Unknown Devotion

It was nearly three in the morning when Jeremy was finally sent home. Caroline and Bonnie went along with him and ended up staying the night in Elena's room as they tried to figure out what to do about the warlock that betrayed nature. The three were physically and mentally exhausted, and could hardly stay awake long enough to reach a conclusion. Everything seemed so impossible. So irrational.

Why would a witch want to give up his powers for an immortal life? The realm needed it's protectors. Without the witches, who would enforce the laws? Most witches understood this concept so clearly that it needs not to be reminded. Nature was always put first.

Meanwhile, Stefan and Damon had retired to their respective rooms, each coping in different ways. The bronze haired vampire spent the remainder of the night restless, reading from his journal documented in 1863. He came to remember all the ups and downs of the year, mentally wishing that Elena did not get caught up in the worst of it. The worst mainly being Damon.

He had to admit, Damon wasn't bad at all in those days. In fact, he was one of the most respectful men in Mystic Falls. It was no wonder that women loved to be around him, if not, loved him. But Damon and Stefan had the same morals. It was inscribed in their heads for eternity, although now it is not followed as well. But Stefan... he does his best, even writing it on the front page of the majority of his journals.

Never would a hair on a woman's head be touched unless to her my heart belongs, it said. And in the 1800s, this moral was held most high. More important than the others. Damon did not respect it as well now. But what can Stefan do? It's like what his brother says: their dead, get over it.

As Stefan flips through his many journals, across the Boarding House sat Damon in his quarters, strangely locking his bourbon up tight. It had been a while since he had willingly put it up, but there was nothing to be upset about that night. Or rather, that morning. His head was filled with those same images from presumably 150 years ago. Of Elena Gilbert in the Victorian dress as blue as the open ocean, her silky brown tresses pulled away from her fragile features to reveal beautifully prominent cheekbones.

On any other day, Damon would have thought of her as Katherine, his love once upon a time. But only Elena could look so elegant in the sapphire gown that she wore. The smile that traced her rosy petals could only belong to the human he had grown to adore completely. It could be no one but Elena that refused to leave his mind. She was burned into his memory. And he didn't want her to go away.

Stefan ended up reorganizing his journals, realizing they were out of order. Most likely from where Damon wanted to find out what his brother had been up to. It didn't phase Stefan that he had read them, knowing he would always know what was going on in his head. He was, after all, and open book.

As if the journals could read his mind, one fell from the shelf, lying open on the cold tile floor. The pages were blank, but there was a slight indention where a utensil stroked the pages on the first few pages. Stefan picked up the old leather journal, definitely from the start of his young life. It was decorated with golden patterns that resembled a rose of purity, as they referred to it in the 1800s. Oddly enough, the journal was unlocked, the key lodged in the lock as if someone had already been flipping through it.

The broody vampire examined it curiously, his dark brown irises fixing to the indented words in the fine paper. Stefan carefully flipped the pages to the very first page, his heart skipping a beat when he transfixes his gaze onto newly printed calligraphy. With the infamous starter of "Dear Diary", the entry ran through with mentions of familiar names, including his own.

"Elena..." Stefan whispered, his brows furrowed in both confusion and worry, but also with hope. Would they be able to communicate with her now? Does this mean she's safe? But she's scared... she says so herself in the entry. But how could they help her? Katherine said it could only be broken under the full moon. Maybe that was the power source? Whatever they needed to do to get her back, Stefan would do it. Whatever it takes. "Damon!"

"Come on, Elena! We're going to be late!" Guinevere giggled, her curly blonde locks bouncing as she ran out of the Draut household. The family was to be attending a public picnic held in the square, intended to give returning soldiers a chance to catch up with everyone instead of just their families.

Instead of Rachel at Elena's side, however, Jacob stood in her place. The girl was feeling a tad bit under the weather, and Dawn didn't want her to get ill. They strode along the roads as if gliding on air, each seeming to put no effort into movement.

Elena felt freer than she did the previous day. She wore a straight, sleeveless red dress with a white outer corset, which meant she didn't have to wear the dreadful under corset. Her hair straightened, as always, but bangs pulled out of her eyes and clipped together in the back of her head.

There were more people at the ball than at the picnic, showing just how many in this century were more high class and proper. Only a few of the wealthiest in the town had showed up. The mayor Lockwood stood before the small families or couples that sat on blankets in the grass or had begun unpacking their baskets, prepared to make a speech before they were to fully begin to socialize.

Dawn had packed many a sandwich in the basket, a salad or two, and lots of fruit. But of course, a picnic isn't a picnic without a delectable cheesecake to top it all off. Guinevere was most excited for desert, but also relished in the thought of being outdoors for the majority of the day. After all, she rarely got any free time since school let out.

Jacob stood perfectly still, examining the company he was to keep for the day with bright eyes. He seemed to be darkening a bit, his eyes glazing over as if he was not able to fully concentrate. But Elena could see the faint amount of fear in his eyes, because she had seen it before. In Stefan.

"Jacob?" Elena gently held her hand to his shoulder comfortingly. "Are you alright?"

Rubbing his eyes, he nods and clears his throat. "Yes, I am sorry. I get kind of... claustrophobic."

After a moment, the two continue on the find a nice area to set up their picnic things. Guinevere seemed to have a permanent smile plastered across her dainty features, her bright blue irises constantly flitting to the the hand woven basket that sat at Elena's feet. All were anxious to begin the consuming of their home made meals. Although some were more interested in getting to walk around to other's blankets for a small chat.

At the opposite side of the field, the Salvatore brothers stood in silence, unlike their normal nonstop chatting. They both were lost in their thoughts, words that were not even associated with the initial topic crossing their mind and crashing their train of thought. Their lunch was packed into Stefan's satchel, seeing as how there was only the two of them to think about.

Damon always seemed to find himself watching a girl that sat across the way, her long brown tresses draping over her exposed shoulders, yet revealing her lovely mocha hues. He felt the urge to walk over to her pulling at him with incredible force, as if he was supposed to be there.

Yet before he could take the first step, Stefan had a hand on his shoulder and a slight grin inching across his face. "I am going to say hello to the mistress Elena. Would you like to come along, brother?"

A slight crease appeared between Damon's furrowed brows, his eyes averting from his brother to the maiden that sat before a man of his age and a young girl that seemed to be fairly hungry. He couldn't help but nod, wanting to be near her even if by being near her he'd have to see Stefan beside her. "Yes, I would."

The two walk around blankets and families that sat on the ground as the mayor spoke, only half hearing what he said about the soldiers and the war. The raven-haired man had seen the worst of the war, but he was not phased. But not so sane that he was willing to relive it through the words of someone who hadn't even been there.

Damon could feel his brother light up beside him as they finally reached Elena, who sensed their presence almost immediately. She twisted around, her eyes catching Stefan's sea green hues. A smile stretched across her face as she gets to her feet, excusing herself from the picnic with her friends.

"Stefan! Damon, you're here!" Elena exclaimed in excitement. It wasn't that she hadn't expected them to be at a public picnic, but she thought that they would have spent their time with someone who wasn't Elena.

Stefan emits a brief chuckle, taking Elena's hand in his and bringing it to his lips. "Good afternoon too you as well, miss Elena."

A redness spreads across her delicate features as his soft brims connect with her skin, a heated sensation rushing up her arm. Her gentle mocha irises then flit to Damon, who stood perfectly still with his hands latched behind his back and his eyes averted to a nearby family. Elena brings her hand back to her chest and turns to him, but instead of offering her hand to him, she lifts up on her toes and wraps her arms around his neck in a warm embrace.

"Thank you for the gift, Damon." She whispers, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "It was perfect."

Damon had never hugged a woman this early in a relationship, whether it was a friend or not. But the way her curves fit against his chiseled chest just felt right. And the moment when she broke it brought great disappointment to him, although the feeling did not reach his eyes. "You're welcome, Elena."

As the two broke apart, Stefan held his hand out once more to Elena, gesturing over his shoulder. "Would you like to go for a stroll?" He throws a glare to his brother as a warning, although it wasn't a very stern one.

Elena glances from her bronze-haired love to his brother, a slight crease appearing between her brows as she thought about how she would be abandoning Damon. But it suddenly flashed away, knowing that Stefan was her boyfriend, and she wanted no one but him. "I would love to."

They left Damon standing at the blanket of the Draut's, his eyes watching Elena with little emotion in their shadows. He barely knew the girl, really. Aside from the hours of talking which led to their most well kept secrets. And of course, Elena wanted Stefan. Of course Damon would respect that. After all, Stefan was his best friend. He couldn't take her from him.

No matter how much he wanted to.

"She's in the Town Square." Bonnie states simply, her dark hues locked on the droplet of blood on the Mystic Falls map.

Stefan strode around the couch, making his way over to the Bennett witch with a quirked brow. "The picnic," he states simply, glancing over her shoulder at the map. His memories were clear, as always. Not a single cloud in his mind to block the constant flow of images.

The two Salvatore brothers had been at it with Bonnie for nearly three hours, trying to understand the journal. It seemed as if anything that happens to it in the past would reflect the one that Stefan had in present time. Which brought a ray of sunshine in the dark times that they were going through.

The leather journal sat on the table before Bonnie, her eyes shifting from the pages to the pen that laid beside it. It had been decided that they would write beneath Elena's entry and see if it appears in the journal that Elena possesses. Though, they couldn't quite decide who would write it.

As always Damon was indifferent, not really worried about who would write the darn thing, although everyone knew he cared. So honestly, it was down to Stefan and Bonnie. The witch was Elena's best friend, and wanted the one to write it to be the one that means the most to her. Even still, she wasn't sure it was any of them that would truly calm her nerves.

Bonnie's eyes widened as a thick cloud of judgement cleared from her chocolate hues. "Jeremy. Get Jeremy over here now. If Elena's going to be comforted by anyone, it will be her brother. She loves him more than any of us."

And with that, Damon went to fetch the young vampire hunter. It only took a few minutes with Damon using the vampire speed, and Jeremy was more than willing to come along. So it wasn't much of a battle to drag him along. By the time he got there, everyone was crowded around the table. Bonnie, Stefan, Caroline, and Matt all stood together as if someone had died.

Without hesitation, Jeremy made his way over to the table and sat down, glancing up at all of the worried faces and creased brows. His hand found the pen that sat before him on the table, the other flipping open the cover to the first page, where Elena had written her first entry.

He sucked in a breath as he brought the pen to the paper and began to scribble the heck out of it.

Elena -

I know you're scared. I know this is different for you. But you have to stay strong and trust me. Katherine said the spell could only be broken under a full moon. But we will find a way to get you out of there as soon as possible. You're going to have to try and find Emily. She may be able to help us. Do us all a favor, though, and be careful who you keep company with. Stefan and Damon can't protect you anymore.

Love,

Jeremy

It had been nearly an hour since Jeremy had written Elena back. All of them still clung to the hope of possibly being able to contact everyone's favorite damsel. It seemed as though it had been an eternity, however, seeing as how everyone was pretty much on edge about her writing back. Who know if she even would? Just because her entry showed up in the journal, it didn't mean it was a two way street.

If anything, they had just wasted space, and Elena would write right over top of it and they wouldn't be able to make out what she said. Even if they can't talk with her, they still valued what she had to say about her trip to the past. After all, she was taking a stroll down memory lane, that didn't belong to her.

Damon sat on the floor beside the fireplace, a half empty glass of bourbon in one hand and the bottle in the other. He kept insisting that he wasn't stressed about this situation or that he wasn't freaking out, but anyone could see that he was downing his misery. Without Elena there, there was no one to get anywhere near close to seeing his truthfulness. Or him, actually. Aside from his brother, the one who knew the most about him was Elena, and she wasn't there to hear him out. But what else could he do but trust a witch's magic?

If it were up to the Salvatore brothers, Elena would have been back the moment they found her missing.

Bonnie and Caroline sat with their eyes transfixed on the journal, the occasional Matt Donavon appearing over their shoulders. Jeremy was still seated in the same spot, his head resting in the palms of his hands as his fingers clench and unclench his hair. Out of everyone there, he was the one with the most tension in his mind. After all, she was the only family he had left. He couldn't afford to lose her too.

The blonde haired boy shook Jeremy's shoulder, just when the witch and Barbie vampire gasped excitedly. On the paper, ink trailed in perfect loops as it created words in the most beautiful calligraphy. Damon and Stefan were over there in an instant, dying to know if Elena was responding. And just as they hoped, there were the two words that could help them in the end. That gave them the key to communicating with Elena.

Dear Jeremy...

A/N

Sorry this one was so short. I was having major writers block. I meant to post it on Saturday, but there were complications. So here it is, once again sorry for the length! Thanks for reading!

~ Charlotte :)