Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or any of the characters from the quartet. They belong to the lovely L.J Smith. Any characters unrecognised belong to moi.
Just decided to do another Marie story, but this one is about Damon, Stefan and Marie's mother Marie. Hope you like?
Marie – Part 2.
Prologue.
It was a cold, dark night when my son was born. I remember it well; the year was 1486, and the wind was howling, and the rain was pelting against the windows. The contractions painful and frequent, the midwife telling me to push, the sweat on my brow being wiped away by my best friend Blaze.
And then, at long last, the cries of my newborn son. The midwife handed him over to me and as I looked at my son, he opened his eyes. His eyes were dark, like mine, and he had jet black hair. I fell in love with him instantly. I named him Damon.
His father, my husband, Guiseppe, the Conte di Salvatore, was proud that I had given birth to a son.
I grew close to Damon, and vice versa, I loved him more than life itself. He grew strong and healthy, he was able to walk at ten months, and say his proper first word at eleven months. He was the most beautiful baby I had ever laid eyes on, but he grew up to get into all kinds of mischief.
I chuckle at the thought. His father used to shout at him all the time, chase him around our splendid manor, and more times than enough, Damon had hidden himself under the hem of my dress, to avoid being caught by Guiseppe.
But things started to go wrong; when Damon was nearing his fourth birthday, I fell pregnant again. This birth was a complicated one. I remember the energy drain out of me, and eventually the life.
After nearly twelve, excruciating hours of pain and blood, my new baby was born. I named him Stefan.
As I held Stefan in my arms, I felt another wave of pain hit me, and after nearly two minutes of Stefan being born, I gave birth to another child, this one a daughter.
I looked at both my son and daughter, neither looked alike; Stefan looked like his father: black hair and dark green eyes, where as my daughter looked like Damon and I: black hair and dark eyes.
I felt the life slip away from me, and I died before I got the chance to name my daughter.
I woke up in a strange bed, in a strange room. Everything was too bright, the very few candles that lit the room seemed to be as bright as the sun itself.
"You are wake. I thought that you were never going to wake up." The voice came from the right of me, and when I looked in that direction, I saw my best friend Blaze sitting in a corner by my bed.
I sat up and looked at Blaze.
"What is going on? Why am I not dead?" I asked her in my quivering voice, looking around the room, taking everything in: the dark furniture, the opulent four poster bed, the dark red of the walls and blankets.
"You are not dead because I made you a vampire…"
Okay people, I think you know the drill? R&R please. This is the first story that popped into my head since I last updated The Next Generation of Daybreak. Let me know what you think, is it good, bad or just the same as my other stories?
