Chapter 10

"I've been wondering when you'd make an appearance around here."

Shelia had led her and Bonnie to a small, bright kitchen, where she'd told them to take a seat while she finished breakfast. Despite her relaxed manner, Gwen got the feeling it was more of a command than an offer. She and Bonnie shared a look of confusion before obediently taking a seat. Still hot, she opted for water instead of tea when Shelia asked what she wanted to drink. She watched as Shelia poured icing over three cinnamon rolls, unsure of if it was safe to speak or not. Apparently Bonnie felt the same as they both remained silent until Shelia joined them at the table.

"Eat up," Shelia instructed. "I'm sure you're hungry after your run."

Gwen smiled weakly and picked up her fork, but she didn't eat. Instead she asked, "Why were you wondering if I'd come here?"

"A couple of months ago, there was a change. I felt a new presence in town, a new power. A few days later, Bonnie showed up, panicking over a vision." Shelia paused to take a bite of her pastry, humming happily as she chewed. "Anyway, I soon figured out that you are a witch. I've just been waiting to see if you're a friend or foe. You've been particularly difficult to figure out. Your choice of allies certainly hasn't made it easy."

"Wow," Gwen said, turning her attention to her own cinnamon roll under Shelia's intense gaze. Maybe coming here wasn't such a good idea. Maybe Caroline was right and Bonnie's grandmother was crazy. "That's a lot to, uh, process. I'm not sure what's more concerning: that you think I'm a witch or that someone's keeping tabs on me."

"It's only fair," Bonnie muttered, pushing small squares of pastry around her plate. "Given — "

"That's enough, Bonnie," Shelia warned. "You needed some convincing or your own heritage, remember?"

Bonnie returned to her own breakfast, though her displeasure was clear.

"Wait, are you serious? You think I'm a witch?"

Gwen had had to accept a lot of new truths since coming to Mystic Falls: vampires and witches are real, her aunt had likely been killed by a vampire that she was sort of friends with, and her uncle was making a play at being the next Buffy. And even though she had accepted all of this — to the point that she'd come to an alleged witch for help — didn't mean she was willing to accept a claim that she also a witch. At least, not without proof.

"I know you're a witch," Shelia corrected. "As I said, Bonnie's vision revealed your connection to magic. I strongly suspected that you must be a witch, but I needed proof. Bonnie was reluctant to approach you after what she saw, so I started with what I had: your name. Thanks to records requests, personnel connections, and my own research, I was able narrow down your familial coven. When you and Caroline stopped by to pick up Bonnie a few weeks ago, I was able to confirm it. You are a witch."

Shelia smiled smugly. Gwen couldn't tell if she was enjoying the cinnamon roll or her stunned silence more. All she'd wanted from this visit were answers about the visions. She hadn't expected any bombshells about herself.

"Wait a second," she said, reason overriding her panic. "You keep saying I'm a witch but you haven't given me any proof. My mother wasn't and neither is my uncle. So how could I possibly be a witch? And what happened when we picked up Bonnie?"

"Bonnie, go to my desk and get the purple file folder," Shelia commanded. Bonnie grumbled something but still stood up and left to retrieve the folder. Shelia turned her attention back to Gwen, continuing her explanation, though sounding slightly more impatient. "The band you wear has the symbol of your coven. It's been incorporated into a binding spell, which is why you can't use your magic. Magic binding isn't something your coven is known for; I'm surprised that even exists."

Gwen's eyes dropped to her wrist, where she'd been nervously tracing the markings on it. Bonnie reentered the room and walked over to Shelia, ready to hand the folder to her. But Shelia waved it off and pointed at Gwen. She took it, setting it down next to her half-eaten breakfast. The folder was at least an inch thick, which only served to peak Gwen's curiosity — and her fear. No one went through this much effort for a joke. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she started to accept that Shelia wasn't crazy.

"I …," she started, struggling with what to say. "The coven. What is it? How am I connected to it?"

Bonnie leaned forward, her dislike of Gwen momentarily forgotten. Her grandmother must not have kept her in the loop on her research.

"A coven can be an informal or formal group of witches who practice magic together. Sometimes they live together or in the same town. They became a means of survival during times of peak persecution," Shelia lectured as if she was in front of her class instead of in her kitchen with two high school juniors.

"Your coven is known as the Ember Coven, the name evolving from their penchant for burning down villages and small towns when they felt threatened or hunted. Though they haven't done that in a few generations, they continue to lean toward dark magic. Most other witches avoid them. You have the honor of being connected to them through your father, Eric Ashwood. The Ashwoods, by the way, have been the leaders of the coven for the last four generations."

Though all of this had been delivered in a detached, matter-of-fact tone, Gwen was still left in shock. Her mind reeling with new information. While the darkness of this coven certainly concerned her, Gwen was more focused on the revelation of her father. She'd never known his first name. Her mother had never told her. Her mother had been the one to give her the wristband, but he, Eric, must have given it to her first. Gwen clenched her jaw, realizing how much her mom hadn't told her. Remembering her fight with Ric, she decided that lying and double lives must be a Saltzman family trait. Angrily, she opened the folder and pretend to read the first page. She needed a few seconds to calm herself, suddenly worried about what Shelia and Bonnie would think of her temper.

"So what does the wristband have to do with all of this?" Gwen asked tersely. "I didn't get until a year or so ago."

Shelia didn't answer right away. Instead she drank her tea and seemed to mull something over. Finally, she said, "I'm not sure you're ready for that."

"Why not?" she snapped. "I just learned I'm a witch and that my father is the leader of some evil, fire-starting coven. What could be worse?"

Bonnie shifted uncomfortably across the table while Shelia glared at Gwen.

"Watch your tone," she warned.

"Sorry."

Seemingly placated, Shelia shoulder's relaxed and her gaze softened.

"Most witches's power doesn't start to manifest until they're sixteen. There are exceptions, but it's rare and usually easy to control by adding a few special herbs to the child's diet. I suspect your mother must have known the truth and wanted to make sure you had it. She probably thought it would keep you safe; though how she expected you to wear it without explaining its significance seems like an oversight to me."

"She had cancer, Grams," Bonnie interjected, her voice holding a hint of admonishment. They may not have been besties, but Bonnie knew how sensitive she was about her mother. Gwen gave a weak smile as a sign of thanks.

"It does seem counterintuitive that binding my powers would protect me, but maybe it does? Damon can't compel me. Could this," she said, indicating the leather band, "be why?"

"It's possible, but it also keeps your father from finding you. If you took it off and started using your magic, he could track you. You'll be of interest to him now that you have your powers."

"Why?" Bonnie and Gwen asked at the same time, causing Shelia to smirk in amusement.

Shelia paused once again, though this hesitation felt different than before. Finally she said, "I don't have all the answers here; just rumors and speculation."

Gwen nodded, wanting to hear it anyway.

Clearing her throat, Shelia offered up her theory. "Your coven, the Ember Coven, has always been attracted to power. It's believed that when its founding families fled the trials in Salem, they vowed to never live in fear or be victimized by mortals again. Obviously, they needed to be stronger than any possible enemy and set out to accomplish that — by any means. About a hundred years ago, it's rumored they found an old, powerful source of dark magic. No one knows what it is or how they access it. Some say it's something the whole coven has access to. Others, like myself, believe it was consumed by only one member who became the leader."

"Why's that?" Bonnie asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Gwen, whose own voice felt trapped in her throat, was grateful for the question.

"In that file you'll find a record of your family's genealogy and partial list of known members of the Ember Coven, including the leaders," Shelia said, indicating the file folder with a tilt of her head. "You'll notice that the first born Ashwood child has led the coven for the last one hundred years. That's not normal for a coven. A single family doesn't usually dominate and being the first born isn't important. I suspect that Elizabeth Ashwood took in the dark magic and it somehow passes from parent to child."

A silence fell among them, the girls processing what Shelia's theory meant.

"Are you … are you saying I'm some big evil witch and the only reason I'm not burning people alive is this wristband?" Gwen asked, her voice strained.

Shelia laughed, which only made Gwen glare. She'd had a tone of total seriousness throughout the her whole explanation about Gwen's father and his coven. Shelia couldn't expect to not be fearful of that meant for her.

"No, the wristband's not that powerful. If my theory's correct, you may be pulled more toward using dark magic. But you don't have to be. You can choose to control it. Part of that is surrounding yourself with the right people," she added pointedly.

"You mean Damon?" Gwen asked, not surprised by Shelia's skepticism of him. She'd seen how Bonnie acted around him. He was probably public enemy number one in this house. Sighing, Gwen said, "That's complicated. I appreciate all you've told me today, but I can't really get into why I'm working with him. The short version is I'm trying to keep my uncle alive."

"You think Damon will keep his word?" Shelia asked, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. Bonnie scoffed, indicating her own disbelief.

Gwen shrugged. "He has so far. That's actually related to why I came here. Um, he has your ancestor's book."

"We know," Bonnie said, hostile once again.

"Right, well, when I was looking at it last night, I think I had a vision. I was hoping you could help me figure it out," Gwen said, keeping eye contact with Shelia.

Bonnie looked like she was about to jump in with another comment or tirade, but her grandmother cut her off. "What was it?"

"Well, it was more of a series of visions," she explained. "Most of them, I think, were echoes of your family, but one was different. There was a girl in the middle of a circle of people, and she was surrounded by something that looked like black smoke. The people seemed to be chanting something. I could feel her fear. I —"

Gwen stopped talking when she noticed the twin looks of surprise on her hosts faces, eyes wide and mouths slight agape.

"What is it?" Gwen asked, a tight knot forming in her stomach.

After a shared look and recovering their composure, Shelia answered. "That was the start of Bonnie's vision on Halloween."

"And? What happened?" Gwen's heart was racing. Their silence only increased her feeling of foreboding, but she had to know.

With a steady voice, Bonnie said, "It changed to you standing in the middle of flames, completely unharmed and smiling."


An hour later, Gwen sat in the passenger's seat of Bonnie's car, the purple file folder and a few books in her lap. Both girls were quiet, thinking about everything Shelia had shared with them that morning. Overwhelmed didn't even begin to cover how Gwen felt. At least Bonnie wasn't going to curse her to oblivion anymore. Learning that Gwen was trying to keep her uncle safe from Damon had quelled her anger. Protecting people from Damon was something she could support.

"How much of this are you going to share with Elena?" Gwen asked, breaking the awkward, almost oppressive, silence. She was still processing everything; she wasn't ready for anyone else, besides Bonnie and her grandmother, to know.

"None of it. Promise," she added, noticing Gwen's doubtful look. "Elena has enough to deal with between Stefan, Damon, and Jeremy. Besides, I just went through all this. I took my time telling people."

"Thanks," Gwen said, relieved. "Again, sorry about your family grimoire."

Bonnie shrugged before making a left onto Gwen's street. "We'll get it back. Grams said a Bennett witch had to perform the spell. I'm sure she'll negotiate something."

Bonnie pulled into her driveway and Gwen was grateful to see her uncle's car was still missing.

He and Jenna must have been having a good date. Making sure she had a good grip on the books, Gwen opened the car door and got out.

"Read through those and start practicing like Grams said," Bonnie reminded her. "It'll feel weird at first, but I promise it'll help."

She nodded and closed the car door, waving good-bye as Bonnie reversed the car and drove away.

Gwen wasted no time getting inside to escape the freezing afternoon. Upon entering the silent home, however, she found herself at a loss for what to do. Part of her wanted to go upstairs, sleep, and deal with all of this later. But she knew she was too alert to actually fall asleep. Sighing, she resigned herself to going through the file and books Shelia had given her.

She toed off her shoes before making her way to the kitchen. Though Shelia had been a good host, Gwen hadn't eaten much of the cinnamon roll. She'd been distracted by the witch and evil dad announcements. With a loud thump, she set the books on the kitchen table. Her thoughts already turning to what could be in the pantry. Her face fell when she opened the door to find all of the quick meals gone. The hadn't had take out in a few days, so the fridge was a no-go, as well. A light blue package got her eyes as she was about to close the pantry door. Deciding it would do, she grabbed a white package from the box.

As the milk warmed in the microwave, Gwen poured the hot chocolate mix into a mug. It wasn't food, but it would it would make her feel full for now. Maybe she would get something delivered in a bit. The microwave beeped and Gwen opened immediately. She hated that high-pitched alert. She finished stirring the milk and powder together as she walked back to the table. Sitting down, Gwen brought the mug to her lips but it too hot to sip. Instead she set it down on the table and pulled the purple folder toward her.

She wanted to read it. She really did. Gwen had always wanted to know about her father, though she had tried to not let her mom know that. Now she had a whole dossier on him and his family and she was afraid to read it. She was being stupid. She knew it. Besides satisfying a life-long curiosity, learning about her father and his side of the family could be vital to her survival. So what if they were dark witches? At least she was somewhat prepared for what she would read.

"Just do it," she muttered to herself, flipping the file open to the first page. Good or bad, it was better to get it over with now.

Gwen was still at the table an hour and a half later when Ric returned home. Pages from the file folder were spread out in front of her, some in somewhat organized piles and others simply scattered. Two of the three books were open, one on top of the other, from when she had had to look up something. Her hot chocolate, which had long gone cold, sat half-drunk and precariously close to the edge of the table. Ric had been ready to reprimand her for last night's behavior but his resolve vanished when he saw his messy and slightly crazed-looking niece pouring over a myriad of documents.

"Gwen," he said gently, afraid to startle her. She lifted her head, blinking to refocus her gaze. "What is all this?"

She could only stare at him at first, struggling to pull her thoughts together. She'd only read about half of the file, occasionally breaking to look up something in one of the books. There was so much information on her father — more than she ever thought she would get about him — and his coven. Though she wasn't finished going through it all, Gwen was sure she wanted nothing to with her father or anyone from the Ember Coven.

"Um, I think we need to talk," she said, surprising herself a little. But as she gathered the papers into one pile, Gwen knew she didn't want to keep a bunch of secrets anymore. She needed to come clean, at least about this.

"What do you know about my dad?" She asked, trying to ease Ric into this conversation.

Sitting across from her now, he balked at the question. Clearly, he hadn't expected the question.

"Uh, not much," he said with a shrug. "Your mom met him when she was living in Arizona for an internship. She was happy with him for a while. After two years, she showed up at my apartment with you."

"And she never said anything about why she left him?"

"No," Ric said slowly, thinking back on that day. "I could tell she was scared, but I guess she never gave a specific reason. I always figured he was abusive. To be honest, I'm not sure she married him since I don't remember her ever filing for a divorce."

"But that's it?" Gwen pressed, hoping for something that would help him believe what she was about to tell him.

"That's all I remember. Gwen, what is this about? Why the sudden interest in him?"

"My father, his name is Eric Ashwood," she started, sliding the purple folder over to him, "and he is the leader of the Ember Coven, which a group of witches that practices dark magic."

Ric stared her for a second before a guffaw of disbelief escaped him. When she failed to laugh with him or say "just kidding", his half-amused smile slid into a confused frown.

"You - you're not joking?" he asked, voice hoarse.

"What? Vampires are real but witches can't be?" she teased.

"How do you know —"

"Not tonight," she interrupted, her tone serious again. "Just accept that I do."

They sat in silence until Ric gave a nod accompanied with a disgruntled "fine".

"Yes, I'm serious," she said earnestly. "I just found out this morning actually. Bonnie's grandmother is one — she's the one who did all that research — and she's pretty sure I am one because of who my dad is. And after today, I think she's right."

"But how? You've never done anything magical," Ric observed, his brow furrowed as he scanned through the file. Gwen pulled back the sleeve of her jacket, revealing the wristband.

"Because of this. Shelia said it has a binding spell on it — that's what some of the symbols are for. Mom gave it to me when I was fifteen, which is when your magic starts to manifest, I guess. But I don't think it's working so well anymore."

"Why?" Ric questioned, his need for information overriding his concern.

Gwen hesitated. "Well, a few months ago the bottom drawer of your desk, the one that's always locked, was suddenly unlocked without the key or without me picking it. And when I was closed it, it locked again."

"I knew those papers were out of order," he muttered. "I can't believe you went through my desk. You can't just —"

"Another day," she reminded him. With an exasperated sigh, he motioned for her to continue. However, she decided to give up just a little bit of information. "I saw something, ok? I saw something, thought I was crazy and remembered Isobel's research. I was looking for that and I didn't want to upset you so I didn't ask. I found your hunting kit on accident."

"You could've come to me," he said gently.

"Because you were so honest about why we moved here?" she challenged.

Ric leaned back in chair, looking tired. "Another time. So … do you think your mother knew the truth?"

Gwen dropped her gaze to the table. That was the question she'd been struggling with all afternoon. She didn't want to believe her mom would keep something like this from her. They'd always had a fairly honest relationship. Keeping Gwen in the dark wouldn't keep her safe, especially if Eric did find her and try to take her back to the coven. It just didn't seem like something the woman she knew would have done. But, she guessed she didn't know who her mother was before she was born.

Looking back up at her uncle, Gwen said, "Yes. I think she found out and was scared. From what's in that file, it wouldn't surprise me if he was abusive, too. But I do think she knew."

They fell silent. Ric looked like he was reading the first page of the file, but he was stalling as he tried to think of what to say. Gwen drummed her fingers, feeling like she needed to move or run. Actually, she just wanted her uncle to say something. Finally, he cleared his throat.

"All right," he said, looking more confident than he sounded. "You're a witch and the wristband is failing. So we have two options: you learn to control your magic or we ask Shelia if she can get rid of it forever. What do we do?"

"I, uh," Gwen stammered. She hadn't thought about getting rid of her magic. She didn't even know if that was an option. But after a minute of thinking it over, Gwen knew that wasn't what she wanted. "Shelia and Bonnie said they'd help me learn how to use it. That's what I want to do."

"Ok." Ric didn't look disappointed in her choice, but he would probably need time to accept it. "So that's what we'll do. I should probably meet Shelia and see if I can help or just make sure she's not going to turn into the evil witch of the west or something."

Gwen smiled. "Trust me, she's not. But I guess it wouldn't hurt for you to meet her."

"Good," Ric said, rolling his eyes. "And from now on, we're going to be honest with each other. Got it?"

Gwen's stomach sunk, though she managed to keep smiling. She couldn't be completely honest with him, not when it came to Damon. He'd run out and get himself killed if she told him that Damon was probably responsible for Isobel's death.

"Yeah, ok," she agreed, hoping her voice didn't sound strained. Even though it was only two words, somehow this lie felt worse than all the others. Shaking off her guilt, she asked, "Can we order dinner? I'm starving."


AN: I hope the revelation about Gwen was worth the wait! This chapter took a few tries to get right, but I'm pretty happy with how it came together.

Question: How would you all feel about a chapter from Damon's perspective? I've been playing around with the idea for a while but I'm not sure if I should switch perspectives for this story, especially since it may only be one time.

Hope everyone is having a good summer and staying safe!