I do not own TVD or TO.
I know I've been MIA for a bit, but I'm getting into a bit of a routine again with work. With SAF it's not a lack of inspiration, it's that whenever I go to work on it my brain starts thinking about the sequel to it that takes place in Season 3 and 4 of the Originals, but I have about half of the next chapter for it written though and I'm hoping to have that one posted soon.
1914
She stared up at the imposing structure – three stories, Grecian columns, and towering turrets. The dark house bore little resemblance to what she had always considered a cottage to be; where she came from the term brought images of quaint and cozy buildings to mind, buildings filled with happy people and laughing children. The sprawling mansion before her invoked a sense of trepidation – larger than the Boarding house and Kol's home combined. The house would take days to properly search. She possessed the length of a Catholic mass, and being raised Protestant she was unsure how long the service afforded her.
She estimated an hour.
Her time slipped away the longer she stood rooted to the sidewalk, balking at her impossible task.
He had asked what she believed in and after everything she had seen and been through – vampires, werewolves, doppelgangers, hybrids and actual death – she had been unable to provide a true answer. How could she believe in someone who allowed horror to seep into her life?
She wasn't sure what she believed anymore, but she found herself praying for a miracle as she ascended the steps because she knew Kol would never gain an invitation from the dowager.
A length of wire and several spare hair pins weighed a hole in her pocket; she pulled them out with a deep breath and inserted the wire in the lock. She had picked more sophisticated locks than the state of the art 1914 technology before her, and she had done that drunk.
"Shh," Caroline stumbled, giggling, "you're gonna wake the neighbors."
"Then they'll call the Sheriff," Bonnie slurred.
"Are you too drunk to remember the security code?" Elena pushed up the sleeves of Matt's letterman jacket and wiggled the pin to click the last tumbler in place.
"How dare you?" Caroline gasped, full of mock indignation. She threw her unsteady weight into her gasp and stumbled.
"You were too drunk to search for your keys," Bonnie nudged the blonde with her hip.
"I know exactly where my keys are," she huffed, "they're in my locker. Oh…" Caroline clapped her hands; a half formed idea flashed in her unfocused eyes. "Let's go get them…"
Bonnie grabbed her arm, pulling sharply so that both girls stumbled against the porch rail.
"I'm not picking the school lock and getting detention on top of a grounding," Elena twisted the knob.
The door swung inwards.
She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. A round table stood in the center of the foyer with a single lamp the dowager had left to light her return. She picked up the lamp and moved towards the stairs, but a cabinet in the parlour caught her eye.
Hoisting the lamp aloft, she approached on silent feet. Her hand slapped over her mouth, stifling her startled shriek. Dozens of dead eyes stared out at her from behind the glass: heads stacked one atop another.
"Creepy," she breathed, making no attempt to hide her shudder. She turned away and prayed the search would not lead her back to the cabinet of doll heads.
Most people she had met kept the items they valued most close to them and locked away, but most people were not paranoid someone would steal into their homes in the dead of night – at least not to the point that they never left.
Her father had always kept his treasured items in the home office; a wall safe contained the Gilbert heirlooms and personal papers of the family. A typical house – mansions included – featured offices and studies on the first floor; she counted several that she knew of while peeking into each open door: the Boarding House, the Lockwood mansion, and Kol's house.
Locating a room full of shelves and a desk she gave a silent cheer, adding the cottage to her list.
The desk drawers slid open with ease and her heart sank, but she persisted in giving each a thorough search. Her efforts were rewarded with a black box; the satin lining revealed a large indent in the shape of a precious gem, but the diamond remained missing.
She replaced everything and checked her watch: twenty-five minutes. Her eyes flickered to the shelves, but she shook her head. A hollowed out book felt too obvious.
With the lamp in hand she oved back toward the parlour, pausing to open boxes and baskets along the path; every container came up empty. At the round table she checked her watch again: fifteen minutes.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to rack her brain for everyone she knew to be paranoid; only three names came up.
Katherine Pierce would have compelled someone to hold the item and plant decoys, or hold it on her person. The first scenario seemed unlikely, and if the second were true Kol would have the gem soon enough.
Klaus too would keep such an item on his person – provided it held no danger to him.
And then there was Damon – Damon who had hidden the moonstone in plain sight with artisanal soaps. Where would he hide a perfect paragon diamond large enough to fit in a decanter?
Her eyes snapped open. A glance at her watch showed twelve minutes as she raced into the parlour.
Astrid had thought she knew of chaos and death – the war had brought curse upon curse to the city – but never in her life had she known such needless violence. From the moment Mary-Alice drew her to the other side she had expected it in some way, and now her fears had come to life on a grander scale than she could have ever imagined.
She remained unsurprised, yet her voice stuck in her throat. Her heels clicked over the wooden floors slowly allowing her eyes to roam from one empty face to another as the feeling of horror mounted. Every face built up the rage until it burst forth, fueled by the final sight of a blood splattered pram.
"You're a monster," she jerked against Mary-Alice's hold.
"I didn't know what the dowager looked like," Kol wiped a spot of blood from his thumb. His stomach lurched but his voice came out cloaked in a heavy layer of indifference. "Best just to kill them all."
"You knew she didn't look like the altar boy," Astrid spat.
He hopped down from his perch on the alter, ignoring her outstretched finger. He knew what he would find at the end of her point: crimson stained white silk and unseeing eyes.
"I was parched," he shrugged, catching a glimpse of his blood streaked skin. He would need to clean up; luckily he kept some clothes at the compound. She need never learn of his lost control. "I'm off to a family dinner now. I'll see you later tonight."
He strode around the pair towards the arched doors, but froze in his tracks.
"We are not helping you!"
He spun around to face them. Their hearts stopped when he glowered, but Astrid maintained her determined stance. His eyes cut to Mary-Alice. The blonde relented, addressing her friend over her shoulder.
"We've come this far, Astrid." Her breath caught in her chest when she turned back and Kol grinned before pressing a quick peck to the corner of her mouth.
He vanished into thin air, and she touched the blood clinging to her upper lip.
Mary-Alice cleaned her face with a handkerchief and stared at the stain for a moment while drawing in a slow breath.
"I'll meet you outside the cottage at nine," her voice sounded distant to her ears. Astrid's came from further away. "I have something to take care of."
Astrid waited a few moments before following her friend's path out of the church, but by the time she stood on the steps Mary-Alice was gone and a woman was coming to a stop, bending over the railing to draw in quick breaths.
"Good evening, Elena," her voice sounded hollow.
The brunette's head snapped up as she reached for her left hand with wide eyes.
"Your coat is distinctive," Astrid breathed, descending the stairs.
Elena's shoulders sagged with relief. She straightened up and swallowed. "Have you seen Kol, Astrid? I was hoping to catch him before he went to dinner."
Astrid tilted her head, looking down the last three steps into the doppelganger's bright eyes; Elena bounced on the balls of her feet, practically vibrating.
"The last I saw him he was inside," she jerked her thumb over her shoulder.
"Thanks," Elena's eyes narrowed. There was something unreadable in Astrid's gaze, but she shook off the feeling and hurried inside.
Astrid watched her go, listening for a moment to the reigning silence before making her way down the street.
Inside the chapel Elena paused.
"Kol," she called softly, knowing he would hear her. The smile slid from her lips and the blood drained from her face. She wondered what it said about her life that her first response was not to scream.
She rushed to the first body and sought a pulse. She hurried from body to body in search of anyone still alive. She had no idea what she would do if she located a survivor; medical attention wasn't exactly a phone call away. The only thing she could do was hold their hand, but everyone – all twenty-seven bodies – lacked a heartbeat.
She ripped her bloody gloves off and fell back against the alter. The wood dug into her back. Her fingers tore through her hair knocking her hat from her head and dislodging several pins.
A soft rustle drew her attention to the corner of the room. Loosened tendrils of hair tumbled around her pale face as she climbed to her feet, gloves and hat forgotten.
The pram sat half-hidden behind a column. Blood dripped from the polished wood to the tall wheels.
Her heart thumped.
Holding her breath she inched closer until she heard a second rustle at which point she sprinted the remaining distance and bent over the open basket. Large blue eyes stared back.
"What troubles you this evening?" Rebekah scrutinized the brewing storm behind his eyes over the rim of her wine glass.
Silverware clinked. Three sets of eyes locked on his profile, searching for what Rebekah had already noted in his silence and picked over food.
He loathed his baby sister's perceptive nature. He never could lie to her.
Nine hundred years of life – six hundred years of awareness – and he had never hidden anything from Rebekah. Every time she caught him in a lie – as a mischievous child there had been many instances – he always told her the truth and brought her in on the game, but there were some things she could never know; at least not while they sat in present company.
Horrified screams, empty eyes and toppled furniture flashed through his mind; he did what came naturally after centuries of practice and shoved the rising guilt down to be buried with everything else he refused to acknowledge for the sake of his sanity. Then he did something that had never come naturally.
"Nothing," he lied.
"I believe that is the first lie you've ever told me," she cocked an eyebrow and sipped her wine.
"Not still upset about that woman, are you?" Klaus smirked when Kol's jaw ticked.
"I'm certain I will regret asking this," Elijah sighed, "but what woman?"
"I found her in his house yesterday," he grinned. "She ran out of there so fast," his eyes flickered to Kol, "I'm sure that must have been bruising to your ego."
"Did you stop to think she ran from present company," he gritted his teeth, "and not past?"
"Nonsense," Klaus scoffed, "I happen to be delightful company."
Rebekah choked on her wine.
Elijah bit his tongue.
"She was of a different opinion," Kol tilted his head.
"There was something familiar about her," Klaus hummed. "Have I met her somewhere before?" His eyes hardened.
The blood drained from Kol's face.
"No."
"Perhaps I should remedy that –"
"Stay away from her Nik," his tone betrayed his annoyance.
"In case you've forgotten little brother, I don't take orders from you."
"Niklaus," Elijah warned, catching a glimpse of Kol's features.
"Don't fret Elijah," Kol glared, "I will refrain from starting a fight."
"That's unlike you," Rebekah frowned.
"I have a previous engagement," he stood, pushing the chair back with a screech, "and I would hate to be late."
"We'll see you at the Christmas Eve ball?" She twisted in her seat.
"Don't count on it," he murmured and flashed away.
"Well done, Nik," her shoulders slumped, "you've driven him away."
"By all means, sister, chase after your favorite brother," Klaus snatched up his wine glass.
Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away…
Kol pushed open the iron gate and stepped through, pausing to watch the firelight flicker over the faces of the Christmas carolers. The small group paid him little mind in favour of the bonfire and their song.
… Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold…
Mary-Alice fixed the head of a porcelain doll to the fence post and murmured a spell under her breath, sealing the house against the unwanted visitors.
… ding dong ding dong, that is their song, with joyful ring, all caroling…
Kol moved up the path as the music continued behind him, following him over the porch and to the door where he paused. His brows drew together as he caught the lingering scent too faint to properly identify.
The door swung inwards to reveal Astrid. He shook away the feeling and stepped over the threshold. Pulling off his gloves he tucked them in his pocket and accepted a Gaslamp from a smiling Astrid.
"Alright, darling, you know what to look for."
He watched the witches take off in opposite directions before following the light floral scent through the entry to a glass cabinet. The gas lamp reflected off the empty eyes of several dozen disembodied doll heads.
"Creepy," he muttered, opening the cabinet. Heads rolled over the hardwood as he tore the cabinet apart before moving on.
The parlour held five jewelry boxes; he emptied them all and kept one ear on what was happening through the house. Mary-Alice and Astrid made no attempt to keep their actions silent, nearly drowning out the music on the street.
… on on they send, on without end, their joyful tone, to every home…
He caught sight of the bar from the corner of his eye; the promise of a stiff drink called to him and he abandoned the wicker box in his hand. He held out the lamp to examine the liquor on offer: bourbon, scotch, wine.
Rainbows reflected on the wall.
He froze, staring at the effect. Lowering the lamp he tilted his head and picked up a bottle stopper, peering at the sparkling interior of the stone; it glinted grey and white.
"You sly old bat," he smiled. His grin turned to a smirk when Mary-Alice and Astrid stepped into the room. "Clean up. Meet me at the cemetery. This little beauty and I have a date with a dagger."
He didn't wait for a response before fleeing the house.
"He's such a fiend," Astrid seethed. She surveyed the damage with narrowed eyes.
"He is," Mary-Alice agreed, "but so am I." She toyed with the bottles on the bar. "I spelled the door to his clubhouse shut. If he wants his precious dagger back he'll need a Claire witch to open the door."
Astrid spun to face her friend with a line between her brows.
"All this time I thought you were blinded by your lust for him."
"I know what you thought," she snapped.
"This doesn't have anything to do with-"
"No," the reply came too fast to be convincing. "Come," she took a deep breath and plastered on a smile, "let's explain to him that if he wants his dagger back he'll have to start acting with a little decorum."
Kol paused outside the cottage, listening to the sudden silence. The absence of carolers set him on edge but he didn't know why until he passed through the gates and his arms were taken.
"You're looking very dapper this evening Kol," Klaus grinned, "I don't believe I mentioned that earlier."
"Though, gloves without a tailcoat?" Marcel hummed. "Unusual, wouldn't you agree Klaus?"
"I would," Klaus nodded. He paused and held up a finger. "Unless, of course the gloves are utilitarian in nature…"
"I didn't realize you lovebirds were so interested in fashion," Kol sighed.
"I can take it or leave it," Klaus shrugged. His lips curled in a slow smirk.
"Did you follow me brother?"
"It's always best to know where the hurricane is brewing, but no, I did not. The mayor came to me concerned about the rash of thefts in the city, so I put Marcel on it…"
"After a little digging, and a little compulsion, I formed a theory, so I had my informants follow out suspect…"
"And he led them here, to the mansion of the Dowager Fauline – who rumour has it met a grisly end earlier this evening. You know," Klaus met his brother's eyes, "she's famous for her collection of rare and priceless jewels. Most notably, of course," he reached into Kol's pocket, "the perfect paragon diamond."
The jewel glinted in the moonlight. Klaus nodded to a nearby woman in black who began chanting over the doll's head.
"I don't know what your plan was, but I wouldn't bother waiting for them," Klaus smirked over his shoulder at the mansion, "they will never leave that house again."
She sat cross-legged before the tree with a needle in one hand and two bowls at her knees. Every few seconds the sturdy weight between her legs would shift, forcing her to lower her garland with a deep sigh that lacked any true exasperation or malice.
"If you keep this up, my cranberry to popcorn ratio is going to be skewed."
A cranberry disappeared from the bowl.
"I suppose you're right," she sighed. "A whole lot of popcorn with cranberries throwing in for colour is nice too," a second berry vanished, "but you've got to leave me some berries."
A third berry fell against the floor, rolling under the tree. The weight between her legs lurched after it, vanishing beneath the greenery.
She giggled, placed the half-finished garland on a nearby table and lowered herself onto her stomach. Reaching under the tree she snatched the choking hazard and placed it on the table. She prepared to reach beneath the branches again, but was stopped by a slamming door. The branches rustled but there were no signs of distress from under the tree so she sat up in time for Kol to storm in.
He had replaced the crystal vase Klaus had broken with one of porcelain and it toppled from the table as he strode into the parlour.
She cringed, glancing at the tree.
"Damn him," he seethed, kicking over an end table.
"Problem?" Elena slid onto her belly. "Was dinner lacking in holiday cheer? Or is it mass that's set you off."
In his rage he missed her biting tone. He paced in front of the fire, attempting to stifle the urge to tear the room apart with his bare hands.
"Kol," she prompted, stretching her arms under the tree.
"I went to the cottage," he curled his fingers into fists. "Niklaus followed me."
"Naturally," she murmured, "likely exercising his power as an invasive ass."
His mouth quirked up in a wry smile, but his humor faded.
"That invasive ass took the diamond," his voice dropped to a growl, "and had one of his witches manipulate Mary-Alice's boundary spell. He turned the cottage into an inescapable prison. I have no diamond, no witches, and no way of protecting you!"
"What about – what was her name – the woman who made the rings?" She slid forward on her stomach, but her fingers came up short.
"Freya left town this morning and will not return for a week," he shook his head, "and even if she were here, Kemiya requires two witches; I shall have to start at the beginning."
"So, what you're saying is you have no witches, no gem, and no dagger…"
"I have a dagger!"
"Mary-Alice sealed the tomb with some kind of blood spell," Elena nudged the sofa with her toes. Her foot brushed Kol's leg when he moved to pick up the short note. "I don't know why she sent that to me."
His eyes scanned the page, heart beating faster with each penned word.
"No witches, no diamond, no dagger," she continued, "and twenty-seven people dead for no reason."
He stiffened, focusing his gaze on the back of her head. His voice emerged in a whisper.
"You went to St. Anne's?"
"You mean the site where you massacred over two dozen people – including the altar boy?" She pushed up on her hands, twisting to glare at him.
Her head barely reached his knees, but her eyes managed to make his heart clench.
"You were never meant to see that," he twisted the letter in his hands.
"And that makes it alright?" She struggled to maintain her anger in a low voice.
"Yes," he threw up his hands, "no," he groaned. Ignoring her wide eyes he fell to sit on the sofa next to her and ran his hands over his head to grasp the back of his neck. "I don't know."
"You don't know?" Her voice cracked. "Twenty-seven people are dead and you don't know?"
"I had to kill the dowager," he propped his elbows on his knees and brought his hands together. "It was the only way to gain access to her home. She needed to die…"
"Twenty seven dead," Elena whispered, blinking back tears, "including the altar boy."
"I didn't know what she looked like," he swallowed, "and once I started…" His gaze dropped to his joined hands. "I never learned control Elena," he met her eyes again, "I was so angry after turning that I didn't want to… until tonight. I told myself I would only kill the woman old enough to be her, but then the bloodlust took hold of me…"
"You could have waited," she whispered the words, "come up with a better plan… saved innocent people from losing their lives."
He shook his head, exhaling sharply.
"It couldn't wait, love, Klaus came too close to discovering you. Eventually Freya's glamour will wear off completely and when it does nothing will stop him. The dagger is locked away, the diamond resides in my brother's care, and even if I had both it would take months – time we do not possess – to train witches in the art."
"You could have waited," she snapped, "for an alternate solution."
Her grey skirt reached nearly to her ankles and boasted deep pockets hidden in the pleats; she rummaged in one for a moment and then slapped a folded sheet of heavy paper in his hand.
He cast a questioning glance at her as he unfolded the page to reveal a sketch of a paragon diamond. He tilted his head, scrutinized the image and came to the conclusion that the picture was a perfect copy of what he had recently held in his hands.
"You drew it?" He cocked a heavy brow.
"Nope," she popped the 'p'. Her eyes flickered to the page. "I did not draw that, but as it turns out I can make a very convincing…" she drew her hand from her other pocket, burying the sharp point of the star into his palm, "… copies."
He grunted when the blade pierced his flesh. Putting down the paper he pulled the devil's star free and watched the single cut knit itself back together before he sought out her eyes.
"You didn't find the diamond," she licked her bottom lip, "and Klaus doesn't possess it, I do," she held out her hand for the page.
"This is the diamond?"
"Yes."
"Klaus has a copy?"
"Yes."
"So, technically, I possess it?" He smirked.
"I'd love to see you take it out," she scoffed. A trace of amusement flashed in her eyes.
"Very well, darling," he chuckled, "you possess it."
"That's right," she tucked the page away, "finders-keepers applies in this situation; at least until everything else falls into place."
He examined her smooth features with narrow eyes.
She saw his gaze and frowned.
"What?"
"Nothing," he sighed, "you're just taking this mass murder rather well."
"I'm not taking it well," she gripped her skirt. "People are dead because you couldn't control your bloodlust. How many innocent people have died because you couldn't control your bloodlust? Do you know the number after nine hundred years? Did you ever count?"
"I know the exact number of bodies left in my wake, Elena. I remember every face, every lost life. I assure you darling that in another nine hundred years I will remember the night I killed everyone in that church."
She searched his earnest gaze for a long moment before her eyes were drawn to the rustling branches of the tree. She released a breath as something small thumped on the hardwood.
"What the bloody hell is that?" Kol's eyes narrowed. His mouth twisted into a frown as Elena spun around and lay out on her stomach to poke her head under the tree again.
She shimmied forward a few inches and his eyes traced the length of her spine, admiring the drape of her skirt. She wiggled enticingly as she moved into place and gave a tiny grunt of exertion. He had to admit he enjoyed the sounds she was making, but then a second sound came from under the branches: a high pitched giggle.
The laughter swelled as Elena backed up, shifting onto her knees.
His eyes grew round and for a split second he forgot how to breathe as curious blue eyes turned on him.
"What is that?" His eyes flicked to Elena.
"You missed one," she swallowed, cradling the small baby to her chest. "I know you're old, and that it's probably been awhile, but you should be able to recognize a baby."
The boy regarded Kol with nothing but curiosity in his eyes and he had yet to scream blood murder; those coupled facts told Elena her suspicions were likely correct.
"It seems he slept through the entire ordeal," she bounced the baby gently before setting him on wobbly legs.
"And you brought him here?" Kol backed up an inch when the baby reached for him. "Why?"
"Was I supposed to leave him there, surrounded by the dead?" She chewed her bottom lip. "I couldn't do that. I brought him here until I could find his family."
"Klaus thought you looked familiar," he listened to her pounding heart, "it's only a matter of time before the glamour wears off completely, if it hasn't already."
"I can't go outside," her breath shook. House arrest, again.
"Not until the glamour can be renewed," he shook his head, "and as I've said Freya will be gone for a bit."
Elena nodded and took a deep breath. Her eyes shifted back to Kol. "I guess that means you'll have to do it," she got to her feet, balancing the boy on her hip. "Let's call it your penance."
She headed to the door, pausing when he called out.
"If he has no family?"
Elena turned her eyes to the baby. He had stuck two fingers in his mouth. She watched him for a second and then glanced back over her shoulder. A lump formed in her throat.
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
2011
"There's no chance I can talk you in to staying, is there?"
Elena paused on the sidewalk. She pivoted on her heel and came to face him with a playful smile on her lips. Her eyes twinkled.
"You are nearly a hundred years old. Do you really want your old mom hanging around?" She held his elbows in the same way she had as a child; the only difference being that she didn't have to kneel down to his level anymore.
"I've missed you," Thierry shrugged, "Marcel has too, even if won't admit it. I just have to prepare myself for when we get to the end of the street and you leave New Orleans."
"If you want I could stay; it would piss Klaus off enough that he would probably come looking for me." She tilted her head, releasing his arms to clap her hands together. "I could stay and show your lovely girlfriend you baby pictures; tell her about the time when you were three and refused to take a bath. Do you remember? You went running out the front door completely naked."
"You know what," he spun her around by her shoulders, "on second thought; you've been waiting almost a hundred years for this. I'd hate to take that away from you."
Elena laughed as they came up on Caroline and Bonnie where they leaned against the car. Caroline flashed a cheeky grin.
"So this street you lived on… was it crowded?"
"I forgot you were a vampire," Thierry muttered.
"Very," Elena grinned, "and it was right about the time people were returning from work."
"Mom!"
"Sorry, sweetie," Elena giggled.
"Why do I get the feeling that this car ride will be filled with embarrassing stories about me?" He crossed his arms.
"Mothers brag about their kids," Elena smiled. She stood on tip toe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I know it's been eighteen years, but that's no excuse for not calling your mother."
He rolled his eyes. "I'll text you every day and call as often as I can," he promised, "I love you, mom."
"I love you, too," Elena adjusted her purse. She took the second bag from Thierry and loaded her things in the trunk. With one last goodbye she climbed in the car.
What did you think?
What was your favorite part or line from this chapter? Predictions for the next one? Will Elena succeed in staying hidden from Klaus?