I disclaim everything.
FINALLY! I'm finally done this Godforsaken chapter! GAH! Remind me never to write a chapter without Damon in it again. It nearly killed me.
I have to send a special shout out to Izzie123, 'cause she thought I wouldn't read her review - crazy girl! I read each and every review I receive because every single one is important to me. It's you guys that help me to write this story. You inspire me, get me threw my writer's blocks, keep me wanting to do better. Your continued support (even with my stupid large breaks between chapters) has been more than anyone can ask for. I cannot thank you guys enough. I have the best readers in the world!
Just to let you know, there is a letter at the end of this chapter with bits of it in brackets. Those bits orginally had a single line stroked throw them to give the effect that the writer had crossed those lines out, but Fanfiction does have that option so I had to improvise. Hopefully it's not confusing when you read it.
FFT - Katherine may be distracted in this chapter, but don't worry, she's like an elephant - she never forgets.
A week later Bonnie sat within the small servant's dining area. It was fairly makeshift and jumbled. None of the tables looked quite like they belonged or like they could even hold very much weight. Some looked to be on their last leg, metaphorically speaking, as if someone had been in the process of throwing them out before changing their mind and putting them here instead. The benches weren't much better off. They were all different sizes and some of them wobbled precariously.
Not to mention many of both the tables and benches were splintered and stained darkly with bits of old food, and Bonnie was mindful not to touch any area that looked like it could potentially come away with her. Neither Tide nor Resolve were available in 1864 and hand washing her clothes was a pain enough as it was.
The room was of course segregated and, though the tables on the other end of the small space looked equally as disarrayed and mismatched, she couldn't help but notice they seemed a little sturdier... and less splintered.
Bonnie drew her attention back down to her meal of plain grits and groaned internally. She didn't know how much longer she could do this. Not that she didn't like grits; they were a staple of the south – it was like ingrained in her DNA to like them, but she didn't care for them plain... and these were plainer than plain. It was like they didn't put enough salt or butter or something and it just made them: blah.
What she wouldn't give for a bowl of spicy shrimp on tomato grits from The Grille. Or a pulled-pork burger with chipotle sauce, fried onions and curly fries... or a Chicken Zinger Wrap with that ranch dressing she loved so much.
Bonnie quickly swiped at the drool trying to escape the corner of her mouth and glared down at her plate of grits. Yeah, this was just not happening today.
As soon as she got back to her own time, the first stop she was making was The effing Grille. Fact.
The bench wobbled briefly before settling as Gladys sat beside her. Gladys grabbed her free hand and brought it under the table before pressing something cold into her palm and closing Bonnie's fingers around it.
Leaning in close, Gladys whispered, "Don't let dem ones see ya." She titled her head slightly to indicate the other side of the room.
Bonnie nodded her understanding and looked down at the thinly sliced mutton cutlets she now held. Moving discretely, she placed them in her lap and broke them into tiny pieces then popped one in her mouth and hummed.
The roasted, lightly salted meat was delicious – especially when compared to plain grits.
"I love you, Gladys," Bonnie stated once she had swallowed her mouthful.
"Too right ya do," Gladys smiled back, showing off both the slight gap between her front teeth and her dimples.
Bonnie ate the rest of her mutton quickly, talking to Gladys about everything and nothing, and listening as the woman regaled her with exploits from the kitchens.
Since Bonnie and Emily made it a point to avoid one another in public as much as possible, Bonnie had originally eaten all her meals by herself.
Then one day, after several sporadic meetings around the grounds and occasionally in the kitchens, Gladys had plopped down beside Bonnie and started eating her meal. Now they ate every meal together, no questions. Bonnie would be lying if she said she wasn't grateful for the company. Not only was Gladys funny, she was insightful and almost always in a good mood – in some ways she reminded Bonnie of Caroline with her positivity and that was always welcome, though it made her homesick.
Plus, sometimes Gladys snuck her a small portion of food that was being made for the household meal and that was pretty awesome.
Beside her, Gladys shivered unexpectedly and brought herself closer to the table, hunching her shoulders to make herself smaller.
Bonnie frowned. "What's wrong?"
Not turning her head, Gladys whispered from the side of her mouth, "Thomas."
Keeping her actions casual, Bonnie glanced slowly across the room until she spotted the man in question in all his pallid glory. He was sneering fiercely in their direction, but what sent the chill running down her spine was the contemplation in his eyes. She really hoped she never found out what it was that he might be thinking.
Bonnie had made it a habit, since Damon had been away, to wander over to the stables and visit Lenore after her work was done for the day.
Standing there on the hay strewn dirt floor, resting against one of the tall wooden posts, Bonnie watched Lenore shift about in her stall. The tall, majestic mare seemed restless as she leveled her long-lashed doe eyes accusingly at Bonnie.
Bonnie narrowed her own eyes in response. "I don't know why you're looking at me like that. I didn't send him away. You'd think you'd be grateful for the company."
Lenore snorted and turned her head to face away.
"Fine," she whispered. "I'll make it a point not to visit you tomorrow."
Lenore whinnied and paced in one spot. Bonnie pretended not to be offended.
Lenore had been in a mood ever since Damon had left and every visit Bonnie had paid the mare had ended in much the same way. Animals were smarter than most people gave them credit for and Bonnie wouldn't be surprised if Lenore could sense that Damon was no longer on the estate and somehow attributed this absence to Bonnie. Possibly because the last person Lenore had seen Damon with was Bonnie...
But maybe that was giving a little too much credit to the horse.
Then again, it would explain the cold shoulder she was receiving.
Bonnie made a show of polishing the apple she had been hiding in the folds of her skirt against her chest. "I guess you don't want this apple I got for you then. I guess I'll just have to eat it myself."
Lenore remained unimpressed.
"It took a lot of effort to get this apple... a lot of effort. I'm really going to enjoy eating it," Bonnie teased before holding it out in front of her. "Unless... you wanted it?"
Lenore's focus shifted to the apple and she stilled. Bonnie, taking that as a good sign, inched her way forward. Coming to a stop right before her gate, she waited for the mare to make her move. Lenore watched her with large brown eyes and brought her snout closer. She paused a moment, as if weighing her options, and then snorted harshly before turning in her stall to face the opposite direction.
"Well that was rude," Bonnie grumbled, looking down at the ruined apple. "Now I can't even eat this. I'm definitely not coming by tomorrow."
Who was she kidding? She'd probably end up back here anyways.
She had found the days had grown longer without Damon. Probably because he demanded so much of her attention so regularly that now that he wasn't here she had nothing to occupy herself with.
Frowning, she passed off the apple to a less picky horse and wiped her hand on her dress.
"Girl?"
She turned and spotted Stefan standing just outside the stable doors.
Had he forgotten her name? Or was there someone there with him?
"Yes?" she answered cautiously.
"Are you alone?"
She looked around herself before nodding. There had been two people with her earlier but they had taken out some horses for exercise.
"Good," he said stepping into the stables, keeping his voice low, "I have something for you, Bonnie."
"What is it?" she asked, making sure to match his volume and moving closer.
He held out a thinly folded parchment and she frowned. Taking the grainy paper in her hand she studied it closer. Her name and date were on the front in the most elegant script she had ever seen and it took her a moment to realize what she was really holding.
"Is this...?"
"A letter from my brother, yes. It was enclosed with my own. He asked that I should play messenger." He gave her a long, steady look as if searching for something. Whether or not he found it, she wasn't sure, but he continued solemnly, "Rest assured, he explained the situation to me."
Uh, what situation?
Not knowing how to respond, but feeling she had to if the way he was still examining her was any indication, she thanked him.
He bowed his head minutely, his focus finally dropping away and onto the hay strewn floor at her feet. "Find me when you are ready with your reply."
"I will."
He turned to leave, his shoulders more stooped than she was used to seeing and a question nagged at her mind until it tumbled out of her lips.
"How are you?"
He froze halfway out the stable doors and spun back, surprise written all over his face."I..." Slowly his features evened out and he shook his head, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. "I am well enough. I... pray for his safe return."
"I do too," she nodded.
"And you?" he asked suddenly, "How are you fairing?"
"It's too quiet now that he's gone," she answered, then bit her lip, mentally scolding herself.
That made it sound like she was simply bored without him. She had been referring to his energy. Damon's very presence was loud even when he was still and silent, like he was so full of life that you could hear it humming in the air around him.
But Stefan surprised her, his small smile warming as he nodded his understanding. "Aptly put."
He glanced back up toward the manor briefly before looking at her again, "I should best be on my way, but do come and find me, Bonnie."
"I will," she promised for the second time.
Shooting her one last small smile, Stefan left the stables and made his way back to the manor.
Feeling the grainy texture of the paper against the pads of her fingers, she broke out into a grin and had to fight the urge to run back to her room so she could read her letter.
Dear Bonnie,
I must confess, as I sat to write this, it came to my attention that I have been most negligent with you. For how am I to call myself your friend when I have no recollection of your family name, or indeed, of you ever mentioning it to me? This must be remedied post haste.
I have taken the liberty of obtaining my brother's services for the purpose of our correspondence. Rest assured your good reputation has been secured. I took great pains in explaining that no vows had been exchanged between us; that I had simply exhorted the promise of words of comfort from a dear friend at a trying time.
I can scarcely believe it has been a fortnight since my departure; it feels longer and shorter at once. I pray this letter finds you in good health.
We have been a few nights now at the camp that is to be my home until they send me where it is they see fit to send me. It is here that I am to train and become a worthy solider. I have received my meager equipment and lowly ranking.
It occurs to me now that, next we meet, you must call me Private. I should like that.
The other men are of an amiable sort, but they are full of valour and dreams of glory and little else. I long for a proper conversation. I miss our talks. There are times when I imagine you here with me; I imagine what I might say and how you might reply in turn. But these times are short and fruitless, for my imaginings could never compare to the reality of you. You so often surprise me, Bonnie.
Have you begun Villette? I wonder what you shall make of it. I am eager to hear from you. Anything you should wish to say, I would wish to hear. You must regale me with your many adventures in great detail.
Your friend,
DS
Dear Damon,
Stefan explained to me already about him playing messenger. I have to admit that was rather clever of you to ask him to do that for us.
I also have a confession. I would have no idea how to send you letters if you hadn't developed a system. Not that I'm inept, but I've never had to send a letter before and your postal system is very different from the one in Canada.
Everyone here is doing well; everyone's healthy. I'm doing well too. My arm is almost fully healed and I should have use of it again in another week or so. Oh, the joy! I can't wait to get this sling off.
How are you doing? Are you well? I know the men you're with are not the best conversationalists, but you should try to make a few friends. It would be nice to know there was someone out there with you who was looking out for your well being.
I'm halfway through Villette. I find I have much more time to read when no one is bothering me. I like it so far, though not as much as Jane Eyre. I find the protagonist too passive at times, but the side characters are rather interesting.
I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you when it comes to my adventures. No adventures on this end, though I have taken to visiting Lenore daily. She does not like me. At all. I also suspect that she misses you a great deal.
As do your brother and I. I hope to hear from you again soon.
Sincerely,
Bonnie B.
Stefan proved to be much better at the whole sneaking around thing than Damon. She never had to find him. He had the habit of finding her just after she finished her work for the day, right before the evening meal whilst Katherine was getting dressed – the timing could not be more perfect.
She looked forward to these meetings, not just for the contact from Damon but also because she was starting to get to know Stefan a little better.
With each passing of a letter they managed to share a brief moment of conversation. She had always known Stefan was a gentleman but all his charm and good nature couldn't mask the dry humour that lingered underneath. It felt like a small triumph every time she got him to lighten up enough to use it. In what felt like no time at all they fell into an easy friendship.
Though their first real conversation after Damon's departure had been anything but comfortable.
"Both you and Damon are making a pretty big deal over this letter thing."
"Pardon?" Stefan's brow furrowed as he took the letter she was holding out for him.
"It's just that, you've both made it a point to reassure me that my reputation is intact. Was it ever in jeopardy?" she questioned laughingly.
Stefan froze, letter halfway tucked inside his pocket, and regarded at her with wide eyes. "Do you mean to say that... you were unaware –"
"Unaware of what?"
"The necessary arrangements for a correspondence to transpire..." he trailed off uneasily, his gaze boring into her intently, searching for understanding.
Bonnie felt her features crumple in confusion. It felt like he was speaking in another language. There was definitely something she was missing here. "I really don't know what you're talking about."
"Is it not customary within your own –" he broke off suddenly and frowned. "Forgive me. No, I shall not ask that of you."
"Ask what of me?"
Bonnie's stomach was beginning to twist. What had Damon gotten her into now?
Stefan's focus dropped to the floor, no longer able to meet her gaze, and he began solemnly, "It is clear to me that you possess no knowledge of this, though how that can be I cannot begin to fathom –"
"Knowledge of what?" And when she got no immediate response, she pressed, "Knowledge of what?"
He grimaced before starting, "It is expected that if a man and a woman of no relation correspond they have come to... an understanding."
He said the word understanding like he was inferring something and like she should know exactly what it was without him having to say.
Frustrated, she barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Could you please stop dancing around the issue and just tell me what you mean?"
Alarm streaked across Stefan's face and Bonnie felt her pulse spike in panic, realizing that she couldn't talk to him the same way she talked to Damon. With Damon she didn't have to think about these things and she had fallen into complacency, but Stefan was different. Even though he was a good guy, and clearly not a racist bigot, she knew better than to assume she could talk to him any way she wanted to. Things were more complicated than that and she had to remember that this was 1864.
She made to apologize, but Stefan cut her off, his whole body suddenly relaxing and lips quirking upward in amusement. "I mean an engagement of marriage."
"Oh."
There was a pause between hearing what he was saying and the actual comprehension of it, but when it finally dawned on Bonnie she tensed and responded as if on auto-pilot, "We're just friends."
"Yes. So I have been made aware, on several occasions, by you," Stefan assured with a nod of his head while the quirk of his lips expanded into a full smile.
Had he?
And she realized she really had made it a point to say that, almost every time she talked with Stefan. In the back of her mind a tiny voice, that sounded suspiciously like Damon, chimed, The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
Shut up, Damon! Her own inner voice yelled back and she felt herself flush.
Concentrating on something other than her embarrassment and traitorous thoughts, she decided to bring the conversation back to the matter at hand.
"I've never heard of something like this before. Where I come from anyone can send a letter to anyone without it meaning anything. No engagements necessary."
"Ah," Stefan exclaimed and then, as if noticing her discomfort, he continued, "But, come, let us not speak of this... ever, ever again."
Nodding her head stiffly, she whispered, "Agreed."
Bonnie listened idly to Emily's quill as it scratched its way across a piece of parchment. They were meant to be brainstorming. The shadow theory had opened up a plethora of possible ways to approach the spell and they were beginning to narrow down the ingredients that might be needed. Bonnie remembered to stress the fact that the ingredients had been basic; your average kitchen variety herbs.
When she had done the spell, she had been so emotionally all over the place that she hadn't paid any attention to what she was doing, not like she usually did. She hadn't bothered to learn the spell, she had simply performed it. It was the first and last time she would be doing something so reckless, that was for sure.
Bonnie rested her head against the cool wood of Emily's window frame and watched the different people milling about outside on the extensive grounds.
"Aloe Vera, perchance?" Emily prompted.
"No, not common enough..." Bonnie sighed before offering jokingly, "Maybe I used thyme?"
"Unlikely," Emily smirked, but wrote it down anyways. "Basil?"
Something tugged at Bonnie's memory and she felt her heart sink in her chest.
"Yeah," she whispered, pushing herself closer to the window. "That sounds like it could be right. Basil or Bay Leaf, maybe?"
Emily dipped her quill in her little pot of ink and scratched away.
Out of the corner of her eye, Bonnie caught sight of Katherine's oversized skirts.
Emily had been quick to veto the whole staking Katherine idea, not that that really surprised her, but hey, a girl could dream.
Turning her head so she could get a better look she noticed Stefan was with her. Not such an uncommon sight. Since Damon had been away the two could often be found in one another's company. But there had been a marked difference in the vampire's behaviour recently that disturbed Bonnie.
Katherine was less boisterous, less wildly flirtatious than she had been in the past few months. Bonnie had spotted her and Stefan together on more than one occasion with their heads bent together, bodies inclined, deep in what looked to be serious conversation. And these instances were becoming more frequent – like right now for instance.
The two were walking aimlessly, their bodies close but not touching. It was as if they had created their own world where they were the only people who existed. Katherine looked thoughtful and reserved, but she still carried a lightness to her.
And Stefan...
Even from this distance Bonnie could see the devotion on his face as his gaze lingered on Katherine for longer than necessary.
He loved her.
Guilt tore at Bonnie's chest as she pressed her face against the cool glass and shut her eyes.
Maybe if she had reached out to Stefan earlier... Maybe if she had tried with him the way she had tried with Damon this wouldn't be happening now?
But her attempt to warn Damon away from Katherine had ended horribly and she couldn't imagine it ending any better with Stefan. In fact, it probably would have been worse.
Not to mention that she had no way of knowing if her meddling had worked. She had no idea how Damon felt about Katherine now. For all she knew he could still be completely devoted to her. The thought made her want to punch something, hard... preferably Katherine's face.
Either way there was nothing she could do now.
The one good thing about the situation was that Katherine seemed to be as taken with Stefan as he was with her. She was as close to distracted as the vampire got. If Bonnie didn't know better she would think she was actually falling in love with him.
And Bonnie, despite how the guilt ate away at her, was using Katherine's distracted state to her benefit.
She was keeping as much distance between herself and the she-vamp as humanly possibly, which was fairly easy on such a large piece of property. She made it a point to never share the same breathing space as the woman and maybe it was her imagination, but Katherine seemed to be losing interest. Though there had been a few times when Bonnie felt like she was being watched, those were less and less now.
So with Emily playing the double-agent, 'reporting' back to Katherine every so often and telling her how unthreatening and boring Bonnie was, and with Stefan occupying all of the vamp's free time, Bonnie had managed to successfully slink back into the metaphorical shadows.
Dear Bonnie,
I now see that it is not I who has been remiss in our friendship, but you. You who will not tell me your family name; for what reason, I know not. And yet you tease me most cruelly with a letter B. I will weed it out of you in due time, you may depend upon it. Or mayhap we should make a game of it? Shall I guess it from you, Bonnie? Or should I call you, Miss Bradbury?
Dear Damon,
A B is all you'll get until you come home, but you can guess if you like. I may even tell you if you get it right. And for your information, it's not Bradbury, but good try.
Bonnie couldn't help but be fascinated by downtown Mystic Falls circa 1864. It was culture shock every time she went there. Downtown consisted of little more than Main Street, but on that tiny stretch of road there was so much to see.
Horse drawn buggies, street merchants, shop windows and the bustle of people. There was even a boy selling newspapers on a street corner. Unfortunately he wasn't yelling 'Extra! Extra!' which would have made Bonnie's life, but he was yelling 'Hear ye! Hear ye!' which was the next best thing.
Plus it blew her mind seeing shops open that she herself had visited in the 21st century, like Choppy's Ice Cream Shoppe. She remembered going there with Caroline and Elena all the time when they were younger.
Bonnie and Caroline would huff indecisively for a while before settling on the same flavours they always did: Maple Walnut and Cookies n' Cream respectively. But Elena would always go for something new. She just couldn't choose which flavour she liked best so she went back and forth between them all.
Walking past the shop now, Bonnie took a peak in. It looked about the same, though smaller.
"Come along, Bonnie," Emily called a few feet away.
Stepping away from the store front Bonnie made her way over, stretching her newly sling-less left arm as she did. It was incredibly stiff after having been bent for the better part of three months. It was also hella weak; she couldn't really do anything with it yet, but she was trying to use it and get it back to normal.
"Cinnamon is costly but the apothecary should have some readily available," Emily continued once Bonnie caught up.
Bonnie nodded absently, letting her focus wander past Emily and further down the street.
They had narrowed down the ingredients for the spell. It had been simple once Emily had figured out exactly how she wanted to manipulate time and from there she deduced what components combined would most likely aid the desired result. Emily claimed that knowing the ingredients needed would make creating the actual spell, dead Latin and all, much easier.
Joy, Bonnie thought darkly before irritation swelled in her chest. She shouldn't be sullen and ungrateful when Emily had gone out of her way to do this for her. And beside she didn't belong here! She belonged in her own time with her own friends.
But lately, every time she thought about the future she caught herself wondering if she'd be going back to one without Damon in it. The thought gripped her heart like a vice and refused to let go no matter how she tried to shake it off.
Exhaling sharply, Bonnie forced herself back into the moment. Taking a look around, she spotted something across the street that caused the corners of her mouth to turn up.
"Emily," she sang, poking her ancestor gently in the side for good measure, "Isn't that No One of Importance over there?"
Emily shot her a curious look. "Excuse me?"
Bonnie nodded her head in the appropriate direction. When Emily recognized the man standing across the road her eyes widened to twice their natural size and she hurried further down the street.
Laughing, Bonnie ran to cut her off. "Not so fast. Don't you want to say hello?"
She shook her head emphatically. "No, I don't believe that would be prudent."
"Why not?" Bonnie exclaimed.
Emily leveled her with a pointed stare.
"What? Because of me?"
Emily's stare never wavered.
Well that was ridiculous. Bonnie rolled her eyes and protested, "I'm a big girl. I can occupy myself if you want a few minutes to talk to him."
Emily hesitated, her gaze flickering to the man in question before she frowned and shock her head again. "I couldn't."
Okay. It was time to bring out the big guns.
"Emily. If you don't talk to him, I may never be born. Do you want to jeopardize my existence?"
Taking her meaning right away, Emily reddened dramatically, "Good heavens, no."
"Then?" Bonnie pressed, then went in for the kill, "For the sake of all your descendents, you need to go talk to that man."
Emily froze, uncertain. "Whatever would I say?"
"Hello is usually a good start."
"Hello," she echoed once, nodding and then again, a look of steel entering her eyes. Straightening her posture she turned and marched across Main Street.
I totally just set up my great-great-great-great grandparents, Bonnie thought watching Emily as she tapped No One of Importance on the shoulder. She had to admit, she was feeling oddly pleased with herself. How many other people could say that?
Sure it was super weird, and she'd be lying if she said the idea wasn't freaking her out – a lot – but it was also pretty fucking cool.
Dearest Bonnie,
I am to be sent to Cold Harbor, with little more than three weeks of training to aid me. We march on the morrow. It is said that the south may yet prevail, but I have my reservations. If we are indeed triumphing then why does General Lee not march forward? Why, instead, do the armies make their way closer to Richmond?
I fear this may be the last I write to you. (I fear I may never)
I do not confide in you in hopes of causing you alarm. That is my very last wish. I feel I may speak candidly with you and not be judged harshly for it. For my brother, I must be brave. He must be left unaware of the extent of my fears, and you must not reveal it to him, Bonnie. I do not wish to tarnish his regard for me, to paint it with my frailties.
With you I feel I may be frank; and so I must, in all things.
(I have grown) You have shown me, Bonnie, the kindest of friendship (but I find that I am no longer) and I will cherish our time together always. This is not a farewell, for I imagine you would be quite cross with me if I were to attempt it. It is simply a confession and I confess that I have found myself to be a coward. For all my honesty I cannot find the courage to bring myself to pen what I long to most.
Instead I will write what I know you would wish to read. I swear to you Bonnie, I will do everything in my power to return home once more.
Yours always,
DS