Wiltshire, England, 1460

Their father, the Duke of Somerset, is no more. They learn of his passing when Sir John Beaufort, atop his horse, comes galloping onto the grounds. Red face stricken with terror, sprinkles of white snow against his clothes and disheveled dark brown hair, Niklaus knows what has occurred before Sir John gathers his breath to speak.

Ambushed by King Richard's forces. Or rather, the Queen's. All of England knows that the dimwitted king is controlled by his wife. And his wife, the distasteful daughter from the Duke of Lorraine, is intent on suppressing any challenger who may be a threat to her son. So, their father, who had a direct claim to the throne and a sharp mind – unlike the king- was butchered.

While he's never harbored the most amicable feelings toward his father- Mikael was too fond of whoring and could never hide his preference for Elijah – Niklaus sees red at the thought of the Queen celebrating their downfall.

Head placed on a spike, adorned by a paper crown. They wished to humiliate him even in death and to discourage others from laying a challenge.

Niklaus has never been one to bow and do what he's told, much to his mother's and tutors' consternation. Unlike Elijah, the proud and proper heir, he enjoys doing the exact opposite of what is expected. So, there is only one decision in his mind, only one course of action.

Elijah, now the Duke of Somerset and ever the pacifist, disagrees with him.

"We shall go to war and become rebels to what purpose? Spill more blood and cause more grief to our mother who lays in bed mourning the death of her husband? That is not the answer, brother."

Klaus releases a dry laughter. Even after a direct hit to their family, Elijah continues to believe in diplomacy.

"The Queen ordered the attack because she knew father was to succeed the king over her son. She means to get rid of anyone who threatens his place on the throne. What do you imagine she will do to us?"

"They wouldn't dare."

"Dare? Father had his head placed on a pike for all to see. What stops them from taking our lands and titles or throwing us in prison? We have a great claim to the throne and people whisper. They wonder if the boy is to be as incompetent as his father."

"If we go to war against the crown-" Elijah starts but dares not to voice the words They know the faith of those who rebel.

"We will not lose and you shall become king, brother," Niklaus says with such certainty that for a second he sounds like a seasoned warrior and not the young man of sixteen who is plotting against the crown.

"I have no wish to become the king, brother. I could barely stand court as it was. If we do this, you must be the king and sit on the throne as father's heir," Elijah tells him, keeping a firm hand on Klaus' shoulder.

"Elijah, you are the Duke of Somerset and father's heir. The Lords will not answer the call to arms to put a second son on the throne," he argues. The thought of being king does not displease him as it does Elijah, and he would certainly be a better ruler than Richard, the lunatic. However, he is a realist and sees the trouble with Elijah's plan.

"The Queen is a foreigner with a distaste for England, the King is a man who barely possesses half of his wit. I believe the Lords will be far more agreeable than you may believe, Niklaus."

He chuckles into his glass of ale, feeling surprised that he can still keep his good humor in this situation.

"I will speak to our cousin, and I am certain that he will support us in this. Will be the one to spearhead our cause, brother? And sit on the throne if all goes well?"

"Aye, I will, brother. Let's topple the King and avenge father."

St. Albans, England, 1462

As it turns out, the Lords are more than pleased to rally behind the sons of the Duke of Somerset. There is some outcry over the fact that the rightful heir is not to take the throne, but it is quickly snuffed out as they see Niklaus' prowess on the battlefield.

His physiology of both vampire and werewolf, an anomaly in the family, allows him to be faster and sharper than those around him. Mr. Darby has always praised his ability with a sword – the ax is a favorite of his, though – and it seems that his tutoring has been effective.

Even though all brothers are green in battle, they experience nothing but success against their enemy's armies. Elijah has a keen mind for strategy; Kol harbors a fury within him like no other, which makes him even more vicious, and Finn surprises them all. His brother, usually so quiet, turns into a senseless beast when confronting their foes.

And confront their foes, they do. In so many different battles and places that it all starts to blend together. The fields are the same- ever so green in the beginning and then stained with a dull shade of red after they leave. The queen's soldiers look the same as well. All clad in chainmail, weary faces and flanked by the lords who still fight for Richard.

This battle is different, somehow. Perhaps it is because they are so close to London, so close to getting rid of Richard and his detestable queen.

For the first time, Klaus is wounded in battle as he leads his division to attack the Earl of Ormond's men. A well-placed blow by a sharp arrow. He barely feels it at first; his blood still running hot after another victory.

They are in the camp, huddled around the fire as the rest of the men get drunk on ale and trade stories of home when Klaus collapses onto the cold ground.

St. Albans, England, 1462

"Are you feeling better, your Grace?"

Klaus awakens to a soft tone; the shock of hearing such a feminine voice causes his eyes to fly open. After months of war to no end, he has grown used to having nothing but men around him. Some of the soldiers favored brothels, looking for some company to satisfy their blood lust. Klaus, however, decided not to take any whores for himself in time of battle.

The woman in front of him looks like no whore from the brothel. Green eyes and bronzed skin, she is different from any girl he has ever seen in Wiltshire or London when he visited court. Usually, those girls are as pale as the full moon and wear their hair done in an elaborate fashion. This one is donned in a modest blue dress, dark hair pushed to the side in a braid.

"Where-" he asks, moving to sit up, only to be stopped by a dull pain irradiating from his abdomen.

"Shh, you must try not to move," she says while rushing to his bedside, and blushes the most captivating shade of pink. "You were injured and need your rest to fully recover, your Grace."

"The arrow," he murmurs; the memory of the sharp pain and the blood seeping through his chainmail comes to the forefront of his mind.

"It pierced through the skin and you lost blood."

Klaus looks down to see the white bandage neatly wrapped around his middle. It is obvious the work of someone who knows what they're doing. He frowns. Why is a strange woman attending to him instead of Master Cramner, his trusted physician?

"Master Cramner was very concerned with your wound and requested my assistance, seeing as I am.." she trails off; looking down at her hands with clear hesitation.

"Are you what? A little spy placed in my ranks by the queen?" Klaus wonders as he openly studies her.

She is pretty, just as pretty as the pink flowers that bloom in the spring back in Wiltshire, and has a kind smile. Too young and gentle to be a spy, he supposes.

"No, your Grace. I do not believe I have the nerve to be a spy," she answers, and he notices the slight tremble to her hands. "I am a witch. Master Cramner could not help you by himself, and he asked for my help. I- I healed you, your Grace."

Klaus cocks his head to the side in curiosity. A witch? He has never seen a witch in his years at Wiltshire. Klaus heard plenty of tales about them- a powerful lot who became too greedy with time, his tutors used to say. Some of his books say witches are malefic creatures, and yet Klaus cannot see any evil within her.

"You are a witch? How?"

"I do not know how to explain, your Grace. I was born a witch."

In that moment, Klaus feels like a stupid boy who asked a stupid question, and not the man who is close to becoming the next king of England. He blames his silly question on distraction. He's gotten distracted by the green of her eyes. Surely a witch could not be this beautiful?

"Are you displeased that a witch has treated you?"

"You healed me when Master Cramner could not, did you not?" he questions; confused by her behavior. Most physicians would puff out their chests in pride for saving a nobleman; anxious to bask in royal favor. She almost seems afraid of him.

"Most lords do not appreciate having a witch this close to them. They fear I may place a curse on them."

He chuckles despite the dull pain on his body.

"A tiny thing such as yourself?"

"Even the smallest of witches can wield a tremendous amount of power, your Grace," she says, sounding a little indignant, much like a child who was crossed.

"Well, did you?

"Did I what?"

"Place a curse on me? Am I to turn into a toad by sunrise? Or perhaps into a dog? I have always felt some affinity to the greyhounds in the kennel back home," he quips, strangely pleased when she laughs.

"I may be young, but I am not so foolish as to place a curse on the king," she assures him while averting his gaze.

It is a usual occurrence; most people seem to be intimidated by his presence. To be quite honest, he has grown to enjoy that, as it makes him feel like a powerful man and not only the second son of the Duke of Somerset. Yet, he finds himself frowning as she does it.

Klaus pushes himself into a sitting position; his face a few inches from hers. So steady before, her heartbeat changes pace and becomes erratic. The sound of the blood rushing through her body is as enchanting as the lute the musicians play.

"Are you certain you haven't put a spell on me?"

"I am quite certain that I only conjured a healing spell, your Grace. Why do you ask? Do you feel unwell?" she asks, moving to place a warm hand on his forehead.

"Why do I feel like I cannot think?" he questions, feeling shivers going down his spine.

"The tip of the arrow was soaked with poison, you may be feeling its effects, still. It shall pass, your Grace,"

It makes sense, but he knows it is more than that. Klaus feels like he is losing part of his wits, of his control. Perhaps the full moon is close to gracing the sky, and that is to blame for the strange spirits he finds himself in.

"I-" Klaus begins to say, but closes his mouth as the words do not come to him. His head is only filled with confusion as he attempts to understand why this girl affects him so.

"Your Grace should continue to rest. I am certain that all of your men are anxious to see you in good health."

"The lords are anxious to know their efforts have not been wasted. I cannot die before the crown is placed upon my head, and even then I may not die. Not without an heir," Klaus comments with a humorless laugh. Two years into this war, he is wise enough to know the Lords are mostly worried about their own heads. They will not allow him to fail.

"You will not die. Not from this, at least."

"Such comforting words to a man who will ride into battle soon. I do not believe you make a very fine nurse, as you set out to break my poor heart," he places a hand on his bare chest; the fake grimace of pain dissolving into a grin. She lets out a hearty chuckle that fills the silence of his tent.

"I am not a nurse, your Grace, and I am sure that a broken heart is not going to wound you. All of the lords praise your strength, as you are both vampire and werewolf."

"Do you wish for my victory?" Klaus wonders; the thought of her cheering for the enemy eating at him. She's healed him and showing concern, but he knows people can turn their coats as easily as they breathe.

"I wish for peace, for England to be a better place. I do not have an affinity for either blue or red; both vampires and werewolves hate my kind," she answers with a quiet voice, looking at anywhere but him.

Klaus wants to argue, but he cannot. After all, did he not grow up to stories of bad and cursed witches?

"I do not believe you to be a bad person, your Grace. You are fighting for what you think is right. Here," she says and presses an item onto his open hand. "This shall help to keep you safe on the battlefield. Have this with you at all times."

Klaus studies the amulet. A small vial with some clear stones inside. One wouldn't spare a second thought about this, but Klaus can just sense its power.

"Why would you do this for me if you do not hold an affinity for either side?"

"I did not know I would become fond of the red king. I do not wish for you to die in battle, your Grace. It is a simple protection spell, to ward off those who wish you harm."

Warmth spreads through him in a way he has not experienced in years. Not since he was a child and tamed his prized stallion much to the surprise of their father, not since they all looked at him as if he was as good as Elijah. This time, the sensation has nothing to do with his ego, as it is only caused by the beautiful girl who nursed him back to health.

"I must go. I will pray for you to be victorious, your Grace," Bonnie whispers with a hesitant smile and moves to leave, but he takes her hand to stop her.

"You have to tell me your name, my lady. I must see you again," Klaus requests, feeling blinded by a sense of desperation. He cannot ride into battle without knowing her name, without tasting it on his lips.

"Bonnie Bennett," Bonnie answers with a small curtsey as she pushes a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

"I shall summon you to court when I am king, Lady Bennett. I am forever indebted to you."

"There is no debt, your Grace. Just keep your amulet close to you."

When Niklaus sleeps that night, he knows he should dream of the glory to be found in battle, of the crown to be placed on his head, of his sweet revenge. He can only dream of Bonnie Bennett and her green eyes.

A/N: So, something is wrong with me because I have two stories to finish and I should not be posting another one, but this idea would not leave me until I started writing it. I've fallen into a War of the Roses/ Tudors rabbit hole, and then I had to put my Klonnie spin because they are my babies. Basically, history inspired me, but this will not follow accurately follow history, I've kinda taken everything I love and put it together. Let me know what you think!