Ch. 20 – Crying Wolf and The Dinner Party 2x14-15
A/N: Hey, look! A decently timed update! I mean a little over a month isn't too bad, right? I mean, no one has yelled at me to update faster, so I'm just going with whenever seems good to me. But feel free to message me if you want a particular update schedule. I am working on season 3 and some chapters are absolute monsters in terms of word count, so expect upwards of 10,000 words from basically here on out. Also, these next couple of chapters are not my favorite. I'm not 100% confident with how I wrote some of the character interactions, so feel free to let me know how I did.
Summary of Previous chapter Trigger Scenes: Emilia was captured with Caroline and was shot and bleeding out when Jonas Martin comes in to rescue to list of people on 'Elena's' list of protection. She is bleeding out too fast, so Jonas takes her to Elijah's apartment to heal. She gets triggered by the situation and devolves into a very intense panic attack which leads her to a dissociative flashback episode. During the episode, she attacks Luka and Dr. Martin, taking both of them down. She runs into Elijah during the episode which leads to her discovering vampire blood being the reason she healed and that leads her to self-harm in efforts to get the blood out, with Elijah trying to stop her. The episode ends with Emilia falling unconscious. There is an omake that has Jonas and Elijah discussing the episode with Jonas naming it as a PTSD dissociative flashback episode. He recognizes it due to his brother who committed suicide during an episode due to his PTSD from fighting in Vietnam (Luka wears his dog tags and that is what Bonnie steals to channel Luka in a previous episode). Jonas warns Elijah to watch out for Emilia, despite Elijah's comments to her being important purely due to her use for the sacrifice, before Jonas heals her with a spell. Emilia freaks out again when she wakes up, threatening herself and Dr. Martin in her frenzy. She breaks down when she notices her new scars, falling into a smaller fugue episode. Elijah eventually snaps her out of it, and she leaves awkwardly, trying to regain some element of dignity and professionalism despite the mess. She is still injured when she leaves, but she is so insistent that Dr. Martin relents. She gets a silent ride back to her car from Dr. Martin and she breaks down crying when she makes it to the sleepover at Caroline's.
Disclaimer: I only own Emilia and my personal story headcanons.
Edit: 1/16/2022
I wake up at the sleepover when Elena falls off the bed to answer her ringing phone. My eyes hurt when I try to peel them open, so I just try to keep them closed for a little longer. My head is pounding too and Elena's voice in the hallway is not helping. Caroline cuddles with me a little more, so I try to relax into my best friend. We spent a lot of time together last night, comforting each other and being comforted by the two others who weren't in that cage with us. I don't think Caroline let me go the whole night, and I'm so grateful for it. I needed her reassurance, despite her only being there for part of it. I'm still feeling so shaky from yesterday and whatever Jonas did to heal me is good, but I'm still wildly sore. And of course, my feet are still scratched up, but what can I expect I didn't mention anything. Thank god, Elena brought long sleeve pajamas. How do I even begin to explain last night? Or anything that comes with it? Especially the whole Elijah part; I don't know how to process that myself. I mean, did that really happen? How did he break me out? Both times? And the hand thing? I mean, what? He just?
No, it's nothing. It's whatever. Not worth thinking about.
Magic was what fixed me. I'm just gonna assume magic and then move on from the whole thing. Or avoid him forever and die in a hole.
If only there wasn't a stupid sacrifice hanging over our heads.
Speaking of hanging over my head, I just remembered that I have to go to the Historical Society high tea today. Damn you, Carol.
Elena wakes the rest of us up by pulling the blanket off us. Caroline, Bonnie, and I groan, reaching for the previous warmth of the blanket. Elena just throws the blanket and jumps on the bed, knocking Bonnie off the other side. The only reason I stay on the bed, is Caroline's arms wrapping around me. Good thing too, because that could've hurt like a bitch.
"Get up, guys. We have a busy day," Elena says.
The rest of us lift our heads in curiosity. I mean, I do, but I'm the one going to the tea. I don't think anyone else really has any plans today. Bonnie mentioned something about the Grille and Luka last night, but I was falling asleep. Caroline said something about reconciling with Matt. But neither of them had anything concrete beyond that. I don't know what Elena had planned. But definitely nothing that constitutes 'busy day'.
"What?" Caroline asks.
"We?" I ask with my arm over my eyes.
"What do you have planned?" Bonnie asks.
Elena giggles, "Stefan is taking me away."
The three of us sit up with a, "What?"
Elena laughs and sits up on the bed, "Yeah, we just decided." She stands up. "I need a break from everything and today seems perfect."
Caroline bounces, "Where is he taking you? Somewhere warm? A big city? Someplace foreign? Where?"
Elena laughs, "Nothing like that." She turns to me, "I was thinking the lake house."
I sigh, "You haven't been there since mom and dad." Jenna and I had to do some of the packing after the funeral, but Elena and Jeremy were still too out of it to be there. To be fair, Jenna and I were both insanely messed up too; we just hid it better. But as a family, we had some really good memories there. Elena sighs and we both get lost in the memories.
Bonnie is the one to break us out of the memories, "So, what are you going to bring?"
And we start planning.
I help Elena pack as much as I can before I have to leave her with tight hug and a bunch of 'good luck' and 'be safe' and whatnot. I make it to the tea, fully dressed in a light pink dress with white anemone flowers. It has these flouncy long sleeves that cinch on the end to keep them in place and it cinches the same way at the waist. It has a scoop neckline and strips of fabric that you tie to create a bow at your neck. It's modest enough for Carol Lockwood but fits me in a comfortable way that I need today. With a sliver necklace and earrings, my hair pulled back in a braided half-pony, a touch of makeup (foundations and concealer on my arms just in case), and fresh bandages with some padding on my feet (hidden well by my white ballet flats), I am ready to go – just in time for set up. I am Carol's assistant for the day, running the event as she wants to be available for the guests. I.e. Carol wants to gloat and gossip or she wants to flirt. Based on the fact that this party is supposed to be for the writer in town, I'm guessing flirt.
Oh, wait. The writer is Elijah.
Fuck.
I'm staying behind the scenes today. And hopefully off my feet as much as I can.
Unluckily for me, most of my duties have me doing only one of those things. Carol gives me a list of duties as soon as I walk in and I'm instantly running around. I am checking vendor orders and their payments. I am organizing the food and servers. I am in charge of the alcohol - even though I am a minor and should not be near this, but God-forbid Carol have an event without champagne. Even if it is a tea, there's trays of champagne floating around. - I am in charge of making sure the fine-china tea sets are ready. I also take it on myself to have a variety of teas available; not everyone likes Carol's bland Lipton blend. I fix all the fresh bouquets of flowers. Everything seems to be running smoothly as the guests arrive. I sneak inside just in time to greet Alaric and Jenna.
Jenna hugs me warmly and compliments my outfit. Alaric stands behind her as always. He compliments the event and I laugh at him. He's literally just made it in the door. He hasn't seen the event yet, but he's being nice. And he's doing this to get along with me, so I can't fault him. It's a really nice thing to do for Jenna, especially with her being my guardian, so showing up to offer us both support is really great of him. I thank them both for coming and the compliments before I send them into the event room.
I spend most of the party, hidden in the kitchen. I'm rearranging platters of finger food and boiling water. I keep teas floating around with pots filled with water at the right temperature, (including a few prepared pots of correctly-made tea, cause temperature is important for tea).. I stack sugar cubes on plates and clean up any honey or cream spills. I am annoying the waitstaff and caterers a bit – based on some of the faces made at me - but they aren't complaining about my organization skills. Basically, I am doing anything I can to stay out of the main room.
But eventually, I have to check on the state of the room. I float around the side, trying to stay invisible but Carol Lockwood spots me anyways, "Emilia! Come over here." I sigh. I knew I should've worn a dress that matched the walls. I turn to face Carol with a polite smile and walk over. I take my time, fixing any slight problems as I make my way over to her. I pick up a dropped napkin and place an empty cup on a passing tray, but Carol stops me from doing more by saying to me, "Emilia, you don't have to do that. Just come over here." I sigh again, keeping my polite, best Miss Mystic smile and walk over to Carol. Who is with Elijah. Shit.
This is fine. I'm calm, cool, and collected. My head is completely on straight and not like whatever… You know what, I'm not going to think about it. Nothing happened last night. I had a great sleepover with some friends and I'm here to welcome the writer into the town. Absolutely nothing else.
If only I wasn't reminded how deluded I am every time I take a step.
Still calm, cool, and collected as much as possible.
When I reach them, Carol turns back to Elijah and introduces me to him, "Elijah, this is Emilia Gilbert." She's worked her way to calling him by his first name, wow. She turns to me, "Emilia, this Elijah Smith. He is the writer who is in town working on a story about the history of small-town Virginia." She turns back to Elijah, "Emilia, here, is the future of the Historical Society."
Wow. I'm actually a little shocked. That is the nicest thing she has ever said about me.
I turn back to Elijah to see him staring at me. I hold my hand out to shake, "Pleasure to meet you."
He grabs my hand and lifts it to his mouth, "The pleasure is all mine." A light kiss graces my knuckles. Then, my hand is lowered, but he doesn't release it. His stare keeps me trapped, despite my need to avoid it and fidget.
Carol breaks the stare by saying, "Elijah," My hand is dropped and we turn to face her "an interesting fact about Emilia here is that she is our current runner up for Miss Mystic Falls. From her grace and poise, you would think she held the crown herself." Well, shit. I want to die. I want to bury Carol and then die in a hole, one far away from everyone.
Elijah hums, "Interesting," and takes a sip of his tea, still staring at me. My smiles falters for a moment. What is with him and his stares? Can he not do that? His charged knowing look is distracting me from my planned ignorance of our situation.
"You are too kind, Carol" I say. I try to step back and away, but Carol grabs my arm, bringing me back.
"You know Elijah, I figure that Emilia here is your best bet for all your information on Mystic Falls. I know Jenna gave you some of the archive, which was Miranda's - Emilia's mother - pet project. But Emilia probably has the whole thing memorized. She has always been a great help with research for the Historical Society." If I didn't know Carol better, I would think she was setting me up with Elijah. But she only likes me for my help, and she tends to flirt with younger attractive men, even when her husband was alive.
"Thank you for saying that," I murmur. I try to leave again, but Carol's grip on my arm gests tighter and I actually have to keep a wince in. But by the glance I feel sweep over me, I didn't do it effectively. At least, she is holding me by my left arm or I wouldn't have even been able to hide it at all. Nope, absolutely not thinking about anything.
Carol keeps me in her grip, but she turns back to Elijah. "Have you spent much time in the Richmond area for your book? There's such a wealth of history there." Ok, why is she keeping me here?
Elijah glances to me again, but he focuses back on Carol, "No. I'm mostly focusing on the smaller regions of Virginia. Lots of research. Purely academic."
Carol smiles, "That's fascinating." She turns to me and I notice Damon entering behind her. Oh, god. What is he going to do now? Carol calls my name.
"Yes?" I ask, my polite smile back on my face.
"What can you tell us about our town?" Carol asks. Oh, I'm a show pony. Press a button and see what she spits out. A magic eight ball. Emilia, will I be able to sleep with this author? Outlook is not good.
I shift myself out of her grip. "About what, Carol? As you described, I have the whole archive memorized. I know a lot of things. You are going to have to ask something more specific if you want me to answer," I say. Elijah chuckles lightly. And I fix her with my best Miss Mystic Falls smile. Bite me, Carol. I'm not a fucking toy.
Carol laughs, all light and fake. "Oh, Emilia. You are a riot." She turns to Elijah. "Isn't she a delight?" Elijah chuckles again, taking a sip of his tea. I glance at him to see him staring at me again.
And that's when Damon walks over.
Carol greets him as friendly as can be, "Damon." As yes, her original younger mystery man.
"Carol," he says.
Her love for the jackass is evident with her breathy, "Hi." He leans in for a cheek-to-cheek kiss. "What a surprise," she finishes. I glance over and Elijah is glaring at Damon. His glare matches mine, politely restrained. Carol turns to him and says, "Elijah, I want you to meet Damon Salvatore. His family is one of Mystic Falls' Founding Families." Yeah, his family.
Damon turns to Elijah with a hummed agreement. The men stare at each other as Damon says, "Such a pleasure to meet you."
Elijah shakes his hand, "No. Pleasure's mine." How different could that phrase between our fake introduction and Damon's.
A crash sounds from the other room. Ugh, finally a chance to escape. "If you'll excuse me, I will handle that."
Carol smiles, "No, of course not, Emilia. Keep chatting. I'll take care of it." And she walks away. Damn her. I watch her go and I sigh. I grab a passing cup of tea. I'm hoping for chamomile, but I'll pretend anything and everything has alcohol. I snag a passing champagne glass and dump it in the teacup before replacing the glass quickly. I throw back a big swig of it. It's gross but works enough. Like a very bad version of a hot toddy.
"Are you supposed to be drinking that?" Elijah asks. Crap, I'm still here.
I look to him, "Are you going to tell on me?"
He chuckles, "I wouldn't dare." I nod and take another swig.
Damon makes his location known with a sarcastic greeting of, "Emilia."
I roll my eyes and turn to him, "Damon."
The always polite Salvatore immediately asks, "What are you doing here?"
"In this building? Being Carol's lackey to make up for my lack of showing at the Volunteer Day, when I had a dislocated shoulder and a broken arm," I sigh. For a moment, I forgot that that's the reason I'm here. Damn you, Carol. "In this spot and conversation, well based on the glares Elijah is giving you, I am going to guess…I'm saving your life," I reply. Hmmm, maybe I should leave.
"My life is fine. There's no threat here," Damon says.
I glance to the 1000-year-old Original and back to the smarmy 150-year-old, "You sure about that?"
"Yes," Damon snips. "We are just going to have a bit of a chat. Get to know each other better."
I sigh, "It's your head, not mine." I turn to Elijah, "If you need something stronger than your tea to deal with that," I say nodding my head to Damon, "Carol hides the good alcohol in the locked cabinet in the study, hidden behind fake first edition books. Please don't get blood on any of the rugs." And I leave, sipping my spiked tea as I walk out.
A quick look to the main room has me spotting John, so I make myself busy for a while. Cleaning and reorganizing and going back to hiding in the kitchens. I eventually grab my bag and sneak into the quiet den. Screw 'this room is for family only.' I've done enough work today. Hopefully, Carol has had enough champagne that she won't notice my absence. I grabbed a novel from my bag and curl up in a comfy chair by the fireplace, kicking off my shoes as soon as I'm comfortable.
I get wrapped up in the book in my lap, and I don't know how much time has passed when I hear footsteps coming in. Without looking up I announce, "This room is off limits."
I'm flipping the page when an - increasingly familiar - British voice says, "Then we will both be in trouble."
Crap. I try to keep from tensing into an extreme defensive position, but I can't stop myself from hiding my bandaged feet and my book.
I look up to see Elijah walking up and sitting in the chair across from me. Double crap. "Well," I close my book. "More reason for us to leave, then," I say as I start to pack my stuff up and slyly shove my feet back into my shoes.
"Do you really want to get back to the event? Or are you avoiding me?" Elijah asks, the picture of composure. Damn him. How long does it take to learn to be that calm?
"Of course not. We have a deal. One that I am working on upholding. And I am currently working on a deal with Mrs. Lockwood to work the tea, so if you'll excuse me," I say, getting up to leave the room.
"So, you are avoiding me," Elijah comments. "This must be due to what I witnessed of your actions yesterday."
I turn back to him, "You didn't see me yesterday. You made a deal with Elena last week and I walked you out. We haven't seen each other since then." I cross my arms over my chest. "In fact, we've never met. You are the new author in town, I'm the history student sent to help you with your research. It was nice talking to you, Mr. Smith, but I should be getting back to the tea."
Elijah sighs, before commenting at my retreating back, "I would fix your sleeves first." I look down to see that my scars are visible. "Wouldn't that be harder to explain than us talking?" he questions lightly.
But the light tone of his voice does nothing to reassure me. My chest tightens as I fix my sleeves with shaking hands. Breathe, breathe, breathe. It's fine. I'm fine. 5 things I see. But I can't see anything other than the scars. They're covered by concealer and my sleeves, but I can't remove the image of them being bare in front of me.
I am off today. And this moment does not help. That must be why I turn my head towards him and ask, "You just want to talk?" God, why am I responding to him?
"Of course," Elijah replies. He leans back and crosses one leg over the other.
I stare at him for a moment. He looks so innocent; you can almost imagine he's not the thousand-year-old predator. You know besides the stunningly intimidating good looks that make him rival a James Bond actor. Still, almost innocent. I could leave. Avoid the confrontation and explanation of yesterday that I've been dodging him because of. Could avoid the panic that's compressing my chest and making my thoughts run into dark places I would kill to avoid. There'd be no need to go through the pain of trying to come up with something to make up for anything that happened. Or the embarrassment and shame of having him see me like that. I could get back to work and spend some time with Jenna and Alaric, making fun of Carol or remembering past Historical Society events and telling Alaric the best stories from them.
But I could run into John out there.
"I'm not talking about yesterday," I say as I move to lean against the chair I was originally sitting on. I stay behind the chair, as if the chair could protect me more than just providing a bit of distance.
"Am I asking you about the events of yesterday?" Elijah questions.
I scoff, "You haven't asked me anything yet. I'm just setting some boundaries before you do."
Elijah nods, "I can agree to that with one small stipulation."
My heart drops, but I keep my face as still as possible. What could he possibly want? "What?"
"I can ask a small question referencing the events at hand," Elijah answers.
I immediately deny his suggestion. "No way. I literally just said that we won't be discussing it."
"It's a simple question."
"Nothing about yesterday is simple," I argue back. Probably louder than I should've. I clench my hands to hide the shaking that's returned along with the panic that's clamping my chest.
"And I am not asking you to explain anything," Elijah argues back as he stands slowly, hands up. "I may have a rather limited understanding as to some of the events that we are not discussing, but my question has nothing to do with an explanation." He tries to take a step forward, and I back up.
I can't have him. I can't have him be close. "What are you saying?" I demand. Just get to the point to move on.
"I just want to ask a simple question and we can move on from the endeavor and onto more pleasant things," he says as he rebuttons his suit jacket.
"I don't have anything for you," I report, thinking the pleasant things he's referring to are in regard to our previous deal. I don't give him a chance to rebut whatever he might be thinking of as I start to ramble about the progress I've made with the research. "I've narrowed down the time frame of deaths, but I'm having a hard time actually triangulating a location. Unsurprisingly, witches are cagey with the graves of their ancestors. Especially ones that have not been used for previous ancestral or spiritual magic. But I've got a few more contacts to try and at least a few more journals to peruse, so I've still got a few more avenues available to research."
"Miss Gilbert. Emilia, I wasn't asking you about your research progress."
"Oh, good. Then we're done then! I'll just grab my things-" I rush to grab my bag from the base of the chair but before I can Elijah blocks my way out by silently speeding to keep me from the door.
"Emilia, neither of us are lacking in intelligence. Don't pretend that we are."
Well, there's goes an easy exit. "Fine." I move slowly back to my chair.
Elijah motions for me to sit and I do, but far more tense than I was a minute ago. Why couldn't he just let me ramble about my research and then leave? Elijah sits back down in the seat in front of me.
We sit in tense silence for a minute. I cross my right leg over my left and grip the arms of the chair like they are a lifeline. And frankly, the tight grip I have on them is the only thing that keeps me from fidgeting as the silence continues.
What feels like a small eternity (but was probably only a few minutes), I finally break, "You wanted to talk." But who knows about what?
"First, agree to allowing me to ask one small question and we'll move on," he says, waving his hand in a small dismissive gesture.
Move on to what? What is with this guy and deals? He can only operate if he has some sort of agreement, and then he can do whatever he wants with rule-bending?
Hopefully this won't be painful as I'm expecting. "Fine. I agree to your stipulation." I take a deep breath before I continue, "Ask your question."
I tense as Elijah changes positions and opens his mouth. He sighs and rubs his hand across his mouth. "Are you alright?"
What? "What?"
"I simply wanted to know if you are alright. Jonas mentioned that you had some unhealed injuries when you left."
I glance down to my feet which I suddenly realize are throbbing and tender. "I'm fine."
"You're not."
"What? Yes, I am."
"You're not, but I do not expect you to be. I don't imagine that anyone who had been through what you went through would be. You were trapped with a friend, is she alright?"
"She's fine. She's with her boyfriend." At least that was Caroline's plan.
"She also has supernatural healing that you don't have, so I ask again. How are your injuries?"
"Healed," I answer. Elijah gives me an unimpressed look. How the fuck does he know? I sigh lightly, "They're scratches. Scabbed over."
"I would believe you if I couldn't smell the blood." Wait, what?
I look down at my still crossed legs. I pull the shoe off my right foot and check the bandage. It's a minor amount of blood. Just a few scabs must have ripped open. It's minor. Nothing.
"I would think that a vampire would know that a little blood isn't going to kill me," I murmur as I replace my shoe.
"I just wanted to check to make sure that the small amount of blood was all it was," Elijah says, his voice layered with innuendo. Not the sexual kind, which frankly would've been more helpful than the all-knowing tone he has.
"I'm fine and we're done with this."
Elijah lifts his hands up, "I believe you. And we'll move on."
And again, I ask, to what? I sigh and move to rest my head on my right hand.
Elijah smirks at my more relaxed state. I don't know how it happened, but despite the skirting around the topic I specifically said to avoid, the only thing that leaves me on guard is my hesitancy over what this new topic might be. He asks, "What book were you reading?"
I pause and blink in shock, "You dragged me into a conversation to ask me about a book?"
"I prefer the word entice or engage instead of drag. And yes, I want to talk about books."
I furrow my brows in confusion, "It's nothing, just a book. It's not going to give you the location you need and already said I don't have. Or some magical insight into Klaus and how to defeat him."
"Oh, in that case," he comments. He smiles at me. "What book are you reading?"
Damn him. "The Odyssey."
"Ah, Homer's classic tale of a man's perilous journey home from war." He smiles softly into the fire, and quotes,
"Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story
of that man skilled in all ways of contending,
the wanderer, harried for years on end,
after he plundered the stronghold
on the proud height of Troy.
He saw the townlands
and learned the minds of many distant men,
and weathered many bitter nights and days
in his deep heart at sea, while he fought only
to save his life, to bring his shipmates home.
But not by will nor valor could he save them,
for their own recklessness destroyed them all —
children and fools, they killed and feasted on
the cattle of Lord Hęlios, the Sun,
and he who moves all day through the heaven
took from their eyes the dawn of their return."
I chuckle lightly, "Amazing. But that's not the version I have."
"Really?" Elijah leans back in his chair. "How does your version start?"
I lean down and pick the giant book up, "Well, unlike you, I don't have the introduction memorized, so give me a moment." I flip to the correct page and start to read out loud,
"Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns
driven time and again off course, once he had plundered
the hallowed heights of Troy.
Many cities of men he saw and learned their minds,
many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea,
fighting to save his life and bring his comrades home.
But he could not save them from disaster, hard as he strove—
the recklessness of their own ways destroyed them all,
the blind fools, they devoured the cattle of the Sun
and the Sungod blotted out the day of their return.
Launch out on his story, Muse, daughter of Zeus,
start from where you will—sing for our time too."
I fix the pages so I'm back to my previous location. "Robert Fagles's translation from 1996," I explain softly.
"Is it your first time reading this?" Elijah asks after a moment.
"No," I lean back and curl my legs up in the chair, kicking of my shoes again. I smile softly and play with the edge of the bandages as I reminisce, "My parents used to read this to me." I get lost in the memories a bit as I continue to explain, "My mom was a fan of history and classic literature. My dad was a fan of action and the mythology. They liked that all this man wanted was to return to his wife, who despite everything - the distance and the other suitors – she remained faithful. I always figured my parents would be the same. This was one of the few stories we could all read together, with my sister enjoying the poetry, my brother the action like my dad, and me. I enjoyed us being together." I sigh. "This was their copy. I haven't read it since they died, but a little while ago, my siblings and I were watching this god-awful movie based on Greek mythology, and it got me to thinking about this."
"So, here you are," Elijah says. The fire reflecting, making his looks warmer. "Reading during an event."
I smile softly, running my fingers along the spine of the book. "You seem surprised."
"From what Carol had said, I imagined you were very active during these events."
I laugh, outright. "Oh, I was, but never how or when she wanted me to be."
"Oh, do tell."
I look at him, "It's a long story."
Elijah smirks, "We have time." Do we? I look over at the door. Again, I debate in my head whether or not it's worth it to stay in this uncertain situation. I mean he quotes the prelude to me and suddenly I'm just spilling the memories of my family. What is this? I mean why are we here? But then again, I just got comfortable. And John and Carol are still outside. Eh, fuck it. Why not complain about Carol? I mean what's he going to do with this information?
I sigh and start explaining, "I came to all the meetings with my mom and argued with Carol over the details of every historical thing that she tried to attribute to her family's past. But I hid during the parties when she wanted to show me off." I start my famous impression. "'Oh, have you met Emilia Gilbert. Isn't she darling? And this little girl just knows so many things about our wonderful town. She knows everything about her family's history. Did you know the Gilbert's were a Founding Family? Emilia, tell us about them.' So, I learned quickly to hide when the champagne comes out. Started reading in every place I could hide in. Being friends with…" I don't remember a lot from last night. Parts are a blur, but I remember that Tyler was there and not to help us. So I swallow the lump in my throat as I mention my former friend's name "Tyler helped. I found all the good spots, including one with things I definitely shouldn't have, like finding the location of the good booze before that would be something someone my age would search for. But, yeah, I was never the perfect lady she wanted me to be. I don't think she has ever been prouder of me then during the Miss Mystic competition, when I proved myself to be capable of living to her standards, and I didn't even win. But it showed her that I could be the lady she always wanted, which is why she is now introducing me as the runner-up Miss Mystic and kicking my ass when I don't live up to her scrutiny. Ergo, I am back to hiding."
He's silent for a moment, staring at me. Again.
"I told you it was a long story," I say after a minute of silence.
He leans his chin on his hand, "Not as long as the Odyssey."
I chuckle, "No, it's not."
I look to the fire for a few moments before he asks, "What else have you read in here? What would you be reading if you didn't pick up the Odyssey today?"
I look up at him as I think it over, "Probably Dracula," I say as straight as I can.
"The vampire novel?" he asks, looking kind of aghast.
"Or Twilight," I am trying my best to keep a straight face, but it is hard.
"I haven't heard of that one," he says.
"Oh, it's a real piece of classic literature."
"What is it about?" Elijah asks hesitantly.
I turn a chuckle into a cough, not well enough because Elijah gives me a look. I quickly try to mask my laughter before I answer, "Sparkly vampires."
Elijah looks dumbfounded. He sits there for a few moments, dead silent. He then asks, "And this is classic literature?"
I nod and say, "It's very popular." He keeps looking stunned and I can't help but break. My laughter comes out quietly first before picking up volume. My giggles wake him out of the stunned look and I can't help but laugh more. "I'm joking," I say through my giggles.
"Joking?"
I calm down enough to explain, "It's popular, but with teenage girls for the trashy romance. It's not an example of classic literature."
"Oh," Elijah says, relaxing a bit.
I give him a break, "Back to your question, I don't know what I would be reading. I'm usually focused on researching these days."
"Not Dracula then?"
"Eh, maybe… for fun."
Elijah chuckles and the warmth I feel is definitely just due to my proximity to a fire.
Omake: Stefan and Elena at the Lake house.
Elena stands out on the dock wrapped in a blanket.
Stefan walks up behind her, "Having another moment?"
Elena sighs as Stefan wraps his arms around her from behind. He gives her a kiss on the cheek, and she starts reminiscing out loud, "Jeremy broke his arm diving off this dock when he was six. My dad taught me and Emilia how to fish right off that edge up there. We hated killing the fish, so we would sit next to him while he fished. Emilia would sketch and I would write." She pauses, "So many memories."
The conversation turns to their relationship and the future.
Part 2: Stefan is cooking while Elena watches from the living room couch.
"My dad did all the cooking, too," Elena tells him.
"And your mom?" Stefan asks.
"She sat right here and watched. She couldn't cook, either. We tried learning together, but only Emilia stuck with the lessons. Then it became her and dad together in the kitchen with me and mom here and Jeremy bouncing between the tv and the couch." She turns to face the fire and notices, "Fire's dying."
The search for a jacket for Stefan leads to them finding the hidden weapon room.
We spend a significant amount of time discussing literature. So much so that the party ends, and Carol actually comes hunting for both of us.
She is all polite smiles and charm to Elijah, thanking him for coming, wishing him luck on his book, a little comment of "If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask," and an apology for my distracting him. She is harsher with me, all hidden through a polite veneer while in front of a guest. Her comments don't escape Elijah and he keeps glancing at me throughout the mini tirade. Luckily, none of her comments are anything new, so despite my shaky confidence and demeanor today, they roll off my back. Elijah is kind enough or just extremely polite and maybe a bit guilty, so he keeps Carol occupied while I handle the cleanup from the event.
It's already evening when I make it to the car, and surprisingly, Elijah is still waiting.
I stop before I reach the car and stare at him in surprise.
He looks up at me and notes my questioning and confused gaze. He explains, "I asked Carol if I could speak with you more about my research for the town. She directed me to your car. She also mentioned that you will be joining your aunt when she gives me a tour of the properties of the Founding Families."
"Great," I say, a little bit annoyed. She couldn't have told me that herself. I shake off the annoyance and focus on the conversation at hand. "Well, I guess I'll see you then." I start to walk to the driver's side.
He steps in front of me before I make it there, "I did actually wish to speak with you, Emilia."
I stop, "Oh. What about?"
"About yesterday."
I freeze in panic, "We've done a great job at not talking about it. Let's continue that streak."
"No, I think we need to. Or at least, I need to." My breath speeds up a bit. "I need to apologize for yesterday and for making you uncomfortable about it today." Oh. "You went through something terrible yesterday and I need to apologize for my part in it. And for my behavior today. You made it clear that you did not want to discuss it, and I encroached on that boundary more than once. I had no intentions of anything untoward but in my efforts to ascertain your wellbeing, I crossed some lines. You have my most sincere apologies."
"It's okay," I say, trying to wave it off. "I'm sure you have questions."
"You don't have to explain anything to me, Emilia," he continues. "We have a deal, protection for your friends and family and information for me. Beyond saving your life, nothing from yesterday is part of that deal."
I take a deep breath in relief. "Thank you," I say quietly. A load is lifted off my chest when he says this.
"Thank you, Emilia, for chatting with me today, despite your intense desire to avoid me."
I huff out a small laugh, "Well, it wasn't so bad."
Elijah nods with a small smile, "Thank you for your kind words and your company then." He starts to walk away.
I call him back, "Elijah!" I immediately regret it, but he turns around and I have to follow this through. "I'm sorry for what you saw yesterday. But thank you for not asking… I would explain it if I could, but…" I take a deep breath. "Maybe... someday in the future." Oh my god, can I get a sentence out. "I appreciate you not asking, is what I am trying to say."
"I'll see you during the tour, Emilia," he says with a nod. He walks away.
I am getting into the car when I get a call from Elena.
"Hey, how is the lake house?" I ask when I pick up.
"It's good. Did you know about the secret closet?"
"Oh, you found that, huh?" Whoops. Well it's easier to explain that now. I'm just not in the mood to explain, especially while I'm driving.
"Yeah, what is up with that? A secret weapons storage in Mom and Dad's closet?"
I switch the conversation off the location, "Did you find the journals?"
"Yeah, there are so many."
"I haven't read most of them. Especially the later ones. His ramblings got illegible."
"I've just flipped through a few and they all seem illegible."
I laugh. "Yeah, his handwriting takes some getting used to. But find some of the early ones, before and right after the tomb, there is some interesting stuff in those."
"Can you point me in a direction?"
"Sorry about that, but it's been a while. I don't remember how the books are configured. He labelled his entries though, so look for 1864."
"Thanks for the advice," Elena laughs.
"How's Stefan feel about the fact that the family is weird?"
"Uh… I don't know. He's been gone for a while."
Uh-Oh. "Elena be on guard."
"It should be fine. He went out for firewood."
"If it takes too long, and your gut feels off, be careful."
"Everything will be fine, Emilia. Stop worrying."
"Stay on the line, then."
Elena sighs, "Bye, Emilia. I'll call you later."
I try to shout at her, saying anything for her not to hang up, but she does. I am already home and I can't do anything from here. Not unless I spontaneously develop teleportation powers. I think it really hard, just in case. No dice.
I walk into the house to hear Jenna say, "I did. Until you get a lawyer and file for guardianship, it's my call, and there's nothing you can do about it." Hell yeah, Jenna. Rip into him. He doesn't just get to come here and throw his weight around as our suddenly revealed father. Especially not when he hasn't been here.
"I always knew you were lax with them, but I didn't think you were negligent," John says.
Oh. That. Is. It!
"How dare you!" I yell at him walking in. "How dare you come into this house and say a thing like that? How dare you, after years of silence and random visits, even begin to think you have a basic understanding of who we are? How dare you think that your lack of teenage control that led to the creation of me and my twin gives you the right to dictate anything about us? You gave us up! You gave us to your brother! And thank god you did because whatever kind of person would want you as their father is insane. And welcome to have you. How dare you spit on the memory of your brother by calling the woman who gave her life up to raise us after he died anything other than a saint? My father was a great man, who gave his life to save you from your mistakes. And how lucky you are that he was so giving! Because he raised your two daughters to be smart and responsible and so fucking amazing that you should be begging to spend time with us. But no. You come in here, demanding our time, demanding our love and doing absolutely nothing to earn anything other than our disdain. And the fact that you come here to blow up our relationships because you think you have some mighty high-ground because you contributed to our birth shows the same immaturity and other infuriating behaviors that led you to be absent Uncle John for our entire childhood." I step closer and lower my voice, "You wanna be my dad, you better learn that Jenna is one of the most important people to me, because she held me up when everyone else was gone. She kept us going when nothing else mattered to us. She gave up her whole independent life to take care of three grieving teens when you barely bothered to show up for the funeral. How dare you?"
I take a deep breath before I continue, "Elena left because she wanted to avoid you. Jenna will now be sleeping at Alaric's, Jeremy is going to Matt's, and I am going to Caroline's. You want to be here so much, enjoy the empty house." I turn to Jenna and nod at her. She leaves, teary-eyed with a squeeze of my hand before she goes to pack. I turn back to him. "I told you back in that hospital and I'll tell you again and again until that message gets through your insanely thick skull. I am not a person above threatening those who hurt my family. If I need to remove every single one of your fingers permanently one-by-one to get that message across, then I will. You are nothing to me compared to anyone I actually consider family. If that didn't register yet, it means I don't think of you as family. So, you stay away from the ones I do. You back off Alaric, I don't care if he has your ring. I don't care that you are here because of some misguided notion that you need to protect Elena. I've been doing that just fine without you for longer than you will ever know. And I know about your resistance to Elijah's deal, but guess what, I trust him, the unknown mystery Original vampire and his enigmatic witches, more than I would trust you with anything more than a fucking pet rock."
I take a step back and I laugh. A laugh that is not humorous, nothing like the ones I shared with Elijah earlier. This one is cold and holding back barely concealed rage and disappointment and tears from both. "The funny part about this, is that I'm the one talking to you about this. You came here to protect Elena and get Alaric's ring. You didn't come for me. You don't even care about what I'm going through. I was getting tortured and you were off trying to play protective dad over Elena. You were busy degrading a deal and her trust in a man that wound up saving my life. You and Isobel keep choosing Elena and forgetting that you have two daughters. I may have been born second, but that doesn't mean that I am anything less…" I wipe the angry tears that slipped out. "Guess who was the one to teach me that: your brother. How ashamed of you would he be now."
And with that I walk away, grabbing my stuff quickly and slamming the front door when I leave.
I make it to Caroline's and for the second time in two days, I breakdown on her doorstep. My fear for my sister, my anger at John, and the aftershocks from yesterday all hit at once and I'm sobbing, leaning against her locked door. Caroline flashes in front of me and immediately crouches down to pull me in a hug. I try to explain through broken sobs, "It was John… and he … with Jenna… and the wolves… Elena…danger." She hushes me and holds me. Reminiscent of me doing the same for her a few weeks ago. I eventually calm down and she leads me inside. We change into pajamas and chill on her bed.
She explains the events of today. She takes my phone calls for me and reassures me that Elena is okay. The wolves tried something, but they are all dead now. We don't need more details. She also explains the ritual with Luka as I start to fall asleep. She mentions the answers they got. Particularly the fact that he always planned for Elena to die, for the doppelganger to die. My heart drops. I forgot that part.
My last thought before I fall asleep is:
What am I supposed to do now?
The next day, I meet Jenna at the Lockwood house. We trade documents. I brought the old property blueprints and a few more books that will be helpful to Elijah's research. Jenna has the other archive books and together, we have a good amount of specific things that relate to all aspects of his investigation, both legitimate and his cover story.
I panic when he walks up, but Jenna, being the awesome guardian that she is, immediately jumps in and starts leading him around. I can stay quiet in the background. Which Elijah notes with a few glances my way but remains listening to Jenna in his perfectly polite manner. How am I supposed to talk to him now? We were doing good and then my friends had to ruin it. No, my friends did the right thing. They didn't know what was going on and they took it upon themselves to question the enigmatic man's plan. I would've done the same thing. Still doesn't change the fact that I don't know how to talk to him. Or if I should.
I focus back on Jenna's explanation, "The old Fell property actually starts just beyond that fence."
Elijah smiles, "Ah, the Fells. One of the 'Founding Families.'"
"Why do you say it like that?" Jenna asks. I mean if you knew the history of them, it makes sense. They were assholes. Still are if you include the privileges that the descendants get. And yes, I recognize that I am one such descendant and benefit from the privileges but still. I mean, look at Carol, and she married into the family. I mean she came from the William's family, which came from the line of the now extinct Founding Family, the Byrd's. There are quite a few similar people (families that can directly trace their roots back to a Founding Family, but can't claim the name and property) around, but Carol's Lockwood status gave her a huge head. Well according to my mom who went to school with her back in the day.
Elijah's explanation is not the same as mine and goes, "My research showed me that this area was actually settled almost two full centuries earlier. It was a migration of townsfolk from the northeast. Um, it was Salem, to be precise." Is he seriously asking Jenna about the witches? Or just mentioning it, whatever the word is. What is his game here? With a glance to me, I know there is one.
"Massachusetts? As in the witch trials?" Jenna asks.
"Which means the ever-lauded founding families, they didn't actually 'found' anything," Elijah explains.
"Well, I bet it was the men who made a big deal about being founders in 1860," Jenna says.
Ok, I have to speak up. "It was the white men, if we are being specific. This land was founded way before your Salem refugees came here, Elijah. Virginia was home to many indigenous tribes prior to the 'settlement' of Jamestown for potentially thousands of years. Different tribes that had their own culture, their own religion, their stories about the supernatural, and their way of life. Each with a history that was purposefully erased by European colonization and replaced by the tormentors and traitors enslaving them and other people and calling it a new town with new history and that's the one of the Founding Families."
Elijah and Jenna turn to me and I continue, "The refugees of Salem were often the outcasts that were escaping being accused. I mean the original three women accused of being witches were a Caribbean slave, a homeless beggar, and an impoverished old woman: all outcasts and undesirable. Those same types of women were the ones that came here, looking for a better life and they wound up being enslaved just the same."
"Men are territorial assholes," Jenna agrees with me.
"Yes, they are," Elijah murmurs, looking towards a figure walking up. Alaric. Oh, territorial. I get it.
Jenna is the one to introduce them, "Elijah, this is my friend, Alaric Saltzman." She called Ric just a friend. In my head, I sing to myself 'somebody's in trouble.'
"Yeah, I got your message about walking Elijah here through the old property lines. I thought I would tag along. You know being a history buff and all," Alaric says. Wow, way to hide your jealousy, Mr. Saltzman.
"I think Emilia has got us covered," Jenna comments.
"Yes, she was just schooling us on the history of the indigenous people of this land and the Salem Witch Trials all in one breath," Elijah says. "It was quite impressive."
I'm not blushing. Mind over matter. I'm not blushing. Accept the compliment like a normal person. "Oh, it's nothing really." I turn a bit to Alaric, "I could've have done it without my esteemed history teacher."
He smiles at me fondly, "Emilia, I know you well enough to call you out for that total bullshit."
I smile back at him, "It totally was, but accept the compliment anyways."
He nods and says, "Thank you." I nod back and we turn to the other members of the group. Alaric asks, "Where to?"
Elijah answers, "I'm pretty curious about the freed slave property owners. Some say, you know, the descendants of the slaves are the true keepers of American history." It's amazing how he puts the pauses in to make himself seem more human. Should I really be noticing things like that?
"I agree," I say. He turns to me a small smile. "With a few caveats," I finish. He starts chuckling. I should stop. I'm supposed to be mad at him. He's sacrificing my sister. But god, he has a nice laugh. No, focus. Keep Jenna safe. And now Alaric, too, I guess.
Jenna speaks up, "Well, I only brought the surveys." She puts a hand on Elijah's arm and says, "I have that list in the car. Just give me a sec." And she walks off.
"Alaric Saltzman," Elijah says. By his tone, I can tell that I am going have to moderate another alpha male passive-aggressive conversation. "So you are one of the ones on Elena's list of loved ones to protect."
"So is Jenna," Alaric replies. Um, duh? You were more of a toss-up than Jenna was.
"You don't have to be jealous," Elijah says. Yes, exactly. "I don't really pursue younger women."
Oh.
Right.
Of course.
My heart shouldn't be dropping as much as it is. I mean, it's stupid. He's just been really nice and all that. I'm being stupid. I'm focused on saving Elena and I need to get back to that. I need to find ways to stop the ritual, not being distracted by a stupidly charming man. I let him shift my focus. So what if he saved me? I've saved plenty of people, the Salvatore's especially, plenty of times and none of them have acted like I have. He got an apology and a thank you and that's more than enough. I need to be focused on holding my end of the deal; I have been slacking. Dr. Martin more than saved me and Elijah saved Damon from the wolves last night and that's his part, I need to do mine. I've been spending my time crying and being weak and I said I wasn't going to be like that anymore. I can't be that girl anymore. I am badass. I am an insanely good researcher and I know everything. I need to get back to that and not be the girly-flirty girl. That's Elena, she gets the guys. That's not for me anymore. That's never going to be my thing. Information and weapons is my thing.
"Emilia," a voice draw me out.
Oh, yeah, Alaric is here.
"Yeah, I'm good," I say.
Alaric smiles softly, "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing," I defend. "Just thought of a title for my lab report."
"You were gone for a while, you sure that's all it was?" he asks. I could tell him. He is trustworthy. He gives me A's even when I piss him off. He wants to know me better. He likes me… But I'm not letting anyone into my stupidity. I've been weak. I've been senseless and naïve. I'm not… I'm not that girl anymore. I can't tell him.
"I was also writing my English paper a bit," I brush him off. "You know me and essays. Junior year, you know. Lots of work."
"Ok," Alaric accepts. "Let's catch up a bit. I know he was joking, but I still don't trust him."
Yeah, joking.
Despite his apparent desire to keep Jenna and Elijah separated, Alaric leaves the rest of us after about an hour. We keep walking around and exploring the town for a few more hours after he left. I'm back to my silence from the morning, and Elijah notices again. He keeps trying to bait me into historical debates and sadly, I fall into a few more than I like. I wanted to not engage, but damn, I wanted to win the debate on the Lost Colony of Roanoke. I still say that they became part of the Croatoan tribe, one that is known to have blue-eyed members, but Elijah thinks the Indigenous nation killed them despite no bodies being found. I'm not going to lie; I sulked a bit after getting roped into that debate. And even though he didn't win, I swear he had a smug smile on his face.
We eventually take a break by making our way to the Grille. I've been blaming my silence on being tired and hungry. Sucks that they actually believed it. Because of course, the first people we see walking in are Damon, his compelled girlfriend what's-her-face, and Alaric. Crap. Damon raises his hand in greeting and Jenna walks over to them.
"Hey guys," she greets. Elijah and I share a look and we follow. Shit. I was trying to not do that anymore.
"So, I hear you two had quite a meeting of historical minds today," Damon says. Really? I'm right here. The third person of the group. I know he's being himself and further feeding into Alaric's jealousy (even though he's like Damon's closest friend), but still, I am right here.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that about me," Jenna replies. She turns her head to face me, "But these two, for sure. I couldn't get them to stop debating."
"I mean I wouldn't take it that far," I shake my head. I really did try to keep out of some of them, I swear.
"I would," Elijah murmurs. I turn to him and narrow my eyes in annoyance. It only seems to make him radiate smugness more.
"Well, as much as I would love to continue this, I've got papers to grade," Alaric says. He starts to get up out of the booth.
Damon's compelled girlfriend speaks up, "No, you know what? We should continue this. Let's have a dinner party." What.
"Oh, my girl. Full of good ideas," Damon responds, hugging her close. I roll my eyes and gag silently. "I'll be happy to host." He turns to Elijah. "Say tonight, maybe?"
I have to learn this woman's name, but she says, "It's good for me. Jenna?"
Jenna and Alaric start speaking at the same time.
Alaric starts blustering, "I don't know if tonight works-"
Jenna immediately agrees, "Yeah, I'm free." Which stops Alaric's excuses in their tracks. He stares at her, and she smiles at him. He sighs, agreeing reluctantly.
"It'd be a pleasure," Elijah says. I turn to him with a look, like 'Really?'. He smirks and stares Damon down for a moment, almost rising to Damon's challenge. It's like he knows Damon is up to something and is daring Damon to try. I mean, that's not a hard guess. He turns back to me and I roll my eyes. "Of course, only if Emilia is there to accompany me."
"What?" I ask. I'm sure a few more people are thinking and/or said the same thing.
Elijah stares at me. I should be used to this by now. Wait no, no more of that. "I wish to continue our discussion on the history of this region. What better place to do that then during a party?" I think… he's being a little shit and referencing us leaving the tea party. Stupid charming man.
"You want me to come to an adult dinner party?" I ask.
Jenna speaks up, "You'll be fine if you come. You were great at the barbecue with Mason."
"Yeah, learning about your crush on an older man," Damon says. I turn and glare at him.
"Damon," Alaric warns.
"An older man, Emilia?" compelled-girlfriend asks. Seriously, who is she?!
"It was nothing. And we aren't discussing that anymore," I command. I turn to Elijah, "I don't think it's a good idea."
"I do apologize, Emilia," Elijah says. He shifts his body more towards the group before turning his head to me to say, "I had no idea that the adults would behave like children." His voice gets tighter and more threatening, but still remaining polite. "If this is their behavior towards you, I wonder if I should go as well."
Everyone starts denying and apologizing.
"No, really, Emilia, everyone will behave," Jenna summarizes.
I look at her pleading and everyone looking a little guilty, except for Damon, because it's Damon. I realize why they want me there. "None of you know how to cook, do you?" And then, even Damon is ignoring my asking gaze. Of course. Seriously, how is every adult here lacking in cooking skills?! Hell, Damon could compel a catering company or something. But since they all look guilty and Elijah is still staring at me, I acquiesce, "Fine, then. I will make something."
"And then you'll join us?" compelled girl asks with a polite smile. I think she works as a reporter for the town, but I still can't remember her name.
I look to the different people in the group. Jenna seems friendly and Alaric seems willing enough. Damon looks snarky so I look to his girlfriend who is still looking polite. I finally turn to Elijah who looks almost…warm. "I…guess?" I say hesitantly. Elijah smirks and other people cheer casually.
I can't believe I am doing this.
It somehow gets decided that I will cook everything in the Boarding House and Elijah will meet me there. It still seems weird for me to be there and I am tempted to sneak out multiple times while cooking. But Jenna shows up, bringing clothes and sending me up to change. I'm now wearing a navy cotton boat neck dress with long sleeves and a bright multi-color, floral pattern skirt. And Jenna keeps me occupied in the kitchen talking. We reminisce about dinner parties with Mom and Dad, where Jenna and my mom would sit in the kitchen and chat while dad cooked silently. Then she brings in Andie, as I learn her name is, to further involve me in conversation to keep me here. The two of them talk more to each other than to me so I send them out with the salad and to set the table.
The doorbell rings and I peak my head out to see if the 'guest of honor' is here. As anxious as I am about this, the nerves intensify with that sound. And they come crashing to a halt when I see who it is.
"Who invited him?" is what Jenna asks when she opens the door.
"John," Damon greets. "Surprise. Leave." Simple and succinct and completely true.
"When Jenna told me that she was coming to a dinner party for Elijah, I couldn't miss out on all the fun and games," John says. I turn to Jenna and give her a look. Her eyes open wide, apologizing. To be fair, this is a total John thing to do. She and I roll our eyes and she walks past me to escape the man.
"There are not going to be any games tonight, John," Alaric says coming in from behind me. "It's a friendly dinner party."
John notices me and I cross my arms across my chest. I raise my eyebrows and dare him to say something. He turns back to Damon who raises his eyebrows too. "What he said." And he passes John too. I turn and walk back into the kitchen without another word.
The second time the doorbell rings, I don't go. Damon gets the door instead. I was about to leave the kitchen and I hesitated. Should I really be doing this? I should stick to my plans and focus on research, on protecting Elena, on stopping the ritual like everyone else. But here I am, cooking for a dinner party that he invited me to. I didn't have to say yes, and I probably shouldn't have. But I did.
I did it for him. And I hate it.
And I hate that I don't hate it as much as I should.
I still manage to position myself in a way that I can overhear without being seen.
Elijah greets with a "Good Evening."
Damon replies with, "Thank you for coming. Please come in." Hmm, that was almost polite.
"Just one moment," Elijah says. "Can I just say that if you have anything less than honorable intentions about how this evening is going to proceed, I suggest you reconsider." And there's the reminder of why I shouldn't be here. Dangerous vampire and all.
"No, nothing. Nothing dishonorable. Just getting to know you," Damon answers. Suspicious.
Elijah agrees with me because he hums before saying, "Well, that's good, because, you know, although Elena and I have this deal, if you so much as make a move to cross me, I'll kill you and I'll kill everyone in this house. Are we clear?"
Damon pauses. "What about Emilia? Are you gonna kill her?"
I don't want to know so I quickly run to grab Jenna and I follow her in just in time to see Damon released and hear his response of "Crystal." I'm guessing to answer as a status of his now clear understanding.
Elijah's intense stare lightens to polite when he sees Jenna and it morphs into a smile. I'm not going to think anything about whether or not that smile had to do with my presence here. I imagine he would've smiled for Jenna. "Jenna, Emilia. Wonderful to see you. How are you?" he asks as he walks forward.
"Nice to see you," Jenna says. I nod the same from further behind her.
"You look wonderful," Elijah comments. I refuse to believe that it is anything other than a polite compliment for my aunt, who I will say does clean up nicely. It's not shocking that she has dated some really attractive men in the past. People still sometimes say that Elena takes after Jenna with her popularity and beauty. I don't receive the same kinds of compliments.
"Thank you," she says as we walk towards the dining room. I follow them there, but I take a quick trip into the kitchen to make sure everything is ready and to take a quick breath. When I get to the dining room table, everyone is seated. And the only open seat left is next to Elijah.
Deep breaths.
Once the wine is passed around after the salad first course, the conversation really starts flowing. Damon and John are at the heads of the table. Andie is on Damon's right, followed by Jenna and Alaric on that side of the table. Elijah and I are the only ones on our side of the table, with me between Elijah and John. I have never wanted to leave a table more than I do right now. I either stare at Jenna and her smiles or my plate of food. Luckily, I made a pretty plate of food (Lemon Shrimp Risotto and a Rosemary-red wine Pot Roast, both with roasted vegetables).
As the main course continues, Jenna brings up our day of touring. "I hate to break it to you, Damon, but according to Elijah, your family is so not a founder of this town."
Damon turns to the man himself, "Hmm, do tell."
"Well, as I mentioned to Jenna earlier, a faction of settlers migrated from Salem after the witch trials in the 1690s. Over the next hundred years they developed the community," Elijah explains. He turns his head to nod at me, "Emilia was the one who mentioned that they did this so they could feel safe from persecution."
"Because they were witches," Jenna says, taking a bite of the risotto.
"Yeah, but there's no tangible proof there were witches in Salem," Andie replies. I mean, there is plenty within the supernatural world and with people who can connect the dots between the supernatural and the mundane.
"Andie's a journalist. Big on facts," Damon says. I'm not sure which comment I dislike more.
Elijah turns to me, "We never did discuss the lore behind the change in landownership." He smirks behind his glass of wine.
"No," I agree, glancing at him from the side of my eyes. No, stay focused on the food.
"If I start explaining the lore, are you going to correct me?" Elijah asks me.
Oh, he's trying to start something, "Only if you explain it incorrectly," I reply. Damn, that came out flirtier than I meant it. I glance up to see Jenna eyes flickering between me and Elijah. I focus back on my food. Damn, I wish I could have wine.
"Well, I'll endeavor to do my best," he says softer than I should be concerned about. "The lore says that there was this wave of anti-witch hysteria sweeping this communities of this area. It broke out in the neighboring settlement, so these witches were rounded up. They were tied to stakes in a field together, and, uh burned." He lifts his glass of wine and continues, "Some say you could hear the screams for miles around us." He takes a sip as everyone processes. He turns to me, "How did I do?"
"Got a little more ghost-story than folklore at the end there," I say, peeking at him from behind my own glass. Stop it, Emilia.
"Aren't they quite similar?" Elijah asks.
"Similar enough," I say. Stop it now. End the comment there, but damn, he's baiting me. And I falling for it again. "but I tend to think of lore being a little more… adventurous. More intrigue, less screams. More mythology and less campfire tales."
"I think you can find all of those things within folklore. The stories of the indigenous peoples often have horrific beasts that are both mythological and invoke terror."
"Are you comparing the stories of the Skinwalker to your ghost story?"
"What if I am?"
"I would say you are wrong. Folklore has much more to offer than the fear of the dark. There's more mystery to it. More culture behind it."
"Fear of the dark is a worldwide phenomenon."
"I would say fear of the dark is more a fear of the unknown. And a biological response to our history of hunter-gathering."
"It doesn't change that it's a very common fear."
"And fear is a rush of stress hormones," I argue back.
"You can't say that there isn't an amount of intrigue with my so-called ghost stories. The fear that keeps you on your seat, invested in the story, hanging on every word."
"I will say that intrigue is not absent from your recounting of the story."
"Thank you."
"But that doesn't change the fact that folklore is more than ghost stories. There are fables and fairytales. Ballads and riddles. Myths and legends. It's a description of culture passed down verbally by generations. It is universal truths being depicted through individual experiences. It's a slice of the wonderous imagination of brilliant minds mixed with the beauty of the everyday. It's a blend of the supernatural and the mundane…" Crap, I'm ranting. I trail off and grab a sip of my drink, avoiding eye contact with everyone at the table.
Elijah, ever poised, laughs at me and turns to Alaric, and asks, "Can you pass the salt?"
There's silence for another moment before Jenna, the saint, says, "I still wouldn't tell Carol Lockwood or the Historical Society that they aren't the descendants of the true Founders." There are a few laughs around the table.
Damon speaks up next, "So why do you want to know the location of these alleged massacres?"
Elijah pauses and looks up from his plate, he takes a small breath before politely saying, "You know…a healthy historian's curiosity, of course."
And we go back to polite conversation and I go back to staring at my food.
The dinner passes without any more dramatic conversations or Elijah tricking me into any more debates.
Damon is the first to bring up the end of the meal, "Does anyone care for some cognac? I have a bottle I've been saving for ages."
"None for me, thanks," Alaric responds. "I think 9 bottles of wine is my limit." I chuckle at that.
Everyone starts standing up and Damon gives Andie a look. What is he up to? Andie turns to the group and says, "The gentlemen should take their drinks in the study." What is going on?
Elijah puts his napkin on his plate and stands as he says, "The food was almost as wonderful as the company."
He smiles at Andie and she quickly responds, "I like you."
Then his gaze moves to me. I panic a bit. "I made dessert," I blurt out a bit. Crap. I look away from him, "I'm gonna go grab that from the oven." And I walk away. Quickly. Ok, it's a speed-walk/run.
I'm a coward.
Jenna helps by cleaning the dishes. She tries to start a conversation about the ones I had with Elijah, but I shut down or divert every single one. I don't want to discuss it. I don't want to think about it. I just want to forget that I fell for every debate he roped me into. Or forget that I ever met him and made the stupid deal with that stupidly charming man. The apple crisp is taking longer than I had originally anticipated, so I send Jenna with the message and some tea.
"Sorry, guys, dessert is taking longer than Emilia thought," Jenna explains. "I wouldn't know. I usually just unwrap the food." There are some polite chuckles and she comes back in and asks me for an update.
I am pulling the warm desserts out of the oven and walking passed the door to place them on a cooling rack when I overhear Damon say, "Elijah, did John tell you that he's Elena's uncle-slash-father?" I stop. It's always about Elena. He's my messed-up relation, too.
"Yes, I'm aware of his connection to the twins," Elijah replies, unbothered. I mean I am bothered by it. The fact that he is the one to mention our connection, meaning mine and John's. I place the desserts down and focus on plating them.
"Of course, they hate him, so there's absolutely no need to put him on the endangered species list," Damon continues.
Andie shouts something to Alaric that I ignore to focus on the desserts. Damon has so many gadgets in here unused and I've always wanted to make homemade whip cream.
John speaks up, "What I want to know is how do you intend on killing Klaus?" I stop whipping the cream for a minute. No, I just need more sugar. That's all the pause is for.
"Gentlemen, there are few things we should probably get clear now," Elijah says, his voice dangerous. "I allow you to live, solely to keep an eye on Elena. I allow Elena to live in her house living her life with her friends as she does as a courtesy. If you become a liability, I'll take her away from you and you'll never see her again." I've been so stupid. I saw it earlier and I didn't stop myself. I let myself get wrapped up in this. He's an Original. He's a thousand-year-old dangerous vampire that just threatened my friends lives and is going to take my twin away from me.
I'm so stupid.
I drop the whisk in the finished whipped cream. Guess I didn't need the fancy machines. "Jenna, can you take over," I say. I continue over her confused excuses, "Just add a dollop on each of the plates. I have to… I have to go to the bathroom." And I run out.
I come back after a few minutes to see everyone minus Elijah enjoying the apple crisp. I turn to Alaric and whisper to him stoically, "What did you do to him?"
"What are you talking about?" Alaric asks, avoiding my gaze and shoving a spoonful in his mouth.
"Elijah. What did you do?" I ask. He looks up and starts to open his mouth to lie or defend himself. "I know I've been with him and all that. Whatever, I don't care anymore. He threatened my sister. So…what did you do to him?"
"I used the dagger," Alaric relents.
"The white ash dagger?"
"Yeah, I stabbed him with it, and Damon has the dagger now," Alaric says as he turns back to his dessert.
"Wait, you took the dagger out?"
"Yeah, he's gone. His body is in the cellar."
"No, he's not," I say softly as I realize. "You took the dagger out. It only works if you keep it in."
Alaric looks up at me in panic and I run out of the room. Alaric can make any excuses I need. I need to get to my sister. I try to focus on driving, but all I can think about is my stupidity and hopefully getting to see my sister before she potentially disappears forever. I somehow make it to the lake house, and I see Stefan's car parked out front. I know that doesn't actually mean anything about Elena's safety but it comforts me in the moments between when I spotted it and when I make it to the door. I run in to see Elena, still here. I throw my arms around her and she holds me tight. I hold her, either a hug or a gripping her arm the entire time Stefan and Damon figure out a plan. For once, I don't have anything to contribute.
Damon and I are standing in the back the whole time the plan happens. From the moment the pebbles break the window, I am tense. I am clutching the ends of my skirt in my hands. Trying to hold the fabric tight so I don't try to clutch something more dangerous. I keep breathing and trying to keep my mind off everything even remotely related to the situation at hand. No daggers. No Elena.
No Elijah.
I can't believe how weak I am.
I close my eyes when I hug Elena in the front hallway.
I can't believe I fell for this something like this again.
Stefan and Damon leave the dagger in when they leave him in the cellar. I hear them discussing it, but I focus on thinking over if I brought anything here to cook with. I don't want to leave anything of mine here.
Elena starts to leave the cellar and I smile at her tiredly. It's time to go home.
She turns back to the guys, "You know, you guys want me to fight, fine, I'll fight. But if we are going to do this, you can't keep anything from me anymore. From this moment on, we're doing it my way."
Damon says, "That seems fair."
Stefan agrees with an "Ok."
I walk into the group. I focus on their faces. On my sister and her new sense of life. On making sure she keeps hers. "I'm in too. Always, Lena."
She smiles. "Thanks, Lia." And she turns back to the guys and with a nod she says, "Ok" and walks out.
I pause for one moment at the end of the cellar hallway.
I grab my forearm.
I'll never be this stupid again.
A/N: This author's note marks 45 pages and over 13.750 words. Aka way longer than I thought it would be. I hope you guys like the moments between Elijah and Emilia. I hope it's been as fun reading as it was writing. I'm exhausted after writing all that, so I'll leave it there. I'll see you next time!