Title: Change (And All It's Friends)
Author: Bynamearose/CynicalAuthoress
Fandom: Vampire Diaries
Rating: M
Pairing(s): Elena/Elijah
Summary: This is the line between sanity and sentiment – the line that's broken him every time.
Warnings: None
Notes: Written for dance-at-bougival on Tumblr.
Disclaimer: If I owned this show, Elijah wouldn't have left. Fgfgfgfgfgfg. End of.
–
Elijah knows he cannot continue without seeing her. Whatever it was that he'd broken – a promise to keep her alive, trust, which had been warily gained – he was still as in awe of her existence as he had been from the moment he first saw her: the perfect, negotiating, headstrong, selfless doppleganger, alive and human against all odds. He couldn't stay away, and that was as equally a blessing as it was a curse.
He can't continue without seeing her, and it's a pull that triggers emotions he tried to leave behind centuries ago. Guilt. Frustration. Joy. Longing.
Every word he has exchanged with Nikklaus since his last awakening is behind him, looming over him like a shadow, but, when he reaches her door, he imagines, quite readily, her light breaking through that overcast, even momentarily. He finds peace.
Elena gasps softly when she sees him in her bedroom doorway. She's in a pair of shorts and a tank top, with much more skin revealed than he'd ever witnessed. There's something different in her now – stronger, brighter – and it occurs to him that she's perhaps had as much of an awakening as he has since he's been gone. When Elena collects herself – realizes she's not mistaken, her dark eyes narrow.
"Elijah?" she asks, and he smiles curteously in response. "How? Did Stefan-"
"Damon was kind enough to remove the dagger from my chest," Elijah murmured, still watching her from the doorway.
Elena looks surprised, but eventually nods with an unreadable expression. Elijah saw her swallow, her back against the dresser as she grew settled, her gaze flitting from him to the floor. The house is silent, save for her heartbeat, which picks up pace as he steps forward, into her bedroom.
"You're alone in this house," he observes quietly. "Why?"
"Jeremy's gone. Klaus-" At the name, Elena seems to stop and purse her lips in frustration. She lets it out in a breath. Ripping off a bandaid, she thinks. "- he tried to kill him. It wasn't safe. He needed to leave." She seemed to be justifying it more to herself than to him, but before he could comment, she continued smoothly, shrugging, "Alaric stays here most nights, but he, um, he's out." Elena stops, finally out of explanation, and stares at Elijah.
"Now, it's your turn," she said hesitantly, continuing with bated breath. "Why are you here?"
"Pardon?" Elijah asked, something like amusement and curiousity flickering in his eyes.
Elena stared back plainly, as though what she was asking was obvious.
"You're undaggered. Shouldn't you be off planning Klaus' ultimate demise?" She rolled her eyes, a ghost of bitterness unnatural against her usually gentle features. She folded her arms, in a moment, looking very much the way he remembered her – fearless, stubborn, eduring. "That's about the only thing worth talking about to anyone these days. So, why come here?"
"I was reunited with my family today." It's an odd way to answer the question, but Elijah won't deny her the truth, candid and unequivocally direct, if she asks. Elena looks shocked again, not devastatingly so, but enough for him to see her eyes widen in surprise and recognition.
"Klaus took the daggers out of-" Elena stops, blinking, and swallows, taking in what he's said. "...He made good on his deal."
"No."
"No?" she asks, looking puzzled. "He didn't set them free?"
"No." Elijah confirms. He looks down as he shoves his hands inside his pockets, walking towards her only slightly before they lock eyes and Elijah knows he shouldn't move any closer, shouldn't break any more boundaries than he already has by coming here. This is the line between sanity and sentiment – the line that's broken him every time. "I rose my family with the help of Damon and Stefan. I intended on punishing Nikklaus, perhaps killing him if he gave me the inclination."
Elena doesn't flinch, only nods in agreement.
"Suffice it to say that I did not, and the coming months, I fear, will determine more than just Klaus' future, but also my own." Elijah pauses and, for the first time in quite some time, finds himself gathering words laggardly, hesitantly. "I rememberred, tonight, the capacity of forgiveness and I found myself...in need."
"Of forgiveness?"
Elijah smiles at her, but it's filled with something she can't put her finger on. "I've done many things I regret, Elena."
"I think that applies to a lot of people, Elijah," Elena says, looking wry.
"I owe you an indefinable apology."
She doesn't argue. She doesn't want to argue. Instead, Elena shakes her head. "Elijah..."
"I gave you my word, Elena." Elijah says, casting a severe, penitent glance her way. Elena can't do anything but lower her eyes; she knew what he said was true long before tonight, but the confirmation leaves a sliver of faith behind in her. "I don't expect your forgiveness, Elena. I desire it, but I do not expect it any more than I would expect your trust after I betrayed it."
This still means something to him.
He isn't just the arm of Klaus, another player on the board.
That's a rare quality, these days.
"Had I not broken my word, I would not have been reunited with my family, something which I've been longing for for centuries."
As he finishes, her eyes meet his with defiance, and Elijah sees the unuttered burden that speaks of being a means to an end; no longer was Elena an ally, but a tool to used and discarded when creatures much older than her see fit. He can see quite clearly why the words are unuttered as well. While her eyes are filled with fire, her heart is filled with a weariness that leaves her fight long behind today. She's tired, in more ways than one, and there's always another battle to be fought, night after night.
"But my lack of action has caused you great sufferring, which I regret deeply." He's closer now, hands still in his pockets, her face inches from his own. His eyes stare unflichingly into hers. "I am sorry, Elena."
The eighteen-year-old still narrows her eyes, but her features are softer as she speaks.
"I understand why you did what you did, Elijah. It was your family," Elena says finally, and this, along with what come out of her mouth next, is why he admires her – why their connection and understanding leaves him taken aback, why he knows she is neither Katherine nor Tatia. "I know what that means to you. I get it. I do. And it would be hard to say I wouldn't have done the same."
Elijah blinks, and lets out a small chuckle under his breath, his lips curving into an affectionate smile. "I think you would surprise yourself."
"I might." Elena worries her bottom lip before meeting his eyes soberly. "A lot has changed, Elijah."
"Things always change, Elena."
Elena rolls her eyes. "And people?"
"Sometimes, they change as well." Elijah quirks a brow, both hands in his pockets as he speaks. "And other times, they're much stronger than they first imagined." Elijah makes his way to the door slowly, incling his head and smiling back at her. "I think it's about time I say farewell, Elena."
Elena takes in a breath, nodding before he senses her heart pick up with reknewed vigor. "Elijah?"
"Yes?"
She thinks her words over carefully, making sure she means them before they reach her lips. "I want to trust you."
Elijah wonders if he'll ever quite lose the awe he feels when he looks at her.
"Goodnight, Elena."
He sincerely doubts it.