Hey guys! I'm staying with my grandma right now... fun. But, it gave me some serious inspiration for this chapter, and I'm going to start writing... NOW!
Um... okay, not now, because I have some notes.
First of all, I dont own TVD, like I said before... sad monkey.
and another thing, the flashbacks will be very slow coming, slowly the happenings of the nights leading to Katherine's death and Elena's kidnapping will be shown, but after it is all revealed, I don't think there will be any more flashbacks, sorry. Alright, I'm going to start... now!
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Elena managed to find her way around the Salvatore mansion quite easily, popping her head in each room breifly before jumping to another room.
One room held an elegant looking wooden bed, with a wonderful looking mattress covered by a creme silk sheet and a feather down comforter, and the bed's large poles, supporting a light lace canopy held a sheer curtain around it. The bed frame was lined with a thin, undulating line of golden paint, and the entire frame was gracefullly curved, with identical indentations on the poles. There was a smaller, less beautiful bed on the side of it, with only a white, dirty looking quilt on it. A full length mirror was showcased in the corner of the room, and the wooden floor looked worn down and used often. Cobwebs collected on the sides of the walls but that did little to cover the sheer sophistication and refinement of the room.
Elena felt tears spring in her eyes and her throat catch when she found a picture of a woman with straight raven hair that cascaded down her shoulders, the image nailed on the wall of chipping creme and striped paint. She looked old and worn down with sickness, but her eyes held a fire that was easily caught by the less modern camera. In fact, Elena was almost certain that the Salvatores had one of the very first cameras ever used. The sepia tone did little to hide the woman's eyes, though. Her eyes were so light, so incredibly light, Elena could tell they were not brown, nor green as Stefan's were, but blue. A beautiful, blazing, brilliant blue.
Elena had to look away, but not before she captured the date of her birth and... death.
Alessandra Salvatore
1822-1850
Elena cringed; she was only 28 years old at the time of her death. She tore her gaze away, not wanting to allowing herself to do the math of the ages for Stefan and Damon's ages at the time of their mother's death.
But of course, Elena's head had already processed numbers. Stefan was only three years old at the time, it must not have been too much of a burden on him. But Damon was eight years old, his mother's death must have killed him, Elena thought sadly. She wondered how Alessandra must have died, possibly from sickness or disease, but Elena didn't want to ask... or, she didn't want to bring up bad memories by asking.
Elena could've asked Stefan, but she knew he was only three at the time, he might not have had the entire story. She would ask Damon, he would know for certain.
By what she heard from Stefan, Damon and their mother were very close, considering the fact that his father didn't respect or value him. Elena still felt even more sympathy for Damon, and that sympathy only added to her colossal accumulation of compassion for him.
Elena made the decision to take the picture off the wall, and cautiously place it in the box. Damon would appreciate it.
Elena continued to search the room, slowly wondering why the room had an extra bed... Elena turned to the dresser, and found her answer.
On the dresser laid a small, pocket sized, sepia toned picture of... Katherine. And next to that was a small, silver brush with soft white bristles, and engraved on the handle in the same cursive font that wrote Katherines name on the picture, was written "Katherine Pierce."
The extra bed belonged to her friend and servant, Emily Bennett.
So the guest bedroom that Katherine stayed in belonged to Stefan and Damon's mother. Elena was appalled at the lack of respect Guiseppe had, letting a woman who was having an affair with both his sons, stay in his late wifes room. Elena's brows knit together and her nose scrunched.
She was continuously liking Guiseppe less and less.
Elena couldn't bear to be in the room any longer, so she gathered the boxes she had set down and continued to walk into the narrow hallway to another room, another memory...
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Elena looked into the fear of her brothers eyes, fear and hunger and rage that shone brightly as Elena was forced steadily towards him.
Elena felt the trail of blood trickle down her arm... and her leg... and her head. Elena remembered faintly being in her room, then knocked unconscious. She somewhat recollected a man with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes dragging her throughout a large house, kicking her and hurting her. She recalled the raging incineration of her left arm when the man held her to a blazing fire.
She felt the tears sting in her eyes, as she was shoved toward the dead, alive, transitioning Jeremy Gilbert. Katherine had one of her newly acquired minions hurt Elena and give Jeremy the choice. Feed on Elena or die.
This was the man that had helped Katherine abduct Jeremy and John the night of the Founders day events. Ryan took them, used them for amusement, but Katherine had hardly anything to do with them, except for the decision of their final fate. Death.
Elena then prayed, prayed to God that by some miracle, that Jeremy would be able to control himself, that the animal wouldn't control him.
But she knew he wasn't strong enough, that in the end, both of them would die no matter what. This man, his name was Ryan, Elena remembered, was ordered by Katherine to kill both children, and he would oblige.
Ryan shoved Elena harshly into Jeremy's arms, and he walked slowly up the staircase back to the main level of the house. Elena heard the lock of the door click. She looked to Jeremy, and he backed away, fearful. If Jeremy had even a fighting chance of living, Elena had to sacrifice herself. Elena held out her bloody arm, petrified, and sobbed, broken-hearted.
"No, Elena," Jeremy whispered, stunned, "I can't..."
"You have to," She said feircely, this was all for him, "You have to fight and live-"
"I can't control myself-"
"I don't care" Elena whispered. Elena saw understanding dawn in Jeremy's eyes as he realized the gravity of Elena's offer.
"Elena, you have so much to live for," Jeremy weeped, "I can't be the one to murder you."
"But this is for you. I will always be a part of you, because of this, and you will be strong and alive because of it. You need to feed now. You too, John" Elena uttered, acknowledging her father for the first time. She turned her head to him slowly, barely catching him in the dull lighting of the basement they were held in. He looked horrified by this exchange, curled into a literal ball in the corner of the room.
"I don't want this," he bawled in a cold sweat, "I don't want to turn. I would never-"
"But you'll die!" Elena interrupted, "It's your only choice"
"No. I have lived a wonderful life, but I have nothing to live for, certainly nothing important enough to kill my daughter for... I won't feed..." then, something lit in Johns eyes, it looked strangely like hope.
"What is it, John?" Elena inquired.
"...is he only able to drink pure human blood?" John demanded, his voice almost sounding... excited. He had come on to something, but Elena wasn't entirely sure what...
"I don't know, John, I'm thinking that any blood will do, almost like how Stefan can live off animal blood-"
John cringed, then he stood, his head nearly hitting the low ceiling in his corner of the room. He walked into Elena and Jeremy's part of the basement, but continued walking to Jeremy.
Jeremy nodded to him, a silent exchange passing between the two for a moment. Elena noticed then that Jeremy was... a man. An adult. He was nearly as tall as John, and his eyes held and eery maturity rarely found in children his age or older.
"Jeremy, you have to feed off of me." John commanded. There was no room for a question in his tone, he was ordering.
Jeremy shook slightly, then held his hand out for John to shake one last time. Tears were threatening to overflow in Jeremy and John's eyes. Elena watched, staggered by what John was doing. He was sacrificing himself to a vampire.
Instead of releasing John's arm, Jeremy held it to his mouth, closed his dark and vein pertruding eyes tightly, and dug his fangs into Johns flesh.
Elena yelled "no!" realizing abruptly that it was over, that John was going to die.
John collapsed, his eyes looking empty and dull, but Elena ran to him and kneeled on the ground where he subsided in his last moments of life.
"No, John, please..." Elena trailed off, "How can I help? Tell me..."
With much effort, John turned his head to Elena, his eyes bringing back a small amount of light, and his gasps were quick and shallow, "there's only one thing... call me dad, just...just one time..."
Elena felt the tears overflow her cheeks, and she laughed a delicate, bitter, sorrowful laugh, "okay, dad. I'm sorry I have been so horrible to you-"
"No, it's okay... just, let me give you some advice... fatherly advice-" he chuckled, then was cut off by a body trembling cough, "You know that... that lately I haven't had much... control over your choices... I don't have the right to help you in your life because I was never... never there... so you have to always... always know what you want. Know what you want in life..." his eyes shut then, his last breath forming one last shaky word, "Goodbye..."
Elena sobbed over his still, lifeless body, Jeremy looking down at him, despising himself for what he did.
In that moment, she heard scuffling noises above her, yelling and gasping and falling. Crashing was heard throughout the house, and then the basement door was broken down, revealing the artificial light throughout the house.
"Elena! Elena are you down here?" Elena thought she heard Stefan yell, descending the steps.
'Why does he sound different?' Elena thought miserably, 'He almost sounds like...'
Elena was cut off by strong, protective arms wrapping around her, leaning into her, becoming part of her, but this body was not too large, the body melted into her at just the right size...
"Elena..." Damon croaked, tears falling from his eyes, wrapping his arms even tighter around her fragile body. He lovingly and protectively tried to get her to stop fighting him so she could break free of his grasp to run to John, "you're alright, it's okay, shh, it's okay." Elena was sobbing the entire time, sobbing for John... for her father. No wonder she had been so confused as to who was upstairs, who fought for her and resued her, who came to her rescue as the eternally ironic white knight.
Elena's dark knight.
But she didn't yearn for Stefan to come and whisk her away, to lay her head under his and softly caress her, to soothe her and make her stop crying.
She wanted Damon to let her fight and yell and scream, Damon to allow her to wrestle against his strong hold and try to reach for her father, Damon to revive any fight she had left in her almost lifeless body.
Elena wanted Damon. She was tired enough, she would not put in the scarce amount of strength she had left trying to fight it. Instead, she fell into his warm embrace, fell into him, and unknown to her, allowed herself into Damon's heart...
Damon looked panicked at Elena's sudden change, but nonetheless held her, with no intentions of ever letting her go.
Elena wouldn't either.
Damon looked at Jeremy, who was staring longingly at Elena's neck, a pained expression crossing his features, "leave," Damon pleaded, watching over Elena. Jeremy's veins were showing, but with the hardest struggle of Jeremy's life, he managed to hide them, if only for a moment.
"Where is Stefan?" Jeremy asked, looking for an immidiate answer. Elena's bawling had subsided with that question and she listened for the answer herself.
"He went... he went to see Katherine," Damon replied softly, "she said she wanted to see him, that she wouldn't hurt you-"
"How did you know to find us?" Jeremy interjected impatiently, "When Katherine said that she wouldn't hurt us, you came for Elena..."
Elena looked up at Damon, and in that instant their eyes met, he looked almost... embarrassed. He looked stunned by the fact that Jeremy had said that he came for Elena.
She would never forget that.
He didn't return his gaze to Jeremy, but continued to gaze at Elena, almost craving her, "I came for all of you, I came for... for Stefan."
Elena returned his longing gaze, but felt shattered at that fact. That Damon came to rescue Elena for Stefan, only for Stefan. The fact tore through her, and she unknowingly whimpered. Damon reflexively held her closer, allowing himself to do what he yearned to do since the day he met her.
Just to hold her.
Jeremy caught the look in Damon's eyes, but he continued to press, was the room getting smaller? He couldn't breathe, he couldn't feel anything other than the pulse and blood and the running bloodstream just under Elena's flesh, so easily obtained. "But how did you know to come?" Jeremy croaked, his throat cracking due to the unnatural dryness.
"I never trusted Katherine, never for a second," Damon quipped roughly.
'That means that Stefan does trust her' Elena thought, doleful. Damon could sense her tense up, so he continued uncomfortably.
"He really didn't have a choice, though. He left for you, not because he... he trusted her" Damon whispered, for the first time in his life, defending his brother. Elena was startled, but his abnormal words brought her back into the reality of the situation... She was with Stefan. Stefan. His image flooded her mind and she felt the greif and guilt wash over her. She awkwardly moved out of Damon's grasp, and his eyes held so much pain and sadness, but most importantly, acceptance at this move, it was difficult for Elena to resist falling into his arms once again.
'Why didn't Katherine want to speak with Damon, also?' Elena wondered idly. Another thing she had to ask him at another time. Jeremy nodded solemnly at the answers he was given, then vanished, using his new found speed to book it out of the room as fast as possible. Elena watched him go, and fought the tears that threatened to overflow again. For the smallest of moments she glanced at Damon, and she knew that he saw the pain flash in her eyes and her face distorted with sorrow. She wished he would gather her in his cautious yet always passionate embrace, but she knew he would never, not when he was uncertain of her reciprocating that show of affection. He wouldn't open himself up until it was clear that he wouldn't be hurt. And Elena understood... somewhat.
Damon looked at John Gilberts corpse, and respectfully bowed his head for a moment. She observed him shut his eyes, and his next movement stunned her. He brought his hand up to his head "the father", then to the center of his chest "the son", then to the left side of his chest "and the holy", then the right "spirit, amen".
Damon was praying.
He looked up at her once he reopened his eyes, his somber and beautiful blue eyes... and they were piercing her soul. "Let's get you out of here..." he murmured...
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Elena stopped at the door at the end of the hall, the closed door gave off a very secluded vibe. Someone alone, distant... Elena held her fist up for a moment, foolishly thinking to knock, letting her manners get the best of her. She laid her hand on door handle and the cool touch of it calmed her nerves, rather than putting her on edge. Although the room had an odd aura, Elena felt safe. She opened to door slowly, peaking her head in, and felt the air leave her lungs when she witnessed the room.
Alessandra's room was nothing compared to this, the wooden floors were not worn down, but glazed over with brazilian cherry wood lining each square inch of the floor. The bed however, was simply regal. The mahogany wood was painted a dark color, and the curves of the headboard went in, then drastically up where the numerous arcs were centered to a single carved shell in the wood. The poles that jutted out from the corners of the bed were gracefully bowed, then turned to look like thin almost greek-like pillars, and at the top, instead of cloth as the canopy, an almost masculine, wood arch covered the bed, protecting it from damage. The comforter was silk in a dark blue, coming in to evenly placed buttons that gave it a simply heavenly look to it. The sheets that protruded slightly under were a paisley design, but it was all warm colors, red, brown, yellow, and the contradiction added a very stylish overall feel. In the center of the room held a brazilian cherry wood fireplace, but oddly enough, the fire was burning. Showcased in front of it was a small, victorian style couch in a dark, blood red, and the throw pillows, matching the bed sheets, were the same paisley design and fabric. The fire cast an eery glow to the atmosphere, and accentuated the perplexing, yet oddly alluring room. Every corner held shadows that highlighted the curves and edges of the furniture. Standing on it's own, on the side of the room, was a large mahogany wardrobe, that hit the ceiling and the floor at a perfect height. At the right of the wardrobe was a nail, obviously showing where a picture used to hang previously. Elena opened the door completely, fully allowing herself inside. The walls were an almost yellow creme color, fresh and distinct on the walls. She gaped openly and uncontrollably at the room once again, looking out on the terrace at the civil, cool twilight that descended upon the outskirts of Mystic Falls. The separating doors were lined with cherry wood, and the glass shone like diamonds, glistening in the last amount of daylight the earth had to offer. On each side of the terrace were large Victorian windows that allowed access to the outside world and the property line of the Salvatore mansion and the maze and gardens out back.
With a smile, Elena knew who the room belonged to.
Peculiar, it even smelled like Damon. Musk, flowers, sweet liquor and the faintest trace of cinnamon was carried to her nose. She walked around slowly, and instead of collecting things for Damon, she observed the room, feeling oddly at home. She didn't pay any mind to the fact that the fire was lit, or that there was a small glass of brandy laid sloppily on the mahogany coffee table in front of the couch. Elena didn't pay any mind to the fact that the room was too fresh, too clean to be untouched for more than a century, that someone must have put in long hours and days of effort to keep it this lovely. She continued to walk around, her dainty feet grazing the oriental carpet that was lined before the bed.
Elena's attention was then called to the wardrobe lining the wall opposite the terrace. She walked to it hesitantly, and slowly, cautiously, opened it. There was a series of loose shirts, trousers and slacks, small, worn down special occasion shoes and dirty, obviously frequently used boots trailed with mud. There were also many hats, to Elena's surprise, as well as a drawer dedicated to neck ties and handkerchiefs that reminded Elena briefly of ascots. Elena giggled at the thought of Damon dressed oddly like Hugh Hefner, pretty girls lined all around him dressed in skimpy clothes; it wasn't too far off the mark. There were many vests, black ones as well as looping patterns and beautiful designs that branched off of the center and continued to line the fabric. Damon also had many coats as well as dress jackets, made of the softest silk and the coziest cotton. Elena openly smelled the clothes, and shut her eyes in contentment. It had the "Damon" aroma. She looked farther into the wardrobe to find more, but was met with a distressing sight. A light blue coat with golden buttons and golden lines was showcased secretly in the back, hidden from whoever was to take a quick glance in the closet.
How was it that Elena was always the one the find the things that Damon tried so hard to hide?
It wasn't stained with blood, as most Confederacy uniforms would be, but instead clean as if it was hardly worn. With the way it was secluded, Elena would have guessed that the uniform was a disgrace to Damon, which would make perfect sense considering that he left early to be with Katherine. He was a disgrace to his family in that sense, but did it wound his pride to see?
She wouldn't allow herself to dwell on the subject any longer, seeing as it was too saddening to dwell on. Elena walked over to the bed hesitantly, then laid the boxes that were at her feet on the bed, and quickly grabbed the only thing occupying them. She quickly went back to the right side of the wardrobe wall, then hung the picture of Alessandra Salvatore, showcasing it.
With that, the terrace doors swung open with an unnatural wind, not nearly startling Elena. It didn't bother Elena when she felt the presence behind her, or the man closing the distance between them as she faced the wall. She didn't mind him gracefully swinging his long, muscular arms around her petite frame, or the way she could almost feel the smirk, tinged with sadness, slide easily onto his face.
The terrace doors shut again, and all was still.
The man nestled his head into Elena, and she felt her legs lose feeling. She reacted to him, strangely enough, and he reacted to her.
They both shuddered with pleasure and the man's hold on Elena became the smallest bit tighter. There was no seduction, and that made him even more appealing to her.
Elena realized that he wasn't there for any ulterior motive, he was there because he wanted to be there. To stand with her and indulge in their hidden, sick pleasures. He leaned in close, his breath tickling her neck and raising goose bumps along her flesh.
"You like my room?" Damon breathed into her ear.
O.O!
cliffhanger!
Silly me, why would I do that? Again, I am sorry if the characters were out of character, I just couldn't help it : )
Also, I indulged in my inner artist a little bit, this chapter took A LOT of research, and Damon's room was probably my favorite to write, were you expecting it to be him in the end? And also, the fact that Elena could feel his presence before she even entered the room, feeling as though she had to knock. I am thinking of doing DAMON POV next chapter, he has the memories of Katherine saying she didn't love him, yadda yadda yadda. I hope you enjoyed this, I don't even have a pattern for posting anymore, inspiration hits when it hits. Oh, and I didn't know the mother's name, so I had to make it up. I hope you liked the John closure, Jeremy isn't done though. Sorry : /
Okay, like, no like, I think this was one of my favorite chapter to write, I love writing with John and stuff, and introducing new surroundings, so I hope it wasn't TOO incredibly boring.
Sheesh ya'll, twas a dream!
-Taylor 3