Chapter's title from 'Rabbit Heart' (Raise It Up)' by Florence and the Machine. But if you really want to hear a fantastic cover of this (which is a little more fitting), check out Bphilipsbelgium's cover over on youtube. Gorgeous!
Elena's apprehensions grow just as rapidly as the time seems to pass. She and Elijah seem to linger more, each morning, before finally getting up and starting their days. Nights are more desperate and needy, but in the light of day they take their time, slow and intimate and seared into her memory.
She's in love with him, she knows this. The courage to go into the Resurrection and probably die in the process comes to her more quickly than the emotional strength it takes to admit her feelings to him.
Bree finally catches on to Maggie's flirtations with Peter Krall, and while both Elena and Maggie wait for her to admonish her, Bree simply shrugs.
"With everything going on," she says heavily, "I can't fault you for wanting something like that."
Lucy is alive, as of the last time Elijah met with Klaus (he went alone, they demonstrated Maggie's safety to Klaus, and he apparently did the same). There's been no word from her, and Bree spends a great deal of time simply sitting, staring into space. When this is over, Elena knows she'll be strong and pull through for her daughter, but right now she seems hollow, as fragile as an autumn leaf.
And for some strange reason, Damon is respecting that.
He jokes around, challenges her to make him obscure drinks at the bar in the lounge, and is trying to distract her from what could be her impending grief. Left on his own, he seems agitated, and Elena's caught him trying to call her phone a couple of times, but he always ends up pocketing the phone, disappointed there's no response.
Klaus isn't really contacting her. Her paranoia is skyrocketing.
He knows. He knows. It's an echoing chant in her head once more, and the results this time will not be good.
They talk, and they face the facts: if he knows, then her death is assured. She's got to expect the worst as they continue. Elijah is not sullen, nor is he trying to talk her out of her plans. She knows that there is a very likely chance she could die during the Resurrection, and he's agreed to give her some of his blood that morning, just to be safe.
She's braced herself for opposition, based off of her previous experiences with vampires and this sort of decision, but none comes. If anything else, he's been helping to make sure she's prepared in as many ways as possible.
He sits down with her and goes over deeds and bank accounts and helps her with the process of ensuring everything is also set up in someone else's name. She took care of a great deal of this before leaving Mystic Falls, but she gains a peace of mind as they go over all of it once more.
She didn't think she could care for him more than she already does, but then realizes how foolish that sounds; every day, they spend time learning of the other's life, and while she greedily drinks in the images that he paints with his words, he seems just as eager to ensure that he remembers every detail she describes. There is always that niggling fear in the back of her mind – what if she doesn't come back – and he must understand her desire for someone to remember, for someone to know everything she wants told.
Once more, Elena sits down to write letters to her loved ones. The sentiments of her previous letters are in these as well, but she adds to it her explanation of the past two years, and her apology for the deception.
To the pile of letters, she adds four new ones, for the LaForte-Bennetts, and for Elijah. Of all the letters she has written, his is the shortest. There would be too much for her to say if she allowed herself to truly consider what it is that's left unsaid between them.
His is a small scrap of paper, old parchment from his own supply. She carefully practices using the ink fountain and pen several times before she's satisfied that she can write efficiently without allowing for blobs of ink to mar the note. With a world and a lifetime of things she wishes to say, she settles for what is truly beneath all of it.
I love you.
Thank you.
I love you.
That first phrase needs repeating.
Elena tucks the note inside the band of her bra and keeps it there for the duration of the day, an impulsive move that she knows will ensure her scent – the first thing he ever recognized as distinctly her own – is left on it.
Bree comes urgently running into Elijah's study three days before the Resurrection to show the pair a small slip of paper. Lucy's handwriting is obvious, and noticeably rushed.
Another is the only word on it.
"What does that mean?" Elena asks, immediately rising from the chaise lounge, dislodging the books and notepad on her lap from her reading.
Bree, who cradles the paper and cannot seem to stop stroking the delicate letters, gives no answer, and Elena looks over to Elijah, whose look is grim.
There's no way to move up their plans, not without risking lives.
The last day before the day of the Resurrection comes. She wakes before dawn, having set her alarm for it. They stare out the window at the dim light, and Elena runs her fingertips across his chest – sometimes he simply breathes to hear it mimic the sound of her own breath – and when his chest rises with a greater inhalation, she tilts her head up to look at him before he even opens his mouth to speak.
"Do you still want to go?" he asks, and she nods her head against his side.
They dress quickly – his shirt is only half buttoned, the sleeves half-rolled, and dresses in jeans; when she turns and sees this, she can't help it, she laughs, and she is happy she still can. She bundles herself up and while they seem a mismatched pair by clothing, they slip out the back door, hand in hand, and make for the river's edge, to a spot where the bank on the other side is easy to access, and they jump over.
The hill is small, but when they get to the top of it, Elijah spreads a blanket on the ground, and wraps them in another. She sits between his legs, and leans back into his arms.
The woods are still quiet, undisturbed at this early hour, and they tumble down from the hill in a casual slope, transforming into a valley. Because it is winter, they can see the houses that would normally be hidden beneath a canopy of green. At this hour, only a spare few fireplaces are allowing lazy trails of smoke to ascend from their chimneys. The world is at peace, as is nature.
"Can you feel it here?" he murmurs, low and respectful, in her ear, and she nods. That lovely hum she always feels is present as ever, content and pure. If she were to concentrate hard enough, she thinks, in a place as calm as this, she might just be able to feel the weight of the snow on branches, the weightlessness of the bird. There is an undercurrent of power and it only continues to build until suddenly, beautifully, fantastically, it releases just as the sun appears over the mountain ridge.
The gasp of air that she steals is reflexive, and Elijah holds her closer still.
Elena feels its heat and power and it spills out over the landscape, bleeding amber and gold and whatever it touches is made all the more breathtaking.
Birds start to sing. The hum is louder now as both animals and humans alike start to wake and start their days.
"This is, by far, one of the most awe-inspiring sights one can see," Elijah says suddenly. "I can only imagine what it must be like, to be connected to nature and experience it."
"I've never seen or felt anything like this," she chokes out, unable to tear her eyes away from it all.
"What I feel here, what I see...you are the same to me. I did not intentionally seek it, but I found this in you, and no matter what happens that will not change." She hears him swallow, and a close-mouthed kiss is pressed into the skin behind her ear that peaks out just above her scarf. "My love for you will not change."
She twists and raises herself to her knees, her back warm from the sun that she's turned away from. Her shadow falls across his face, but it matters little as she lowers her head to kiss him.
"I love you," she whispers, against his lips, and he makes a needy sound in return. Her gloved hands press against the sides of his face as she presses kisses to his closed eyelids, to the trail of wet that escapes from them and match her own, and finally, she returns to his lips. "Always and forever," she vows before pressing her mouth to his.
"Always," he rasps into her shoulder as she wraps her arms around his neck. "Forever."
They arrive back at the manor in time for Elena to change into lighter clothing for her workout. The sun has allowed the temperature to creep up slightly, and Maggie knocks on the door, fully dressed, just as Elena is tying her shoes.
It's the first time she's ever not had to be dragged out of bed.
Halfway through their run, Elena stops Maggie suddenly, and makes her try to shoot with the crossbow. The girl's reaction time is much quicker, and the stake sinks deep and clean directly into the trunk of the tree right where the chest area of person would generally be. Maggie beams.
Back in the house, she will show the girl the small gun that has been sitting on her mantle.
She comes in from finishing her run with Maggie and goes to walk into the kitchen for a drink, but comes to a halt when she sees through the small window in the door that Caroline is on the counter, and Stefan stands between her legs, kissing her as if their lives depended on it.
She goes to turn around and finds Damon standing there, arms crossed across his chest with a book in hand. "Nearly walk in on something you didn't want to?" he asks and she nods, and starts to walk away. "You wouldn't believe how many times that would happen to me when he was with Elena." He brightens slightly. "Speaking of doomed relationships, when did all of that start between you and Elijah? No troubles in paradise, I hope?"
She wrinkles her nose and makes to leave, but he blocks her.
"He's a vampire, you know. And if you're not planning on becoming his undead bride, your relationship's only got a few years before you start getting labeled a cougar. Then, it's only a hop, skip and a jump to an homage to Maude."
He walks alongside her, much to her consternation. She's out of breath and sweaty, but he seems to not notice that. As they walk, Damon seems to play with the book but then reaches over and taps her arm with it. "You've been awfully quiet," he declares, and she stops walking to frown at him. At this hour, the hallway beside the dining hall is empty, and dark. The two story windows are mostly covered with thick, dramatic curtains, and they face one another in the dim light of one of these.
"You barely know me enough to judge that," she lies, defensively.
There's a halfhearted sneer in response; it's more of a sad smile. "You may have been a little too preoccupied preparing to die to notice, but I think you and I are both paddling that boat."
He ignores her look of alarmed confusion (and it's real – what has he got planned?) and looks out the window, jams his free hand in his pocket. After a moment, he swallows, and turns back to her with a heavy sigh. "Does Elijah know about your plans?"
"He's fully aware of them, yes," she answers, firm and assured, still not certain where this was headed but confident in that much.
"And he's fine with it?" he asks, dubious.
"Yes, it's my choice, and-"
He cuts her off. "Well I have my own plans, and they include making sure you're still breathing when this is done."
It's not his words but the look he gives her, angry but tender and resolved, that feels like a punch in the gut, and she finds herself paralyzed with fear. Damon takes advantage of this and leans close to her ear.
"For two fucking years I've looked for you, and now that I finally find you, you're sacrificing yourself for some kid you just met? I love you too much to let you go, Elena," he whispers fiercely, barely loud enough for even her to hear. Anger boils beneath the surface, but he seems to be trying to keep himself subdued. "I told you I'd always choose you and I meant it."
"That's not always right," she counters, her head shaking from side to side frantically. "You can't do that, it's not-"
He brings a finger to his lips. "I won't let on, I promise," he says, somber and sad. Then he continues, in a challenging voice. "Stefan and Caroline and Bonnie, they won't know. Carry on with whatever you have cooked up if you want. Keep lying to them, or whatever else it is you have planned. Neither you nor Elijah are going to be able to stop me."
And with that he's pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips, but it feels more like a slap than anything else, and then he's walking around her.
She gathers her wits about her just in time before he leaves the hallway. "If Maggie dies, I'll die," she calls out, trying to sound strong despite the tears in her eyes. It makes him stop, and he turns, confused. It's the distraction she needs. "I promised to protect her until I die. If I fail at that, and she dies, so will I. You can't stop this, Damon."
If it ruins his current plans, he doesn't let on. "Why do you always make it hard for me to protect you?" he asks, bitterly. He backs away, holding up the little book he's hand in his hand, a forced look of blasé on his handsome features. "Gotta go do a little reading," he declares. "I guess I'll see you around."
What he couldn't see was that in her zipup's pocket, she's been tapping at her phone's touch screen with one hand.
When Damon turns around to leave the hallway and enter the foyer, he walks right into the syringe of vervain that Elijah is holding. The older vampire pushes the struggling younger one to his knees. It does not take long for the vervain to work, and Damon topples over. After a quick look around, the Original vampire hoists the Salvatore over his shoulder, and Elena hurries to catch up with him on the way to the dungeon.
"Thank you," she says.
"I suggest we ought to keep him down here until after the attempted Resurrection," Elijah proposes once they've placed him in the cell once more. "That was a rather large dose of vervain mixed with a sedative; he will be unconscious for some time."
"We can only hope," she says with a sigh and looks down at Damon on his cot. "I've tried to be so careful, but he still knew it was me."
Elijah carefully puts his hands into his pockets, and watches her steadily. "Damon Salvatore is no idiot, and he cares for you a great deal; it was only a matter of time before someone caught on, and it makes sense that he would be the first to do so. He has not been as...distracted, as your other friends."
She rubs at her arms, the chill of the basement getting to her, and Elijah take it as a cue to start to climb the stairs. She follows. "Speaking of distractions," she says as they reach the foyer, "we're going to need to totally wipe down that kitchen. Stefan and Caroline were getting a little intimate in there, and well, we eat food in there."
Honestly? She's a little jealous of them. She and Elijah have to limit themselves to their bedroom not only because of discretion, but because they are rather noisy and he has a very faithful habit of saying her name quite loudly and repeatedly.
"Noted and marked to be addressed," he replies, then turns to her, eyes sparkling and the smirk on his lips signaling that their thoughts are on the same path. "Later?" he asks, and desire blooms in her, sudden and unmistakable.
"I'm thinking a lot later," she responds, sadly. "Much, much later."
His hands embrace her hips and her back hits the solid wood of the basement door. Either way she'd be pinned to the spot; his eyes are searing, dilated with want and a little possessiveness, and she knows that her own mirror his.
"When this is done, every inch of this place will be marked by us," he says lowly before dropping a kiss to her neck. Her back arches, pressing her chest into his, and when her head drops back with a thud onto the wood, she remembers where they are and her involuntary gasp at the feel of his lips on her pulse point is transformed into a weary sigh.
Damon's in the basement, drugged because he knows her secret. Stephan and Caroline are having sex where she likes to make her sandwiches. There is a vampire out to bring her long-dead, look-alike ancestor back from the grave. The sad thing is that all of this feels like she's back in her 'zone', so to speak. Maybe she was never meant for normal.
"Come on," he says, and with a hint of reluctance, he steps back and takes up her hand. "Let's go find Bree and see if there is any progress."
They find both Bree and Bonnie with their heads huddled together over a world map; a smaller map of Mystic Falls is peeking out beneath. Bonnie's big hazel eyes are wide with worry and she's nervously gripping her cellphone.
"What has happened?" asks Elijah as he sweeps into the room, rushing to look down at the map. Elena tilts her head to look at it, too. A small pool of blood sits at the center of the map, obstinate and unmoving.
"We were waiting to have definite information before we came to you," explains Bree.
"My boyfriend isn't in Mystic Falls. He's got that auto check in thing on his phone, and it shows him checked in here in Bulgaria somewhere. Jer is Elena's brother and if he's here, that means that Klaus must have him."
Elena feels like the breath was just knocked out of her. Over the two witches' heads, Elijah's glance flickers to hers, concerned. He's had people in Mystic Falls. Shouldn't they have told him Jeremy had left?
"Ladies, would you please try to locate Elena's other friends – Tyler, Alaric and Matt? I am concerned that Nicklaus might-"
"-We can't," interrupts Bonnie, dejectedly. "I only had a little of Jeremy's blood; I asked him for a sample a while ago, just in case of something like this, but the others..." she trails off with a helpless, apologetic shrug.
"We will get to the bottom of this. For all we know, the device may be here, but he may be safe in Mystic Falls. And the others, have any of you spoken with them recently?"
Bonnie worries at her lip. "Caroline and Tyler are still kind of on the outs, but I got a text from Tyler about four days ago. Matt was with Jeremy at the Grille, like, yesterday; there was someone shouting in a foreign language in the background but they said it was just some drunk at the bar."
"Damon was bitching about Alaric not calling to complain about a prank that he played on him," answers Bree, who is sprinkling some herbs on the map. "He's been expecting a call about a Civil War reenactment meeting that he'd scheduled in Alaric's apartment without his knowledge. No word."
Elijah's watchers would have contacted him if something was wrong – they'd just checked in with him yesterday to tell him everything was quiet and everyone had been sighted and deemed safe. How could they be here?
Elijah straightens up and his emotions seems to seep away, his face a neutral mask of calm. "In an hour, I want everyone to meet in this room to go over our plan. Please let the others know. Damon has been subdued in the basement for the time being – his behavior caused concern and we must err on the side of precaution and assume he is compelled – and therefore will not be joining us. Until then."
Bonnie frowns and looks to Elena for validation on the subject of Damon, but she receives a dismissive head shake in return.
And then he turns and briskly walks out the door. Bonnie runs off to find Stefan and Caroline.
"So tell me," Bree asks, as she now holds a crystal over a map, "do you really think he's-"
"-No," Elena answers quickly, ensuring that no one overhears them.
With a heavy sigh, the bartender drops the crystal and leans heavily on the desk as she closes her eyes. "Who?" she says, after a moment, already knowing Elena's answer. They're both aware of Damon's behavior enough to know what to predict; they knew that his plan was to go after someone.
"It was left pretty vague, actually," admits the other woman before sitting heavily on the leather couch. "But there was implied threat to Maggie. He's figured out most of it." She relates the last part somberly.
Bree grabs at a scrap of paper and scrawls on it at a furious pace, then throws it, balled up, at Elena.
She opens the crinkled paper and starts to read the witch's spiky handwriting.
I know you care about him, but you protected Maggie. Thank you.
Elena looks over at Bree when she's finished reading and the woman dips her head, a look of gratitude clear on her face. Then, she goes back to cleaning up. "Is Elijah aware of...all that, the caring thing?"
After throwing a nettled glare in Bree's direction, Elena gets up off of the couch and tosses the note into the fireplace. "Completely," she responds. "But I'm not a teenager anymore; I've sorted a lot of things out. They're always going to be in my heart but Elijah's...He won't stop me from doing what I need to do tomorrow," she surmises simply. Not only does it say a lot about Elijah, it also assures Bree that Maggie's safety won't be compromised.
"About tomorrow," Bree starts to say as she sits down on the couch, but Elena cuts her off with a shake of the head.
"Please," she begs, "Please don't try to apologize. I made you and Lucy a promise, and I knew the risks just as much as you two did. I gained an amazing family and a friend and I..." her throat constricts, and she can't help but smile even as she feels her cheeks grow wet. "I love you guys. I wouldn't trade what we've had for the world."
Bree hugs her tightly, and there's a sniff in the vicinity of Elena's ear before she lets her go.
"You should go find Elijah, before we all meet up," says the older woman, wiping at her cheeks. "I'm sure you two have some super secret planning to do."
Elena pushes off of the couch and leaves Bree to put herself back together before her daughter comes into the room.
Elijah is in their room (it's been their room for a week – his clothing is back in the closet, their sparse toiletries mingle in the bathroom, it's their sweat and tears in the bed), and he appears to have been waiting for her.
"Any news?" she asks as soon as the door is closed and the sage lit.
He shakes his head. "My contacts swear that there have been no disturbances. My only guess is that they were taken around the same time that we left the States, and there are witches with glamors in their stead in Mystic Falls."
She can't help but start to nervously pace as her mind goes over the details. Swapping out her loved ones for witches with glamors is a sign to her, isn't it? "He really does know, then. No wonder he's ignored my texts."
If he was knowledgeable of her duplicity, he'll look for revenge any way he can find it; Maggie will not be allowed anywhere near Klaus. They're going to have to reveal the truth to Klaus as soon as possible, if it's obvious he's aware; he'll keep Maggie alive if it means keeping the Doppelganger alive for the second stage of the Resurrection.
Everyone meets in the library and they quickly hash out a plan. Despite the fact that Elijah stresses they must not intervene, Elena knows them all too well to believe they're listening to a word he's saying. Bree seems apprehensive when it comes to the step where Maggie hands herself over without a fight; as long as it appears Klaus wants to go through with the spell, they will try to keep up appearances. He'd be a fool to try to harm the Bennett witches. Those assembled all agree to the plan, and while Elena would never think of going against an agreement with Elijah, she knows they all will try to, come morning.
Maggie draws her to the side, her lips pressed in a thin line. "Can you um," she stops, and looks over her shoulder to make sure Bree is not paying attention. "Can you make sure to protect this house like you do at home?" In a lower voice, she says "I'm worried Mama might...she might try to stop us tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah sure, Mags," Elena assures her, her voice at a normal volume. "If that makes you feel safer."
Maggie smiles appreciatively, and grabs Elena's hand for a quick squeeze; a small piece of paper is pressed into her palm. Then, she turns away and catches up with Bonnie and Bree as they're exiting the room, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place.
"Are you hungry?" Elena asks Elijah innocently once the others leave. Only then does she flatten out the note to read over the list of needed ingredients and the spell itself.
"Quite famished," is his casual reply.
Their walk to the kitchen is direct, and Elena selects the needed herbs from the spice rack. She grabs up a picnic basket from the top of the fridge and throws the items into it before heading into the supply room adjacent to the kitchen where crops from the garden have been left to dry.
"Would you mind grabbing the rock salt from the supply shed? I think that's where I saw it stored."
Elijah eyes the basket's contents. "How much?" he asks, and she knows he's not normally one for 'dirty' work from the displeasure that's evident in his tone.
"How large is your house?" she counters, raising her eyebrows. "You're the one who built a castle-"
"-It's a manor, I sa-" he starts to defend.
"-It's a big ass perimeter," she says. "I'll probably use all of it. Meet you at the kitchen door in five?"
They place all the items and a large wheelbarrow by the backdoor, in which she'll be able to quickly mix everything come the morning, and head back upstairs.
Morning comes too quickly. Having spent far too long in the shower with Elijah the night before, Elena had fallen asleep with a wet head. The hair tangled between Elijah's fingers is curled, and the pillow is slightly damp.
Again, they dress in near silence, and speedily do so. This time they travel only to the back door of the kitchen, and work rapidly to dump the salt into the wheelbarrow before Elena dumps full containers of the ingredients in as well. She mixes it with a shovel, and hopes that this is a spell that focuses more on intent than process.
The wheel starts to protest as soon as Elijah starts to push it.
"Shit," she breathes, and she glances up at the windows to see if anyone heard the noise.
Elijah simply picks up the entire wheelbarrow and holds it against his hip. Elena can't help but stare. Outside of necessary violence, he never really shows his strength.
She'll be able to do the same, sooner or later.
She presses on.
They circle the entire perimeter of the manor proper, and Elena whispers the incantation as quietly under her breath as possible. Finally, they reach the front door, she takes the quart sized plastic baggie she'd pocketed from the kitchen and fills it with the mixture. It goes into the pocket of her jacket before they reenter the house.
"There you are," Bree calls from the top of the stairs. She hold up a scrap of paper. "Lucy says he's starting, how is he starting?"
There's no way that Klaus can start the spell without two witches, a mother and a daughter, from the Bennett bloodline. Elena can't recall mention of another pair in the family; this was part of the reason why protecting Mags was so important. Her mind races as she tries to remember, and looks up to see that Bree has descended the stairs to stand with them.
"If they're starting this, that means there are other witches being used," Bree says, and it's obvious how heavy her heart is. The witch looks between the couple, giving them a serious look. "Maggie. If it comes down to it, you save Maggie, okay? Not me. Not Lucy. Maggie." Her voice breaks a little on the name.
There's something hidden in her words, and the younger woman's breath catches when she grasps it: saving Maggie means saving Elena. Bree is putting Elena before herself. Elijah's hand on her waist gives an infinitesimal squeeze – of course he deciphered the same.
"Understood," Elena whispers, hating that she is going to go against this woman's wishes very shortly.
A curt nod, and Bree steps back. "Go," she says softly. "Get ready."
Once they return to their room, Elena's hands shake as she starts to go through her duffel, trying to find the gun as well as the dagger and ash. An involuntary jolt of her hand sends vials of vervain to the floor.
"Shit," she breathes, and she barely raises her hands to tear them through her still-blond hair (she's got to keep that secret for as long as she can, no matter how hard it is) before they're caught by Elijah's and he stands before her.
His mouth opens, the lips she loves so much part to speak, but before he can, his phone rings.
It's Klaus' ringtone.
He answers it with the speaker setting engaged. "Brother," Elijah greets, cordial as ever, "are you ready for tonight?"
"Ever so," Klaus says. "Just that one last piece of the big puzzle we're missing, but I think we'll find Miss Elena is closer than we think."
She can discern the sound of a car door shutting just as they hear the noise outside the gates of the manor. She keeps herself from gasping outright, but her panicked eyes flicker to Elijah's. Before she can say anything, Klaus laughs.
"And there you have it," drawls Klaus, and there's a rough edge to his voice that speaks of his disguised anger, "the proof that affirms my suspicions. There's only one girl I can think of offhand who would be fearful of my presence, and who would be with my brother during a private phone call. Betrayed by your own heart, Elena...Again, it seems, actually."
Elena closes her eyes as her stomach seems to drop. They're not prepared – she isn't at least. There's not much they can do, but at least she thought she'd have until tonight.
"I've got some people here with me who've been looking forward to seeing you for quite some time, now. Why don't you come outside, Elena?"
Elijah's hand slips into hers, and she feels that at least she has a grip on him as everything else starts to tumble out of control.