Happy Monday! This was written for Day 5 of Klaroline AU Week (Crossovers/Fusions), and it's a fusion with one of my favourite novels, The Night Circus, by Erin Morgenstern. It borrows some elements of the circus setting and was long enough that I thought I'd post it as a oneshot here. Enjoy!

Outskirts of London, 1899

The circus arrives without warning

It is simply there one day and when the sun finally dips below the horizon, that is when the gates are flung open to the eager crowds. They meander through the maze of tents, they marvel at the sights and sounds; they dawdle in the walkways, trying to absorb the magic of it all – but not him. No, the man who can proudly call himself one of the patrons of this venture, he strides through the labyrinth, his destination firmly in mind. He is looking for the circus' crowning jewel. He is looking for Caroline.

She is heard before she is seen.

The singer's tent is large and inviting and the sweet sound of an aria floats out, wrapping up the guests in its enchantment. Klaus pauses at the entrance, just for a moment, letting himself indulge in the sound. Without making a sound he slips inside, staying close to the back of the enthralled crowd, not that any of them would have noticed his presence. No, their attention is solely on the woman in center stage, skirts billowing around her, arms outstretched as she sang to the crowd, words wrapping around them like silk, caressing and enticing, the effect unique for each.

Her pull is hard to ignore, and Klaus' eyes drift shut of their own accord. A few minutes feel like hours until the music stops and the audience drifts out in a daze, their faces etched with wonder. Once they leave, it is only him and her and though she faces away from him, he is sure she knows he's been waiting.

"Hello Caroline."

The mass of midnight blue silk that makes up her gown rustles when she turns, lips pulled into a wide smile. "Hello Klaus," she greets, and even though the song is over, her voice still rings with melody. Picking up her skirt, she carefully steps down from the raised platform in the middle of the tent and meets him half way, easily fitting into his waiting arms. "You missed the show," she admonishes lightly, though her words hold no real heat.

"Rubbish, I was here the whole time," he says with a smirk and Caroline pulls away, swatting his chest lightly.

"I always know when you're in the audience; you make it hard to concentrate." Caroline has long since abandoned her shyness around the mysterious patron who would sit in on her show, eyes boring into her, nearly breaking her attention on the music. When people listened to her sing, they never saw her, they saw what her voice made them see, but Klaus had always been the exception to the rule. But then, she suspects that there's no rule Klaus can't break if he wants to.

"Allow me to acquit myself, sweetheart," Klaus says, his voice low as it washes over her ear. "Since I missed your show, perhaps you might give me a private performance?"

Caroline pulls away, stares into his eyes which are dark and wanting, and she knows her own are the same. "Very well," she says, doing her damnedest to keep her voice steady, "but not here."

Her performance tent is much too public, but her tent, quietly tucked away in a corner of the grounds, that is where she sings to him as he draws her close, gently spinning her in his arms. She sings as he pushes her down amongst the lush pillows on her bed, she sings as he pulls the strings of her corset loose, and then she stops singing as his mouth covers hers and the melody of the song gives way to the moans that slip past her lips as his hands run over her body.

"You stopped singing," Klaus remarks, much later, as he trails a finger up and down the bare expanse of her side. Caroline shifts closer, lets out a hum of appreciation.

"Allow me some rest," she says, her voice muffled by his chest, "besides, my voice doesn't even work on you."

Klaus frowns and pulls away just enough to look her in the eye, gently pushing an errant curl off her face. "Sweetheart, your voice is beautiful, I've said so since the first night I heard it."

"Yes, but it doesn't work on you, not like everyone else."

"What do you mean?"

"You look right at me."

"Love, where else would I-"

She stops him by reaching up to lay a soft hand on his cheek, staring up with an amused smile. Quietly, she starts to sing; just a simple verse from a lullaby learned long ago, a tune that dances on the edges of Klaus' memory from one of those rare and fleeting moments of childhood that wasn't marred by his father's hand. He can see nothing but her, lying beneath him, a vision that even his artist's eye could have never conjured.

"You see?" she says after a moment, "you're looking right at me."

"Caroline, I have you naked underneath me, where else would I look?" His voice is rough as he leans down to place a lingering kiss at her throat, pleased to hear her breath hitch. But her hand presses at his chest, just enough that he abandons his ministrations and meets her eyes again.

"Haven't you ever noticed then when people hear me sing, they're never really looking at me?"

"You have a packed tent every night."

"Their eyes glaze over though. They hear my voice, but their eyes see their loves, their fortunes, their hopes. They don't see me. But you always did."

Klaus thinks back to earlier that same night, to the mass of silent people brushing past him. And while his attention had been more focused on the beauty in front of him, he remembers how they had seemed, as if in a daze.

The truth dawns on him, and though it should have been obvious from the beginning, he can't help but feel that Caroline's beauty distracted him from seeing what was right in front of his face. Not that he minds, really.

"You have magic."

Caroline ducks her head shyly, too shy for their intimate state. "Everyone here does, you know that."

He does, and it's the ease with which he believes her that speaks to his own experiences. His mother's magic was hardly a secret from her own children, and her dream of the circus wasn't realized on the backs of cheap charlatan parlour tricks that so many performers tried to pass off as the real thing. No, Esther had cultivated true talent, and to Klaus, the shining star of it all lay under him, skin flushed with pleasure and wide eyes reflecting candlelight.

"Does it sadden you?" she asks as he draws her up so that she straddles his lap as he sits back against the headboard.

"What about you could possibly sadden me?"

"That you can't feel my magic?"

"On the contrary sweetheart," he whispers hotly against the skin of her throat, letting his lips follow the trail of his hands down her chest. "I'm quite certain that your magic works just fine, if you allow me to see you like this."

And she is a vision, he thinks, watching the ecstasy on her face as he cups her breast, pressing skilled kisses to the smooth skin, feeling how wet she is between her thighs.

"Klaus." The way she moans his name is enough to make him come like a green schoolboy, but Caroline deserves finesse and he intends to have her many times before the sun rises. With practiced ease, he lifts her so that his cock is buried in her slick, warm heat. Yes, he thinks, visions or not, this is magic enough for him, and her keen whimpers as he ruts his hips up to drive her over the edge is all the music he needs.

All pretense of gentleness fades away as he grips Carline tighter, pulling her closer, feeling her own fingers digging into his shoulders as she moves with him. Her small hands cup his jaw and she presses a hot kiss to his mouth, all tongue and teeth, exploring and tasting, ravenous and hungry and something even more powerful that Klaus is just barely able to put a name to.

When he is finally spent they don't bother separating, both enjoying the closeness far too much. The candlelight casts long shadows over their bodies, and Klaus memorizes the scene, promising to commit it to canvas later, but for now, he enjoys the weight of the beauty in his arms, and revels in her magic.

It's magic enough for him, he thinks.

But then, he knows he wants more.

Caroline has another packed tent and a familiar face to greet her when her performance ends. Klaus would be all too happy to seek the solitude of her private tent, but the night is young and she is due for another performance in a few hours anyway. They choose to meander through the circus instead, walking the circular paths between the black and white striped tents, Caroline pressed close to his side, seeking warmth where they know she doesn't need it, under the heavy material of her dress and coat.

Klaus for his part just pulls her closer, feeling unusually lighthearted in her presence. He knows every inch of the grounds, ever since the day his mother started talking nonsense about visions and illusions he has had the lay of the circus memorized as it grew from half-mad ramblings to a reality that only Esther would have the power to conceive. Yet despite his intimate knowledge, he allows Caroline to be their guide, excitedly regaling him with tales of her fellow performers, her found family who fill her days when he is not there. Selfishly, he envies every moment they spend with her.

There are the Petrova twins who confound and trick and deceive, but always delight with their double act. The Salvatore brothers run the big cats act, and have a harder time keeping each other in line than their animals. Bonnie keeps to her own tent tonight, telling fortunes to hapless fools who soak up her words. Whatever she tells them, it's rarely the truth. If she parted with that, they'd call for her head.

Caroline tells Klaus all this and more, charming a bag of popcorn from Enzo who runs the stand, and who always has a bag and a wink ready for his close friend. Klaus fixes the man with a hard stare but it has no effect, and it irks him to know he can never harm a member of the circus, of her family, and so he settles for pressing a kiss to her temple as they stroll away, surprising them both with his public act of affection.

Eventually they fall into silence, standing in front of the giant fountain near the circus gates, watching the water change colours. "It's supposed to reflect mood, you know," Caroline remarks idly, and Klaus hums in agreement, though he's never believed that.

"You would think the visitors would get suspicious."

"What, that a traveling circus manages all this? They think it's a trick. They're happy enough to never ask questions."

"I suspect if they did, Elijah would pay them a visit."

Caroline fell quiet, a frown marring her features. "Elijah…that's your brother, right?"

"My oldest brother, sweetheart, an absolute dullard. Pray you never get caught in conversation with him."

She huffed a small laugh, but still kept her eyes trained on the waters of the fountain. It was enough to alert Klaus that something was wrong.

"Caroline?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

She turns to look at him, a dazzling smile nearly blinding. "You're here. Nothing's wrong."

She leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his lips that he yearned to deepen and indulge in, but then, he recognized the distraction for what it was. Summoning all willpower, he pulled away, holding her shoulders so that he could keep her at a proper length, watching as her face fell in disappointment.

"Tell me the truth, sweetheart."

Caroline sighed, fidgeting in his hold and turned back to the fountain, where the waters had turned a deep melancholy blue. "I forget, sometimes."

"Forget what?"

"When we first met, you were a mystery, a stranger, and it was easy to think you existed only within the circus gates." She turned back to face him and Klaus immediately wished to take away the sorrow he saw there.

"But that's not true, is it? You have a brother, a family, a life outside the gates…I forget you have so much more out there. I'm terrible I know, but I wish - I wish-"

"What is it, Caroline?" Klaus asks, cupping her jaw. She sighs and leans into the warmth of his touch. The water behind them turns a deep gold, though neither notices.

"It doesn't matter. I'll never get it."

Klaus is ready to lay the world at her feet if she wants it, but she offers no further explanation and he can feel his heart tightening against this melancholy, desperate suddenly for a way to stave off what he knows is coming.

"Come with me, Caroline." The request is out before he can think to stop himself, and in all honestly, he never wanted to. What he does want is the woman in his arms, by his side for as long as he lives. Not simply stolen hours between shows or in the candlelight of her tent, he wants her in his bed, in his mansion, where he can shower her in luxury and show her what the world past the gates had to offer her.

"Leave the circus, come away with me." His voice is low and entreating and he cups her face, staring into her eyes, wide with shock. "I'll make you happy, sweetheart. Every day, if you'll let me."

Caroline's breathing stutters and for a moment her eyes shine with hope and wonder and Klaus feels his own cold heart soar, aching for her acceptance and he can practically taste the life he had just described for her, feel the warmth of their future in front of him.

And then that warmth slips into a sharp chill.

Caroline's face, which for a moment shone with such light and love, hardens against him. Her wide eyes closed as she pulled herself away, pacing back until the small distance felt as wide as a chasm, and Klaus could swear he's never felt cold such as this. Caroline looks at him with a touch of desperation, drinking in the sight of her lover as if she knows she will not get many more chances to do so.

Whatever the reasons for her rejection, Klaus has not survived this world by simply accepting situations for what they were. "Caroline, sweetheart, come here." He holds out a hand, steps forward, but it has the opposite effect and Caroline stepped back, shaking her head regretfully.

"I'm so sorry, Klaus. Truly I am. But…I can't."

Her words make her refusal all the more real and Klaus can feel the hot brush of anger down his spine, anger he'd never imagined he'd associate with her. "Do I deserve a reason for your contempt?"

Caroline flinches, as if he had physically slapped her. "How could you think that?" she whispers, "You know how I feel about you."

"Whatever it is, it's not enough to leave this place," Klaus spat, and behind him, the water of the fountain runs red with his rage.

"You think I don't want a future with you?!" Caroline cries. "I want it, Klaus, you have no idea how much!"

"Then what could possibly be stopping you?!"

Caroline takes a breath, opens her mouth to speak but Klaus can practically see the words get stuck in her throat and tears roll freely down her cheeks. However rejected he may feel, he can't stand to see her in this state and it's not long before he's crossed the gap between him, large hands cupping her face, imploring her to stop her tears.

"Sweetheart please…" Whether he's pleading for the truth or simply for her happiness, Klaus doesn't know.

Caroline shut her eyes, taking one, two, three shuddering breaths until the crying had stopped and she felt calm enough to speak. Grief settled in her bones, deep enough that she could feel the numbness spreading, hoping to protect her heart against what she knew she had to do.

"I can't leave, Klaus."

The hold he kept on her tightened and Klaus couldn't bear to step away, not again. "Yes you can love, I'd take care of you."

For as long as she lives, Caroline knows that she will never forgive herself for causing him this pain. "Let me go, Klaus. Forget me, find a wife outside the gates and be happy, far away from me."

Klaus drops his hold, searches her face for some explanation or answer but she offers nothing, simply steps back slowly until she is pacing away. Her lips whisper a soft apology, and then she turns on her heel and runs for the tents, disappearing into the maze before he can follow.

For once, he doesn't even try.

Instead, Klaus finds himself suddenly weary of the spectacle of the circus and makes for the gates, shoving past the visitors, intent on putting as much distance between himself and the woman who had so thoroughly broken his heart as possible.

He barely notices the motocar's passage, and when the Mikaelsons' London townhome comes into view, Klaus realizes that the distance has done nothing at all for his anger, the sharp pain of Caroline's tears and words branded on his skin. He stalks into the house, practically feral, every word of his (now former, he supposes) lover's replaying in his head.

"Nik?"

It's a bad time for his sister to intrude, but Rebekah never did have much sense.

"Leave me alone!" Klaus snarls, making straight for the parlour where he knows the liquor stock will help him cope, for at least tonight.

"Did something happen at the circus?" Rebekah asks, nose turning up. "I don't know why you still go there so often, even Mother never bothered visiting as much as you do."

"Do you forget that she left the care of it to us?" Klaus asks, rolling his eyes at his sister's snobbery. Rebekah had long since given up any interest in the venture, considering it a figment of her childhood that had to be put away in favour of paying calls on fellow ladies and attending balls to dance with a myriad of eligible suitors.

Elijah and Finn, ever the diligent sons, oversaw most of what needed to be done, and even then, their involvement was minimal. Their mother had handpicked every piece of the circus herself; put the parts together until the whole picture was complete.

Pouring himself a generous amount of scotch, Klaus ignored his sister's prattling, his mind turning one thought over in his head. Esther had handpicked the pieces of her circus…which meant she had picked Caroline herself.

"Go to bed, Rebekah," Klaus says by way of dismissal, and his sister simply scoffs as she makes her way towards her room. When she was gone, and after he could be sure the rest of the household was silent, Klaus finds himself in the library, fingers running over the worn spines of his mother's books that have been long since left to neglect.

The tome he finally chooses is black as night and leather bound, an old rune etched onto the front. As long as he has lived, Klaus has believed in magic as an abstract concept that has danced on the edges of his life, dancing just out of reach, never causing much need for interest. But now, as he opens the book, he can feel the hum on an energy he has only ever felt when listening to Caroline's songs, and as he flips through the heavy pages, that energy only grows.

The book is filled with names. Names of people he has grown up knowing, of people who brought Esther Mikaelson's greatest vision to life.

And then, he finds what he knew he would.

Right on the last page, signed in ink as red as blood, is Caroline Forbes.

"Tonight's performances have been canceled."

The small sign hanging outside Caroline's performance tent offers no further explanation, and Klaus grits his teeth at the hindrance. This is not what he needs. Right now, he only wants answers.

"She won't leave her bed."

Klaus turns at the voice and finds the slight figure of Bonnie, the fortune teller, standing behind him. She stares at him with dark, all-knowing eyes and he finds himself shifting uncomfortably under her gaze.

"What do you mean?" Klaus asks, doing his best to feign nonchalance. He never did know how much of their relationship Caroline had divulged to the other performers, but judging by the unimpressed glare Bonnie gives him, he's inclined to believe that Caroline had shared the whole truth with her.

"Caroline has taken to her private tent, and refuses to come out. Alaric allowed her the night to rest. No one will disturb you."

"You know why I'm here?" Klaus asks, hesitant to hear her answer.

Bonnie smiles to herself and doesn't answer, but Klaus knows in his bones that the fortune teller can probably tell him a great many things. For a moment, he considers asking her what happens next, but he can't bring himself to have the shred of hope he has left to be destroyed.

Bonnie strolls away and Klaus walks the familiar path to the private tents, picking his way to the one he has known the best. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he pushes the flap aside and steps in, finding himself immediately comforted by the warm glow of the lamp, the books piled up on the floor and the figure of the woman on the bed.

Caroline sits up, rubbing her eyes as though she can't possibly believe he's there, clarity slowly dawning.

"Klaus, why are you here?"

He wants to cringe at how small her voice is, he can clearly see her red eyes and knows she has been crying for some time now. It breaks something inside him to see her like this; it is not a state he'd ever thought he'd be the cause of.

"I want answers, Caroline."

The singer sighs, drawing a hand through her limp curls. "Klaus, I told you yesterday I can't leave, please just believe me and move on."

"I will do no such thing," Klaus growls, and reaches into his coat for the book he's carried with him all this way. "I came for an explanation for this."

Flipping the book to the last page, he tosses it on Caroline's bed, her name stark on the page, the red ink catching the light. Caroline's face pales at the sight and she all but scrambles off the bed as if to get as far away from the book as possible.

"Where did you get that?" she asks, her voice no louder than a whisper.

"My mother's records," Klaus answers grimly. "Caroline, what is this?"

"My contract."

Klaus watched the fear in her eyes and stepped closer, but she remained rigid, where days earlier she might have come into his arms. The urge to pull her closer now is almost unbearable. "Caroline, my mother is long dead, I'm sure you could leave if you wanted." Already she's shaking her head in protest but Klaus allows himself to plead with her one more time. "Sweetheart, think of the future we could have!"

"Klaus. I can't leave the circus."

He's beginning to see the tendrils of truth as he realizes her words are far more literal than he had thought. "Caroline don't be absurd, you've left the grounds dozens of times, you've traveled the world! All I'm asking is that you do it with me."

The raw emotion in his voice is enough to consume her, and Klaus is not an open man, Caroline knows this. If her refusal causes him to turn callous and hard then she will never forgive herself. "I've left for hours," Caroline explains, voice pained. "For as long as I'm allowed. I've traveled the world with the circus, and I may leave but only under the condition that I always return."

She meets his gaze, and the firm resolve shakes Klaus, as he properly listens to what she's saying. "Caroline-what is this?"

"Magic," she whispers sadly. "We all have magic. But we didn't always."

There's nothing he can say, sensing that she is preparing the answers he's sought for so long. After a moment, she steels herself and holds out her left palm to him. There's nothing in it, but his eyes are drawn to the thin scar that stretches across it. He'd asked her about it once, but she'd merely said it was an old forgotten injury, nothing more.

As it turns out, she had been lying.

"It was so long ago now," she began, sounding small and far away. "My mother was sick. My father had died, we didn't have much. I was so desperate," Caroline chokes on a sob, and Klaus can't stay back now, coming forward to draw her close. After a moment, she continued.

"One day, Esther came to our house. I'd never seen her before but she knew who I was, and she asked me to sing for her. I never knew why she asked, I'd never sung in public, but she wanted to hear my voice and promised that she had a way to save my mother."

Klaus shut his eyes, cursing his mother, who had always had a singular talent for finding people to take advantage of. "She asked you to join the circus?"

Caroline nodded against his chest. "For my mother's health, she asked me to join. I never thought I'd be so lucky. I didn't realize at the time just how much I would have to give up."

Pulling away from Klaus, Caroline picks up the book which is still open to her name and traces the loops of her signature. "I didn't know a thing about magic. I didn't realize just how strong the binding would be."

The truth dawns on Klaus like a slow moving horror, as he looks between the name on the page in ink as red as blood and the long-healed scar on Caroline's hand.

"She took out her dagger and slit my palm," Caroline says softly, lost in a memory. "I signed my name in blood. My mother lived and for that, I have to pay the price."

Klaus balks, takes in her words as they stand in silence. Caroline does nothing but stare at the scar on her hand and in the candlelight Klaus has always thought her to be at her most beautiful. She still is - nothing will change that- but in this moment he can see how tired she is, resigned to her fate.

Still he hopes, fleetingly, foolishly. "There has to be a way," he whispers.

Caroline shakes her head, closing the book on her bed and handing it back to him, careful not to step too close. "Nothing can be done."

"Sweetheart, if it's your mother's health you're worried about-"

"It's not." Caroline reaches up to brush away a stray tear, ducking her head. "She died a few years ago. Esther's magic saved her when she was ill, but eventually she succumbed to age, and fatigue. I bought her time and comfort. It's enough for me."

"Enough for the rest of your life?" Klaus asks, appalled. He knows his mother had been a treacherous, conniving woman, but he never realized just how skilled she was at preying on desperate souls.

"It has to be," Caroline says, sniffing once and wiping any trace of tears away. When she faces him again, it's with a determined tilt to her chin and resolve in her eyes. "I may have lost my freedom but I gained a family, magic, and…I had you. For however brief a time."

Klaus can actually see the moment she detaches herself from her sentiment, building a wall that he assumes she thinks will protect her. "Caroline, you could still have me."

"This is too painful, Klaus. Please, just… leave me alone."

It's an order, a rather forcefully delivered one, but Klaus can see the effort it takes to stand tall and dismiss him, and despite the fact that he wants to hold her close until she sees the situation from his point of view, he knows that anything he says or does will just upset her further. Ignoring every instinct, he leaves, stumbling through the maze of tents. The book of names is still in his arms, and irrationally, Klaus clutches it close, needing the contact with something that Caroline has touched with her own hands.

If he didn't think of something, then the faintest trace of the woman he loved would be the only thing he would have to carry with him for the rest of his life.

It takes a week to think of a plan.

Days slip into nights and Klaus doesn't bother leaving the townhouse, preferring instead to stalk the halls, pacing with a frenetic energy that admits only a hint of the mess his thoughts are. All he can see in his mind's eye is blonde hair and smooth skin and the memories of every moment he has ever spent with Caroline play on a continuous loop, as if he knows he has to commit them to memory before they fade away and she becomes nothing more than a distant dream.

He cannot bring himself to go back to the circus and watch her sing. Even though she has made it clear that whatever was between them has come to an end, there is technically nothing anyone can do to stop a Mikaelson from coming and going as they please. But after knowing her intimately, it would just be painful to have to resign himself to be just another member of her audience.

So, he stays away from the circus, but his thoughts never wander far from her.

And one day, as another night begins, he comes to a decision. A radical one, but a decision none the less. Unfortunately, it's a decision which will require some help.

"And how can I help my favourite older brother today?"

Kol is glib and careless but never one to turn down the offer of a drink, but even Klaus has to raise an eyebrow at the rare sentiment. Granted, between Elijah and Finn, he supposes that he is preferable.

"I need a favour."

For one fleeting second Kol appears surprised, but masks it quickly. It's true that in their lives Klaus has rarely asked his little brother for anything - there's little his flippant nature can provide, save for a good party once in a while. But now he needs something far more serious, and while it pains him to admit, Kol is the only one who can help.

"By all means Nik, what can I do for you?" There's the underlying hint of glee that speaks to Kol's hope that he'll be able to extract something from his brother over this. Perhaps he'll get Elijah off his back with his constant nagging to be more productive in the family.

"I need your magic."

Now Kol really hadn't expected that. To be honest, the plan in Klaus's mind hadn't seemed real until he'd said the words aloud, and now they hung in the air, thick and ominous. His brother straightened, watching him with narrowed eyes, absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb and his forefinger together. Klaus felt it then, the hum of magic he'd often ignored when around the circus, more obvious here in their quiet house.

Since Esther's passing, the house hadn't known magic very often. When it did, it was at the hands of the only child who had inherited his mother's gifts. Elijah would say it was a pity that reckless, irresponsible Kol had been gifted, but as Klaus remembered the defeat in Caroline's eyes, he silently thought it a blessing that neither of his more conniving brothers were born with powers to make them more dangerous than they already were.

"You need my magic?" Kol asked lowly, not believing his ears.

"I do," Klaus affirmed. "I need you to recreate one of mother's spells."

Caroline ends her show, a smile on her face that does not truly reach her eyes, not that anyone in her audience notices. They are more than happy to indulge in their own fantasies, and as the tent empties, Caroline lets the facade fall, feels the weariness set in. She can hear the rustle of canvas as the tent flap opens and her heart stops as she turns to face-

Bonnie. Her friend. But then, who did she expect?

The fortune teller smiles, all-knowing. "You're still sad?" she asks, though she already knows the answer.

Caroline sighs, relieved that she doesn't have to keep up any pretense, not that the entire circus doesn't already know how morose she was these days. Bonnie opens her arms, pulling her friend in for a hug which Caroline enters into gratefully, soaking up her friend's comfort.

"I think I'll be sad for a while," she said quietly, pulling back and wiping an errant tear from the corner of her eye.

Bonnie regards her carefully. "You've been spending a lot of time in your private tent."

Caroline winces, slightly guilty. She'd been pushing away her friends in her grief, and she misses them. "Have you closed your tent for the night? We could watch Kat and Elena perform their last show, see if Enzo wants to come?"

Bonnie smiles, one of those little grins that means she knows something you don't and it was frustrating but she was never one to dangle the future over others' heads. "You've been so secluded you missed the news. We have a new member."

Caroline's eyes widen, there hasn't been an addition to the circus since her. "What's the act?" she asks, shocked.

"An artist," Bonnie replies vaguely. "He's quite skilled."

There was something her friend wasn't telling her, but Caroline had no way of knowing what. "Bonnie, what's going on?"

Gently, the fortune teller took the singer's arm, steering her to the tent's entrance. "He's under the oak, you should visit him. Give him a proper welcome."

Puzzled by her friend's odd behaviour, Caroline made her way through the tents. She passed Enzo's stand and he winks at her, wishing her luck, but Caroline can't guess why. There was a buzz in the air as she neared the massive oak that stood on the edge of the tents, a spot that was normally secluded, but the new attraction had drawn a small crowd. She could hear one of the audience members crying rather loudly, though not in distress.

"It's my Papa, before he passed away," the woman was saying, admiring a canvas in her hands. "But how could you know his likeness so well? Surely you never met?"

"Not once, love," the artist replied smoothly, sitting at a large easel. "It's simply a gift."

Caroline's heart stuttered to a halt. She knew that voice. She knew the artist. The crowd clamoured to be chosen next, but the artist made his apologies as he was finished for the night. Disappointed, they dispersed throughout the winding paths and Caroline was the only one who remained.

She stood in silence while he busied himself with his supplies, but eventually she found it in herself to move forward until she stood over him. "Klaus…what are you doing here?"

Klaus stood, reaching for her hands to pull her close. "Shall I paint you something, sweetheart? A wish, a dream? You'll find I'm quite good."

Caroline still can't believe what she is seeing and a deep ball of fear starts to form in the pit of her stomach. "Klaus, what did you do?" she asks, slightly hysterical.

He sighs and bends down to his supply bag, pulling out a familiar black book. Thumbing through the pages of names, he stops at the last page, and allows Caroline to read the two names.

Caroline Forbes.

Niklaus Mikaelson.

"No," she moans quietly, tears forming in her eyes. "No no no, you cannot be trapped here too!" she cries, and Klaus drops the book, encircling her in his arms and pulling her close.

"I made my choice, Caroline," he says firmly. "My brother has magic and I asked him to start investigating whether breaking the blood bonds would be possible."

"How could it be?" asked Caroline.

"Well, if the spirit of my dearly departed mother saw fit to let us know, we could find a way," Klaus explains, stroking her hair. "And until she does, she will have to watch one of her children be bound to this place. My mother loved the circus, but we were never to be a part of it. Even in the afterlife, I know how to force her hand."

It seemed beyond her comprehension, the way Klaus spoke of spirits and the afterlife as if it was nothing beyond the realm of reality for him. But then, she knew that there were many things in heaven and earth that were as real as the ground below her feet, and really, with her experiences, this should not be so surprising.

"You don't know if it will work," she says quietly.

Klaus only shrugs. "I don't. But whatever happens, I'll be by your side." He pulled back to look her in the eyes, brushing a thumb over the apple of her cheek. "Surely you won't cast me from your side now?"

Caroline's response was to let out a choked sob and reach up to cup his face, bringing his lips down to hers and meeting him in a kiss, relishing in the taste of him after believing that she had lost him forever. He responded in kind, his relief and feelings palpable as he held her tight, deepening the kiss and giving no quarter, pulling away only when her full lips were swollen and her skin flushed. He admired the way her chest heaved and he desperately wanted to toy with the strings of her corset before ripping it off her but the threat of a guest finding them was too great, and Klaus was adamant that he not share Caroline with anyone for a day at least.

"My tent," she whispers, reading his thoughts.

Honestly, Klaus had never loved a place more. Much later, skin slick and bodies sated, they fall boneless into the softness of Caroline's bed, hands still wandering, seeking, reassuring. They are both here, and one way or another, they will have each other every day as long as they wish. Should Kol succeed, they would see the world. If he failed, then they had an eternity of each other, and the circus, and Klaus knew it would be an easy curse to bear if it meant he was bound to her.

It was easy enough to get used to the talents the circus gave him. But Klaus will always be of the mind that Caroline's body lit by candlelight and curled into his side is magic enough for him.

The circus arrives without warning. There are many wonders to delight and amaze, amongst them, the singer and the artist. If they are very lucky, those who know the story may catch the private smiles the couple share as they stroll through the tents, forever by each other's side.

Their talents are pure magic. Their love is something else entirely.

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