"I wish to speak with the young one alone." Órfhlaith inclined her head towards Elena.
Órfhlaith was a banshee. She hovered over the lake, her face hooded, a silver, wispy gossamer flowing around her like she was on fire.
Something within Elena stirred. Slowly the doppelgänger crossed the distance between them, glancing back towards Charlotte, Jasmine and Duncan as she approached Órfhlaith. Elena had never met a banshee before. In fact she wasn't even aware that they existed.
As if sensing her thoughts, Órfhlaith laughed. It was a song that echoed within her ears. The mist shifted abruptly like a whooshing sound like a hawk taking flight beside her head. "Werewolves, vampires and witches are not the only supernatural species. There are many more. Being a 'doppelgänger', you should know this."
"Why do you want to speak to me?" Elena queried. Remembering Charlotte's warning, she kept her gaze low and stared at the congregation of dying leaves at her feet.
Órfhlaith seemed to swim through the air around her. She landed there; Elena caught a glimpse of bony hands and stretched, wrinkled skin. Órfhlaith seemed to be an old woman, a ghost with no fixed form, yet somehow Elena felt a prickling sensation on her skin as the glowing outline brushed against her forearm.
"Charlotte's words rung true. Ordinarily, you should not stare a banshee in the eyes. But you need not worry. Your blood protects you."
Elena looked up, shaking slightly. Órfhlaith was cold. Her body was so cold and tainted and dead. It was eerie; her eyes were glowing, she was a white outline, each shadow was a ripple of energy over her body. She was an old woman who would have had white hair, very pale skin and, for some reason, Elena assumed she would have green eyes. Her voice was old, creaky, but echoed deep within the recesses of her mind.
"Why?" She asked. "Why me? How do you know what I am? No, what am I?"
"Oh you poor thing, you've not awakened yet... Let us start with what I am." Órfhlaith suggested, and smiled sweetly. "You did hear Charlotte, didn't you? I am a banshee. However, a banshee is just another name." Órfhlaith coaxed her 'clothing' closer around herself, as if to protect herself from the wind. "A Fallen Angel, or a Weeping Angel. That is what I am. And you, dear child, are not so different from me."
Elena squinted at the elderly woman. "What? I'm not so different to you. What does that mean? I'm... Some sort of... ghost?"
"No, dear. Not a ghost. You are an angel." Órfhlaith declared. "But you have not yet discovered your wings... Oh, they will be angry, they will. Not at you. At me, for telling you this." Elena tilted her head and stepped towards the hovering banshee. "We are not meant to interfere, but I never have been good at keeping to their rules. That's why I ended up Falling."
"Falling?"
"Yes, yes. I got into trouble with the Celestial Court, and they clipped my Wings. Angels have wings, you see. For flying. I didn't do anything bad. Let me see my family, I said. Not talk, just fly overhead, I said. They got angry. Clipped my wings, watched me Fall, and then deemed me one of the banshee."
"What's the difference between banshee and angels?"
"Angels use their wings for healing and for other things; our blood can heal so many injuries that a vampire cannot, but it is so very addictive. Banshee's wings are damaged; rather than heal, if we use them they will cause harm, and that leads people to think we are servants of the Lunar Court – that we are... swayed into dark deeds. Well, some of us are, but not all. But clipping our wings changes our abilities. Like witches, angels are meant to help keep the balance of nature, but without directly interfering. Banshees lose that ability and gain one to cause imbalance of nature, and we can directly interfere because there are technically no rules. No morals. That's how I've been able to manipulate the area around this forest; I make it so that the werewolves in the forest can change at will."
"So you... Got kicked out of the 'Celestial Court'...? What's that?"
"Angels. Angels who are powerful enough and deemed pure. Oh, but nothing is sacred any more. They are as poisoned to Power as the Lunar Court. They just refuse to acknowledge it." Órfhlaith paused. "I shouldn't be telling you this. Oh, they will be angry, they will."
"So I'm... Some sort of angel...?" Elena watched as Órfhlaith flew around and around. It was beginning to make her dizzy. "Can you stop that?"
What was that about her blood? It was so very addictive. That was what Órfhlaith had said. Did that mean... That Stefan was hooked on her blood? Because she was an angel?
"What do you mean that my blood is addictive?"
"Angel blood is pure, filled with Power." Órfhlaith stopped her 'pacing' and settled in front of Elena again. "It can heal injuries unseen and quell angry hearts. It is like a drug. Sometimes it helps, but it is dangerous. If you drink it enough times, in large quantities... It can cause even the most decent of men to resort to trickery."
Elena was beginning to wonder if Stefan was under the influence of her blood. Though this was all coming to a shock to her, she was desperate to explain his behaviour. Maybe it wasn't his fault. Maybe it was hers!
"How many times would you need to drink it?" Elena asked eagerly, dark eyes wide.
"Oh, it depends on how much you drink each time." Órfhlaith hummed. She snatched some dead leaves off of the ground and blew them on a weak gust of wind, swirling around Elena, stirring her hair. "It's not just the amount though. It's how often its drunk too. You don't just get addicted. You need to drink it and keep drinking it to be addicted."
Stefan had drunk her blood before, a long time ago. Back then he hadn't done it even after the first time; she couldn't remember him drinking her blood then. It had been after Klaus appeared. That was when it started. That compulsion in the gym... That had been a ruse. A chance for Klaus to get his work out in the open.
"He'd been compelled long before that," whispered Elena to herself. Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe it was his vampire side coming out. "Am I protecting him?"
Órfhlaith cocked her head at the question. "You are troubled."
"Someone has been stealing... Stealing my blood..." Elena gnawed at her lip. "And making me forget..."
"I know, love. Your heart is weeping." Órfhlaith clasped her hand and raised it. "Sometimes those we care most about blind us, and we miss some things – dangerous things – that we should have noticed before."
"I thought I knew him. I honestly thought I knew him. I thought I loved him..."
Órfhlaith shrugged but smiled. "It seems to me like you're hanging on to him because he was your first true catch. And there's nothing wrong with that, believe me. It happened to me once, when I still had my Wings. But I caught my other in the arms of someone else; no reason, no explanation. It just happened."
"What did you do?"
"After a while, I accepted it. It hurt, obviously. But what could I do? He was happy. I found someone better. Someone I could trust. I lived a long and happy life. When I was older, I found out about my Powers. I died in Ireland and Flew, but then I Fell again here trying to find him." Órfhlaith smiled proudly. "And a fine one he was. I wouldn't change him for the world."
"...What was his name?" Elena asked gently.
Órfhlaith's gaze softened. "His name was Alasdair." She said.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ x ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
"We won the race and recruited some cheerleaders!" Kol announced, bursting through the double doors leading to the den of the Dublin house. He flopped onto the couch, kicking his feet onto the armrest. "Go, team go!"
"It's not going to be the same here without Philip." Duncan sounded wistful. Dark almond-shaped eyes scanned over the luxury furniture in the room. Sighing, he settled himself onto a chair. "I miss them."
"They'll be back." Rebekah picked up a glass and poured herself some blood-laced whisky. "Don't you worry about them. Kol! Get your feet off of the sofa."
Kol lifted them briefly, wagged them in mid air and put them back down again. "Nope."
"I'm going for a shower." Elena murmured distractedly. She put down her bag, unravelled her scarf from her neck and scaled the wooden stairs.
"Don't take too long," Rebekah called up to her as she left. "I want one as well."
Arrow was silent. Staring straight past them all, out towards the balcony, he donned his brown leather overcoat and draped it over one of the arm chairs. Three weeks of travelling; there was one left for the others out in the field, and he was starting to become worried. What if they went overtime? What if something happened?
"They should be in Australia by now," he murmured to himself, rubbing his thumbnail against his lip. He briefly nibbled on the tip and then squinted in concentration.
Arrow really wished that this part of the journey was over. He wanted to be with his loved ones again. He wanted to see Alex, his fiancé. The engagement ring on his finger had reminded him of his love every time he flexed his hand, every time he picked something up or pushed his hands into his pockets – a habit that he had fallen into.
"I'm crashing the wedding." Kol swung himself onto the banister overlooking the ocean. He kicked his ruined shoes over the edge, watching them fall to their end. "When is it?"
Arrow laughed. "You expect me to tell you when you plan on crashing it?" He shook his head. "Not for some time, I'm afraid."
"Inconvenience courtesy of Niklaus, my pain in the ass half-brother." Kol swept his arm out in a mocking, gentlemanly way. "No man, woman or child is safe." There was a pause. "You're not part of the God Squad, are you? If you are, I'm still crashing your wedding. But with a shotgun."
"No, I'm not. But my fiancé has always been in favour of tradition." Arrow chuckled and shook his head. Curtains of gold danced with his movement. "Ironic. I broke away from it a long time ago. But I do like this little gem on my finger. It's quite charming. And it wards away other people who think I'm available."
"Ooh, watch out! We have a bad-ass over here." Kol swung onto the other side, hanging over a deadly precipice, and peered up at the other vampire. "Someone like you, come on man! You're sexy. And I don't make that comment freely. Just because I like you, 'kay? And don't tell my sister. She'll think I'm gay. Again. But you could get anyone you wanted!"
"So I've been told." Arrow pushed Kol's forehead back with a finger. "You're lucky, you know. I was tempted to let you squirm when Duncan pulled that stunt back in Russia. I only helped you out because of pity."
"Pity!" Kol exclaimed disbelievingly. Batting his hand away, the original peered around at the warlock, who was sleeping on the chair in the den. "And he did, didn't he? I'm gonna get him back for that. Move."
Arrow was shoved out of the way. Kol vanished in a blur but he could hear him doing something upstairs, messing with something, laughing manically.
"Maybe I should convert," he mumbled to himself. "I'll need all the help I can get with this one."
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ x ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Damon kicked his foot against the wreckage of the old ship.
Elijah, clad in diving gear but with no breathing mask or oxygen tank, angled towards the sudden, distorted groan of the rusted metal. He jerked his head inquisitively.
"Is this it?" Damon mouthed silently. Elijah's pinpoint eyes locked onto his mouth and then to his hand as he lifted something up.
Elijah shone the torch on the object in Damon's hand. It was a safe with a lock that was rusted. The raven-haired vampire took his torch in his mouth, steadied the safe against his stomach and ripped the door from its damaged hinges. Papers, a jewel necklace, even a handbag was contained. Elijah shook his head. Damon shrugged, shoved the necklace into the bag and tied it around his belt. At Elijah's surprised look, he shrugged again, smirking slightly.
Disrespectful, perhaps. But nobody was using it, and they wouldn't want their precious things to rot for the rest of eternity.
Elijah's tongue blocked the water from flooding into his chest. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, pressed it against the top of his mouth to push the water out and shut it again to keep it out. With that done, he swam deeper into the old boat wreckage.
They were at Bondi Beach in Sydney, though quite far away from the shore. They'd been searching for an hour with no luck. Elijah's not-beating heart was starting to grow anxious, and not just because they hadn't found the last item.
Part of him didn't want to find it. It was something deeply ingrained into his subconscious, nagging at him whenever he dreamed, gnawing at him whenever he woke. If they were to end Klaus's reign of tyranny, they had to channel the power of the lunar eclipse, so they needed an object that was connected the the lunar cycle by the magic of witches.
Suddenly he heard a strangled cry from Damon. He shot out of the ship and looked for his companion, and winced as a flash light glared at him. Damon was heading towards him, his eyes wide, pointing to something behind him.
Elijah tensed, expecting the worst – maybe an activated explosive, or they'd been found out by hybrids and they'd have to fight. What he didn't expect was a shark to swim close and stretch its jaws.
Damon let out an unmanly underwater squeal. Elijah hung his head shamefully. "It's a god damn shark, not the Kraken." He mouthed, motioning to the Grey Nurse. "This species isn't even aggressive!"
"IT'S A SHARK." Damon argued. "YOU'VE OBVIOUSLY NEVER BEEN BITTEN BY ONE!"
"As a matter of fact I have. Surfing has its risks. Have you?" Elijah asked, accompanying his silent conversation with a hand gesture.
Damon blanched.
"Then why did you say you'd dive into shark infested waters and get me one of their teeth, when I asked if you trusted me?"
"IT WAS A FIGURE OF SPEECH."
Elijah face-palmed. Circling around the boat curiously for a moment, the shark disappeared and reappeared a few moments later with a dolphin in tow. Now that Bottle-nose Dolphin he would recognise anywhere.
"Atlantis!" He grinned. Atlantis rammed into him, letting out cheeps of joy and nuzzling his stomach, swimming around and around the two. Elijah clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
Atlantis whistled. The series of noises he let out made it sound as if he were trying to explain something, but it soon became clear what the grey creature was doing. He was using sonar to detect things within the corpse of the abandoned ship.
"Hold on," Elijah pointed towards Thalassa. Damon stared at him as if he were insane. "She's not going to bite you. It's Caroline."
"How do you know that?"
"Can you hear a heartbeat?"
