AN 2022: I've recently come back around to edit this up and try to better represent what the story has become as of 2022. That being said, the style / harsh written accent of my lovely Irish OC Eve (Eibhlín) will fade out (but just know it's still there, but later not written out). So, if you're willing to stick around for some pining, angst, right person-wrong time shenanigans of the chaotic duo that is Damon and Eve, stick around!
Prologue (I of IV)
Mystic Falls ; 1912
"Eibhlín NicBranagáin, she's just over dere." Eibhlín heard her mother's accent rise through the quiet conversations of the mourning crowd. The silver and auburn hair caught Eibhlín's sight almost instantly. It was hard to blend in with the crowd of dark-haired individuals, even if her mother's hair was on the darker side of red. Looking at her aging mother, Eibhlín rolled her eyes and folded her arms. She knew what her mother was up to; and at a funeral no less...Eibhlín's mother was trying to find her a suitor.
Eibhlín stood near the edge of the clearing, where the funeral was taking place, near a small group of people. Eibhlín didn't want to be around people, especially with her mother trying to marry her off to a possible mourning relative of the deceased. Eibhlín didn't even know Zachariah Salvatore. She knew of him, but she had never met the man. He always seemed like such an important person. Eibhlín was surprised her mother hadn't introduced the two before his untimely death. He was single, as far as Eibhlín knew. Well…he was single. Eibhlín kept herself from snorting at her own morbid joke.
For years, Eibhlín's mother had been trying to find her a proper suitor. With Eibhlín having turned 22 six months before that September, her mother was in a rush to have her married and with child in the next month…or at least as soon as possible. Even if that meant trying to find suitors at a funeral…Eibhlín was tired of meeting unknown men who had nothing in common with her, and Eibhlín had been tired for quite a while. After meeting the sixth man who acted exactly like her father, Eibhlín had refused to speak to any more men her mother deemed fit…which was turning into any man with a beating heart. Eibhlín knew her mother would throw her to the wolves if those wolves happened to be male. Eibhlín scowled at the thought.
"Maybe if ya just find a suitor ya like, Ma would stop pesterin' any man under de age of 45 with a pulse dat she meets." Eibhlín turned around at the familiar lilt of her older brother's voice. Séamus stood with a small smile on his lips as he looked down at his little sister…due to both his height, his older age, and the fact that he had been writing love letters to some woman that lived in Boston, thus did not have their mother on his back about marriage. Eibhlín let out an annoyed sigh, mocking her brother under her breath. "I am only tellin' ya de truth, deirfiúr leanbh." Séamus mused back with a soft chuckle.
"Ya would dink she would try at one of de Lockwood's parties and not at a Salvatore funeral." Eibhlín grumbled back to her brother. "Ya can not tell me dat it is not in poor taste ta find a suitor at a funeral, deartháir?" Eibhlín asked him with a little stomp of her foot, speaking Irish back to him as if it hadn't been months since she last spoke their family language. Séamus only chuckled at her childish behavior.
"Aye, dat is a bit in bad taste, even fer our mother." Séamus agreed as the two watched the older woman talk a young man's ear off. The man looked slightly mortified. "However, she has tried ta find ya a suitor at a Lockwood party before and I believe ya trew a drink at de man fer sayin' ya could lose a few kilograms." Séamus teased back, poking Eibhlín's side, making her flinch before she turned and quickly punched her brother in the arm. "Now dat's not very lady-like!" Séamus snapped playfully, rubbing his arm as the two ignored the dark looks they received for their actions. Eibhlín rolled her eyes and folded her arms tightly against her chest the best she could in her slightly too-tight dress.
"I would have actually hit him if ya had not been holdin' me back." Eibhlín muttered bitterly, nudging her brother with her shoulder, sticking her tongue out at the group that had previously thrown glares their way.
"Would ya have dought de same ding if Da found out?" Séamus chided back at her due to Eibhlín's behavior. Eibhlín flinched once more at simply the thought. Their father was not a forgiving man… "Speakin' of our father, have ya seen him?" Séamus questioned, looking around the crowd with ease due to his height. Eibhlín didn't bother to look for the old man.
"I try and keep me distance when I have de opportunity." Eibhlín mumbled. Séamus sighed in response.
"I better go and find him den. He said he was goin' ta de Lockwood's estate, and I know de Lockwood's will be servin' wine…" Séamus said, glancing down at Eibhlín. Eibhlín only nodded, keeping her mouth shut tightly. Their father was not a nice man, and he became an even worse one when he had a sip of alcohol…which seemed to be a daily occurrence after moving to the small town of Mystic Falls. "Stay out of trouble, Ebi. I know dat is askin' a lot fer de likes of ya." Séamus quipped, patting Eibhlín's head affectionately before making his way around the crowd towards where the Lockwood's estate was. Eibhlín let out a small huff, making sure her hair had not been smashed by her brother's irritating habit of touching her affectionately. Even with her short height of only 5'1" (155cm), she could still see his dark and curly auburn hair.
It wasn't hard to miss Séamus, nor was it hard to miss their father. Both men stood at almost 6'2" (188cm), and both towered over the short stature of both Eibhlín and her mother, who was slightly taller than her at 5'4" (164cm), and that was without the heels she always wore, putting her at closer to 5'7" (170cm). Séamus took more after their mother in terms of looks, sharing her dark jade-colored eyes and dark auburn curls. Eibhlín, reluctantly, took after their father; her eyes a much lighter emerald color than his, sharing his light copper-colored hair with unruly curls to match. However, the NicBranagáin's all shared the same, similar pale skin with freckles splashed randomly. Séamus had more freckles across his forehead than on his cheeks, their mother had more freckles across her body, their father had more freckles that were simply splashed across his harsh face while Eibhlín's freckles were heaviest across her cheeks, but did cover her face and body. Luckily, Séamus only took his father's height and not his temper…or thirst for alcohol.
Eibhlín found herself drifting more towards the edge of the woods, further from people. Eibhlín did not wish to speak with anyone, wanting only the quiet of the trees. Maybe she could avoid her mother as well…Unless there were some creatures in the woods that her mother would like to set her up with, and if that were the case, depending on the creature, Eibhlín would at least try. Eibhlín had a curious nature, even if it meant falling into danger. But nothing fun happens with Eibhlín. The mysterious deaths of certain members of the founding family members was the most fun Eibhlín had, and even then, it wasn't that fun.
"Evelyn?" Eibhlín heard a soft voice pull her attention back from the woods and towards the crowd. Eibhlín turned and saw Marianna Lockwood approaching her with Samantha Gilbert. Samantha gave a small goodbye to Marianna before taking a sharp left and turning back towards a larger group of people to talk to. Eibhlín tried to get the irritation of Marianna butchering the pronunciation of her name out of her mind, as she gave a soft smile back to the woman. Eibhlín didn't care as much about the proper pronunciation as her mother did, and she refused to ever become her mother…"Evelyn?" Marianna asked again, looking hesitantly at Eibhlín. Eibhlín gave a small wave of her hand to indicate that she had heard Marianna. Marianna was saying her name right, but it was in an American accent. It simply sounded strange in her foreign ears. Boston had so many Irish immigrants, whereas Mystic Falls…did not.
"Hello, Miss Lockwood." Eibhlín greeted, taking a step towards Marianna to better meet the taller woman who now stood in front of her.
"Please, call me Marianna." Marianna said with a soft smile. "We are practically neighbors, after all." Marianna cooed gently. Eibhlín kept herself from rolling her eyes at the tone that Marianna had taken with her. Ever so proper.
"Aye, Miss Lockwood-er, Marianna." Eibhlín corrected herself. Marianna's hands began to twist together, bunching up her black gloves as she did so. Eibhlín noticed the small motion. Eibhlín had to recognize those small movements when she was around her father…
"I saw you without the company of your family." Marianna explained, looking around. "No one should be alone in these dark times, Evelyn." Marianna continued, dropping her voice to a more quiet whisper. As if it was a secret why everyone was gathered together. Eibhlín couldn't help but smile at Marianna.
"It is not like someone is goin' ta try and kill me in cold blood, Miss Lockwood." Eibhlín retorted frankly. Marianna's eyes widened at the statement. Marianna looked around them quickly before she grabbed Eibhlín's wrists and pulled her away from a small group that had slowly gotten closer to the two. Eibhlín flinched at the touch, but followed Marianna without making a sound.
"How did you know that Zachariah was…" Marianna began to question, but trailed off, quickly glancing around the two cautiously. Eibhlín furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
"We were not supposed ta know?" Eibhlín wondered with a cock of her head, watching as Marianna shook her head. "Why would I not know?" Eibhlín asked, now folding her arms suspiciously. "Me father is in de council and Zachariah was not de first ta die in such a curious way." Eibhlín stated bluntly with a shrug of her shoulders. Marianna's eyes widened at the comment, but Eibhlín ignored the shocked look of the woman and continued. "With how little is bein' done, it's simple logic ta dink someone else will be killed before de months end." Eibhlín said thoughtfully, tapping her chin to really emphasize her darkening thoughts. "Do ya dink dat de council's families should not be informed of de mysterious deaths?" Eibhlín inquired, cocking her head slightly to the left, feeling her copper-red hair gently sliding off her shoulders. Marianna glared back at Eibhlín.
"Yes, you should know, but you should also not speak so bluntly about the murder of Zachariah." Marianna growled back at Eibhlín. Eibhlín bit her tongue to keep herself from snapping back at the woman. Marianna shook her head and let out a disappointed sigh. "I must say, a few of the families have spoken about your family moving to the town before all of these accidents…It does seem rather odd…" Marianna murmured softly, shaking her head.
"You and others are dinkin' of me family as murderers den?" Eibhlín questioned sharply, cocking her head to the opposite side. Marianna's eyes widened as she realized what she had muttered out loud. Eibhlín clicked her tongue. "A terrible novel, Miss Lockwood. I suggest ya not become a writer with such nonsense ideas." Eibhlín advised, watching Marianna squirm in discomfort.
"Miss NicBranagain." Marianna hissed back sharply, shaking her head in a very disapproving way. Eibhlín didn't stop the roll of her eyes.
"I'm simply havin' fun with ya, Miss Lockwood." Eibhlín quipped, folding her arms. "Ya can't tell me dat ya would read such drivel with such a predictable endin'." Eibhlín snickered. Marianna folded her own arms with a scowl on her face.
"It would sound much more interesting if people were not actually dying, Miss NicBranagain." Marianna chastised. "This is not a book, Evelyn; do not treat this situation as a novel. People have lost their lives." Marianna continued sternly, her hands going to her hips. Eibhlín rolled her eyes once more.
"I know dat dis is no novel, Miss Lockwood." Eibhlín grumbled back. "I was just tryin' ta lighten de mood…It is a dark time." Eibhlín shrugged, feeling the familiar guilt that lived inside of her gut. Eibhlín hated being talked to as if she was a child. She knew that the world was no fairytale; people died, but Eibhlín had only ever known how to handle sadness from slight jabs and sarcastic comments…Eibhlín was tired of being such a people-pleaser…but that's all she ever knew. Eibhlín had no power, except for the dismissal of suitors her mother picked for her…And Marianna was obviously not enjoying Eibhlín's quips. Eibhlín wasn't enjoying Marianna's company either.
"You are not your mother, Evelyn." Marianna snarled back. Eibhlín felt her heart flutter anxiously. As if mentioning her mother would make the older woman appear. "Ailís is only light in these dark times," She continued, more to herself than to Eibhlín, but Eibhlín noticed the different effort that was given to saying her mother's name right compared to her name. "The brighter you become, the larger your shadow becomes compared to hers." Marianna mumbled back towards Eibhlín. Eibhlín blinked at Marianna's harsh words before rolling her eyes, despite the ache in her chest. Her eyes darted anywhere to avoid Marianna's intense gaze afterward. She had enough of the intense gaze, knowing that Marianna wanted a reaction…Much like Eibhlín had wanted a reaction to Marianna's discomfort with her brass words earlier. Eibhlín wouldn't give her the same satisfaction of a reaction. Samantha Gilbert's eyes caught Eibhlín's attention instead. Samantha turned quickly.
Something about Samantha Gilbert seemed…different. Samantha had been involved in the accidents that were happening with the council somehow…Eibhlin knew not to blurt that sort of suspicion out. Not like Marianna had with her own suspicions of Eibhlín's family. There was no evidence or proof of Samantha being anything but a quiet founding member. Eibhlín only had a feeling as if Samantha was guilty, just by the way she had been acting. It didn't seem normal to Eibhlín. Who would believe an Irish woman with no husband or suitor when trying to blame a woman whose family was part of the town's founding families. Plus, if Samantha was killing people in the council, Eibhlín's father was part of the council, and maybe…Eibhlín would hold out hope that one day her father would succumb to a violent death…
"Evelyn." Eibhlín blinked and looked back at Marianna. Marianna's eyebrow was raised suspiciously, turning towards where Eibhlín was looking towards. Eibhlín let out a hum to acknowledge that she had heard Marianna, but in truth, Eibhlín was thinking much darker thoughts that she wanted to see finished in her mind about her father. "What are you looking at?" Marianna questioned, still suspicious of Eibhlín. Eibhlín blinked, looking at Marianna before turning her gaze back towards where she had been looking while daydreaming.
"Just…me…Ma!" Eibhlín blurted with a smile, seeing the aging woman, now talking with a different man than the man she had been talking to earlier. "She is tryin' ta find a suitor fer me." Eibhlín explained casually. As if she had been watching the interaction unfold and not letting her mind wander. A woman's imagination was not a desirable trait to have. Eibhlín nearly rolled her eyes at that idea in itself.
"A beautiful young woman like yourself?" Eibhlín heard behind both her and Marianna, making Eibhlín turn around quickly, nearly hearing her rapid heartbeat in her ears at the man who had seemed to appear behind the two. "I would have assumed you would have more than a dozen suitors lined up to take your hand." The man continued with a smile, taking off his hat politely. Eibhlín looked the man up and down, feeling her cheeks begin to burn at the sweet comment, letting out a nervous laugh at his comment. Eibhlín mentally wanted to hit herself. She would have rolled her eyes if this man wasn't so handsome; with dirty blond hair, a sharp jawline, and pretty green eyes, Eibhlín didn't want him to think her rude.
"Aye, but ya find de best suitors a funeral; did ya not know dat?" Eibhlín asked, placing her hands on her hips playfully. The man's sternum moved gently as he let out a silent laugh. Marianna glanced between the two, deciding who to give the stern look that flooded across her features. Eibhlín glanced over at Marianna, annoyed with the woman's stern look before it changed to a softer look as she turned towards the man.
"My apologies, Mister Salvatore, I did not see or hear you walk up to us." Marianna's once soft and kind voice came back out, rather than the disapproving growls she had muttered towards Eibhlín. Eibhlín kept herself from rolling her eyes at this woman again for how quickly she could put on a pretty face and tone.
"Hello again, Miss Lockwood." The man said with a polite smile and nod toward Marianna. "I do not believe we have met, Miss…" The man trailed off, expecting a name from Eibhlín. Eibhlín blinked, realizing that she had yet to introduce herself to the mysterious man.
"NicBranagáin." Eibhlín responded aloud quickly, noticing the visible cringe from Marianna. Eibhlín nearly shot the woman a glare as she realized the mistake as well. "Er, E-Eibhlín NicBranagáin, dat is." Eibhlín stuttered her full name, only then realizing how thick her accent was when talking with two different people who weren't Irish. Usually her mother or brother was with her, and both of them did most of the talking, so the accents didn't seem so…harsh. Eibhlín felt her ears begin to burn up from her cheeks, knowing she had made herself look a fool in front of this handsome man. Of course she would make herself look stupid.
"Irish?" The mysterious Salvatore pondered, mocking a shocked expression. Eibhlín raised an eyebrow back at him, but nodded. "I would never have guessed. Your, um, your accent was hidden until just now." He continued, sarcasm dripping from his words as he spoke with his hands. Eibhlín let herself snicker, irritated at the heat that lingered in her cheeks, but enjoying the sarcasm from this man. "Stefan Salvatore." He introduced himself with a smile, holding out his hand to properly introduce himself. Eibhlín gave Stefan her hand, giving him a small curtsy as he kissed the back of her hand. Eibhlín kept her head down. Luckily, if her mother saw her, Eibhlín had done her mother's form of a proper curtsy by keeping her eyes on the ground the whole time. Eibhlín never usually curtsied how her mother wanted, always wanting to show the men she was being introduced to that she wasn't going to be the average woman by either not properly curtsying, or simply keeping eye contact with said men. Most men were shocked, some appalled, by the rude gesture of the eye contact, or improper curtsy, but Eibhlín thought this Stefan wouldn't have given her such a rude look…However, Eibhlín wanted to try and compose herself and let her cheeks stop burning so hotly before looking back up at the man. Eibhlín almost didn't notice Marianna looking between the two disapprovingly.
"Mister Salvatore is Zachariah's nephew." Marianna finally spoke up. That was one way to relieve Eibhlín's face of the burning red color that had been bright across her pale, freckled cheeks. All the color seemed to drain from her face at the realization. Eibhlín had joked about finding a suitor at the funeral of Stefan's uncle. The two didn't look very similar to each other, or at least enough to be uncle and nephew. Eibhlín should have realized that their last names were the same and used caution. She was so stupid.
"I-I'm so sorry. I did not-if I had known…" Eibhlín found herself stumbling over her words. "I apologize fer makin' such a crude joke pertainin' ta me personal affairs in regards ta me mother findin' me a suitor at a funeral, which ya are a grievin' member of." Eibhlín finally apologized, bowing her head low in embarrassment, feeling her once drained face begin to burn again in embarrassment rather than the original flustered nature. Stefan shook his head softly, trying to give a reassuring smile back to Eibhlín, but Eibhlín kept her eyes on where she knew her black heels were, under her mother's old lacy black mourning dress.
"I appreciate the apology, but it is not needed, Miss NicBranagáin." Eibhlín looked back up at Stefan, surprised by the fact that he didn't want her apology, as well as the fact that he put the effort into saying her last name correctly. A warmth wrapped around her heart. Stefan gave a reassuring smile back at her as Marianna folded her arms.
"I know it has been some time since you have been to this town, Mister Salvatore, but there must be some decorum with matters such as your uncle's death." Marianna stated sharply, her tone now changing back to the disapproving one she had used with Eibhlín. "Your family is part of the founding families, and you and your brother are, as far as I am aware, the last Salvatore's." Marianna said matter-of-factly. Eibhlín noticed Stefan both tense up and flash a look of confusion before turning to Marianna a little more.
"My apologies, Miss Lockwood, but I do not believe that Miss NicBranagáin, nor I, meant any harm in trying to lighten the mood." Stefan explained back with a small apologetic smile towards Marianna. Marianna's face went blank, but Eibhlín could see the struggle she was having in keeping her face from scowling at his response.
"By any means, just try and not be so blatantly disrespectful towards the dead. This town knew and respected Zachariah, even if either of you did not." Marianna snarled with a nod of her head. "I will take my leave now." Marianna remarked, giving a small bow towards Stefan before sending Eibhlín a sharp glare before turning and walking swiftly away from the two. Eibhlín looked over to Stefan, who was looking troubled with Marianna's exit. Eibhlín shook her head.
"I would not worry about her, Mister Salvatore." Eibhlín insisted, bringing Stefan's attention back down to her. "She is…" Eibhlín trailed off, trying to find the right words to describe Marianna on a good day…but finding none that were particularly nice. Stefan cocked his head slightly in question with Eibhlín's lack of response. Eibhlín let out a soft chuckle. "I was tryin' ta say somethin' nice about her, but I seem ta be failin' ta find anythin' nice about her." Eibhlín shrugged gently. Stefan chuckled gently before squawking pulled both Eibhlín and Stefan's attention over to a crow sitting atop a headstone. Eibhlín turned back to Stefan, but noticed him looking at the crow, even more troubled than he had looked previously. Eibhlín looked back at the crow curiously before looking back at Stefan. "Do I need ta leave ya and de crow alone?" Eibhlín teased gently, raising an eyebrow at the man. Stefan looked back to Eibhlín before shaking his head and smiling gently.
"No, Miss Eibhlín." Stefan said, his smile cautious. Despite the fluttering in her heart at the proper pronunciation of her first name, Eibhlín raised an eyebrow back at him. She could practically feel his discomfort with the crow situation. Perhaps he was afraid of birds. "Crows are said to be a sign of death." Stefan explained, shaking his head, almost as if he was trying to ignore what was probably a phobia. "Do you really wish for me to leave you alone with one perched so near?" Steam asked, now teasing her. Eibhlín rolled her eyes back at him, folding her arms.
"It is just a crow, Mister Salvatore." Eibhlín quipped back. "No; once dey start bringin' people with dem, den I shall be worried." Eibhlín retorted with a nod of her head. That would be a trick. Eibhlín had heard of certain people training exotic birds as pets. Especially with the superstition of crows being a sign of death, Eibhlín could see how someone could easily mess with people who believe in such superstitions. Stefan raised an eyebrow at her with a small smile. Eibhlín could see that Stefan was still tense.
"Eibhlín?" Eibhlín now tensed up herself, turning around to see her mother giving her a very disapproving look. Eibhlín sucked in a breath, seeing her mother fold her arms and simply nod for Eibhlín to come over to her. Eibhlín turned back to Stefan.
"Now, Mister Salvatore, we shall worry about crows bringing both death and people." Eibhlín muttered, glancing back towards her mother. "I must go now, or else a crow is de least of me worries." Eibhlín said, glancing once more at her mother, seeing her mother's foot practically tapping under her black mourning dress impatiently. "It was a pleasure ta meet ya, Mister Salvatore." Eibhlín smiled back at Stefan, giving him a much less proper curtsy back to him. If Eibhlín was already in trouble for something, she may as well top off her beratement with an improper curtsy. Stefan's smile grew as he watched her.
"The pleasure is all mine, Miss NicBranagáin." Stefan smiled, bowing back to Eibhlín. Eibhlín's breath caught slightly as he looked up at her through his long eyelashes. Eibhlín gave a small smile back to him before she quickly turned and began walking towards her mother, turning one last time and giving a small wave before her attention turned back to her mother.
"Dia duit mháthair." Eibhlín greeted with a smile. Eibhlín's mother scowled back at Eibhlín's attempt to sweet-talk her before grabbing onto Eibhlín's arm, pulling her farther away from Stefan. Eibhlín flinched as she felt her mother's nail dig into her arm through her lace sleeves.
"Ná déan iarracht labhairt liom go binn le do Ghaeilge lag, a chailín bhig." Eibhlín heard her mother snarl back in Irish. Eibhlín winced, hearing her mother's tone sounding so harsh. What could Eibhlín have possibly done to have her mother in such a sour mood? Marianna must have told her about her jokes and improper behavior. "Do ya know what yer father would dink of dis?" Her mother growled, having pulled Eibhlín behind a tree, out of the sight of nosey onlookers. Eibhlín raised an eyebrow back at her mother.
"Dink about what?" Eibhlín demanded before her mother slapped her across the face. Eibhlín froze, letting the sting subside before standing back up straight. "I was talkin' ta a man, what is de harm in dat?!" Eibhlín snapped, ignoring the anxious fluttering in her heart as the rage that flashed in her mother's eyes at the disrespectful retort. Eibhlín flinched roughly away from her mother as her mother's hand raised up again to hit her. Eibhlín blinked back at her mother after a moment, not feeling the familiar hand against her cheek.
"Because I care about ya, I will tell ya dis…" Eibhlín's mother said softly, her hand slowly lowering as she looked around the two, much like Marianna had done early before taking a step closer to Eibhlín. Eibhlín couldn't help the flinch at the action, shutting her eyes for a moment and tensing up when her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. "Do not speak ta dat…man again." Her mother continued, whispering into Eibhlín's ear. Eibhlín's brows furrowed as her mother took a step back from her. Eibhlín cocked her head in confusion. Her mother sighed sharply, looking behind them before looking back at Eibhlín. "He is dangerous." Eibhlín's mother insisted. Eibhlín stared back at her mother, still confused by her words.
"Dangerous?" Eibhlín asked with a snort. "I barely spoke with de man, but he does not seem 'dangerous'." Eibhlín muttered, rolling her eyes and folding her arms. Eibhlín's mother scowled back at her in response. "Ma, any man ya try and make me suitor is dangerous, and yet you continue to force me ta speak with dem. In a much more private scenario, might I add!" Eibhlín barked angrily, taking a step back from her mother, subconsciously putting space between the two to keep from being slapped as hard as she had been just a minute earlier. "We look suspicious, mother, have ya not heard from Marianna dat she and a few other families have been talkin' about our family as if we are de ones fer all de strange deaths dat have happened?" Eibhlín let out a sharp laugh. "I know she dinks very highly of ya, so I would assume ya would like ta know she has been speakin' about us poorly." Eibhlín continued, watching her mother's anger fade from her whole face, sitting only in her dark jade eyes. Eibhlín began to feel more and more nervous about what was to happen once her father heard of how she was speaking to her mother with her mother remaining silent…and yet Eibhlín continued her tangent. "We merely just moved here ta get away from Da's past, and now it's followed us already." Eibhlín fumed, ignoring how her heartbeat inside her chest roughly. Eibhlín finally shook her head, starting to walk around her mother before stopping in her tracks when her mother's hands dug into her arm once more to stop her.
"You will listen do mháthair, a chailín bhig," Her mother growled, switching between English to Irish as she spoke. Eibhlín wanted to rip her arm away but froze at the intensity of her mother's eyes. "Stefan Salvatore is a dangerous man." Her mother emphasized 'dangerous' again, but this time, her voice almost shook as she said Stefan's name. Eibhlín's brows furrowed. "And so is his deartháir." She continued to hiss in a low voice, tightening her grip on Eibhlín's arm. Eibhlín bit her tongue to keep herself from making any noise from the pain she felt with her mother's nails digging deeper into her arm. "Stay away from dose Salvatore brothers at all costs." Her mother warned in a stern and quiet voice, still sounding almost fearful of the last name. "And if ya do not heed me warnings, ya will regret it fer de rest of yer life." She finished ominously. Eibhlín didn't have time to even process her mother's words before her mother shoved her backward. Eibhlín tripped on the too-long dress of her mother's old mourning gown, hitting the ground roughly. Eibhlín looked up to see her mother beginning to turn and brush off her dress, as if to rid herself of her daughter's attitude. "And if I ever see ya curtsy so improperly again, yer father will not be de worst ding dat happens ta ya, I promise." Her mother finally muttered low enough Eibhlín had to strain her ears to hear her before watching her mother sauntering away, as if any of the conversation hadn't happened. Eibhlín sat up, frozen for a moment, trying to process all that her mother had said. Eibhlín pulled up her sleeve where her mother had held onto her, hissing when the wind hit the wound, seeing four pricks of blood and a bruise already beginning to form.
"Are you alright?" Eibhlín flinched, pulling her sleeve down instinctively to hide the wound her mother had caused and rolling so she was on her knees instead of her butt to see who was talking to her. Eibhlín looked up at the man who was looking down at her inquisitively, only a few steps away from her. Eibhlín nodded quickly, already trying to stand up. Her heels caught on her hand-me-down dress, forcing her to stumble and fall back onto her hands against the rough ground. "Here, let me help you." The man said, a slight chuckle in his voice as he knelt down to help her up. Eibhlín puffed a breath out, moving some hair that had fallen into her face from the air and seeing the man better. His face didn't match how deep his voice was. Sharp cheekbones, a pale complexion that seemed to make his already light blue eyes shine behind curly black hair. Eibhlín reluctantly grabbed hold of his outstretched hand and helped herself up with the stranger's help.
"Dank ya." Eibhlín muttered, trying to untangle her heel from the hem of her dress, stumbling as she did so.
"Here." Eibhlín flinched when the man caught her arm to keep her from falling. Eibhlín fixed her dress quickly as the man lightened the already gentle grip he had on her arm. "Sorry, I had not realized-" Eibhlín looked back up at the stranger, sending back her own apologetic shake of her head, but still pulling her arm free from his hold.
"No, I-no." Eibhlín stumbled over her words, shaking her head, trying to think of the best response she could give him. Why did she flinch? Why was she on the ground to begin with? Why was she in a dress that was too long for her and too tight around her chest? So many things to explain, and yet so little to explain to a stranger. "I have a cut on me arm is all…" Eibhlín lied, pulling up her sleeve, knowing that was where her mother's fingernails had dug into her and where this man had grabbed close to, showing the man the marks. The man stared at her arm for a moment while Eibhlín sighed, fixing her hair and feeling a loose leaf that had caught in her curly hair. "So ya didn't do anythin' on purpose, so dere's no need ta apologize." Eibhlín shrugged, finally getting the last of the leaf from her hair, looking at it with a scowl before tossing it. Eibhlín watched the man's brow raise with a slight smile on his face. "It's embarrassin' is all." Eibhlín mumbled, brushing the back of her off, feeling more leaves had stuck in the back of the lace dress. Eibhlín huffed aloud. "Dank ya fer helpin' me." Eibhlín thanked the stranger, not focusing on him at all as she continued to busy herself. "Yer not goin' ta kill me now, are ya?" Eibhlín pondered with a playfully raised eyebrow back at him. The man blinked back at her before a smirk slowly spread across his face.
"With so many people around?" The man asked, casually looking behind Eibhlín. Eibhlín looked behind her as well. Eibhlín's mother had pulled them further away from any groups of individuals at the funeral…so there weren't people around. Eibhlín felt her heart flutter anxiously as she turned around; her heart nearly stopped, seeing that the man was now not even a foot from where she stood. Eibhlín took a step back, gasping as her back hit the tree her mother had pulled her behind. "And at a funeral no less…I would not dream of it." The man said in a quiet whisper. Eibhlín's heart raced as she looked quickly away from the man. "Do not move." Eibhlín stared back at the man, looking into his light blue eyes, suddenly unable to move. "Or scream." The man continued sternly, seemingly reading her mind. Eibhlín only nodded. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. But…something was keeping her in her place. "You must thank whoever was stupid enough to hurt you in such a perfect pattern." The man muttered, grabbing onto Eibhlín's arm and pulling her sleeve back up revealing the marks her mother had given her. "I do not even have to risk giving you any of my blood to heal you after…" The man muttered, looking at Eibhlín's arm a moment longer.
"After…what?" Eibhlín questioned, despite her heart beating in her ears out of fear. The man's brows furrowed for only a moment at her questioning before he smirked. Veins began crawling across his face, the whites of his eyes turned bloodshot and his smirk revealed fangs. Eibhlín began to shake, staring at the man and not being able to scream. "What-" Eibhlín began before gasping as the man bit into her arm. Eibhlín bit her tongue, feeling a scream die in her throat from the burning sensation of being bit. Eibhlín felt light-headed as she felt blood leaving her body as if he was drinking from her.
This all seemed impossible. The only thing she could even think of was silly; vampires weren't real…And yet, there she was, at a funeral, with a vampire apparently drinking her blood. Even with the fear, there was a certain curiosity. Anything to keep from thinking about the strange and uncomfortable sensation that was his mouth against her arm. If vampires were real, what else was real? Were ghosts real? Was Eibhlín going to die? Would she become a ghost? She was going to haunt the hell out of her family if that were the case. Eibhlín felt the man chuckle. After what felt like forever, the man stopped drinking from her, pulling away and giving her a curious look as he pulled a handkerchief out of one of his suit pockets. Eibhlín let out a shaky breath, looking at her arm and seeing that his teeth, or fangs, matched pretty closely to where her mother's fingernails had dug in enough to make her bleed.
"Your mind is very distracting." The man noted after he was finished wiping his mouth with the handkerchief before reaching out and gesturing for Eibhlín's arm. Eibhlín hesitated to hand her arm back over to him, but what was she supposed to do? She couldn't move. She couldn't run. The man rolled his eyes at her, opening and closing his palms to indicate that he wanted her to hurry and give him her arm. Eibhlín let out a small scoff before letting him have her arm. The man stared up at her with slight bewilderment. "Something traumatic must have happened for you to simply ignore pain and let your mind wander such as it did." He shook his head, wiping the blood off of Eibhlín's arm. Eibhlín cocked her head, out of habit, to question him before hissing out of pain from the pressure he put on the new wounds. "No; I will not kill you, nor shall you become what I am." The man said matter-of-factly, pulling the handkerchief from her arm. Eibhlín looked at her arm now, seeing that even though it felt she was going to continue to bleed, only a few drops formed. The man let out a frustrated sigh. "Here. Someone gave this to you for the cuts on your arm." The man grumbled, forcing the handkerchief into Eibhlín's hands.
"Ouch." Eibhlín snapped back at the man, sending him a glare before putting the handkerchief against her bleeding arm. The man raised an eyebrow back at her before he let out another chuckle.
"You, my very dim-witted human, will forget meeting me; as well as what I did to your arm." The man muttered playfully, gently taking Eibhlín's chin in his hand to turn her attention up to him. Eibhlín would have glared back at him for the insult but found herself almost compelled to look at him as he spoke. "Shall we never meet again." The man smirked, bowing and taking off his hat before he was gone in an instant.
Eibhlín blinked a few times, looking at the handkerchief in her hand, looking at the marks her mother had given her on her arm and placing the bloody handkerchief onto her arm. Eibhlín looked around. Someone had given it to her…but Eibhlín couldn't seem to remember who…
Eibhlín was bored. The night was far too quiet. The only noises that she could hear were soft crickets chirping, and her brother's snoring that was coming from down the hall. Eibhlín wondered how he slept so soundly. It had been three hours that Eibhlín lay in her bed, motionless and listening to crickets. The Lockwood's weren't hosting any type of party or gathering due to the funeral, so the usual sounds of people laughing, chatting, and even the light sounds of music playing were absent. Nothing to lull Eibhlín to sleep like usual. Even her father was out of the house, so there was no stomping of feet to the kitchen to drink more booze or yelling and smashing of items…Eibhlín didn't mind that silence, but the general silence was killing her.
Eibhlín missed when her family lived in Boston. Sure, Eibhlín was six when they picked up their lives and immigrated to Boston from Ireland, but Eibhlín had a fondness for the city. Their family lived in a small home, but the home was nestled close to others, and nearly everyone that Eibhlín met in their first home were also immigrants from Ireland. There were always families up and about at odd hours, taking up different jobs at different times to keep their families alive and well. Eibhlín got used to hearing families chat and cook at all times of the night. The whole reason they even moved to the small town of Mystic Falls was after months of moving from state to state…to make sure no one remembered what her father did…
Eibhlín pushed the covers off of her and sat up, dangling her legs over her bed before stepping down onto the cold wooden floor. A chill ran up Eibhlín's spine as she crept over to the large window near her bed, slowly opening it and letting in the fresh air from the night seep into her room. Eibhlín stuck her whole upper body out her window, looking up, only to sigh. A large tree branch blocked her view of nearly everything that the night sky had to offer. Only the moon's light was able to crawl its way through the different branches and leaves of the tree. Eibhlín allowed herself to huff out in frustration, running a hand through her messy curls. There had to be something going on in the town… Eibhlín looked down, quickly sucking in a breath, and pulled herself back into her room quickly, peaking over her windowsill. Her father was stumbling out from the front of the house. His broad shoulders swayed as his feet tried to keep his large body upright. Eibhlín watched him stumble to the road before more trees blocked her view of where he went. Eibhlín sighed, shaking her head.
What made him so intimidating? What gave him the right to be the way that he was? An abusive father with a seedy past with large amounts of money that he needed to hide for an inevitably long time. Eibhlín's father had always been a shady character, and even growing up, Eibhlín wasn't supposed to know certain things that happened or what her father did. It became harder and harder to ignore the growing amounts of wealth that her father would acquire once they moved to the south side of Boston, and the amounts of visits from local police, as well as other businessmen dressed in their best suits to their small home. Séamus knew more than Eibhlín, and the most he could tell was that their father was part of some type of organized crime with some Italian men. Eibhlín didn't care what her father did. She only cared about how he treated his family, and the way he treated his family was awful.
Most nights, he could be found drowning his past with anything with alcohol in it. And if the demons still sang him songs, he would come home and take it out on Eibhlín for…for existing. Eibhlín's mother would sometimes get the brunt end of the stick, but her mother knew how to dish out beatings just as well as her father did. Séamus did his best to protect Eibhlín, but it was harder when he had to work. Most nights, Eibhlín prayed that the Lockwood's had enough booze to subdue her father from his violent temper and indulge her mother in high societal talk. Eibhlín hoped that one day her father would drown in his drink and never come home and her mother would talk herself to death. And if not, one day, Eibhlín knew she was as good as dead herself from either. Either her mother's harsh words, or her father's brutal beatings.
Eibhlín found herself walking over to her closet, letting the moonlight that leaked into her room help guide her in the dark. If she was going to die one day at either of her parents' hands…they were not going to control her life. In the quiet of the night, Eibhlín could be herself. No mother. No father. No brother. Just her. Eibhlín found herself looking at her gowns before a pale violet color caught her eye.
The soft color could barely be seen with such little light, but when Eibhlín ran her hand over the material, the soft lace had brought the image of what the dress looked like to her mind instantly. Eibhlín pulled the gown out of the closet, looking at its features of it in the light of her room. The dress had a boned bodice and a crinoline skirt under the dress to give it some fullness. The sleeves were past her elbows, which would help hide the bruising and scars from where her mother had grabbed her earlier, and the dress was just a little past her knees. This was a dress that Eibhlín had begged her mother for and finally got for her 18th birthday…for going on a second date with a man her mother had picked out. It was the first and last time Eibhlín would have a nice dress bought for her.
After a certain age, her mother refused to buy Eibhlín any new clothes, and instead, handed down old clothes that her mother used to wear, or clothes from the families that they used to live by. It was a way for her mother to have control of Eibhlín, as well as humiliate her. Without a husband, Eibhlín would grow old and look old with the fashions her mother had when she was younger. It would be harder for Eibhlín to find a husband for her looks alone…which was strange to Eibhlín, as she thought her mother would want to ship her off as soon as possible. Eibhlín had never worn the purple dress. The suitor that Eibhlín's mother had bought the dress for her to wear on the third date had been arrested not long after their second date for killing a prostitute.
Eibhlín placed the dress on her bed before pulling her nightgown over her head and tossing it to the side of her bed before quickly slipping the purple dress over her head. The back was easy to lace up, which was a reason that Eibhlín liked it when she saw it back in Boston. It was said to be an easy dress to put on alone. Eibhlín had commented that she wouldn't have her mother there to help her lace her dresses up when she was off and married; a clever way Eibhlín got her mother to finally buy her the dress. Eibhlín smoothed the dress out, looking at herself in her vanity. She looked nice, if not a little strange.
Her hair was curly and unruly, and the bottoms of her sleeping undergarments were peaking out of the bottom of the dress, but Eibhlín still smiled, twirling around. Eibhlín hiked up the pants part of her undergarments before going back to her closet and searching for the pair of heels that had a similar colored bow on the ankle and a small design. Those were luckily easy enough to find. Eibhlín went back to her vanity mirror and began brushing her hair. What was she doing? She was acting as if she was going to sneak out…
Which she was. Eibhlín was sneaking out of the house. Eibhlín looked herself over in the mirror and decided her hair was as good as it was going to get without hours of work. Eibhlín kept the heels in her hand as she crept over to her bedroom door, slowly opening it and looking out into the hallway. The house was quiet, save for her brother's snoring. Eibhlín ignored the nagging in her head as she finally left her room, shutting her door softly behind her. Her father would kill her if he found out that she was sneaking out at such odd hours of the night. Eibhlín froze as she felt a breeze.
An opened window down the hall. The night's breeze swept through the hallway and over Eibhlín's skin. Despite the nagging, the slight shiver that ran up Eibhlín's spine made her even braver. That breeze was a simple taste of freedom. Eibhlín breathed in deeply before she quickly scurried down the hallway to the stairs of the house. Eibhlín paused, looking back towards her bedroom before looking at the opened window down the hall. Eibhlín shook the anxiety out of her body as she began walking down the stairs.
Maybe it was in her mind, and maybe it was actually footsteps, but a sound behind Eibhlín made her heartbeat back to life and back into an anxiety-riddled flutter. Eibhlín didn't have time to think straight; instead, she hopped up onto the railings of the stairs and slid down them, stumbling slightly at the bottom. Her feet padded roughly against the hardwood floors as she ran to the front door, nearly bursting through it and slamming it behind her as she ran from her home. Her heartbeat in her ears as she glanced back at her home as it began getting smaller as she ran towards the trees and out of sight. Eibhlín would not be caught. Eibhlín kept running into the trees, ignoring the pain that pricked her feet as she ran barefoot through the woods.
Soon, bits of light began to break through the trees. Eibhlín stopped running and let herself breathe. The light wasn't towards town, Eibhlín knew that unless she had drastically gotten lost in the woods. Eibhlín leaned against a tree, brushing the dirt and muck off one barefoot at a time before slipping the heels onto her sore feet. Eibhlín sighed out in relief as she stood up and began walking towards the light. Light meant noise in most instances, and Eibhlín wanted noise. The quiet of the woods and the pounding in her heart weren't doing wonders for her wandering mind.
As Eibhlín walked out of the tree line, the sounds of some type of gathering filled the air and a large tent in the center of a clearing made Eibhlín's heart soar. Eibhlín recognized the clearing as a spot near town. Not much happened at the clearing, just because it wasn't in town and was a little bit of a walk to get there. People were chatting outside the tent; cigars hung from many of their mouths as they spoke and laughed and drank. Eibhlín did her best to ignore the smells of smoke as she walked past quickly through the tent's opening. Eibhlín looked around the tent with amazement.
In the middle, even with so many people huddled around, Eibhlín could see what looked like a boxing ring. A moment later, a bell rang through the air, and the hollering of men filled the air before a sound of a punch landing on someone was heard. Eibhlín flinched from the noise, her breath catching in her throat before loud cheering's pulled her from her own sour memories. Eibhlín walked closer to the ring, noticing the top of red, curly hair. Eibhlín finally pushed her way through the crowd to see a man and a woman in the middle of the ring. Eibhlín watched as the woman with red, curly hair bounced around the ring carelessly as the man she was facing tried to throw a punch, but each missed. Eibhlín couldn't help the smile that grew across her face as she watched the woman change from bouncing to a hard stance and punching the man square in the face. The man, to Eibhlín's surprise, fell backward and didn't get up. The sound of a bell rang once more and the woman raised her hand, indicating that she had won.
Eibhlín watched the crowd cheer before looking back at the woman as two other men dragged the fallen man out of the ring. The woman had little clothes on, which wasn't surprising to Eibhlín, as she had seen men box without shirts on, but it was curious to see a woman boxing men. Eibhlín caught the woman's gaze as she walked around the ring. The woman smiled and winked back at Eibhlín. Eibhlín felt her cheeks grow hot. Eibhlín must have looked like a child to such a strong woman.
"Come then! You've all heard my bet!" The woman from the ring announced loudly. "Do you wish to go home and say you didn't want to fight a girl?!" She continued to taunt the men in the audience. Eibhlín let herself smile once more, watching as some of the men laughed and others took offense to the woman's words. Eibhlín saw one man jump up on the opposite side of the ring from the woman and got into the ring. The woman smiled back at him, waiting patiently as he took off his shirt. Eibhlín found that her own feet had planted where she stood, simply watching the woman in complete awe.
The bell rang once more, and the woman's playful attitude switched quickly to serious as the man came running at her. The running didn't help. If anything, it made the punch that landed against the man's head much worse. Eibhlín could hear people talking around her, as well as the loud hooping, and hollering as the two continued to box one another in the ring. Eibhlín looked around. It was supposed to be strange that a woman was beating men, but many of the people in attendance were watching as if it was normal. Eibhlín wondered absentmindedly how the woman in the boxing ring was so strong.
Eibhlín watched the woman beat two more men in a row. Eibhlín wanted to learn how a woman could protect herself from the punches of a man. Eibhlín wanted to learn how to protect herself more than anything…although, the thought of humiliating anyone who tried to hurt her would be a nice bonus… Eibhlín watched as a man tried to block the woman's punches, but saw the woman move quickly, throwing her own punches and having yet another man fall on his back in defeat. Eibhlín let herself cheer along with the crowd as the red-haired woman in the ring swayed back and forth, drinking in their energy.
Translations:
Deirfiúr leanbh - baby sister
Deartháir - Brother
Dia duit mháthair - Hello mother
Ná déan iarracht labhairt liom go binn le do Ghaeilge lag, a chailín bhig - Don't try and sweet talk me, little girl
do mháthair, a chailín bhig - your mother, little girl
AN 2022: Finally came back around to editing! And I don't think I did too bad! There was a lot of cringe to get through, and bless those who even stuck around for the original writing. Anyway! I'm still editing as of (3/21/22), but this chapter is done! And I'm pretty proud of my editing! Not too shabby going from about 3k words to 9k! Anyway! I hope you enjoy this newly updated chapter!