AU 1860s, no vampires. Elena is a Gilbert and betrothed to Stefan Salvatore, a man who only truly loves himself and wants to mold her into the perfect wife. Delena

Elena sat there in the drawing room at the Salvatore Mansion, quietly sipping her drink as she had afternoon tea with her betrothed and his father. Damon, the black sheep of the family, was out somewhere with his friends having, she guessed, a good time.

"Your mother told me something amusing yesterday," Stefan said, bringing her attention back to him. "She said you wanted wildflowers at the wedding. Don't worry; I explained that you were having some fun with her and that we would have hothouse flowers like it is in style now."

Elena bit her tongue and took a deep breath. "You did?"

"Yes, she was quite relieved. I think it's amusing that you can work her up over such a ridiculous idea. Wildflowers, like those, would be at a Salvatore/Gilbert wedding."

"You used to bring me wildflowers when we were younger. I thought it was sweet."

She regretted the comment when it started a lecture on growing up and putting childish things away. He explained why it was only proper that now he brought her more dignified flowers. Ones befitting a Lady of her standing and status in the community. She watched as his father looked on in apparent approval of everything Stefan said.

She sipped her tea and tried to look like she was paying attention to his words. She'd heard them all before, so if she was asked a question, she could fumble an appropriate answer.

She thought about what they all had been as children. She had been a bit wild and tended to dirty her dresses while running with the boys. The desire to do that was disciplined out of her. After all, there is just so much even a wild spirit can take before it starts to break.

She wasn't tamed, not really. It was worse. She was still the same free spirit, just one that learned that she had to submit. She wanted freedom but stayed in her cage. It was that or be "a constant disappointment to her family". She could only live with so many cutting remarks. They hurt, and there was no quarter for her to go to and confide her hurt in.

"Elena, what do you think about the Founders Day Dance?" Stefan asked, cutting into her thoughts.

She set her teacup down solemnly and said, "The Lockwoods always have such ostentatious parties. It lacks the dignified taste that would honor the founding families, don't you agree?"

She knew he agreed. They were almost his words exactly; she learned to memorize things like this. It got him talking again and left her alone to her thoughts.

Stefan smiled wide, "Yes, I agree! However, we will attend this year as husband and wife; after all, the wedding is a month and a half away."

She knew what he expected her to say next. "Yes, it was quite clever to have us return from our honeymoon trip right before the party. We will be the talk of the event."

Senior Salvatore smiled and smacked his knee in glee. "Yes, Mayor Lockwood already has to bite his tongue because you'll overshadow his family at the party."

Stefan smiled, "How could we not? I'll have the most beautiful woman on my arm."

She thanked him sweetly and took a sip from her teacup. She then asked, "What color should we wear?"

"I thought it would be obvious," Stefan said and launched into another winding lecture. One that started with what to wear for the Founders Ball and twisted to what she should wear as a wife, and eventually what color conveyed the most dignified palate for a sitting room.

All the while, she thought about her life and what she'd become. She was a Gilbert doll and would soon be a Salvatore doll. Others would dress her, and her every move would be orchestrated by another.

Damon walked into the room loudly and mockingly bowed to her. His lips twitching into a smile erased any offense she would have felt. That was not the case for his father and brother. It turned into a lecture directed at Damon for twenty minutes. It was a relief to Elena. She could fully disengage from what they were saying and let her thoughts drift. She was grateful he unintentionally drew their attention.

She thought about her days as a child before she became the Lady she was. She used to catch frogs and chase the other little girls around with them and listen to them scream.

She smiled at the thought and remembered Damon helping her hide a frog in Lady Lockwood's embroidery basket. When she fainted at the sight of it, he had taken all the blame, making sure no one ever found out Elena had taken part in the prank.

As Damon was lecturing, he winked at her when his brother and father weren't looking. And then it dawned on her it wasn't an accident that he had drawn their attention. He was giving her a break from Stefan's notice.

That made her furious.

After all, how was she supposed to fall out of love with him if he was being so charming to her?

And that one thing, more than anything else, was destroying her daily. She was betrothed to one brother, the golden boy, but she was in love with the other. How was she supposed to live in the same house as him?

The Gilberts and the Salvatores arranged the marriage while she was off visiting her friend one afternoon. She came home to find her world had been destroyed. She was to marry Stefan, the wrong brother.

And while Damon laughed and flirted with other girls, her heart broke further and further. She had no claim to him, and yet he owned her heart wholly. How could she stand by and watch him with other women? Yet, in a month and a half, she would call him brother, and that sickened her.

That afternoon she took a walk in the gardens at the Gilbert Estate. She plucked one flower and twirled it in her fingers. It was a beautiful shade of pink, just like her dress which was why she picked that one.

It was dying now. It still looked beautiful, just as it would if it was still attached to its plant. But the moment she plucked the flower, it would wilt and die. Just like she would the moment she was betrothed to the brother of the man she loved.

She tried to fall in love with Stefan. She really did. It would have been so much easier if he saw anything the way she did. He was a perfect copy of his father, and she was a mask hiding a free spirit. A mask she would have to keep once she married.

She always hoped she'd marry a man that would let her be herself in their own home. She didn't mind behaving in society. She just wanted to have a love that would love the real her.

She adjusted her parasol and peaked at the sun. She wanted to feel the sun on her skin and run through the meadows. But Ladies don't tan, and they don't run.

Funny, it was running that sounded the best to her. She wanted to run away from her life and never look back.

Two and a half weeks later, she was ready to scream. Stefan had gone and undid every change she had made in what was to be their wing of the Salvatore Estate.

She checked the progress because she heard the upholsterers were there, and she almost gasped when she walked into what was to be her sitting room.

She looked around in shock at the fabric; it was so over the top she wanted to puke.

Damon walked in and said, "Stefan made some 'improvements,' he called them. Isn't it atrocious?"

Elena couldn't look at him. His mocking caused her to be furious with him. "I picked something else," she said brokenly. "I really liked the fabric I picked. It… It made me smile. It was just what I was looking for." She hated that he was mocking her pain.

"I can let my dogs in to ruin them all. It would have to be redone."

She shook her head with a tear in her eye. She refused to look at him. She didn't want him to see her so broken up over fabric.

"No, what's the point? He'd choose the fabric again anyway. I can live with this." I have to, she added to herself.

He surprised her and said, "I liked the pattern you picked."

She was able to look at him then and smile at him. "Thank you. It was pretty." She then cast her eyes to the room. "It's better this way anyway."

"And why's that?" his tone challenged her. "Because Stefan picked it?"

She gave a wry smile and said, "It's a secret between me and these walls."

And it was. After all, the walls in that room were the only ones to see her cry. She felt it fitted that the room would reflect what her husband wanted. The room felt hollow, just like she did.

"I can keep a secret," Damon whispered.

"So can I," Elena sassed back. No way would she tell him the truth. 'I love you, Damon,' could never cross her lips.

"Stefan's a lucky man."

"Why?" she asked, confused.

Damon turned to leave, and before he did, he said, "Because he has your love."

The door shut, and the walls saw her cry for a second time.

About a week later, Elena was sitting at her vanity, staring at her reflection in her hand mirror. Her maid had already left, having finished her hair. It was up in the style Stefan preferred. She fiddled with her necklace and contemplated her future. She broke out into a cold sweat.

She thought about the pin money she'd saved up over the years and all the jewelry she had. She knew, even though it added up to quite a bit, it wasn't enough to run away. She smiled, though. It was fun to daydream of running away and never looking back.

Elena then frowned; she would look back, though. Damon had her heart, and she would miss him. But she was honest enough with herself that it would be better to ignore him than be his sister.

She set down her mirror and stood from her vanity. It was time to try to lock up her heart and feelings even further, or she would be a complete wreck.

She swiped away the tears that had fallen down her face and squared her shoulders. She was Elena Gilbert, and she could do anything she put her mind to. She was determined to make that true.

It was at tea three days later that her world shattered further into pieces. Pieces she knew she couldn't move on from. It wasn't anything monumental on the surface, but inside her heart, it echoed and left a huge crack.

Stefan had said, "Well, I was buying your favorite treat, Elena, and I saw this beautiful pillow that would go in your sitting room." He then handed her the pillow, it was hideous. She schooled her features and pretended she didn't want to rip it to shreds.

"Thank you," she lied easily. "It will go perfectly." At least that was the truth.

Damon laughed and shook his head, "You better give her the treat now. That pillow is even turning my stomach."

Stefan held up a bag proudly and passed it to Elena. "I know it's your favorite."

She opened it up and forced a smile. "Butterscotch…" she said noncommittally.

"Yes," he said proudly and pulled one out and ate it. "These are the best ones they had too. Eat one."

Damon laughed, stood, and grabbed the bag out of her hand. "She hates these, little brother, try again. These are your favorites. She used to give you hers when you were kids because she knew you liked them."

"Really?" he asked, confused.

Crack. Her heart broke and left was a chasm, one that ached. Damon remembered and Stefan couldn't. Why such a little thing wrecked her, she didn't know, but it did. Maybe it was the straw that broke the camel's back. Just one more instance that Damon knew more about her than Stefan.

And it dawned on her that neither brother loved her.

Damon was such a flirt and had an easy smile for every woman. She wasn't unique. As she shouldn't be, she reminded herself. She was soon to be the wife of his brother. Why would he look at her as anything other than a sister. That's only what's proper, after all.

She stood and snatched the bag from Damon and ate a candy. "You'd be surprised about what I'm able to do."

Damon looked at her in confusion. After all, her sentence made no sense with what they were discussing.

She sucked on the candy she hated and put on a serene face. She would fake her whole life if she had to.

Damon looked at her steadily from across the room and said, "You're always able to surprise me with what you can endure." That message she received clearly. He then added, "But is that living?"

She laughed bitterly, "What a foolish question." She looked at the vase of flowers across the room, the ones in a slow march towards death. "What makes you think I'm not living? Don't I look alive?" Just like the cut flowers, she added to herself.

He got an unreadable expression on his face, and Stefan drew her attention. He didn't like to be ignored. He gently took the bag for her and said, "Then buying them once we marry can be your job, they are a treat for me after all."

Elena smiled and hardened her heart.

That night she had a panic attack. Granted, she didn't know what it was other than a crippling fear that left her trembling on the floor and feeling like she was dying. Once it passed, she wept into her pillows in despair and heartbreak.

It was during the early hours of the dawn that she realized she couldn't do this anymore. No matter what was going to happen to her, she had to escape. She'd rather live a hell of her own making than a hell she was forced into. At least she would have a choice.

During her tea that next afternoon, she was the calmest she'd ever been. Stefan's remarks and lectures went in one ear and out the other.

As he talked, she plotted. Her jewels and coins were already sewn in seams of a very plain-looking dress. She had a warm dark cloak that would conceal her during the nighttime. She'd even asked a maid to teach her how to light a fire. It took her an hour, and a bit to do it, but in the end, she could start a fire with the two rocks. She had tucked them into her pocket of her traveling cloak. Everything was hidden well under a loose board beneath her bed.

She noticed Damon looked at her funny during the tea, but for the first time she didn't try to discern his thoughts. It didn't matter anymore. Tomorrow she'd be gone and never see either of them again.

When she thought of the pain of not seeing Damon she reminded herself she wouldn't have to see him marry someone else either. She tried to content herself with that.

And now she just had to figure out when was the best time to sneak out of the house. Too early, and she'd get caught, too late, and she wouldn't be far enough away when she was discovered missing.

Elena's whole body trembled with nerves. Every creak or groan of the estate made her jump. She was sure she had been seconds away from getting caught for over an hour now.

She laid in her bed, covered up, in a simple dress and traveling cloak. She was itching to go but terrified to start.

Finally, she steeled her nerves and slipped out of the covers. It was warm tonight, so she slid off the cloak and tucked it under her arm.

She crept down the front stairs quietly. She thought about using the servant's staircase, but she knew it was uneven and squeaked. She didn't want to fall or give herself away.

Once she was in the entry way she quickly made her way to the morning room and over to the window. She had checked earlier, and it had moved with minimal noise. She slid it open far enough to fit through, and she was out of the house.

She didn't close it, she didn't want to risk the extra time, and it wouldn't give away her escape. Her empty bed would do that. She took a deep breath and set off, turning the corner and walking into a wall. Actually, the wall turned out to be Damon. She wanted to cry. She was caught already, and now she'd never escape.

"What are you doing?" He whispered.

She looked up into his eyes and tried to fight her tears. It didn't work. As she started to cry silently, she stuttered, "N-nothing."

He looked at her in total confusion, "You should be in bed."

"Of course, everyone knows what I should and shouldn't be doing," she grumbled. "I'll go back to bed." Her freedom had been snatched out of her hand before it even fully bloomed. She was a cut flower, after all. The Salvatore Mansion would be her vase.

She found it darkly amusing that it would have been a bed of wildflowers if she married one brother, and was a vase when she was to marry the other.

She turned to leave, and he grabbed her arm to halt her. "What were you doing?"

She tried to pull away from his grip, but it didn't work. "Let me go," she hissed.

"What were you doing?" he insisted she tell him.

"I was just going for a walk."

"At midnight, dressed like a servant?"

"Yes, I do it often. Don't worry; I'll stop now. I wouldn't dream of reflecting poorly on the Salvatore name."

Damon spun her to face him and pressed her to the wall. "Try again, Elena. I can tell when you're lying." When she rolled her eyes, he said, "You lie all the time; you don't fool me."

"I don't lie; I'm molding myself into the wife your brother wants."

"You're better when you're not."

At that, she shoved him angrily. "What choice do I have, Damon? What option was given to me? I went out for the afternoon to meet a friend, and I came home engaged. I wasn't even consulted." She shoved him again. "I don't get a choice in my own life. I'm a female Gilbert, and my role is to bring distinction to the family through marriage. I'm to be the perfect Lady, shut up, and lay on my back to make an heir!"

"The perfect Lady doesn't go for midnight walks. Who are you running off to meet?" He pressed.

She laughed in his face. The only man she'd sneak out for was accusing her of having a liaison. "No one."

"Lies!"

She was afraid the volume of his voice would alert someone else, so she gave in. It didn't matter anyway. He'd figure it all out. Her dreams of escape had gone up in smoke.

"The truth is that I was running away. I wasn't running to a man; I'm running away from one —your brother."

He stepped back and looked at her in shock. "You're what?"

"Running away."

"You don't love him?"

"You claim to see through all my lies, and you can't see through the most obvious one? No, I don't love him." Tears leaked from her eyes again. "Please, if you ever saw me as a friend at all, don't tell anyone. Give me your word, and I'll give you mine that I won't run away. You won't need to tell anyone…. Please?"

He looked deep into her eyes, "You don't love my brother?" he repeated.

She felt utterly broken again. "I already answered that." She slipped her cloak back on and turned towards the house. "And now you have the power to tell everyone what I've done."

"Tried to run away?"

"Yes, how many times do I have to say it!?"

"But the Elena I know fights."

"The girl you knew fought. The woman has learned through bitter lessons to obey. There are only so many times my mother can cry, saying she's ashamed of me before I start to bend. And so many times, I can hear I'm a disappointment from my father before I break. The girl you knew didn't make it through childhood."

"I still see her sometimes lurking beneath the surface."

"And then your brother works to snuff her out." She sighed. "The truth is the girl still was struggling to hold on. She tried to run away."

She hardened her face and forced herself not to cry. "Tonight, she disappeared. Tonight, the woman remains. I can't continue down my path and still try to hold onto who I am."

She shut her eyes and breathed out. It felt like a chill settled into her bones. "I apologize for detaining you from wherever you were going. I'm sure I'll see you at tea today." She took one step back and pictured herself as a little girl running off into the woods on an adventure. The girl that wasn't coming back. The one she wished a long, happy life as she faced her suffocating future.

Damon pressed her body up against the wall again. "No, that's not enough, Elena. I need more of an explanation from you."

She spoke from the bottom of her broken heart. "Tell me what you want, and it's yours."

"I thought you loved my brother, but he annoyed you sometimes."

"What's the question? I already said I don't love him," she spoke as she felt inside. Her words were hollow and aching.

"You don't want to marry him?"

"No," she answered without hesitation.

"Why are you?"

"I'm a woman and the rightful property of my father; he signed the contract, and I don't have a choice. Well… I tried to run away, but that didn't work."

He hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look up at him. He then asked, "Have you ever loved any man?"

She closed her eyes and then slowly opened them and locked eyes with him. "I promised I would tell you anything, so I will answer you. I love one man, soon, very soon, I will call him brother, and it will absolutely destroy me."

"Like hell, you will!" he pressed his body against hers, fisted her hair, and forced her head back. He then covered her lips with his hot ones, thrust his tongue onto her mouth, and devoured her. He let a low growl emanate from him. It was one of possession and desire.

He pulled back and said, "Say you love me."

"I love you, Damon, you and only you."

"He doesn't get to have you. You're mine." He then kissed her wildly again. She molded into his body, and he loved the feeling of her clinging to him.

"Runaway with me. I won't ask you to be anything other than the amazing person you are. Hold onto who you were as a child. I began to love you all the way back then."

"Don't mess with me, Damon," she scolded. "I know you flirt with all the-"

He cut her off with a kiss. He then said, "I flirt with them all because I couldn't have the one woman I wanted. They were a poor distraction from you. Every smile I got from them sickened me. It wasn't your beautiful smile, the one I desperately wanted. I love you; I've only ever loved you. Ever since I was a boy, I dreamed of marrying you once I was a man—Runaway with me."

"Yes, one thousand times yes. I'm yours and always have been."

He pulled her with him toward the Salvatore house. "There is a benefit to being 'the screw-up'. They all expect awful behavior from me." He hid her in the shadows and ordered the carriage. The staff didn't even attempt to argue. He then gathered Elena and made sure her cloak entirely concealed her.

Three hours later, they were two towns away, buying passage on a stagecoach after he sent the carriage back home.

"We can marry once we make the next stop," Damon said happily. "Then we can make our way anywhere. I have money in the bank my father doesn't know about and can't access. I'm much better at making money than he believes."

"And I have jewelry and money hidden in my dress," she whispered.

"Keep the jewelry. If I couldn't have supported us, I wouldn't have run away with you yet. I would have stolen you away closer to the wedding."

"Ugh, that awful wedding," she moaned.

"I know I hated everything about it." He pulled her onto his lap and rested his forehead against hers. "I thought this could only ever be a dream. I thought you loved him."

"I tried to, but with you there, it was impossible. In the end, I hated him. So I had decided that I would run from my marriage and the man I didn't think I could ever have."

"You own all of me, Elena. I've loved you since I was a boy."

She rested in his arms and smiled. "I never believed I could be this happy."

"I'll work to make you happy every day of your life."

She laughed, "It won't be any work. I have your love; that's all I could ask for."

"Elena, you tempt me when you sit like this."

"You pulled me into your lap."

He caressed her cheek, "I know. I was taking advantage of the situation. That's the kind of guy I am."

She moved and straddled his lap. "So was I."

Damon groaned and pulled her tightly against his chest and looked down at her breasts. "I'm trying to be a gentleman."

"No, you're not," she replied, smiling at him. "And if you were, I'd be disappointed. I'm running away with you. Surely that shows you I'm up to rebel."

He locked eyes with her, "I love you and I'm committed to you for the rest of our lives. That said," he then grabbed a breast in his hand. "I've wanted to touch your boobs for so dang long."

Pleasure she'd never known sang through her body and ignited the ember of the fire burning in her to an inferno. "Teach me how to please you." She tried to force the thought of other women touching him out of her head. It made her sick to her stomach.

He whispered in her ear. "I touched myself thinking of you constantly. Your name was on my lips when I found my release. I might have flirted, but I refused to have another woman until you made it to my brother's bed. I'm a fool, and I hoped that I could bring you to mine."

"You're not a fool, Damon."

"I felt like one. The afternoon after you married, I was going to work my way through the whorehouse until you returned from your honeymoon."

She grabbed his hair and tugged on it. "Mine. You won't touch another woman."

He grabbed her butt and said, "All I want is you. I was going to call them all by your name as I had them. Why would I want a substitute for you when I can get you in my bed?"

He pressed his forehead to hers again. "I didn't want to think of you with my brother."

"Trust me, neither do I!"

Damon chuckled and had her shift and lifted up her dress so he could rest his hands on her bare thighs as she straddled him. "You always acted like such a Lady. I can't believe I have you like this."

She whispered seductively into his ear, "You can go further. Once I knew you wanted to touch me, I couldn't resist you. It was your brother who I didn't want touching me."

He nibbled on her exposed breasts, and she panted out a breath. It was so erotic she felt herself growing wet. He then whispered into her ear, "I want everything you're willing to give to me, Elena."

"Then have all of me. I give you everything I have, Damon, my body, and my love."

He yanked down her bodice and her breasts spilled out and he took a nipple into his mouth. She moaned and rocked her core against his cock. She acted on instinct and bone-deep need. He fisted her hair, pulled to arch her back, and pressed her breasts firmly into his face, and he played with her nipples. She began rocking against his hardness, moaning. "This feels amazing," she whispered, giving herself over to the pleasure she felt.

Damon knew he was playing with fire, and he loved it. He wanted to dance with her burning desire and get consumed by it. As one hand held her hair to press her breasts to his face the other went up her skirt and grabbed her butt, and encouraged her to rock against his hard cock. He ached to be inside of her.

He then felt Elena grip his shoulders and rock against him harder and faster. "Damon, please tell me, what's happening to me?"

"This is the beginning of the pleasure a man and woman can feel together. The kind you hear whispers about, but have never been truly told about."

"It's… so amazing. Damon, I need…."

He grabbed her butt with both hands and rocked with her rhythm hard. "Oh!" She screamed.

He whispered seductively into her ear, "This is only the beginning. Let me bring you to bliss, and then once I get you alone, I'll show you even more pleasure."

"I can't….! I can't imagine anything better."

He helped her rock against him faster and said, "I'll get you naked, and you'll see. This is just the appetizer wait until you get the whole meal."

She rode him until she orgasmed, and he followed along with her. He knew he'd have to clean up before the wedding, but right now, he was happier than he could have ever imagined being. Elena was looking at him in shock, looking so sated and so pleasured. She was disheveled and looked the sexiest he'd ever seen her.

Most of all she was his.

"Elena, I'm going to marry you and then show you what sex is like. I've done a lot of erotic reading, and I have so many things I want to do to you."

"I want them all. That was… I didn't know anything could feel like that."

"Damn, the things you say drive me wild. I can't wait to teach you all the things we can do together."

She rested on his chest, "I want it all."

The stagecoach drew to a stop, and he helped her right her clothes enough so it wouldn't be obvious what they were doing. He couldn't wait until they were married.