The strength and splendor of our purpose swings.

The lamps fade; and the stars. We are alone.

- Rupert Brooke

PART I

The doppelganger is alive, and ready to surrender.

Elena says those words, and she means them, but her heart is hammering in her chest and she can't breathe the entire time she waits. Rose yells at her for being reckless and thoughtless and for manipulating her, but Elena just blocks her out, reminding herself of why she's doing this. This isn't about what Rose thinks. This is about Jeremy and Jenna, who Klaus will slaughter if she runs just like he slaughtered Katherine's family. This is about Stefan and Damon, who will get themselves killed trying to protect her if they wait for Klaus to come to them. This is about Caroline and Bonnie and Tyler and Matt. She can't explain it to Rose—how every time she closes her eyes she pictures their bodies ripped apart all around her, just like Katherine had described it—but she knows why she's doing this, and her conviction won't waver.

It seems like years go by before three vampires burst into the house, eyes hungry on her, and Elena has to remind herself that if Klaus needs her, they won't hurt her.

"We're here for the doppelganger," one of them says.

Elena swallows, and steps forward. "Thank you for coming."

The vampire smiles, predatory, and takes a step closer. "You really do look exactly like her," he said, and Elena pictures Katherine, trapped in the tomb, dirty and starving.

"I know," she says. "Do you know where to find Klaus?"

His grin widens. "Don't you worry about that."

She can't go through with this plan unless she's certain it's going to work. "I asked you a question," she says, voice level, eyes fixed on his.

His grin fades. "No one does, exactly," he says, "but I know how to reach him."

It's probably as good as she's going to get. She turns back to Rose. "Tell everyone I'm sorry," she says, and then nods to the vampire, and then they're gone.

The house they bring her to is big, old, and dusty, a lot like the one Rose and Trevor kept her in, and Elena wonders if that's a common thing for vampires who don't have daylight rings. The vampires are almost mad in their giddiness. They don't manhandle her; either they know she doesn't need to be dealt with by force, or they don't want to risk leaving any marks on her (or maybe that's her reaching, trying to make some sort of guess as to what Klaus is like—it doesn't matter, now, she'll find out soon enough.) They bring her to a big sitting room, with massive bookshelves and a couple of old couches. She doesn't know how long she'll be here for, and she doesn't want to sleep, so she grabs Jane Eyre and tries to distract herself in vain. Hours trickle by; at one point, there's a strange little whispered fight in the corner, which ends with one of the vampires calling over to ask if she'd like a glass of water, and she accepts.

Somehow, she'd expected to be taken straight to Klaus, or for Klaus to show up immediately; but of course, what were the chances that the oldest vampire in the world would be a short drive away?

She's sure at least a day goes by, maybe more, and she's managed to get a little sleep, but she's still starving when the vampires perk up, like dogs hearing something in the distance, and it could technically be anything but she knows it's Klaus. She puts down her book and takes a deep breath, forcing herself to steady her heartbeat. For a second she thinks about standing up, but there was no reason to stand for some stranger trying to kill her. The vampires disappear.

She hears his voice before she sees him, hears, "This is impossible," in an amused British accent, and feels cold all over; then, "if this is some sort of trick, I will string you up and skin you alive—" and then sure and steady footsteps, and she looks up to the door just to see him come to a stop.

She isn't really sure what she was expecting—someone with an old world look and air, even more refined than Elijah—but not this twenty-something man in a leather jacket, and yet something about him is more terrifying than Elena could have expected. He's shocked, it's clear on his face, and yet unlike Elijah he does not rush over to her at full vampire speed; he takes slow steps, his gaze appraising, and she meets his eyes in perfect silence. By the time he's in front of her, there's amusement on his face.

"You're quite certain that this isn't Katerina playing one of her games?" he says, and it takes her a moment to realize that despite his gaze on her he's speaking to one of the other vampires.

"She's a human," says the one who had seemed to be in charge, before, but now looks like a terrified child.

Klaus leans in close to her, close enough that she can feel his breath on her lips. "And why would a human doppelganger surrender herself with no trouble at all?"

"Katherine told me what—" what you did, but she doesn't want to anger him—"what happened to her family."

"You know Katerina," he says, and it isn't a question. "My, my, aren't you full of surprises, little doppelganger." His face draws back just a tiny bit. "And what's your name?"

"Elena," she replies, and Klaus grins and stands up straight.

"Well, then, Elena," he says, and extends a hand. "Shall we?"

Every nerve in her body is screaming for her to run, but she places her hand in his and lets him pull her to his feet. His hand snakes around her waist and pulls her closer, and she feels his nose against the skin of her neck, inhaling, and then feels the edge of his fangs.

They puncture her flesh, and she gasps.

For a second she thinks she's going to die here and now, and her entire body goes rigid, but it only lasts a moment. He pulls away, grinning at her, and she can see that oldest vampire they'd warned her about, the terrible monster who could leave Katherine Pierce quaking in fear. He wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Sorry, love," he says. "I just had to make sure."

They both know that he didn't need to drink to make sure, but her entire plan at this moment revolves around her not making him angry, so she doesn't say anything.

"Well, we should be off, then, shouldn't we?" he asks, and she doesn't reply, just purses her lips and keeps her gaze steady. His arm encircles her waist again and they're traveling at vampire speed, and then—

"Klaus?"

He stops, and looks back at the vampires, boredom all over his face. "Yes?"

"It's just… we delivered her to you—"

"You did," he replies.

"Don't we—"

"You get to live another day," says Klaus, clearly relishing the words. "Most who meet me cannot say that. You should feel honored."

They disappear.

. . .

He lets go of her when they reach a black car. Elena doesn't know much of anything about cars, but she can tell this one is expensive, and she's so startled that she starts to say, "don't you—"

"Expecting limousine service, were you sweetheart?" He smiles over at her, not at all perturbed. "All in due time, love. For now, I want to talk to my doppelganger alone."

My doppelganger. She shivers.

He opens her door for her, a mockery of a gentleman, and she swallows but keeps her head up and gets in. A second later, he enters the driver's seat and turns on the ignition.

"I must admit, love, I'm surprised by you," he says, his voice light and cheerful. "How exactly do you exist?"

"Katherine had a baby out of wedlock," she says.

"Did she, now?" asks Klaus, his tone darkly amused.

"It's why she was exiled from Bulgaria," Elena continues. "Why you met her in England."

"Someone knows her history," says Klaus, as they pull off of the overgrown lawn and onto the road. "How do you know so much?"

"Rose and Trevor kidnapped me not long ago," she says. "To give me to Elijah, to get a pardon."

Klaus looks over at her, a smile no longer on his face. "You've met my brother?" he asked.

Elena gapes. "Elijah's your brother?"

Klaus grins. "Not too well-informed, I see," he says. "Now, beg pardon, sweetheart, but if you were in my brother's possession, I fail to see how you aren't still."

"I know some vampires," she says, trying to give as little information as possible. "They came to rescue me."

"Not Katerina, surely," says Klaus. "She wouldn't put herself in Elijah's vicinity." He paused, and his silence was terrifying. "What vampires do you know?"

Elena doesn't answer.

"Come on, now, love, don't be like that. You haven't betrayed me, which means I won't need to slaughter everyone you love in vengeance." He laughs as though he doesn't know that's exactly what she's terrified of. "Besides, I will have to learn about your hometown to perform the sacrifice, so there's no reason for you to stay so quiet unless you want to anger me."

"I'm from Mystic Falls," she says. "We're overrun with vampires."

"I asked for names, love," he says. "And I will compel them out of you if you don't tell me. I'm offering you a chance to not be on my bad side."

"Salvatore," she says, and then shuts her eyes, feeling like the worst person in the world.

"Stefan Salvatore?" he says, and now there's real delight in his voice, hungry and dark and too amused for her comfort. "My goodness, you really are a well-connected little thing. How do you know Stefan?"

She didn't reply.

"Don't make me ask you again." The threat in his voice is not even subtle.

"He's my boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend?" He laughs, and then the car speeds up so quickly that Elena is almost scared, only to realize looking out the window that they'd just driven onto a highway.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Right now?" he asks vaguely. "Out of this wretched state and into a city I can actually stand. In the long run?" He grins over at her. "Well. You wouldn't happen know where I could find a moonstone, would you?"

"Katherine has it," she says, and Klaus shoots her a look of surprise.

"And where would I find Katerina, since you know so much?"

Elena swallows. "She's in Mystic Falls," she says. "She's trapped in a tomb with it."

"So she's safely tucked away with it for now," he muses, and then his look turns predatory, and Elena is reminded again that this is the man who's going to kill her. "Quite the bearer of good tidings, aren't we? As far as my doppelgangers go, you're a breath of fresh air, willing and forthcoming as you are. Leagues ahead of Katerina."

"I'm just not stupid," she said.

His eyes darken a little, and for a second she thinks he's going to lunge for her throat again and she feels her heart speed up. He retracts his fangs and laughs. "I'd be inclined to agree, sweetheart."

. . .

He brings her to DC, and Elena is so glad she's been here before on a school trip so that there's no novelty factor.

"You know where the moonstone is," she finds herself saying, because she has no idea what he's doing and it's terrifying. "Why don't you just take it and then do the sacrifice?"

"Do you know what's involved in the sacrifice, Elena?" he asks her, sounding a little detached.

"You need the moonstone, the doppelganger… a werewolf, and a vampire," she says.

"Correct," he replies. "I also need a full moon, though, and unfortunately the moon was already risen by the time I arrived at that disgusting house, so we won't be able to complete the ritual for another month."

Horror washes over her at the thought that she has a month in captivity to look forward to, and he grins, clearly aware of what's going through her mind.

She leans back in her seat and closes her eyes. She's been with Klaus for an hour and a half, and she's exhausted, starving, and still hurting where his fangs sank into her skin.

She's terrified when they arrive at a hotel and Klaus compels them the penthouse suite, absolutely terrified; it's hands down the most scared she has ever been in her life, but she forces herself to take steady breaths and resolves that she with not resist anything, because there's nothing she can't endure for Jeremy's sake, for Jenna's sake, for Stefan's sake. She cannot help but tremble in the elevator, but she keeps her head up and her jaw set. Klaus takes her arm and leads her into the room, and she keeps reminding herself that she can take anything.

"Are you wearing any vervain?" he asks. She can't speak, but she shakes her head, and he seizes her chin so she stares in his eyes.

"Do not leave this suite until I tell you otherwise," he says, and unlike Damon and Stefan who are so forceful when they use their compulsion, Klaus's tone is conversational, full of humor, just as it's been for half of what he's said tonight. She narrows her eyes, confused. "I have some business to attend to in this city, but do not attempt to contact anyone other than me while I am out. Be a good little doppelganger and sit tight until I return."

She is beyond relieved, and beyond terrified that this is an elaborate ruse, that he'll start laughing any second, but he does not. He tells her a phone number that she immediately forgets, and he laughs and assures her that if for some reason she needs it, she'll remember it.

She is starving, but she is too afraid to grab anything from the mini fridge, let alone order room service. She wants to shower, but she doesn't have any other clothes (and she is absolutely not willing to be in any state of undress with him near), so instead she just washes her face and neck, hangs her leather jacket up in the closet, and clambers into the massive bed.

She's so tired that she should fall asleep the second her head hits the pillow, but all she can see when she closes her eyes is Klaus biting into her neck and drinking her blood, and all she can think is that, in just one month, he'll do it again and he won't stop until she's dead.

You saved Jeremy today, she tells herself, and she holds that thought in her mind until she finally drifts off.

. . .

She wakes up to the muffled sound of TV—some news channel or other, she thinks—and is alert immediately. She climbs out of bed and walks to the doorway, looks in on the living room area (the suite really is enormous). Klaus is sitting on a couch, crystal glass of blood in hand, and he grins up at her.

"Look at that, sweetheart," he says, and she recognizes Andie Starr as the anchor, recognizes the channel as WPKW9. "They've got search parties out looking for you."

She doesn't reply. Klaus tilts his head, still grinning, and then suddenly his eyes narrow a bit.

"You don't look well," he says. "Tell me I haven't found myself a chronically ill doppelganger."

She shakes her head. "No, I'm fine."

He examines her for a moment. He looks perplexed, really; Elena wonders when the last time he'd had to think about the health of a human had been. After a few minutes, he lifts his chin.

"How long were you with those riffraff nightwalkers, sweetheart?"

Elena frowns. "I don't—I didn't keep track of time, I don't know."

"What date did they take you?" he asks.

"March 28th," she replies. "It—what day is it?"

"March 31st," he says. "Did they feed you at all?"

She shakes her head.

"Did they refuse to feed you, or did you refuse to ask them for food?" says Klaus, and then laughs. "Don't answer that, it's clear you were taking your martyr act a little too far." He downs the glass of blood and stands up. Unlike her, he's changed his clothes—he's in a dark red button-down shirt. "Well, come on, then. I can't kill you on the next full moon if you starve to death before then."

"Where are we going?" she asks.

He shoots her a bemused smirk. "It looks like I have to keep you alive and well for another month, sweetheart, and human that you are I do believe you need to be fed."

He says it like he's talking about feeding a pet, and she has a horrifying mental image of him giving her food in a dog bowl, but instead he strides to the closet, throws her jacket over to her and puts on a blazer of his own. He walks over to her, his gait casual, and meets her eyes.

"You can leave the room with me," he tells her, voice pleasant. "You will not run, or call for help, or draw anyone's attention in any way, shape, or form. You will do what I tell you for the duration of our little excursion."

"I came willingly," she tells him, even though the compulsion's already set in. "I'm not going to try and run."

"Yes, well, I'm not taking any chances in case you change your mind. Humans are terribly fickle things, you know." He extends his arm to her, again a mockery of politeness, and she takes it because she knows the empty pride of symbolic gestures means nothing sized up against her family's lives.

He doesn't seem the type to offer her any information he doesn't think she needs, but he's not trying to keep her from observing her surroundings, either. She was too terrified last night to take note of anything, but she looks around now. They're in a Four Seasons hotel. There's a Bourbon Grill in the building that she expects him to take her to, just because it's right there, but instead he leads her outside. She doesn't recognize the area (then again, though, all she really knows of DC are the tourist spots she went to in the eighth grade, so unless she was next to a monument or the White House she probably wouldn't recognize anything), but she's rested and it's daylight and it takes a couple of seconds of reading storefronts to surmise they're in Georgetown.

He takes her down to the waterfront, compels them past a long line of guests with reservations to a patio seat at a restaurant. They're given lunch menus, and Elena finally thinks to wonder what the time is.

She doesn't understand any of this. She knew he wouldn't starve her, since he needs her alive and of reasonably sound body in a month's time, but if anything she would have expected the bare minimum in terms of food. She doesn't voice this, of course—she doesn't think it would change his actions but she doesn't want to give him any ideas—but then, she takes in the way he's looking at her and thinks about farm animals being fattened up before the slaughter.

(she's sure her weight makes no difference to the sacrifice, but the parallel still sends dread coursing down her spine.)

She doesn't have the wherewithal to really look at the menu, so when the waitress arrives she just orders the first thing she can read off.

"Two Bloody Marys," Klaus orders, his voice cheery, when she turns his attention to her. "And I'll take mine with your blood, thank you." Both sentences are said in just the same tone, nothing to give away the compulsion, and the waitress nods and walks away.

There are a lot of things Elena would like to say, but she's too scared to say any of them, except: "I'm seventeen."

"Are you really?" asks Klaus, and he seems so enraptured, so delighted with any information he gets from her. "Such a young little thing, to have such bravery."

She has to ask. "I get why you're feeding me," she says, "but…"

He sighs, and it's almost melodramatic. "You're so afraid, love," he says, and there it is, laid out in the open, of course she'd known he knew she was scared all along but there's something different about him pointing it out to her face. "You can hardly even ask me a question. Soon it will make you dull, sweetheart, and I don't like to be bored."

Again, the threat is hardly even veiled. The drinks arrive a minute later and Klaus taps his to hers, though she doesn't reciprocate.

"Come on, little doppelganger," he says. "Where's that Petrova fire? Don't you disappoint me."

There's no pretense of amusement in that one. His voice is dark, bordering on angry.

Elena meets his eyes and knocks back her drink without flinching.

Klaus grins. "That's more like it."