Fair Lady
Every vampire has that one moment that overwhelms them. For most, it's grief – grief of losing a family member, a friend, or a loved one. In that moment, new vampires decide that numbness is preferable to the chaos of emotions swirling in their brain, and they switch off their humanity. Sure, new vampires think it's like flipping off a light switch - but they swap kindness for cruelty, joy for anger, and compassion for sadism. They still feel something, even if they may not realize it.
Why else would a humanity-free vampire dangle an innocent life before friends and family? Their gears have shifted from protecting the ones they hold dear to endangering them. A long time ago, a dear friend once told Bonnie that humanity was a precious gift.
("You need to open your heart again," she had said, back when Bonnie had fallen into despair. With a defiant expression and that glimmer of hope in her eyes, Lexi wasn't taking no for an answer – and in thirty years, Bonnie would be grateful for the help.) In hindsight, Bonnie should've heeded the advice, rather than scoffing at it and downing her sorrows in glasses of bourbon. After the fiasco in 1923, she had promised to embrace her complicated, messy feelings, rather than numbing herself to the pain.
Even if that pain manifested from the stress, worry, and grief of almost losing her almost-sister Anna forever. Towards the end of Bonnie's junior year of high school – well, her current junior year at Mystic Falls High, Anna had bitten off more than she could chew. Literally.
See, Anna constantly clashed with resident werewolf Tyler Lockwood over little things. Anna would criticize the football team, and in turn, Tyler would scoff at the school newspaper. They'd even growl and hiss at each other like kittens, forcing Jeremy and Bonnie to hold them back before the inevitable.
("Is this one of those classic rivalry things?" Jeremy would mouth to her every time, and it took every ounce of Bonnie's willpower to not laugh then and there.)
No one – Tyler included – would ever guess that Tyler would bite her mid-transformation. Anna had writhed, collapsing onto the grass beneath them.
Bonnie rushed towards her, catching Anna at the last second. As she cradled Anna close, she held in a breath. The blood oozed from the bite mark, dripping onto her clothes, on the grass, and even on the edges of her palms.
Tyler inched back from them, covering his mouth with a fist. "I am so sorry, Bonnie. I am so, so sorry…."
Fighting the urge to scream, Bonnie fell to her knees. "Call Damon. Now."
A few years ago, Bonnie wouldn't have relied on Mystic Falls' resident alchemist. Damon Salvatore openly discriminated against vampires, insisting that they ushered in disaster and distress. From the moment they first led eyes on each other, Bonnie could predict an uneasy start – and an even rockier road to friendship.
Bit by bit, she'd grown to rely on the least-boring person in town, savoring evenings in the Salvatore Manor with him. He used to – and still did – synthesize potions and healing elixirs and even daylight rings in his open-air kitchen. Most witches, like the Bennett family, preferred to work with fire. Damon, however, loved every single element. He let dirt slip through his fingers as he grew herbs; he would swirl water around in boiling mixtures; and he'd even rely on gentle breezes to dry his enchantments. Magic – his form of magic – was a blessing, one she grew to cherish.
When push came to shove, he was first in line to fight his idea of evil (which at one point, included her, a century-old vampire). She couldn't think of anyone better to solve her current predicament.
Tyler had agreed – so once he safely brought them to Salvatore Manor, the real work began. The Salvatore library held hundreds of books, containing knowledge straight from the Islamic Empire. Although most of it was written in Arabic, she had two fluent speakers right beside her.
Stefan cradled an old volume in his hands, mentally translating pages for anything relevant. His older brother Damon pilfered the shelves as the three of them worked. Damon's mother, Leila Salvatore – the third Arabic speaker in their household – had left for a fundraiser at the masjid with her husband. Neither Papa nor Mama Salvatore could help them until much later.
Not for lack of trying – Stefan had immediately texted his father: Dad, you have a minute?
Not right now. uncles need me for this. Try after Maghreb?
"Don't think we're getting much from them," Damon had said with a grimace, glancing over Stefan's shoulder. "I'm sure we'll find something."
Problem was, Islamic lore rarely told of werewolves. These shapeshifting creatures were limited primarily to Europe and the Americas – only recent immigrants had recorded their encounters. If she sought jinn, or tales of angels and ascending to heaven, she might've had better luck. Even vampires were foreign territory for the alchemists of old.
Damon's mother had admitted as such, back when she had first met Bonnie – and in turn, if Damon and Stefan were proper alchemists, they too wouldn't have worried over vampires, werewolves, and even ghosts. Instead, Damon had chosen to embrace his intermingled magic, of alchemy and Salvatore parlor tricks, while Stefan had leaned heavily towards Travelers' magic that granted him immeasurable power.
Every grimoire told the same story: Salvatores fought vampires, rather than saving them from werewolves' venom. Mansours, Damon's mother's family, never encountered them to begin with.
After hours of research with only dead ends at their fingertips, Bonnie excused herself from the library and slunk towards the backyard. As she had expected, no vampire had ever been bitten by a werewolf and lived to tell the tale. Bonnie had never heard of a cure for a bite: its venom in the blood of a vampire, according to the Bennett family grimoires, was fatal.
She knew of one person who may know a solution for Anna's condition. Decades ago, he had boasted of a cure that could remedy even a werewolf's venom. ("Just one sip, and they'll be as good as new," he had said, in that overconfident tone she had once known so well.)
Her pride was less important than Anna's well-being. No matter how much she wanted to avoid him, Anna came first. So Bonnie took a deep breath and dialed his current number. Receiving his voicemail – of course – she took a deep breath and said, "It's Bonnie. I'm willing to make a deal – you give me the cure for a werewolf bite, and I'm yours. Forever."
Hanging up before she could take her words back, Bonnie blinked back incoming tears. Her pride wasn't as important. Her mental well-being could take a hit, if he heard her call in time. She could handle the one man who may hold Anna's fate in his hands, even if they hadn't parted on the most ideal of terms.
Pearl, Anna's beloved mother, had picked the worst time to travel for a pharmaceutical conference (all the parents in their lives had, now that Bonnie thought about it). No one could reach her – and at this point, Bonnie wasn't sure it was worth the additional trauma. Still, if they couldn't find a cure… a call was a proper courtesy.
Just as Bonnie's fingers hovered over Pearl's number, Stefan walked towards her.
"Were you hungry?" He gestured towards the woods surrounding his home. "I thought I saw a deer earlier…"
She shook her head. "I'm fine. Um, thank you, for all of your help so far."
"It's no problem." Stefan let go of a breath that – from the looks of it – he hadn't realized he was holding in. His brows furrowed as his gaze shifted up towards his bedroom window. "I know we'll find something. There's always an antidote for even the rarest of diseases."
He wouldn't be Stefan if he weren't reaching for the impossible. The youngest Salvatore always saw a solution where none existed – and under other circumstances, she might have admired his optimism.
"We haven't found anything in your family's books – or my grimoires," Bonnie confessed, finally looking the kid in the eye. "You'd have to create one out yourself."
Something glimmered in Stefan's eyes as he rolled up his sleeves. "Challenge accepted. I'll see if Ty can cough up some venom for me." Without another word, he rushed inside towards the kitchen.
Bonnie couldn't bring herself to hate Tyler – this had been a complete accident. Like Caroline, Tyler was a new supernatural, learning the ropes from a far more experienced mentor and holding onto their words for dear life. Even Tyler's mentor, Mason Lockwood, hadn't realized the power of werewolf venom inside a vampire's system.
Despite her ambivalence towards him, Bonnie's blood still boiled at the thought of Tyler assisting in a cure. Anna's existence was hanging by mere threads, and no apology could erase what had happened. If he could cure her, and clean the mess he'd started, then maybe she could forgive him. Maybe.
Her ears perked up at the sounds of a scuffle, followed by Tyler screaming, "What do you mean, you want my saliva?!"
"Spit it out, Lockwood Jr," another voice called, with none of his usual attitude as his footsteps echoed throughout the hall. "We're not letting Anna die on our watch."
Bonnie could barely distinguish the muffled groans – Tyler's and Stefan's voices were blending together – as she strained to hear the rest. Beyond shuffling feet, silence threatened to reign over Salvatore Manor. Sure, experimentation was the lifeblood of an alchemist, but Stefan's experiments were usually loud. In this family, silence preceded disasters, not successes.
Tucking her phone into her jeans pocket, Bonnie headed into the Salvatore kitchen. Tyler was growling at them from a barstool, although he had long since resigned himself to his fate. Stefan slid Tyler a water bottle - and an empty vial - across the counter. Beside Tyler, there were two vials filled with (presumably) Lockwood saliva. Damon was hovering over the saucepan on the stove, his blue eyes deep in concentration as he poured a vial in. It dissipated into the mixture.
He didn't even look up as he called, "Just leave it to us, Bonbon."
"I know, Damon. I'm helping." She kissed him on the cheek, ready to roll up her metaphorical sleeves as she eyed the ingredients on the counter. Unlike science, alchemy relied on spices and ancient magic passed down from generation to generation. It was, in a way, an art, and one that Damon's family had mastered for generations. The Bennetts, back when she was human, had never practiced such intricate magic – and right now, Damon was the teacher to her faithful pupil. She hadn't fathomed the tables turning like this.
Damon stepped back, stirring the mixture with a flick of his wrist. "You can help by keeping an eye on Anna. I'm only waiting for this to cool down - hopefully, this should do the trick."
Tyler groaned. "It'd better. I'm getting dehydrated here."
"You did bite her," Stefan reminded him, leaning against the counter. "I figure, it's a fair tradeoff."
Tyler nearly swatted Stefan with his free hand - nearly, because Stefan sidestepped the incoming assault and handed Tyler another bottle of water.
"Drink up," Bonnie teased, although her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
If this didn't work – if the Salvatores couldn't concoct a cure from their stash of recipes and Tyler's venom – then she was at her wit's end. She lacked the magic to contact the spirits. She couldn't rely on Stefan or Damon to place a call either: neither believed in spirits. ("We believe in jinn," Stefan had said, when she had asked him about Giuseppe Salvatore possessing Damon earlier in the year. "Ghosts? Like our ancestor? Not so much.") On the upside, if she ever wanted to contact a smokeless being of fire, she knew who to call.
As Damon turned the stove off, Bonnie murmured an old prayer she had learnt from Damon's mother so many years ago. She didn't necessarily believe in God, but right now, she could use all the help she could get.
Half an hour later, after Tyler had guiltily left for Lockwood Manor and the mixture had cooled, Bonnie headed for Stefan's bedroom.
Quiet groans escaped Anna's lips as Bonnie stepped inside. Her almost-sister's face was paler than usual, with dark bags under her eyes as she sat up straighter. "Bon…?"
"It's okay. You're gonna be okay."
"How?" Anna raised her eyebrows. "Don't tell me you didn't…. make a deal…?"
"Then I won't." Bonnie smirked, flopping down beside her best friend. Stefan had warned her against close contact – the venom could seep through Bonnie's skin – but she figured merely sitting near Anna wouldn't harm her.
Anna coughed, pulling herself up. "You shouldn't have. Klaus was looking for an opportunity like this, Bonnie…"
And if he was? Bonnie wasn't in a position to argue, not when the boys' recipe would use Anna as a guinea pig. Without solid results, they couldn't verify if their antidote worked. Or so Stefan had said, before the rest of his lecture had turned into a bunch of scientific gibberish. Something about body chemistry and temperature regulation and vaccines? She couldn't make much sense out of it.
"I know. You're…" Bonnie bit on her lower lip. "The boys made you something as a pick-me-up."
Anna laughed. "I figured. It smelt really strong from here."
A light knock came at the door. Bonnie leapt to her feet, opening it to see Stefan with a bowl filled with the antidote, a red-orange liquid with the same consistency as ginger soup. He handed it to her, with a worried expression that spoke more than his stiff posture and shaking hands.
Bonnie accepted it, taking the bowl back to Anna and feeding it to her, sip by sip. Color re-emerged on Anna's face; her cheeks grew flushed; and life even returned to her eyes as she seized the bowl and gulped the remnants down. Her wounds were even closing, stitching themselves back together with each sip.
"This's really good. What's in it?" She asked, licking the edge of the bowl.
"A cure." Stefan was grinning from ear to ear as he stepped forward, bouncing on the heels of his feet. "I can't believe it actually worked!"
"Don't get ahead of ourselves, Marie Curie." Damon snorted, ruffling his kid brother's hair. "Let's make sure this works in the long term too."
"You mean… this wasn't a pick-me-up? It was an honest-to-God cure?" Anna slammed the bowl down on Stefan's bedside table; the entire room shook with her. "Bonnie! Your… your deal with Klaus…. If the Salvabros could whip up a cure from scratch… oh God. He's not gonna like this."
Damon raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"
Stefan's helpless shrug almost made Bonnie grin. Instead, she dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. "He probably won't, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. Thanks, Damon, Stefan."
She'd thank Tyler later, but considering he started this whole mess, it was only fair he ended it too. Thank God: she didn't want to imagine a world where that arrogant jerk held the only cure for werewolf venom – even if she was willing to bargain for it.
A slow smile graced Damon's features. With flushed cheeks, he murmured, "It wasn't a big deal."
"I'd say it was," she admitted, almost inaudibly as she helped Anna to her feet.
She still recalled the warlock - sorry, wizard - who refused to even smile in their presence. This young man was a far cry from that warlock, who used a burning hatred to rake her over the coals one day at a time. Damon had bent over backwards for her, even dragging Stefan and Tyler into the quest for a cure. Sure, Stefan initiated the challenge; Damon was the one who'd seen it to the end. Maybe there really was a hero buried deep in her boyfriend's heart.
Anna headed home soon after. Stefan insisted on driving her back, just in case.
"You never know," he'd said off-handedly, grabbing his car keys and rushing out the door to drive her back.
Damon rolled his eyes. "Just don't experiment on her. We've had enough of that already."
Were this any other scientist, Bonnie might've suspected the worst. Stefan, however, was no member of Augustine. His desire to experiment and learn stemmed from the same desire to help everyone he came in contact with. Magic and science were intertwined to him, and as long as he could fight for a brighter world, he would use whatever tools he had. (The kid's idealism always softened her heart; in this day and age, she no longer expected an attitude like this.)
In response, Stefan flung a beam of light in Damon's direction. As usual, Damon caught it and extinguished it in the palm of his hand.
"Sorry about that," Damon said, leaning in to kiss Bonnie. "He's been science-ing more than usual."
"Hey, his science-ing saved Anna," Bonnie retorted, pulling on Damon's shirt and bringing him closer to her. Although he smelled of stinky werewolf, it didn't overpower his earthy, saffron scent. Every time, she swore, this boy smelled more and more like traditional Jordanian cuisine. "I'm grateful to you two."
Time slowed down in these moments: Bonnie always managed to lose herself in Damon, finding new ticklish spots or places to rest her arms as she returned his affection. No one would arrive at Salvatore Manor anytime soon: Stefan and Anna would reunite with Pearl, while Damon's parents would return from the fundraiser in a few hours.
(She wouldn't dare stay over otherwise. Leila would always shoot her a guilty look or two. In their newly-religious household, Bonnie didn't feel right encouraging Damon to break his religious code of conduct.
Not that Damon ever minded said encouragement.)
"Isn't this sweet?"
Damon choked on thin air, as he was pulled back from Bonnie's grasp and into the unforgiving grip of an all-too familiar face.
Bonnie hadn't seen the other man in decades, but it was impossible to mistake that ire for anyone else. Despite the rage on his face, he carried himself confidently, dressed as a normal twenty-something man, with the exception of the lapis lazuli daylight ring on his finger. His slouched posture betrayed his confidence, otherwise hidden underneath layers of tailored jackets, loose-fitting long sleeve shirts, and black denim jeans. Around his neck was the fabled Bonfire gem - the garnet he'd named after her, all those years ago.
"Niklaus." Bonnie spat out, resisting the urge to reach for her (well, now unconscious) boyfriend. "What do you want?"
"Your loyalty, Bonfire." Niklaus lowered Damon into his arms and traced the edge of her boyfriend's neck, brushing off the metal chain that held the young man's gunblade necklace. "You told me you'd killed the doppelganger, and that you were willing to make a deal for the cure. Clearly, you lied. Twice."
Bonnie folded her arms. Of course she hadn't killed Elena: her best friend deserved life just as much as her ex-boyfriend. If doppelganger blood was necessary to create hybrids, then – then Niklaus wouldn't have his precious army. Elena's agency mattered too much.
"So you're just going to kill Damon? As retaliation?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "I thought you liked alchemists."
"I do. I need you more." Niklaus glanced down at the young man in his arms. Then, before Bonnie could react, Niklaus dared to ask, "What does he mean to you?"
Her heart nearly stopped. Bonnie took a cautious step forward. "What do you mean?"
"He clearly means something. I know that look." Niklaus's throat tightened as he looked back at her. His hands twitched with each short, jerky breath. For a second, she could've even sworn she felt the ground shake beneath her feet.
(Had he seriously expected her to wait? For him? Then he was far more delusional than she remembered.)
"A century's an awfully long time," she dared to say, her gaze never leaving Damon.
"So he means that much to you." His voice grew soft as he fiddled with Damon's signature necklace. "What happened to us, Bonfire?"
Besides the obvious? Niklaus had bullied her into switching off her humanity once before, revealing a bitter, jaded vampire who only regained her spirit with an unyielding best friend's guidance. To think, Bonnie's heart had once warmed at the sight of Niklaus Mikaelson, strolling into bars and nightclubs as if he owned the entire town. One smile, and entire towns would bow at his feet. Funny to see him so preoccupied with her - and by extension, the small Virginian town that barely blipped on his radar.
When she didn't respond, Niklaus's grip around Damon tightened.
She raised her chin defiantly at Niklaus. "If I pledge my loyalty to you, will you leave Damon alone?"
Bonnie wasn't exactly in a position to bargain, not when Niklaus could kill her boyfriend at any moment – and most certainly not when Niklaus would spend the entire summer trying to create an army that pledged undying loyalty to him alone. Ever since Niklaus had broken the curse on him, he had become a hybrid, one who desired a "family" to follow his footsteps and praise him to the heavens. Hybrids, of course, were only created through werewolves ingesting Niklaus's blood (and dying as soon as it entered their system).
Niklaus desired this possibly more than anything else in the world - though maybe not as much as he valued his Bonfire.
Right now, Bonnie had never been so grateful that everyone was scattered, lest Niklaus kill them with one swipe of his fingers. Tyler and Mason were traveling out of the country in the morning – and all the better, should Niklaus desire two Lockwood hybrids for his army. In hindsight, Bonnie should've realized: Stefan's desire to create a cure stemmed from worry for his best friend. Stefan was bending over backwards for Tyler, just as Damon had for Anna, and indirectly, Bonnie herself.
Niklaus scoffed, "You broke that pledge once already, Bonfire. I'm going to need more reassurance."
Bonnie stepped forward, close enough to inhale Niklaus's smoky cologne. Damon would stake her – and she wouldn't blame him – but if Niklaus wanted reassurance, she had to deliver. Gently, she brushed her lips against Niklaus's, holding onto his shirt for support as she let go.
Niklaus stared at her – really stared – before he unceremoniously dropped Damon's body on nearby grass. "You think that'll sway me?"
She shrugged.
He licked his lips, almost amusedly, as he flicked her nose. "You had me worried for a moment."
The hollow gesture might've felt sweet, had anyone else attempted it. Niklaus cupped her chin, and for a millisecond, every muscle in her body tensed. She couldn't fight him on Salvatore ground: surely Damon's parents would return at any moment. She couldn't shed blood at their doorstep, unless she desired her ashes sprinkled across the yard.
Niklaus murmured, in that domineering tone that always demanded her attention, "Still, I need to make sure. You're mine, Bonfire. You always will be."
The sinking pit in her stomach couldn't fight against his demands – nothing could, when he set his sights on the impossible.
As he kissed her, this time on the cheek, he added, "Come on, Fair Lady. We've got an army to build."
Author's Notes
Hey everyone! As some of you may've guessed, this is a role reversal fic, where Bonnie and Stefan have essentially switched places (with Bonnie becoming a humanity-less vampire and Stefan becoming a powerful warlock - and Damon also becoming a powerful alchemist/warlock combo as a result). There are a few key differences with the switch, mostly involving people staying alive; hopefully, these differences'll become clearer as the fic progresses!
While I didn't list this as part of the "Normal Life" universe, this can easily be read as a Bonnie-centric sequel - this takes place around the season two finale, and tries to fill in the gaps up until about early season 3. I hope y'all enjoy, and please leave a review so I know how I'm doing so far!