Elijah had been minding his own business, sipping coffee outside a charming little restaurant, when WHAM.

Next thing he knew, he was lying face down on damp grass. It was all terribly undignified and as he sat up he reached for his pocket handkerchief to wipe his face.

"Are you all right?"

Elijah took in his surrounding. Mossy trees were growing on three sides, while a wide river flowed to his left. This clearing didn't look like Mystic Falls and everything felt wrong, as if magic were in every dust mote. He fixed his gaze on a woman with long red hair.

"I'm fine," he assured her, smoothing out his jacket. "Please excuse the interruption."

She stared at him. "You're not from here. I can smell magic on you."

Elijah raised one well-kept eyebrow. "What does it smell like?"

The woman took a step forward, a sly smile on her face. "Like a pool bathed in sunlight. I'm Shota. I'm a witch woman."

Elijah did his best not to react. He was sure a witch had got him into this and it stood to reason a witch could get him out of it. "Elijah." He gave her a bow, because it seemed the right thing to do. "Charmed, I'm sure." He reached for her hand and pressed the back of her hand to his lips.

"Where are you from?" Shota asked.

"I have no idea how to describe it to you without knowing where I am. May as well be a galaxy far, far away, for all I know." Elijah looked around for a stick and crouched down near the river, sketching in a patch of mud with the pointy bit of the branch.

Drawing the solar system didn't help much. Shota understood the basics of the sun and the moon and the tides, but the idea that there might be other planets seemed somewhat beyond her.

"Can you be more specific?"

So Elijah drew a rough world map and pointed to America, and when she asked him to be even more specific, he started afresh. This time he drew a map of Mystic Falls. He explained how it was full of magical energy and Shota pointed to a mountain range on his map and then stood and pointed to the trees to their north.

"There's a mountain range, the Black Hills. Very old, very magical. It's possible they exist in both our worlds and form a gateway of sorts between them." She turned back to Elijah. "I could take you there."

"At what price?"

Shota shrugged. "You don't belong here. You didn't intend to be here. I want to help."

Elijah sensed something else but he didn't press the issue. "Then I accept your offer."

Shota asked about the witches in his world and Elijah gave same vague answers about them serving nature. He wasn't sure who was behind his trip to this so-called Midlands, but he suspected Bonnie Bennett, who had become more powerful every time he'd encountered her. Quite how or why she'd sent him here he didn't know, but he was going to be sure to question her about it at length if he got home.

Shota tripped on a bramble vine and Elijah moved swiftly to catch her. She stared up at him appreciatively. Elijah grinned and set her back on her feet.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Elijah gestured and Shota continued to lead the way.

They'd been walking for about an hour when Shota stopped and took a detour to a nearby settlement where she purchased some cooked chicken legs and a large flask of wine. Elijah shared the meal with her, not because he needed it (and he really wasn't hungry for anything, let alone food, right now), but because as far as Shota knew he was human and he didn't see the point in disabusing her of that notion.

As night drew on, Shota stepped into a clearing. To Elijah's surprise the clearing had a deep covering of fallen leaves, a fire pit in the very centre, and a blanket with a picnic basket sitting to one side of the pit.

"More magic?" he asked.

"It pays to be prepared," Shota said cryptically. She took up a small branch and stirred at the fire pit which obligingly burst into flames. Well if witches in this world had well stocked bolt holes all over the place, so be it.

They ate in companionable silence. Shota had acquired a fur coat from somewhere, but held her hands out to warm them by the flames.

"Tell me more of your world," she said.

"I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Then tell me more about you."

Elijah leaned over the fire. "I'm not sure I know where to start there, either."

"You're not human."

He drew back, surprised. She didn't seem afraid of him. Shota laughed. "Is magic so rare in your world that you hide who you are?"

"People hide many aspects of themselves, mostly for their own safety," he returned. "My kind, and those like us, do walk unseen by most."

"What do you call your kind?"

"I am a vampire."

Shota tried out the unfamiliar word a few times. "What does it mean?"

"I don't think anyone knows for sure. The term has developed over time." He was being deliberately obtuse. He faked a yawn. "Is it safe to sleep here?"

"Yes. No one can enter here without me knowing it."

Elijah settled himself down on the leaves. Shota wrapped herself in her coat and lay down on the blanket. Far away a wolf howled. He wondered if they had werewolves here, and, if they did, what they were called.

The next morning they left the clearing and the entrance vanished into the trees and bushes, becoming invisible even to Elijah's supernatural gaze.

They continued walking in the direction Shota indicted, until Elijah froze. Shota stopped, on high alert. They were being watched, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Elijah murmured. He got what he asked for, which turned out to be not what he'd expected.

A metal blade came flying through the air and Elijah narrowly avoided it, though it caught his knuckle. He let his fangs show, enraged. Three women dressed in red veils advanced on them and Shota uttered what Elijah assumed was a spell and sent the one closest to her flying.

Elijah used his superior speed to move behind one of their attackers and snap her neck. The remaining woman however advanced quickly and stabbed him in the chest with another of the strange blades – they resembled shuriken, from what he'd seen. He grabbed her and bit down on her neck. Blood, rich, healing blood, filled his mouth even as white hot pain radiated from the blade embedded in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him into unconsciousness. The pain and pleasure fought for dominance but at last his victim began to weaken, giving him the upper hand.

The woman's heart stopped and he dropped her drained corpse to the floor. He fell to his knees.

"Elijah!" Shota hurried over to him, apparently not in the least disturbed at his actions or gory appearance. "You're hurt."

Understatement, much? Elijah nodded, gritting his teeth. Dammit, the sun was burning him, smoke rising from his skin. "The daylight," he gasped. "I need shelter."

Shota was quick on the uptake and didn't question him at all. With a wave of her hand, they were beneath a nearby tree. Elijah sank down against the tree trunk, grateful for the blessed shade.

The burning subsided and Shota knelt alongside him. "It's a dacra," she said, pointing to the blade still sticking out of his chest. "It's a magical weapon."

Which probably explained the power struggle he'd engaged in while he was killing the thrower of the blade. "Can you remove it?"

"You killed the one who threw it, so it should be safe to pull it out, but I can't promise anything. I've never dealt with one of your kind before."

"I can't be killed," he said, but a sudden wave of fear swept over him. What if the rules were different here? Why was he suddenly being burned by the sun?

Shota grasped hold of the dacra and Elijah closed his eyes, bracing himself. It didn't hurt as much coming out as it had going in, and he felt his healing powers kick in as soon the blade was removed.

"That's impressive," Shota said. "Your hand, too, and those burns. They're almost gone."

Elijah glanced at his hand. He'd forgotten about the injury to his knuckle. His expression darkened as he saw a crack in his daylight ring.

"What's wrong?"

Elijah held out his hand to her. "My ring. I never thought it could be so easily damaged. It protects my kind from sunlight, which harms us." It seemed foolish to hide the fact from her now, when she'd seen him almost bursting into flames right in front of her.

Shota took this in her stride. "It's a magical artefact, this ring?"

"Yes. The witch who created my kind made it for us." What would he do without one? He might not die, but he could be hurt, incapacitated – and he had no desire to skulk in the shadows. Damn dacra.

Shota rubbed her thumb over the damaged stone. "Perhaps I can fix it."

There could be no harm in her attempting it, so Elijah slipped off his ring, feeling somehow naked without it, and pressed it into her palm. She gave him a smile.

"It seems I'm very lucky," Elijah commented, shifting into a more comfortable position against the tree trunk. "Of all the places in this world, I fell at the feet of a powerful witch."

"It's probably not coincidence," Shota said, examining the ring. "Magic can attract magic." She recited several spells, none of which did any good. Finally, she held the ring between her right finger and thumb and pressed her left hand over the stone. She didn't use words, just intense concentration. Elijah watched with interest as an orange glow radiated from her hands. When she handed him the ring back it was slightly warm and the crack was completely gone, and Shota was panting a little from exertion, and proud of herself.

Elijah slipped the ring back on and stuck his hand out to one side, letting the afternoon sun play upon his bare skin. It didn't hurt in the least. "Thank you," he said.

Shota nodded, toying with a lock of long hair. "You feed on blood."

He'd rather she hadn't found out in the way she had, but it couldn't be helped now. "Yes."

"You need to feed on blood?"

"Yes."

"Do you have to kill?"

"No. But I think that little incident should count as self defence." Elijah tipped his head. "I'm not going to hurt the witch who just saved me." Shota didn't know witches could hurt vampires without lifting a finger and he wasn't about to tell her that. But he was also telling the truth. He needed Shota alive and it would be in his best interests to protect her rather than hurt, or allow anyone else, to hurt her.

Shota shrugged. "There are always more Sisters of the Dark," she said, which struck Elijah as rather cold blooded – and sensible, if bands of these assassins went around preying on innocents. "I just wondered…when you bite someone…" One hand went to her throat, caressing it.

Elijah knew what she was hinting at. "It can be an intimate act," he confirmed.

Shota nodded and then got to her feet. "If you're feeling better, we should move on. There's a much more suitable place to camp further on. And you should wipe your face. We'll cause alarm otherwise."

"Can't you transport us to the Black Hills the way you moved us beneath the tree?" Not that he minded walking, but he had to wonder if it wouldn't be safer as well as quicker to use magic – especially if they were going to run into more Sisters of the Dark.

Maybe it was too much magic to move both of them that far, because Shota frowned and he hoped he hadn't upset her. Witches who were upset were never fun to be around.

"I could," she said. "But I won't. A witch arrives exactly when and where she intends to be."

Suitably cryptic, he thought, as he used his handkerchief to clean off his face and hand. It reminded him of something…"I don't suppose you've ever heard of Gandalf the White?"

She shook her head. "Did he study at Aydindril?"

"I don't think so." Elijah hid a smile as he buttoned his jacket to hide the bloodstained shirt. "Am I presentable?"

She gazed at him a little longer than was necessary. "Very. Come."

Shota asked a few questions about vampires and Elijah divulged a few more details but kept his other weaknesses to himself until such time they became apparent – he hoped vervain didn't grow here. They didn't encounter any further enemies or distractions and made good time until sunset, when Shota found them another magical campsite. Once again they ate and then sat next to each other, nursing goblets of wine, and staring at the campfire.

"Is there someone waiting for you back home?" Shota asked.

Elijah considered. Klaus wasn't waiting for him. Rebekah…his family was important to him, but they were all so caught up in their own pettiness that he never felt that he was that important to them. Would they notice he was gone? Would they miss him? He had his doubts.

"No one special," he said at last.

Shota jumped on that. "What was her name?"

Elijah took a swallow of wine. "I'm not sure I understand."

"The one who was special. I can see you had someone like that once. I know, because, well…his name was Zeddicus," Shota said. "My soul mate. He was tall and beautiful and powerful and I fell in love. We could have been so formidable together. We could have accomplished anything. But he betrayed me, and broke my heart. I've had other lovers, but nothing compares to what we had. Now we're sometimes enemies and sometimes uneasy allies, and it give me both pain and pleasure that he still lives."

She expected him to confide in her in turn. Elijah considered for a moment, thought about everything Shota had done for him so far. Why not? "Katerina," he said, the name still a knife in his heart. "Her name was Katerina, at least when I met her, and I rue the day I ever laid eyes on her. She came between me and my brother, she betrayed me, and yet I have never been able to stop loving her."

"I knew you were a kindred spirit," Shota said softly. She leaned over and put one hand on his knee.

"Does it really not concern you, that I am a vampire?"

"I am a witch. We're both different underneath than our surface appearances suggest. Both older. Both more powerful." Shota's hand slid up his thigh. "I could look like her, if you describe her to me. Katerina."

Elijah placed one of his hands over hers, stopping its upward journey. "No. If I make love to you, it will be to you. I'm done pretending." He'd pretended before, had girls dress like Katerina, even wear wigs and affect her accent. He'd been stunned at the sight of Elena, every inch Katerina on the outside but completely the opposite on the inside. Perhaps that had been the final nail in the coffin of his love for Katerina; he didn't only want the outer appearance but the inner personality, and given how awful that personality was, what did that say about him? Enough was enough. He could never stop loving Katerina but he could stop pursuing her.

"Then you can? Make love?"

Elijah smiled. "Would you allow me to demonstrate?"

When Elijah woke up, Shota had a bowl of water on her lap and was staring into it morosely. When she caught him watching her she put the bowl aside and smoothed at her dress. "We should get going," she said.

"What's wrong, Shota?"

She shook her head. "I was scrying. But things are murky. I don't know what the future holds."

She'd say nothing more on the matter, and he gave up. She did present him with a shirt, something more in keeping with this world's fashion, from what he'd seen. It brought back memories of the past. He slipped it on, leaving behind his jacket, which seemed excessively incongruous with the blue tunic-style shirt.

They left the campsite and struck out for the Black Hills, now only a few miles away.

Despite the fact her clothes were very inappropriate for mountain climbing (and given the appearance of her coat the night before and his shirt this morning, why didn't she magic up something more practical, Elijah wondered), Shota easily led him to a wide plateau about half way up the mountain.

"Are we here?" Elijah asked when Shota sat down to rest on a nearby boulder.

"Yes. We just need to wait for a moment."

Elijah sat next to her. After a few minutes he heard the sound of someone else climbing the mountain. Several someones, if he wasn't mistaken. And…no, surely not. That petulant whining could only belong to Damon Salvatore.

A tall man appeared first, followed by a younger man with a sword, two women, and, yes, Damon.

"Shota!" The tall man stepped forward, angry. Damon stared at Elijah and he stood, a mocking smile on his lips.

"Damon," Elijah said. "Fancy meeting you here."