Disclaimers: Elena Gilbert, Stefan Salvatore and friends, along with the Vampire Diaries I - IV belong to L.J. Smith. Everything else belongs to me. No harm intended or money made from this fic.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
Date posted: 2 December 2002
~ Twenty Three ~
Reality spun, kaleidoscope-like, back into focus.
The four vampires found themselves in a sparse room with gray cement walls and hard, cold stone underfoot. In contrast with the starkness of the room, the contents were varied and mismatched. The single door proved to be locked and the passages facing each other led to a warren of rooms. These were as unadorned as the first and furnished with the same motley fashion, but with some organization; there were several bedrooms, one room was filled with electrical odds and ends and tools, kitchen implements stored in another room. One room was entirely filled with boxes of books. There wasn't a single window in the entire place.
And all four lapis lazuli amulets had been taken.
* * *
"Okay, so we can't go out in the sun. I don't see any light under that flimsy door, so it's gotta be night; why now just bust through it and _leave_?" Tristan demanded. It was his fifth variant of that suggestion.
Leon was slouched in an armchair looking content or deep in thought, it was hard to tell. Makoe was leaning against a wall, arms and ankles crossed and dispassionate gray eyes broodingly sweeping the room. Stefan, perched quietly on a bar stool in a corner, looked lost in his own contemplations.
"Hello?!" Tristan called after a minute when no one responded to his proposal. "Is everyone but me still in la-la land?"
"I don't think Mr. Jerrick would go through all that trouble of catching us only to let us get away so easily," Leon commented easily. His fingers were linked over his chest and his eyes were closed.
"So? We still need to get out of here. No way I'm gonna sit here and wait to be used for slayer entertainment. If we don't escape, what chance do we have? It's not like there's someone out there who would come and save us!" Tristan ranted, almost dancing in agitation. "Samar wouldn't have realized yet that we're in trouble, much less figure out where we went."
Leon's eyes flicked open. He considered Tristan thoughtfully for a moment and the other vampire waited to hear what he had to say. Finally, Leon closed his eyes again. "We're underground."
Tristan scowled at this non-sequitir. "That's why you don't see any light under that door. That's why there aren't any windows," Leon explained without opening his eyes. "If you tried to hear beyond the walls, I doubt you'll hear anything a thing unless there's an earthworm nearby. There's no easy way out even if we broke that door down; we'd still have to climb up who knows how far and there'll probably be a barricaded trapdoor at the top. Or more magic."
That last bit caught Makoe's attention. "Magic," he repeated, a not-quite-there note of inquiry in that one word.
"Yep. He's obviously one of the witches Baron keeps in her band. Some of the traps during the fight were magical, didn't you know?"
Makoe didn't reply. Tristan's scowl had not faded; it had deepened. "Well, we still have to figure out a way to get out of here," he insisted sullenly, but Leon's revelations had obviously taken the wind out of his sails.
"I wonder... He said we saved him some trouble by coming here. Meaning he's had his eye on us all along?" Leon mused on another vein.
"Or maybe just _one_ of us," Tristan muttered, glaring at Stefan. Makoe looked at him and then followed the direction of his gaze. The Italian vampire came out of his reverie under the force of both their regards. Stefan's face was aloof and expressionless, reminding them of his aristocratic lineage.
"What do you think, Salvatore? Was your girlfriend looking for you?" Tristan jibed, an undertone of accusation in his voice.
"You were there are our last meeting; what do you think?" the – physically – younger man returned.
Green eyes and hazel stared each other down. Surprisingly, it was Tristan who looked away first. Maybe it was because he had been unfairly targeting Stefan as the outsider, or perhaps the weight of anger and pain in Stefan's eyes was more than he had bargained for.
Stefan got up after an awkward moment and left the room. Leon opened his eyes and thought, with a mixture of irritation and amazement, ::He's going off to _sulk_?:: even as he drawled ironically at Tristan, "Well done."
Leon realized how alienated the young man must feel, trapped here with them. If he was to join them, some overtures of friendship were in order right then. Peacekeeper as he was, Leon rose and followed the retreating figure.
After the two left, Tristan shot Makoe a belligerent glance to which the other vampire looked unimpressed. Ignoring him, Makoe went back to thinking about Jerrick. Tristan's mind darted from one topic to another, like a minnow; Salvatore, hunters, Samar, escape, why they were being held captive...
A strange thumping from beyond the door brought the two vampires on alert. It died as suddenly as it began but neither man relaxed. The uneven noise resumed, growing louder as the source drew closer.
Tristan and Makoe moved as one, taking up matching positions in front of the door. It opened and they both surged forward–
–to hit an invisible wall and stagger backwards, reeling and dazed. They recognized what it was, when they recovered; the barrier was the same kind they encountered when trying to enter a human dwelling uninvited.
They exchanged a glance and then looked at the scene framed in the doorway.
Two humans, wearing similar expressions of suffering and laughter, flanked a very strange sight. Staying strictly on their side of the door, they maneuvered their burden through the threshold, pushing it the last feet or so. With an air of profound relief, they shut the door. The key turned in the lock.
Samar writhed within her bonds. At first glance, she looked like a bizarre mummy, with fibrous rope wrapped around her body, molding it to the plain wooden chair she was sitting on. Her feet were tied together in an odd manner. The arrangement prevented her toes from touching the floor. Her hands were tied behind her back with more rope. Whatever she was trying to say muffled by the silver masking tape over her mouth. Tristan rushed forward to tear off her bonds, but was forestalled by Makoe. "Wait."
The shorter vampire went over to her and ripped the tape off in a fluid motion. The air was split by a scream that held more outrage than pain.
"It's best to get it off fast," he shrugged unrepentantly at her. Samar went on shrieking insults like a fishwife. When the comments turned to, "Untie me, you moronic undead," Makoe lifted an inquiring eyebrow at the Tristan.
"Are you _sure_ you want to free her?"
Tristan stared at his sister thoughtfully as she continued to struggle and hurl abuse at them. "Well... staying in that position is not really doing her any harm..."
"And in her current mood, she would be _inflicting_ harm if she were able to," Makoe pointed out.
"I guess... we should let her calm down first," Tristan said slowly.
"Good idea," Makoe agreed. He briskly resealed her mouth, making sure her lips were closed so she couldn't cut through the tape with her fangs.
Drawn by the sound of her voice, Leon reappeared, with Stefan trailing uncertainly behind. The phlegmatic vampire took a quick step forward at the sight of Samar but stopped when he realized that neither Tristan nor Makoe was making any move to untie her.
At his quizzical look, Tristan said, a tad defensively, "She's fine the way she is, Leon. And she needs some time to calm down."
Leon looked at Makoe, quite sure he knew whose idea that was. The dark-haired vampire returned the look blandly, unmoved. ::You know you're going to pay for this later, Makoe,:: Leon warned.
::Oh, no doubt,:: the other replied, sounding mildly amused.
Leon turned his mind to other matters. Stefan lingered in the corridor, staying out of the scene without actually leaving.
"How did she get here?" he asked, careful not to meet Samar's accusing eyes.
"They caught her, just like they got us–" Tristan began, not realizing how inconsistent he sounded.
"She followed us," Makoe cut in flatly. Again, Leon looked at him appraisingly. He remembered the drive to the Baron place.
"You knew she was following us, didn't you? And you _let_ her?" Leon said, losing his easy-going manner. Tristan was visibly getting worked up as well.
"Yes," Aodhan resumed his position against the wall, hands and ankles crossed casually. "She wanted in on the action."
"Dammit, she's kept _out_ of all this for a reason, Makoe," Tristan exploded. "Namely, that she can't handle it. The fact that she's _here_ proves it."
"Would you like to take that argument up with _her_," Leon murmured, noticing the way Samar was glaring at her brother.
"Your reasoning is a little faulty there, D'Angelo. _You're_ here; we all are. What does that say about us?" Makoe pointed out. "Don't you wonder _how_ she was following us?" he asked, interrupting Tristan's train of thought.
"What do you mean, how?"
"We _drove_ here?" Makoe prompted. Any other person would be smiling demonically at Samar at this point, but Makoe never smiled. Samar turned her death-stare on Makoe now. Leon caught on but looked unaffected.
"Oh, _no!_" Tristan shouted at the top of his lungs. "Tell me you took Leon's Nissan," he demanded of his silenced sister, who continued to try and stake Makoe with her gaze. "_You touched the Lotus?_" he bellowed, incredulously. Samar only tossed her head and examined the ceiling with defiant nonchalance. Tristan's mouth moved incoherently for several seconds as he tried to find words to express his rage.
He glared at Makoe for letting Samar follow them. He fumed at Samar for touching his precious car, for following them, for getting caught and putting herself in danger. He snarled at Leon who held up hands pacifyingly, wearing an innocent expression. Storming off, he didn't even acknowledge Stefan's presence just inside the hallway.
Leon shook his head, met Samar's eyes and looked meaningfully at Makoe to disclaim responsibility for leaving her like that, and left. Stefan melted back into the hallway after him. Leon wondered if Samar had even realized that he was there.
When they were alone, Makoe strode up to her casually. "Have you calmed down yet?"
The hazel eyes shot daggers at him. He raised eyebrows, unimpressed. She tossed her head, looking defiant but grudgingly saying yes.
"Good. Then I can take off these nasty bonds," Makoe said, sarcastically pleasant. As before, he ripped the gag off. Samar gasped and inhaled a deep breath to verbally castrate him but the cold gray eyes fixed on her flatly, watchful.
She closed her mouth meekly. Makoe waited a moment before bending to work out the knots in the ropes binding her shoulders. It took a while to undo the complicated and multiple knots, more time to unwind the loops. From the separate ties, it became obvious that not all the bonds had been put on at the same time; more bonds had been added on later.
"Gave them a time, did you?" Makoe murmured. She couldn't see his facial expression as he was working on the ropes binding her hands and was behind her.
"I guess," she said. The ropes around her wrists fell away and she breathed a loud sigh of relief. She swung her hands – nearly hitting Makoe – and rubbed her wrists vigorously, trying to get circulation back.
He knelt in front of her, fingers poised on the last bonds. "Before I let you loose, just remember that _I_ untied you. Also, I _let_ you follow us here; I could have lost you in traffic any number of times. So no abusing the benevolent benefactor," he said sternly.
She nodded. When the ropes came off, she wriggled her feet to restore circulation, biting her lip and flexing all the harder against the pain of rushing blood.
Makoe watched her for a minute, then satisfied that she was fine, turned to leave. He was a step away from the passageway when something hard and wooden crashed over him. He sprawled on the floor, seeing multicolored-white and letting out a barely audible groan.
When he managed to roll onto his back, he found Samar standing over him, brandishing the wooden chair that had recently been her pedestal prison.
"Numbskull," she yelled. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't _still_ be tied up. And you expect me to thank you for bringing me here?" She raised the remains of the chair threateningly a second time, but Leon came running back into the room and grabbed her and Stefan appeared to pull the arsenal from her.
"Now, now, Samar, behave," Leon said, steering her away with uncharacteristic speed. Probably to protect her from Makoe's retribution.
::I warned you,:: Leon reminded him.
Telepathy was a blessing when one was gasping in pain. ::I thought you were talking about yourself,:: Makoe admitted, a growl underlying his mental voice.
::Let's not start a feud here, Makoe. She's just a kid,:: Leon reminded meaningfully.
Aodhan snorted, staring at their retreating feet from his position on the ground. ::As if I'd beat her up. Not only would I have her insane brother after me, I'd have to deal with you, the overprotective father figure, too. Is she worth that? I don't think so.::
::Maybe not, but we both know you could do a lot worse. Call it even,:: he was advised.
::Fine. She has enough of a score to settle with her brother, anyway,:: he returned, a trifle smug. He slowly worked on getting to his feet, feeling hands support and steady him.
He met Stefan's eyes ironically. "Well, aren't we off on an auspicious start," he ground out.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
Date posted: 2 December 2002
~ Twenty Three ~
Reality spun, kaleidoscope-like, back into focus.
The four vampires found themselves in a sparse room with gray cement walls and hard, cold stone underfoot. In contrast with the starkness of the room, the contents were varied and mismatched. The single door proved to be locked and the passages facing each other led to a warren of rooms. These were as unadorned as the first and furnished with the same motley fashion, but with some organization; there were several bedrooms, one room was filled with electrical odds and ends and tools, kitchen implements stored in another room. One room was entirely filled with boxes of books. There wasn't a single window in the entire place.
And all four lapis lazuli amulets had been taken.
* * *
"Okay, so we can't go out in the sun. I don't see any light under that flimsy door, so it's gotta be night; why now just bust through it and _leave_?" Tristan demanded. It was his fifth variant of that suggestion.
Leon was slouched in an armchair looking content or deep in thought, it was hard to tell. Makoe was leaning against a wall, arms and ankles crossed and dispassionate gray eyes broodingly sweeping the room. Stefan, perched quietly on a bar stool in a corner, looked lost in his own contemplations.
"Hello?!" Tristan called after a minute when no one responded to his proposal. "Is everyone but me still in la-la land?"
"I don't think Mr. Jerrick would go through all that trouble of catching us only to let us get away so easily," Leon commented easily. His fingers were linked over his chest and his eyes were closed.
"So? We still need to get out of here. No way I'm gonna sit here and wait to be used for slayer entertainment. If we don't escape, what chance do we have? It's not like there's someone out there who would come and save us!" Tristan ranted, almost dancing in agitation. "Samar wouldn't have realized yet that we're in trouble, much less figure out where we went."
Leon's eyes flicked open. He considered Tristan thoughtfully for a moment and the other vampire waited to hear what he had to say. Finally, Leon closed his eyes again. "We're underground."
Tristan scowled at this non-sequitir. "That's why you don't see any light under that door. That's why there aren't any windows," Leon explained without opening his eyes. "If you tried to hear beyond the walls, I doubt you'll hear anything a thing unless there's an earthworm nearby. There's no easy way out even if we broke that door down; we'd still have to climb up who knows how far and there'll probably be a barricaded trapdoor at the top. Or more magic."
That last bit caught Makoe's attention. "Magic," he repeated, a not-quite-there note of inquiry in that one word.
"Yep. He's obviously one of the witches Baron keeps in her band. Some of the traps during the fight were magical, didn't you know?"
Makoe didn't reply. Tristan's scowl had not faded; it had deepened. "Well, we still have to figure out a way to get out of here," he insisted sullenly, but Leon's revelations had obviously taken the wind out of his sails.
"I wonder... He said we saved him some trouble by coming here. Meaning he's had his eye on us all along?" Leon mused on another vein.
"Or maybe just _one_ of us," Tristan muttered, glaring at Stefan. Makoe looked at him and then followed the direction of his gaze. The Italian vampire came out of his reverie under the force of both their regards. Stefan's face was aloof and expressionless, reminding them of his aristocratic lineage.
"What do you think, Salvatore? Was your girlfriend looking for you?" Tristan jibed, an undertone of accusation in his voice.
"You were there are our last meeting; what do you think?" the – physically – younger man returned.
Green eyes and hazel stared each other down. Surprisingly, it was Tristan who looked away first. Maybe it was because he had been unfairly targeting Stefan as the outsider, or perhaps the weight of anger and pain in Stefan's eyes was more than he had bargained for.
Stefan got up after an awkward moment and left the room. Leon opened his eyes and thought, with a mixture of irritation and amazement, ::He's going off to _sulk_?:: even as he drawled ironically at Tristan, "Well done."
Leon realized how alienated the young man must feel, trapped here with them. If he was to join them, some overtures of friendship were in order right then. Peacekeeper as he was, Leon rose and followed the retreating figure.
After the two left, Tristan shot Makoe a belligerent glance to which the other vampire looked unimpressed. Ignoring him, Makoe went back to thinking about Jerrick. Tristan's mind darted from one topic to another, like a minnow; Salvatore, hunters, Samar, escape, why they were being held captive...
A strange thumping from beyond the door brought the two vampires on alert. It died as suddenly as it began but neither man relaxed. The uneven noise resumed, growing louder as the source drew closer.
Tristan and Makoe moved as one, taking up matching positions in front of the door. It opened and they both surged forward–
–to hit an invisible wall and stagger backwards, reeling and dazed. They recognized what it was, when they recovered; the barrier was the same kind they encountered when trying to enter a human dwelling uninvited.
They exchanged a glance and then looked at the scene framed in the doorway.
Two humans, wearing similar expressions of suffering and laughter, flanked a very strange sight. Staying strictly on their side of the door, they maneuvered their burden through the threshold, pushing it the last feet or so. With an air of profound relief, they shut the door. The key turned in the lock.
Samar writhed within her bonds. At first glance, she looked like a bizarre mummy, with fibrous rope wrapped around her body, molding it to the plain wooden chair she was sitting on. Her feet were tied together in an odd manner. The arrangement prevented her toes from touching the floor. Her hands were tied behind her back with more rope. Whatever she was trying to say muffled by the silver masking tape over her mouth. Tristan rushed forward to tear off her bonds, but was forestalled by Makoe. "Wait."
The shorter vampire went over to her and ripped the tape off in a fluid motion. The air was split by a scream that held more outrage than pain.
"It's best to get it off fast," he shrugged unrepentantly at her. Samar went on shrieking insults like a fishwife. When the comments turned to, "Untie me, you moronic undead," Makoe lifted an inquiring eyebrow at the Tristan.
"Are you _sure_ you want to free her?"
Tristan stared at his sister thoughtfully as she continued to struggle and hurl abuse at them. "Well... staying in that position is not really doing her any harm..."
"And in her current mood, she would be _inflicting_ harm if she were able to," Makoe pointed out.
"I guess... we should let her calm down first," Tristan said slowly.
"Good idea," Makoe agreed. He briskly resealed her mouth, making sure her lips were closed so she couldn't cut through the tape with her fangs.
Drawn by the sound of her voice, Leon reappeared, with Stefan trailing uncertainly behind. The phlegmatic vampire took a quick step forward at the sight of Samar but stopped when he realized that neither Tristan nor Makoe was making any move to untie her.
At his quizzical look, Tristan said, a tad defensively, "She's fine the way she is, Leon. And she needs some time to calm down."
Leon looked at Makoe, quite sure he knew whose idea that was. The dark-haired vampire returned the look blandly, unmoved. ::You know you're going to pay for this later, Makoe,:: Leon warned.
::Oh, no doubt,:: the other replied, sounding mildly amused.
Leon turned his mind to other matters. Stefan lingered in the corridor, staying out of the scene without actually leaving.
"How did she get here?" he asked, careful not to meet Samar's accusing eyes.
"They caught her, just like they got us–" Tristan began, not realizing how inconsistent he sounded.
"She followed us," Makoe cut in flatly. Again, Leon looked at him appraisingly. He remembered the drive to the Baron place.
"You knew she was following us, didn't you? And you _let_ her?" Leon said, losing his easy-going manner. Tristan was visibly getting worked up as well.
"Yes," Aodhan resumed his position against the wall, hands and ankles crossed casually. "She wanted in on the action."
"Dammit, she's kept _out_ of all this for a reason, Makoe," Tristan exploded. "Namely, that she can't handle it. The fact that she's _here_ proves it."
"Would you like to take that argument up with _her_," Leon murmured, noticing the way Samar was glaring at her brother.
"Your reasoning is a little faulty there, D'Angelo. _You're_ here; we all are. What does that say about us?" Makoe pointed out. "Don't you wonder _how_ she was following us?" he asked, interrupting Tristan's train of thought.
"What do you mean, how?"
"We _drove_ here?" Makoe prompted. Any other person would be smiling demonically at Samar at this point, but Makoe never smiled. Samar turned her death-stare on Makoe now. Leon caught on but looked unaffected.
"Oh, _no!_" Tristan shouted at the top of his lungs. "Tell me you took Leon's Nissan," he demanded of his silenced sister, who continued to try and stake Makoe with her gaze. "_You touched the Lotus?_" he bellowed, incredulously. Samar only tossed her head and examined the ceiling with defiant nonchalance. Tristan's mouth moved incoherently for several seconds as he tried to find words to express his rage.
He glared at Makoe for letting Samar follow them. He fumed at Samar for touching his precious car, for following them, for getting caught and putting herself in danger. He snarled at Leon who held up hands pacifyingly, wearing an innocent expression. Storming off, he didn't even acknowledge Stefan's presence just inside the hallway.
Leon shook his head, met Samar's eyes and looked meaningfully at Makoe to disclaim responsibility for leaving her like that, and left. Stefan melted back into the hallway after him. Leon wondered if Samar had even realized that he was there.
When they were alone, Makoe strode up to her casually. "Have you calmed down yet?"
The hazel eyes shot daggers at him. He raised eyebrows, unimpressed. She tossed her head, looking defiant but grudgingly saying yes.
"Good. Then I can take off these nasty bonds," Makoe said, sarcastically pleasant. As before, he ripped the gag off. Samar gasped and inhaled a deep breath to verbally castrate him but the cold gray eyes fixed on her flatly, watchful.
She closed her mouth meekly. Makoe waited a moment before bending to work out the knots in the ropes binding her shoulders. It took a while to undo the complicated and multiple knots, more time to unwind the loops. From the separate ties, it became obvious that not all the bonds had been put on at the same time; more bonds had been added on later.
"Gave them a time, did you?" Makoe murmured. She couldn't see his facial expression as he was working on the ropes binding her hands and was behind her.
"I guess," she said. The ropes around her wrists fell away and she breathed a loud sigh of relief. She swung her hands – nearly hitting Makoe – and rubbed her wrists vigorously, trying to get circulation back.
He knelt in front of her, fingers poised on the last bonds. "Before I let you loose, just remember that _I_ untied you. Also, I _let_ you follow us here; I could have lost you in traffic any number of times. So no abusing the benevolent benefactor," he said sternly.
She nodded. When the ropes came off, she wriggled her feet to restore circulation, biting her lip and flexing all the harder against the pain of rushing blood.
Makoe watched her for a minute, then satisfied that she was fine, turned to leave. He was a step away from the passageway when something hard and wooden crashed over him. He sprawled on the floor, seeing multicolored-white and letting out a barely audible groan.
When he managed to roll onto his back, he found Samar standing over him, brandishing the wooden chair that had recently been her pedestal prison.
"Numbskull," she yelled. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't _still_ be tied up. And you expect me to thank you for bringing me here?" She raised the remains of the chair threateningly a second time, but Leon came running back into the room and grabbed her and Stefan appeared to pull the arsenal from her.
"Now, now, Samar, behave," Leon said, steering her away with uncharacteristic speed. Probably to protect her from Makoe's retribution.
::I warned you,:: Leon reminded him.
Telepathy was a blessing when one was gasping in pain. ::I thought you were talking about yourself,:: Makoe admitted, a growl underlying his mental voice.
::Let's not start a feud here, Makoe. She's just a kid,:: Leon reminded meaningfully.
Aodhan snorted, staring at their retreating feet from his position on the ground. ::As if I'd beat her up. Not only would I have her insane brother after me, I'd have to deal with you, the overprotective father figure, too. Is she worth that? I don't think so.::
::Maybe not, but we both know you could do a lot worse. Call it even,:: he was advised.
::Fine. She has enough of a score to settle with her brother, anyway,:: he returned, a trifle smug. He slowly worked on getting to his feet, feeling hands support and steady him.
He met Stefan's eyes ironically. "Well, aren't we off on an auspicious start," he ground out.