PROMPT: the greek gods have faded and died...well, almost all of them. AU.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or the characters, I make no money from this.
Every week, without fail, Bonnie always retreats back to St. Patrick's Cathedral where she sits on the concrete steps and observes the people who cross her path. She's been coming to this church since she first moved to New York City in 1922, watching people approach the door with hope and reverence in their gaze, or desperation and despair, clearly searching for some kind of miracle. Sometimes, she uses her magic to listen in on their prayers, murmured words laced with faith, desolate pleas for help and occasionally, she grants them, uses her powers to help them achieve peace, if only for a moment. It can take such strength and force, draining her for weeks and leaving her weak but she rarely regrets the action. After all, how is a god to exist if people's beliefs continue to dwindle?
She wears a lavender dress with a white cardigan, strappy heels clicking on the floor as she walks to the cathedral. People glance her way, some staring a little too long, their looks varying from envy to admiration to suspicion as they take in the way she glows and flutters in the sun. She's taken many forms over her immortal lifespan, shifted from a small brown bird to a python in the grass, but now her true form remains. Wavy ebony hair, piercing green eyes, soft brown skin that gleams, a small figure that accentuates her youth, vestiges of her divinity soaking her. Mortals used to cower before her, faces slack with awe and knees bent in worship, arms full of rich sacrifices and plentiful offerings. Now, she looks like any other mortal on the street, her kingdom eroded to a lifeless husk of itself.
She makes it to the steps and sits down, taking out a chocolate croissant from a nearby bakery; she has no need for food, but the taste of flaky dough and molten chocolate is one she can appreciate. The afternoon passes by as clouds shift and people hurry in a million different directions when a shadow comes into view. Bonnie looks up and smiles calmly, as if she's been awaiting his arrival for years. In a way, maybe she has.
"Hello, Deimos."
Flint-blue eyes scan her, black hair swept against carved marble skin and he's dressed in all black with a devious smirk, somewhat resembling an omen of death. People give them a wide berth as they walk by, put off by the aura of unease and danger he permeates. The slivers of his divinity expressing itself however it can.
"Hecate," comes his reply, words slipping out of his mouth like molten silver. He always knew how to sweet talk someone, twisting and molding his words to his advantage. A gift leftover by his mother. "Or is it still Emily you're going by?"
1858. The last time they saw each other, when she was travelling through Mexico under the pseudonym Emily Bennett and came cross Deimos with his twin, Phobos, who were heading back up to the States. She never liked Deimos - liked his parents even less, and she found him too chaotic and arrogant, so full of himself, but the erosion of their kingdom has softened things.
"I prefer to be called Bonnie nowadays. Bonnie McCullough."
"Bonnie," he says softly, his words caressing the name, "That's Scottish, isn't it?"
"I thought it was pretty. What should I call you?"
"Damon. It's Greek, it means to tame or subdue. It's the perfect name for me, don't you think?"
"I couldn't have chosen better myself," she pauses, choosing her words carefully, "I felt Phobos's death, in 1864. I'm sorry. Was it peaceful?"
Damon's expression is vacant but his eyes hold old sorrow in them. "As peaceful as can be. I think, at the end, he was tired and ready to move on. He only regretted leaving me behind."
Bonnie understands the feeling. She's had to say goodbye to her parents, her family and the gods she called friends, watch so many of her loved ones weaken and fade out of existence. Grief is now her oldest companion.
"They all do, don't they? But once we're alone, it's not much comfort."
"No, it's really not," grief lines his face for a moment, taking away from his youth and glow. Their anguish bonds them together, and for all the misery it brings, Bonnie feels the slightest relief in reuniting with someone who knows. For all the beauty humans have created, they can be so naive and impulsive. They cannot comprehend the burdens she carries.
"So little of us left…I used to remember when we ruled the world. When the earth smelled sweet and the winds were clean and the food was rich. When my magic felt like an infinite ocean. When I could fit the world in the palm of my hand..."
"I remember the way my father would charge into battle. He never looked so alive. His energy crackled and lit the sky, he used to be so fearless. Now, war is senseless and pointless, a mockery of ancient history."
Bonnie pushes away her memories. They will not serve her now. "Did you come here to reminisce, Damon? I won't deny, I miss the past but I've found going back only breeds misery."
"I believe misery preferred the name Oziys," Damon winks, and Bonnie rolls her eyes as his expression softens, "Where else would I go, Bonnie? What is there for me to do? Nobody knows my life. No one understands, and I finally found you. So, if you don't want me here, well, fuck that. I will not fade away all alone."
Bonnie surveys him silently, and pats the pavement ground next to her. He tilts his head, somewhat surprised and sits beside her.
She holds his hand and smiles at him. "I don't want to be alone anymore either. We can be together now."
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