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25th May 2009
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Katerina Petrova wakes up with her heart hammering in her chest. She can remember what happened in fleeting flashes between each neck snap.
Klaus has found her.
She doesn't stifle a sob, she's far too good for that, far too composed. But fear does lace through her, zings in a way only it can, blazes in a way only one of the Original brothers could ever make it. She stays still, keeps her breathing shallow and it's the first time her neck isn't snapped within two seconds of her waking. It's also the first time she wakes on a cushioned surface.
Slowly, so painfully slowly for a vampire, Katerina peels her eyelids back to peer at the room she's located in.
It's not a torture chamber, not that there are very many of those around in this day and age. Though if she'd expect anyone to have one in this modern era, it'd be Klaus. And yet... she's not there. In fact, this looks remarkably like a hotel bedroom, all generic walls and pictures and a bedside phone that's so clearly been destroyed.
She tries the window first, not even surprised when she can open it but not place a single limb through it. The en-suite is her next port of call; same situation. She can step inside the room, but exiting through the small window is a no-go. The final door... the final door she doesn't want to open. She's trapped worse than she's ever been (trapped in a way only her nightmares have ever managed) and she knows what awaits on the other side of that door. She doesn't want to open it.
She doesn't have a choice.
The first thing she thinks is that this is remarkably less luxurious than Klaus' usual haunts.
The second thing that registers is the fact her own face is staring back at her.
Of course. Elena Gilbert, her latest descendant and, finally, the next doppelgänger. While it's less than ideal that she's already here in Klaus's grasp (gives her one last thing to bargain with), she can deal. After all, there's still the location of the moonstone; that's still a card she can play. Klaus might have his doppelgänger but he'll still need the final ingredient to his ritual. Her main aim needs to be not ending up as one herself; he needs a vampire to perform it, doesn't he? That's her main selling point here, the location of the moonstone.
She valiantly ignores the fact he could just compel it out of her, ignores that she's clutching at straws here.
The doe-eyed Elena stares at her, dainty hands balancing a camera between her fingers, thumb rubbing back and forth over the main button. It's an old device, the kind that prints the picture. There's three on the carpet around her already, each one featuring her smiling face. Vanity still haunts their bloodline then.
"Hey." Katerina starts soft, starts friendly. Who knows how much the girl actually knows, after all? "Mind telling me where we are?"
"Miami," Elena declares, a smile lighting her face as she rises to her feet, camera now on the coffee table and hand scratching at the back of her head. "It'll be sooo good to sleep in a real bed for once."
Before Katerina can begin unpacking that sentence, another voice chimes in, the very one that had dogged her since the day she turned, the one that has whispered dark, twisting promises of what will happen when he finally catches up to her.
It's remarkably lighter than she recalls it being.
"If you had your way, Love, it seems all you'd do is sleep."
Katerina dearly wishes to swallow her own tongue; it would be much easier to keep back any and all retorts that wish to escape her mouth right now.
Her clueless descendant lights up, twisting on her heels bouncing out of sight. Katerina could follow her path if she just got up and moved, if she acquired a better angle to peer out of this bedroom with. But she doesn't want to get closer to the source of that voice.
In the end, as always, the curiosity and need to know wins out.
Katrina slinks closer to the doorframe, utterly unsurprised to find she cannot pass through this too. She does get a good view of Elena balancing on a stool by the breakfast bar, plucking up a sandwich (sausage and smothered in ketchup, god, even their tastebuds are the same, Katerina would kill for one of those right now) as she slouches across the worktop.
The view of Klaus sitting beside her sends a jolt of primal terror through her so potent that she stops breathing for a moment.
Those eyes, blue and green all at the same time, slide over to look at her, though there's no surprise on his face.
"Ah, Katerina. You're finally awake."
As if he hadn't been the one snapping her neck, putting her down again and again until it's advantageous to him for her to be up and about.
"Laziness must run in the family then," Elena muses and Katerina quickly adjusts her list on just how much the girl knows. She's in Klaus' presence and not terrified out of her wits, so she can't know about the sacrifice.
Katerina had assumed the worst upon seeing her own face plastered over the news, had assumed her latest descendant had been kidnapped and delivered to Klaus. So, this isn't a surprise. Irritating, yes, but no surprise.
Elena licks a splattering of sauce from her thumb and Klaus' eyes follow it, his own food held between his hands, currently untouched.
It does not go unnoticed that this is a meal for two.
"You know, I'm well aware that you've been planning on handing me over to Klaus at the opportune moment for a sacrifice," Elena begins around a mouthful of food and Katerina is re-evaluating again, mentally scrambling. "So, in the interest of being fair, I'll give you the facts to work with too. The sacrifice is done, curse broken, I'm a key ingredient in the hybrid-making soup and I'm cool with that. That's the basics, I think?"
And she turns to Klaus, head tilting to a side. He lifts one sock clad foot in response, planting it on her chair, toes working under her thigh.
"You missed how I've yet to decide how to properly punish my runaway doppelgänger, Little Love."
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Watching Katerina scramble is an absolute delight. He finally takes a bite of his own meal, watches as Elena polishes hers off. He pushes a second one towards her: she takes it ravenously, tearing into the bread and meat like she's got two pints of blood to replenish. Oh wait, she does.
Klaus takes another bite.
Katerina's still standing by the door to the room she's now caged in, staring at them both as her scheming little brain whirls. He's spent many decades daydreaming about how he'll punish her when he finally catches up but now that he has... he can't decide.
Until he can, he'll cart her around with them. One quick compulsion to never run away from him, to never hurt Elena (that's the most important one; he'll get Greta to spell a Katerina-forcefield around Elena in the morning), and to protect Elena on the off chance he's not around to do so; then they'll be set.
Elena wobbles over to the coffee table, returning with her old-fashioned camera, the one he'd bought her (she'd left with nothing but the clothes on her back and he'd been in an exceptionally good mood upon retrieving his perfect little doppelgänger). She angles it up as Klaus smiles, cheeks half-puffed out with the sausage sandwich he's only halfway through chewing. He knows it'll be a 'cute' picture, exactly what Elena wants for her little scrapbook. She's tilted it 'Niklaus Mikaelson & Elena Gilbert, a Study in Kidnapping'. Apt. Amusing. Hardly appropriate but he doesn't care much for that and neither does Elena, it would seem.
Is he purposefully ignoring Katerina? Perhaps. She deserves to be sweating, to be terrified.
(Just as he had been as the doppelgänger slipped through his fingers and his chance of breaking his curse had gone up in smoke)
"Yeah, that's a keeper," Elena croons, waving the photograph back and forth before taking her seat again, thigh coming to rest above his toes once more. It's comfortable and now, with his curse broken, with the beginnings of his hybrid army, with the assurance of a defenceless father just waiting for him to slip a white oak stake (because by all the gods, Elena knows where to find that too), Klaus can just... exist. Can bask in his victory, the victory that has taken so long to arrive but has finally fallen perfectly into place.
He'll take out his father, get rid of the last of the white oak, establish his hybrid army. Then, he'll re-establish himself in New Orleans and wake his brothers and sister. He'll welcome Elijah back into the thick of things with open arms and he'll rule like a king with his trusted seer by his side.
"A keeper indeed," Klaus agrees, eyeing the better Petrova doppelgänger. Ensuring her bloodline comes first, securing plans for the future. Klaus doesn't doubt his ability to defend the girl, but even he cannot defend another against old age, not one he wants to keep human anyway.
Elena places the picture down to continue devouring her meal, utterly unbothered by the other Petrova woman who continues to watch them both quietly. Oh, Klaus is enjoying this, watching her panic and scramble to get up out of this hole she's found herself in, but she keeps slipping down the sides, unable to gain any purchase. He's won.
He's won with the Sun and Moon Curse, he's won with his hybrid army, he's won with his capture of Katerina. And victory tastes oh so deliciously sweet.
"I've took the liberty of making an appointment for you at the clinic tomorrow, Elena." He'd had to be... persuasive to get her in on such short notice but, after a few choice words, the receptionist had been bending over backwards to accommodate for him.
"Cool, can't wait. Not tryna be rude, Mr Biggest Bad, but now that I'm fed and watered, I'm gonna go crash, m'kay?" She's up and stumbling towards the other bedroom without waiting for his answer and Klaus rolls his eyes, rising to his feet a moment later. Scooping her up is sensationally easy; she only whines a little about the sudden motion.
Klaus tucks her into bed, brushing the hair back from her eyes so he can get another look at this perfect, victory-inducing face.
"Sweet dreams, Little Love. Try and make them useful to me."
"I'd rather have a wet dream featuring you," Elena mumbles, unashamed as she rolls to face-plant the pillow.
Klaus laughs, pulling the curtains shut before he strides out the room, reaching for his phone. They'll be leaving after the clinic tomorrow, so he best organise his family's transportation now.
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26th May 2009
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Elena wakes from the surgery (does it really count as surgery?) feeling more than ready to tackle the rest of the day. Once she's out of the hospital gown, that is. Peering up at the ceiling, she ignores the doctor, ignores the glazed look to his eyes that signals he's under compulsion, and looks for Klaus.
She's utterly unsurprised to see him sitting on a chair in the very same room, though the light dusting of water droplets, the slight darkening of his hair does imply he's been out and about instead of sitting in for her operation.
The rain still patters against the window, a soft, reoccurring sound. A natural lullaby.
"Hey, can we do a tour of Europe? I miss the food. Oh, and there'll probably be some foreign wolves you can snatch up too," Elena adds the last as an afterthought, getting up slowly, hands on the bed to support herself. She's nowhere near as sluggish as she probably should be, as she's expecting to be. There's a very distinctive taste to her tongue, thick and coppery and- oh. It's vampire blood. Klaus has given her a little boost. Naw, how considerate of him! Gathering up the upper half of her hair, Elena roots about in her pile of crap at the foot of the bed, peeling a bobble free. One the bangs are back and out of her face, Elena leaps off the bed, brushing down the cheap hospital gown before she bounces over to greet Klaus properly.
"Perhaps in a few years, Little Love. Getting established here in the states it our priority."
"Well, darn. I suppose a few years isn't too big a wait." Holding out her hand, Elena wiggles her fingers, waiting. She knows Klaus has got something for her, though she's unsure what it is. Only a vague dream (man, not even the good drugs can knock the mystic voodoo outta her) that he'd be handing something over. The near-pout on his lips drawls a giggle from her and Elena flexes her fingers that little bit more.
"Please and thank you!"
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It's a mug. A mug with 'this bloodline shan't die with me' forcibly cramped onto the side; she fucking loves it. She just hopes it's shatterproof because Elena does not have a good track record with cups. Maybe she can get Klaus to bully one of his witches into spelling it so?
"Hey, I assume we're going to go deal with your daddy issues now?" Slipping her hand into Klaus', Elena swings their joined limbs back and forth, giant sunglasses covering her face. Coupled with her heeled sandals, ash blonde wig and racy red lipstick, she'll hopefully look legal to everyone around them. And if not, well, then Klaus can send them on their way.
"You're a very tactile creature, aren't you?" He's dodging her question and they both know it.
Elena swings their arms with a bit more force, fingernails tapping against the backs of his knuckles. The click of her heels echoes in the street, bag bouncing against her hip. She doesn't feel like a girl who could have multiple children within the next nine months. And she didn't doubt there'll be at least one child before a year has passed; Klaus is bought but thorough on things as important as this.
"And you, Mr Mikaelson, are as evasive as ever."
He smirks, angling his own sunglasses so they catch the light, shoulders rolling back to relieve the tension he's accumulated throughout... well, however long it's been building up. Like he's carrying his whole world upon them.
"Come on, Atlas. Sharing is caring. What's on the agenda once the Original Vampire Hunter bites the dust. Or, becomes dust. Whatever, schematics." Waving the word waffle away. Elena pauses by an ice cream shop, nearly getting her arm pulled from her socket as Klaus continues to match down the street. Thankfully, he does stop after jolting her, one eyebrow high.
"Elena-"
"I'd like some ice-cream. It's nearly summer and we're in Florida. I am hot and dying for some toffee ice-cream. Please, Mr Hybrid?"
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They both get ice-cream. They sit on a bench, then Elena makes them move to a wall when the iron seating scorched the underside of her thighs. Freak of nature Klaus, who's still in jeans (triple digits again today; what is wrong with him!), laughs at her. He's so busy laughing, in fact, that a portion of his ice cream melts down his fingers. He licks it off and Elena tries not to stare.
But man, he's so attractive. That tongue could be doing so much more interesting things than licking up ice-cream.
"Alright there, Love?"
Elena hums, nibbling on the edge of her cone, licking the toffee flavoured residue from the creases between her fingers. "Oh yeah. Just imagining what else your tongue can do."
At that, Klaus laughs again, turning to look at her with a smile on his face. The sun blazing in his hair, his green-blue eyes alight with mirth, that god-forsaken dimple; it doesn't makes it immensely difficult to pretend every day will be like this.
Nah, this is just the honeymoon phase of their working relationship. Soon enough, the serious shit will need to be dealt with and Elena'll have to pull her big girl pants up to handle with it. Nothing says she can't entice Klaus into said pants, nor that she has to give up this easy relationship they have. It'll probably take some work to keep their lighthearted camaraderie going, but Elena's not scared of a bit of hard work.
"You are delightfully abrupt, Elena."
"Hell yeah, I am. After one life of watching my words and, ah, I guess the reassurance of having Mr Big Bad on my side has let the power go to my head. But you'll drag me out of any mess I get into, right?"
Klaus huffs a laugh, finishing the rest of his cone, licking the debris of sugar from his fingertips before he turns those pretty blue eyes on her.
"The only messes you should be getting in, Little Love, are the ones I make and allow you to play in."
"Sounds kinky." She wiggles her brows and he laughs again, reaching for her hair but he thinks better of it. Probably for the best; if he'd tugged on a lock and the wig'd come off, there'd have been some uncomfortable questions being asked of them by the nosy buggers walking by.
"Speaking of messes, we're heading out of state tonight."
"Oh?"
"Yes. There's never been a better time than the present to deal with my, as you so gently phrased it, 'daddy issues'."
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Katerina is in a coffin of her own. Oh, she's completely conscious, but compelled to remain there until he invites her own. Unable to make a sound, unable to call for any form of help or to trick others into releasing her. He's still deciding but, as Klaus has taken to lovingly reminding himself, he has literally all the time in the world. Especially now.
The corpse as his feet is still smouldering, the white oak stake already nothing more than ash. He's got a trio of compelled humans on the task of burning the bridge and the sign back in Mystic Falls, ordered to provide him with evidence of the destruction. He's taking no chances here.
A complete contrast to the daytime when she'd looked several years beyond her physical age, Elena now sits in the passenger seat of the jeep, the hood of her thin onesie pulled up and over her head. The stitched on eyes peer out of the windscreen at him, the girl's face illuminated by the man-made glow of her smartphone as she scrolls through the news.
Toeing the corpse once more (just to ensure he's really gone, just to ensure he's really dead), Klaus makes his way back towards their method of transportation, flicking his hand to the three hybrids that are on standby. They hustle forwards, to box up the remains. Can't have any silly little witches getting any ideas in their vapid airheads now, could he?
Slowly opening the door, Klaus climbs into the drivers seat, patiently waiting until Elena lifts her head. The space between them is still for a moment, the silence comfortable, and, then, she finally looks up. Eyes dark, the pale skin of her face creating a deep contrast as she looks at him.
"What's up?" She tilts her head to a side, plucking one earphone free, curling it around the shell of her ear instead. Klaus cups the side of her face with one hand, thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone. It's the first time in over five hundred years that he's been able to look at this face and know peace. Know prosperity.
"I'm not quite sure, Little Love, if you realise how quintessential a companion you've managed to make yourself into," he confesses, smiling and he's well aware there a thick layer of possessiveness oozing through his tone. The blood to make his hybrids, the visions to build his future. The amiable attitude to create a working relationship.
"Was kinda aiming for that," Elena muses, yawning, mouth drawn wide and pearly teeth flashing. "So, I've got a rough idea of what you want, I think. But I wanna make my intentions clear." She shuffles around in her seat, phone off, gaze focused. "I want to live a happy life. I want to share that life too because I like people; friends, family, whatever. I have every intention of dating and maybe settling down. So if you you don't approve of a person, you're gonna have to tell me before I get emotionally invested. Because to be happy, I need the safety and security that I can only get from you protecting me, being the doppelgänger and all."
"Oh, Love, you'll find there's very few beings on this earth I'll ever approve of."
"So it's settled then!" Elena chirps brightly, hands clapping before her body and an angelic smile on her face. It's remarkably at odds with his feeling of an trap has just closed around me and I didn't so much as sense it'.
"What's settled, Little Love?" he asks, amusement warming his tone because isn't it cute how she already thinks she can trick him? Hum, he must be in an extraordinary good mood to play along with this.
"Well, if you don't approve of anyone, I'll just have to date you instead."
Mentally titled this 'in which Elena makes her intentions clear'.
Enjoy?
Tsume
xxx