Title: Fear in a Handful of Dust (8/?)
Author:
lady_slayer Rating: T
Pairing: Damon/Elena,
Category: Hurt/comfort
Summary:Be careful what you wish for, or it might actually happen. Lives will get turned upside down, hearts get broken and everything is NOT the way it should be. Also... nothing good EVER came of a wish that starts with "I wish you could..."!
Warnings: A little blood, a bit more foul language, but nothing TOO bad.
Show/Bookverse: Show
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. And the title is from “The Waste Land” by T.S. Eliot
Spoiler: A few, I guess... but I don't really pick up on the actual show-plot, I just use a few newfound charactertraits (and new characters, like Elijah).
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Chapter 8
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Stefan felt slightly bad for doing what he was doing... Elena’s first girls’ night since Caroline had been kidnapped by the werewolves, and here he was, hiding in the tree outside of her window, eavesdropping. But after wracking his mind for a way to be… sneaky about getting her and Damon together, he found that he had no idea, whatsoever, how to go about it. The easiest way probably would be to just throw them in a cell in the basement and lock them in there. Leave them with water, food and blood, and tell them to just get over themselves, fuck like bunnies, and say ‘thank you Stefan’ afterwards. But knowing both Damon and Elena like he did… yeah, fat chance of that working out. Those two were chin-deep in denial, and they seemed to be highly pleased about it too. Just his luck they were both so fucking stubborn they could put a mule to total shame.
So, he was hiding in a tree outside of her window, feeling more and more like the stalker/creep he was slowly turning into these days and hoping for at least a little bit of information, insight, anything to help him on his mission.
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She felt like she was walking on eggshells. Sure, it was nice spending time with her best friends, but it felt just a little bit like a bad movie. She was the witch, her best friends both dead, well technically dead- they were vampires. Sure, Elena wouldn’t be for much longer, but Bonnie had a feeling that after Elena turned back, she wouldn’t actually stay human. Not for too long, at least. And the best thing about it? Bonnie wasn’t even sure for which Salvatore brother her best friend would chose an eternally dammed life for.
That being said, Bonnie threw all these thoughts into a dark corner of her mind, gave herself a mental slap over the head for wasting precious gossiping time on fruitless thoughts, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and tried to decide the best color for her toenails.
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Caroline was having one of the best nights of her undead life. It had been nice, when Stefan brought Bonnie and Elena over, to help her cope with what had happened. She wasn’t still feeling paranoid, like she would dissolve into sobs at any moment. Also...she wasn’t the only one mixing gin with blood, instead tonic water. (Un)Life was good right now. Their hair was pulled up into messy buns, they were wearing baggy, comfortable clothes; surrounded by junk food, beautifying products and piles of tear jerking, romantic movies, they were prepared to leave everything even remotely related to Klaus, curses or Doppelgangers out in the proverbial rain for the night.
“Hey, does it make sense to pretend everything is normal and still be glad I’m not the only undead person in the room at the same time?”
Both Bonnie and Elena looked at her strangely for a moment, before shaking their heads and grinning.
“As much as bitching about the weight we gained in the last few months, while stuffing our faces with ice-cream. So... yeah, it makes perfect sense.”
Thinking about Bonnie’s answer for a moment, she came to the conclusion that, yeah - everything was perfectly normal.
She should have known that this would bite her in the ass.
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Bonnie had decided on the deep green nail polish, and just as Elena was shaking the little bottle, her eyes fixated on it, thinking about how the color resembled that of leaves in the spring… the world around her disappeared in an explosion of color and sound.
She was dizzy as hell as she opened her eyes (when had she closed them in the first place?) a few moments later. But that was the least of her problems, really. Slightly more confusing was the fact she wasn’t in her room anymore. Or in Mystic Falls, because as she passed a window she could she hills; a mixture of green grass and rough looking bushes; and, what looked like, the ruins of ancient cities she had seen in history books. Only, these were not ruins. There were people in the streets; bargaining with vendors in a market, talking to friends or family. There were carts, pulled by oxen. And the people wore either pristine white Togas, or brown, sack-like things. It was easy to see who came from money and who lived a hard-working life.
She tried to look down at herself, but for some reason her body wouldn’t do what she told it to. At first, she thought it was another of Damon’s memories, then she remembered he was born after 1800 and what she had seen of this outside world seemed well before that time. It had looked like a scene directly out of Troy. She wondered if she would run into Brad Pitt any moment; but as she walked around a corner, she realized that she should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. For there, at the end of the hallway, was not Brad Pitt but Elijah.
Only, he didn’t look like the Elijah she knew. This one had hair down to his shoulders, slightly wavy , and wore what looked like a leather armour, and a skirt (or something closely resembling one anyway but seeing as she was trapped with the ancient Greeks, he probably was wearing what passed for the latest fashion.).
And then he saw her and smiled. A blinding, soul reaching, true smile just for her-or for the woman she was stuck in right now.
“There you are my love! I was searching everywhere for you! The delegate, whom I told you about, has arrived. And your presence, my Queen, is urgently needed!”
She could hear the teasing in his voice, and a love that sent shivers down her spine.
“Of course - whatever my King needs!”
It was her voice alright - only, it wasn’t what she had wanted to say, nor was the teasing quality to it anything she would ever direct at him. Also... Queen? King? Good god, had Elijah been married? She desperately wanted an answer to her question but he just gave her a smouldering look, before he clasped her hand.
“Well, my darling Alyona... if I had my way, we would turn around, and lock ourselves in our chambers for the next week. But alas, this man has the reputation of not being overly patient.”
He sighed - she could see that he meant what he said. Smiling softly (she could feel the movement of her lips) she squeezed his hand to reassure him. They went on in silence, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one... at least not for Elijah and the woman. Elena though, felt as if she was intruding in a far too intimate moment; she felt like a voyeur, even though they just walked along a hallway. It was just... she had never seen this man so... relaxed, happy and so utterly human. He was in love, and he was fully aware of the fact that he was loved right back. After a few more corners, and seemingly endless hallways, they arrived in front of a huge double door, flanked by two guards. The woman - Alyona - let go of Elijah’s hand to straighten the fabric of her clothes. As she looked down at herself to inspect everything, she saw that she was wearing a white toga. A golden cuff was around her upper right arm, and on her shoulders were golden clasps, holding the material together. There were no mirrors anywhere near, but she was willing to bet that, if she could look into one right now, she would recognise the reflection her own face in it.
But then the woman looked up again, and saw the worried expression on her husband’s - she forgot instantly about her clothes and appearance and took his hand again, sending trust, warmth and love his way.
“Don’t worry. It will all work out. Now come on - you are Menelaus. You are the King of Sparta. He is only a delegate of Troy... what is his name, anyway?”
“Ze’ev. It is quite the unusual name, but I have been told he comes from someplace far beyond the edges of our Kingdom...”
She could hear that he was still talking, but his words started to become unclear, and the next thing she knew, she was lying on the floor of her room, Bonnie, Caroline and Stefan standing over her with worried looks on their faces. She blinked a few times, before she sat up, only one thought in her mind.
“I knew it looked like in the movie!”
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A few minutes later, they were sitting in the kitchen, hot cocoa and tea on the table, and no laughter or gossiping happening. Caroline had just finished telling her that she had been speaking in a weird language that nobody understood - on top of suddenly collapsing, and her eyes had rolled all the way back into her head - as the backdoor opened and Elijah stepped inside. A frown was firmly fixed on his face, and for once, he looked like he had no idea what was going on.
Elena had called him as soon as she was sure she was firmly anchored in the present day again - demanded of him to come to her house ASAP. She wasn’t usually one to be so... demanding; well, at least not since he got Stefan out of the tomb, and they had sealed their deal. Usually she talked to him with at least a modicum of respect, and listened to what he had to say. But this time, she told him to come, and come as fast as his feet could carry him. So he did, because her strange behaviour worried him.
As he stood there, she mentally compared Elijah, and the man she (or, rather Alyona) had called Menelaus. She was pretty sure she knew already what she had seen, but she wanted - needed - him to say it. Somehow, she felt betrayed. She knew he didn’t owe her anything. They had a deal - she would try to keep herself safe, and be there when he needed her to lure Klaus. In exchange he made sure that her family and friends were as safe as possible. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that, over the past weeks, they had moved past being business partners of sort, and had become friends. And because of that, it hurt that he hadn’t told her.She gestured for him to take a free chair, and for once he did as told, without playing the superior card.
“Well... now that I am here... care to tell me why? Because I am pretty sure that you said something along the lines that men are not welcome to partake in these... girls’ nights.”
Great, he was pissed off, but so was she so fair was only fair.
“That’s true, but neither are ancestors or their husbands. If you want I can have Caroline draw you up a list of the rules,” she all but hissed, “You know... you could have told me that you were married to one of the Doppelgangers that came before me. At least then, I wouldn’t have been quite this... shocked about the little... trip into the past I just had.”
She had no intentions of beating around the bush, and she stuck to that - also, it was kind of funny to watch the expressions of the others. Bonnie and Stefan could have had more of a reaction to watching paint dry... they shared a kind of dumbfounded look, with big eyes. Caroline was more interesting - jaw nearly hitting the table... after she spit the mouthful of cocoa across it. The mix of spittle and cocoa was slowly dripping down Elijah’s face, who had the bad luck of sitting across from her. But he made no move to show that he cared - or even realize that it happened. He just stared at her, a pained, regretful look in his eyes.
After a few, eerily quiet moments, he blinked, took a handkerchief (somehow, no one seemed surprised that he carried a handkerchief around with him) out of the breast pocket of his vest, and wiped the sticky stuff off his face. He then carefully folded it, and put it back into the pocket, all the while avoiding eye contact with Elena in particular and everyone else in the room in general. Then he slowly, deliberately, caught her gaze with his own. Clearly, even though they were far from alone, his next words were for her.
“I wasn’t married to a Doppelganger, Elena. I was married to the Original Petrova. I was married to the woman that caused all this - and I don’t mean the Doppelgangers, or the Sun and the Moon curse. I was married to the woman that caused Klaus to die, and turn him into the first vampire. Or... well, not the first vampire. But the ones before him were more animal - more demon - than anything else. I was married to the woman that, nowadays, is known as Helen of Troy. And you, my dear Elena, are the first one that doesn’t just look like her but, essentially is her. The same fire, the same, big heart. You move like her, you talk like her... I know you’re not really her. Her soul can never find its way back into the mortal plain without outside help. But... out of all the Doppelgangers I’ve met over the centuries, you are the first one that I don’t want to rip to pieces. All the others felt wrong - like they had stolen her face and her body, misusing it in the worst way possible. But you wear it with grace, and you’re doing it justice. Maybe I should have told you about her before but... it was really not important. Not for you at least. I admit though, the reason you are still here with your family, instead of securely locked up somewhere only I know, is because you remind me of her in more ways than just your looks. But really... at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. Not for you, at least. My reasons for acting like I do are mine... but I apologize for the somewhat unwanted surprise you had because of it... I hadn’t counted on some spell backfiring, giving you the ability to regress back through time... which we should really look into, by the way. I’m not sure it would be good for you if something like that should happen again.”
Silence, again. For all the time she spent around Elijah, he wasn’t usually one for long speeches. Even less, when those speeches included feelings, or needed him to explain himself.
Also... he might have said that it was not important... but he had just told them that the Original Petrova was somewhat at fault for the existence of vampires - meaning, that there was more to the whole Klaus thing than just the Sun and the Moon curse. And just like that, a feeling of dread and foreboding settled into the pit of her stomach, and she knew that it wasn’t just an overreaction.
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So... this is it. I think it’s pretty clear where I’m going with the plot, now, isn’t it? I hope it’s not too disappointing, or too much of a long shot. We’ll see how it’ll work out in the end, I guess! Now, please tell me what you think of this chapter; just click on the little button below, and leave me a few words. Reviews are love, people!
So long,
Lady