Chapter title from 'Tethered' by Sleeping at Last.
In the morning, Elena knocks on the LaForte's door and it's Bree who lets her in.
"I'm hopping in the shower; you two be ready to head down by the time I'm out, okay?" the woman asks, towel already in hand.
While Elena can hear the attempt at keeping control in her voice, she reads a sleepless, worried night in the dark shadows underneath her eyes.
"Sure," she says, and sees that Maggie is sitting up in bed, blinking rapidly and probably about to fall back to sleep if no one intervenes.
So she sits heavily on the bed next to her, having to jump a little to be able to seat herself. "Hey," she says.
"Morn'n, Aim" Maggie mumbles. "Do you know what the plans are for today?"
Elena shrugs, trying to infuse the gesture with the sympathy she feels; sitting around feels like they're powerless. "I think we're just waiting on Klaus right now."
"This sucks," the bed-swaddled girl declares, as she draws her knees up and wraps her arms around them over the sheets. "I just want Mom back, and for all of us to go home and have this behind us."
"This will be over soon," Elena says, soothingly, because she can't say anything else, really, without lying. "Elijah says it's like chess, and you have to wait for-"
"Why didn't you tell me about him before?" Maggie suddenly demands, a little more awake and the hurt she feels displayed in scrunching eyebrows and a twist of the lips that's a frown and a bit of a pout.
Because he was part of her past (or so she thought)? Because he's important to her? Because she doesn't ever show what's closest to her, really, and somehow even bringing up a conversation regarding him had seemed to be impossible? She's shared a little, over the last two years, about some of the people she used to know (not enough, thank God, for Maggie to recognize Caroline or Bonnie for who they were based off of her descriptions, but enough that Maggie knew a little about her background), but Elijah is...
What is Elijah to her, anyway?
"I should have told you about him," she answers, shaking that line of thought. "I'm sorry Maggie. It's just that I helped him with something before and I thought it was over, and now here we are and..."
"Is he the one who taught you about vampires, all the stuff you know about them?"
She considers this. "Yeah," she half-lies, and feels nearly sick while doing so. "That's him."
"So he knew you when you were what, a teenager?"
She nods deciding vague is better than lying. "I was pretty young."
"Must be weird," Maggie muses, "seeing how he hasn't changed since you saw him last. He looks the same, right?"
"Of course he looks exactly the same, he's a vampire."
"So he's always been that hot?"
Elena hides her embarrassment by grabbing a pillow and swatting her with it. "Oh my God, Maggie, of all the times to-"
"-Oh, like you don't see it," Maggie responds, knowingly, while yanking the pillow from her. "Admit it, Aimee, the man is hot, and you definitely admire him."
It's kind of like having to breathe – the fact that Elijah is incredibly attractive is one of those things that's 100% true but never really something she's considered.
Elena shakes her head, and rolls her eyes. It's good to see Maggie smiling, even if it's at her expense, and to have her forgiveness. "Thank you," she says, seriously, and hopes it can force a change of conversation.
"Welcome," Maggie responds, then kicks the sheets off to crawl over and give her a hug as she quickly makes her way to the chest of drawers beside her bed. "Mama doesn't take that long to shower," she warns, "so go get dressed, because I'm coming over to see your room whether you're dressed or not!"
Elena dresses quickly, and Maggie comes in to marvel at the room. She launches herself at the bed and settles on top of the duvet, looking up at the ceiling. "He's totally into you, giving you this room."
So maybe Elena doesn't need to check the items in her duffel of weapons; it gives her an excuse to be busy and not have to respond to the teasing by addressing her directly.
The older girl tries not to sigh, but does, as she looks around the bag. "He realized that your room was safest, and this one was connected. There's nothing preferential about it, aside from giving you the windowless room."
"Uh huh." Maggie studies the door for a moment. "Wonder why he had the rooms like this, with the door between them."
"History geek? Probably because it wasn't appropriate to just walk someone up to his room back then. Vampire or not, he's got manners."
"And that doesn't bother you? The fact that he probably, like, used the room for lady friends?"
Why would it? That was how he was able to survive before blood bags (she's totally thought about this and rationalized it to herself, then excused the line of thought as just a way to pass the time). Nerves now at their breaking point, Elena turns from the bag and gives her a long suffering look. "Maggie, just let it go, okay? It's not like that, and now is...it's not the time."
"No time like the present. Carpe diem, and all that," the girl responds breezily, doing a perfect impersonation of Caroline in her more lighthearted moments. The look falters and she sits up, watching her friend with a serious expression. "You always put me first, all the time. You deserve more."
Elena sits on the bed next to her. "You," she says, with finality, "are not a burden, and you're like a sister to me, okay? And Lucy means the world to me, so just...just let me do what I've promi-"
There's urgent knocking on Elena's door, followed by Caroline announcing herself. When the door is opened both Caroline and Bonnie look anxious. "It's Klaus," Caroline says. "He called Elijah."
They all adjourn in the library, a room that reminds her terribly of the Salvatore's. Elijah is standing at the fireplace, staring down contemplatively. In seeing him now, she suddenly is aware of how open he was last night during their conversation, as now he seems so guarded.
And she can see (perhaps she always has, but she's refused to acknowledge it) him for what he is, on the outside: an attractive man. His frame is muscular but slim, the angular lines of his face offset by the softness of his eyes and lips.
She chides herself for her line of thought when she finds herself studying his lips, avoids his questioning gaze, and makes a beeline for the sofa Maggie has seated herself on.
He can probably hear her blood rushing to flush her face.
"Is Lucy okay?" Bree asks hurriedly as she enters the room. Her hair is still wet from the shower, and it's obvious from the twist of her shirt that she dressed hastily. When the bartender sits between Maggie and Elena, Elena discretely tugs on the side of the clothing and fixes it.
"My brother states that he will see to it that Lucy is treated excellently until the ceremony, and warns that I must do the same with her daughter," he replies. Her arm pressed against Bree's, Elena can feel part of the woman's shaking tension relax slightly.
"Does he have Elena?" asks Bonnie, apprehensive of his answer.
Elijah shakes his head. "No, apparently, she continues to evade him..."
(By hiding right under his nose with the brother he thinks is helping him.)
"...He has also discovered that another part of the ceremony is missing, and suspects that I have it – Tatia's bones."
Maggie scrunches her nose slightly and looks around, as if she'll find them in the room.
"They are being safely kept until I have need for them," Elijah assures them. "However, my brother's paranoia knows no equal; if our plan is to work, he must be convinced that I am aiding him."
"So we can't screw this up." Caroline does a very good impression of Damon, crossing her arms and settling back on the loveseat.
"Although they would not have been my choice of words, yes," he replies. "However, I cannot help but advise my brother should remain ignorant of your presence, Caroline. And you, Bonnie; he expressed great frustration over his inability to kidnap you."
Bonnie raises her hand as if she's in class. "For the record, I'd like to point out that it wasn't even my magic that kept that hybrid out of my dorm building. It was like there was some sort of bubble around me, or something, but I wasn't consciously causing it. Not that I would have gone with him otherwise," she adds quickly.
"Okay, so what, we just bum out here?" asks Caroline. "Isn't that what we're already doing?"
Elijah moves from the fireplace to lean against an armchair that faces the group. "My brother has requested a face-to-face meeting, for numerous reasons. Foremost is his desire to ensure I truly have Miss LaForte in my custody, and if that is the case, to see I am treating her properly. While her presence is required-"
"-And ours," interjects Bree firmly, pointing between herself and Elena, even as the younger woman's mouth automatically opens to demand her inclusion.
Elijah dips his head. "-Of course. These three ladies must accompany me, but I will request that you stay here at the manor."
Bonnie's expression deflates a little, but she reluctantly agrees, Caroline echoing similar sentiments.
They all disperse and agree to meet back in the foyer in an hour. Until then, Elena prepares, trying to find as many ways to conceal a stake in the back of her jeans, and wraps, gingerly, a vervain grenade in her bag.
That is, until Elijah stops by. She looks up from the spread of weapons on her bed to acknowledge him in her doorway, but goes back to her work, knowing he understands her invitation to enter. She hears him close the door but continues to focus on the items on the bed.
She wants to be armed to the teeth. She wants to be ferocious. Elena can't – Klaus holds too much over her head, but 'Aimee' is a new unknown to him, and he holds, to his knowledge, no collateral against her.
There hasn't been a single time that she's gone up against him successfully. It hurts but she has to be honest: she's run from him like Katherine did. Even that can't be considered a victory, however small, because she still has had to spent time at regular intervals finding people to bribe at blood banks to draw her blood so she can send it, on ice, to the Original.
"He will have all of us searched before we go in," he says, apologetic, as he approaches the bed.
With a sigh, Elena stops and gives him a disparaging look. "Any suggestions then?"
He studies the layout on her bed for a moment, then holds up one of the vials of vervain in his open palm. "Your best bet, I'm afraid, beside what you already have."
She takes a calming breath, trying to get herself and the panic rising in her under control. It's a little weird to think of how much she has come to rely on wooden stake as her own freakish security blanket, but now she's going to be without it and her assurance in the meeting going well is skittering away.
"Right. Okay," she says as she reaches to take the vial from his hand, but instead of letting the glass go, he takes his free hand and wraps it around both the vial and her own. His skin is almost warm, and smooth, but he gives his grip a reassuring pressure and the abstract thought that 'he could kill but he chooses to comfort' floats through her mind. She's not sure which one of them steps closer (maybe they both do, a little), because she's lost in the pacifying expression in his warm brown eyes.
"Today will not be the day you are held to your promise," he whispers. "I will do my best to keep Klaus from paying you any attention, but you must try to fight against the Fire, if you can."
Elena can probably count, on one hand, the instances in which she's heard him like this, so affected. It's emotion (Vulnerability? Concern?) buried beneath a thin veneer of decorum, and she hates herself for having to disrespect it with what her response will be.
"I can't agree to that, Elijah," she responds, softy, regretful. "You know that."
His eyes close, and she watches him swallow, the movement in the muscles of his neck suddenly hypnotic. The instinct to comfort him – how she doesn't know – is strong but conquerable. "Of course," he says, the smallest of pensive smiles on his lips. "That was selfish of me."
And before she can ask him what he means by that, he's gone.
Two minutes later, Maggie arrives with two sandwiches, and she sits in the bed and watches Elena pack it all up.
"You're distracted," she says, mouth full of food. "You've taken that crossbow out and checked it and put it back in like, three times."
"A lot on my mind, Mags," Elena says, absently.
"So Elijah stopped by then?" the seated girl concludes, brightly. Elena lets the knife she's holding fall back to the bed covers, and Maggie takes a victorious bite from her sandwich. "Knew it."
"How can you even focus on that at a time like this?" Elena asks the girl, disbelieving. "You need to take this seriously."
It's the wrong thing to say. The sandwich hits the plate loudly, and there's a dark anger to Maggie's expression. "What do you want me to do, Aim? Sit in my room and sob? This sucks, but I can't...you told me yourself that this Klaus guy is going to try to win by threats and intimidation. I'm not going to let him get to me. I'm petrified of what he could do to Mom, but would you please just let me distract myself?"
Elena's never seen her this upset at her (and it's not really her, it's the situation, she knows), and she sort of deserves it. She nods, meekly, and apologizes (again, how many is that in forty eight hours?) and goes back to repacking her duffel.
Maggie watches, now a little sullen, for a moment, and then says "Caroline thinks you're a Buffy."
"What?"
She gesticulates with the hand occupied with the sandwich. "Um, have you looked in the mirror recently?"
Blond. Armed to the teeth. Mystical Powers. She can't help but grimace, which causes Maggie to laugh. She stomps her way over to the desk while she carries the bag, knowing it will incite more mirth in her friend.
"And," the girl gets out between giggles, "you've got a vampire crushing on you, too."
Elena groans and drops the bag, and glares at her, but there's no anger behind it.
Maggie raises her hands in mock surrender.
"At least she didn't think you were a Bella."