Title: once and always
Pairing: Caroline/Damon; Caroline/Stefan (Because I'm evil like that.)
Rating: T (might change to M)
Warnings: Language and violence
Author's note: Just a little something that came to my mind. I had to turn it into a fic.
Set in the 1860s; HUMANVERSE.
I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from 'here' to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places
Set the Fire to the Third Bar, Snow Patrol
I
Mystic Falls, Virginia 1861
She had known the Salvatores' since infancy—had grown up alongside the two, as well as George Lockwood. Had relished the times she'd been allowed to visit their estate for play with Stefan, the younger of the two and of whom she shared in age. She had idolized his older brother, Damon Salvatore, the reclusive Casanova of Mystic Falls—as she'd heard her mother gossip.
In the time of her youth she had not been quite familiar with the term, but as she grew older, and wiser, she began to understand.
She'd caught him in the act. The blond had snuck out of bed in the middle of the night, merely the age of fifteen, wishing to visit the horses at their stables on the Salvatore property. She'd slid open the stable doors, sliding inside and moving to the first box stall.
"Hey girl." She whispered, raising a hand and running it along its dark mane. She dug a hand into the pocket of her smock, pulling out a small cube of sugar and offering it up to the filly. A soft smile graced her face as she drew her arm away.
The blond froze as an unfamiliar sound filled the space. It sounded like a scream—the eeriness of it chilling her to the core. She was moving toward the sound before she could think clearly on the idea. She was fifteen, almost a woman. She was not a child, afraid of things that went bump in the night.
The noise grew louder, becoming more prominent as she neared the farthest box stall. One that was unoccupied, as the horse that had previously resided had died of old age only a few months ago. She crept silently, wishing not to startle whatever it was making those dreadful noises.
She peered through the bars of the stall, bringing a hand to her lips to the stifle the gasp that threatened to escape her lips. There they were—Damon and some…some trollip she did not quite recognize from the angle she was in. Both unclothed, sweat trickling down their bodies, which were pressed firmly together.
It seemed her noise had been heard because not a moment later, the Salvatore was peering over his companion's shoulder; eyes widening as they found her startled expression.
"Caroline?" He'd called out, not quite sure he wanted to believe the young, impressionable girl had caught him in the act of coitis.
The blond turned on her heel, heart pounding in her chest, hair whipping behind her as she fled from the scene. That was the last she'd seen him. She'd avoided the man for days before finally deciding she needed to act like an adult about the predicament she'd found herself in and address the matter directly with him. It was not until she arrived at the estate, being greeted warmly by Stefan that she learnt he'd left for the war. Damon had joined the Confederacy, along with his best friend George Lockwood, the major's only son. She'd cried herself to sleep that night, and many more after…fear creeping into the depths of her heart for his safety. He had always been there, as had Stefan. But with the eldest Salvatore it had been different. To her, he had been like the knights in tales her mother had read to her as a child. A man of honor…the kind she dreamt of being courted by as a girl.
She had developed affection for the older boy. Using her visits with Stefan as an excuse to see him…he'd always treated her with kindness. And now, he was gone. Off to war—off to die for a cause that held no meaning to her. No idea when he'd be back or even if he would return. Time was now her new tormentor it seemed.
:}{}{}{}{:
Mystic Falls, Virginia 1863
It had been nearly two years; too long since his last letter from his brother and father…since he last heard of Caroline. His eyes closed as the last memory of the girl relayed throughout his mind. He'd been caught, with his trousers down, in the middle of a very intimate act with a woman he'd hardly known. The pleasures of the flesh—he peered out the window of the carriage as they entered into town, a familiar sea of faces turning to stare at him. Each face wearing a different expression. None of them hers. None of them Caroline…the young doe that had taken up the better part of his mind since he'd left for Fort Fisher with George. He hadn't seen her since that night.
He recalled the look of horror that had been on her face when he saw her…the dullness in her usually bright eyes before she took off into the night. He'd wanted to go after her, explain…but how could he really explicate something as…mature a matter as sex to a young girl. No, that job fell on the shoulders of her mother, he'd decided.
He hadn't realized the carriage had stopped until the door flew open, filling the tiny space with an abundance of light.
"Mr. Salvatore." One of the footmen announced, offering a hand to the man as he climbed out of the coach.
"There is my brave soldier." A familiar voice bellowed from the porch of the manor. Damon peered up at the man…his father, Giuseppe Salvatore.
Damon managed a smile, making his way up the steps of the porch to greet the man who'd sent him off to war. "Father."
Giuseppe nodded in turn, "I see you've managed to stay alive all this time."
It seemed there was still no love-loss between them.
"Good to have you home." The older man said, though from his tone the statement could be misconstrued as a grievance.
"Where is Stefan?" Damon finally inquired. He would have thought his brother would have been the first to greet him. Possibly even inform him of the young Miss Forbes' whereabouts…how she's been since he's been away. His father wore a pensive look on his face, trying to recall where his youngest son had run off to.
"Ah, yes. I believe he's walking the gardens."
::::::
He had not known what to expect when he returned. Whether he would be greeted with warm, kindness or…anything unlike of the kind. But of all the things he'd imagined, he was a bit unprepared for the sight that greeted him as he stepped out onto the back porch, overlooking the rose garden.
The melodious sound of giggling filled his ears, his eyes immediately finding the source. A young woman, hands raising the skirt of her canary yellow dress just enough so that she could run about the maze of rose bushes. Her long, tresses of golden hair bounced behind her with every step. Trailing after her…Stefan, laughing along as well. They were in a game of chase, he realized as trotted down the few steps onto the back lawn of their property. A familiar game of flirtation, he'd played once or twice with a few of the local women.
The young Salvatore caught up to the blond, securely wrapping his arms around her waist so that she could no run off again.
"I've won." He heard his brother announced gently as he approached the couple, still haven't being seen as of yet. "What's my prize?"
"What would you like it to be?" Damon called out, making his presence known, sly grin on his face. The two turned their heads toward him in surprise…her blue eyes…they were familiar, he noted.
"Damon," Stefan breathed out, eyes flickering to his blond companion for a moment before returning to his brother. "You've returned."
He took a few hesitant steps toward the man in question, extending his arms out and pulling him into an embrace as the blond remained silent where she stood.
"They finally accepted my request for leave." The older Salvatore informed him, large smile on his face…it had been too long since he'd seen his baby brother.
"Well, it is good to have you back." Stefan declared, pulling away from Damon and rejoining the blue-eyed beauty that seemingly had been occupying his time as of late. "We've missed you."
"We?" Damon question, not quite sure as of whom else his brother may be referring. Stefan knew better than to entertain the notion that their father cared for him in the least.
"We'll me and Caroline, of course." Stefan clarified, indicating the woman standing beside him with a curt nod.
Damon turned his gaze onto the blond, really looking at her for the first time. Those eyes…the pale, creamy white skin, not a blemish in sight…pink lips set in a line…brows scrunched up as she stared down at her feet. She was Caroline.
The young girl who'd caught him that night in the stables…the one who'd occupied his thoughts for the longest time, for reasons he was unsure of. Now she stood before him a woman.
The most delectable mounds of soft flesh peeked out from the hem of her yellow dress. She'd grown beautifully.
"Caroline?" He stammered in awe as she raised her head, a soft hue of pink at her cheeks. She had grown into a radiant beauty, as he knew she would.
"Hello, Damon."
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