I know it's been awhile, but life has been insane. I have chapters and chapters written, they just need typed; its' finding the time to type it out and edit. More is coming soon with answers about Serena and Elena.
"Caroline, love, it's nearly two in the morning." He fought down his laughter when she tossed her bags down and made a beeline for the suite's door.
"I'm on Virginia time, and it's only seven there." She paused, spinning to face him with hands on her hips.
He boxed her in; one hand on either side of her shoulders.
"I doubt the entirety of Santorini operates on Virginia time."
"I don't need the entirety of Santorini on Virginia time," she rolled her eyes. I just need one witch from the coven. Are you really going to tell me not a single witch could still be awake at two in the morning?"
"Eager," he smirked, twisting a lock of blonde hair around his fingers.
"Klaus." She drew out his name in an annoyed groan.
"I understand why," he tucked the hair behind her ear. "This is the first lead you've truly had in a long time."
"Years," she licked her bottom lip.
He could see in her eyes the reflection of a ticking clock with more time than his, but counting down nonetheless; he would not be the least surprised to find a timer on her phone counting down to the second her girls turned twenty-two. He would have been surprised if there wasn't one.
"I'm sure we can find one."
She yanked him through the door before he finished speaking, and though he had said as much he stiffened when he spotted a single witch halfway down the street.
Caroline, being Caroline, noticed.
"That was fast." She followed his gaze to the swarthy man. Black curls swayed by his chin as his face shifted into a deep frown when he sensed their joint gaze. "Friend of yours?"
"Chrisos," he swallowed and cleared his throat. "He's the elder brother of a former lover: Lydia."
"I see," she clicked her tongue, too preoccupied for the short flash of irrational jealousy. "Do they hate you?"
"Hate is such a strong word," he hummed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Well in that case," she let go of his hand and waved, calling loudly to gain the man's attention. "Excuse me!"
His eyes snapped to her, widening when he spotted Klaus trailing behind.
"Hi," she came to a halt three feet in front of him, "my name is Caroline Forbes, and I hear you're part of the oldest coven in Greece."
"What is it you want?" He spoke in accented English, weary eyes flickering from her to Klaus.
"Answers."
"I know nothing," he shook his head and turned to leave.
"Chrisos," Klaus took a deep breath, "prospatheí na sósei tis kóres tis."
He paused, looking over his shoulder to meet Klaus' earnest gaze.
"Eínai to teleftaía didyma Didymoi," he placed a hand on the small of her back, catching — for a moment — her confused frown.
"Last twins, Gemini?" He looked to Caroline for confirmation. "Ancient curses. I still know nothing."
"You know its a curse," Klaus' eyes narrowed.
"Please," she held her breath. "They are my children. Anything will help."
"I know nothing," he repeated, expression slowly softening, "but Lydia… she may know."
Phone please," Elena held out her hand, palm up.
"It's only 6:43," he stopped the car and bit down his smirk. His fingers itched to dial; he'd had to force himself to take an alternate route so they wouldn't call to soon and then feared he would arrive too late.
"Do I have to climb over this console to get it?" She twisted, unbuckling her seatbelt.
"Not before dinner," he gasped, pressing a hand to his chest.
"Elijah," she rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the short laugh.
He chuckled, pulled her phone from his pocket and tapped the screen three times before placing the device in her hand. Her foot jiggled as they waited, after an eternity Landon's face filled the screen.
"Hey sorry," he shrugged, "Hope had her hands full; just a second."
They were staring at the ceiling for a beat before Landon settled on Hope's bed and they got a shot of the teenagers propped against the headboard. Serena sat in Hope's lap with her back to her chest and her hands wrapped loosely around the bottle Hope supported; she smiled lazily upon seeing them.
"Hello, baby," she smiled. "Are you being a good girl for Hope."
She gurgled as she finished her snack.
"She's been an angel and is just about ready to go to bed," she placed the empty bottle on the nightstand. Sitting Serena upright, she rubbed her back until she burped.
"Are you gonna say goodnight?" She murmured, settling the baby back.
Her chubby arm reached for the phone; Landon held it closer until she was the only thing on the screen.
"You look like you might fall asleep before your story tonight," Elijah smiled.
Sleepy eyes turned to him. She smiled, flashing a white incisor; that one tooth had caused so much pain — only sleeping cradled against his chest had soothed her.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," he echoed Elena's words, voices overlapping.
"Da," Serena yawned, "dadadadadada."
His car keys clattered to the floor. The string of sound cut off around a big yawn; she reached for something beyond the camera, interest seemingly lost in them as a thin book appeared.
Elena wondered whether 'If Animals Kissed Goodnight' had been sitting on there, or whether Hope had used magic to summon it… or if the slim volume had flown randomly across the bedroom? Things had started doing that recently, and half the time she felt certain she hadn't done it; it seemed growing within the walls of a magical school with a mommy who levitated forgotten things was helping Serena tap into her power early in life.
She caught a glimpse of Elijah's expression from the corner of her eye and ended the call with a final goodnight before lowering the phone. With her hands in her lap she waited a long moment and watched him stare at her phone.
Since the day she stabbed herself to dagger him she had been able to see every emotion in his eyes: anguish and terror then. Heartache a split second before he broke a hole in the earth. Self-loathing more times then she could count. In Willoughby, when she had wanted to run far away because his mere presence threatened the precarious switch, he had looked at her with a mix of grief and hope.
And always, Always, the unspoken thing she had begun to think of as Forever.
But this was different.
New.
She thought she might have seen it that day in the hospital.
"Elena," he breathed, all wonder blown pupils and a smile he didn't know what to do with; she watched him try to contain it: uncertain.
"Elijah," she smiled, tilting her head. In truth that first word felt natural, given the role he had taken on; one that she could see he wanted more than anything. She knew he wasn't going anywhere of his own volition and if he wanted the title then as far as she was concerned he had more than earned it; it was his.
As was her heart.
"Did she just…?" He trailed off, watching her nod. "Do you have nothing to say?"
"What should I have to say about that?" She fished, raising one eyebrow.
"Perhaps your feelings on this new development?"
"If I admit how I feel about it then so do you," she smirked.
Amusement lit his eyes as they seamlessly slid into a bargain.
"That seems like a fair deal," he nodded. "Ladies first."
"Honestly?" She pursed her lips, thinking of the best way to present the myriad of thoughts in her head. "I'm a little jealous," she settled on, "I've been trying to get her to say 'mama' for weeks."
For a long moment he remained silent, thinking, as she had, on the right words.
"I speak a great deal of languages Elena, and yet I cannot find the words to describe this feeling," he lifted her hand to his chest. His heart beat fast beneath her palm.
"Is it anything like how I felt in the hospital? Like my blood was champagne and I could have flown away for the effervescence?"
"Was this before or after the drugs wore off?" He chuckled.
"After," she rolled her eyes, "when I was holding her."
"Something like that," he nodded, eyes flickering to her fingers drawing random shapes along his shirt. "I feel like she's mine," he admitted, softly.
As an adopted child she knew better than most that family extended beyond blood.
"She seems to think so, and is hardly a wonder to why."
At his sudden look she shrugged and slipped her palm up, over his jaw.
"You've spent only a few hours a day away from her, and most of them only because of the class you've been covering for Caroline. She's a baby; she understands who's there everyday. I don't know where she heard 'dada', but she's associated that with you, and as long as you want that then so do I."
There had never been a doubt he would always be there; he had all but given his word once, and he did so again.
"I do."
Hope examined the picture over the top of Serena's sleeping head and grinned.
"Worth it."
He lost interest in his pages the moment her arm snaked around his torso and her even breathing fanned across his chin, choosing instead to focus on the wrinkle in her brow.
With his work safely on the nightstand he worked the spiral notebook free from between her stomach and his hip, careful not to tear the thin pages. A dozen precise diagrams surrounded the margins, creating a border of interlocked circles around an incantation; crossed out and rewritten so many times he could hardly tell what the original words had been, but he knew them; the failed spell from Davina.
Sometimes he wondered if she hadn't deliberately botched it.
He simmered at the thought for the thousandth time.
Bonnie approached the task of Elena's lost memory with increased frenzy — several crossed out spells having torn through the page. After every failure her agitation would grow, increasing the sloppy nature of the following attempt.
She acted like he had under Finn's hex, trapped in the deteriorating body of Kaleb Westphall and desperate to escape.
Only, as much as he longed to blame her, Elena placed no extraneous pressure on her friend. There existed no clock to tick away second after hopeless second, and yet…
Bonnie acted as if under a looming deadline.
Every crossed out day on her calendar tensed her shoulders a little more.
He sat her notes aside. Then he slipped his arm beneath her body and worked on the tight muscles below her shoulder blades.
She grunted her discomfort, but soon moaned under the skilled message and melted into his embrace.
He shifted onto his side and wrapped his free arm around her pressed gentle circles into the small of her back.
"A li'l lower," she mumbled, barely coherent.
"You should be asleep, darling," he murmured, lips against her ear. His fingers dipped down.
"Too tense," she hummed, whining when his hands left her body. She moved with him as he sat her up, peeking through mostly closed eyes.
He took off her shirt; gooseflesh rose across her stomach. He removed her bra and stared a beat too long before kissing her bare shoulder.
"On your stomach, love."
She kept cocoa butter on her nightstand. He spread some across his hands before touching the small of her back.
"So not where I thought you were going with this," she yawned, relaxing under the perfect pressure moving up her spine.
"Complaining?" He teased, making small circles with his thumbs. The soft quality of her voice told him she was drifting off.
"Maybe a little."
His hands worked across her upper arms and started back down her spine.
"What if I promise to wake you up with a more intimate massage?" He paused, spending some time on a tight spot near her ribs. "One that utilizes my tongue along with my hands?"
He felt the shiver of desire beneath his fingers and suspected she would dream of it.
"That would be nice," she murmured.
He continued kneading her muscles until she fell asleep. Then he lifted the blankets over her, took off his shirt and jeans and slipped into bed.
"One that talks?" She paced the length of her cage, back and forth, toeing the edge for a hint of weakness.
More space than the unending darkness and yet less. Her freedom lurked in the dark shadows beneath towering trees just beyond the window; close enough to taste.
Such cruelty, to make her watch the wind whistle in leaves and not feel it on her skin or in her hair — to smell the rich earth and be unable to touch.
Her fingers skimmed the back of a chair, devoid of the spark of life she longed to feel again.
She wavered hovering between her out of reach freedom and the task that would ensure liberation without fear.
From the corner of her eye she watched the man pace the outside of her prison and sit in another chair.
"Are you going to stand all night?" He asked, offering up the chair beneath her slender fingers as if they were having a civil conversation as equals and not captive and captor.
She ignored him and let her gaze flicker around the room; he went on.
"We figured out the pattern. The monsters come one at a time."
She cast him a sharp look. Who was this human to speak in such a way?
"I had to kill a wraith thing," he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He twirled the blessed, cursed, knife between his fingers. "A dragon, a goblin, an Arachne… and more; we've killed them all just to find one of you that can talk about why you want this so bad."
A monster? He called her a monster. He who slaughtered those that came before; those who came from the never-ending black?
"So now, it's time to talk."
She watched him through lowered brows.
"Why would I talk to evil creatures that kill?"
"You're calling me evil?" His mouth popped open. "You don't even know me."
Her nail dragged around the back of the chair.
"I know from your own lips that you are a murderer, from your actions," she waved a hand to the barrier spell, "that you are a liar. I know more of you than you know of me, so, I shall ask you again: why would I talk to evil creatures who kill?"
She fixed him in the stare that had once been labelled unsettling. The weight of her disapproval transferred to him. She could see the search for words, chosen and discarded and chosen again.
Outside, beyond the closed door, twigs broke beneath the weight of a great beast.
The click of the front door distracted her and she broke her glare to turn.
A second man entered, gaze fixed on the open book in his hands. He sensed them staring and looked up.
"Anything yet?" His eyes watched her with open curiosity.
"Just some light judgement…" he stood behind her, but she paid him no mind, drawn to the newcomer by the strength of his loss.
"You're a dryad, right?" Wonder laced his voice. "The living spirit of a tree?"
"You figured that out fast."
"You said tree like, and that didn't leave many options," he murmured, not taking his eyes off of her. "You are a dryad, right?"
Stunned, she could do nothing but nod.
He looked to the book in his hands, tracing a fine line of text as he read.
"It says here that, uh, dryads were gentle creatures who lived among humans."
Intrigued, she approached the curve of flowers and tilted her head.
He looked her in the eye; sincerity dripped from his tone.
"We're not your enemy."
She frowned, searching his words for the trick.
"We're just looking for answers."
"Humans are known to lie." She shook her head. The first man's scoff set her teeth on edge.
"So are monsters."
She glared over her shoulder before turning her attention back. Against her better judgement she wanted to trust him.
"There is a man I cherish named Oliver. If you bring him to me, I will believe you to be trustworthy," she shot another glare over her shoulder, "or what passes for it among your species." She faced forward again. "Only then will I answer your questions."
"Woah, woah, woah," he waved a hand. "We're not negotiating, right, Ric?"
Despite the dissent behind her she could tell this Ric was considering it. He wanted answers about the knife more than he wanted to distrust her. The audible gulp belayed his anxiety as he shut his book.
"Uh, what should we tell this Oliver?"
She reached up, mindful of the vines and twigs on her hands, and yanked a necklace. Candle light flickers on the simple gold ring at the end of the chain — her sole source of light in the dark.
"This ring belonged to him. If you show it to him he will come." She relinquished the ring into his hand. "I will give you no further answers until he does."
The first man, her captor, looked her up and down. "What if we don't take the deal?"
"Trees are patient," she sat in the wooden chair and folded her legs. Her gaze turned to the darkened window. "Human's are not."
He felt like he had barely closed his eyes when the knocking started. He glared at her alarm clock in the dim room. Truthfully, nine o'clock wasn't late for visitors, but anyone who would visit knew they had taken the overnight guard shift and hadn't slept in twenty-four hours.
Not a big deal for him, but he doubted he was the one they wanted.
He dressed quickly and raced down the stairs.
Kol's scowl clouded over when he yanked open the door and came face to face with the librarian; sans knife.
"Please don't tell me you lost it to the newest creature." Metal warped under his grip.
"Worse," Dorian fished a simple gold chain from his pocket. "Ric has made the executive decision to negotiate with a monster."
His heart beat fast with excitement.
"You've got one that talks?"
"A dryad; she refuses to say anything until we find some guy named Oliver. The ring belonged to him." He passed the chain to Kol who examined the gold band. "I thought Bonnie could do a quick locater spell."
"For her sake I hope this Oliver is a vampire. The ring is at least four hundred years old. Come on in; I'll attempt to wake up Bonnie."
"Attempt?" Dorian shut the door behind him.
"Once she hits REM sleep nothing can wake her."
Kol took the stairs two at a time, slipped into the bedroom and perched on the side of the bed. Sweeping her hair away, he bent until his lips brushed the shell of her ear.
"Bonnie."
She hummed, hugging her pillow tighter and protesting each call of her name with groans, but after a few seconds she managed to crack one eye open.
"S'not how you're s'posed to wake me up."
"Sorry, love." He sat back with a chuckle. "Dorian's here for a spell."
"What kind of spell?" She pushed up, yawning, blankets pooling around her hips.
"A locator spell," he handed her the oversized sweater from the armchair, "but I think astral projection will suit our needs better."
He smiled when she pulled on her sweater and groped blindly for the neck.
"You could pull him here for a short while, and then send him on his way."
"Why am I bringing some guy here?" She covered her mouth, yawning.