Chapter Three: The Dinner

The transition from the ballroom to the dining hall went smoothly. Palace knights dressed in proper attire helped guests to their tables and seats in an orderly fashion. Mr. Donovan personally escorted Elena to her seat, rushing her from the scene before she could wave a farewell to Bonnie on the other side of the room. She pretended to not notice as his hand, placed respectfully on her upper back, ventured a little more south and put a pressure on where it landed. Jeremy walked with Ms. Donovan, and they were stifling their laughs. Elena kept it in her mind, but she didn't like where her brother was heading. There was something about that girl that made her unsettled, not to mention the snobby attitude she had towards her only moments before.

The dining hall was as large as the room they had just come from. One giant chandelier hung from the center point of the ceiling. The walls were made of off white panels rimmed in royal gold. In the south wall, a stained glass painting of the royal palace was displayed romantically. There were seven tables in total. Two round tables, seating about eight people each, were closest to the painted window. The white table cloth on them was illuminated by the three sources of light shining on it: the chandelier, the moon from the window, and two tiny wax candles standing solo on either table. The other five were longer more rectangular and fitted about fifteen people each.

Elena looked around the hall for her seat. She was here only hours ago, cleaning the windows with an old rag and scrubbing the floors clean while her aged apron and clothes got dirty and wet. She smiled to herself. While she was getting ready for this event, Isobel had washed them and they were probably now hanging on a clothes' line at the moment. It was such a scene change. Especially now, as she finished skimming at all the name cards of the rectangular tables, where she expected to be seated, only to find her name was nowhere to be found. The round tables were for people of the Royal Circle. How could her seat be over there? Just as she thought about it, Jeremy called out to her, waving at her and point to a seat in the second round table.

She shuffled over to where Jeremy pointed, coming to the realization that Jeremy was of the Royal Circle. He was the soon to be Royal Adviser! How did that manage to slip her mind? At her table, she sat at the ninety degree point to the window, in the only chair that was back to back to another chair in the other round table. The Donovans also sat at the table, making Elena wonder of their connections, as well as Alaric, and four other people Elena wasn't introduced to. Jeremy and Mr. Donovan sat on either side of her, and Ms. Donovan sat next to her brother. A blonde woman sat next to her, and a brunette sat next to the blonde. A two men sat next to her, also a blonde and brunette.

The other round table sat the Royal Family. King Giuseppe sat at the 'head' of the circular table, the seat parallel to the window that faced the crowd. To either side of him were the Lord and Lady of Fell's Church, then the Salvatore Princes. Stefan sat next to Alexia and on the right of the king; Damon was opposing him completely, and back-to-back with Elena. This knowledge sent chills to her fingertips, though it also set her at ease. He had to turn a whole one hundred eighty degrees to see her, and even then it would be the back of her head. And it's not as if he wanted to see her; she was probably the only one that remembered the happenings of this morning. And if he did remember what happened, he wouldn't remember that it was her that the moment happened with. He couldn't recognize her; she was in such a beautiful corset dress now and was in old, dirty rags then. Wait… why was she overthinking this so much?

She took a deep, calming breath in and out as a waiter filled her wine glass with red wine and other servers placed a soup in front of everyone. Okay, now was the part where she stunned everyone (meaning herself) by her amazing table manners. Isobel stressed every night the importance of which fork and spoon and knife to use for what you're eating. For soup, Elena thought, you used the… wait a second. You use the… Damn it, was it happening already? The brain spasm you get from nervousness? Why was she so nervous anyway?

The prince is right behind you and you can't stop imagining his completely bare chest, and all the crazy things you want to do with it, a thought nagged in the back of her mind. At this, she choked on her own breath, however one does this, and started to cough. There was a patting on her back from Jeremy, and she heard Mr. Donovan question, "Are you alright, Ms. Elena?" She nodded, trying to calm her coughs by slowly sipping on her wine—the closest form of a drink to her. When she was settled and better, his face visibly softened as he said, "Good." Then he flashed her a smile. She smiled back, though she was aware that it couldn't have reached her eyes.

The tables of people then split off into their own tiny conversations as they enjoyed the courses of food as they were handed out and taken away by servers that gave Elena envious stares, for being their coworker and yet taking upon the occupation of a guest and not a servant for the night. She just bowed her head and stared at her food, taking tiny sips of her wine when she felt their stares burning the back of her head. She planned on remaining silent and shy for the rest of the dinner, and staring awkwardly and wishfully at the dance floor afterwards, but when Mr. Donovan kept including her in his conversations with other people around the table, she had a feeling that her plan wasn't going to work.

"So Miss Elena," said the brunette girl, who she found out to be named Katherine Pierce, "Do you draw?" Obviously, she did.

Elena shook her head. "No, Miss Pierce. I don't have the talent. Jeremy, here, is one of the best artists I've ever seen, though I may be a little biased." She laughed to herself, and Katherine only nodded, urging her to continue on. Not knowing what to say next, however, she rushed out, "But I love to read. And to write." It was true. Writing was one of her most favorite past-times, and she liked to think she was good at it. Isobel always stressed the importance of her studies, especially since she could make time for it, and she happened to enjoy writing a lot.

"Oh," Katherine said a little disappointed. Then she turned to Jeremy, "So, you draw?" From that, the two branched into their own little conversation, and Elena shook her head.

She felt a hand on hers, and she refrained from pulling it away, seeing as the hand belonged to Mr. Donovan, who was trying to bring her attention back to his. "So you write, Miss Elena?"

She nodded. "That is correct, Mr. Donovan. It's one of my most favorite things to do."

"Please, Miss Elena, call me Matt," he pleaded, with puppy dog blue eyes boring into her, as if he were performing some mind control on her.

She shook her head and laughed at the thought as well as at the hidden meaning of her reply: "I assure you, Mr. Donovan, that if you get to know who I am, that you'd be begging for me to do the opposite of what you are now."

"I'm not begging!" he laughed back, with a little edge in his voice. "And I'd like to." When Elena frowned and looked at him with curiosity, he elaborated. "I mean, I'd like to get to know who you are."

Elena felt a lump form in her throat, and she was afraid of coughing up a storm again from his little speech. He wanted to get to know me? She thought to herself. Me? Why me? She shook the thought away, and only smiled brightly at him. Forget Jeremy and 'Vicky' Donovan; she didn't like where things were headed with the guy sitting right next to her.

"So, Miss Gilbert," said a voice with an English accent. It came from the blonde haired man sitting next to Katherine, whom she learned to be named Niklaus Mikaelson. He liked to be called Klaus, though, and was the Lord of a large estate and many acres of land on the outside of the central boundaries of Mystic Falls, yet it was still within the lines to be part of their kingdom. His sister, Rebekah, was the blonde next to Katherine and his brother, Elijah, was the brunette man next to himself. Personally, Elena believed that he and Katherine had some shared affaires between them by the way he glanced at her on occasion and expected a certain reaction from her during their conversations. "You say that you write. What is it you write?"

"I keep a journal, and document a few entries a couple times a week. That's mainly it, but I fill the void with reading." Everyone in the table seemed to have their attention on her now. "I'm very much enjoying the romanticism in the art and literature of the modern culture. Do you not agree?"

"I do," Klaus acknowledged. "I, myself, enjoy painting. Kat, here, loves to draw. Mainly portraits of herself." To this, the table laughed. "And portraits of others. The cameo around her neck was her own. And from what I can hear, you, Jeremy, are an artist too. I think we can all agree with what you saw." There were nods around the table. For some reason, this calmed Elena, knowing that these people from a normally different class, accept her at least a tiny bit. She was starting to feel a little left out.

The clinking of a utensil to a wine glass from the main table had our table in silence within seconds, which caused a chain reaction to the other five tables. Heads turned towards the direction of the King. "Before we pass out the dessert," King Giuseppe began, "I'd personally like to welcome each and every one of you tonight. I believe this is a little late, but I'd also like to congratulate my son and heir for this moment. My boy becomes a man!" He smiled.

Then Prince Damon stood up. But, sitting right behind him, Elena couldn't see his face and was greeted with another part of his body that would've had that nagging thought in the back of her mind on overload when she turned around. Tonight, she was getting and giving a lot of attention to and from the male gender and Elena found that she was pretty awkward when it came to them. She pressed her raspberry lips into a fine line and her right palm to her forehead. She rested her elbow at the head of the back of her chair, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in.

The prince luckily moved out of the way and occupied the space behind and in between the two circular tables. He had a glass of wine in his hand as he spoke, "I'd like to thank everyone here for coming to day and for honoring myself and my family. I'd like to thank my cousins Zachariah, Joseph, and Lexi for their amazing presentation earlier this evening that I'll be sure to take to heart." To this, the crowd of people laughed. "And I'd personally like to welcome childhood and family friends of my brother and I and special guests of the evening, Sir Matthew Donovan and his sister, Victoria Donovan, the children of Nobile Peter Donovan." People clapped their hands as Mr. Donovan stood up from his seat, resting a hand on Elena's shoulder (making her slightly uncomfortable), but she was too busy noticing the way Damon winked at Vicky Donovan to flinch. Wait…why would he do that? Unless…

No way! Ms. Victoria Donovan was the woman in the prince's bed! That's why she looked so familiar! Elena tried to not let her eyes showcase her discovery, but it was kind of hard.

Mr. Donovan gave Damon a man-hug, as well as one to Stefan when he got up from his seat. "For those who don't know," Damon continued, "Matt and Vicky moved away to France for education, and he came just for this occasion. I really want to thank him for that." His icy blue eyes hovered over the population in the room to see the content look on their faces as they applauded and Mr. Donovan bowed. They stopped when he caught sight of her, and Elena felt a tidbit of unease as he scanned over her much like a person would a statue or a painting. He squinted his eyes for a second, holding her brown ones in a tight grasp, before letting them relax and letting a smirk take up his lips.

The King stood up again and spoke, "Thank you, son, for that wonderful speech." His attempts to hide his sarcasm failed. "Now, everyone, enjoy yourselves as we pass out the dessert! Afterwards, we shall return to the room and clear the floor for a sciortis!" As if on cue, carts full of plates on trays were rolled out as the king sat down. Something made of chocolate was then placed in front of them. Yum!

As promised by both Zachariah and the king, the dance floor was cleared right after dinner and music started to play for a sciortis. It was a quick styled Italian version of the Schottische dance and had partners jumping and trotting open handedly on the dance floor with smiles on their faces. Elena stood on the sidelines, glaring enviously at the flowing movements the ladies' skirts and the graceful steps of both partners. She sighed, resting back and head on the palace walls. She wanted to be asked to dance and to join the crowd of happy people. She didn't think that it would matter who asked her. Jeremy had asked Vicky, and Elijah, the brown haired man that sat next to his brother, Klaus, had asked Katherine. They were flowing across the room as if they were flying.

She took a sip of a new glass of wine. She was drinking little amount, though she knew that overall she was drinking a lot. She didn't drink often. How could she even find time for it? But the wine was relaxing her, making her less nervous with every sip.

"You look bored," a voice to her side said, and she saw whoever it was rest their back on the wall next to her.

"No," she denied, though it was lie, "however, I am a little tired."

"So, would it be a waste if I asked you to dance, with your fatigue and all?" the voice asked. Elena turned her head and gasped. Golden hair and green eyes stared at her.

"Prince Stefan," she said, "it would be a lie if I said that I wasn't surprised. But I am."

"So, is that a yes or a no?"

"Who am I to deny a prince?" she said under her breath, too low for him to hear most likely. He continued to wait for an answer, so she said a tiny bit louder, "Of course, Your Highness." Stefan bowed as she curtsied and held out a hand with a smile on his face, though the arrogance Elena had felt earlier this morning still lingered inches away from him.

"I didn't catch your name," he said a few seconds into the dance. "But you're a Gilbert, correct? Family with my friend, Jeremy?"

"That is correct. Elena Gilbert," she replied during the next couple moves, a chasse followed by more allegro movements.

"Elena," it rolled off his tongue as he passed around Elena, so that it hit her ear like a lingering whisper that sent chills up and down her spine. "And you live in the Gilbert Estate?"

Elena nodded, though it could've been easily mistaken for the bowing of her head that was to take place then. "Also correct," she clarified.

"You're so formal," Stefan decided, stopping in the middle of the dance floor, causing her to stop and everyone else to fix their paths, much to their own dismay.

"Forgive me, I don't have the pleasure of talking to a prince every day," she explained, staring at her feet.

"Well, let me be the one to tell you that not all of us are as scary as my father," he joked, to which Elena laughed.

There was a cough, and both the prince and Elena turned over their shoulders. Matt Donovan stood, looking brood and 'manly' and staring at them with a tiny dose of patience. "Matt, my good friend," Prince Stefan greeted.

"Mind if I cut in?" Matthew asked.

The prince covered his mouth with his hand, trying to block the sound before it reached Elena, though it didn't work. "I'm kind of with a lady, here, Matt," Stefan jokingly said. "But I guess I can ditch her for you."

Mr. Donovan's face was stunned, as was Elena's, but she hid her shock by laughing. "I…er…," he struggled to reply. "That's not what I meant, Your Highness."

Stefan's mouth made an 'O' shape. "I see," he sighed. "Well, another time, I guess," he smiled. "But it's not up to me to decide what you ask for. Elena?"

"I guess it wouldn't hurt," Elena joked, smiling warmly at Matthew. As if on cue, the music for the sciortis died down, and as Mr. Donovan took her hand in his, the slow rhythm and harmonic melody of a violin played solo from the quintet. More couples piled in on the dance floor for a closed-handed waltz. One of his hands rested on her waist, while the other took her hand and held it at the halfway point between the heights of their eyes. Just as her hand rested on his shoulder, all partners began to sway and glide at equal paces and with similar sized steps.

She ignored the hungry look in his faint blue eyes and the way they always ended up staring at a certain spot on her neck. She honestly wasn't used to this look, and it didn't exactly 'disturb' her, only made her instincts come alive and become sharper. When she did catch him staring, she would turn her head the other way, hiding that spot and causing him to avert his eyes. But when they turned to the more exposed part of her chest, Elena just about it inside.

She broke the silence in the weak bubble around them and said, "So, Matt, are you from Mystic Falls?" The information she got from Prince Damon at Dinner and the information she got from Jeremy, Vicky, and himself sort of clashed together and confused her. Did he go to France or just across the country? How did he know the Salvatore princes so well? Though she wondered, she didn't voice them just yet.

"Yes, I am. I was born and raised here until the age of sixteen, when my father, Nobile Peter Donovan, passed away. My mother shipped Vick and me to an old family estate on the far side of the country. At eighteen, I left to study at a school in France. My sister, who was twenty at the time, came with me. We recently moved back to that Estate, which is where we currently reside. However, coming back here I find that I miss home terribly and if I go, there will be other things that I'll miss." By the look Mr. Donovan was giving her, she knew exactly what he was talking about. "Elena…" he breathed through his teeth, stopping their dance in its path. She had enough momentum to fall over, but his grip on her waist and hand were too tight to let her do such a thing.

When Matthew Donovan leaned forward, Elena didn't know what to do. Stop it? Let him do it? She'd never kissed a guy before, and she didn't want to right now. Would stopping it be rude to his title? Would letting him do it ruin what little to nonexistent reputation she had. What would happen to Jeremy? These questions raced through her mind, and she had a feeling that the questions in her mind before wouldn't be answered.

What happened next was the most surprising thing that could've possibly occurred at that very moment. A cough; who would've thought that it would be a cough that saved her life? This cough made Matthew stop in his tracks, and both turned their heads over their shoulders as Elena and Stefan had done when Matt had interrupted them. There, Elena gaped at icy blue eyes and raven black hair, and there was a silhouetted voice that ringed in her head.

"Do you mind if I cut in?"

A/N: Thank you guys so much for commenting and following this story! I have so much in store for Damon and Elena. For those of you familiar to the story Tess of the D'Urbervilles I am roughly basing this story off of that. Obviously, it's going to be different, but it just gives some of you a guess.

I'd like to give a shout-out to my best friend, Allison, for liking this story. Even though its her obligation as my best friend to like it. o.O Okay, if I think anymore into this, I'll get depressed.

Random Rant Over. Love you guys!

~KSM