tears in her eyes, blinks furiously and refuses to let them fall. She can hear Klaus crashing through the brush behind her. She can't move as quickly in skirts as she can in her usual attire and again she rails at her vanity.

"Wait!" Klaus calls. "Just wait. I don't understand why you're angry."

Caroline laughs, sharp and high with no true amusement, coming to a stop. "Tell me, Klaus, were you just looking for a tumble before you married? You could have just said so. I'd likely not have obliged, despite how comely you are, but there was no need to offer words of devotion."

He has the nerve to gape at her. "Married? I'm not getting married."

"Oh? The lovely Tatia seems to think you're about to offer for her. Says that you've been… close for months."

Tatia had been significantly more explicit but Caroline refuses to give those words any more power over her. She'd recognized the sweetly venomous tone the other woman had used, had known her reaction was being savored. That Tatia had wanted to cause Caroline pain.

"Did she mention that she's also been close with my brother? That she's unwilling to choose between us despite the fact that we've both asked her to?"

She studies Klaus closely, searching for any hint that he's lying to her. He's watching her just as carefully, poised to spring like he's afraid she'll run again and he's determined to give chase. He appears truthful, and desperate.

"So? You've still been dallying with her, haven't you? She had very complimentary things to say about your mouth."

His jaw clenches tight, a hint of color appearing high on his cheeks. "I had been, yes. But I have no desire to continue."

She wants to dismiss the words. She'd believed him last time, had been hurt because of it. She doesn't owe him her trust. And yet, she cannot hold tight to her anger, feels it waning under the intense longing with which Klaus regards her. Stay, her heart says, stay stay stay. Such a silly, stubborn muscle.

Her feet remain rooted on the path. "Say I believe you," Caroline says, still haughty.

He takes a slow step forward, then another. "Caroline," he pleads. "Believe me."

Oh, how she wants to.

Klaus pushes farther, "I fell asleep thinking of you. I woke eager to see you. I was heading to the shore when someone told me visitors were in the village center. I doubled back, hoping it was you."

He lifts a hand, offers it to her. Caroline's fingers tangle in her skirts, the desire to take it, take him, is overwhelming. "I don't understand this," she mutters.

"Nor do I. But you can't tell me you don't feel what I do. That you don't want me as I do you."

"No, I can't," Caroline admits. Klaus' posture eases, relief softening his features. Still, she makes her hands stay at her sides. "You should know, I abhor liars." It's a warning and she lifts her eyes to Klaus', hoping the meaning of her words will be absorbed.

That he understands there will be no second chances.

"Then I won't lie to you," he promises.

His hand encloses hers, warm and firm. It feels good, right.

Her heart races, with joy this time. Mine, it whispers, heavy and content.

Caroline hadn't known of magic then, if she had, perhaps, she'd have recognized a binding.

The front door's not locked. Burglars aren't really a concern for them; anyone stupid enough to break in deserves to get eaten.

Klaus had texted an address after the final bell and, so far, she's impressed. The house is large, secluded, with easy access to the woods. "Honey, I'm home!" Caroline shouts. She elongates the last word as obnoxiously as she can and by the time the sound stops echoing through the foyer Klaus is standing in front of her. He's got a pair of glasses perched on his nose and honestly, they're working for her. The rest of his attempt at a teacher's ensemble isn't that far from his preferred outfits. He's just swapped out his usual Henley with a charcoal button up. "Ooh, I see you took my advice about the rolled up sleeves."

She's not alone in her perusal. Nor in her appreciation. Klaus is taking in her outfit, eyes fixed to the length of bare thigh her plaid skirt reveals. "Someone's been to the mall," he drawls.

"With the sheriff. Mother daughter bonding, all that. She didn't like this skirt either."

Klaus' speeds towards her. His hands land on her hips, his mouth dragging up her neck as he backs her against the door. "I didn't say I didn't like it. I just dislike all the other eyes that have enjoyed it."

She laughs, her head tipping back as his mouth opens over her pulse point. She winds a hand into his hair, hops up to wrap her legs around his hips. "It was a big hit with the brawny boys," she taunts.

A rough noise sounds from low in Klaus' throat, his hands slide under the skirt as he grinds his hips into hers. He snaps the band of her panties against her and Caroline moans in pleasure when she feels the scrape of his teeth, shuddering in anticipation of a bite.

He does so like to use his teeth when he gets riled.

A pointed "Ahem," sounds from above them and Caroline pries her eyes open to find Elijah on the second floor landing. She squeals in delight and Klaus groans in aggravation. He lets her down, his lingering hands showing his reluctance, and she speeds up the staircase. She throws her arms around Elijah, and he endures it, because after a thousand years he's learned to pick his battles.

"Elijah Mikaelson, as I live and breathe!" she exclaims, once she's squeezed him sufficiently. "Well, breathe, at least. The living thing is up for debate. Depending on your philosophical leanings."

"Good afternoon, Caroline," he returns, stiff and proper and slightly disapproving.

She's really missed him.

"So you got my texts? Clued in to the fact that Klaus and I haven't gone full evil?"

"I did receive your messages. Niklaus has filled me in on the… particulars."

She turns to confirm. Klaus nods when she meets his eyes. She'll need the details later but, for now, she's satisfied.

Caroline claps her hands, bounces on her toes. "So, since you're standing here, and no violence has happened, and not trying to stab either one of us with convenient hunks of wood, does that mean you're in?"

"I will help you with the ritual. I'll stand with you against Mikael."

Elijah's word has always been good. Caroline considers making up a secret handshake and demanding her perform it with her, just to mess with him, but she decides to save that for later. It's something Kol should witness, she thinks.

For now, she'll play at being a proper lady of the house.

She loops her arms through Elijah's tows him down the stairs. "Since I am certain this place has been stocked with all sorts of fancy booze, I think a celebratory drink is called for. Klaus, where am I going?"

"Down the hall," he supplies indulgently. "Third door on the left."

The room he directs her too is gorgeous, huge windows look out on to lush grounds, buttery leather sofas are clustered around a coffee table that's definitely an antique. She pauses, releases Elijah, spinning to take it all in. She bumps into Klaus, and he hands her a glass of bourbon. "I take it the house meets with your exacting standards, love?"

She smiles sweetly, leaning in close enough to kiss him. She'd meant it to be quick, playful, but Klaus deepens it, his hand sinking into her hair as his tongue slides past her lips.

She ignores Elijah's throat clearing. It's been ages since she'd had to tune out his admonishing noises but, once upon a time, she'd been a pro. She's a bit breathless when Klaus releases her, and he's very smug about it. She shoves him away, taking a deep drink. "I'll reserve judgement until we test out the beds."

"Not mine," Elijah interjects sternly.

In the name of unity, Caroline supposes she can oblige him.

Every month, the night before the full moon, the village holds a feast. They build the bonfire high, roast enough game for everyone to enjoy. The musicians come out and everyone, from the very young to the very old, dances in the flickering flames. It's a night of joy to remember when they're scared and shivering in the caves, tensing when a howl comes too close.

Caroline had arrived just a few days after the last full moon and Klaus is eager to show her this particular tradition. He'd explained about the wolves, how dangerous they are. She hadn't believed him and he thinks she still might wonder if he's playing some sort of trick on her. Still, she has promised that she and her crew will stay aboard a boat, far enough from shore to be safe.

He's rushing through the last of his chores, thankful Mikael's away from home. Caroline's arrival, the ongoing trading between her people and his, has kept his father distracted and his attention focused away from his children. Klaus has been taking advantage, spending every spare minute with Caroline.

Kol's helping with the horses, dragging in bags of feed while Klaus deals with the stalls.

He heaves the last one near a trough, eyeing Klaus mockingly. "I do hope you're planning on washing. Lovely Caroline won't want to dance with you, let alone allow you to lure her into the woods, if you reek of manure."

"Is that supposed to be news to me, Kol?" Obviously, he's already considered that. He's got fresh clothes folded on his bed and will run down to the stream for a bath.

"So you admit, you're planning on luring her into the woods?" Kol's stopped working, is leaning over the door to the stall, face twisted in a leer. Klaus is tempted to shovel a pile of soiled straw in his face. He doesn't have time to start a war, however.

Klaus sighs, exasperated. "I doubt I could lure Caroline anywhere. If she happens to wish to take a walk while everyone is at the bonfire I'm not going to object."

"A walk?" Kol manages to imbue the word with a wealth of innuendo. "Please, Niklaus, you won't be walking."

That is none of his brother's business. He turns from Kol without bothering to reply. They've been free with such details in the past but Klaus has no desire to share the private moments he and Caroline have stolen. Memories of how her skin quivers under his hands, the way her breath grows short when he kisses her throat, the soft little sounds of pleasure he's pulled from her, are his alone.

"Have you asked her to marry you, yet?" The abrupt change of subject has Klaus reeling, as does the casualness with which Kol asks the question.

Klaus' shovel falls and he stands, whirling to eye his brother with surprise, "We've not known each other long."

"Does that matter? You haven't looked at, or even thought of, I'd wager, another since you first set eyes on her. She's equally smitten. It's rather sickening for the rest of us to watch."

Klaus flounders, his mouth open, trying to figure out which part of Kol's statement he can refute. He needn't have bothered because Kol isn't done. "Besides, her ships are almost ready to sail. She'll be packing up to leave soon."

"And you think I should stop her?"

Kol stares at him as if he's wondering if Klaus has always been so dim. "No, I think you should offer to go with her."

He's fantasized about such things. Hadn't let himself really think it a possibility. "I couldn't…"

"Escape this place? Our father?"

"Bekah and Henrik…"

Again, Kol's prepared an argument. "Bekah's old enough, and eager, to marry. She'll be out of this household soon. And father would never touch Henrik. Not like…"

Kol's eyes drop, his face reddening. It's not a subject they ever discuss, the frequent beatings Mikael doles out. Klaus doesn't have to do much to earn one, he's his father's favorite target. But Kol's quick temper, his penchant for mischief, means he's known the power of Mikael's fists and the sharp lash of his belt.

"And what of you?" Klaus asks. He could never leave, not knowing Kol would bear the brunt of their father's anger.

"I thought I'd go with you. See Caroline's home, some of the places she's sailed to. I think I'm old enough for an adventure. If I made my own fortune Father could no longer tell me what to do. He doesn't let me practice magic but there have to be other witches out there, don't you think?"

"Seems likely," Klaus agrees absently. His mind is whirling with hope, plans he hadn't allowed himself to truly make. "I don't know that I could get father to agree."

"Who says he has to? Caroline doesn't know if her father's alive. Hasn't seen her mother since she first left home. She can scrape together her own dowry but why should she have to? You could just leave. Ignore the traditions. Pull Henrik and Bekah and Elijah aside to explain. They'll understand. Hopefully, by the time we make our way back here, Father will be rotting."

Klaus smiles, even though he knows he probably shouldn't be joking about his father's death. "You've put an awful lot of thought into this."

Kol's expression is all superiority. "Someone has to. You've been far too busy staring at Caroline, composing sappy love poems or whatever such nonsense puts that besotted look on your face, to do much thinking."

He's just about done with the stall and, since he's fairly certain he'll be taking Kol's advice, there's no need to fear his father's wrath for much longer.

Kol lets out a rather unmanly screech when he's showered with fragrant straw but Klaus is already running towards the woods before his brother can think to retaliate.

Elijah's departed to poke around town, has promised to touch base with some of his contacts in hopes of getting more information on the Salvatore they're not acquainted with. Hopefully, Damon's recent brush with Caroline's wrath will encourage him not to stick his nose where it doesn't belong. Caroline had slipped upstairs an hour or so ago, claiming she's got to get ready for a party she's been invited to. She'd found the master bedroom on the third floor easily enough, had begun to blast cheery pop music as soon as she'd stepped out of the shower.

She's in the closet when he walks in, muttering to herself, apparently displeased with the selections she finds. "Do I need to eat a minion?" he calls, only partially joking. "I thought by now Evelyn would know your tastes."

Caroline doesn't find the comment funny. "You are not eating Evelyn. She was the best modiste in France in 1821. And her taste is still flawless. I just can't wear any of this to a high school party."

"I suppose you're right."

Her head pops out of the closet, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I'm right?" she parrots. "Did you somehow become a connoisseur of teen girl fashion in your single day in high school?"

Klaus flops back onto the bed, hoping the angle conceals his smile from her. Caroline does so hate when he laughs at her. Won't believe him if he claims to find her pique endearing. "Truthfully, I didn't note many specifics. A lot of cheap fabrics and odd color combinations. Unfortunate cuts. Nothing your usual style."

She must be placated by his words because she emerges from the closet, climbing on to the bed to curl into his side. She wears only lingerie, a sheer pale pink set. It's a pity he's certain she'll be cross if he rips them immediately off of her.

Sleeping these last few nights in the Sheriff's home hasn't been easy.

Her head comes to rest over his heart, her arm coming to rest across his stomach. "To be fair, I was hardly a fashion plate at their age."

He huffs out a laugh, slipping an arm under her. He yanks her on top of him but Caroline doesn't protest, settling between his spread legs and propping herself up so she can look at him. "You left home because of a famine. You'd been living on a ship, a tiny ship by today's standards, for three years by the time you were high school age."

She smiles down at him playfully, fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt. "Yeah, and my clothes must have been totally out of style. Had I ever made it back home I'm sure there would have been mean girls coming out of the woodwork to mock my worn cloak and ratty linens."

He tugs on one of her curls, "This is a ridiculous conversation, sweetheart."

She feigns a glare, "Maybe. But I'm just trying to soften you up so I can grill you about Elijah."

Ah. He should have known. "Do you think he's not trustworthy?"

"Do you trust him?"

"I do," Klaus says seriously. "With this, what we're offering, he's not going to betray us. He's only ever wanted us to live as a family. With Mikael gone we can do that and we finally have the means to end him. And he gave his word. You know how stuffy he is about honor."

He'd braced for a fight but Caroline nods. "Okay," she agrees and Klaus is shocked she has so few qualms.

"Okay?" he repeats incredulously. "Did anyone at school offer you illicit substances?"

She shakes her head, a fond smile pulling at her lips. "When we're this close I can't help but feel you. You trust Elijah completely. You believe we're going to succeed. I can feel all of that so I believe it to."

It's part of their bond, the pull between mates that had been denied from him when his mother had bound his werewolf side. Caroline still feels it and has tried to explain how it works, that it's a passive ability. In the beginning, when they'd been struggling to adapt to their new bodies and lives, she'd spent many hours assuring him she couldn't read his thoughts or manipulate his emotions.

He rolls them, pinning her hands over her head. "How are you going to like it when I can feel you too, hmm?"

She hooks a leg over his hip, a low sound of amusement caught in her throat. "I think you're going to have a harder time adjusting. It was pretty overwhelming in the beginning, even when you were miles away. I might need to take Bekah to Italy and do some shopping while you get a handle on it."

"No," Klaus denies instantly. They've had to separate in the past, when Mikael had gotten too close. If it's not a necessity, meant to ensure her safety, he sees no reason to deny himself the pleasure of having her near. "We'll go somewhere secluded. Together. I'll ensure you're perfectly calm and content and we can experiment."

She wriggles under him, tipping her chin up to brush her lips against his. "Oooh, experiments. Sounds kinky."

"Speaking of," Klaus says, releasing her hands and propping himself up on his elbows.

Caroline's brows rise with interest, her blue eyes darkening as her hands grow bolder. She removes his shirt quickly, flinging it aside. She's gentler with his glasses, setting them on the bedside table. She smirks, running a nail down the length of his spine, "Are we gonna test out the bed now?"

He does so love it when they're on the same page. Can't imagine how much better it'll be once he can feel her as she does him. Klaus kisses her, muffling her giggle, lets her hands go so he can tear her bra away. "I want another set," she demands, breathy as he kisses her throat, his thumb rubbing over her tightening nipple.

She arches up as he drags his mouth lower, "I instructed Evelyn to order two of everything. I'm sure she did."

"And you wanted to…" the lecture dies when he sets his teeth to her, scraping over the stiff point her nipple's become. He slips his hand between her thighs before she can regain her train of thought. He's gentle, stroking her through the lace, even as her hips shift up in demand. She tolerates the light contact for several long minutes, her skin growing hot while the scrap of silk dampens. He hides a smile in the underside of her breast when she whines impatiently, "Tell me what you want, Caroline."

She grumbles, head tossing against the pillows. "You already ruined the bra. Just rip the rest."

"Say please, love."

She glares at him and he wonders what kind of mood she's in. Will she play the game he's started? Will she refuse, push back? Both options appeal.

She sags back into the mattress, "Please, Klaus. Touch me."

He's happy to. The tissue thin fabric is easy to dispose of and Klaus slides farther down, sinking his teeth into the smooth skin of her belly as he presses into her folds. The noise he makes when he finds her slick is satisfied and Caroline props herself up on her elbow to watch him. Her body arches up when his thumb rubs over her clit, her breath catching in her throat. Klaus pins her thighs to the bed, opening her to his gaze. Her stomach tenses, her breathing growing ragged and Klaus decides he's teased her enough.

For today.

Her hands slide into his hair as he parts her folds, her grip tightening when he licks. He knows her body and he's quick to give her what she needs, using his mouth on her clit and sliding a finger inside her. She moans, high pitched and needy, her slick walls clenching and relaxing as he fills her.

He wants her louder.

He stops trying to hold her down, lets her writhing guide him. He speeds up until she's rocking up against his mouth, making such pretty sounds. He can see she's got her fingers of her free hand tugging at her nipple. Her eyes are red, delicate black veins creeping over her features.

He lets his own face change, feels her tense in excitement. "Tell me what you want, Caroline."

"Teeth," she gasps, as he'd known she would. "When I come."

"You're so close," he murmurs, head dipping. He swirls his tongue over clit her and her thighs shake, she says his name when he sucks, pressing a second finger inside of her. He curls them, a practiced motion and she goes still for a long moment. Then her body shakes loose, ragged groans spilling from her parted lips as she comes.

She loses control when he drinks from her, like she always does. Cries his name, calls to gods they've long since stopped believing in.

Klaus takes it as a compliment.

Because she's Caroline, her mind always churning, she remembers what he'd been trying to distract her from. When she rises above him, throws a leg over his hip and wraps her hand around his cock, he's quick to agree Evelyn deserves a bonus.

It had taken a bit of coaxing to get Klaus to dance with her. They'd been clumsy in the beginning, Caroline unsure of the steps. Neither had minded the stumbles that sent their bodies crashing into each other, nor having to grip shoulders or hips in an attempt to keep their balance.

Caroline can feel damp curls sticking to the back of her neck, knows she must be red faced and sweat soaked. Klaus doesn't seem to mind, his eyes drinking her in like she's the only woman he can see. She slows as the music does, lifting her hair in an attempt to catch a bit of a breeze. She leans in, closer than necessary but she wants to make sure Klaus can hear her, "I think I need a drink."

"Wine? Or Ale?"

"Just water," Caroline requests. She has a fairly good idea of where this night will end and she wants to remember every second. To be clear headed when she touches him. It's been pleasing so far and they've kept most of their clothes on. Caroline's eager to see how much better it can be when they're skin to skin.

Klaus nods, for a few seconds longer than necessary, his eyes hopeful and fixed on her face. "Would you like to take a walk with me? Maybe back to the stream?"

It's the invite she's been waiting for.

Caroline lifts up onto her toes, brushes her lips against his cheek, "I thought you'd never ask." She pulls back enough so she can catch his shifting expressions, see nervousness become relief then melt into happy excitement. He tips his head towards the tree line. "Meet you there?"

Caroline decides to be clear about what she wants. "Can you find us a blanket?"

A smile tugs at his lips and his hair falls into his face. "I may have already left one out there." He's a bit hesitant again, like he expects her to object to his presumptuousness. She cups his jaw, stretches up once more, slow this time, and Klaus meets her halfway. She inhales sharply at the first soft brush of his mouth, shivers as his hands find her waist. He draws her closer, glides his hands up her back as he deepens the kiss. Caroline sighs as her lips part, as she tastes him. They quicken, pressing closer, the kiss heating as they sink into it.

The music swells again, the dancing growing more vigorous. They break apart when they're jostled and Caroline touches her swollen lips, fighting to tame her smile.

"Water," Klaus rasps. "I'll get you water."

He turns and she loses him in the crowd. Caroline's not concerned as she makes her way to the edge of the forest.

She knows he'll be back.

He's waiting up for Caroline, sketchbook in his lap. She's at yet another party. Given how little the students at Mystic Falls High seem to stay in and study Klaus isn't surprised by the abysmal scores on yesterday's pop quiz. Tonight's gathering is at Tyler Lockwood's house and Caroline's planning on switching out the moonstone.

He'd been tempted to follow her. If Alaric Saltzman can keep company with his students without anyone batting an eye surely Klaus, physically younger (and according to Caroline infinitely less creepy than her history teacher), could attend one little party?

Caroline had refused when he'd suggested it. Claiming (and perhaps she had a point) that he'd hover and blow her plan. She'd been idly flirting with Tyler since she'd met him, had invented boyfriend woes. She'd planned on drinking excessively and making a move tonight, feigning remorse Monday morning and claiming a new devotion to her long distance beau.

It's just after 1 AM when the door creaks open and Caroline's bare feet make their way towards the study he's planted in. She drops her shoes by the door, looking tired and aggravated. She tugs his sketchbook from his unresisting hands, climbs into his lap without further preamble, burying her nose in her throat.

Klaus tosses his pencil towards the coffee table, running his hands down her sides. He's not particularly concerned, she'd have called if she'd run into trouble. He thinks her role's just wearing on her. "Did everything go smoothly?"

Caroline sighs, shifting back until she can reach into her bra. She fishes out the moonstone, setting it in his hand before returning to her previous position. She inhales deeply, letting out a contented hum. "You smell good," she mumbles.

"Thank you," Klaus replies, absent. He's still got one hand on Caroline but the other's raised the moonstone to the light, examining it from every angle.

Caroline doesn't seem to mind his split attention, intent on her own plans. "On Monday I'm going to compel every store owner in town. Maybe the surrounding ones too. They need to stop ordering Axe body spray. I'm a freaking vampire, I shouldn't be able to get headaches, but I swear I have one."

His hand rises, sifting through her hair and rubbing the back of her neck. "Sorry you had to endure another evening of toxic fumes."

She pokes his stomach, hard, clearly not appreciating his wit. "A little gratitude for your brilliant soulmate who got her hands on a crucial ingredient for the upcoming ritual, please."

"Can't you feel my appreciation," he teases.

"A little verbal affirmation is only polite."

He smiles at her snippy tone, setting the moonstone aside so he can devote both hands to rubbing away the knots in her neck. Caroline makes a noise of contentment, resting more heavily against him. "How'd you manage it?" Klaus asks.

"Pretended to be impressed with how fancy Tyler's house is. Oohed and ahhed over paintings and tacky gold candlesticks. He was eager to show me the moonstone. Then I told him I wanted a beer and switched it when he left. Way easier than Plan B."

"Which was?"

"Compelling him to think I let him see my boobs."

He knows she's goading him, and that, half asleep as she is, it's more habit that anything else. "Now we just have to trigger his wolf."

"Already done," Caroline murmurs. Her words are beginning to slur but they're still heavy with satisfaction. "The kid really should have heeded all those ads warning about the dangers of driving and texting."

"Overachiever," he teases.

"You like it."

He always has.

Klaus stands, scooping her into his arms. She'd checked two major tasks off their list today, the least he can do is tuck her into bed. "Have I mentioned lately that you're brilliant, love?"

She laughs, gets comfortable in his arms before turning her head to press a kiss to his chest. "You can tell me in the morning. Every morning, preferably."

Klaus will do his very best.

She feels oddly shy now, stays quiet as they make their way towards the stream. The noise from the village dies down, replaced with the rustle of the trees, the occasional call of a bird. She keeps sneaking glances at Klaus, has seen him hurriedly look away a few times, knows he's got some nerves of his own attempting to burst free.

Caroline finds that she's glad. She's not a novice at sex, hasn't felt butterflies like this since her first time and that was more because she'd only known what to expect based on things she'd been told. Laying with a man has never meant anything before, not like this. It's nice to know she means something to Klaus too.

He darts ahead of her when they're almost to the stream, heads to a pair of trees and yanks down a blanket that had been tucked off the ground between the trunks. She thinks his hands shake as he lays it on the ground. He sits down, looks up at her, offers a hand. Caroline takes it, falling to her knees. His hand toys with the brooch that holds up one of the straps on her dress. "Have you…" he asks, hesitant.

"Done this? Yes. Is that a problem?"

Klaus shakes his head, his hand coming to cup the back of her neck. He tugs her into him, kissing her hungrily, and Caroline rests her hands on his shoulders. His fingers are nimble, and when her dress slips from her shoulders she pulls back. Klaus stretches to set the brooches on the far corner of the blanket. Unclasped her dress begins to fall and Caroline shoves it down further. It's a cool night but her skin feels heated and her hands tangle with Klaus' at the bottom of her undershirt, both of them eager to get it off.

He gasps when it's discarded, his hand coming to splay across her belly. His hands have wandered beneath her clothes before but this time she's bare underneath. She hadn't seen the point of binding her breasts. He watches her carefully as his hand moves up. Caroline bites her lip when his rough palm scrapes the sensitive underside of her breast, she grabs his wrist when he makes to retreat.

"No, I want your hands."

Klaus shakes his head with something like amazement before he grasps her. His lips part, lowering to kiss along the curve of the neglected breast. She fumbles for the laces of his vest as he explores, the heat and wetness of his mouth a potent distraction. She's trembling with anticipation but Klaus is still, tense. She wants to know if her hands on his skin can induce the same deliciously shivery feelings.

She can't seem to find the end of the string, "Help me," Caroline asks, the word rough with her need. He pulls her closer, settling her hips over his. She can feel him, hard and pressing against her through the layers they wear and she grinds down. She moans when it only makes her ache more.

Klaus hisses, his head falling back, and she mouths along the tight tendons of his neck. "Please," she coaxes. "I want to touch you too."

His motions are jerky, she thinks he might snap a cord, but soon he's shrugging out of his vest, lifting his arms so she can pull his shirt over his head. Her hands fall to his skin, greedy for the heat of him, eager to learn where he's sensitive. He's lean and his muscles grow tight under her fingertips, his abdomen taut as she traces the trail of hair that disappears into his waistband.

"I wish I could see you better," Caroline muses. The moon is nearly full, the stars bright, but the thick canopy of trees allows little light to penetrate.

"Some other time," Klaus promises. "I'll have you in front of a fire. Watch the flames throw their colors on your pretty soft skin."

Caroline shifts restlessly, the image he's offered filling her mind. She finds that she wants that too, a place that she shares with Klaus, four walls and a roof and a home that's just theirs. He groans when she rubs against his cock, his hands clamping down on her hips, not allowing her to speed up. "Easy, love."

Caroline fights his hold, her body straining for more friction. She's wet enough to take him, feels her arousal dampening her undergarments. She wants them off.

Caroline rolls to the side, on to her back, shimmies to get her dress the rest of the way down. Klaus is eager to help, his lips wet and breathing uneven. "Now you," Caroline demands, tucking her fingers underneath his belt and tugging.

He yanks at his laces, rising up to shove the rest of his clothing aside. Then he's lowering his body to rest over hers, his skin fever hot and growing slick. Caroline's thighs part to welcome him, her hands drawing his mouth back to hers. She moans when she feels his cock glide through her folds, arches her back to encourage the contact. Klaus breaks their kiss with a groan, his features strained. "Tell me you're ready," he grits out. He reaches down to check, his fingers teasing the seam of her. His eyes widen when he finds her slick,

"I've been thinking about this for days," Caroline admits.

A rough noise rattles out of Klaus and he kisses her deeply, his chest crushing her breasts. "Now," she demands, tilting her hips until the blunt head of him presses against where she's the wettest, eyes falling shut when he pushes forward. She loves the stretch, his voice mumbling nonsense about how good she feels, the faint tremors wracking his frame.

"Look at me," he says, voice strained.

She forces her eyes open, finds he's watching her, measuring her reactions. Caroline shifts up, taking him deeper, letting a ragged moan of pleasure ring out. "It's good," she gasps, "perfect, I want…"

She doesn't know what she wants, can't articulate what she feels. She's never quite known anything like this, feels like she might shake apart when he starts to move, that she won't recognize the world once she's climbed this peak.

Klaus seems to be feeling something similar, his eyes wide with wonder. He can't seem to catch his breath either and she can feel his heart pounding. He hesitates when his hips are pressed tight to hers but Caroline shakes her head, bucking up. "Don't stop. More."

He folds his body tight to hers, lips coming to rest against her shoulder. The next snap of his hips has her crying out. Needing something to hold on to her hands clutch his back, nails digging in. Klaus doesn't seem to mind, his pace hurried. He whispers encouragements as her body coils tighter and tighter.

When the tension snaps she makes a noise she doesn't recognize, her muscles quivering for long minutes of intense pleasure. Klaus follows with a hoarse groan, holding her tight as his hips jerk as he finishes. Spent, he lays heavily against her but Caroline likes it, finds it grounding. When he makes to move she finds her voice, blurts, "I want you to leave with me."

It takes a moment for the words to penetrate and then Klaus is smiling, wide and joyful. His voice is thick when he replies, "I'd planned on it, actually. Assuming you'll agree to marry me."

She kisses him, with less finesse than before because she's laughing as she does it. It's all the answer Klaus needs.

Furniture has arrived, great crates of it, and Klaus welcomes the distraction. Befriending the doppelganger is taking up far too much of Caroline's time and attention. At the moment she's at some sort of overnight girls only event. She's texted that they're finally getting into the juicy stuff.

Klaus has little interest in the girl's love life but at least Caroline's sure that she's trusted. That'll be useful for the ritual. Elena Gilbert is hopelessly devoted to her friends. Secure in the illusion of safety Mystic Falls answer. She'll venture out to help a Caroline when she feigns a need.

"Need some assistance?" Elijah asks.

"Are you volunteering to do manual labor?" Klaus taunts.

Elijah doesn't stoop to his level, unfortunately. Merely rolls up his sleeves and picks up a crowbar. "What's all this?"

"I assume our siblings will want comfortable rooms to storm off to once they've vented their grievances."

Elijah makes quick work of a crate and one of the wooden walls hits the floor with a sharp crack. "And you're prepared to allow them that opportunity?"

Klaus knows he won't be particularly graceful about it, imagines it's possible the house and the furniture won't even survive once tempers start flaring making the effort and expense a waste. He's been sufficiently convinced that he owes Finn, Bekah and Kol the opportunity to say their piece.

Or scream it, if they so desire.

"Once the daggers are removed they will no longer remain in my possession. Yours is in the safe in our bedroom if you'd like it."

It's not an easy offer to make but Klaus manages it. He's even passingly gracious. With Mikael gone he'll be free. His siblings will be as well. He won't be able to justify keeping them under lock and key to ensure their safety.

At least, that's what Caroline insists. Klaus can see the truth of it, that doesn't mean he likes it.

Elijah, unfortunately, sees through him. "I would. But I assume there's a catch."

"No catch. Merely… a bit of bad news."

"Oh?" Elijah prompts.

Klaus turns his attention to brushing the dust off a chest of drawers. Caroline had advocated breaking this news gently. Plying Elijah with good wine and flying in a pretentious French chef from Atlanta to make a meal. Klaus didn't know if they had time for that. Maddox had soundproofed the basement but if anyone could break through such a precaution with the sheer force of her will its Katerina Petrova.

"Several of my sources had indicated that Mikael had a new… devotee. That she was making inroads in getting him out of his tomb. Naturally, I couldn't allow that. Not at this delicate stage."

"Niklaus," Elijah says, in that stern lecturing tone that Klaus has not missed, "you're hedging."

He sighs. Decides to give the bad news all in one go. "Katerina's in the basement. She's going to be the vampire in the sacrifice."

The complete absence of emotion Elijah displays, coupled with his unnatural stillness, means he's been rocked by the news. "She was attempting to wake Mikael? Why?"

It's inexplicable, Elijah's need to give Katerina the benefit of the doubt. She hadn't earned it. Klaus points out the obvious, "I assume so he can kill me."

"Killing you means her death as well."

"Yes, well, I believe dear Katerina thinks she's clever enough to have found a loophole. I'm draining her of vervain right now but I'll be sure to inquire about her plans."

Elijah sets the crowbar aside, tearing through the next crate with his bare hands. Klaus winces, prepares for an argument. For Elijah to make a case for Katerina's life. His brother remains silent, destructive, and Klaus decides to leave him to his thoughts.

He'll take part of Caroline's advice now. The good wine is in the cellar. He'll grab a case or two when he checks Katerina's progress.

Caroline wakes terrified, sitting upright in her narrow bed, clutching her chest, her throat feeling raw. She hadn't been dreaming anything frightening in the beginning. She'd been sailing, in one of the small crafts she'd used as a child, Klaus warm and solid at her back.

She'd been ripped from that pleasantness, to an image of the now familiar forest that surrounds Mystic Falls. It had been sinister in her nightmare, shadowy and foreboding. There'd been a boy with her, slight and dark haired. She'd been running, her legs pumping frantically, cuts and scrapes littering her body. She'd only seen the back of the boy but she's fairly certain it had been Henrik.

She'd met Klaus' youngest brother a handful of times now. Found him slow to warm but sweet once she'd coaxed a few words from him.

A howl rings out and Caroline jumps. Those had been in her dream too. Wolves, impossibly large, snarling with bloody teeth.

She shakes the image away, checks to see that her restlessness hasn't awoken anyone else. She's relieved when she finds her crewmates slumbering peacefully, says a silent thanks for all the practice they'd had trying to rest while the seas were rough. She grabs her cloak, picks her way to the stairs, and hopes that some fresh air will chase away her nightmare.

The night is bitingly cold but the goosebumps rising on her skin can't distract her from her unease and Caroline endures an endlessly long night. She gets more and more anxious, her stomach knotting until she can barely choke down water. Her eyes feel gritty when the sun rises and she blinks, sure she must be imagining the bloodstained figure staggering across the sandy shore.

He's still there when she rubs her eyes, recognizable now.

She's diving over the side before she can think to call for the row boat. She strokes powerfully, churning through the water, gets her feet under her as soon as it's shallow enough and barrels towards Klaus. She crashes into him, running her hands over him frantically, checking for injury. He barely seems to feel her touch, doesn't mind that she's dripping freezing saltwater, and merely stares bleakly at her face. "Where are you bleeding?" Caroline demands. "I have to stop it, I can't…"

Klaus' head shakes, he swallows harshly. The rest of Caroline's sentence - lose you, live without you, endure seeing you in pain – is forgotten when he speaks, the words a harsh scratch forced out through a throat clogged with tears. "It's not mine. Henrik…"

He wavers and Caroline's quick to catch him, to brace him when he hits the ground. She blinks back her own tears, pulls Klaus closer, and cradles his head to her shoulder. "Shhh," she soothes. "I understand. You don't have to say it."

Such a small boy couldn't have survived the loss of that quantity of blood.

"It's my fault," he croaks. "He wanted to see the wolves and since I was going to leave with you…" his voice breaks and he shudders, suffering with silent wracking sobs. She holds him tighter, hopes she's enough to hold him together. She murmurs her sympathies and what reassurances she can. She doubts Klaus hears them.

He's lost to his misery, heaping the blame on himself.

Caroline breezes into the room Klaus has claimed for painting. It's two days out from the full moon, they've collected all the necessary ingredients for the ritual, she'd just aced a Chem test, and she feels freaking great.

Is there anything better than a meticulously well thought out plan unfolding flawlessly?

She stops short when she sees Klaus. He's got a brush clasped between his teeth as he reaches out to smudge something on a canvas with his fingertip. He's shirtless, flecks of red, orange and yellow paint dotting his torso. His jeans sit low on his hips and she can't help but ogle the hollows there.

Perhaps her mood's about to get even better.

"Someone's enjoying their sick day," she sing songs.

Greta Martin had arrived early in the morning, Klaus had played hooky to help Maddox bring her up to speed.

Klaus sets aside his palette, drops the brush on the table. He stretches his arms above his head and Caroline watches the motion greedily. He looks decidedly smug as he saunters over. "It's been a productive day."

"How productive?" Caroline presses. Klaus is looking at her the way he does when he's plotting the quickest way to get her naked. And while she doesn't object, she wants to know they're still ahead of schedule.

She does not want to spend another month waking up at 7 AM because she has to get to class. Mornings are meant to be whiled away naked, Klaus at her side. When Mikael is gone Caroline doesn't plan to rise before noon for at least the next decade.

Klaus keeps moving, picking her up. He flashes across the room, setting her down on the raised end of the chaise under the window. "Greta did swimmingly. Studied all the materials we sent, knows just what to do."

"Okay then," Caroline says. "Please continue."

Klaus grins, turning her swiftly. He presses against her back, lifting her hair so it's out of his way. He kisses the side of her neck, drags his mouth to her shoulder.

"Oh dear," he says, attempting his most angelic tone. "It seems that I've ruined your dress with paint."

He's not the slightest bit repentant. At least it's another high school appropriate piece. Floral and cute enough but not something Caroline will mourn. The thin straps snap and then it's pooled at her feet. Her bra quickly follows and then Klaus' hands are cupping her breasts, his thumbs scraping over her nipples. Caroline arches into the touch, her head coming to rest against his shoulder.

"I missed you today," Caroline sighs.

She feels him smile against her skin, "You barely see me at school."

"But I always know you're there. It's… nice."

She's never felt afraid in Mystic Falls, knows she can handle a pair of vampires with less than two centuries to their name. That a washed up hunter and a baby wolf are unlikely to hurt her. The Bennett witch, once she comes into her power, might be a threat, but Caroline and Klaus will be long gone by the time she stops floundering.

It's just comforting to know Klaus has her back, that he'd do anything to keep her safe. She hopes, once the ritual's complete, once the line connecting them goes both ways, that he'll find the same kind of peace in knowing how deeply she loves him.

There's no limit to the lengths she'd go to keep him at her side. She's told him so, has no reason to think he doesn't believe her. It's different to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Caroline's always had the strength of their bond to assure her. Klaus deserves the same certainty.

She's drawn back to the moment by the rasp of Klaus' stubble over her skin. "I missed you too," he admits gruffly.

She grinds back, against his cock, thick behind the zipper of his jeans, is pressed against her ass. "I can tell," she teases. He lifts a hand to his mouth, sucking a fingertip between his lips. He then slips that hand into her panties, drawing tight circles over her clit. She leans more heavily against him, her legs widening to give her more room to work her up.

He allows it for a minute before he urges her forward. "Rest your hands against the arm," he instructs, just before he peels her panties off her hips. Klaus makes quick work of his belt, his pants hit the floor with a heavy thud.

Caroline arches her back when he slips into her, sighing as he presses deeper. She hums her pleasure when he's all the way in, "I vote we get a mirror for this room."

The noise he makes is half a laugh, half a groan. "I adore your brain, sweetheart."

It's not exactly telling her she's brilliant but Caroline will take it.

Waking up after being stabbed through the heart is disorienting. He turns to Bekah first, shakes her, and clutches her close when she opens her eyes. She's hysterical, until the hunger overtakes her. Klaus can't resist the blood offered to him, gulps it greedily.

He feels stronger after but no more clearheaded. His head pounds, like it's is splitting in two, it's a struggle to catch his breath and impossible sort out the intense tangle of emotions he's enduring.

It's only later that he'll realize that not all the panic, nor the confusion, belongs to him.

When he kills, when he turns, it's too much. Klaus runs away, as swiftly as he can manage, ignoring the screams he leaves behind.

Caroline finds him as a wolf.

He's loping through the woods, head down, moving swiftly to where her ships are docked. It hadn't been a conscious decision of a man, but an instinctive need of an animal. She stumbles into their clearing, pale, clutching her arms to her body. She's covered in her heaviest cloak but still shivering.

She goes still when she sees him, smells of fear. Klaus stops moving, makes himself small. Wills her to see him. "Nice Wolf-y," she mutters, attempting to creep around him, towards the path. "You certainly seem friendlier than the snarling wolves I dreamed last night but I'd rather not risk…"

Klaus whines and the noise gives her pause. She stops moving away, bowing her head. "I'm going crazy. I'm just so hungry." She steps into a patch of moonlight and Klaus whines again, startled this time. Caroline's eyes are red, two of her teeth elongated in the same way his had been earlier when he'd given into his own hunger and torn out the Blacksmith's throat.

Somehow, whatever's happened to him, has also happened to her.

He shuffles towards Caroline, staying low, keeping his head down. She wavers, collapses, falling to a heap next to him. She sniffles, sounding defeated. "I don't know what's happening to me. My chest hurts and the sun burned me and Astrid smelled so good. Like the honey cakes my mother baked when I was small. I wanted to…" she trails off and Klaus can hear her shame.

She's delirious and he doesn't think she's fed. Not with how weak she is. He can hear her heartbeat, how slow it is. Her breathing is laboured and her lips cracked. He has to get her blood. He has to make her strong.

He tries for another noise, a soft whuff that he hopes is comforting and not terrifying. Caroline's too far gone to care either way. Her hand lands on his neck, sifting through the thick fur there, and she pauses. Her inhale is shaky, her next words hesitant and small, "At the risk of sounding even crazier… Klaus? Is that you?"

The recognition is the best thing he's ever felt.

He leaps on her, pressing his nose to her neck. Gives her skin a lick that she really does not appreciate if the squeal of indignation she lets loose is any indication. She doesn't try to move away from him, looping her arms around him and squeezing. "I'm glad you found me. I'm sorry for not believing you about the wolves."

He nuzzles her, hoping to convey his forgiveness. He hears a sob catch in her throat, whines in distress. She laughs, but it's watery. "I'm sick and I think… Well, I don't want to die alone."

Klaus growls, rearing back to find her eyes have closed. He nudges her stomach, sharp, lets out a bark. "Don't yell at me," she slurs. "I'm tired."

It's not the time for sleep.

He clamps his teeth around her cloak, digs in and drags her in the direction of his village. She protests, weakly, says that it hurts. He ignores her because as much as he hates causing her pain, he'd rather she be alive. He tugs again, and again and Caroline falls silent.

She needs to feed. And she'll do it, even if he has to drag her to a human and bite them himself.

At some point she accepts that he's not going to let her rest, get to her feet and leans heavily on the trees. He stays at her side, helps keep her uptight. They make slow progress, and he's waiting for her to falter, panic growing in him.

Luckily for them, unfortunately for Tatia, Elijah hadn't gotten round to sending word that he wouldn't be available to meet that night. They find her in a secluded spot, her hair tousled and dress open scandalously low.

Caroline's unable to resist the blood rushing through the other woman's veins. She brightens, eyes glowing red. Tatia screams, but they're too far out for help. She makes to run, manages a few steps.

Klaus doesn't let her get far.

Caroline picks her way through the woods. She's barefoot, has a picnic basket looped over one arm. A blanket thrown over her shoulder. She'd be whistling because it's a beautiful day but she's trying to listen for Klaus.

Absently, she realizes that it's a pity she hasn't spent much time in the forest on this trip. In her human life, she'd never been happier than the month she'd spent with Klaus under these very trees. It's a bit different from her memories, the trees taller, clearings bigger. She kicks a few beer cans, clucks her tongue in distaste.

Kids these days. No respect for Mother Earth.

She's got her head tipped to the side, ears tuned for Klaus. He'd darted off into the trees once he'd turned. She'd been able to feel his wonder, his joy at discovering his new form, through the thread of their connection.

Those emotions have faded now, leaving only a bone deep contentment that she wants to share with him. She feels a thrumming, a pull, and her body pivots towards the west without Caroline's conscious effort.

Huh. That's new. And handy.

So long as neither of them abuse it.

She finds him not thirty paces away, sprawled in a pile of leaves, dirt streaked and naked but seemingly elated. He pounces when she gets close, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her down to the ground with him. The picnic basket goes flying, the blanket tossed aside. "Hey," Caroline chides, once they've settled. She's half buried underneath him , her head cushioned by his arm, but she can't say she really minds. "I go through the trouble of packing you a delicious breakfast and this is the thanks I get?"

Klaus presses his mouth to hers, the kiss quick but thorough. She makes to follow him when he pulls back, pouts when he dodges. "I feel you now," he says, all in a rush. "It's incredible. You're incredible."

Caroline preens, "Wow. Someone woke up on the right side of the forest today."

He ignores her attempt at levity, his words falling fast and without thought. "It started last night, when the ritual was happening." He grabs her hand, kisses her palm before pressing it to his chest. "You were so worried. Scared. I'm sorry. I don't ever want that for you."

She scrapes her nails over his scalp, a gesture meant to soothe. "It's okay. One more giant vampire death match to go and then I doubt I ever will again."

"Never again," Klaus vows.

He presses his face to her throat, takes a deep breath. She wonders if she smells different to him. She'll have to ask later but, for now, there's something more important to say. "You don't need to apologize, Klaus. I know what I'm getting into. If you even tried to suggest I sit on the sidelines and wait for the menfolk to fight my battles… well, it wouldn't be pretty."

"I suspect I'd be testing out the guest room mattresses all by my lonesome."

"Damn right."

"I'm stronger now."

Caroline had known that. She suspects she might be too. She'd become a vampire because he had. The witches they'd consulted seem to think that her death would cause his and vice versa. It stood to reason that Klaus becoming a hybrid would give her a boost too.

Klaus is still speaking, firm, like he's trying to reassure them both. "With Elijah and Kol and Rebekah, Finn too if we can persuade him, we'll be fine."

"I couldn't sleep last night." Not without him. "I worked on tracking down Sage. That should help."

Klaus' expression turns disapproving, "You should have slept. I could feel your mind working. Not resting."

Caroline laughs; glad she's distracted him from his heavy thoughts. They deserve a day of celebration. "Please tell me I'm not going to have to endure a constant commentary on my mental state."

"You might. For a while. Until I get used to it."

Caroline supposes that's fair. She's had centuries to get used to Klaus' presence hovering.

"Do you hate it?" she asks, a worry she's been trying to tamp down bursting through. "I know I'm not exactly… subtle or retiring. We can track down a witch if you…"

This kiss is rough, a hint of anger to it, meant to shut her up. She's offended for a minute until she opens her eyes, finds Klaus staring down at her incredulously. "Caroline, it's wonderful. Truly. I hadn't thought you and I could get better, be… more. But we can. We will be."

It's the perfect thing to say.

She pulls him down again, kisses him hungrily. She's been doing her best to ignore his nudity but she can't now, her hands clawing to get him closer.

She knows exactly what he means and it's not just because of they're connection. She's spent a thousand years helping Klaus, intent on breaking the binding Esther had forced on him. Not just to make him free, not even because she'd do anything to make him happy.

The more Klaus wants? To have him know her soul as she know his? That's what she's been chasing.

Now, finally, that's what they've won.