Yay! I finally found time to post this chapter! So firstly, thank you everyone, for being amazing! Secondly, I'm taking an Empires and Revolutions course this year and we're lookin at the American Revolution right now, and in particular the issues surronding The Abolition Movement. Some serious debating was going on, but after reading some of the primary documents I feel like I've gotten a clearer picture of what life was like back then for slaves and freeborns (and being of African decent myself, trust me when I say some of those documents are hell-a hard to get through). So I've decided to try not to shy away from the ugly truth of the situation as much as I have been, though I won't be making it my focus either.
Food For Thought: Looking over this story, I'm not really happy with the pacing. I would have definitely slowed it down if I wasn't so impatient. As it is, Bonnie still sees Damon as two different people: Human Damon and Vampire Damon. Eventually she's going to have to realize that despite the huge attitude change, they are in fact the same person. I don't know how well she's going to handle that... or when she'll even have to deal with it, but something tells me it will be sooner rather than later. Especially with my pacing issues...
P.S. Did anyone else love how incredible BADASS Bonnie was in today's episode? She's so awesome!
The noise in the open aired market was overwhelming. It was nothing like the city's noise pollution with engines from cars and the constant hum of electrical current being feed through the ground. No, in some ways this noise was bigger. The sound of hooves and carriage wheels moving up and down dirt ridden streets; children running through the skirts of their mothers as they made their purchases; a crier trying to sell the paper; voices... just so many voices as people called out to each other and merchants tried to entice passers-by.
It was a noise full of life something the likes of which Bonnie had never heard before. She followed Emily through the bustling small town street towards what looked to be an apothecary. Speeding up slightly she caught Emily's elbow right before the front door.
"I thought we agreed today there'd be no witchy stuff." She said leaning in to ensure no one overheard her.
She could feel Emily tense beneath her fingers as she turned to her. "Yes. I'm aware of that, but it would seem I had forgotten I'm almost out of oregano when I made that promise. It will only take a moment."
Bonnie studied her as Emily looked intently at the children playing in the street. There was a tickling in the back of her mind that told her something was off. "Why are you lying to me?"
Emily turned her powerful gaze to her, her mouth a thin line as she had some sort of internal debate. Glancing away, she sighed before giving Bonnie her full attention. Pulling her away from the door of the store and back towards the crowd, she spoke in hushed tones, "If you must know, Miss Katherine discovered I was heading to town and asked me to relay a message for her."
Bonnie's brow pulled together. "And that requires a trip to the druggist's?"
"Yes it does. You may wait out here if you wish."
"No, I'm coming with you."
Following closely behind her, they made their way through the door of the apothecary. The tinkling of bells alerted the owner to their presence.
"Emily. So good to see you. Is Miss Katherine with you?" Greeted the young woman standing behind the long implement laden counter.
Bonnie felt something weigh down on her mind as she stared at the girl. There was something extremely familiar about her. She was almost positive she had seen her before somewhere – perhaps in a picture?
"Good morning, Miss Annabelle."
Bonnie's spine snapped straight as the pieces fit together. This was the vampire that had held her prisoner along with Ben. This was Anna. Heart pounding painfully in her chest Bonnie could feel anger and wounded pride lapping at her insides calling for vindication.
Obviously aware of the sudden change of heart rate, Anna studied Bonnie curiously out of the corner of her eye as Emily continued to speak. "Miss Katherine is at the estate. I was hoping to speak with your mother, is she here?"
Turning her attention away from Bonnie she answered, "Mama has just stepped out. She is meeting with Mr. Gilbert."
"How unfortunate."
Bonnie struggled to stay calm, turning away to examine the assortment of herbs and strange bottled ornaments while she listened intently to their conversation.
"Surely not all is lost. Perchance I could be of some assistance?"
"Of course. Miss Katherine has a message for your mother."
"What is it?"
Bonnie looked over her shoulder just in time to catch Emily doing the same in her direction. Their eyes met for a second before Bonnie looked back towards the shelves. She wasn't surprised when Emily lowered her voice to an indecipherable whisper.
"Of course. I will tell my mother as soon as she returns."
"Thank you, Miss Annabelle. Bonnie?" Bonnie turned to find Emily watching her expectantly. "Shall we?"
Throwing one last glance in Anna's direction, she nodded her head and followed Emily back into the busy street. She waited until she believed they were far enough from the store before asking, "What was the message?"
Emily didn't even bother to look at her as she replied, "Nothing that concerns you."
"You don't think I should know?"
She stopped then causing Bonnie to almost walk into her. "No, Bonnie, I do not. I think it would be best that you keep separate from the affairs of this time and that they proceed without your interference."
Bonnie tried to swallow around the sudden lump in her throat as Emily peered at her with serious eyes. An irrational foghorn of she knows, she knows blared in her head, but she pushed it roughly aside and offered up a thin smile.
"Yeah, you're probably right. So... I thought we came here to do some shopping. Let's get to it."
Emily's serious expression softened out with a smile as she hooked her arm with Bonnie's and lead her further down the street. They stopped occasionally to browse a stall or peer into a store window. There were certain stores that Emily warned Bonnie never to enter unless with someone from the main house or the strictest orders from Mr. Salvatore. When Bonnie had asked why, Emily had simply looked at her sadly and smiled, saying, "It is rather unlikely that you should have to concern yourself with such matters. My words were simply a precaution."
And that is all that she would say on the subject.
Bonnie startled at the sudden feel of Emily's hand wrapping itself around her wrist as she yanked her across the street towards a half-covered stall with enough force to momentarily unbalance her. Emily shot a look over her shoulder before picking up a random shawl and scrutinizing it. Bonnie could feel her brow furrow in confusion as she watched Emily study the shawl with a little too much interest.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She answered, perhaps a little too quickly. Peeking at her from the corner of her eye, she smiled lightly, "Everything is fine."
"Then why did you almost pull my arm out of its socket to drag me over here?"
"No reason." She replied easily, almost even convincingly, if it had not been for the fact that she was looking over her shoulder discretely at something across the street.
Bonnie attempted to follow her gaze, but couldn't see anything the least bit threatening. "What are we looking at?"
"No one." She said resolutely as she dragged her eyes back to the shawl.
"We're looking at a person?"
"No, we are not."
"Are they dangerous?" Bonnie asked, feeling something slide into the pit of her stomach at the thought.
Emily laughed and chanced another look back at the person before answering, "No."
Again Bonnie tried to follow her gaze and this time she was infinitely more successful. There, across the way, stood a tall, dark man. He was young, with strong features and a very pleasant smile dressed in rather plain attire but clearly not thread bare. There was good chance he was a freeman. Altogether, he was very handsome.
Realization spread through her as slowly as the Cheshire grin grew upon her face.
"Who is he?"
"Who is who?"
"The man you keep throwing glances at."
"No one of importance." Emily responded, beginning to fold and unfold the shawl distractedly.
"Are you sure?"
"Quite. Now would you please refrain from staring? It's impolite."
Bonnie just managed to squelch the urge to 'aww' at the slight blush painting Emily's cheeks. "Are you afraid my staring will draw his attention?"
"Of course not. As I said, it is impolite."
"You know," Bonnie began slowly, taking a step away from the stall, "I think I'd like to meet this guy of no importance."
"NO!" Emily shouted, her hand a vise around Bonnie's arm in an effort to keep her planted. People had turned to find the source of the sudden noise and Emily quickly looked over at the man who was now watching her with interest before turning back to the stall and whispering harshly, "No. I believe it would be best if that were not to occur... perhaps we should head back to the estate."
"Right, yeah, sure."
On their way back down the street Bonnie couldn't resist stealing one last glimpse of the mystery man. There was a good chance she had just seen her great-great grandfather.
It had been two weeks since Bonnie and Damon had made up the signal, and it had worked surprisingly well to that point. Bonnie had been curious to see whether or not Damon would remember the melody initially, so the first time they had passed each other in the hallway and she had heard him humming the tune to himself, a sly smile on his lips all the while, she had been surprised and taken over by residual embarrassment.
In the time past they had managed to meet each other five times which was quite the feat considering how infrequently they saw one another. The few times she happened upon him recently he was always in the company of someone else – most often Stefan and/or Katherine. But despite these minor setbacks Damon had found a way to hum the tune inconspicuously enough to draw no one's attention but hers.
Bonnie herself had yet to do any humming, not that Damon seemed to notice or mind, and regardless of the fact that she knew deep in her bones that it was a bad idea she always met up with him when he gave the signal.
The spring night air was refreshing after the heat of the day, and Bonnie relished the feeling of the slight breeze against her cheeks as she and Damon continued to walk the grounds aimlessly. She snuck a peek at him from the corner of her eye and had to bit her lip again to stop from laughing, "So why did you decide to wear that hat again?"
"I've told you: I recently purchased it and would like to get as much use out of it as possible."
"Aren't hats meant to protect you from the sun?"
"Yes..."
"You do realize it's the middle of the night, right? Hence no sun."
"Yes, Bonnie," He said, rolling his eyes, "I'm quite aware of the time of day. Hats are not simply for protection. They're rather fashionable as well."
Maybe if it hadn't been for the snooty tone he used Bonnie would have been able to bit her lip to keep from laughing again, but try as she might she couldn't suppress the fit of mirth from bubbling over.
He turned to her, irritation flickering in his clear eyes. "What is so amusing? Does my hat offend you?"
"No, it's great." She managed after a moment, "It's just... I've never seen you wear one before."
"Oh."
She watched the irritation dissipate as he pulled his shoulders back until his posture was impeccable and lifted his chin imperceptibly. "And?" he asked expectantly.
Bonnie squinted as she took in all his features in half-light the moon provided. She had to admit he was gorgeous no matter what he wore, that was a given, but the hat seemed wrong somehow... in a very cute, endearing way. It looked kind of awkward.
She hadn't realized she had been scrunching up her face until Damon spoke.
"That bad?"
"No! It's just – I think... I think I prefer you without it."
He took the hat off to study it despondently in his hands. "I quite like this hat."
"It is a great hat."
"So long as I'm not wearing it." He added darkly.
"I never said that."
"You did not need to."
He continued to play with hat in his hands, seeming unsure what else to do with it and Bonnie sighed suddenly frustrated with herself. Why couldn't she have just lied and said she liked it?
"Damon, I'm sure it's fine. I'm just biased. I don't like hats."
"At all?" He asked, confusion pulling at his brow.
"At all."
"Why ever not?"
"Because they don't suit me. I can't wear them, so I suppose I've grown resentful of anyone who can."
"Like me?" He asked, the corner of his mouth sneaking up slightly.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she answered, "Yes, like you."
"I find that difficult to believe. I imagine you would be well suited for a hat." He offered, his gaze fixed to the object in question as he continued to twirl it idly.
Bonnie shook her head to herself, knowing exactly what he was beating at. She breathed out heavily before snatching the hat out of his hands and placing it upon her head. Holding the offending object down with one hand she asked, "Do I look well?"
His smile grew as he took in the picture she made. His eyes though, seemed to soften and a stillness entered his frame as if he were afraid to breath and ruin the image. Bonnie felt her hand slowly float its way back down to her side, unable to look away even as self-consciousness began to eat at the corners of her mind. Finally, after what felt an eternity he breathed, "Quite well."
Somehow managing to tear her gaze away from his she searched the open night air for something to ease the sudden tension. "Right, so... you won't mind if I keep it then?"
"My hat?" His eyebrows shot skyward momentarily before he narrowed his gaze at her, his smile never fading. "What of your aversion to all things chapeau?"
"This hat is special."
"Oh? How so?" He took a few slow steps forward, shortening the distance between them. Bonnie focused on the slight curl of his hair against his forehead.
"Well you know, it's a rare thing when I look quite well in a hat so I'm not about to throw it away when I do."
"Well if that is the case, I may be inclined to part with it... for a price."
Her eyes found his and once more she was struck by how blue they were even as she noticed the spark of mischief flashing in their depths. "What price is this?"
"You."
Bonnie's heart stopped before kicking into double time as he stepped forward, eradicating the space between them. Frozen in place, her mind raced in incomprehension. What? What is he saying? What?
"You, Bonnie, have to declare before the very heavens that although you may look quite well in my hat, I look infinitely better."
Her breath left her in a rush as relief swept through every pore, making her laugh light-heartedly. She shook her head slightly at her own foolishness. For a second there I thought... what a way to jump to conclusions, Bonnie.
Composing herself, she said, "I would, but I think lying is considered a sin."
His smile, if possible, got even wider. "Then I suppose you shall have to return my hat."
He raised his arm between them, his palm facing up as he waited for her to relinquish the item. She was struck be the familiarity of the moment to that of a time when she had barely known Damon except as the manipulative ex of one of her best friends.
She lifted the hat off her head, but made no move to give it to him. Instead she made a great show of looking at it thoughtfully, enjoying the feel of the course material against her fingers. Not that she'd ever admit this out loud, but Human Damon wasn't... all bad. He was actually kind of fun to be around... when he wasn't being a nuisance, which of course was rare. It was a difficult thing to reconcile, that she might actually enjoy his company and so she revelled any opportunity she got to antagonize him in the slightest. It seemed to quiet her conscience to a whisper.
"Nah," she said, lifting her good shoulder with practised nonchalance, "I think I'll keep it."
"You know, stealing is a sin as well."
"If we're comparing evils, I figure it weighs less than that massive lie you wanted me to tell."
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
"Or maybe the lady is protesting just enough."
"Bonnie..."
The way he said her name sent warning bells blaring in between her ears and an uncomfortable sensation up and down her spine. She eyed him with suspicion, taking in the tension in his frame. He looked like a tightly coiled spring waiting to snap and that impish gleam in his eyes seemed ten times brighter.
"Damon... Whatever you're thinking: don't."
But she had barely managed to get the words out before he made a mad-grab for the hat. Just twisting out of reach, she turned on her heel and dashed into the darkened field. She could feel the tall grass tickling her ankles as she ran past and hear the wind whistling in her ears, muffling the sounds of Damon's laughter and footsteps echoing behind her.
A time or two she was certain she felt the ghost of his fingertips against her back through the cotton of her dress. Each time, she would discover a reserve of energy and speed up out of his grasp, leaving an increasingly winded Damon in her wake. She hadn't run like this in ages. It felt good. So good in fact, that she almost didn't stop when Damon called out in defeat.
"I concede! My hat... is now... yours." He managed through laboured breaths. If it wasn't for the light of the moon reflecting off his white shirt she probably wouldn't have been able to make him out bent over the way he was, his hands resting on his knees for support before he just let himself flop onto the ground.
"It was as if you were flying... the way you moved. I've... I've never seen anything..." He spoke up and out into the night sky.
Bonnie enjoyed the lingering sensation in her muscles from the run for a moment longer before making her slow way over to Damon's languid form. He looks exhausted, she thought, not even bothering to fight her amusement at seeing him this way. Gently, she nudged his foot with her own until he was looking at her.
"You shouldn't lie down after running. It's not good."
"It feels good."
Rolling her eyes she placed her hat back on her head before reaching out her hand towards him. "Get up."
He studied her hand for a long moment. The longer he took, the more she considered withdrawing her hand until finally he let out the most bone-tired sigh she had ever heard and placed his hand in hers, allowing her to help him to his feet.
Once standing his eyes drifted to her broken arm and he groaned. "And you have an injured arm. I was beaten by a woman with an injured arm."
Bonnie shook her head in exasperation. Of course he would think being beaten by a girl is a big deal. Typical.
She jumped suddenly when his face became level with hers, blue boring into green as he spoke in measured tones, "Speak of this to no one."
She glared at him, her lips pulling down into a frown. "Who would I even tell?"
"Are not you and Emily close?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. When all she did was mirror his expression he continued, "I have noticed you with her on more than one occasion."
That's a little weird, she thought, considering I rarely get to speak to Emily outside of her room. But she chose not to comment. Instead she said, "Trust me. Emily is the last person I would tell."
Well actually Katherine was the last person she would tell, but she couldn't very well say that. Speaking of Katherine... She bit her lip as she contemplated the stupidity of her opening that particular can of worms. Taking a few tentative steps in no real direction, she waited for Damon to catch up before diving in.
"How long has Miss Katherine been here for?"
Taken aback by the sudden change in topic, Damon's face tugged in confusion, but he answered nonetheless. "About two months, if I recall correctly."
"And do you know how long she's staying for?"
His eyes narrowed at her, trying to understand. "As long as she wishes. Her parents and estate were lost in the fires in Atlanta. She has no one else. My father was gracious enough to take her in and I am certain he has no intention of letting her leave until proper arrangements have been made... Why the sudden interest in Miss Katherine?"
"Oh, no reason. I just find her very..." Manipulative? Deceitful? Struggling to come up with any positive adjectives, Bonnie decided to let her sentence trail off. "What do you think of Miss Katherine?"
"Me?" His eyebrows rose to kiss his hairline and he let his eyes wander around the dark, empty field. "She is... She is a woman of many talents."
What is that supposed to mean? Her eyes drilled into the side of his head as he continued to avert his gaze. Try as she might she couldn't stop herself from asking, "What sort of talents?"
"For instance," he began slowly, seeming to test out each word before he said it, "she is surprisingly good at... football."
"Football?"
"Yes. It's this sport I learned –"
"I know what football is."
"You do?" He looked at her then, his eyes wide as he evaluated her.
Ignoring the little buzz of panic that shot through her at the fact that maybe she wasn't supposed to know what football was, she surprised herself more than him when she asked, "What else is she good at? I mean, you said talents, so I'm assuming there's more than one."
Why could she not let this go?
"Yes. She also... She..."
There was a heavy pause before he concluded, "Perhaps talent isn't the word I should have used. "
He looked around again briefly before continuing, "But, she is very... charming, and courageous, and knowledgeable and not at all meek, or modest. She doesn't cower from speaking of politics or current affairs. She exhibits wit, and elegance and grace, but doesn't doddle on vainly about lace and jewels like other women do. Indeed, sometimes I believe she is every inch what a lady should be."
She hadn't noticed they had stopped moving until then, when she couldn't bring herself to look at him any longer and instead fixed her eyes on her shoes. She had never heard anyone speak so passionately about another person before. It left her with a dark feeling in the centre of her chest, like a void.
"You seem really fond of her."
"I do hold her in very high regard."
The void in her chest expanded. It was wrong that Katherine could have such pull over Stefan and Damon. If there was a way Bonnie could open Damon's eyes to Katherine's games before he was actually in love with her, she had to do it. Closing her eyes against the void, she licked her lips before saying the words she knew she'd come to regret.
"Miss Katherine isn't all that she seems."
Even with her eyes closed she could sense Damon stiffening beside her. Maybe I shouldn't do this?
No. She had to try.
"And you would know this how?"
Opening her eyes, she brought them to chest level, noticing his shirt was unbuttoned – as always – in a way that she still thought should be inappropriate for the time period. Concentrating on that and not the way his eyes were boring into her she continued, "I know women like Katherine. They're beautiful and enthralling and they know it. They use it to get what they want and destroy whatever gets in their way."
"Miss Katherine is one of the most understanding –"
"Of course she is. That's what she does. She makes people believe she's this angel but really she's just playing with people –"
"Bonnie."
"The entire world is her plaything and she doesn't care who she hurts as long as she gets her way. The truth is –"
"Bonnie, stop."
"She doesn't care about anyone else. She certainly doesn't care about you no matter what she would have you believe, 'cause if she did she wouldn't be fooling around with your brother –"
"BONNIE!"
His voice ran through her words like steel, silencing her completely. She had never heard him use that tone before, not even as a vampire.
"I realize our encounters are often unorthodox and I have allowed you great liberties in my presence, but I will ask you to refrain from speaking of Miss Katherine in this way ever again."
He was completely still as he spoke, his posture the stiffest she had ever seen, his features drawn tight in disapproval. The words he used were polite, but the tone was anything but. It was sharp and chastising, as if he expected her to feel ashamed.
Bonnie's head fell against her chest, suddenly too heavy to hold up and the void grew larger. This was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous! And so was she. She was in the right, she just had to make him see it. Resolutely, she lifted her head and opened her mouth to try and talk some sense into him but he cut her off before she could.
"Remember who you are and to whom you are speaking to."
It was like a punch to the gut and suddenly the void was all consuming, enveloping her completely and leaving her feeling oddly hollow. She had never been spoken to in such a way and it took all her restraint to not retaliate – not to hit him back harder. Something on her face must have given way to the attack that she was feeling because the ice melted from Damon's eyes and clouded into regret. He bowed his head then, no longer able to make eye contact. His voice was quiet when he spoke.
"Bonnie, I... Goodnight, Bonnie."
Watching him turn and walk away, his shoulders slumped forward, Bonnie swore in frustration. She figured the conversation would end badly, but nothing like this had crossed her mind. Uncertain of whether she even wanted him to respond she called after him. "Damon!"
When he continued to walk without acknowledging her she swore she saw a spark somewhere to her left. But when she looked there was nothing but darkness. "Fuck!" She yelled certain he was too far away to hear her anymore.
A tall oak loomed in the darkness a few feet in front of her and she dragged herself to it, resting her head against the rough bark for support. She had never felt so in conflict with herself before. Her emotions were tumultuous and volatile. She was frustrated, insulted, confused and beyond everything else, absolutely livid! She wanted to scream from the very core of her essence. So she did.
It ripped from her centre and filled the darkening night sky as the moon was lost behind a thick curtain of black clouds. She pounded her fist against the bark of the tree, not caring if she wound up with blisters tomorrow. She ignored the soreness as her fist continued to meet the unrelenting tree as she imagined Damon's face.
"You stupid – asshat! You – bastard! What a – fucking – fuck face!" She screamed again, and somewhere overhead thunder joined into her cry.
How dare he talk to her like that! How dare he treat her like she was inferior! Like she had no rights! How dare he make her feel like she should be ashamed!
Her fist slowed against the trunk until it came to a stop and she leaned once more against it, her good arm winding its way as far around the wide oak as it could as if seeking comfort from an embrace.
God, what a mess. She was angry at Damon for being such a giant douche bag... but she was kind of aggravated with herself for bringing the taboo subject up to begin with. What did she expect to happen? For them to sit down and talk about it like adults? They didn't know each other that well and Katherine was a sensitive subject no matter the era. For fuck sake, he would spend the next 145 years pining over her. Did she really think she'd be able to be like, 'Hey, maybe you shouldn't do that. She isn't really worth it.'
And as much as it sickened her to acknowledge it, if she were going to look at things realistically he had been rather respectful in his reprimanding her.
A shudder rocked its way down her body as the first few drops started to fall from the sky. She turned away from the tree, letting her back come into contact with the trunk. What an awful place, that she could consider his treatment of her even remotely kind... "I just want to go home." She whispered as the rain took on a steady pace and lightning danced in her periphery.
But the worst part of it all was that Katherine had won. Katherine had won without even trying.