When the World Flew Away from Her Reach

It was late in November, right after thanksgiving, when Harold Waldorf suggested that his family spend the holidays in a quaint town in Virginia. There was talk about a business proposal, a valuable ally, and something else he and Eleanor talked about behind closed doors without their daughter. Blair listened though, pressing her ear against the cold door. Something about a plant. Or was it a flower? They were talking in hushed voices. What was in this town that has got Harold and Eleanor hiding information from their daughter?

She sighed, giving up after just ten minutes of trying to listen. She hurried back into her room and pondered on another thing her father has told her over dinner about their visit to Mystic Falls. There were boys. Brothers, actually. Harold obviously insisted on the younger Salvatore as he was smart, responsible, and 'will make a good husband'. Whenever she inquired about the other brother, he shrugged, almost cringed, and then changed the topic back to Stefan.

A panic took over her. Were her father's words of proposal and allies his way of hinting a marriage with the younger Salvatore? Surely he would not do what his friends have done to their children, would he? She was his only daughter, and for him to give her away to someone she's never even met would be such a scandal… for her. Not to mention he's told her all her life that he would be supportive of whatever it was she wanted to do. She chose her friends, her clothes, her ways, her future. He never meddled. He was quite proud.

As their coach rounded about the Salvatore Estate, Blair braced herself for what was to come. She had a terrible feeling about this town. Just its name was irking—Mystic Falls. She should have never agreed to coming along since her best friend Serena has asked her to spend the holidays with her and her family. She should have taken the opportunity to miss a signing of a pact. She should have never followed her curiosity.

There were two men waiting for them by the entrance: a young lad, probably Stefan, and an older gentleman, Giuseppe Salvatore, his father. There was no sign of any other men in the house. Has Harold been shrugging when it came to discussing Stefan's brother because he was deceased? She speculated. She has been speculating ever since they left New York.

"A, Harold! Old friend, how have you been? And Eleanor, lovely as always." Giuseppe shook Harold's hand. He had a smile Blair has presumed practiced, like the smiles of her parent's friends back home.

"And this must be your Blair," he then turned to Blair and took her hands in his. She nodded and smiled politely. Giuseppe led her a few steps up and patted his son's back.

"Introduce yourself, son."

"I am Stefan Salvatore," he took her hand and kissed the top of it, "it is good to finally meet you Miss Waldorf."

"Same," she smiled, discreetly pulling her hand away from him.

"You would have to excuse Stefan's brother for not being with us at the moment. He is always missing during these occasions. Forgive me."

"That's alright Giuseppe. Boys will truly be boys."

"I'm afraid that might be true."

Giuseppe led the Waldorfs inside their home, going on and on about Stefan, his academic attainment, his wonderful traits and abilities. Blair sat back, suppressing a yawn. It wasn't like Stefan looked boring. He had his fair share of looks. One might say he was rather handsome, but she has been around his kind of gentlemen all of her life. Uptight, scholarly, studious, supposedly has a sense of direction. It was like they all came from one source and that each one is just a copy of the other.

After tea and supper, Blair was allowed to wander the household with Stefan as her guide since the adults were to have further discussions about that herb. She could never say the name of it right, not that she had any interest in it.

Due to a strong, very rare, distaste for wander, she retired to her chambers and went to bed early, only to find herself not so sleepy and very much awake. She lay in silence as she thought of her stay with the Salvatores. So far they've been good people. Despite Giuseppe's pride and ego, everything else was normal. She and Stefan exchanged very few words as he walked her to her room to bid her good night. He was sweet. He kept his hands and thoughts to himself and let her talk, which was her favorite thing about him so far. Usually men wanted to get their word in on everything. Not him. He was the perfect gentleman.

She closed her eyes and imagined the beautiful fields they passed by on their way to Mystic Falls and what seemed to be a minute's rest was disturbed by a flash of light. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light. Dorota had drawn the curtains to let in the morning light. She groaned and pulled the covers up above her head.

"Miss Blair, your mother has requested that you join them and the Salvatores for breakfast."

"No."

"But miss Blair. Someone has just arrived."

She rolled the sheets down to her chin and raised an eyebrow at her handmaiden.

"I believe it is the older son of Master Salvatore."

"Really?" She had to stop herself from smiling.

"Shall I get your dress?"

"Yes please, Dorota,"

Ah yes. The mysterious older Salvatore whose name nobody has yet confided upon her. Stefan mentioned him once or twice during their tour, but he only referred to him as "my brother". Blair took only a few minutes of getting dressed rather than her usual ritual of taking time. She did not want one of the masters of the house to wait on her. That would have been rude. She stepped down the stairs slowly, letting them here her steps on the case. She was hearing laughter. Who knew Stefan Salvatore knew how to laugh?

A smile crept on her face upon entering the room seeing her delighted parents, a disappointed Giuseppe, Stefan, and a dark haired man with blue eyes, all seated around the table. He was telling jokes with his brother. It intrigued her. She expected sibling rivalry. But no. The Salvatore brothers were close. They were not just brothers. They were best friends.

She caught his eye soon enough, as have most of the people in the room. He stood from his seat and walked toward her with a devilish grin on his face.

"Good morning Miss Waldorf, I'm Damon Salvatore," he did as his brother, kissed her hand. She didn't know why but she felt her heart stop the moment his lips touched her skin.

"Please, call me Blair."

Damon kept his grin intact as he ushered her to the seat in between him and Stefan. Giuseppe kept quiet with his tea while watching the children interact with one another. Eleanor kept a close eye on Blair and how she was leaning towards the wrong brother.

"I apologize for not being here yesterday for your arrival, Miss Waldorf,"

"That's alright,"

He smiled at her as if they have been friends for a long time and she rests her eyes on his cheek, too scared that if he looked in his blue eyes that she might do something stupid like maybe faint or laugh or fall off her chair. He had an aura that was intimidating and it overshadowed hers, which she wouldn't admit, bothered her.

Blair forced herself to finish eating, not to mention finish drinking Giuseppe's horrible tea. He didn't even say where he got it from when she asked. It wasn't like it was the key to his youth. His years could be seen on the wrinkles on his face. What was so special about it that even her mother was trying to stomach the beverage?

That afternoon Blair decided that she would step out and take a walk. There was nothing she wanted to do inside the house. She spent all day trying to avoid the Salvatores. She was just on her way out when she heard voices arguing.

She took a quick peek and saw Giuseppe, his back to the door, and Damon sitting comfortably on one of the armchairs. She pulled her head back and listened.

"When are you going to grow up, Damon? Look at your brother. He is on his way to study at the university next fall! And where are you? Still here. Doing nothing. Being nothing!"

"I get it from my father," Damon sneered.

"Why you little—"

She imagined he was going to hit him so out of nowhere she popped out of the shadowy corner where she hid.

"Mr. Salvatore!" She suddenly found herself in a bit of a rut. Her heart was pounding heavily inside her chest. It was the only thing she could hear.

Giuseppe lowered his hand and turned to her.

"I'm so sorry for intruding but I can't seem to find my parents. Would it be alright if you tell them I stepped out for a bit if you see them?"

"Of course, dear. Where are you headed to though?"

"Oh just out for a walk."

"Alright then," Giuseppe nodded and turned back to his son but he was already on his feet, walking towards the door.

"Let me accompany you. You might get lost in the undergrowth." Damon called out to Blair.

She didn't say anything back. She just kept walking until she was outside. The cool air gave her a chill with its surprise. She clasped her hands together. How could she have forgotten that it was December and snowing? Maybe because it was so warm inside.

"Eavesdropping is rude, you know." Damon said.

"I wasn't eavesdropping. I was curious."

Damon smiled at this. Never has he met a girl who refused to apologize for her actions.

"I heard from Stefan that you will be staying for the holidays."

"I guess so. Unless I die from a cold." She sounded bored. She always tried to sound bored when she was with someone she barely knew. It was to test if they really wanted her.

"It was your idea to go for a walk. At first I thought you were joking but then you practically ran outside."

"I was bored. There's nothing to do in that big old house of yours."

"Have you seen all of it?" He stood in close proximity to her that she found herself holding her breath.

"All of what?"

"The house. Believe me you wouldn't be bored."

"Stefan already gave me a tour last night,"

"But I haven't," he smirked, "come on, Miss Waldorf. Seeing the house from my eyes would be absolutely more fun. Did he show you the prison cell?"

"There's a prison cell?"

His smirk escalated into a full grin as he offered her his arm. She reluctantly rested her hand on the crook of it and followed him as he gave her his grand tour which started with the cell. She was so curious as to why such a thing could exist in a warm house of friendly people. Damon said he didn't know either, with hesitation, and led her back up because someone might see them.

"And I do not want to have to hear another word coming out of his mouth for today." He said. "I love how you shut him up though."

Blair smiled, feeling accomplished. He then led her to one of the many studies. He claimed it to be his favorite since it was his mother's favorite even though it was probably the smallest room in the house. He let himself dwell on the topic of his mother. She was the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, Damon said. After a while he snapped back to what was now and carried on with his tour. She mused on the fact that he never mentioned his mother again. She kept herself from asking, and was too afraid of trying to do so. She had already stepped beyond the lines of formality with her questions about him and his family.

He was right though, his tour was much more fun than Stefan's. It was like every room came alive with memories of people who have been in them. And every now and again he would say a joke about his father and how he once tripped on a step on the stairs from frustration, or broke one of his mother's porcelain pieces when he had too much to drink.

Once they heard Giuseppe's horses head out, they snuck into his room. Blair was quite nervous. She didn't like it when there was a chance on earth that she might get in trouble. The last thing she wanted to be was in trouble in Mystic Falls where nobody had her back.

"We should not be in here," she whispered.

"Relax, Blair. I have done this a million times."

"What are we even doing here?"

"Touring," he turned to face Blair who stood still by the door, "this is my father's room also known as the lion's den, the king's quarters, hell, if you will."

"Why are we here?"

Damon's smile turned into a frown. He consulted himself for a moment before getting back to Blair.

"I honestly have no idea."

"You are a very strange man, Mr. Salvatore,"

"You've been calling me that all day. Please, call me Damon. Mr. Salvatore is my father."

"Okay, Damon. You are a very strange man."

"Thank you, my lady."

"Blair, darling?" She heard her mother call out. She immediately stepped outside the room, and Damon ran after her, shutting the door as quietly as he could.

"Mother?" Blair called out.

Eleanor emerged from the staircase and gave the pair a disapproving look. "A word, please? Alone."

"Oh, alright." She followed her mother down the stairs again, looking back at Damon who watched as she followed helplessly. Sorry, she mouthed, obviously not wanting to end her tour there. There was so much more she wanted to know, so much more he wanted to show her. But of course parents would find ways to miraculously show up during the climax of it all.

Eleanor went to the small study where Damon had brought Blair earlier—his mother's favorite room. It felt so cold and dark without him to lighten it up, but of course her mother didn't really help with the lighting.

They sat across from each other silently. Blair already knew what was to come of their conversation. Eleanor was going to stress the importance of being a lady in a stranger's house. She was going to advise not being so friendly with Damon. She would suggest seeking for Stefan's help instead.

"What were you doing with Damon Salvatore, dear?" Eleanor always started her speeches calm and collected. That way the person she was giving her speech to wouldn't know if something was wrong or not, but Blair knew. She's had a fair amount of speeches for her lifetime.

"He was just giving me a tour of the house, mother."

"I have been looking for you everywhere—"

"Me too," she countered.

"It is not proper for a lady to just go about alone with a man she barely knows."

"He was just being a good host."

"And besides, I thought Stefan had already given you the tour."

"It was cut short. I grew tired."

"My darling, you should watch yourself with Damon Salvatore. He is not as studios and as gentlemanly as his brother is."

"I know how to handle myself mother. Is that all?"

"We are not here for him." Eleanor's tone hardened.

"Then what are we here for? What am I here for, mother?"

"You will learn in time."

"Let's just cut to it and admit that you want me for Stefan. You and father. You did not raise a naive child. I know when something is up. And I will let you know now that I will not follow through with this… arrangement." She sneered and left Eleanor dumbfounded.

That evening Blair didn't come down for breakfast. She locked herself up in her room and turned in early for bed. Her father knew once Blair retreated to herself that nobody could pry her out of it no matter how hard they tried, so he let her be. She sulked and thought of ways she could get home. Maybe she could pretend to be sick. But she heard there were very competent doctors in Mystic Falls. Maybe she could run away. But New York was so far that even her horses needed a day's rest halfway through the trip. She sighed and lied back on the mass of pillows on her bed. She was too young for this. She had the world in her hands, but it was as if it were flying from her reach.


N/A: I just can't stop myself, can I? Well I am proud of this. It has body. It has emotions. It has Harold Waldorf and Giuseppe Salvatore. And it was set 1863. I tend to plot things around the holidays. This will be short since it was supposed to be a one-shot anyway. Maybe two or three chapters just might do. I really hope you like this. XOXO.