TBBW - there's too many posts to choose between for this one, so here's just a link to the fic lol

Divided We Fall

Falling For You

Songs of the Sea

Over 20k+ of brand new content. This includes two new chapters (chapter 2 & 4 respectively) and around 20 or more new scenes to devour across the entirety of the fic.

Original scenes have been tweaked and expanded upon, with longer conversations or scenes between characters.

All punctuation, grammar and spelling has been proof read repeatedly. I won't say it's all perfect, because I've probably still missed bits, but its in a much better state than it was before. Dialogue grammar in particular has had a complete overhaul, which should make everything much easier to read.

Each chapter has song lyrics at the beginning, fitting the vibes or themes of the chapter. This is a part of a playlist that I will share in Running With Wolves after completing the editing to The Big Bad Wolf (which has it's own share of songs, compiled with a mix of the music I listen to while writing and music I feel embodies each chapter).

In a similar thread, new timestamps have been added whenever there is a time or location jump. Again, this is a change that will be happening to The Big Bad Wolf as well to make flashbacks clearer. Upon completion of TBBW's edit, a timeline will be added to Running With Wolves so you can see all of the events that take place in the series in chronological order.

Historical accuracy has been given a bigger focus. Obviously, there's still a need for suspension of disbelief (vikings never travelled that far south in America, horses weren't introduced to America until the 1500s etc) as I'm no history buff and I personally believe you can allow a little leeway for sake of creative freedom. However, that said, I've tried to right the most egregious wrongs by Julie Plec: the white washing of the native Americans, the almost European-Christian culture of the Mikaelsons' village (views on bastards, women like Rebekah not carrying arms and being all innocently feminine even though they were warrriors too in viking culture, lack of historical accuracy in settings/costumes/props etc) and of course, the complete lack of explanation behind how the vikings arrived in Southern America. Hopefully it should feel more alive, and I'll probably add even more in the final FINAL edit that will happen once I've finished TBBW.

The Little Wolf's main focus is Klaus' characterisation arc. However, in this rewrite, all the Mikaelson siblings get more screen time and you get their characterisation arcs in the background, as a treat.

Henrik is much more fleshed out as a character. He's mischievous and playful, a lot like Kol, with other attributes from the other siblings thrown in. He's also got more Youngest Sibling energy, just as the other siblings have Middle Child/Eldest Child energy, because in a fic about family, really that's the most important detail of them all.

I've delved deeper into Mikael and Esther's treatment of Klaus and how it wasn't much different to how they treated the other siblings after all. Don't get me wrong - in my mind Klaus was dealt the worst of Mikael's physical fury, but I don't believe 'he was singled out' is as black and white as the show would lead you to believe. That's not how abusive households work.

Talking about Klaus' characterisation, think of this fic as the death of Niklaus Mikaelson, leading to the birth of Klaus, The Original Hybrid. The Little Wolf leading the way for The Big, Bad Wolf. You'll get innocent baby boi Niklaus of course, but that same innocent kid has a feral side. When you become a vampire, it heightens who you already are and Klaus - he had that fury and violence in him all along, and it wasn't just because of the wolf.

In a lot of human-era Originals fics and the actual shows, when they're turned into vampires its all very planned out. Idk, like Esther and Mikael are evil villains twirling their moustaches? Turning their children into vampires, its all very pre-meditated, oh the horror and everything. And although there is elements of that in this rewrite (they ARE shitty, evil parents after all) I tried to do something a little original myself. In this fic, more focus is given to the family's grief and how Henrik's death becomes the shatterpoint for EVERYTHING. His death causes every bad decision made by the family from that moment on. It's less of "I planned to make my children the most powerful beings to ever walk this earth" and more of "I tried to save my children and didn't expect ANY of this so wtf do I do now, another bad decision? Yeah let's do that". You feel me? Hopefully that comes across anyways.

Okay what haven't I mentioned yet... WEREWOLF LORE. Yeah that's been expanded on and fleshed out some more. You get a glimpse into my take on how the werewolf gene is triggered, along with a coming of age ritual, general culture, outsider prejudice against werewolves etc...Klaus' views on them is much more explored, especially in relation to his heritage. Kinda playing with the idea that him being a bastard was never the problem to Mikael or Klaus - it was him being a werewolf.

Since I started re-writing this I watched way too many of Mike Flanagan's series'. So I kinda went all 'Midnight Mass' on the Mikaelson's village. Oopsies.

In a similar thread, the raven from the Fall of The House of Usher left a bigger impact on me than I like to admit. That's something so sexy about an omen of death okay leave me alone I NEED THE FORESHADOWING

Mystic Falls, Virginia.

Present

Caroline woke to her body feeling like it was on fire.

She immediately gagged, the agonising burn reaching into her throat and smothering her lungs, wrapping around them like a vice. She started coughing, harsh, full-body spasming things that felt like she was hacking up her insides, and it was only when she blinked her eyes open and saw the haze in the air, feeling the sting hitting eyes, that she realised she could smell vervain.

Trying to fight the instinct to heave in more air, well aware each breath was poison, Caroline pushed herself into a sitting position, blearily looking around at her surroundings as her eyes welled with tears from the sting. She didn’t recognise where she was. Wooden slats surrounded her on all sides, hay and dirt shifting under her fingertips, like the inside of some kind of pen. And then there was the door, modified with metal bars, welded haphazardly together. She was in some kind of-

Cage.

Her heart stuttered, chest tightening with familiar panic, knowing what usually came next. 

No. No, no, not again-

“Caroline?” A weak, quiet voice called out.

Caroline would recognise that voice anywhere.

She looked up, through the bars of the door, past the space in the middle - were they in some kind of barn? - towards the cell on the other side. Elena was leant against the side in different clothes from last night, skin sickly pale, a hand reaching out to clutch the bars as she tried her hardest to focus on Caroline.

“Elena?!” Caroline gasped, that one word sending her into another harsh fit of coughs. God, the vervain was so strong- “What’s hap-”

“They thought she was a vampire. So they stuck her in here with us.” Came another voice, raspy from the vervain, this time from Caroline’s left.

Her head swam, vision blurring from her stinging eyes, but she managed to squint through the gaps in the slats of wood, making out Rebekah sitting on the other side with her back to against the wall, skin equally pale and shining with sweat, looking somehow bored by their current predicament. 

Caroline swallowed. If they’d caught Rebekah… what hope did they have?

Slowly, Caroline pulled herself into a sitting position, using the bars of the cell door to heave herself up and letting her weight fall back against the side wall with a rattle as the wooden planks shook under her weight. She coughed again from the simple movement, the air too thick from vervain and clean oxygen too scarce. She couldn’t see where it was coming from, but there had to be a vent somewhere.

“Stefan?” She called out in question when she got her voice back.

“Over here.” He croaked back, his voice coming from across from her, to Elena’s left.

Caroline felt her hope sink to her stomach, feeling the urge to cry for a very different reason. “Damon?” She asked quietly.

“Bloody bastard got away and left me to those fools.” Rebekah spat out from her left.

Stefan scoffed from his cell. “Those fools caught you, didn’t they?”

Rebekah’s response could only be described as petulant. “Shut up, Stefan.”

Caroline tried to get to her feet, holding onto the wooden wall and cell door for support, only to give up halfway and drop back to the floor, feeling like she was about to pass out. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shove down the nausea. “Where are we?”

“Don’t know.” Rebekah answered, voice dry. “Don’t particularly care.”

“There has to be a way out-”

“Already tried. The vervain’s too strong. It makes us too weak.” Rebekah cut across from her, realising a truly aggrieved sigh. “Even I can’t shift it.”

“Caroline’s right. We need to find a way out.” Stefan rasped, a shuffle of movement following suit, making Caroline think he probably was trying to stand too.

“Speak for yourself.” Rebekah snapped back with a little laugh. “I’m quite happy watching Elena die. I wouldn’t give the accommodation any stars, but the entertainment’s top notch.”

Caroline turned to look back at Elena, who was now glaring in Rebekah’s direction. When she saw Caroline looking though, her face crumpled, eyes darting down and refusing to meet Caroline’s gaze.

“Elena?” Caroline called out, a begging note to her voice, hoping desperately that what Rebekah said wasn’t true. Stefan had said she was in transition, right? And if the council thought she was a vampire, that probably meant she had turned, so she couldn’t be dying, not unless they had gotten a hold of werewolf venom-

“I haven’t fed yet.” Elena whispered, and Caroline’s eyes widened.

She was still in transition.

She hadn’t fed.

Just like her Dad.

Did she- No, don’t be stupid, Caroline. Of course Elena didn’t want to be a vampire. Of course she would hesitate. With Alaric dead, maybe they had thought they had time, that they were safe for a second. It wasn’t an easy decision. Even so, it didn’t change that Caroline couldn’t understand why she didn’t feed. Couldn’t understand why her father had rather died, than become the same thing as his only daughter-

“Why?” Caroline gasped out, needing Elena to explain, to make her see. Because she couldn’t. Die or become a vampire - if Caroline had to choose, she would choose vampirism in a heartbeat, because at least then she could live, even if she was no longer alive.

(And even without the threat of death, a small part of Caroline whispered, she’d still choose vampirism over humanity. She liked the person she had become).

“Bonnie said she could fix it.” Elena admitted, her voice sad and defeated, as if she knew how foolishly hopeful she had been.

Caroline wanted to yell at her. To tell her yes, she was foolish. A thousand years and no one has escaped vampirism yet - what could Bonnie do to change that? Why weigh all that hope on their friend? She’d told Elena before that Bonnie always seemed to end up in the crossfire, and this was why, because Elena didn’t recognise when Bonnie was being a self-sacrificing idiot. 

She didn’t say any of this though. Didn’t yell or scream. Caroline didn’t have the energy for it. Not anymore. Elena already knew anyway, was already blaming herself for getting them all in this mess. She didn’t need Caroline repeating her own berating thoughts.

After a while, Elena gathered the courage to speak again. “Caroline, your mom-”

Caroline closed her eyes, fighting the urge to break down. It wouldn’t help. “They arrested her. She can’t help.”

It was silent for a while, none of them knowing what else to say. Even Rebekah didn’t offer a scathing comment.

“We’ll find a way. You’ll be alright, Elena.” Stefan declared eventually, sounding so certain Caroline almost believed him.

________

The first time Klaus killed a man, it was a mistake. An accident. A slip of control. 

He had always known one day he would take a life, that one day he’d have to swing his sword and go for the killing blow, and not the playful parry he would exchange with the likes of Elijah or Kol. Mikael always claimed he didn’t have the stomach for it, that when the moment came, Klaus would freeze and his enemy would slay him where he stood. For a long time, those words haunted him, still too much the little boy who would bring baby starlings to his mother’s door hoping she could save them, rescuing the little feathery things after they fell from the safety of their nest. Or still too much the wiry teenager who handed the knife to his younger sister when he couldn’t bring himself to slit the trembling rabbit’s throat, caught in one of their father’s traps. Rebekah always was better with a knife than he was, he used to tell himself. It wasn’t because he was weak. It wasn’t.

He forced himself to believe that it would be different, that for family, he would do anything to save them. Even if it meant staring his enemy in the eye and watching the life drain from their eyes.

But the first time he killed a man, Klaus didn’t look into his eyes as he died. He was too busy ripping apart the man’s throat, gorging on the blood gushing out of his carotid artery, vision white from the euphoria and bloodlust, finally, finally quenching his thirst. Then he moved onto the next villager, a girl a few years older than him this time, one that he once picked flowers for back when he was fourteen summers old and hopelessly sweet on her. She wouldn’t stop screaming, he would remember afterwards, but in the moment he was too busy feeding to notice because he was so, so hungry and he just wanted his throat to stop hurting, why did it hurt so much? 

And why was the girl’s skin cold under his touch? Why were his clothes soaked in blood? W-Why was he out on a full moon? Why, mother, why, why does it hurt so much-

His victims did not die an honourable death. He wasn’t slaying his enemies in battle, carving a tally of his kills onto the pommel of his sword like Mikael used to do. This wasn’t even a fair fight.

This was a slaughter.

Those first few decades as a vampire - even the first century - were stained by the blood on his hands he never did quite wash off, no matter how hard he scrubbed them raw. Back then he still had some slither of mercy; back before Niklaus became Klaus.

And that was the lesson he learned the hard way: this world had no room for Niklaus, the little boy who crushed flowers and berries into paint and saved little starlings that had fallen from the nest. This world was cruel and vicious, and if Klaus wanted to survive, he’d have to be cruel and vicious too. Ruthless. Dangerous.

One might say he succeeded in that goal far too well.

Blood sprayed across the walls, bodies dropping left and right as he tore through the soldiers, teeth bared and claws extended. His monstrous visage flashed in the darkness every time a gun fired, the flash of the bullet illuminating his form for barely a second before he attacked, the last sight the soldiers saw before they met their end. Even their vervain and wolfsbane-laced bullets couldn’t stop him; the hybrid moving too fast for them to aim accurately, any lucky shots only enraging him further, lethal fangs going for the throat in a vicious display of violence.

One by one, the soldiers fell. And one by one, Klaus let the snarl twist and curl across his face, driven feral by the maddening smell of blood in the air. Eventually, only one soldier remained, a frightened cadet all alone in the dark. The man shakily raised his gun, aiming for centre mass.

Klaus pounced, grabbing the assault rifle with one hand and pointing it to the ceiling just as the soldier opened fire. In a single motion, Klaus had thrust his hand into the soldier’s chest, clawing through his insides and tearing out the heart without hesitation. It was over in seconds, the soldier’s heart falling from Klaus’ fingers moments after the body fell.

A fierce grin stretched across his blood-splattered face and Klaus raised his hand, about to lick the blood off his fingers. Then a gun cocked behind his head.

Klaus froze.

“Don’t move, beast.” A voice spat.

Klaus dared to tilt his head slightly in the hunter’s direction. He couldn’t be killed, but even a wooden bullet to the head would still knock him out for the foreseeable future, and he’d rather not give the human such an opportunity to incapacitate him. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

He considered possible paths to take, calculated whether he was fast enough to dodge the bullet at such close range. Klaus decided to take the chance. He raised his hands slowly, faking surrender. Unknown to the hunter, his eyes were blazing yellow, black veins crawling across his cheeks as his fangs erupted from his gums.

Then he spun, a blur of motion-

Muscles tensing, senses firing-

Eyes widening at the sight of the barrel of the gun closer than he guessed-

Suddenly, he was shoved backwards as another blur pushed the hunter’s handgun to the side as it fired, the bullet only just skimming its intended target - his head. Klaus stared as Caroline leaped onto the soldier’s front, legs around his waist, golden hair flying around her like a halo, tearing away the protective gear that covered the human’s neck and sinking her fangs into his carotid artery. The human screamed, deafening, piercing in its agony, Caroline ravaging the flesh at his neck. In a matter of seconds, she had snapped his spine, falling with his body to the concrete floor that was already stained red with pools of the hunter’s blood.

Silence fell.

Caroline’s heavy breaths were the only thing that broke it. Klaus watched as she slowly got to her feet, stumbling slightly as she tripped over the body, turning around to face him. Her lips and the skin around her mouth were bloody, the red liquid dripping down her chin and smearing her beautiful complexion. A few strands of her golden hair were sticky, smothered in blood, framing her furious expression as she kicked the prone body for good measure. Her chest heaved as she regained her breath, neck flushed from exertion, drawing his attention to her cleavage.

Klaus swallowed, all the heat in his body travelling south.

“Caroline.” He breathed softly, barely believing she was standing in front of him after all these years. Their eyes met, and for a moment time seemed to slow, Klaus reminded of the last time she had looked at him like that, watching him leave that day in the woods.

Then that moment was broken, Caroline’s eyes flickering to something over his shoulder, widening in panic.

“GET DOWN!”

For the second time that night, Caroline rushed towards him in a blur of supernatural speed, slamming into him and sending them both crashing to the ground. Bullets tore through the air in the spot where their bodies had previously been standing, one catching Caroline’s shoulder as they fell. Hearing her cry, Klaus instantly wrapped a hand round her waist, flashing them to safety behind an alcove, the bullets trying to follow them. He pushed her as close to the wall as he could, shielding her body with his own.

Then he waited.

In less than a minute, the bullets stopped, and the soldier that had caught them unaware was cursing, scrambling to reload. Klaus snarled, flashing out of cover and straight towards the soldier, grabbing him by the neck before he could even raise his gun. Lifting him high into the air with one arm, Klaus felt his fangs drop, revealing his monstrous visage, delighting in the terror flooding the hunter’s face. With a great heave of his hybrid strength, he threw the hunter through the nearest window, smashing the glass with a loud shatter and sending the screaming human to plummet to his death.

“Klaus?”

He turned immediately at her hushed call, flashing to her side. She had stood up, stepped away from the wall and was inspecting the wound on the shoulder, hissing slightly as she moved her clothing out the way.

“Are you alright?” He asked worriedly, hands moving to help her.

Caroline grumbled, hissing again as he caught a particularly tender spot. “I’m fine.”

“It grazed you-” He realised, concern rising upon seeing the burnt flesh.

“I said I’m fine.” She snapped.

Klaus stepped back, letting his hands fall, smothering the flash of hurt that spiked in his chest momentarily. As far as how he had imagined their reunion, this was certainly more similar to one of his more morose versions, cooked up on particularly despairing days when a bottle of bourbon was close by. Something of the emotion must have shown on his face, or perhaps he recoiled too quickly at her curt outburst, as Caroline looked up at him guiltily. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled, looking at her feet, the dried tear tracks on her face noticeable to him for the first time in the moonlight glinting through the window. Klaus clenched his jaw, wishing he had the time and security to tear every hunter in the building apart.

“Don’t be, love.” He said quietly, pushing the bloodied strands of hair away from her face. “It’s good to know you haven’t changed.” He tried to remark lightly, but it fell flat, both of them aware that although they hadn’t changed for the most part, still them, the world around them had.

Klaus glanced in both directions, checking again that the coast was clear. After all that gunfire, there was no doubt more soldiers on the way. They needed to move.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand, their fingers interlocking with ease, “we need to get out of here.”

He moved, stepping away, intending to pull her with him, but Caroline planted her feet, refusing to move as she shook her head.

“No, Klaus, I have to find Bonnie!” She protested.

The Bennet witch?

Klaus frowned. “Caroline-”

“She wasn’t there for the blast, she must be still alive-” She rambled hysterically, backing up and pulling away from his grip, dodging him as he tried to grab her again. She turned, eyes wild, looking in the direction he had seen her run from. Was she thinking of going back? Surely she wasn’t that idiotic.

She started to move, and Klaus realised she wasn’t idiotic, just still as self-sacrificing and infuriatingly loyal as he remembered her to be.

“Caroline.” He snarled, managing to snag her uninjured shoulder, spinning her to face him. “If the witch is still alive, and if she has any sense, she’ll be running just like us-”

“What if she isn’t? What if they’ve captured her?” She snarled right back, angry and hurt and afraid-

“Then getting yourself killed by going back isn’t going to help her!” He yelled in her face, eyes flashing hybrid gold.

Caroline froze, flinching in his grip as his voice rose.

-Turns out he was afraid too.

He swallowed, his hands dropping from her shoulders, letting her step backwards, away from him. His arms rose again, hands twitching towards her, as if trying to comfort her but realising too late he was now the object of her unease. “Caroline, please.” He begged, eyes softening, and offered her his hand. “Come with me.”

He watched as she looked down the hallway, back towards where the soldiers had come from, screams faintly piercing the silence if you listened closely. Then she turned back to him, meeting his eyes. One last tear fell, sliding down her blood stained cheek.

“We’ll find Bonnie after?” She asked, voice small and broken.

Klaus swallowed.

“I promise.” He vowed. “But now we need to run.”

A moment passed. Caroline bit her lip. Then, slowly, she placed her hand in his and nodded.

Klaus breathed a sigh of relief.

He pulled her towards him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and bringing her close to his side, glancing behind them as they began to walk away at a hurried pace. “Come on, I’ve got you, love.”

The poor boy looked between the three of them, glancing between Damon and Stefan first, before turning to Klaus. Clearly, he was smart enough to realise the futility of arguing with two young vampires just so he could be there when a hybrid who could tear his arms off as easily as he tore through paper started a fight. He sighed, giving up, and left the doorway to retreat upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

Klaus eyed the two brothers now Jeremy was gone, gaze deciding to settle on Stefan.

“Poor lad. Loses one questionable father figure only to be replaced by the likes of the two of you.”

Damon flashed a false smile, perhaps annoyed at the lack of attention directed at him. “Yeah. About that - something happened.”

“Oh, I know all about my mother’s invulnerable creation. That’s why I’m here.” Klaus said to Damon, his friendly voice equally fake. “I’m leaving town. Just here to pick up a few road trip necessities.” He glanced at Stefan, grin widening to show his teeth. “Spare tire, flashlight… doppelgänger. ”

Damon huffed a laugh and offered another falsely sweet smile, grabbing the door to close it. “Can’t help you there!”

The door slammed shut, close enough that it made Klaus step back a little. The grin dropped from his face.