author's notes: update time! this one wrote itself out sooner than i thought it would, and i had an absolute blast writing it. thanks so much for all your kind words and comments on the last chapter. i hope you enjoy the new one and i hope it's not too confusing.
characters: Sheriff Forbes, Amelia (OC), Stefan/Elena, Damon, Caroline, mention of Matt, Jenna, Alaric
setting: AU from 1x14 - Fool Me Once onward
disclaimer: fic•tion [fíksh'n]: literary works of imagination
MALUM DISCORDIAE;;
chapter two
The scene is a ghastly dark one. A full moon is set starkly against a black sky completely devoid of stars, bathing everything in a strange pale light. The body of a young woman lies torn open by the side of the road, discarded there as if garbage. There are deep bite marks dripping with coagulating blood on her neck, her stomach and her upper leg. Her eyes are open, staring out into infinity in white-hot fear.
Sheriff Forbes crouches down by the body, a handkerchief covering her mouth and nose to ward off the smell, and looks down at the dead woman in front of her. The girl looks like she's been gnawed at by animals, but the sheriff knows better. It's vampires that did this. It's demons that did this. Such a shame. Such an outrage. The Founder's Council thought they'd dealt with this.
"Sheriff! Over here!" one of her deputies shouts. She gets up and meets him a few yards further, deeper into the woods. He's staring down at the ground. There's a dark-stained pool of blood colouring the leaves when his flashlight illuminates the scene, the rest of it soaked into the wet soil. "Looks like we've got another one." His flashlight follows a sweeping pattern that leads into the woods.
"They took a body with them?" the sheriff asks, brow set in a deep frown. Why on earth would vampires take a human with them? As far as she knows that's never happened before. She fears what this could mean, she fears what the multiple bite marks on the body could mean. "Find out who it is," the sheriff orders, "and who she is," she points back at the body, and retraces her steps back to her car. She's suddenly hit by the strange urge to call her daughter, just to know where she is.
"And uhm, be on the look-out for anybody new in town," she adds.
"So basically," Amelia tells Elena, coming to a standstill by a high table lining one of the walls at the Mystic Grill bar. "I'm the reason you're in this whole vampire mess." Stefan and Elena join her on the other side of the table, standing close together in the crowded bar. Amelia knows neither Stefan nor Damon blame her for turning him, but sometimes she blames herself.
"It's all your fault," Stefan nods, taking a sip from his coffee. He doesn't mean what he says; he's never wished Amelia hadn't turned Damon, not even in his – or his brother's – darkest hours. Across the room, he can see Damon ordering drinks at the bar.
Elena slaps Stefan's shoulder lovingly. "Don't say that," she says, and looks at Amelia. She can't believe they're all out of the house. Elena can't help but wonder what sort of magic Amelia has worked on Damon. He seemed completely himself again, personality and all. It must have been that woman's touch, or something like it. "You're the reason Stefan and I met." Elena hooks her arm in Stefan's.
"Elena, you're too sweet." Even though she's never met Katherine, Amelia knows she has nothing on Elena. Stefan and her seem perfect for each other. She's never been happier for him; she'd always feared he would never give love a chance again. Apparently she was mistaken.
The door to the bar opens; it passes by unnoticed to most people there, because they're all wrapped up in the intricacies of their own lives, but Amelia picks up every scent and every sound that gets added to the mix. When she glances towards the door over Stefan's shoulder, it's a female officer in uniform whose eyes she meets. "419 off the highway, code V. All officers be on the look-out for strangers in town," sounds from the walkie-talkie attached to her shoulder.
"Uh-oh," Amelia says, mostly to herself, but averts her eyes when she sees the sheriff make her way towards their table. She runs a hand through her hair casually, turning her head. "Damon, get over here," she calls, so softly that no human could have heard it, but Damon catches it instantly. Amelia has this way of getting his attention.
"Excuse me," the sheriff says when she reaches the table. The redhead woman at the table smiles at her softly, but it doesn't earn her one back. Ever since that blonde vampire Damon staked to save her life she hasn't trusted any new faces, known or unknown by any of the people in Mystic Falls.
"Is there something wrong, Sheriff Forbes?" Stefan asks, the same controlled voice he always manages. He doesn't like the look he finds in the sheriff's eyes, she's got her guard up, and looks at Amelia like she's a suspect in a crime.
"Who's your friend?" Sheriff Forbes asks sturdily.
Amelia's eyes widen in mock-question, because she knows exactly what the sheriff is getting at. There's been another attack in town, and she trusts no new face. She can't blame the sheriff for being vigilant, but she's relieved to feel Damon approaching.
"And here we are," Damon interrupts the conversation before anyone can answer the sheriff's question. He puts two beers on the table that he'd snatched randomly off the bar; he hadn't had the time to wait for their own drinks. "Sheriff," he nods briefly, and throws an arm around Amelia, pulling her closer to him.
"Beer?" Amelia asks, and stares at the two tall glasses on the table, her eyes wide in question. "I don't do beer. You know it's not good for my skin." She quirks her mouth, and twirls her hair around her fingers. She looks at Damon from under her brow, and pouts. Damon smiles at her; he does like this game. They've played it enough times before.
"Got it. Beer bad," Damon says. Amelia has all the trouble in the world to keep a straight face. Damon is enjoying this far too much. "How about some fries instead?" he asks seriously, and Amelia only smiles in answer. "You guys want anything?" Damon finally looks at Stefan and Elena.
Elena is at a total loss for words. She knows that it's probably all an act, but it's so difficult to see where it starts and where it ends; it's seamlessly construed. Amelia just went from being an ages-old vampire, to a college co-ed who only cares about skin products. "We could do with some fries too." Stefan nods, and looks at Elena in question, whose jaw has gone slack in surprise.
She frowns, looks at Stefan, then back at Damon, and nods. "Yeah, fries."
Damon moves away from the table again, towards the bar. Amelia grabs his hand. "Hang on, baby, I'll help you," she says, and follows him to the bar like a faithful puppy. Game, set and match.
Sheriff Forbes is left staring after them. Kids these days, she thinks, always in a hurry. She turns to Stefan for answers. "Amelia is visiting from out of town," Stefan explains. "Damon and her are— complicated." His eyes narrow in thought, because he really thinks there should be a better word for what exactly Damon and Amelia are. "Is something wrong?" he asks.
At the bar, Amelia and Damon hear Sheriff Forbes answering "No, just curious," before leaving Elena and Stefan alone.
"There's been more attacks," Amelia says, voice low enough not to be picked up by any curious bystanders, and leans her body up against the bar, one arm resting on top, mirroring Damon's posture in front of her.
"Two burgers with fries, and two scotches," Damon orders their drinks and food, picking at a little bowl of peanuts on top of the bar. His stomach growls and his veins hunger for something else entirely. He needs some human blood and he needs it now. It's only then that Amelia's words sink in. "How do you—?" he asks.
Amelia circles her index finger around in the air. "Police scanners," she answers, and grabs some peanuts herself. "For a town this small, it attracts way too many vampires." She can understand why Stefan and Damon come back here every few decades, but why would other vampires take the risk of settling down here? "It's not normal." Back in her own hunting days, when the hunt still held some fun for her, she swept through these small towns quickly, afraid to be detected. It's the larger ones that hold her preference. For her kind, anonymity tends to be key.
"For a town this small, it knows entirely too much about us," Damon corrects, and looks at Amelia. She's wearing an extremely enticing outfit tonight. Her dark red hair – that's a shade of the likes he hasn't seen anywhere else– is loosened in long wavy streaks, covering up that part of her tattoo that peeks from the top at the back, but her cleavage leaves little to the imagination. "And about killing us." His eyes find hers again.
"She has a thing for you, you know," Amelia says. Damon frowns. "The sheriff." Damon snorts and shakes his head. "It's true. Probably because you so gallantly saved her from that vampire." Amelia watches how the sheriff makes her way from one side of the bar to the other. "I must say, I don't approve of you killing your brother's friends, but you sure got her wrapped neatly around your finger."
Damon follows Amelia's gaze across the room, and frowns again, a pained expression colouring his features. That is one mental image he could have done without. "Eww," comes his short reply, before he turns towards the bar again. "Why can't we go out and hunt something?" he sighs, the mere thought setting his veins ablaze. "Please?" he pouts down at Amelia.
Amelia stares at him, a sly smile sliding across her lips slowly. Damon finds few more words to say when Amelia closes the short distance between them, her hips swaying seductively. She settles her body against his, one hand moving to his face, the other around to his back. Her sylvan scent penetrates through him and envelops him at the same time, a thick haze forming around him as the rest of the room dulls into white noise.
Amelia kisses him softly on the lips, once, hand sliding up in his hair. She hardly ever uses her compulsion on vampires, simply because some thrill of the chase still appeals to her. But right now keeping a low profile is far more important than stilling Damon's hunger for human blood. "Dance with me," she whispers, the compulsion sinking in somewhere deep near Damon's heart. It pulls at him strong and hard, beckoning him towards the dance floor.
It's then that Stefan swoops in and collects their orders.
"Have Amelia and Damon ever—" Elena asks once Stefan returns from the bar. Amelia had pulled Damon to the dance floor, and right now they seemed completely preoccupied by each other. Or each other's body, depending on one's angle.
"I don't know," Stefan answers, and follows Elena's gaze towards the dance floor. Admittedly, the way they were acting around each other at this very moment left little else to the imagination. Damon's hands are all over Amelia's body. But he knows it isn't always like that between the two of them. Right now, they're just acting. "They've always had a— bond." He frowns, once again finding the word falling short of properly describing Damon and Amelia.
"Must be some bond," Elena deadpans, and averts her gaze just in time to miss Damon's tongue drawing a wet path down Amelia's neck. "Have you and Amelia ever—" Elena's voice trails off. The words are out before she has a chance to mould them into another question. Does she really want to know the answer?
"No," Stefan shakes his head, and he's never once considered it either. He supposes he can't blame Elena for asking, but she must know she's the only one for him.
"Who's she?" Caroline's voice sounds from behind them suddenly, and they both turn towards her. Caroline is eyeing the happy couple on the dance floor.
"Damon's college sweetheart," Elena says, the lie out of her mouth so easily that she's surprised to hear it. Maybe she's finally getting the hang of all this secrecy.
"Damon went to college?" Caroline frowns to herself. "Scratch that, I don't want to know. Have you guys seen Matt?" her eyes go wide, and a smile appears on her lips. She only really wants to see Matt.
"Behind the bar," Stefan answers. Caroline looks towards the bar, her boyfriend barely visible through the people crowding it. She's off without a word. "That doesn't bother you?" Stefan asks, returning his attention to Elena. "Matt and Caroline?" He knows that once upon a time, before he'd showed up, Matt and Elena were pretty close.
"Why would it?" Elena shrugs, picking at her basket of fries. She looks towards the bar, seeing Caroline lean across it to reach for Matt's lips. "He's happy, and she seems to really care about him. Besides," she adds, smiling broadly, "I have you now." Her eyes once again catch sight of Amelia and Damon. Stefan might have told her he and Amelia never slept together, but the ease with which they act around each other pointed at a deeper relationship. "That doesn't bother you?" Elena asks. "Damon and Amelia?"
Stefan looks at them once, and smiles to himself before returning his unconditional attention to Elena. "Not at all," he says. "Don't get me wrong. I love her." The admission comes as certain as his love for Elena. "She was there for us from the start, and taught me everything I know about being a vampire. More importantly, she accepted my choices." Something his brother never did. "But I've never seen her as anything more than a mentor."
#
Alaric and her are in the middle of a very interesting conversation about what the best Van Damme movie is when Jenna pushes the door to the bar open. The heat of the crowd hits her belatedly; she didn't know there was anything going on at the bar tonight. "Oh dear," Jenna says, and turns back to Alaric, half-way through the door already. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."
"Nonsense," Alaric shakes his head. He immediately catches eye of Damon and an unidentified woman on the dance floor. The thought of this becoming Damon's next kill grounds him immediately. He's not going anywhere. "Look, there's Elena and Stefan." He points towards the right of the room. "Let's go say hi, and then we'll see."
He follows Jenna towards her niece and Stefan. "Hiya kids!" Jenna exclaims, and joins Stefan and Elena at their table. "Having fun? Or are you leaving that up to Damon?" She nods her head towards the dance floor, Damon and Amelia pushing their way through the crowd back towards the table.
When they reach the table, Alaric notices immediately that Amelia doesn't need to catch her breath.
"Amelia, this is my Aunt Jenna, and my history teacher Mr Saltzman," Elena introduces them.
"Am I meeting the whole town tonight?" Amelia laughs, and shakes Jenna's and Alaric's hand. "It's nice to meet you," she adds, before Damon wraps his arms around her from behind, holding her close to him. He buries his nose in her hair.
"That's a very interesting necklace you're wearing," Alaric says, trying to disregard the way Damon is all over Amelia. If she's a vampire like him, this might be someone Damon actually cares about. He notices the heavy silver pendant finishing Amelia's necklace in his attempt to seem casual. He has some experience in placing these things in the right time period. "Seventeenth century?" he guesses.
Both Elena and Stefan look at Amelia, and Damon's curiosity is peeked as well.
"Give or take," Amelia smiles softly, not mentioning to anyone that it is in fact several centuries older than that. It wasn't originally meant to be a pendant at all; she had that feature added two hundred years ago by a very nice jewellery salesman. Her husband had given it to her as a wedding gift; it was the brooch that had held together her wedding garment. "It's a family heirloom."
Alaric nods, but doesn't take his eyes off her for long moments. He knows, Amelia thinks, because he's looking at her too casually, too self-assured and yet astoundingly cautious. She'll have to ask Stefan or Damon about it sometime.
"We'll leave you kids to your fun," Jenna cuts through the uncomfortable silence that has fallen over the table. She doesn't know why, but something tells her that Alaric doesn't like Stefan or Damon very much, "and your fries." Jenna looks down at the food on the table, and as if the words pushed some kind of button, Damon lets go of Amelia, and attacks his burger.
"So are there more vampires in town?" Elena asks after her aunt and Alaric have left their table. She shivers involuntarily at the thought of more vampires, more fear, more danger. Stefan pulls her closer to him, rubbing her back soothingly.
"Well, I think we can safely say it wasn't me this time," Damon says between bites, and still manages to swallow down his scotch too.
"Should we—" Elena starts. She'll be the last person to argue that they should become vigilantes and protect the town, but who else knows how to properly spot a vampire? Something tells her with Amelia here now, that task would become considerably easier.
"We?" Damon asks, grabbing Amelia's scotch as well. "Elena, in this context, there is no we, as in you and us." Amelia and Stefan look at him curiously. Damon's definitely back. "There's just us, and it's none of our business," he shrugs.
"Actually, I would rather think it is," Amelia intercedes, more to aggravate Damon than anything else. "Elena could get hurt, or someone she cares about. It's as much her town as it is yours."
"Yeah, but..." Damon says, a burp getting in the way of his argument.
"Tell the sheriff you have more vervain," Amelia says, the command laced in her voice almost imperceptible. Stefan had filled her in earlier about Damon's relations with the sheriff, which were most convenient if you were the very thing she was hunting. "We should find out what we can."
"Sure thing, Veronica Mars." Damon straightens his shoulders. "Since when did you start caring?" He's known Amelia long enough to know that most of her enthusiasm for the hunt has wavered, but he's never known her to go out of her way to kill other vampires either, or to help out humans.
Amelia has to admit Damon makes a valid point. Once upon a time she got her blood the same way Damon gets his now. Still, this town's too small for the deaths to pass by as unnoticed as in big metropolitan cities. "Since your brother started dating Elena," Amelia answers, and both Stefan and Elena look at her. "It wouldn't be very motherly of me if I just discarded the problem at hand." Since she's here, she might as well help out.
"Can't we just go out for one bite?" Damon complains like a six-year old when Amelia doesn't release his hand. She's almost forced to drag Damon back into the house. Amelia knows he could have forced her already, but Damon realises all too well he's still weak, and she's stronger than him either way. Maybe he's avoiding any unnecessary pain.
In the distance, Stefan opens the door to the house, Elena following him inside. Damon pulls at Amelia's arm one time, forcing her to stop and look at him. "One bite," he begs, blue eyes crazy with hunger, and he closes the distance between their bodies again. "Stefan doesn't even need to know," he whispers.
Amelia sighs, but Damon's theatrics amuse her. "I have blood in my bags upstairs."
Damon releases a sigh as well. "Well, you're no fun." He rolls his eyes melodramatically, and saunters towards the house, pulling Amelia along with him. But he's pretty determined to get what he wants. They make it into the house, Damon slamming the door shut with Amelia's body pinned between his and the wood, groin settling against hers.
"This sure puts things in a new perspective," Amelia teases, wriggling her hips against Damon's. She knows how to play this game too. "You do know this won't convince me to take you out, right?" she asks, while Damon sweeps her hair aside.
"I'm counting on it," Damon breaths, and his eyes go black suddenly, his fangs sliding out, the veins around his eyes darkening. He leans in and caresses the tip of his nose down Amelia's neck, ready to sink his teeth in her skin. But he feels weaker than he should.
"Amelia?" Elena's voice trembles through the house. She's halfway down the stairs when she halts in her tracks; it's only then that she sees the position Amelia and Damon are in. She'd apologize, but Damon moves away from Amelia as soon as she speaks, almost as if her intrusion gives him the excuse to move. "Do vampires get sick?" Elena asks carefully.
"No," Amelia laughs, and takes a few steps closer to the staircase. When she sees the look of fright on Elena's face she feels her smile faltering. "Why, what's wrong?" she frowns.
"Stefan doesn't look so hot," Elena says, brushing her hair back behind her ears. "And he says he feels queasy."
Amelia frowns to herself. Is this a joke? Is Stefan playing her? It's not exactly Stefan's style, and Elena's concern seems genuine. She runs upstairs, Elena following her back inside the room. Stefan is sitting up on his bed, face buried in his hands. Amelia walks over to him, Stefan raises his head, and Amelia places a hand on his forehead. She's instantly aware that something's wrong. "Oh God, you're burning up," she says, going to her knees in front of him. "Stefan, you're shaking." It's almost as if he has a fever. But things like this aren't possible. Not for them. "What happened?" Amelia looks up at Elena.
"I don't know," Elena shakes her head. Amelia's sudden fearful eyes do nothing to steady her nerves. "One minute he's fine, and the next he's on the floor."
Stefan groans loudly, the sound of Amelia's and Elena's voice sending waves of pain to his head. It's only aggravated by the fact that it's the first time in a hundred and forty-five years he's actually experienced a headache.
Amelia's hand moves to Stefan's shoulder; it's when Stefan shifts slightly that she notices something on his skin. "How long has he had this rash?" she asks, pulling Stefan's shirt out of the way to reveal the irritated skin breaking out across his collarbone.
"Rash?" Elena frowns and comes closer to take a look. "That wasn't there before." She shakes her head, and sits down by Stefan's side. The thought that whatever Stefan has could be contagious only touches her mind briefly; she's much too worried to think about anything else.
Suddenly, there's a thud in the hallway, as if something hitting the floor. "Damon?" Amelia calls out, but is on her feet without waiting for an answer. "Damon!" she calls out when she sees him lying passed out on the hallway floor. She kneels down beside him and turns him over, but he's unconscious. "Damon," she shakes him softly, but Damon gives no reaction. Something catches her eye when it peeks from Damon's shirt. She moves the fabric aside to get a closer look. "Oh my God," she exclaims.
Right underneath her fingertips there's a rash on Damon's skin.
The same one she just found on Stefan.
if you can, please let me know what you think!