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queenslayerbeeBack again with a couple more old fics during these harsh ao3-less days!
I wrote this one-shot for a Klaroline gift exchange back in 2022. I also included a little bonus chapter with an edit for a different prompt by the giftee, as I was undecided and unsure of whether I'd have the time to write the other one, as some complications rose.
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Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, the bastard son of a queen aimed to complete his yet most dangerous task: to bring home the head of the Golden Dragon.
The fair prince Niklaus had travelled long miles, chasing adventure after adventure, but none of his achievements ever seemed to be enough to please the king; or, at the very least, to impress him enough to surrender himself to the reality of Niklaus’ value.
The farther he advanced on his journey, the longer it took for the exhausted pigeon that carried his and his brother Kol’s messages to reach its destination. But just that last week a missive had finally reached him, almost a month after Niklaus sent news about how he solved the mystery of the treasure in the sirens’ island. In the letter, Kol detailed a story related by a bard to the court; a faraway land, on Niklaus path, terrorized by a dragon guarding a beautiful heiress in a high tower.
It was every bit the cliché, and Kol’s message had been primarily focused on the beautiful bard; but amidst his musings about her rich brown skin and the raspy quality of her voice, Niklaus could infer the king’s fascination with the tale. Kol even made sure to mention that a union with a grateful princess would bring such honour to the kingdom that Mother would shine with rarely expressed pride and Father would fume at the mere thought of Niklaus sitting on a throne of his own.
Niklaus felt little interest in settling down with a timid princess, even with the promise of a crown; yet he was as spellbound by the tale of the powerful dragon who ended the lives of the two famous brother knights from Salvezza’s County as his brother had been with its teller.
And so, Niklaus followed his brother’s indications and approached the Golden Dragon’s territory. He stalked his prey in the night, making good use of the senses his true father’s curse passed down to him; he lay in wait, hidden by the woods’ dark shadows, and he waited.
The beast finally arrived, and it was splendid. It flew the skies with a roar that made the ground underneath Niklaus reverberate out of sheer power, showing off a dexterity that should have been incompatible with its extraordinary size, of such grandiosity it could’ve swallowed the prince whole.
The dragon descended in its trajectory and landed over the ample top of the tower as the first rays of the sun reflected on its bright golden scales, regaling them with an iridescent shine that momentarily blinded Niklaus. And then, at a snail’s pace, as the sun rose and regaled it with its light, the dragon began to transform.
It shrunk and its features progressively refined until in its stead stood a young woman of pristine sun-kissed skin in full display, with a cascade of bright yellow waves that outshone the sky caressing her shoulders. Even at a distance, illuminated as she was, Niklaus’ keen eyesight could make out the deep-red blood around her mouth and on her hands.
Niklaus couldn’t tell which of her two forms had rendered him more awestruck.
An eternity came and went until the bastard prince’s muscles responded to him; he regained the ability to stand up on his own two legs long after the woman –the dragon; the princess–, and walked towards the castle. Calmly, in full view of its windows, Niklaus shed every one of his weapons and threw them aside without care to stop the metal’s loud noise against the stone floor of the grounds, and he waited.
His patience was rewarded when the gargantuan doors of the castle opened to make way for the woman. She was encased in a comfortable dark blue satin robe with silver accents that let her calves and her forearms, now clean of blood, visible. Her eyes were the colour of clean waters and her cheeks and the bridge of her nose was adorned with freckles. Barefoot as she was, the soles of her feet rested over what had to be scalding hot stone under the sunlight, a fact that left her seemingly unaffected.
Her beauty was elegant and warm and bright, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she titled her head, frowned, and spoke with a pleasant, airy and musical tone.
“Whoever you are, you made a huge mistake when you entered this place.”
Niklaus sank, prostrating with one knee on the ground in a well-deserved show of respect.
“I am Niklaus, son of Queen Esther of Mikhail.” He rose and stood in front of her, eye to eye. “I saw you, on the tower.”
Eyes and voice cold as ice, she asked him, “And what did you think?”
“I think,” he said, “that you are magnificent.”
Her features softened minutely as she studied him with a penetrating gaze, before solemnly returning his introduction.
“I am Caroline of the Mysts. The Golden Dragon.”
Manners observed, Caroline –a princess with a name out of a verse in a song– invited Niklaus in and guided through empty halls into a breakfast table with a decadent spread: toasted bread and purple grapes and honey and cheese and strawberries and more, as far as the eyes could reach, with barely any empty space on the table.
“A prince, you say? Not the first one we’ve had around here,” she said, as she took a silver knife to spread what smelled like plum jam on her bread and bit into it with evident gusto.
“The first one you won’t eat, I hope,” he quipped.
“By the time I’m done with them they’re a bit too... scorched to be nutritious,” she chuckled, “but I’ll have you know, I never start the fight. I just know how to finish it. Don’t try to kill me, and we won’t have a problem.”
Niklaus nodded, gracious, and poured himself a glass of pomegranate juice as he looked around the table to decide what meal it’d accompany.
“Now,” she added, transparently seeking to shock him “although it’s not my preference –all that fabric and chainmail–... I can’t in good conscience promise I’ve never lost myself in the heat of things enough to have a taste of human meat.”
Niklaus thought back to shameful nights where his restraints failed him –shameful, for the punishment that always followed such nights, always dealt by the king’s hands and never stopped by any of his children.
“I can’t in good conscience say that. either,” he confessed.
Caroline, who at that moment had raised a glass of lemonade to her mouth, repressed a spit-take as she looked at him with alarm.
“Um...” Her cool demeanour abandoned, she stared at him with wide eyes and a queasy turn of her mouth.
Vaguely amused, Niklaus called on the powers that only came for him completely when the full moon was high to reassure her, letting his eyes turn into a golden colour he knew to be muter and less spectacular than her own scales.
“Oh. Okay,” she laughed with obvious relief. “You understand, monsters, they’re more than welcome here. Humans who cannibalize their own species... that would make me uneasy.”
Niklaus rare full smile was brought to light effortlessly by her lighthearted laugh.
“May I ask, who prepared all this?” he asked as he brought a plate of various cheeses and dried ham close to him.
“Oh, that’s all Lorenzo.”
“And who might that be?” Niklaus felt a spike of jealousy surge in him.
“A good cook,” she replied, pointing at the table, “a guard; cleaning crew; a manservant of all kinds, really. He’s been here for as long as I, and I would’ve gone insane without him acting like a fussy matron.”
Ah. Not a description that raised cause for concern.
“How long have you been cursed?”
“I’m not cursed,” she told him, calm and knowing, as her eyes seemed to stare into his soul, “I’m cursed to remain here, unable to fly farther than my woods. But I, myself, my transformation... that’s not a curse. That was a blessing. And not something I could regret.”
“I’ve seen you in flight,” he said, feeling melancholic, “and you’re right. That part is not a curse.”
“Tonight, when I transform again,” she said with a smile, “I can show you what all of this looks like from above.”
He nodded, accepting her promise. Inwardly, as he finished his pomegranate juice, he made another one to himself that he would find the way to break the enchantment that contained her.
Niklaus would bring the Golden Dragon home with him; albeit safe, in a way that no one would've known to expect.
I wrote this one-shot for a Klaroline gift exchange back in 2022. I also included a little bonus chapter with an edit for a different prompt by the giftee, as I was undecided and unsure of whether I'd have the time to write the other one, as some complications rose.
Title: The Bastard Prince and The Enchanted Dragon.
Fandom: Plecverse (The Vampire Diaries).
Character/Pairing: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson.
Rating/Warnings: M, none.
Summary: Niklaus, bastard prince of Mikhail, is on a quest to hunt the Golden Dragon, when he finds more than he bargained for.
Word count: 1.4k.
read more
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Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, the bastard son of a queen aimed to complete his yet most dangerous task: to bring home the head of the Golden Dragon.
The fair prince Niklaus had travelled long miles, chasing adventure after adventure, but none of his achievements ever seemed to be enough to please the king; or, at the very least, to impress him enough to surrender himself to the reality of Niklaus’ value.
The farther he advanced on his journey, the longer it took for the exhausted pigeon that carried his and his brother Kol’s messages to reach its destination. But just that last week a missive had finally reached him, almost a month after Niklaus sent news about how he solved the mystery of the treasure in the sirens’ island. In the letter, Kol detailed a story related by a bard to the court; a faraway land, on Niklaus path, terrorized by a dragon guarding a beautiful heiress in a high tower.
It was every bit the cliché, and Kol’s message had been primarily focused on the beautiful bard; but amidst his musings about her rich brown skin and the raspy quality of her voice, Niklaus could infer the king’s fascination with the tale. Kol even made sure to mention that a union with a grateful princess would bring such honour to the kingdom that Mother would shine with rarely expressed pride and Father would fume at the mere thought of Niklaus sitting on a throne of his own.
Niklaus felt little interest in settling down with a timid princess, even with the promise of a crown; yet he was as spellbound by the tale of the powerful dragon who ended the lives of the two famous brother knights from Salvezza’s County as his brother had been with its teller.
And so, Niklaus followed his brother’s indications and approached the Golden Dragon’s territory. He stalked his prey in the night, making good use of the senses his true father’s curse passed down to him; he lay in wait, hidden by the woods’ dark shadows, and he waited.
The beast finally arrived, and it was splendid. It flew the skies with a roar that made the ground underneath Niklaus reverberate out of sheer power, showing off a dexterity that should have been incompatible with its extraordinary size, of such grandiosity it could’ve swallowed the prince whole.
The dragon descended in its trajectory and landed over the ample top of the tower as the first rays of the sun reflected on its bright golden scales, regaling them with an iridescent shine that momentarily blinded Niklaus. And then, at a snail’s pace, as the sun rose and regaled it with its light, the dragon began to transform.
It shrunk and its features progressively refined until in its stead stood a young woman of pristine sun-kissed skin in full display, with a cascade of bright yellow waves that outshone the sky caressing her shoulders. Even at a distance, illuminated as she was, Niklaus’ keen eyesight could make out the deep-red blood around her mouth and on her hands.
Niklaus couldn’t tell which of her two forms had rendered him more awestruck.
An eternity came and went until the bastard prince’s muscles responded to him; he regained the ability to stand up on his own two legs long after the woman –the dragon; the princess–, and walked towards the castle. Calmly, in full view of its windows, Niklaus shed every one of his weapons and threw them aside without care to stop the metal’s loud noise against the stone floor of the grounds, and he waited.
His patience was rewarded when the gargantuan doors of the castle opened to make way for the woman. She was encased in a comfortable dark blue satin robe with silver accents that let her calves and her forearms, now clean of blood, visible. Her eyes were the colour of clean waters and her cheeks and the bridge of her nose was adorned with freckles. Barefoot as she was, the soles of her feet rested over what had to be scalding hot stone under the sunlight, a fact that left her seemingly unaffected.
Her beauty was elegant and warm and bright, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she titled her head, frowned, and spoke with a pleasant, airy and musical tone.
“Whoever you are, you made a huge mistake when you entered this place.”
Niklaus sank, prostrating with one knee on the ground in a well-deserved show of respect.
“I am Niklaus, son of Queen Esther of Mikhail.” He rose and stood in front of her, eye to eye. “I saw you, on the tower.”
Eyes and voice cold as ice, she asked him, “And what did you think?”
“I think,” he said, “that you are magnificent.”
Her features softened minutely as she studied him with a penetrating gaze, before solemnly returning his introduction.
“I am Caroline of the Mysts. The Golden Dragon.”
Manners observed, Caroline –a princess with a name out of a verse in a song– invited Niklaus in and guided through empty halls into a breakfast table with a decadent spread: toasted bread and purple grapes and honey and cheese and strawberries and more, as far as the eyes could reach, with barely any empty space on the table.
“A prince, you say? Not the first one we’ve had around here,” she said, as she took a silver knife to spread what smelled like plum jam on her bread and bit into it with evident gusto.
“The first one you won’t eat, I hope,” he quipped.
“By the time I’m done with them they’re a bit too... scorched to be nutritious,” she chuckled, “but I’ll have you know, I never start the fight. I just know how to finish it. Don’t try to kill me, and we won’t have a problem.”
Niklaus nodded, gracious, and poured himself a glass of pomegranate juice as he looked around the table to decide what meal it’d accompany.
“Now,” she added, transparently seeking to shock him “although it’s not my preference –all that fabric and chainmail–... I can’t in good conscience promise I’ve never lost myself in the heat of things enough to have a taste of human meat.”
Niklaus thought back to shameful nights where his restraints failed him –shameful, for the punishment that always followed such nights, always dealt by the king’s hands and never stopped by any of his children.
“I can’t in good conscience say that. either,” he confessed.
Caroline, who at that moment had raised a glass of lemonade to her mouth, repressed a spit-take as she looked at him with alarm.
“Um...” Her cool demeanour abandoned, she stared at him with wide eyes and a queasy turn of her mouth.
Vaguely amused, Niklaus called on the powers that only came for him completely when the full moon was high to reassure her, letting his eyes turn into a golden colour he knew to be muter and less spectacular than her own scales.
“Oh. Okay,” she laughed with obvious relief. “You understand, monsters, they’re more than welcome here. Humans who cannibalize their own species... that would make me uneasy.”
Niklaus rare full smile was brought to light effortlessly by her lighthearted laugh.
“May I ask, who prepared all this?” he asked as he brought a plate of various cheeses and dried ham close to him.
“Oh, that’s all Lorenzo.”
“And who might that be?” Niklaus felt a spike of jealousy surge in him.
“A good cook,” she replied, pointing at the table, “a guard; cleaning crew; a manservant of all kinds, really. He’s been here for as long as I, and I would’ve gone insane without him acting like a fussy matron.”
Ah. Not a description that raised cause for concern.
“How long have you been cursed?”
“I’m not cursed,” she told him, calm and knowing, as her eyes seemed to stare into his soul, “I’m cursed to remain here, unable to fly farther than my woods. But I, myself, my transformation... that’s not a curse. That was a blessing. And not something I could regret.”
“I’ve seen you in flight,” he said, feeling melancholic, “and you’re right. That part is not a curse.”
“Tonight, when I transform again,” she said with a smile, “I can show you what all of this looks like from above.”
He nodded, accepting her promise. Inwardly, as he finished his pomegranate juice, he made another one to himself that he would find the way to break the enchantment that contained her.
Niklaus would bring the Golden Dragon home with him; albeit safe, in a way that no one would've known to expect.
Valkyrie!Caroline x Viking!Klaus
“As I lay dying upon the battlefield,
Odin's ravens circling above,
I see your valiant self approach,
Gleaming silver armor and shield,
Hardening your gentle features,
A bloodied sword in your hand.
But as you kneel beside me,
Smiling softly,
Holding me in your warm arms,
A lover's comfort,
I begin to weep,
Not with tears of sadness,
For my death,
But with tears of joy,
For my life,
That will begin forever with you,
In the noble jeweled palace of Valhalla.”
C Wolff.[Caption: various images to set the mood for the aesthetic, accompanied by the poem seen above. The set includes a blonde woman in armor carrying a sword, with her face outside the picture; Klaus lying in water with a cut in his neck and marked veins, as he was in The Originals when Davina cut off his connection to his sire line; Silas taking Caroline appearance and putting her hands on Klaus’ face, as well as his reaction to it, looking up at her while he was sick; an image of a skull with horns covered by a coat of fur in the winter; viking weapons -sword, shield, arrows, a helmet- lying in the snow; and the front of a viking ship, like a dragon with its jaws open.]