Updated late, but thus chapter is super long lol.
Hope y'all forgive me, and like it!
Oh, and sadly I will be out of town for a week or so starting on Saturday, so my posts/updates may be a little irregular.
Sorry!
Present Day
Elena sat in her room, watching the clock.
It read 9:20.
The sun had long gone down, she'd told Jenna she was turning in early, and now had about half an hour to decide if she was really going to do this.
Two weeks ago, not a chance in hell.
But ever since the comet had reached the sky, she'd felt different.
Out of place.
The dreams had only added to that feeling.
And then the questions of the necklace.
So much didn't add up, but she felt like it might have to do with her birth parents, and if for whatever reason, her dreams were leading her to this man, maybe he knew something.
He certainly knew her.
She flushed with embarrassment, remembering the kiss.
Her lips were still tingling, and for some strange reason, the sensation was familiar.
He was familiar, and in more ways than just her having dreamt of him.
The world had literally faded when she laid eyes on him, and whatever feeling that had come over her, compelling her to kiss him, it was strong.
Intimidating strong.
Unfightable.
She took a deep breath.
The point was, she needed answers, and he seemed to have them.
She couldn't explain it, and hell, she didn't want to, but she knew she had to go tonight.
She had to know what he knew.
Damon had arrived early.
He'd wanted the time to prepare himself, and frankly, he had nowhere better to be.
He stared out at the rubble.
This was home, after all.
This was what remained.
Elena's prophecy had come to pass then.
Their death had brought the end of Aurelia, and she had fallen to the fire.
Part of him wished he could've seen it burn.
The other half couldn't wait until Elena was once again at his side, up to full power. They'd raise Aurelia from the ashes, starting with the castle.
But they would need blood.
Lots of it.
"By God, it really is you," a voice called from behind.
Damon straightened, recognizing it all too well.
He smirked, turning.
"Hello, brother."
Stefan's face was a stone scowl.
"A little late on the welcoming, Damon. I've caught glimpses of you all week."
"Is that so? Hmm. I suppose we're skipping the formalities then?"
Stefan took a step closer to him.
"I know what you want, Damon. I've waited half of a millennium for her, for you. I won't let you do this."
"You can't stop me," Damon assured him, confidently, "Our spell worked, Stefan. I bought my future with our father's blood, and Elena's powers are of equal mass. You impose no threat to us."
Stefan held his gaze, "Elena is not what you remember, Damon. She's good. She's happy. If you truly love her, don't ruin this life for her. Don't get her killed again."
Damon growled, stepping forward, "It wasn't me that sentenced her to burn, brother. You're lucky she doesn't remember that little detail."
"You stained her," Stefan argued, "Spoiled her soul with your blasphemy. I knew that wherever you turned up, you'd destroy her there as well. So I found her first."
"Right. Did you want to explain how you survived the fire? Oh, and the passing centuries, while you're at it."
Stefan smirked, "I have you to thank, actually. It was mother's talisman, the amulet, the diamond filled with her blood. Elena wore it to the stake."
Damon sighed, understanding, "It protected itself from the fire."
"I found it among your ashes," Stefan confirmed, "And I kept it, to remind me of what I'd lost."
"Touching," Damon mocked.
Stefan shot him a look, but continued, "I didn't realize it was changing me. All I knew was that I was enraged. You killed our father, ruined my fiance, and left me to carry Aurelia alone. When King Petrova attacked...We crumbled, and I wanted to die. I had nothing left."
"Skip to the end," Damon urged, "I don't have all night."
"The amulet fed from my rage, my hopelessness," Stefan amended, annoyed, "My one desire was to live long enough to ruin your new life, as you had ruined mine. So the amulet changed me."
With a flash of his teeth, veins ran under Stefan's eyes, and Damon did a double take.
"A creature of the night," he mused, "The only true immortal being. That necklace must be more powerful than even I realized."
Then he remembered where he lay saw it.
"If you knew this, why is Elena wearing it?"
Stefan crossed his arms, "You know, living alone for so many years can really put things into perspective. I came here, everyday, to the place the two of you burned. I knew one of you would show eventually.
It took nearly five hundred years, but she finally did. Now, imagine my surprise when a flash of light left an infant behind."
"An infant?" Damon pressed.
"A baby," Stefan nodded, "I later realized what the two of you had done. Elena was burned during the comet of Auroras Borealis, at the age of seventeen. Now, is it so shocking that a baby turns up exactly seventeen years before the next time the comet passes? I knew what that meant. I knew you'd follow her, as soon as the comet had aligned again. And here you are."
"And here I am," Damon taunted, "But that doesn't explain why she has the amulet."
"I left it with her that night, hoping it would protect her. Then a couple found her, and she was lost to me. I waited until she was older before entering her life. I knew I had to before you did. Otherwise you'd ruin her again."
"You speak as though you care," Damon smirked, stepping closer, "Like you truly believe the Elena you thought existed is still alive."
"She is," Stefan assured him, "I've watched her for years, Damon. She's innocent, pure. Nothing left of the past to blacken her new slate."
Damon laughed lowly, running the tips of his fingers over his lips as he recalled their kiss, "I'm sure you're right, Stefan. I'm sure she's completely redeemed, and your heroics will spare her the eternal damnation you believe is awaiting me."
"Do not mock me, Damon," Stefan warned, "I meant what I said. I won't let you ruin her again."
"You aren't strong enough to stop me," Damon hissed, beginning to grow annoyed.
"Perhaps," Stefan allowed, though his fangs elongated slightly, "But remember that we're both monsters now, Damon."
"You are a mutilated perversion of one," Damon spat, reaching out and grabbing his brother's shoulder, digging into the skin there with his nails, drawing blood.
With little effort, he forced Stefan to his knees.
The youngest Salvatore groaned under the pressure.
Damon felt the power rise in him, as he drained the witch magic from Stefan's body, through the smear of red on his fingertips.
"What are you doing to me?" Stefan choked, weakening.
Damon released him, and waited until Stefan had climbed to his feet, before gloating, "Come now, brother, you know the legend, as well as I."
Slowly, he licked the blood from his fingers, "What you are...it within itself is a spell. Your entire existence is made up of a fuel for my strength. You can't beat me," he lowered his tone warningly.
"And yet, I can't allow you to go through with this."
Damon's mouth twitched in annoyance, "You speak boastful words, but need I remind you further of what I've done?"
He smirked, "Is my presence here not proof of my power? I have no limitations. Now, do you really wish to be the obstacle standing between me and what I want?"
Stefan scowled, "What you want no longer exists. She's not what she was."
"Then I'll take her how she is," Damon spat, "Our love survived death itself! What are you, compared to that?"
Stefan stood his ground, "This isn't over, and I've made my vow."
Damon laughed, "And now I make mine. This has only just begun, brother. So enjoy the remainder of your time with her. For Elena's heart is already claimed. Remember that, the next time you are with her...now, leave me. I tire of this fight."
Unable to do anything else, Stefan cursed, "I will find a way to stop you."
"I look forward to it," Damon smirked, and Stefan disappeared, his scent fading with the wind.
Damon chuckled in his absence, enjoying the power coursing through him.
It would be just what he needed tonight, when trying to convince Elena of the truth.
Elena dimmed her headlights as she took the turn onto the unpaved road that lead to the castle's ruins.
The darkness of the night around her seemed thicker than usual as the road weaved her through a thicket of woods.
This is stupid.
She had told herself so a million times.
But her curiosity had won out.
Whatever was going on, whatever these dreams are, she had to know.
And who better to get answers from than the man who had haunted her subconscious for weeks now.
If he even showed.
If he was even real, and not a figment of her imagination.
She took a deep breath, and made a final turn off the side road, and her tires hit the gravel of earth.
Her heart sped up as light was casted onto the ruins.
Even in the poor illumination of her headlights, she could see every detail of him, standing there.
Dark, and still, with his hands in his jacket pocket, he waited; eyes focused.
Elena took a few settling inhales, before steeling herself, killing the ignition, and opening the door.
But she left the lights on to see him.
A smile, that was almost cocky, cascaded across Damon's face as she stepped out of her car and walked toward him.
He didn't move to greet her.
He just waited, his gaze following her every step.
Once she came within his proximity, she felt it again.
The same aching, mind numbing want from before.
Only this time, she'd expected it, and fought against whatever it was telling her to touch him, to kiss him, to lose control.
Damon watched, amused, as she waged her internal battle, as if he too could feel whatever this was.
She met his gaze, refusing to allow this pull to distract her.
"You're here," she started.
Damon smiled slowly, and her battle was almost lost.
"As are you," he noted, "As I knew you would be."
She huffed, "Yeah, want to tell me how that is exactly?"
He removed his hands from his jacket, extending an arm to her, "All in due time."
She swallowed, not sure if she should give in quite yet.
How bad did she really want answers?
Bad enough.
With a sigh, she looped her arms through his, making up her mind.
She had to know.
Heat flashed through her at his touch, but she managed to ignore it.
Damon escorted her across the rubble, a few yards back, over to where a stone archway still stood, weathered by time and storms, barely within the range of her headlights.
Damon placed his free hand on it, his eyes closing.
She was surprised to see a sorrowful look pass over his expression.
"Damon?" She called after a moment of silence.
Burning blue orbs looked over at her.
"It's a shame really," he stated quietly, "that you don't remember."
"Remember what?" Elena urged, her hand slipping up to finger her necklace, a habit that arose when she was nervous.
She found it warm again.
Damon followed the motion, his hand grazing hers as he lifted the amulet from her skin.
"Have you ever been in love, Elena?" he asked, eyes on her necklace.
Her brows pulled together.
What kind of question was that?
He looked up at her expectantly, and she cleared her throat.
"Uh, yeah, I suppose," she blushed, thinking of Stefan, and the way she'd let Damon kiss her before.
"You suppose?" He smirked, dropping the amulet so it could once again fall to place on her chest, even warmer.
"Yeah, I suppose," she confirmed, "I've had boyfriends before, and I've loved each of them in a way. But I'm only seventeen. It's not like I have to look for a lifetime commitment."
"A school house boyfriend constitutes to love, does it?" Damon asked her, a look similar to annoyance upon his face, "Tell me, has a single one of them made your skin crawl with just their lips upon your neck? Can they steal away your breath with a simple kiss?"
He stepped closer to her, but she was so enraptured by the passion in his voice and the fire of his eyes, that she hardly noticed, "Tell me, my sweet Elena, can any of those children stir in you an insatiable desire for a love that even time will bow down and be still for?"
Her mouth seemed very dry as he spoke.
She swallowed, once, then twice, and Damon smirked, "I didn't think so."
Elena felt a strange urge to fight against his self-assuredness, to tell him he was wrong.
But no one, not even Stefan, had ignited in her the feelings he described.
Feelings so close to breaking through now, as she stared at this man.
But that wasn't why she'd come.
"I don't care what you think of my love life," she said, lifting her chin, "I met with you tonight for answers, not riddles."
He eyed her, before nodding, "Fine. What do you want to know?"
Everything, she thought, but knew she'd have to be more specific.
"I've been dreaming about you. Why?"
Damon studied her, then asked, "First, tell me what you dream about."
Elena blushed, recalling her more recurring visions of the two of them.
"Well?" Damon taunted, as if he already knew.
"I'm not sure," she answered semi-honestly, "It all runs together, but certain things stand out. Like the fire, and blood, and...you."
She glanced at him, waiting for another sly remark, but found instead, his darkening eyes.
She felt his fingers gliding across her waist then, and her breath caught.
"And what happens in these dreams, Elena?"
His voice was like melted silk, compelling answers from her against her will, "You have me drink blood as we make love. It covers me, and you. All over our skin. And you lick it off of me."
Damon's eyes were magnets, pulling her closer against him as words poured from her lips.
The necklace at her throat grew hot.
"Other times, I'm tied to a bed, naked. You have knives, and you cut me, but I like it. Then you say strange words and the cuts heal."
Her back was against the stone arch now, and Damon was as close as he could be, hips pressing against her, his eyes closing as he leaned his forehead against hers.
"More," he breathed, "Tell me more."
She exhaled, his scent filling her nostrils in a familiar way.
Again, she couldn't help but answer. Couldn't deny him what he so clearly wanted.
"I dream of killing. I don't know why, but I do. It's like I watch through my own eyes as I slice the necks of strangers. And they're always dressed differently, like from a medieval movie or something. I carve out their hearts, or watch as you do, and we wrap them up."
She swallowed, "When we're done, we burn the bodies, then go back to the room with the bed. There's always this bear claw tub, filled with warm water, by a fireplace, and we get in it. You unwrap the heart, and blood starts dripping into the water. Then...you eat it. We eat it."
By this point, Damon's hands had wrapped around her wrists, holding them against the stone, above her head. His head was nuzzled into her neck, and his body was hard against hers, restricting movement.
"Damon," she exhaled, another wave of desire washing over her, as she felt his pressed against her stomach.
She tried to remember that she shouldn't allow this to happen.
Aside from her dreams, this man was a stranger.
And if she was judging him based off her dreams, she should be terrified.
The man in her dreams was a monster, a murder.
She shouldn't be feeling like this toward him.
But then Damon sucked on her skin, and she moaned, all thoughts clearing.
Whatever power this man held over her body, it was winning.
She wanted him with a ferocity that would have intimidated her, had she been in a rational mind set.
But she wasn't.
So instead, she pulled his head up, and connected their lips.
He released her wrists to grip her waist, and her hands immediately began clawing at his shoulders, needing him closer.
She couldn't explain the feelings radiating from her as she helped him remove his jacket, tossing it to the ground.
Lust, perhaps, but there was something more.
As she looked into his eyes, she knew him.
Intimately.
His body was a siren call, and she couldn't refuse him, as he attacked her lips again.
The truth of that excited her as much as it terrified her.
But not as much as her next realization.
Not only did she know Damon, but she trusted him.
In this moment, would die for him.
Kill for him.
She...loved him.
With a hard shove, Elena forced Damon off of her.
He stumbled back a step, eyes wide, shirt disarrayed and hair tasseled.
She fought to catch her breath.
"What are you doing to me?" She demanded, her voice shaking.
Damon smirked, "Nothing you're not begging for."
She gave him a cold stare, "Don't toy with me, and answer the question."
"I'm not doing anything," he assured her.
"Then why do I feel like this?" She asked, still breathing heavily, "I don't even know you. I have a boyfriend. There's no reason I should..."
He had taken a step forward, and the heat returned, "I shouldn't...want...This."
She was in his arms again, their mouths connected.
He kissed her longingly, agonizingly.
When his lips shifted to her chin, she gasped.
The air unfogged her mind, but only slightly.
"No!" She turned, forcing him to let go of her, "Don't touch me."
He obliged, letting her shake her head, "What the hell is going on?"
The air between them had only helped a little.
He must have picked up on the desperate panic in her voice.
"I'll tell you everything," he promised, his lips swollen, "But it's going to be difficult to believe."
"Tell me," she demanded.
He eyed her, then nodded.
"Alright. To answer your first question, those aren't dreams you've been having. Their memories of the past, trying to break through your subconsciousness and remind you of who you are."
Elena felt a shiver run through her body.
"And who am I?"
Damon's eyes held hers as he took a step closer.
"Your birthed name is Petrova. Eleniana Petrova, to be exact. But you always preferred to be called Elena."
She thought back to where she'd heard that name before, and swallowed.
"Petrova...As in the royal family that ruled Mystic until the late fifteen hundreds?"
Damon nodded, "Your father was king. You, his one and only heir."
She laughed disbelievingly.
"Right, I'm the princess of an ancient kingdom."
"You are," he told her, "Even if you don't remember."
She shook her head, "Uh Huh, wait, I've heard this story. Let me guess, you're the prince I was sent to marry, coming back from the dead to claim his bride."
Damon cocked his head to the side, "You think I'm joking?"
She stared at him, "Considering that it's impossible for me to have been alive during Mystic's monarch, nearly five hundred years ago, yeah, I'd say you're joking."
He smirked, "I told you it was hard to believe."
"No," she corrected, "There's hard to believe, and then there's impossible. Those dreams, visions, or whatever, can't be memories. That would be impossible."
"And yet, you know it's not," Damon urged, "You know there's more to it than that. You've seen it in your dreams. The blood, the magic. You know what it's capable of."
She huffed, "So you're telling me that all of it really happened, then? That you are some sadistic murderer, that eats human hearts? That you have powers and somehow, they've allowed us to live 500 years outside our time? Come on."
He pursed his lips, "You warned me that you'd be different. That it may be hard to convince you of the truth. But yes, Elena. That's exactly what I'm telling you. You lived in a time where the power wasn't hidden as it is today, and you wielded it perfectly, using it to become the weapon I always knew you could be."
"I didn't kill innocent people," she protested.
"No, you slaughtered them," Damon mused, "Without a second thought. You were the most dangerous beauty I'd ever seen."
"Why would i do that?" She whispered, paling, "Why would I kill them?
She wouldn't, right?
But then why did the dreams feel so real?
"Because I told you to," Damon smirked, "And you loved me."
Elena swallowed, remembering the feelings that had overcome her earlier, "This isn't real."
"Oh, it's very real, my darling," he declared, "Can you not feel it? We killed for the power the blood gave us, for the sacrifice magic requires."
Elena stumbled backwards, toward her car, "You're insane."
Damon sighed, "I should have guessed you'd make this difficult."
She bolted then, sprinting towards her car.
Damon was waiting in front of the door when she got there.
Her eyes widened, "How did you-"
"I told you," he interrupted, "Magic. Now, don't run from me. It's rude."
"It's...this can't be real," Elena breathed again, almost to herself.
"Keep telling yourself that," Damon chuckled, "You think it's a coincidence that you began having these dreams just as the comet of Aurora Borealis entered Earth's atmosphere? That I'm suddenly here, and you know me to your core?"
Elena swallowed, unable to deny it, "What does the comet have to do with this?"
"It's what our spell was bound to, Elena. The night my brother ordered for us to burn at the stake, the comet touched the full moon. The same night I drained my father of his blood; the sacrifice of the patricide sealing the magic for our spell. You died that night, at the age of seventeen, and appeared in these woods, exactly seventeen years before the next pass of the comet."
Elena couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Even worse, she couldn't believe that she was starting to think it may be true.
It made too much sense.
"If that's true, why didn't it do the same to you?" She demanded.
"The spell was made for one," Damon hurried to explain, "We were arrogant, and filled with magic. We convinced ourselves that we could pull it off for both of us."
"Why?" she asked, "Why go through all the trouble?"
"Because it's the only way we could be together," he explained, lifting a hand to her cheek, "You were given to my brother as nothing more than a bargaining tool. They'd have never let us be together, despite the fact that I was Aurelia's true heir. So you used your powers, and saw what was to come. You saw Aurelia burn with our deaths, and a way for us to live again. To be together and resurrect Aurelia from her ashes."
She blinked remembering flashes of fire and pain.
"You're being serious?"
He nodded, "I wouldn't lie about this, Elena. Not to you."
She held his gaze, "We just heard the story in class. And if what you said is true, then you are the Salvatore prince. The one the princess...that I...fell in love with?"
Damon nodded, "Precisely."
Elena swallowed, grabbing her necklace, "You're the voice from my dream then, the one that gave me this?"
Again, Damon nodded, "It was my mother's. She is as I am. A Shadowcaster."
"A Shadowcaster?" Elena tried the word.
"Born witches can create their own magic," Damon explained, "It runs in their veins. Shadowcasters only practice the arts of blood magic. We can't create it."
"Which is why you need witches blood," Elena concluded.
Damon nodded, "After being trained, a Shadowcaster can drain the magic from any source of life, with a single touch of its blood. The heart, however, as the witches life force, is stronger than any other outlet."
"What does the necklace have to do with it?" Elena asked.
"It's all the magic my mother possessed before her death. Her life source, her blood, engraved into a diamond pendant. Creating it drained her, but wearing it saved me as a child on the brink of death. It's also given my brother a foothold to this century."
Elena blinked, "You're brother? The younger prince? He's here?"
Damon smirked, "He's here alright. Does the name Stefan ring any bells?"
Elena's mouth fell open.
No.
That's impossible.
Right?
Lol a little bit of a cliffhanger.
I love love the next chapter, and can't wait to finish and post it as well!
Hope you guys liked this one!
Let me know whatcha thought.
Damon/Stefan argument.
Delena make out scene...
Where her feelings are coming from...
Elena learning the truth
The necklace...
Review review! :)