Hello everyone! This is a new idea that kinda came to me out of nowhere about my OTP Klaroline. I do want to stress that despite the undertone of onesided Klamille (gross), this is absolutely a Klaroline fic. This is my second fic, and it's my first that's not a oneshot, so please be kind-it is well intentioned I swear. 3 Anywho-the rating is currently T, though the intention is to perhaps bump it up to M further down the line, we'll see what happens ;3

Summary: AU Originals/VD crossover. A twist on the canonical Originals storyline. Klaus is the King of New Orleans with his brother Elijah standing by his side. His mother and father are back from the grave, determined to make his life miserable. That with the separation from his daughter Hope, what more could go wrong? Perhaps the discovery of a dark secret he's had hidden away will push this hybrid over the edge... or will it be his salvation? Klaroline, Haylijah, and a few other minor pairings.

She felt a smile stretch across her face before her eyes even opened, just thinking about last night. All she wanted to do was cuddle up to the man that had somehow found a home beneath the surface of her skin over the past year. The man she swore she'd never fall for, and yet here she was, the morning after a wonderful night of passion.

Her arm stretched out, instinctively looking for the comforting warmth that his body subtly radiated, only to be met with cool sheets. Her eyes immediately snapped open and searched all around, but Klaus was no where to be found. She tried to ignore the stab of pain in her heart at finding him gone, but she wouldn't let anything bring her down. Perhaps he'd just wandered off for a snack... though she hoped not.

"Klaus?" she called out his name, knowing that if he was anywhere around, his supernatural hearing should be able to pick up her voice.

When no answer came she rolled herself out of the bed, slowly dressing and taking in her appearance in the mirror in the corner. No matter how much she tried to fix her hair, she couldn't get rid of the bed-sex head until it had a thorough wash and like an hour of brushing.

"Klaus?" she called his name again as she began wandering down the halls of the Mikaelson mansion, surprised that absolutely no one was around. Not even one of the many manipulated foot soldiers in their service.

She found herself walking to the room he was most likely to be in. The grand war room, he always called it, though to normal people it was a study at best. The door was ajar, inviting her in, so at first she thought he might actually be there. However, she soon found that the room was entirely empty save for the portraits and statues, and stacks of papers everywhere.

About to turn away to continue her search, she noticed an easel with fresh paints opened all around in the corner of the room. Telling herself to resist the urge to peek at the inner thoughts of the tortured hybrid artist, she found herself unable to turn away and walked over to the painting.

It was obvious it wasn't finished, as there was still an exceptional amount of blank space. However, in the center was a woman, so beautiful that even she couldn't deny that the blonde in the painting was exuding sheer radiance. Her hair was gold like the sun and it seemed like every array of emotion from happiness to grief was shown in her eyes, like a tortured light. She was painted with so much detail, and so much emotion, even she found herself feeling a sense of adoration, much like she imagined the artist felt when he painted it.

It was then that she shook herself out of her fixation and remembered that it was Klaus that had painted this beautiful woman. Jealousy began to rise as she couldn't help but wonder who she was, and why Klaus painted her with such emotion. Especially after the night they had shared together just last night. By the smell of the paints, and the sheen apparent across the surface, it was just hours old. After being with her, he'd come down to his study to paint another woman. I sure know how to pick 'em, she thought as tears began pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"Hey Camille, have you seen Klaus?" Hayley's voice startled her that she nearly jumped a foot in the air like she'd been caught doing something wrong.

She took a few seconds to compose herself as she drug her gaze off the painting and up to the brooding werewolf-hybrid, she corrected herself. "I was actually just looking for him myself. Did you need something?" She smiled, pulling up the facade she'd steeled for herself over the years.

Hayley took a few steps into the room, obviously curious at what Camille was so enraptured over. "I'm just a bit concerned that Elijah still hasn't come home. I was wondering if maybe Klaus had seen him. Perhaps you have?" There was a hint of hope in her voice that Camille could easily pick up. It was obvious that the hybrid had a tough as nails exterior, but on the inside, she was truly cared for those close to her.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen him in weeks," she said as Hayley rounded the easel and looked upon the painting. "Do you know who she is?" she couldn't help but ask.

Awestruck much like she'd been, Hayley took a few moments before shaking her head. "Not really. I just know that she's a forbidden subject in this house. Not explicitly per say, but highly recommended for those that enjoy their hearts still in their chests."

She felt her jaw tick at the thought. Instinct told her to run and not look back, forget all about Klaus and the mystery woman. He was the dangerous bad boy that was singing the siren song luring her to her doom. It wasn't too late to turn back. But even that did stop her from continuing. "She must be important." She couldn't keep the jealous tone out of her voice.

Hayley looked over and gave her a knowing smile. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. He'll sometimes paint her and get in distant moods every once in a blue moon, and then all traces will disappear and he'll be back to his normal asshole self. I'd give this painting here til the end of the day before it ends up in the fireplace."

The thought wasn't as comforting as she was sure Hayley had intended it to be. All of her years of experience in psychology told her that it was a giant red flag. Suppression to that level meant that he was holding onto this woman like a poison on the inside, holding onto an obviously dark past that pained him so much that he would get rid of all traces of her memory.

She tried not to dwell on it. She looked down at her watch. She had a meeting with her adviser in two hours and she didn't want to be late. Of course she couldn't just walk out and leave like nothing had happened though. She took one quick snapshot of the painting, for some reason needing to know the truth behind the mystery woman. She wouldn't be Camille if she could let things go.

I hope you enjoyed the first glimpse at this fic. I know it's not much for now, but please review! I would truly appreciate any feedback. :)