Fic: The Ghosts That We Knew
Title: The Ghosts That We Knew
Author: lit_chick08
Pairings: Elijah/Tatia, Elijah/Katerina, Elijah/Elena
Rating: PG at most
Spoilers: Through 3x14 “Dangerous Liaisons” and the preview for 3x15 “All My Children”
Word Count: 2120
Disclaimer: These characters belong to LJ Smith, Kevin Williamson, and Julie Plec
Summary: How many times can he watch a woman he loves destroyed?
A/N: Title and cut text come from "Ghosts That We Knew" by Mumford and Sons
Tatia Petrova arrived in their village on a cool autumn day, riding as well as a man upon a mare, a baby swaddled against her chest. Elijah was returning from fishing with Finn and Niklaus, his attention focused more on what his brother was saying than the cloaked woman with a hood hiding her face, but then one of the woman's companions said something to Finn and the traveling party stopped.
Her hood slipped back, revealing thick chestnut curls, large doe eyes, and the most perfect face Elijah ever saw. His breath caught in his throat when she smiled, and he barely heard Dmitri introduce her as his cousin Tatia from the old country.
“Her husband died,” Dmitri explained, still speaking as if Tatia was not right there, “and we are taking her in.”
As Finn paid lip service to what a kind gesture it was, Elijah moved forward, kissing her hand and welcoming her to their village. Tatia's smile became a grin, open and brighter than any of the girls he knew, and she asked in a thickly accented voice, “And what is your name?”
“Elijah, m'lady.” At her expectant look, he quickly hurried to introduce Finn and Niklaus, blushing at his lack of propriety.
“She is beautiful,” Niklaus sighed once they passed, sounding younger than he was, and Finn offered an uncustomary laugh at how instantly besotted their brother was.
“Mikael will never let you marry a widow of no wealth,” Finn stated matter-of-factly, “so I would not fantasize too much.”
But Elijah did not think of his father's displeasure when he volunteered to accompany his mother and sister to welcome Tatia to the village, did not consider his father's anger when he drank her in with his eyes, did not hesitate to return her soft smiles. Later, when he began to steal from the house in the midnight hours to meet her in the forest, when chaste kisses became passionate and polite touches became fevered, Elijah would recall how breathtakingly wonderful Tatia Petrova was, how truly lucky he felt to have her.
But then Niklaus had to have her too, and Elijah could not even bring himself to hate Tatia, not when Niklaus was so unrepentant and cocksure, not when she wept for the position she put them all in.
“I swear I love you,” Tatia sobbed on the last night they spent together, her tears glimmering in the silver light of the moon. “I never wanted his. Niklaus...He just needs so much, and I do not know how we came to be here.”
“He is my brother, Tatia. We cannot - “
“Please do not make me choose,” she wailed against his chest, and Elijah could not bear to see her in pain, so he assured her he would not and soothed her with sweet kisses.
Elijah did not make her choose, and, when he woke up with the lingering taste of Tatia and iron on his tongue, he did not curse his fallen love or his parents for what was done.
He cursed Niklaus, who knew how desperately he loved Tatia and pursued her anyway, who flaunted his desire before Mikael and Esther while puffed up with false pride. Elijah believed it was Niklaus who got her killed, and he vowed to never forgive him for it.
Elijah loved his brother, but there was no doubt in his mind Niklaus was responsible for the death of Tatia Petrova.
Katerina Petrova wore Tatia's face, possessed Tatia's laugh, and pulsed with life and vitality as Tatia had, but Katerina was not Tatia.
Tatia Petrova loved Elijah and pitied Niklaus while Katerina loved Niklaus and pitied Elijah.
It drove him insane, watching Katerina smile and lean into Niklaus's touch; every time their lips met, Elijah felt rage churn in the pit of his stomach, and he wondered if this was how Niklaus felt when he was the tolerated brother.
Except Elijah was certain Katerina felt more for him than simple tolerance. Though Niklaus did not allow himself to feel anything for their lost love's doppelganger, Elijah was overwhelmed by the fierceness of Katerina's spirit. She confessed to him one afternoon how she was sent away from her home after bringing shame upon the family, and Elijah thought of Mikael, wherever he was, and wondered who could send away someone as sweet as Katerina. While Niklaus gathered the necessary details for the sacrifice, Elijah found himself spending his days with Katerina, laughing at her jests, listening to her stories, offering some of his own in return.
“Don't get too attached, brother,” Rebekah warned on one of her visits, having kept her distance since Trefor brought Katerina to them. “Once she's fattened, she'll be slaughtered with the rest of the chattle.”
Katerina was not chattle, and, not for the first time, Elijah longed for Finn, the only one of his siblings who still held to any moral code.
He kissed her once, unable to help himself as candlelight illuminated her beauty. Her mouth trembled beneath his, her tongue licking out before she jerked back, composing herself as she ran a hand over her now mussed curls.
“I am sorry, Elijah,” she offered, and he believed her, the sincerity in her voice blatant, “but...”
“But you love Klaus,” he finished, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.
Katerina clasped his hand, squeezing it lightly. “Please do not hate me. I could not bear it.”
He smiled wanly. “I could never,” he swore.
Unlike Tatia, Katerina chose, and she chose wrong, but Elijah did not say a word. He didn't warn her of what Niklaus was going to do, did not take the steps to keep her safe; when Niklaus ordered him to bring her back, he went, a sense of betrayal twisting up with pride around his heart.
Over the next 500 years, he would hear talk of Katerina's exploits. She called herself Katherine now, and once he even found her in Paris, sipping wine with another woman outside a little cafe. Her beauty had not waned, of course, and she charmed everyone around her without needing compulsion, but even from a distance, Elijah could see there was no light left in her eyes, no softness or kindness.
This was what he and Niklaus had wrought, breaking a girl until she was forced to reassemble herself into this twisted parody of the woman she once was.
Niklaus sacrificed Katerina Petrova on the altar of his madness, and Katherine Pierce rose from her ashes, the monster they created.
Elijah blamed himself for Katerina, for the girl he did not save.
Elena Gilbert was not Tatia Petrova or Katerina Petrova; Elijah went into the situation knowing that wholeheartedly. He would not allow himself to fall into the trap he had with Katerina, so desperate for a reminder of Tatia that he became blind to the truth. His relationship with Elena was strictly business, a means to an end to find and murder Niklaus, to avenge Finn, Kol, and Rebekah.
He didn't know when it changed. Elijah liked Elena, thought she was smart and clearly placed the safety of her family above her own, which he respected; though he had no intention of letting Niklaus actually sacrifice Elena, Elijah believed he would be regretful if Elena died in the crossfire. Even when she put the dagger in his heart, Elijah did not begrudge her for the action; he underestimated her, and it was something he would not do again.
After Katerina, Elijah did not put much weight in the words of Petrovas, so when she swore she would return to the Lockwood mansion, Elijah expected her to stay away. Her return stirred something in Elijah, brought back a belief in people he thought died long ago.
Elena Gilbert wore their faces, spoke with their voices, even managed to find herself embroiled in a love triangle between two brothers, but Elena was different.
When Damon pulled the dagger from his chest, Elijah woke up to a new world: Niklaus was finally a hybrid, his siblings were in reach, Damon had become the reliable Salvatore and Stefan, the loose cannon. Elijah was more adaptable than most and easily went along with the changes, but when he finally came face-to-face with Elena, he found himself troubled.
She was harder now, the youthful idealism which once fascinated him gone; Tatia's weariness and Katerina's sourness was beginning to creep into her features, and Elijah despised it. He wanted to reach out, smooth the lines from her brow and take away her worries, but the last thing Elena Gilbert needed was another savior, and Rebekah's words echoed in his head.
“You're pathetic,” his only sister spat, and Elijah was forced to consider if it was true, if his interest in the well-being of Elena Gilbert came from a place of care for her or in recapturing Tatia.
The gown she wore to his mother's party was exquisite, and he could not resist gently brushing his fingers against the bare skin of her arm as he spoke to her. Elena did not pull away or lean into his touch; she met his gaze and kept his confidences, and he would have asked her to dance if he thought it was appropriate. He did not think she would deny him. Perhaps it was his own flawed thinking, but he thought Elena considered him a friend, an ally.
Her confession of complicity in his mother's betrayal wounded him deeply, and he wanted to hate her. Except he couldn't because she was trying to keep her family, ragtag as it was, safe, something Elijah was trying to do as well. It bothered him to threaten her life, to keep her in the tomb guarded by Rebekah, but it was necessary.
Elena did what she needed to do, and Elijah was now doing the same.
Later, when his life and the lives of his siblings were safe, Elijah went to her home, waiting quietly in her room while she and the Salvatores bickered downstairs. When she finally entered the room, Elena studied him for a moment with uncertainty painted across her face.
Finally she sighed, “It wasn't personal. I don't want you dead.”
“I know.” Elijah rose from the bed, walked towards her with measured slowness. “It was not personal for me either.”
Something broke in Elena's face, and, for a second, Elijah saw a flash of the terrified young woman he first glimpsed in that rundown mansion so many months ago. “I just want to feel safe again.”
“You will,” Elijah stated, reaching out to tuck a lock of dark hair behind her ear, unable to keep from touching her, not wanting the last memory she had of his touch to be something rough and desperate. She did not pull away, and it was a small comfort after the insanity of the day.
“Stop,” she finally murmured, shaking her head. “Don't look at me like that.”
“I'm sorry,” he immediately offered. “How was I looking at you?”
“Like you're looking at someone else.”
He winced at the assessment before murmuring again, “I'm sorry. I suppose I was, but...”
“But what?”
Elena blinked in surprise when he cupped her face between his palms, holding her gaze steadily. “If you keep behaving as you are, you'll end up like Katerina. There is no use in destroying Klaus if you plan to destroy yourself in the process.”
She looked at him plaintively before sighing, “He'll destroy me anyway. As long as I live, he's going to punish me for looking like them.”
“You're nothing like them,” Elijah declared fiercely, and he was surprised at just how strongly he meant what he was saying. As Elena stood before him, seeming to have aged ten years in the past twenty-four hours, he was finally able to pinpoint what made her different from Tatia or Katerina.
“You are going to live a long life,” he predicted, carefully pulling away from her, trying to regain his composure. “You'll marry a good man, have children, forget about all of this. And Klaus will never bother you ever again.”
“Are you compelling me?” she asked, the hint of a smile playing at her lips.
“No, I'm promising you.”
Elijah was not sure how much promises from him or her were worth after all which had happened, but the contentment which blossomed on Elena's beautiful face told Elijah she still trusted him enough. She shocked him by leaning forward, brushing her lips against his cheek, and it took a thousand years worth of restraint to not grab her and kiss her properly.
“You're a good man, Elijah.”
Two other Petrova women paid him the same compliment.
This time, Elijah vowed he would deserve it.
Author: lit_chick08
Pairings: Elijah/Tatia, Elijah/Katerina, Elijah/Elena
Rating: PG at most
Spoilers: Through 3x14 “Dangerous Liaisons” and the preview for 3x15 “All My Children”
Word Count: 2120
Disclaimer: These characters belong to LJ Smith, Kevin Williamson, and Julie Plec
Summary: How many times can he watch a woman he loves destroyed?
A/N: Title and cut text come from "Ghosts That We Knew" by Mumford and Sons
Tatia Petrova arrived in their village on a cool autumn day, riding as well as a man upon a mare, a baby swaddled against her chest. Elijah was returning from fishing with Finn and Niklaus, his attention focused more on what his brother was saying than the cloaked woman with a hood hiding her face, but then one of the woman's companions said something to Finn and the traveling party stopped.
Her hood slipped back, revealing thick chestnut curls, large doe eyes, and the most perfect face Elijah ever saw. His breath caught in his throat when she smiled, and he barely heard Dmitri introduce her as his cousin Tatia from the old country.
“Her husband died,” Dmitri explained, still speaking as if Tatia was not right there, “and we are taking her in.”
As Finn paid lip service to what a kind gesture it was, Elijah moved forward, kissing her hand and welcoming her to their village. Tatia's smile became a grin, open and brighter than any of the girls he knew, and she asked in a thickly accented voice, “And what is your name?”
“Elijah, m'lady.” At her expectant look, he quickly hurried to introduce Finn and Niklaus, blushing at his lack of propriety.
“She is beautiful,” Niklaus sighed once they passed, sounding younger than he was, and Finn offered an uncustomary laugh at how instantly besotted their brother was.
“Mikael will never let you marry a widow of no wealth,” Finn stated matter-of-factly, “so I would not fantasize too much.”
But Elijah did not think of his father's displeasure when he volunteered to accompany his mother and sister to welcome Tatia to the village, did not consider his father's anger when he drank her in with his eyes, did not hesitate to return her soft smiles. Later, when he began to steal from the house in the midnight hours to meet her in the forest, when chaste kisses became passionate and polite touches became fevered, Elijah would recall how breathtakingly wonderful Tatia Petrova was, how truly lucky he felt to have her.
But then Niklaus had to have her too, and Elijah could not even bring himself to hate Tatia, not when Niklaus was so unrepentant and cocksure, not when she wept for the position she put them all in.
“I swear I love you,” Tatia sobbed on the last night they spent together, her tears glimmering in the silver light of the moon. “I never wanted his. Niklaus...He just needs so much, and I do not know how we came to be here.”
“He is my brother, Tatia. We cannot - “
“Please do not make me choose,” she wailed against his chest, and Elijah could not bear to see her in pain, so he assured her he would not and soothed her with sweet kisses.
Elijah did not make her choose, and, when he woke up with the lingering taste of Tatia and iron on his tongue, he did not curse his fallen love or his parents for what was done.
He cursed Niklaus, who knew how desperately he loved Tatia and pursued her anyway, who flaunted his desire before Mikael and Esther while puffed up with false pride. Elijah believed it was Niklaus who got her killed, and he vowed to never forgive him for it.
Elijah loved his brother, but there was no doubt in his mind Niklaus was responsible for the death of Tatia Petrova.
Katerina Petrova wore Tatia's face, possessed Tatia's laugh, and pulsed with life and vitality as Tatia had, but Katerina was not Tatia.
Tatia Petrova loved Elijah and pitied Niklaus while Katerina loved Niklaus and pitied Elijah.
It drove him insane, watching Katerina smile and lean into Niklaus's touch; every time their lips met, Elijah felt rage churn in the pit of his stomach, and he wondered if this was how Niklaus felt when he was the tolerated brother.
Except Elijah was certain Katerina felt more for him than simple tolerance. Though Niklaus did not allow himself to feel anything for their lost love's doppelganger, Elijah was overwhelmed by the fierceness of Katerina's spirit. She confessed to him one afternoon how she was sent away from her home after bringing shame upon the family, and Elijah thought of Mikael, wherever he was, and wondered who could send away someone as sweet as Katerina. While Niklaus gathered the necessary details for the sacrifice, Elijah found himself spending his days with Katerina, laughing at her jests, listening to her stories, offering some of his own in return.
“Don't get too attached, brother,” Rebekah warned on one of her visits, having kept her distance since Trefor brought Katerina to them. “Once she's fattened, she'll be slaughtered with the rest of the chattle.”
Katerina was not chattle, and, not for the first time, Elijah longed for Finn, the only one of his siblings who still held to any moral code.
He kissed her once, unable to help himself as candlelight illuminated her beauty. Her mouth trembled beneath his, her tongue licking out before she jerked back, composing herself as she ran a hand over her now mussed curls.
“I am sorry, Elijah,” she offered, and he believed her, the sincerity in her voice blatant, “but...”
“But you love Klaus,” he finished, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.
Katerina clasped his hand, squeezing it lightly. “Please do not hate me. I could not bear it.”
He smiled wanly. “I could never,” he swore.
Unlike Tatia, Katerina chose, and she chose wrong, but Elijah did not say a word. He didn't warn her of what Niklaus was going to do, did not take the steps to keep her safe; when Niklaus ordered him to bring her back, he went, a sense of betrayal twisting up with pride around his heart.
Over the next 500 years, he would hear talk of Katerina's exploits. She called herself Katherine now, and once he even found her in Paris, sipping wine with another woman outside a little cafe. Her beauty had not waned, of course, and she charmed everyone around her without needing compulsion, but even from a distance, Elijah could see there was no light left in her eyes, no softness or kindness.
This was what he and Niklaus had wrought, breaking a girl until she was forced to reassemble herself into this twisted parody of the woman she once was.
Niklaus sacrificed Katerina Petrova on the altar of his madness, and Katherine Pierce rose from her ashes, the monster they created.
Elijah blamed himself for Katerina, for the girl he did not save.
Elena Gilbert was not Tatia Petrova or Katerina Petrova; Elijah went into the situation knowing that wholeheartedly. He would not allow himself to fall into the trap he had with Katerina, so desperate for a reminder of Tatia that he became blind to the truth. His relationship with Elena was strictly business, a means to an end to find and murder Niklaus, to avenge Finn, Kol, and Rebekah.
He didn't know when it changed. Elijah liked Elena, thought she was smart and clearly placed the safety of her family above her own, which he respected; though he had no intention of letting Niklaus actually sacrifice Elena, Elijah believed he would be regretful if Elena died in the crossfire. Even when she put the dagger in his heart, Elijah did not begrudge her for the action; he underestimated her, and it was something he would not do again.
After Katerina, Elijah did not put much weight in the words of Petrovas, so when she swore she would return to the Lockwood mansion, Elijah expected her to stay away. Her return stirred something in Elijah, brought back a belief in people he thought died long ago.
Elena Gilbert wore their faces, spoke with their voices, even managed to find herself embroiled in a love triangle between two brothers, but Elena was different.
When Damon pulled the dagger from his chest, Elijah woke up to a new world: Niklaus was finally a hybrid, his siblings were in reach, Damon had become the reliable Salvatore and Stefan, the loose cannon. Elijah was more adaptable than most and easily went along with the changes, but when he finally came face-to-face with Elena, he found himself troubled.
She was harder now, the youthful idealism which once fascinated him gone; Tatia's weariness and Katerina's sourness was beginning to creep into her features, and Elijah despised it. He wanted to reach out, smooth the lines from her brow and take away her worries, but the last thing Elena Gilbert needed was another savior, and Rebekah's words echoed in his head.
“You're pathetic,” his only sister spat, and Elijah was forced to consider if it was true, if his interest in the well-being of Elena Gilbert came from a place of care for her or in recapturing Tatia.
The gown she wore to his mother's party was exquisite, and he could not resist gently brushing his fingers against the bare skin of her arm as he spoke to her. Elena did not pull away or lean into his touch; she met his gaze and kept his confidences, and he would have asked her to dance if he thought it was appropriate. He did not think she would deny him. Perhaps it was his own flawed thinking, but he thought Elena considered him a friend, an ally.
Her confession of complicity in his mother's betrayal wounded him deeply, and he wanted to hate her. Except he couldn't because she was trying to keep her family, ragtag as it was, safe, something Elijah was trying to do as well. It bothered him to threaten her life, to keep her in the tomb guarded by Rebekah, but it was necessary.
Elena did what she needed to do, and Elijah was now doing the same.
Later, when his life and the lives of his siblings were safe, Elijah went to her home, waiting quietly in her room while she and the Salvatores bickered downstairs. When she finally entered the room, Elena studied him for a moment with uncertainty painted across her face.
Finally she sighed, “It wasn't personal. I don't want you dead.”
“I know.” Elijah rose from the bed, walked towards her with measured slowness. “It was not personal for me either.”
Something broke in Elena's face, and, for a second, Elijah saw a flash of the terrified young woman he first glimpsed in that rundown mansion so many months ago. “I just want to feel safe again.”
“You will,” Elijah stated, reaching out to tuck a lock of dark hair behind her ear, unable to keep from touching her, not wanting the last memory she had of his touch to be something rough and desperate. She did not pull away, and it was a small comfort after the insanity of the day.
“Stop,” she finally murmured, shaking her head. “Don't look at me like that.”
“I'm sorry,” he immediately offered. “How was I looking at you?”
“Like you're looking at someone else.”
He winced at the assessment before murmuring again, “I'm sorry. I suppose I was, but...”
“But what?”
Elena blinked in surprise when he cupped her face between his palms, holding her gaze steadily. “If you keep behaving as you are, you'll end up like Katerina. There is no use in destroying Klaus if you plan to destroy yourself in the process.”
She looked at him plaintively before sighing, “He'll destroy me anyway. As long as I live, he's going to punish me for looking like them.”
“You're nothing like them,” Elijah declared fiercely, and he was surprised at just how strongly he meant what he was saying. As Elena stood before him, seeming to have aged ten years in the past twenty-four hours, he was finally able to pinpoint what made her different from Tatia or Katerina.
“You are going to live a long life,” he predicted, carefully pulling away from her, trying to regain his composure. “You'll marry a good man, have children, forget about all of this. And Klaus will never bother you ever again.”
“Are you compelling me?” she asked, the hint of a smile playing at her lips.
“No, I'm promising you.”
Elijah was not sure how much promises from him or her were worth after all which had happened, but the contentment which blossomed on Elena's beautiful face told Elijah she still trusted him enough. She shocked him by leaning forward, brushing her lips against his cheek, and it took a thousand years worth of restraint to not grab her and kiss her properly.
“You're a good man, Elijah.”
Two other Petrova women paid him the same compliment.
This time, Elijah vowed he would deserve it.