Chapter Fifteen
Clink.
Elena takes a giant step back as Caroline advances on her, swinging her fencing foil wildly at Elena's in a manner that is certainly not a proper lunge. Trying to salvage her move, Elena attempts to parry the blow but winds up taking a wild swing herself.
From behind, the peals of a familiar laugh confront her.
"Shut up, Damon!" Caroline glowers, taking another step forward. This time she tries to make a sudden lunge at Elena's arm.
"You have absolutely no finesse to speak of, do you Barbie?" Damon taunts.
Elena takes advantage of her distraction and makes her own an attempt at a lunge but Caroline's quick reflexes are too much for her and she easily parries the blow.
"I have tons of finesse!" Caroline growls in protest. "This is just a stupid sport!" She reinforces her opinion with a particularly violent stab to Elena's protective fencing Kevlar.
"Watch it," Elena winces. "I've got this whole mortality thing."
"Yeah, you've also got this really annoying boyfriend thing," Caroline mutters. She advances again, this time moving the foil in a wide semi-circle; it hits Elena lightly on the shoulder. "That's a point right?" Caroline pauses, unsure.
"How would I know?" Elena grumbles lamely. "Can we just call it? We both suck."
"Fine." Caroline pulls her protective mask off gratefully, causing her blond curls to tumble out. "That was a waste of time. Learning to subtly manoeuvre against an enemy, my ass."
"That's 'cause you're swinging that thing around like some kind of Barbie fly swatter," Damon chides. "Where did Buffy go? Isn't she supposed to be helping you?"
Elena shrugs, taking off her own mask and reaching for her water bottle. "She had to take a phone call; she said to practice on our own till she comes back."
Damon turns to Caroline. "Mind if I try?" he asks, holding out his hand for her foil.
Caroline complies, placing it into his open palm with a soft slap. "If you're such an expert, have at it."
Damon grins. "Southern gentleman, remember? What do you think they made me do in boarding school?"
"You went to boarding school?" Caroline remarks with a quirked eyebrow.
Damon warms up his wrist with a few experimental whips of his foil. "If you wanna get technical about it, I got kicked out of boarding school."
Caroline's eyes widen with mirth. "Let me guess, you got caught with the headmaster's daughter?"
"Nope," Damon replies popping the p. He makes no motion to elaborate but instead turns to Elena. "Pull out all the stops. First one to mimic a fatal injury?"
Elena pulls her mask back down and brings her foil up against his with a sharp clang. "You're on."
Damon immediately feints left, switching quickly to the other side when Elena tries to evade his blow. "Buffy probably wanted you to do this so you could learn how to move without giving away what you're about to do to your opponent," he explains, whirling the blade lazily to fend off Elena's forward attack. "You always want to distract your opponent from your real intent. Don't look directly at your intended target area. And don't roll your whole shoulder when you're about to move." His eyes go serious behind his playful instructions. "Even though you're human, think like a predator."
Elena steps back, sizing him up for a second, then steps forward, coming at him with her blade angled; when he steps to the side, she quickly brings it up, landing a soft blow to his shoulder.
"Ha!" she teases.
Damon doubles his efforts, dropping his eyes slightly and giving her a flirty half grin. He takes a step closer lowering his foil slightly. "Elena," he draws her name out huskily.
She raises her foil, moving her feet to lunge forward, but Damon—now significantly closer—moves his foot just enough to the left to hook it around her ankle. Instead of going flying backwards, he catches her and she finds herself pinned against him, her back to his chest.
Elena stills for a moment, assessing her situation. His right arm hooks around her waist, a hand trailing slowly up her torso towards her heart while his left trails down her arm towards the hand she still clutches the foil in.
Think like a predator.
Elena acts on instinct, playing to the habits he'll expect from her position; she allows her breath to audibly catch with desire. Just before his hand reaches her heart, she snaps to attention and brings up her foil once again, tilting her head to the side so she holds it against his neck.
"Nice try," she whispers manoeuvring herself around so faces him, foil still held to his neck. "But I've been practicing."
Across the room, Caroline keels over laughing at the surprise on Damon's face.
"Well played, Elena," Buffy's voice calls from the doorway. Elena lowers her foil and turns around to greet her.
"Agreed," Damon murmurs in her ear, he sling an arm around her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. Elena meets his hand with her free one, interlacing their fingers.
"You know," Buffy strolls further into the room, her footsteps clinking from the heel on her boots. "I tell people to use everything they can in a fight, but I can't say I've ever stressed using sex appeal. Maybe I should rethink that."
Damon smirks and takes a small bow. "My work here is done."
Buffy's grin falters with regret, her brown eyes suddenly clouded with a sombre expression. "Actually, I have something to tell you. I just got off the phone with Spike."
"Good news?" Caroline inquires, her voice rising hopefully.
Buffy brushes a lock of her hair away, gearing up to deliver her news. "In a sense. He stalked a few vampires leaving the fortress last night and managed to capture one of them. We're trying to get information out of him now."
Elena leans forward, anxious for more news. "Is my brother there?" she asks fretfully. Damon squeezes her hand gently, pulling her closer to him.
"We think so," Buffy replies, swallowing grimly. "The vampire has been compelled; we're still working on him. From what Spike and the Slayers have observed though. There are around fifteen hybrids. Klaus wasn't there last night but he's definitely been there within the last few days." Buffy tosses Damon a small purple booklet that he flips open curiously. "Here's your passport. We need to leave first thing in the morning." She looks from Damon to Elena. "I'm sorry."
They stand in silence for a moment, her apology hanging in the air, sincere, but also authoritative until Damon finally glances at his doctored up passport. "Fernando Raphael Mariano?" He shuts the passport, making a face, and shoves it roughly into his back pocket. "Seriously, do I look like a Fernando?"
Caroline snickers. "There was something in the air that night..." she sings quietly under her breath.
"Oh you wanna go, Sweet Caroline?" Damon counters.
Caroline shoots him an icy glare.
"Wow do you guys have some awful taste in music or what," Buffy injects with a grin.
Damon arches an eyebrow sceptically. "Yeah well what kind of person picked the name Fernando anyways?"
"We had to procure fake identities for all of you," Buffy explains. "None of you have actual passports and even if you did, Klaus has flagged your identities with Interpol. And," she adds. "I didn't pick any of them. They're just old passports we were able to doctor up."
Caroline shifts, trepidation fleeting across her face. "We're really going underground then, aren't we?"
"As much as possible," Buffy answers. "Yours and Elena's should be arriving soon. Damon, I want to leave first thing in the morning."
Damon sighs heavily. "I should probably go pack." He looks to Elena, his fingers brushing her shoulder, eyes lowered suggestively. "Want to come help?"
She bumps her hip affectionately against his. "Sure." She turns to Buffy, "Unless you guys need some help with the fencing equipment?"
"I think we've got it, Elena." Buffy gently takes her foil. "Have fun packing," she teases, trying to break the tension.
Elena smiles, grateful for her efforts. She winds her arm around Damon's waist. "Oh we will," she teases back with a wink.
"Elena." Elena stirs slightly; not quite awake yet, she buries herself further into her pillow. "Elena," Damon takes her shoulder, gently forcing her to turn over. "I have to go now, cara mia."
Elena's eyes blink open to a mostly dark room, illuminated only by the small crack of lightly spilling from the hallway. In this light his face is half shadowed, all dark angles with bright, gentle eyes. He kneels next to the bed, fully dressed in jeans, a sweater, and a Carhartt jacket borrowed from Xander.
Elena smiles at him sleepily. "Come here," she murmurs, fisting her hands into the soft cashmere of his sweater to pull him closer. He rests his head next to hers on the pillow for a moment, winding his hands into her hair.
"Promise me you won't do something stupid like throw yourself in front of a bullet bound for Faith," he tells her tenderly.
"Damon," she breathes with a small sigh of exasperation.
"Promise?" He urges, his eyes boring into hers.
A small smile flits over her features. "Fine. I promise I'll be careful. Happy?"
He strokes her hair lightly. "No." He shuffles for a second, pulling his daylight ring off his index finger. "I want you to take this. In case you get into any trouble." He slides the ring onto her thumb. "It might help you, it might not, but people know this ring." He kisses her knuckle softly. "Keep it, just in case."
Elena stares at the heavy ring on her thumb with dark eyes. He has worn this ring for one hundred and forty five years, but he's willing to part with it for her. "I'll keep it safe for you."
He slides the pad of his thumb over her palm. "Just keep yourself safe, okay?"
Shifting slightly, she moves so she can bring her hand up to cup his neck. "I hate this too, you know. But it's the right thing."
Damon shakes his head. "It's not the right thing, it's just the safest thing. I'm only doing this because it's the safest option for you, Elena. If we travel together I'd be a distraction from keeping you protected." He shudders slightly. "A liability."
"Not to me. Never to me." She cups his face, stroking it lightly with her thumb. "Please be careful." His eyes flutter closed at her gentle touch. "Remember I love you." Elena kisses his forehead lightly. "I choose you," she murmurs, kissing his cheek. "And I'm proud of you." She catches his lips with her own, holding him close to her as long as she can before letting him go.
Elena leans her forehead against the cool window as the train pulls away from Edinburgh. It's been three days since Damon left for Italy, Caroline and Katherine not far behind him. Finally though, Buffy declared their situation solid enough to risk Elena's departure from the compound.
In the seat next to her, Faith fidgets, agitated by the confined space of the train car. Crossing and uncrossing her legs she keeps peering around Elena to see out the window into the rainy highlands. Directly across from Faith, Elijah sits stiffly, his head buried in a newspaper.
"God, I hate trains," Faith mutters, stretching her legs out into the aisle. The woman across from them glares at her for her breech of decorum but Faith fixes her with a stare that makes her turn away quickly.
"Why didn't we just take the jet?" Elena asks, her eyes absently fixed on a piece of rubber peeling off the edge of Faith's heavily worn Doc Martens.
Elijah lowers his paper slightly, his dark eyes peering at her over the top. "There isn't a runway in Italy we felt we could land on without tipping off Klaus. Buffy and I discussed flying you into Switzerland and taking a train from there, but in the end we decided it was safer if we take a series of trains."
"There are lots of witnesses on trains," Faith explains. "If someone tries to tail us, it would be harder for them to act if we move on crowded trains through large cities."
"It will take us a few days rather than a few hours," Elijah adds. "But in the end this is the safest option. We'll stay the night in London and continue onwards from there."
Elena opens her mouth to ask more questions, but Elijah has buried himself back in his paper. Faith motions her head to the people across the aisle, indicating not to ask any more questions about their travel arrangements here.
Bored, Elena flips through the passport resting in her lap. Her own face stares back at her but the person on her documents is a stranger. Evelyn Casey O'Riley, born in Toronto, Canada on the 19th of November, 1991.
Does this girl still exist? She wonders. Or is she dead, leaving this last scrap of her identity to be absorbed as a piece of someone else's salvation.
Shuddering at the thought, Elena flips the passport closed, determined to keep her mind on less depressing thoughts.
"Have you ever been to Europe before?" Faith asks from the seat next to her, polishing off a large sandwich from the refreshment car. Across from her, Elijah has put his paper aside to casually sip from a dark coloured thermos.
"Just this trip mostly," Elena replies, plucking a chip from the crumpled cellophane bag resting on her lap. "To be honest, I've never really been much of anywhere; my parents didn't like leaving Virginia much." She wonders, as she wipes the salt from her fingers onto a napkin, if perhaps the risk of exposing their daughter as the doppelganger was a factor.
Elena crumples her napkin tightly in her fist, ebbing away her frustration. "What about you? Where are you from?"
"Everywhere," Faith replies wistfully. She crumples her sandwich wrappings into a ball and throws them towards the trash bag situated a few rows down. Elena watches, missing her former vampire reflexes for a moment, as it makes a slow arch and lands with a soft plop into the bag.
"I believe I detect a trace of Boston in your accent," Elijah remarks coolly. "Southie, perhaps?"
Faith shifts uncomfortably, her eyes narrowed. "What, are you stalking me now?"
"Just an observation," Elijah states lightly, he takes a sip of his drink, holding Faith's gaze.
"Observe someone else then," Faith spits back, her hooded eyes darting away from him, almost panicked.
Elijah just raises an eyebrow, his gaze still steadily locked on Faith. "You don't like to talk about yourself, do you?"
Faith stiffens; her wish to not reveal personal details is something Elena has noticed as well. It strikes her as an odd contrast to Buffy who has been relatively open with her since their first meeting just a week ago.
Faith shifts in her seat again, glaring at him with crossed arms. "Brilliant observation," she cuts sarcastically.
Elijah chuckles. "I apologise for making you uncomfortable. It's a habit of mine, observing people. Most of them are far easier to read than they think."
Faith snorts. "Yeah because you can get into their heads."
Elijah regards her for a moment, an amused smile playing at his lips. "I couldn't get into your head if I wanted to. Slayers are resistant to that kind of manipulation. But that doesn't mean I can't make a few conclusions about you, based on my observations."
Faith scowls. "That doesn't mean you know me."
"You're quite right. I don't know you at all," Elijah surmises. He sits back quietly in his seat, effectively ending the conversation; his mouth however, twists with words left unsaid.
Faith rolls her eyes, picking absently at a fraying patch in the knee of her jeans, one that Caroline would consider a faux pas for someone clearly in their thirties. Faith doesn't appear to be one overly concerned with fashion though; other than her red leather jacket, her clothes all look quite worn.
Elena glances awkwardly at Elijah. While he doesn't seem to be at all ruffled by Faith's attitude towards him, Elena finds herself protective of her occasional friend.
"They're not all bad you know," she says quietly to Faith, even though she knows full well Elijah can hear her.
Faith looks at her questioningly.
"Vampires, I mean," Elena clarifies. "Elijah is one of the good ones."
"So I've been told," Faith replies, her chin set firmly as she glares at Elijah. "But I'm more of a see-it-to-believe-it kinda girl. Don't take it personal."
Elijah regards her calmly. "You know, I think you are the least aptly named person I have ever met." He flicks a piece of lint off the knee of his impeccable suit. "And I once knew a prostitute called Chastity," he adds as an afterthought. Elena raises her eyebrows, unable to imagine the most straight-laced vampire she knows associating with prostitutes.
Faith smirks slightly. "Nothing I haven't heard before."
"But true none the less," Elijah suggests. "If I remember correctly, the Book of Hebrews defines faith as 'being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see,' and you my dear, seem to suffer a great deal of irony in your sheer lack of it."
Faith pulls her full lips into a soft pout, letting out a half laugh. "What are you, some kind of vampire shrink?"
"No, I've merely found the infinity of the human mind to be an excellent cure for centuries of tedium. Humans are all frightfully similar and yet utterly unique at the same time; it's fascinating really."
Elena's brow furrows at this contradiction. "How's that?" she interjects.
Elijah gently screws shut the lid of his thermos. "Everyone is looking for something in their existence, no matter how brief it may be," he explains. "Some people even find what they're looking for; most of them don't even know what they're seeking. But everyone, everyone, has some kind of void they're trying to fill."
Her fingers close over the daylight ring she now wears in a chain around her neck, remembering the first conversation she ever had with Damon. "Don't most people want the same things?"
Elijah shakes his head. "Not necessarily. Lots of people want simple things: love, family…like my sister Rebekah. But some people have more complicated wants, sometimes even unobtainable ones, like Stefan." He clears his throat. "And then of course, there is Niklaus; in siring his hybrids, he thinks he is conquering the powerlessness he was made to feel as a child. It's not what he really wants though, not deep down. Nor, obviously, what he needs."
Elena leans forward, intrigued. "What does he want then?"
"Respect," Elijah says simply. "I am not trying to make excuses for my brother, God knows he has had centuries in which he could have grown into a better person when he did not. But from his earliest years, the only way respect was ever modelled to him was through power and brutality. I don't believe that he thinks there is any other way to go about gaining it."
"Yeah well, we all have our childhood traumas," Faith remarks bluntly. "Doing evil shit doesn't make it go away. Trust me."
"You're quite right Faith," Elijah replies with a nod in her direction. "And you would think that after centuries of making mistakes and doing the wrong thing my brother would've learned something. Not that long ago I hoped there was still a chance for him, that he might evolve into a better man but I'm afraid that just isn't to be. I love my brother and I always will but I have come to see that he is incapable of change." He brushes a piece of lint off his knee dismissively but Elena can see the pain behind his gesture.
"And that's why you're helping us?" Faith probes.
Elijah looks to Elena, his eyes gentle. "I hoped when I didn't let him die in the hybrid ritual that he might have sought another chance, tried to do the right thing. But he didn't and now I'm afraid I owe it to you, Elena— I owe it to the world to make things right."
Elijah watches her for a second with a rare, open gaze, his eyes searching for a glimpse of something in her she doesn't believe she possesses.
"Thank you for helping us," she says quietly with a pained smile.
INSERT BREAK
Darkness has fallen by the time the train screeches to its final halt at Kings Cross Station.
Elijah rises as soon as the train halts, effortlessly pulling their luggage from the storage rack behind their seats. "We'll want to avoid your face being spotted if at all possible," he explains quietly as other passengers begin to move about. "Klaus has managed to put you on the International Terrorism Watch List."
Elena stares at him with an open mouth, trying to comprehend the fact she is officially a wanted fugitive.
"Welcome to a life of crime," Faith elbows her teasingly, trying to break the tension. "Here." She pulls a red hat out of her strangely long, narrow suitcase. "Pull this down so it hides your face a little."
Elena pulls the hat down so it hides some of her face, receiving an approving nod from Elijah.
"I'll go first," he explains. "Elena, you'll stay with Faith and we'll meet in front of the station. Make sure I'm in sight at all times."
Elena nods in understanding as Elijah swiftly disembarks the train, leaving her with Faith.
Faith lets a few people out between themselves and Elijah before pushing Elena forward. "C'mon, Evie," she urges, using Elena's new identity with a grin.
The two women follow Elijah's tall figure across the platform and into the large, central area of the station. Elijah melds through the crowd seamlessly; if she wasn't explicitly supposed to be watching him, he would be easy to lose track of.
Faith lays a gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her forward through the crowd of people. Elena swallows, not realizing just how much she has missed such a motherly gesture. Glancing over her shoulder, she regards Faith for a moment; even though she is several inches taller, with their dark hair and eyes and their high cheekbones, Elena can see how passerby might mistake them for mother and daughter.
Faith guides them through the crowd of people towards where Elijah lingers near the doors, distracting Elena from the tension of the situation by going on about visiting the Tower of London in a thick, and in Elena's opinion, terrible, Southern accent.
When they reach the doors, and stumble out into the commotion of central London, Elijah gives a discreet nod and turns, hailing a sleek black cab. He speaks to the driver for a moment, Elena assumes to compel him, and opens the door gesturing that she and Faith should get in.
"Where are we going?" Elena asks, craning her neck to look out onto Euston Road where bright red busses streak by, spraying water from the recent rain in their wake.
"The Shard," Elijah replies simply, turning his attention to his phone.
Faith chokes back a laugh of disbelief. "We're staying at The Shard?"
Elena looks from one bodyguard to the other in confusion. "What? Is it like The Plaza or something?"
"Try the tallest building in Western Europe," Faith remarks, looking to Elijah with a glint of admiration. "I thought the hotel part wasn't opened yet."
Elijah smirks, pocketing his phone. "It isn't. Neither are the residences. But I've managed to purchase an apartment on the sixty-fifth floor."
Faith leans back in her seat, shaking her head with disbelief. "Man, you vamps sure know how to invest huh?"
"Yes Faith, we vamps sure do," Elijah replies with a lilt of humour in his voice.
Elena settles into her seat, enjoying the view of London as the cab makes its way across the river, finally coming to a stop in front of a massive, triangular shaped glass building. She stops for a moment to admire the beauty of the lights reflecting off of it before Elijah ushers them out of the chilly April air and into the building.
In the gilded elevator, Elijah inserts a strange looking key into a slot below the button marked 65 and presses it down. Less than two minutes later, the elevator dings and the doors open to reveal a stunning foyer. Elena's mouth opens in admiration as she steps inside, her boots clinking on the marble floors. On the walls, a series of modern art paintings hang, their white canvases popping against the turquoise paint.
"The sitting room is this way," Elijah explains, leading them into a spacious living space. Faith and Elena both catch their breath in awe at the view of London revealed in floor to ceiling the glass windows that cover almost the entire room.
"Wow," Faith finally utters, dropping her bag unto the plush carpet. "That is some view."
Elena walks all the way to the edge of the room and peers out to admire all of London laid before her. Below her, tiny coloured dots of light move about, crossing the bridges, navigating the winding streets. "It's beautiful," she murmurs under her breath.
"It is indeed," Elijah remarks from behind her, loosening his tie. Elena has never seen him so clearly at ease. She notes the comfortable plush furniture and the sleek wooden shelves lining the opposite wall, all filled with gleaming leather bound books. Above her head, a modern art piece hangs from the ceiling. It's a mobile of some kind, made of thousands of intricately cut pieces of paper in varying shades of blue. The room so utterly encapsulates Elijah to her; elegant, yet straightforward.
She turns to face him, a wide smile breaking across her features. "This is your home, isn't it?"
"Only recently," Elijah explains. "But yes, this is where I prefer to spend my time." He looks out at the city for a moment thoughtfully. "I enjoy living in cities, I like the people, the pace but sometimes the noise gets to be too much for me. Living up here I can enjoy the city without all the clamour."
"May I?" Faith gestures to the bar against the farthest wall.
Elijah nods in agreement. "Don't forget you're still on the job Faith."
"Am I not safe here?" Elena glances around the room, her instincts searching for possible exits.
"You're quite safe here." Elijah assures her, sinking into a dark armchair. "This building is currently deserted from the thirtieth floor up. If someone comes, I will hear them. But," he throws Faith a stern look, "that doesn't mean we should let our guard down."
Rolling her eyes, Faith fixes a drink and dangles it in front of Elijah. "What's the point of having a bar this well stocked if you're not going to drink anything?"
Elijah sighs, taking the glass of amber liquid from her. "I suppose there's no harm in a nightcap. Elena, can I get you anything?"
Elena shakes her head. "I'd kind of like to just go to bed if that's okay; I'm exhausted."
"Of course." Elijah rises, his drink in hand. "Let me show you where you'll be sleeping. I hope you don't mind, but I think for safety reasons its best if you and Faith share a room."
Elijah picks up her small black bag and Faith's strangely shaped suitcase and leads her a short ways down the hall. He opens a door revealing an airy bedroom with floor to ceiling windows.
"I hope this will suit you," Elijah remarks awkwardly.
Elena laughs. "Elijah, you've seen my house. Compared to this..." She trails off, taking in the massive king sized bed piled with soft pillow.
He smiles indulgently. "Yes...well I can't say I have many house guests." He gestures to a door on her left. "There's a bathroom in there, and you're welcome to play with the thermostat if you need. I'm sorry there's no television, I suppose I ought to buy one."
Elena gives him a reassuring smile; she's never seen him seem so hesitant. "It's perfect. Thank you."
She walks closer to the window, looking out over the city.
Elijah comes to stand behind her. "That's Tower Bridge," he motions towards the grand bridge closest to them. "It was a big to do when they built it in the nineteenth century."
Elena studies the well lit bridge. "It looks kind of fake to me," she remarks.
Elijah lets out a soft laugh. "That's the Victorians for you. They designed it to complement the Tower of London." He points to a series of buildings just across the river. "Personally I find it a bit showy."
Elena turns, studying Elijah for a moment in the dim light of the room. His nose is slightly off kilter, as if broken too many times to heal properly but his eyes are all warmth. He watches her with that strange, open gaze she remembers from the train.
She squares her shoulders, looking him straight in the eye as she frames her question. "It's Tatia, isn't it?"
His eyes flicker rapidly from warm to defensive, his brow crumpling in confusion. "What?"
"Do you really think that I can't tell by now when someone is looking at me and seeing someone else?" Elena's voice softens. "When we were talking earlier— with Faith—about filling life's voids? You were talking about Tatia, weren't you?"
Elijah sighs, his eyes growing heavy with a thousand years of regret. "It was a very long time ago, Elena," he lets out.
Elena sinks into the chaise lounge at the foot of the bed. They sit quietly for a moment, in a heavy, drawn out sort of silence. "What was she like?" Elena ponders aloud, wondering who this first doppelganger, this metaphorical Helen of Troy, really was.
Elijah hesitates a moment. "She was curious," he finally says simply. "Always so interested in everything." His lips curl into a small smile, remembering. "Tatia was my best friend, you see. We were inseparable, born only a few days apart."
He pauses for a moment, sipping his drink before continuing. "If she were alive today she would probably be considered an adrenaline addict. She was always climbing the highest trees and jumping off cliffs and running headlong into mysterious caves." He shakes his head. "And I was always right beside her."
"She sounds wonderful," Elena murmurs, smiling.
"She was...extraordinary." Elijah's eyes grow sad. "But not all love stories have happy endings, do they?"
Elena shakes her head. She doesn't want to probe him any further but she feels like she needs to know what really happened. Like it or not, it is a part of her story too. "Elijah, will you tell me what really happened?" Absently, she runs her finger along the edging of the chaise cushion. "No one has ever really told me. And I feel like it might be important."
Elijah nods. "I suppose I owe it to you." Uncharacteristically, he knocks back the rest of his drink with one swallow. "I'm not really sure where to begin. As I said, Tatia and I were inseparable our whole childhood, but when we turned sixteen, things...changed. Girls didn't have the freedom they do today, and Tatia well...she was certainly what you could call a free spirit. She was expected to marry and while I wanted to marry her myself, my father was absolutely against it. He refused to relinquish the portion of land he promised I was to receive when I married. There was no way I could have provided for us on our own, so I went looking for other options.
"At the time, our settlement, including the werewolves, was in a dispute with our neighbours to the north. There was a group of men setting off to attempt a negotiation with them and I knew if I was able to contribute, I would be rewarded a plot of land upon my return." He pauses, setting his glass down on the night table. "Tatia and I spoke before I left and we agreed we would marry when I returned." He draws in a heavy breath. "I asked Nik to look in on her while I was away, make sure she had enough food and such. I was gone far longer than either of us anticipated. When I returned four years later, the situation was...well…" He swallows, staring out at the city for a moment before he continues.
"When I returned, I found Tatia with a two year old daughter. It seems she had become enraptured with a trader from a distant tribe. He left shortly after she became pregnant, and as far as I know, no one ever saw him again. I was angry with her at first but in the end, I understood and still loved her, and her daughter Leah. After all, it was the very qualities I admired in her; her passion, her curiosity that got her into such a situation in the first place. I would have gone onto marry her then and there if it weren't for Niklaus. It seems in my absence, he grew fond of her, and she of him. Tatia was unable to make a decision between the two of us so..." Elijah trails off with a weary sigh. "I think you're familiar with how the rest of the story goes, lives ruined, bloodshed, the like?"
Elena gulps, put off by his bitter tone. It is obvious to her that he doesn't wish to continue tonight so she gives him a curt nod.
"While Tatia was certainly not blameless, my mother and father created a great injustice due to the actions of my brother and myself. It is a penance I will forever pay."
Elena peers up at him, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "Thank you for telling me, Elijah."
He gives her a small nod of acknowledgment. "Sometime I will tell you the rest, but not tonight I think. I'll send Faith in shortly. Let me know if there's anything I can get for you."
Elena smiles weakly. "I'll be fine, thank you Elijah."
He pats her head once awkwardly on the way out the door. "Sleep well, Elena."
He ducks quietly out of the room, leaving her to her thoughts.
"Elena!" Elena wakes to find Faith roughly shaking her. "Elena get dressed! Hurry!"
Blinking wildly against the bright lights of the room, Elena rolls off the bed and grabs her jeans off the chaise without question.
"What's happening?" she whispers as she wiggles into her skinny jeans.
"There's someone coming." Faith explains, reaching into her bag and pulling out a long, axe like weapon. With the edge of the blade painted a deep red like blood and the other end sharpened into a razor sharp stake, there is no doubt it is a harbinger of death. Elena shudders, glad at least the weapon is in Faith's hands rather than her own. "Elijah says he can hear people in the stairwell and the elevator just passed the thirty fifth floor."
Elena grabs her coat anticipating they will find themselves once again outside. "What are we going to do?"
Faith holds a finger to her lips and hands Elena a stake. Reaching into the nightstand, she grabs a piece of paper, quickly scrawling the words: Service elevator off kitchen. Elijah holding them off.
Nodding, Elena clenches her fingers tightly around the stake and follows Faith to the door. Faith cracks the bedroom door open, her posture coiled with tension ready to be sprung in a fight. As they make their way into the hallway everything appears quiet, normal to Elena's human ears.
The girls move down the hallway as quietly as they can manage, Faith in the lead with the axe like weapon held aloft, ready to strike. Elena holds her breath in anticipation as they reach the end of the hall; the living room is only seconds away and beyond that, the kitchen.
Faith takes a step towards the archway into the living room, but before Elena can follow her, the silence is shattered by an ear splitting roar. An explosion rips through the opposite wall, throwing Elena several feet backwards. Surrounded by falling debris and stunned by the force of the explosion, Elena tries to make out Faith's figure but finds she can't see much of anything through the dust.
With her ears ringing, she props herself up on her elbows, assessing for any broken bones; when she doesn't feel any sharp pains, she sits up all the way. She doesn't get very far however, before a figure makes their way through the hole now blasted in the wall.
Elena scrambles into a standing position, though she is a bit unsteady on her feet, searching frantically through the debris for the stake she lost in the explosion.
Over the ringing in her ears, she can just make out the figure yell something like "Found her."
Swallowing her panic, she crawls over a large chunk of fallen dry wall that now divides the hall. Landing not so gracefully on the other side, she spots Faith sitting up, her leg pinned under a heavy sculpture of Elijah's that must have fallen on her during the explosion.
"I can't lift it," Faith screams. Elena runs to her side trying to help her but Faith shakes her head. "Get out of here!"
A piece of drywall shifts, revealing the maniacal grin of her opponent. Elena freezes, unable to scream as she sees his eyes narrowed at her, a fierce, sickening yellow, identifying him as a hybrid.
"Elena!" Faith yells, snapping her out of her momentary panic. Something is shoved into her hands and it takes a moment for Elena to realize it's the weapon Faith was holding before the explosion.
Elena acts purely on instinct as the hybrid rushes at her, she stares him down, not moving an inch until she can see the whites of his eyes. When he is nearly on her, with the warmth of his foul breath on her face, she draws the sharpened end of her weapon up. The hybrid runs straight into her stake with a sickening squelch, helped by the force of his momentum. He lets out a shrill scream of pain but Elena doesn't pause for a second. She yanks the weapon from where it is buried in his abdomen and raises the axe head, bringing it down with as much force as she can muster onto his neck.
Despite her doubts about her physical strength, the incredibly sharp blade takes the hybrid's head clean off. Elena watches, her mouth a perfect 'o' of horror as the head rolls onto the floor, splattering blood with it.
She drops the weapon with a clatter.
"Elena," Faith says through gritted teeth. "There are more coming. Get out of here. Get as far away as you can."
"But I—" she looks at Faith's face, remembering her promise to Damon.
"I'll be fine," Faith answers her unspoken question. She holds out her hand. "Just hand me the scythe and I'll be alright."
Elena lifts the weapon and holds it out to Faith who takes it, relief flitting across her features as soon as she grips the weapon in her hands. "Go now," Faith urges. "We'll find you later, just run."
Elena gives her a swift nod and turns on her heel running as fast as she can through the thankfully still deserted living room and into the kitchen.
Elena skirts a massive island counter and skids to a halt in front of the elevator, tucked in the back next to the pantry. She presses into the button, putting all her desperation into hoping the elevator is on this floor. When the doors swing open she throws herself inside and presses the button for the ground floor. Letting out a breath of gratitude, she leans against the wall, rapidly trying to come up with a plan of action. If all the hybrids are all upstairs, there's a chance she can get out of this building free; even for a hybrid, it would take some time to scale sixty-five storeys worth of stairs.
The elevator opens on the ground floor with a ding, releasing her to an unfamiliar looking hallway painted in an ugly beige colour. At the end of the hall, a shiny red exit sign is illuminated. Listening carefully for any noises, Elena steps out of the elevator and makes her way down to the hall; the closer she gets to the exit, the more quickly she moves, finally bursting into an all out sprint as she swings the door open and steps into the London evening. Panting, she rushes in front of the first cab she can find. The driver slams on his breaks, narrowly avoiding running her over.
"Are you alright, Miss?" the driver asks.
"I need a ride," she responds automatically. Eager to get out of the line of sight of anyone coming out of the building, she opens the door and scrambles into the cab. "Quickly."
The driver eyes her dusty and bloody appearance with pursed lips but pulls into traffic instead of kicking her out. "Where?"
She thinks for a moment, staring out at the wet streets of London. If Klaus has found her already, chances are she is no longer safe in this city. It's time to move, and do it quickly.
"Take me to St. Pancreas please," she finally requests.
She rests her head against her seat, catching her breath as the cab driver pulls into traffic, leaving The Shard behind them, shimming in the darkness.
Sticking her hands in her coat pocket, Elena comes up with Evelyn's passport and a handful of bills, left over from the money Elijah gave her to purchase lunch earlier. She thumbs through them, glad that he handed her far more than necessary for lunch and refused to take the change. There's almost two hundred pounds, enough for her cab ride, a last minute ticket out of the city, and hopefully a few cheap meals.
Once at St. Pancreas International, Elena rushes to the ticket counter. "I need the next train out of London please," she demands breathlessly.
The woman behind the counter regards her curiously but refrains from inquiring about her strange appearance. "There's one leaving for Paris in twenty minutes."
"Great, I'll take it," Elena declares, hurriedly handing over Evelyn's passport.
"That'll be one hundred and eighty pounds," the woman informs her crisply.
"One hundred and eighty pounds?" Elena spits out in shock. One hundred and eighty pounds is nearly all the money she has left.
"It's a last minute ticket," The woman explains. "You have to book in advance if you want decent rates."
"Is there anything cheaper?" Elena inquires anxiously.
The woman shakes her head. "That's the last train going to the Continent tonight. If you'd like to wait until tomorrow morning there's a train to Brussels for one hundred and forty."
Elena shakes her head, knowing she can't wait that long. If Klaus finds her again she will probably never get free. "I'll take it," she states firmly, unpeeling the bills and handing them over to the woman.
As soon as she's finished, Elena pockets her ticket and sprints to International Departures. After making it through security, she just barely manages to sink herself into a seat on the train before it pulls away with a screech, leaving the lights of London behind.
A/N: Thank you all who are still with me, I'm still chugging along and intend to finish this story, albeit slowly. Thanks so much for all the support you've given! Special thanks to my beta Skye for the excellent beta work on what has been a rough chapter.
Slight disclaimer: The Shard does exist and it is currently the tallest building in Western Europe. While I have seen it in person and researched it in order to accurately describe some of the details, I have not been inside it. Therefore any description of the interior is purely my imagination.