klarolineseason

[klarolineseason]

KC Frosted Festival Gift Exchange 2021 - Gifter Reveals

We have reached the end of our guessing period, all of our fantastic creators are revealed. Now is the time to show all of the submissions some love at 2021 KC Frosted Gift Exchange 

A special spotlight to our amazing pinch hitters @highgaarden and @queencarolinemikaelson for answering the call for help and providing some excellent gifts. May we reach the hall of exchange fame for having a pinch gifter.

And a round of applause goes to @misssophiachase, @definedareasofuncertainty, @klarolinesbuttons, @sekretny13, @diaz-eddie  for their guidance and additional help. This truly was a team effort and they went above and beyond as volunteers. We appreciate you!

It goes without saying that we are so proud of everyone who participated but a huge thank you to all members of this year’s frosted exchange. They churned out 28 gifts, each incredible and unique. The talent and love poured into our event is plain to see and heartening for kc shippers near and far. We look forward to seeing fandom enjoy these gifts with for a long time.

We encourage everyone to support all the marvelous gifts with kudos and join us in the comments. Everyone has worked so hard and their effort deserves our reciprocation.

Click Below for a Masterlist of Gifts!

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[klarolineseason]

Not All Guns and Roses by @recklessnesspersonified for kcfrostedexchange

A marriage of convenience among two rivals and friends with benefits. Will it end in roses or would it go up in flames. Mafia Au with arranged marriage. A little angst with a happy ending.

[klarolineseason]

Klaroline; beauty and the beast au 

For @austennerdita2533 - kc frosted exchange 2021 | @klarolineseason

Evermore [ao3]

Cold.

The cold feeling of the empty castle, of the everlasting snow lying on the gardens and the solitude of his vacant home. Cold, like his heart, like the Enchantress muttered he was.

All Klaus has felt since the Enchantress knocked on his door all those years ago was cold.

Until her.

Until the striking blonde-haired woman entered his life, with eyes that reminded him of the vast ocean.

Days started to fill with laughter and adventures. Evenings filled with shared tea and quiet reading.

Until he no longer hid in the shadows, and could hold her in his arms, dancing the night away.

Until Caroline. The girl who restored his hope by breaking the curse, loving him as much as he loves her.

With Caroline, all Klaus feels is warmth. Warmth in the crease of her lips, in her bright eyes and their intertwined hands. Her love’s clear and ever-present. Her love lights up his dark and cold world. The warmth she brings melts away the loneliness that has covered him for years.

“What are you thinking about?” Caroline’s voice brings him out of his thoughts.

“You.”

Caroline scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Sure. But really - what else are you thinking about?”

“That’s it. You’re in all the thoughts,” he smiles.

“You’re ridiculous.” She laughs then meets his eyes, maybe to see if he’s telling the truth. She shooks her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I’ve no idea. You married quite the disaster, I’m afraid.”

“I knew that from the first day I met you.” She leans down kissing his lips for a short second and then his nose. Klaus can’t help but reach for her hand, leading her closer to him as he tries not to get lost in her ocean eyes. In a blink, his lips are on hers.

His free hand gently cups her face as the other moves to rest on her lower back. The kiss is soft and everything he thought it would be and more. Kaus feels her arms wrap around him as her hands clasp on his clothes.

And there’s nowhere else in the world he would rather be in than be in this moment, kissing her back with everything in him.

[klarolineseason]

Third Time’s The Charm

He doesn’t know when he understood ; was it on the river’s shore, when her foot broke the water and she watched it ripple ? Was it the day he witnessed her crying for the first time, in her mother’s hut, her eyes red and her lip trembling ?

More accurately, he doesn’t know how he realised. He knows it’s years later, as he dances with her and she avoids his eyes ; it comes over him all at once, a wave that hits him right in his dead, unbeating heart.

And the wave hits, again and again, every time he finds her again ; and as the wave hits, he remembers how it went down the times before.

It all began in Mystic Falls, of course. Everything began in that cursed place.

***

1001 A.D

Henrik tugged on his sleeve, his youthfulness still exuberant, and pointed at the girls who were weaving under the tree.

Niklaus could understand the admiration, as he knew that boys’ fingers were too rough from heavy labour to weave as quickly and gracefully as the girls, who had spent time bending their long fingers and practicing. Niklaus could understand the admiration, although his interest lay dormant ; he spared them a glance, but did not recognise any of the girls, and so he did not care for them.

He saw her quickly enough : laughing at something her friend said, their arms tangled together as they observed the flowers a little boy was presenting them. He had never seen her friend before, but she had many and changed favourites often - it was easy for her to do so, he realised, in friendship or in love.

But that was Tatia’s way, and he had gotten used to it.

He caught her eye, then, and she freed her arm from her friend’s (she was blonde, he noticed, with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. They were sparkling with knowledge, or something of the sort, and as their eyes crossed he thought that maybe something had changed. The feeling didn’t last long, though, for Tatia’s touch brought him back).

When she led him to the woods, he forgot that Henrik had been standing right next to him.

When she allowed him to push her against a tree, he forgot all that he ever knew (except for a shade of blue and the shape of an eye, but that he would never tell).

The sun had fallen and the stars had risen when he entered his family’s hut; inside, he found Esther and Rebekah, drinking tea with Tatia’s latest friend. He was surprised, to say the least, and even more so as he realised that Henrik was sitting on the girl’s knees.

That was the day he tasted her name for the first time.

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[klarolineseason]

kcfrostedexchange ❄️ when all is fading, something remains

gift 3/3 for @lilyfancies

[klarolineseason]

kcfrostedexchange ❄️ when all is fading, something remains

gift 2⁄3 for @lilyfancies 

[klarolineseason]

a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere

playlist for nutcracker suite 💙 a gift to @brophigenia for kcfrostedexchange ❄️ quotes from the fic paired with lyrics under the cut

1. A Long Way Past the Past - Fleet Foxes

And I can't let go of a lot I've left I'm holding nothing but what I kept And it all got dimmer each passing step

Now she watched the peerage laugh and dance all around her and felt utterly, completely, alone.

2. Walking on a String - Matt Berninger and Phoebe Bridgers

I knew that I was dead before you touched my lonesome skin You're never running out of ways to warm your way back in […] To my lonesome soul and take it

His hand is still as hot as a brand when it envelops hers, and she can barely stand to look at him as he leads her out to the center of the dancers.

3. The Dress Looks Nice On You - Sufjan Stevens

I can see a lot of life in you I can see a lot of bright in you And I think the dress looks nice on you

In my dreams you are clothed in starlight, she remembered him saying, and bit her lip as she raked her eyes over this newest dress which made her look as if she were clothed in the stars themselves.

Interlude I: Patience - The Lumineers

4. The Paper Kites - Bloom

Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness, And you fill my head with you Shall I write it in a letter?

Caroline, […] I sent you the gown because I admire you greatly, and wanted, selfishly, not just to please you but to see you in something that I felt would do your beauty justice.

5. From Eden - Hozier

Innocence died screaming, honey ask me I should know […] there's something wretched about this Something so precious about this

Klaus— […] You say all of these things and your eyes are so kind and your hands scorch me, your touch scorches me— I hate you half of the time and then you go and do something ridiculous like send the North’s armies for me, all for me, like that’s something a new king can do, you’re so ridiculous and I can’t stop thinking about you.

Interlude II: The Golden Hour – Louie Zong

6. No One’s Gonna Love You – Band of Horses

If things start splitting at the seams and now It's tumbling down hard You are the ever-living ghost of what once was

And now here she found herself, on the eve of her twenty-third birthday, traitorously hoping that there would be a large box anonymously delivered to her rooms before it was time to go down to the ball being thrown for her birthday.

7. For You to Be Here - Tom Rosenthal

Mama says it's gonna get cold in the night But if I picture you then I'll be alright I am ready, I am ready for you to be here

Finally, as the night winds down and she thinks that Klaus will stay away from her for the whole ball, he appears like some stately vision before her.

8. Ends of the Earth - Lord Huron

Please don't say I'm goin' alone To the ends of the earth, would you follow me? There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see

“Why not?” She demanded, in a tone harsher than she meant, because he had never denied her anything before— she had never asked for anything before, he had always given freely to her what was his to give.

9. Transatlantique - Beirut

Midnight surrounds you with moonlight makes you proud Last night oh, we were running around, oh-oh All along, I was your home

Klaus went utterly still, eyes searching her face, and then he laughed, the sound a little strangled, a little unpracticed, and as she dragged him down to kiss him she thought that it was okay he was a little unused to joy.

[klarolineseason]

​kcfrostedexchange ❄️ when all is fading, something remains

gift 1/3 for @lilyfancies

[klarolineseason]

A Portrait of a Broken Marriage gifted to @labime

Apart of the @klarolineseason

Frosted Gift Exchange (collection here)

Rating: E

Summary:

After three years of not hearing from his estranged wife, Klaus is served with divorce papers. Not ready to let go of his marriage and the love of his life, he demands a sit down meeting between him, Caroline and their attorneys. Yet, not everything is simple. Love is messy and complicated but even the most broken of foundations can be repaired.

Playlist

[klarolineseason]

Valkyrie!Caroline x viking!Klaus.

Gift for @lynyrdwrites (2 of 2), as part of the KC Frosted Exchange organized by @klarolineseason

“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.]

[klarolineseason]

Here is my Frosted Exchange work for @queencarolinemikaelson​​!

It was soo much fun making this playlist for you! If you every want the extended version, let me know, I would be happy to gift it to you!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7spM9abQmF6elncYlQKHwA?si=780eb0e1fa5c4146

Thanks for the lovely comment you left on the work,

Gabby

[klarolineseason]

seasons (waiting on you) kc frosted exchange gift fic for the lovely @darkestgrays

It is always odd, the way these things go.

Blood, maybe.

A soul bond, definitely.

A quick cut of the eyes across a crowded room.

A mouthful of sharp teeth.

A heart full of want.

The stories are all one and the same.

And they all begin with someone walking into a room.

—

Once, in a diner somewhere:

Writer walks in. Writer is disgruntled, behind on his latest novel, needs a coffee and a caring hand. His hair hasn’t been touched by a comb in three days. There is a cut on his wrist, though he does not remember how that had happened.

Waitress swoops behind the till. She is juggling two coffees and a plate greasy with bacon and eggs, which she passes off to someone else, barks a quick order to get it to table seven. She is as organized as her hair is obedient: it is tucked back into a ponytail, swinging in the air like a lasso free and loose, about to latch onto some poor unsuspecting animal’s neck. And coiled-yellow. Her hair is so yellow.

A bit like the su—

“I think you’re an Americano, no sugar kind,” she says as he reaches the counter. “Very dramatic sweater, by the way.”

“Do I know you?” he asks, affronted. It is a new sweater, charcoal grey with rigid black stitching, and quite nice thank you very much.

“No, but I’ll know you,” she says, and how presumptuous she is—the thought is interrupted by her handwriting: in graceful, practiced movements she wraps up his order with her sprawling penmanship, efficient strokes and careless bends, spelling out his name. He has not given her his name. He is sure. “You wanted this to go, right? See you tomorrow.”

Klaus blinks at the offered bag. He doesn’t remember if he’d even specified, but somehow manages to ask, rather dazedly, “And what makes you think I’ll come back?”

She peers at him. Her eyes look beyond him, and for a moment she forgets who she is. “But you always do.”

Klaus’s hand moves of its own accord, reaching out through the space floating between them to grasp the bag – his thumb presses firm on the side of her hand, and how he looks at her—it is as if he forgets himself, too, when he says: “I will. I promise.”

Blue eyes meet blue.

A second bleeds into two.

Her lips part.

His mouth curls.

Somewhere, in the distance, mountains shiver and a long-forgotten question lingers in the air, like a half-remembered dream.

All you have to do is—

Sound rushes back into the room. It bangs on the counters jolting them awake. The waitress with the nametag ‘HELLO, MY NAME IS Caroline” frowns. “That… will be four dollars, thirty cents.”

“Keep the change,” Klaus says distractedly. His thumb presses firm around his coffee.

—

And sometimes, even like this:

There is a girl on the platform, running. Her shoes are worn, her clothes are air-light. Her hair streams behind her in bursting coils, the color of sun fragments, of gold—there are snowflakes falling but they melt, never touching her. It might have something to do with the blood on her neck.

He is sitting on a bench, reading Metamorphoses. His watch ticks where it’s clipped around his wrist. It’s almost two, and his hybrids are late. He’s angry, or hungry, or maybe both – he hasn’t decided yet. What he has decided, of course, was that two hybrids would have to go today. There will be room for more.

Steam whistles, metal screeches and grinds, and the smell of blood bursts in the air.

He looks up.

Two platforms away, the girl barely manages to catch her train. The door slides shut behind her, she slumps down. Through the window and a window and another window she sees him, book limp in his hand, eyes startled, Ovid quite forgotten.

The train starts to move, he starts to get up—

They never see each other again.

—

Or even:

“I need your blood.”

“You always need my blood.”

Caroline is sitting on his bed, glasses low on the bridge of her nose. She is smiling, wan. Her hair twirls golden around her, piled up into a bun. Light streams through the window and catches on some loose strands: they glint like the sun. Klaus stands at the foot of his bed, hands tucked into his pockets, frowning deep. “That was one time, sweetheart.”

“An act of kindness on my part,” she says, one eyebrow raised, “beyond what you’re actually due.”

Klaus sighs. He knows how this will go. He will probably have to grovel—he never knows with Caroline, volatile as she is. A thousand years on this earth has not been kind to her. He wonders if she wishes for death, he wonders how bored she must be. He wonders how she hasn’t just figured out how to just die by now. “How do I acquit myself, then?”

“You don’t,” Caroline says flatly. She stretches her limbs. Strong, lithe, graceful. Her nails are not painted. They are chewed and bitten. He is surprised by this. When one says Original Vampire, one does not think of imperfection, especially inflicted upon oneself. Quite suddenly he wonders what her fingers taste like between tongue and teeth.

He thinks of Stefan on his deathbed, Stefan choking on his own bile, Tyler’s bite festering away on his neck. “How do I gain another favor?”

Caroline tilts her head.

She looks as if she is measuring the lines of him, the way her eyes dart. Sizing him up. Testing his worth.

Cataloging him.

Pinning him down to a board, like a dead butterfly—dried up, drawn, diagrammed.

Klaus hates her, he decides.

“Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?” Caroline asks, both eyebrows raised now.

No, he thinks.

“Yes,” he says.

Klaus wonders why he is always Caroline-bait. Why he is the one Caroline is fascinated with.

“The doppelganger,” Caroline brings up conversationally, with the air of someone picking imaginary lint off their shoulder. “How’s she doing?”

Klaus clenches his fists, hidden behind pressed denim.

One day, he thinks—

—

“I’ll kill her,” Caroline growls, face in the dirt, blood in her teeth. Her chin is scraped raw against the stone of the floor: she’d been thrown in with such force she tastes blood in the back of her throat. It almost replenishes her. Almost. Her wrists are bound in vervain-soaked rope, and her cheerleading uniform is in tatters. She hasn’t eaten in days.

“You and me both,” says her cellmate wearily.

Caroline eyes the way his bones seem to peek through the skin of his wrist. “How long have you been here?”

He casts her a sidelong glance. “That’s a depressing question.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“So.”

“Yes.”

“Got a name?”

“Does it matter?” he asks. “We’re about to die.”

Caroline mulls this over. “It matters to me. You’ll die first, I think. Wouldn’t you want someone to remember you?”

He looks at her, then. His eyes are so, so blue. She spies a speckle of moles on his neck, hidden behind the grey collar of his henley shirt. She wonders what color it was originally. “I used to think that being forgotten was the worst thing in the world.”

Caroline shuffles back, leans against the wall, rests her bloodied scalp against green-mossed brick. She tries not to think of what the damp will do to her hair. “It’s not?”

Her cellmate breathes a laugh through his nose. He is still looking at her. For some reason, she thinks of the sway and dip of a large hall, of a dress with too long a train, of being dipped and turned and twirled and breathless and young. So, so, young. She’s not felt that way in years.

“No,” he answers. He closes his eyes, and doesn’t elaborate.

—

“The worst thing about having you,” Klaus confesses, “is knowing that at any minute you might disappear.”

“I’d hate to be predictable,” Caroline responds airily. As if that’s enough of a balm to the quiver of his heartbeat whenever she so much as breathes around him.

They are in the forest.

They’re always in the forest.

She walked into the clearing where he is burying twelve witches for her, her wrists cramped from endless wringing. His shoulders are sore. He has not felt this tired in a long, long time.

“Are you done yet?” she demands, and he has to take in a sharp breath so he does not plunge the tip of the shovel into her perfect, smooth abdomen.

“Clearly,” he says back waspishly. “Can’t you count?”

“Twelve graves.” She looks approving. “Bonnie didn’t die for nothing, then.”

The ground beneath them hums with the sort of energy that comes from blood spilled too soon, from a life ended too young. From magic, interrupted. From love, unbloomed. He wonders if it’s her, or him. They’ll never tell, that much is certain.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” he grunts, and packs the last of the earth over the mound covering broken bones and bloodied necks. “How about coffee, one of these days?”

Caroline doesn’t answer.

He turns to look at her. He is sweaty and disarmed and too fucking old for this. He should have had his hybrids do the dirty work, but Caroline had been crying earlier—

“What?” he asks of the look in her eyes.

Caroline blinks.

“What? ” he orders, now.

“Nothing,” she says, belatedly. “I could have sworn…” she trails off and looks to the side. Her cheeks redden. He is struck at how young she looks. But then again, she is only a baby vampire. Too young to know the meaning of death. True death.

He glances at the graves. Twelve.

True death indeed.

“Could’ve sworn?” he prompts.

Her eyes look far away. “I—nothing.”

Klaus turns back to the graves, pretends he misses a spot. His movements are practiced, like he’s done this before. Muscle memory tells him he has, but he is rational enough to know the truth of things.

And the truth of things, is that he is—

—

“We’ve met before,” Klaus says, crouched low like a predator, teeth bared like a killer.

“Have we?”

“Of course,” Klaus answers, as if it’s obvious. “You may not remember. You were supposed to be my sacrifice for the ritual.”

“Oh,” Caroline says, frowning, like she hasn’t got a huge, gaping bite festering away on her neck or anything. “Right.”

He bends over her on her bed. He looks out of place in her room: like tar smeared against pavement, like blood welling in a nearly healed wound. “Well, I don’t know you, so.”

“But,” Klaus says, and he doesn’t know why he fucking says this— “I’ll know you. If I heal you, I presume you’ll leave town and it’ll be a few more decades until I see you again.”

Caroline doesn’t look at him. “And what makes you think I’ll come back?”

Klaus reaches for her—is surprised when she lets him turn her face to his. His palm curves around the column of her neck, he feels the softness of her cheek, juxtaposed by the sharp cut of her jawline against his wrist.

“But you always do,” he says, almost like a vow. “You always do.”

Caroline closes her eyes. She’s dying, but not dead yet. Her lips move wordlessly. He watches the way they move in fascination. Is she praying? What an odd little vampire.

His hand is still around her neck.

He could choke her, if he wanted.

He could heal her, if she asked.

He waits.

He feels, on some distant plane, that he is always doing this.

“If you let me die,” she says, eyes still closed, “I’ll come back and haunt you.”

“Oh, love,” he breathes, and leans in close—crushes his lashes to hers, warms her forehead against his, brushes his lips against the defiant downturn of her mouth, “Promise me that.”

“I will.” At last, her eyes open. “I promise.”

Blue eyes meet blue.

A second bleeds into two.

Her lips part.

Ready for his wrist, the one he’s just offered to her.

He would call her utterly presumptuous if he wasn’t so utterly charmed.

—

The stories are all one and the same.

A heart full of want.

A mouthful of sharp teeth.

A quick cut of the eyes across a crowded room.

A soul bond, maybe.

Blood, definitely.

Blood, blood and blood.

[klarolineseason]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson Characters: Caroline Forbes, Klaus Mikaelson Additional Tags: Drabble, Post-Canon, Canon Divergence Summary:

Caroline goes to New Orleans for the Holidays and even amidst the busy streets, it’s with clarity that she knows Klaus is what she’s been looking for.

He’s probably always been.

–;

A little drabble gift I wrote for the KC Frosted Exchange by @klarolineseason for @celestewrote! Lovely Ness, hope you enjoyed this stolen moment of Klaroline in NOLA.

Hope you’ve been having an amazing start to the year!🥳 Much love.

[klarolineseason]

whatever souls are made of, a gift for @strangenightsofdaydreams

Caroline is on her way to a job interview when her wolf, Lady, takes notice of a wolf accompanying a stranger with dimples and a British accent.

Her wolf's taste is better than her own; life just isn't fair.

@klarolineseason

[klarolineseason]

Falling With Grace

My edit and short drabble gift to my beloved giftee, Cristy🤍 @misssophiachase for the KC Frosted Exchange!! Thank you @klarolineseason for organising this event!! I had so much fun in my first exchange and it means so much to me🤍

Summary :

Rumour has it that an unusual alliance has been formed between the witches and the hybrids in the supernatural circle of Mystic Falls. In a sudden turn of events, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Caroline, has announced a newly formed alliance with Niklaus Mikaelson, the Original Hybrid. As queen of the witch realm, Queen Caroline has picked a side in the supernatural war and it is the winning side of course. A different kind of spark has formed between them as they started working closely to keep the peace in the supernatural circle. Will this alliance be a wise move for them and the kingdom? Will they be able to form a strong alliance despite their deep hatred towards each other? Well as the saying goes, “keep your friends close and your enemies closer." 

Read the short drabble on ao3

[klarolineseason]

the road not taken by @definedareasofuncertainty

Famous pop singer Caroline Forbes goes back to Mystic Falls for the holidays. And so does Klaus Mikaelson.

[klarolineseason]

at the end of the line (there you are)

my gift for @slstmaraudersjple for the @klarolineseason frosted festival gift exchange! also here on ao3

vaguely post canon, soulmate au

It’s a good thing Klaus couldn’t feel the cold anymore otherwise he’d be freezing his balls off. A thousand years couldn’t make him forget the feeling of a chill seeping through your skin until your bones felt shivery. He’d lived the entirety of his human life dreading the winters, mourning as the leaves started to turn color, knowing months of constantly trying to stay warm awaited. It’s a miracle he had lived to adulthood. There was no heating or AC units, no antibiotics or antiseptic. No movies, television, books. The only music you had was what you could play yourself. Humans really were very coddled these days.

A rustling wind moves through the trees, blowing towards Lake Michigan. He’s up to his knees in snow and surrounded by the logs of a half dozen felled trees. Enough to keep the cabin warm for a year. He likes to chop wood as a stress reliever. Business in Chicago isn’t going so great, some petty arguments between one of the wolf clans and a coven.

Chicago had seemed like a good place to settle after he and Caroline had travelled for a decade. And it was a good home. They had their penthouse in the city and their getaway cabin away from the city that none but their very inner circle knew about. They’d been coming out here more often lately. Perhaps in his very advanced age, he was starting to appreciate moments of peace.

He feels it when it happens. A shock of pain radiating through him. Not his pain, though. Caroline’s. The sting of teeth breaking skin. Agony moving out down her shoulder down her arm. He’s too far out in the woods to hear her screams but he hears them anyway, rattling around in his head and joining his own yells of pain. He’s immobile on the ground, one hand propping himself up but still the ache was too great for him to move.

This is the blessing and curse of soulmates; you can feel one another’s physical pain so always know when the other is in danger. But sometimes you’re too helpless to do anything about it. His head starts to feel fuzzy, vision wavering and muscles weakening until he’s lying on the ground. Klaus has had many close calls over the years, but it’s been a long time since he’s felt this powerless.

He comes to in the clearing. The sun is in the same position so he can’t have been out for long but now he can’t feel Caroline at all.

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