There is smoke and ashes in the air, the scent of it burns through the skin and creeps into her bones.

Caroline decides she hates New Orleans after the dust of some dead man's bones is carried up by the wind and settles atop her freshly curled hair. She looks out of place, really, in her bright white sundress and golden locks; her pretty blue eyes holding their vivacious exuberance and that same innocent passion that made Klaus preserve her forever in paintings and poem and paper.

But here, in this great empty graveyard of war's aftermath, Caroline Forbes looks cold and faint. Struggling not to collapse under the weight of what it means to be standing here in the first place.

He promised that his door would always be open and Caroline believed him because fifty four years is a long time to hold a grudge against a man who harmed her none. She's a bit wizened now in the ways of the world and she can understand that not everything is black and white and maybe Elena Gilbert wasn't the holy grail that they had to throw themselves down to protect. She's loyal, yes, but she's not bloody stupid (and she hates him and his British slang even more so after she begins to use it).

Caroline knows that family is everything to some and to those who cherish it, sacrifices will have to be made. After all, Caroline thinks, hadn't they killed two of Klaus's siblings? Killing Finn before Sage, wild, passionate Sage who smiled when she died in the knowledge that she would not have to walk another nine hundred years alone.

They killed Kol; the ever lasting wild card who shaped Las Vegas until it pleased his eye and who lived happily and recklessly. Kol, who consumed life so voraciously that he nearly choked on its lifeblood in order to pay for his brother's imagined sins. Killed by innocent Elena Gilbert who maintains she did it because he was evil.

Caroline had told Elena that they are all evil and that not one of them has a halo untarnished. Caroline remembers her parting words to her dear friend as clear as she does May sunshine.


"Elena," Caroline looked deep into the brunette's brown eyes, pleading with the doppelgänger to see sense before she left. "No one in this world can be innocent for long. No one is incapable of holiness but that doesn't mean that they can't be saved." she holds Elena's hand a little tighter and whispers words about Katherine who bore a child out of wedlock and was forever banished from her family. She who wanted to live more than she wanted to die and dammit - doesn't everybody? Katherine, who ran away from the monster angel Klaus and found nothing left for her in Bulgaria so kept on running for five hundred years.

Caroline is slapped by Elena who runs into Damon's arms and Caroline doesn't slump in defeat. She's done all that she can do for Mystic Falls and her broken dreams.

She's realized she's no longer human and she realizes that this small town life isn't for her. It's a part of her but Caroline Forbes is a multicultural tour de force and she will not be constrained by the simplicity of a single facet.

She will taste the honeyed liquor of life, sipping on its nectar until she can feel the overpowering desire to spill those secret words from her rosebud lips.


If fifty four years is what it takes for Caroline to locate that loophole Klaus left for her more than half a century ago in the Virginian woods, then so be it. Only, Caroline grimaces, she never expected such a battlefield to be her center stage.

Gingerly, she walks across the gray field with its piles of ashes and the memories of vampires, werewolves, witches, and humans that remain scattered by the wind. Trapped in New Orleans like a choked plume of smoke in a light glass; Caroline blinks when the breeze picks up again and blows the remains of someone into her eyes and she feels the tears sting.

No one is a monster but Caroline can see how some people call Klaus evil incarnate. She knows why. She's called him so herself.

But this lost graveyard of souls here - this empty, hilly field of burnt corpses and frozen dreams chills Caroline to the bone more than any babe's lost breath could ever freeze her in.


He killed Marcel with a countenance that was blank and cold. He rips out his protege's heart with a vicious grip that breaks an artery and pulls it out so slowly that the darker skinned vampire chokes, gasping and forcing his exposed heart to pump harder.

When Marcel is dead, Klaus takes the infernal organ and squeezes until there is nothing but blood and bruised life left. He looks into the dead eyes of the man who laughed too easily, who reached for greatness too recklessly, and who believed that a pauper could overpower a king. Klaus wants to tell Marcel one last time that he has no weakness - but he cannot.

He will not speak such falsehood when the truth rages about him.

Klaus has brought Armageddon to New Orleans for the sake of his dead boy.

His son.

Who had golden hair and blue eyes and dimpled cheeks. Who, in the dawn of each new day, would smile so sweetly and with such purity that Klaus could breath life into a fantasy that he dared not speak of out loud.

In such a light, Klaus could see Caroline in his son and he could dream of a simpler time where he would have held the woman he loved in a caress of unspeakable love. Where they could have lived in a field of ripe corn and cerulean skies with the sound of rivers and something akin to a crackling happiness that roared like the fireside hearth.

Klaus mourned and maimed and killed for the loss of that memory and he did it so violently and thoughtlessly that Elijah could not bear to reproach him. Klaus dragged this war on for as long as he could because if he stopped, he would feel the widening black hole in his heart.

The king of New Orleans killed and destroyed in the hopes of rebuilding something more.


From this city of grief and ash, Caroline walked until she was sure her white, white heels were permanently stained and her curls had now become windblown waves. She wanders down cobblestone street after side walked avenue until she comes across a bar that is bustling and roaring with something akin to joy. She doesn't know what will await her but the scent of bourbon and cigars puts a smile on her face and the smell of leather reminds her of memories she's kept close to heart all these years.

Pushing open the wooden door of peeling red and thick dark oak, Caroline wanders inside and a few patrons stop and stare because it's not quite evening and only a select few vampires have daylight rings.

They think she's in Klaus's inner circle but they know she is not. There are only six people in the king's order and only three of them are vampires. There is calm, sophisticated Elijah; there is passionate and beautiful Rebekah; there is loyal and patient Stefan.

They are Klaus's generals and they possesses the gift of daylight rings; no other vampire has such an honor and all the residents of New Orleans knows this.

But they dare not ask who she is because she walks with such grace and confidence and compatibility with this bloodthirsty town that they will force themselves to believe she belongs.

(even if her hair's too bright, her smile too wide, and her skin too soft to have been weathered by war and heartache)

She keeps on walking and the crowd begins to part because they see where she is headed and none dare to stop her.

What's one more life, they suppose, in the grand scheme of things?

Caroline doesn't consider their thoughts as her heartbeat quickens and her pulse begins to race; she feels something stirring in the pit of her stomach and feels a fire burning under her heart when she sees a black leather jacket and perfectly mussed dark blonde curls.

The moment her eyes catch sight of such a scene, he stills. After all these years, he still hasn't forgotten her sunshine lemon scent, mingled in with something soft like powdered sky and brilliant - like pressed lilies.

He turns.

She stills.

She hasn't changed, he thinks in wonderment as he takes her in.

"You have a spot of ash on your cheek, love." he reaches out to brush it away but hesitates (the bar is now silent and all breathing ceases when their king pauses, fingertips close to silk).

Caroline hadn't planned what her reaction would be when she finally, finally saw him again, but it wasn't this.

It wasn't the stupid, ridiculous beaming smile on her countenance that shone brighter than a blazing comet. It was the fact that she didn't expect herself to walk closer to him, look dead into his eye and murmur, "you need to hire an environmental group to clean up around here. It's bad for the lungs to breath in all this secondhand smoke." she says this so matter-of-factly that Klaus's chest tightens with memories and happiness.

He laughs with long forgotten amusement.

Yet he does not touch her.

"What are you doing here, Caroline?" Klaus asks and she hears hope - pleading - and sadness that is so beautiful it makes her heart break.

Gingerly, she places one hand on his cheek and smiles a sweet smile, left cheek still smudged with ash as she tilts her head to the side. "You're a dirty rotten liar and I hate you."

His smile expands and he grips her wrist. "Yes."

"You promised you'd never come back for me and then used all your hybrid hotness to make me forget to promise to never come to you." she pouts. (but her eyes are starlight and her tone is of a sunflower radiating gold during springtime)

Klaus holds his breath when Caroline sighs.

"You're a dolt, and I love you but you can't just stand here and expect me to carry on this whole confession."

And he doesn't. He kisses her right then and there, swooping and lovely and whole because he feels joy and elation and an overflowing sense of triumph.

He's waited for her all these years and now - now he will spend his existence making sure she remains by his side.

He's made a city of ashes for himself but, Klaus decides, she will teach him to build a city of gold - for the both of them.


A/N: Merry Christmas and a Fluffy New Year everyone!