Innocence didn't mean we're immune to these things,
Let's blame the passage of time.
Love and loss, truth it costs more than I can spare right now.
Maybe it's simpler to lie...

~
Firefiles - Ron Pope

She watched nervously as Elijah stood and left the room just as graceful and quiet as he had entered. She would have to learn to be even more careful around such an unpredictable creature.

Elena attempted to keep her mind busy for a while, pondering what it meant exactly to be a pawn or why her death would bring him any form of satisfaction?

Her death. She had become so used to her life being threatened by the likes of Katherine, along with an ever-growing list of other immortal beings, that her fear of it was easily pushed to the back of her mind outside of Elijah's presence.

For the remainder of the night she paced the floor of the bedroom, quietly trying to keep herself busy. In the back of her thoughts, she was hopeful that Stefan and Damon were coming for her, but she would not openly allow herself to think that way for multiple reasons.

From the beginning she had done nothing but put them in danger. She knew they would undoubtedly risk their lives for her – again, and the thought of them having another encounter like the first with Elijah nearly caused her to cringe. She just could not allow herself to hope for such a thing.

Though in a way, she had always known this was coming. Cheating death was something she'd done on more than one occasion and it was sure to catch up with her eventually.

On the other hand, she knew for certain that other than a brief moment of boldness, she had done nothing to upset him to the point of seeking retribution. He held knowledge of Klaus but why exactly was he doing this to her and was it safe to seek information from the vampire – the Original vampire, that she knew next to nothing about?

As the first rays of the sun shone through the small bedroom window, the faint sound of a door shutting pulled Elena from her inner turmoil. It was then that she realized she had not heard a sound come from her captor for the remainder of the night. Her curiosity won over her ever-present fear as she silently made her way to the bedroom door.

Elijah's promise not to hurt her played on repeat in the back of her mind as she pulled the knob, willing her feet to step out. She found herself in an elegantly decorated hall way that doubled as a balcony looking out onto the first floor.

She was not in some ordinary house. This place was huge.

Auburn cashmere carpet covered the ground and draped gently down the stairs. The long hallway seemed to never end and was dotted by at least half a dozen white, closed doors. The walls were decorated with even more paintings, similar to the works of art that hung in the bedroom. What caught her attention the most was the elegant chandelier that hung just past the balcony, over the main floor. The facets in the large crystals caught the soft light, sending its rays throughout the house in a beautiful explosion.

She stood in silence, waiting to hear another sound, but when all remained quiet she slowly made her way down the stairs. When she craned her neck to peak around the adjacent wall, she found herself looking into a large modern kitchen, and the eyes of Elijah.

He sat casually on a bar stool with an old looking newspaper spread out on the island in front of him. He eyed her curiously for a moment before dropping his gaze down to his side.

"I've brought you some things," he stated as he grabbed a black bag off the stool beside him, holding it out in her direction. "I'm not sure how long this is going to take so I have also stocked the kitchen with provisions. I've never had to do this before, so please forgive me if it is not to your liking."

Was she dreaming or did his apology nearly sound sincere?

Hesitantly, she walked towards him and reached out for the bag. When she gripped the strap, her hand near to his, his own grasp tightened for a moment as he looked her over. Elena looked down at her own attire and realized she still wore the bloodied clothes from the happenings at Masquerade dance.

He had of course noticed her tattered clothing from the beginning and found himself genuinely curious. "What happened to you?"

She looked back to him, flushed with anxiety due to his closeness and – embarrassment? She wasn't sure if he deserved an explanation but she figured he would probably compel it out of her anyway.

"Katherine happened," Elena almost whispered. "Stefan and Damon were going to kill her but she had a witch link us together. Whatever happened to her, happened to me." She nearly cringed remembering the pain of something invisible tearing through her ribs.

Feeling her wince slightly, Elijah released his hold on the bag with an unreadable expression on his features. He had known Katerina was still as alive as a vampire could be, but he didn't think she was foolish enough to draw attention to herself in the doppelgänger's birth town. Much less get stuck in it.

Elena took a few steps back to make for a comfortable distance. He nearly radiated strength and the thought of what he could do when angry – or thirsty – was unnerving.

In an attempt at bravery, she sat down on the stool across the bar from him, cradling her bag on the counter between them as if it was a form of support. She had come down for answers and was going to do everything she could to get them.

Elijah simply raised an eyebrow at her show of valiance and silently waited for her to speak.

"I'm sorry about last night" she began, "it seems that my bloodline has been causing me a lot of trouble lately."

His lips quirked at that. The irony.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he stated almost incredulously. She was the one apologizing?

"Well I feel like I do," she continued, her clutch on her bag tightening a fraction. "I must be here for a reason. Can I at least know why?" She kept her tone level, doing everything in her power to conceal a growing swarm of angst.

Elijah turned his gaze away from her and briefly pursed his lips. He busied himself by slowly folding his newspaper. The fact that she had, in fact, done nothing to deserve this ate at him somewhat, but he would never show it. He was not one to openly feel for humans due to them being so disposable, no matter whose face they wore.

"As I have said, you are merely an asset... While you have not directly caused me any misfortune, your bloodline has." His tone grew firmer as he spoke.

"Well, you also mentioned Klaus," she retorted. "You're bringing me to him, aren't you? Do you work for him or something?"

With her innocent questions, he felt his practiced self-control threaten to slip. He would never 'work' for Klaus again. He had made that mistake once already, and that had been quite enough to teach him a valuable lesson. He worked for no one.

"No," it left his lips in a hushed rumble, "I work against him. And everything he stands for."

She was afraid of him. He could hear that clearly. And it was only fair for her to be as effected by him as he was by her. The monster in him enjoyed it for a moment; fluttering heartbeat and trembling hands. His self-control was fully in tact almost instantly, but losing it in the first place was something new. It was going to be hard to keep this girl alive if she continued to test him unknowingly. Remaining as civil as possible was key.

He took an unnecessary breath to steady himself. "He took everything from me."

The weight behind such a statement from Elijah caused Elena's breath the hitch. For a man so guarded it was something so… human. And she held a good track record for finding such qualities where they were believed to be lost.

Him confessing something like this to her was even more of a shock – to the both of them.

He did not like having to think about her, much less having to tell the tale, but he'd never felt so plagued. He figured he might as well start from the beginning if he was going to grace her with the tragedies that made up his life story.

She looked at him earnestly, waiting for him to continue.

"Her name was Tatia – the original Petrova."

This caught Elena's attention even more than his previous statement. She had the unfortunate pleasure of knowing Katherine, but this was her first time hearing of where it all began. When Elijah had told her that her blood was 'of a sacred origin' she had clearly mistaken his meaning. Her eyes widened slightly in interest as his focused on a faraway place, deep in his past.

"She was compassionate and warm, but also had a lovely fire to her. Though it was known she had already delivered a child out of wedlock, most of the men in our village fancied her... Myself included."

He stopped, obviously troubled. It startled her slightly when she felt pity for him as his face fell, the light of past memories leaving his eyes. This was the same man who she had watched throw Stefan down a flight of stairs and impale Damon with a stake in order to take her prisoner… but she was still Elena. She instead decided to partially distract herself by fumbling with a zipper on her bag.

This was proving to be harder on him than he thought it would be. Opening up to someone in the slightest was not one of his strong points, especially on a topic that was still so tender, it could have happened yesterday. It unbolted the door to feelings he had spent lifetimes locking away. Elena's overly apparent interest in the story was the only reason he continued.

"Unfortunately, the compassion that drew me to her also contributed to her own demise. When Klaus learned of our affections, he became taken with her as well... I would hardly call it love, but instead, a challenge. He wanted her heart simply because he believed it belonged to me."

Elena knitted her eyebrows together, both in sympathy and confusion. While seeing Elijah troubled did affect her in a way she refused to dwell upon, he still was not answering any of her questions.

"In the end, it did not. She opened her heart to the both of us – much like you toward the Salvatores." The reflection held an undercurrent of warning. "Her shared affection tore my brother and I apart."

A mixture of embarrassment and shame washed over her leaving a sickening feeling in their wake. Elijah did not fail to notice.

"I've always been a man of observation... The way you looked to Stefan, knowing he would try to save you – when you saw Damon's pain – you love them." He declared flatly with a single nod of his head.

It was a simple, sure statement that shook Elena to the core. It was true, but she hated how he was able to announce it so easily while she had been in a constant battle with the idea herself. When she remained silent with personal frustration, he continued.

"Harsh words and blows steadily increased in violence until our mother decided to intercede. Tatia's blood was used in the ritual that made us what we are," he paused to clear his throat when his voice nearly faltered. When he spoke again, his tone was laced with sick humor. "It was on that day that the original witch created the Original vampires using the blood of the original Petrova."

Our mother… Elena's breathing hitched with his words. Elijah and Klaus' were brothers. She stifled a shiver, knowing all too well what the transition from human to vampire called for and could easily guess the role Tatia had filled.

"That was long ago," he muttered after a moment, his tone weighed down by the memory.

While she was given no direct answers, she now better understood a part of Elijah's feelings toward Klaus. He was in seek of revenge in its most personal form.

His face was grim, more torment laid thick upon it than she'd yet to see, and that did it. Before logical thought could catch up with her actions, she reached out and placed her hand gently on top of his. At that moment he was not an intimidating Original or even her captor, but simply someone in need of comfort.

"I'm so sorry, Elijah."

The strength that he seemed to exude was, in fact, real. His hand, solid yet smooth, was undeniably inhuman under her light touch; a velvet stone. She couldn't help but to glance down at it for a moment, the size difference from hers being almost comical.

Stunning him would be putting it lightly. He froze, statuesque, as his pained expression slowly flashed through surprise, then mild confusion, before slipping back into his comfortable, stoic expression. The warmth from her small human hand was foreign, but oddly welcoming; though he was sure his face said the opposite as he looked down to where they touched.

No human had ever reached out to him in such a way in the entirety of his life as a vampire. He was one to be feared, not comforted and the circumstances that he had already forced Elena into made her action even more remarkable to him, much less what was to come.

She watched as his gaze dropped to their hands, the cold expression on his face causing her to gently lift hers away.

Before their touch was broken, he swiftly – softly closed his thumb over her fingers with just enough force to hold her hand in place over his. A need to show her that his reaction to her gesture was misread took hold of him and it truly was the only way he knew how.

He made great effort to be gentle as it had been a very long time since he touched something so fragile in comparison. He had not come into contact with a human without the intention of breaking it in a very long time.

It was her turn to be stunned. She had gasped slightly, expecting pain when Elijah's hand adjusted, but she was left with his gentle touch. Against her will and to her dismay, she felt her cheeks warm.

"It seems you two have more in common than just looks," he pointed out with a straight tone, his gaze focused on their hands – his proverbial mask perfectly in place. The realization stung for a moment, his past briefly spread out before him. He had seen proof that compassion was just as much a curse as it was a gift – one he would share no part in.

Thoughts aside, he couldn't help the small smile that pulled at the corner of his lips when he looked up to catch the rosy hue on Elena's face. It reminded him of a much less troubling time.

His touch was cool and reassuring but this was all so wrong. Elena pulled away insistently, allowing her senses to flood back.

"I just know how it feels to lose people you love," he watched as her blush faded, her tone nearly slipping back to a plead. "You want revenge, obviously, but how am I the solution?"

He only stared back at her for a moment, the silence causing her to feel uneasy.

"There is much more to explain, but first you need to change," he urged, all prior amusement gone. It was then that she noticed his darkening eyes were beginning to focus more on the bloodstains on her shirt than on anything else.

It was a warning she decided not to mess around with. She grabbed her bag off the counter as she quickly stood and made her way towards the stairs.

Elijah lingered in the kitchen for a moment after watching her leave. He tuned in to her footsteps falling lightly on the wooden floor above until he heard the bedroom door close.

With unguarded emotion came the need to feed and he decided he would do so at night fall. His carefully polished self-control could only hold out for so long.

He'd spent so much time preparing to be prepared for this, though it was turning out to be useless. Bringing up his past was hard on him. That, mixed with the unexpected torment Elena caused him, left him in a state he was not used to. Having to be around someone that looked so much like the woman he once loved was already a strain; much less they share a similar façade of compassion.

She had to remain an object to him and he knew that. While Elena may favor her, she was not Tatia and keeping that clear to himself was crucial.