Unexpected Little Princess

by Im_the_devil_herself_darling

Summary:

Caroline has some secrets,

Rebekah throws a ball,

Klaus is smitten with Caroline,

And an unexpected guest arrives.

LET THE PARTY BEGIN!!!

Notes:

Sooooo, I came up with the idea for this fic some time ago. At first, it was supposed to be a one-shot, maybe two chapters, but somehow it turned out differently and will be longer.

We'll see.

Anyway, I'm posting this on the train, so sorry for any weird mistakes.

Chapter 1: Caroline

Summary:

Caroline gets an invitation and experiences déjà vu.

 

The invitation was not unexpected—at least, Caroline thought it shouldn't have been. However, after receiving messages from Elena and Bonnie over the past few days, which were full of vague hints and subtle suggestions, she really could have expected it. What really surprised her was the fact that the invitation did not arrive at her home in Mystic Falls, as one might expect.

 

(Okay, so she expected that a little bit too.)

 

And on the one hand, it made sense, of course — after all, she wasn't at home right now. If the invitation had come from anyone else, she would have accepted it without much suspicion. But in this case... she was in Beacon Hills, staying with her sister and uncle. And an invitation to a ball organized by the Mikaelsons themselves seemed disturbing, to say the least.

 

She was almost certain that no one knew where she was. She trusted her mother — Caroline knew she wouldn't reveal her location. And yet, someone must have been following her. And it should have been slightly unsettling for her, but she trusted the one who was doing it.

 

Running her fingers over the elegant envelope, Caroline couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu. The invitation looked almost identical to the one she had received previously. With one exception: this time, it mentioned the theme of the event. And not just any theme.

 

“Princesses and Princes,” she snorted with laughter upon reading those words for the first time.

 

Who would have thought that a thousand-year-old vampire who had seen more history than most of the world’s libraries would have a soft spot for fairy tales and tiaras? Rebekah Mikaelson certainly knew how to surprise.

 

Caroline, though she had never been a close friend or even an acquaintance of Rebekah's, now had a rather... peculiar relationship with her. A strange, complicated alliance based on mutual respect, a hint of rivalry, and a peak of mutual understanding.

 

However, the déjà vu did not end with the invitation itself. As before, in addition to the envelope, there was also a box waiting for her. Large, snow-white, wrapped with a perfectly tied red bow - so beautiful that it was a shame to untie it.

 

Curiosity quickly got the better of her. Except that it wasn't really her curiosity.

 

It was Stanisława's. Her wonderful, stubborn Stasia, who, with the stubbornness of a wolf, insisted that everyone call her Stiles.

 

It was for her that Caroline came to Beacon Hills. Of course, her uncle Noah was also happy about her arrival, and the feeling was mutual. But it was Stiles who was the real magnet — her little ray of sunshine, whom Caroline hadn't seen in far too long.

 

Lately, their contact had been limited to video calls and occasional phone calls. It was nice, but not enough. Especially when she heard more and more often, “When are you finally coming?” But she couldn't just pack her bags and get in a car or on a plane. Not in the world she currently lived in. A world full of danger, where every day could be her last.

 

She was ready to fight for this girl's safety with all her might. Always. Even if it meant staying away until she was sure she was safe.

 

Yes, she was protective. But if anyone had met Stiles — a six-year-old volcanic mixture of energy, curiosity, empathy, and sass — they would be too. Only someone without a heart could fail to love her.

 

Fortunately, the last few weeks had brought some relief. Maybe it wasn't perfect, but Mystic Falls still attracted some of the most powerful beings on earth. There were doppelgangers, vampires, witches, werewolves, and hunters. But no one was currently trying to sacrifice themselves, dying, or planning ritual murders. And that was something.

 

That's why the invitation, though surprising, wasn't so crazy. The dress that came with it was another matter.

 

Caroline and Stiles were now sitting on the bed in the room that had long since ceased to be just a “guest room” and had become her own personal sanctuary. They were looking through the package, which excited the girl more than it did her. But the joy on Stiles' face was priceless.

 

As soon as she heard that the prom had a fairy tale theme, she literally jumped with excitement. Caroline hadn't seen her like this in a very long time.

 

At first, she wondered for a moment whether to send the box back. To pretend she hadn't received it. But then little fingers were already skillfully untying the bow, as if the girl had been doing it all her life.

 

And then...

 

The dress appeared before their eyes. No, not a dress. It was a masterpiece.

 

(But what else could be expected from the person who chose it for her?)

 

Blue, but not like the previous one, this one was the colour of a clear summer sky or beautiful coastal waves. Bright, azure, sparkling, and full of damn pearls. The dress looked as if it had been sewn from the sea itself and his beautiful gifts. The cut — delicate, feminine, and almost ethereal. And the fabric... simply unearthly.

 

Caroline carefully touched the fabric. Soft as silk, delicate as water.

 

“Wooooow,” she whispered as she looked at the girl sitting next to her.

 

Stiles stared at the dress with her mouth agape. Although she had never been into princesses or fairies, always being more interested in dinosaurs and anything with fangs, she now looked spellbound.

 

“You'll go, right? ” she asked hopefully, her eyes sparkling like two blue lakes.

 

“Hmm?” Caroline tilted her head, a little confused.

 

“To the ball! Of course! You'll meet your prince! You'll look sooo beautiful!”

 

She smiled warmly. Caroline wanted to laugh, but she held back, not wanting to spoil the magic of the moment. Apparently, every girl goes through a princess phase sooner or later.

 

Except that she... wasn't sure she really wanted to go. She'd rather stay here. In this house. In this world. With her. At least for a little while longer. But how could she say no to those eyes? To that voice? She couldn't.

 

So she gave in.

 

She was about to say, “Yes, I'll go, I'll tell you everything,” when she noticed Stiles' smile slowly fading.

 

“I'd like to go to a ball like that too,” she muttered quietly, almost in a whisper.

 

And at that moment, a thought flashed through Caroline's mind. Silly, crazy, perhaps a little irresponsible—but one she couldn't ignore.

 

She glanced back at the box. And then she saw it—the tiara. Silver, intricately crafted, studded with blue stones and pearls, like those on the dress. She couldn't joke that it was a fake. She knew the person who sent it, ahem, Klaus, ahem — and she knew he didn't go for cheap options.

 

She gently took the tiara in her hands, feeling its cool weight. Then she turned to the girl, knelt on the floor, and looked her straight in the eyes.

 

“I, Caroline Forbes, would like to ask you, Stiles Stilinski: will you be my princess and go to the ball with me?”

 

Yes. It was theatrical. It was pathetic. And surely anyone who saw it now would tap their head in laughter.

 

But who cares?

 

Sometimes, for those we love, we do things like this. Even if it means becoming a fairy godmother in a tiara with real sapphires.

 

For a few long seconds, Stasia looked at Caroline in silence, as if not believing what she had just heard. Her wide-open eyes shone in the dim light of the room, and her small face showed an expression of bewilderment mixed with childlike hope. Finally, her lips moved.

 

“Really...?” she whispered softly, almost silently, as if afraid that it was a dream that would disappear if she said anything too loudly.

 

Caroline smiled broadly, tenderly, with that warm gentleness she reserved exclusively for this one person.

 

“Really,” she confirmed, nodding her head. “If you want to, and of course if Uncle Noah agrees, you'll go there with me. As my little princess.”

 

At that moment, something broke inside the girl. She threw herself into Caroline's arms, hugging her with her small arms as tightly as if she were afraid that if she let go, everything would disappear. Caroline hugged her just as tightly, feeling emotion rising in her throat.

 

“Yes, yes, yes!” Stiles almost shouted, still nestled against her cousin. “I want to be your princess!”

 

Caroline giggled, pulling away slightly and looking into her eyes.

 

“In that case...” she began with theatrical solemnity, pulling out a silver tiara with blue jewels. “Let me officially coronate you.

 

Stasia sat up straight, as if she were suddenly one of those fairy-tale princesses from old stories. Her shoulders straight, her chin up, her spine straight as a ruler. She looked absolutely serious and absolutely adorable.

 

Caroline, still kneeling, lifted the tiara over the girl's head with the utmost care and ceremony.

 

“By the power vested in me by vampires, witches, and all other creatures of this strange world... I hereby proclaim you, Stanisławo Stilinski, princess of my heart,” she said with a solemnity that no monarch would be ashamed of, though inwardly laughing at the girl's expression at the use of her full name. “And my official companion at the ball.”

 

The tiara rested perfectly on the girl's dark hair. As soon as the cool silver touched her head, Stasia almost froze in place, and after a moment she burst into the purest, most joyful laughter.

 

“I look like a real princess!” she squealed, jumping out of bed and running to the mirror. “Oh my!”

 

Caroline stood up slowly, watching the girl spin in front of the mirror, doing pirouettes and trying to see her tiara from every angle. The sight was priceless.

 

And then a thought crossed the blonde's mind, momentarily overshadowing her joy: what if all this turned out to be dangerous? What if this ball... wasn't just a fairy tale?

 

She couldn't be naive. She knew Rebekah. She knew the Mikaelson family. She knew her friends. And most importantly, she knew her town. Even if the ball itself turned out to be safe, she couldn't trust that all would be peaceful in Mystic Falls. There was always something else going on. Politics. Manipulation. Secrets. Danger.

 

But looking at Stiles's face, lit up with joy, Caroline knew one thing: she would do anything to make this night special, even if she had to fight the whole world.

 

“All right, princess,” she finally said, reaching for her phone. “Time to figure out what we're going to tell your dad. Convince him that a night in the company of vampires and other supernatural beings is the perfect plan for a six-year-old.”

 

Stiles raised her eyebrows, still looking at herself in the mirror.

 

“Tell him I'll be safe. And that you're like a knight. Only in a dress.”

 

Caroline snorted with laughter, shaking her head.

 

“A knight in a dress... Sounds like a plan. But first, we have to find you a dress, little princess. Because you can't go to the ball in your pyjamas.”

 

“I want one like yours! Blue too!” Stiles exclaimed, jumping up and down.

 

Caroline looked at the package where she had found her dress earlier. And then at the girl. Well, a knight always fulfils his lady's wishes.

 

They would be together — the princess and her knight.

 

And they would go to the ball.

Chapter 2: Klaus

Summary:

Klaus is simply whipped for Caroline. That's all.

 

Preparations for the ball had been underway for a week. This was surprising, considering that Rebekah usually began planning such events at least two or even three weeks in advance. Klaus was surprised, but not enough to really catch his attention.

 

Only at first, though.

 

Now, less than 24 hours before the ball, the house resembled a battlefield, littered with various glowing decorations, crystals, and materials that were apparently intended to transform the mansion into a ballroom straight out of the royal balls they used to attend.

 

Some of the decorations were already in place, while others were still waiting for their turn, scattered across the floor and in every corner. And Rebekah—well, she was the center of it all, and honestly, no one would be surprised if the girl hadn't slept a wink in the last week.

 

She was no longer just a spark of chaos, as usual. This time, she resembled a tornado in silk, full of nervous instructions and evil glances.

 

None of the brothers wanted to get in her way. Elijah, usually calm and dignified, stepped into the shadows. Kol had melted into thin air, probably in the company of some irresponsible witch.

 

Klaus himself, along with his younger and older brothers, decided to choose the most sensible strategy, which was to get as far away from the blast site as possible.

 

At least until an hour before the ball started.

 

He knew perfectly well that if he arrived too late, dressed too casually, or — God forbid — didn't show up at all, Rebekah would drown him in a fury that even his immortality might not survive.

 

And they said he was the dramatic one, he snorted to himself.

 

Still, it wasn't fear of her anger that held him back.

 

Quite the opposite, in fact - the thought that his absence would drive his sister mad was very tempting to him. However-

 

However, there was a reason. One single, disturbingly effective reason. Her.

 

Caroline.

 

A young vampire who was constantly on his mind.

 

The thought of her had invaded his mind without asking and stayed there. For several days, her presence had weighed heavily on his consciousness. From the moment she left town, she had remained there, becoming more and more unbearable in her absence.

 

He couldn't ignore it. He never could, not completely.

 

From the very beginning, he was fascinated by her. At first, she was just a curiosity. A young vampire with extraordinary self-control and astonishing resistance to his influence. Over time, his fascination grew, regardless of his will or her refusals. Her friendship with his doppelganger, the boldness with which she threw her opinions in his face, the way she saw him - not as a monster, but as someone... inscrutable.

 

It didn't help that Caroline was often used as bait by those idiots she called friends. Funny. In such moments, she seemed more like his ally than victim. She wasn't afraid of him, even when she really should have been. She mocked him, resisted him, questioned his every move. And at the same time - and this was the most unbearable thing - she was getting closer to him. They were getting closer to each other.

 

There was always something peculiar about her. Something that made him unable to stop thinking about her.

 

Now, alone, a few hours before the ball, somewhere in the forest, he tried to understand what had actually gone wrong. What had happened just before she left. What had been left unsaid.

 

And why, despite all his cynicism and experience, he still, against all reason, hoped to see her that night.

 

 

---

 

 

So no, he wasn't spying.

 

- Okay, maybe a little.

 

But it wasn't his fault. It was the fault of that doppelganger and witch Bennett. They were talking too loud.

 

He didn't mean to overhear their conversation about Caroline. Or about her leaving. Damn it, he didn't intend to do anything today. His only plan was to pick up Rebecca and Kol from school and then lock himself in his studio to paint.

 

But he heard it. And now, for the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to do.

 

Because she was leaving. SHE. WAS. LEAVING.

 

He didn't know where. He didn't know for how long. He hadn't heard properly. He hadn't stayed to hear the end. Damn it, he didn't care about his siblings anymore. When he heard the words coming out of the doppelganger's mouth:

 

“Care is getting ready, she's leaving tonight, right?”

 

- he thought he was going crazy.

 

Where? Why? For how long?

 

These questions kept spinning around in his head, but did he have the right to know the answers?

 

He was no longer afraid to say that he was courting the blonde vampire. Hell, he wasn't even afraid to say that he had deeper feelings for her.

 

But he thought that whatever they had was mutual, at least enough to tell him about her leaving.

 

Ignoring everything else, he got back in his car and drove toward the Forbes property to get some answers.

 

He screeched to a halt in front of the Forbes house, jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and headed for the porch without even thinking about whether it was appropriate. He didn't analyze. Damn it, he couldn't think straight. He just acted. Because if he let her leave without a word... No. He wouldn't let her. Not without letting him know, not without finding out anything.

 

He was already standing at the Forbes' door before he could form a single coherent sentence in his head. He raised his hand and knocked. Once. Twice. Three times.

 

The door opened quickly. Maybe she was waiting? Maybe she sensed he was coming? He tried to convince himself.

 

(Wasn't he damn pathetic? Ha, if only someone could see him now.)

 

“Klaus?” Caroline asked, surprised but calm.

 

He clenched his jaw. He didn't answer right away. He looked at her. At her bright eyes, her uncombed hair, and her sweater, which looked worn. It was all so ordinary, so mundane... and yet she was about to disappear. Without a word. As if it meant nothing.

 

“I overheard a conversation between Witch Bennet and the doppelganger. That you're leaving. Tonight,” he said coldly, as if it were nothing. But he had no intention of hiding where he had learned about her departure. Because it wasn't from her. “Really? After all this... you're leaving and you don't even consider me worthy of telling me about it?”

 

Caroline sighed, brushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear.

 

“Klaus, it's not like that...”

 

“Then what is it like?” he snapped, taking a step toward her. “You were getting ready to leave, and I didn't know anything about it. I thought we were...” He trailed off. “That we were something more.”

 

Caroline paused, surprised by his tone. She wanted to say something, but he didn't give her a chance.

 

“I understand that everything between us is... complicated,” he added more quietly. Calmer. “That what we have... if we have anything at all, isn't easy to define. But damn it, I thought I deserved honesty.”

 

Caroline bit her lip, her gaze softening. She moved closer to him and touched his arm.

 

“Klaus, I'm just going to my family. For a few days. I'm not running away. I'm not leaving you or this city. I just... didn't want to make a big deal out of it. I need a break, a moment away from all this.”

 

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes still shining with anger and something else—something deeper. Something difficult to read.

 

“And you couldn't tell me?”

 

“I'm not going to lie to you. I didn't have the courage to tell you where I was going. It's very important to me that no one finds out about my mother's family,” she said, raising her hands. "It's my secret. And I'd rather it stay that way. I thought... that it wasn't time yet. That we weren't at that stage yet. DAMN IT! I don't even know what stage we're at!"

 

Klaus was slightly surprised by her outburst, but he snorted and looked away. The silence between them was becoming heavy.

 

“I understand that you have secrets, I do, secrets will always surround us, but I thought we were at a stage where I wasn't afraid that you would disappear,” he said quietly. “That one day you would be gone and never come back. That you would disappear like everyone else.”

 

Caroline moved closer. Very close. She touched his hand. He didn't run away. He didn't back away.

 

“I'm not running away, Klaus. Not this time. But that doesn't mean I have to share everything. I'm still learning what it means... to be with someone. To be with you.”

 

He was silent, so she continued.

 

“It's not easy. Because you're you. Because I'm also... who I am. Because none of this was supposed to happen, and yet here we are. And despite everything, you're important to me. Even if it's sometimes strange or incomprehensible. But you're right, I should have told you. I'm sorry.”

 

He struggled with himself for a moment, but then his shoulders slumped. He sighed heavily and finally looked at her. There was still a little bit of helplessness in his eyes, but there was even more relief.

 

“So, you'll come back?”

 

“I always come back,” she whispered.

 

And then she kissed him. Without warning. Gently, but confidently. As if she had finally made up her mind. Klaus didn't hesitate for a moment. He responded to the kiss with all the intensity he had in him — as if he wanted to remember every detail of her lips, as if this kiss would be enough for him for the days to come. As if everything depended on it.

 

And maybe it did.

 

When they finally pulled apart, neither of them said anything, both still a little confused. But in the best possible way.

 

Then Caroline raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly.

 

“Do you want to come in?”

 

Klaus didn't answer. He just crossed the threshold, not letting go of her hand. Because one thing he knew for sure:

 

If he wasn't going to see her for a few damn days, he wasn't going to let her go for the next few hours. No. Option.

 

 

---

 

 

That day, they spent several pleasant hours together until it was time for Caroline to leave. He ignored everyone else all day, spending his last few hours with the blonde beauty.

 

That's when something changed. Their relationship, he meant.

 

And maybe they didn't talk about it. But something seemed fuller now, more real.

 

That's why he was willing, and maybe even deep down he could admit, that he was excited to go to his sister's ball.

 

To finally see her.

 

He knew she was supposed to come back a little later, she had mentioned it. But she would come back for the ball, right?

 

He had sent her an invitation himself, and of course a dress.

 

She was going to come, wasn't she?

 

Right?

Chapter 3: Stiles

Summary:

Stiles being just an excited cute child

 

Stiles couldn't sleep.

 

Her head could only think. Not sleep.

 

How could she sleep when she was going to the ball? A ball like in a fairy tale! With a real dress, a tiara, and a castle! Okay, Caroline said it wasn't a castle, just a big mansion, but wasn't it the same thing?

 

Stiles was going to be a princess!

 

She was going to be the most beautiful princess at the ball. That's what her sister said! And she was always right!

 

Even Daddy agreed! At first he seemed unsure, but when she and Caroline used their super special secret puppy dog eyes, he agreed!

 

Even Aunt Liz said yes!

 

Her older sister said they would even go shopping to buy her a real princess dress and a tiara! And all the super accessories!

 

Maybe they would even have the same hairstyles.

 

Stiles wanted a blue dress, like her sisters. And a silver tiara. So they would match. They would be like twins.

 

That's why Stiles got up at 5:36 a.m.

 

Not because she had to. But today was dress day!

 

She hadn't slept anyway. She had tossed and turned all night, hugging her teddy bear. Or rather, her T-Rex, named Gregory, who also had a tiara. Made of a shiny chain and two hair clips. He looked wonderful. Thanks to Caroline's help.

 

Unable to sit still any longer, she jumped out of bed. Today was a day for getting ready and shopping! She couldn't just lie there doing nothing!

 

Tomorrow will be the ball!

 

She was supposed to pick out a dress for the real ball today.

 

She had to get ready.

 

Stiles spent thirty minutes picking out the right socks.

 

(She put on the ones with glittery cars.)

 

When she ran downstairs, only her dad was there, but she was happy anyway because he made her pancakes. And her favorite kind, with chocolate chips!

 

A few minutes later, halfway through her delicious pancakes, Caroline entered the room, still sleepy-eyed.

 

“You're awake now, huh?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe with a cup of tea (?) that her dad had given her.

 

Stiles sat up abruptly.

 

“I can't sleep! My heart is jumping like a rabbit! She put her hand on her heart. “It's jumping and dancing!”

 

Caroline laughed and sat down next to her at the table.

 

“Ready for the trip, Princess?” her dad asked her.

 

“Ready for three hundred hours!” Stiles replied dramatically.

 

“What are you planning today?” the man asked, more to his niece than his daughter, handing the blonde her breakfast as well.

 

“Shopping, duh,” she replied as if it were obvious, making the younger girl laugh. “We have to pick out shoes. And a purse. And... maybe lip gloss? Special for a princess.”

 

Stiles' eyes literally lit up like fireworks.

 

“YES! We're going to have a SISTERS' SHOPPING DAY! And we'll eat waffles! And maybe some pizza. Princesses eat pizza too, right?”

 

Caroline smiled.

 

“If Princess Stiles makes the rules, then of course they do.”

 

 

---

 

 

When they arrived at the mall, Stiles jumped out of the car almost immediately. Caroline barely had time to pull the brakes. She was wearing a white backpack with a rabbit tail and sunglasses, even though it was a cloudy day. Princesses have to be stylish, even when the sun isn't shining.

 

Upon entering, the mall was even bigger than it looked from the outside. It was huge. At least according to Stiles.

 

Everything was so huge. High ceilings, shiny floors, escalators... And SHOPS. A million shops.

 

The girl had been to a shopping mall before. With her mom, dad, or, most often, Caroline. But never one this big. With so many shops! And people!

 

They entered the first store and... it was HEAVEN.

 

The first store was a dress store. The dresses were almost like something out of a fairy tale. The kind for real princesses. There were many dresses on hangers. They were red, pink, lilac, gold, ones that looked like someone had sewn them from the sunset or from bubbles.

 

That's not all! There were also trinkets everywhere. Shoes. Handbags.

 

SO MANY THINGS!!!

 

“I want to have everything just like you! We have to be like TWINS!” she announced seriously as soon as she entered.

 

And so it began.

 

They started with shoes. The first were pure white ballet flats with a bow and beaded fastening. Stasia, of course, made sure several times that they would be as similar as possible to her sister's. Of course, Caroline chose heels, but they were still very similar!

 

Then came the handbag, shiny, with glitter and also beads. This time they were identical. Then... lip gloss. But not just any lip gloss! This lip gloss smelled like raspberries and had blue sparkles!

 

“We'll shine like... like... unicorn clouds!” she exclaimed, applying the lip gloss to herself and... accidentally to Caroline as well. Right on her nose.

 

They laughed so loudly that the cashier had to ask them to be quiet.

 

At the end of their shopping trip, of course, came the most important part. The dress.

 

Stiles first stopped at a purple one. Of course she wanted one like her sister's, but there were so many! How could she choose just one?!

 

“It's calling out to me. It's saying, ‘I'm magic.’”

 

Caroline giggled.

 

“Maybe we should hear what the others have to say?”

 

And so began their grand dress fitting.

 

First, the purple one—it twirled too much (Stiles spun around so long that she almost fell over).

 

Then there was the yellow one, like the sun—but a little too long, Stiles stepped on it and if it weren't for Caroline, she would have almost fallen over.

 

Then there was the pink one with frills—but as she said:

 

“I don't want to be a pink candy. That's not my vibe.” Caroline was delighted and proud of that comment.

 

Then came THE DRESS.

 

Blue. Of course it was. But not just any blue. It was as if someone had created it from snow and sky at the same time. It had small shiny beads and pearls on the sleeves, and the tulle rippled like waves on the shore.

 

Stiles squeezed into it with Caroline's help, stepped in front of the mirror... and fell silent. Caroline chuckled a little under her breath that it was her first time, but Stiles ignored her.

 

“This... this is it. This is me in a fairy tale.”

 

Caroline looked at her and had to look away to keep from crying. Because really, little Stasia looked like pure, innocent magic.

 

And in Caroline's opinion, objectively of course, she was the most beautiful princess who ever lived.

 

 

---

 

 

However, that wasn't the end of their shopping. Because, of course, they already had shoes, a handbag, lip gloss, and, of course, the most important dress, but accessories! Accessories were also important, after all!

 

In addition to the outfit, they chose a delicate silver tiara headband so that everyone would know they were dealing with a princess. Finally, they added a delicate silver necklace with a butterfly and a bracelet with blue beads.

 

Of course, they picked up a few small items for Caroline herself, but Stiles was the star of the show.

 

In the end, they left so laden with bags that the older blonde thanked Katherine for turning her into a vampire and giving her super strength.

 

Before returning home, of course, they couldn't miss out on a final snack—after all, they had spent so much time walking, they deserved it—first waffles with whipped cream and fruit.

 

Then bubble tea—Caroline didn't want any, but Stiles persuaded her. Of course, Stiles chose the flavor “I don't know what it is, but it's blue.” Caroline chose strawberry. Just for balance.

 

Then ice cream. With sprinkles. And a glittery cone. Caroline had vanilla, Stiles had rainbow. Because princesses can have dessert after dessert (or dessert after dessert after dessert).

 

On the way back, however, Caroline began to wonder which side would prevail. And whether her sweet child would be jumping off the walls after their return because of the three desserts, or whether she would immediately collapse and not get up until their departure the next day. She didn't have to wait long for the answer, because halfway home, Stiles sat down in her car seat, hugging her dress in her bag. Caroline knew that look. The girl was tired.

 

“Caroline?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“It was... the best day of my life. Even better than when I found three dollars on the street and thought I was rich.”

 

Caroline looked in the rearview mirror, touched.

 

“This is just the beginning, princess.”

 

Stiles yawned with her whole face but smiled anyway.

 

“In that case... I can't wait to see what happens at the ball. I love you, Princess Caroline.”

 

Caroline looked at her tenderly.

 

“I love you too, Princess Stiles.”

Notes:

Honestly, I'm not really satisfied with this chapter, and I'll probably change it a bit after I finish the whole story, but anyway, I hope you like it.

Chapter 4: Caroline

Summary:

Return to Mystic Falls and prep for the ball

 

So...

 

They were probably about three hours before their scheduled arrival in Mystic Falls, and about eight hours before the ball started, and Caroline was starting to have doubts.

 

Just little ones.

 

But it wasn't like they could turn back. They had been on the plane home for three hours. Their bags were packed, their plans were made, the people involved had been informed. And of course, the dresses were packed, ironed, and currently lying on Caroline's lap. There was no turning back.

 

That didn't mean Caroline wasn't panicking, though.

 

Because she was. Very much so.

 

Literally, the only person who knew that young Stilinski was coming to town with her was her mother. HER MOTHER. Just when Elena and Bonnie picked them up from the airport would they know about the extra, smaller, cuter, and way-too-much-knowing guest.

 

It wasn't that she didn't trust her friends, of course not.

 

But how the hell was she supposed to explain to them that a 6-year-old, 6-YEAR-OLD?! girl knew about the damn supernatural?!

 

She couldn't just say,

 

“Hey girls, you know what's funny? Stiles, my 6-year-old cousin whom you're meeting for the first time, knows about the supernatural because she has a werewolf friend! Funny, isn't it?!”

 

Caroline groaned inwardly, already anticipating a headache.

 

This was going to end really badly.

 

But to be fair, the blond woman herself didn't expect this turn of events when she came to visit her family for the holidays. She also didn't expect to hear that Stiles almost saved a pack of damn werewolves. Nor that this pack would adopt her in a way. Nor that Caroline herself would meet one of the most influential wolf packs.

 

So this vacation wasn't as relaxing as she had expected.

 

If she weren't a vampire, she would already have gray hair.

 

Thankfully, Stiles was sleeping soundly, stretched across two armchairs, her head almost on her lap, and her legs spread out almost like a starfish. At times she snored or mumble some meaningless words, but as soon as they bounced off the ground, she slept like a log, and luckily she didn't have to see her older sister's doubts.

 

However, a promise is a promise. And Caroline had promised, even kneeling down and promising her little sister that she will take her to the ball. That they will both be princesses and, and they will wear beautiful dresses.

 

But okay! She still had three hours to come up with something. And hopefully, during that time, the girl lying almost on top of her would decide to sleep through it. The whole thing.

 

However, that didn't change the fact that she was panicking. A lot.

 

Of course, apart from revealing the extra guest, there were so many things to do! Makeup, hairstyles, changing into those dresses! So many things!

 

But first, they had to survive the airport.

 

 

---

 

 

Caroline's current mental state included screaming. Internally, of course. She wasn't quite at the point of screaming out loud yet.

 

Fortunately, as one of the few positive things that day, their plane arrived right on time.

 

But now everything in her was shaking, her hands were sweating, and she felt like she was about to throw up. Even more so than before.

 

And Stiles-

 

Well, Stiles was walking a few steps ahead of her, like a damn ray of sunshine. Or rather, the sun itself.

 

The girl, with her favorite rabbit backpack on her back, green sunglasses on her nose, and Gregory the dinosaur princess under her arm, walked through the airport as if the whole place belonged to her, with a smile that would probably blind anyone.

 

And as proud and happy as she was with her little sister, Caroline prayed silently that Bonnie and Elena... wouldn't faint.

 

But before it was time for the confrontation, they had to pick up their luggage. A million bags.

 

The plan was for the six-year-old girl to stay in Mystic Falls for at least another week with her cousin and aunt after the ball, and return home later.

 

That's why they had millions of bags.

 

Waiting in front of the conveyor belt, they looked for what might belong to them. Of course, there were also curious questions from the younger princess.

 

“And when the conveyor belt comes back, can we sit on it and pretend to be luggage?” Stiles asked with a serious expression. Quite unexpectedly, and weirdly enough, Caroline was not surprised by the question.

 

“No, because then the security guard will ask us to leave, Aunt Liz will arrive, and you'll only see the ball through the window of a police car.”

 

Unfortunately, of course, as far as the blonde was concerned, the luggage arrived too quickly, and finally the time came.

 

She didn't have to wait long or even look around.

 

Because right there, centrally located at the exit of the arrivals hall, stood two very familiar figures with a sign saying “Welcome back,” both with a certain impatience but also excitement on their faces. Elena looked perfect as always, both in terms of her hairstyle and outfit, and Bonnie, who also looked perfect but at the same time tired. Carolina was almost bursting with nervous energy, but also a little bit of family mischief, wanting to see her friends' reactions.

 

She didn't have to wait long, because even then...

 

They looked in their direction and...

 

They froze.

 

Literally. As if someone had pressed pause on the remote control.

 

Because it wasn't just Caroline.

 

Because they saw her.

 

Stiles.

 

They saw a small creature next to Caroline, who, as soon as she saw them, began waving her hand with a broad smile and called out:

 

“Hi! I'm Stiles, remember me?! But you can call me now Your Highness!” she exclaimed, as if they had known each other forever. “I'll be princess number two at tonight's ball!”

 

And as if someone had tampered with a magic remote control again, both girls woke up. The coffee cup Bonnie had been holding was now on the floor, along with its contents. And Elena raised her eyebrows so high that they almost disappeared under her hair.

 

Stiles didn't wait for questions or answers. She ran up to them and added:

 

“I'm with Caroline! We're going to the ball! I'm going to be a princess! But don't worry, I know everything! I'm prepared!” And more quietly, as if whispering, she added with a theatrical wink. “You know, about the supernatural.”

 

Caroline didn't even try to say anything. Stiles had decided to dig her grave right away, so fine, let her keep digging, nothing could help her now. All she could do was look imploringly at her friends.

 

And they looked at her. At the same time. In silence.

 

“Don't comment,” Caroline muttered, rubbing her temples. “I'll explain everything later...”

 

Bonnie took a deep breath and, as Elena was probably still in shock, was the first to speak. “So... shall we go to the car? I think we have a loooong conversation ahead of us.”

 

Caroline groaned softly. And Stiles, quite content to ignore the girls and their conversation, began talking about the dress.

 

 

---

 

 

The ball was fast approaching, and Caroline's house, where they had decided to get ready, was starting to look more and more like a battlefield with every passing moment. Everything was everywhere. It was pure chaos.

 

Boxes, makeup bags, pins, tights, headbands, and... one lost bracelet, which Bonnie found in the refrigerator, for a reason unknown to anyone, were scattered everywhere.

 

Caroline was rolling up her dress, checking every seam, as if she were about to walk the red carpet. And maybe she felt a little like that. She wanted to be perfect, for herself and for Stiles.

 

Speaking of Stiles, the girl was sitting on the table. Literally on the table. In her underwear, star-patterned tights, and rollers in her hair, her mouth agape, because Bonnie, also almost ready, was trying to untangle them from her hair. Somewhere else in the corner by the mirror, Elena was trying on earrings and twirling around, almost ready in her dress, checking how much it swirled.

 

“Hey! I want earrings too!” squealed Stiles, swinging her legs back and forth.

 

“You have clips, princess,” Caroline reminded her. “We're not piercing your ears. Not yet.”

 

“Okay,” sighed the girl. “But only if I get glitter on my cheeks too!”

 

And so it began.

 

Glitter.

 

Lots of glitter.

 

Elena sprayed Stiles' hair and Caroline's ends. Bonnie did a mini-makeup job. Stiles' lips shone like strawberry candy. Her cheeks had a delicate sheen. And the tiara... the tiara looked like it was made of real pearls.

 

Caroline looked at her and felt something tighten inside her. Because the little girl who not so long ago had learned to walk and run in her dinosaur pajamas now looked like something out of a fairy tale.

 

But one thing was missing. The most important thing, of course.

 

The dress.

 

Stiles jumped off the table like a monkey with the dress, then began circling the room, holding a long, blue and white dress that almost touched the floor.

 

“It looks like WATER. OR WAVES!”

 

Caroline laughed and called out to her sister,

 

“Okay! Staśka, please go and get changed now!”

 

And in a moment, the girl disappeared into the bathroom. As expected, after a while, one of the girls was also called to help her, and somehow it happened to be Bonnie.

 

And after a few moments, they came out, and Caroline almost burst into tears at the sight before her.

 

In front of her stood her princess Stasia - with pink cheeks, lips coated with delicate lip gloss, and eyes that shone like the morning. Her brown hair now flowed in waves along her shoulders, and on her head she wore a pearl-encrusted tiara that matched the whole outfit. Her blue and white dress flowed in waves along the skirt like real waves, with a delicate addition of hanging pearls. The top was also a combination of white and blue, from a slightly turtleneck cover to full puffed sleeves. The girl looked simply perfect. Like pure magic.

 

“Ready,” said Bonnie.

 

Stiles looked in the mirror.

 

She froze.

 

“Is that me...?”

 

“That's you,” whispered Caroline.

 

“That's... I look like a fairy and a princess met and... conjured me up.”

 

Caroline nodded, fighting back tears.

 

“You're a real princess.”

 

“Oh. My. God,” Elena suddenly interrupted. “She... looks like a real princess.”

 

“What, did you think I was joking?” Caroline muttered.

 

Bonnie laughed.

 

“I'm starting to worry she's going to steal the whole ball.”

 

Stiles laughed with all his might.

 

“And you will be my ladies-in-waiting! Stand by!”

 

All three laughed.

 

And Caroline really relaxed for the first time since morning.

 

Because Stiles was happy.

 

And the night was going to be hers.

 

“Time for the dance!”

 

Caroline took her hand.

 

“Time for a fairy tale.”

 

Notes:

Hi~~
I'm writing this so you know. So basically, Elena and Bonnie knew about Stiles and her entire existence, they just didn't know she was coming to town.
But yes! I hope you enjoyed the chapter ❤

Chapter 5: FANART!

Summary:

NOT A CHAPTER!
Just fanarts I drew when I was bored.

 

AND

 

Chapter 6: Klaus

Summary:

Very, very jealous (and a bit insecure) Klaus

Notes:

I know, i know this update was really quick, but I probably won't have time for a while, so I don't know when I'll be able to update again or finish the work.
I'll say right away that the entire work will be 8, 7 without fan art, chapters but I plan to add a few epilogues or other extra chapters.

 

“Caroline will be attending the ball.” That wasn't what Klaus expected to hear when he returned home after a few hours' break. He had expected more shouting and complaining from Rebekah, but he wasn't planning to complain himself.

 

Especially since his sister's words calmed his uncertainty about the absence of the woman he was in love with.

 

Yes, he was no longer afraid to admit that he was in love with Caroline Forbes.

 

She'll come. She'll be at the ball. She'll wear the dress he sent her.

 

Blue was her color.

 

She looked beautiful in blue.

 

He loved her in blue-

 

“With a date.”

 

what.

 

What?

 

“What?” he growled, and his voice, strange even to his own ears, sounded so damn uncertain, or maybe it was tension? Did he hear right? With a date? With who the hell?!

 

“Yep. Bonnie texted that they just picked Caroline up from the airport. And she didn’t come alone.” And if only, if only Klaus had paid attention to his sister's face for just a moment, instead of his own jealous thoughts drifting toward Caroline, he would have seen that amused, scheming smile and the twinkle in her eye that said only one thing: the blonde in front of him was hiding something. Something that was very funny to her. And most likely not so much for her brother.

 

But he didn't pay attention. From the moment he heard the words, “And she didn't come alone,” something inside him broke. Or maybe it was already broken when Rebekah informed him that Caroline would be arriving with a companion?

 

He wasn't sure exactly.

 

But something broke. Maybe it was a kind of calmness? Or some strange certainty that she would come only for him? The illusion that maybe he had a chance? Or maybe it was the unspoken belief that if he invited her, if he prepared everything perfectly, if he tried hard enough... she would come to him. Just for him. Alone. But no. She flew in with someone.

 

Someone.

 

Someone who wasn't him.

 

Klaus was silent. The silence that followed Rebecca's words was thick and heavy. Tense, even. Like fog that fell on everything around, suffocating the remnants of hope and turning them into a sour taste of bitterness on the tongue.

 

“Who?” he finally asked. His voice was quiet, rough, controlled with effort. Too much effort for someone who was usually in control of every situation. Someone who acted first and asked questions later.

 

Rebekah shrugged, turning demonstratively toward the sideboard, as if she had suddenly remembered that she needed to rearrange the vase.

 

“I don't know,” she replied too quickly. Too evasively. Too innocently.

 

Klaus narrowed his eyes. There was something in her voice... something too light. Too casual. As if she was enjoying all the commotion. As if she wanted him to get upset.

 

And in fact, Rebekah could barely suppress a smile.

 

She knew who it was. She hadn't been given any specific information, but she knew. And she also knew how Klaus would react if he found out. But she wasn't going to make it easy for him. Not after he'd spent the last few hours wandering around the forest, hiding and refusing to help her with the final preparations. Let him suffer. Serves him right.

 

Klaus paced nervously around the living room. He couldn't stand still any longer. The image of Caroline, smiling, entering the ball on someone else's arm, gnawed at his mind like poison. He tried to convince himself that it was nothing. That she was free, after all. That she owed him nothing. That they hadn't really promised each other anything, they didn't have titles like “partners” or even those silly childish ones like “boyfriend/girlfriend.”

 

But these were just stupid excuses. Worthless. Like a shadow that doesn't protect you from the sun.

 

“Is it someone... significant?” he muttered, barely audibly.

 

“Maybe,” Rebekah replied, drawing out the word in a way that almost threw him off balance. “Maybe not. You know, Caroline always had a weakness for handsome guys with good manners and blue eyes.”

 

Klaus narrowed his eyes, stopping mid-step. She knew. She knew more than she was saying. And she was doing it on purpose.

 

She wanted to piss him off.

 

“Rebekah,” he growled, his voice now deep and harsh, like a blade of ice. “If you're joking...”

 

“Oh, brother,” she interrupted him in a tone that was too sweet, turning to him with an innocent smile. “Me? Never.”

 

But there was something in her eyes that he couldn't decipher. Something between amusement and provocation.

 

Klaus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His heart, which had been unmoved and cold for centuries, was now beating wildly. The crack that had appeared in him at the sound of that one piece of news began to widen. The jealousy that had been only a shadow in his soul until now poured out of him like a wave of lava. Slowly. Mercilessly.

 

He imagined her. In the dress he had chosen for her. Blue, silk, floor-length, with a delicate neckline that perfectly emphasized the line of her collarbones. The sight that was supposed to be his reward was now going to be someone else's property. Someone else would lead her into the hall. Someone else would dance the first dance with her.

 

Someone else would look at her the way he wanted to look at her.

 

The way he was supposed to look at her.

 

And him? He would be left somewhere on the sidelines. With a wound he couldn't show.

 

“So...” he said, drawing out the words like poison, “Caroline will be at the ball with someone. Interesting.”

 

“Mhm,” Rebekah nodded with exaggerated indifference, sitting down on the sofa and starting to flip through the pages of an old magazine, pretending that the subject no longer interested her. But her eyes, glancing at her brother from behind the pages every now and then, followed his every move.

 

Klaus clenched his hands into fists. If she thought he would let it go, she was sorely mistaken. If Caroline thought she could disappear for so long and then come back with someone and expect everything to be fine... Well. She was in for a surprise.

 

Because he wasn't just any man. He was the damn Niklaus Mikaelson. And he was going to make this ball unforgettable. For her. For them. And for anyone who dared to touch what belonged to him.

 

Even if he didn't yet know how much.

 

 

---

 

 

His unfortunate complaints and whining quickly came to an end when Rebekah practically dragged Klaus into the dressing room. Literally. First with threats. Then with persuasion. And finally, by throwing a perfectly fitted suit jacket with silk trim in his face and threatening to burn his favorite sketchbook if he didn't move.

 

“Get dressed or I'll burn your sketchbook. I don't have all evening, Nik,” she snapped, fixing her makeup in front of the large mirror that took up almost the entire wall in the living room.

 

“I have to look like a peacock just to see her with someone else?” he muttered, almost trembling with rage at his own words. He hated this emotion in himself. Weakness. And that's what Caroline Forbes did to him. But he also knew she was right. He also knew he looked like a wreck. And although he wouldn't admit it out loud, especially not to Rebekah, he wanted to look good. For Caroline.

 

“You're supposed to look like a damn Mikaelson. Regal. Commanding. And yes, better than that ‘other one,’” Rebekah replied dryly, giving him a look full of venomous pity. He almost growled at her again because of that look.

 

But he knew he had no choice. He knew that very well. Klaus was damn stubborn, but even more vain. If he was going to compete with someone, he had to look like a damn god.

 

However, all the preparations took longer than he had planned. Everything had to be perfect. He had to be perfect.

 

He dressed slowly, with surgical precision. Every movement was almost controlled. Every detail had to be perfect. The black tuxedo, tailor-made, fit his body perfectly. The white shirt was flawless. A watch that once belonged to some wealthy English lord, fastened tightly around his wrist. And finally, a small detail. A blue pocket square. The same shade as Caroline's dress.

 

When he finally stood ready in front of the mirror, for a moment he saw not himself, but a beast disguised as a king. A man with a plan. With lust in his eyes.

 

Going downstairs, ready, he finally looked at all the preparations his sister had made.

 

The Mikaelson events were never just anything basic. And this one was supposed to be more than just an elegant event. Everything looked perfect. From the glasses to the choice of flowers to the lighting. The villa was ready. The guests were due to arrive one by one at any moment.

 

Looking at it all, he had to admit that Rebekah knew how to throw a ball. And even if he thought the theme itself was too childish, everything looked like the dances of days gone by.

 

But he couldn't think about it. He couldn't focus on the limousines slowly pulling up to the estate or the cars full of guests. He couldn't focus on the music played by the small orchestra that had also been hired. He just couldn't.

 

He couldn't stop thinking about it. About her. And about him.

 

Whoever he was.

 

Jealousy was like a thorn. Stuck deep inside. The more he tried to pull it out, the more it bled. The thought of Caroline laughing with another man made his teeth grind. And when he tried to imagine them together, on his dance floor, in his house - something inside him trembled. Something dark. Something brutal.

 

So he waited.

 

For her.

 

The minutes dragged on like hours. Every door that opened. Every step on the marble stairs. Every gust of wind as the double doors opened. It all seemed to irritate his nerves even more.

 

However, his behavior did not go unnoticed. Rebekah noticed it. His sister circled around him like a predator around its wounded prey. She pretended to be indifferent, but her glances were too frequent, too alert. She knew something was going to happen. And although she had played with his jealousy at first, now she was beginning to be cautious, alert. Because she knew her brother, and she had never seen him so jealous, but despite that, she knew one thing: she knew that a jealous Klaus was a dangerous Klaus.

 

Unpredictable Klaus.

 

But with every passing minute and second that she didn't show up, he only became more irritated and nervous.

 

He saw everyone.

 

Klaus stood at the top of the stairs, striking a controlled and seemingly indifferent pose. His shoulders were relaxed, his gaze cool, almost bored. But inside? Inside, he was a storm. A volcano. Anticipation. His heart beat faster with each new guest, with each glance that wasn't hers.

 

But she still hadn't come.

 

Matt Donovan arrived with a brunette. Damon and Stefan with their ever-alert gaze. Tyler, who looked at him like an angry dog but said nothing. Many familiar and less familiar guests, old friends and other supernatural guests.

 

But not her.

 

Not Caroline.

 

And then. Then, when he had had enough, when he was about to turn around and throw it all away-

 

“They're here,” Rebekah said with a triumphant gleam in her eye, standing next to him. “Elena and Bonnie.”

 

And indeed. The two girls were the first to enter. Elena in pastel pink, Bonnie in deep burgundy. They looked stunning, everyone's eyes turned to them. They were beautiful, young, confident. Like stars in the middle of the sky.

 

Klaus didn't move an inch.

 

He didn't look at them.

 

He didn't care.

 

Because then the door opened again.

 

And, as if time had stopped, she walked in.

 

Caroline Forbes.

 

And that was the end. The end of the world. The end of reason. The end of everything he had pretended to have under control until then.

 

Because there she stood. In that dress. In his dress.

 

She wasn't just beautiful. She was otherworldly. In a blue dress, the very one he had sent her. Blue like the purest waves. Smooth, shiny, flowing over her body like water. It emphasized her waist and the delicate movement of her shoulders. Her hair was loose, but styled like gentle waves. And that necklace. With the diamond he had sent her. She was wearing it. She was wearing it all.

 

But that wasn't what made Klaus stop breathing.

 

It wasn't her beauty. Which in itself made him hesitate.

 

Not her smile. Which could light up any room.

 

Not her straight posture. Like a ballerina's.

 

No, that wasn't it. His breath was taken away by the sight of the person standing next to her.

 

Not a man.

 

Not a former boyfriend.

 

Not a random companion.

 

Just...

 

A little girl.

 

Tiny. She looked about five or six years old. She walked almost like a real princess. In a white and blue dress, almost as similar to the blonde herself. She had dirty dark blonde hair loose and flowing like waves over her shoulders, and she held Caroline's hand with such confidence, as if the world were ending and the only thing that could save her was that hand. But the certainty in her eyes?

 

It was striking. Despite signs of uncertainty, the child walked as if the whole place was about to fall to its knees before her, but not with that annoying arrogance or spoiled attitude. Only with guardedness.

 

And Klaus?

 

Klaus watched. He could only watch.

 

His whole world, that chaos built on speculation, jealousy, and uncertainty, was completely shaken.

 

This was not a man.

 

This was not competition.

 

This was... something completely different.

 

And then Klaus, for the first time in a very long time, felt that feeling.

 

Not jealousy.

 

Not anger.

 

Not disappointment.

 

Just pure, paralyzing amazement.

 

Who was this girl?

 

Why did Caroline bring her?

 

Why...

 

Notes:

OKAY, I KNOW! I know you probably hate me and want more reactions and moments from ball, but it's getting closer! I promise!
I still hope you enjoyed it, and thank you all for your wonderful comments, I loooooooooove them ❤

Chapter 7: Stiles

Summary:

So... conversation, and Stiles likes to adopt people? Creatures? Other beings?

 

Stiles sat on the living room floor, like a little queen surrounded by her personal army of makeup bags, hair clips, and broken eyeliner pencils, which she had appropriated with complete satisfaction. It was sooooo much.

 

She couldn't believe that just this morning she had been in her bed under her starry quilt, and now in a few hours she was going to the ball!

 

But first, as Caroline mentioned, they had to talk. Stiles didn't quite understand what there was to talk about, nor did she notice that since revealing that she knew about the supernatural, there had been a certain tension around her.

 

It wasn't a big deal that she knew, duh. Everyone knew.

 

Besides, the girl would rather focus on clothes. And makeup. And hair. And so many other things, MANY things.

 

However, the older girls sitting next to her did not share her thoughts. And they hadn't even started talking yet. Caroline, with a slight sigh of fatigue and absolute resignation, arranged another pair of tights, which Stiles, of course, considered “not princess-like enough.” Bonnie, sitting on the couch, massaged her temples, as if she already sensed that she would soon have to look for wine. And Elena... Elena was holding a cup of coffee in her hands and staring at the wall as if wondering which princess was the best, Snow White or Sleeping Beauty? According to Stiles, Sleeping Beauty because there was a dragon in her fairy tale, but that was because Stiles LOVED dragons.

 

Stiles thought dragons were the coolest. They were big and colorful, they could fly and even breathe fire. So of course dragons were the coolest. Stiles thought...

 

“So... let me get this straight,” Bonnie rudely interrupted Stiles’ dragon musings, leaning toward Caroline. “She... knows everything?”

 

Stiles lifted her head from the floor.

 

“She's here. And no, not everything. I don't know your phone passwords.” Yet.

 

Caroline almost fell over in her seat.

 

“Stiles...” she began slowly, with that voice that said, “you're about to give me a heart attack.” Stiles didn't quite understand what she meant. She was going to get those passwords anyway.

 

“What?” the girl shrugged. "I know about vampires. And werewolves. And witches. And hybrids. And—do dragons exist? CAROLINE! Can we adopt a dragon!?"

 

There was silence.

 

Complete silence.

 

Only Bonnie very, very slowly put her cup down on the table.

 

“Dragons?” Elena whispered, more to Caroline than anyone else.

 

“She's a little obsessed,” her friend whispered back.

 

“HEY! I can hear you!” Stiles protested, hugging his stuffed dinosaur with a tiara on its head.

 

Bonnie looked at Caroline with an expression that said only one thing: Please say something before I start screaming or laughing.

 

“It's not what you think...” Caroline finally broached the subject, already tired of herself. “I didn't know either until I arrived. In short, she's been friends with a werewolf since she was little. Then one night she saved her family from the fire. And later, she apparently decided to adopt a family of wolves. Or did they adopt her?”

 

“I ADOPTED THEM!”

 

“Mhm,” Bonnie muttered as if it all made sense, when in reality it was even more twisted.

 

“But I didn't see it at first!” Stiles added quickly. "I just heard my dad talking about it. And I overheard him talking to Aunt Talia. But I didn't peek! Because that's rude. Then my friend Cora showed me! Did you know that wolves have very soft fur, almost like cats? And they like to cuddle! Aunt Talia is the best cuddler! Because she's big and soft, and her fur is a really pretty color."

 

Elena finally spoke, cautiously:

 

“So you... just... know about the supernatural. And... you cuddle with wolves?”

 

Stiles just shrugged as if cuddling and adopting dangerous werewolves was the most normal thing in the world. In a way, it was. Cora had always been her best friend. Sure, she had Scott, and later Isaac, but Cora was like her sister. Best friends forever and ever. Their relationship grew even stronger after Stiles literally saved the Hale family from a house fire. The girl, her father, and even more so the Hales, still didn't quite know how it happened or why, but on the day of the accident, she woke up from a terrible nightmare as if she already knew what was going on, and it tormented her almost all day. Almost begging her father, she asked him to take her to the wolf family. Fortunately, they arrived almost on time, the flames were still to be extinguished, and the family was saved.

 

Stiles still didn't quite understand what happened next, what caused the fire, or even why she had that strange feeling, but she was happy about the latter. She saved her friend, and her family! And she adopted new people! Wolves. Creatures?

 

“The day I met the werewolves was the third best day of my life.”

 

“And the first and second?” Bonnie asked, unable to resist.

 

“The first was when Caroline let me use her lipstick. The second was when I ate five waffles and didn't throw up,” she said proudly.

 

Caroline sighed. Elena looked at her with a clear smile that said this child is going to wear you out.

 

But Caroline just smiled.

 

“I know it's... unusual. But she has an extraordinary brain. And... well. Secrets attract her like trinkets. I couldn't protect her from this world. Neither could Noah. So we chose to prepare her.”

 

Stiles sat up straight on the floor with a proud look on her face.

 

“And now I'm ready for anything! Even hunters. Or the Mikaelson ball. Which is pretty much the same thing.”

 

Bonnie snorted. Elena couldn't help but giggle.

 

“Admit it,” Bonnie said, still looking at Caroline. “You'd rather have her with you than leave her with anyone else.”

 

Caroline nodded quietly, with a soft smile.

 

“Definitely.”

 

Stiles, completely unaware of the emotion swirling around her like a cloud of glitter, went back to her reflection in the mirror and adjusting her headband-tiara.

 

Because she didn't have time for drama.

 

The ball was about to start.

 

And princesses had to look perfect.

 

 

---

 

 

Their so-called “carriage,” because of course they needed a carriage, turned out to be a large black car, sent courtesy of, as Caroline muttered under her breath, most likely Klaus or Rebekah. Stiles, however, was adamant. It wasn't just a car. It was a carriage. Period. That's what she said, and that's how it was going to be. It was just a modern carriage. Besides, she didn't care how they got to the ball. They were already on their way to the ball!

 

THE BALL!

 

A ball straight out of a fairy tale!

 

Stiles, of course, couldn't sit still. She had the feeling that as soon as they arrived and got out of the car, everything would be different. She spun around in her seat like a carousel, constantly adjusting her tiara and asking Caroline if everything looked okay. Her hands clutched her glittery purse tightly, and her eyes sparkled like two crystals.

 

“Will we be the first?” she asked for the fourth time.

 

“Maybe not the first, but definitely the most sparkling,” Caroline replied with a smile.

 

“Will there be other princesses there?”

 

“Yes, lots of them. But only one with a tiara and socks like yours.”

 

Stiles looked down at her feet. She was wearing the most beautiful tights in the world—white, star-patterned, with glitter. Perfect for dancing. And running away, if necessary.

 

When the car stopped in front of the Mikaelson residence, the girl literally held her breath. No, not because she was afraid. But because...

 

She was amazed.

 

Because the Mikaelson residence looked almost like a palace from her dreams!

 

The house, no, the PALACE in front of them was almost like something out of a movie. Like the one she saw once when Caroline let her watch a fairy tale about a princess and... she couldn't remember the rest, BUT WOWWW! There were high stairs, lights like stars, and the music... the music sounded like magic. Seriously. It wasn't just tinkling. It was real magic.

 

She ALREADY wanted to get out, she ALREADY wanted to go in!

 

Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline got out first. In Stasia opinion, each of them looked like a dream. It was as if each of them had stepped straight out of one of the old picture books Stiles had seen at her grandmother's house. But for the girl, her sister was always the most beautiful. Caroline, with her long blonde curls falling softly on her shoulders and her long, iridescent dress, shone as if to dazzle everyone and even embarrass the Queen of England. She looked so beautiful that the girl forgot to breathe.

 

But then it was her turn.

 

Caroline helped Stiles unbuckle his seatbelt, then took her hand and helped her out of the car. As she got out, she tried to keep her balance because the dress was long and she was small. But she managed. And then... then she felt it.

 

That everything was changing. Stiles' eyes were wide open and she didn't breathe for a few seconds.

 

“It's a castle... It's a REAL CASTLE!” she whispered in awe.

 

“Technically, it's just a mansion. But yes. A castle,” Caroline smiled, squeezing her hand slightly.

 

The girl adjusted the tiara on her head. Her lips trembled with excitement.

 

She took a deep breath.

 

“Ready?” Caroline asked.

 

Stiles looked at the palace door. Then at Caroline. Then back at the door.

 

“No. But let's go.”

 

And they went. They took their first step toward the grand doors.

 

The red carpet beneath their feet was soft as a cloud. The doors to the mansion opened with slow grace. Somewhere, someone in the orchestra changed the tone, or maybe it just seemed that way because the air suddenly stopped.

 

It was crowded inside. But at the same time, it was even more beautiful than outside. The corridors looked like something out of a fairy tale - mirrors, lights, the scent of flowers, carpets, as if the whole place had been dressed in magic. And after a moment... they entered the ballroom.

 

And then everything stopped for a moment.

 

Guests in expensive dresses and suits, dancing, talking, laughing, with glasses full of red wine or... blood, because they were vampires, duh. Everywhere there was light, music, gold, and glass.

 

And everyone was looking at them. Seriously. Everyone. Adults, young people, beautiful people, and some who looked a little too serious were standing there, but they were looking at her. At her and Caroline. But mainly at her! At Stiles Stilinski, princess number two! She was really at the ball!

 

And then - voices.

 

“Who's that?”

 

“Is that...?”

 

“God, did she really come with a baby?”

 

Everyone was looking at them.

 

Everyone was talking about them.

 

As if judging their every move.

 

But Caroline, of course, didn't stop.

 

And Stiles... walked beside her like a true princess. With her head held high. And determination in her eyes, clutching her sister's hand tightly. She was a PRINCESS! Princesses weren't afraid of anything, she kept telling Caroline.

 

And she believed her older sister. Always.

 

“We're going to this ball together. You and me. I don't care what anyone thinks or says. You are my princess.”

 

Caroline had told her that the day before the ball, and Stiles trusted her and knew that she would always be Princess Caroline. Stiles was Princess Caroline's princess, and Caroline was Stasi's princess. Always!

 

That's why she didn't have to be afraid of anything or anyone! Because they would protect each other!

 

 

---

 

 

Stiles' first impression of Klaus was that he was a weird vampire. A werewolf. A hybrid?

 

Klaus was weird. And yes, he was weird, but she like weird people.

 

When she noticed him standing in the shadows like... a shadow herself, she would say. A suit perfect for a prince. An intense gaze. But his hair was a little messy, as if combed with his fingers, so that took away some of his princely points, in Stiles' opinion. But his eyes...

 

In a second, his eyes stopped looking at anyone but Caroline. And maybe her, but that was more out of shock.

 

And that's why her second impression, or just the thought of him, was that she was going to adopt him.

 

She was going to adopt Klaus Mikaelson, + maybe his whole family, and no one and nothing was going to stop her.

 

Nothing.

 

No one.

 

No way.

 

END OF STORY!

 

But first... she was going to have fun! She would dance beautiful dances. Sing beautiful songs. Eat great food. And meet new people. IT WILL BE AWESOME!

 

Notes:

So, yeeeey, another chapter. OK, I know it's still not quite the ball, but...

The last chapter (not the last one, because I still have the epilogues) will be long, I'll try my best. But well, I hope you enjoyed it ❤

Chapter 8: Ball night

Summary:

Ball night. Stiles charms everyone, it's beautiful, and it's a little bit Klaroline too.

Notes:

So... thats it. The end.

 

The Mikaelson balls have always been grand events.

 

For centuries, despite uncertainty from some quarters, namely Mikael, these events were considered a symbol of the highest aristocracy, and even almost legendary among the elites of the supernatural world.

 

It wasn't just about the grandeur and splendor, but something more. Something almost impossible to put into words. Something that made everyone present feel part of something bigger than themselves.

 

It wasn't just about the grandeur and splendor, but something more. Something almost impossible to put into words. Something that made everyone present feel part of something bigger, almost holy.

 

They also always looked so amazing and opulent.

 

One glance at the facade of the mansion, lit by thousands of lights, was enough to understand that this was no ordinary evening. Guests pushed through doors and windows just to get in for a minute. An invitation to the Mikaelsons' ball was like a seal of approval from the gods themselves. It was prestige in itself.

 

And this time was no different.

 

And although the event was announced almost overnight, suddenly, without much fanfare or prior rumors, it nevertheless spread throughout the supernatural world. It was whispered about in witches' salons, vampire clubs, and even among immortals, who rarely took an interest in anything that happened on the surface of the earth.

 

The preparations themselves were a grand spectacle.

 

It took several days to send out the invitations, hand-calligraphed on the most expensive paper. Decorating the estate, ordering the right food, not only for humans, choosing the orchestra, clothes, jewelry, and other decorations. Everything, absolutely everything, had to look perfect.

 

That was Rebekah Mikaelson's demand, and no one dared to oppose her.

 

And it must be admitted, that's how it turned out.

 

Entering the grand ballroom of their estate in Mystic Falls, the weight of centuries and the power of their heritage could almost be felt on one's skin. Wealth and power, invisible but palpable almost like a scent, hung in the air. There was something beautiful about it, but also terrifying.

 

And yet it was supposed to be just a princess-themed ball.

 

However, the entire decor contradicted that “just.”

 

Multicolored satin fabrics hung from the ceiling, creating waves as if floating on an invisible wind. Hand-woven silk carpets from lands that had long since ceased to exist covered the floors. Gold, silver, and even pearl pendants hung from every corner, reflecting the light in an almost mesmerizing way. The villa, usually cold and quiet, had turned into something more like a fairy-tale land or a place from legends written in forgotten languages.

 

And on this night - on this night, the ball was in full swing.

 

The crystal chandeliers shone like enchanted constellations, casting a warm, slightly honey-colored light on the marble columns and velvet curtains. The sound of slender glasses resembled bells in the wind, and the music flowed through the room like the scent of memories, delicate, almost ethereal. Dresses swirled like rose petals, slippers tapped the floor to the rhythm of an immortal melody, and magic... magic was everywhere.

 

But what surprised everyone the most was not the food, not the guests, not the decorations, and not even the music.

 

No.

 

What stunned everyone was her.

 

Princess Stasia.

 

For everyone, literally everyone, the appearance of the six-year-old human girl was the biggest shock.

 

This included the host family, the Mikaelsons, themselves.

 

The girl appeared suddenly at the door, holding her older sister's hand, who was equally beautiful and elegant in an unobvious way. Dressed in a simple but disturbingly beautiful dress, with her hair flowing down her shoulders, she looked like a character from a children's fairy tale.

 

However, the shock did not last long.

 

At first, as soon as they entered and began greeting others, something changed. It was as if the air in the room had become denser, almost heavier.

 

As if time had stopped for a split second.

 

However, it did not last long, because after a moment, the girl stole almost all the attention of those gathered.

 

Not with aggression, not with theatricality. With something completely different.

 

Something pure. Something profound. As if everyone was drawn to her by a strange, magical force. The guests made way for her, not out of fear or compulsion, but out of an inner need.

 

They couldn't take their eyes off her.

 

As if something in her reminded them of something long forgotten.

 

Something that existed before power, before immortality, before pride.

 

Something that tasted of childhood, candlelight, and fairy tales whispered by the fireplace.

 

Something completely untainted by any evil.

 

And her older sister, Caroline, currently standing with a glass of champagne by one of the columns covered in soft, pale cream fabric, looked at her with a mixture of amusement, amazement, and something that could be called sisterly pride.

 

Did she realize that some of the most dangerous creatures in the world were in the room? Yes.

 

And would she unleash hell on earth if anyone so much as touched a hair on her sister's head? Absolutely and unconditionally, yes.

 

But even though her head was still full of worries, she trusted that Stiles wouldn't get into trouble. At least not now. The child was too fascinated by everything to cause or get involved in any trouble.

 

As for the girl herself, her petite figure spinning in the middle of the room, wearing a tiara tilted as if weighed down by the burden of all that princess responsibility, was the embodiment of chaos and charm at the same time.

 

“Caroline, she's enchanted the whole room,” Bonnie whispered, approaching her with a half-full glass in her hand, her smile betraying something between disbelief and delight.

 

At first, when Bonnie saw the extra guest who had arrived with Caroline, she almost crossed herself. But the very thought of letting a child into such dangerous company made her feel hot. And yet, looking now at how Stiles charmed many powerful supernatural beings, Elena couldn't help but think it was a brilliant idea.

 

“Besides, I never thought you could get a vampire to talk about unicorns,” she added, raising her eyebrows and sipping her champagne as if she needed a moment to digest what she had witnessed.

 

“She does this every day at breakfast,” Caroline sighed, turning the glass slightly in her hand as if there was more to it than just a sparkling drink. “Yesterday she tried to convince me that monsters under the bed have their own unions.”

 

“Do they?” Elena asked, unable to hide her amusement. Sipping her cocktail, she burst out laughing.

 

Yes, Elena was really starting to enjoy the events with Stiles in the lead role.

 

“According to her, yes,” Caroline nodded. “They have coffee breaks, membership fees, and a ban on biting children after 9 p.m. Except on weekends.”

 

The girls giggled as they watched Stiles approach the group of serious, distinguished vampires, pull something shiny out of his pocket, and present it with all the solemnity of a royal medal. And what was even funnier? These vampires were seriously interested in it.

 

“She didn't cast a spell,” Caroline said quietly, more to herself than to her friends. Her gaze was soft, as if her thoughts had wandered far away for a moment. “She just reminded them that magic... isn't a spell. It's something you feel. Something you remember from childhood.”

 

“Or something you carry in your pocket with your jelly beans,” added Bonnie, watching as Stiles continued to proudly show off his plastic tooth and explain with absolute seriousness to the assembled crowd that “it's a badge of honor, earned in battle with the monster under the bed.”

 

Laughter, genuine and sincere, swept through the room like a warm summer breeze.

 

It was light, uncontrollable, human, completely out of place in the distinguished atmosphere of the ball, but at the same time... perfectly fitting. As if this moment was what everyone had been waiting for. It was, in a way, quite relaxing.

 

And then came the moment that, if only someone had written it down, would easily have become legendary.

 

From the other end of the room, where the flickering lights of the chandelier reflected off the marble floor, Stiles, dancing and giggling, was not afraid to approach anyone. As if she were the hostess of the entire event.

 

As if it were her ballroom.

 

Her music.

 

Her fairy tale.

 

The guests smiled, stepped aside, and she gracefully slipped out of the protocol, greeting everyone in turn with childlike enthusiasm and confidence.

 

And then she looked at him again.

 

Klaus Mikaelson.

 

The owner of this estate. The host. The ruler not only of this night, but of this entire reality. He stood slightly in the shadows, with his eternal, slightly sarcastic half-smile and a gaze that saw more than he said. And Stiles?

 

Stiles wasn't afraid of anything.

 

And certainly not of anyone!

 

So, of course, being the brave princess that she was, she moved forward, her back straight and her head held high, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

 

Stiles was approaching Klaus Mikaelson.

 

Just like that.

 

Without a hint of fear. Without a stutter. As if walking across the ballroom straight to one of the most dangerous immortals in the supernatural world was something completely natural.

 

There was not a hint of hesitation in her. Just a slightly raised head, a determined step, and a flutter of her tiara, which still did not sit perfectly. When she stopped right in front of him, she looked up, wrinkled her nose slightly, and raised her eyebrows.

 

“So you're the big bad wolf, huh?” she asked, her voice betraying neither fear nor distance. Pure directness. “The famous hybrid everyone's talking about?”

 

Klaus Mikaelson looked at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. He was silent for a moment, analyzing her as he usually analyzed his enemies—with attention, coolness, and a touch of boredom, yet somewhere inside he couldn't help but feel a little warmth. After all, she was Caroline's younger sister. But looking at her, he could only see that there was something in her eyes that he didn't recognize.

 

Cheeky honesty.

 

Childlike truth.

 

No one had looked at him like that in a very long time.

 

“So they say,” he replied finally, tilting his head slightly, trying to hide his amusement.

 

“Since you're the host,” she began, crossing her arms over her chest, “it would be appropriate to say hello. As befits a prince. But you didn't say hello to us. That was very rude.”

 

Klaus raised his other eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

 

Yes, he hadn't heard such insolence directed at him in a long time, especially from a child.

 

“Yes,” she confirmed seriously. When she nodded, she moved her whole body, from the top of her tiara to her toes in her slippers. “But I'll make an exception for you. I am Princess Stasia. Caroline's younger sister.” 

 

She extended her hand with complete seriousness and even curtsied slightly, as if she were a real princess signing a peace treaty. “And you are Klaus Mikaelson. It's nice to meet you.”

 

Klaus looked at her for several long seconds.

 

He didn't answer.

 

He didn't have to.

 

“Nice to meet you, Your Highness,” he bowed slightly, and something flashed in his eyes... softness? Maybe a little shock? Emotion? Or maybe even respect? It's hard to say. But when the girl turned on her heel with a smile and announced:

 

“Great. We've introduced ourselves. Now you're going to dance with me.”

 

The whole room seemed to... freeze.

 

Almost literally.

 

The murmur of conversation died down. Figures that had been moving before now stood almost motionless, like stone. Everyone looked toward the center of the room, where the most dangerous creature in the world had just been asked to dance by a six-year-old.

 

No one - for centuries - had ever spoken to Niklaus Mikaelson that way.

 

No one.

 

(Except maybe Caroline. So apparently it ran in the family.)

 

And this girl... didn't even blink. She didn't accept opposition, confirmation, or disapproval. She just walked up, grabbed one of his hands, quite confidently for someone who barely reached his waist, and started pulling him onto the dance floor. As if he weighed nothing. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.

 

Klaus looked at her, then at the crowd, then back at her. He looked like someone had invited him to watch a cartoon about ponies at four in the morning.

 

But before he could say anything, Stiles was already leading him away.

 

“Stand up,” she ordered, pointing to the marble floor. “Just so my feet fit on yours. Because I'm brilliant, but not so brilliant that I won't step on your foot.”

 

Klaus, who had countless battles, betrayals, bloody alliances, and times when dancing meant political declarations under his belt, now stood in the middle of the room with a determined girl standing on his shoes.

 

With a poker face and eyes full of surprise.

 

“Okay,” he said quietly. “But if I can't walk after this dance, I'll blame your sister.”

 

“Cool,” she said cheerfully. “I'll say it was an initiation. Vampires also have to sacrifice themselves for art sometimes.”

 

The orchestra played a soft waltz, and suddenly everything began to flow again.

 

They danced.

 

Or rather,

 

Klaus stood, moving slightly, leading the movements of the girl whose laughter was as clear as morning bells. She moved with the grace of a ballerina who had had too much cola, had eaten three cupcakes earlier, and had absolutely no idea what court protocol was.

 

But something about this scene... worked.

 

Klaus, although to many his face did not reveal much, looked for a moment like someone who had forgotten that he had reasons to be sad.

 

Like someone who was allowing one evening not to be about revenge. Sadness or any sad emotion.

 

Only happiness, and the little girl in his arms who was causing that feeling.

 

From the side, leaning against a pillar, Elijah watched the whole scene closely with the expression of a man who didn't know whether to be moved or to ask if this ball was even taking place.

 

“Funny,” he said quietly, standing next to Caroline. “Your sister is taming my brother. An original hybrid. The baddest of the bad.”

 

“She would tame a tsunami if she thought it was being rude,” Caroline replied with a slight smile, not taking her eyes off her sister.

 

“You know...” Elijah added after a moment of silence. “I haven't seen Klaus so disarmed in... many, many years.”

 

Henrik, he hadn't seen him like this since Henrik.

 

Caroline looked at her sister, this little creature in a tiara who had first taken over the entire ballroom like a true queen, and then everyone's hearts. Her gaze softened and a smile appeared on her face, bright as the moonlight reflecting off the surface of a lake.

 

“Yes,” she whispered. “She just... does that to others.”

 

 

---

 

 

Stasia herself - sorry, Princess Stasia, as she now insisted on being officially called - seemed to be the driving force behind the entire evening. With unyielding persistence and childlike charm, she forced her partner, to dance with her again.

 

And then again. And again. They spent a lot of time on the dance floor.

 

No one dared to deny them space. The guests moved aside with amusement and slight admiration, watching this strange, unexpectedly charming couple. A hybrid and a child. The king of darkness and a little princess who could light up any shadow.

 

The fun continued, but even magic has its limits.

 

And princesses, though they may be extraordinary and haughty, also get tired.

 

Without exception. Even Stiles.

 

With a slight moan, more like a dramatic sigh, Stasia pulled Klaus by the hand again, this time toward a familiar group standing by the columns. The man said nothing, his silhouette simply gliding obediently behind her, as if she were the center of gravity of the entire place.

 

When they arrived, Stasia immediately let go of his hand and rushed towards Elena, who, as if sensing her desire, was already handing her a glass of water with a slice of lemon.

 

And suddenly Klaus was alone.

 

And Caroline was standing in front of him.

 

The silence between them was not heavy, it was not awkward, but rather tense. Tense like a rope that could turn into a bridge... or break.

 

He looked. Not into her eyes, but at her whole figure. The line of her shoulders, the flutter of her eyelashes, the flash of her dress, whose color reminded him of the warm summer sky. His gaze wandered over her with strange caution, as if he were trying to memorize her whole, now, at this moment, exactly as she was.

 

Finally, after a moment, he spoke:

 

“Hey.”

 

Caroline, holding a glass of light pink wine, looked up at him and replied just as quietly, but with a hint of defiance:

 

“Hey.”

 

I haven't seen him so awkward since... probably never, she thought.

 

Klaus swallowed, something moved in his throat, but the words... wouldn't come out.

 

“You look...” he began. But he said nothing more.

 

Beautiful?

 

Amazing?

 

Like... like the most beautiful star in the sky?

 

None of that even remotely described how beautiful the woman in front of him looked.

 

Caroline lifted her chin, smiling with a clear sparkle in her eye.

 

“I know,” she said simply, then laughed softly, lightly, freely, as only she could laugh around him. As if that laugh was reserved only for him.

 

For a moment, neither of them moved.

 

And then Klaus, as if gathering more than just courage, bowed slightly at the waist and extended his hand toward her, inviting her to take it.

 

“May I have this dance?”

 

Caroline looked at his gesture, smiling slightly, and then at him. Her smile changed. It became gentler. Even more tender.

 

“Always,” she replied.

 

Their hands touched with a tenderness no one expected, and together they moved onto the dance floor. Slowly, without haste.

 

There was no theatricality in their movements, as there had been with Stiles earlier.

 

They didn't need it. There was no princess aura, no solemnity, no pretense. It was just them, looking into each other's eyes and in love.

 

And yet, even though they paid no attention to anyone else... all eyes followed them.

 

As before with Stasi and Klaus, now the guests turned to the new couple, the one that looked as if they had already danced in each other's arms at thousands of balls.

 

Klaus led with confidence, but without dominance. Gently, with almost unexpected softness, as if he were dancing with something fragile and rare. With porcelain. With a soul.

 

And Caroline? The woman was as light as air. As if her dress did not touch the ground, and she herself was the embodiment of everything Klaus never dared to have.

 

Their bodies knew the rhythm.

 

Their hands did not seek each other. They already knew where they were.

 

As if they had been made for each other.

 

When Klaus and his dance partner became the center of attention again, his former partner, Stasia, stood to the side, next to the column, her mouth agape, still sipping water, but without the previous greed or focus.

 

The girl looked at them the way children look at the first snowflakes - with a delight that cannot be feigned under any circumstances.

 

“Oh my...” she whispered to Elena, who was standing next to her, smiling just as broadly at her friend's happiness. At first, the mere thought of Klaus and Caroline in any kind of relationship made her blood boil, but now, watching them on the dance floor, she couldn't deny what she was seeing. They were in love. And Elena wanted Caroline to be happy, to find her happiness, to fall truly in love, and if she had to swallow her opinions and aversions for that, she would. There were important things and more important things.

 

“They look like a prince and a princess. Like in a real fairy tale,” the girl whispered again.

 

Quite unexpectedly, a moment later, Rebekah Mikaelson stood next to Stiles, completely silently. The hostess and decorator of this whole grand event. In the glow of the crystal chandelier, she seemed almost unnaturally beautiful. Her silver silk and light dress enveloped her almost like armor, and her every movement was so refined, as if she had been learning it for centuries.

 

And that may well have been the truth.

 

For a moment, the woman said nothing, only glanced sideways at the little girl standing proudly, holding an empty water glass like a scepter. Even she wondered how one could look so elegant while leaning against a column and holding a glass.

 

Finally, she spoke quietly, with curiosity in her voice that was both natural and dangerous: “Is that your older sister?”

 

Stiles glanced again at Caroline, who was not concerned with anything but the eyes of her dance partner.

 

“Mhm. And she's my fairy godmother, princess, and knight all rolled into one. And also a bit of a vampire dragon when she gets angry. But one that doesn't eat people. Just their opinion.”

 

Rebekah raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "That's quite impressive. So many roles in one person. Stiles, right?"

 

“Princess Stasia, currently. And you're Rebekah Mikaelson.” Stiles looked at her intently, squinting as if she were considering something very important. The tone of her voice was as if she had just discovered the secret of the universe. Sweet but enigmatic at the same time.

 

Rebekah burst out laughing, surprised by the seriousness with which her name was spoken. “You guessed right. Should I be afraid that you know me?”

 

“Nooo,” replied the girl, shaking her head. With theatrical innocence, even. “I just know that you're a vampire with a thousand years of experience who likes balls, fairy tales, and trinkets.”

 

Rebekah choked on her wine. Really. She had to put her glass down and look at Stiles with new attention, as if she had suddenly become much more interesting.

 

“How old are you, child?” she asked cautiously.

 

“Six,” she replied immediately. “But mentally, maybe eight. And a half. I learned from Caroline. And from Peter. And Aunt Talia. And... well, many people. And non-people! No discrimination!”

 

“Peter? Aunt Talia?” Rebekah half-ignored the comment about discrimination, but also found it quite sweet. The girl seemed genuinely concerned that she might offend someone.

 

Stiles sighed. “Peter is my friend's uncle. Cora. A werewolf. Weird. A bit like a spider web and a piece of meat at the same time. But sometimes nice. And... not so bad.” She thought for a moment. “But sometimes he does very strange things. Like he's a supporting character who wants to be the main one. And Aunt Talia is Cora's mom. I love her. She's great, she's also strong and very pretty and just GREAT! She's an Alpha and she's super duper powerful.”

 

She almost shouted the last words. You could see the difference when the girl talked about her aunt, her eyes almost sparkled and the words came out of her mouth almost like a prayer.

 

Rebekah raised her eyebrow even higher. “Oh, yes. And Cora?”

 

“Cora is my best friend,” she announced proudly. “She's also a werewolf. She has a tail. It's beautiful. When she transforms, she looks like a deluxe version of the wolf moon.”

 

Rebekah laughed softly. She had never seen anyone, child or adult, react this way to a supernatural creature. Never. “You really know about the supernatural, and you're okay with it, huh?”

 

“Of course I do,” Stiles said, as if it were an offensive question. “Duh. Most folks around here are vampires, witches, or hybrids. I get it. Besides, you gotta respect everyone. You don’t have to like them, but you should respect them, that’s what my mom said.”

 

Before Rebekah could respond, though she didn't even know what to say, another member of her siblings approached them, the infamous Kol Mikaelson, with a glass in his hand and his typical, slightly cheeky smile.

 

“Hi, little one. Who do we have here?” he said, glancing at Stiles with that look he always had for anything shorter than five feet.

 

Stiles lifted her head and looked at him very closely. As if she were searching his entire soul.

 

“Stiles, or Stasia” she said, “princess. Honored guest. And you’re Kol. Klaus’s younger brother. You used to do a lot of stupid things.” She paused for a moment. “You remind me a little of Peter. You’re weird. But cool and funny.”

 

Kol froze for a second, then looked in shock at Rebecca, who was bursting with laughter.

 

“You feed her well, huh?” he muttered. He had seen the earlier commotion over the unexpected guest, but hadn't paid much attention to it. However, he had to admit, he was beginning to understand what was going on.

 

But Stiles wasn't done yet. “You're nicer now, I guess,” she continued with the seriousness of a royal advisor. “Well... half and half. Your teeth are a little too sharp.”

 

“That's my aesthetic, kid.” Kol looked at her with feigned indignation and took a step back, as if he were really grimacing.

 

Another calm voice came from behind them.

 

“Kol,” Elijah said. The eldest of the Mikaelson siblings approached slowly, upright and distinguished, as if he had just stepped out of an oil painting. “Have you been rude to our guests again?”

 

“Me?” Kol placed his hand innocently on his heart in an almost theatrical gesture. “Never, dear brother, never.”

 

As the man pretended to be a dramatic queen, Stiles turned to look at the newcomer and... instantly fell silent.

 

For the first time that evening, she looked as if she couldn't immediately name something. She just stared. At him, as if reading him carefully. Attentively. As if there was something different about him.

 

“You're different,” she said quietly. She had to admit, she had always been a very literal.

 

“Oh? In what way?” Elijah raised his eyebrows curiously. He had to admit that the girl in front of him seemed interesting. The child, despite being only 6 years old, was a very curious but also very perceptive creature. And apparently, her level of any kind of survival instinct was almost zero. He wanted to find out more about her. To see what else she could do and what else was hidden in that small body.

 

Stiles thought for a moment, tilting her head as if it would help her figure something out. “I don't know... You have the eyes of someone who carries a lot inside and doesn't want to give it to anyone.”

 

For a split second, there was silence.

 

Rebekah blinked in surprise. This child... really knew a lot, she thought. Never, in centuries, had Rebekah met anyone like the girl in front of her. The child looked at each of them for only a moment and immediately seemed to know. She knew everything. For the older vampire, it was terrifying that someone knew so much about them.

 

Kol, on the other hand, just rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his drink, pretending not to be interested in the conversation. However, deep down, he had to admit that he was intrigued by this little gremlin. The kid was smart.

 

And Elijah... Elijah just smiled. Really. Quietly, gently, as he did very, very rarely. He smiled as if he already knew everything. As if he had expected it.

 

“You have a very good eye, Stanisławo Stilinski.”

 

The girl grimaced at first when she heard her full name, but after a moment she almost beamed, as if she had just been awarded a medal. “Caroline always says I'm an emotional detector. That I sense things. Even when adults don't say them out loud.”

 

Elijah nodded respectfully. “I'm sure Caroline says a lot of things about you.”

 

Stiles laughed, then added with disarming honesty, “Some of which I won't repeat.”

 

“Oh no, she's reminding me of my reputation again.” Kol gasped theatrically.

 

“I think this is the first time in a hundred years that someone has been able to dominate a conversation with us without blood and fire.” Rebekah looked at her brothers with a half-smile.

 

Elijah adjusted his cuff. “Or maybe we've just found our youngest teacher of diplomacy.”

 

“I can always help. But then I want dessert. And maybe a window seat in your castle.” Stiles adjusted her tiara and lifted her chin proudly.

 

“Castle?” Kol asked sarcastically.

 

“Well, you're royalty. Vampires, magic, drama. That sort of thing. That sort of thing. It's begging for a castle.”

 

This time, the laughter of the three sounded so sincere that several guests in the room looked back with curiosity.

 

And Stiles... just smiled broadly. She had just gained something more valuable than a crown.

 

Besides...

 

Stiles quite liked the Mikaelsons. Really, really liked them. She was going to take them for herself.

 

 

---

 

 

The waltz floated in the air like mist, softly enveloping the dancing couples, their sparkling dresses and glances full of unspoken words. But they were the main couple.

 

Klaus and Caroline.

 

Klaus and Caroline danced, not for show, not for anyone else. For themselves.

 

Only for themselves.

 

Their movements were fluid, attuned to each other as if they had been practicing this dance for centuries. Klaus led with the grace of someone who had held a woman's hand before, but with the caution of someone holding something precious. Caroline was like light, light, precise, yet sensitive. With each step, they breathed in the same rhythm. Those watching them might even think that the couple was floating in each other's arms across the dance floor. Their movements were so fluid and synchronized.

 

He brought his lips close to her ear as she gently turned under his arm.

 

“Your sister just tamed my siblings,” he said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

 

Caroline looked over her shoulder, watching her younger sister argue with Cole about some magic. “I'm not surprised. She charms people faster than I can finish a sentence. Besides, don't lie. She charmed you too.”

 

She laughed at his feigned sulky expression.

 

They spun around, coming back to each other again. Everything around them seemed to slow down.

 

“You can't prove it to me, but I admit - maybe a little,” Klaus muttered, holding her close for a fraction of a second longer. There was silence for a moment, until the man spoke again. “To be honest, this isn't how I imagined your arrival.”

 

“Oh, really?” Caroline raised an eyebrow. “And how did you imagine my arrival through the eyes of your artistic imagination?”

 

“I thought... you'd come with someone. Rebekah mentioned that you'd be coming with someone,” he didn't even look her in the eye. He was also quite reluctant to admit that his sister had informed him about the additional guest.

 

“Someone?” she repeated slowly, her gaze following his.

 

“I assumed you'd come with a man. Someone you didn't know. Someone with a stable life. A human, maybe? Someone who drinks lattes without sugar and teaches ballroom dancing.”

 

“Sounds like a nightmare.” Caroline snorted.

 

Klaus smiled to himself, but it was a bitter smile.

 

“I was jealous, Caroline,” he admitted, though he didn't really know who he really was. Her? Or himself? “I was jealous of a man I didn't even know. Because I thought you would come here holding his hand. That you would dance with someone who didn't look at you the way I do. I was jealous, and the man I expected doesn't even exist.”

 

Caroline was silent for a moment. They changed direction. Her hands rested softly on his shoulders, but her gaze was sharp as glass.

 

“Niklaus...” she began calmly. His full name. Rarely did anyone call him by his full name. “You're an idiot.”

 

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

 

She looked at him as if he were an idiot, not a big bad wolf.

 

“First of all, I wouldn't do that to you. Second, you really do sometimes make up dramas that aren't there.” She hesitated only for a moment, then added more quietly: “And thirdly: if I were to be with anyone here, it would be you. And only you. I like you, Klaus. I can't say I love you yet. But I'm slowly starting to. And I'm not ashamed of it, nor do I want to change it.”

 

Her words weren't loud. They were like a whisper amid the roar of the music. But to him, they were louder than all the sounds of the ball combined. Damn it! Louder than all the sounds in the world!

 

Caroline Forbes had just told him she was falling in love with him. With him! Klaus Mikaelson!

 

They paused for a moment, even though the music continued. And before Klaus could say anything in response, that he liked her, that he was falling in love with her too, anything, that's when they heard:

 

“No one knows that Klaus was looking at Caroline like a lovesick puppy with a broken heart. Oh! Almost like in Lady and the Tramp! I’d watch Lady and the Tramp again.”

 

Caroline turned her head sharply. In the distance, amid the chatter and laughter, Stiles stood in the middle of the living room wearing a tiara, sparkling, talkative, and completely unfazed by any rules of court etiquette.

 

“STILES!” Caroline almost choked. God, her sister had no inhibitions.

 

“What? Everyone can see it anyway.”

 

“I'm taking her. She's staying with me. She's mine.” Rebekah burst out laughing.

 

“No,” Caroline groaned. “Don't come near me. You're already too similar.”

 

 

“Tell me,” Klaus muttered to her, pulling Caroline closer to him again. He wanted to feel her. He wanted to be as close to her as possible. “Has this child always been so... unpredictable?”

 

The man in front of her was completely unmoved by Stiles' comment or attitude, and Caroline felt her heart expand even more for him. In many cases, people considered Stiles to be a very arrogant and ill-mannered child who couldn't keep her mouth shut, and many couldn't stand her comments or behavior, but Klaus didn't even say a word. In fact, Caroline could assume that the man was amused by the whole spectacle.

 

Seeing all this, she felt her feelings for him grow even stronger.

 

“Always,” she replied with pride and a certain fondness. “And more and more every day.”

 

“She reminds me you.”

 

“Thank you… I guess?”

 

They danced one more turn. And then another.

 

The music kept flowing, the song changed to another, and they kept dancing—as if the night could last forever.

 

The music kept playing, the song changed to another, and they kept dancing - as if this night could last forever.

 

“Caroline,” Klaus said suddenly. “You know, if you told me today that you wanted to disappear to the other end of the world... I would follow you without question. Anywhere. Wherever you wanted.”

 

“And I would stop you. Because I don't want you to follow me.” He looked at her with surprise, or perhaps even concern? “I want you to dance with me. Here. Now. And tomorrow.”

 

And Klaus smiled. Because if that's what she wanted, he was going to make it happen for her.

 

Because that was enough.

 

Notes:

Heh, just kidding. Well, kind of.
The main story of the ball has just ended, but! But for those who haven't had enough, I have two additional chapters ready. And if you're interested in more, feel free to visit my

 

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or the comments section, where you can write me your ideas for other continuations of this story.
As for this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. I wrote it in separate parts and then combined them, so it looks the way it does. But I'm quite proud of it anyway.

Chapter 9: After ball night

Summary:

Reflections after the prom, and Stiles is cute too

Notes:

Soooo, this update came super fast, but I had this ch. written before I even wrote ch.7, so I just didn't want to wait.

 

This wonderful ball evening was more than just a beautiful experience, it was almost like something out of a fairy tale, it had to be admitted. Crowds of elegant guests, couples whirling around the dance floor, sparkling dresses shimmering in the light of the crystal chandeliers, and food so delicious, truly prepared with the finest ingredients.

 

Simply wonderful.

 

But, as is the case with the most beautiful fairy tales, everything must come to an end, and this night could not last forever either.

 

Especially for a six-year-old girl who, despite her sincere intentions and subsequent feigned energy, began to struggle to keep her eyes open after a few hours. And although she tried her best not to show her exhaustion, and even ignored Caroline's quiet encouragements to say goodbye, the fight against sleep was becoming increasingly difficult.

 

Around midnight, sleep was already leading 2:1, and the little princess was struggling to stay on her feet. That's when Caroline decided it was time to say, “Enough!”

 

However, as Stasia was a real princess, she couldn't just leave without saying goodbye. No way. And so began her last mission of the evening: a personal “good night” to each guest. The sight of the little girl wandering around the grand ballroom, with a big smile, sleepy eyes, and hugs goodbye, was heartwarming. Even the most reserved guests were charmed by her, and some of them even hugged her as they said goodbye.

 

Caroline watched with curiosity to see if Stasia would also try to hug the Mikaelsons, whom, quite charmingly and unsurprisingly, she already seemed to consider “her own.” However, to the blonde's surprise, the girl somehow bypassed them. Of course, she said goodnight to them, but... was it just Caroline who thought she saw a shadow of disappointment flit across the faces of the oldest vampires?

 

The entire farewell ceremony lasted almost an hour, and in the end, Caroline had to carry Stasia out of the room, as she was already fast asleep.

 

Fortunately, thanks to Klaus, whom Caroline kissed on the cheek goodbye, they were able to return home in a different car. This meant they didn't leave Bonnie and Elena without transportation, which was a nice gesture. 

 

In the end, they arrived home around 1 a.m.

 

If Caroline were alone, she would probably stay at the ball for a few more hours, maybe even until morning, especially since a certain Original hybrid would certainly not mind. But that evening, her priority was Stasia. Although the girl was like a spark, full of energy, excited by the events and thoroughly hyped up by the amount of sugar she had eaten, a few hours at the ball plus the time spent getting ready could tire even the most persistent.

 

But tiredness is one thing, and evening rituals are another. A child is a child, and even the most magical ball cannot replace a bedtime story. Or maybe one more song.

 

So they both ended up in Liz's bed—big, comfortable, much softer than any other in the house.

 

And despite her almost sleepy face, Stiles kept talking and talking.

 

About how much fun she had.

 

About how great they looked.

 

About how good the food was.

 

About how much fun the dancing was.

 

About who she met.

 

And strangely, or perhaps not so much, Stasia began to talk about the Mikaelson siblings. She spoke about them with such enthusiasm that Caroline couldn't help but be amazed. She knew her younger sister very well. Too well not to know what had just happened.

 

And something happened that was already becoming a tradition in their family. And what had happened was something that was already becoming a tradition in their family.

 

“Adoption by Stanisława Stilinski™” is what Caroline calls this phenomenon. It was something completely normal and yet absolutely unique. And although it sounded funny, it meant a lot.

 

Stiles had an innate instinct to form attachments. Ever since she could talk and understand the world around her, she had a habit of “taking under her wing” anything that seemed lost, hurt, or simply lonely. As a small child, she would come home with injured birds, frozen kittens, or homeless dogs, and announce with complete seriousness that from now on they were hers. Not temporarily. Forever.

 

But never in a possessive, appropriating way. Whenever such situations happened in her family, everyone knew that the girl would take care of the poor animal, but if it wanted to, she would let it go. She would let it go, but she would never forget it.

 

Caroline remembered how once Stasia brought home a hedgehog wrapped in her own scarf and followed it around like a shadow all day, feeding it apples and telling it that “now it doesn't have to be afraid because it has a home.” Back then, it was just animals. But over time... that changed.

 

When she grew up a little, she started “adopting” children.

 

In the yard, in the sandbox, in kindergarten — it didn't matter where. It was as if she knew at first glance who needed a place to belong. They weren't always the easiest companions to get along with. Sometimes they were quiet and withdrawn, sometimes loud and unpredictable, sometimes younger, sometimes older, but Stasia somehow always noticed them.

 

She did it officially for the first time when she was only four years old. She came to her parents, holding her new friend's hand, and declared with complete seriousness:

 

“This is Isaac. I adopted him.”

 

And although everyone burst out laughing, she didn't quite understand what was so funny. Because for her, it was completely serious. She knew that “adoption” was more than just a game. Even if she didn't yet know all the legal nuances, she understood that it was about someone no longer being alone. About them knowing that they had a place. That they had a family. That they belonged to someone. And most often - that they belonged to her.

 

That she would take care of them, help them, hug them.

 

Since then, it had happened more and more often. Caroline had even stopped counting how many friends, neighbors, and sometimes even teachers at kindergarten had been “adopted into the family” by Stasia for a while. And although at first it seemed to adults to be just a sweet childhood fantasy, over time they began to see how seriously the girl took her adoptions. And what was even stranger - those “adopted” also felt it. And not once did anyone object.

 

So now, lying next to her in bed and listening to Stiles talk excitedly about the Mikaelsons, Caroline already knew there was no turning back. Whether the Originals understood it or not, from today on, they were family. At least according to Stanisława Stilinski.

 

And even if she laughed a little at that, it wasn't what caught her attention. What caught her attention most in all of this was the way she talked about them, and almost most importantly, what she said about them.

 

 

---

 

 

“Rebekah is very pretty. Really, really pretty. Like a princess...” She yawned widely, snuggling closer to her beloved George, her voice becoming increasingly sleepy, but at the same time full of admiration.

 

Caroline looked at her with a gentle smile. “Oh, really?” she asked quietly, unable to hide her amusement, but also her interest. She wasn't sure when the bedtime story, which was supposed to calm Stasia down and help her fall asleep, had turned into a child's musings about the Mikaelson siblings. But she didn't mind. On the contrary, she wanted to know what else she would say. She was intrigued.

 

“Yeah. She’s like. . . like Rapunzel,” the girl said, a little more quietly now, with a slight thoughtfulness in her voice. “She has long blonde hair. Really long. And she’s so pretty. . . Except her smile... it's pretty, but sad, you know?"

 

Caroline nodded, even though she knew the girl wasn't looking at her anymore. Her thoughts were somewhere else, suspended between reality and dreams.

 

“And why Rapunzel, sweetheart? she asked gently.

 

Stasia was silent for a moment, as if she were formulating her answer in her head. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet and calm.

 

“Because she's lonely,” she said, almost in a whisper, with such conviction as if she were talking about someone she had known forever. “She lives in a tower, all alone, and no one visits her. She has everything: beautiful hair, pretty dresses, a lovely voice. But she's alone. And that's why her smile is lonely too.”

 

Caroline felt a slight twinge in her heart. There was more to this one simple childish thought than just a fairy-tale metaphor. She didn't want to interrupt, so she just murmured quietly, encouraging the girl to continue.

 

She wanted to listen. She wanted to know how it was possible that her little sister could see things that adults often couldn't see.

 

“And Kol!” said Stasia, suddenly a little livelier, as if the very sound of his name had awakened her for a moment. “Kol is funny. A bit like a clown!” she giggled softly, a muffled laugh that quickly turned into a yawn.

 

“But he's also sad...” she added more quietly, more calmly. "Like a clown who wears a mask. You know, a funny one, so that everyone laughs. But underneath, he's not happy at all. Kol does funny things, he acts silly... but only so that others can see him. So that no one sees what he's really like. Because maybe he's afraid. Or tired. I guess it's very tiring. To pretend all the time."

 

Caroline felt her heart tremble. At that moment, she understood once again why Stasia sometimes scared her. Not in a literal sense, but with her insight. The way she can look at people—and really see them.

 

Despite her age and childlike innocence, she saw more than many adults. Emotions, fears, pain, everything that was hidden, she sensed it. It was as if she could see right through masks, through all appearances and gestures.

 

“And then there's Elijah,” the girl added, calmly again. Her voice was becoming increasingly sleepy. “He's very serious. So much so that it seems like he never jokes around. But... I think he's just pretending. For his siblings. To protect them. To make them feel safe. To let them know they can count on him. Because he's the oldest.”

 

She paused for a moment, then, after a short yawn, added almost in a whisper:

 

“But who will protect him?”

 

Caroline swallowed, but didn't say anything. She couldn't.

 

“What about Klaus?” she asked after a moment, quietly, almost casually, but she couldn't help herself.

 

“Hmmm...” Stasia wrinkled her nose slightly, as if she really had to think about it. Her eyelids began to droop more and more, her breathing was already slow and calm.

 

“Klaus... is hurt. Closed off,” she finally said, almost in a whisper, as if her voice was falling asleep with her. “He's afraid... that someone will leave him. Like others... like before. Because everyone leaves... He's afraid he'll be alone. That he won't have a family. But also... he's closed off, he doesn't show himself because he's afraid someone will betray him.”

 

Then she fell silent. For a moment.

 

“Caroline?” she whispered softly.

 

“Yes, dear?” she replied, her voice trembling slightly. She wasn't surprised at all that tears welled up in her eyes. But how could she not be moved?

 

For so long, she had seen the Originals as a threat. Later, slowly, she began to see that there were other things beneath the surface. But Stasia? She only needed one night. One ball. A few hours. And she saw them. She saw them all.

 

“Why are they so sad?” “Oh, sweetheart...” Caroline began softly, slowly stroking the girl's hair and gently rocking her in her arms. “Do you remember how you hurt yourself when I was teaching you how to ride a bike?” she finally asked in a gentle tone.

 

The girl moved slightly, as if something had awakened in her. After a moment, she nodded slowly.

 

“I remember...” she whispered. “I fell and it hurt.”

 

The girl stirred slightly, as if something had awakened in her. After a moment, she nodded slowly.

 

Caroline nodded, hugging her even tighter.

 

“It hurt. And you cried for a long time. You didn't want to get back on. But then... then you tried again. And you succeeded.”

 

The little girl nodded again, her eyes closed.

 

“But it still hurts a little when I think about it,” she admitted quietly.

 

“I know, sweetheart. Things like that stay with us. Maybe not as intensely, but they're there. Sometimes we feel it in our bodies, and sometimes only in our hearts.”

 

Caroline was silent for a moment, unsure whether to say what was on the tip of her tongue. But then she sighed softly and continued, her voice gentle, as if she were talking about something sacred.

 

“Do you remember... how you felt after your mom died?”

 

The question hung in the air like warm tea that no one wanted to drink. The girl didn't answer right away. Only her tiny hand clenched Caroline's shirt tighter.

 

After a moment, she whispered, “It hurt a lot.”

 

“Me too.”

 

Caroline swallowed the tears that were welling up in her throat.

 

“And that pain... it doesn't go away. Over time, we learn to live with it. We learn to get up, breathe, even laugh... but it's still there somewhere. Maybe smaller. Maybe quieter. But it stays.”

 

The girl moved even closer, as if she wanted to get under Caroline's skin, to stay where she would be safest.

 

“And when someone is very, very old...” she began in a small, sleepy voice, “do they have a lot of pain like that?”

 

Caroline smiled gently.

 

“Yes, sweetheart. A lot. Because when you live a very long time, like some people do...” her voice trembled, “you see how many people leave. How many times you say goodbye. How often you lose. And every moment like that leaves a mark. A scar. Sometimes one, sometimes thousands.”

 

The girl was silent for a moment, then raised her head and looked at her sister with eyes larger than usual.

 

“So... it's like they lost their mom several times?”

 

“Yes, sort of, sweetheart.” Caroline pulled her closer, kissing her gently on the forehead.

 

“Is that why they have those eyes?” the girl asked suddenly, snuggling up to her sister again. “Sad eyes? And that’s why they’re sometimes afraid? That it hurts them?”

 

Caroline hesitated for a moment.

 

“Yes, sweetie. Because even if they're strong, even if they pretend nothing bothers them, that sadness is still there. Maybe not on the outside, but on the inside.”

 

She muttered suddenly, quietly but with great seriousness. “Then they need hugs. Everyone needs hugs.”

 

Caroline laughed softly through her tears, with such tenderness that her heart ached.

 

“You're right. Absolutely right.”

 

Although she knew that the next day this little girl would set out on a mission to fix the world, that she would give hugs to the oldest, strongest, and darkest beings on this earth, Caroline also knew one thing:

 

It can't be stopped.

 

You can't stop a heart as big as Stiles's.

 

And you can't defend yourself against that love.

 

Even if you're immortal.

 

Even if you're a thousand years old and have thousands of scars.

 

Nothing, and certainly no one, will stop Stiles Stilinski from adopting and hugging the great, indestructible Originals.

 

Not even them.

 

Even if they fought with their claws and fangs, which Caroline doubted because she saw their faces when they didn't get hugs, they had long since been wrapped around Stiles' little finger, nothing would save them.

 

But first—

 

First, they had to get some sleep.

 

“But first...” she muttered quietly, yawning widely, “we have to get some sleep.”

 

Caroline gently laid the girl in her arms, wrapped them in a blanket, and looked at her peaceful, almost smiling face for a moment longer.

 

It had been a beautiful but very, very tiring day.

 

Notes:

I hope you like it, and I'll try to give you the last chapter as soon as possible.

Chapter 10: Mission Hugs

Summary:

Mission: Hug the Mikaelsons

Notes:

So yes, that's it. The last chapter.
To be honest, I'm sorry you had to wait so long, but it's here now!
This is the last (?) chapter and thus the longest in the story. I won't say any more, except that I hope you enjoy it.

 

The sun had long since climbed high in the sky, as if to prove that the day had begun long ago, no matter how much the residents of the Forbes house wanted to stay in bed.

 

Quiet, golden rays lazily streamed through the light, white curtains in the living room, their warmth gently dispelling the gloom and casting a glow on the table, the carpet, and Caroline's silhouette.

 

The woman had been sitting on a soft sofa for quite some time, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe in a pale shade of pink. The fabric enveloped her like a cocoon, and she herself, with a cup of hot blood in her hands, looked like someone desperately trying to return to reality after a night that was too long and too intense. Her hair was still tousled—it hadn't had time to regain its shape after the ball yesterday, and its unruly strands fell chaotically onto her shoulders. Caroline felt that it wasn't just her hairstyle that betrayed her fatigue.

 

She had completely forgotten to take a bath and remove her makeup the night before, so now her face was like a canvas on which someone had left smudged colors: remnants of blue, black, and glitter. She could have looked at herself in the mirror and laughed at her appearance, but she had neither the strength nor the desire to do so. Every movement seemed to require too much of her. She felt sluggish, slow, and had the impression that even her thoughts were wandering in a half-sleep.

 

“I need coffee. Liters of coffee. Or blood,” she thought resignedly, inhaling the aroma of the warm drink. She took a calm sip, feeling the familiar relief, and at that moment she heard the distinctive sound outside the window, the engine of a car she knew well, which had just stopped in front of the house.

 

She glanced toward the door. She knew immediately that this could only mean one thing. Her mother was back.

 

Yesterday, neither she nor Stiles had had a chance to see Elizabeth Forbes. The woman had to work a full 24-hour shift and left before the girls had a chance to say hello to her. Caroline felt relieved; no matter what her mother was called away for, Caroline always worried about her. It was good that she was coming back. But Stiles was even more excited about it all. The little girl couldn't wait to see her beloved Aunt Liz again.

 

Just as Caroline raised her cup to her lips again, she heard a child's voice coming from the kitchen. Stiles was sitting at the table, in her shiny star-patterned pajamas, struggling with a heavy glass jug of orange juice. She looked comical, her tiny hands trying to hold a vessel almost twice their size.

 

“CAROLINE!” she called loudly.

 

Caroline opened her mouth to respond, but before she could even ask why she had been summoned, the front door opened with a quiet creak and Elizabeth Forbes walked in - tired, but still with a radiant smile on her face. Her uniform still smelled of the city, duty, and night, but her face showed genuine joy.

 

”Well, hello!” she exclaimed, a little too energetically for Caroline’s taste. “How are my favorite girls?!”

 

Caroline groaned and covered her eyes with her hand.

 

“Mom… it’s too early for such excitement. We’re just getting back to life. And some of us are still half asleep.”

 

“Some?” Liz raised her eyebrows, glancing toward the kitchen.

 

And then Stiles appeared. The girl ran out of the kitchen like a storm, with a jug in one hand and juice smeared on her nose, as if she had just fought the most serious battle of her life. Caroline immediately understood why the girl was calling her name.

 

“AUNT LIZ!” she shouted happily.

 

“STASIA!” Liz replied, and before either of them could stop, they collided mid-step.

 

The girl jumped into her aunt's arms, and the woman, despite still wearing her uniform, opened her arms and hugged her with all her heart. She didn't care that the juice was already spilling onto her pants, leaving a stain. The most important thing was this meeting, this warmth and joy.

 

Caroline just stood to the side, her hands folded over her chest, a smile on her lips. She looked at the two people who were most precious to her, and at that moment even her fatigue seemed less important.

 

After a moment, Liz pulled the girl away, holding her by the shoulders, and looked at her intently.

 

“Look at you! How you've grown!” she exclaimed. “You're so big now! And... is that glitter?”

 

The woman narrowed her eyes, her gaze wandering from top to bottom. “Everywhere?”

 

“It's protective glitter!” Stiles announced proudly. “Elena helped, and Bonnie said it wards off negative energy!”

 

“Oh, really?” Liz raised an eyebrow, amused by her child's seriousness. “So I see you had fun?”

 

“YES! It was awesome!” Stiles jumped up and down with enthusiasm. Her head moved so fast that her hair danced around her like a halo. “And Caroline was my knight!”

 

“Oh, really?” Liz laughed, looking at her daughter. “A vampire as a knight... who would have thought?”

 

“And yet,” Caroline replied, entering the kitchen with a new mug, this time full of pure caffeine. “Sometimes life can really surprise us.”

 

A moment later, Liz and Stiles sat down together at the kitchen table, and Caroline set about making breakfast. The smell of bread and freshly brewed coffee slowly began to fill the room.

 

The little princess, as was her habit, immediately began to talk. And once she started, she couldn't stop. She talked about the ball in such detail that it felt like they were there again. About the preparations, which seemed to take forever. About the journey, which felt like a magical trip. About the hall full of light and decorations that looked like something straight out of a fairy tale.

 

She talked about how Klaus danced with extraordinary lightness, about her conversation with Elijah about books, which made her feel important and taken seriously. She recounted how Kol tried to show off with some impressive gesture, but ended up falling straight into a heavy curtain. There was a tiara, there was dancing, there were cookies that tasted, as she herself said, “exactly like the middle of a fairy tale night.”

 

She also didn't forget to mention the other people and “non-people” she had met, Princess Rebecca, Bonnie, and Elena, who had helped her prepare. She recounted every detail, every memory, with such passion that Liz just nodded, laughed, and interjected with short comments every now and then, and Caroline felt her heart melt at the sight.

 

At one point, Liz leaned over to her daughter and whispered so quietly that only Caroline could hear her:

 

“You really made her happy.”

 

Caroline fell silent. Her gaze wandered to Stiles, who was trying to recreate the dance from the ball, performing a pirouette in oversized slippers with rabbit ears. Smiling, full of life, lighting up every corner of the house.

 

“No,” Caroline replied quietly. “She's the one who makes others happy.”

 

 

---

 

 

Later, after breakfast, everyone went their separate ways. Liz went to her room to finally change her clothes and sleep after a tiring shift. Caroline could see how fatigue had finally taken its toll on her shoulders; her uniform, though always impressive, seemed too heavy this time. She knew her mother deserved a rest, so she didn't stop her with questions or conversation.

 

The other two girls, Caroline and Stasia, also had their duties. The vampire knew perfectly well that they had an eventful day ahead of them, and on such a day, they couldn't look as if they had just come off the dance floor after an all-night ball. So they went to take a bath and get themselves together. The streams of water washed away the remnants of Caroline's makeup and at least some of the weight of fatigue from her mind. Meanwhile, Stiles, who could splash more water in the bath than anyone else, came out of the bathroom smelling fresh, with wet hair and a smile that said, “I'm ready for anything.”

 

And then the time came. Time to put the plan into action.

 

And the plan, Caroline had to admit with amusement and affection, was truly unique. Very clever, and what's more, entirely created and officially named by the most wonderful princess, Stasia.

 

“Cuddle time for everyone!” the girl had announced proudly earlier, her eyes sparkling as if she had just come up with the greatest strategy of the century.

 

Caroline didn't have the heart to refuse. Besides, what can we just say, she herself wanted to see a few minutes of surprise. Especially from certain originals who were usually more accustomed to the chaos of battle than to the warm arms of a six-year-old. She wasn't going to miss it. Not at all.

 

(Oh yes. She also intended to take pictures. For scientific purposes only, of course.)

 

They didn't need anything else. No elaborate preparations, no special accessories. The best thing was what always worked in such cases - a surprise attack. So right after breakfast, they both got dressed, thought through the details of the operation, and then got into Caroline's car.

 

The action could begin.

 

The route to the Mikaelson estate was already well known, almost routine, but there was a different energy in the air today. Stiles was almost jumping in her seat, she was so eager to carry out her plan. Caroline, on the other hand, drove calmly, although there was also a hint of excitement in her eyes. She had a strange feeling that this would be one of those days that would remain in their memory for a long time.

 

When the car finally stopped in the driveway of the Mikaelson residence, they both immediately felt the atmosphere change. The house, which yesterday had looked like a royal castle from a fairy tale, all decorated, sparkling with lights, full of music and laughter, had today shed its mask. The decorations were gone, with only a few traces of the ball remaining here and there. The building once again looked like a monumental, somewhat dark, awe-inspiring estate.

 

“Do they have to live as if they combined Gossip Girl with an episode of American Horror Story?” Caroline muttered under her breath as she turned off the engine.

 

Fortunately, Stiles was too busy to hear her comment. She immediately began to struggle with her seatbelt, fidgeting in her seat. The blonde raised her eyebrows, watching her efforts, and after a moment sighed and took pity on her, helping to free her from her “shackles.”

 

“Remember, chaos princess,” she said when Stiles was finally free. “Don’t go off the rails. We’re going according to plan.”

 

“YES!” she replied enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling like two little fires.

 

She jumped out of the car as if she had been shot out of a catapult. Caroline only had time to close the door and mutter something about “little rockets on her feet” before she saw the girl running towards the door of the mansion.

 

The problem arose, however, with the doorbell, which was definitely too high for her to reach. The girl stood on her tiptoes, reached up... and nothing. She sighed in frustration. Fortunately, Caroline managed to get there in time, grabbed her under the arms, and lifted her up.

 

The doorbell rang once - gently, gracefully. But then she rang three more times, louder, more energetically, as if Stiles were trying to wake a dragon in the deepest cave. Caroline smiled to herself.

 

Literally a moment later, the door opened and none other than Kol Mikaelson stood in the doorway. With his shirt half unbuttoned and his hair sticking out in all directions, he looked as if he had just crawled out from under the covers and was still struggling with reality. His gaze seemed to say, “not ready for people, about to tear someone apart.”

 

And yet, when he saw Caroline and Stiles, his eyes widened slightly and his expression softened, though only for a moment, because he immediately raised an eyebrow and spoke in a tone full of sarcastic, morning irony:

 

“Hello, ladies. How can I help you at this early hour?”

 

“Hi, Kol,” Caroline greeted him with a smile, struggling not to laugh at the sight of his “fell into the bushes” hairstyle.

 

But she didn't get a chance to say another word, because Stiles, as usual, was quicker.

 

She threw herself at him. Literally.

 

Before Kol could even react, her small arms were already wrapped around his neck, and her legs were clamped around him like the arms of a stubborn octopus. The vampire staggered, surprised, and only managed to utter a short, stifled:

 

“A–?!”

 

Stiles hugged him tightly, with such determination as if he were the last piece of cake in a bakery that she couldn't let go of. The hug lasted a moment. Or two. Or maybe an eternity - for Kol, for sure.

 

And then, just as suddenly, the girl pulled away, still holding on to the man, of course, and looked at him seriously, as if she were about to deliver the most important message in the world.

 

“You are important. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Don't pretend. You are super awesome just the way you are, and you don't have to be someone you're not. Be yourself, even with your bad side. Really.”

 

If Kol had looked surprised before, now he was completely stunned. It was as if someone had hit him over the head with a metaphorical hammer. Once. And then twice more, just to be sure. He looked at her without saying a word, and his face, usually so confident, feisty, and full of irony, was now almost defenseless.

 

Caroline, standing next to him, couldn't help but laugh. The sight of the original vampire, defeated by a six-year-old's hug, was too beautiful not to remember.

 

“I... thank you?” Kol finally managed to say, his voice sounding more questioning and uncertain than ever. He glanced at Caroline, as if seeking confirmation from her that this had really happened.

 

Caroline was almost rolling on the floor with laughter.

 

“OF COURSE! You deserve it! Everything!” Stiles exclaimed, hugging him again for a second, then giving him a big kiss on the forehead.

 

And before Kol could gather his thoughts again, the girl jumped off him as suddenly as before and disappeared inside the house. Her voice echoed a moment later, bouncing off the stairs:

 

“OKAY! Where's the rest of you?! I have more emotional hugs to give out!”

 

“What the hell just happened? ... And why do I feel like chaos is coming?” Kol, still dazed, muttered under his breath.

 

“It would take too long to explain,” Caroline replied with a slight smile as she walked past him. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and her voice betrayed laughter she was struggling to suppress. She headed toward the living room, calm and content. “But don't worry. This is just the beginning.”

 

Stiles would do just fine - Caroline had no doubt about that. After all, this was only the beginning of her plan. And she still had a whole sea of hugs to give out.

 

 

---

 

 

Next in line, quite by accident, was Rebekah.

 

There was no need to search for her for long. She came downstairs herself, slowly, gracefully, but with her characteristic aura of irritation, as if every step at 8 a.m. was an unbearable torture. Her face bore that familiar look: “If anyone forces me to come down for breakfast at such an inhumane hour again, I swear I'll tear them apart.”

 

Knowing Rebecca, it was not an empty threat.

 

(And apparently, none of the Mikaelson siblings were early risers.)

 

And yet, even the most menacing looks were powerless when a certain princess was lurking in the hallway. Stiles, who had just completed her first successful “mission” a moment earlier, was already waiting. She saw the woman coming down the stairs and, without hesitation, sprang into action, like a love bullet fired straight into the heart.

 

The little six-year-old, with a force disproportionate to her size, bumped into Rebekah so suddenly and hard that the vampire took a step back. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her arms instinctively rose as if she wasn't sure whether to defend herself or simply accept this unexpected attack.

 

But Stiles had no intention of stopping.

 

The plan was clear.

 

The ritual had to be performed.

 

The girl's arms wrapped around Rebekah's neck and her legs wrapped around her hips. It was a complete, total embrace, one that ignored the laws of gravity, personal space, and common sense. Rebekah froze, as if she had suddenly become a statue.

 

After a few seconds, her hands, still uncertain, a little clumsy, reached out to the child. Gently, carefully, she embraced the girl. As if she were holding something fragile. Something incredibly important.

 

Time stood still. Maybe a minute passed, maybe two, or maybe centuries, until finally the head of dark blond hair lifted from her shoulder, and Stiles looked at her with wide eyes almost the same shade of blue as her own. Their gazes met, and suddenly everything else ceased to exist.

 

“Rebekah!” the little girl's voice rang out, full of the absolute enthusiasm that only a child could have.

 

Rebekah was about to reply when a sound reached her ears from downstairs - a quiet, muffled laugh. It was as if someone in the living room was trying to hold back an outburst, but doing so very ineptly.

 

“You're a princess!” Stiles continued, oblivious to everything else. “The most beautiful! And not just a fairy-tale princess—a real one! I love your prom dress! And your hair! And everything about you! You're awesome! You deserve love and happiness, always, no matter what! Don't listen to others, and follow what you love! Do you understand?”

 

Rebekah opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come. Something about this little creature completely disarmed her, breaking down all the walls she had built around herself over the years. Instead of answering, she just nodded. She felt as if she were in a trance.

 

“Is... this some kind of ritual?” she muttered confusedly, almost in a whisper, still not knowing what to make of it all.

 

“Yes!” Stiles replied proudly, standing tall like a general giving orders. “A ritual for emotionally destabilizing vampires! Or: A CUDDLING RITUAL!!”

 

And before Rebekah could protest or even think, the girl leaned over and kissed her forehead with all her might. Loudly, strongly, without hesitation.

 

“You are important. And you deserve happiness. Lots of happiness! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise!” she added firmly.

 

Then, just as quickly as before, she jumped off her shoulders. Like a little ninja after a successful mission, she turned and ran down the hallway, looking for her next “targets.”

 

And Rebekah?

 

The woman stood rooted to the spot. Her body still remembered the warmth of the child's arms. Stiles' voice still echoed in her head, and the air was filled with a sweet, strawberry-vanilla scent mixed with something difficult to describe but strangely soothing.

 

Rebekah had always had a soft spot for children. She had always dreamed of having her own, even if it was impossible for her. But this one - this small, chaotic, unpredictable creature - stirred something unique in her. She stole her heart in a way she didn't even want to hide.

 

Only after a moment, as if torn from her reverie, did she shake herself and continue down the hall. From the hallway came the same laughter she had barely heard before. Laughter that she now had to find the source of.

 

When she entered the living room, she found the answer.

 

Caroline Forbes was sprawled out on one of their elegant, expensive sofas. The girl was holding her stomach, giggling so maniacally that it was hard to tell if she was laughing or crying with laughter. Kol was sitting next to her, his hair still tousled, still with the same expression, as if he didn't quite know how he had ended up in this scene. His face betrayed a complete lack of answers to any questions.

 

Rebekah looked at Caroline, her eyes full of shock and confusion.

 

“What the hell was that?!” she finally blurted out.

 

Caroline, who was slowly stopping shaking with laughter, looked up at her friend. A broad smile was still on her face, and her eyes sparkled with pure pride.

 

“Mission Cuddles,” she replied briefly, enigmatically, as if that explained everything.

 

 

---

 

 

Little feet echoed throughout the courtyard. A sound that would be almost imperceptible to the human ear was perfectly audible to vampires, carrying through the corridors, echoing off the cool marble walls, penetrating every nook and cranny of this dark, majestic mansion, impossible for anyone to ignore.

 

And Elijah heard it too.

 

Elijah Mikaelson, the oldest and most composed of the siblings, reacted almost immediately. Just a few steps were enough for him to recognize the familiar rhythm and understand that his peace was over. Not just peace. It was something deeper. There was a certain foreshadowing in it that was impossible not to feel, as if a storm was coming, but one that could not be stopped or shut out behind closed doors.

 

Even before, almost at the same moment when the guests arrived at their property, Elijah knew that nothing would be as usual. First, he sensed the presence of Caroline and Stanisława, which aroused only moderate curiosity in him, because why would they come back here so soon after last night? However, the answer came faster than he could have expected. He knew. He knew immediately who had entered their home, carrying that unbridled energy with them. It wasn't just any child.

 

It was Stasia Stilinski.

 

And he found out for sure - twice.

 

He didn't even have to see, or rather hear, her to notice clear signs of her presence in his siblings' behavior.

 

The first was Kol. His mutterings, irritated sighs, and repeated fragments about the “cuddle ritual of emotional destabilization” were so absurd that Elijah couldn't help but laugh. First was Kol. His mutterings, irritated sighs, and repeated fragments about the “cuddle ritual of emotional destabilization” were so absurd that Elijah wasn't sure for a moment if he was hearing correctly. Then there was Rebekah. Her incredulous sigh, that half-whisper that was supposed to be anger but sounded more like suppressed amusement. He knew them. He knew them well. And he knew that if they were reacting like this... his turn was coming too.

 

He could feel... the hug coming.

 

Not that the oldest vampire had anything against hugs. Absolutely not. But the problem was that no one - really no one - had ever tried to hug Elijah Mikaelson out of the blue. (To tell the truth, he himself couldn't remember the last time someone had hugged him. Really hug. Maybe centuries ago. Maybe back when his humanity was more than just a shadow of a memory).

 

Elijah was a man of order. Symmetry. Rules. Prejudices and politeness. He was also a man of ironed cuffs, which could never have even a single crease. And Stasia Stilinski? She didn't care about order or cuffs.

 

That's why, with a book and a cup of coffee in his hand, he hid in the library. Seemingly unconsciously, yet deep down he knew very well that he was trying to avoid the inevitable. He naively hoped that the tornado-hugger wouldn't find him right away, that he could postpone the meeting for at least a few minutes. But even he knew it was just an illusion.

 

And, of course, he was right.

 

Because a moment later, the library door flew open, hitting the wall with a slight bang that echoed through the room.

 

She stood in the doorway. Stasia. Small, petite, but with more determination than many a warrior, with eyes shining like two pieces of sky and a smile that heralded only one thing: a mission was coming.

 

“ELIJAH!!!” she shouted, her voice sounding so clear, so flawless, that for a moment even the walls of the mansion seemed less gloomy.

 

The man slowly put down his book. He raised his eyebrows and sighed heavily, as if he were still trying to believe that he could negotiate peace.

 

“Stanisławo,” he said calmly, with his characteristic seriousness, which he could not shake off even under duress. “Perhaps we should talk first? Tea? Reading?” He was just stalling for time, knowing full well that it was pointless.

 

“No,” she replied with all the determination of a six-year-old. “It's time. Cuddle time.”

 

Stiles took a step forward. Then another.

 

“Stiles,” he said even more gently, raising his hand in a warning, almost fatherly gesture.

 

“Nope,” she replied very seriously.

 

And before he could do anything, or even step back, she disappeared from his field of vision. She reappeared a split second later. She was next to him. No, on him. She clung to him like a magnet, her small arms wrapped around his waist with a strength completely disproportionate to her petite frame.

 

If he hadn't been so shocked by the embrace, he would have focused on her bizarre speed - but at that moment... it didn't matter. What really struck him was the warmth. Her embrace was warm, strong, vulnerable in its sincerity. There was something in it that he hadn't felt in ages.

 

Elijah froze. He had fought werewolves. Demons. Pain, regret, loss. But this? He couldn't fight this. He couldn't move. Not because he physically couldn't-

 

He just didn't want to.

 

“You're my favorite elegant vampire,” Stiles mumbled into his shirt, not letting go for a moment. "You're always calm and wise. And you're a good older brother. And you understand books like no one else. And you have a great face. And you always look like a prince. But... even princes need hugs. Sometimes. Sometimes you're too serious, but you need to relax, you know? You're not alone. Ask someone for help sometimes, okay?"

 

Something stirred inside him. As if someone had unlocked a long-closed door. His heart - old, tired, exposed to too many centuries of suffering - suddenly moved. He closed his eyes. And he hugged her. Not out of politeness. Not because he should. But because... he needed it. Really.

 

“Thank you, Stiles,” he whispered, his voice sounding soft, as if from another world. “I didn't know I was missing this.”

 

Silence enveloped them for a moment, though the house was still bustling with life in the background. Minutes passed, and she stayed with him, as if she knew exactly where the boundary of this moment lay. And finally, she pulled away slowly, and with the same determination with which she had clung to him earlier, she kissed him on the cheek.

 

“Mission Cuddle accomplished,” she announced with the seriousness of a little strategist. “Now it's time for the orginal hybrid.”

 

“The original hybrid?” Elijah raised his eyebrows in confusion. “You mean Klaus?”

 

“Yes,” she nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He needs a big hug too. He's just pretending he doesn't.”

 

And before he could stop her, ask her more questions, or even protest, Stasia had already run out of the library, rushing to the next battlefield. Once again, she left behind only the echo of her footsteps and childish laughter, which carried through the corridors like a spell dispelling the darkness.

 

A moment later, Caroline appeared in the same doorway, leaning lightly against the doorframe.

 

“Are you alive?” she asked him with amusement.

 

Elijah looked at her. A smile appeared on his face—rare, subtle, but genuine.

 

“That child is... extraordinary.”

 

“I know,” Caroline admitted, smiling warmly. “It's impossible not to love her, isn't it?”

 

“No,” he replied quietly. “It's impossible.”

 

 

---

 

 

After Stiles stormed out of the library like a little whirlwind, her goal was clear.

 

Find Klaus Mikaelson. The last, still unconquered, most difficult opponent on the Hug Mission map.

 

This wasn't just any task. For her, it was a matter of the utmost importance. Because if Elijah, the most reserved, composed, and distinguished of all her siblings, had been disarmed by her hug, then now it was time for the real challenge. For the “final boss,” as she had christened him in her six-year-old mind.

 

The problem was that the “final boss” had gone missing. Or maybe he was hiding.

 

But the girl had no intention of giving up. With hurricane-like energy, she raced through the corridors of the mansion. Her shoes hit the floor, her little feet echoing off the marble walls. She ran down the stairs so fast that her hair flew in the air as if blown by the wind, then she rushed around the corners, almost tripping over the carpeted edges, but immediately regained her balance, ready to continue the chase.

 

She looked everywhere. Literally everywhere.

 

To the kitchen, where she glanced quickly at the empty countertops and opened the refrigerator door with a bang, as if the hybrid might accidentally hide between a jar of cucumbers and a bottle of milk.

 

To the garden, where she ran around in circles for a moment, calling his name, as if she expected him to suddenly emerge from behind a rose bush with the grim expression of a drama king.

 

To the dining room, where she even looked under the large, heavy table, just in case the “terrible hybrid” had turned into a cat and hidden in the shadows of the chairs.

 

Even the pantry was searched, and Stiles stood on tiptoe and checked the shelves, muttering under her breath, “Maybe he shrunk. Maybe he turned into a jar of honey. You never know.”

 

Every time she didn't find him where she expected him to be, she slammed the door shut. So loudly that the echo reverberated through the hallways like a fanfare announcing her frustration.

 

“KLAUS?!” she shouted louder and louder. “KLAUUUUUS?! I CAME TO CUDDLE!”

 

Her voice carried like the loud echo of battle trumpets. The vampires heard it perfectly. People throughout the city could probably hear it too, if anyone had their windows open.

 

But there was still no answer.

 

Klaus Mikaelson, lord of chaos, king of sarcasm, master of irony, and self-proclaimed ruler of drama, had disappeared without a trace. Perhaps he was indeed hiding, weary of the shouting, or perhaps he simply wanted a moment of peace for himself. But for Stiles, it meant one thing: even greater determination.

 

When she finally burst into the living room, panting, her cheeks flushed and her hair tousled, she looked as if she had fought a battle with at least three trolls and a pillow fight.

 

Everyone was already there. Well, almost everyone.

 

Caroline sat comfortably on the couch, sipping tea with a clearly amused expression on her face. Kol lay sprawled next to her like a battle casualty, holding his hand to his forehead as if he had just undergone “emotional destruction by a six-year-old.” Rebekah sat more stiffly, trying to maintain her dignity, but her gaze betrayed that she herself did not yet fully understand what had happened. And Elijah... well he sat in his chair, cup of tea in hand, looking completely unmoved. However, his gaze betrayed warmth - something rare, almost unheard of.

 

Stiles stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, and announced in a military tone:

 

“I didn't find him.”

 

“Who?” asked Caroline, raising an eyebrow, even though she knew perfectly well who she was talking about.

 

“Come on, Klaus!” the girl exclaimed indignantly. “Where is he hiding?! I've searched everywhere! Even the pantry! And under the piano! I thought he was stuck there!”

 

Kol burst out laughing so hard he choked.

 

Rebekah turned her head away, covering her mouth with her hand.

 

Elijah just raised an eyebrow, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes.

 

Stiles began pacing around the table, tapping her slippers in time with her growing frustration.

 

“You can't just disappear like that!” she stamped her foot. “How am I supposed to complete the Cuddle Quest if the final boss is hiding like an Easter egg?!”

 

“Maybe he got scared,” Kol said, looking innocent. “After all, it's not every day that someone tries to love you to death out of the blue.”

 

“It's not to death!” Stiles protested, narrowing her eyes. “It's for life! A great life! And a soft one!”

 

Caroline choked on her tea, turning her head to the side to hide her burst of laughter.

 

And then... there was silence. Too sudden, too thick to be accidental.

 

A voice came from behind the girl. Deep, heavy, slightly weary, yet lined with that characteristic note of irony that could not be mistaken for anything else:

 

“May I ask why all my siblings look like they've just been through an emotional flamethrower, and my name is being shouted throughout the house like a battle cry?”

 

Stiles froze. She slowly turned around.

 

And she saw him.

 

Klaus Mikaelson stood in the doorway. His arms were crossed over his chest, his silhouette looked menacing in a gray shirt, and his gaze was cold, piercing, tired, and cautious. There was suspicion in his eyes, but also something else... something that flashed involuntarily, amusement.

 

“What do you want from me, chaos princess?” he asked theatrically.

 

Stiles took a step toward him. Then another. Klaus didn’t move, only raised his eyebrow even higher.

 

“The mission…” the girl began, standing straight as a soldier before a general. “…is not over yet.”

 

“Yes?” he asked curiously. “And what does that mean in practice?”

 

She didn't answer. Instead... she threw herself at him.

 

With all her strength, energy, and the vulnerability of a six-year-old. She hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest, and clasped her arms around him. Still stunned, he muttered under his breath that she would never let go.

 

And there was silence. Absolute. Heavy. Like a spell.

 

Klaus froze. A second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Kol opened his mouth like a fish, unable to find the words. Rebekah looked as if she had just seen a unicorn in the kitchen. Caroline put her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. Elijah sighed inwardly: “Oh no. Now it's his turn.”

 

Finally, Klaus lowered his arms, which he had been holding crossed over his chest. Very carefully, almost as if he were touching flames, he placed his hands on her back.

 

“This is... surprising,” he muttered.

 

“You're awesome,” Stiles said quietly. "Even when you make scary faces. I know you're good. Inside. And you're not alone. No one should be alone. Even if they have a lot of power. Remember that you have a family, they love you and you love them. You should be together even when things are bad. That's what family is for. And trust those who love you, okay?"

 

Klaus fell silent. Something appeared in his eyes that no one had seen in a long time. Something delicate, hidden deep beneath layers of anger and sarcasm.

 

He looked as if he wanted to say something... but couldn't.

 

Instead, he hugged her tighter.

 

Without a word.

 

And in the living room, no one spoke. No one moved. Time seemed to stand still, because the least cuddled person in the world, someone who had condemned himself to loneliness, was being embraced by a small child. And that had more power than any magic he knew.

 

But Klaus couldn't deny it. It was more than comforting.

 

However, the girl in his arms wasn't waiting for an answer or any action. She lifted her head from his shoulder again, brushed her lips against his temple like a stamp ending a ritual, and whispered in a tone that was both sweet and deadly serious, as if in secret:

 

“If you hurt Caroline, I'll ruin your life.” And before he could even get indignant, she kissed him on the cheek and smiled broadly. “A princess's promise.”

 

Klaus blinked. Once. Twice. His hand involuntarily clenched the fabric of Stiles' shirt on his back, as if he had to make sure that this child really existed and that he had just uttered a threat that others would not even think of directing at him. And yet, in his eyes, where coldness and irony usually smoldered, there was something that could be mistaken for... amusement.

 

“Cheeky,” he muttered with a delay. It didn't sound like a rebuke. More like praise, full of amusement, but praise nonetheless.

 

“That's how natural leaders are,” Caroline said from the couch, getting to her feet. She walked closer and stopped right in front of him. For a moment, their eyes met; they contained everything: wakefulness after a long night, a hint of a smile, something unsaid. “And leaders know when it's time to evacuate.”

 

“Evacuate?” Rebekah frowned, though there was a note of hope in her voice that someone would explain this whole cuddling charade.

 

“Yes!” Stiles slid out of the hybrid's embrace with the grace of a small cat, but lingered on his forearm for a second, as if she didn't want to lose contact. “Final stage.” She let go of him, turned around, and waved to everyone like an audience after a performance. “Thank you for your cooperation!”

 

“Is... is that it?” Kol jumped up to a sitting position.

 

Caroline just glanced at her watch. “Yep! I promised we'd be back before noon, before my mother wakes up and starts asking why we smell like vanilla shampoo and drama again.” 

 

She leaned over to Klaus, as if to adjust his collar... and, completely unnecessarily, left a quick but strong kiss on his lips. “For yesterday. And for today.” She said it lightly, as if thanking him for passing the salt at dinner, but her fingers touched his wrist for a moment. Just a moment.

 

The hybrid froze. Rebekah cleared her throat with a feigned sound of disgust, Kol let out a sound that sounded a little like “there's a baby here!”, and Elijah raised his eyebrows so high that they almost disappeared into his hair.

 

“We have to go!” Stiles decided, already halfway to the door. “Caroline, plan delta! Friendly evacuation, but quick!”

 

“Plan delta,” Caroline confirmed, nodding, grabbing the little hand and backing toward the exit. “No panic, no goodbyes, lots of charm, no explanations.”

 

“Wait!” Rebekah hurriedly took a step toward them. “Are... are we going to find out what those hugs were all about after-?”

 

A slam. The door closed with a soft thud, cutting the question short. For a second, the echo of a child's giggle and the clatter of little shoes on the porch steps could still be heard. Then there was a silence so complete that all that could be heard was Kol dramatically exhaling.

 

“...all?” Rebekah finished helplessly, staring at the wood.

 

“I'm afraid not today, sister,” Elijah concluded, putting down his cup as gently as if he were putting down the conclusions of a treaty. “It was, however, an exceptionally... interesting experience.”

 

“Interesting? Experience?” Kol snorted. “It was a carpet bombing of our defenses.” His gaze wandered to Klaus's cheek. “By the way, brother, you have a sparkle of glitter here.” He pointed with his thumb.

 

Klaus ran his hand over his face, as if trying to wipe away more than just a speck of glitter. It was no use. Microscopic dust from a child's kiss still glistened on his temple, and something twitched in the corners of his mouth, mercilessly betraying him to his siblings. For a second, the hybrid could still see the small hands clenching his shirt and hear the whisper that sounded more like an oath than a threat. It wasn't magic. It was worse. It was human.

 

There was a moment of silence, but it wasn't an awkward silence. Rather, it was the kind where everyone simultaneously arrives at the same, dangerously simple truth. However, it was Rebekah who broke it first.

 

“It looks like,” Rebekah interlaced her fingers, glancing at her brothers, “Stasia Stilinski has just wrapped our whole family around her little finger.”

 

For a moment, everyone was silent again, as if they were really raising a toast. Kol was the first to break it:

 

“And yet I don't know what's more disturbing: that the hybrid is smiling, or that I'm not disgusted by it.”

 

“You'll get used to it,” Rebekah waved her hand.

 

Klaus didn't react immediately. He walked over to the window. There was no sign of Caroline's silver car in the driveway. All that remained was a swaying leaf and a ribbon of light moving across the parquet floor. Slowly, reluctantly, like someone allowing himself the luxury of one unnecessary gesture, he touched his temple, where a light kiss had fallen a moment earlier.

 

For hundreds of years, and even longer, no one on earth, except occasionally each other, had shown them such affection. They could admit that they had important people in their lives whom they pursued with feelings, and in some cases it might have been mutual, but no one, literally no one, looked at them the way little Stasia did.

 

The girl did not look at them through the prism of their vampirism or the actions they might have committed in the past, and which they had committed. She looked at them as if they were her equals. As if they were human beings. Making mistakes, many mistakes, but human beings nonetheless. And that was something they had never encountered before. Even when they themselves were human.

 

“It's not weakness,” he finally said quietly but clearly. “It's a choice.”

 

“And responsibility,” Elijah added.

 

“And trouble,” Kol concluded with a crooked smile. “Our favorite.”

 

Rebekah laughed briefly, genuinely. Such laughter was not often heard in this mansion. And yet today it echoed off the walls like something that would linger.

 

And although the girls had long since disappeared, leaving them with questions that would never be answered immediately, one thing was clear even without words:

 

The Mikaelsons—each in their own way, each on their own terms—felt connected to little Stilinski. They considered her their own. They had fallen, and hard. Too hard to pretend it was temporary. Too sincere to be called a mere whim of fate.

 

And that meant only one thing: the game was just beginning. And this time, it wasn't blood, war, or blood oaths that kept them in check, but something much more risky. Attachment.

 

Notes:

So that's it, I guess?
I don't have any ideas for a sequel at the moment, maybe I'll write something extra someday, but not for now. If you have any ideas or anything like that, let me know. I can't promise anything, but I'll try.
But yeah, that's it.
I hope you enjoyed the story and the extra chapters. Your comments were all wonderful, and thank you for your reception of it!

Notes:

Yes, I changed Stiles' Polish name, but she/he still hates it.

Stasia is a shortened form of Stanisława.

I hope you like it, and I'd love to hear your comments ❤

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Forbes & Stilinski Cross