PRESENT DAY
The aching emptiness returned within the walls of that rebel base. In proximity to the castle's ruins, grief spread from her fingertips to her heart in an attempt to seize all control. Alaric returned her to the base's clinic to sleep for the night, promising a nicer room once she'd recovered. The quality of the room didn't matter to the consuming pain of memory. Her stitched-up shoulder and sore head paled in comparison to the damage done to her soul.
Each death changed her, altered her permanently in a way she could see so clearly now, looking backward. But to identify the pain was to feel it, too. And once the gates were open, shutting them felt a grand effort. How had she managed to lock out such pain for so many years and why did it have to return now, as she lay on a thin mattress underground with the first lead she'd found in years? Shouldn't that have been cause for celebration? Why instead did she feel as if she'd been plunged underwater? Grasping her throat, gasping for air that wouldn't come.
It made her weak, to feel, to have loved. But there was strength in being alone. Nothing more could be taken from her, used against her. Damon had nothing with which to manipulate her any longer. But even in that relief, there was pain. Which was worse? To have love and fear the loss of it, or to have nothing but grief? An impossible comparison. All she could think in response was how much she missed her mother. How much she longed to be small and wrapped in her arms. To have every problem easily solved by crawling into her bed at night. To have no problems so big she could not fix them.
Only big problems remained, now. How to keep herself fed and alive. How to keep herself out of danger. How to introduce herself to Alaric's people. How to be the Princess they needed. How to force Damon to speak with her. How to end his reign. How to kill him. How to avenge her family. How to sleep at night.
She lay awake for hours, thinking and staring at the carved-out ceiling reinforced with wooden beams. How long had it taken to create a place such as this, let alone without capturing the attention of Salvatore himself? A feat, in itself, even if they didn't manage to overtake Zicon and reclaim Miria. It begged the question, even if they were to retake Miria—who would rule? Certainly not she, as Alaric had only learned of her existence hours ago. Would it be Alaric himself? A commoner with no noble blood? Would the people even follow him?
At least with her mind off the past, finally able to push the visions of her past life out of her mind, she fell asleep. Hours later, she woke, briefly forgetting where she was. The room was still pitch black, but with no windows, it could have been as late as noon.
Another place that wasn't home. Maybe nowhere would be ever again. But here, especially, she felt out of place. Lying in the dark, helpless and injured. All she could do was wait until someone arrived to check on her. An hour or so passed before Bonnie appeared to light the lantern and redress her wound.
"It's healing nicely," she commented while applying another layer of the salve she'd created. "You should be good as new soon enough."
"And then what?" Elena asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed as soon as Bonnie was finished. Bonnie looked at her with a raised brow. "Am I free to go?"
Of course, working with the rebellion would be a good idea, but she had plans of her own, plans that involved working alone. Her agenda did not involve putting anyone at risk except herself.
Bonnie seemed confused by the line of questioning. "You're not a prisoner, Elena."
"No, of course," she said with a nod.
Sighing, Bonnie took a seat next to the princess. She placed a hand atop Elena's. "I don't know what it is you've been doing for the past decade. What you've been through. I can't imagine."
Eventually, maybe it would be easier to talk about. Not now.
Bonnie continued. "The people here believed in your father, and that means they believe in you too. Right? I just mean—you don't have to leave immediately, is all. Besides, I think there's someone here you'll want to see. Come to breakfast with me?"
Elena nodded. She could do breakfast. After all, if Alaric hadn't recognized her, no one else would either.
The dining hall was a thing of beauty. Not in conventional terms, of course. It didn't compare to the castle in the slightest. But as far as underground cafeterias went, it was marvelous. A huge carved-out cavern that must have been used for similar meal breaks back when the mine functioned. Now, however, there were long tables that sat at least ten people each lined up next to each other beside an open kitchen where a few worked to feed the rest.
Bonnie led her toward a line of other rebels waiting for food. There weren't many, maybe fifteen in total waiting, eating, or cooking.
"Alaric said not everyone lives down here," Elena commented, uncertain of exactly the response she was looking for. Starting a conversation with Bonnie was difficult, but difficult was preferable to the heavy silence between them.
"There are only a handful of us. Those who lost their homes and couldn't find new ones to return to. Or people like me, who have important roles and need to be here all the time just in case something happens," Bonnie explained.
"Does something happen a lot?"
Bonnie shrugged her shoulders. "The Salvatore army is ruthless, so I usually have people to treat, especially if there's been some kind of mission or someone's risked going topside for supplies."
It was all very strange to the fallen princess. A group of people who didn't leave the confines of the abandoned mine, yet hoped to overthrow the evil king. How did they even plan to do it? What was their strategy? Did Alaric hold some sort of war council, and would she be allowed to sit in on it? There were still so many questions left unanswered.
"They keep an eye on this area, then?" Elena asked. At first, she thought the attack on her had been targeted, Salvatore's men following her specifically. But now that didn't seem like the case.
"Believe so. They know we're around but they're not exactly sure how to access us. Anyone loitering within a few miles of the castle ruins is automatically suspicious, though."
They arrived at the front of the line, killing the conversation as workers scooped food out onto their plates. It look palatable, better than what she'd been eating in recent weeks—almost nothing. Scraps and things she could easily hunt and roast. Her stomach growled.
The pair walked together toward a table on the far side of the room, sitting across from a blonde woman with a bandanna wrapped around her hair like a headband, only a few wisps dangling in front of her eyes.
"Caroline?" Elena asked, a smile stretching across her lips immediately while her stomach rumbled forgotten in the background. To think that both of her best friends had survived the bombing and were here. All those years she'd thought them lost. They'd probably assumed the same of her.
Caroline's welcome was much more enthusiastic than Bonnie's. "Oh my goodness," she said, dropping her fork onto the plate before her, almost finished. "Bonnie said you were here, but I really couldn't believe it. But there you are, here you are!"
Strange, the three of them together once more a decade later. All changed in so many ways, least of which physical. Taller, defined features, a place in the world. At least for two of them. Elena still struggled to find hers.
"Here I am," Elena said, a bit of her nerves slipping out. After so much time spent far away and alone, being with them again only reminded her of all that had been lost. Memories of the three back in her quarters at the castle flooded her mind, but things were so very different now.
Caroline's gaze was kind, compassionate, her smile never wavering. "I thought you were—"
Elena cut her off. "I know. Everyone did. I'm sorry." She glanced down at her food, but the rampant hunger had disappeared, replaced with bittersweet sorrow. "I didn't think anyone was here, either. I assumed the worst and—well, it's more complicated than that but—I should have come home sooner."
How could she express how much she'd missed them, explain everything she'd been through without talking for hours on end? Surely they didn't need to know every little detail about the last ten years of her life. But they both looked on with rapt attention. "After my parents died, it was just Jeremy and I for the longest time and he thought our best bet was to stay hidden."
"Makes sense," Bonnie chimed in. "Old Miria isn't exactly the safest place to be."
"Well, turns out hiding wasn't either. Damon—I mean, the King," she said, quickly covering her mistake as if to showcase a distance in familiarity between the two. Sometimes it was difficult, however, not to refer to her old friend as such. It had been such a long time since she'd seen him last. She should have been able to separate herself more easily. "He found us. I'm not sure how. But Jeremy was killed, and I decided I needed to do something."
If only, if only, if only. Her mind never let her have a moment of peace, never let her remember the past without remembering her part in everything, without remembering everything she could have done differently. But they didn't need to know about all the pain she held deep in her chest. They could probably, at least, sense some of it. They didn't need a full tour of her trauma. Not now when optimism could help them all much more. Optimistic. How difficult it was to be so, even when it was needed most.
"You don't have to explain yourself to us," Caroline said, offering immediate comfort. "We're just happy you're alive, and here."
Caroline's happiness balanced Bonnie's bitterness. "She doesn't plan on staying," Bonnie stated, taking particular interest in the potatoes on her plate.
"What do you mean?" Caroline asked. "Where are you going to go?"
Elena sighed. "I came back for a reason, and like I said I didn't expect that anyone would be here." Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I want to go to the ruins and look for information, but ultimately I came back to kill him. For everything he's done to me. To my family."
"And you think you can do that alone?" Bonnie asked.
"Yes. No. I don't know." Everything seemed so much more confusing than it had been just a few days ago when she'd ridden into town with a clear head and a plan. Find a way to meet with him. Question him about all he'd done. Retake the kingdom. Somehow.
"You need us, Elena," Caroline said, looking at her old friend with a soft expression. "You want to take him out, so do we. But he has an entire army standing by his side. You're just one person. He'll kill you."
Another sigh from the princess. Hearing her innermost thoughts spoken aloud hurt more than she knew what to do with. "I know." But maybe that would be a death worth dying. If she could take him down with her.
"You were nearly taken out by a single arrow before you found us," Bonnie commented. "What makes you think you can challenge the King all by yourself?"
Now she was aggravated. Fists clenched on the table next to the food left untouched. "Because I have to," she spat out through gritted teeth.
Caroline reached a hand across the table and took hold of one of those clenched fists. "Let us help you. Alaric knows what he's doing and we have soldiers too. No army, not yet. But even that is better than going at it alone. Don't you think?"
She knew Caroline was right. That was the hardest part about it. How right her friend was. The entire time, she'd known. Known that everything she wanted to do was just out of reach, was impossible for a lone girl with just a longbow and a few daggers to accomplish on her own. Despite how little she wished to align herself with anyone, she knew it would be a death sentence without them. Hell, it would probably be a death sentence with them, too. And her heart ached at the idea of bringing anyone but Damon Salvatore down with her.
"You're right," Elena said, deflating.
The three finished their food in silence. Elena scarfed down potatoes, beans, and eggs like she hadn't eaten in weeks, then sought out to find Alaric, departing from Caroline and Bonnie with a hug and a promise not to do anything stupid.
Caroline and Bonnie pointed her in the direction of Alaric's chambers before they went their separate ways. Elena followed their instructions, ending up at the end of a claustrophobic tunnel, equally as damp and musty as all the rest. A simple wooden door separated the hallway from his rooms. She knocked, praying that he was in and not on the surface somewhere out of reach. She'd already been idle for two days more than she'd planned. Now, she needed to set her plans in motion.
It took a few moments—in which Elena doubted everything and nearly left to return to the surface by herself—before he came to the door.
"Ah, Miss Gilbert," he said, looking her over. "What do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
"I think you're right," she said, no time for niceties. "I think your rebellion needs a Princess."
"Glad to hear you've come around on the subject," he said, delighted by her decision and not at all affected by the abruptness of her decision and her words.
"But," she started. "If I'm going to do this, you're going to do a few things for me, too."
"Spoken like a real royal."
"I am, after all," she said, a tinge of annoyance to her voice. "I need to go to the castle ruins. I'd like an escort and a few guards if you can manage it."
"Is that all?" he asked, a brow raised.
What more should she ask for now, before time to barter passed her by? "No," she said. "More than that. I want to be involved in whatever you have going on. Strategy. Planning. Missions. All of it. If you're going to use me to inspire your forces, I deserve to be a part of the ranks myself."
Alaric nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. With what? Pride? "Of course," he said, extending a hand. She took it, shaking firmly. "When were you hoping to leave for the castle?"
"As soon as possible."