The village was bigger than Sienna remembered – she hadn't been there since she was a kid. It was quiet and still, everyone tucked away safely in their beds. The Mikaelson siblings fanned out for their next meal, leaving Sienna and Elijah alone in the street.
In all respects, it looked to be a tranquil night. Dimly lit streets mapped to small, cozy houses with thatched roofs and thin wooden doors. And yet, Sienna felt adrenaline surge through her, the smell of blood dizzying any semblance of rationality within her. Then, a young man, maybe in his early twenties, stepped outside one of the houses and started walking innocently in their direction.
Sienna launched herself at him before she realized what she was doing, but Elijah was quicker and managed to grab her and pull her behind a parked carriage. In a savage frenzy, she struggled against him, bubbling growls and hisses escaping her black-eyed, fanged expression.
Elijah, a vampire 300 years her senior, was significantly stronger than her – or at least, he should've been. To his surprise, her strength was far greater than he had anticipated, and it took a great deal of his strength to keep her contained. In his limited experience with new vampires, it should've been like wrestling a cat – difficult, but manageable. And yet, holding Sienna back was more akin to wrestling a lion.
When she threw her head back, it collided with his nose, echoing a resounding 'crack' through the mostly empty streets. He zipped them away from the village in response – only a few miles away – to momentarily escape the overwhelming scent of blood.
Almost immediately, Sienna snapped out of her hysteria, replaced by wide eyes filled with guilt and worry. "What – oh my god. Elijah, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I – "
"It's quite alright," he reassured her, wiping the blood away from under his already-healed nose. He made a mental note to investigate her later – her strength was unnatural, and it made him wonder if her human strength had been, too.
She looked to her feet, ashamed. "That was…" she began, trying to put that manic sensation into words, but she was at a loss. How can something that intense possibly be described? That was…
Like having an unstoppable inferno and a hurricane fighting for dominance in her veins. As if an avalanche of insatiable need cascaded over all her senses, burying any façade of control under the weight of an overpowering hunger. In retrospect, it felt like an out-of-body experience, like her body was moving without her permission.
She could still smell the townsfolk a few miles away, and despite her shame and guilt, she felt her heart quicken and nerves buzz at the thought of sinking her teeth into them.
"How do you…?" she finally asked, clenching her fists. She never imagined the blood lust would feel like this. Maybe she made the wrong choice…
"It will get easier with time," he replied empathetically, "…and when you're not so hungry."
She shook her head, already feeling defeated. "I don't want to hurt anyone," she whimpered, tugging at the tattered sleeves of her still-dirty dress. Elijah's expression softened. He rested his hand on her back reassuringly, understanding her struggle. The most difficult part of becoming a vampire for him, too, was accepting that he was a predator – that his survival depended on the sacrifice of others. That he had to hurt people. If not for himself, then for those he loved and needed his protection. "I don't think I can – "
"I'll help you," Elijah cut her off, his tone gentle but firm. "You can do it, Sienna. If not for yourself, then for Rory."
Sienna let his words wash over her, nodding slowly. He's right.
Sienna closed her eyes and let the feelings of love she had for Rory flood her heart. His chubby cheeks, the sound of his laugh, the feeling of his little body in hers when she hugs him. Every maternal instinct she'd developed over the last ten years fueled her conscious effort to summon her self-control. For him, she needed to figure this out.
Together, side by side, they began a slow walk back to the village. As they walked closer to the edge of town, Sienna felt her body betray her, pulsing adrenaline and hunger through her. In an effort to maintain her control, she reached out and took Elijah's hand, gripping it tightly. He squeezed her hand twice in response, a subtle message – I'll help you – and their steps continued.
As they walked deeper into the population, they came across a young boy, maybe 12 or 13, with dark brown hair the same color as Rory's. He greeted them with a smile and a pleasantry, and Elijah returned the gesture politely. Sienna said nothing, squeezing Elijah's hand in her own, her grip tight enough to crush stones. Her heart pounded and her ears rang, everything inside her fighting the urge to eat him.
It was as if they stepped in cadence with the loud, slow, echo of the boy's heart. Thump-thump… thump-thump… thump-thump… The loudest drum she'd ever heard, a cadence so slow that it seemed to stretch time itself, turning these few passing seconds into lingering, slow-motion minutes. Everything else blurred around her – all she could see was him.
And then… it was over. They passed each other and simply continued walking. The boy's scent, so loud in her nostrils just seconds ago, was fading along with the intensity of her desire the further they walked from each other.
"Well done," Elijah complemented quietly. He saw her distress, and he certainly felt it in her vice-grip, but she maintained her control well. Her eyes didn't even flare.
Sienna took a breath, only then realizing that she'd been holding it. She focused on the feeling of Elijah's hand, her anchor. His hand was notably larger than hers, and it cradled her slender fingers with the same unwavering, gentle firmness that echoed his every action since they'd met. The texture of his skin, soft and warm, offered a counterbalance to the turbulent feelings raging through her, and even evoked feelings of peace.
For Elijah, the feeling was quite different. Her hand, so petite and slender in his own, was a stark contrast to the monstrous strength she'd just used to crush the bones in his hand as they passed that young boy. Despite his composure, it was incredibly painful – even now, as the bones mended under his skin.
When she'd first grabbed his hand, his heart skipped a beat and his mind immediately flashed to the intimate moment he had held her hand while he drank her blood. His lips on her warm skin, amber eyes boring into his – certainty, curiosity, and trust shining through long, crimson lashes.
But as her squeeze on his hand tightened and did not relent, as the bones in his hand slowly broke under the stress of her internal struggle, he began to battle for his own composure. If she needed an anchor, he would serve as one. He clenched his jaw through the pain, "Good evenin' to ya!" the young boy had said as he passed. Sienna did not react, but her grip had tightened enough to suddenly crack several of his metacarpals.
Elijah gritted through it, somehow managing a polite response – she was, after all, maintaining her composure. A huge improvement from her previous encounter. He wasn't expecting her to get it on the second try, and had even considered using compulsion to help her get through this without killing someone. Strongly considered it when he realized how difficult she was to wrangle.
But then the boy had passed, and her grip loosed slightly. Just slightly.
His hand pulsated in pain. Her throat burned for blood. They listened inside the houses, hearing everything from soft snores, quiet conversations, and babies crying to their mother's songs. It was an oddly calming lullaby – something pure and peaceful and human – for them both, a distraction to their silent battle.
Then, the sound of footsteps ever so nearby. An older man exited an inn, a stumble in his step as he wobbled down the street in the same direction as them. "Him," Elijah decided. Sienna felt her body spark in excitement, humming in anticipation of her incoming meal, but still, she remained calm, squeezing Elijah's hand in an anchor of her control.
They followed the unsteady man only a single block before he turned between a couple of houses. Elijah led her forward quickly, then tapped the map on the shoulder. Sienna observed him quietly, consciously biting her lip to keep her mouth shut. She squeezed his hand again, unwilling to allow any other muscle in her body to move.
"Don't move, and remain calm. You are not afraid. You want to help us," Elijah told him, their eyes locked in an intensity that Sienna didn't yet understand.
"I want to help you," the man repeated, his voice far away, as if he were in a trance.
While the neck gave better blood flow, he wasn't sure she had enough control to not kill him that way. "Drink slowly, and listen to the pulse of his heart while you drink," Elijah told her. "You must stop before the beat slows – that's how you'll know you've taken too much." He grabbed the man's wrist and held it out to Sienna.
Sienna paused before letting go of Elijah's hand to take the man. His arm felt hot to the touch, so hot. She spared him a guilty glance, fighting to maintain her body as her heart ached for what she was about to do to someone against their will. He was shorter than Elijah, round and wrinkled, with a long peppered beard. His eyes were tired, his clothes poorly patched. But he didn't look sad.
Green eyes surrounded by laugh lines, and age spots on his mostly bald head give clues to a life soaking up the sun. His nose was big and crooked, and several of his teeth were missing. Then, he smiled at her. "Go on, dear. I want to help," he told her.
She smiled, feeling more resolute. No – she would not kill him. "May I ask your name, sir?"
He smiled again, "Rufus Woods, at your service, m'lady. I'm the innkeeper 'round here," he said. "You're not from 'round here, are ya? I don't recognize ya. I can help with that. I want to help."
Sienna nodded, her expression soft and appreciative. "Thank you, Rufus Woods," she said, then gently sank her fangs into the purple veins of his wrist. Flooded with euphoria, she chanted Elijah's advice in her mind, picturing Rufus' smiling eyes. Drink slow, she repeated in her mind, a cadence of his instruction. Listen to his pulse. Drink slow, listen to his pulse. Drink slow…
The moment his blood poured into her mouth, she instantly felt a warm sensation of relief. Her body relaxed, tense muscles now lost in ecstasy. Not only did her body feel better, but she found clarity in her mind, too. The fog clearing, she pulled away before the beat in his heart changed.
She could feel the warmth of his blood on her lips and wondered how messy she'd been. Embarrassed, she quickly wiped any excess on her sleeve. Thankfully, there was very little. She looked back to Rufus, who looked confused but accepting.
"Well done," Elijah marveled, honestly surprised she did so well. She's a quick learner.
Sienna watched Elijah look deep within Rufus' eyes again, then commanded him: "Thank you, sir. You may leave now without any memory of this happening."
The old man nodded, hypnotized, and left quietly.
"Did you just… control his mind?" Sienna asked, watching him walk calmly along as if nothing had happened. As if a vampire hadn't just drunk his blood under the cover of night.
"Yes," he replied simply, gesturing for her to follow him back down the mostly empty streets. While Sienna could still smell and hear all the souls around her, she felt her self-control reign strong again. Her body no longer suffering from the symptoms of vampiric starvation – she wanted more, but she didn't need it.
"Will you teach me how to do that?" Sienna asked, considering the possibilities and moral implications of that skill. Then it hit her, "Can vampires compel other vampires? Could you control me?"
The corners of Elijah's lips curled into a small, barely noticeable smile. "All in good time," he promised. "For now – it's time to find your mother."
Her throat clenched and guilt washed over her. She'd nearly forgotten in all the excitement of her feed.
"So how'd it go?" a woman's voice called from behind them. Elijah and Sienna turned to find Rebekah and Klaus sauntering forward, leading a rustic horse-drawn carriage with them.