Disclaimers: Elena Gilbert, Stefan Salvatore and friends, along with the Vampire Diaries I - IV belong to L.J. Smith. Everything else is mine. No harm intended or money made from this fic.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
* Author's Note(s)
Date posted: 15 March 2003
* I'm not meeting my own targets. Maybe I ought to target to post twice a week and then maybe I will post once a week. =P
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~ Forty Two ~
The cabin reverberated with the force of the door slamming shut but Samar didn't notice. On the walk back from the main lodge, she had managed to work herself into a near-frenzy of anger and scoffing.
She stormed into the room and was about to continue her march right into her room – passing the living area and leaving all five of its occupants unacknowledged – when she was distracted.
"Welcome back." Makoe's dry, unperturbed greeting unleashed the full force of her temper.
She stopped dead in her tracks. "Just who – what – does he take me for, some gullible child?" she exploded.
Leon asked, "Who?" but she didn't hear, didn't answer. She did an about-face, her eyes passing the faces turned towards her without seeing them. "It was _so_ obviously a setup; the entire scene was staged! He thought he could fool me! Hah! He can think again." She waved her hands to emphasize her words, her facial expressions and tone of voice lending depth to her tirade.
"What is he up to anyway? What did he think I would do? Fall on my knees and beg to be changed?" she said, winding down to a mutter.
"Changed? Changed into what?" Tristan demanded. Samar paid him no more attention than she had Leon. She began pacing agitatedly. "Ask her, he says," she muttered under her breath. "Well, I will!" She stalked to stand in front of the only human in the room.
"Elena," she declared authoritatively, for all that she was addressing her for the first time. The blonde abruptly found herself gazing up the length of a pointed finger and slim arm at the petite female vampire. "You can't change vampires back into humans, can you?"
Instead of the incredulous denial she expected, Samar's question was met with unguarded shock. And a fear that said, more clearly than any words, that Jerrick's claim had been true. The two girls stared at each other and then Samar was stumbling backwards, to collapse in a – thankfully – empty chair. "No...way..." she whispered, still looking at Elena, who was now looking down at her hands clasped on her lap.
Around her, chaos was erupting. Tristan was on his feet, roaring, "_What?_" Leon had sat up, leaning forward intently, also gazing at Elena. Makoe was watching Stefan and there was an open send in a tone as cold as his expression, ::You don't look at all surprised, Salvatore. Have you been holding out on us?::
::I just found out today myself,:: Stefan returned, visibly trying to remain calm. His body, however, was tensed and his stance a trifle protective where he sat beside the subdued-looking Elena.
Samar only registered all this vaguely. Her eyes were fixed on the blonde, but her mind's eye saw something different. Scenes from her previous life; precious, mundane moments, lost forever to a creature of the night. An everyday breakfast with the family in a sunny alcove, smiling faces of friends waving from the car as it pulls away, marathon telephone sessions and joyous jubilation on the first day of summer break, secret dreams about this or that cute guy...
"So Jerrick put her here to change us all into humans while we slept?" Tristan was asking wildly.
"No!" Elena's head came up like a deer's, in one swift, smooth movement. "I only Turn those who want to be human again," she cried. Her vehemence silenced even Tristan. He recovered after a moment to sneer, "Yeah, right. Why should we believe you?"
"Because it's the truth. I _can't_ change you unless you want it wholeheartedly," Elena repeated firmly. "If the vampire rejects the change, he or she will die."
"And if Jerrick simply wanted us dead, we would have been staked long ago," Leon added logically, forestalling further outburst from Tristan. He then added, thoughtfully, "But, to make us human again – what purpose could that serve?"
"Who knows what goes on in that twisted mind? And what's more, who cares?" Tristan raged. "But _she_," and he pointed an accusing finger at Elena, "is _not_ staying here with us." Stefan shifted, interposing himself between Tristan and Elena. But before a full-fledge confrontation could blossom, Samar moved, appearing between them and shoving her brother back into his chair.
"You! Save your stupid paranoia. If it weren't for you, neither of us would be where we are today!"
"What, beautiful, powerful and immortal?" Makoe murmured, watching the siblings with the closest thing he had come to amusement. His mockery was lost in Tristan's outraged rebuttal, "Ex_cuse_ me? Just _how_ am _I_ to blame for this–"
"If it wasn't for your crazy, blood-sucking girlfriend, I would still be human!" she shouted him down, all the force in her small body behind the yell. In the silence that ensued, she went on, raging. "I'd be grown up. I would still have a family I could spend time with. Instead, just because I walked in on the two of you when she bit you, that _girl_ decided to bite me too! I never had any choice in the matter–"
"Oh, cut the 'poor me' speech, Samar," Tristan interrupted her in turn. A sneer curled his lip and he looked unimpressed. "I don't see what you're complaining about, anyway. You're stronger, faster and better looking than you used to be. Your freckles are gone, not to mention your zits; you can beat up just about any guy who annoys you – and that's almost _every_ guy; you'll never get sick and you'll live forever. You see better in the dark, you hear better – I don't see what you're complaining about!" Tristan repeated exasperatedly.
She was silent for such a long time that Tristan, lying still where he had landed in a sprawl, peered up at her carefully. Her head was bent, streaked hair falling to hide her face.
"What am I complaining about?" she asked softly from behind the curtain of hair. She looked up and Tristan found himself the focus of a slightly mad, malevolent gaze. Her words started low, but increased in force and volume with each sentence.
"I'm complaining that I lost my family. I'm complaining that I had to disappear and leave my whole life behind. That I can never see or talk to Mom and Dad again. That I lost all my friends and everything I held dear in one day. I'm complaining that I will never be able to grow up and grow old. That I'll never fall in love, get married and have kids. That I can never go out into the daylight without this stupid _rock_ strapped to me." She pulled the chain from around her neck and threw it at him. "That I can't just have a salad or a burger when I'm hungry. That I can't be _human_."
Stefan and Elena were staring at her, Leon looked concerned and faintly compassionate. Makoe's eyes were hooded, his expression closed and revealing nothing. Tristan looked grim and stubborn, but there was a flicker of ...something in the back of his eyes as he stared up at his sister. She crossed her arms, lips twisting in a bitter line.
"But I guess you can't see that with your head so far up your ass," she spat and then stormed off to her room, shutting the door with a slam that warned against anyone trying to follow her.
* * *
Eiran walked quietly, lost in thought, only half his attention focused on threading the way to his room. He was exhausted, almost too much so to think coherently. The recent upheavals were the cause, of course. Untenably, the very same events required him to have his wits about him and a clear mind to think out its implications.
Unrest stirred his soul. He knew he would not experience peace until he had sorted out and reconciled his emotions, which currently lay in a tangled web.
Uppermost in his mind was his unease with Jerrick's latest gambit. Eiran knew full well that Jerrick was trying to force Elena into doing his bidding. The witch was a ruthless master of manipulation. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. In spite of that, Eiran followed his direction because Jerrick's pitiless determination would eventually free Elena of her promise. And that was enough for Eiran.
So he would leave tomorrow, with the rest of the Turned to seek vampires who wanted to be human again. Jerrick had instructed that no hint was to be given of the Old Ones' involvement in this. An absent part of Eiran wondered just how the Turned would convince the other vampires of the truth in their claims. Unless those vampires had known the individual Turned while he or she had been a vampire...
He reached his room and paused, one hand on the door, to glance at the vacant room across the hall. Elena was with the vampires instead of here, where he could most readily reach her if the need arose. But... it was no longer his place to answer her needs.
"Give her some time with Stefan," had been Jerrick's placid explanation when Eiran had inquired. "To renew her ties with him and remind her of her resolve." The young Turned now wondered if the witch's latest ploy involving the young female vampire did not have something to do with his choice of living arrangement.
::Elena...:: he thought wistfully.
With a slight twitch of his shoulders, he turned the knob and entered his room. Yes, part of his emotional turmoil had to do with the fact that Stefan was back at her side. Eiran had known better than to expect her to return his feelings, but at least in the past month, he had been close to her, had been her confidant and closest friend. Now, he had to distance himself and part of him rebelled at the notion, wanting instead to stand and challenge the vampire–
::Fool!:: the sensible side of him shouted, every bit as vehement as the mutinous, emotional part of him. ::She loves _him_. Antagonize him? Make her choose between him and you? That would destroy any bonds of friendship and trust you have with her!::
He went to the window. Through the dense wood outside, he fancied he saw a glimmer of light from the vampires' cabin. ::I should be happy for her,:: he told himself weakly. He remembered the scene he had walked into the night before. It was his dream – turned horribly wrong; Elena clasping a dark-haired man to her, joy smoothing her beautiful face into soft lines. Except that the man who held her was not him, but Stefan Salvatore.
And then, while he had stood, too paralyzed with horror and shock to act, Taura and Eiran had arrived and Elena had gotten shot protecting Stefan. Eiran's eyes closed tight as he remembered the incident and self-loathing again flooded him. Not since he had held Grace's limp body in his arms had he felt so wretched.
::You have Stefan to protect you now, lady,:: he told Elena silently, eyes opening again. ::He loves you and he will guard you well. So long as he remembers to hunt regularly,:: he added, remembering the interlude with the vampire. Stefan had looked so utterly taken aback at Eiran's claiming to have been a vampire once. Apparently, Elena had not told him about the Turned. But then, perhaps there hadn't been time. Things had moved so quickly since their reunion.
Shrewdly, instinctively, Eiran could guess what thoughts, what incredible hopes, were going through the vampire's head now. If Grace were still alive, Eiran would have been overjoyed at the chance of becoming human again and living out the rest of his mortal life with her.
Eiran turned away, crossing the room to flick on a bedside light. So many regrets to let go of, so many changes to adjust to.
He supposed, as he stuffed some clothes and necessities into an overnight bag, that this search for vampires was a blessing, in a way. It removed him from the present situation, gave him some time to lay his uneasiness and shattered dreams to rest.
* * *
The knock on the door was soft, yet not completely hesitant. Samar deliberately ignored the sound and heard the knob turn after a brief wait. She looked up, expecting to see Leon, and went still in surprise and defensiveness.
Elena quietly shut the door behind her and, without waiting for an invitation, approached the bed where the younger girl was sprawled on her stomach. Caught off guard, Samar was torn between lashing out in anger at the intrusion and a desire to gather up the commonplace, precious items spread out around her and hide them.
She scrambled onto her knees. "What do you want?" she demanded, pride forbidding her from frantically shoving the keepsakes out of sight.
The blonde looked at her and Samar had the eerie impression that she wasn't looking at Elena. Or at least, not _just_ Elena but some...thing else as well. "I think the question is, 'what do _you_ want,'" the blonde said with a strange detachment.
"What does that mean?" Samar fired back, unnerved. The steady, cool lapis eyes blinked and suddenly, the sense of _other_ was gone, leaving only a slightly disoriented-looking Elena. "Samar," she said belatedly. A quick glance around seemed to remind her of where she was and what she was doing there. "I felt your...yearning." Cryptic words, but Samar understood them all the same.
After secluding herself in her room, she had pulled out her treasures and lost herself in reminiscence. Homesickness and nostalgia had clogged her throat more than once and thoughts of asking Elena to change her back into a human – what had she called it? _Turn_ her – had danced in her mind.
She looked down at the photo album lying open beside her right foot and realized that she was still clutching the stuffed moose against her. Elena had followed her gaze. "May I sit down?" she asked, looking coolly poised and self-assured. Samar's gaze fell on the sketchbook, which was – thankfully – closed, and nodded once curtly.
The blonde sank onto the bed, curling one leg under her and facing Samar. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you," Elena said quietly. Samar looked up sharply to see a wry smile touch her lips. "Well...maybe a little." Seeing Samar's skeptical look, Elena's smile grew. "Stefan didn't tell you our story?" Samar gave her a 'what story?' look and Elena related how she and the vampire had met. By the time she finished, Samar was reeling in shock. The cool blonde took on whole new dimensions as the information changed her perspective of this 'enemy of Old Ones'. She had been human, vampire, spirit. She _did_ understand.
"So, yeah, I think I can relate a little to your situation. Not completely of course; I didn't spend the last twenty years looking like a fourteen-year-old," Elena finished.
Suddenly, Samar had the most bizarre urge to throw herself into Elena's arms and sob her heart out. Fortunately, she quelled the crazy impulse just short of action and merely nodded. Another spell of quiet followed.
Elena prompted her, "Your desire drew me here. _Do_ you really want to be Turned? Not all vampires who are made without consent want to go back to being human."
Samar felt her lips twist. "I don't know," she all but snapped irritably. "Even if I _did_ become human again, things can't go back to the way they were. How am I going to explain to my parents why I haven't aged a day since I disappeared twenty years ago? Not to mention what I'm going to say about Tristan." She dejectedly thumped a small fist onto her pillow.
Elena nodded, accepting those arguments. She threw the young vampire another question, "Those are the practicalities that need to be considered. But what about you, as a person? Do you hate _being_ a vampire? Do you want to be human, with all its limitations, after being so much...'more'? It sounded a little like that when you were tearing your brother to strips," there was a smile in her voice, "but I don't feel the pull as strongly now."
In answer, Samar threw her hands up in the air, exasperation and confusion in the volatile gesture. Looking faintly impatient, even sardonic, Elena said, "Well, there's no rush yet. Take your time and consider." She made to rise and Samar suddenly remembered what she had seen at the main building.
"Elena, Jerrick's sending out the Turned tomorrow to find vampires. He says it's the only safe way for you to expend the Power left by unmaking the Old Ones. He made it sound like their sacred duty or something to bring vampires back. Even gave them a quota – three vamps a piece," she said in a rush, her tone turning cynical towards the end. Her words had a scary effect; the blonde's expression grew furious and Samar was reminded that this was the girl she had seen shining to rival the sun just the night before.
Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. "Thank you for the information," she said curtly. Samar half-expected her to say something ominous like, "I'll deal with Jerrick," but she simply stood up and turned to the door, leashed rage in her movements. She took a step, then stopped and looked over her shoulder.
"By the way, here," Elena dropped the lapis pendant and chain she had thrown earlier onto the bed. "You'll still need this while you're weighing your options," she said. "Good night."
* * *
The Turned were assembling. Jerrick stood at the main entrance to lodge, watching impassively as they loaded whatever belongings they had decided they needed into their vehicles. The not-quite human faces were solemn and thoughtful as minds turned to their task.
One by one, they left, with a lift of a hand, a nod, a rallying call. Only a handful remained when Elena arrived.
"Stop this." All activity ceased at her commanding voice. Glad faces turned in her direction, like flowers to the sun. One or two ducked their heads in acknowledgement at the sight of her; some of the Turned still held her in reverence, despite her efforts to dissuade such treatment.
She barely noticed them, her attention fixed on him, a quiet, still figure on the top step. She strode up to him and he was struck by how much she seemed like Crystal now, with her emotions charging her movements until the air fairly crackled with Power. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, challengingly.
"Making preparations for the next strike," he said imperturbably. The vampires had accompanied her. He glanced past her to meet each of their eyes where they stood at the foot of the stairs. Around them, the Turned were like statues. This was the first time they had witnessed a confrontation between their revered savior and their wise leader and they were arrested at the thought of discord between the two. ::She's stopping us? But I thought this was what she wanted us to do..?:: he caught a whisper of wondering. Doubt began to creep into the open faces.
"You are _not_ going to make me Turn vampires against their will just to continue the task," she said flatly. In the quiet of early morning, her voice carried to all the ears of those gathered.
"No, I'm not. The Turned will find vampires who wish to be human again. They are the best agents to do this as they are living proof that vampires can be human again," he replied, with a small sweeping gesture to indicate the few remaining ex-vampires.
"And did you tell them about–" she broke off as someone emerged from the lodge behind him. Eiran barely paused as he nodded a greeting to her, carrying a small duffel bag. "Eiran," she caught his hand as he passed. To Jerrick, the way he stiffened at her touch told an eloquent and poignant tale. "Wait. There's been a change of plans," she added, her words heavy with meaning, her eyes on Jerrick. They snapped to Eiran's face when he spoke clearly.
"No, Elena."
Her grip loosened in surprise and he took the opportunity to walk on. He tossed the duffel into the backseat of the car, shut the door and paused to sweep the other Turned with his self-contained gaze. As if some unspoken signal had passed, they all resumed their activity. Jerrick could still read the uncertainty in their stance, however. That was not good; they needed to be convinced and full of purpose when they went about their mission, not filled with doubts and questions. He snaked out a tendril of Power, and laced a compulsion to hold them in place, letting none leave. Let them linger over _this_ task a little longer, check their engine condition one last time, idle a moment over _there_...
Elena took a dozen rapid steps towards Eiran. "What?" she demanded in a whisper. "Are you siding with Jerrick, against me?" Betrayal colored her tone with jagged spikes of almost-pain. Once again, the lingering Turned froze. The vampires remained a silent and motionless quintet thus far.
Eiran had been about to slide into the driver's seat. At her question, he faced her. Their gazes met and locked. Jerrick suppressed a sigh and a smile simultaneously, feeling the ex-vampire's reaction to Elena's words and her tone. Eiran was resisting the urge to cover the four paces that separated them. His mind clearly pictured how soft her hair would be against his fingers, her body pressed against his, their lips joined–
"Never, milady," he said softly. "This for you, only. We," and he looked quickly at his fellow Turned, "Won't let you put our interest before yours. This is what you need and we will do it with a willing heart." His words settled the alarms jangling in Jerrick's mind. The rest of the Turned relaxed, their doubts allayed, their spirits and resolve renewed. ::Good...Good.::
Elena took another step closer to him, "You don't know what you're doing–" she protested.
"We know," Eiran denied, with a quick shake of his head.
Another step, "No, you don't understand–"
Eiran closed the distance. "Elena," he caught her hand in both of his, a gesture almost faster than the eye could follow. "Trust us. We won't fail you." Jerrick felt his will weakening. "We'll be back soon." He let go of her just as the last thread of control snapped and whirled. "Move out," he said gruffly, his tone uncharacteristically commanding. Jerrick had to suppress another smile.
He released the compulsion, and within seconds, the last of the Turned started their cars and left the remote lodge. Elena watched them till the last disappeared from view and the sound of engines faded. Then she turned back to Jerrick. He took the initiative this time and motioned for her and the vampires to enter the main building. "We need to talk."
He led them into an old-fashioned 'den' decorated like a rustic hunting cabin, complete with trophy heads mounted high in the walls and a fire in the spacious hearth. He gave them just enough time to seat themselves to their liking before opening the conversation, preempting Elena's outburst.
"Samar has already told you I intend for you to channel the Power left by unmaking an Old One through your gift of Turning vampires. I've already assured you that only those who wish to be Turned will be involved. I believe this to be the best solution to all the conditions that bind...us. It holds you true to your oath, it helps many unhappy vampires and it's the safest way to dissipate the Power, now that we've lost Trent." He leaned deeper into his chair, lifting a thin hand to invite Elena to present her objections. He didn't miss Samar's muttered mutinous, "I _knew_ he was trying to manipulate me into doing something. I just _knew_ it," but his attention was fixed on the blonde girl who still had outrage and defiance burning in her blue eyes.
"And will the vampires be told of the risk? That they might not make the change alive, that they might die?" she asked bitterly. He held on to his calm, not letting his impatience and contempt for her tangled ethics and morals show through.
"No," he replied but continued before she could harangue, "Because there is no such risk."
"What are you trying to pull?" she surged out of her chair. "I _told_ you that unless a vampire truly wants to change back into a human and can embrace humanity and its limitation again, they won't survive the Turning." Samar gasped softly from her place in the half-shadows. The tension in the room rose noticeably at Elena's assertion.
"If you will sit down and be still, I will explain how that risk will be eliminated," Jerrick said, hanging to his composure as precariously as Eiran had earlier. Stefan was also sitting forward, nearly quivering with attentiveness. He reached out a hand and drew Elena back into her seat beside him. The blonde resisted briefly before letting herself be placated.
Jerrick paused to be certain all were settled before beginning.
"Elena. You told me that when you try and Turn a vampire, they have to be willing because you need them not only _not_ fight you, but also contributing their energy to the effort. You also said that you don't have enough power to change them on your own. In fact, every time you Turned a vampire, part of your own personal life energy goes into the effort. You used to fall ill each time you changed a vampire." Jerrick saw the way Stefan started, making that connection with the numerous times Elena had 'caught the flu' in their travels. He went on.
"The second step is to make the change stick. At the point near death, the vampire is given a choice between vampirism and humanity. If the vampire cannot accept humanity again, he or she dies with the vampiric part of them. This is the point at which the vampires you Turned in the past failed. Am I correct so far?" he asked, more for endorsement than for correction. Elena jerked her head in a curt nod.
"However," and the one word was imbued with satisfaction. "When you changed the vampires in Antalya, they were neither cooperative nor did they wish to be human. They had all chosen to be vampires of their own free will. But they all made the change because, after you unmade the Old One, _you had enough Power to change them and make the change stick_ – even overriding their will."
Elena's white hands flew to cover her mouth, not quickly enough to muffle her horrified gasp. She buried her face in her hands, suppressing the urge to weep – he could feel the tears tightening her throat. Stefan put an arm around her shoulders but rather than turn her face into his shoulder as she might have once done, she remained stiff and unmoving.
"Elena," Jerrick said, letting his tone gentle. "What's done is done. It's the implications of this that are important. With the risk eliminated, we don't have to worry about killing vampires who haven't the will enough to embrace humanity on their own."
He felt her resolve strengthen at the sound of his voice. ::Yes, good.:: Even hatred had its uses. Her hands fell away from her face and she looked at him piercingly.
"What about the ethics of overriding another being's free will?" she asked, hoarsely. "That phenomena, that _restriction_ was put there _for a reason_; so that the gift could not be abused!"
"Elena, the Turned are here." He uttered each word slowly to emphasize the logic behind it. "They are the ones who could best explain the changes, the pros and cons of being human again. Only the willing ones will be changed – the Turned would allow nothing else, even if I would," he added blandly. The look she shot him almost made him smile. "And if they have trouble adjusting after the change, who better to guide them than the Turned. It is _their_ brotherhood – one that excludes even you." The truth in those words produced a sour look on her face but she kept silent.
No one else seemed to have anything else to say, with each of Elena's objections answered.
"You'll stay away from them," she said finally, bravado in each word. "No mind games and influencing their choice. And I'll see them each individually to make sure they understand what they're getting into," she stipulated. Jerrick inclined his head graciously, knowing that he had won.
"On a purely logistical note," Leon piped up. "Do you mean to herd all these vampires to wherever the next Old One is?"
"A good question," Jerrick nodded approvingly. "And the answer is 'no'. Easier, I think, to bring the Old One to the vampires instead. And there is one who can be conveniently brought," he added meaningfully, looking at Elena and Stefan.
The vampire stared back at him, understanding dawning. He provided the name. "Klaus."
"Who?" Tristan demanded, speaking for the first time.
"An Old One that Elena bound in the spirit realm a year ago," Jerrick explained briefly without taking his eyes off the couple. The silence this time was filled with shocked and slightly grim.
"What about security?" Tristan asked, finally. "I mean, how do you know if some of these vampires are not just plants – spies?"
"What would be their purpose? Who would they want to kill?" Jerrick threw a question back at him without missing a beat.
"Elena," the rash vampire replied instantly.
"Well, they can certainly try," was Jerrick's smooth reply. "They won't succeed."
"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"
"She can't die." That brought Tristan up short; his mouth shut with a snap before he spoke again. "What do you mean, can't die? She's human," he said scoffing.
"Oh, Tristan, shut up. There's a lot you don't know, bro. Just...hush," Samar said almost absently.
"If you're worried about security, you needn't be," Jerrick addressed Tristan's question, forestalling a sibling spat. "I can contain vampires, if need be," he reassured dryly. As if they needed reminding. All five vampires tensed defensively.
Jerrick hid a smile behind his steepled fingers, then pushed himself out of the chair, indicating that their talk was over. "There's nothing to be done now but wait for the Turned to come back. Once that is done, the Old One can be brought here." He saw Elena's head go up alertly. "I'll consult with the witches, Elena. We'll see if your involvement in the summoning is necessary." Their eyes met in silent communication. She nodded.
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* If you read this, if you like it, if you hate it, please let me know! Your feedback _really does_ makes a difference.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
* Author's Note(s)
Date posted: 15 March 2003
* I'm not meeting my own targets. Maybe I ought to target to post twice a week and then maybe I will post once a week. =P
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~ Forty Two ~
The cabin reverberated with the force of the door slamming shut but Samar didn't notice. On the walk back from the main lodge, she had managed to work herself into a near-frenzy of anger and scoffing.
She stormed into the room and was about to continue her march right into her room – passing the living area and leaving all five of its occupants unacknowledged – when she was distracted.
"Welcome back." Makoe's dry, unperturbed greeting unleashed the full force of her temper.
She stopped dead in her tracks. "Just who – what – does he take me for, some gullible child?" she exploded.
Leon asked, "Who?" but she didn't hear, didn't answer. She did an about-face, her eyes passing the faces turned towards her without seeing them. "It was _so_ obviously a setup; the entire scene was staged! He thought he could fool me! Hah! He can think again." She waved her hands to emphasize her words, her facial expressions and tone of voice lending depth to her tirade.
"What is he up to anyway? What did he think I would do? Fall on my knees and beg to be changed?" she said, winding down to a mutter.
"Changed? Changed into what?" Tristan demanded. Samar paid him no more attention than she had Leon. She began pacing agitatedly. "Ask her, he says," she muttered under her breath. "Well, I will!" She stalked to stand in front of the only human in the room.
"Elena," she declared authoritatively, for all that she was addressing her for the first time. The blonde abruptly found herself gazing up the length of a pointed finger and slim arm at the petite female vampire. "You can't change vampires back into humans, can you?"
Instead of the incredulous denial she expected, Samar's question was met with unguarded shock. And a fear that said, more clearly than any words, that Jerrick's claim had been true. The two girls stared at each other and then Samar was stumbling backwards, to collapse in a – thankfully – empty chair. "No...way..." she whispered, still looking at Elena, who was now looking down at her hands clasped on her lap.
Around her, chaos was erupting. Tristan was on his feet, roaring, "_What?_" Leon had sat up, leaning forward intently, also gazing at Elena. Makoe was watching Stefan and there was an open send in a tone as cold as his expression, ::You don't look at all surprised, Salvatore. Have you been holding out on us?::
::I just found out today myself,:: Stefan returned, visibly trying to remain calm. His body, however, was tensed and his stance a trifle protective where he sat beside the subdued-looking Elena.
Samar only registered all this vaguely. Her eyes were fixed on the blonde, but her mind's eye saw something different. Scenes from her previous life; precious, mundane moments, lost forever to a creature of the night. An everyday breakfast with the family in a sunny alcove, smiling faces of friends waving from the car as it pulls away, marathon telephone sessions and joyous jubilation on the first day of summer break, secret dreams about this or that cute guy...
"So Jerrick put her here to change us all into humans while we slept?" Tristan was asking wildly.
"No!" Elena's head came up like a deer's, in one swift, smooth movement. "I only Turn those who want to be human again," she cried. Her vehemence silenced even Tristan. He recovered after a moment to sneer, "Yeah, right. Why should we believe you?"
"Because it's the truth. I _can't_ change you unless you want it wholeheartedly," Elena repeated firmly. "If the vampire rejects the change, he or she will die."
"And if Jerrick simply wanted us dead, we would have been staked long ago," Leon added logically, forestalling further outburst from Tristan. He then added, thoughtfully, "But, to make us human again – what purpose could that serve?"
"Who knows what goes on in that twisted mind? And what's more, who cares?" Tristan raged. "But _she_," and he pointed an accusing finger at Elena, "is _not_ staying here with us." Stefan shifted, interposing himself between Tristan and Elena. But before a full-fledge confrontation could blossom, Samar moved, appearing between them and shoving her brother back into his chair.
"You! Save your stupid paranoia. If it weren't for you, neither of us would be where we are today!"
"What, beautiful, powerful and immortal?" Makoe murmured, watching the siblings with the closest thing he had come to amusement. His mockery was lost in Tristan's outraged rebuttal, "Ex_cuse_ me? Just _how_ am _I_ to blame for this–"
"If it wasn't for your crazy, blood-sucking girlfriend, I would still be human!" she shouted him down, all the force in her small body behind the yell. In the silence that ensued, she went on, raging. "I'd be grown up. I would still have a family I could spend time with. Instead, just because I walked in on the two of you when she bit you, that _girl_ decided to bite me too! I never had any choice in the matter–"
"Oh, cut the 'poor me' speech, Samar," Tristan interrupted her in turn. A sneer curled his lip and he looked unimpressed. "I don't see what you're complaining about, anyway. You're stronger, faster and better looking than you used to be. Your freckles are gone, not to mention your zits; you can beat up just about any guy who annoys you – and that's almost _every_ guy; you'll never get sick and you'll live forever. You see better in the dark, you hear better – I don't see what you're complaining about!" Tristan repeated exasperatedly.
She was silent for such a long time that Tristan, lying still where he had landed in a sprawl, peered up at her carefully. Her head was bent, streaked hair falling to hide her face.
"What am I complaining about?" she asked softly from behind the curtain of hair. She looked up and Tristan found himself the focus of a slightly mad, malevolent gaze. Her words started low, but increased in force and volume with each sentence.
"I'm complaining that I lost my family. I'm complaining that I had to disappear and leave my whole life behind. That I can never see or talk to Mom and Dad again. That I lost all my friends and everything I held dear in one day. I'm complaining that I will never be able to grow up and grow old. That I'll never fall in love, get married and have kids. That I can never go out into the daylight without this stupid _rock_ strapped to me." She pulled the chain from around her neck and threw it at him. "That I can't just have a salad or a burger when I'm hungry. That I can't be _human_."
Stefan and Elena were staring at her, Leon looked concerned and faintly compassionate. Makoe's eyes were hooded, his expression closed and revealing nothing. Tristan looked grim and stubborn, but there was a flicker of ...something in the back of his eyes as he stared up at his sister. She crossed her arms, lips twisting in a bitter line.
"But I guess you can't see that with your head so far up your ass," she spat and then stormed off to her room, shutting the door with a slam that warned against anyone trying to follow her.
* * *
Eiran walked quietly, lost in thought, only half his attention focused on threading the way to his room. He was exhausted, almost too much so to think coherently. The recent upheavals were the cause, of course. Untenably, the very same events required him to have his wits about him and a clear mind to think out its implications.
Unrest stirred his soul. He knew he would not experience peace until he had sorted out and reconciled his emotions, which currently lay in a tangled web.
Uppermost in his mind was his unease with Jerrick's latest gambit. Eiran knew full well that Jerrick was trying to force Elena into doing his bidding. The witch was a ruthless master of manipulation. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. In spite of that, Eiran followed his direction because Jerrick's pitiless determination would eventually free Elena of her promise. And that was enough for Eiran.
So he would leave tomorrow, with the rest of the Turned to seek vampires who wanted to be human again. Jerrick had instructed that no hint was to be given of the Old Ones' involvement in this. An absent part of Eiran wondered just how the Turned would convince the other vampires of the truth in their claims. Unless those vampires had known the individual Turned while he or she had been a vampire...
He reached his room and paused, one hand on the door, to glance at the vacant room across the hall. Elena was with the vampires instead of here, where he could most readily reach her if the need arose. But... it was no longer his place to answer her needs.
"Give her some time with Stefan," had been Jerrick's placid explanation when Eiran had inquired. "To renew her ties with him and remind her of her resolve." The young Turned now wondered if the witch's latest ploy involving the young female vampire did not have something to do with his choice of living arrangement.
::Elena...:: he thought wistfully.
With a slight twitch of his shoulders, he turned the knob and entered his room. Yes, part of his emotional turmoil had to do with the fact that Stefan was back at her side. Eiran had known better than to expect her to return his feelings, but at least in the past month, he had been close to her, had been her confidant and closest friend. Now, he had to distance himself and part of him rebelled at the notion, wanting instead to stand and challenge the vampire–
::Fool!:: the sensible side of him shouted, every bit as vehement as the mutinous, emotional part of him. ::She loves _him_. Antagonize him? Make her choose between him and you? That would destroy any bonds of friendship and trust you have with her!::
He went to the window. Through the dense wood outside, he fancied he saw a glimmer of light from the vampires' cabin. ::I should be happy for her,:: he told himself weakly. He remembered the scene he had walked into the night before. It was his dream – turned horribly wrong; Elena clasping a dark-haired man to her, joy smoothing her beautiful face into soft lines. Except that the man who held her was not him, but Stefan Salvatore.
And then, while he had stood, too paralyzed with horror and shock to act, Taura and Eiran had arrived and Elena had gotten shot protecting Stefan. Eiran's eyes closed tight as he remembered the incident and self-loathing again flooded him. Not since he had held Grace's limp body in his arms had he felt so wretched.
::You have Stefan to protect you now, lady,:: he told Elena silently, eyes opening again. ::He loves you and he will guard you well. So long as he remembers to hunt regularly,:: he added, remembering the interlude with the vampire. Stefan had looked so utterly taken aback at Eiran's claiming to have been a vampire once. Apparently, Elena had not told him about the Turned. But then, perhaps there hadn't been time. Things had moved so quickly since their reunion.
Shrewdly, instinctively, Eiran could guess what thoughts, what incredible hopes, were going through the vampire's head now. If Grace were still alive, Eiran would have been overjoyed at the chance of becoming human again and living out the rest of his mortal life with her.
Eiran turned away, crossing the room to flick on a bedside light. So many regrets to let go of, so many changes to adjust to.
He supposed, as he stuffed some clothes and necessities into an overnight bag, that this search for vampires was a blessing, in a way. It removed him from the present situation, gave him some time to lay his uneasiness and shattered dreams to rest.
* * *
The knock on the door was soft, yet not completely hesitant. Samar deliberately ignored the sound and heard the knob turn after a brief wait. She looked up, expecting to see Leon, and went still in surprise and defensiveness.
Elena quietly shut the door behind her and, without waiting for an invitation, approached the bed where the younger girl was sprawled on her stomach. Caught off guard, Samar was torn between lashing out in anger at the intrusion and a desire to gather up the commonplace, precious items spread out around her and hide them.
She scrambled onto her knees. "What do you want?" she demanded, pride forbidding her from frantically shoving the keepsakes out of sight.
The blonde looked at her and Samar had the eerie impression that she wasn't looking at Elena. Or at least, not _just_ Elena but some...thing else as well. "I think the question is, 'what do _you_ want,'" the blonde said with a strange detachment.
"What does that mean?" Samar fired back, unnerved. The steady, cool lapis eyes blinked and suddenly, the sense of _other_ was gone, leaving only a slightly disoriented-looking Elena. "Samar," she said belatedly. A quick glance around seemed to remind her of where she was and what she was doing there. "I felt your...yearning." Cryptic words, but Samar understood them all the same.
After secluding herself in her room, she had pulled out her treasures and lost herself in reminiscence. Homesickness and nostalgia had clogged her throat more than once and thoughts of asking Elena to change her back into a human – what had she called it? _Turn_ her – had danced in her mind.
She looked down at the photo album lying open beside her right foot and realized that she was still clutching the stuffed moose against her. Elena had followed her gaze. "May I sit down?" she asked, looking coolly poised and self-assured. Samar's gaze fell on the sketchbook, which was – thankfully – closed, and nodded once curtly.
The blonde sank onto the bed, curling one leg under her and facing Samar. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you," Elena said quietly. Samar looked up sharply to see a wry smile touch her lips. "Well...maybe a little." Seeing Samar's skeptical look, Elena's smile grew. "Stefan didn't tell you our story?" Samar gave her a 'what story?' look and Elena related how she and the vampire had met. By the time she finished, Samar was reeling in shock. The cool blonde took on whole new dimensions as the information changed her perspective of this 'enemy of Old Ones'. She had been human, vampire, spirit. She _did_ understand.
"So, yeah, I think I can relate a little to your situation. Not completely of course; I didn't spend the last twenty years looking like a fourteen-year-old," Elena finished.
Suddenly, Samar had the most bizarre urge to throw herself into Elena's arms and sob her heart out. Fortunately, she quelled the crazy impulse just short of action and merely nodded. Another spell of quiet followed.
Elena prompted her, "Your desire drew me here. _Do_ you really want to be Turned? Not all vampires who are made without consent want to go back to being human."
Samar felt her lips twist. "I don't know," she all but snapped irritably. "Even if I _did_ become human again, things can't go back to the way they were. How am I going to explain to my parents why I haven't aged a day since I disappeared twenty years ago? Not to mention what I'm going to say about Tristan." She dejectedly thumped a small fist onto her pillow.
Elena nodded, accepting those arguments. She threw the young vampire another question, "Those are the practicalities that need to be considered. But what about you, as a person? Do you hate _being_ a vampire? Do you want to be human, with all its limitations, after being so much...'more'? It sounded a little like that when you were tearing your brother to strips," there was a smile in her voice, "but I don't feel the pull as strongly now."
In answer, Samar threw her hands up in the air, exasperation and confusion in the volatile gesture. Looking faintly impatient, even sardonic, Elena said, "Well, there's no rush yet. Take your time and consider." She made to rise and Samar suddenly remembered what she had seen at the main building.
"Elena, Jerrick's sending out the Turned tomorrow to find vampires. He says it's the only safe way for you to expend the Power left by unmaking the Old Ones. He made it sound like their sacred duty or something to bring vampires back. Even gave them a quota – three vamps a piece," she said in a rush, her tone turning cynical towards the end. Her words had a scary effect; the blonde's expression grew furious and Samar was reminded that this was the girl she had seen shining to rival the sun just the night before.
Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. "Thank you for the information," she said curtly. Samar half-expected her to say something ominous like, "I'll deal with Jerrick," but she simply stood up and turned to the door, leashed rage in her movements. She took a step, then stopped and looked over her shoulder.
"By the way, here," Elena dropped the lapis pendant and chain she had thrown earlier onto the bed. "You'll still need this while you're weighing your options," she said. "Good night."
* * *
The Turned were assembling. Jerrick stood at the main entrance to lodge, watching impassively as they loaded whatever belongings they had decided they needed into their vehicles. The not-quite human faces were solemn and thoughtful as minds turned to their task.
One by one, they left, with a lift of a hand, a nod, a rallying call. Only a handful remained when Elena arrived.
"Stop this." All activity ceased at her commanding voice. Glad faces turned in her direction, like flowers to the sun. One or two ducked their heads in acknowledgement at the sight of her; some of the Turned still held her in reverence, despite her efforts to dissuade such treatment.
She barely noticed them, her attention fixed on him, a quiet, still figure on the top step. She strode up to him and he was struck by how much she seemed like Crystal now, with her emotions charging her movements until the air fairly crackled with Power. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, challengingly.
"Making preparations for the next strike," he said imperturbably. The vampires had accompanied her. He glanced past her to meet each of their eyes where they stood at the foot of the stairs. Around them, the Turned were like statues. This was the first time they had witnessed a confrontation between their revered savior and their wise leader and they were arrested at the thought of discord between the two. ::She's stopping us? But I thought this was what she wanted us to do..?:: he caught a whisper of wondering. Doubt began to creep into the open faces.
"You are _not_ going to make me Turn vampires against their will just to continue the task," she said flatly. In the quiet of early morning, her voice carried to all the ears of those gathered.
"No, I'm not. The Turned will find vampires who wish to be human again. They are the best agents to do this as they are living proof that vampires can be human again," he replied, with a small sweeping gesture to indicate the few remaining ex-vampires.
"And did you tell them about–" she broke off as someone emerged from the lodge behind him. Eiran barely paused as he nodded a greeting to her, carrying a small duffel bag. "Eiran," she caught his hand as he passed. To Jerrick, the way he stiffened at her touch told an eloquent and poignant tale. "Wait. There's been a change of plans," she added, her words heavy with meaning, her eyes on Jerrick. They snapped to Eiran's face when he spoke clearly.
"No, Elena."
Her grip loosened in surprise and he took the opportunity to walk on. He tossed the duffel into the backseat of the car, shut the door and paused to sweep the other Turned with his self-contained gaze. As if some unspoken signal had passed, they all resumed their activity. Jerrick could still read the uncertainty in their stance, however. That was not good; they needed to be convinced and full of purpose when they went about their mission, not filled with doubts and questions. He snaked out a tendril of Power, and laced a compulsion to hold them in place, letting none leave. Let them linger over _this_ task a little longer, check their engine condition one last time, idle a moment over _there_...
Elena took a dozen rapid steps towards Eiran. "What?" she demanded in a whisper. "Are you siding with Jerrick, against me?" Betrayal colored her tone with jagged spikes of almost-pain. Once again, the lingering Turned froze. The vampires remained a silent and motionless quintet thus far.
Eiran had been about to slide into the driver's seat. At her question, he faced her. Their gazes met and locked. Jerrick suppressed a sigh and a smile simultaneously, feeling the ex-vampire's reaction to Elena's words and her tone. Eiran was resisting the urge to cover the four paces that separated them. His mind clearly pictured how soft her hair would be against his fingers, her body pressed against his, their lips joined–
"Never, milady," he said softly. "This for you, only. We," and he looked quickly at his fellow Turned, "Won't let you put our interest before yours. This is what you need and we will do it with a willing heart." His words settled the alarms jangling in Jerrick's mind. The rest of the Turned relaxed, their doubts allayed, their spirits and resolve renewed. ::Good...Good.::
Elena took another step closer to him, "You don't know what you're doing–" she protested.
"We know," Eiran denied, with a quick shake of his head.
Another step, "No, you don't understand–"
Eiran closed the distance. "Elena," he caught her hand in both of his, a gesture almost faster than the eye could follow. "Trust us. We won't fail you." Jerrick felt his will weakening. "We'll be back soon." He let go of her just as the last thread of control snapped and whirled. "Move out," he said gruffly, his tone uncharacteristically commanding. Jerrick had to suppress another smile.
He released the compulsion, and within seconds, the last of the Turned started their cars and left the remote lodge. Elena watched them till the last disappeared from view and the sound of engines faded. Then she turned back to Jerrick. He took the initiative this time and motioned for her and the vampires to enter the main building. "We need to talk."
He led them into an old-fashioned 'den' decorated like a rustic hunting cabin, complete with trophy heads mounted high in the walls and a fire in the spacious hearth. He gave them just enough time to seat themselves to their liking before opening the conversation, preempting Elena's outburst.
"Samar has already told you I intend for you to channel the Power left by unmaking an Old One through your gift of Turning vampires. I've already assured you that only those who wish to be Turned will be involved. I believe this to be the best solution to all the conditions that bind...us. It holds you true to your oath, it helps many unhappy vampires and it's the safest way to dissipate the Power, now that we've lost Trent." He leaned deeper into his chair, lifting a thin hand to invite Elena to present her objections. He didn't miss Samar's muttered mutinous, "I _knew_ he was trying to manipulate me into doing something. I just _knew_ it," but his attention was fixed on the blonde girl who still had outrage and defiance burning in her blue eyes.
"And will the vampires be told of the risk? That they might not make the change alive, that they might die?" she asked bitterly. He held on to his calm, not letting his impatience and contempt for her tangled ethics and morals show through.
"No," he replied but continued before she could harangue, "Because there is no such risk."
"What are you trying to pull?" she surged out of her chair. "I _told_ you that unless a vampire truly wants to change back into a human and can embrace humanity and its limitation again, they won't survive the Turning." Samar gasped softly from her place in the half-shadows. The tension in the room rose noticeably at Elena's assertion.
"If you will sit down and be still, I will explain how that risk will be eliminated," Jerrick said, hanging to his composure as precariously as Eiran had earlier. Stefan was also sitting forward, nearly quivering with attentiveness. He reached out a hand and drew Elena back into her seat beside him. The blonde resisted briefly before letting herself be placated.
Jerrick paused to be certain all were settled before beginning.
"Elena. You told me that when you try and Turn a vampire, they have to be willing because you need them not only _not_ fight you, but also contributing their energy to the effort. You also said that you don't have enough power to change them on your own. In fact, every time you Turned a vampire, part of your own personal life energy goes into the effort. You used to fall ill each time you changed a vampire." Jerrick saw the way Stefan started, making that connection with the numerous times Elena had 'caught the flu' in their travels. He went on.
"The second step is to make the change stick. At the point near death, the vampire is given a choice between vampirism and humanity. If the vampire cannot accept humanity again, he or she dies with the vampiric part of them. This is the point at which the vampires you Turned in the past failed. Am I correct so far?" he asked, more for endorsement than for correction. Elena jerked her head in a curt nod.
"However," and the one word was imbued with satisfaction. "When you changed the vampires in Antalya, they were neither cooperative nor did they wish to be human. They had all chosen to be vampires of their own free will. But they all made the change because, after you unmade the Old One, _you had enough Power to change them and make the change stick_ – even overriding their will."
Elena's white hands flew to cover her mouth, not quickly enough to muffle her horrified gasp. She buried her face in her hands, suppressing the urge to weep – he could feel the tears tightening her throat. Stefan put an arm around her shoulders but rather than turn her face into his shoulder as she might have once done, she remained stiff and unmoving.
"Elena," Jerrick said, letting his tone gentle. "What's done is done. It's the implications of this that are important. With the risk eliminated, we don't have to worry about killing vampires who haven't the will enough to embrace humanity on their own."
He felt her resolve strengthen at the sound of his voice. ::Yes, good.:: Even hatred had its uses. Her hands fell away from her face and she looked at him piercingly.
"What about the ethics of overriding another being's free will?" she asked, hoarsely. "That phenomena, that _restriction_ was put there _for a reason_; so that the gift could not be abused!"
"Elena, the Turned are here." He uttered each word slowly to emphasize the logic behind it. "They are the ones who could best explain the changes, the pros and cons of being human again. Only the willing ones will be changed – the Turned would allow nothing else, even if I would," he added blandly. The look she shot him almost made him smile. "And if they have trouble adjusting after the change, who better to guide them than the Turned. It is _their_ brotherhood – one that excludes even you." The truth in those words produced a sour look on her face but she kept silent.
No one else seemed to have anything else to say, with each of Elena's objections answered.
"You'll stay away from them," she said finally, bravado in each word. "No mind games and influencing their choice. And I'll see them each individually to make sure they understand what they're getting into," she stipulated. Jerrick inclined his head graciously, knowing that he had won.
"On a purely logistical note," Leon piped up. "Do you mean to herd all these vampires to wherever the next Old One is?"
"A good question," Jerrick nodded approvingly. "And the answer is 'no'. Easier, I think, to bring the Old One to the vampires instead. And there is one who can be conveniently brought," he added meaningfully, looking at Elena and Stefan.
The vampire stared back at him, understanding dawning. He provided the name. "Klaus."
"Who?" Tristan demanded, speaking for the first time.
"An Old One that Elena bound in the spirit realm a year ago," Jerrick explained briefly without taking his eyes off the couple. The silence this time was filled with shocked and slightly grim.
"What about security?" Tristan asked, finally. "I mean, how do you know if some of these vampires are not just plants – spies?"
"What would be their purpose? Who would they want to kill?" Jerrick threw a question back at him without missing a beat.
"Elena," the rash vampire replied instantly.
"Well, they can certainly try," was Jerrick's smooth reply. "They won't succeed."
"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"
"She can't die." That brought Tristan up short; his mouth shut with a snap before he spoke again. "What do you mean, can't die? She's human," he said scoffing.
"Oh, Tristan, shut up. There's a lot you don't know, bro. Just...hush," Samar said almost absently.
"If you're worried about security, you needn't be," Jerrick addressed Tristan's question, forestalling a sibling spat. "I can contain vampires, if need be," he reassured dryly. As if they needed reminding. All five vampires tensed defensively.
Jerrick hid a smile behind his steepled fingers, then pushed himself out of the chair, indicating that their talk was over. "There's nothing to be done now but wait for the Turned to come back. Once that is done, the Old One can be brought here." He saw Elena's head go up alertly. "I'll consult with the witches, Elena. We'll see if your involvement in the summoning is necessary." Their eyes met in silent communication. She nodded.
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