Title: I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)
Category: The Vampire Diaries
Genre: Romance/Angst/Drama
Ship: Caroline/Elijah
Chapter Rating: PG-13/Teen
Overall Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Word Count: 6,069
Summary: [AU, set in 1492] Elijah has spent five centuries at Niklaus' side, doing everything in his power to help his brother find the doppelganger. But when his chance to find happiness is found dancing in the forest, he has to decide whether love or loyalty will be his companion for eternity.

I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)
-Novel-

I.

1492

He stumbled upon hope in the middle of a clearing. The early morning sun was still climbing the sky, filling each and every dark corner with its light. Dew dripped from leaves and collected on the long, green grass she danced barefoot in, the blue cloth of her dress swishing around her legs. She twisted and spun circles, her arms stretched above her head, reaching for some unseen force high above her, a stunning smile pulling at her lips.

She was lovely.

Pale, porcelain skin with pink stained cheeks and bright blue eyes. Long, blonde hair, falling in gentle waves down her back, curling at the ends. And she glowed. She positively glowed with vitality and innocence and untouched purity.

Elijah watched her with unadulterated want. He wanted the freedom she had as she danced, the purity she still possessed, the blissful ignorance of not knowing how dark and treacherous the world truly was. Here, in the woods, this unnamed beauty was untouchable; she was the personification of all that he had lost and wanted dearly to have again. He wanted to preserve her, to keep her just as she was, happy and unaware, beautiful and bright.

She glowed against the darkness he felt growing inside him, insidious and terrible, a curse that made him drink the foul blood of people he hardly knew, people who cringed in terror, whimpered for their lives, and begged him to have mercy.

Was she mercy? Was she kindness? Was she all that they wanted to see in him but never found?

He had been that way once, had he not? He had been the good brother. The kind, just Mikaelson, calm and careful where Niklaus was quick to anger and violence. Elijah was not that man anymore, not completely. The draw of blood, the necessity of power, had played its song and he had listened. It swelled to a crescendo, leaving him a mere puppet, dancing on its strings, helpless to its clawing desperation.

A part of him even now, seeing her as she was, wanted nothing less than to sink his teeth into her throat, taste the ambrosia of her blood as it fled down her skin, wetting her dress, making the fabric cling to her, soaked, hugging the swell of her breast as his hand rose from her tiny waist to cup it, mold it to his palm. With blood there was a carnal draw, a desire that pulsed perversely beneath. Often, he would sate his tongue on one neck and seek out a willing woman to help him fill the other need; here, he thought he could find both in one person.

He shook his head, however, forcing away the haze of bloodlust. She was too perfect, too right, for him to soil. He would keep her as she was, intact, and hope that she remained so.

He watched a moment longer as her dancing came to an end and she returned to pick up her basket and tuck her feet into her slippers. She returned to what she had been doing, scavenging for food, likely for a family that loved her dearly. He wondered briefly if she had a husband, a child that tugged at her dress, but a pang in his chest told him not to think on it long.

He tracked her with his eyes until she was so far away only his ears could pick up on her padding footsteps and calm heartbeat, and then he fled, returning to his brother and his so far fruitless attempts at finding the doppelgänger. Despite the company of Niklaus, Elijah felt loneliness, deeper and rawer than ever before.

...

Elijah did not return for seven long days. Instead he busied himself working alongside his brother, who was becoming increasingly violent with every sighting that came up false. Niklaus was obsessed; he wanted the doppelgänger and he was certain she was within reach. Elijah tired of the chase; he was tired of looking for Tatia's face in every person he met, waiting to see her reflection in a woman bound to die at the hands of his brother. He took refuge in his memory of the golden haired beauty, her name unknown to him, but her smile etched into his mind.

He made his way back to the same clearing, hoping she might be there, that perhaps she danced there every morning. But he stood in that same spot as the sun rose higher and higher, and never did her bare feet touch the moist ground like they had that day. She was nowhere to be seen. He stepped out from the trees and made his way to the center, where her pale pink toes had pressed into the dirt and grass as she twirled and twirled without a care. He turned his head back and let the sun wash over his face, warm and invading every crevice of his skin.

He turned his heel to the right ever so slightly and followed it with his toes. One foot and then the other, and very slowly, stilted in his movements, Elijah made a circle, his dark hair rustling as air moved around him, quicker and quicker now. His closed his eyes, intent on the feeling of having no control, of simply moving and feeling. Was this what she felt? Was this why she laughed?

And then—a giggle.

He stopped suddenly, feeling immeasurably silly, and his head turned, searched for the culprit that had witnessed his senseless act of childish behavior.

It was her. She was smiling at him brightly, her head tipped, long blonde hair sifting over her shoulder. "Please, do not let me stop you," she said, amusement clear in her voice. "You are very nimble on your toes, sir."

He swallowed tightly, eyes darting away. "I… I was…" For the first time in his life, Elijah felt his carefully cultivated demeanor fail him. He could not find anything clever or formal to say as he had just been caught, quite obviously, dancing in a clearing.

She stepped forward, pausing only once to slip her feet from her slippers, and reached down to grab up the skirt of her dress as she moved closer. "Have I caught you in a moment, sir?" she wondered, looking up at him from beneath the fan of her dark eyelashes. "Have I embarrassed you?"

"Slightly, yes," he admitted. And, were it possible, he thought he might actually blush.

She bit her lip. "I apologize. My mother tells me I have a tendency to do and say the wrong things at the worst times." Her forehead wrinkled. "I was not aware anyone knew of this place…" She nodded her chin to suggest the clearing.

"You thought this space to be your own?" he wondered, staring down into her eyes. "I had not seen the flag of ownership planted in the earth."

She flashed a grin. "Perhaps I was in the process of making one when you found it…" She raised an eyebrow. "Would you not take a lady's word then?"

"Perhaps…" he said, lips twitching with amusement. "Sadly I cannot vouch for her honor as I know nothing about her except that she prefers to be slipperless in the woods."

She glanced down at her feet, drawing her dress up a little to wiggle her toes. "The better for dancing," she told him. "Though I noticed you did not seem hindered by your boots."

He laughed under his breath, brows hiking slightly. "Tragic as it may be, I am unfortunately new to the art of forest dancing."

"Then you have found the perfect teacher," she offered, raising her chin. "But, there is a price, I must admit."

Seeing her angle, he pursed his lips to keep from smiling. "And would it happen to be ownership of this small piece of land, miss?" He waved a hand around him.

"It would," she told him, nodding, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "As you may well be the only other person who has found it and you question my honor in having done so previous, I must ask that you accept my ownership in trade for dancing lessons." She held a hand out for him to shake. "Do we have an agreement, sir?"

"It seems a mighty large boon on your side… How am I to know that your dancing lessons are of the same value?"

She tipped her head and queried, "Do you quite enjoy questioning my worth?"

He frowned and shook his head quickly. "No. I apologize if that is how—"

Her laughter cut him off. "I offer this then… For my land I will give you dancing lessons and with it, something of even more value."

He quirked his head curiously.

Her eyes widened, brows hiked high. "Fun," she told him, emphasizing it as though it were a foreign word to him.

Given how he repeated it with clear confusion, he thought he may have proven her assertion right.

She poked him in the chest. "You, sir, are in need of it." Her hand wiggled in front of him to encourage him to reach for it. "Miss Caroline Forbes, to encourage you to have fun and dance freely and barefoot, at your service."

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he felt a smile struggle its way forward. "Elijah," he returned, taking her hand in his. He left the 'Lord' part absent, as he was well aware that to bring social status into this would have her changing her approach immediately. It mattered little that it was just the two of them there in the clearing, with no witness to remind her of propriety. She would have to address and act much differently with him if she recognized his title. He did not want that; he rather liked how guileless she was with him.

Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate, and he felt the thrum of life pulsing just beneath, a little unsteady, quick, as if she was not so calm and put together as she showed. Perhaps he was not the only one affected by the other's presence; he hoped it to be true even as he ignored just how strange the situation they had found themselves in.

He was supposed to be helping his brother find the doppelgänger; he was a vampire, a monster, who feasted on the blood of young, beautiful women just like her. But here she stood, enchanting, alive, and brimming with sweetness.

"How willing are you to take your shoes off, Mister Elijah?" she asked, tilting her chin forward, her eyes narrowed as if she were asking him something of deep import.

Amused, he wondered, "Would that be my first lesson, Miss Caroline?"

She shrugged her shoulders, drawing his eyes to where her blue frock covered her skin modestly, though a gold locket hung around her neck, falling to the swell of her chest. She reached up to play with it absently, twisting the chain around her fingers. "I care not if you wear shoes, but I guarantee it to be better without."

"You dance here often?" he queried.

"It is my favorite part of the day," she told him, turning on her heel and stretching her foot out, hopping across the grass toward where a small bundle of daisies grew. She reached down and plucked one out, twisting it around before she spun to face him again. "What is yours, pray tell?"

"My favorite part of the day…?" His brows furrowed as he gave it due consideration. Truth be told, he did not have a favorite part. The days all seemed to drag together, molding into an eternity of searching for someone he cared not to find. It was not until the day he had seen Caroline, until he began wondering if she was in the clearing, dancing, that he had felt himself come alive again. "I do not have one," he told her.

"Then we will change that," she assured, crossing the grass back to him and holding the daisy up as if it were a gift. "Good sir," she said dramatically, bowing her head. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

"I fear I would not do you justice." He shook his head discouragingly. "My way of dancing is… more conventional."

"Then I will teach you to dance my way and you will teach me to dance yours." She reached for his hand and gave him a tug. If he was not a vampire, he imagined he would have tripped over his feet at the jarring movement. She drew him to the center of the clearing and turned to look up at him, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It is quite easy," she assured. "There are no rules."

"None?"

She raised her hands up, stretching her fingers as though they were reaching for the clouds or the sun or the stars that hid from the day. "You forget everything, you see… Responsibility, family, every stress that plagues you… And you simply move." She twirled away from him, closing her eyes as she spun and spun and laughed.

His brow wrinkled. "Without music?"

"Can you not hear your own in your head?" she wondered, smiling. "If not, I can sing." She opened her eyes. "Would you like that, Mister Elijah? For me to sing to you?" She was panting a little, her cheeks flushed, and her hair fell across her face.

He feared he would like that very much. In fact, he thought he would like her very much; too much, if he allowed himself. "And would you?" He stared at her searchingly, his head tipped. "Sing and dance for me and only me?"

"In this clearing, there is only us," she told him simply. "And since we are both strangers in a…" Her eyes lit up with amusement, "strange land… Then why not ignore social confines and do what we wish?" She walked to him and reached for his hands once more, raising them slowly, their fingertips touching. "Will you let go?" she asked him, her voice soft. "Will you let it all go and dance with me?"

She was shorter than he and therefore could not reach as far, so her fingers slid down to his wrists as she kept his arms raised above.

He turned his chin down to look at her and thought that, if his heart could beat, it would hammer its way free of his chest and land at her feet. "I will not be very good," he warned.

She shook her head. "Neither was I when I first began."

"I find that quite hard to believe," he murmured.

"You have much to learn about me," she said, her tone taking on a teasing lilt as she raised her eyebrows and grinned at him.

"I am very willing to do so," he returned sincerely.

Her expression softened. "Close your eyes," she whispered.

He wasted only a second before his eyes fell shut and he waited. He could hear her heart, her breathing, even the swish of her dress at her ankles. She slid her hands down his arms and one hooked on his elbow. She gave it a tug until he turned in a half circle. "Keep going," she encouraged.

And so he spun. He spun and spun until he could not stop laughing, feeling ridiculous at first, but then free. Free of the pressures of his brother's search, of the demands on him and his time, an eternity of it, of his own fears and self-hatred. He spun until all he could feel was the cool, crisp air and the scent of Caroline filling his lungs; there was only the sun reaching his fingertips and the echo of his and her laughter mixing with the staccato of her heartbeat.

And when he stopped, he was dizzy at first, though he found his balance easily, and he smiled at her, larger and deeper than he thought he might ever have before.

"Your first lesson is complete," she told him, smiling back with the same sincerity.

"So soon?" His joy began to fade.

"Night is coming," she said, lifting her chin to the sky. "I usually come here earlier but I was waylaid by my mother." She turned her attention back to him and reached up to comb her fingers through her riotous hair, pulling it all over to hang down one shoulder. "I will return in the morning, just as the sun rises, if you would like to meet for your second lesson..."

"Yes." He nodded. "I would like that very much."

"Wonderful." She smiled before turning and making her way back to her slippers. "I enjoyed dancing with you, Elijah."

"And I you, Caroline."

She turned and fled into the woods, humming under her breath; he watched her go until he could no longer make out the shine of her golden hair.

He smiled the whole way back to the estate, his chest light and the anticipation of the morning making him feel more hope than he had in some time.

…

Elijah returned the next morning and the next and the next after that. For two weeks, his every morning, as the sun lit the sky, had him standing in the clearing, waiting for her. And every day she surprised him; with her insatiable curiosity, her complete disregard for socially accepted manners, and her endlessly excitable nature.

Only a few days after meeting him, she asked him, "Have you been to war then?" Reaching out, she touched the tips of her fingers to the hilt of his sword.

His eyes fell to watch her hand; he could not be felled by such a simple weapon, nor did he fear Caroline would try to do so, but it was not common than anyone so casually reached for his sword. It hung at his hip easily, comfortable, a reminder of who he was, who he had been raised to be; a warrior.

He nodded, watching as she circled him, brow furrowed as she stared at the blade thoughtfully. "I have," he answered. "War was… very common where I come from. It became man's answer to every question."

Her eyes flickered up to his. "It still is, is it not?"

His lips twitched, only partly in amusement, while another part could not help but recognize how very smart she was. "Men are bloodthirsty… Some more than others."

"And are you, Elijah?" She stepped up close to him, her head tipped, eyes narrowed. She demanded an answer, and not a polite one, but an honest one.

"If you are asking whether I have killed then yes, I have… Sometimes regretfully, other times proudly." He raised his chin; stubborn, graceful, unapologetic to be so sure.

"And those you regret… Would you change them?" she wondered.

His gaze dropped as he thought back on his many kills; some in the heat of battle, the blood spraying his face as he cleaved limb from body, head from shoulders, others from mere necessity to his brother's cause. He should regret their deaths, but his loyalty was not to them or their lingering ghosts; it was to Niklaus. He thought too of those who fell to his actual bloodlust, to the monster that simmered beneath the surface, always ready to strike, and he did regret that they had to die for him to survive. "It is a complicated issue, Caroline," he told her, instead of getting into the specifics of his very confusing history of death.

"I do not think it is…" She shook her head. "I think you know the answer, but you are uncertain if you should share it with me."

"You are very perceptive," he said, staring at her searchingly.

"Or perhaps I'm simply used to people underestimating how much I might understand." She turned on her heel and walked away, her bare feet peeking out from beneath her dress.

"And who underestimates you?"

She looked back at him, her lips pursed. "My mother and father, for certain… My father because he thinks I'm a silly girl, with notions of love that life will never grant me… My mother because she has expectations of whom I should be and I rarely meet them." She lifted her shoulders as if to say that she would not carry their doubts on her, and took a deep breath, offering him a smile that tried and failed to hide the hurt in her words. "And perhaps they are right, in some regard… I am silly." She shook her head. "And I will never meet my mother's standards… But I do not believe I'm meant to." Her brow furrowed. "I would rather believe and hope for love. I would rather be happy with who I am than be someone I'm not and hate myself for it."

"I think you are perfectly lovely," he told her, staring at her squarely. "And if you are silly, then it is something to aspire to."

She smiled brightly, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and let out a little giggle before she walked toward him. "Do you know what I think?"

He peered down at her pretty face and shook his head.

"I think it is time to dance…" She made a dramatic bow and looked up at him from the tops of her eyes, her lips curled devilishly, and held a hand out to him. "If you would do me this honor, good sir…?"

He chuckled under his breath and took her hand, letting her pull him around as she started to dance to the song that played in her head.

And he watched her, the way she let the hurt drain away as she smiled and laughed and twirled before him.

Her parents were fools, he decided. They had no idea the gem they had in their midst; whom they had raised to be such a beautiful, free soul, and who deserved their never ending appreciation. He would not repeat their mistake.

…

"Will you tell me of your travels, Elijah?" she asked him one morning, fingers picking through her hair, knitting tiny braids into it.

"I have been many places, Caroline. It would take far longer than a morning to share them all with you."

"Well perhaps if you tell me, the day will stop, the world will stay in its place, and we will be the only two who keep moving…" She smiled over at him cheerfully. "And then you can talk for an age and I will listen intently to how the outside world compares to the abysmal one I live in."

"And where would you travel?" he queried, an eyebrow raised. "If you had the world at your feet, where would they take you?"

She whirled toward him, her expression bright with excitement. "Everywhere," she said with reverence, walking quickly to meet him where he stood center in their clearing. "I would travel the oceans and—and I would learn new languages! I would meet new people and have them teach me their ways." She nodded. "I would see the whole world and I would never return!" She nodded, her gaze falling to the ground. "I would find freedom and I would never waste it."

"Perhaps one day you will," he told her, his voice deeper, heavy with thought.

He imagined Caroline, leaving behind the shackles that chased her outside of the clearing, much like his own Niklaus-shaped ones, and he found himself wondering how marvelous it might be to show her the world himself. To see the light bloom in her eyes as she reached each new destination, that insatiable curiosity coming forward and filling her to the brim.

When he left the clearing, he knew those fanciful dreams would have to fade, but when he stood inside it, with just Caroline and the hope for that future apparent on her face, he let himself think it could be possible.

…

"What are their names again?"

"Niklaus, Rebekah, Finn, Kol, Henrik and Aaron," he answered. He fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt then and cleared his throat, his eyes falling. "Henrik and Aaron both died quite young though. It was… unfortunate. They would have become good men."

Caroline paused and reached for him, staying his hands and taking them into her own. She stared up at him, blue eyes swimming with empathy. "I'm so sorry, Elijah."

"Thank you. It is… unnecessary though. It happened… a very long time ago," he dismissed, glancing away.

"Your family will always be your family… And I imagine that losing them has only made you love them more."

He raised his eyes to meet hers, his teeth grinding as he felt the truth of her words burn in his throat. He gave a quick nod; it was not often he let his emotions get the better of him and he feared doing so in front of her would make him look weak.

"Will you tell me about them?" she asked, squeezing his hands. "Here, come…" She led him to sit on the edge, his back against a tree. "For everything you tell me of them, I will tell you a story of something silly I did as a child," she offered, smiling up at him encouragingly.

And so he did.

He traded a memory of Henrik wandering into the woods in search of a spotted rabbit for Caroline's story of the time she stole her neighbor's pig before it could be slaughtered as she had bonded with it and did not want it to be killed. He traded Aaron's first words for the time she had lost a tooth and thought it was because she fell out of a tree and her parents would be angry with her for climbing again. Back and forth, he let her in on some of his favorite memories of his youngest brothers, forever etched in his mind as children lost too soon. In the process, he learned Caroline; the precocious girl who got into trouble at every chance offered and avoided the consequences at all costs.

And when she ran out of stories, he did not mind. He told her about Kol and Rebekah and Finn and he did not let the ache of regret get to him; instead, he talked until he could laugh and smile and say their names without thinking of all the ways they had been wronged by him or Niklaus or their parents.

Caroline hung on to every word, her eyes bright, her laugh easy, and her smile encouraging.

He avoided talking about Niklaus; he loved his brother, dearly so, but he feared that bringing him up would somehow conjure him. Here was Elijah's escape, she was his freedom, and he refused to let even Niklaus' memory taint that.

…

Some days, he was surprised by how close they had grown. Every morning for two weeks, he made his way to her and every time he left, he wished for the next sunrise to arrive sooner. The dancing was fun, but it was talking to her that he enjoyed most. If there was one thing Caroline was not, it was lacking in questions.

"Have you ever married?" She paused, her brows knit. "Are you married?"

He cast an eye to her and frowned. "No." He smiled slowly. "I'm not sure how a wife would appreciate my being here with you…"

"I'm certain she would trust you." She nodded, peering over at him. "Marriage survives on trust, does it not? What do you have with each other if you cannot trust that you will always be honest and true to one another?"

She spoke with such certainty that he was momentarily jealous of the man who would win her hand in marriage, for she would not let him have it unless he was deserving.

She sighed then, wrinkling her nose. "Of course, that could be the silly ramblings of a girl who lives in a fantasy where love matters more than anything… So my father says."

He eyed her a moment before reaching out and taking her hand, her fingers now quite familiar with his own. He brought her to him, spinning her as he did, enjoying the way she smiled lightly and let him dance her around the grass.

Finally, he brought her to his side.

"Whomever you love will be a lucky man indeed, Caroline," he said against her ear, his breath rustling her hair.

He could hear her breath stutter and turned his eyes to meet hers.

"I hope so," she whispered.

For a long time, there was silence, with her standing in the embrace of his arm, his cheek pressed to her soft hair, and the pitter-patter of her heart echoing in his ears. He read the hope in her eyes; the hope that had built with every passing day, every moment shared between them, that he felt himself returning with little fight.

She wanted him to be that man.

He wished he could be.

…

On the fifteenth day, he woke and dressed and nodded his hello to the servants who never commented or questioned why he was up so early or where he was going. Niklaus often slept in, his bed pillowed with however many women he had decided to entertain the night before, trying to chase away his anger at how slowly his search for the doppelgänger was going.

He stood watching as the sun went from black to purple to pink, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, listening to the chirp of the birds and the rustling of the wildlife. He could hear the faint sound of her heartbeat as she approached in the distance. He could pinpoint hers alone, distinct from all others; a beautiful staccato that always seemed to stutter when he smiled at her.

The fiery sun rose, casting its warm glow over all it touched, the trees turning from black, gnarled shadows to blooming green and earthy brown. He dropped his gaze as he heard her footsteps hurry, his mouth hitching up on one side. He bent as he spotted a daisy, wet with morning dew. He plucked it from the grass and twirled it between his fingers, turning just as she stepped out from the woods, face brightening happily.

"For you," he said, holding it aloft.

Caroline crossed the grass and accepted it as though it were worth far more than it could ever be. She reached up and tucked it behind her ear before she tipped her head back to gaze at him. "You grow more handsome every time I see you," she told him.

He laughed. "And you care even less for propriety each time we meet," he returned.

"We are on Caroline and Elijah land… No use for propriety," she reminded, moving to circle him, her hands clasped behind her back.

"That is a pretty dress," he commented, his eyes following her. "Is it new?"

Her nose wrinkled as she looked down at it. "Yes. It is… My father bought it for me."

His head quirked, brow furrowed at the strain of her voice. "It is quite fetching on you… Do you not like it?"

"On the contrary." She spun, letting the fabric swish around her. "I love pretty things…" She smiled. "It is not often I get them, but when I do, I relish them." Her expression dimmed as she stared down at her dress. "This one I care little for, however…" She chewed her lip. "It— It seems my father thinks I am of age to begin looking for suitors and thinks a new gown will help to catch the eye of my future husband."

Elijah's smile faded. "Suitors," he repeated.

Caroline shook her head and forced a cheerful smile. "This is where we come to be happy, is it not?" She reached for his hands and tugged him forward. "Let us forget what is required of us…"

He pulled her to a stop though and she looked up at him, her brow furrowed worriedly.

His hand rose in answer, smoothing away the wrinkle of her forehead with his thumb, letting it then dip down to trace the curve of her nose. "You have taught me plenty," he told her.

And it was true; he had long forgotten what embarrassment felt like when it came to dancing. She had yet to convince him out of his boots, but he joined her as she frolicked, reaching for the clouds and that intangible freedom that came with it.

Caroline's expression was stricken and it brought his hand to her cheek, stroking.

"It is my turn to teach you…"

Her brows arched in surprise.

He lifted her hands into the air and pressed his own to them. "There are rules," he told her. "Many of them." He nodded. "There is bowing and steps that have to be followed. It is meant to be elegant, refined…"

She let him move her where she needed to be, let him teach her, but she watched him all the while curiously. "You like rules, do you not, Elijah?"

"They have served me well," he agreed.

"You live by a code of honor and that requires that you and those you trust follow those rules…"

He stared at her thoughtfully. "Yes, it does."

She smiled vaguely. "Then why do you spend your mornings here, with me? When all I ever want to do is escape?"

"There are some rules that I am bound by… and wish not to be," he responded honestly. He adjusted her elbow as they circled one another, his arm tucked at his back. "Days when I wish things outside of this clearing were as easy as they are inside of it."

She gazed at him a long moment before finally nodding. "Perhaps God's will is that we found this place then, and each other in it."

Elijah was very certain that after all the death his hands were bloody with, God would not grant him any such luxury, but Caroline seemed to take to the idea. She grinned widely and, forgetting all about the dance they were practicing, took his hand and stepped closer to him. "My grandmother used to tell me that there was one person in the world for everyone, that they were fated, like soul mates…" She stared up at him excitedly. "Perchance you are mine and I am yours."

The sun made her hair look even shinier than usual, glinting like spun gold, falling in gentle curls down her back.

"I should be so lucky," he murmured, the very idea weighing heavy on his heart.

She cupped his face between her hands and shook her head slowly. "If the suitors my father searched for were any like you, I would not fear my future… I would welcome it."

In that moment, Elijah felt fiercely protective of her; he wanted nothing more than to be the man she wanted, to be the husband her father thought to provide for her. But he was not a regular man; he was not a man at all. He was a vampire, a soulless creature, and he could not force his blackened life on her. Nor could he allow Niklaus to know of her existence or his feelings for her.

"I trust that your father will make the right choice for you, Miss Caroline," he told her, despite the twist of his stomach. "A woman such as you deserves only the best."

He could see as she withdrew, as she took his words for rejection, and her fingers curled, biting into her palms, before she pulled back from him, taking one step and then another. Her eyes fell to the grass below and she nodded. "I should return. Mother is likely wondering where I am." She forced a smile and curtsied for him. "I thank you for the dance, Mister Elijah… It was my pleasure."

All he heard was 'farewell.'

She turned then and walked to the edge of the clearing, slipping her feet into her shoes. She paused only once, reached up, and tugged the daisy from her hair. She let it sit in her palm a moment and stared at it long and hard before finally turning her hand over and letting it drift to the ground.

He closed his eyes as she left, refusing to watch her go for the first time since he had laid eyes on her. He could not watch her leave, knowing it was likely she would not return.

He wished, more than anything, that the complications of life outside their clearing had not entered it. He wished they had simply danced and laughed and been free, together.

But his wish was not to be.

[Next: Part II.]

Author's Note: Phew! Finally, I can start posting this. Literally, from the moment I started writing this, I already wanted it to be posted, haha.

Special shout-out to Shannon (itsvolcanoday) for being such an incredible beta and helping me to fix all of the hiccups that came with writing this and just generally being a fantastic person to bounce ideas off for both this and my Steroline re-write. And also to the ever-amazing Mel (dhfreak) who made the stunning (as usual) poster for this story before I'd ever posted it and only on a few vague details, because she is just THAT fantastic. Also a huge thank you to everybody who is giving this a chance despite not generally being a Carlijah reader, as all of my previous TVD stories were Steroline (except for my crossover Damon/Chloe Sullivan, and Stefan/Chloe Sullivan stories) and we can all be pretty particular about our ships! And of course, to all of you who've read because you actually are Caroline/Elijah fans (yay us!) and decided to read my story of your own volition.

I really hope you enjoyed this and will continue to with everything I have coming! I loved writing Elijah; he's a wonderfully complex and genuinely good character and it's been lovely to pick him apart in this. I look forward to reading your reviews and seeing how you like it, what stuck out for you, whether you're excited for more, and premonitions for where I might be going are always fun! ;)

For any of you who are worried about an update on Second Chance, I'll be working on it this weekend and will have it in with Shannon as soon as I can. Don't worry!

So thank you, I appreciate your reading and please do leave a review!

-Lee | Fina