Chapter Text
Caroline doesn’t watch for ships on the horizon like the others, regardless of how much she wants to. Every time she catches what might be a white cloud of sail in the corner of her eye, Caroline digs her nails into the rock until it splinters beneath her grip, sending chips skimming across the waves and keeps her eyes firmly fixed on the waves. Dips her long golden tail into the water and focuses on the breathing exercises she’s developed to ignore the itch, the balm the water provides on her fins.
There’s a stir in the water that causes Caroline’s brow to furrow but before she can open her eyes, a torrent of water slaps her in the face. Caroline scowls and pushes her sodden curls out of her face, glaring down at her assailant.
“Katherine”
The other girl beams up at her wickedly, crossed arms resting on Caroline’s golden lap, those come hither eyes that have taken so many men to the bottom of the ocean gleaming as her bronze tail wiggles about. “Come on Caroline, come play with us”
Caroline sighs, looking past her friend to the rest of their sisters, whooping and laughing a few yards away. The way they only do after a kill. She wonders how many sailors won’t be going home tonight. Hot meal laid out on the table that they’ll never get to taste.
“How can I play if I don’t know the rules?”
Katherine tsks disapproving. “No rules Caroline, don’t you remember? No rules” she speaks in such a honeyed affectionate tone, a bird free of any ensnarement. Relish made flesh.
Caroline slides effortlessly off her rock next to Katherine, who quirks her dark head and takes Caroline’s hands in hers.
“You want to go to the shore again, don’t you?” Kat scoffs, though she doesn’t let go of Caroline. Of all their sisters throughout time, the bond they share is peculiar for its strength. Katherine does not judge Caroline’s mermaidesque sensibilities. Caroline says nothing of the elaborate games Katherine concocts when she plays with her food. Caroline flicks her hair out of her eyes, moving to pull Katherine with her. Normally, the company of her own kind is enough but the crackle of the approaching storm in the air has set her skin on fire so she can’t settle.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing” Kat shrugs this time, the essence of nonchalance. She’s hundreds of years old, not a lot bothers her anymore. That she’ll let on anyway.
Caroline bites her lip so hard she tastes blood, but the rich taste only makes it worse. She can feel the itch spreading across her skin, her fangs slicing through her gums to reveal themselves. Seeing her friend in distress, practically vibrating with the effort not to seek out a ship, Katherine entwines her fingers with Caroline’s.
“Come on”
The port is quiet when they reach it, the morning rush long since cleared. There’s only a gaggle of children, playing some sort of game of tag; rushing to the water and diving away before it can touch bare little toes. One of the older ones, a slender boy with a mop of blond hair is doing the best, waiting until the last possible second before darting away. Beyond the harbour wall, a gathering of their mermaid cousins are engaged in their own slightly riskier game; trying to flip the highest without being seen by the humans on the shore. Even if they are only children, still graced by magic, it’s better not to risk it. Not that mermaids, blessed in death as they were in life, need to worry about such things Caroline thinks bitterly. They were saved by the sea. Caroline was cursed by it.
Elena’s doing the best; her rich teal tail arcing gracefully in a glittering spray as she performs a double back flip. Bonnie’s mid-clap when Katherine releases Caroline to streak past and whoosh beyond Elena’s reach, spiralling so high that her tail fins slap the top of the grey stone wall. It’s a very Katherinian move. Unbeatable.
And sure enough, when Caroline catches up Elena is scolding her ancestor about cheating and the human world. She’s got a point but then again anything a siren does is cheating to a mermaid. Sirens are stronger, faster. It’s their voices that the humans can’t resist, pulling mortal ships through the sea storms that give birth to them. Even, though Caroline’s not that shallow (anymore), sirens are more beautiful with gleaming eyes and tangling manes of hair.
Better, as Katherine likes to say. And Caroline can’t deny the warmth that blooms in her chest at the way Enzo’s strong face lights up when he sees her and swims eagerly over to embrace her.
But that might just be because Enzo’s normally the one who helps calm her bloodlust, bring Caroline back to the surface when the monster in her skin takes control.
Enzo loves her, Caroline herself. Her best friend.
Her anchor.
Except from the way Enzo’s clinging to her arms, you’d think Caroline was the true anchor now and it’s only when Bonnie, whose several lengths from where she was before shouts that they’d better get going.
A storm.
Although Caroline’s fingers tighten around Enzo’s biceps, keeping him safe with her, more able for her stronger tail, her eyes search the waters to find Kat’s.
A storm.
The one thing a siren cannot resist, the one thing all sirens unite in, is a storm. The thunderous crack of lightening ripping the sky apart, waves headbutting each other; to be fully immersed in the chaos that gave birth to them, responding to their each and every whim; a symphony of pure unadulterated power.
Caroline’s thrill is mirrored in her sister’s face and Katherine glides across the waves towards her, arms outstretched.
“Care!” Enzo’s shout shocks her as he reaches up to cup her face, calling her back to the surface in the way only he seems to be able to do. “We have to go, now!”
He’s right of course; she and Kat need to get the merfolk to safety before they convene with their sisters to celebrate and the children – the children!
Caroline spins bodily in the water, ripping herself away from Enzo’s arms to face the bay, scanning the shore desperately for the scattering of humans. Damn her tangles of hair, drying in rats tails for being so long out of the water, she’s cannot see.
There!
There, the little ones’ game has changed dramatically, the children are up their waists in the ocean now though their starting to wade as quickly as their little limbs can carry them back towards the safety of dry land. Caroline ignores the tugging easily – Elena’s got an amazing sense of self-preservation when she wants to, wanting to make sure that the young ones get back to shore before taking off.
There’s another shout, one that booms off the harbour wall. Turning back towards the town, Caroline sees to her relief that an adult has found the children; a tall man, blond too, maybe even the brave little boy’s father.
The Viking gathers the children to him, reaching out his arms to swing two little girls, certainly his daughters into his arms, the relief on his face obvious even from this distance.
“IF YOU WOULD CHALLENGE THOR HIMSELF, THEN LET THOR JUDGE YOU BOY!”
With that, the Viking turns on his heel, arms full of children and Caroline feels her jaw drop open in shock. He’s walking away…he’s leaving the little boy in the water!
For the first time in this life, Caroline feels cold.
And for the first time, Caroline interferes. Before she can even think, Caroline plunges face first towards the boy. Diving into the pitch darkness of the depths she cuts through the churning water like a knife, resurfacing only to check her location. He’s close. Back turned, screaming for his father. Nearly there. Nearly – a wave crashes over them and drags him under. Down. Down. Faster. Her lungs burn. A Siren scream builds in her throat against the injustice. Hot, white hot, lead. She can’t breathe. She can’t - She swallows it, forcing the power back, back into her arms, her tail. Save the boy. Caroline prays, eyes fixed on the little head trailing down. Persephone, the Goddess the sirens had failed, the reason for their existence. Persephone save him. Let not your husband claim him yet. Caroline plunges ever deeper and – miracle of miracles- snatches the child, cradling him safe in her arms.
They break the surface in a fountain of foam and curse words.
Gently, so gently, Caroline tows the brave child to the sanctity of dry land, making sure his mouth stays above the water at all times. Live. Breathe. Live. She wills it with her own breath, refusing to let cruelty claim a life like this. Really, she ought to leave him on the dune, safe from the ocean’s rage but Caroline finds she can’t stop. Her tail melt away as she staggers onto the beach herself, the returning use of legs burning with every step, an echo of the icy stab to the gut that had ended her human life all those years ago. Her chiton, soft and pure in a way she just isn’t anymore, tangles round her legs as it unfurls with the same transformative magic, tripping her. It’s been so long since she walked on land that Caroline stumbles dumbly with him, clutching that blonde hair to her shoulder, until she cries out in agony.
They tumble into the sand.
The next time she looks up there are a pair of blue eyes, wide and full of light, blinking inquisitively up at her.
He coughs up water and Caroline rubs his back. Damn the ice in her veins.
“Are you an angel?” he asks scratchily and Caroline wants to cry. It’s a very mermaid thing to do.
“I’m Caroline” she hums softly, remembering the old custom of presenting her hand to him, blinking rapidly, hoping to pass as human.
“You sound like an angel” he professes, brow furrowing, as if trying to reconcile her beautiful face with the lie he senses.
“You sound thirsty” she counters with a laugh, wiggling her toes in the sand, hands digging into the sand with the effort to hide the pain.
He nods, rubbing at his throat thoughtfully. Eyes never leaving hers.
“What is your name litt faegir?” she asks, brow furrowing as she tries to remember the little Norse she has overheard in the harbours, the words clumsy and thick on her unskilled tongue.
It’s obvious from the raised eyebrow of her little charge how poorly she’s spoken but thank Zeus he understands her.
“My name is Niklaus”
Caroline wobbles upright onto her knees – Gods, the pain, bites so hard she tastes the sweet sharpness of blood, sucks it into her mouth for the drop of replenishment it will over – and balances her hands either side of his slight shoulders.
“Well,” she swallows hard and forces a lovely smile “Niklaus, can you find your way home?” she has broken so much of their code already, but if Caroline dares venture among man she would not make it home again. A child may trust her beauty to the secrecy of magic and the untouched magnitude of the world, but where children cherish, men fight to possess.
He nods so fiercely that his chin bounces off his chest with the effort. Sweet, brave boy. “I thought so. Well, Niklaus I want you to go home and –“ she casts round for anything she might give him and seeing a shell, half buried, scoops it up. “Tell your father” she spits the word, poisonous dirt, “that Thor deemed you more than worthy”
If he thinks her an angel, perhaps she might pass for a Valkyrie instead.
Another raised eyebrow. Smart boy. “Great things take up little room, Niklaus, so great is their power they do not need more than they take. Now, cover your ears” she levels him with a commanding stare and does not relinquish as it she breathes a song into the shell.
It’s not enough to kill the man, if one can call him that, but it will protect Niklaus and that is all that matters.
She presses it into the pudgy pink hand and sends Niklaus on his way.
“Will I see you again?” he insists. He has a siren’s focus, she’ll give him that.
Caroline sighs. Another law. “You don’t need me” she tries.
“I want to though” he protests with protruding lip, his hand finding hers and not recoiling at its unearthly coldness.
“If you need me” she promises, before she can think it through fully, properly, regardless of consequence. Goddess forgive me “Now. Go.”
She stays kneeling in the sand until he reaches the hill top, one last speedy flail of an arm in farewell before he disappears over the other side.
It’s only then that Caroline allows herself to let the pain overwhelm her.
****
She wakes to the cool restorative of the water, Enzo’s arms, strong iron bands around her, the warm of his chest at her back. Kat is a little way away, Bonnie and Elena treading water with her.
“Why didn’t you let one of us get him?” Bonnie asks, tugging on Katherine’s arm to try and get closer but failing to move the stronger girl, who waits until Caroline and Enzo are fully immersed before swimming over.
“Not – fast enough” Caroline explains slowly, rubbing her tail gingerly. Enzo presses a kiss to her hair and rubs away the pins and needles in her arms.
“Caroline did the right thing. She’s the fastest after all” Kat nods along with Enzo.
Katherine chews her lip thoughtfully before holding out a hand “Come on then. We better get to the heart of the storm. That’ll pep her right up. And none of us will ever speak of this again.” Enzo’s top lip curled, half affection, half disgust.
Katherine wouldn’t be Katherine if she wasn’t thinking in terms of survival.
“Demeter will never know,” she continued, beginning to tow the two mermaids steadily away, more to herself than anyone else “You won’t tell her. I won’t tell her, I will live in one piece”
Caroline glanced at Enzo to find him already gazing at her knowingly, in the way that the two of them always did.
Later, away from the merfolk, as their cresting the waves waiting for the first crack of lightening across the water, Kat pulls her into a hug that would crush a human’s ribs, locking their tails together and tells her never to pull a stunt like that again.
*****
Caroline goes back of course.
Bound to the water as she is, Caroline waits by the harbour wall for Enzo a week later, bashing her tail at the rocks the sirens often haunt impatiently. Merfolk were reborn peacefully, out of love of the ocean and even though like their siren cousins, the ocean sustains them, it does not restrict them so severely. Walking among mortal men is not a betrayal for Enzo because he was not betrayed by them.
Enzo pops out from behind the wall suddenly making her jump “By the Trident don’t do that” she admonishes irritatedly smacking his muscled arm hard “Fuck Enzo”
“Sorry” he apologises, with a shrug before starting to swim off.
“Hey! Is he alright?”
Enzo nods but doesn’t stop to the point that Caroline has to put on a burst of speed to catch him up, till she can grab her brother by the arm.
“You’re sure” she asks, with a tone that is in no way a question.
“Caroline, darling, he’s fine. I promise. Healthy and safe. Whatever you gave him keeps him protected. Looking stronger by the day according to his mother. It’s just –“ Enzo casts a worrisome glance over her shoulder back at the settlement. Caroline turns too, but sees no discernible cause for alarm.
She raises an eyebrow, feels her fangs descend, the way they always do when she’s stressed. Her thoughts spiral, thinking of the many things that could go wrong. What if the trickling of her song that she put in that shell for him has made him too strong, too healthy. A beacon of magic. Small doses humans don’t tend to see unless their sensitive. But personal magic humans seem to distrust.
“Oh gods Enzo, did I put too much in the shell, did I –“ Did I make him a target by trying to save him?
“His mother’s a witch,” Enzo blurts out, cutting off her worries dead. New ones sprout in their place but Enzo, as always it seems, second guesses her. “If she’s noticed anything love, Esther isn’t saying anything. No, it’s” Enzo’s rolls his neck in irritation at whatever this unforeseen development is “he’s asking for you”
Oh. Oh of course. Children accept magic but once they’ve been exposed to it, they recognise it too easily. It would have been simple for Klaus to sense the presence of another aquatic creature so close to him, especially with the shell to aid him. Caroline can picture the boy in her mind’s eye, pushing his way to the door of their hut and looking up at Enzo in his foreign dark leather armour that he’d been wearing when died on the fields of Troy, asking for Caroline.
How did Enzo explain that one? She wonders. As they swim back to the lagoon that the mermaids reside in on the warmer days of the year, Enzo explains. He had pretended to be a young trader, whose sister – herself – Caroline realises, had seen the little boy and helped him get home. She’d been anxious to know that he was well after his ordeal. Esther – the mother – had nodded gratefully, cordial enough but Enzo could tell, one magical being to another, she’d wanted him off the doorstep as soon as possible.
“He said” Enzo sighs frustrated, as he levies himself up onto the nearest boulder “He said he needed to see you”
At Enzo’s words, Caroline feels a tug, a connection she hadn’t known was there behind her breastbone, a sharp inhalation, like when food used to go down the wrong way. Where her heart used to be.
Her words, even though meant as reassurance to a frightened child had been taken as an oath. Well, she had meant it.
So Caroline returns yet again.
Turns out there’s a river, that lets her investigate without the escort. Enzo had drawn her a map towards Niklaus’ house but as she scans the town it turns out she doesn’t need it. The call of her own magic aches from somewhere nearby, longing to be reunited but surrounded by a paler grey energy that must be Niklaus’. And there he is, legs dangling over the side of the riverbank. The little blond boy has become a golden child in the short time she’s been gone, thriving from the energy source round his neck.
“Caroline! You came back!” he shouts, jumping up and clapping his hands.
“Sssh sssh litt faegir” she scolds gently, one claw like nail to her lips, ready to sink under the shallow water at a moment’s notice. She’s no idiot, Caroline had chosen her time well. Wednesday is trading day, the men are at their boats or selling their wares. The women are washing and cooking but that does not mean no-one will hear his delighted crowing.
Surely the boy saved by Thor has become known by sight amongst his people if he wasn’t before.
“Why are you swimming in the river?”
Caroline laughs and flicks her tail briefly out of the water.
“You’re a mermaid” he breathes, staring open mouthed after the flash of gold she’d revealed. “But you had legs!” his tone changes immediately, face screwing up with disappointment at the trick. Better to let him believe his own assumption. If he found out what she really was, he’d be screaming in no time.
“It’s a kind of magic. Now, you told my brother you needed to see me, so here I am.”
Caroline eases herself out of the water up beside him and is instantly tackled with a warm hug. Awkwardly, Caroline returns the embrace with one arm, careful to keep the talons of her nails away from his fragile skin.
Niklaus snuffles gently into her chiton “I missed you.” Caroline rubs his back a little harder.
“And I missed you Niklaus” she tries to sooth, remember the way she’d spoken to the babies in her human life. He notices the honeyed tone her voice takes and the boy’s face screws up in annoyance.
Shit she’s bad at this.
Chucking his chin gently upwards, Caroline forces Niklaus to watch her carefully. “I meant what I said Niklaus. Whenever you need me, I will come back” the ache in her breastbone means she could hardly deny him. “But that does not mean you may call me whenever you want me. Okay? I need far more water to survive than you do”
Challenge sparks in his eyes and Caroline wonders how anyone could think this boy was anything less than a warrior.
But Niklaus seems to sense that this is not a punishment but an unfortunate fact of life. Something he’ll have to get used to accommodating. His face relaxes a little, though his brow is still furrowed in discontent.
Pressing a kiss to the crinkle between his eyebrows, Caroline slips back into the water, unable to hold back the sigh of relief as her legs dissolve and the throbbing pain leaves with it.
Niklaus stands too and they watch each other carefully for a moment; human and siren, two worlds observing each other through the veil.
“Be good for me” she commands gently and Niklaus’ little head bounces off his chest again as he nods in a way that makes her chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with the bind of her promise.
The current carries her home and that is the last Caroline sees of Niklaus.
****
Katherine’s picking a blood clot out of her teeth, idly batting away bits of wreckage with her tail when she mentions that she thought Caroline had been at the hunt. It had far too close to a human settlement and Caroline hadn’t wanted to risk it. Katherine on the other hand, where she has the advantage, loves to play.
It’s not like Caroline feeds on humans to the point of death – she’ll snatch and drink her fill but she always lets them go alive. Too close to the harbours and it can mean their nets get too close. She’s seen how they put mermaids carved on the front of their ships, as a warning or a peace offering to the ocean.
She shudders to think what they’d do with a siren.
“No?” Caroline’s comb slips through her tangles in confusion, sharing a look with Bonnie. Katherine always has an angle, it’s obvious in her voice.
“Oh? So it wasn’t your energy I sensed in the village? Wasn’t there a boy you saved from there once? The place named after the Falls?”
Caroline sits up straight, the thrash of her tail sending crumbs of stone skimming across the water. It’s been eight years, she thinks, since she had bidden Niklaus goodbye. She never did finds out how old he was, so she can’t think how old he would be now. There has been no thrum to her heart since the day she left him by the river but he will no longer be the boy she knew. He’d almost be a man by now.
A man!
As they watch Caroline’s tail disappear like a golden blade in her desperation, Elena narrows her eyes at Katherine across the body of water.
“You did that on purpose”
Katherine regards her descendant through veiled eyes, and wonders how someone who enjoys the companionship of two men can be so judgemental. Elena may have the Petrova fire but at least Katherine makes some use out of it.
“And here I thought you would understand ‘Lena. No matter how hard we try to shut it out, humanity keeps trying to fight its way back in. Sometimes I let it”
****
Caroline swims harder than she has for many years, since she brought a little boy home. The huts of the settlement blur past and perhaps it is her imagination but the place does feel larger, louder than it had the last time she was here.
Fuck.
It’s a trading day obviously, the port bustling with boats and people. Shit. Stealing along the harbour wall that traces along to the shoreline, Caroline decides the best method is to make a dash and hide under the jetty until her legs return. After that, with fresh blood in her system, thank the Goddess, the pain of walking on human land is blessedly manageable.
Katherine’s exceptionally kind when she wants to be, Caroline thinks with a surge of love for her strategic sister as she feels the blood sloshing through her veins towards her legs, dulling the reaction of pain.
Still, walking is slow, each drag of the foot an effort as she stumbles along. She doesn’t even know if Niklaus lives at the same hut he had as a boy but if he still carries the amulet she gave him, it will cease to work the moment he reaches manhood. He has to know. He has to be okay.
It doesn’t even occur to her until later that technically, Caroline has broken one of their laws in breaching land but the bond pulses warmly, lending her strength.
How could saving a life be wrong?
The town has grown, she’s certain of it, a riot of dyed flags they’ve unearthed from newly discovered plants string along between the buildings. Stalls cobbled together with roughly hewn, well used woods crowd the streets, forcing the people perusing them to rub shoulders.
Caroline, in her snowy white chiton and sun drenched hair is probably taken for a visiting witch and is given a wide berth. Panic begins to bubble beneath her skin at the closed faces and jealous eyes of the washer women and the fish wives. In a song of sirens, even the mermaids, there is love and respect, openness in the equality of their power.
As a human, Caroline had been popular among the women of her own village, though she had hardly shone. Comfortable. Not competition.
Now, it seems as she sees another head turn swiftly away from her, its seems her mere presence is a challenge. If Caroline were not on a mission, and in all honesty a time limit, she would indulge in this challenge; swish her hair and unleash the dark call of the whirlpools that sit behind her eyes. Fulfil their fears and rejoice in stealing away their menfolk with one beck of her finger.
Sometimes, Caroline wishes she didn’t have so much self-control.
Instead, Caroline closes her eyes and hums low in the hollow of her throat, a soft call to that part of herself she had left in guardianship of Niklaus. A glimmer of gold, no thicker than a thread, maps itself out before her like one of the stories of her childhood.
Except, Caroline realises too late with a wince cracking her perfect skin, this is Niklaus’ home town. His footsteps are everywhere and the thread is laced over the dirt tracks of pavement in a spider’s web. Stepping on the patches where the magic trace lies thickest, Caroline focuses on the vibrations of the Earth. As a being of water, land is decisively harder, but the steady thump of a heartbeat frissons along under her bare feet.
The magic guides her and soon the pain in her feet is all but unnoticeable. The crowd of huts thins as the river snakes out towards the mainland, a walk that turns into a steady climb. The trees bow suddenly to a plush expanse of untouched wilderness, where the unadulterated power of water has won out; a waterfall carving itself from the rockface.
The place named after the Falls, Kat had said.
Hunched by the water’s edge is a gangly looking youth, not quite yet a man with long straggly hair. Dirty blond hair.
“Niklaus?”
The young man’s head whips round so fast she’s surprised his neck doesn’t break. Now that he’s turned towards her, leaning on one hand to support the shift in weight, it’s definitely Niklaus. Even without the pool of gold at the soles of his feet, there’s something in the shape of jaw, thinned from the baby fat with the onset of manhood and the churning storm of blue that is his eyes. It’s quite amusing really given the way his mouth is working uselessly.
“Car- Caroline?” he manages at last.
Smiling in relief at seeing him untouched, it’s easy for Caroline shrug and spread her hands. “Hello Niklaus”
He scrambles upright, dashing on ungainly limbs like a young colt till he’s only a foot away from her. He’s the same height as her now, those striking eyes drinking her in.
“I- I thought you were a dream. I thought I’d made you up.” His hand, turned long and lean as an artist feels for his throat, where a thick cord is laced through a shiny white shell. “But even my imagination’s not that good”
Once upon a time, a line like that would have made her blush. He will be a heart breaker this one.
If there was a hint of malice in those words, if they were said for sport, things would be different, the water reminds, as it thunders over the edge of the cliff to the pool below. But her Niklaus is different, Caroline argues back, owning the claim behind her sternum that roars back at the injustice of the implication.
“That’s why I’m here”
Those elegant knuckles turn white around the shell. Caroline sweeps forward and unfurls the fingers, letting them twist through hers instead.
“Please -“
“If I don’t take it back, when you reach maturity, the magic will turn on you. The gift was made to a child not an adult. The rules are different, Niklaus”
“Nik. My friends call me Nik” he corrects as if he hasn’t heard, fingers twisting to caress the miracle of her smooth skin beneath his rough fingertips.
“Oh” Caroline’s face crumples with joy at the loveliness of the familiarity “Nik then. At least let me take the song out. You may keep the shell if you wish”
Nik nods begrudgingly and slips the cord free of his neck for her. He watches her staunchly as she presses the shell to lips and swallows back her song. After so long away, it tastes a little stale with the additional notes of wood smoke and paint. In front of her, Nik’s vibrating nervously and Caroline knows she doesn’t imagine the way he almost snatches back the talisman, his frame only relaxing once the shell is nestled again between his collarbones.
He’s taller obviously and from the slope of his shoulders, built to be a man of grace, lithe and fast, unlike the brute of a father she remembers from those years before. The way he’s watching her is no less intelligent either, though there’s a note of calculation in those eyes.
She’d said he had a touch of siren to him, but perhaps that’s more the witch’s blood in him.
And what in the name of Hades was he doing way out here anyway?
With a lack of subtlety that would shame Katherine, Caroline finds herself staring past Nik to the little nest he’d left on the ground when she’d happened upon him; a stretch of dark fabric that’s probably his cloak and a stick of charcoal with precious lengths of paper.
“You draw?” Caroline’s eyes find Nik’s once more in delight and it’s the human’s turn to blush; tips of his ears turning crimson as he ducks his head in acknowledgement. Artists have a touch of wilderness in their soul that Caroline can appreciate with sympathy. The moment of farewell, a tense lack of words between two people who are in all honesty, are somehow not quite strangers, disappears.
A smile, enthusiastic and true appears in the dip of Nik’s mouth and his hand finds hers, warm and natural to lead her to his works.
They settle on the ground and it’s only at Nik’s pointed gaze from the water to her aching limbs and back that Caroline understands. He’s scooted forward so that his legs are immersed in the waterfall’s pool, fully expecting her to do the same.
Caroline beams at him and cups his cheek. Then her smile falls away as she remembers what doing so will reveal. She cannot expose her true nature to him again. Not now when the mantel of manhood is ready to fall about those shoulders! Her nails split the earth beneath them, hard and unforgiving as her soul.
Caroline’s teeth start practically rotating in her mouth, gnawing the inside of her plump cheek rosy with blood.
Run. Flee.
Kill.
Nik smiles, a soft green shoot, unwavering. His eyes brim and he scoots closer through the earth to water. The monster behind her face shies away from such an unfettered beam of light.
Caroline pushes her feet home, washing the thoughts downstream.
Instead, she smiles at Nik, gentler still when he looks struck dumb by Tyche herself and gestures greedily for his papers. There’s sketches of people; though the most popular are his siblings apparently. She recognises them from that day on the shore, puppy fat melting away to form strong cheekbones. Among them, is his sister Rebekah. She’s pretty, happiness rounding out her cheeks, evidently beloved by the way Nik speaks her name. Caroline remembers her of course. She had been the one screaming the loudest when Mikael had left his son in the water. Apart from that, it seems to be anything and everything that inspires or challenges; the ships from the harbour, trees and the view from the harbour, stretching out to sea.
The majority of his work seemed to focus on the sea actually. Oh shit. Spinning round so fixes Nik with her harshest stare, bond or no, “You don’t draw me do you?” Caroline asked sharply.
Enzo will be scraping what’s left of her off the walls of Tartarus otherwise.
“No! No, I draw storms” Nik confessed sheepishly, pulling the paper free of Caroline’s hands lest they be shredded to ribbons and pulling an example out to show her. Sure enough, a storm jumps out at her, a beautiful, desperate clash of nature. The page is almost black, sections of the creamy parchment left carefully plain to capture the lightening splitting the sea, and the rare specks of light on the waves. It’s angry and sad, with something incredibly lonely about it, despite the obvious show of power. If Caroline could ever show anyone the inside of a siren’s heart, that would be it. Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
“May I keep this?” If anyone asks, it is so that Caroline can prove that she did the right thing. But in her heart, she wants the artwork to prove that there is beauty in this darkness, that sirens have hearts, no matter what the stories and the self-righteous mermaids may say.
Nik’s eyebrows crease in confusion at her request, his mouth moves once or twice, but no sound comes out, as if he’s trying to think how to phrase a delicate question. “Won’t it get wet?”
Laughter bubbles loudly out of Caroline’s throat before she can stop it. How do you think my hair stays this perfect all the time? She rubs her thumb gently into the paper, passing on some water resistance.
Nik nods in silent amazement at her abilities.
“There. Now I have something of yours to remember you by too”
His eyes rip away from the drawing, the terror of the little boy suddenly there again. “Won’t I see you again?”
Caroline shakes her head, determined this time. She is older. She is responsible. “No. Not this time” With one graceful shove, Caroline slides wholly into the water, swallowing back the cough that threatens to erupt at the lack of salt in the water. It’s only when she’s fully immersed in the waterfall’s pool that Nik’s eyes widen, at seeing the full length of her tail, as if totally unaware that he’d been sitting next to an immortal for the past three hours.
“But I’ll give you one last thing, Nik. I promise to do everything I can to keep you safe”. It’s a bigger promise than she can make, but keeping Klaus alive and seeing him in person can be two entirely different things.
Provided Katherine can keep her mouth shut that is.
But Caroline takes great pride in keeping her word. So, true to her promise, Mikael is lost at sea shortly after that.
****
“I really should stop coming to see you” Caroline notes one day when they’re sitting together in a sheltered beach cove, when Klaus is 21 Klaus, handsome and fully grown, now meeting the version she had seen of him in her third eye, ignores the comment. It’s an idle threat and they both know It by now. Instead he goes back to studying the anatomy of the fish Caroline has been dissecting for him for his sketchbook. Of course, the way Caroline’s fingers comb through his thick blonde hair, shorn short at adulthood, isn’t helping matters. It is strange sometimes to see Klaus older than her when Caroline is, physically at least, forever 17. The way he looms over her whilst she’s learning to walk properly, leaning on his strong arms to counteract the pain of touching the earth or when he shows her the new marvels of the modern age.
Caroline on the other hand, tries to ignore the heat rising in her face as he gently repositions her fingers out of the way of the fish’s spine to improve his angle, the stab of desire at his guiding hand on her bare waist. She thought her capability to feel anything like this had died when she did.
It fills her with unbridled joy that in this human age of industry, Klaus gets to work as an artist. He conjures up designs for houses, the churches and more elaborately carves decoration for ships. His skill puts bread on the table and his fame is growing in a way that Esther, so tied to the Old Ways, cannot complain about.
“Isn’t there a nice village girl you’ve got your heart set on?” Klaus’ charcoal slips across the drawing, narrowly missing ruining an hour’s work. It’s because she’s pushing. This trying to be noble thing is shit, no wonder Katherine never bothers. Sometimes, just sometimes when she’s truly angry at the world, Caroline’s glad she turned out siren after all. The only thing they have to adhere to is the universal law, rather than stupid standards of behaviour.
Klaus eyes meet hers, a rival storm brewing. His thoughts fly to pretty Tatia who keeps wondering where he slips off too most afternoons. Tatia, who Rebekah swears prefers Elijah to him. Klaus shakes his head, hard. “What village girl could compare to you? You’re beautiful, strong. Full of light”
Caroline snorts at his last compliment “And you say my magic doesn’t affect you” The silvery cable of their bond, nourished by years of contact and this newfound desire, tugs angrily at the insult from its place behind her heart.
Klaus leans into her space further, drawing quite forgotten, so that his lips, plush and full are inches from hers. It’s a taunt and invitation all at once but Caroline is too smart a fish to bite. No matter how much she wants too. Despite Klaus’ protestations that they will beat the odds as they have already, a Siren’s kiss kills as well he knows by now.
“Because I actually know you. You prefer who are now to the girl you once were. You like being strong, ageless, fearless” She was the one who had taught him his letters, to fish and to navigate by the stars alone. The one who had circled him close when he finally learned to swim, towing him along in the shallows with her tail until he felt confident enough to kick out on his own. She had made him strong and fearless. So why couldn’t he be ageless too by her side?
“What I like,” Caroline shoots back, trying valiantly to keep a snarl out of her throat as she speaks, forcing the desire down “is keeping you alive”
Klaus stands upright suddenly, the sand and papers flying everywhere. “I’m no child Caroline” he scowls even though that’s exactly what he’s acting like and she scowls back at the singular way Klaus says her name, as something precious, like treasure found on the ocean floor. “I’m actually fucking older than you in case you failed to notice” he growls, no attempt to keep his own temper, human till the last.
“Exactly!” Caroline stands up too, the savage bite of weight on her limbs only serving to fuel her rage at the height difference, the way his body is wholly angled to meet hers, two comets on a collision course. Only he would be so stupid, so arrogant as to argue with something as terribly capable as she is. Any of her sisters would have had his head long ago. This is why we don’t get involved with fucking mortals. “That’s my point! You need to keep getting older because you’re human! And you need to stay human which you can’t do with me around”
“I know my own mind! And at least I’m honest about what I want” Klaus’ voice was getting louder in his efforts to convince her. And also probably in relation to Caroline edging towards the water. He needed to shut up before someone found them.
Teetering between desperation, love and anger, Caroline’s control slips and she feels the knife sharp pain shoot across the soles of her feet. The sand stains red and Caroline’s fangs descend. Whipping her head round, lest Klaus see her true self (although maybe that’s precisely what he needs in order to let go) Caroline makes her way as best she can to the water
“DON’T TURN YOUR BACK ON ME” he roars, her match in every way, and Caroline’s never wanted to kiss him more. Why couldn’t she have been a human in his time? Why did they have to be this?
“I SHOULD HAVE TURNED MY BACK ON YOU AGES AGO” she screamed back, not caring if her voice deafened him before diving hard into the water. Her chiton dissolved in what Caroline would never admit was an excruciating belly flop (so much for immortal grace) and all that Klaus saw was a dismissive flick of that powerful gold tail.
****
“You haven’t spoken to me since the last full moon Niklaus,” Tatia whined from her position by door to his studio. It made Klaus’ skin itch to have even Rebekah in here, his private sanctum, where he could focus on the forces Caroline referred to as the Muses in peace. Where he could plot and plan and celebrate his love without interruption. Tatia may set his skin aflame but not in the same way as she does to Elijah.
“Have I offended you?” If Klaus had not known Caroline, with the pull of her siren’s voice, desire made real, he would have thought Tatia was dripping with sincerity. But he does know Caroline, has known true magic since he was a child. Hell, he has witch’s blood. He is magic, irrespective of his lack of natural talent. And Tatia sounds as hollow as Mother’s cauldron right now.
“Not at all. I’ve been busy that’s all. I am busy. Commissions. You know how it is”
She doesn’t, thank God.
For such a suggestive person, Tatia’s not very big on hints today. She sashays into his space, fingers gliding over various carvings and molds until her fingers come to rest on his pride and joy. It’s currently covered with an old piece of sail pulled from a nearby wreck by Caroline. Not that she knew what it was for mind, but by the time she finds out it’ll be too late. The sail hides his carving of a figurehead of Caroline, head thrown back in jubilation, warding off the evils of the water for Klaus. Some more work, a little more time with Kol and Freya, the most talented of his siblings at magic, and he’ll be ready to set off to Poseidon to ask how he can be with Caroline. Not that he’d told either of his siblings what he was after of course, the old promise to Caroline a gentle albatross around his neck. No, as far as they were aware, he simply wanted water magic to protect him as he travelled the world.
It wasn’t exactly a lie anyway.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that the Muses had guided his hands, so good is the likeness, that he can believe Caroline’s story about Pygmalion falling in love with his creation. If he did not have the original, he too would be tempted.
“I was wondering if you wanted to escort me to the Festival next week?” It’s cleverly worded, inquisitive and suggestive yet putting the asking squarely in his hands. Tatia’s fingers trace over the top of the Caroline statue’s head and Klaus breathes deeply through his nose – something taught to him by Enzo, Caroline’s beloved brother, on one of his tagalong visits, resisting the urge to rip her head off for her indolence.
“I thought Elijah would have asked” he tries gallantly.
“Not at all”
Lying Bitch as Rebekah would say
Get your fucking hands off the sheet Klaus commands in his head. If he does have magic, any at all, please, let it work. Let her let go of the sheet. Keep Caroline safe for me.
“There’s someone else” he admits at last, forcing his eyes away from the figure head of Caroline for his ship, lest he give her away through his focus.
“Who?!” It works, Tatia, spins so fast her braids slap her in the face, eyes cold and incredulous. She would make a good siren. If sirens were not creatures of justice.
“She doesn’t live here. Only visits occasionally. With the tide” There, that’s truth enough. And he’s lived long enough with Esther to know that you do not use names unless you want to give other’s their power. And he will protect Caroline till his dying day. Caroline’s warm glow in his breastbone surges, courage welling up in his throat. “I can’t give you what you want Tatia. I’ve seen a Goddess go. She doesn’t walk on the ground and “ he laughs, a charitable huff of breath “she is the one who has my heart”
“You’re not making sense. Speaking in riddles.” Tatia tuts, as if her disapproval alone is enough to change a man’s heart. In her head it probably is.
She’s always banged on about poetry enough times in his hearing, but it seems Tatia doesn’t like it when it’s not being spoken about her. There’s the tiniest movement over Tatia’s shoulder, like the flash of sunlight on the water and there stands Enzo, watching undisturbed with interest from where he’s leaning against the harbour wall with his arms crossed.
She needs to leave. Now.
Klaus smiles at Enzo over Tatia’s shoulder “To speak plainly Tatia, I suppose my one and only love is the sea”
Enzo has to duck behind the tavern he’s laughing so hard, so he doesn’t see Tatia’s pretty little foot stomp as she swishes those famous Petrova curls and stalk off to spin her toils around a different Mikaelson. “You are bespelled” she hisses. Any worry her words might have brought evaporate when Enzo reappears around the corner.
The two men embrace warmly. “How are you brother?” Enzo greets warmly, slapping on the shoulder. Enzo, his fourth brother, who taught him whittle when he was nine and couldn’t hold a sword, and control his famous temper, Enzo who is always game to raise a little hell, regardless of the Norns anger, in a way Kol can’t hold a candle to. Enzo who taught him how to fight and actually listened to his plan for a future with Caroline without focusing on his humanity “How goes your quest?”
Klaus growls out a sigh of frustration “Slow. Kol and Freya are nearly there but I’d rather get firsthand information than what we can decipher.”
Enzo frowns, though it does nothing to mar his good looks “If Caroline knew what you were trying, she’d have my heart out of my chest in a moment. And she’d eat it in front of me.”
“It was your idea.” Klaus shoots back, though there’s no anger in it. After all, if this goes well, he doesn’t want Enzo hating him.
“This has everything to do with saving Caroline’s heart, Klaus. She” he sighs, pacing up and down the studio in search of proper phrasing “She deserves the world. And a siren in love? That just might be the way” Enzo cares nothing for Caroline’s bloodlust, for her talons and teeth. Just her happiness. Her freedom. His hand comes to rest on the top of the statue’s head thoughtfully, gentle in a way Klaus now knows Tatia will never be.
“Who was that?” he jerks his head back in the direction Tatia had just left from.
“Tatia Petrova. She’s…trouble”
Enzo stares at him for a brief moment before he bursts out laughing, muttering something about the Fates sense of humour before he turns back to the table, ready with his latest plan.
*****
Enzo catches Katherine and Caroline in the midst of a heated argument in the middle of Bermuda later that week. “We’re not human Caroline” Katherine shrieks, spittle flying along with the spray of the waves.
“We were once! Or have you forgotten!” Caroline yells back, golden tail thrashing like Poseidon’s trident in the water, the waves seeming to obey her every whim.
How they ended up in the Bermuda triangle, Enzo shudders to think but the sooner they leave the better. This place does things to people.
“Caroline, we’re not mermaids. Sirens were born to bring balance”. Katherine’s not being callous or controlling, she actually looks concerned, trying to catch her sister’s hands and scowling every time Caroline sways out of reach. “Whatever this is, with that boy, it isn’t love”
“Why not? We’re both born of the ocean”, Caroline can’t help but argue the point
“True. But water changes depending on it’s circumstances. Elena, Bonnie, even Enzo”. Katherine jerks her head at him, fuck, he’d thought they hadn’t seen him. If he get’s dragged into one more argument he’s going to lose a fucking fin. “They died naturally with a love of the ocean in their veins. Mermaids are as soft as a stream. You and me, our lives were taken from us. When you woke up again d’you remember how it felt? That fury so strong it was like ice in your heart? Well, water might understand but ice does not forgive.”
“He’s had a girl bothering him” Enzo drops casually into conversation from the other side of the bay. If casually is bellowing at the girls across the choppy water. The flush of Caroline’s elegant neck and the thrash of her tail is all he needs. It was a good thing the sirens weren’t born of Medusa, because if looks could kill…
Taking mercy and no small measure of delight, Enzo smiles “Turns out she’s a Petrova. Perhaps Katherine or Elena should have a word with their descendant? Depends whether you want to scare her or warn her?”
“Send Katherine” Caroline says after a minute’s thought, like a general giving orders.
Enzo smiles, the light reflecting off his perfect teeth. “Scare her it is.”
Tatia gives all the Mikaelsons a wide berth after that.
End of Part One