An Act of Kindness
He told her once that he had been expecting a child; he had hoped for a girl. He told her she reminded him of his firstborn, his Sun Dragon. She had suffered a loss, and the spirits had brought him to her. They were the same now. Why couldn't she try and return the favor?
A spell to bring forth lost loved ones goes array when Bonnie finds herself with a living room full of Starks.
I do not own the characters of Vampire Dairies or A Song of Fire and Ice/Game of Thrones. They belong to their respected owners. I only own this plotline.
Prologue
Damon Salvatore prided himself in knowing everyone in Mystic Falls, from the council members to the local bum. Those who would rouse suspicion if they went missing and the ones people would never bat an eyelash at. It was called for when you fed upon the denizens of a small town. And yet, as he stared out at the vast sea of faces who had all turned up for the final farewell to Shelia Bennett, there was one face he could not place.
It was hard not to stare at him.
The man looked like someone ripped out of a fantasy. His hair was a very light shade of blonde, almost silver –the vampire had to correct himself when he realized – it was silver. Or was it silver-blond? There wasn't any platinum to the coloring. It was like if Blondie were to bleach her hair. The blond would be the same shade. Damon was going to go with silver-blond. The man was at least in his late thirties, and his hair was medium length, but held in a braid, though some of it and curled at his ears. He was a head taller than the little witch by his side – which wasn't a hard feat. Damon towered over the little witch—dressed in black and the sole color that stood out was the ruby red tie he wore, the same color of the rose in his hand.
Damon watched as the man leaned in, his other hand clasped on one of Bonnie's shoulders. The hand moved up and down with every shake of her shoulders as she quietly sobbed. He was whispering something into her ear and Damon decided he was wanted to know what they were saying to each other. He didn't know this guy, and he wasn't about to let some stranger be the one to comfort Bonnie. He was the one who had been assigned to be the Bennett guardian.
As he tuned his ears, he was met with silence. There was nothing, not even a heartbeat. The little witch, who he noticed was almost curled into the man's larger frame, was stronger than he gave her credit. She obviously didn't want him to know who this man was, or anything said between them.
"Oh wow," Caroline gasped. If Damon had turned to look at her, he would have noticed she had her hand over her mouth, pure awe in her eyes. "Is that Ray?"
Damon frowned. What kind of a name was Ray? It certainly didn't fit the stranger. He expected his name to be something fantasy-like. Perhaps something a bit Tolkien-y.
"Ray?" He echoed.
Elena peered over towards Bonnie, her eyes going wide. He didn't miss how her heart skipped a beat.
"Oh wow," she parroted. "It is. I can't believe he's forty now."
"He doesn't look a day over thirty," Caroline sighed.
Damon rolled his eyes. Teenage girls and their love of older men. As gross as it was, it did give him a glimmer of hope. Elena liked older men, did she? Well, it would explain her feelings for Stefan and hopefully her growing feelings for him.
"Who is he?" His brother asked, and Damon could hear the awe in his voice. Now was not a good time to think about having a man-crush, little brother. They were at a funeral.
"A family friend of Shelia's," Liz told him. "He comes every summer to see Bonnie. But he didn't show this year."
"A shame," Caroline sighed again, this time in disappoint instead of dreamily.
"Okay, but who is he?" Damon pressed, looking at Liz for answers. He wasn't going to get anywhere with the younger girls.
"An old friend of Shelia's," she repeated, a firmness in her tone. "He's been around for years, Damon."
That was funny, Damon thought. He passed through Mystic Falls ten years ago and had never seen the man. It had been a hot summer and he remembered seeing Shelia Bennett and her granddaughter gardening. He could recall the dirt that smudged Bonnie's cheeks and her missing teeth as she smiled up at her grandmother.
The priest spoke about how they would be lowering the body. One by one, the community came forth and placed a rose upon the casket. Damon's caught the man's face as he turned back towards the crowd.
The man was definitely something out of a fairytale. Damon knew that because the first thing he noticed, besides the silver-blond hair and the look of elegance that would make him think a fairytale prince, were the deep, dark lilac-colored eyes. He would have thought they were indigo on color, but the purple was so prominent.
He was tall and next to Bonnie; it was like a dragon was standing guard over her. Bonnie looked like a mystical; her hair was curled, held in a high ponytail. Both were adorned in black, both carrying red roses. Damon noticed another rose as well. It stood out, tucked in the sea of inky curls and Bonnie's ear lobe. The petals were unlike anything he had ever seen before. They were soft and looked like frost had kissed each one delicately; like a lover trying to steal away the most chaste of kisses. The blue was striking, despite how pale it looked.
Damon's eyes narrowed as he watched as the pale hand on Bonnie's shoulder reach up, Ray's fingers caressed the rose with a distant fondness. There was longing there, and a bitter remembrance. He knew that look well; it was how he would look at Katherine's obituary photo.
Ray knew lost love. Now that raised some questions for Damon.
He continued to watch them, even as Bonnie strolled up to the casket, as she placed the red rose atop the others, and he could smell the saltiness of her tears. Ray placed his own rose next to hers, and as they lowered the casket into the ground, that was when Bonnie broke.
She slumped against Ray, who Damon was going to nickname her silver knight in the short span of time he was observing them. Her sobs, which had once been quiet, rose in volume until they stopped altogether. Ray held her close to his chest before his eyes stared out at all those watching, the look in his eyes blazing like a dragon's, daring any and all to come and take his treasure.
The arm around Bonnie's waist tightened before his other one swooped below and under her knees, lifting her. He held her close, and with only one arm supporting her weight, wiped the tears from her face, before he settled down into his chair. Damon hadn't noticed it, but no one said a word, not even Caroline.
No one uttered a word as they shoveled the dirt onto Shelia's coffin.
Edited 07/19/2021