Title: A Ballad of Ashes and Embers
Rating: M
Genre: Alternate Universe/Alternate History
Pairing(s): Bonnie/Klaus, Stefan/Emily, Elijah/Katherine, Katherine/Lucy, Elijah/Lucy, Lucy/Elijah/Katherine, Tyler/Elena, Rebekah/Kol, Rebekah/Damon, ect.
Summary: Long ago, in a time forgotten, a scorned sorceress queen barters her daughter to win back her throne. The resulting marriage between the first known hybrid and the last of the most powerful bloodline of enchantresses ever in existence becomes the key to restoring the ways of old and bringing back the balance that his creation destroyed.
Klonnie Appreciation Week Theme: Free For All (Day Seven)
Warnings: Violence, Torture, Character Death, Sexual Content, Incest, OCC-ness, etc.
An Alliance of the Fallen
"Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word."
― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
The Werewolf Land and Isles, Sprit's Haven
Her mother held the gown up for her inspection. "This is beauty," she whispered, "Touch it. Go on. Caress the fabric."
Bonnie reached a hesitant hand out and ran the tips of her fingers down the front of the dress. The cloth was smooth and soft. It reminded her of the feathers that she used to float around her room when she was learning the art of levitation. "Is it really mine?"
A nod and a smile. Her mother smiling was a rare thing. The corners of her mouth were almost perpetually turned downward. Even as her lips lifted upward Bonnie was able to see the frown lines in the corner of her mouth. "A gift from Master Martin," Abby said, "The plum color will bring out the green in your eyes. You shall have gold and jewels as well. Tonight you must look like a princess and not a destitute pauper."
Bonnie had never truly known what it was to be a princess, though she was one by both blood and name. "Have you ever thought that he is so generous to us for a reason?" Bonnie asked, cautiously, "That perhaps he has other motives outside of kindness."
They had been imposing on Jonas Martin and his kindness for half a year now. Living among him and his children. Eating his food, showered with gifts and affection. Given access to his servants and all of his magical stores. Grimoires older than Bonnie and Abby alike gifted to them as if they were mere pieces of paper and not books that held the secrets of not just his line but the dark and light arts alike. Bonnie was sixteen, and old enough to know the rarity of which such things were given without expecting anything in return.
"There are times when Jonas can pass as a smart man," Abby shrugged. She tossed her dark hair over her shoulders the soft waves similar to Bonnie's own. Bonnie's was longer however, and darker, and her stature was much shorter and slighter than her mother's. Abby paced before her, her brown eyes crazed. "There are not many of us left that are of the old ways," Abby continued, "The warlock knows that I will not forget his kindness once I come into my throne and he will have his place when the witch is returned to the top of the food chain."
Bonnie remained silent, her expression blank. Master Martin was a dealer in potions, spells, and held the secrets to cutting all sorts of magical corners. He knew how to work around the Spirits that no one seemed to believe in anymore, even as he lived on their grounds, protected from the vampire infested world outside. He had friends that were loyal to all houses, but he never revealed anyone's secrets, including theirs; and he never made his own loyalties known.
Bonnie had always been suspicious of him. He always looked to be plotting. But she knew better that to question her mother. Though, her mother cared for her, she cared about herself more. Cared about her throne more.
"When Jonas sends the omegas to bathe you be sure they do well," Abby commanded, "You smell of outside. We have a connection to nature not a duty to take on its odor. All that time you spend in the gardens digging around in the dirt, you will fit right in with the lupos. But you must remember my child, just because the Alpha lives among wolves does not mean he wishes to bed one."
Bonnie cringed, but nodded slightly. She had long grown used to keeping her thoughts and feelings hidden beneath the surface. They did not matter. Only the family name did. Only vengeance for their line. Only the spilled blood of their ancestors. Only her mother's reign.
"You are doing your mother a great service and I know that you will not fail me," Abby touched her hair in a gesture of mock affection, "When they write the history of my reign, my loyal little one, they will say that it began tonight."
When finally she was gone, Bonnie exhaled, feeling as if finally she was free to breathe. Bonnie walked over to the window and looked outside toward the gardens. She could see Master Martin's son and daughter resurrecting the flowers that were dying with whispered spells and smelling the ones in full bloom.
When they had first arrived, Bonnie had thought that Jonas had designs for her and his son Luka. She had soon learned different. Her mother had her own designs and she would soon be not just a wife, but mate. For wolves mated. And the Lupos lived as wolves. Acted as a pack. Moved with one mind. Operated on the pack imperative and soon she would be their Beta.
The union was a means to an end. A tool in her mother's plans to take back Mystic Landing. She never called it that. "Our land," she called it. Over and over again she said the words as if were she to say them enough, the Spirits would make it so. "Ours by blood right, taken from us in treachery, but ours and ours forever. They thought that all witches could be killed with fire but Bennetts do not die when burned. We rise from the ashes, reborn like the phoenix. There is power in the phoenix, Bonnie, magic in every part. Even in its tears."
While her mother remembered their reign, Bonnie could not. These stories were nothing but stories to her. She had been a child of two when they had fled Mystic Landing, to escape the advancing armies of the Usurper. They had been among the first vampires, created by a witch, a sickening betrayal to the Spirits, and unable to be killed.
At times Bonnie imagined what it have been like. The midnight flee toward the ship that would lead them across the sea whose waters were still to this day stained with the blood of the witches that had been slain. Their magic making the waters remember. Her father a mere mortal battling the Usurper and dying for the woman he loved. The wings of the last phoenixes clipped and broken as they were chained as they could not be killed. The magical birds erupting into flames, leaving only ashes behind. They were still out there somewhere, her mother claimed, alive and thriving. Waiting in the shadows for their mothers, their witches to come for them.
Her grandmother had never made it on the ship. She had carried Bonnie just to the shore, stroking her hair and soothing her infant cries, whispering words of love and goodbyes. She had shoved Bonnie into Abby's arms and forced them onto the ship. She had turned and fought the fleet that came for them singlehandedly to make sure that they had made it across the sea. She had died for them, for Bonnie, and Abby had never forgiven Bonnie for it.
They had run and kept running. Drifting from isle to isle. Finding sanctuary in wolf territory and finally in Spirit's Haven where the temples dedicated to the witches that had moved on now laid in neglected ruins and the statue of their mother goddess Qetsiyah barely remained standing. They had found a home with the Martins and Bonnie had never known any other.
Through the wandering Bonnie knew that her mother's aim was not as simple as she made it seem. Those that had sheltered them through the years were now less welcoming. Their reign had all but been forgotten and no one had heard the cry of the phoenix in some time. "The beggar queen," her mother was called and still she remained focused on nothing but the return of her crown.
Bonnie started at the sound of a knock on the door. She called for the intruders to enter and watched as three young girls scuttled inside. The omegas, the lowliest members of the pack and made to serve. Bonnie was beginning to get herself familiar with the pack hierarchy at her mother's insistence. The alpha stood at the top of the helm, the beta, the second at his side. Then the delta, acting as enforcer. Then came the sentinel, elders, hunters, scouts, and lastly the omegas and pups.
"You may not be a wolf but you must live like one so it is best to know their ways," her mother had told her, "When a wolf mates, it mates for life. Once gone into this union can never be broken. The sooner you accept your new role the better."
The omegas took their time preparing Bonnie to be presented to their alpha. Bathing her in perfume scented water, dressing her, adorning her hair with ornaments and silk ribbons. All the while they told her of his virtues. Praised Alpha Niklaus and praised her at her choice in husband. As if it were a choice.
He was loyal. He was strong. He was powerful. They said. He was tall, fierce and fearless in battle. They spoke of the size of his palace. Spoke of his talents as a swordsman and his eye for beauty.
Then it came to the point where she was left with one. A girl with dark hair and olive skin. Her face to Bonnie, seemed much too hard to be so lowly in the rank of the clan. "You should not be afraid," the girl said, "The alpha has respect for your kind. He owes them his life."
Bonnie met the girl's gaze, interested in what she might say. She did not know much about her future husband that was of substance. She had heard only superficial things and of what his army could give her mother. "What is your name and what do you know?"
The girl seemed startled that someone would ask her something as personal as her name and perhaps she was. "Hayley," she whispered, sounding as if she had not said the name in a long time, "My name is Hayley and I know the origins of the alpha. All that enter into the clan must learn them."
"Will you tell me?" Bonnie knew that she was taking a risk but she could not help her curiosity. She had no choice but to marry a stranger, but this way he would not remain one. She could piece him together bit by bit. Trick herself into thinking that she was not walking into the unknown, blind and without a lick of light in sight.
"There is a reason that your mother chose him," Hayley said, her voice low as if she suspected at any moment someone could hear, "He is the bastard son of the Usurper's wife. Born to the witch whose husband now sits on your mother's throne and a wolf, a servant. The Usurper did not discover his wife's faithlessness until after the death of his youngest son caused him to commission her to make their children what they are now, vampires. The same vampires that created more of their kind and used their alliances and armies to destroy your house."
"If my mother knows this," Bonnie interrupted, "Why would she wish to align with him?"
"Please, beta," Hayley soothed, softly, "Allow me to finish." Already they were treating her as his mate and the wedding had not yet occurred. "The first victim that the alpha took as a vampire revealed his true nature, the nature of the wolf, and it also revealed his mother's betrayal. The Usurper planned to have his wife use magic to tamper down the wolf inside but the alpha ran. Fled across the Bloody Sea before it held the name. Five years before your arrival here with your mother as a child. It was the spirits that guided him here and told him that he would find shelter among wolves. He joined the clan and became their brother and eventually their leader, all the while vowing revenge. But even as he claimed this island and the surrounding isles for the wolves he left Spirit's Haven untouched out of respect for the spirits that guided him."
Bonnie understood then. Her mother and the alpha wanted the same thing, the Usurper off the throne, though for vastly different reasons.
Bonnie listened intently as the girl continued to prepare her. She placed gold bracelets on Bonnie's wrists and she continued her tale. "He knows your language," she said, "The language in which the spirits whisper and the witches recite their spells. He respects the old ways because he knows that is what saved him. The wolves may be our gods but the spirits are our guides and as you are their daughter you will be welcomed among our people. That is the reason that he plans to take you to the temple so that your union may be blessed."
Bonnie's eyes widened in surprise. It was well known by those who possessed magic that if a union of souls, which was what witches saw marriage as, was not approved by the spirits then it would likely have a tragic end. Her mother's marriage had not been approved but she had loved her father and so she had married him anyway. This had been their end. "Because he is what he is," Bonnie said, carefully, "They may not wish to allow it."
"If they do not," Hayley told her, "Then the marriage will not occur. He respects the old ways too much to ignore the spirits when they give a warning."
There was a chance then, Bonnie thought, that she could be free. Free from the jewels and the gown and the bracelets that suddenly felt like shackles around her wrists. She doubted her mother knew of the alpha's plans. Of the temple. She would have been livid if she had. There was close to no chance of the spirits approving, but then again, there should not have been a chance of them guiding him at all and then there was the fact that he did have the blood of a witch. Even if she was a traitor she was a witch all the same.
"Now you look like a princess," Hayley said, regaining Bonnie's attention. Bonnie looked at herself in the looking glass before her and did not recognize the person staring back at her. This lifeless being that was decorated and ready to be put out on display.
She was led through the Martin home and out into the courtyard. After her mother inspected her and she was found wanting Bonnie once again hoped that the spirits would not allow the marriage. "We are lucky," her mother said, as they got into Master Martin's ornately carved palanquin, "That a wolf will eat whatever meat is placed before him."
"Perhaps you should keep your delightful musings to yourself, my queen," Jonas commented as he joined them, "As amusing as I find them to be I doubt the alpha will find them so. He has a temper I hear. I'm sure once you once again retain your crown you may speak more freely and your candor might even be appreciated."
Bonnie was relieved that he had momentarily silenced her mother but she kept her expression neutral as Master Martin clapped his hands for the bearers to take their places. Bonnie frowned as she saw Hayley and the other omegas among them.
"They are used to taking the brute of the work," Jonas told her, "It is their place, and even if it were not there is a reason why many do not see werewolves as humans, princess. Their physical strength is far superior to our own."
As the palanquin was lifted, remaining steady and they began to move without pause, Bonnie found that she believed him.
During the ride, Bonnie was silent as death as her mother and Master Martin spoke of her mother's plans. "Everything seems to be going too perfectly," Abby said, "Even what I have not planed seems to be going in my favor. I heard the omegas whispering. It would seem that the Alpha Niklaus has never shown interest in any wolves. That he has always said that he would take a witch as his bride."
"He claims the spirits said it would be so," Jonas grinned, "That he would marry one of their own and that was why he was led to the haven when he first arrived."
"The spirits do not speak to wolves," Abby stated, matter-of-factly, "Especially wolves that are half vampire."
"They might," Bonnie commented, without thought, "If that wolf also had the blood of a witch, even if she is a traitor against her kind."
Abby turned on her, eyes narrowed. "Who told you that?"
Bonnie swallowed, knowing all too well what it was like to be on the other end of her mother's anger. "As you said, my queen," Jonas cut in, "The omegas were whispering. I suppose she heard something amidst the not so quiet words."
"Perhaps," Abby nodded.
Bonnie smiled her thanks at him and he nodded. The conversation turned toward her mother's suspicions that they were being followed. It was known that the vampires stayed clear of the werewolf lands, as one bite from a wolf could cause them death, and so Bonnie was not sure that her mother was right about the Usurper having knives following them. Then again, though vampires feared the wolves, witches did not, and the Usurper used his wife to regulate the magic of the witches that still dwelled in the land that he now had power over. He could always send a witch for them Abby reasoned.
"It matters not," Jonas said, "Anyone who knows the ways of old knows that one cannot kill a phoenix."
Her mother nodded proudly but Bonnie sighed. Perhaps her grandmother was not lesson enough to teach Abby that that was not always the case.
The palanquin slowed and stopped. Abby frowned as the curtains were thrown back. It was too soon for them to stop. Bonnie watched as her mother glanced around them and she noted the moment that she realized where they were. The ruined temple of the spirits.
An omega moved forward to help Bonnie out. She took his hand and listened to her mother and Master Martin whispering behind them.
"What are we doing here?" Abby hissed lowly.
"He is obviously showing respect for the old ways," Jonas whispered back, "Seeking the blessing of the spirits for the union."
A pause. "The spirits will never give such a blessing," Abby spat, "Their daughter and the last of the Bennett line wed to an abomination. If he refuses when they reject them then we have no army. If we have no army then we have no means to fight."
"If the spirits wish to see a Bennett on the throne," Jonas said, his tone pacifying, "They will give their blessing."
"Then we have nothing to worry about," Abby said as she took the hand of the omega as it was offered to her a moment later. Jonas followed them, coming up to stand in between them, one hand on the small of Abby's back and one hand wrapped around his sword hilt.
They were led through the stone and rumble. Unconsciously they stopped and bowed to the statue of Qetsiyah that was barely standing in front of the temple. Members of Alpha Niklaus's clan spilled out of the run down temple. They parted to make way for them and Bonnie noted the varying expressions of awe as they stared in her direction, their eyes holding a feral animalistic quality.
Three men stood at the temple's altar, their backs toward them. Still Jonas was able to identify them just the same. "The one on the far right is the delta," he said, "Mason of the house Lockwood. He was driven out of his family and stripped of his birthright after he killed and fell victim to the werewolf curse. He was the first in ten generations to phase. Before him the werewolf gene that plagued their family was a well-kept secret. Now the new heir, his nephew, may never find a bride as werewolves are not accepted in many places outside of lupos terrae. The line will now likely end with him."
He gestured with his head toward the man on the other end. "The shorter man there with the dark curly hair is Sir Atticus Shane," Jonas said.
Bonnie eyed the man curiously. "A knight?" She leaned in to whisper.
He nodded. "Formerly," he revealed, "He attempted to kill the Usurper and now the man wants his head. The assassination attempt though foolish has an honorable motive. His wife had attempted to resurrect their deceased son using very dark magic. She was killed for it and he sought revenge and achieved nothing but having a price placed on his head."
Bonnie studied the knight. He had a weak look about him and was shorter than many of the other men and wolves there. He stood with his shoulders slumped but there was something quietly strong about him that kept him from seeming vulnerable.
"And in the middle, little princess," Jonas whispered, "Is the alpha himself."
Bonnie swallowed, her throat growing dry. She froze suddenly feeling the urge to run, but her mother reached around Jonas and gripped her arm, nails digging into her skin propelling her forward.
Bonnie looked at him as he turned toward her. His was tall and though his hair and his skin were light it did little to make him seem less intimidating. His cobalt eyes were cold and empty aside from a sort of savage undertone that made Bonnie flinch. She could see it as he stepped forward, toward them. The wolf laying just behind the surface. He moved with a sort of animal grace, his lips set in a hard line. Prowling, that was the mental name that Bonnie placed on it.
The tunic he wore exposed his arms and Bonnie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she saw the ink black lines that made up the design of tattoos that went down his arms like sleeves. "When the wolves win in combat they are marked with a symbol that showcases their victory," Jonas whispered, causing Bonnie to look around and note the marks on some of the other clan members, "The alpha has never lost a fight. He is the strongest supernatural being that has ever existed outside of the women of your line and you will be his queen."
She did not want to be his queen. She felt the tears sting her eyes as she silently prayed that the spirits would spare her.
Abby's nails dug harder into her arm. "Not a tear," she hissed lowly into Bonnie's ear, "Smile and stand up straight."
Bonnie did as she was told and moved forward. She bit her lip and blinked the tears away before they could fall.
She met the alpha half way and she looked at his hand as he held it out for her. She took it as her mother's finger prodded her in the back. She was surprised at the gentleness of the grip as his hard fingers wrapped around her small hand, but the rest of him remained unyielding as he led her to the altar that had seen sacrifices of many kinds for spirits in times long past.
Bonnie looked up at the night through the cracks of the ceiling. She could already hear the voices of those who had come before her echoing in her head.
As they stopped in front of the stone structure she watched as the alpha pulled a dagger from the sheath at his side. Letting go of her hand he took the sharp silver blade and dragged it across his palm until he drew blood. Blood, the purest of offerings. He did know their ways.
He held out his palm and blood dripped from the wound until it healed itself. Then he turned toward her, holding out his hand palm up.
Knowing what was needed, Bonnie glanced toward her mother, before placing her hand palm up atop his. She looked away, shutting her eyes tightly as he cut into her palm the same way in which he had his own. The cut stung and she could not help the small whimper that escaped her lips.
When he was done she held her own hand over the alter allowing the blood to flow and mingle with his. After a moment, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and Bonnie glanced up at him in confusion before she realized he was about to bind up her wound.
She shook her head slightly as he reached for her hand. He frowned but she raised it up for his inspection and he watched as she healed the wound with her own magic. An emotion came into his eyes then, something so close to awe that made it Bonnie's breath catch but it was gone just as quickly.
He turned to face the altar and Bonnie did the same. He grabbed her hand again, his grip still soft, almost hesitant, and together they intoned the incantation. "Beatus, qui in istis quaerere consilio tuo."
Silence fell as they waited for an answer. The crowd in the room stood frozen, still. Bonnie had an urge to take her hand away from his but knew what it would look like. No answer would be a better sign than a rejection and that was what she was afraid of.
Just as she thought there would be no guidance to be found the altar erupted in flames. Those closest to them stepped back emitting various sounds of alarm. However, the alpha stood his ground. Bonnie stayed still as well. Fire had never scared her and flames were never a bad omen for a Bennett witch, in fact it was the very opposite, and that was why she frowned.
The voices in her head whispered of greatness. Power. Balance. The flames died down and left a pile of ashes in their wake. Amid the ashes sat two rings, simple golden bands, one with a wolf engraved on the surface and the other with a phoenix. As everyone around them gasped, Bonnie's eyes widened in horror. The marriage had not only been blessed, it had been sanctioned.
As her future husband, for that was what he was, let go of her hand and kneeled down to retrieve the rings, Bonnie wondered how this could have happened. The spirits never did anything without reason. But when Niklaus slipped the ring onto Bonnie's finger and then put on his own, she could not think of one that would be of her benefit.
He laced his fingers through hers once more and as he turned to face the others in the temple she was forced to turn with him. He lifted their joined hands in the air and they were met with his clans' barbaric shouts of jubilation.
Bonnie looked up at her mother whose face was smug and whose mouth was turned up in a twisted sort of grin. She glanced at Jonas and at his nod, she stood up straight once more and smiled.