chapter one: You say go slow, I fall behind.
Caroline treads slowly through the woods. Her black boots trudging through the dirt and fall maple leaves. Her hands are warm inside the pockets of her brown leather jacket. The mist inside the forest slowly rises up to her knees as she walks deeper and deeper into the forbidden expanse of space. Her feet all-knowingly lead her to the one place she knows she shouldn't be near. Caroline has practiced what she will say when she reaches her destination.
I'm sorry.
Steadily the great white mansion appears before her. The drive way is empty; so unlike the evening of the ball many, many years ago. The hedges untrimmed, the extravagant fountain dry, the white colour on the pillars deteriorating. Caroline can remember the first time she was here, on the night of the ball, thrown not so graciously by Esther. She remembers the white horse, and paintings, the sketches, the gifts enclosed in luxury velvet and wrapped in smooth ribbon. She remembers words, his words.
Beautiful, Strong, and full of light.
Caroline can remember the first time she was here. Sixty years of walking through the woods behind her and searching through the house in front of her. Sixty summers walking through the woods in floral white dresses, sixty autumns of brown leather jackets, sixty winters of red mittens and sixty silk scarves in the spring. Caroline can remember the first time she was here, and the second, and the third, the fourth, fifth and then every day after, for the last sixty years. For sixty years she has watched her whole shift and be pulled from under her. She watches as her friends say their last goodbyes and make plans of returning.
I promise, we'll see each other soon.
She knows there's a slim chance that they'll all be together again in the same place at the same time. This place they all once called home is home no longer, just a mere flash of memory and nostalgia. The Lockwood mansion burnt to the ground, Gilbert house destroyed and re-built as a homeless youth shelter. Matt's house broken, vandalised and home to vermin and decomposing bodies. The only shelter she has to remember her childhood by is Bonnie's villa, which now belongs to a panicky Scandinavian family. Caroline still has her own home to go to, but home is where the heart is. And she lost that, sometime many years ago.
Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.i
The house is now covered in a thick layer of dust, the grand staircase unused, and the large chandelier detached and placed in the basement. The oak flooring creaks underneath her as she treads carefully through the hallways of mansion. There is no butler at her service, no waiter to offer her champagne, no music to quiet down the thudding of her dead heart. Silently her hands turn the bronze knob of the door to a room where she knows she does not belong. Her eyes catch the morning mist swimming through the barely opened windows, the moon illuminating patches of location within the area. She stands in front of the empty wall which once occupied a large Manet. The table in front of her is void of the sketches it once held, only to be covered by a white sheet.
She knows he did this on purpose, if she would not have him; he made sure she would have nothing.
"My deepest condolences, Caroline." Her short blonde hair whips fast against her face as she turns to find the source of the voice from behind her. There, sitting languorously in a large leather armchair in the corner of the room, with a glass of scotch in his hands is Elijah, not a day aged since his last day here. She tries to regain her composure but what the hell, he's a thousand years old and like a certain doppelgänger many years ago, she has the good sense to look frightened.
"Elijah." She breathes, as a grimace creeps up his face.
"Sheriff Forbes was a great comrade back in her days," He continues, "For her trust and support, I will be forever thankful. Apologies for my absence during the funeral, I had some… business that needed taking care of."
"What are you doing back here?" It's the first sentence she has conjured in his presence. It lacks her usual force and anger, but she mentally congratulates herself for saying something, anything.
"In case you've forgotten Caroline, this is my home." And she can highlight so many flaws in that remark, she wants to say things like no, this is his home, or only the living, breathing deserve homes.
"No Elijah, it's not. It hasn't been for the last six decades." Caroline says forcefully, folding her arms and looking him in the eyes. Elijah contemplates her reply for a moment before deciding to ignore her; he gets up from his seat, not a wrinkle in sight on his impeccable navy suit and makes his way towards her. Caroline stands still as he approaches, her arms still firmly crossed and her feet planted steadily onto the floor, yet her dead heart beating frantically like a scared gazelle's.
Elijah reaches out to rub his thumb over her cheeks and down her jawline, she lets him because it's been a while since she had any form of contact with another being. Human or not. He notices the lack of colour on her face, her blonde fading and fraying, her pink glossy lips replaced by a light prune colour.
"When was the last time you had blood, Caroline? Human blood?" he asks. Surely, the girl wasn't on the rabbit diet. He needed to have a serious word with the youngest Salvatore. Even though they're both pretty sure he knows the answer, Elijah looks into the blue eyes of the baby vampire and initiates an obvious attempt to compel her. "Tell me."
"Twenty years." She replies immediately, easily, and it's just as he suspected. She's been reckless, careless. Abandoning all practices for self-preservation. She's been selfish and inattentive. Silly girl.
"Stopped wearing the lapis ring around the same time." Caroline adds willingly, really what was the point anymore? She sees him struggle to say something comforting, to make her feel content. But nothing he says could comfort her, what would he know about living in abandonment, isolation and half a century of unwilling loneliness? He can't feel what she feels right now. Not even being daggered and placed in a coffin for a hundred years could cover for what she's been feeling every day for the last twenty one thousand days.
"Why are you here, Elijah?" she asks again, not wanting to stretch their time together any longer. She needed to get back home soon, even after all these years, the woods weren't safe after a certain time.
"It's time to let go of Mystic Falls, Caroline," Elijah says softly. "It's time for you to leave." Caroline flinches as he coos these words.
"You can't banish me from my own-."
"That's why I'm suggesting politely. You need to leave this town, move on and not look back. There's nothing left here for you, anymore," The eldest Mikaelson instructs and explains. "This is for you benefit."
"Why not just dagger me?" Caroline whimpers sarcastically, by now she is in Elijah's arms as he comfortingly holds her. He laughs, for the first time in what seems like a long while, at her remark.
"Now, now that would be a tragedy sweetheart. See I'm not sure whether Katerina and Damon would be too fond of the passing of their only creation. I also don't think He would let me bat another eyelid for any longer afterwards," she realises the truths in his words. "Killing you would be such a waste; you with all your strength, beauty and light," Elijah teases, knowingly.
Strong, Beautiful, and Full of light.
"The world can't afford to lose Caroline Forbes."
She occasionally wonders if her mother and father are watching over her now. Bodies rejuvenated back to youthful years and hands clasped with each other's respectful partners. She thinks they are now happy, they must be. It's been a month since the passing of her mother, and she's content in knowing fully it was natural. No pain, no screams, no blood, no bites.
Elizabeth Forbes was never the mother her daughter wanted her to be. She was however, in many ways better than Caroline hoped for. Once the last of Caroline's friends had disappeared, she made it her topmost priority to make up for lost time with her daughter, and for the times she would not be here.
"Caroline," Liz says to her daughter as they sit side by side next to Bill's grave. "Do you think you'll ever forget my face?" Surprisingly there is no quality of fear, or sadness in her voice. Just a simple question.
"Mom, please."
Liz smiles. "Why avoid the inevitable? Tell me, I want to know."
Caroline clasps her Liz's hand and rests her head against the large maple tree protecting her father's body. "Daughters don't forget their mothers." she says with a tone of finality. As if to convince herself of these words. "I haven't forgotten dad. And you're no exception either."
They're in the kitchen the next time Liz asks another question about her daughter's future without a mother. "What will you do once I'm gone?"
"Seriously, mom?" Caroline looks up from her bowl of so-effing-good penne pasta, her mouth full but in a scowl.
"Ease my distress, Care!" Caroline gulps down half a glass of milk after finishing the pasta in her mouth. She slumps with a sigh. Elbows on the kitchen counter. Slowly she begins to speak.
"I don't know, I might go to college, Brown maybe. Climb Macchu Picchu, help people suffering," Liz, with a smile that crinkled her eyes, had started to nod her head violently in approval, so Caroline continued with a blank face, "Colour my hair green, change my name to something endearing like Angela, or Svetlana, or something to shock the status quo like Timothy!" With her eyes wide, she finishes in a sarcastic tone. Liz folds her arms.
"You're not seventeen any more Caroline." Pointing out the obvious. "I need you to get used to the fact that one day I won't be here." Caroline ignores her mother, finishes her penne and her milk before heading up towards her room.
"If you weren't a vampire, do you think I would be a grandmother right now?" It is two years later, her eyebrows furrow as she watches the superbowl with great concentration. She's not as shocked with her mother's nagging and questioning as she used to be. Caroline knows once the question has been asked she can't avoid answering too long. She turns away from the half time show and faces her mother, who is calmly knitting crème coloured booties for an unborn baby.
What does surprises her though, is that for the first time in years her mother has asked a question in relation to herself. There is a slight pang of guilt as Caroline realises what she had robbed her mother off. That Liz Forbes wouldn't be able to complete her last rite of passage in life. Her mother patiently waits for an answer as her hands twist and turn the yarn around the needles. Caroline wants to take a picture of those hands, hands that bathed her, fed her, and raised her. Hands that would have joined hers for the nurturing of the next generation.
"Tyler would have liked a boy; you know, mayor, city council and all that. Whereas… Matt is a sucker for girls." Caroline goes through the boys she had dated and wonders if they had ever thought of a future with her.
"I once overheard Jeremy and Tyler agreeing that, Marley, "is like the best name in the world dude", although am pretty sure there was a bong in Jeremy's room at the time. Matt would have named the girl after you; boy was always such a pleaser."
"I was the only figure he had closest to a mother. But off course you wouldn't have gone down without a fight."
"Obviously mom! I would have named her something like Angela, Svetlana or-."
"-Timothy?" Liz laughs.
As the years pass, her mother ages gracefully. The backyard, with its blooming sunflowers, tulips, and roses are a sign of her time spent during retirement years. She spends days snipping, clipping, patting and planting. Caroline would sit out in the sun those days, cased in the safety of her ring. A glass of long island in her hand, watching as her mother created their own Eden. Even once night fell upon them, the glass empty, Caroline stayed back, staring up at the monthly full moons. Trying so very hard to breathe in the fragrance of her mother's gardenias.
Some days she would join her mother in action. Helping her carry the bags of fertilisers to the garden. Placing nets over the strawberry patches. Watering the plants once they were placed into the soil. Darling, that's too much water! And on the very rare occasions, when the sunflowers were facing the sun and the cherry tomatoes were growing in perfect speed, her mother joined her. They reclined side by side in blue and white striped seats, glasses of lemonade in their hands. The lazy hum of the cicadas lulled them into ease. No words were spoken, no looks were given. And if weren't for her age, Caroline thought, they could have maybe even looked like a family. Just the two of them. Finally in peace with one another.
Over the phone Elijah instructs her to do nothing but pack lightly and be ready to leave town immediately she can hear the hum of a foreign language in the background. Strangely she can even feel the sun.
"Where are you?" she asks in confusion.
Paris, Rome, Tokyo.
"Listen to me carefully Caroline and do as I say." He instructs, deliberately ignoring her question. "I need you to put on your ring- did you hear what I said? You will need to put on the Bennett witch's ring." He shouts a little louder, trying to speak over the growing noise around him.
Suddenly there are three firm knocks at the door.
"Elijah! Was that you?" she smiles, almost squeals, growing slightly excited by the minute. Caroline quickly hangs up the phone and bounds over to the door with newfound energy, only to find quite the opposite of what she had been expecting.
"Call me Kol."
i Quote: Oliver Wendell Holmes
This is my first story here. I'm looking for a beta! Leave me a review pls xx