Author's note: Thanks for giving this story so much love, everyone!
It's time for the Founders' Party!
Happy Lunar New Year, everyone! YAY, Year of the Wood Dragon! :D Wishing everyone happiness, love, and good cheer. :)
Late September 2009
It was his physical mantra, his sacred ritual – his path toward a moment of Zen. With each hair slicked so flawlessly, Stefan Salvatore felt his anxiety lessen, his sense of control increase. There – the repetitive motions soothed him, kept his frazzled brain from obsessively going over the recent events of his life that left him feeling helpless and angry and exasperated beyond belief.
What was Damon doing back in town? Every time he'd tried to question his devious older brother, Damon would just find a new way to ridicule him or dodge the question. And now it seemed he'd even won over the trust and affection of Elena. Sweet, innocent Elena. She'd already faced so much tragedy in her young life, and now it would appear that Damon was intent to make her suffer evermore. Why would he give her vervain? None of it made any sense.
Unless it was fake.
Of course! That must have been it. Maybe it was an herb that he had someone enchant to make her even more susceptible to his whims? There's no way that his brother – his brother who promised him an eternity of misery, who sought to complicate his life at every turn, who massacred the house's borders in the '90s – would want to cause her anything but harm. The thought brought Stefan as much pain as anything else, because he missed his brother desperately – the Damon who protected him from father, who taught him how to play football, who cared for him. But that Damon was gone.
Long gone with the transition to vampirism, and Damon would never forgive him. It seemed like no matter what he did, though, Stefan couldn't let go of the hope that someday Damon would return to him. After all, in all the long years of his life, the one constant source of his emptiness was the thought of his brother. He realized, belatedly, that Damon was perhaps the only person he ever truly loved – truly needed.
But Damon was long gone, and it was time to accept that.
And the monster who had taken his place had to be handled before more people died at his hands. As it was, Damon already threatened to compel Elena – to make her his puppet – only to give her vervain later that same day. Yet another piece of evidence that the herb was a fraud.
Stefan tried to spike his bourbon earlier that day, but he must have been too obvious in his attempt at intrigue, because his ruse had been unveiled almost immediately. He'd have to be clever. If Damon's spending this much time with Elena – and he'd seen them together at the Grill and at the park, and all over town several times in the last few weeks, always laughing and flirting – then he was likely feeding on her. All he would have to do is poison his food source, and then Elena would be safe. He'd do it at the Founders' Party that night, Stefan resolutely decided.
There – there was a well-crafted plan. Yet another hair perfectly in place. The gel kept firm control over his locks, just as Stefan himself must keep over his emotions, in order to not let the ripper out. Perfectly coiffed – perfectly still – a vision of serenity. Just one more errant hair …
But Stefan was so immersed in his endeavor that he hardly heard Damon sneak up on him. "No matter how much you prep to seduce Bagheera, Stef, he won't give that blood up so easily!"
The relative volume of Damon's obnoxious query compared to the silence of his approached sounded like yelling in his ear, caused Stefan to lose all concentration, and flatten his carefully-constructed hairdo.
"Asshole," Stefan muttered under his breath as he watched a laughing Damon exit the room and prepared to start his hair ritual all over again.
As the evening pressed on in the Gilbert household, Elena and Anna found themselves getting ready for the most anticipated event Mystic Falls promised all season – the Founders' Party and Heritage Display that would kick off the official, several months-long celebration, culminating with a parade.
In the midst of it all would be the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. Elena groaned inwardly at the thought – she registered at the behest of her mother, a former Mystic Queen. Although pageants were never Elena's cup of tea, she wasn't a passionate opposer of them, either. While she definitely lacked Caroline's genuine zeal for town mores and traditions, she also wasn't so far on the other end of the spectrum as to scoff at the pageant as 'kowtowing to the patriarchy,' as Anna was fond of saying, while occasionally dropping curious little snippets about her own alleged intention to participate back in 1864.
Now, the thought of it tied her up in knots. Would she be able to get through it? Would it be too much of a reminder?
She weighed her options, wondering if her mother would be disappointed in her for dropping out. She would, wouldn't she? Elena was already responsible for her early demise, so doesn't she owe her at least this? This meant that Elena had to participate, even if the thought of it terrified her. All those committees - poking and prodding into her innermost thoughts - analyzing her behavior, scrutinizing her grief, judging her.
"Are you okay?" Anna asked dubiously, seeing that Elena mentally disappeared somewhere again.
Elena bit her lip, choosing to forgo her present train of thought – she was starting to feel guilty for occupying the discussion space about her grief constantly, and instead elected to talk about another matter that was on her mind. "Bonnie told me she's a witch."
The smile that illuminated Anna's face could only be compared to a Cheshire Cat. "Excellent," she emoted by rubbing her hands together in an eerily accurate parody of Mr. Burns.
Elena stifled a chuckle, then took a seat on her bed, folding one leg beneath her at the knee. "She showed me this really cool thing with floating feathers!"
"Well, she is a Bennett witch – they're strong," Anna admitted, respect evident in her tone.
"She told me something else, too," Elena shyly admitted, averting her eyes from Anna's penetrating gaze.
Anna was familiar with this look and dreaded who it was probably about. "What's that?" she asked, proud of herself for only slightly clenching her teeth.
"She said that when she touched me, she saw a crow, fog, a man – and that it was only the beginning," Elena breathed, sounding considerably dreamier than she hoped. "She predicted Damon."
"Damon has a raven familiar," Anna retorted smartly, even though she honestly had no idea if this was true since she was hardly a zoologist, yet she still had only the vaguest hope that this would dissuade her clearly enamored friend.
Elena just rolled her eyes. "Bonnie's not exactly an avian expert, and that's not the point – don't get bogged down with a detail."
"Fine," Anna huffed. "I told you he's bad news. We're reluctant allies to save my mom, and then we go our separate ways – and he'll go off to court his sociopath like a good little obsessed minion."
Elena chewed her lip again, a sign of anxiety – on the precipice of making a decision. "I offered him my blood to heal him, and he didn't take it. I think you're wrong about –"
"What!?" Anna exclaimed, interrupting her. "Why would you do that?"
Elena groaned audibly, falling onto her back on the bed, her ceiling and its photoluminescent stars on display. "Instinct, I guess? He was hurt. I didn't really think about it."
"Well, you should!" Anna scoffed, horrified by the information. "He's a goddamn predator! We all are. You're lucky he didn't drain you dry."
"You wouldn't," Elena countered, sitting up to face her interlocutor. "You would never hurt me," she declared confidently.
"But Damon would!" Anna shot back. "And Stefan! If Katherine wanted it. Noah – fucking Noah's already talked about delivering you to Katherine just for a chance at a breadcrumb from her. If he didn't turn into such a sad mess every time I threatened him, I'd have staked him already, but make no mistake – Katherine's boytoys are committed, and they'd do anything for even a flicker of attention from her."
"And you think Damon will do the same exact thing?" Elena interrupted hotly. "I met Noah, remember? The two of them don't act anything alike."
"Fine," Anna grudgingly admitted. "Maybe Damon has a bit more finesse but believe me – Katherine Pierce ensnares. She's one of the best manipulators I've met in my very long life – this is a woman who managed to fool my mother, and rest assured that Pearl Zhu is not easily taken in. But her boytoys are the worst of the bunch – and everyone in that little harem she's made over the years is devoted. So, what am I afraid of? I'm afraid that if Katherine asks for your head on a silver platter, he'll only be too happy to deliver just for a small round of eye-fucking contact and the false promise of a quick handy under the table. Trust me when I say that a vain narcissist like Katherine will be very interested to learn she has an exact, human lookalike."
"Why would you think that? I mean – yeah, sure – he wants to save her. But there's a big difference between wanting to ease someone's pain and being their puppet," Elena replied, horrified.
"He's been trying to free her for one-hundred and forty-five years, Elena!" Anna threw her arms up frustration that it was apparently so difficult for her to get her point across.
"And you've been trying to free your mom!" Elena countered. "You told me yourself that my ancestor betrayed her. What if she asks you to serve me up on a platter for revenge? Would you?"
Anna instantly backed down, all the heat deflating from her countenance. "You know I wouldn't."
Elena's own demeanor gentled in response. "Then how do you know he would?"
"Because I know what Katherine does to her lovers," Anna admitted quietly. "I live with one – and believe me when I say it isn't pretty. Noah's a coward, though, thank God. He's been pretty easy to keep in line. And I know Damon seems fine now, but once that tomb opens …" Anna trailed off, in response to which Elena narrowed her eyebrows in scrutiny. She'd seen that look before.
Elena studied Anna for a few seconds, scrutinizing the sudden change in the demeanor. "There's something you're not telling me," she intuited.
"You're right, E," Anna sighed, but didn't elaborate. Both girls were silent for several seconds, with Anna finally speaking again as she feared that Elena's prompting eyebrows would raise so high that they'd escape through her top of her head. "And I can't – not yet. I'm asking you to please just trust me on this."
"Anna –" Elena sighed.
"Please, Elena," Anna beseeched. "Please, just trust me. It'll make sense after we open the tomb. I already lost my mom because of that bitch – please don't make me lose you, too!"
The room was shot into silence. Privately, Elena felt that Anna was a little unfair, but as someone who lost her own parents recently, she understood the emotional spirals that came with that kind of grief entirely too well – and having been separated from her mother for nearly 150 years, with the potential of perpetuity if all requirements for a spell were not met, had to have felt final at least at some points. Elena drew her knees to her chest around Gummi initially, then quickly got up to envelop Anna in a hug. The vampire just stood in place and allowed herself to get embraced. "I'll be careful; I promise," she soothed into Anna's ear, squeezing her tightly. "You won't lose me."
They stood in their embrace for several whole minutes, before Anna cleared her throat and finally pulled back, still not entirely comfortable with that level of intimacy and vulnerability. "We need to keep getting ready."
"Anna…" Elena began, trailing off when she couldn't figure out quite how to phrase her concern, especially given the fragile state Anna allowed herself to reach.
"I won't let anyone get hurt – I promise," Anna quickly offered, correctly discerning Elena's concern. The human girl just nodded, squeezing Gummi on her lap when she sat back down on the bed, as she felt the first bouts of anxiety. Instead of giving into it, however, she felt that her vampiric friend had earned herself a tease with a topic that clearly annoyed her. She smiled mischievously. "He didn't take my blood when I freely offered, Anna," she teased in a musical cadence.
"He didn't take your blood because he knows I'll kick his ass, E," Anna smirked arrogantly, at once relieved by the happier atmosphere and irritated that they were talking about him again. She rolled her dark irises skyward as she applied her eyeshadow and liner with considerably more ease than anyone who looked her age should. "That's what makes the most sense – Damon may be a bit reckless, but he's not suicidal."
"And I take it you're stronger?" Elena intoned playfully, indulging her.
"Obviously! I've got four hundred years on him!" Anna scoffed indignantly. "It's like you fighting a five-year-old. Seriously, the Salvatores are babies," she explained, well aware that she was exaggerating the ratio.
"And how old are you exactly?" Elena inquired with a subtle tilt of her head.
"I'm five-hundred and fifty-seven; the boys are barely past a hundred and sixty – baby vamps, all things considered," Anna proudly revealed to Elena's ever widening eyes.
"Yeah, so young," Elena deadpanned, indulging an eyeroll. "I guess you weren't really being dishonest when you compared Damon to a twelve-year-old, because age is relative, right?"
"Glad you see it my way!" Anna cheered, grabbing another 'granny candy' to pop into her mouth before adding the final touches on her smoky eye.
In response, Anna just received a giggle and a pillow thrown at her face.
The Lockwood Estate was decorated resplendently, which was far from a surprise to any of the attendees. Say what you will about the family matriarch and her hostile treatment of employees, the woman certainly knew how to throw a ball.
Anna and Elena met Damon on the grounds per an agreement they finally reached after he unsuccessfully pitched picking them up a few times, counting on Elena extending a polite invitation reflexively – ideas that Anna vetoed each time. Finally, he gave up and just agreed to meet them in the gardens.
Damon wore a suspiciously smug expression as the girls approached him – at least that was what Anna noticed first. What she noticed second was the gasp that Elena desperately tried to hide as her eyes took in his form, the height of elegance and sophistication in his perfectly tailored suit. As they approached him, he reached into his jacket pocket to pull out two corsages. "For my two dates," he intoned with a sultry wink.
"Nasturtium? Victory in battle? Really? That's some wishful thinking," Anna snarked, taking the offered item to secure on her own wrist. "Damon's using the flower language we were all forced to learn to act obnoxious," she explained to a blushing Elena, who allowed Damon to place the bracelet decorated with red tulips, salvias, and pink roses, its band embossed with the thornless stem of the latter flower on her wrist.
"What does mine mean?" Elena asked, proud to control the slight tremor in her voice – then internally scolded herself for being so ridiculous. She frowned when she noticed the increasing annoyance on Anna's face.
"It's a nonsensical mess," Anna finally said offhandedly, choosing not to reveal the provocative meaning of the arrangement. Just what the hell was Damon playing at? "But let's see – a secret. Damon's hiding a secret. Probably the erectile dysfunction," she stage-whispered to her human friend. "It happens to some vamps after their first century."
"You can keep trying, Anna-Banana, but you're not getting anywhere near what's inside these pants," Damon sassed musically. "She thinks that if she keeps sexually harassing me and calling me a 'prude' that I'll give it up," he said with a shake of his head that played at earnestness. "Too bad there's no vampy HR. I feel so wounded and violated. I need someone to heal me. What about you, Elena? Want to heal this wounded soul that Anna keeps harassing?" he purred with a wink.
Elena stifled a snicker and looked at him pointedly. "Sorry, but if you're looking for an 'I can fix him' girl, you're in the wrong place. The only one who can do that is in the mirror," prompting a high-five from Anna.
"And on that note, youngins, it's time to get inside," Anna declared, hooking her arms through Elena and Damon's, and enjoying being able to speak about her advanced age freely.
As the trio approached the threshold, they found that there was no greeter who would have the authority to invite a vampire inside. Shocking them all, Damon stepped into the house, then turned around, enjoying his companions' sputtering faces. "I told you I didn't need you to get an invite. Carol was only too eager to get the Eternal Stud inside," he expressed with a wink.
"Do I even want to know how you scored an invite to the Lockwood Manor all by yourself?" Anna wryly intoned, stepping inside, having been invited before when the Lockwoods hosted a barbeque for the Mystic Falls football team and cheerleading squad. Feigning reluctance as Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline's combined plus one had been all too easy to score the lucrative all-access pass, though at times she admittedly found the company she had to keep for the remainder of the afternoon too high a price.
"Did you tell her that speaking to the manager is your kink, Damon?" Elena impishly grinned, stepping inside to join them.
Damon only wiggled his eyebrows in response. "If you want to know more about my kinks, Elena, all you have to do is ask. I'd be happy to offer a full demonstration."
Feeling her cheeks flush and a very unwelcome but tantalizing heat flood her body, Elena awkwardly cleared her throat. "Ooh, look, champagne! I'm getting a drink," she said with her strongest and not entirely successful attempt at a calm demeanor, forced a winning smile, and quickly jumped away to chase down the caterer serving her favorite effervescent beverage.
Once Elena was out of earshot, Anna leveled Damon a piercing look. "What the hell are you playing at with those flowers? Gardenia for 'secret love,' salvia for 'I think of you,' pink roses for 'please believe me' —and the fucking cherry on top with the thornless rose bracelet to indicate 'love at first sight?' Really?"
"Oh, Anna – so paranoid in your old age. They're just flowers," he shrugged. When she resumed glaring, his grin rose to hitherto unprecedented proportions. "Maybe I do have a plan – or maybe I don't. Either way, that's for me to know, and for you to dot-dot—."
Anna interrupted with a roll of her eyes, releasing a barely held chuckle with a scoff. "Don't even. Watch yourself, Salvatore."
"Yeah, I'm the image of trepidation. Shaking in my sexy Armanis," he rolled his eyes in return. "You'd probably notice if you weren't practically foaming at the mouth. What the fuck happened to you, Annabelle? You used to be fun."
"I got my family ripped apart by your psycho ex-girlfriend," she spat. "That two-faced bitch you and your mopey brother kept pining over, even after she eviscerated your heart. Fucking pathetic."
"Yeah, well, in a few days, both your family and my heart will be put back together," Damon replied flatly. "So why don't we get ahead and start practicing that distance now?"
With that bout of hostility, the two vampires separated to opposite corners of the room, both satisfied to pursue their individual endeavors. As Anna contented herself with her friends, Damon made a quick escape upstairs to collect the crystal that he'd been seeking since his return to Mystic Falls.
Why did he choose those flowers? Damon scoffed inwardly, as he pocketed the prized item that he'd sought for so long. He couldn't explain it. He was drawn to them and felt an insatiable urge to give Elena something with that particular message.
He growled at his own stupidity. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was days – days – away from finally reuniting with Katherine. So, what the hell was he doing playing suitor to Elena? Because she somehow stumbled into piercing through his armor with her questions – her insights? Because he could see that she genuinely cared? Because he somehow managed to pull out her smile and her laugh and that adorable twinkle in her eye that's hidden behind a sea of grief, and it made him feel like the very Sun was shining straight into his still-beating undead heart?
Fuck all that, he scoffed.
Anna seemed to think it was some kind of ploy to fuck with her friend, apparently – and if Damon had to be perfectly honest with himself, he'd much prefer it was that. Definitely better than an alternative that he was not even remotely ready to explore.
Whatever – let Anna think what she wants. He'll be gone in a few days, anyway, and they won't be his problem anymore.
As is, this town and its active vampire-hunting council was so stifling it was making him chafe. He hadn't had any real fun since that couple he killed on his way in, hoping to cause enough of a stir to scare Stefan away. Anna then cornered him – again – with a threat to expose him to the council if he kept this shit up. His first response was, of course, to tell her exactly where she could shove it, but he needed her as much as she needed him.
He supplied the crystal. She supplied the Bennett witch.
So, in order to be reunited with Katherine, Damon had to play the role of a good model citizen for a few weeks. Fine. But no one said he couldn't have any fun in the process.
And spending time with Elena was fun.
Elena, meanwhile, snuck away to the manor's library. Her heart was practically beating out of her chest as she found a book on Victorian flower language. She'd gotten a compliment on her corsage from one of Carol Lockwood's snooty friends, haughtily claiming that only Founding Family members would have the requisite class to combine gardenias, salvias, pink roses, and the thornless stem of rose into such a complex and romantic statement. It took all of Elena's willpower to not visibly roll her eyes skyward at her elitism, but it made her profoundly curious.
What statement?
Avoiding revealing the identity of her mysterious 'admirer,' as the woman called him, she made a quick excuse to look into the matter.
She opened the book with trembling fingers, her heart's tempo seemingly increasing with each definition she learned – positively alight with romance.
That was until she read what the thornless rose meant. 'Love at first sight.' And then it was as though ice flooded her veins.
"Katherine." That was his first word to her. At first sight, Damon had thought she was someone else. She wiped at the traitorous tears that instantly flooded her eyes as she felt a bit of her heart shatter, hoping that she wasn't smearing any of her make-up. She felt so pathetic. He was just screwing with her – just playing with a naïve girl until he got what she really wanted.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm as she replaced the book on its shelf. It didn't matter. Anna said they'd try to open the tomb sometime this week, if they managed to convince Bonnie and her Grams to help – which would be a task in and of itself – and Damon would leave.
He and his smirk, and his penetrating gaze, and his wit, and his insight, and the way he makes her feel like she deserves to be happy and herself again - and the way he makes her heart feel like she's drowning and burning all at once, in the most exhilarating way - would be gone. And she could start to heal from that, too. Better he leaves now before she falls even more for a guy clearly interested in someone else – someone who's just using her as a distraction.
She left the library morosely, the world around her almost dissipating as she became enraptured by her gloomy thoughts, that she didn't feel Damon take her hand as soon as she walked back into the ballroom and pull her into a dance.
"What's the matter, Pouty?" he asked cheekily as he spun her, leading her to wrap her arms around his neck.
"Having fun pretending I'm Katherine?" Elena asked with more bite than she intended, hating how jealous she sounded.
"Is that what Anna's been telling you?" Damon asked with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrow.
"No, it's what logic is telling me. I look like your Lost Lenore – therefore, and I'm not going to say 'ergo,' because I'm not a pretentious ass-hat," she wagged her finger playfully, hoping that she sounded breezy enough to hide the pain in her voice.
Damon, meanwhile, got the distinct impression that she was referencing someone very specific. Stef? He really hoped that his brother slipped and regurgitated a barrage of pompous gems between bouts of self-indulgent moping.
He knew that Stefan had some unsuccessful attempts at courtship, and even offered her a vervain pendant that had been in his possession since the 1920s. Damon intuited as much by the new, baby frown lines trying to fight their way to the surface amid a crowded sea of veterans on the fire hazard that was Stefan's forehead. He sulked and moped over it for a good hour, and Damon felt his mood brighten astronomically that evening. Watching Steffie get grumpy and grumbly was always a delight.
"Lost Lenore? Poe references are a bit on-the-nose for a guy with a corvid, aren't they?" Damon tutted with a very disappointed shake of his head. "I expected better from you, Elena."
Elena smiled despite her best intentions, desperately trying to hide how their flirtation affected her, though based on his growing smirk, it appeared he noticed. Her face instantly fell again as she recalled that this was likely just a game to him. That's all she and her feelings were. "I'm not Katherine, Damon," she said with a sincere and almost penetrating sadness for which she could have kicked herself. Didn't champagne normally put her in a good mood? Why was she being so emotional? Maybe it wasn't the one tiny little glass she had, she reasoned – but rather the company.
"I know," he said softly, visibly troubled by her words. "I know you're not, Elena. You and Katherine…" he paused, evidently trying to think of the right words. "You're different, so different."
"How so?" she asked, her curiosity piquing.
"Katherine was a complicated person," Damon finally said, after thinking about it for a few seconds. "She's cunning, bordering on brilliant. She could wrap someone around her finger in almost no time at all. She's lithe, confident, a femme fatale – a real predator. She can be very cruel, but sexy and seductive enough for it to be overlooked," he explained, and with every word, he saw Elena practically closing off, the light behind her eyes dimming. He frowned, something deep within him profoundly distraught over her apparent pain at his words. With a jerky nod, she moved to separate from him, but he held her close. "But you've a different kind of charm. You're clever, too, and insightful – which surprised me. I didn't expect it, and it's sexy as fuck. You have a warmth about you – a glow. It shines on everyone around you. And I know you don't have a lot of reasons to smile right now – but when you do, it's like the Sun. You're the light, Elena – it's a fitting name," he intoned softly, feeling the clenching around his chest release with the light blush on her cheeks. When her dark eyes met his – somehow even more expressive than Katherine's and filled with kindness, affection, mirth, he thought he felt his own breath catch for an instant. He quickly shook the notion away. It's because she looks like her, he told himself. That's the only reasonable explanation for this irritating malfunction of his switch every time she was near. Why was he so averse to hurting her – so compelled to ease her pain and bring her joy?
It wouldn't matter soon, anyway. Just a few more days – weeks at the most – and he could leave this town and Elena in the dust. Why did that notion hurt so much? He shook it off again. He needed to get a hold of himself.
Now that the crystal was safely tucked away in his suit jacket's inside pocket, he could easily move on to phase two of his plan for the evening. Sweet, entertaining revenge.
After his brother tried to pull a spiked bourbon stunt on him earlier that day, convinced that he was somehow hurting Elena, he knew to be careful at the party. Peripherally, he noticed him spike some champagne. What a rube. No originality, whatsoever.
Once the dance ended, he kissed Elena's hand again just to listen to her heartbeat accelerate – just to stroke his own ego, of course, he calmly told himself – and took off toward Carol to discuss an idea he pitched earlier.
Elena's heart beat in allegro as she watched Damon walk away toward Mrs. Lockwood, only to run into Stefan, who offered her a glass of champagne. Never one to resist an offer of tantalizing bubbly, she smiled and gladly took the preferred drink.
"Thanks! Where's Caroline?" she asked pointedly, not wanting her friend – who admittedly suffered from some very serious insecurity when it came to affections from romantic targets – to feel betrayed. She saw that Stefan and Caroline arrived together.
"She's around," he said evasively, then scratched the back of his head nervously. "Listen, Elena, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable earlier today when I offered you the necklace. I wanted to apologize if you thought –"
"Stefan, you can't offer me a beautiful necklace while you're dating one of my friends," she interrupted softly, putting him out of his misery.
"Caroline and I aren't dating!" he was quick to correct. "We're here as friends." Elena frowned, concerned that Caroline might not see it that way, but he was quick to continue. "That necklace – it would make me feel better if you wear it."
"I'm already wearing vervain, Stefan," she said gently, but firmly. It was time to drop the act.
He looked taken aback for a second, then pressed on. "I don't think you are. I know my brother – there's no way he gave you real vervain. He just wants to lull you into a false sense of security," he said seriously, desperate for her to understand. "Do you have any bite marks on you?"
Elena frowned, feeling herself growing irritated. Even Anna hadn't gone so far as to accuse Damon of manipulating her this way, and her paranoia about him was through the roof, to say the least. Though given her experience with Damon's choice of romantic partner, Elena could grudgingly understand her concerns, even if she didn't share them. This was completely uncalled for, however – especially from a guy whose interactions with her revolved primarily around creepy staring. "No, I don't," she answered in a clipped tone.
Stefan still appeared troubled, instead trying a different approach. "So, you know about us." It was a statement. All pretense of ignorance about the supernatural, gone.
"Yep," Elena replied, no change in her tone.
"Then I guess I can finally tell you the truth," he continued, looking somehow both nervous and relieved. "That time we ran into each other outside in the school hallway – it wasn't the first time we met." When Elena's eyebrows drew together in apparent consternation, he continued. "It was earlier, in May – on the night your parents died," he said quietly, letting the moment fall as Elena's eyes widened.
"You –" she began, not knowing – fearing – what his role in the accident was.
"I was the one who pulled you out of the river," he interrupted quickly, sensing where the direction of her thoughts was going, and opting to cut it off at the pass. "Your father gestured for me to save you first, and I did. I wanted to save your parents, too, but when I came back …" he trailed off. "Will you please take the necklace now? I just want to protect you now, as I did then."
Elena nodded numbly. That made sense – that tracked with everything the confusing police report suggested. One second she was underwater, and in the next instant, she woke up ashore. Although people have tried to tell her that she merely blocked out the memories of swimming out of the vehicle, it made little sense to her. She didn't have anything resembling the physical strength to fight against the added force of water pressure at that depth to open the car door – fight or flight response only went so far. And wouldn't she have at least tried to save her parents?
He saved her life. She'd been rude and dismissive of him, while she owed him her life. Just how many more times did she need to prove to herself that she was a horrible person?
Stefan smiled almost imperceptibly, pulling out the necklace and placing it around a shellshocked Elena's neck. As she finally chanced a glance up, she saw Damon staring at them with an inscrutable expression, though the telltale tightening of his jaw suggested to her that he was far from happy about the turn of events. Before Elena could analyze his behavior further, he turned on his heels, and left the party.
Why the fuck did seeing Stefan place that necklace around Elena's neck bother him so much? Did she take it from him because she believed his bullshit story about giving her fake vervain? Yeah, sure, he'd been fucking with Stefan since he got here, and more or less implying that he planned to turn every human here into his puppet, but he'd been nothing but honest with Elena – after the veil behind Anna's prank came down, of course. He needed a drink – a real one. He needed to get the fuck out of this stifling town and sink his fangs into a human neck and get some warm blood, straight from the vein. Maybe even rip some fucking throats out. If nothing else, it would make him feel better and tuck his humanity switch firmly in place, where it belonged.
It had to be because she looked like Katherine, and it brought back nauseating memories from 1864, right? That had to be it. It couldn't be anything more.
"Damon!" he heard Elena's breathless voice as he walked down the garden. She must have run after him. He turned around slowly, guarded. "I didn't believe him that it was fake," she breathed, taking a step closer. "I know you wouldn't trick me like that."
He willed his signature sardonic smirk onto his face, expression devil-may-care as ever despite his inner turmoil, and tilted his head to the side. "So are you two kids going steady now? Did Steffie lure you in with his 'tortured soul' gimmick? Are you two shopping for heavy-duty skincare? Because I have to warn you - all the botox in the world doesn't stand a chance against the mighty force of the Forehead of Self-Righteousness," he mock-chided with a musical lilt to his voice, biting sarcasm just tracing the edges of his tone.
Elena just looked taken aback, unsure why he would jump to that conclusion, though she couldn't fight the rising traces of a smile of his description of Stefan.
"You're wearing his necklace," he said simply.
Elena fiddled with it for a few silent moments. "He saved my life, Damon," she accentuated, an almost pleading tone to her voice, willing him to understand. "I have to… I can't –"
His sigh was pronounced enough to be audible as he finally allowed his guard to drop, the situation making a depressing kind of sense to him. He closed the distance between them, and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, his gaze penetrating as he searched her eyes. "Life debts are outdated, Elena. You don't owe him anything."
"You don't understand," she choked, dark eyes filling with tears as the memories from that night assailed her, forcing her to relive them. The force of the river flooding the car, the waves of panic as she counted her last moments, stretching into eons – and then, waking up on the riverbank. Lost, alone, but hopeful – so very hopeful – only the have the last shreds of that hope decimated in a cold hospital room, freezing what was left of the girl she was before.
"I do," he said quietly, letting his fingers stroke her shoulders affectionately, his thumbs tracing comforting patterns to and fro.
In the distance, a pair of eyes belonging to a man whose auditory perception was not strong enough to hear the whispered conversation waited for a bite – and with it, his moment to strike, and to rid the town of a perceived menace. But the bite never came.
"Keep the necklace, Elena. I told you before that I want you to have multiple pieces of vervain on you at all times – and start drinking it, too," Damon said affectionately, his face drawing closer to hers of its own volition.
She looked up at him through her tears, between intermittent glances at his lips which were drawing closer. She licked her own in anticipation, her heart rate accelerating. At the last second, however, his face drew up, and she felt the softest kiss against her forehead, before he pulled back to look at her. His expression was profoundly sad, almost resigned. What she would have given to learn what he was thinking. "Damon…" she whispered before she knew what to say – how to articulate the tidal waves of emotion in her heart.
"Be safe, Elena," he softly replied, and walked into the night.
Anna, in the meantime, was occupying herself with examining the generously diverse charcuterie display – mostly with her tastebuds – and stuffing her face with all its impressive variety of meats and cheeses. Elegantly, of course. All the while, she had to fend off awkward attempts at flirting by the resident townies, including one Jeremy Gilbert, who clearly decided that his sister's bestie should be the honored object of his sexual reawakening. At least it got him to forget about Vicki Donovan, Anna reasoned, popping another sharp cheddar cube in her mouth. And who could fault the kid for having such impeccable taste?
She noted a clearly bewildered Elena reenter the abode and look around as if in a trance for a moment, before she spotted the vampire and headed over.
"Where were you?" Anna asked, before picking up some goat cheese. "You have to try this, E! Amazing."
"Oh my God," Elena moaned, knocked out of her stupor by the taste of the offered item. The gentle texture was smeared on a cheese cracker, and it was divine. "Literally the only reason to go to these parties."
"Why are you wearing Stefan's gaudy necklace?" Anna laughed when she noticed the offending item on Elena's neck, while piling more food onto her plate – and secretly always eager to brag about her superior metabolism to jealous partygoers. "Did he cry you into submission?"
Before Elena could answer, however, the girls were distracted by delicate clinking on a crystal champagne flute. The hostess continued until the room was swept in silence and all attention was on Carol Lockwood. "Thank you all for attending our annual Founders' Party and Heritage Display!" she announced, staying silent as she waited for the applause to dissipate. "Although we must apologize that some items are notably missing," she continued with thinly-veiled irritation, making eye contact with Elena, I'd like to announce a new event that will take place this season to honor the good citizens of our beloved town. For the first time ever, our fine home will proudly host the Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls Pageant!" Carol announced cheerfully.
"A kiddie pageant?" Anna whispered to Elena, turning to make sure her face wasn't in Carol's direct line of sight and emoting vomiting with her finger down her throat. "Just when I thought town couldn't get any more backward."
"And the name! Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls? Who came up with that cumbersome nonsense?" Elena scoffed.
"And the best part," Carol continued, "is that our very own Elena Gilbert and Anna Zhu volunteered to serve as judges. Everyone please give them a round of applause!"
"WHAT!?" Anna growled; the volume of her exclamation drowned out by the clapping of the party's enthusiastic attendees. "That motherfucker."
The following morning saw the girls at a car wash that served as a fundraiser for football and cheerleading uniforms for underprivileged members of Mystic Falls High School's athletic teams. It was an unusually warm September still – which allowed the respective team members to shed their clothing in favor of swimwear in hopes for getting tips from prospective customers. Caroline organized the event – of course – like every other that had thus far happened that year.
Elena inwardly growled as she leaned over to clean the third car to come to her station. Anna had abandoned her that morning to see if she could somehow fix the debacle to which Damon had apparently assigned them, in what she supposed was petty revenge for Anna's stunt regarding his so-called retrograde amnesia. What an ass. He clearly enjoyed messing with her during that whole spectacle, too!
It was at that moment that the object of her at once attraction and irritation casually strolled onto the scene, availing himself of his outerwear to stand in front of her wearing nothing but navy swim trunks – even then he managed to dress in a way that brought out his eyes, never mind his perfectly sculpted physique. Elena stifled another growl, not wishing to explore whether it was one born of anger or another, less welcome reaction.
"Good morning, E-le-na," he intoned with sultry musicality as he sauntered over to her station.
"You have a lot of nerve showing up here after what you did," she answered in a frustrated huff, crossing her arms over her chest – anything to hide her physical reaction to him.
He smirked. That outright jerk must have noticed. "What I did?" he asked, the picture of innocence as he clutched his chest in sardonic disbelief. "I'm just here to support the local educational establishment. Let it never be said that I don't give to charity."
"You?" Elena asked dubiously with a pointedly raised eyebrow.
"I'm the very essence of eleemosynary ideals, Elena," he mock-scoffed, looking scandalized, though the growing grin on his face told a different story.
"How sesquipedalian of you," she deadpanned sarcastically, trying her very best - and failing - to hide the smile that rose on her face. She always seemed to be smiling when she was with him.
"What? You clearly know how to read, per our little impromptu book club," he pressed, then wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "which I'm happy to continue at any time, in a more intimate atmosphere. The stacks in our library are nice and insulated – very soundproof," he leaned in to whisper in her ear, satisfied when her breath became shakier, goosebumps sprinkling her skin.
Fighting against her very obvious arousal, Elena grabbed a rag, pasted a giant grin on her face, and turned to Damon with faux cheer and layered sarcasm. "Well! Might as well make yourself useful!" she chirped, shoving the wet and soapy rag into his chest.
He only laughed in return, taking the offending object and tossing it aside. "Nah, my charitable contribution is letting the sadly deprived denizens of Mystic Falls gaze at sexy perfection, for once." He snuck a look about the space, smug to note that he had the undivided attention of the bulk of the women present, and a good chunk of the men. If there was one passive activity Damon Salvatore loved, it was being ogled. "Aaaaand, that's enough altruism for today. Enjoy Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls, Elena," he said with a wink, savoring her name like long-held forbidden desire, and sauntered away, making sure to look back and catch her glance of utmost frustration.
And it was only frustration with his behavior, she told herself. Absolutely nothing else. That was it.
The kiddie pageant prank idea was inspired by "Harley Quinn" (the hilariously brilliant animated show on MAX). Poison Ivy was once tricked into judging one and she absolutely hated it - for idealistic reasons - and Anna's channeling some of that here. :D
I hadn't expected this chapter to turn out quite so serious at times when I started out, but here we go. (Or to be this long, because wow! :D)
Yes, Anna is definitely wrong about Damon's intentions (which she'll realize soon enough), but her paranoia is understandable, given her experience with both Katherine and Noah. She just doesn't want to lose anyone else she cares about – especially to the machinations of Katherine Pierce.
I'm finishing up Legacies, and I'm very happy to find that TVDU showrunners finally overturned their super-dumb TVD S4 idea that "no humanity = no feelings." So, so, so amazingly stupid, because they all clearly showed feelings.
Anyway, in Legacies 4X11, Hope's speaks to her in her head, and in response to the character insisting that she can't feel anything (which, cool, definitely makes it seem like less a retcon and more an elaboration), the humanity says: "But in the meantime, I'd like to point out that you feel plenty of powerful things, too. Anger. Resentment. Rage. Humanity is just the strength to not give into them. So, make no mistake. You are the most emotional person that I've ever met. And I know Lizzie Saltzman." (I love Lizzie! :D Her character arc and development – fantastic.)
So, YAY, TVDU showrunners overturned this asinine idea with a much more sensible one, and I'm super-happy.
So, we yes, official confirmation that "no humanity = no feelings" is an incorrect interpretation. Thank goodness!
"No humanity = no empathy," on the other hand, still very much tracks.
Also, the notion of a vampire's humanity speaking to them in their head, trying to break free? So cool! :D
Thank you all for being utterly delightful. Much love. :D
