More dark Damon! :)
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Damon awoke a few moments after the first of the morning hours.
Elena was curled next to him on the bed, still deep in sleep.
He placed a light kiss on her cheek, before pulling back the blanket, and climbing to his feet.
He rubbed his face, and in doing so, hoped to rub away the dream that had plagued him.
The dream of Elena and himself having to fight both the Darklings and the Arcs.
He shivered at the thought, but at least it had put things into perspective.
He had to nail down his options and make a firm decision, before things got out of hand.
He weighed the possibilities, as he walked into his bathroom, shut the door, and flipped on the shower.
The water would help clear his mind.
He stepped under the warm beams, and sighed, leaning his body against the marble wall.
He needed to make sense of the mess in his head, and he needed to do it now, before either Elena, or one of his soldiers was around to influence him.
First thing first, the Arcs wanted him dead.
There was no hope of reconciliation, even if he had wanted it.
The Darklings feared him, but it wouldn't take long for their mistrust to cause a mutiny.
Then there was Elena.
She didn't want to give up the Light, but she wanted to be with him.
The Darklings were going to be on edge as long as they viewed her as the enemy, which put her in danger.
Yesterday, the best, safest thing for her, would have been to send her back to the Arcs, back to the Light, whether she was willing or not.
But he knew that it was too late for that now.
The Arcs were training, the Darklings would start preparation...and Elena had to stay by his side.
He would not stand against her in a battle, and he could feel one coming...soon.
Which left him with one option really.
He had to turn her, truly turn her, to protect her.
And he hated the very thought of it.
Well, he hated that she would hate it, and that it would sever her completely from the home she missed so much.
But the thought of her at his side, fighting with him, ruling with him...he wanted that.
Even if it was the most selfish thing he had ever wanted.
He wiped the water from his eyes, and took a shaky breath.
Would Elena even be able to handle the Dark?
The things she would have to do…
It may very well be enough to send her running back to the Light…
Which is what he should want, but with the direction this all was heading…
Ironically, she was safer with him now, if he could only convince his Darklings to trust her…
And to do that, he'd have to break her, his darling angel.
But it was the only way.
The Arcs, namely Stefan, would be out for her blood, for the crime of loving him and choosing him over the Light, over everything.
She was as bad as a Darkling now...
Elena, once again, woke to an empty bed.
Her head felt thick with sleep, so she must have been out for a while.
She called out for Damon, getting out of the bed.
Silence answered her.
The room was empty, and no signs of life were coming from the bathroom either.
She checked anyway.
"Damon?"
Still, no answer.
She went back into the bedroom, frowning, as her eyes ran over the room.
She was alone.
But as she scanned her surroundings, she noticed something hanging on the closet door.
It was an outfit, black and tight, that she'd often seen the Darklings wear.
A note was attached, and she recognized Damon's handwriting.
Get dressed and meet me down stairs -D
She flipped the paper over, but that was all there was to the message.
Ooookay.
She pulled the clothes off the hanger and took them with her into the bathroom.
She showered quickly, dried off, then slid them on.
The texture was strange, stiffer than she'd expected, like leather that had been used and beaten until it was pliable, yet it stretched over her muscles, squeezing onto her curves.
The full back also made it impossible for her wings to engorge, which unsettled her, especially since all her clothes at the Arcs mansion had slits for them.
But she wasn't with the Arcs right now, and the unfamiliar clothing certainly beat facing the Darklings naked.
She let out a breath, and sucked it up.
There were bigger things to worry about.
With renewed determination, she slid on her boots, and made her way to the hall.
She'd found her way through the maze yesterday, and managed to do the same now, eventually landing on the platform that opened to the top of the stairs.
An all too familiar noise filled her ears as she descended them, and she paused to look over the railing.
Darklings, a lot of them, were gathered in this open ballroom replica, sparring, and slicing, and grunting in pain.
They were training to fight, which could only mean one thing…
Stefan had regrouped, and an attack was happening soon.
Her stomach dropped for a moment, as the revelation hit her.
There was no going back now.
No talking Damon into returning to the Light, and no talking Stefan into accepting him back.
There was just war, and a decision to make about her place in it.
Not that she didn't already have her answer.
She wouldn't let Damon be killed, no matter what that meant.
Her eyes scanned the room, until she found him.
Damon and Enzo were speaking to a young Darkling, their movements instructive.
She took the last few stairs, and made a beeline towards them.
But, as if they'd sensed her presence, the room froze the second her feet touched the shining floor, and eyes turned to her from every direction.
She tensed instinctively, ready for an attack.
What she got instead, was Damon, walking through the frozen crowd, to her side.
"There you are."
She tried to ignore the others as she nodded, "Here I am."
Damon seemed to notice her apprehension, and glanced around the room.
"Back to it!" he snarled, loud enough that she jumped, but it was effective.
Sounds of fighting filled the air once more.
Wordlessly, Damon led her through the mass, to the other side, where the noise was less jarring.
"I found your note, and this," She started, looking down at her outfit, "Not exactly my style, but I suppose it'll do."
Damon gave a brisk nod, "I'm glad you agree...now, you remember our bargain, correct?"
It actually took a second for Elena to recall what he was talking about.
Oh, right, the "one week" plan.
"Yes."
He nodded again, "Good. Then as of today, for the next six days, you are no longer a warrior of the Light. You no longer hold the title Arc."
She fought the flinch his words drew from her, and managed to nod her head.
"And you understand," he continued, his voice flat and emotionless, "That shall you survive this week...there's no going back? Ever."
"I understand," she assured him.
"Elena…"
For the briefest second, his expression changed, but then it was gone.
"This is your last chance to back out," he told her instead, "To go home. If you decide that you still want to go through with this, so be it. You will abide by my rules, take my orders, and convince me that you can handle this. But you should know that I won't make it easy for you."
This much she'd expected, but her resolve was solid.
She couldn't let him die; she had to do this to save him.
He couldn't doubt her.
"I know what I signed up for, Damon, and I'm all in."
He studied her face, as if making sure he believed her, then his hand lifted, briefly touching her cheek, "Then I'm sorry."
He backed away, and all traces of her lover was gone.
In his place was the leader of the Dark.
"Enough!"
The room fell still at his command, and Elena's breathing quickened.
"I know many of you have wondered at my decision to allow an Arc into our home." Eyes glanced in Elena's direction, but she kept hers on Damon.
Whatever he was doing, she felt as if this would be her first test.
"I understand your concerns. But Elena has come alone, of her own choosing," now his eyes found hers, "To join us in our fight."
Hushed whispers broke out with this revelation.
Damon remained cold, "To question this decision is to question my judgment, which will not be tolerated. However, if it puts you at ease, let me prove her an asset."
He turned, facing her, "Elena, come here."
She obeyed without thought, placing her full trust in the fact that Damon wouldn't let her be killed.
"Clear the floor," he commanded to the others, "And take instruction."
The Darklings parted, falling back against the walls so that a ring was formed around the two of them.
Damon circled her, and it suddenly clicked in her mind that she was about to fight him.
"Damon-" she started, but he shot her a look that stopped her words.
"Convince me," he demanded, then he moved.
Like lightning, his power surged, a blue jolt of energy catching her side, and knocking her off her feet.
Her wings clenched against her back, wanting to escape, to help her defend herself, but she knew that that wasn't the purpose of this fight.
This wasn't about convincing Damon at all...it was about convincing the others.
Another energy blast flew towards her, but she rolled away, just in time, leaving the Darklings behind her scattering to avoid being hit.
Jumping back to her feet, she summoned her own power, but felt drained with the energy it took to shoot a white stream of fire in Damon's direction.
He avoided this easily, as a flick of his wrist sent her flying through the air again.
She landed hard, her breath being knocked out of her.
But despite that, she pulled herself up again, deciding to use her body, instead of her power.
Like a bullet, she flew at Damon, the unexpected force taking him to the ground before he could react.
But as she landed on him, he turned her, so that she ended up beneath him.
Adrenaline washed out everything else, and with all her strength, she lifted enough to free her leg, and threw it over his shoulder, using the leverage to spin him off of her, and scrambled to her feet.
Damon had found his legs again as well, and a hand reached over his shoulder, down his back.
When it appeared again, he had a dagger in his palm.
She froze.
This wasn't exactly what she'd been expecting.
But there was no time to think, as he lunged forward, the weapon practically invisible as he moved.
She ducked as his arm swung out, uppercutting to his rib.
His free hand caught her though, as she tried to escape the dagger, and span her into him, so that her back was against his chest, and the dagger was on her throat.
She stopped struggling, accepting defeat, and cheers filled the room.
Whatever point Damon had been trying to make had apparently gotten across.
Either that, or something else was getting the Darklings excited.
She realized it was the latter, when Damon nodded towards Enzo, and he stepped forward, grabbing her.
Then the harsh top of the suit Damon had left for her to wear was being pulled from her body.
"Hey! What are you-"
A hard fabric was slipped between her lips, and tied at the back of her head, muffling her sentence.
Panic set in now, as she felt her arms lifted above her head, and attached to something metal.
"Shh," Damon's voice was in her ear now, "This has to happen. Don't fight it."
It took all of her will power to obey him, especially as she was now only in a bra and tight pants.
She looked up, and realized her hands were bound by chains that connected to the ceiling, operating on some sort of pulley system.
They held her up now, as the chains were pulled tight, and she felt her arms twist in an unnatural angle.
Not painful, but not comfortable either.
Damon spoke again.
"The last of her Arc power resides in her blood. Without a source of strength to draw from, it will not be replenishable. You have nothing to fear from her, but her combat skills will prove useful..."
And with that, he turned, dagger in hand, and brought the blade against her bare stomach.
Elena's scream was muffled by the gag in her mouth, which she now realized was a grip for her to bite down on.
Damon cut her again, her arm this time, and she glared at him through the pain.
He could have given her a warning that this was part of the initiation.
Another slice of the blade, down her shoulder.
Her eyes squeezed shut, and she fought back tears.
A room full of Darklings was waiting for her to show weakness, and to hell if she was going to allow them that satisfaction.
Time seemed to stop as she battled within herself, pain after slice of pain forcing cries from her lips, and her teeth were sore from being clamped down.
But she had to hold on.
Two more stabs, one to each wrist, and it was over.
She hung her head, dizzy, and noticed the pool of blood at her feet, the red a striking difference against the white floor.
Damon was speaking, and the chains holding her were released.
She crumbled, and hit the floor, landing in the blood.
So much blood.
Red was all she could see.
Then it faded to black.
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