Fic: Aurora
Title: Aurora
Author: lit_chick08
Pairing: Elijah/Elena
Rating: R
Warning: non-explicit sex
Word Count:
Spoilers: through 2x22 "As I Lay Dying"
Disclaimer: These characters belong to LJ Smith, Kevin Williamson, and Julie Plec
Summary: Elijah only wants to be helpful
After Klaus has skipped town with Stefan, Elijah starts to notice how run down Elena has become. She no longer seems to pulse with vivaciousness, to exude life with every step; her eyes do not sparkle with light and laughter has disappeared from her body entirely. Now when Elijah sees her, she is a shell of her former self; she has the look of someone who has been irreparably broken and Elijah feels a great deal of responsibility for that.
He had allowed Klaus to manipulate him, to use his longing for the return of his family to cloud his judgment. Klaus needed to die, and Elijah had swore to Elena he would make that happen. But instead she had lost the last remaining parents she had, had lost her own life, and did not even have the satisfaction of knowing the monster who stole from her was dead. Elijah fully expected her to despise him as much as everyone else did, but instead she was curiously logical about the entire situation.
"If I had the chance to get everyone I lost back, I would have let him kill everyone in this town," Elena confessed one night, her voice dull, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow. "You wanted your siblings back. I get that. And you want to stop him, want to help get Stefan back. That's nice of you. But I will never trust you again."
The proclamation stung so sharply, Elijah suddenly felt human again.
He doesn't leave Mystic Falls. He knows he should; there's nothing left for him there, no allies to make, no bargains to be struck. Bonnie wants to kill him, Damon frequently promises to do so, and the others do not trust him anymore than Elena does. Elijah has always considered himself to be an honorable man, and he hates it, how quickly he traded his honor for the false promises offered by his little brother. Klaus had sensed the desperation in him, the overwhelming sense of loneliness, and he had exploited that. Elijah should have known better, and he curses himself for falling for it every minute of every day.
One night, as he walks the streets of Mystic Falls, the half-moon's light filtering in through the trees, he notices the light on in Elena's bedroom. Elijah knows it is nearly 3am, that it is a "school night," and he finds himself unbearably intrigued. He is outside her window with almost no effort, and he finds Elena sitting crosslegged on her bed, a vervain dart in one hand, a stake in the other. Pure terror is written all over her beautiful features, and Elijah suddenly knows why she has appeared so dull lately.
Stefan has an invitation to her house, to the boardinghouse; Klaus has a particularly sick sense of humor. Elijah would not put it past his brother to make Stefan, in the depths of his blood lust, return to Mystic Falls and kill Elena; and, judging by Elena's defensive posture, neither does she.
Elijah leaves that night, the image of Elena's pained face remaining in his head.
* * *
For six days, he returns to her house in the middle of the night and, for six days, Elijah witnesses her nightly vigil, the reluctant warrior turned frightened child. He observes her every night and during the day witnesses the way she stumbles through life, and Elijah knows this cannot go on. She has weakened herself to the point of total collapse; even if Klaus or Stefan did return, she would be no match for them.
On the seventh day, he enters her room.
She immediately gets to her feet, squeezing the dart so tightly it threatens to shatter in her hand, and he immediately raises his palms.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he assures her.
"Then why are you here?" she demands, her grip on her weapons never faltering.
"Because I want to help."
"Help?"
Elijah sinks onto the windowseat, keeping a careful distance from her. "I will keep watch. You need to sleep."
"No," Elena immediately objects.
"I know you cannot trust me," Elijah interrupts gently, "but you can trust I will not let anything happen to you."
Elena meets his gaze for several long beats before slowly nodding, setting the dart and the stake on her bedside table. Elijah politely turns his head as she slips beneath her covers, settling against the pillows, and he waits for the sound of her regular breathing.
"Elijah?" she ventures, her words slurring with exhaustion.
"Yes, Elena?"
"Will you be here in the morning?"
"Do you want me to be?"
She is quiet for so long, Elijah believes she has fallen asleep. And then, after several minutes, Elena whispers, "I don't know what I want anymore."
Elijah leaves when she begins to stir, staying away until the following night. Elena is already in bed, and she visibly relaxes as he takes a seat at her window.
During the second week of his nightly vigils, she ventures, "You know...you don't have to stay on the window all the time."
Elijah quirks an eyebrow, waiting.
Twisting her blankets in her hands, Elena mumbles, "I mean, if you want, you could...That is, would you..."
"Would I what?"
"Would you hold me?" she asks in a tiny voice.
Elijah removes his coat, setting it on the cushion as he rises. He toes off his shoes, acutely aware of her eyes upon him, and, when he slips into bed beside her, Elijah realizes he is nervous. It has been a very long time since he has shared a bed with a human woman and even longer still since he shared a bed with someone for whom he had feelings.
She fits neatly against his body, her back against his chest. He wraps his arms around her, and he resists the urge to tremble when she entwines her fingers with his; it is such a uniquely human gesture, it only serves to underscore just how long Elijah has been removed from humanity.
"Do you just come here every night because you feel guilty for breaking your word?"
Elijah shakes his head, knowing she can feel the movements against her neck.
"Then why do you come?"
"For the same reason you let me come."
"I make you feel safe?"
Elijah chuckles mirthlessly. "Oh, Elena, you make me feel anything but safe."
She turns in his arms, and suddenly her face is only inches from his; with only the light of the moon illuminating her face, she has never looked less like Katerina, especially when a quizzical expression crosses her beautiful face.
"What do I make you feel?"
He doesn't intend to kiss her, but, once he has begun, Elijah finds he cannot quite make himself stop. If she had said no or pushed at his shoulders, Elijah knows he would find a way to deny himself this, but instead she sinks her fingers into his hair and opens her lips to allow his tongue to tangle with hers.
He always forgets how hot humans are, especially when their hearts are pounding the way Elena's is. Elijah slips his hands beneath the hem of her camisole, pressing his palms against the smooth skin of her torso, enjoying the shiver she gives as he carefully cups her breasts. He brushes his thumbs against her nipples and swallows the moan which leaves her lips.
Elijah undresses her with an almost clinical precision, carefully cataloguing her responses to different touches, varying pressures. He sees the flash of insecurity in her eyes, and instantly Elijah knows she is wondering if he is comparing her to those who have come before her, those who have worn her face and body, those who have laid waste to men for centuries.
He kisses a small, circular scar just beneath her collarbone and waits. It takes her a moment to understand the silent question and she immediately volunteers, "Chicken pox when I was three."
His fingers run the length of a shiny scar on her lower stomach.
"I had my appendix out when I was ten."
Elijah feels her entire body shudder as his tongue presses against a rough patch of skin on the outside of her upper thigh.
"Crashed my bike when I was eight."
He has no scars, no indications he had been human once; there is nothing to hint at who he once was, and Elijah envies her this, the physical proof of the life she has lived.
When he pushes inside of her, Elena cries out against his shoulder, and Elijah quivers at the feel of her teeth ghosting against his skin. She is warm, wet, and deliciously tight, and Elijah suddenly knows this one time will never be enough.
He switches their positions easily, pulling her firmly atop him, and Elijah watches hungrily as Elena rises and falls against him, her head tilted back in pleasure, soft gasps and whimpers escaping her lips. Elijah keeps one hand on her hip, following her movements, and Elena reaches for his free hand, twisting their fingers together, squeezing his hand as her inner walls pulse around him, bringing him over the edge.
As she collapses against his chest, Elijah strokes her back softly, her skin dewy with sweat; he tastes salt when he rolls her onto her back, his tongue tracing the line of her collarbone.
Elena falls asleep in his arms, her limbs entwined with his.
As always, Elijah watches her sleep.
Author: lit_chick08
Pairing: Elijah/Elena
Rating: R
Warning: non-explicit sex
Word Count:
Spoilers: through 2x22 "As I Lay Dying"
Disclaimer: These characters belong to LJ Smith, Kevin Williamson, and Julie Plec
Summary: Elijah only wants to be helpful
After Klaus has skipped town with Stefan, Elijah starts to notice how run down Elena has become. She no longer seems to pulse with vivaciousness, to exude life with every step; her eyes do not sparkle with light and laughter has disappeared from her body entirely. Now when Elijah sees her, she is a shell of her former self; she has the look of someone who has been irreparably broken and Elijah feels a great deal of responsibility for that.
He had allowed Klaus to manipulate him, to use his longing for the return of his family to cloud his judgment. Klaus needed to die, and Elijah had swore to Elena he would make that happen. But instead she had lost the last remaining parents she had, had lost her own life, and did not even have the satisfaction of knowing the monster who stole from her was dead. Elijah fully expected her to despise him as much as everyone else did, but instead she was curiously logical about the entire situation.
"If I had the chance to get everyone I lost back, I would have let him kill everyone in this town," Elena confessed one night, her voice dull, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow. "You wanted your siblings back. I get that. And you want to stop him, want to help get Stefan back. That's nice of you. But I will never trust you again."
The proclamation stung so sharply, Elijah suddenly felt human again.
He doesn't leave Mystic Falls. He knows he should; there's nothing left for him there, no allies to make, no bargains to be struck. Bonnie wants to kill him, Damon frequently promises to do so, and the others do not trust him anymore than Elena does. Elijah has always considered himself to be an honorable man, and he hates it, how quickly he traded his honor for the false promises offered by his little brother. Klaus had sensed the desperation in him, the overwhelming sense of loneliness, and he had exploited that. Elijah should have known better, and he curses himself for falling for it every minute of every day.
One night, as he walks the streets of Mystic Falls, the half-moon's light filtering in through the trees, he notices the light on in Elena's bedroom. Elijah knows it is nearly 3am, that it is a "school night," and he finds himself unbearably intrigued. He is outside her window with almost no effort, and he finds Elena sitting crosslegged on her bed, a vervain dart in one hand, a stake in the other. Pure terror is written all over her beautiful features, and Elijah suddenly knows why she has appeared so dull lately.
Stefan has an invitation to her house, to the boardinghouse; Klaus has a particularly sick sense of humor. Elijah would not put it past his brother to make Stefan, in the depths of his blood lust, return to Mystic Falls and kill Elena; and, judging by Elena's defensive posture, neither does she.
Elijah leaves that night, the image of Elena's pained face remaining in his head.
* * *
For six days, he returns to her house in the middle of the night and, for six days, Elijah witnesses her nightly vigil, the reluctant warrior turned frightened child. He observes her every night and during the day witnesses the way she stumbles through life, and Elijah knows this cannot go on. She has weakened herself to the point of total collapse; even if Klaus or Stefan did return, she would be no match for them.
On the seventh day, he enters her room.
She immediately gets to her feet, squeezing the dart so tightly it threatens to shatter in her hand, and he immediately raises his palms.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he assures her.
"Then why are you here?" she demands, her grip on her weapons never faltering.
"Because I want to help."
"Help?"
Elijah sinks onto the windowseat, keeping a careful distance from her. "I will keep watch. You need to sleep."
"No," Elena immediately objects.
"I know you cannot trust me," Elijah interrupts gently, "but you can trust I will not let anything happen to you."
Elena meets his gaze for several long beats before slowly nodding, setting the dart and the stake on her bedside table. Elijah politely turns his head as she slips beneath her covers, settling against the pillows, and he waits for the sound of her regular breathing.
"Elijah?" she ventures, her words slurring with exhaustion.
"Yes, Elena?"
"Will you be here in the morning?"
"Do you want me to be?"
She is quiet for so long, Elijah believes she has fallen asleep. And then, after several minutes, Elena whispers, "I don't know what I want anymore."
Elijah leaves when she begins to stir, staying away until the following night. Elena is already in bed, and she visibly relaxes as he takes a seat at her window.
During the second week of his nightly vigils, she ventures, "You know...you don't have to stay on the window all the time."
Elijah quirks an eyebrow, waiting.
Twisting her blankets in her hands, Elena mumbles, "I mean, if you want, you could...That is, would you..."
"Would I what?"
"Would you hold me?" she asks in a tiny voice.
Elijah removes his coat, setting it on the cushion as he rises. He toes off his shoes, acutely aware of her eyes upon him, and, when he slips into bed beside her, Elijah realizes he is nervous. It has been a very long time since he has shared a bed with a human woman and even longer still since he shared a bed with someone for whom he had feelings.
She fits neatly against his body, her back against his chest. He wraps his arms around her, and he resists the urge to tremble when she entwines her fingers with his; it is such a uniquely human gesture, it only serves to underscore just how long Elijah has been removed from humanity.
"Do you just come here every night because you feel guilty for breaking your word?"
Elijah shakes his head, knowing she can feel the movements against her neck.
"Then why do you come?"
"For the same reason you let me come."
"I make you feel safe?"
Elijah chuckles mirthlessly. "Oh, Elena, you make me feel anything but safe."
She turns in his arms, and suddenly her face is only inches from his; with only the light of the moon illuminating her face, she has never looked less like Katerina, especially when a quizzical expression crosses her beautiful face.
"What do I make you feel?"
He doesn't intend to kiss her, but, once he has begun, Elijah finds he cannot quite make himself stop. If she had said no or pushed at his shoulders, Elijah knows he would find a way to deny himself this, but instead she sinks her fingers into his hair and opens her lips to allow his tongue to tangle with hers.
He always forgets how hot humans are, especially when their hearts are pounding the way Elena's is. Elijah slips his hands beneath the hem of her camisole, pressing his palms against the smooth skin of her torso, enjoying the shiver she gives as he carefully cups her breasts. He brushes his thumbs against her nipples and swallows the moan which leaves her lips.
Elijah undresses her with an almost clinical precision, carefully cataloguing her responses to different touches, varying pressures. He sees the flash of insecurity in her eyes, and instantly Elijah knows she is wondering if he is comparing her to those who have come before her, those who have worn her face and body, those who have laid waste to men for centuries.
He kisses a small, circular scar just beneath her collarbone and waits. It takes her a moment to understand the silent question and she immediately volunteers, "Chicken pox when I was three."
His fingers run the length of a shiny scar on her lower stomach.
"I had my appendix out when I was ten."
Elijah feels her entire body shudder as his tongue presses against a rough patch of skin on the outside of her upper thigh.
"Crashed my bike when I was eight."
He has no scars, no indications he had been human once; there is nothing to hint at who he once was, and Elijah envies her this, the physical proof of the life she has lived.
When he pushes inside of her, Elena cries out against his shoulder, and Elijah quivers at the feel of her teeth ghosting against his skin. She is warm, wet, and deliciously tight, and Elijah suddenly knows this one time will never be enough.
He switches their positions easily, pulling her firmly atop him, and Elijah watches hungrily as Elena rises and falls against him, her head tilted back in pleasure, soft gasps and whimpers escaping her lips. Elijah keeps one hand on her hip, following her movements, and Elena reaches for his free hand, twisting their fingers together, squeezing his hand as her inner walls pulse around him, bringing him over the edge.
As she collapses against his chest, Elijah strokes her back softly, her skin dewy with sweat; he tastes salt when he rolls her onto her back, his tongue tracing the line of her collarbone.
Elena falls asleep in his arms, her limbs entwined with his.
As always, Elijah watches her sleep.