AN: I do not own TVD or TO or The Princess Diaries.

Dear Diary,

My queen lessons continue.

Surprise, surprise.

To fulfill one Bulgarian tradition I must learn to shoot a flaming arrow through a ceremonial ring, which will happen on the eve of my coronation. It's symbolic for lighting my own eternal flame.

Cheesy, right? But I kind of like the idea.

Elena eyed the bow nervously and used the tip of the arrow to scratch the side of her head. Her instructor had insisted that they start with the regular arrows since Elena had never shot an arrow before.

"Alright, your highness," Sophie stood a little way behind her, "draw back your arrow, take your aim, and release."

Elena took a deep breath and drew back the arrow. She felt the strain in her shoulder as she pointed the bow in the direction of the target. When she was confident she had a bullseye in her sights she released. Her eyes slammed shut as the string snapped past her face and the arrow flew through the air. She opened her eyes to seek out the path the arrow had taken. She sighed dejectedly when she saw it.

The arrow had left her bow to land three feet in front of her.

The second attempt was better, kind of. Elena managed to get more force behind this one, unfortunately her aim faltered. The arrow veered off to the left and landed in a tree beside Marco where he stood pruning the shrubbery. Elena called out apologies which he accepted graciously, but she could see him shaking when she took up the third arrow.

This time she managed to elbow Sophie in the chest when she tried to improve Elena's aim.

"I'm so sorry," Elena covered her eyes in mortification.

"It's alright, your highness," Sophie sucked in a deep breath and motioned for Elena to try again.

Elena drew back slowly. She thought her aim was off so she shifted on her foot. She realized the mistake to late when she lost her balance. Rather than drop the bow and right herself Elena held on and stumbled around in a circle. She heard Anna and April shriek when the arrow was pointed in their direction.

"Sorry," Elena called as they ran away.

The fifth arrow punctured the tire of Marco's golf cart. Luckily for Marco he was sitting on a bench eating his lunch. Unluckily for Marco the sixth arrow punctured his soda can. Poor Marco fled the garden after that. Elena made a note to send him a really nice Christmas present.

Elena decided to call it for the day after the seventh arrow.

It started out well enough. She took a perfect stance and aimed at the target, but then she tripped and her aim shifted. She watched in horror as the arrow flew through the air with the force of a speeding bullet. She let out the breath she was holding when it passed harmlessly behind Elijah's neck.

The thud grabbed his attention. Elijah glanced up from his book with a confused expression. He turned his head to examine the tree where Elena's arrow had stuck before turning and offering her a polite wave and returning to his book.

"Sorry," Elena held the bow in front of her body and grimaced. She felt her heart skip a beat when she thought about just how close that arrow had passed.

Elena raced through the ornate halls of the palace. She was happy she had the foresight to wear sneakers today; had her feet been encased in heels she most definitely would have fallen flat on her face, more than once. She shoved open the door to her grandma's apartments and gasped for breath as she hastened into the study.

"I'm sorry I'm late, but I was almost on," she dropped onto a seat and squealed, "time," she was propelled across the freshly waxed floors. She held out her hands when the maids rushed to help her. "I'm alright," blood flooded her cheeks, "I've got this." She started pushing herself back towards the centre of the room with the heels of her feet. "I'm fine," she laughed off the embarrassment.

She knew the maids didn't believe her. Elena had only been in the palace a short time but already the staff was aware of her clumsy nature and tendency to embarrass easily. She took a deep breath to dispel her blush and turned to her grandma with a grin; sometimes these lessons were fun, and they gave Jenna and Elena time to spend together.

"So…" Elena felt a nervous flutter in her chest; sometimes lessons were not fun. "What are we learning today?"

"We," Jenna smiled mischievously; her eyes alight with amusement, "are learning the art of the fan." She delicately plucked one from a silver tray carried by Charlotte and snapped it open. The black lace and red silk clashed with Jenna's soft pink pants suit.

"Fascinating," Elena offered a tight-lipped smile. Her thumb connected with the smooth underside of her ring and twisted it back and forth on her finger.

"It is," Jenna stood up quickly and motioned for Elena to do the same, "get up quickly; we only have ten minutes to learn this." Jenna slapped the black fan in Elena's hand and picked up an off white one.

"Now," Jenna opened her fan, "the fan is a wonderful tool that must be handled deliberately. It's a tremendous way to communicate." She nodded when Elena managed to open her fan partway. "You can say many different things, like 'I'm feeling flirtatious. Come hither.'"

Jenna held the fan so that it covered her mouth. Her eyes glittered above the silk as she fluttered the fan quickly before her face. Jenna nodded approvingly when Elena mimicked the motion perfectly.

"You can say: 'I never wish to speak to you again. Go away'." Jenna shut the fan before sharply turning her head away and holding the open fan away from her body.

Elena attempted to match the pose, but was stopped when her fan didn't open. Her chocolate coloured curls whipped over her shoulder as she looked back. Elena frowned at the fan before giving her wrist a small twist that opened the rest of the fan.

She peaked to see her grandma hiding behind the white silk fan to demonstrate another message. Elena smiled before turning her attention to Charlotte; her playful eyes winked at the secretary.

Elena opened her fan all of the way before covering her face. She rolled the fan to the right and revealed her face to Charlotte; she had broadened her smile in an imitation of a drama mask. Elena felt encouraged when Charlotte stifled a giggle and rolled the fan across her face again to reveal a pout. She continued to roll the fan back and forth for new exaggerated emotions: joy, sadness, despair.

Charlotte lost it when Elena mimed overdramatic sobs. The erupting giggles alerted the queen to her granddaughters actions.

"Elena!" Jenna snapped her fan closed and took a step towards Elena, "are you sassing your grandma?" Her angry glare was undercut by her amused tone.

Elena jumped and hid her grin behind her fan. She slowly lowered it revealing her lips pressed into a firm line to suppress her smile. She laughed nervously and backed away towards the sofa as Jenna approached.

"I would never sass you grandma." She laughed when an amused light entered the queen's eyes. She started playfully slapping Elena with the fan.

"This is also a way to say you're annoyed."

Elena stood to the side of the throne. Her body was weighed down by the diamond tiara on her head. On Monday's the queen opened the throne room to petitioners. Elena had been away at school for so long; this was the first time she had been in front of the petitioners since last summer.

She smiled demurely as she listened to citizens address her grandmother. Her eyes made a quick survey of the room. The line of petitioners stretched to the door, and was made up of all manner of people. Courtiers sat on chairs around the room, under the portraits of past queens, and stifled yawns. Her eyes landed on Elijah sitting beside his uncle.

His chestnut brown eyes locked with her chocolate ones. Her heart skipped a beat when he leaned forward slightly and raised his eyebrows; his eyes seemed to twinkle across the room. His eyes slowly raked over her from the tips of her shoes to the glittering tiara in her hair before settling back on her eyes. She returned the gaze, and admired the way his suit hugged his chest. Warmth spread through her when his eyes lingered on her hips and chest a moment longer than necessary.

A chill swept down her spine as she turned her attention back to the man kneeling before Jenna. The exchange had taken less than a minute.

"We will have someone come and visit your farm in the morning," Jenna smiled benevolently at the man, "and perhaps we can repair the well and save your field."

"This is for your table," the man nodded gratefully and passed a basket of bread to the guards.

"You do this so well," Elena leaned down to whisper in Jenna's ear, "they adore you Grandma."

"It's part of an ancient Bulgarian tradition," Jenna looked sideways and smiled at Elena, "one has to be fair and honest. Even if you can't help them, you have to show them you care."

Several petitioners came to them that day, but the one that stood out the most was a man named Tiny.

He was a large man with an easy smile. Jenna presented Elena as she had done with everyone. Tiny declared that Elena was his favorite to the good natured laughs of the court.

"Something for your table," Tiny held out a basket, "I hope you like omelets."

Elena felt her curiosity peak when the cloth top shifted.

"May I?" She turned over the cloth to reveal a chicken: a live chicken. "It's a chicken," Elena smiled nervously. She gasped when the animal tumbled out of the basket.

The bird's feet clicked against the tiles of the throne room. Elena's heels echoed the sound. She didn't hear the laughter until Jenna grabbed her arm after the first circle she made around the room.

"Elena," Jenna chided with a tight smile. She easily hid her own amusement behind a courteous smile, "a princess never chases a chicken."

Elena finally stopped to hear the braying laugh of Viscount Mabrey. A blush stained her cheeks as she looked in his direction, but if she was expecting to see Elijah bent double in laughter she was sorely disappointed.

While his eyes danced in amusement he managed to stifle his laughter. She's not a typical princess, he thought as his eyes took in the beautiful flush spreading from her chest to her hairline.

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow my stress level goes to 11 as I review the royal guard. The whole court will be watching as will the troops. And I'm wearing a floor-length dress. I also have to be dignified and lady-like while rising side saddle.

Hah!

Luckily Grandma has a plan. She calls him 'Herbie'. It's impressively sneaky. The wooden leg is draped over the side of the horse. I'm going to hide my other leg under my skirt and nobody will suspect a thing.

I hope.

I don't know what to make of Elijah. The man is ridiculously attractive, cocky and trying to steal my throne. When I'm near him though, and when he looks at me a certain way, I feel my heart start to flutter.

He's a complete ass, but he has a nice ass.

It doesn't matter. Not really, it's just physical attraction that will dissipate over time.

"Princess Elena Isabella Petrova reviews the royal guard."

Elijah glanced to the left to see her; his uncle was striding away from the stable boy. The horse was just rounding the stable and starting down the line of guards.

Elena's hair had been smoothed back under the riding hat. She sat straight on the back of the horse with her chin held high. Her head shifted from side to side while she made firm precise nods. Her mouth was set in a solemn determined line. Elijah thought she looked like a queen, but he found he missed her usually casual carriage.

Elijah turned his head to the right to find the fiancé. He held out his hand with a friendly smile.

"I'm Elijah," he gripped Stefan's hand firmly, "Viscount Mabrey's nephew."

"Ah," Stefan smiled good-naturedly, "the man who's trying to stage a palace coup. I'm Stefan Salvatore. Nice to meet you."

Elijah nodded politely. The smile melted from his face when a fierce looking blond leaned around Stefan to offer her hand. Elijah thought her handshake could rival any man's.

"Caroline Forbes," she nodded toward the riding princess, "official best friend. I don't like you." Her glare sent a chill down Elijah's spine.

"Pleasure," Elijah replied politely while wondering if Miss Forbes was capable of murder. The look in her eyes suggested she would not hesitate to cause him physical harm.

Elena drew in a deep shuddering breath. She bent to make sure her skirt was covering her right leg completely before looking up. Don't fall, don't fall, don't fall the chant repeated like a mantra. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin, all the while grateful her grandmother had selected the gentlest horse for the excursion. Normally Elena was an exceptional rider, but today, when she was expected to ride perfectly, she feared she would faint and fall from the animal.

She sat tall and rode from the stables. Her stomach trembled as she started inspecting the royal guard. She was so focused on her task that she didn't notice the stable boy walking beside her. She was unaware that anything was wrong until her horse startled beneath her.

"Easy, girl," Elena attempted to sooth the frightened animal. "Oh fuck," she breathed quietly when Sandy bucked up on her hind legs and kicked out in terror. Elena emitted a small scream when this happened.

"Princess," Ric rushed forward to help her. His hand caught one of her riding boots to pull her from the horse. "I've got you, I'm here…" Ric trailed off when the wooden leg came off in his hands.

"Ric…" Elena felt mortification setting deep in her heart. She could hear Elsie Kentworthy saying this was why she was so clumsy.

"Talk about getting off on the wrong foot."

Elena felt hot tears leaving trails down her cheeks. Her legs clenched tightly around Sandy. She spurred the horse on and fled the scene.

Elijah felt his heart clench when the horse reared up on its hind legs. He bit the inside of his lip and held his breath when Alaric rushed forward to help. He watched with wide eyes and felt his legs tremble as the horse continued to buck.

He let out a breath when the horse calmed down. When Elena took off at a gallop he jumped to his feet. Before he rushed off he caught sight of his uncle snickering behind his hand.

Elena huddled in the corner of the tack room. Not even the smell of leather was enough to repair her shattered nerves. Her body rocked forward as the sobs wracked through her body. Her shuddering breath masked the sound of approaching footsteps.

"You shouldn't hide," he passed her a handkerchief, "it only makes them gossip more."

Elena looked up to see Elijah standing beside her. She swiped at her tears morosely before wiping her arms around her upper body.

"What do you want?" Elena whispered sadly. She sniffled but refused to take the handkerchief.

Elijah placed the handkerchief away and shifted on his feet. The relief he felt at finding her unharmed was palpable. He smiled and attempted to cheer her up.

"Just think, Elena," he gave a soft laugh, "one more leg and you could have out run your horse."

Elena stood up while slowly shaking her head. She felt fresh tears starting down her cheeks.

"I don't need this right now." She turned away from him and walked toward the wall.

"Elena, I'm…" Elijah stammered; he instantly regretted his thoughtless words. He held out his hand before thinking better of the action and letting it fall to his side. "I'm sorry, I…"

"No, you're not," Elena sniffed. She turned to face him as the tears welled in her eyes. "You never think about anyone but yourself. So just once, please let me be miserable without making me feel worse about myself, please." Her watery eyes fell to the floor. She pressed her lips together and sobbed, "just go away, go away, go away…"

"Elena…" For the first time in years he was at a loss for words. He had the overwhelming urge to comfort her, to make everything better, to apologize for what had just happened despite having no part in the actions that had transpired.

Elijah lifted his hand and reached for her shoulder, but the clearing of a throat stilled his movement.

"Princess," Alaric stepped into the room and eyed the young couple. He missed neither Elena's tears nor Elijah's remorseful eyes. "The queen has arrived." He watched while Elena left the room and offered her a tissue which she quickly accepted. When she was gone he turned his attention to the final occupant of the room.

"Elijah," Alaric held his hands behind his back as he stepped into the room, "am I going to be disappointed in you."

"An unfortunate incident that," Mabrey stepped into the tack room. Alaic did not miss the tiny smirk playing on his lips. "I'm just leaving," he looked to his nephew, "are you going to see me off?"

"Elijah," Alaric's gaze shifted from one to the other, "I'd like to speak to your uncle alone for a moment."

Elijah nodded once to Alaric before he hastened from the room.

"Viscount," Alaric's chin tilted up as he regarded the smarmy man. His eyes met Mabrey's in an unblinking stare. "You may not be aware of what my job entails as the head of royal security." Ric allowed a small smile to play across his lips as he explained, "my job is to protect the crown, to make sure no harm comes to the crown, and to step in when someone toys with the crown's emotions, you see."

"I think the whole country understands how well you cater to the crown's emotions." Mabrey smirked.

The grin slipped from his face to be replaced with a stone cold glare.

"If you hurt my girl, you will answer directly to me." Alaric held the Viscount's gaze as an edge crept into his even tone. "And whatever crimes I commit against you, remember this, I have diplomatic immunity in 46 countries, - including Puerto Rico."

"Sir," Mabrey blustered, "you will find the word fear is not in my vocabulary!"

"Perhaps," Alaric conceded, "but it's in your eyes. You forgot something," he slapped a rubber snake over the man's shoulder and strode from the room.

Elijah pulled a small chocolate soufflé from the oven. He placed a dollop of whipped cream on top before turning to look at the queen.

"Elijah, I…" Jenna had taken a seat at the kitchen counter to watch the man who had been hailed as a gourmet chief, "I want to ask you a question."

"Of course, your majesty," he sat down his spoon and rested his hands on the counter.

"Why are you so against Elena being queen?" She tilted her head to watch the man.

"Well," he smiled openly, "my uncle believes that Princess Elena does not know the people."

"And you feel you do know the people?"

"Yes," Elijah looked at the soufflé, "I was born here, I went to primary school here. I am a true Bulgarian." He smiled at the counter, "Elena didn't even know she was Bulgarian until high school, and to be frank, she's spent little time here since then."

"Well," Jenna slapped her hand on the counter and nodded her head decisively, "I happen to feel that she'll make a great ruler. She's terribly bright, sensitive, and caring."

"I know that," Elijah nodded and thought of the beautiful woman in question. He knew she loved her country deeply, if she didn't she would not be doing what she was doing, but love wasn't always enough."

"You do?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. But…" He thought of the best way to phrase this question, despite his growing unease with his situation. "How can one rule the people if they do not know the people?"

"Touche. That's a very good question."

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