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: 8 April 2003
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~ Forty Five ~
The Old One stopped writhing against the multitude of ghostly hands that tugged and grabbed and clawed at him, realizing that they had melted away like a bad dream. He opened his eyes in disbelief and looked around the small, dimly lit wood cabin he found himself in.
The threadbare, tan raincoat, the messy, almost-white shock of hair and the overall grimy appearance were precisely the same as they had been that night in the fire-ridden clearing in Virginia. So were the electric blue eyes that locked on Stefan with such intensity.
He smiled, an unpleasant, bloodthirsty baring of teeth.
"Salvatore! What a _pleasant_ surprise!" The voice was also as he remembered it; false joviality thinly covering cutting malevolence. He tugged at his clothes, like a man brushing himself off. "To what do I owe this?" A sweep of his hand indicated the unexpected emancipation as well as the meeting.
Stefan did not answer. At a silent signal, the thus-far unnoticed witches turned and filed silently out of the cabin. He heard a step beside and behind him as Elena came out of the shadows and showed herself.
The reaction she drew was instantaneous. "_You!_" hissed the Old One, canines elongating and body tensing to spring. If Klaus hated Stefan, he loathed Elena. It was she who had imprisoned him in the spirit realm for the past year.
Elena took another step forward so that she was just slightly in front of Stefan. Her face was serene as she gazed at the Old One. She simply nodded at his exclamation. "Yes. Me."
"You're dead! What are you doing here?" Klaus demanded furiously, incensed that she should be alive while he had been held on the other plane. "And why did you bring me here?" he added, suddenly suspicious.
"To obliterate you permanently," Elena said calmly. Klaus stared at her for a full five seconds and then he exploded into mirth. Stefan tensed defensively as Klaus' laughter thundered to the vaulted ceiling of the cabin but a quick glance at Elena showed that she was not at all disturbed by the wild display. Eventually, the manic roars died down to a gasping chuckle.
"You little mortal _fools_," the Old One panted. "You brought me back here to _kill_ me? Don't you know that _I can never die_?" He lapsed back into insane chortles, as if the joke was on them. And as far as he knew, it _was_. Elena dispelled his illusions quickly, with simple, quiet words.
"Not kill. Unmake. Kellas Rahba."
The laughter died without a sputter. This time, the immortal's stunned expression was a mixture of astonishment – and fear. His nerves wound to harp-string tightness, Stefan kept his eyes firmly on Klaus – Kellas Rahba. Elena had told him what to expect. She would know the Old One's Name when she saw him. And when she revealed that she knew...
"_E'ya tenua_–" Klaus breathed unthinkingly, causing Stefan to blink. The Italian vampire was even more astonished when Elena nodded.
"_Mi'eh, naii kentri e'yem kacheyth,_" she said crisply, with no trace of awkwardness as she spoke. Stefan turned his head slightly to look at her, though he was careful to keep Klaus squarely in his line of sight. This, he had heard nothing off. He reached for her mind but found it surrounded by a hard, smooth mental shield that he had never encountered before.
He was instantly alarmed, until he felt a familiar touch on his own mind. ::It is a protection. To keep the Old Ones from influencing her when she deals with them,:: Jerrick explained. Stefan relaxed, taking the lame man's word for truth.
Klaus, meanwhile, had clamped his mouth tightly shut and his nostrils flared. "This is a trick," he snapped.
"No trick, Old One. It ends here," Elena told him, her tone flat.
In a burst of seeming denial, Klaus rushed towards them. He stopped short when he met the invisible wall of the ward, impacting and bouncing off it with the full force of his forward momentum. He stumbled back, dazed and disbelieving as his eyes scanned the air in front of him, as if trying to see the shield of pure force with his eyes. But then, his was control of energy forces; maybe his eyes _could_ perceive lines of power.
Whatever he saw, he collected himself quickly after that and did not attempt to force his way across the barrier. Vivid blue eyes focused beyond the ward and behind Stefan and Elena, searching for something to use as a weapon. Stefan was glad they had emptied the cabin of all contents. Finding no handy projectiles available, Klaus evidently looked further afield.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Klaus' eyes fixed on them and his mouth curved triumphantly. Elena continued to watch him with a stoic expression, unimpressed and coolly unaffected by his machinations. 'Do what you will, give it your best shot; it will make no difference in the end,' her demeanor said silently. Her confidence lent strength to her psychological position.
The rumbling grew louder. Overhead, there was a sudden, sharp crack, as if the heavens tore asunder. The entire cabin reverberated with the force of the strike. And the next. And the next. Each crash threatened to bring the roof down over their heads and tear the entire cabin apart around them.
It began to rain dust and debris. Small chips of wood began falling from the ceiling, then bigger ones. The cabin seemed to groan as the onslaught continued. Then panels in the wall and roof started coming apart. Jagged pieces of wood tore loose from its joining and began streaking through the air madly.
Stefan stepped closer to Elena, eyes darting about to follow the random-seeming movements of the projectiles. Outside, thunder continued to growl sullenly. Through the window, the night began to take on a ruddy light.
"I will burn this place down around us if I have to," Klaus cackled wildly. With the whites showing all around his eyes, he looked truly mad. "_You_ will die and _I_ will walk out of here without a scratch. But that would be too easy." His tone... twisted as he focused his frenzied gaze on the vampire. "No, dying in a fire would be entirely too easy for you."
Stefan caught the sly glance Klaus threw Elena and saw the bit of timber stop its random zipping to fly straight at her. He reached out with vampiric quickness and knocked the speeding projectile aside. He suppressed a scream, hissing as the splintered leading edge slammed into his left hand. The length of wood clattered to the ground, once again inanimate, but leaving wicked splinters embedded in Stefan's flesh. He was hardly aware of Klaus' mad laughter, distracted by the searing pain of his palm.
He did not notice the sharp, two-inch thick makeshift lance until it was too late.
It slammed into his right shoulder, driving him back with enough force to pin him to the beam behind him.
"_Stefan!_" Elena's horrified scream pealed in his ears. Gasping from the pain, he forced his eyes open to see her standing, half turned and blanched with horror at the sight of him riveted to the wooden support pillar. Then she was beside him, frantically looking over the injury. Biting her lip, she grasped the stake, but even that slight movement bleached color from his face and she let go immediately. He noticed, in that clinical part of his mind, that she was trembling. Before he could do more than hiss and flinch, she whirled back to face Klaus, who had a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
"I'll deal with you later, Salvatore. But we can always have some fun first." The gleeful, malicious tones gave Stefan a terrible sense of déjà vu that made his blood run cold in the midst of his painful haze.
Then, he saw the score or so of needle-like fragments that wheeled like a flock of birds to race towards him and embed themselves in his abdomen and legs. He couldn't help it this time; he screamed.
"Stop!" Elena shouted, the sound seeming to come from far, far away. When he managed to open his eyes again, he saw Elena standing at the edge of the ward, her rigid back to him, her fists tight at her sides. There were still plenty of stray missiles that might easily pierce her fragile human body. Stefan's heart pounded and adrenaline shocked him out of his pain stupor. Be careful, he pleaded with her silently, held fast to the pillar. He grasped the impaling piece of wood with his left hand but the splinters in his palm made his grip light and clumsy, which in turn aggravated the stake-wound until his vision blurred with pain.
The air began to smell of smoke, and outside, the sky took on an angry red hue. Her voice sounded like she spoke through clenched teeth, Elena said, "Enough of this."
Helplessly, Stefan saw her step up to the ward and across it. "No!" he breathed fiercely as she walked right up to the grinning Old One, his own agony all but forgotten. His green eyes were feverish as he stared at the scene before him.
The crackling of thunder had given way to an ominous, muffled roar, broken by occasional crashes of branches tearing from trees to fall to the ground. The red glow through the window lit Klaus' face luridly and made the unpleasant smile he gave Elena clearly visible. Elena lifted a hand and placed it on the side of Klaus' neck. Against the red glare of the outside, she began to glow a faint, clean white.
Klaus didn't give her a chance.
He snatched her hand away from him, and squeezed her fingers, twisting her wrist at a cruel angle. He seemed to be forcing her to her knees, pressing her palm backwards until Stefan heard the joint strain horribly. In an abrupt motion, Klaus released the hand, which flopped weakly by Elena's side.
"So good of you to join me," he purred, his smooth tone at odds with the brutal way he grabbed her and pulled her close to thrust his face a fraction of an inch from hers. The fingers circling Elena's arms began to close mercilessly until the snapping sound that reached Stefan's ears did not come from outside the cabin. Elena's gasps of pain filled the cabin.
Klaus released her arms to bury his fingers in the fine gold hair at the back of her head and yanked her upright when she threatened to crumple. He leered, then backhanded her. Her head snapped to one side, but he kept a grip on her hair and jerked her about to face him once again.
He seemed to have completely forgotten Stefan as he gazed down at Elena almost dreamily. "Oh, you have no idea how much and how long I've wanted to do this. For just one chance to reach you and hold you in my hands." Almost casually, he drove a fist into her ribcage, breaking bones with a shockingly loud snap. Stefan strained against the spike holding him in place, almost heedless of the pain flooding him and the blood soaking through his clothes to drip onto the floor.
"But, you'll learn," Klaus was saying, wrenching Elena's face up to meet his again. "Now I can finish this once and for all. Starting with you, followed by your boyfriend over there, then his upstart brother, and that impudent little redheaded minx of a friend of yours." He laughed nastily. "Who knows? I may even keep her for a while if she amuses me."
He shook his head slowly, mockingly pitiful. "Whatever tricks you have up your sleeve," he said, fingers of his free hand trailing down her cheek, then closing on the delicate bones of her jaw. The sick crunching sound that followed was all Stefan seemed to hear. "You are still only a human," he finished viciously.
"Elena!" Stefan shouted. Hardly aware of what he was doing, only focused on his goal, the fingers of his left hand closed around the rivet and pulled. He might have fainted momentarily from the pain but he found himself stumbling heedlessly across the room. He barged through the ward and knocked the unprepared Old One aside with his drunken, uncoordinated momentum. He caught Elena in his arms as she swayed and holding her carefully, fell to his knees. Blood poured from her nose and mouth, her jaw was misshapen, slack and quickly turning an ugly shade of purple and her arms and body were frighteningly limp. "Elena," he whispered, a note of question in his tone. She was still glowing, he noticed. And he knew what he had to do.
A shadow loomed over them. Stefan turned his head to glare at Klaus with almost uncontainable rage. As gently as he could, he laid Elena on the ground and rose unsteadily to his feet. He vaguely realized that his left hand was clenched around the stake that had recently been lodged in his right shoulder.
"Come to join the fun, Salvatore? You always were a jealous one. Never wanted to share. That's what started this entire problem in the first place, but do you learn?" The Old One shook his head sadly, then look wide-eyed surprised as a stake lodged itself in his throat.
Stefan didn't give him a chance to recover. Hanging on to his coordination and strength precariously, he attacked. A kick behind the knees and some rough twisting of limbs laid the Original on the ground and immobile.
Flat on his stomach, craning his neck back to keep the end of the stake from driving further into his throat, with his arms and legs yanked uncomfortably behind him, Klaus barely took a second to recover and began struggling to get free. But even for an immortal, having a piece of wood piercing his windpipe must have been an uncomfortable and distracting feeling.
Stefan sat on his back for good measure. Carefully taking Elena hand, he placed it on the Old One, covering it with his own and holding it in place when it started to slip off lifelessly. Spots danced before his eyes in earnest now from the lack of blood but he dared not show any weakness.
What followed, Stefan couldn't know completely. All he saw was the way Elena's aura spread to envelope Klaus, who was writhing beneath Stefan futilely. The stake in his throat turned his words into furious gurgles, but did little to hamper his energy. Stefan hung on with all his strength, gritting his teeth against the cry that threatened to tear from him as the struggling and exertions shifted the wooden splinters still in his legs and abdomen.
After what felt like an agonizingly long time, Klaus' entire body was sheathed in light. His gurgles turning into howls of denial as his body seemed to loose substance and dissolve like so much smoke. Stefan merely held him until there was nothing left to hold and he found himself sitting on the floor of the cabin alone with Elena. Outside, the angry red glow had not faded.
"Elena," he croaked, body loosening with pain and lightheadedness now that the danger was over. He blinked, taking a moment to realize that they had done it. They had done it! Klaus was no more!
He inched towards her as quickly as he could, moving like a geezer now that battle tension had melted away and left him weak. As carefully as he could, he gathered her up in his arms. Her wide, staring eyes momentarily terrified him, but then he realized she was still breathing.
Blood. Too much blood. Stefan vaguely realized that he was staring at the little rivers of blood running down her white skin. He needed blood. He and Elena were staining each other scarlet. It was hard to tell who was bleeding where anymore. Stefan's shoulder started throbbing in time with the pounding of his pulse in his ears.
Movement in the periphery of his vision broke his half-tranced stated. He lifted his head tiredly. A tall, unimposing redheaded man and a woman with black hair and blue eyes stood nearby. The man waved a hand and his mouth moved soundlessly and then the pair stepped closer. The woman murmured words that didn't register with the vampire. "He's going into shock...don't know if I can heal all this in time...Come on, Elena, give me a line here..." He heard the words but didn't understand them.
Then slowly, he felt a warmth flowing through him, a gentle wave that carried pain away with it when it left. He blinked, lucidity returning. Green eyes flicked from Madelene Ernst who was still bent over the figure cradled in his arms, to Jerrick, standing quietly to one side.
Before Stefan could find words to speak, Elena stirred, capturing all his attention. Her expression – the glimpse of it he caught as she rose – was abstracted and strangely impersonal. Alien.
::She is holding the Old One's residual Power in check. Do nothing to distract her,:: Jerrick counseled.
Elena was still covered with blood but seemed completely healed as she walked towards the door of the cabin without a backward glance, moving with even, unhurried steps. Maddy remained kneeling in front of Stefan for a moment, head bowed in exhaustion. Even with Power at her disposal, healing required a lot of effort. And the wounds she had just healed on them both were anything but trivial.
Jerrick started after Elena with his limping stride. Stefan rotated his shoulder experimentally, then touched the healer's elbow, leaving a stain. He stared, then looked down at himself. He look like he'd just bathed in blood. "Thank you," he said quietly. Her head shifted in a faint nod of acknowledgement. He rose to follow Elena and Jerrick.
* * *
The wood was burning. His uneven stride faltered as his eyes caught on the flaming limbs. The cabin stood safely away from the stand of trees, fortunately, so there was little immediate danger of it burning down around Elena and Stefan.
Another great branch tore from the tree trunk with a nerve-grating cry and crashed to the ground. Suppressing the foreign urge to spin raw Power into dousing the flames, Jerrick forced himself to focus on Elena and resume his limping track after her. Even as he started moving again, a handful of Turned came running up, unrolling a heavy fire hose as they went. Jerrick waved them away when they started at the sight of Elena covered with blood. Behind him, Stefan emerged from the lodge and half-ran to catch up.
They followed Elena to the vampire encampment. Jerrick's pale blue eyes swept the scene before them; the vampires were spread out in the open space among the cabins, most of them sitting on blankets or bare grass. They had been fully briefed on what to expect.
"As it was when you were changed to vampires," he had told them, "So it is now. You will lose consciousness; your body will be weakened to the point of death, then the transformation will take place. When you will awaken, you will be Turned."
Now the tension in the air was palpable, as was the fear. The unease skyrocketed when Elena came into view, still bloody from her encounter with Kellas Rahba, although she showed no sign of injury. The gathered vampires stirred uneasily, a restless murmur rippling through them.
Heedless of the furor she caused, Elena stepped up to the relative middle of the field, looking at the near three-score vampires with sightless eyes. Stefan stopped, standing alone in the middle of the path leading into the encampment, a gory figure that did nothing to soothe the uneasiness among the gathered. His four companions formed part of the ring at the edge of the encampment along with the witches and the rest of the Turned. Jerrick had to wave the Turned down a second time when some made to come forward, shock and horror on their faces. He heard the whisper of a telepathic conversation between the five vampires but paid it no heed. His attention was on Elena.
The air felt heavy with force as Jerrick limped to take his place almost directly behind her. She stood arrow-straight and still glowed faintly. Everything seemed to pause momentarily, as if bracing itself for what was to come.
Jerrick shut his eyes and reached out to touch one mind among the many... There. A young girl, terrified of what she was. She wanted to be human again. She wanted this nightmare to end.
The gift within Elena roused, as if to a silent call. Something seemed to open its eyes and take in the assembly. Jerrick, watching, saw it tap into the seething whirlpool of Power that Elena so carefully controlled. It... shrunk in on itself, like a cat crouching to spring, and _leapt_–
The young female vampire dropped like a bird shot in mid-flight. Even as Power coiled around the inert form and sunk to the very core of the body, Jerrick's ears caught the startled – in some cases, horrified – gasps. Quickly, he sought out another mind – one dawning with hope amid the fear. The man collapsed abruptly as people began to whisper that the first girl no longer breathed. As attention turned to the man, Jerrick sought and found a third willing mind.
And so it went. As he had hoped, the mob sentiment snowballed towards hope and desire, calling Elena's gift more quickly with each passing second, until they were the only two upright bodies left in the middle of the clearing.
As the last tendril of Power wrapped itself around a vampire and disappeared, Elena came back into herself and swayed on her feet. Jerrick knew better than to touch her. Stefan was quick in coming forward to do the honors.
"Stefan," she gasped softly and nearly lost her balance turning too fast to stare at him. "Your wounds–!" She stared, wide-eyed and horrified at his encrusted clothes. No longer the coolly detached being who had left the wood cabin, she was only Elena Gilbert now.
"Maddy healed them before she took care of yours. I'm fine," he reassured soothingly. "Yours were the worse injuries," he added, catching her as she swayed again. "Come on. You need to rest."
And you, Jerrick thought to him, need to hunt. Even as he limped away, leaving the couple to fuss over each other, he hadn't missed the careful control in the vampire's tone. Wordlessly, Jerrick retreated to the privacy of his own room, to keep watch over the new Turned from afar as they underwent their change.
As he settled into his chair and sent searching tendrils of thought out, the first of the vampires to fall drew a shuddering breath.
* * *
"Well. Are you satisfied with how things...ah...turned out?"
Jerrick paused delicately at the slight pun. Elena was not amused. She was seated beside Stefan in the den with Jerrick the next day, to see to the next steps in their plan. Or rather, Jerrick's plan.
The newly Turned seemed all right. Every one had awaken in good health the night before. Some were outright joyful and delighted with their return to – relative – humanity. Others were a little shaken, but no one had broken down and tried to kill themselves. Yet.
"It's a little early to tell," Elena said flatly. Beside her, Stefan was still as a statue, alert, poised, silently supportive.
Jerrick rested his temple against a hand he propped onto the arm of the chair and regarded her with his head tilted. "I was referring to the channeling of Power. Is it not the mutually beneficial arrangement I promised? I truly think this is why you were given the ability to Turn. The melding of both tasks is too seamless to be otherwise."
Elena's nose twitched, not quite a scoffing sniff. "That is yet to be seen." She hadn't forgotten the fifty odd vampires she had changed against their will in Turkey. She was still waiting to see how these newly changed ex-vampires dealt with the transformation, still looking for a hidden catch in Jerrick's seemingly perfect plan. With an impatient toss of her head, she asked abruptly, "What's next?"
Jerrick leaned back against his chair leisurely, lacing his fingers over one knee. "I thought we'd give the new Turned a few days to settle down and adapt. Some of the original Turned can set out looking for vampires but the rest will be needed to support the new ones for the time being. Perhaps by the middle or end of the week, we can send them out in pairs to join the search." He paused before adding, "I will leave to retrieve the next target at the end of the week."
Elena's head reared. "You're going alone?" she asked sharply. She noticed that he said 'I' and not 'we'.
The unassuming-looking redheaded man wagged his head from side to side, an ambiguous gesture. "Not entirely. I will need perhaps a couple of the Turned and some of the witches. And perhaps I'll call some old friends." He smiled faintly, a gesture Elena did not find reassuring at all. In casual tones, he commented "I hear things have been rather quiet at the Baron place. Perhaps Elsa and Jason would like a working holiday."
Lapis lazuli eyes narrowed. "You're playing with fire, stealing Crystal's hunters away from her," she warned.
"It's their choice. She doesn't own them. Neither do I force them to come along," Jerrick said mildly. Something in his too-calm tone, however, hinted of impatience.
Elena subsided reluctantly and pursued a different vein of thought. "Why am I not going along to get the Old One? And where is he?"
"England," Jerrick said briefly, answering the second question first. "As to the other," and his blue eyes leveled on hers calmly. "Can you contain an Original?"
She drew breath to answer then considered the question and shook her head mutely. Jerrick nodded once. "Your task lies elsewhere," he said gently, sounding almost consoling or contrite over his pointed question. "I'll manage, I think, with some help in practical matters. Which is why I'm taking the Turned, witches and hunters with me."
Discontentment settled in her stomach and left a niggling feeling in the back of her head. Elena paused to try and identify the reason for her turmoil. The only thing that came to mind was the fact that, for the first time, she was not being directly included in dealing with an Old One.
That was silly, she told herself. Jerrick can handle it. It was he who had brought about their downfall in the first place! She looked up at him, momentarily letting her inherent animosity and mistrust of him slip away. The lame, mild man looked back at her, patiently waiting for her to speak.
"You're leaving at the end of the week?" He nodded. "How long will you be gone?"
He shrugged to that question. "It depends on how successful my operatives are in actually pinpointing him. Three days, five perhaps."
"We'll have to hold on to the vampires until you get back. That might cause problems," she said thoughtfully. "Their temper's tricky. Perhaps you ought to leave earlier?"
She was given a sardonic look through pale blue eyes. "Controlling vampires is easier than keeping an Old One contained," Jerrick said dryly. "I'd rather have the vampires wait for the Old One than the reverse. I'm sure there's plenty that can be done while I'm away. Preparing the vampires for what life as Turned will be like, for one." He rose, signaling an end to the conversation. "As soon as I return, the unmaking and Turning will commence," he told her. The mild tone did not fool her; he was _telling_ her how it was to be.
Elena was not at all happy at being ordered, even in so polite and subtle a manner, but she bit the inside of her cheek and nodded agreement to his words. "So what do we do now?"
Jerrick spoke with his back to them as he limped painstakingly to the door. "As I said, help the new Turned to adapt and prepare them to find more vampires. Also, I believe we should resume weapons training. It will help the new ones get used to being human again and ensure they're at least marginally capable of defending themselves if the need arises."
It was doubtful that Jerrick saw her nod before he shut the door behind him, leaving her alone with Stefan. Stillness settled over the room like a blanket then; it was a few moments before Stefan stirred. He lifted a hand and combed his fingers through her bright hair. She sighed, leaning into the touch.
::Are you all right?:: he asked. She shifted, tucking one shoulder under his arm. "I'm okay," she said softly. "Are you sure you're fine? No more wood chips left in you anywhere?" she asked for the umpteenth time.
He pressed a wry smile against her hair. ::None.::
"Hm…" She realized that he had been using telepathy quite a bit lately. Not that she minded; there was something oddly intimate about hearing his caressing voice in her head and his mental speech was richer, carried a stronger sense of _him_, than verbal talk. However, she did wonder–
"Will you miss telepathy?" Against her, she felt him stiffen slightly at the mumbled question. After a moment, he replied, ::Not particularly, I think.:: "It's not as if I use it all the time," he continued aloud. "I'm sure the loss of the ability would not cause me too much inconvenience."
"You've been using it quite a bit lately. More than you used to, anyway." She lifted her head slightly to look at his face. "It will be just one of the things you're lose if you are Turned."
"When," he corrected curtly. "Not if. You said we would see how things went with this first attempt. I'd say things went just as planned. Nothing untoward happened. I don't see any reason I can't join the next batch of vampires to be Turned."
Elena's eyes flashed with irritation at his tone. "You may not but I do! There must be a drawback to this plan somewhere. That we can't find one only makes me more suspicious," she retorted.
"Perhaps Jerrick is right? Perhaps this _is_ the way your abilities were intended to work, in concert," Stefan suggested in a quieter tone. Before she could reply, his arm tightened around her and he shook his head. "That's besides the point.
"Elena," he tipped his chin down and looked at her, soberly. "Telepathy, vampiric strength, inhuman endurance, immortality; I'd give up all this and more without a second thought for a chance at a normal, human life with you. Let me finish," he said when she started to speak. She subsided.
"You agreed to this task for the same chance. If you can face dangers and risk for that one chance, what makes you think that I cannot?" he asked quietly.
She had no answer to this honest, searching question. All she could do was lean back into his embrace, slipping her arms around him and feeling his encircle her. Against his light sweater, she nodded simple acquiescence.
He had made his decision and she could not refuse him any longer. He would join the next group of vampires to be Turned.
Elena felt tears well up in her eyes, born of fear, but also of love.
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* Kellas Rahba can be translated to mean 'great chaos'. 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: 8 April 2003
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~ Forty Five ~
The Old One stopped writhing against the multitude of ghostly hands that tugged and grabbed and clawed at him, realizing that they had melted away like a bad dream. He opened his eyes in disbelief and looked around the small, dimly lit wood cabin he found himself in.
The threadbare, tan raincoat, the messy, almost-white shock of hair and the overall grimy appearance were precisely the same as they had been that night in the fire-ridden clearing in Virginia. So were the electric blue eyes that locked on Stefan with such intensity.
He smiled, an unpleasant, bloodthirsty baring of teeth.
"Salvatore! What a _pleasant_ surprise!" The voice was also as he remembered it; false joviality thinly covering cutting malevolence. He tugged at his clothes, like a man brushing himself off. "To what do I owe this?" A sweep of his hand indicated the unexpected emancipation as well as the meeting.
Stefan did not answer. At a silent signal, the thus-far unnoticed witches turned and filed silently out of the cabin. He heard a step beside and behind him as Elena came out of the shadows and showed herself.
The reaction she drew was instantaneous. "_You!_" hissed the Old One, canines elongating and body tensing to spring. If Klaus hated Stefan, he loathed Elena. It was she who had imprisoned him in the spirit realm for the past year.
Elena took another step forward so that she was just slightly in front of Stefan. Her face was serene as she gazed at the Old One. She simply nodded at his exclamation. "Yes. Me."
"You're dead! What are you doing here?" Klaus demanded furiously, incensed that she should be alive while he had been held on the other plane. "And why did you bring me here?" he added, suddenly suspicious.
"To obliterate you permanently," Elena said calmly. Klaus stared at her for a full five seconds and then he exploded into mirth. Stefan tensed defensively as Klaus' laughter thundered to the vaulted ceiling of the cabin but a quick glance at Elena showed that she was not at all disturbed by the wild display. Eventually, the manic roars died down to a gasping chuckle.
"You little mortal _fools_," the Old One panted. "You brought me back here to _kill_ me? Don't you know that _I can never die_?" He lapsed back into insane chortles, as if the joke was on them. And as far as he knew, it _was_. Elena dispelled his illusions quickly, with simple, quiet words.
"Not kill. Unmake. Kellas Rahba."
The laughter died without a sputter. This time, the immortal's stunned expression was a mixture of astonishment – and fear. His nerves wound to harp-string tightness, Stefan kept his eyes firmly on Klaus – Kellas Rahba. Elena had told him what to expect. She would know the Old One's Name when she saw him. And when she revealed that she knew...
"_E'ya tenua_–" Klaus breathed unthinkingly, causing Stefan to blink. The Italian vampire was even more astonished when Elena nodded.
"_Mi'eh, naii kentri e'yem kacheyth,_" she said crisply, with no trace of awkwardness as she spoke. Stefan turned his head slightly to look at her, though he was careful to keep Klaus squarely in his line of sight. This, he had heard nothing off. He reached for her mind but found it surrounded by a hard, smooth mental shield that he had never encountered before.
He was instantly alarmed, until he felt a familiar touch on his own mind. ::It is a protection. To keep the Old Ones from influencing her when she deals with them,:: Jerrick explained. Stefan relaxed, taking the lame man's word for truth.
Klaus, meanwhile, had clamped his mouth tightly shut and his nostrils flared. "This is a trick," he snapped.
"No trick, Old One. It ends here," Elena told him, her tone flat.
In a burst of seeming denial, Klaus rushed towards them. He stopped short when he met the invisible wall of the ward, impacting and bouncing off it with the full force of his forward momentum. He stumbled back, dazed and disbelieving as his eyes scanned the air in front of him, as if trying to see the shield of pure force with his eyes. But then, his was control of energy forces; maybe his eyes _could_ perceive lines of power.
Whatever he saw, he collected himself quickly after that and did not attempt to force his way across the barrier. Vivid blue eyes focused beyond the ward and behind Stefan and Elena, searching for something to use as a weapon. Stefan was glad they had emptied the cabin of all contents. Finding no handy projectiles available, Klaus evidently looked further afield.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Klaus' eyes fixed on them and his mouth curved triumphantly. Elena continued to watch him with a stoic expression, unimpressed and coolly unaffected by his machinations. 'Do what you will, give it your best shot; it will make no difference in the end,' her demeanor said silently. Her confidence lent strength to her psychological position.
The rumbling grew louder. Overhead, there was a sudden, sharp crack, as if the heavens tore asunder. The entire cabin reverberated with the force of the strike. And the next. And the next. Each crash threatened to bring the roof down over their heads and tear the entire cabin apart around them.
It began to rain dust and debris. Small chips of wood began falling from the ceiling, then bigger ones. The cabin seemed to groan as the onslaught continued. Then panels in the wall and roof started coming apart. Jagged pieces of wood tore loose from its joining and began streaking through the air madly.
Stefan stepped closer to Elena, eyes darting about to follow the random-seeming movements of the projectiles. Outside, thunder continued to growl sullenly. Through the window, the night began to take on a ruddy light.
"I will burn this place down around us if I have to," Klaus cackled wildly. With the whites showing all around his eyes, he looked truly mad. "_You_ will die and _I_ will walk out of here without a scratch. But that would be too easy." His tone... twisted as he focused his frenzied gaze on the vampire. "No, dying in a fire would be entirely too easy for you."
Stefan caught the sly glance Klaus threw Elena and saw the bit of timber stop its random zipping to fly straight at her. He reached out with vampiric quickness and knocked the speeding projectile aside. He suppressed a scream, hissing as the splintered leading edge slammed into his left hand. The length of wood clattered to the ground, once again inanimate, but leaving wicked splinters embedded in Stefan's flesh. He was hardly aware of Klaus' mad laughter, distracted by the searing pain of his palm.
He did not notice the sharp, two-inch thick makeshift lance until it was too late.
It slammed into his right shoulder, driving him back with enough force to pin him to the beam behind him.
"_Stefan!_" Elena's horrified scream pealed in his ears. Gasping from the pain, he forced his eyes open to see her standing, half turned and blanched with horror at the sight of him riveted to the wooden support pillar. Then she was beside him, frantically looking over the injury. Biting her lip, she grasped the stake, but even that slight movement bleached color from his face and she let go immediately. He noticed, in that clinical part of his mind, that she was trembling. Before he could do more than hiss and flinch, she whirled back to face Klaus, who had a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
"I'll deal with you later, Salvatore. But we can always have some fun first." The gleeful, malicious tones gave Stefan a terrible sense of déjà vu that made his blood run cold in the midst of his painful haze.
Then, he saw the score or so of needle-like fragments that wheeled like a flock of birds to race towards him and embed themselves in his abdomen and legs. He couldn't help it this time; he screamed.
"Stop!" Elena shouted, the sound seeming to come from far, far away. When he managed to open his eyes again, he saw Elena standing at the edge of the ward, her rigid back to him, her fists tight at her sides. There were still plenty of stray missiles that might easily pierce her fragile human body. Stefan's heart pounded and adrenaline shocked him out of his pain stupor. Be careful, he pleaded with her silently, held fast to the pillar. He grasped the impaling piece of wood with his left hand but the splinters in his palm made his grip light and clumsy, which in turn aggravated the stake-wound until his vision blurred with pain.
The air began to smell of smoke, and outside, the sky took on an angry red hue. Her voice sounded like she spoke through clenched teeth, Elena said, "Enough of this."
Helplessly, Stefan saw her step up to the ward and across it. "No!" he breathed fiercely as she walked right up to the grinning Old One, his own agony all but forgotten. His green eyes were feverish as he stared at the scene before him.
The crackling of thunder had given way to an ominous, muffled roar, broken by occasional crashes of branches tearing from trees to fall to the ground. The red glow through the window lit Klaus' face luridly and made the unpleasant smile he gave Elena clearly visible. Elena lifted a hand and placed it on the side of Klaus' neck. Against the red glare of the outside, she began to glow a faint, clean white.
Klaus didn't give her a chance.
He snatched her hand away from him, and squeezed her fingers, twisting her wrist at a cruel angle. He seemed to be forcing her to her knees, pressing her palm backwards until Stefan heard the joint strain horribly. In an abrupt motion, Klaus released the hand, which flopped weakly by Elena's side.
"So good of you to join me," he purred, his smooth tone at odds with the brutal way he grabbed her and pulled her close to thrust his face a fraction of an inch from hers. The fingers circling Elena's arms began to close mercilessly until the snapping sound that reached Stefan's ears did not come from outside the cabin. Elena's gasps of pain filled the cabin.
Klaus released her arms to bury his fingers in the fine gold hair at the back of her head and yanked her upright when she threatened to crumple. He leered, then backhanded her. Her head snapped to one side, but he kept a grip on her hair and jerked her about to face him once again.
He seemed to have completely forgotten Stefan as he gazed down at Elena almost dreamily. "Oh, you have no idea how much and how long I've wanted to do this. For just one chance to reach you and hold you in my hands." Almost casually, he drove a fist into her ribcage, breaking bones with a shockingly loud snap. Stefan strained against the spike holding him in place, almost heedless of the pain flooding him and the blood soaking through his clothes to drip onto the floor.
"But, you'll learn," Klaus was saying, wrenching Elena's face up to meet his again. "Now I can finish this once and for all. Starting with you, followed by your boyfriend over there, then his upstart brother, and that impudent little redheaded minx of a friend of yours." He laughed nastily. "Who knows? I may even keep her for a while if she amuses me."
He shook his head slowly, mockingly pitiful. "Whatever tricks you have up your sleeve," he said, fingers of his free hand trailing down her cheek, then closing on the delicate bones of her jaw. The sick crunching sound that followed was all Stefan seemed to hear. "You are still only a human," he finished viciously.
"Elena!" Stefan shouted. Hardly aware of what he was doing, only focused on his goal, the fingers of his left hand closed around the rivet and pulled. He might have fainted momentarily from the pain but he found himself stumbling heedlessly across the room. He barged through the ward and knocked the unprepared Old One aside with his drunken, uncoordinated momentum. He caught Elena in his arms as she swayed and holding her carefully, fell to his knees. Blood poured from her nose and mouth, her jaw was misshapen, slack and quickly turning an ugly shade of purple and her arms and body were frighteningly limp. "Elena," he whispered, a note of question in his tone. She was still glowing, he noticed. And he knew what he had to do.
A shadow loomed over them. Stefan turned his head to glare at Klaus with almost uncontainable rage. As gently as he could, he laid Elena on the ground and rose unsteadily to his feet. He vaguely realized that his left hand was clenched around the stake that had recently been lodged in his right shoulder.
"Come to join the fun, Salvatore? You always were a jealous one. Never wanted to share. That's what started this entire problem in the first place, but do you learn?" The Old One shook his head sadly, then look wide-eyed surprised as a stake lodged itself in his throat.
Stefan didn't give him a chance to recover. Hanging on to his coordination and strength precariously, he attacked. A kick behind the knees and some rough twisting of limbs laid the Original on the ground and immobile.
Flat on his stomach, craning his neck back to keep the end of the stake from driving further into his throat, with his arms and legs yanked uncomfortably behind him, Klaus barely took a second to recover and began struggling to get free. But even for an immortal, having a piece of wood piercing his windpipe must have been an uncomfortable and distracting feeling.
Stefan sat on his back for good measure. Carefully taking Elena hand, he placed it on the Old One, covering it with his own and holding it in place when it started to slip off lifelessly. Spots danced before his eyes in earnest now from the lack of blood but he dared not show any weakness.
What followed, Stefan couldn't know completely. All he saw was the way Elena's aura spread to envelope Klaus, who was writhing beneath Stefan futilely. The stake in his throat turned his words into furious gurgles, but did little to hamper his energy. Stefan hung on with all his strength, gritting his teeth against the cry that threatened to tear from him as the struggling and exertions shifted the wooden splinters still in his legs and abdomen.
After what felt like an agonizingly long time, Klaus' entire body was sheathed in light. His gurgles turning into howls of denial as his body seemed to loose substance and dissolve like so much smoke. Stefan merely held him until there was nothing left to hold and he found himself sitting on the floor of the cabin alone with Elena. Outside, the angry red glow had not faded.
"Elena," he croaked, body loosening with pain and lightheadedness now that the danger was over. He blinked, taking a moment to realize that they had done it. They had done it! Klaus was no more!
He inched towards her as quickly as he could, moving like a geezer now that battle tension had melted away and left him weak. As carefully as he could, he gathered her up in his arms. Her wide, staring eyes momentarily terrified him, but then he realized she was still breathing.
Blood. Too much blood. Stefan vaguely realized that he was staring at the little rivers of blood running down her white skin. He needed blood. He and Elena were staining each other scarlet. It was hard to tell who was bleeding where anymore. Stefan's shoulder started throbbing in time with the pounding of his pulse in his ears.
Movement in the periphery of his vision broke his half-tranced stated. He lifted his head tiredly. A tall, unimposing redheaded man and a woman with black hair and blue eyes stood nearby. The man waved a hand and his mouth moved soundlessly and then the pair stepped closer. The woman murmured words that didn't register with the vampire. "He's going into shock...don't know if I can heal all this in time...Come on, Elena, give me a line here..." He heard the words but didn't understand them.
Then slowly, he felt a warmth flowing through him, a gentle wave that carried pain away with it when it left. He blinked, lucidity returning. Green eyes flicked from Madelene Ernst who was still bent over the figure cradled in his arms, to Jerrick, standing quietly to one side.
Before Stefan could find words to speak, Elena stirred, capturing all his attention. Her expression – the glimpse of it he caught as she rose – was abstracted and strangely impersonal. Alien.
::She is holding the Old One's residual Power in check. Do nothing to distract her,:: Jerrick counseled.
Elena was still covered with blood but seemed completely healed as she walked towards the door of the cabin without a backward glance, moving with even, unhurried steps. Maddy remained kneeling in front of Stefan for a moment, head bowed in exhaustion. Even with Power at her disposal, healing required a lot of effort. And the wounds she had just healed on them both were anything but trivial.
Jerrick started after Elena with his limping stride. Stefan rotated his shoulder experimentally, then touched the healer's elbow, leaving a stain. He stared, then looked down at himself. He look like he'd just bathed in blood. "Thank you," he said quietly. Her head shifted in a faint nod of acknowledgement. He rose to follow Elena and Jerrick.
* * *
The wood was burning. His uneven stride faltered as his eyes caught on the flaming limbs. The cabin stood safely away from the stand of trees, fortunately, so there was little immediate danger of it burning down around Elena and Stefan.
Another great branch tore from the tree trunk with a nerve-grating cry and crashed to the ground. Suppressing the foreign urge to spin raw Power into dousing the flames, Jerrick forced himself to focus on Elena and resume his limping track after her. Even as he started moving again, a handful of Turned came running up, unrolling a heavy fire hose as they went. Jerrick waved them away when they started at the sight of Elena covered with blood. Behind him, Stefan emerged from the lodge and half-ran to catch up.
They followed Elena to the vampire encampment. Jerrick's pale blue eyes swept the scene before them; the vampires were spread out in the open space among the cabins, most of them sitting on blankets or bare grass. They had been fully briefed on what to expect.
"As it was when you were changed to vampires," he had told them, "So it is now. You will lose consciousness; your body will be weakened to the point of death, then the transformation will take place. When you will awaken, you will be Turned."
Now the tension in the air was palpable, as was the fear. The unease skyrocketed when Elena came into view, still bloody from her encounter with Kellas Rahba, although she showed no sign of injury. The gathered vampires stirred uneasily, a restless murmur rippling through them.
Heedless of the furor she caused, Elena stepped up to the relative middle of the field, looking at the near three-score vampires with sightless eyes. Stefan stopped, standing alone in the middle of the path leading into the encampment, a gory figure that did nothing to soothe the uneasiness among the gathered. His four companions formed part of the ring at the edge of the encampment along with the witches and the rest of the Turned. Jerrick had to wave the Turned down a second time when some made to come forward, shock and horror on their faces. He heard the whisper of a telepathic conversation between the five vampires but paid it no heed. His attention was on Elena.
The air felt heavy with force as Jerrick limped to take his place almost directly behind her. She stood arrow-straight and still glowed faintly. Everything seemed to pause momentarily, as if bracing itself for what was to come.
Jerrick shut his eyes and reached out to touch one mind among the many... There. A young girl, terrified of what she was. She wanted to be human again. She wanted this nightmare to end.
The gift within Elena roused, as if to a silent call. Something seemed to open its eyes and take in the assembly. Jerrick, watching, saw it tap into the seething whirlpool of Power that Elena so carefully controlled. It... shrunk in on itself, like a cat crouching to spring, and _leapt_–
The young female vampire dropped like a bird shot in mid-flight. Even as Power coiled around the inert form and sunk to the very core of the body, Jerrick's ears caught the startled – in some cases, horrified – gasps. Quickly, he sought out another mind – one dawning with hope amid the fear. The man collapsed abruptly as people began to whisper that the first girl no longer breathed. As attention turned to the man, Jerrick sought and found a third willing mind.
And so it went. As he had hoped, the mob sentiment snowballed towards hope and desire, calling Elena's gift more quickly with each passing second, until they were the only two upright bodies left in the middle of the clearing.
As the last tendril of Power wrapped itself around a vampire and disappeared, Elena came back into herself and swayed on her feet. Jerrick knew better than to touch her. Stefan was quick in coming forward to do the honors.
"Stefan," she gasped softly and nearly lost her balance turning too fast to stare at him. "Your wounds–!" She stared, wide-eyed and horrified at his encrusted clothes. No longer the coolly detached being who had left the wood cabin, she was only Elena Gilbert now.
"Maddy healed them before she took care of yours. I'm fine," he reassured soothingly. "Yours were the worse injuries," he added, catching her as she swayed again. "Come on. You need to rest."
And you, Jerrick thought to him, need to hunt. Even as he limped away, leaving the couple to fuss over each other, he hadn't missed the careful control in the vampire's tone. Wordlessly, Jerrick retreated to the privacy of his own room, to keep watch over the new Turned from afar as they underwent their change.
As he settled into his chair and sent searching tendrils of thought out, the first of the vampires to fall drew a shuddering breath.
* * *
"Well. Are you satisfied with how things...ah...turned out?"
Jerrick paused delicately at the slight pun. Elena was not amused. She was seated beside Stefan in the den with Jerrick the next day, to see to the next steps in their plan. Or rather, Jerrick's plan.
The newly Turned seemed all right. Every one had awaken in good health the night before. Some were outright joyful and delighted with their return to – relative – humanity. Others were a little shaken, but no one had broken down and tried to kill themselves. Yet.
"It's a little early to tell," Elena said flatly. Beside her, Stefan was still as a statue, alert, poised, silently supportive.
Jerrick rested his temple against a hand he propped onto the arm of the chair and regarded her with his head tilted. "I was referring to the channeling of Power. Is it not the mutually beneficial arrangement I promised? I truly think this is why you were given the ability to Turn. The melding of both tasks is too seamless to be otherwise."
Elena's nose twitched, not quite a scoffing sniff. "That is yet to be seen." She hadn't forgotten the fifty odd vampires she had changed against their will in Turkey. She was still waiting to see how these newly changed ex-vampires dealt with the transformation, still looking for a hidden catch in Jerrick's seemingly perfect plan. With an impatient toss of her head, she asked abruptly, "What's next?"
Jerrick leaned back against his chair leisurely, lacing his fingers over one knee. "I thought we'd give the new Turned a few days to settle down and adapt. Some of the original Turned can set out looking for vampires but the rest will be needed to support the new ones for the time being. Perhaps by the middle or end of the week, we can send them out in pairs to join the search." He paused before adding, "I will leave to retrieve the next target at the end of the week."
Elena's head reared. "You're going alone?" she asked sharply. She noticed that he said 'I' and not 'we'.
The unassuming-looking redheaded man wagged his head from side to side, an ambiguous gesture. "Not entirely. I will need perhaps a couple of the Turned and some of the witches. And perhaps I'll call some old friends." He smiled faintly, a gesture Elena did not find reassuring at all. In casual tones, he commented "I hear things have been rather quiet at the Baron place. Perhaps Elsa and Jason would like a working holiday."
Lapis lazuli eyes narrowed. "You're playing with fire, stealing Crystal's hunters away from her," she warned.
"It's their choice. She doesn't own them. Neither do I force them to come along," Jerrick said mildly. Something in his too-calm tone, however, hinted of impatience.
Elena subsided reluctantly and pursued a different vein of thought. "Why am I not going along to get the Old One? And where is he?"
"England," Jerrick said briefly, answering the second question first. "As to the other," and his blue eyes leveled on hers calmly. "Can you contain an Original?"
She drew breath to answer then considered the question and shook her head mutely. Jerrick nodded once. "Your task lies elsewhere," he said gently, sounding almost consoling or contrite over his pointed question. "I'll manage, I think, with some help in practical matters. Which is why I'm taking the Turned, witches and hunters with me."
Discontentment settled in her stomach and left a niggling feeling in the back of her head. Elena paused to try and identify the reason for her turmoil. The only thing that came to mind was the fact that, for the first time, she was not being directly included in dealing with an Old One.
That was silly, she told herself. Jerrick can handle it. It was he who had brought about their downfall in the first place! She looked up at him, momentarily letting her inherent animosity and mistrust of him slip away. The lame, mild man looked back at her, patiently waiting for her to speak.
"You're leaving at the end of the week?" He nodded. "How long will you be gone?"
He shrugged to that question. "It depends on how successful my operatives are in actually pinpointing him. Three days, five perhaps."
"We'll have to hold on to the vampires until you get back. That might cause problems," she said thoughtfully. "Their temper's tricky. Perhaps you ought to leave earlier?"
She was given a sardonic look through pale blue eyes. "Controlling vampires is easier than keeping an Old One contained," Jerrick said dryly. "I'd rather have the vampires wait for the Old One than the reverse. I'm sure there's plenty that can be done while I'm away. Preparing the vampires for what life as Turned will be like, for one." He rose, signaling an end to the conversation. "As soon as I return, the unmaking and Turning will commence," he told her. The mild tone did not fool her; he was _telling_ her how it was to be.
Elena was not at all happy at being ordered, even in so polite and subtle a manner, but she bit the inside of her cheek and nodded agreement to his words. "So what do we do now?"
Jerrick spoke with his back to them as he limped painstakingly to the door. "As I said, help the new Turned to adapt and prepare them to find more vampires. Also, I believe we should resume weapons training. It will help the new ones get used to being human again and ensure they're at least marginally capable of defending themselves if the need arises."
It was doubtful that Jerrick saw her nod before he shut the door behind him, leaving her alone with Stefan. Stillness settled over the room like a blanket then; it was a few moments before Stefan stirred. He lifted a hand and combed his fingers through her bright hair. She sighed, leaning into the touch.
::Are you all right?:: he asked. She shifted, tucking one shoulder under his arm. "I'm okay," she said softly. "Are you sure you're fine? No more wood chips left in you anywhere?" she asked for the umpteenth time.
He pressed a wry smile against her hair. ::None.::
"Hm…" She realized that he had been using telepathy quite a bit lately. Not that she minded; there was something oddly intimate about hearing his caressing voice in her head and his mental speech was richer, carried a stronger sense of _him_, than verbal talk. However, she did wonder–
"Will you miss telepathy?" Against her, she felt him stiffen slightly at the mumbled question. After a moment, he replied, ::Not particularly, I think.:: "It's not as if I use it all the time," he continued aloud. "I'm sure the loss of the ability would not cause me too much inconvenience."
"You've been using it quite a bit lately. More than you used to, anyway." She lifted her head slightly to look at his face. "It will be just one of the things you're lose if you are Turned."
"When," he corrected curtly. "Not if. You said we would see how things went with this first attempt. I'd say things went just as planned. Nothing untoward happened. I don't see any reason I can't join the next batch of vampires to be Turned."
Elena's eyes flashed with irritation at his tone. "You may not but I do! There must be a drawback to this plan somewhere. That we can't find one only makes me more suspicious," she retorted.
"Perhaps Jerrick is right? Perhaps this _is_ the way your abilities were intended to work, in concert," Stefan suggested in a quieter tone. Before she could reply, his arm tightened around her and he shook his head. "That's besides the point.
"Elena," he tipped his chin down and looked at her, soberly. "Telepathy, vampiric strength, inhuman endurance, immortality; I'd give up all this and more without a second thought for a chance at a normal, human life with you. Let me finish," he said when she started to speak. She subsided.
"You agreed to this task for the same chance. If you can face dangers and risk for that one chance, what makes you think that I cannot?" he asked quietly.
She had no answer to this honest, searching question. All she could do was lean back into his embrace, slipping her arms around him and feeling his encircle her. Against his light sweater, she nodded simple acquiescence.
He had made his decision and she could not refuse him any longer. He would join the next group of vampires to be Turned.
Elena felt tears well up in her eyes, born of fear, but also of love.
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* Kellas Rahba can be translated to mean 'great chaos'. If you read this, if you like it, if you hate it, please let me know! Your feedback _really does_ makes a difference.