I do not own TVD or TO.

Sorry for the delay. I'm going to try and have each of the Original siblings featuring in every chapter from now on along with Dahlia, Elena and Caroline.

Anyone remember what I said about a potential crossover/cameo? Can you guess what it is after this chapter?

Would you believe I still haven't introduced the main villain I had planned for this story? Because I haven't, but I'm getting closer.

Sometimes I think: let's just bring them in and have 'em duke it out, but then I stop and I go 'no'. When I write I try to create an image of someone's life, and life isn't that simple. A villain doesn't come out the woodwork; it's a whole series of events that come together. And life's not just one thing happening at a time.

Anyway, mini rant/journal entry over.

I hope you enjoy this chapter.

She reached out and grabbed his arm stopping the slight tremor. Had she not been a thousand years older than him she might not have noticed it, but it was there.

"What?" Elijah's jaw ticked. He twisted around and met her dark eyes.

Amara's lips parted slightly. For a moment she hesitated; she thought maybe she had misinterpreted the involuntary movement. Just when she was getting ready to let go and shrug off her concern she spotted the pain in his eyes.

"Amara," his annoyance flared, "what is it? I was under the impression we had a pressing time constraint."

"I just…" she sighed and shook her head. Ever since she had told him the truth he had been on edge around her. She often got the sense he was waiting for her to do something while he distanced himself as much as possible.

Elijah liked to pretend he was stoic about all of this, but she could see it in his eyes. Part of her wanted to let him continue on the way he was, but the other part wanted to save him from what she knew was coming.

"You don't have to do this," she pressed her lips together and met his eyes.

A line appeared between his brows. A small frown marred his features as he searched her eyes for a sign of trickery. He didn't know what to think of Amara: the woman who had posed as her sister. She had only told him the truth because he had discerned that she was not Elena Gilbert, but apparently Elena Gilbert wasn't Elena Gilbert anymore.

He didn't understand her. She was shrouded in mystery, and buried in myth. The legends said she had been murdered by the witch Qetsiyah, yet here she stood before him. The stories had referred to her as an innocent woman, but she had stolen the witch's husband-to-be.

Was she like Tatia? Would she toy with the emotions of him and his brother?

Was she like Katerina? Was she waiting for the perfect moment to take what she wanted?

What did she want?

Was she like Elena? Was she kind and compassionate?

Or was she some strange combination of the three? Or rather, were the three each a version of her?

"I don't have to do what?" He cocked a heavy brow.

Amara's fingers ghosted down the length of his arm and took the wood from his hand.

"You don't have to kill your mother," she looked up to meet his eyes. "I'm fully capable of handling this. I could have come on my own, but I didn't know where she was."

She gripped the length of cedar to keep her hand from shaking. She had never taken a life before. Would she have if not for Qetsiyah's spell? Maybe at some point in time, but the point was that she had never killed a living soul; she had felt the death of every supernatural being, and that had given her a greater appreciation for life.

Did she want to do it? No.

Could she do it? Yes: to protect him.

"Why would you offer to do this?" He tilted his head and stepped closer to the immortal.

Elijah brought his hand up slowly as if to take the stake from her. His fingers curled around her smaller hand, but didn't pull the wood away. He seemed so be stuck to her skin; an electric current fused them together.

"She's your mother," Amara took a deep breath. The gentle exhalation of air fanned over his chin. "It doesn't matter what she's done; she's still your mother. No matter what you tell yourself," Her voice slowly dropped to a whisper, "there is still a soft spot in your heart for her."

"What does that matter?"

"Nobody should be responsible for the death of a loved one," she shrugged. She searched his eyes: now only a few inches away from her.

"I've been responsible for the deaths of many loved ones, Amara," his thumb brushed over her knuckles. "Sooner or later everyone I care about dies; either by my hand or that of my brother."

"Is that why you don't let people in?" She saw something flash in his eyes. She held up her hand and pressed the tips of her fingers to his lips; that wasn't a question he had to answer.

"It's different when it's family, Elijah. It's different when you're responsible for the death of family. That kind of guilt…" she blinked back a tear and sighed. "It eats you alive; worse than any physical pain. It will tear you apart; believe me. I know."

"Why do you care?" He murmured. Try as he might he couldn't find any deceit in her shimmering eyes, and the eyes were the window to the soul. If she was working some sort of angle he couldn't understand what it was.

Elijah's hand cupped her cheek and swiped away her tear. Part of the reason he had been so on edge with her was because he was so comfortable with her. It was a contradiction; it was completely illogical. He barely knew this woman. He shouldn't be comfortable with her; their conversation should not have been easy. He purposefully made it difficult so she wouldn't notice how at ease he truly was with her.

"I care," she managed a half smile before gently extracting herself from his hands. She kept a firm grip on the stake.

He caught her elbow when she reached for the door of his mother's cell.

"You don't have to," he met her eyes.

"You shouldn't have to," she breathed. She took a quick look around the empty hall; it was just the two of them.

She tucked the wood in her jacket pocket and reached up to lift the necklace over her head; the aquamarine twinkled in the dim light. "Keep this safe for me? I'll want it back in a minute."

Elijah held out his hand. There was a brief moment where he saw fear in her eyes before she dropped the gem and pushed open the door.

"Elena Gilbert?"

Elijah heard the sickening sound of wood sinking into flesh. It was followed by the landing of a solid body on the dirt floor. He made out the sharp intake of breath before the scream that sent him running through the door.

He dropped to his knees and held Amara's shoulders.

"Are you alright?" Panic gripped his chest as she clutched at her heart.

Amara took great gulping breaths and slowly felt her heart slow down to a more normal rate. She had forgotten how much it hurt. Over the millennia she had built up intolerance to the pain; it had gotten to the point where she would do little more than flinch away. She'd been unable to do even that for the longest time in her calcified state.

Ellie's spelled necklace had kept her safe from the dead; it had kept her safe from experiencing the pain that had been her constant companion.

"Amara?" His breath shook; the pendant of her necklace cut into his palm.

"I'm… I'm alright," her eyes fluttered open. "Necklace?"

"What was that?" He frowned before gently fitting the chain over her neck. "I thought you were immortal."

"Part of my punishment," she took shallow breaths and sat up. "It wasn't enough for Qetsiyah to murder Kol and my sister. She also made the Other Side and turned me into the anchor."

"The anchor?" He helped her to her feet and steered her from the cell.

"Anchor… door… key…" she leaned into his arm. "All of the above. I'm the central piece of the spell that brings someone back; they have to pass through me."

"And when mother comes back," Elijah rubbed her shoulder, "will it…"

"It'll be the same," she sighed, "but it passes quickly." She glanced at his hand still on her arm before lifting her gaze to his eyes. "I'm okay now."

"I know," he gently spun her around so she was facing him. "Why would you put yourself through that kind of pain?"

"Your deranged aunt has my sister," she didn't hesitate. "If a little pain on my part can help her and save Hope I'll endure it; besides… the spirits can only find me when I'm not wearing this necklace."

Elijah's eyes darted to her throat before returning to her face. His finger followed the line of her jaw and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"You're not moving," Amara swallowed and blinked once. "The spell has to happen before sunrise."

"I'm not," he breathed. His eyes flickered over her face. "I didn't understand you for the longest time. I don't know why I'm so comfortable with you. Whenever I'm in your presence I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling you my innermost thoughts."

"Why is that?"

"Like you said," he chuckled, "I don't let people in, and I'm afraid I'd let you in. I erected walls around my heart, Amara, but there is something I've wanted to do for weeks."

Her breath caught in her throat when he bent down and brushed his lips over hers: once, twice, three times. Somewhere between pecks one and two she returned the motion that had her toes curling.

"Would it be so terrible to let them down?" Her hand settled on his chest. She could feel the organ skip a beat beneath her palm. "For two thousand years I didn't think I'd let someone in again."

"Why?" He frowned.

"I killed my sister," she shrugged, "I killed her husband. I killed her child."

"You didn't do that," he shook his head. "That was Qetsiyah."

"Your wife?" Klaus glanced at Kol.

Kol nodded but didn't look up from where he was preparing the circle. He drew the lines in sweeping arches of black sand.

"You got married?" Freya's eyes darted to Kol's hand. She could sense the binding spell on his ring; it was strong, and would likely be the best way to locate Ellie once they were ready.

Freya frowned. Her arm shot out to catch Kol's hand so she could run her thumb over the band. The spell was strong; it was the kind of strength that came from promises made by two souls.

"You got married without telling us?" Klaus' arm was growing uncomfortably warm under the soft blanket, but he couldn't bring himself to remove it. The pink material was keeping Hope warm and Hope was in his arms; she would remain in his arms.

"I came back to life without telling you too," Kol pulled his hand back and returned to the spell.

"That's a whole other thing," Klaus inhaled slowly. "You couldn't have told us, but your 'wife' could have."

"You wouldn't have believed her," Kol placed a bowl of water in the northern end of the circle. According to Caroline that was where Amara would stand. "You wouldn't have listened."

"I would have," Klaus rubbed Hope's back.

"Not in time," Kol glanced up. He moved to the table to write out the spell that would be dropped in the fire with the herbs. They were only waiting on the aloe harvested by moonlight. "She brought me back human, Nik. She used the planetary alignment and nearly killed herself to give me the one thing I've wanted for a thousand years."

Freya lit the fire in the southern end of the circle. She tilted her head, watched the flames and blinked slowly. Her voice was full of curiosity when she addressed Kol.

"And was the baby conceived before or after the wedding?"

She looked up when her brothers grew silent and saw Klaus staring at Kol and Kol staring at her.

"Oh, come on," Freya held up her hands, "why else would Dahlia want your wife?" She knew the moment it clicked for Kol; his eyes flickered as his mouth opened and closed.

"It… it would have been after," he murmured quietly.

"Always did have you pegged as the irresponsible sort who would get a girl in trouble," Klaus cleared his throat.

"At least I married her first," Kol's head snapped around as he quirked an eyebrow and gave his niece a pointed look. "And I didn't get her 'in trouble'."

"Well, technically," Freya hummed, "she wouldn't have been of any interest to our dear aunt if you hadn't gotten her pregnant. Does she know?" She waved her hand dismissively. "She must. If she didn't she definitely knows now, or will very soon."

Freya walked around the perimeter of the circle and examined the many symbols she and Kol had drawn; she recognized less than half of them.

"Perhaps…" her eyes lifted towards Hope, "… perhaps Dahlia will cut her losses. Perhaps she won't return."

"Mother made a deal for every firstborn," Klaus frowned. He liked the idea of Dahlia never returning, but he thought it unlikely; the woman was obsessed with gaining more power and she had wanted Hope to get it. "Why wouldn't she come back?"

Freya gave him a look that said 'are you serious', and nodded to Kol and the black sand.

"I'm assuming Elena has never had a child," she waited for their nods. "That means she is carrying the firstborn of not one, but two powerful witches; she brought back Kol from the other side and now he's poised to recreate her spell again. On top of that they are bonded soulmates; the child was conceived after their marriage. That child will be exceptionally powerful; probably enough for Dahlia to gain her immortality by tying her life to the babe."

"She doesn't know what we are to each other," Kol shook his head.

"I figured it out from your wedding band," Freya met his eyes, "and Dahlia is far more powerful than I. She'll figure it out."

"All the more reason to find her then," Kol returned to his work with a new sense of determination. He hoped Freya was right because he feared what Dahlia would do to Ellie if she thought her immortality had been stolen away.

Davina placed the candles around the salt circle and trailed her hand through the tub. The mixture of water and soil had created a thin mud. All that was left were the ashes.

It wouldn't be long now.

Obviously picking up where they left off wouldn't be easy. He'd be in his original body and would have to readjust to the life he had been given, but she was confident they could get past it.

They would work through it. She'd help him. She would do a much better job of it this time too; she'd failed when he'd asked for her help before.

She blamed it on not having enough time. Maybe with more time she could have saved him, but he hadn't come to her until it was too late.

It had been a week of radio silence before he knocked on her door and asked her to help save his life. He should have come sooner.

She assumed he hadn't told her at first because he hadn't wanted her to worry, or watch him die before he admitted defeat and asked for help.

Davina closed her eyes and rolled her neck back and around. She took a deep breath and lifted the lid off the urn; the ashes swirled on the surface of the murky water before sinking to the bottom.

She waited with bated breath for the last of the ash to drift to the bottom. Tilting her head she could see the first rays of dawn cresting over the cemetery. It was almost poetic. He would return to his life at the start of a new day: a fresh day.

"Fian en che en kanu!" Davina held her hands out over the water and chanted. With each repetition of the spell she felt the magic pulling at her. It was almost done when she felt resistance.

Gritting her teeth she put all of her energy behind the last chant and felt the magic flow freely again. It convulsed and swirled in the air before diving into the water like a king fisher.

"You knew the whole time?" Rebekah broke off the aloe. She had run to the botanical garden with Caroline to find the last of the ingredients.

"Yes," Caroline took the aloe leaf and tossed it aside. "It has to be red along the edge: almost rosy."

"Why didn't you tell us the truth?" Rebekah started moving leaves aside.

"Would you have believed me?" Caroline arched an eyebrow. She held out the bag when Rebekah selected the right leaf and pulled out a knife so they could harvest the gel.

"You should have told me," Rebekah's eyes narrowed. Her hands made quick work of the plant.

"I don't owe you anything Rebekah," Caroline sighed, "so stop acting like I do. My loyalty was too my friend; my job was to help my friend."

"Your friend was trying to bring back my brother," Rebekah crossed her arms and watched Caroline bag the gel. "She made him human and then they just left."

Caroline sighed and lifted her eyes. She was ready to light into the blonde for her attitude, but then she saw the hurt the Original was attempting to mask. Her exasperation turned on a dime.

"They left for you," she tucked the aloe into her purse. "They both knew how much you want the cure, so they left to get it for you."

Rebekah's eyes grew round. Had her mischievous brother actually been planning on doing something kind for her? Had Elena been planning on doing something kind for her?

"She was giving you the cure, Rebekah," Caroline reminded the Original. "It was practically in your hand when Damon forced her to drink it."

"That was the only cure," Rebekah shook her head. "There was only one. Bonnie said it couldn't be replicated."

"Not by her," Caroline started out of the garden, "because she didn't know what was in it, but Ellie did. History got it wrong, Rebekah."

"What do you mean?" Rebekah pulled the gate closed behind them.

"Shane said Qetsiyah created the immortality spell and its cure, but that wasn't true," Caroline murmured. "It was Ellie. She's the only person alive capable of mass producing the cure… Kol might be able to do it now too, but she was the one who made it."

Rebekah's heart warmed at the thought of them travelling across the world to bring her heart's desire to New Orleans.

Kol took a deep breath and stepped into place across from Amara. He triple checked the writing before dumping the herbs and the paper into the burning fire.

The plan had been for Freya to cast the spell, but his sister hadn't recognized the language. And since he had no intention of taking the time to teach her the correct pronunciation he had stepped in.

He frowned when Freya took his hand.

"You're still tired," she murmured. "I might not be able to cast the spell but you can channel me so you don't take the full strain."

He hesitated before nodding. Across the circle Amara lifted the necklace and laid it on the ground.

"Akoúste ta lógia mou, akoúste to pnévma kravgís mou apó tin álli plevrá. Eláte se ména sas kaléso. Stavróste tóra to megálo chásma."

He felt the pull deep in his body and heard Amara's cry. Opening his eyes she saw a swirling mass of energy in the center of the circle. His body grew weak under the strain of the magic. His knees buckled under his weight.

From the corner of his eye he saw Freya drop alongside him.

Caroline's eyes grew round. A strange sense of déjà vu overtook her as she watched the trio fall to their knees. Much like last time the moment they hit the ground was the moment the energy settled. Only this time it was in the shape of a woman.

Esther Mikaelson sat up with a gasp. Her dark eyes darted from the woman who had killed her to the son and daughter who had brought her back. She didn't get a chance to relish the feeling of magic in her limbs before Rebekah flashed in from nowhere, snapped a pair of shackles around her wrists, and wrapped a heavy blanket around her shoulders.

Kol took in ragged breaths as the room tunneled in his vision. The last thing he saw before passing out was the first rays of dawn stretching upwards and lightening the inky sky.

A drop of blood leaked from his ear.

Freya caught him and lowered him carefully to the ground for Caroline who appeared and pressed her bleeding wrist to his mouth.

Kol's eyes fluttered open a moment later as renewed energy took over his body.

"Why'd you do that?" He sat up and pushed Caroline's arm from his mouth.

"Because Ellie would never forgive her if she let you die," Amara smirked from across the circle. She froze in the process of reaching for her necklace.

"Amara?" Elijah's eyes narrowed. His blood ran cold when she doubled over and screamed.

Davina smiled as the magic settled and opened her eyes to the light of dawn streaking across the sky.

Her eyes quickly shifted from the sky to the man who sat up and gasped.

His dark hair was plastered to his head.

She could definitely see the resemblance to Elijah and Klaus but something seemed off. She knew he was over a thousand years old, but she had pictured him younger.

"Kol?" Davina tilted her head. She shivered when he turned to look at her.

"No…" he slowly regained control of his breathing.

At first Davina was surprised, but the feeling was quickly chased away by her anger. It didn't take a genius to understand what had happened. Someone had ensured she had the wrong ashes.

She gritted her teeth and gripped the edge of the tub. Klaus would pay for this.

Elena blinked tiredly and hugged her knees to her chest.

The bed in her room was pressed up against the wall so the length of the mattress was beneath the window. She had sat there all night.

At points she had dozed, but for the most part she had been awake and watching the moon's path through the heavens. The thin crescent had vanished around the side of the house.

She rubbed at her eyes and traced the soft streaks created by the rising sun. It had yet to crest the horizon so the sky was lit only with a pale yellow glow.

She had tried to sleep at first, she had, but the combination of her morning sickness and her nerves had kept her awake.

A part of her recognized Dahlia, the aunt of her deceased husband, but she couldn't understand her gut instinct; it was practically screaming: 'don't trust her'.

There was so much that didn't make sense. Ten months had passed since the night in the Boarding House. Ten months had flown by since she had tried to give the cure to Rebekah. Ten months had lived and died since Damon had abused his sire bond.

And she couldn't remember any of it.

Sometime in those ten months she had gotten married. The proof was on her ring finger. The question remained: who was it?

She supposed she could have asked Dahlia, but she didn't think she'd get a straight answer. Something told her the woman would lie without batting an eye.

I'm married; she tested the word in her mind. I'm married.

It was a difficult concept to wrap her mind around. She had always assumed she'd get married one day, but to do it so soon after becoming human again. She had to believe he had been someone special because she wouldn't have married someone just because she was pregnant.

Pregnant, it was another word that she had to turn over in her head. She was pregnant. She was with child. She was going to be a mother.

She didn't trust Dahlia as far as she could throw her, but she believed this. With her hand on her stomach she could feel the life swirling beneath her fingers.

Dahlia was lying to her, but not about the baby.

Why can't I remember? What kind of accident was I in?

She bit her bottom lip and stood from the bed.

Crossing the room slowly she stood in front of the full length mirror.

Elena leaned closer and peered at her reflection. She pushed back her hair and examined every inch of her face before prodding at her skin. She felt all along her head and found nothing.

She frowned at her reflection, slowly pulled her top up over her head, and shucked off her leggings.

She slowly looked herself over and felt the soft skin of her stomach. The muscles there had always been toned, and while she was still slim she could see the shift in her figure. The skin had softened and protruded slightly. If she hadn't been used to the hard muscles of her vampire body she might not have even noticed.

Elena tore her eyes from her stomach and started looking over the rest of her body. Her fingers danced over the few blemishes she could find: her appendectomy scar, the thin line from gym class, and the dark dot from when Jeremy had stabbed her with a pencil when they were kids.

There was no sign she had been in an accident. The bruises should have still been fading. There should have been a cut or a scrape, or at the very least stitches from where she'd been pieced back together by the doctors.

There wasn't even a scar from an IV bag.

Any accident capable of giving her amnesia should have left behind a physical reminder.

There was nothing.

The only thing out of the ordinary was the mark on her hand. At some point in the last ten months she had gotten a tattoo, but for the life of her she didn't understand what the intersecting lines meant; it was vaguely rune-like.

She pulled her clothes back on and pushed her fingers through her hair.

I have to get out of here.

Dahlia ran her finger around the rim of her coffee cup and pursed her lips.

She had only wanted to make the woman forget being a witch, so the result was strange.

She had distinctly heard her nephew call his bride Alenka. He had switched from her nickname to her given name when she'd moved out of his line of sight.

Dahlia had only used the name Ellie to establish a sense of familiarity. She had even introduced herself as Alenka in a way that suggested the nickname was personal… intimate.

So, why had she given a completely different name?

Dahlia had been puzzling over it since Elena went to bed and the only explanation she could come up with was reincarnation. She had made her forget being a witch, but that had been who she was her entire life. Memories needed to take the place of those that were lost.

The only question: was it Elena or Alenka who had been born in this life?

Not that it mattered. She didn't even matter really; all that did matter was the child she carried.

Over the last thousand years she had heard tales of her wild nephew. She knew it would have taken someone incredibly special to return his humanity and get him to settle down. It would have taken a soulmate.

The ring on Elena's finger told Dahlia the couple had sealed their bonds. Their child would be incredibly powerful whether it was conceived before or after the wedding.

The baby would be strong enough to grant her the power and immortality she craved. She would never again have to sleep for a century at a time.

Elena's child would be enough, but still Dahlia wanted more. She wanted to be the most powerful witch the world had ever seen, and she could increase her power that much more with Hope as well. With the tribrid and Kol's child she would be unstoppable.

She just needed a plan in place to go back. There was no way she would take Elena within a mile of the city; that was where she knew she had sent the babe.

Dahlia's thoughts were put on hold when she heard a thump and a groan coming from the bedroom. She jumped up and rushed in to find Elena lying on the floor clutched her arm.

"What have you done?" Dahlia remembered at the last moment that she was meant to be the caring aunt.

Elena gritted her teeth against the pain and looked away from the blood pouring down her forearm. It must have been the morning sickness making her stomach turn because blood had never made her feel faint before.

"What have you done, child?" Dahlia knelt and examined her arm. It would be easy enough to mend.

"I…" Elena swallowed her rising bile, "… I…" she closed her eyes and took a shallow breath. Her tears dripped into her mouth. "I tripped."

"I can see that," Dahlia was preparing to heal her when Elena looked down at the wound.

"I… I think… I think it needs stitches," Elena swallowed thickly.

And there it was. Dahlia peered at the wound; the perfect solution to her current conundrum. Elena didn't remember a thing about being a witch after all and there was no immediate danger to the baby.

"I think you might be right," she helped Elena to her feet.

Elena grabbed a towel on the way to the door and pressed it to the wound. She didn't want to do it, but her twisting stomach and spinning head meant she had to lean on Dahlia until she was in the truck.

Hold it together, Elena… for your baby.

I think this might be the longest chapter I've written for this story. I've got this new organizational system for planning where I write out the main event in one colour, the character's thoughts/motivation in another, and potential dialogue in a third. The Amara Elijah bit was maybe fifty words in the planning process and it wound up being nearly 2000.

Ruby Red is next on my list followed by The Bond. And then of course my christmas oneshots. I thought I might do a third part to 364 days, but this one would be focused on Kol and his downstairs neighbor.