100 reviews! Woot woot!
Thank you to all who reviewed last chapter. I was extremely happy :) You know what? Thank you to all who have reviewed since chapter one – WFL would've never gotten this far without you.
WFL will be getting a trailer on YouTube, thanks to wwlilcraz101. I'll post the link when it's finished.
I'm very, VERY satisfied with this chapter, and I hope you are, too. It was so much fun to write, so please – enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries – it belongs to Julie Plec (amazing woman) and L. J. Smith (another amazing woman). I don't own Justin Bieber, either. It's unconstitutional.
"Who is Greta?" I asked as he buttoned me back up.
"Gloria's sister." I pulled a blank face, and he added, "My witch Katerina killed."
"What is she doing here?"
He finished up the last button and placed a kiss on my nose. "I'm hoping she can help us find a spell."
"What kind of spell?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Maybe something to figure out what Stefan's plans are."
"How can you be so sure it's Stefan doing this?"
"Because Stefan has reason to," he said quietly. He patted my knee and began to get up. "We should get down stairs."
"No," I whined, pulling him to me again. He gave in and kissed me softly, but it was over much too soon for my liking. I puffed my bottom lip out petulantly and he bit it softly.
"You don't know how long I've wanted to that," he whispered, before grabbing my hand and pulling me off the bed.
I crossed my arms and huffed. "Fine. Let me just brush my hair."
He nodded and I walked into the bathroom, shuffling through the drawers for my comb. He followed me in and sat on a chair by the door, watching me silently. When I found my brush, I raked it through my chocolate tresses a few times, then leaned over and flipped my hair back. It fell in limp curls along my back and around my chest. When I looked to Klaus for approval, he licked his lips and stared at me with bedroom eyes.
"You look exquisite, Lena."
I smirked and sashayed over to the full length mirror to check my appearance. I heard his sharp intake of air and smirked proudly. It was extremely satisfying knowing that I had such an effect on him.
"Lena."
"Hmm?"
"Do that again and I'll bend you over the counter and have my wicked way with you," he said darkly. I looked over my shoulder at him, into his bedroom eyes, and shivered.
"I'll hold you to that," I whispered seductively. He narrowed his eyes and his lips parted in the sexiest way. "But right now, we need to see the witch."
He grumbled something about bloody witches being immoral, and I chuckled. He was being so…normal. I could almost imagine he was human.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my room and downstairs. He led me down the hallway where the dining room was, and into a sitting room. It was the same room that Klaus and I had talked in my first night here – when we almost kissed. I blushed and he winked at me. The fire was blazing, and an old woman, around the age of sixty, was sipping hot tea out of china. She appeared wise beyond her years, as if she were a lot older than looks revealed, and she was staring at the fire intently. Her head whipped to us when we sat down on the loveseat to the left of her, and smiled.
"Niklaus," she said in greeting.
He smiled briefly. "Greta." He then gestured toward me beside him. "I would like you to meet Elena Gilbert. Lena, this is Greta."
I offered my hand and she took it in both of hers, closing her eyes and leaning her head against them. Klaus gave me a reassuring smile when I looked to him, startled. A moment later, she released me, and acted as if nothing odd had happened.
"The doppelgänger. It's a pleasure to meet you," she said warmly.
I didn't have time to say anything back before she turned to Klaus and began to speak. "What is it you need me for?"
"Someone has been killing my hybrids," he began. "We believe it's an old friend of Elena's, seeing as he has reason to want revenge against me. We were hoping you would be able to help us."
"If you already know who he is and why he's doing it, then my assistance is not needed."
"We were hoping that you would be able to do something. Anything."
She tapped her chin. "What could I possibly do?"
"Help us get into his head, to figure out his next move. Or track his location so that he may be dealt with."
She shook her head. "I'm afraid those are not my specialties, Klaus. I cannot help you."
"Please. Something, anything. Whatever you can do, please." I had never heard him beg before – I didn't think he had it in him. I didn't like it one bit. Why is he so desperate for her help?
"There is nothing I can do."
"A protection spell, at least."
She quirked an eyebrow. "You want me to perform a protection spell on you?"
"Not on me," he said. "On her."
Both of our brows shot to our hairline. "You want me to charm her?" She asked incredulously.
He nodded his head, dead serious. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I was too stunned to articulate a full sentence. Did Klaus really care about me that much? My heart skipped a beat at the thought. Klaus, the man I was falling in love with, actually cared enough about me to charm me with a protection spell. I could've squealed like a Justin Bieber fan girl.
He's only saying that because he needs your blood.
The thought was unpleasant, but logical. I was essential to making his hybrids, and if I was gone, then there was no way for him to regain what he had lost.
"That I can do," Greta said, snapping me out of my thoughts. Klaus gave her a million-dollar smile and shook her hand in that weird way of hers. "When would you like me to do it?"
"As soon as possible."
She nodded. "You're in luck. I have a grimoire in the trunk of my car that might contain the protection spell."
He clasped my hand in his and brought it to his lips for a loud kiss, grinning like a relieved fool. "Excellent."
….
"Leave us, Niklaus."
He didn't look happy about that, and hesitated by the door. A gust of wind manifested in the air, ruffling my hair and opening the door wider. He smirked at her and made his way out, closing the door behind it. She waved her hand and the lock clicked. We chuckled when we heard Klaus swear and stomp off, annoyed.
"Now that he's gone, let's get down to business," she said cheerily, opening her bag. She set down her grimoire down, opening the worn cover to a yellow page, filled with odd sketches and calligraphic handwriting in Latin. She shuffled through the satchel and pulled out little amber bottles filled with dark liquids and granules, each labeled in –surprise – Latin.
Finally, she took out an object wrapped in a royal purple and placed it beside her. She saw me eyeing it and answered, "That's for later."
She uncorked one of the bottles and poured salt into her hand, sprinkling it in a circle on the floor around us. She then whispered something that sounded like, "Ignis," and the purple candle in between us lit on its own. The spell book slid toward her on its own and she clasped my hands.
"Is there any way we can do this in English?" I asked, uncomfortable. For some reason, I didn't really trust this witch.
Her eyes crinkled with sympathy. "I know it's a little creepy, but that's just the way it is." She closed her eyes and, after a few deep breaths began the ritual.
"Maiorum nostrorum virtus adimplébis me legatum. Da mihi virtutem spiritus. Sit nostra protectione generis donum." She released my hands and grabbed the bottle filled with dark liquid. She coated her fingers and painted a circle with three sharp ovals in three different directions on my left palm. On my right, she painted three spirals connected at their centers. She held the backs of my hands so that they stayed palm up.
"Patres signa potestatis vestrae protectionis robur." She pulled her hands back and picked up the object. Unwrapping gingerly, she revealed a glinting dagger with an ornate hilt. She uncorked yet another bottle of liquid and covered the blade with it, before turning to me again. When she brought the dagger closer to me, I pulled back – no way in hell was she going to get that thing near me - but she grabbed my hands and pulled them forward – I'm sure she would've said something to reassure me, but an interruption like that would sever the connection.
"Sanguine erit signum." With that, she brought the blade to my left palm and carved into my skin, tracing the symbol. I hissed at the stinging but kept still. If I moved it would only hurt worse. She finished and moved to my right palm, repeating the process. When she finished, she covered the dagger in the cloth again and recorked the bottles, shoving them back in her leather bag. She grabbed my hands once more.
"Slán agus beannacht leat."
There was a split second when the words rang with finality and seemed to echo through the air. And then an excruciating, burning sensation rose in my palms. It grew and intensified, until it was unbearable, and my head began to pound, a rushing sound filling my ears. I screamed in agony – I couldn't hold it in any longer. A moment later, the door burst open and Klaus blurred in. He crouched in front of me and pushed Greta away, quite forcefully. She cowered in confusion and fear – I didn't blame her for being scared. Klaus was shaking in rage.
"What did you do to her?" He roared.
She cringed and stuttered, "I-I performed the r-ritual."
"Then why did she scream?"
"Because s-she's in p-pain."
"Why is she in pain?" He snarled. He was losing what little patience he had.
Greta's eyebrows knit. "I thought you knew that it would be painful."
"How am I supposed to know when you don't tell me?" He was going to snap at any minute. She didn't know what to say to that, and he took a deep, calming breath. "I think you should go."
She grabbed her things and flew to the door, but stopped before she left. Was she stupid? "The pain will fade in a matter of minutes."
"Go," he ordered darkly, and she bolted out the door. He took a few more of those calming breaths, then turned to me. His eyes softened and he looked...anguished. His fingers grazed my cheek. "Are you alright?"
I nodded subtly. The burning had lessened to an ache, and my pounding head was reduced a dull throb. "I'm fine," I croaked.
He leaned his forehead against mine. "I'm so sorry, Lena," he whispered. "I had no idea-"
"Klaus."
"-I never knew it was painful-"
"Klaus?"
"-Neither Gloria nor Greta had told me-"
"Klaus!"
He stopped and looked into my eyes. I took his face in my hands, ignoring the sting, and pecked his lips lightly. "It's okay."
He shook his head but didn't argue, and lifted me into his arms. We blurred through the house – I focused on his lips to keep the nausea at bay – and into a random bedroom. The walls were in browns and beiges, and the bed was large, with a jade green comforter. Two doors on the other side of room indicated a closet and a bathroom, most likely identical to mine. A large plasma TV hung on the wall opposite the bed.
"This is my room," Klaus said quietly from behind me.
I nodded my head calmly, but inside, I was freaking. Holy shit, you're in his room! My inner me fist-pumped the air and did cartwheels all around the room.
"I wanted you to get some rest, but I still want to be able to check on you."
"Okay," I whispered. He pulled back the comforter and flat sheet, and I slid in. He tucked me in and planted a small kiss on my forehead.
"Sleep."
I closed my eyes and tried – really, I did – but sleep wouldn't come. He seemed to realize this and laid down beside me, over the covers. He played with my hair and began to sing softly.
"Hush, child, the darkness will rise from the deep
And carry you down into sleep."
I vaguely remembered the lyrics from somewhere, but I was out like a light before I could figure out where.
….
I woke to a beautiful melody floating through the room. I rubbed my eyes and sat up groggily, surveying my surroundings. Klaus was gone. I looked to my left and saw a door ajar, where the music was coming from. I rolled off the bed and tip-toed over, pushing lightly on the door. There was a black grand piano in the center of the room, but that wasn't the source.
Moonlight flooded the room through a big bay window, and Klaus sat at the window seat. His eyes were closed and his fingers pressed on the finger board exactly where they should've gone, the friction of the bow sliding across the string creating a sturdy, humble note. Klaus never struck as the musical type, especially not a violinist, but here he was, playing with such ease and confidence. He had been doing this for a while.
I leaned against the doorway and watched him, mesmerized. He must've sensed my presence, because he stopped playing and looked over to me. Our eyes locked, and the way the moonlight reflected off of his blue eyes made my breath hitch.
"Did I wake you?" He asked quietly.
I shook my head. "I don't mind. You play beautifully."
He shrugged and began to put the instrument away. When he zipped up the case and set it at his feet, he looked up. "You should go back to bed."
"I don't want to sleep."
His eyes widened and his lips parted. But a moment later, his eyes emptied. "Go to sleep, Elena."
My nose scrunched at his use of my full name. I walked over to him - noting how he tensed as I drew nearer – and grabbed his face. "Don't do this."
"Do what?"
"You know what. Push me away."
He turned his face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
I made him look at me. "Yes, you do. Please, Klaus. Don't do this to me."
He looked at me with such sadness – it broke my heart. "I don't deserve you, Lena," he breathed.
My jaw dropped. "Yes, you do."
He laughed humorlessly. "I've spent a thousand years killing for my own sadistic pleasure, Lena. I tried to kill your brother. I did kill your aunt. I don't deserve an angel like you," he said, voice thick with unshed tears.
My eyes flooded and I blinked rapidly. "You deserve to be loved, Klaus. That's what I'm here for – to be your angel."
He looked at me with awe ad reverence. "Mine," he murmured.
"Now, c'mon," I said, taking his hand and pulling me up. He gave me a confused look.
"It's time for bed," I whispered lustfully.
Is it the time you have all been waiting for? Is it time for KlausxElena yummy smutty-ness? You'll have to wait and see :)
Please, review! I'm very proud of this chapter, so I'm anxious to see what you all think. Constructive criticism is welcome, as are suggestions. No guarantee I'll use them, but I may put them in another story (with your permission, of course).
Now get to reviewing!
Colbey
