Chapter 4

The truth, as I know it.

"Taken?" Stefan asked, sitting down again beside Caroline who took his hand in hers where it lay on the polished wood.

"She was murdered by a vile cruel man. A man more powerful than you can imagine." Helena said, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief her son pulled from his shirt pocket, a clean one folded into a neat square.

"What was her name?" Caroline asked quietly, feeling deep sadness for this young woman and her son, as well as to a degree, Damon- for this was his family... His children.

"Honora Lily, after our mothers'." Helena said glancing between Stefan and Damon, who exchanged a small look- a mix of happiness and disgust, at a young child being named after their mother, a thing no child should suffer in their eyes- having her for a mother or indeed a grandmother.

The meal continued in silence moments later when Daniel sat between Bonnie and Damon. Damon kept shooting glances between him and Helena, the latter who seemed to be avoiding his gaze. It was not until after they had eaten, Helena had cleared the plates away to the kitchen and they had all retired for bourbon in the drawing room on the opposite side of the hall, that Damon spoke again.

"I think you need to tell me the whole story. From the beginning, Ellie."

Helena sat in one of the Chesterfield armchairs, an obviously new addition to such an ancient house. Daniel was sat on the floor, his head resting against his mother's thigh, just above her knee. The other two Chesterfield sofas were taken up by Damon and Bonnie and Stefan and Caroline. Helena took a deep breath, stroked Daniel's hair and began the tale.

December 1862

Damon was walking to meet Helena, the woman he desired above all else, to escort her to the winter fayre in their small town of Mystic Falls. It was a particularly hard winter, snow was falling and already deep underfoot, sitting some 6 or 7 inches above the ground. He was undecided whether it would have been better if he had brought the horses from his father's stables for them too ride down, but the driveway to the Salvatore mansion had been pure ice (Damon had practically skated down it to the gate) and he had decided against it, fearing for the animals' safety in such treacherous conditions.

As he turned the corner he could see Helena at her bedroom window looking out for him and he waved before he saw her smile and race from the window and presumably down the stairs to the grand hallway to await his arrival at the door. He quickened his pace, eager to not leave her waiting for him and about a minute later climbed the porch steps to knock on the door using the large iron knocker shaped like a horses head.

He knocked twice before the door was opened by Mr Grey, the Fell's butler. "Good morning, Mr Salvatore. Miss Helena is in the drawing room."

"Thank you, Grey," Damon nodded handing his hat and gloves into the butler's outstretched hand before he walked to the family's drawing room. Helena was sat with a book open on her lap- not that she had been reading it, she looked up and then stood when Damon entered.

"Damon." She breathed quietly as Damon made his way towards her, after surveying the room and making sure her parents or governess were present. He kissed her tenderly, arm snaking around her waist.

"Hello, Helena."

"Let me get my cloak and my hat, then may we go to the fayre?" She asked politely, cheeks blushing pink as they parted.

"Of course." Damon nodded, pleased he was the one making her blush and let her go before returning to the hallway where Grey handed him back his hat and gloves. Helena soon followed and Grey handed her a pair of gloves. She smiled at the elderly butler before he opened the door and saw them out with a small smile.

They walked together arm in arm down to the centre of Mystic Falls, passing her uncle's surgery and her cousin Henry who waved at them from the window. Henry was Damon's best friend, both returned from part of the civil war for Christmas leave. They would be leaving again in the new year. A time Helena dreaded, for there was always the opportunity she could lose either of them. Damon doffed his hat and Helena waved back before they continued off to meet Stefan on the corner of the street with the Salvatore's cousin, Charlotte who was visiting from Louisiana.

They spent hours at the fayre, ice skating and eating roasted chestnuts by the frozen lake, and then as dusk fell Damon accompanied Helena back to the Fell's mansion. Just beofre they fell in sight of the house, Damon pulled her round to the side of the stables, amongst the evergreen pines where they would be hidden from view.

Helena laughed as she partly slipped on the ice and Damon caught her, pressing her gently towards the wall of the stables.

"What are we doing, Damon?" She asked breathlessly, arms snaking around his neck and fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Saying goodbye." He replied, kissing her... Her cheeks, her lips and slowly down her neck. Helena sighed and kissed him back.

"Goodbye seems so definite... So solid. Why don't we say something else?" Helena suggested tensing under Damon's touch so he moved his head from her neck and looked her in the eyes, hands moving to cup her cheeks.

"I'll be seeing you... How's that?" He asked kissing her again.

"I'll be waiting for you..." Helena replied and Damon smiled before kissing her again and again...