We found their kingdom with no trouble once we knew it's supposed to be there. Once we knew what we're supposed to be looking for. It was right around the corner, maybe five minutes from where we met Ilea, which made us feel pretty silly. But then again, Ilea's spell is very strong and highly effective. She clearly has a lot of power, which makes me wonder how much power her sister has when this was the only way to contain her.
Their kingdom looks like a huge ice skating rink now, that I can't even imagine it ever looking like Ilea described it to us. There's no resemblance with this place and that small patch of land where she lives now.
All the trees, wells, fountains, even tiny animals like squirrels and birds, alongside every inch of the ground, is frozen. We can see their outline under the ice. In the far back, there's a castle, hoovering like a giant ice monster above the rest of the kingdom. I wonder how many people are frozen in there alongside Ilea's sister? Guards, maids, chefs? Common people? Did they get a chance to leave before everything turned into ice?
We were surprised to find out that, when we stepped on it, the ice isn't slippery. It feels more like stone than ice under our feet, and we can walk around freely, without worrying we're going to slip and fall.
There's still a lot of tension between Damon and me, that I'm actually surprised it isn't what it takes to melt this ice and bring the kingdom to its former glory. So many words left unsaid, hanging above our heads, like a weight that's threatening to crush us. We're walking separately, far away from each other, looking for clues on opposing ends.
The more I explore this place, the more I can see actual beauty of it, behind all the ice. Beauty Ilea talked about. In my mind I take all the ice away and all I'm left with is beautiful scenery. Trees everywhere. An orchard. Animals living here freely, with no fear of getting caught or killed, scavenging for food, maybe even someone to play with. So much greenery, warm wind, the blueness of the sky. Nothing in this dimension reminded me of home as much as this does. Except maybe Damon.
We scrunch every bit of this place, look in every corner and hidden passage we can find, and it takes us days, but we don't find the key. We look inside of the castle, around it, behind every frozen tree and stone, but there's nothing even remotely similar to a key around here.
"Ah, this is useless!" I yell out of desperation, crashing down on the ground while throwing my hands in the air.
The ice doesn't melt, it doesn't feel cold, and it's not slippery, which makes me wonder is this really ice we're dealing with.
"What? You suppose we give up? Just like that?" he snaps at me, dragging his palms across the ice, like he's caressing it. His touch is slow and patient.
"And what do you propose we do?" I ask angrily, looking straight at him, even though he's refusing to look back at me.
"We continue looking," he says calmly.
How can he be this calm after frustratingly many amount of days of searching for something that's clearly not here. You would expect him to threaten to explode, and me to have to calm him down, but it seems that we've switched roles. How, and when, did that happen?
"There's nowhere to look anymore!" I scream at him. We've already looked everywhere there is to look, at some places even twice, because we either forgot we already looked there, or because we feared we might have missed something.
"Maybe the key isn't anywhere we've looked before. Maybe it's inside."
In that moment, an idea hits me, something I haven't tried before. I was right to think ice isn't really ice, not in the true meaning of the word. It's not a natural phenomenon, it's magic. And if it was created by magic then, maybe, it can be destroyed by magic.
"Incendio," I say, which is enough to catch his attention and he, finally, turns to look at me. Our eyes meet only for a second before he lowers his look on my palm, where a small flame lies.
I blow at it, but the flame doesn't go out, instead it flies away from my palm, like dust would. It lands down on the ground, and we both watch it hopefully until it disappears completely.
Nothing happens. The spot where the flame landed is untouched, like fire wasn't there just seconds ago.
"Urgh!" I yell, annoyed and disappointed. Damon seems disappointed as well, but he quickly shakes the feeling off and goes back to exploring the ice. He seems so desperate to go home, maybe even more than me, and I can't help to think I'm the reason why. He's tired of me breaking him, and he's tired of having conversations that always finish the same way they started, taking us nowhere. We've been traveling down the same road for a long time now.
We fall into silence, and it overwhelms me.
Because I miss him, I miss his words and the sound of his voice, I even miss those annoyingly sarcastic remarks of his. I miss his frustrating smirk and the way he looks at me. I miss him after just few days of not speaking to him, even though he's been right beside me this whole time. What's going to happen when I'll have to go days without seeing him? How will I feel then?
I..
"You were right, you know?" I say, my voice shaking, even though I try to steady it.
"I know," he replies, not paying much attention to how much I'm shaking, from inside to out, "I usually am. But what about this time?"
"I'm afraid because I saw what your love did to Elena," I swallow after those words leave my mouth, "I saw how it destroyed her. She barely made it out alive."
He stops all movement and turns around to look at me, anger and pain filling out his face. "You've already told me that, Bonnie, million times in million different ways," he's looking at me as if he's begging me to stop torturing him with the same old speech over and over again.
But that's not my intention. And that's not the point I'm trying to make this time.
"But that's all you're choosing to hear," my voice hardens, I'm trying to hold my ground, "Did you ever ask yourself why?"
"Why what?" he's quick with his comeback.
"Why I'm afraid in the first place," I push myself off of the ground and get on my feet. I feel too little and too vulnerable down there.
"I'm afraid because I remember," I say firmly, clenching my fists. "I remember how you made me feel when I didn't have any memories. You were exactly what I needed back then. Somehow you were the only one who understood that I just need time, and you were the only one who didn't mention the 'old' me," I take a deep breath before continuing, but he intercepts me.
"I really don't need to hear how all of that disappeared after you remembered what an awful person I am," he spits at me, a frown appearing on the bridge of his nose.
"I wasn't going to say that!" I yell angrily, frustrated by him jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst, "It's the opposite! I've remembered all the things you did, yes, and you can't take them away, and I can't forget about them just like that. But everything I felt for you didn't disappear. If anything, those feelings just grew bigger," I admit, my cheeks puffy, my voice jumping up and down with frustration and fear and other feelings I can't name.
His eyes go wide as those words leave my mouth, as if he can't believe he's hearing them. He probably can't.
I've stunned him into silence. He freezes in place like a statue.
"I've prayed for them to go away. I've tried to make them go away, but they've rooted themselves so deeply inside of me that no force could just will them away. Not even my memory."
"Why?" he finally asks.
I furrow my brows. "Why what?" I don't quite understand what he's trying to ask.
"Why did you continue liking me after you got your memories back?" he cocks his head to the side, looking up at me.
A valid question, one I'm still trying to answer to myself. "I don't really have an answer to that.." I say meekly, like I'm apologizing for not being able to give him an explanation, "You make me laugh, even in situations when I shouldn't be laughing. You make them easier, I guess, and I need that, because I don't know how to do it by myself, and some things are just too heavy for me to carry. You also make me see a different side when it comes to certain things, a side I wouldn't even consider otherwise. You make me broaden my views.. I'm not so set in my ways anymore."
I wish I could tell him I have feelings for him because he's a good person. Because he's selfless and kind and helps those in need. He's not any of those things, though.
But those are not the only reasons that make you love a person. Not everyone are like that. Honestly, only few people are like that.
You don't love a person because of those qualities. Sure, they help you admire them, and admiration often leads to love, but love often comes from a different place. Love blooms from a simple smile, or electricity in your skin when you touch. It comes from a warmth after a kiss.
"Damon, I don't just like you," I mumble, struggling with words I've never said to anyone before, "I - "
I don't get to say it.
Before those words leave my lips, he's on his feet, standing in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer. My breath is still inside of my throat, stuck, when he presses his lips against mine.
It doesn't take me long to kiss him back. My arms go around his neck, and my lips start moving to the same rhythm as his.
One, two, three, and we're synchronized.
He became so familiar to me. His skin is like my own skin, his touch is expected, and his kisses are welcome.
If anyone ever told me I'm going to love Damon Salvatore, I would probably laugh them off. I would ask them if they're actually being serious, or are they trying to play a prank on me. Me having remotely positive feelings for Damon, ha, joke of the year. He's rude and self destructive, he's self centered and selfish. He has no remorse whatsoever and everything he does, he does for his gain.
But is became was, and does turned into did.
He's not an angel, and he's probably never going to be. He's always going to be rudely sarcastic and he's never going to be rescuing kittens from trees. He'll probably never learn how to not save those he loves, even if they beg him. He doesn't know how to let go, and he never will. He's not designed to let go.
He has his faults, but so do I, even if they're different set of faults. Even if they're easily forgivable, unlike his.
But he possess qualities I don't, and there's goodness in him I don't have. He's a glass half empty and I'm a glass half full and, together, we make a full glass of whatever both of us need. Both of us are dying of thirst.
When he stops kissing me, I smile against his lips, and he smiles back.
His smile makes me write sucky poetry.
"I'm afraid too, you know?" he's the first one to break the silence.
"Of what?" I ask curiously.
"Loving you. It's a whole new experience for me. I want to carve your name in every tree," he laughs under his breath, "Well, except these ones," he motions around us.
I chuckle, but his words make me remember something. The woman, the one Damon called a seeker, said we'll have to carve the last key from the ice that doesn't melt.
My expression goes serious all of a sudden, when I remember her exact words.
"What is it?" he asks, afraid, when he sees the expression on my face. When he feels my body go rigid in his arms.
"I think I've figured it out," I say. I pull myself away from him and reach into my bag. In there, I find a knife. Arden packed it for me, I guess he thought it would come in handy when it comes to some food in there, like for peeling oranges.
Damon watches me carefully as I get to my knees and stab the knife into the ice. I start moving it around, pulling it into directions I want it to go. I struggle with it, the ice is thick and hard, and a plain kitchen knife is too weak for it. It takes me a several minutes, but I finally manage to do what I set my mind into.
I pull the knife out of ice, and reach down for what I've been working on.
I take out a piece of ice and show it to Damon.
His eyes go wide with disbelief.
There's a hole in the ground and, in my hands, there's a piece of ice in a shape of a key.