Pieces
Mystic Falls, Virginia, 1864
With the moon hanging in the sky above him, Damon stepped along the familiar road that led to Astra's home. In the past, he would have imagined that he could only hear the sounds of his boots crunching the stones and sand beneath him, but now he could hear the sounds of the forest all around him. He could hear people talking from all around, understand their words and listen in on their conversations without even concentrating. It was all so overwhelming.
And he didn't even have Katherine to go to so that he could ask her what to do. She could have been there, she would have been there, if it wasn't for what his father had done. He still burned at the thought of what had happened to Katherine, and what had happened with Astra as well. First he had lost his fiancé, and then he lost his lover. All in the same day.
If he could help it, he would at least get one of them back.
However, as he stepped up to the drive leaving to Astra's front door, he was stopped cold at the abandoned look of the house. The horse and carriage was gone, the lights were all off and there were boards over the doors and windows. Not a sound could be heard from inside and Damon's heart fell to the ground beneath his feet.
"Astra," he whispered aloud, beginning to step forward again. It was as though he expected her to come around the side of the house, smiling like she used to and greet him with open arms as a kiss. Instead, he just imagined her walking away from him, crying, as she told him she loved him but could not stay. Before he realized, he had raced up onto the porch of her house and ripped off the wooden boards that blocked the doorway. They nails had ruined the beautifully designed boarders, but he didn't care for that.
Wrenching open the thick entrance doors, he tried to step inside.
It was as though something was pushing against him, blocking any way of him getting inside. An invisible field that pushed him back away from her home, away from his only chance of finding her. He didn't know where she could have gone, there was no way for him to locate her if he couldn't get in that house. Where did she say her uncle lived? She didn't say; she hardly ever spoke of her family to him. He didn't know where she would go.
"Astra!" he screamed in anguish, trying to push forward but still forced backward with every step. The furniture that he could see was draped in white to protect from dust, the shelves and surfaces cleared of everything that she had once had placed out for decoration or use. Her books were gone, her paintings and portraits; everything was barren and empty now. Cold. It filled him with a broken feeling and the sensation of being pushed into a frozen lake.
"She's gone," a voice said from inside. Damon's head snapped up at the sound, his hands moving to the doorframe to take purchase to hold himself up. Annabel stood in the center of the front foyer, looking tired and upset. He knew that Astra was very fond of the young woman, in a way that was almost sisterly. Annabel looked older than he had ever seen in that moment, stress weighing her down and seemingly to steal the very youth from her flesh and bones.
"Annabel," he gasped out, smiling with tears in his eyes. She looked away from him, unable to stare into his broken complexion. It was his fault, everything was his fault. Astra would still be there, well and happy, if it wasn't for that foolish man. "Annabel, please, where has she gone?"
"Far away from you," she snapped, "you and your demon tendencies. Be with your lover, Mr. Salvatore, and leave my mistress be!" she was shouting by the end, her hands balled into fists at her sides. Damon flinched at her words, his head hanging down until his chin touched upon his chest. His heart only broke more as he realized just how deeply his had cut into Astra.
"I didn't want to hurt her," he sobbed softly, falling to his knees. He hated that his eyes burned with tears, he hated that he was so weak as to break down in front of a servant. But he ached on the inside, for so many reasons. He had lost his father, he was being torn away from his brother and he now knew there was no chance that he would ever gain favour with his once love. "I love her, you must believe me."
"Leave, Mr. Salvatore. Move on and let her be happy; a happiness that you can no longer give her." Annabel stepped forward, drawing Damon's eyes as she walked with determination and a purpose. Her eyes were hard as they stared down at him, no longer the quiet young woman that would always be following Astra around like a faithful lap dog. "You have already lost her." Grasping the open doors, she pulled on them and slammed them shut, closing Damon off from the house completely. He couldn't help but to revel in the strong scent of Astra that was blown from the house by the closing doors, gusting in his face and blowing back his hair for a moment.
Damon let out a deep sob as he remained on his knees, listening to the deafening click of the lock sliding closed. It was too quiet, too empty.
He didn't want to believe that he had lost her; he didn't want to believe that she was gone.
Damon was no fool, however, and it was clear to him that he had messed up the best thing that had come to his life. Katherine, a woman that couldn't choose between him and his brother, was a terrible choice and it had cost him greatly. Never in his life, now eternal, would he ever mourn something more than he mourned his first love. Astra was something that could never be replaced, not with Katherine or any other willing woman that crossed his path. A unique snowflake, among thousands, but she had been his snowflake. She always would be his, no matter what man she found to replace him. She would forever belong to him.
Rising from his knees, he sullenly turned away from the home and stepped back onto the cobblestone drive, moving steadily away from the building that he had once envisioned living in with Astra. He had even gone so far as to imagine how many children they would have had, filling the many rooms inside the manor. The dream of a father and a lover; now destined to be neither.
Stopping halfway up the drive, Damon lifted his head up to look toward the sky.
She was human, though, and forever out of his reach. He wouldn't force the life of a vampire onto her, the life of a demon. He had seen what his brother did, and what he himself could be capable of. She did not deserve such a life, and he would never allow himself to take the risk of ruining her chance of happiness.
Katherine, however, was already a vampire.
Roman Empire, Pompeii, 78 A.D.
Elijah ran, faster than the humans of the city could see, straight to him home—but he didn't care, let them see, they were all going to die anyway. Astraea had not been at her own home, the entire building empty as her family were stuck elsewhere with the sudden amount of rocks falling from the sky. His heart thrummed in his chest as he raced, feeling the sharp, quick pain of the stone that hit his shoulders and the arms he had raised to protect his head.
The screams of the city's citizens stabbed at his eardrums, coming from all directions; some in fear, some in pain and others in despair. Prayers were shouted to the skies in hopes that the gods would hear them and relieve them of the punishment that they were being given. They didn't know what they had done wrong. Was Astraea praying right now? Was she trying to think of a reason for why the city was being buried in the remains of a volcano?
"Elijah!" Nicklaus yelled from behind him, but Elijah was older and faster than his brother and could reach the front entrance to his house before the other male could reach him. His body instinctively froze, however, when he caught the scent of Astraea's blood, strong and fresh. A growl rose in his chest as he raced up the stairs, leaving Nicklaus cursing behind him in the doorway.
"Astra!" he called, rushing toward his bed chambers. The sights of his home were but a blur to him as he raced through the interior, bolting up the stairs and down the narrow hallway. The window at the far end was shattered and numerous bits of debris had fallen in to pile on the floor. Throwing himself into his chambers, the openness of his balcony was the first thing that he noticed. The curtains lying on the floor was the second, and the third was the body that lay beneath the material, a scattering of debris having landed on Astraea's prone form. "No," Elijah pleaded softly when he detected no sound of a heartbeat.
Beside her in an instant, his hands reached out to check what his ears could not find. But her pulse was absent as her heart lay still in her chest, wet and dry blood covering her lips and chin, as well as pooling on the floor beside her. One limp hand remained twisted in the curtains where she had grasped them before falling.
"No!" he howled, his fist slamming into the ground beside her, cracking the marble. Her body jolted because of the shaking stone, but did no more. Elijah's anger passed as soon as it appeared as the despair gripped him next, his hands—one now adorning quickly healing cuts—moving up to cup Astraea's heartbreakingly peaceful face. She had died alone, afraid and hurt. He had done so much to comfort her, even though she always told him she was ready to die; last night she had screamed at him in blame because she was once more afraid. She had died alone.
His thumbs stroked her cheeks tenderly, moving down to swipe at the blood lingering around her mouth. Nicklaus finally appeared behind him, completely silent as he watched his older brother tenderly caress the face of the woman that he had met at the festival. The red curtain had fallen to drape over her legs, looking almost as though she had been purposefully positioned in such a way. A red sash rested beneath her cheek, a barrier from the cold stone of the floor, and made her look surprisingly more pale even though he had seen how copper toned she was in the candlelight.
To see his brother reacting to someone in such a way both made him spiteful and shameful. He had never truly thought of Elijah's happiness through the years, acting hatefully to the rest of the family even though Elijah had done no wrong toward him. His brother deserved to be happy, and that had been taken from him. He felt greedily pleased that he still had his brother to himself, and ashamed at the feeling.
"Elijah, we need to leave," Nicklaus began cautiously. "This city will be buried soon."
"She did not deserve this," Elijah said faintly as he continued to look into the pale face of his once love.
"Take her with us, we will give her a burial fit for a king, but we must leave," Nicklaus said gently as he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, feeling the momentary tensing of Elijah's muscles before he relaxed again and nodded his head. Stepping back, he allowing his brother to lean down and press a gentle kiss on Astraea's forehead as he was slipping his arms beneath her shoulders and knees.
Her head fell over his arm as she was lifted from the ground, a painful sight that only further supported the sight of a corpse. Elijah's hands clenched her body tightly as he looked down at the exposed skin of her neck, no longer appealing to him. Perhaps it was his fault; he shouldn't have fed from her the night before, thinking that she was healthy enough for it.
"Brother," Nicklaus began again, snapping Elijah's attention back to the present problem. They needed to get out of the city before they, too, were forever stuck beneath the volcano's ash. Elijah moved his cape around from over his shoulder to cover Astra's form, most likely to protect her from the falling stones and debris from the volcano. He pressed a tender kiss her to cold temple before the brothers both disappeared from his chambers, back to rushing through the streets to escape the city.
I will be continuing with the flashbacks, for those that are wondering. Just because things have changed doesn't mean that they're gone. They will be a bit different, however, but that's not for a little while longer. Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, even though it was very much Astra-less(aside from her technically not dead, dead body.)
Just a hint, this next chapter is going to be very interesting…
Chapter 38 – Lest We Forget
Damon listened carefully for if Katherine was approaching and was relieved to hear that she was moving about on the bottom floor, more than likely thinking that he was throwing a fit about her presence upstairs. Looking to Astra, he lifted a finger to his lips and silently told her to be quiet. She frowned slightly before listening carefully, catching on to the sound of someone else in the house.
"She probably won't be very happy to have you here," Damon explained without going into detail. So long as he didn't talk too loudly Katherine would more than likely remain ignorant to Astra's presence in the house.
Sure to keep his movements slow, Damon offered her a hand to help her back onto her feet, seeing the fear in her eyes. The lack of remembrance was frightening, he knew that, and he wished that he could help her.
"I promise, you're safe with me," he assured gently. She looked at his hands for a moment before placing her smaller fingers over his and allowed him to pull her up one more, plaster and dust falling from her shoulder. "You just stay here and I'll go get you something to change into, alright?" Damon asked as he made sure he was holding eye contact with her.