Chapter Text
Caroline is a planner. She thrives on organisation. She luxuriates in perfectly executed outcomes. She heads up multiple committees at college. She has organised more Mystic Falls events than the mayor. Every dance, raffle, auction, and party in high school had been meticulously overseen by her. Her whole life has been a series of carefully scheduled points and desires. People used to call her names – neurotic, control freak, bossy, domineering, dramatic, a dictator – but she has never minded those. They’re nicer than the other names people call her. At least those ones are a result of her hard work and dedication.
Nothing – and she means nothing – in the last 72 hours of her life has been planned.
First, she is in a car accident. Her injuries are bad enough to require surgery and she wakes up to her mom crying at her hospital bedside, but there isn’t a scratch on her. Caroline checks. Surgery would have surely left at least a small mark but there is nothing. No fresh bruises, bumps, cuts, or other.
Then she goes to pee in the middle of the night and falls, hitting her head. When she wakes up, still sprawled in the small space between the shower and the toilet in her hospital bathroom, she is super hungry. She drinks blood. She drinks blood and grows fangs and burns in the sun. What the hell?
Sometime between magically convincing a nurse to lie about her new neck wound and killing a man, the memories start coming back. Caroline remembers screaming loud enough to rattle her brain, but no noise leaving her mouth. Spending months hurling herself at the bars of her mental prison, shouting, shrieking, begging to be released. Doing things she didn’t want. Ruining her relationships. All because Damon Salvatore gave her orders.
It is after she has killed that poor man, and Bonnie stares at her in horror, and Elena has thrown herself in front of her to stop Damon from staking her that Caroline realises everything has changed. She sobs in that tiny toilet and lets Stefan calm her, but she knows this can’t last. Damon has been making his life miserable too and he hasn’t done anything to stop it. How can he possibly help her if he’s not strong enough to go against his brother?
So, Caroline runs. She runs because Damon has told her that her mother hates vampires. She runs because Bonnie looks at her with confused hatred. She runs because she is not safe. She takes her car and drives to Richmond and compels – because that’s what it is, it’s compulsion, Damon had said before – a different one from a used car lot.
Then she drives and drives, across state lines, through towns and cities that she doesn’t really see. For hours, she travels. She switches cars again in Atlanta. The journey changes directions sporadically with her panic until she stops. She is so tired and hungry and stressed, so she parks. It is only when she’s out of the car that she looks up at a street sign and realises she’s in New Orleans.
A city is probably for the best, Caroline reasons. Though she has no intention of staying long, the number of people will provide a decent barrier between her and anyone searching. Sighing, she glances up. The early morning darkness is starting to ebb, so she’ll need to get under cover asap. She’s never been to New Orleans – this is her first time leaving Mystic Falls outside of her yearly trips to see her dad – but she is quick to pick a direction.
The smell of blood hits her like a train.
It’s thick and strong – like, if it was possible, it’d be burning her nostrils. Okay, no. She can’t kill anyone else. She can still feel the cold, metallic fear piercing her chest from the aftermath of killing that man, and she has no desire to experience that again. Tentatively, she steps into the alley and tries not to gag.
“Oh god,” she whispers then blurs several feet in under a second – and that’s new, huh – to kneel next to the body. He’s young, maybe twenty, with light brown skin and dark hair. There’s a pool of sticky, wet blood under his head, and he’s not breathing. What does she do? Does she call 911? Does she try CPR? Can she even do CPR anymore? Oh god, he’s dead, and she can’t help, and the horror envelops her like Death pressing on her soul.
Someone clears their throat.
Startled, Caroline whips to her feet and her gums scream with the force of her new fangs. There’s a young man leaning on a dumpster, cheeky grin in place like he’s amused and not standing in front of a furious vampire and a dead body. His brown hair is tousled in a way she can’t tell if it’s on purpose or an accident. Brown eyes glint mischievously.
“You’re lucky he’s a tourist, darling. Heaven forbid you break the rules around here,” he says casually. He glances at the body then back to her before frowning. When he returns his gaze to the body, it lingers thoughtfully. “You didn’t kill him.”
“What? No! I found him like this!” she yells, affronted. Okay, so yeah, she had killed someone very recently, but this guy doesn’t know that!
“Forgive me for making assumptions, but you are a vampire covered in blood in an alleyway with a dead body.”
She frowns and looks down.
“Oh,” she breathes. Her jacket and top are stained with long dried blood. She can see the ends of her hair are also flecked with it. Quickly, she raises a hand to her face, relieved to find that her skin is clear. Thank god she’d compelled everyone she’d interacted with to forget her.
“Let’s start over, shall we? I’m Kol. What might your name be?”
“Caroline,” she bites out. He nods.
“Do I have to worry about any other dead bodies in the city, Caroline?” he asks. She can’t work out if he’s actually concerned. He seems very nonchalant about the whole thing.
“Not from me.”
“Spectacular. Where are you staying?” She stares at him suspiciously. “Every new vampire in town gets the welcome speech from dear Marcel.”
“I don’t know yet,” she admits. Kol raises an eyebrow. “I just got here, like, ten minutes ago.”
He hums – again, no identifiable tone – and, in a flash, the body is slung over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He looks at her expectantly.
“Might as well get the welcome out of the way. Follow me.”
She thinks she should protest, but it is very obvious she’s at a great disadvantage. The way Kol keeps bringing up the “welcome” and “rules” makes her nervous. What kind of supernatural community has she stumbled into?
“Why the hell should I follow a strange man I just met who isn’t at all bothered by the dead body in an alley?”
He rolls his eyes and steps forward. They’re not very far apart now. When his eyes dilate, she shrieks and slams her hands over her own eyes.
“No! Nope! I’ll come with you, I swear, just no compulsion!”
“Alright, alright, calm down. I won’t compel you.”
Slowly, she lowers her hands and squints at him. He seems genuine enough. Not that that’s necessarily true, but at least he doesn’t immediately go back on his word.
“Lead the way,” she says, gesturing to the mouth of the alley. He grins, cheeky once more, and vanishes. Well. That’s just rude. Caroline can’t even tell which direction he went. There’s just a small rush of wind and she’s alone in the alley. In ten seconds, he’s back, sans body. His expression is hilariously confused.
“Following only works if you follow,” he says. She huffs and crosses her arms.
“How am I meant to follow you when you disappeared into thin freaking air?”
His eyes narrow. She doesn’t feel any sort of fear or trepidation. It seems mostly curious. He holds out a hand and she stares at it quizzically.
“You can run. Not as fast as me, but speed comes with age. You can keep up though.”
She supposes he’s right. She had done it a few minutes ago without meaning to, so now seems like the perfect opportunity to do it on purpose. With a sigh, she grips his wrist – not his hand because that’s too weird and would be a show of trust she doesn’t have. He takes off and, to her mild surprise, so does she. Her legs automatically match the eye-wateringly quick pace. It takes scant seconds to reach a courtyard.
Caroline gapes. The courtyard is in a house. Or maybe it’s a palace of some kind because it looks like it spreads half the block, if not more. She counts four floors before she’s distracted by a woman. She’s beautiful; only around 5’4 with slightly rounded features and deep brown eyes set into olive skin. Her thick, black waves reach her waist and sway as she walks towards them with just about the kindest smile Caroline has ever seen.
“Who is this?” she asks in a honey-smooth voice, tone as kind as her smile.
“Caroline, meet Lissa. Lissa, young Caroline, a recent arrival in the city. Is Bex back yet?”
“Yes. She did not find anyone.”
Kol’s grin is pure delight.
“Excellent. I won.”
He flashes away. Lissa eyes her with gentle curiosity. Caroline is more than a little surprised that she doesn’t ask any probing questions.
“Are you hungry? We have O negative, O positive, and B positive.”
“I – um, sure? I don’t have a preference.”
Lissa nods to their left and Caroline dutifully follows the silent direction. They end up in a large, bright kitchen. Lissa pours a blood bag into a large mug, and it takes everything in Caroline to stay put. When the mug is safely behind the glass door of the microwave, silence falls. It’s awkward.
“Each hotel has channels to obtain blood bags should you require them. All staff are on vervain, so please don’t feed on them,” Lissa says after a moment. “I’ll give you a list.”
She’s not asking where Caroline is staying. It kind of makes her want to ‘fess up – which is genius, really – but she nods instead.
“Thanks,” she says quietly. Lissa’s kind smile returns.
“If you prefer feeding straight from the vein, please only feed on tourists. Locals are off limits. We also prefer no deaths, though accidents do happen.”
Very, very briefly, her eyes flicker to Caroline’s bloody clothes before she removes the mug from the microwave and presents it to her. Caroline feels her monster surge to the surface at the first drop of blood on her tongue, and the mug is drained in the blink of an eye. Lissa does not look surprised. Caroline is just trying to push the redness from her eyes and pretend she’s normal. She glances out the kitchen window and gasps.
The sun has started to rise.
Shit, shit, shit, shit. What is she going to do? She’ll burst into flames if she goes outside now, but she can’t very well stay in a stranger’s house/palace/estate.
“Caroline,” Lissa says. Caroline stares at her, trying to appear calm whilst her insides panic. “How long have you been a vampire?”
She should have really seen that coming.
“Two days,” she confesses, quiet enough that she’s not sure she’s spoken for a second. Lissa’s eyes widen.
“Two days?” She sounds flabbergasted. “Was it here in the city?”
“No. It was . . . back home.” Caroline doesn’t want to reveal too much about herself. “Not even in this state. I turned and things got bad, so I – I left.”
Lissa, thankfully, doesn’t call her on the obvious lie.
“Do you have somewhere to go?”
Caroline shakes her head. Without warning – or permission – the reality of her situation hits her like a tsunami. Pure, unadulterated misery nearly drives her to her knees. She bursts into tears. Lissa embraces her easily and they sink to the floor together, Caroline sobbing so hard that she’s borderline screaming. She has lost everything. Her mom. Her best friends. Her home. She can’t go home.
Something wails like an injured animal. It’s her. She hadn’t been aware she could make that noise.
It’s later – how much later, Caroline has no idea – when she regains herself that she finds she’s been moved to a living room. Lissa is still holding her, but they’re no longer on the cold stone floor. Caroline sniffs and wipes her sodden face. She is handed a box of tissues without a word.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” she stammers then blows her nose. The noise is absolutely disgusting.
“You don’t have to apologise, Caroline. Even without the intensely heightened emotions of a vampire, you have been through something traumatic,” Lissa says warmly. She doesn’t even know the half of it. “You can stay here in the compound. We have plenty of room. We have witches who can cloak you, regular blood deliveries, many old and experienced vampires who will happily help you adjust, and connections all over the world if you would rather go elsewhere.”
“You don’t k-know me.”
“That is more of a problem for you than us. The oldest vampires in the world – the Originals – live in or frequent this house. They can be a lot to handle-.”
“Rude!” Kol calls from somewhere. Caroline jumps, not expecting to hear him. Lissa ignores the shout.
“And they run this city. If you were to stay here, you would be exposed to those politics, along with the dysfunctional family dynamics of siblings who have known each other for over one thousand years.”
Caroline isn’t sure if Lissa is trying to sound stern, but it’s not working. At worst, it’s fond exasperation.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
Lissa smiles understandingly.
“You don’t have to decide right now. You can spend the day here, meet some other people, and see how you feel later.” She glances at her clothes again. “Perhaps a shower and a change of clothing?”
Caroline flushes.
XXX
When Caroline had seen Gucci branding on the pair of socks Lissa had given her, she had forced herself not to look at the labels on the rest of the borrowed clothes. That repressed curiosity had built and built through the 45 minutes it had taken her to feel remotely clean again. It had to go somewhere. When she’d seen a flyer for a party at The Abattoir, she’d asked Kol.
She sort of wishes she hadn’t.
“You have an all-you-can-eat buffet?” she says. She can feel that her face is twisted into a grimace. Kol doesn’t seem bothered.
“Weeeelllllllll,” he says annoying. He even pitches his voice higher. “Not really. No draining allowed. The feeding is left to the end, so all we need to do is heal them up, compel them to forget the bite – but not the rest of the evening, because why erase fun? – and they’re good to go.”
Caroline snorts. That’s more than Damon ever did for her.
“How do you heal them? Is it a witch?”
“A couple of drops of vampire blood and they’re good as new.”
“Wait, seriously? Vampire blood heals humans?”
“To an extent. Injuries, yes. Certain illnesses, yes. Cancer and the like? It actually makes those worse.”
She blanches and decides not to ask how they’d worked that out.
“Does the blood sober them up?” she asks curiously. Kol grins.
“Nope. It’s a bit inconvenient, honestly. Drunken folk wandering around with vampire blood in their systems isn’t without risk. Accidents happen, like the lad in the alley.”
“What? He’s going to be a vampire?”
“If he decides to, yep. He has to drink human blood if he does choose to. If not, he dies.”
Caroline gets stuck on that for a few minutes. She could have died? Again? If she hadn’t cracked and drank from the blood bag meant to be her transfusion . . . god.
“Does it have to be human?”
Kol hums and nods, takes a sip out of his flowery China teacup.
“Yes.” He looks at her sceptically. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to try and live on animal blood.”
“I want to be ethical!”
“Ethics mean nothing to vampires. Besides, we have a blood network that is yours to access if you want.”
She decides to change the subject because she has way too many other questions.
“Why did I remember being compelled when I woke up?”
“The moment you awake in transition, you’re not completely human. You’re close enough to being a vampire that the compulsion starts wearing off, though it won’t completely fade until you complete the transition.”
“Why does being a vampire change anything?”
“Vampires can’t compel other vampires. Or witches, whilst we’re on the subject.”
She narrows her eyes so much that they’re nearly closed.
“You were going to compel me in the alley.”
His smirk is genuinely delighted.
“Clever girl. Yes, Originals can compel other vampires, and hybrids, but not each other.”
The carefully composited list of questions is blow to smithereens.
“Hybrids?”
“Half vampire, half werewolf,” Kol says, waving dismissively like that’s not a huge bombshell.
“Werewolves are real? And hybrids are a thing?”
“Yes and yes. My obnoxious brother – not the most obnoxious, to his credit – is the Original Hybrid.”
She needs a notebook and a pen. Now.
“Good afternoon, Kol,” someone says as they enter the living room. Caroline doesn’t get the chance to turn as they walk into her line of sight. He looks like an older Kol, though more serious, and in a pristine, tailored suit. He even has a pocket square.
“Elijah, this is Caroline. Caroline, my most obnoxious brother, Elijah,” Kol says, sounding and looking utterly bored. She giggles a little and shakes Elijah’s offered hand.
“Hi,” she greets.
“A pleasure to meet you, Caroline. Elisaveta mentioned you were contemplating staying here,” he says. His voice is rich and measured, lilted with an amalgamation of several different accents. Caroline frowns.
“Lissa,” Kol answers her unspoken question.
“Ah. Yeah, but I’m nowhere near a decision yet.”
“I was just filling her in on some basics. I’m tagging you in, though, ‘cause I can sense her getting ready to deep dive,” Kol says teasingly. He goes so far as winking. She rolls her eyes. “And you love a good history lecture, ‘Lijah. Have fun!”
As seems to be typical for Kol, he flits from the room in a blur. Elijah’s sigh is very put-upon (and, if she’s correct, fond). Kol reappears briefly, deposits a legal pad and four pens in her lap, then vanishes again.
“One minute,” she says then rushes to scribble down everything Kol told her. True to her word, she only takes a minute before looking up at Elijah eagerly. His expression is unreadable. “Lissa said you were the oldest vampires in the world. Did you just, like, appear one day?”
“We were born human,” he says in his smooth voice. “We became vampires through magic.”
“So, witches have been around longer than you?”
“As far as we can determine, witches and werewolves have been around as long as humans.”
“Witches aren’t human?”
“They are mortal, and their blood is human, but they are a supernatural species, which means they are technically not human.”
Caroline’s hand flies over the yellow page. The pen is great. No smudging, no inconsistencies with ink output. 10/10 pen.
“If you can compel other vampires, is there other stuff Originals can do that regular vampires can’t?”
She’s not completely sure, but she thinks she sees his mouth twitch into an almost-maybe-almost smile.
“We cannot die.” Oh wow. “As the oldest of the species, we are faster and stronger than any who followed.”
He adjusts his cufflinks, and the glint of a ring throws her back to a conversation about a stupid blue dress and sparkling vampires.
“You still have a daylight ring. Why?” she asks.
“The sun may not kill us, but we are still vulnerable to it. We burn just like all other vampires if we do not wear the rings – or whichever jewellery takes our fancy.”
Caroline tilts her head, fully aware she looks like an intrigued puppy.
“It doesn’t have to be a ring?”
Damon had been so firm about it, but she’s beginning to realise that he is far from the be-all-and-end-all of vampire knowledge. More than beginning. She is completely positive that she should question everything he’s ever said to her.
“As long as there is lapis lazuli within it, it can be any piece of jewellery.”
“Lapis lazuli?”
Elijah shows her a small, blue stone in his ring. It’s a far cry from the gaudy rock Damon has.
“Magic is more Kol’s forte than mine,” he says easily. She half-smiles.
“How old are you guys?”
“We have been vampires for just over one thousand years.”
Caroline’s eyes widen. She can’t even imagine living to one hundred let alone ten times that. Slowly, she analyses his features. He looks no older than 25.
“Hold on a hot freaking second. Does that mean you’ve lived in three different millennia!?”
He nods sagely. She can’t quite close her mouth, which feels somehow worse in front of Elijah. He’s so refined and she’s gaping like a dying fish.
“Are you quite well?” he asks. There is a hint of genuine concern in his tone – she thinks – but she can’t help but feel like he’s enjoying her shock. She supposes, at over a thousand years old, he’s got to get his kicks somehow.
“Remind me to hit you up for sources when finals come around.”
She refuses to think about how she may not return to college or take finals. Whitmore is way too close to Mystic Falls anyway.
XXX
“What do you mean I’m dead!?”
The man from the alley is awake, and his alarm is understandable. Caroline lurks in the doorway of the spare bedroom – she hadn’t been able to tell if Kol was serious when he called it the “transition room” – whilst Kol lounges casually by the bed.
“Blunt force trauma,” he says breezily. “It could have been the edge of some stairs or a dumpster, or someone could have whacked you with a bat. Our resident doctor is out, so we’re counting on you to remember what happened.”
The man pales several shades until he’s nearly stark white. Given his already substantial blood loss and all, Caroline is sure that’s not healthy.
“Hey,” she greets as gently as possible. He still jumps, dark eyes darting to her. He doesn’t relax. “I’m Caroline. What’s your name?”
“Josh,” he breathes. His swallow is loud enough that a human could hear it.
“Hi Josh. This sucks, right? It’s super scary and you don’t know what’s happening, so you can absolutely freak out. Kol here can explain everything when you’re done.”
Kol, thankfully, doesn’t argue. He has gone weirdly silent, though, so she’s not sure that’s a good thing.
“What’s happening?” Josh asks fretfully. Maybe he’ll spiral properly later.
“You’re in transition, mate,” Kol answers. “From human to vampire. Long story short: you died with vampire blood in your system and now you have to choose whether to drink human blood to complete the transition or stay as you are and die for good.”
“What?” Josh squeaks. Caroline tries to smile reassuringly when he looks at her. She doesn’t need to see her reflection to know she fails dismally.
“You’ve got time.” Kol doesn’t correct her. Again, unclear if that’s a good thing. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I was . . . I was walking with my friend Tina. We couldn’t find our hotel. Then I fell. Next thing you know, I’m waking up here and I’m dead.”
Kol whistles lowly. Josh stares, unblinking and clearly terrified.
“You need better friends.”
Caroline winces in sync with Josh.
“Do you need a minute?” she asks. He opens his mouth but fails to speak. Kol takes it upon himself to answer.
“I’ll get you some blood, mate, just in case.”
She wonders vaguely if Kol ever leaves rooms at a human pace, then decides that’s a stupid question. The silence falls quickly and awkwardly. She gets the intense urge to pick at her nails like she hasn’t since she was thirteen.
“How long?”
She’s a bit embarrassed to admit she jumps. Josh is staring at her, brow wrinkled.
“Huh?”
“You said I had time. How long?”
“Oh. I don’t actually know, sorry. I think a few hours? I think it depends how long you were out too, but I’m not sure. I can’t believe I didn’t ask, really. Elijah will know, or Lissa, or Kol-.”
Caroline stops talking abruptly. Josh hasn’t done or said anything, but she feels suddenly mortified for rambling. She smiles sheepishly.
“How long have you been a vampire?”
She wonders if people will still ask her that when she’s got a few decades under her belt.
“Alright, lad, drink up,” Kol calls, sweeping in with a glass full of blood. Caroline twitches at the smell.
Nope. Not yours. You’ve had enough.
“I didn’t say I was turning!” Josh protests. Kol rolls his eyes.
“We’ll let you think,” Caroline says quickly. Kol smirks.
“We’ll be in earshot. Yell when you make up your mind.”
Caroline leans on the balcony rail outside, looking down into the courtyard. There are no remnants of last night’s party. Their clean-up crew must be impressive.
Kol groans quietly, and she doesn’t get the chance to ask before they’re interrupted.
“Well, has he changed?”
She turns and does her level best not to gape. If she had seen this woman as a teenager, her fragile self-esteem would have been blown to irreparable smithereens. Her golden-blonde hair is loosely curled to her chest, her eyes are a stunning shade of blue, and she walks in heels like they’re part of her feet.
“Not yet,” Kol mutters. The woman’s eyebrow arches.
“It doesn’t count unless he turns.”
“I know, Bex.”
“What doesn’t count?” Caroline asks. This earns her a not-quite-welcoming smile.
“You must be Caroline. I’m Rebekah Mikaelson. Pleasure, I’m sure.”
“Must I be?”
“Unless there’s someone else wandering around in my clothes, then yes.”
Caroline looks down, then at Rebekah, and realises Lissa’s much shorter than her. No way would her jeans fit.
“Oh. Thank you.”
She’s not sure if her genuine gratitude comes across until Rebekah smirks. It’s warmer than the smile.
“Our body-count bet is only valid if the person completes the transition,” she answers. Caroline frowns. Hard.
“You can’t force him into changing! He still has a choice!”
Rebekah rolls her eyes.
“Obviously. Coercion is for enemies, not newbie vampires. And the bet is void if we make up their minds for them.”
Well . . . that was something.
“Can you leave us alone now?” Kol groans. Rebekah scoffs.
“You’ve had your turn. Caroline and I have some bonding to do.”
“She’s not a toy!” Lissa calls from somewhere. Caroline gestures – possibly in the wrong direction – in agreement. Rebekah purses her lips, and it looks like slightly mocking pity.
“Oh, you need all the help you can get. Lissa’s in the garden,” she says, mildly condescending as she points behind her. Okay, rude. “Come with me. We can work on your hearing first.”
“Bekah!”
“Fine!” Rebekah yells back. “Caroline, would you like to come with me?”
Is that an actual choice she has? It’s not totally clear.
“Are you actually asking?” she asks cautiously.
“Yes, and I won’t do it twice.”
Right. Of course.
“I need to clear my head a bit.” She glances around. “Do you guys have a library or something?”
“Several,” Kol answers. He tilts his head contemplatively. “Ava’s might be the best bet.”
Caroline thinks that something has gotten lost in translation because she has no interest in meeting anyone else for the moment.
“Or maybe someone who isn’t using theirs and probably won’t for a while?” she suggests hopefully. He gazes at her with a slight frown, like she’s confused him.
“Ava’s asleep,” Rebekah says blandly. Caroline can work with that.
“Okay, cool.” She pauses awkwardly and neither sibling moves. “Where is Ava’s library?”
XXX
As it turns out, Kol is right. Caroline isn’t sure she meant to ask for a library when she’s shown into Ava’s, and she’s weirdly relieved that it’s the most non-library library she’s seen. The room is only slightly bigger than her bedroom in Mystic Falls. The two walls without doors have floor to ceiling bookshelves, stuffed to the brim with multi-coloured spines on one side and hundreds of vinyl records on the other. There’s a bright green beanbag chair in one corner, a purple blow-up armchair in another, and a rug in the centre covered in large cushions and pillows, most of which are faux fur or shag. The French doors opposite the entrance are uncovered by Kol.
“Tempered glass. UV rays can’t penetrate,” he says when she hides in the hall.
Whatever it is, it’s perfect.
Caroline is left alone for the first time in hours. She edges her way towards the records. They’re arranged precisely, she can tell, but it takes a minute to work out how. It’s an A-Z system, but colour-coded within the letters rather than outright alphabetical. Whites are on the left and blacks on the right, the rest of the spectrum in the middle. There must be over a thousand.
The books are different. They’re arranged by genre then alphabetically within the genre. The meticulous system somehow creates a rainbow. There are no blacks or whites. She wonders if this Ava person can ever buy another book without throwing off the effect. Amused, intrigued, and a bit overwhelmed, Caroline chooses a dark purple book. It’s historical, something about the Ottoman Empire, and she figures it’ll help distract her because she knows nothing about it.
Hours pass. Caroline becomes quite invested in empires and dynasties. The Ming Dynasty, Mongol Empire, Akkadian Empire, Roman Empire, Shang Dynasty, British Empire – she reads bits about them all. Based on the dates, the Originals wouldn’t have experienced all of them. But the fact that they experienced some is mind blowing. She was in the presence of literal historical figures, living relics.
“Please let me be there when you call them that to their faces.”
She jumps. When she turns towards the voice, she finds Kol and a young woman – early to mid-twenties, based on her appearance, which obviously isn’t helpful. Her pumpkin-coloured curls are messy, and her pale skin is almost completely covered in scars. There are long stretches and small dots and tiny half-moon dents, like she’s been clawed with fingernails.
“I have,” she says, and Caroline is a little scared. It’s the second thought that the woman has commented on and she’s nearly positive she hasn’t spoken out loud. “You didn’t.”
She’s definitely smirking. She glances at Kol, and Caroline looks between them, suddenly feeling like a teenager again, and Bonnie and Elena are sharing inside jokes and private conversations whilst she’s on the outside. The extra. The spare. The unwanted.
“Lighten up, Blondie.”
Caroline goes rigid. She can feel every bone in her hand creak where she grips a book, every vertebrae in her spine scream as she freezes.
“Don’t call me that,” she whispers. The smirk falls. Kol swoops in immediately.
“Right, introductions. Ava, meet Caroline. Caroline, this is Ava.”
“S’up,” Ava says, smirking again.
“What the hell?” is all Caroline can muster. Ava’s smirk widens.
“In a nutshell: my batshit crazy ex-coven cursed me to be haunted by the voices of any dead, undead, and previously dead supernaturals. I decided to embrace it, so now I eavesdrop on vampires’ – and Nik’s – thoughts.”
“Like my entire family, she has a startling lack of boundaries,” Kol remarks casually. Yeah, Caroline is beginning to see that. Ava snorts.
“We just got a delivery, and Lissa says you should eat but she’s too fucking polite to tell you what to do. I don’t want you chowing down on me, though, so shift it.”
“I-.”
“It’s better for younger vampires to feed regularly,” Kol points out. She lets him have that, and trudges from the room after them both. Halfway down the hall, Ava jerks. Kol reaches out but doesn’t touch until she hisses and nods. He pulls her close for only a few seconds then she twists away and smacks her head.
“You won,” she says lowly. Kol’s answering grin is blinding. He looks at her until she nods again. This time, he kisses her forehead.
“Bex!” he calls out gleefully, then vanishes in a blur. Caroline is left awkwardly with Ava hoping she’ll be shown where the kitchen is. Ava rolls her eyes.
“You’re not good at asking for help, are you?” she drawls. Caroline isn’t sure whether that requires an answer but hastily provides one to prevent Ava commenting on her thoughts.
“People would say I’m too good at it. I’m “demanding”, apparently.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
She stops walking for a second. Huh.
“When they say it, yeah.”
“Your self-esteem is in the bin. You should consider therapy.”
“Ava,” Lissa sighs. She is waiting at the kitchen island with three glasses and two mugs. Elijah is behind her and nods a greeting to Caroline.
“Lissy,” Ava mocks. She hops onto the island and takes a mug that smells like raspberry and peach. Another man walks in from the direction of the garden – Caroline thinks, anyway – shoving his phone into his pocket. He has adorable blonde curls and beautiful blue eyes, and she thought she was off blue eyes for the time being, but these are just different enough, and they’re stunningly blue. His cheekbones and jaw could cut diamonds. He swipes a glass and downs the blood in one.
“It went well, then?” Elijah asks calmly. The man glares at him.
“It went fine, thank you. Marcellus is just finishing them off.”
Murder? Dinner? Both? Neither? Caroline doesn’t ask. Ava wiggles her eyebrows at her. Definitely not asking.
“Delightful,” Elijah says. “Niklaus, this is Caroline. Caroline, this is another of my siblings, Niklaus. He rules this city.”
“Co-rules,” Lissa puts in. Niklaus rolls his eyes.
“Will you stop that?”
She smiles wanly.
“No.”
“Please, call me Klaus,” he says when Lissa continues being adamant. Caroline startles when she realises that he’s talking to her.
“Hi.”
“She’s moving in!” Kol calls from somewhere, and must he keep doing that?
“No, I’m not,” she says quickly. Klaus raises an eyebrow between her and the direction Kol’s voice had come from.
“She’s just in denial!”
“I’m not,” she insists, staring at Klaus.
“Caroline will be making up her own mind whether she wishes to stay or not,” Lissa says, almost resignedly. Caroline suspects that’s the effect of living with the Originals.
“You’re not wrong,” Ava says.
“Welcome, Caroline,” Klaus says and ooft, the way his accent curls around her name. His accent is different to Elijah’s, which is different to Kol’s, which is different to Rebekah’s. Klaus and Rebekah are the closest matching, and she wonders if that means anything. Ava goes to speak.
“I don’t need an answer to every errant thought.”
“Buzzkill.”
“How many more of you are there?” Caroline asks, a bit weakly, if she’s being honest with herself.
“Two more Mikaelson siblings, two partners, one Petrova sibling, and Marcel, the Mikaelson child,” Ava answers. Two more siblings? God, Caroline’s overwhelmed enough as it is.
“Finn and Sage don’t live in this country,” Klaus says in a bitter voice. Lissa flinches in what looks like sympathy.
“Freya and Keelin are on vacation,” she adds. “Katerina could appear at any time, but she prefers Asia and Europe.”
“Okay. Cool. Wow, there are a lot of you,” Caroline remarks like an idiot.
“Tell me about it,” Klaus mutters. Lissa slides the other mug over to Caroline, who stares down at the dark red depths, pained. It smells delicious and she wants to bathe in the scent, but she also can’t make a mess, and there are so many people there to watch her, judge her.
“Fucking hell,” Ava says quietly. She hops down, takes her mug, and stares at Elijah and Klaus. “Move it or lose it, fellas, there’s another new vamp upstairs that needs rescuing from Kol.”
Klaus groans.
“Don’t tell me Kol won again.”
XXX
“Hello, Caroline.”
Caroline thinks she’s in some kind of study. A vampire – Thierry, he’d said his name was – had directed her here when she asked after Lissa. It’s bigger than Ava’s library and decorated in warm browns and oranges. Lissa is behind a huge desk, closing a leather-bound journal.
“What would you do if I said I didn’t want to stay here?” Caroline asks bluntly. Lissa doesn’t even blink.
“I would ask if there is anything we can do to help you on your journey forward.”
“Even though you’ve shown me nothing but kindness, and you’ve all taken time out of your days to answer my questions and make sure I’m fed and keep me calm? Even though it would have been such a waste of time to do those things if I don’t stay?”
“Why would they be a waste?”
“Because,” Caroline stresses, “You don’t get anything out of it! You’ve given me so much and I’d just be spitting in the face of that hospitality by leaving.”
“Is that so?”
How she is so infuriatingly calm is beyond Caroline’s comprehension.
“Yes!”
Lissa walks around the desk and leans on the front. Her expression is so compassionate that Caroline wants to cry.
“Caroline, I am over 500 years old. Taking a few hours out of an immortal life to help you adjust to yours is far from an inconvenience. Furthermore, we offered our help. We know what it is to be terrified of what is happening to you, to be clueless in a new world, and some of us understand all too well how it feels to be alone in that turmoil. Whether you stay or go, whether you accept our help in the future or not, you have nothing to fear from us. Your choices are your own.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Caroline’s chest shudders. She smiles wetly.
“I want to stay.”