Title: The Vampire Chronicles
Category: AU
Main Characters: Caroline, Damon, Elijah, Katerina, Niklaus & Stefan
Genre: Romance/Supernatural
Prompt: "Evil is always possible. And goodness is eternally difficult."
Rating: M
Warnings: Language, Violence, and Sexual Situations
Note: Loosely inspired by the series "Dracula".
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i. New Orleans 1890
He hummed quietly to himself, eyes skimming over her form in silent appreciation. There she stood, in the center of the Vieux Carré, examining an assortment of floral arrangements with a careful eye. She looked breathtaking, wearing a cream-yellow shirtwaist and dark wool tweed tulip bell skirt of which was belted at the waist. Her hair, which usually smelt of lavender, was pinned up with only a few wisps of blond locks framing her face.
As if she could feel the intensity of his gaze, her eyes flickered up from the arrangement of Louisiana Iris. He knew she would not see him from his perch, on top the balcony of the Abattoir. But—for a moment, he caught a glimpse of her strikingly blue eyes. Purer than any sea he had sailed in all his years of being.
A part of him savored that purity. Believed that it was uniquely the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. It was something that brought light into his decrepit world. But—another part of him, a much darker part of him has dreamt about finally putting an end to this torture. Putting an end to it all—the distance, his growing desire, his hunger.
She sparked something within in that he hadn't felt in over a century. Not since Tatia, who she rivaled in every sense of the word. In beauty—
"Now, now Elijah," the low voice called out to him from behind. He peered over his shoulder, eyeing the man who stood in the archway watching him scrupulously. "What seems to have earned such enraptured attention?"
Elijah suppressed the urge to usher his brother's fancies elsewhere; and eyed him uncaringly as the man slinked away from the door and toward him until he himself could see what had caught Elijah's notice.
His eyes glided across the sea of people and faces, noting that neither man nor child had earned the consideration of Elijah Mikaelson's ever attentive eye. No, he would much rather delight in the beauty there was to be offered in the world—but would never truly allow himself to enjoy it. No, what had caught his eye had to be something delicate, pure.
A sly grin slithered onto his face as the snake once had into the garden. There she was.
"Who is she?"
Elijah cleared his throat, leaning an elbow along the banister of the balcony and blocking his brother's observation of the woman in question. "She is daughter of William Forbes."
He allowed for the information to sink in as the man took a step back, face contorting in thought.
"Forbes? William Forbes—why does the name sound familiar?" He drawled out in question, the name rolling off his tongue like a long forgotten poison.
Elijah sighed, standing to his full height and approaching his brother until they stood toe-to-toe. "I believe he was the head of the human faction until you had Marcellus kill him, Niklaus."
That gave his brother pause. Niklaus' gaze wavered a moment, eyeing the beautiful blonde and noting darkly that the flowers might have been for her father. If he still felt, if he still had a heart—he might have been able to empathize with the girl. So young, to have lost her father.
But his father had been a bastard. She was fortunate he had saved her from any future comparable to the one he had experienced.
If he recalled correctly, they had laid Mr. Forbes to rest a fortnight ago. He thought a moment, "Is she aware of her father's dealings?"
Elijah knew that voice. The one riddled with curiosity masked as disinterest. "No. She has been away, studying abroad."
"England?" Niklaus interjected, a familiar far off look appearing in the corners of his eyes as he spoke.
"Paris." His elder brother corrected, though he wished the man would forget the matter. Forget her.
The wolfish grin returned as he spoke up once more with vigor, "Très intéressant."
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ii. Lafayette Cemetery, New Orleans 1890
There was a slight chill in the air that morning, one that danced down her spine like the eyes of a lover. She had felt the overwhelming sensation that she was being watched. But when she turned to look, no one had been there. As always.
And now she found herself at father's grave, kneeling before it and resting a bouquet of iris on the soft mound where his head should lay.
"Morning, father," the young woman spoke up as brightly as one could muster, considering the circumstances. She brought a delicately gloved hand to the marble slab, fingers ghosting along his name. "I miss you."
She whispered, lips trembling as a stray tear ran along the curve of her pale cheek.
"I wish you were here," She added softly, slowly pulling her arm back to her side. Her father had been the only person to truly understand her. Where her mother failed, he excelled. And now she never felt more alone, since her return; even amongst the women her mother associated.
"I hope that I might be an apt substitute?" A voice stated gently, one that sent a flood of emotions throughout her. Ranging from disbelief to embarrassment to respite.
She stood up slowly, eyes widening momentarily as she took him in. More handsome than she recalled, in his dark trousers and gray waistcoat. His deep blue eyes stared into hers with a passion that was all too familiar.
"Damon." The woman breathed out, the corner of her lip curving skyward as he took steps toward her; closing the distance and wrapping his arms around her. She allowed herself to be pulled in to his warm embrace.
"Caroline." The dark-haired man sighed into her hair, allowing himself a moment to appreciate the way her body molded perfectly into his.
He had been away from New Orleans—away from home—for far too long.
"When did you get back?" She questioned, pulling away from him enough to get a good look at him. It had been over three years since she had laid eyes on Damon Salvatore.
"Last night," Damon admitted, offering her a sheepish grin before adding thoughtfully, "I would have called on you, but…I believe Stefan had you otherwise preoccupied."
The name of her fiancé, the name of his brother, leaving his tongue sent a rush of cold that otherwise changed the mood of their reunion. It was not too long ago that Damon had made his interests known, but she had been too young, and too in love with someone else to accept his proposal.
She exhaled, and he dropped his arms back at his side. He glanced passed her to William's grave marker, bowing his head, "I am sorry for your loss."
There was nothing more he could say. It was not if his words could ever bring back the most important man in a woman's life. Aside from her husband.
Caroline simply offered him a smile in reply as her eyes drifted to the gated entrance, where her chauffeur awaited her. She shifted her stare back to her unexpected companion, before speaking, "I must be off, but—"
"I know." The Salvatore smiled sadly.
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