1865 - January
Being a vampire was not what Damon had expected. Katherine had warned him about the blood lust and the heightened emotions, but she never warned him about his loneliness. He had never felt such sorrow before now. He never thought of himself as a lonely man but over the last few months he had begun to realise how he had deceived himself.
Though he still had his brother, a noose that tethered him to his past, it was never part of the plan. He was supposed to be the only one that Katherine turned, so that they could be together for the rest of their days. That vision was brutally shattered the moment he found Stefan in transition. Through the fleeting moments of joy that overcame him once he realised his brother had not perished, he felt the sky crumble above his head, crushing him down onto the unforgiving floor. As he watched his younger brother teeter on the precipice of becoming a vampire, Damon realised he had never truly understood what pain truly felt like.
She had lied to him.
Her honeyed vows had promised an eternity of just the two of them, an intoxicating vision of the freedom to plunder and revel in the boundless privileges of immortality. It had been a tantalising mirage that beckoned him like a moth to the flame, offering escape from his tyrannical father and the stifling embrace of Mystic Falls.
Despite her betrayal, there was a part of Damon that was grateful that the vampire had lied. Without her deceit, Stefan would have met his gruesome end on that battlefield at the hands of their father.
And Aurora. Sweet, innocent Aurora; pure as an untouched lily, who left a resounding void in his unbeating heart. He missed her deeply, longing for the warmth of her presence, but he never allowed himself to get too close. He did want to taint her new life with his. He could not allow his shadows dim her dwindling light, she should not be plagued by his demons for a fleeting moment of happiness.
He had been forced to watch as she laid flowers at her family's grave, forced to see the never-ending tears cascading down her face. It killed him to not immediately rush to her side and assure her that he and Stefan were alright. That her tears were not necessary.
But he could not.
She had been given a rare chance at a semblance of normality, blissfully unaware of the demons that lurked in the corners of dark alleys, a life untainted by the shadows of their past, with a man that adored her. Though he was wary at first about at first Mr. Forrest, he had seen how attentive he was to his sister. He was a constant presence by her side, ever a gentleman who ensured she was never alone, who assisted her with her chair, and even went so far as to cut her food. He brought out a new side to her. For instance, as a child Rora hated the colour yellow. She never thought it looked flattering on her and had even regarded it as a colour too 'popular' for her tastes. But just the other day, he saw Rora and her husband at the local seamstress, getting a yellow dress made for some event coming up.
He truly cared for her.
It was for that reason that Damon decided it was time for him to leave Mystic Falls for good. Residing on the outskirts of Mystic Falls, was an exercise in cruelty that was no longer necessary. It was time for him to part ways with Mystic Falls and his brother, to embrace a different future as he waited for Katherine's return.
With bags in hand, Damon descended the stairwell of the abandoned house he and Stefan had been residing in. As he moved towards the front door, an unfamiliar face crossed his path.
"Going somewhere?" she asked.
Damon met her gaze, his expression a mixture of indifference and disinterest. "You must be the vampire my brother can't stop complaining about."
"That would be me. And you must be the brother who hates him," the vampire replied.
Setting down his bag, Damon took a measured step toward her. "We are at irreparable odds."
"You know the hate you're feeling towards Stefan? Towards everyone? You think you have it under control, but you don't. It will get the best of you."
Her words irked him. What he felt wasn't an intense animosity. It was far more nuanced and profound. It was anguish. The grief that came from knowing he would be forced to wait over a hundred years to be with his beloved. Grief that the life he had hated for so long was now unattainable for him. The sorrow that came with the realisation that he could never be part of Aurora's life again lest he drag her down with him.
With a heavy sigh, he picked up his bag once more. "Help him," he pleaded. "He needs it."
"I'll help him." the vampire reassured him. "But I need you to help me first. He needs to see your sister-"
Damon's reaction was immediate and vehement. "No."
"This will help. He needs a connection to remind him of what he's fighting for. Your sister could be the key to that," she insisted.
His reply was unwavering, a vow etched in stone. "I do not care. She will never find out about what we have become. She will remain pure and unscathed by our sins," he maintained.
"Please, you aren't thinking clearly. You need her and she needs you."
"What she needs is to be left alone. Stefan and I have already agreed that we would let her live peacefully. I intend to keep my promise and I trust he will do the same. Regardless of our feelings towards each other." Turning the doorknob, he swung the door open, addressing the vampire for the final time. "Good day, miss," he stated, stepping out into the unknown, his future veiled in uncertainty.
Despite what he said to Miss Branson, Damon could not help but take a short detour before departing. He just had to check on Aurora one last time.
With his back pressed against the sturdy trunk of a large tree, he kept a watchful eye on the activities within the house, particularly Aurora's room. She sat at her elegant vanity, the flickering candlelight casting a warm, golden hue upon her visage. With a deliberate hand, she brushed through her long, lustrous brown locks methodically. Her movements exuded a quiet, almost regal poise.
As she worked the brush through her locks, her husband entered the room. Her spine straightened, and the brush found its resting place on the polished surface of the table. Aurora turned gracefully, the swish of her silken gown accentuating her fluid movement, to face him.
"I have news, my beloved," Aurora said gently.
"What is it?"
"I am with child," she announced.
"That's wonderful." Mr. Forrest rushed forward and lifted Aurora into his arms and spun her around. "Oh, thank you, my darling for this wonderful gift. I had begun to worry that we would never be able to have a child." He moved the hair that had fallen out of place and caressed her sullen cheeks. "Are you not delighted, my dear?" he asked.
"Ecstatic," she smiled through her tears.
Aurora was going to be a mother and what a fine mother she would make. Happy tears pooled in Damon's eyes as he watched the couple embrace over their growing family.
She was going to be just fine.