The Forgotten

by MissNMikaelson

Summary:

A mysterious grimoire, a locked mausoleum and a drop of blood: what could go wrong? Bonnie, Caroline and Elena take a road trip to New Orleans on the off chance that a weapon exists to stop Klaus.

Basically Elena gets accidentally sent to 1914 and lands in the middle of a supernatural war.

Notes:

I do not own TVD or TO

Chapter 1

‘What’ and ‘if’ were two words as non-threatening as words could be, but together, side by side, they possessed the power to haunt a person for the rest of their life.

She was sprawled on the cobblestones with a trickle of blood running over her cheek and too many ‘what ifs’ flying through her mind to count.

What if Stefan hadn’t left town with Klaus? Would they still be together? Would she be safe in her bed?

What if she hadn’t blown off family game night? Would her parents still be alive? Would she be involved in the supernatural? Would she be safe in her bed?

What if Katherine had never come to town?

What if Caroline hadn’t suggested a girl’s trip?

What if Bonnie hadn’t gotten that grimoire in the mail?

Would she be safe in her bed?

The questions poured through her head, and didn’t stop coming. She knew that they wouldn’t until she opened her eyes and focused on the present.

She couldn’t live in the past.

Her eyelids protested the order but eventually fluttered open. Rolling onto her side she sat up and prepared to tell them she was alright, but the words died on her tongue.

Her friends – who she knew would never abandon her – were nowhere to be found. She was alone in the fog filled cemetery. The moon was the only source of light to cast an eerie glow over the assortment of stone.

She raised a shaking hand to her aching head and stared up at the shadowed letters of the nearest mausoleum. Her fingers found a distinct lump beneath her hair and she winced, but blinked away the tears so she could read the name on the tomb.

She watched Bonnie try to open the door again and tilted her head. They had tried pulling. They had tried pushing. They had tried everything but the door would not budge.

“What’s supposed to be in there anyway?” Elena rubbed her upper arms. The temperature had dropped since their arrival in the Crescent city.

“I have no idea,” Bonnie groaned, tossing her hands in the air.

“So on our big road trip to forget about Klaus you detoured us for no apparent reason? I should be compelling us drinks somewhere before we dance the night away,” Caroline inspected her finger nails; the manicure was in need of a touch up. “What exactly did the letter say?”

Bonnie pulled the typed sheet of paper from her pocket and passed it over. They already knew the words; they had puzzled over the letters contents since leaving Virginia.

“The answers you seek are sealed in the Gatreaux tomb. You’ll find the tomb in Lafayette Cemetery,” Elena read. She sighed and refolded the letter, quoting the last of the letter from memory; they were the words that had brought them to New Orleans. “The key to Klaus’ demise.”

“Who sent that?” Caroline eyed the paper as if expecting a signature to suddenly appear.

“I don’t know,” Bonnie shrugged. She dug in the shoulder bag she had dropped earlier to focus on the tomb, and flipped through until she found the grimoire that had come with the letter.

Elena watched as she thumbed through the pages and found something. A sense of dread prickled at the base of her scalp. She had the strangest feeling that whatever was coming next was unavoidable – inevitable.

“I think I’ve got a way in,” Bonnie murmured, dragging her finger over the page, “I just need some… blood.”

“Let me guess,” Caroline rolled her eyes from one best friend to another.

Elena sighed under the pointed look from Caroline and the questioning one from Bonnie. She rolled up her sleeves and pulled off her gloves.

“All I can say is there had better be something good in there.”

She tried looking at her watch but the numbers were too small to make anything out. She knew she had been there for a while though. Bonnie had cast the spell around two o’clock in the afternoon and the sun had long since vanished beneath the horizon.

Elena shifted onto her knees and felt her head swim.

“Ow…” she moaned and fought off a wave of nausea. It burned the back of her throat, threatening to come up in a violent spew.

She was pretty sure she felt the ground shifting, but she was only certain of it when a large hand settled on her shoulder. The heat spread through the layers of winter fabric to warm her freezing body. A second hand tipped up her chin and at first all she could see were the dark eyes nearly black in their intensity.

She realized that he was speaking when he probed her head injury and she looked down to his moving lips. She thought he might have sighed, but then his teeth elongated and his wrist was in her mouth before she could even hiss in pain.

Copper flooded her mouth and she grimaced.

“Why did you do that?” She wiped excess blood from her lips.

“You hit your head, darling,” he pressed a handkerchief into her hand and helped her stand.

“I thought you said I had the wrong Mikaelson if I was in the market for a gentleman.”

Elena dragged her eyes from her rescuer to the woman. She was wearing a long coat over an ankle length skirt and her blonde ringlets were covered with the ugliest hat Elena had ever seen. She was so distracted by the period clothes that it took her a moment to register the fact that she knew the name.

“I was right; if you want a gentleman you should look to Elijah. Now,” he turned his attention to Elena, “now that you’re healthy you can tell me why a doppelganger is in New Orleans.”

Elena swallowed, turning her head to meet his eyes; there was a hint of amusement in the darkened depths. With a jolt she realized he wasn’t expecting her to answer or even know what a doppelganger was. Her mind scrambled for the clues the pair had inadvertently dropped: ‘Mikaelson’, “Elijah’, ‘doppelganger’, their fashion backward attire, and the uncanny resemblance to Elijah.

She was ninety-nine percent sure that everything that was happening entirely in her head. In the experience she had with Elijah and Klaus she knew that the brothers enjoyed a quick intellect so she countered his question with one of her own; it didn’t matter what she said anyway.

“What’s an Original doing skulking through the cemetery?” She cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not gonna call me Katerina are you?”

He opened his mouth to say something but before he could she continued talking because apparently at some point during the road trip she had caught Caroline’s babble bug and it seemed that bug had extended to her hallucination.

“Of course you’re not because this is my dream, and I hate when people mix us up. Although since it happens so often in life it could happen here and that means that my dream isn’t a dream, but a nightmare. What are you doing anyway: midnight sacrifice? Are you gonna kill me? Klaus killed me… Elijah tried to save me. What are you looking at me like that?”

She tilted her head when she saw his wide eyes.

“I’m not crazy,” she tapped the side of her head. “My mind is perfectly in tack, and,” her eyes darted between them, “at least I’m not wearing clothes that went out of style a century ago.” Her eyes narrowed when he lifted her chin and caused goosebumps to rise on her arms. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for further head wounds,” he murmured, running his gloved fingers through her hair. “My blood should have healed you by now.”

“She’s not injured,” the woman said, “she has been displaced. I can feel the magic clinking to her skin from here. A spell has been cast on her and recently.”

“Not on me,” Elena protested. “Bonnie was trying to open the door.”

“When did she do this?” The woman tilted her head. Her hat cast long shadows over her features.

“Earlier this afternoon,” she shrugged.

“I was hoping for the date,” she blinked. “I don’t know what spell your friend Bonnie cast, but she has pushed you backwards in time.”

“I’m in the past?” Elena pressed her lips together. Her knees wobbled and she would have fallen if not for the Original at her side reaching out to hold her up. “The… what year is it?”

“1914,” he steadied her, “what was your friend after?”

“There was something in a tomb that was gonna…” Elena trailed off when she looked at him; he was an Original brother. “She wanted something inside but the door was sealed with magic and my blood boosts every spell.”

“She sought something in my playhouse?” He searched her eyes. “You’ve gotten mixed up in some dark magic, haven’t you? Which dark object were you seeking? What foe do you wish to vanquish?”

“I don’t think vanquishing is possible,” Elena shook her head, “more like putting him in his place.” Her eyes flickered to the woman. “You’re a witch? Can you undo what my friend did?”

“Maybe,” she nodded, “but I’m a little busy at the moment. The city is at war.”

Elena followed her eyes back to the man who was still holding her upright. Was he going to hand her to his brother?

“He doesn’t have the moonstone,” she swallowed, “so there’s no point…”

“You know about the moonstone?” He frowned, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes.

“From the future,” she reminded him. “Klaus already killed me once and I know he doesn’t have what he needs, and he won’t have it for another century.”

“Perhaps we could be of mutual use to each other,” he tiled his head with a tight smirk. “You have knowledge that might help in this war, and I can keep you hidden from my brother, Miss Petrova.”

“Gilbert,” she corrected, “Elena Gilbert. And you are?”

He flashed a charming smile and lifted her hand.

“Kol Mikaelson,” he kissed her knuckles, smirking when she shivered, “at your service, darling.”

“Well,” Elena cleared her throat, “how about getting me home, Kol Mikaelson?”

“That is a problem for Mary Alice, darling,” he nodded to his companion before motioning Elena into the mausoleum. “This is a bad town for such a pretty face, and Klaus has eyes and ears everywhere.”

At first glance the room was dark, bathed in ominous shadows. It was exactly what she expected the interior of a crypt to look like, but then Kol flipped an old fashioned switch and the air rushed from her lungs.

Floor to ceiling shelves were covered in a myriad of objects and books. There were several tables scattered around the room holding more paraphernalia.

She wanted to say something but she wasn’t sure what so she traced a gramophone’s needle with her fingertip as Kol addressed Mary Alice and a second woman she hadn’t seen enter. She was marvelling over the perfect condition of the antiques that weren’t yet antiques when long fingers curled around her elbow. Her arm tingled under the touch.

“Shall we darling?” Kol steered her toward the corner.

Elena almost laughed when she saw the daybed and couldn’t stop the quip she was certain was a bad idea given the year.

“I’ve known you all of ten minutes and you’re already trying to take me to bed,” she clicked her tongue in mock disapproval, but amusement danced in her eyes, “at least buy me dinner first.”

Her voice came out louder than she meant for it to, eliciting scandalized gasps from the chemistry lab atop a nearby table. She couldn’t hear the comments, but Kol could and shot the women a look.

“Don’t mind them, darling,” he smirked, “they lack a proper sense of humour.”

“I think a ‘proper’ sense of humour is why they didn’t laugh,” Elena muttered under her breath. She smiled when Kol chuckled and sat in the empty space beside her. “You mentioned a war?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“The witches of the city have turned on each other,” Mary Alice looked up from her work to address Elena. “If we fail then Klaus wins and out ancestral home will fall to vampires. How are you meant to help us if you don’t know what’s going on?”

“I’m not from New Orleans,” Elena pressed her lips together, “I don’t know the full history of the city, and all I know of Originals is what I learned from Elijah, so I don’t know how I’m meant to help you.”

Her eyes flickered to Kol. How many years did he have before Klaus dropped him at the bottom of the ocean? What if she told him? Would it make a difference? What if she made everything worse?

“Actually, I do know,” she squared her shoulders, “I help you by staying off Klaus’ radar and staying alive.”

“How is that helpful?” A line appeared between Astrid’s eyes.

“Because if he uses me in his ritual he becomes more powerful than he already is,” Elena met their eyes.

“I give you my word that won’t happen,” Kol swore. Fire flashed in his eyes.

Elena shifted to look at him, scrutinizing the vampire forgotten to history. She wondered if anyone remembered him in her time aside from Elijah, but she couldn’t let herself dwell on thoughts of the noble brother; it hurt too much. She could still feel the sting of his betrayal like a knife in her gut, and it didn’t matter that she knew why he had done it or that she had all but forgiven him for the act.

“Can I trust you?”

He looked in her eyes, all traces of amusement long gone, and something in her shifted. He leaned in just an inch and she followed him.

“I may be a beast, Elena Gilbert,” his smooth voice drifted over her spine, making her heart skip a beat and a flush to stain her cheeks, “but I’m a man of my word, and when I make a promise I keep it.”

“I’ve heard those words before,” she smiled sadly.

“From me?” He cocked an eyebrow. “I know that tone, darling. Somebody has broken your trust.”

“It wasn’t you,” Elena tilted her head. “We just met, remember?”

“Which means you have no reason to distrust me,” he smirked.

“It also means I have no reason to trust you,” she arched an eyebrow.

“Come on, darling,” he smirked, “take a leap of faith.”

Mary Alice shifted some objects around and hit a shallow bowl of powder. The substance flew through the air to coat Kol and Elena in a layer of dust.

She sputtered and coughed until her eyes watered before sucking in a greedy breath.

---

 

Caroline stared at the empty space by the stairs, pointing with a shaking finger. She turned and starred at Bonnie. She turned and starred at the stairs. She went back and forth a few times opening and closing her mouth, but the only sound that came out was a high squeak.

Bonnie wasn’t fairing much better. She swallowed, starred at the empty space, dropped her unseeing gaze to the grimoire and looked back up. After a long moment she managed a strangled word.

“G-gone.”

“Spell…” Caroline nodded, blinking. She had started talking early in life, gaining the title of a chatterbox, and hadn’t stopped even when she didn’t know the proper words for things, but for the first time in seventeen years of speaking she couldn’t come up with two syllables to string together.

She mentally scolded herself but the words wouldn’t come.

The sound of a vibrating cell phone snapped her eyes from the vacant air to Elena’s fallen bad. She picked up the purse, extracted the cell phone and read the caller ID. Words instantly flooded her mouth.

“Seriously?” She pressed the phone to her ear and just managed to suppress her shriek. “We are on vacation.”

“I’m only checking in, love.”

Caroline frowned at the sound in his voice; it had dropped to the dangerous level he preferred for threatening his enemies; it was a tone he had never used with her.

“The whole point of this road trip was to get away from you and your check-ins,” she rolled her eyes.

Bonnie snapped out of her daze and focused on the spell book.

“You may be out of town, but that will not stop me from checking in. I trust you’ll be back by Monday.”

“Sunday night,” Caroline tapped her foot, “we’ve got school.”

“And you’ll have found my missing doppelganger in time for AP Chemistry?”

The blood drained from Caroline’s face when she looked at the empty space on the steps. She gritted her teeth, spun in a slow circle to peer around the old lanes of the cemetery.

“Firstly, our first class is AP Biology.” She sucked in a quick breath and then continued in a rush. “Secondly, her name is Elena. Thirdly, she’s not yours, and fourthly she’s not missing, so go ahead and tell whatever hybrid you’ve got following us to back off because we know exactly where she is.”

She hung up the phone with an angry jab of her finger and turned to Bonnie. Her hands landed on her hips as she took a deep breath.

“Where is she?” Caroline forced her voice to remain calm.

“I don’t know,” Bonnie shook her head. “The spell was supposed to reveal what was hidden. It was supposed to open the door ‘to that which has been forgotten’.”

“Why don’t you tell us a little more about this spell?” A slow voice drawled from the shadows.

Caroline and Bonnie spun around quickly. The heavy grimoire would have fallen from Bonnie’s hand if a vampire hadn’t rushed forward to grab it. The second man had creamy brown skin and curly hair; he held the book aloft and spoke faster than his companion.

“Didn’t anyone tell you there’s no magic in this city?” He sneered.

“Give that back,” Bonnie’s eyes narrowed. She needed the book to get Elena back.

“I don’t think you’re grasping the severity of your situation, witch,” he scoffed. “Magic is forbidden; you practice, you die.”

“Diego,” the first man stepped out of the shadows. He adjusted the flat cap on his head and held out his hand. “Let me see that.”

Caroline shifted closer to Bonnie as the man flipped the book over. His long fingers caressed the spine with an air of familiarity. She frowned when he looked straight at Bonnie with bright eyes.

“Bonnie Bennett?” His brows rose hopefully.

“Yeah,” Bonnie frowned, “and who are you?”

“Could we get on with killing the witch now, Thierry?” Diego rolled his eyes.

“Nah, man,” he smirked, “this one’s approved.”

“Marcel knows about it?” Diego crossed his arms. “If it’s approved why’d he send us out here?” He flashed over the cobblestones and pinned Bonnie to the side of the mausoleum by her shoulders.

“That’s a bad idea man,” Thierry warned.

“Let her go!” Caroline rushed Diego, but before she could touch him he swept an arm back and tossed her into the stone wall of a nearby tomb.

---

 

The first rush of air burned her lungs. The second was work.

She pried her eyes open and focused on the layer of dust that blanketed the Chemistry lab. The air was too heavy; she couldn’t get enough oxygen so she stood from the daybed and stumbled to the door.

The sound of a scuffle drew her eyes up and she moved with a renewed energy to spin the locking mechanism. Blinking against the bright afternoon light brought the scene into stark focus and made her blood boil.

She moved in a blur of motion and tore the man from Bonnie. A feral sound rose in her throat as she glared at him.

“Elena?” Caroline whispered.

“I told you it was a bad idea, man,” he chuckled.

Caroline got to her feet slowly and stared at the brunette. She was wearing the same clothes down to the blue ankle boots, but the fabric appeared to be faded. There was a silver locket Caroline had never seen before around her neck, but the thing that made her heart stutter were her friend’s contorted facial features. Her eyes were completely red, and underneath the flood of blood black veins pulsed over her cheekbones. White fangs poked out from between her red lips.

“What happened to you?” Bonnie whispered.

“Who the hell are you?” Diego dusted the stone from his jacket. “Vampires ain’t supposed to protect witches.”

Caroline and Bonnie watched in silence as Elena’s eyes returned to normal and shift to the first man.

“Is he going to be a problem, Thierry?”

“Witches don’t rule the Quarter anymore,” he glanced at Diego, “Marcel is in charge now, and witches caught practicing are put to death.” His voice grew quiet when her eyes narrowed. “It’s a new rule.”

Elena nodded and turned her attention back to Diego. Authority dripped from her tongue.

“You are not going to harm a hair on my friend’s head.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Diego scoffed, looking down his nose at the short brunette.

“I don’t think you heard me,” she smiled sweetly and advanced. Her hand flattened over his heart. Looking into his eyes she dropped her voice to a persuasive purr. “You are not going to harm my friend.”

Diego nodded, numbly.

“Now be a good little boy and take a message to Marcel,” she smiled when he nodded again, but her voice had hardened. “Tell him Elena is back and that he has a lot of explaining to do.”

She removed her hand from his chest and broke eye contact, watching as he shook himself from the hypnotic stupor and flashed away. She could feel the confused stares of her friends.

“Did you just compel a vampire?” Caroline swallowed.

“What did I do to you?” Horror flashed in Bonnie’s eyes.

“You didn’t do this, Bon,” Elena exhaled slowly. She ran her tongue over her aching gums. “It’s a very long story, and I need to tell off a vampire before I can really get into it. Aside from the power trip with the witches?”

“The wolves were run out of town. He’s older than you,” Thierry reminded her.

“He might be older, sweetie,” Elena turned around bringing her hand up to cup his cheek, “but I’m stronger. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I haven’t seen you in eighteen and a half years,” Thierry’s eyes narrowed. “Sue me for not wanting to lose my mother again after just getting her back.”

“Mother?” Caroline’s jaw dropped.

“Like I said,” Elena bit her bottom lip, “it’s a long story that I will gladly regale you with on the journey back to Mystic Falls.”

“You’re a vampire, and you’re gonna go flaunt that in Klaus’ face?” Bonnie gaped.

“In case you haven’t figured it out yet,” Elena flashed a teasing smile, “I’ve been gone longer than a few minutes, and in that time I’ve made a list of people I need to tell off. I finally know where Klaus is gonna be, so yeah I’m gonna rub this in his face. Thierry, perhaps you could give me the cliff-notes of the situation with the witches?”

“Botched Harvest.”

Chapter 2

Elena shifted from one foot to the other, eyeing the busy street. There were people everywhere which she found strange, given the hour. She had reset her watch to the correct time with Kol's help so a glance at her wrist that it was nearing three in the morning.

"Does this city ever sleep?" She leaned back from the gate until she was concealed in the cemetery shadows. A shiver raced down her spine, but sheer will power kept her from trembling; she had dressed for a mild afternoon in late autumn with a light winter coat, not for a freezing winter night.

"The city was built around the supernatural," Astrid stepped into the light that poured through the gates from a nearby lamppost. There were shadows under her heavy eyes. "Witches, vampires, and werewolves conduct most of their business at night."

"Embracing the cliché," Elena exhaled. She glanced back through the gates, crossing her arms.

"What's a cliché?" Mary Alice frowned. "It sounds French."

Elena wished that she had her cell phone – and that it worked – so she could look up common phrases for the year. She was going to have to watch everything she said so she didn't draw unwanted attention to herself, but these three knew she was not from their time.

"A cliché is what we call something that's overused like uh…" Elena's eyes narrowed as she thought. "Vampires sleep in coffins, or all witches have warts. It could also refer to a phrase like 'only time will tell', or 'actions speak louder than words'."

Mary Alice nodded once before running her eyes over Elena from head to toe and motioning to the street.

"You are going to stick out like a sore thumb."

A giggle bubbled up in her throat. She caught their questioning looks and swallowed her laughter.

"Sorry," she cleared her throat, "another cliché, but," she looked down at her clothes, "right in this case."

"You'll need proper clothes if you're going to blend in and remain off of Klaus' 'radar'," Mary Alice ran her eyes over Elena again. Her mouth twisted around the unfamiliar word. "I understood your meaning, but I'm afraid the word is unknown to me. What is radar?"

"It's a radio system used to detect ships, and airplanes and other stuff," she explained, waving her hand in a small circle close to her body, "by sending out pulses of electromagnetic waves that reflect back off the object to the source of the pulse. It was developed during the Second World War, but where I'm from we use 'radar' to talk about avoiding someone's attention; like right now I need to avoid everyone's radar."

"I've a way to avoid detection," Kol slipped his heavy coat off, draping it over Elena's shoulders. His hand lingered on her arm for a moment longer than necessary.

"I don't think a coat is going to help," Astrid clicked her tongue.

"Of course it won't," he released a deep sigh, "the coat is because she is freezing." His eyes flickered over her pale features and lips that were nearly blue.

Elena shifted on her heels to follow the retreat of his hand and the warmth that came from his body heat; she had been certain her discomfort was well hidden.

"Thank you," she cleared her throat. She caught a look from Mary Alice and took a small step away from him. "What's your plan, Kol?"

Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered the fact that she was meant to wait for leave before calling someone by their given name, but he hadn't corrected her once over the last few hours, and besides if he was going to call her 'darling' and 'love' and 'Elena' then she would call him 'Kol'.

"Do you suffer from motion sickness, darling?"

Elena shook her head. "I'll be fine."

"Good," he turned towards the witches, "until tomorrow evening, ladies."

Elena knew it was coming but she still gasped when he swept her up with an arm behind her back and one under her knees. Her hands were around his neck instinctively. She hid her face under his jaw, squeezing her eyes shut when he moved and the wind rushed around them both.

She counted to forty-seven before the air stopped racing around her. She was used to being moved at vampire speed, but she was pretty sure he had left a few internal organs behind in the cemetery.

---

Astrid bent at the waist and picked up the silver coin that had fallen from Elena's pocket when Kol had lifted her. She squinted at the fine print etched into the metal that intoned the year as 1987. She only looked up when Mary Alice whispered the question.

"Did she say 'Second World War'?"

"That's what I heard," she murmured.

"When was the first?"

---

Elena drew in a deep breath in the hopes that it would prepare her body to support her weight again and found her senses washed in his cologne. The intoxicating smell made her head swim.

"Are you alright, darling?" He placed her on her feet, steadying her with his hands on her hips. "Are you going to be ill?"

She gripped his arms, sucking in another breath; she could still smell him but the space between them meant the air she breathed cleared her head.

"I'm okay, promise," she smiled. "I'm just cold."

"A hot shower will do wonders," he motioned toward the stairs. "They're not overly common so if you need help to start it…"

Kol trailed off when he caught sight of her shaking shoulders. "What is so funny, darling?"

Elena followed him into a guest bedroom and watched him light a kerosene lamp.

"Showers are pretty common in the future," she took off his coat and handed it over, "I should be able to work it just fine."

"Okay," he nodded, "I'll fetch you something to sleep in."

"Thank you, Kol," she started towards the attached bathroom but paused. "Am I going to run into any of your siblings?"

"No, darling," he smirked. "I find it's better for family relations when I don't live with them."

She nodded and slipped into the bathroom. There was a closet along a wall where she found everything she would need. She set her towel on the counter and placed the toiletries in the shower before stripping down and stepping inside.

Metal pipes curved over the porcelain that curled around her body. She stared at the knobs for a few minutes until her entire body trembled before finally starting the shower.

There was a sharp hiss and a sudden spray.

She yelped. The water was cold. It began to heat up when the door burst open.

"Are you alright?"

She poked her head out from the curtain and found Kol's concerned face a few inches from her. She swallowed and adjusted the curtain an inch so only her face was visible.

"Fine," steam rose behind her, "the water was really cold, but it's warming up now."

He left once he was sure she was fine and she stepped back into the shower. Slowly the shivers stopped. The hot water was better than anything she could have imagined so she stayed under its spray until it became cold.

When she was back in the bedroom she found a neatly folded white shirt, so after drying off she located her underwear and let the shirt fall over her body. The material shifted around her knees as she slipped between the sheets.

She had the foresight to run the comb he had left through her hair before turning off the lamp, burrowing into the blankets and succumbing to sleep.

---

His hand flew over the page leaving behind a series of symbols and complex equations. He needed to find the right balance of elements so the spell would work. The plan was ingenious, but for it to succeed everything needed to be perfect; he had never missed his magic more.

He leaned back in his chair and observed the sunlight as it danced over the back of his hand, warming the skin. Nine hundred years earlier he could have drawn on its power to fuel his own and enact his vengeance on his brother, but that was then. Nine hundred years ago he had held no ill will towards his brother.

The sound of bare feet on the stairs drew his eyes up. He could hear the heart as she drew closer to the study.

It was possible that she was the key to winning the war and creating a safe city for the future generations of magic; that was the argument he planned on giving to Mary Alice anyway. He got the strong sense that she disliked the young doppelganger, but he knew Elena could be useful. Just as he knew she was hiding something; it had not escaped his notice when she skirted around certain topics.

She was distrustful of him, but he chose to believe that she would reveal her secrets in time; it wasn't as if she was going to vanish into thin air.

He had every intention of asking her further questions about the future, but the words flew from his head when she leaned in the door frame.

"Good morning," she blinked, looking at him sleepily.

His heart skipped a beat. "I think you mean afternoon, darling," he smirked.

Kol tilted his head when she bit her lower lip. He couldn't stop his eyes from sliding down the length of her body. A dark green shirt clung to the soft curves of her torso with a few open buttons revealing the shadow between the swell of her breasts. The undershirt covered the top portion of an even darker material that wrapped around her thighs and calves before flaring open to hand over the tops of her bare feet.

He was no stranger to the female figure, but seeing the clear shape of a woman outside the context of the bedroom was a little jarring.

"Is this," he nodded to her legs, "common attire where you come from?"

"Fairly normal," her left eyebrow shot up, 'it's actually really conservative. I could have vanished in a crowd wearing this, and now I can't go outside."

He carefully capped his fountain pen and placed it on the table before standing up and sauntering towards her. He stopped a few inches in front of her, dragging his eyes from her painted toes to her eyes.

"If you wish to blend in," he smirked, "you'll do better without the trousers, darling."

"Less than twenty-four hours and you're already trying to get me out of my pants," she smirked, tilting her head. A flush stained her cheeks a moment later. "I'm sorry, that was so inappropriate."

"You need not censor your words around me, darling," his mouth twitched up, "I know where you've come from, and I'm beginning to sense that whatever time it was is far more… open than this one."

He backed up a step when she nodded and lifted a small bundle from a leather chair.

"I left this morning and stole a few things from my sister," he placed the stack in her hands. "Why don't you put these on and I'll fix you a late breakfast? Then we'll go out and get you some clothes of your own."

"I won't be in 1914 that long," her forehead creased. "Why can't I just wear these?"

"Aside from the fact that Rebekah will notice the theft?" He lowered his eyes to her hands. "The fit will be off. You are taller that her and your figure is different."

He cleared his throat and lifted his eyes, biting down the desire he felt to tuck the loose curls behind her ears.

"Even if the dress was a perfect fit, and she was unlikely to notice we would still need to go out because you require shoes," he cocked an eyebrow. "Don't woman love shopping?"

"Kind of loses the appeal when it's a necessity," she gave him a small grin.

His heart skipped a beat.

"I'll go and change. Will my own shoes work for now?"

"They'll have to do," he teased. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."

---

Elena tilted her head and examined her appearance in the fold out mirrors, starting at her feet. There was a slight curve to the low heeled shoe before the grey stockings that covered her legs. She could only see the first inch above her ankles before the bell of a violet skirt that flared out before tapering in at her waist. A gold cloth belt separated the top of the dress from the bottom. The sleeves were a sheer purple that revealed a hint of skin without baring her arms to the public.

"This doesn't seem right," she chewed her bottom lip. Her voice was low, but she knew Kol had no problem hearing her on the other side of the curtain.

"Are you decent, love?"

Her lips curled up in a slow smile. The first time she had uttered those words he had stepped inside and found her holding the sides of the white corset that was starting to slip. She'd had the great pleasure of watching his cheeks colour at the knowledge that she had not been speaking to him, but the attendant who had been trying to adjust the laces. He had left pretty quickly after that and then it had been her turn to blush when Valerie had whispered in her ear.

"Your husband embarrasses easily."

She nearly chocked on her tongue. Valerie's next words had Elena blushing.

"If you wish to truly shock him you should try the newest lingerie from Paris," her breath was hot on Elena's neck, "I assure you the brassiere is quite scandalous in addition to being comfortable."

"I'm not in the market for scandal," Elena looked down, "but you had me at comfort. I'm willing to try anything that doesn't permanently alter the shape of my body."

She wasn't sure how to react to Valerie's assumption since to her it seemed the only reasonable explanation for why he would burst into her dressing room.

"I promise all of my undergarments are covered," she stifled her giggle when she caught Valerie's smirk in the mirror.

"What doesn't seem right then, darling?" He stepped into the large dressing room. His dark eyes danced over the purple dress. "You don't like it?"

"It's not that," Elena met his eyes in the mirror, "it's just so different than what I've seen everyone else wearing… almost everyone else," she glanced at Valerie; her grey skirt was cut in a similar style.

"I assure you darling," he moved closer and reached out to smooth the white collar, "everyone else lacks a sense of high fashion."

"Flared skirts are the newest thing," Valerie added with a grin. "I hear overseas they are calling it the war crinoline."

Kol read the confusion in Elena's eyes before a flicker of realization took over. He cleared his threat and turned to Valerie giving her a charming smile.

"I trust you have my wife's measurements on file now."

"Yes, sir," she smiled.

"Wonderful," he smirked, "would you be kind enough to gather everything up? She'll need an assortment of skirts, blouses, dresses, and underthings. Would you prefer to wear this one out, darling? You do look ravishing."

Elena managed a small nod and Kol turned his attention back to Valerie.

"All of the required accessories and shoes to match as well thank you Valerie."

"Right away."

Valerie left them alone and Elena turned around with her hands on her hips. The small podium and curved heels made her a few inches taller than him, so she cocked an eyebrow and look down into his laughing eyes.

"Your wife?"

"You let that one go first," he teased. "Did you select the newest hosiery from Paris? Is it as comfortable as Valerie claimed?"

"Extremely," she smiled.

"And scandalous?" He grinned suggestively, eyes flickering to her chest. The look was just long enough that she noticed.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She smirked, rolling her shoulders back. "Could you help me down, I'm scared I'll trip over the edge."

She was hoping for a steadying hand, but he surprised her by taking her waist and lifting her from her perch. Her skirt swayed around her calves when she was on the ground.

"Where can I find Valerie?" She lowered her hands from his shoulders.

"She is packaging our purchases and sending them to the address I gave her lovely co-worker, why?"

"Because I don't need that much stuff."

"You should have a selection," Kol kept his hands on her hips to stop her from racing off. "And it's already done."

Elena shook her head and sighed. She spoke slowly, making sure her words were perfectly chosen; the last thing she wanted to do was offend an Original.

"While that's very kind, and generous, it's too much. I won't be here that long, right? I don't need that much stuff, and I don't want you wasting your money on me."

"Elena," he saw the surprise when he used her name, "I have been accumulating wealth for nine centuries with no reason to spend it, so I assure you I am not wasting anything. Now come with me."

She let him tuck her hand into the crook of his elbow and lead her back onto the sales floor. Her features twisted into a frown when he brought her to a stop in front of a rack of heavy wool.

"Don't argue with me on this one, darling," he patted her hand. "It's December and you need a coat. Which do you like?"

She wanted to argue, but as far as the coat went he had a point and her eyes were drawn to a bright red material.

"That's a lovely choice," he followed her gaze. Reaching out he took the jacket from the hanger and held it out so she could slide her arms in the sleeves.

Elena admired her reflection in a nearby mirror for a moment, but then shook her head.

"It's beautiful, but too bright. Somebody might notice and recognize me."

"It would be impossible not to notice you, darling," he heard her heart skip a beat and smiled, "but I promise that nobody will recognize you."

Her brows lowered in confusion.

"Look at your hand," he murmured, coming up behind her.

She was confused but complied. Her right hand was bare, but there was a ring on her left hand with a small piece of pyrite on the band.

"As long as you wear that nobody will remember your face, except for me," he held out his hand to reveal a matching ring. "I wouldn't want to lose you in a crowd."

"Mary Alice?"

"Somebody else," he shook his head. "I have several witches in the city. The rings were spelled by Freya."

"Oh, okay," she nodded as if she knew who that was so supposed to be. "When did you put this on me?"

"When we walked in the store," he smirked. "You're not unobservant darling; you've just been surrounded by yards of fabric."

---

Elena spun the gold band around her index finger; the pyrite had long since lost the power it had once held, but she had never been able to let the trinket go. It had been the first step towards trust between them; the first time she had believed he would really hide her from Klaus.

"Okay."

Elena pressed her lips together to hide her smirk; it was no easy feat since the person to break the silence was Caroline. She turned on her heel to face her friend.

"You gotta tell us something," Caroline grabbed Elena's arms. There was no need since she had stopped her quick walk down the street. "How'd you get inside that tomb? Why are your clothes so shabby? Where'd you get the ring and necklace? Who the heck is this guy?"

Elena wrapped her hands around Caroline's elbows and met her friend's eyes.

"Caroline, I will tell you everything, I promise," she took a deep breath, "but first I have to go in here and talk to Marcel, okay?"

Caroline followed her nod to the building. There was an ornate 'm' above a curled serpent encased in a shield. She licked her lips and moved to follow, but stopped and narrowed her eyes.

"Did you just compel me?" She tilted her head.

Elena sighed and turned back around to face the blonde again.

"I may possess the ability to compel you Caroline, but I swear to you that I did not and that I never will. Do you believe me?"

"I do," Bonnie breathed. She saw Caroline nod and glanced at Thierry before focusing on Elena. "Let's get this done and then we can go home. Ten hours in a car should be lots of time to talk over everything."

Elena nodded in agreement and turned to the gates. She pushed the iron open and moved inside with fire in her eyes. Thunder rumbled in the distance in time with the click of her heels.

Two dozen vampires turned to look at her when she entered with varying degrees of surprise, but only one of them registered recognition when he saw her face.

"Well, well, well," he leaned over the balcony with his hands on the railing, "Elena Gilbert. I was starting to think I'd never see you again."

"Clearly," she glared up at him. "What's this I hear about witches being attacked for their practice?"

"What's this I hear about you compelling me boy, here?" He tilted his head towards Diego.

"Your boy attacked my friend," Elena cocked an eyebrow. "Now Marcel," she smiled, "I'm starting to think you're not happy to see me."

"You're one of my oldest friends," he grinned, "I'm overjoyed to see you."

"Yet you outlawed magic despite knowing I would be waking soon through the aid of magic," Elena stepped closer and tipped her head back. Marcel was a floor above her and wearing a cocky grin, but she didn't feel small.

"I've been busy running my city," his smile fell slightly.

"We've got to talk," she rolled her shoulders back, "about the Harvest, the witches and the future of our city."

She heard the whispers behind her between Caroline and Bonnie along with Thierry's quiet assurance that all would be explained in due time. From the balcony another whisper stared; it was hot and angry, and directed at her friends.

"Perhaps we should talk somewhere more private," Marcel cleared his throat.

Elena nodded, but stood her ground when he descended the stairs. She could feel the tension rolling from the courtyard in waves so thick it would have knocked a lesser person over. Her eyes flitted from unknown face to unknown face before addressing the room as a whole.

"I don't know who you are, where you came from, or what you are doing in my home, and I get the sense that none of you know of me," she saw a few quick nods and smiled the sweetest smile she had, "and that is fine. Right now I don't care to know about you, and there is only one thing you need to know about me."

Her smile morphed before their eyes into a dark expression that had every vampire with the exception of Caroline and Thierry tugging at collars that were suddenly too constricting. She pointed to her friends and spoke slowly to ensure each syllable sank in.

"If either of my friends, or my son, is harmed while I'm gone I will redecorate my home with the offenders and made Klaus Mikaelson look like a golden retriever."

Marcel tried to speak but found his throat dry. He swallowed and tried again.

"They – uh… they don't know who Klaus is."

Elena's eyes narrowed as she turned to face him.

"Let me see if I've got this straight? You made a gang out of infants who have never heard of the Originals, who pretty much built New Orleans from the mud." She leaned closer and whispered in a voice that was meant to carry. "Do you call yourselves the lollipop guild?"

"I'm sure T, or one of your friends can explain," he reached for her elbow.

"I remember the way."

Chapter 3

2011

---

 

Elena twisted the ring around her finger and eyed the oak shelves with their leather bound volumes; they were the same books she had used to teach Thierry how to read. The only thing different about the room was a new computer on the desk. Everything else was exactly as she had left it in 1992 including the privacy spells over the doors and windows.

"So," her voice was heavy with sarcasm as she leaned back on her heels, "what are you and the little rascals up to?"

"Don't joke, they're the best of the best," Marcel crossed his arms; his tone held a silken thread of warning.

"They are children who failed history," she rolled her eyes. He had clearly forgotten who he was talking to.

Elena dropped to sit on a leather club chair where she drummed her fingers on the arm. She fixed him in the unblinking stare she had perfected in the 20s.

"Don't you go giving me the 'mom' look," his mouth curled up in a smirk, but there was an unmistakable thawing in his voice, "I swear I cleaned all of my dirty laundry."

"We need to talk about the Harvest," she leaned back in her seat.

"I already know what you're gonna say," he held out his hands, dropping to sit across from her. "You are going to side with the witches."

"Don't presume to know me so well," her eyes flashed with an unfathomable light.

"You were my best friend for seventy-three years. You saved my life, and shared my home," he tilted his head. "I know you, Elena, and I know you're gonna land on the side of magic cause you always do, but you don't know the facts this time."

"The Harvest is a ritual performed every three centuries – give or take a decade – in which four teenage girls are sacrificed to renew the connection to the ancestors." She twirled her finger in the air. "The girls are supposed to come back and be celebrated as pillars of the community. If the witches don't appease their ancestors their link to that magic will fade away."

"Do you believe it?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Do you believe they come back?"

"I never presumed to understand ancestral magic."

"Would you have risked the lives of innocent children? My rules are the same as yours Elena: no kids. So tell me the truth."

She met his eyes and leaned forward in her chair; sorrow danced in her eyes.

"No, I wouldn't have done it," her voice grew soft. She held her hand out to keep him from interrupting. "I would have stopped it before it began, and I don't think that's what you did."

For the first time since she had entered the compound she saw his confidence slip and got a glimpse of the man she had known for decades. His eyes dropped to her knees. She suspected the privacy spells were the reason he didn't try to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

"I tried, Elena. I tried."

"I'm sure you did," she reached for his hand, squeezing his fingers. She didn't want to say the next bit, but it couldn't be left. "Did the girls…?"

"Three of them are dead," he hung his head.

Elena's head snapped up and for a moment she could only stare at him. She had expected no survivors.

"One of them is alive?" A tense know began to form in her stomach.

"We stopped the ritual," he nodded, basking in the knowledge of his power and proud that he had achieved it alone. "Now Davina tracks anyone using magic for me, and my army enforces the rules and takes out anyone who breaks them." He was going to go on when he saw the look of dread on her face. "What is it?"

Elena chewed her bottom lip and stood up to pace in front of the desk. She didn't know if the girls would come back. She didn't know if they would stay dead, but she did know the Harvest. She knew each girl who died passed her power to the next. She knew no girl – no person – was capable of holding that much power. And the though the thought shattered her she knew the magic would eventually kill Davina.

"You have to give her back to the witches." She wanted to weep for the girl she had never met.

"Are you crazy? Did that eighteen year nap addle your brain?" Marcel stood, his voice rising. "Davina is the only thing keeping those witches in line. If they get their hands on her they will kill her and take back control of the city, and they will take it back with a vengeance."

"Don't you think I know they'll kill her?" She glared at him. "She's a child. She should be protected. It should have never come to this point."

"What point?"

"The point where it comes down to a choice between an innocent girl and the city," she shook her head. "Give her back and pray the second part of the ritual is true because if you don't the ancestors will use every element invoked in the ritual to destroy the city."

She knew if the ritual went unfinished more than four would rest in early graves.

The sound of a grandfather clock chiming the hour drew her eyes to the corner of the room.

"I have to go if I'm gonna make it back to Mystic Falls in time. Can you clean up the Harvest on your own?"

"I've been successfully cleaning up after myself for almost twenty years. What's your rush?"

"I'd like to spend a little time with my son before I hurry back. I'd hate to be late for AP Biology." Her mouth curled in distaste.

"After everything you're seriously going back to high school?"

"Until I find what I'm looking for I need to keep up appearances," she sighed in resignation, "I'll call to check in when I can." She had missed her friends while she was gone, but she had already graduated once.

Marcel watched her walk to the door.

"Would it really be that bad?"

Elena paused with her hand on the knob and turned to look back over her shoulder. Originals might have scoffed at her next statement, but she knew the words were true.

"The ancestors will make Klaus and Kol look like children playing war."

---

 

1914

---

 

She didn't think it was possible but the shelves looked like they held more objects than they had the previous evening. Her nerves had been all but shot and she thought she might still be in a bit of shock so she marvelled over her surroundings and ran her gloved fingers over the shelf until reaching a set of iron shackles.

She hesitated before picking up the cuffs. Through her gloves she felt an electric shock raising the hairs of her arm on the path to her heart; the organ clenched painfully.

Mary Alice's voice startled her into dropping the iron onto the shelf with a clang and a sense of unease she hadn't realized was there lifted.

"Who is she?" She regarded Elena with hardening eyes.

"You're kidding, right?" Elena's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"She's not, darling," Kol grinned, "you're still wearing your ring."

"Right," Elena nodded. Twin scarlet stains appeared on her cheeks. She pulled her gloves from her hand and slipped the gold ring from her left hand into her jacket pocket. She had completely forgotten it.

"Ah," Astrid nodded approval in her eyes, "a glamour spell."

"There are many people who know Elena's features," Kol glanced up from the table, "I couldn't have her being recognized."

Mary Alice wanted to ask what witch he had approached for the spell, but she had a feeling she didn't want to know the answer. So she nodded to the bright red coat.

"I see you've purchased some new clothes."

Elena slid off her coat when Kol came up behind her. He aided her in removing the sleeves and hung the wool on a coat rack while the witches scrutinized the violet dress.

"Better?" She held out the sides of her full skirt and twisted slightly.

"Modern," Mary Alice looked the doppelganger over, "bright, revealing," Elena touched the sleeves, "I doubt the style will catch on."

Elena could practically hear the words she wasn't saying: you look like a ten cent whore.

"Maybe not," she cleared her throat and decided not to mention the length hemlines would eventually shrink to. For the time being she would settle for shutting the blonde up; she could practically feel the animosity coming from the witch. "Maybe it will never catch on, but at least if I'm recognized I'll have a chance – however small – to run. Brown and grey may be neutral colours but I wouldn't get very far in that skirt."

Elena's eyes flickered to the tapered material around Mary Alice's feet. She knew without donning the garment that she could only have managed the tiniest of steps. Bringing her gaze back up Elena smiled sweetly.

"So what are you guys working on?" She walked around the table and eyed the mess that they had left. "I didn't realize witches were involved in Chemistry."

"It's a new magic that Kol learned on the shores of the Red Sea," Mary Alice picked up a sparkling gem. "It's called Kemiya."

"We use a perfect paragon diamond to focus our magic," Astrid continued. She reached out to take the diamond.

Elena picked up a bracelet and ran her finger over the twisting vines of metal. She kept an ear on the conversation, but the majority of her attention was on the trinket in her hands; there was a feeling growing in the back of her mind accompanied by a rush of blood in her ears; it was a nauseating sinking despair, and she got the sense that if she fought back any action she took would be futile.

"What's Kemiya?" Elena heard her voice through water. The sense of despair was accompanied by a rush of absolute power that unsettled her.

Kol settled his hand on the small of her back and with his free hand he gently took the bracelet from her grasp and placed it on the table.

"It's the intersection between science and spirit, darling," he met her daze eyes; slowly the haze cleared. "With the right chemistry you could realize your wildest dreams."

Elena's heart skittered when he gave her a searching look, but she had no idea what he was looking for. The witches' chanting drew her eyes to the left where the bracelet stared up at her.

"What's that for?" She focused on the object in the hands of Mary Alice and Astrid. The seven-pointed star looked unassuming enough; it could have been a decoration for a Christmas tree, but then they dropped it with a grunt of pain and it didn't look so innocent anymore.

Kol plucked the object from the table with a smirk. He fingered one of the points, careful not to break the skin.

"A knife that can cause a thousand cuts with one throw," he tilted his head. "I had planned it for the traitors who dare to work with my tyrannical wanker of a brother so they wouldn't have a chance to say a word of their pathetic spells, but I have a better use for it now."

Elena opened her mouth to say something about how horrible that was but her jaw snapped shut as he presented the star to her. She looked from his hand to his face and back before shaking her head.

"I could never use something like that." There was absolutely no way she was going to take that from him. "That thing could kill someone. I can't use it."

"Not even on Klaus?"

Elena's breath hitched as she stared at the object that she suddenly realized could mean the difference between her life and death. A thousand cuts would incapacitate an Original vampire, maybe even long enough to enter a human's house where a threshold would protect her, at least for a little while.

She bit her lip until it throbbed before she finally raised her hand and carefully took the knife from him. She starred at it like it might bite her if she took her eyes off it. She retrieved a handkerchief and wrapped it up before dropping it in her ridicule.

"Do I want to know that the shackles and bracelet do?" She mentally applauded when her voice didn't shake.

"The shackles stop a witch's power," Astrid massaged her fingers, "and the bracelet forces obedience."

"That's despicable," Elena gasped. She didn't know which of her companions to direct her disapproving glare at so she just stared at them all with wide eyes.

"And every weapon is more disturbing than the last," Astrid crossed her arms. "We have more than enough; it's time to make our move."

"Do you ever tire of being such a spoil sport Astrid?" Kol groaned, throwing up his hands. His brows drew down in an exasperated frown. "We don't have to use them all. The important thing is to show Klaus' witches that you're more powerful than they ever imagined; scaring them into standing down."

Elena swallowed and noted the set lines of his face. Her heart hammered as she stared around the tomb and wondered just what kind of man she had gotten involved with. What kind of man created such objects to use against his own brother?

"And it will scare Klaus the same way he scared me for centuries…"

Elena's eyes snapped to Kol as he strode across the tomb and opened a glass cabinet with a key from his pocket. His voice echoed back from the glass case.

"All my immortal life my brother has controlled me, stolen decades of my life, all by the constant threat…"

Elena knew what if was going to be before he turned around with the hilt of the blade in his hand and suddenly she saw beyond the angry clamp of his mouth and dark eyes.

"… Of a dagger to the heart." He stared at the silver for a moment and then looked up, pointing with the blade to the shelves. "All of these dark objects are merely practice for you to hone your skills," he turned the hilt to Mary Alice, "for this…"

Kol met Elena's eyes over their heads; his lips twisted into a tight smile.

"… A dagger of gold that will work on Klaus and Klaus alone."

---

They had stayed in the cemetery for a few hours until Kol heard Elena's stomach grumble and decided it was time for a late dinner.

He scrutinized her pensive expression from across the table and the methodic movement of her fork from the plate to her mouth.

He lowered his fork and tilted his head.

"You're awfully quiet this evening."

"How do you know I'm not quiet all of the time?" She stared at her plate.

"While it's true that we haven't known each other long," he folded his napkin in half, "I feel like I've gotten to know you over the course of our short acquaintance."

"And today I got a glimpse of you," she looked up through her lashes.

"Ah ha," he nodded. "The dark objects?"

Elena lifted her chin and met his eyes. They had once been open, but now they were guarded by walls that hid his thoughts.

"You've gotten a glimpse of the demon within, and you're thinking that my reputation as a blood thirsty psychopath is spot on," he cocked an eyebrow. "You think I'm crazy and murderous."

"No," she cut him off, "I don't think that." He gave her a pointed look. "I don't think you're crazy, or murderous, or a psychotic maniac." She saw Kol's eyes narrow and offered a name as an answer: "Astrid."

"That does sound like her," he chuckled. His expression turned serious as he leaned over the table. "If you don't believe the rumours then what do you think of me?"

Elena hesitated before hooking her feet around the chair's legs. She leaned closer and tilted her head, searching his dark eyes for confirmation of her conclusion.

"I think you're angry," his brows lowered, "because your brother is a 'tyrannical wanker'."

"I haven't made a secret of that," he frowned. "I believe I've been quite vocal about it."

"Protecting future generations of magic," she rolled her eyes, "is a line for the witches, and maybe you do care about their problems, and maybe deep down you do want to help them, but you're not getting them to make these objects so they can instill fear."

She took her ridicule from the table and pulled out the throwing knife, sliding if towards him.

"I told you to keep that," he didn't break eye contact when the star reached him. He caught her wrist and flattened her palm over the dark objects; he could almost feel the magic through her skin. "Just because you have something doesn't mean you have to use it."

"Will that be your philosophy when you have a gold dagger?"

"There is something to be said for the art of terror," he smirked.

"You don't want to scare him, Kol," she shook her head. It was hard to think with the way her hand tingled under his. "You want to protect yourself because you're scared. You're scared that he'll steal more time. You might be more afraid of Klaus than I am."

"I'm not afraid of anything," he dropped his eyes and started to back up.

"That's the first lie you've told me." She flipped her hand over and grabbed his hand, wrapped her fingers around his. "You are afraid of him, and I get it. It's okay. I'd think you were crazy if you weren't scared."

"Soon he'll be the one shaking in fear," he swore. Something in her eyes stopped him from continuing. "What is it? Honesty goes both ways, darling."

"You've…" she chewed her bottom lip before sighing. "You should be afraid because you're gonna lose."

"How could you possibly know that? You said you knew nothing of this war," disbelief flickered over his features.

She felt tears threatening to spill and blinked them away. She could say it, but it was hard; Kol was the only one who hadn't despised her or plotted her death from the start.

"I know because you…" she closed her eyes and tried again. "I've met Elijah. I've met Klaus, and I've met Rebekah, but I've never met you." She had never gotten a full explanation, but she assumed Klaus had dredged up his sister after Elijah let him live.

"That doesn't mean anything," he shook his head. "I once went two centuries without seeing my siblings."

"No," she pressed her lips together, "that's not it. I haven't met you because you were daggered…"

He paled visibly, terror flashing in his eyes as he whispered: "he always takes it out."

"… and dropped at the bottom of the ocean."

---

Astrid watched her friend read through the prepared spell with vacant eyes and knew without a doubt that her mind was far away, envisioning the scene where the 'young couple' were sharing a late supper in 'their home'.

"You're going to give yourself frown lines," she murmured. Picking up a dried flower, she started plucking the petals.

Mary Alice slapped her hands on the table making Astrid jump.

"Why is he helping her?"

"Because she was in need of his help," she sighed.

The months spent with Kol Mikaelson in preparation of war had painted a clear picture of the Original in her mind. He was a conniving fox using the pair of them for his own gains and Mary Alice was blinded by her lust for him to the point to the point where she just couldn't see his psychotic ways.

"Anyone in New Orleans could have helped her," she spat.

"There were two outcomes to that," Astrid shook her head. "She would have either wound up in an insane asylum, or someone would have taken her to Klaus. You heard her and Kol; if Klaus uses her he'll become even more powerful than he already is."

"I understand that," she dropped to sit on a stool, "but that doesn't mean he has to treat her the way he does."

"Treat her like what?" Astrid's eyes narrowed. "He's been nothing short of the perfect gentleman." Hope rose in her chest. Was Mary Alice finally seeing him?

She stared at her friend with a mixture of dread and anticipation.

Astrid had been certain she understood the Original but the last few days had only served to confuse her. He was a mad cap trickster, but then a brunette he called a doppelganger fell from the sky and she had seen a different side of him. She hadn't thought him capable of common decency, but that didn't change the fact that he was still using the pair of them.

"He thinks she has information that can help him, but this is what he wants," she turned the dagger over in her hand.

Put it down and walk away, Astrid thought. Leave him to her and let her do whatever it is to him that's making him act the way he is.

The blonde stared at the blade for a long moment before holding it out to Astrid and meeting her dark eyes.

"Let's try it again."

Astrid sighed before holding out her hand.

---

She stared at the metal star on the nightstand and leaned forward. There was a stiffness in her neck and she knew she couldn't look at it anymore because if she did the knots in her stomach would turn to full blown nausea.

She strode to the writing desk in the corner of her bedroom and ripped a thick sheet of paper from a heavy book. Moving back to the bed she picked up the star and folded the paper over it before setting it down again.

She didn't think sleep would come anytime soon and the last thing she wanted to do was stare at the ceiling. At home she would have curled up on her window seat and written in her journal until her vision swam and sleep crept in, but there was an itch in her legs, a tingling sensation under her toes and no window seat in sight, so she slipped her feet into the house shoes at the foot of the bed, wrapped a blue sweater around her body and moved into the hall.

His home was beautiful with high ceilings, gleaming hardwood floors, pocket doors and more bedrooms than he would ever need since he liked to live apart from his siblings. There were five bedrooms, five bathrooms, a living room, a library, and a study in addition to a 'modern' kitchen and a large dining room.

Fifteen rooms spaced out over two floors and Kol wasn't in any of them.

She was starting to think he had gone out to meet with the witches when she stepped into the kitchen and felt a cold rush of air. She wrapped her arms around her torso and tiptoed toward the door that hadn't completely closed. Through the glass she spotted the still form of who she sincerely hoped was Kol. She hurried back into the hall, opened the linen closet and snatched a couple of heavy woolen blankets.

He didn't look up when she walked outside or acknowledge her presence at all until she was right beside him and holding out one of the blankets.

"I thought you might be cold," she brushed her fingers over his during the transfer and an electric jolt raced up her arm.

She unfolded the second blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She curled her legs under her body as she sat on the edge of the wool next to him.

"Should I not have told you?" Her arms curved over her stomach.

"What reaction were you expecting when you told me my brother is more of a wanker than I thought he was?" He straightened his spine. The blanket sat heavily in his hands.

"Honestly," she sighed, "I thought you'd accuse me of lying, or something."

"I know you weren't lying to me." He shifted closer to Elena until he could feel her body heat. "Your heart jumps when you're dishonest."

"So what are you doing out here?" She curled and uncurled her toes.

"Thinking," he shrugged, "staring at the stars." He lifted his knee, propping his elbow on it. "Mulling over the knowledge that one day I'll be sleeping with fish at the bottom of the ocean."

"Was he always like this?"

"Not always," he glanced at the tip of her nose; it was growing red in the still air. "It's hard to remember a time when he wasn't. I don't think I know what a good brother is anymore."

"How did you get to this point?" She turned her chin to look at him. "How did it come to the point where you can't even be in the same house?"

"Eternity is a long time," he shrugged, "eventually people grow apart."

"They're your family. I can't imagine getting to a point where I'd go to war with family."

"Do you have siblings Elena?"

"A brother," she swallowed, lowering her eyes. There was tightness in her chest that had nothing to do with the cold. "I miss him. I can't imagine anything he would do that would prompt me into giving someone a weapon that could kill him."

"Then he's not like my siblings."

"Do none of you get along? I would have thought transitioning brought you closer together."

"It did," he laid back and stared up at the night sky. "It made Elijah, Nik and Rebekah thick as thieves with their ridiculous vow of family above all that they only ever extended to us when it suited them."

"Us?" Elena shifted her hair over one shoulder and stretched out next to him on the cobblestones. She curled in on herself at first but the ground warmed the longer she was on it – that or she was going numb.

"Finn," he snapped open the other blanket and draped it over her, "daggered these last eight centuries."

"Were you and Finn close?" She rolled on her left side and studied his profile.

"Finn was… we should have been close, but he couldn't stand the sight of any of us after the transition. I used to look at him and see the disgust in his eyes; he hated what he had become."

Cool fingers slipped into his hand causing a tingling sensation under his skin.

"You're freezing," he squeezed her fingers. "You should be inside."

"I'm okay for a little while." She felt like he needed someone just to sit with him for a bit and it wasn't that cold next to him.

"If I put my arm around you am I going to be nicked?" He smirked. "A thousand cuts won't kill me, but it would be bloody uncomfortable."

"I left the devil's star upstairs," she shrugged, with a trace of laughter in her voice.

"The devil's star?" His gentle laugh rippled through the air.

"It seemed fitting."

"Fair enough."

Kol let go of her hand, slipped his arm under her body and drew her closer until he could feel her body temperature: still at a normal level. She shifted to watch the sky and he felt his eyes drawn to her face.

"I left it upstairs folded in a piece of paper," she played with the blanket's edge, "it makes me feel uncomfortable when I touch it. It feels like I'm holding…" she chewed her lip while thinking of the perfect word, "… death. I've never felt anything like that."

"I'm certain you've felt stuff like that before."

"Death in the palm of my hand?" She arched an eyebrow and tipped her head up.

"Perhaps not that," he held out his left hand, "but other things." Lifting the edge of the blanket he located her hand and laced their fingers together. He felt the tingling sensation again and heard her breath catch. "What do you feel now?"

"You, inappropriately holding my hand?" She guessed.

"But wrapping my arm around you was fine?"

"You're warm," she emphasized the statement by moving a few inches closer.

"So you admit you're cold?"

"Who said I was cold?"

"One of these days I'll get you to admit it," he chuckled, "but for now I'll settle for you listening to me. Close your eyes love, and just feel."

"I've heard that line before," she murmured, but closed her eyes all the same.

At first she could feel nothing beyond the heat of his palm, but then there was a rush of ice through her veins and without thinking about it she moved closer to the warmth of his body. The cold didn't last long before she felt a mix of intense emotions wash over her: blood boiling rage, heart stopping fear, throat closing sorrow, supressed flickers of guilt, an overwhelming sense of loneliness and the start of warmth behind her heart.

The feelings were extreme, emotionally draining and not hers.

Kol heard her whisper 'you' before she slipped into sleep. He marveled at the weight of trust she was showing him and let her sleep until he felt her cheek cool before carrying her inside to her bed.

He brushed her hair away from her mouth and watched her sleep for a long moment before standing and unfolding the paper. He blanched when he found nothing inside and stared at the perfect likeness of the devil's star on the page.

Notes:

Drop off a Review and let me know what you're thinking of this story.

Chapter 4

2011

---

"1914!"

Elena blinked under the shocked outburst and waited for Caroline to finish her rant. She listened to the snapped words and speeding pulse of her old friend; the best thing for her sanity meant allowing Caroline to get everything out in the open at once.

Bonnie flinched, curling her fingers around her upper arms hard enough to leave bruises on her dark skin. Every sidelong glare and venom tinged word stabbed at her conscious, reminding her who held the responsibility for their best friend's newfound condition; the condition everyone had fought so hard to avoid less than a year before.

"You died there," Caroline shrieked.

The coherent part of her speech broke until the sole words passing her lips consisted of variations of her final three and Bonnie picked at her croissant, tearing the flaky pastry to shreds.

Elena allowed four variations and then cut off the babbling blonde.

"That's enough Care; what's done is done," she rubbed Bonnie's arm. "You're guilty and you have no reason to be."

"I sent you into the past," she touched her bottom lip. The deep breath in burned through her tight chest. "You died there, 'Lena."

"I transitioned," she twisted the gold band until the pyrite glittered in the sun. "I made friends. I rebuilt the city after the fires. I had a family here. I lived a good life, you know," she smiled, dropping her voice, "after it ended."

"And you raised a baby," Caroline leaned over the table. Her voice lowered to a hushed whisper for the question she kept in while Thierry had been with them, but he had taken his leave before dessert to pick something up for Elena. "Who's his dad?"

"I don't know," Elena shrugged.

"You don't know," Caroline's brows shot up. "Elena Gilbert…"

"I don't know the identity of his mother, either," she lifted her glass, sucking down a healthy mouthful of her smoothie, "so please refrain from calling me a wanton hussy."

Bonnie gaped for a moment and then snapped her mouth shut.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Wanton hussy?" Caroline mouthed the words.

Elena placed her drink on the table and tuned out the patio's chattering patrons. Crossing her arms she hovered over the table.

"I dropped into New Orleans in the midst of a supernatural war between the witches; there was famine, plague…"

"Cat giving birth to snakes?"

"War, Care," Elena snickered, "not Armageddon. A lot of people died in the cross fire including Thierry's parents. I took him in…"

"Took him in where?" Bonnie swallowed. "How did you adapt and get by? You had nothing."

"Literally nothing," Caroline dropped a black purse on the table, "but the clothes on your back."

Elena picked up the supple leather. She remembered purchasing it in a tiny boutique with her friends. The black stitching frayed on the left, threatening to bust open and spill the contents over the china holding the remnants of lunch.

"This used to be a lot cuter," she clicked her tongue, hooking the bag over her chair. She pushed some stray tendrils of rich brown hair from her cheek and leaned forward again to meet their eyes.

"I had help. I was there for a few minutes – well conscious for a few minutes – when someone found me. Did you know the Originals used to live here? That compound we were in belonged to them. The 'm' you see everywhere is there family crest."

Caroline's mouth snapped shut; on her left Bonnie froze. For a long moment her surprise rendered her speechless, and when she spoke again her voice emerged in a low whisper, far shakier than she liked it.

"Please tell me an Original didn't find you?"

"I can't do that," Elena shook her head. She crossed her arms on the table. "I got lucky though because the one who found me was the only one who wouldn't turn me over to Klaus."

"Elijah?" Bonnie guessed. "He tried to save you."

"It wasn't Elijah – he never even learned my name," she chewed her bottom lip. "They have another brother – two actually, but I only met the one – and he hated Klaus."

She took a deep breath and told them about the first few days in 1914. She recounted her first meeting with Kol, the way he had burst in when he heard her shriek in the shower, the adorable scarlet blush that had stained his cheekbones in the dressing room, and finally learning about Finn.

Caroline shot a sly smile at Elena.

"I notice you have avoided telling us what he looks like," Caroline teased, encouraged by Elena's sudden flush.

Elena having any sort of positive feelings for an Original vampire raised bile in Bonnie's throat – the family had delivered nothing but grief in her life – but she was incapable of holding back her teasing as well.

"You got fake married so we should at least have fake wedding pictures."

"We were mistaken for married," Elena rolled her eyes, "and I only have the one photograph; it's very old and sensitive to sunlight so I only take it out inside and away from natural sources of light."

"You gotta give us something until then," Caroline's blonde curls gleamed gold in the sunlight.

"Okay," she tilted her head. His features appeared in her mind and for a moment he was standing right in front of her. "Picture Elijah, but younger and with a mischievous smile. He helped me when anyone else who knew what I was would have handed me over to Klaus, and he was kind to me." She tugged at her hair and swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Klaus thrust a silver dagger through his heart, and now that I'm not tied down in a lengthy nap I will be resuming my search for him." Elena's pulse quickened, showing for one brief moment in a fluttering vein beneath her right eye. "That search starts with Klaus."

---

1914

---

Days passed and they slipped into an easy routine around the house, but Elena's restlessness increased. She missed her brother and friends more and more every day; he caught the forlorn light in her eyes that she tried to hide, and though he didn't understand the relationships she missed, the sorrow behind her eyes pulled at his heart.

Her eyes danced in his mind, distracting him from the crowded café. He regretted leaving her alone in the house with her thoughts.

A smooth, but insistent, voice drew his consciousness back to the table and the steaming mug of cocoa the same shade as her eyes.

His gaze moved upwards over the graceful curve of her lower lip to her analytical green eyes; there in the polished emerald rested a secret she had yet to speak.

"I would apologize for being late," she folded her ridicule on the table, "but it seems you hardly noticed my absence."

She pulled a small bundle of sage from her pocket and extended the herb until it met the tall flame of the candle; they caught fire and smouldered. She waved the fragrant smoke around them, blew out the flame and placed the smoking sage on the wood.

"Are we feeling paranoid today, love?" He raised an eyebrow.

"There are ears everywhere," she breathed, "and we have sensitive matters to discuss." She arched an eyebrow, reminding him of his letter delivered by compelled courier.

"That we do," a muscle quivered in his jaw. Through his leather gloves the heat from the cocoa warmed his skin. "Luckily your drink is still hot."

"You remembered," she smiled, taking a sip; the cocoa flooded her senses.

"It's difficult to forget your sweet tooth Freya," the beginning of a fond smile tipped the corners of his mouth. "It's odd; my sister Rebekah drinks her cocoa the same way."

"Really?" Freya sipped her drink to conceal her smile. A dollop of nutmeg dusted snow cream stuck to the tip of her nose.

"She does that too," he regarded her with amusement.

Freya wiped her nose, smiling behind her napkin.

"Did you find a solution?" His expression grew serious.

She composed her features and lowered the napkin. All traces of amusement left her eyes.

"I have been practicing magic since I was three years old," she gripped the handle of her mug. "I've studied every branch from each of the continents and there are no spells to do what you've asked. There are plenty that will do the opposite."

"Unfortunately, that's already been done," his vexation leaked into his voice. "Repeating the process could easily make things worse, placing her in the right place at the right time for Klaus."

"If you wish to keep Klaus from completing the ritual just turn her," Freya tilted her head. "Her blood would become useless to him."

"That's not an option," he snapped, glare drilling into her.

"Why not?" She arched a fine eyebrow.

"Because if he finds out he will hunt her to the ends of the earth, torture her until he grows bored and rip out her heart," his mouth thinned, "then he'll dagger me out of spite."

"You are already risking that by helping her," her lips parted. She tilted her head, considering him and the options before them. "Why not make her like you?"

"That's not an option," his voice lacked its earlier bite. "We lack a key ingredient for that."

"Give me the spell and I will be the judge," she pulled some paper and a fountain pen from her ridicule. "That spell may be impossible, but something similar could be created."

"I won't force that decision on her," he glanced at the pen.

"You're not forcing anything on her," Freya lifted her chin, "you are providing her with viable options; something she didn't have this morning."

"I think she would have preferred the first spell I asked for," he uncapped the pen.

"That's not…"

"An option," Kol finished, "I know."

"You knew before you asked me to look."

---

Homesickness weighed down on her shoulders, anchoring her in the here and now; which only made matters worse since the here and now held no reminders of the life she had always known.

She longed to have one more stupid fight with Jeremy over the remote, or what to have for dinner. Her muscles ached for another sparing match with Alaric to prove she had the strength to defend herself. Her ears were cold without the near constant gossip and teasing of Caroline and Bonnie.

In serious danger of crawling back in bed and never coming out again she reached for a sheet of paper on Kol's desk and resolved to make a list of everything she could go without for a while longer.

1. Klaus and his hybrid agenda.

The first did not count since Klaus existed in 1914 and held the same agenda as in the present. With a jolt she realized that she even missed her Klaus. 2011 Klaus needed her alive.

She scratched it out.

2. Damon, Stefan and their ridiculous tug of war.

They fought over her like a doll threatening to rip her arms from their sockets. Relief lightened her limbs, for a moment her shoulders straightened and she sat tall. As dangerous as her new present was she felt a strange sense of peace in Kol's house where nobody fought over her affections.

3. Being guarded around the clock.

Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week someone watched her: Stefan, Damon, Bonnie, Caroline, Klaus or one of his many hybrids. In 1914 she had Kol, and while he offered protection the desire to keep her safe didn't consume him in an obsessive manner. She had freedom to move about without the constant pressure of eyes on the back of her head.

4. Being the center of attention.

Supernatural life in Mystic Falls revolved around her, but as long as her existence remained a secret she remained nobody, one more face in the crowd. Anonymity tasted like spring water: crisp, clear and clean.

Elena blew a gentle stream of air on the page. She touched the last letters and found the ink dry so she folded the page to look at when she started to feel homesick again.

---

A brisk wind kicked up, stinging her cheeks and upsetting her hat. She reached up and straightened the silk monstrosity. Astrid's insistence had led them to take a much needed break in the crisp air.

"It's futile," she buried her hands in a fur muff, "what we're doing."

"Giving up so soon Astrid?" Mary Alice sighed. Her determination had transformed her into an immovable rock. "The spell is perfect, but we lack a joint focus."

"Perhaps a bigger gem," sarcasm laced her voice, but Mary Alice was deaf to it.

"Where on earth would we find something bigger?" She pressed her lips together. "Large gems are not easy to come by."

"The pair of you seek a gem?"

Together they turned, regarding the woman. A beam of sunlight set her red curls on fire. They shared a look as her lips curled up in a smug smirk.

"You won't believe what I've heard."

---

Elena twisted her heavy curls into a loose chignon at the base of her head and carefully used the hot iron to shape the hair that remained around her face. She managed to finish without causing herself physical harm and slipped the ring back on her finger. With one final appraisal of her appearance she nodded and headed downstairs.

The sound of the door opening made her pause, but her burgeoning smile died on her lips. A shiver surged through her heart, flooding her bloodstream.

"You are not my brother," his eyes assessed her.

Elena drew her hands in front of her body and turned the ring around her finger. His eyes held no sign of recognition, and she repressed a relieved sigh.

"An astute observation," she moved down the stairs, careful to hide her haste. "Did the dress give me away?"

"Where is he?" He chuckled.

"He's gone out."

"And left you in his house," Klaus caught her elbow.

Elena eyed the coat closet just beyond her reach and schooled her features into a smooth mask as she was turned around to face him.

"Who are you?" Klaus held her arm in an iron grip. "What are you in Kol's home?"

"I'm a friend." Emboldened by his confusion she dared to glare at the hand on her arm.

Klaus relinquished his hold and watched her move towards the closet. Her slender arms disappeared into scarlet sleeves.

"I had assumed you to be a 'friend'," he surveyed her with a suggestive tilt to his mouth. "Kol does happen to like pretty little things with sharp tongues."

The blush on her cheeks encouraged him, morphing his smile into a smirk. "You've failed to answer my first question. Who are you?"

His voice lost the brief flicker of amusement.

She swallowed, dropped her eyes to the buttons on her coat and focused on the task.

"Does it matter?"

"Since you are reluctant to answer, yes," he smirked.

He caught her by the elbow again and pushed her up against the wall. The impact knocked over a crystal vase to shatter on the hardwood.

"Why won't you tell me your name?" He tipped up her chin with a finger.

"Because I have no desire to be involved with two Originals," her jaw ticked. "If I tell you my name will you let me go? I'd love to be anywhere but here."

"Has my brother been so cruel as to leave you unsatisfied sweetheart?" His eyes gleamed in the filtered light. "I'll be sure to have words with him, but yes: give me a name and I shall let you go."

"Isobel," she inhaled, sharp and quick. He gave her a look that said he didn't believe her for a moment, but that was fine. He just had to believe the name matched the one she 'gave' Kol. "May I go now?"

He stepped back and she moved to the door, but stopped midstride at the sound of his voice.

"Have we met before? There is something familiar about you."

"I just have one of those faces," she glanced over her shoulder. She was about to race out the door when he called out again.

"Isobel," he smiled, "you've dropped your glove."

She took the leather from his hand and spun on her heel.

---

He doubted the smell would leave his coat without the aid of fire, but the rich scent of pine masked the remnants of sage. Focused on the task at hand he failed to notice the other smell lingering in the foyer.

"Good afternoon, brother."

Tiny hairs rose on the back of his neck.

"It was wonderful until a few seconds ago," he lowered his burden. Leaning back he glanced at the coat closet. There was no sign of scarlet sleeves.

"Isobel is gone," Klaus leaned in the threshold to the living room.

"Who?" Kol cursed himself for the slip. Only one woman could have provided a name.

"No wonder she ran out of here so fast," Klaus chuckled, "you couldn't even be bothered to remember her name."

Kol took a relaxing breath. She had worn her ring. Her identity remained a secret; if Klaus knew there would be a dagger in his hand.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came by to remind you about dinner tomorrow night after mass."

---

It took Kol three hours to locate her and when he finally managed it was by her scent. He paused at the end of the cemetery aisle and watched her peer left and right beneath furrowed brows.

"Isobel, darling," he strode towards her with his hands out, "you raced off."

She started, reached for her throat, but relaxed upon recognizing him.

"I had the misfortune of meeting your brother," Elena's shoulders sagged. "He believes you left me dissatisfied."

Kol took her hands and ran his thumbs over her knuckles.

"I assure you, darling," he winked, "nobody has ever left me and been unsatisfied."

Elena blushed and dropped her eyes to his chest.

Kol gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "Are you alright, darling?"

"I'm fine," she tipped her chin back up. "I thought it best that I make myself scarce. The less time I spend around Klaus the better. What was he doing there?"

"Being an invasive ass," he released her hands and offered his arm. "I assume you were seeking the tomb."

"I was actually looking for the way out," she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Where did you go this morning?"

"I had a meeting with a friend: Freya."

"Did you leave her unsatisfied too?" She quipped.

"She's not provided me the chance," he chuckled. "I think she fancies the ladies."

"Right," Elena murmured with a trace of laughter in her voice, "because that's the only reason a girl wouldn't fall for your charms."

"Precisely," he cast a sideways look at her.

"I haven't," she pointed out.

"Give it time, darling."

His deep voice sent a thrill over her skin.

"Why did you journey to the cemetery, love?" Kol steered her around a corner. The familiar façade of the tomb rose ahead, filling his ears with chants of archaic Latin.

"My feet went on auto-pilot," her hand reached for his arm, covering the exposed portion of her fingers in the crook of his elbow. "I guess I only remember the path to the cemetery; the inside is a labyrinth."

"Yes," Kol held her hand in place. Leaning closer he dipped his head and whispered in a low smooth voice. "Be sure to keep your eyes open for the Minotaur."

"I kind of have my hands full looking out for the hybrid."

"He's not one yet."

"The longer I'm here, the greater my chances are of discovery and the better his odds are of using me to break his curse long before he's meant to."

Kol froze, brining Elena to an abrupt halt. Her blood held a faint trace of fear; he could almost taste it on the air. Their actions, her association with him, held a very real danger for both of them.

"I made you a promise, Elena," he tipped her chin up, cupping her cheek.

"And Klaus walked through the front door today," her teeth sank into her bottom lip. "What if I hadn't put the ring back on after I showered? He killed me once for this spell, Kol, and I don't have a parent to save me this time."

"Klaus will not use you for his ritual," his fingers slid down to circle her neck, thumb rubbing her jaw. "If I could stop what's going to happen to you – what did happen to you – I would do it in a heartbeat."

"Anything to spite your brother, right?" Her lips lifted in a half smile.

"There is that," he chuckled. Her lashes lowered, kissing her cheekbones. "However," her eyes snapped up, "I also happen to enjoy your company. You shouldn't be persecuted because of the family you didn't choose."

"Not to mention the features I never wanted," she licked her lips. "Do you know what it feels like when two other women have worn my face? Since I found out I haven't met anyone who didn't know and or love Katherine first."

"I haven't," he met her sceptical eyes. "Truly, darling, I was in Scotland at the time my family met Katerina or Katherine as you call her."

"You knew Tatia, though," she cocked an eyebrow.

"I knew of her. I saw her around the village," he shook his head, "but I didn't know her. I had no desire to."

"Speaking of undesirable things," her sigh rose from her mouth as a white cloud, "I should go back to the house and get the devil's star. I left it on the nightstand."

"I'm afraid you won't find it on your nightstand, love," Kol reached into his pocket. Paper crinkled in his hand.

"Did you steal my dark object?" She smirked, glancing down. "You know you are safe from death by accidental stabbing…" her voice trailed off as Kol unfolded the paper to reveal nothing but bold lines. "You drew it?"

"No, darling," he guided her hand to the image. "You, in your desire to store the devil's star somewhere is could do no harm, sealed one of my dark objects in paper."

Elena's fingers traced the star, tingling with the same negative energy the metal had held. Her lashes fluttered with the rapid glances between Kol and the page; her voice emerged slow and hesitant.

"This is the…" he nodded, "… I put it here?" She shook her head, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. "I didn't do this. I would have to be a… a… a…"

The initial plan to let her reach the conclusion on her own dissipated when she managed to trap herself in a stammering loop.

"A witch, love," he took her shaking hand.

"I'm a witch?" She licked her lips. "I would know if I were a witch."

"Well," he tilted his head, "technically you're a gypsy, and not a witch."

"What's the difference?" A line appeared between her brows.

"That depends on who you ask."

"I'm asking you," she searched his eyes.

"Aside from where they draw power there isn't one."

"And you've just decided that I'm a gypsy?"

"Actually, your family decided that," he smirked. "You'll recall the family you didn't choose."

She nodded slowly.

"When we first met I was unsure if you shared your family's abilities, but you have done things since then – felt things. Perhaps you've labeled it as a sixth sense, but that tingle beneath your skin is magic."

"Okay," she breathed, biting her bottom lip, "let's say I believe you. How do I get it back out?"

---

Just pull it out, Kol's voice echoed in her head. Freya assures me you need only reach inside and lift it out.

She glared at the page on the desk. Her fingers had pushed against the image enough times that the paper should have torn, but the paper was proving to be indestructible. Part of her was relieved that the devil's star rested where nobody could be harmed by it.

Out of sheer boredom she snatched another sheet of paper and sketched, copying every line until she possessed a perfect drawing of the trapped object.

"Just pull it out," she snorted, reaching blindly for the papers.

Surprise siphoned the blood from her face. Her wide eyes flickered to her hand and the metal star between her fingers. It looked like the devil's star. It weighed the same as the devil's star, but it lacked the feeling of death.

She stared at the page with the crease and the dark object; folding the paper along the line she turned her art project over in her hands.

---

"You've been working on this for over a week," Kol snarled, with no attempt to hide his irritation. Klaus had ventured too close, come too near his secrets; he would never allow his brother to snuff out the light Elena brought. "My family grows more insufferable during the holidays. We need to finish!"

"We've tried everything," Mary Alice placed her hand on Kol's arm, "we need a bigger diamond."

"There is no bigger diamond," he threw off her hand, storming to the cabinet. Freya's rings would maintain the illusion for so long, but he could feel time slipping through his fingers; Klaus needed to be stopped.

"There may be," Mary Alice piped up, eager to please him.

He turned sharply and she straightened her shoulders.

"That gossip Genevieve heard a rumor that the dowager Folly keeps a massive gem hidden inside her mansion."

Kol nodded and she grinned, leaning forward to finish her explanation.

"That's why she never leaves. She's worried someone will steal it."

"She never leaves, you say," Kol turned his gaze to Astrid whose heart pounded.

---

His deep voice startled Elena, breaking up the crackling fire.

"Have you been sitting there since I left?" He rolled up his sleeves.

"It would seem so," she cleared her throat.

"Your dedication has paid off, I see," he nodded to the blade in her hand.

"Sure," she drew out the word and lifted her eyes. The loose fringe of hair over his brow drew her gaze. "It took hours, but I managed to pull this out." She dropped her eyes to the scattered papers on the table. "How are Mary Alice and Astrid? Did they have any luck yet?"

"Not yet," he held out his hand and drew her up from the table towards the hall. "They require a larger diamond."

"Where are you taking me?" Her brows drew together.

"I've a surprise for you," he squeezed her fingers, "and you have managed to keep it so by remaining in the kitchen." He led her through the house and to the living room before stopping and covering her eyes with his hand.

"Kol," she giggled at his antics, "are you gonna show me some massive gem you've acquired?"

"No, darling," he chuckled, "the diamond is in the hands of the dowager Folly." He grasped her free hand and used it to lead her down in the room. "It's in her home: the mansion we passed on the way back from the cemetery today. I shall have to retrieve it."

"How exactly are you planning on getting inside?" She gripped his wrist.

"She leaves once a week for mass, darling," he steered her around a low table. "I'll have words with her tomorrow."

"You go to church?" Elena tripped over her feet.

"Everyone does, darling," he caught her. "I must keep up the illusion of a devoted parishioner."

"Does that mean you're not one?"

"Are you asking if I'm Catholic, darling?" He eyed the way her mouth tilted.

"Everyone believes in something. What do you believe?"

"I have been alive for a long time, Elena, and during the course of my existence I have encountered many religions; each with its own lessons and beads of truth."

"So…"

"Let's just say I believe in something," he sighed, "but I can't say it adheres to any one religion. And you?"

"I was raised Protestant."

"And what is one thing you believe?"

"One thing," she pursed her lips. "I believe that…"

Kol leaned a few inches closer, eyes drawn to her parted lips.

"… That you will let me open my eyes very soon," she teased, tapping the back of his hand with her finger. "I also believe words are unlikely to gain you entry into that woman's house."

"Don't you worry, love, I'll get the gem," he cleared his throat, "now, for your surprise."

He steered her with gentle hands until she faced the corner and lowered her hand from her face.

"Open your eyes, Elena."

Her lashes fluttered and the room came into focus. She gasped and lifted her hand to her throat; in the corner of the room stood a seven foot pine tree.

"I thought you might like to help me decorate tomorrow night," he smiled. "Lord knows I'll need some proper holiday cheer after a family dinner."

"We would need decorations," she chewed her bottom lip in an attempt to temper her smile.

"I have the trimmings, darling, I assure you. Rebekah insisted I decorate last year and keep the ornaments."

"You don't usually decorate?"

"No, but I thought you might like some semblance of normality this holiday season since you miss your family. I thought some of your traditions might make you feel better…"

Her wide eyes bored into him and a sense of unease washed over the back of his neck.

"If I've offended you, darling, I'll remo…" he cut off when her arms closed around his waist.

"Thank you," she whispered, stretching up and kissing his cheek.

His breath caught in his throat. "You're welcome."

Elena pulled back before he could return her hug and spun towards the tree. Her fingers pinched the healthy needs that reminded her of home and hot cocoa, tinsel fights with Jeremy and burnt cookies, caroling with Caroline and spiked eggnog, and now the Original who went out of his way to cheer her up.

He lifted his hand to his tingling jaw where the imprint of her soft lips lingered. He observed her sparkling eyes, excited bounce and bright smile as his pulse raced.

Notes:

I'm having so much fun writing this story. It's inspiring another Kolena story for after this one is finished that will take place after TVD's graduation episode and feature what would have happened if Kol got what he wanted when he found Elena in the cemetery.

Chapter 5

Notes:

I do not own TVD or TO.

I know I've been MIA for a bit, but I'm getting into a bit of a routine again with work. With SAF it's not a lack of inspiration, it's that whenever I go to work on it my brain starts thinking about the sequel to it that takes place in Season 3 and 4 of the Originals, but I have about half of the next chapter for it written though and I'm hoping to have that one posted soon.

1914

---

She stared up at the imposing structure – three stories, Grecian columns, and towering turrets. The dark house bore little resemblance to what she had always considered a cottage to be; where she came from the term brought images of quaint and cozy buildings to mind, buildings filled with happy people and laughing children. The sprawling mansion before her invoked a sense of trepidation – larger than the Boarding house and Kol's home combined. The house would take days to properly search. She possessed the length of a Catholic mass, and being raised Protestant she was unsure how long the service afforded her.

She estimated an hour.

Her time slipped away the longer she stood rooted to the sidewalk, balking at her impossible task.

He had asked what she believed in and after everything she had seen and been through – vampires, werewolves, doppelgangers, hybrids and actual death – she had been unable to provide a true answer. How could she believe in someone who allowed horror to seep into her life?

She wasn't sure what she believed anymore, but she found herself praying for a miracle as she ascended the steps because she knew Kol would never gain an invitation from the dowager.

A length of wire and several spare hair pins weighed a hole in her pocket; she pulled them out with a deep breath and inserted the wire in the lock. She had picked more sophisticated locks than the state of the art 1914 technology before her, and she had done that drunk.

"Shh," Caroline stumbled, giggling, "you're gonna wake the neighbors."

"Then they'll call the Sheriff," Bonnie slurred.

"Are you too drunk to remember the security code?" Elena pushed up the sleeves of Matt's letterman jacket and wiggled the pin to click the last tumbler in place.

"How dare you?" Caroline gasped, full of mock indignation. She threw her unsteady weight into her gasp and stumbled.

"You were too drunk to search for your keys," Bonnie nudged the blonde with her hip.

"I know exactly where my keys are," she huffed, "they're in my locker. Oh…" Caroline clapped her hands; a half formed idea flashed in her unfocused eyes. "Let's go get them…"

Bonnie grabbed her arm, pulling sharply so that both girls stumbled against the porch rail.

"I'm not picking the school lock and getting detention on top of a grounding," Elena twisted the knob.

The door swung inwards.

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. A round table stood in the center of the foyer with a single lamp the dowager had left to light her return. She picked up the lamp and moved towards the stairs, but a cabinet in the parlour caught her eye.

Hoisting the lamp aloft, she approached on silent feet. Her hand slapped over her mouth, stifling her startled shriek. Dozens of dead eyes stared out at her from behind the glass: heads stacked one atop another.

"Creepy," she breathed, making no attempt to hide her shudder. She turned away and prayed the search would not lead her back to the cabinet of doll heads.

Most people she had met kept the items they valued most close to them and locked away, but most people were not paranoid someone would steal into their homes in the dead of night – at least not to the point that they never left.

Her father had always kept his treasured items in the home office; a wall safe contained the Gilbert heirlooms and personal papers of the family. A typical house – mansions included – featured offices and studies on the first floor; she counted several that she knew of while peeking into each open door: the Boarding House, the Lockwood mansion, and Kol's house.

Locating a room full of shelves and a desk she gave a silent cheer, adding the cottage to her list.

The desk drawers slid open with ease and her heart sank, but she persisted in giving each a thorough search. Her efforts were rewarded with a black box; the satin lining revealed a large indent in the shape of a precious gem, but the diamond remained missing.

She replaced everything and checked her watch: twenty-five minutes. Her eyes flickered to the shelves, but she shook her head. A hollowed out book felt too obvious.

With the lamp in hand she oved back toward the parlour, pausing to open boxes and baskets along the path; every container came up empty. At the round table she checked her watch again: fifteen minutes.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to rack her brain for everyone she knew to be paranoid; only three names came up.

Katherine Pierce would have compelled someone to hold the item and plant decoys, or hold it on her person. The first scenario seemed unlikely, and if the second were true Kol would have the gem soon enough.

Klaus too would keep such an item on his person – provided it held no danger to him.

And then there was Damon – Damon who had hidden the moonstone in plain sight with artisanal soaps. Where would he hide a perfect paragon diamond large enough to fit in a decanter?

Her eyes snapped open. A glance at her watch showed twelve minutes as she raced into the parlour.

---

Astrid had thought she knew of chaos and death – the war had brought curse upon curse to the city – but never in her life had she known such needless violence. From the moment Mary-Alice drew her to the other side she had expected it in some way, and now her fears had come to life on a grander scale than she could have ever imagined.

She remained unsurprised, yet her voice stuck in her throat. Her heels clicked over the wooden floors slowly allowing her eyes to roam from one empty face to another as the feeling of horror mounted. Every face built up the rage until it burst forth, fueled by the final sight of a blood splattered pram.

"You're a monster," she jerked against Mary-Alice's hold.

"I didn't know what the dowager looked like," Kol wiped a spot of blood from his thumb. His stomach lurched but his voice came out cloaked in a heavy layer of indifference. "Best just to kill them all."

"You knew she didn't look like the altar boy," Astrid spat.

He hopped down from his perch on the alter, ignoring her outstretched finger. He knew what he would find at the end of her point: crimson stained white silk and unseeing eyes.

"I was parched," he shrugged, catching a glimpse of his blood streaked skin. He would need to clean up; luckily he kept some clothes at the compound. She need never learn of his lost control. "I'm off to a family dinner now. I'll see you later tonight."

He strode around the pair towards the arched doors, but froze in his tracks.

"We are not helping you!"

He spun around to face them. Their hearts stopped when he glowered, but Astrid maintained her determined stance. His eyes cut to Mary-Alice. The blonde relented, addressing her friend over her shoulder.

"We've come this far, Astrid." Her breath caught in her chest when she turned back and Kol grinned before pressing a quick peck to the corner of her mouth.

He vanished into thin air, and she touched the blood clinging to her upper lip.

Mary-Alice cleaned her face with a handkerchief and stared at the stain for a moment while drawing in a slow breath.

"I'll meet you outside the cottage at nine," her voice sounded distant to her ears. Astrid's came from further away. "I have something to take care of."

Astrid waited a few moments before following her friend's path out of the church, but by the time she stood on the steps Mary-Alice was gone and a woman was coming to a stop, bending over the railing to draw in quick breaths.

"Good evening, Elena," her voice sounded hollow.

The brunette's head snapped up as she reached for her left hand with wide eyes.

"Your coat is distinctive," Astrid breathed, descending the stairs.

Elena's shoulders sagged with relief. She straightened up and swallowed. "Have you seen Kol, Astrid? I was hoping to catch him before he went to dinner."

Astrid tilted her head, looking down the last three steps into the doppelganger's bright eyes; Elena bounced on the balls of her feet, practically vibrating.

"The last I saw him he was inside," she jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

"Thanks," Elena's eyes narrowed. There was something unreadable in Astrid's gaze, but she shook off the feeling and hurried inside.

Astrid watched her go, listening for a moment to the reigning silence before making her way down the street.

Inside the chapel Elena paused.

"Kol," she called softly, knowing he would hear her. The smile slid from her lips and the blood drained from her face. She wondered what it said about her life that her first response was not to scream.

She rushed to the first body and sought a pulse. She hurried from body to body in search of anyone still alive. She had no idea what she would do if she located a survivor; medical attention wasn't exactly a phone call away. The only thing she could do was hold their hand, but everyone – all twenty-seven bodies – lacked a heartbeat.

She ripped her bloody gloves off and fell back against the alter. The wood dug into her back. Her fingers tore through her hair knocking her hat from her head and dislodging several pins.

A soft rustle drew her attention to the corner of the room. Loosened tendrils of hair tumbled around her pale face as she climbed to her feet, gloves and hat forgotten.

The pram sat half-hidden behind a column. Blood dripped from the polished wood to the tall wheels.

Her heart thumped.

Holding her breath she inched closer until she heard a second rustle at which point she sprinted the remaining distance and bent over the open basket. Large blue eyes stared back.

---

"What troubles you this evening?" Rebekah scrutinized the brewing storm behind his eyes over the rim of her wine glass.

Silverware clinked. Three sets of eyes locked on his profile, searching for what Rebekah had already noted in his silence and picked over food.

He loathed his baby sister's perceptive nature. He never could lie to her.

Nine hundred years of life – six hundred years of awareness – and he had never hidden anything from Rebekah. Every time she caught him in a lie – as a mischievous child there had been many instances – he always told her the truth and brought her in on the game, but there were some things she could never know; at least not while they sat in present company.

Horrified screams, empty eyes and toppled furniture flashed through his mind; he did what came naturally after centuries of practice and shoved the rising guilt down to be buried with everything else he refused to acknowledge for the sake of his sanity. Then he did something that had never come naturally.

"Nothing," he lied.

"I believe that is the first lie you've ever told me," she cocked an eyebrow and sipped her wine.

"Not still upset about that woman, are you?" Klaus smirked when Kol's jaw ticked.

"I'm certain I will regret asking this," Elijah sighed, "but what woman?"

"I found her in his house yesterday," he grinned. "She ran out of there so fast," his eyes flickered to Kol, "I'm sure that must have been bruising to your ego."

"Did you stop to think she ran from present company," he gritted his teeth, "and not past?"

"Nonsense," Klaus scoffed, "I happen to be delightful company."

Rebekah choked on her wine.

Elijah bit his tongue.

"She was of a different opinion," Kol tilted his head.

"There was something familiar about her," Klaus hummed. "Have I met her somewhere before?" His eyes hardened.

The blood drained from Kol's face.

"No."

"Perhaps I should remedy that –"

"Stay away from her Nik," his tone betrayed his annoyance.

"In case you've forgotten little brother, I don't take orders from you."

"Niklaus," Elijah warned, catching a glimpse of Kol's features.

"Don't fret Elijah," Kol glared, "I will refrain from starting a fight."

"That's unlike you," Rebekah frowned.

"I have a previous engagement," he stood, pushing the chair back with a screech, "and I would hate to be late."

"We'll see you at the Christmas Eve ball?" She twisted in her seat.

"Don't count on it," he murmured and flashed away.

"Well done, Nik," her shoulders slumped, "you've driven him away."

"By all means, sister, chase after your favorite brother," Klaus snatched up his wine glass.

---

Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away…

Kol pushed open the iron gate and stepped through, pausing to watch the firelight flicker over the faces of the Christmas carolers. The small group paid him little mind in favour of the bonfire and their song.

… Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold…

Mary-Alice fixed the head of a porcelain doll to the fence post and murmured a spell under her breath, sealing the house against the unwanted visitors.

… ding dong ding dong, that is their song, with joyful ring, all caroling…

Kol moved up the path as the music continued behind him, following him over the porch and to the door where he paused. His brows drew together as he caught the lingering scent too faint to properly identify.

The door swung inwards to reveal Astrid. He shook away the feeling and stepped over the threshold. Pulling off his gloves he tucked them in his pocket and accepted a Gaslamp from a smiling Astrid.

"Alright, darling, you know what to look for."

He watched the witches take off in opposite directions before following the light floral scent through the entry to a glass cabinet. The gas lamp reflected off the empty eyes of several dozen disembodied doll heads.

"Creepy," he muttered, opening the cabinet. Heads rolled over the hardwood as he tore the cabinet apart before moving on.

The parlour held five jewelry boxes; he emptied them all and kept one ear on what was happening through the house. Mary-Alice and Astrid made no attempt to keep their actions silent, nearly drowning out the music on the street.

… on on they send, on without end, their joyful tone, to every home…

He caught sight of the bar from the corner of his eye; the promise of a stiff drink called to him and he abandoned the wicker box in his hand. He held out the lamp to examine the liquor on offer: bourbon, scotch, wine.

Rainbows reflected on the wall.

He froze, staring at the effect. Lowering the lamp he tilted his head and picked up a bottle stopper, peering at the sparkling interior of the stone; it glinted grey and white.

"You sly old bat," he smiled. His grin turned to a smirk when Mary-Alice and Astrid stepped into the room. "Clean up. Meet me at the cemetery. This little beauty and I have a date with a dagger."

He didn't wait for a response before fleeing the house.

"He's such a fiend," Astrid seethed. She surveyed the damage with narrowed eyes.

"He is," Mary-Alice agreed, "but so am I." She toyed with the bottles on the bar. "I spelled the door to his clubhouse shut. If he wants his precious dagger back he'll need a Claire witch to open the door."

Astrid spun to face her friend with a line between her brows.

"All this time I thought you were blinded by your lust for him."

"I know what you thought," she snapped.

"This doesn't have anything to do with-"

"No," the reply came too fast to be convincing. "Come," she took a deep breath and plastered on a smile, "let's explain to him that if he wants his dagger back he'll have to start acting with a little decorum."

---

Kol paused outside the cottage, listening to the sudden silence. The absence of carolers set him on edge but he didn't know why until he passed through the gates and his arms were taken.

"You're looking very dapper this evening Kol," Klaus grinned, "I don't believe I mentioned that earlier."

"Though, gloves without a tailcoat?" Marcel hummed. "Unusual, wouldn't you agree Klaus?"

"I would," Klaus nodded. He paused and held up a finger. "Unless, of course the gloves are utilitarian in nature…"

"I didn't realize you lovebirds were so interested in fashion," Kol sighed.

"I can take it or leave it," Klaus shrugged. His lips curled in a slow smirk.

"Did you follow me brother?"

"It's always best to know where the hurricane is brewing, but no, I did not. The mayor came to me concerned about the rash of thefts in the city, so I put Marcel on it…"

"After a little digging, and a little compulsion, I formed a theory, so I had my informants follow out suspect…"

"And he led them here, to the mansion of the Dowager Fauline – who rumour has it met a grisly end earlier this evening. You know," Klaus met his brother's eyes, "she's famous for her collection of rare and priceless jewels. Most notably, of course," he reached into Kol's pocket, "the perfect paragon diamond."

The jewel glinted in the moonlight. Klaus nodded to a nearby woman in black who began chanting over the doll's head.

"I don't know what your plan was, but I wouldn't bother waiting for them," Klaus smirked over his shoulder at the mansion, "they will never leave that house again."

---

She sat cross-legged before the tree with a needle in one hand and two bowls at her knees. Every few seconds the sturdy weight between her legs would shift, forcing her to lower her garland with a deep sigh that lacked any true exasperation or malice.

"If you keep this up, my cranberry to popcorn ratio is going to be skewed."

A cranberry disappeared from the bowl.

"I suppose you're right," she sighed. "A whole lot of popcorn with cranberries throwing in for colour is nice too," a second berry vanished, "but you've got to leave me some berries."

A third berry fell against the floor, rolling under the tree. The weight between her legs lurched after it, vanishing beneath the greenery.

She giggled, placed the half-finished garland on a nearby table and lowered herself onto her stomach. Reaching under the tree she snatched the choking hazard and placed it on the table. She prepared to reach beneath the branches again, but was stopped by a slamming door. The branches rustled but there were no signs of distress from under the tree so she sat up in time for Kol to storm in.

He had replaced the crystal vase Klaus had broken with one of porcelain and it toppled from the table as he strode into the parlour.

She cringed, glancing at the tree.

"Damn him," he seethed, kicking over an end table.

"Problem?" Elena slid onto her belly. "Was dinner lacking in holiday cheer? Or is it mass that's set you off."

In his rage he missed her biting tone. He paced in front of the fire, attempting to stifle the urge to tear the room apart with his bare hands.

"Kol," she prompted, stretching her arms under the tree.

"I went to the cottage," he curled his fingers into fists. "Niklaus followed me."

"Naturally," she murmured, "likely exercising his power as an invasive ass."

His mouth quirked up in a wry smile, but his humor faded.

"That invasive ass took the diamond," his voice dropped to a growl, "and had one of his witches manipulate Mary-Alice's boundary spell. He turned the cottage into an inescapable prison. I have no diamond, no witches, and no way of protecting you!"

"What about – what was her name – the woman who made the rings?" She slid forward on her stomach, but her fingers came up short.

"Freya left town this morning and will not return for a week," he shook his head, "and even if she were here, Kemiya requires two witches; I shall have to start at the beginning."

"So, what you're saying is you have no witches, no gem, and no dagger…"

"I have a dagger!"

"Mary-Alice sealed the tomb with some kind of blood spell," Elena nudged the sofa with her toes. Her foot brushed Kol's leg when he moved to pick up the short note. "I don't know why she sent that to me."

His eyes scanned the page, heart beating faster with each penned word.

"No witches, no diamond, no dagger," she continued, "and twenty-seven people dead for no reason."

He stiffened, focusing his gaze on the back of her head. His voice emerged in a whisper.

"You went to St. Anne's?"

"You mean the site where you massacred over two dozen people – including the altar boy?" She pushed up on her hands, twisting to glare at him.

Her head barely reached his knees, but her eyes managed to make his heart clench.

"You were never meant to see that," he twisted the letter in his hands.

"And that makes it alright?" She struggled to maintain her anger in a low voice.

"Yes," he threw up his hands, "no," he groaned. Ignoring her wide eyes he fell to sit on the sofa next to her and ran his hands over his head to grasp the back of his neck. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Her voice cracked. "Twenty-seven people are dead and you don't know?"

"I had to kill the dowager," he propped his elbows on his knees and brought his hands together. "It was the only way to gain access to her home. She needed to die…"

"Twenty seven dead," Elena whispered, blinking back tears, "including the altar boy."

"I didn't know what she looked like," he swallowed, "and once I started…" His gaze dropped to his joined hands. "I never learned control Elena," he met her eyes again, "I was so angry after turning that I didn't want to… until tonight. I told myself I would only kill the woman old enough to be her, but then the bloodlust took hold of me…"

"You could have waited," she whispered the words, "come up with a better plan… saved innocent people from losing their lives."

He shook his head, exhaling sharply.

"It couldn't wait, love, Klaus came too close to discovering you. Eventually Freya's glamour will wear off completely and when it does nothing will stop him. The dagger is locked away, the diamond resides in my brother's care, and even if I had both it would take months – time we do not possess – to train witches in the art."

"You could have waited," she snapped, "for an alternate solution."

Her grey skirt reached nearly to her ankles and boasted deep pockets hidden in the pleats; she rummaged in one for a moment and then slapped a folded sheet of heavy paper in his hand.

He cast a questioning glance at her as he unfolded the page to reveal a sketch of a paragon diamond. He tilted his head, scrutinized the image and came to the conclusion that the picture was a perfect copy of what he had recently held in his hands.

"You drew it?" He cocked a heavy brow.

"Nope," she popped the 'p'. Her eyes flickered to the page. "I did not draw that, but as it turns out I can make a very convincing…" she drew her hand from her other pocket, burying the sharp point of the star into his palm, "… copies."

He grunted when the blade pierced his flesh. Putting down the paper he pulled the devil's star free and watched the single cut knit itself back together before he sought out her eyes.

"You didn't find the diamond," she licked her bottom lip, "and Klaus doesn't possess it, I do," she held out her hand for the page.

"This is the diamond?"

"Yes."

"Klaus has a copy?"

"Yes."

"So, technically, I possess it?" He smirked.

"I'd love to see you take it out," she scoffed. A trace of amusement flashed in her eyes.

"Very well, darling," he chuckled, "you possess it."

"That's right," she tucked the page away, "finders-keepers applies in this situation; at least until everything else falls into place."

He examined her smooth features with narrow eyes.

She saw his gaze and frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing," he sighed, "you're just taking this mass murder rather well."

"I'm not taking it well," she gripped her skirt. "People are dead because you couldn't control your bloodlust. How many innocent people have died because you couldn't control your bloodlust? Do you know the number after nine hundred years? Did you ever count?"

"I know the exact number of bodies left in my wake, Elena. I remember every face, every lost life. I assure you darling that in another nine hundred years I will remember the night I killed everyone in that church."

She searched his earnest gaze for a long moment before her eyes were drawn to the rustling branches of the tree. She released a breath as something small thumped on the hardwood.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Kol's eyes narrowed. His mouth twisted into a frown as Elena spun around and lay out on her stomach to poke her head under the tree again.

She shimmied forward a few inches and his eyes traced the length of her spine, admiring the drape of her skirt. She wiggled enticingly as she moved into place and gave a tiny grunt of exertion. He had to admit he enjoyed the sounds she was making, but then a second sound came from under the branches: a high pitched giggle.

The laughter swelled as Elena backed up, shifting onto her knees.

His eyes grew round and for a split second he forgot how to breathe as curious blue eyes turned on him.

"What is that?" His eyes flicked to Elena.

"You missed one," she swallowed, cradling the small baby to her chest. "I know you're old, and that it's probably been awhile, but you should be able to recognize a baby."

The boy regarded Kol with nothing but curiosity in his eyes and he had yet to scream blood murder; those coupled facts told Elena her suspicions were likely correct.

"It seems he slept through the entire ordeal," she bounced the baby gently before setting him on wobbly legs.

"And you brought him here?" Kol backed up an inch when the baby reached for him. "Why?"

"Was I supposed to leave him there, surrounded by the dead?" She chewed her bottom lip. "I couldn't do that. I brought him here until I could find his family."

"Klaus thought you looked familiar," he listened to her pounding heart, "it's only a matter of time before the glamour wears off completely, if it hasn't already."

"I can't go outside," her breath shook. House arrest, again.

"Not until the glamour can be renewed," he shook his head, "and as I've said Freya will be gone for a bit."

Elena nodded and took a deep breath. Her eyes shifted back to Kol. "I guess that means you'll have to do it," she got to her feet, balancing the boy on her hip. "Let's call it your penance."

She headed to the door, pausing when he called out.

"If he has no family?"

Elena turned her eyes to the baby. He had stuck two fingers in his mouth. She watched him for a second and then glanced back over her shoulder. A lump formed in her throat.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

---

2011

---

"There's no chance I can talk you in to staying, is there?"

Elena paused on the sidewalk. She pivoted on her heel and came to face him with a playful smile on her lips. Her eyes twinkled.

"You are nearly a hundred years old. Do you really want your old mom hanging around?" She held his elbows in the same way she had as a child; the only difference being that she didn't have to kneel down to his level anymore.

"I've missed you," Thierry shrugged, "Marcel has too, even if won't admit it. I just have to prepare myself for when we get to the end of the street and you leave New Orleans."

"If you want I could stay; it would piss Klaus off enough that he would probably come looking for me." She tilted her head, releasing his arms to clap her hands together. "I could stay and show your lovely girlfriend you baby pictures; tell her about the time when you were three and refused to take a bath. Do you remember? You went running out the front door completely naked."

"You know what," he spun her around by her shoulders, "on second thought; you've been waiting almost a hundred years for this. I'd hate to take that away from you."

Elena laughed as they came up on Caroline and Bonnie where they leaned against the car. Caroline flashed a cheeky grin.

"So this street you lived on… was it crowded?"

"I forgot you were a vampire," Thierry muttered.

"Very," Elena grinned, "and it was right about the time people were returning from work."

"Mom!"

"Sorry, sweetie," Elena giggled.

"Why do I get the feeling that this car ride will be filled with embarrassing stories about me?" He crossed his arms.

"Mothers brag about their kids," Elena smiled. She stood on tip toe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I know it's been eighteen years, but that's no excuse for not calling your mother."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll text you every day and call as often as I can," he promised, "I love you, mom."

"I love you, too," Elena adjusted her purse. She took the second bag from Thierry and loaded her things in the trunk. With one last goodbye she climbed in the car.

 

Notes:

What did you think?

What was your favorite part or line from this chapter? Predictions for the next one? Will Elena succeed in staying hidden from Klaus?

Chapter 6

2011

---

The sun dipped below the horizon, taking with it the final streaks of violet and orange and staining the air with the indigo that came only at twilight, and for one long moment the world was at peace.

Elena loved twilight. She adored the quiet moments when everything went quiet and everyone stilled caught up in the evening haze.

It never lasted.

Twilight always gave way, relenting to the darkness of night and the witching hour, but those quiet moments were appreciated more when the supernatural world emerged in full force. In those mystical moments she had held her infant son as he would succumb to sleep, New Orleans and its chaos and tensions were put on mute, and in her more recent years twilight was the only time of day she dared to look at the picture.

She hooked the chain with her thumbs and pulled the necklace over her head, resting the oval locket in her palm.

"You two are oddly quiet," she slipped her thumb nail between the seam, popping the latch.

Caroline started, jerking and catching her breath. The car lurched to the right but was quickly righted with Bonnie's startled shriek. The blonde's shoulders tensed as she apologized profusely while glancing in the rear view mirror at the young witch.

"Sorry," Elena's eyes darted to Bonnie as she grimaced. "That was my fault," she turned to Caroline, "I startled you. What were you thinking about so intensely?"

"Seriously?" Caroline muttered, taking her eyes off the road to cast Elena a quick glare.

The unexpected display of anger had her brow lowering and a tight feeling beginning in her chest.

"In the last twelve hours you've gone from meek, human Elena, to a hundred year old badass Original," Caroline continued to glare, this time at the road. "You've compelled a vampire, terrorized a few dozen more, upstaged New Orleans big kahuna, revealed a son, and now you're walking into an altercation with Klaus. He's going to be livid."

"It's not like he can kill me," she shrugged. "He can't hurt me Care, and if he hurts anyone else I love there will be hell to pay."

"You're an Original," Bonnie leaned forward, tilting her head, "he could put a dagger in you."

"He can try," her lips curled up in a dark smirk.

"You're running headfirst into danger over a guy," Caroline shook her head in utter disbelief. "What happened to you and Stefan? He's your epic love."

"Stefan was a love," she sighed, "but ultimately we weren't right for each other, and anyway," she gave her friend a pointed look, "we broke up in June."

"So you're jumping into love with a new guy – Klaus' brother of all people. You know rebounds never end well."

"I'm not jumping into anything Care," Elena rolled her eyes; "I haven't been with Stefan in over a century." She leaned back and sighed. "And I never said I was in love with Kol."

"Are you saying you're not?" Bonnie crossed her arms. "You've admitted to looking for him. You said you kept his picture hidden to protect it from sunlight," she lowered her eyes, nodding to the locket; "you were wearing it around your neck."

"You might not be in love with him," Caroline pulled into a service station for gas, "but you've definitely got feelings."

Elena's mouth popped open but no sound came out.

Caroline smirked.

"He's an Original," Bonnie whispered. Her tone held a note of warning.

Elena twisted to meet Bonnie's eyes.

"So am I," she cocked an eyebrow.

"You're not like them," Bonnie shook her head, "not like him."

"You don't even know him, Bon," her eyes narrowed. The temperature in the car rose.

Caroline glanced sideways between her silent friends and hurried to cut in before Bonnie could add to the growing tension with the single question she knew was on the tip of her tongue: 'do I even know you?'

"I'm pretty sure you promised us a picture," Caroline held out her hand.

Elena blinked a few times and shifted back, clearing her throat. She opened the locket with gentle fingers and passed it to Caroline.

Bonnie scrutinized her friend's hands, ears and throat as she observed the suddenly apparent lack of jewelry; Elena wore only the pyrite ring.

"You're not wearing a daylight amulet," Bonnie's brows shot up. She berated herself for not noticing sooner.

"She's an Original," Caroline tilted the small photograph towards the window, remembering at the last moment to keep it from the light, "She won't burn."

"But the Originals still wear daylight rings," Bonnie sighed, "every one of them except for Klaus has one, so where is yours?"

"I don't have one," Elena shrugged. "I never needed one, which will be good for remaining anonymous for a few days in Mystic Falls."

"Why don't you need one?" Caroline frowned.

"Let's just say I have more in common with Klaus than his siblings," Elena smirked.

"Are you saying you're a hybrid?" Caroline tilted her head.

"You're not a werewolf," Bonnie unfastened her seatbelt.

"No," Elena glanced into the backseat, "I am one of a kind, and more than happy to stay that way." She reached into her purse for a thick leather bound book. "For the time being I'd like most people to see me as human…" she flipped through the pages, stopping when she found a drawing of a charm bracelet. She glanced up to their narrowed eyes. "I don't mean either of you, and I'm gonna tell Jeremy and Ric, but Klaus and anyone who might mention it to Klaus can't know yet."

"Other vampires," Caroline licked her lip. "How are you gonna hide it? You're scent…"

"I've got that figured out," Elena smiled. She lifted her hand from the blank page so they could see the dangling bracelet before she fastened it around her wrist. "Smell me."

Caroline frowned, but leaned forward to comply. She sniffed at her friend, delicately and felt her eyes grow round.

"That's amazing, but… wasn't that a drawing a second ago?"

"I said I had more in common with Klaus, but we're not exactly alike," Elena grinned. She closed her book. "Every page holds something different, and I'll admit it's a little chaotic in terms of organization, but they take up less room this way." She waved the book before putting it away and fixing Caroline with an amused look. "Am I gonna get my locket back?"

"After I get a good look," Caroline turned her gaze to the small picture. A deep sigh escaped her lips when she saw the old photograph. "Why is it when a hot guy holds a baby he looks ten times hotter?"

"He's holding a baby?" Bonnie shifted until she was wedged between the front seats.

"It's one of the laws of the universe," Elena shrugged. The picture swam in her mind's eye with sharper colours than the sepia image; the tiny hands he held were pink, the tiny shoes that helped Thierry stand steady were navy blue, and Kol's laughing eyes were the deepest of browns.

"He didn't know I was taking the picture until it was done, then he took the negative," she smiled a wistful smile. "He said he had a reputation to uphold and that nobody could ever see it."

"You're showing us though," Caroline passed the antique necklace back.

Elena stared at the photo with reddening eyes. "He gave me the locket for Christmas," she blinked, fastening the chain around her neck, "he had put the picture inside."

She took a shuddering breath and exhaled, reaching for the door handle.

"I think I'll stretch my legs before we leave."

---

1914

---

Dark circles ringed the space beneath her eyes; they shadowed the lively brown, betraying her sleepless night. She gazed at the culprit as he began to stir; his features held an angelic innocence, but she had seen beneath the surface.

She couldn't exactly blame him though. It was hardly his fault he had turned into the creature from the black lagoon at bed time; like most children the adventure should have ended, but for him it never would. He was perhaps a year old, off his routine and missing his mother and father.

Every hour or so he would wake up and cry. The only thing that had stopped the screaming was being held by her. Singing to him had reduced the tears to sniffles and eventually he would fall asleep only to wake up again and restart the process.

She took a moment to revel in the silence. The quiet stillness washed over her, weighing down her eyelids. Her heartrate slowed as her breathing leveled out, but before she could fall asleep where she sat his blue eyes fluttered open.

His mouth stretched wide in an adorable yawn. He blinked at his surroundings and rubbed his eyes with two small fists.

She picked him up when he reached and went about her newest routine. She rubbed his back, kissed the top of his head and moved to the desk she had converted into a makeshift changing table. Her hands went through the motions of changing the cloth diaper.

She dropped the soiled cloth in the woven basket at her feet and made a note to do the laundry if she managed to get him down for a nap; there hadn't been a ton of supplies in the baby carriage and she couldn't exactly go out and buy more. Her mind briefly wandered to the ease of the twenty-first century, but she snapped back to reality when she reached for a clean cloth.

The stack sat higher than it had the previous time she had changed him. She stared at it, uncomprehending, before twisting to the other side and staring at the empty basket that she knew had been half-full with soiled cloth.

Her charge let out an indignant little huff and kicked his legs in the air, bringing Elena back to her task.

"Alright, alright," she cooed, "I get it. You don't like being exposed." She finished up and hurried downstairs to the kitchen where she paused in the open door and took in the scene.

Kol stood at the counter with his sleeves rolled up breaking tiny bits of egg and bacon into bite-sized pieces – child sized pieces.

She have might been embarrassed to be caught staring, but she was too tired.

"Good morning," he caught her eyes and held her gaze. "I trust you had a good night sleep," sarcasm dripped from his tongue.

"Excellent," she adjusted his weight, "I slept like a baby."

"You woke every hour crying then," he held out a steaming mug.

"I never cried," she sipped the rich coffee, praying for the caffeine to kick in; she needed a strong jolt to survive the next few hours.

He gave her a look, examining the shadows under her heavy eyes. He doubted she could consent to gaining extra sleep now that the baby was awake.

Elena followed him to the table and sat, balancing the boy on her knee. She flattened one hand on his stomach to keep him in place and glanced out the window into the bright courtyard, drawing in a deep breath.

Birdsong filtered through the panes of glass. The cheerful sounds continued either oblivious to the previous evening's horror, or in bold defiance of it.

She found Kol's eyes on her when she turned back to the table that she suddenly noted was set with three plates instead of the usual two.

"Were you in my room last night?" She tested the temperature of the food. Judging it to be cool enough she slid the plate forward and offered a small piece of scrambled egg; tiny fingers claimed it and a second later he tucked into the breakfast, babbling between bites.

"I may have popped in around four in the morning," he took a bite of his eggs and chewed, glancing down at the baby. "I heard whimpering when I got back, so I checked in. You were sound asleep so I tidied up and left."

"Oh," she nodded, numbly, "thank you. You didn't have to do that though. I was going to tidy up later." She glanced down at the baby and found him staring at Kol, and Kol for his part was doing his best not to let his gaze linger on the child. "He must have gone right back to sleep."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because he woke me up every hour or so," she glanced at the clock, "the last four hours were the longest stint."

Kol took a sip of his coffee and glanced down at the boy who was reaching a grubby hand towards him; thankfully babies couldn't speak.

"You went out?"

Her voice startled him. He cleared his throat and nodded, setting down the mug.

"Yes," he reached into his pocket, "after you went to bed I returned to Saint Anne's." He unfolded a heavy sheet of paper and stared at the neat lines of ink.

He was silent for so long Elena thought he was going to leave it at that, but then he spoke in a voice so quiet she would have labeled it as hesitant.

"It's one of the smaller parishes. I spent the midnight hours combing through the records."

"What did you find?" Elena wiped the baby's hands with a napkin.

"There were six children born around the right time; two of them were girls." He scanned the list of names and their next of kin, and skipped over the first. "Is he old enough to recognize his name?"

"I've taken care of younger babies who knew their names," Elena bounced him on her knee. "This little one," she lifted him to stand on her legs, "is just about ready to start walking. If he's old enough for that he's old enough to know his name. What names did you find? There's not two of one is there?"

"No," he chuckled and glanced down, picking the second name: "Samuel."

There was no response.

Elena tilted her head, pursing her lips. "Maybe a nickname?"

"Sam?" Kol watched him gnaw on his fingers. "Sammy?" He sighed. "I guess it was too much to hope for the boy with both sets of grandparents living."

"Keep going," she bit back a laugh.

"Henry," he cleared his throat, referring to his list.

Elena repeated the name, bouncing him slightly. There was no response as she shook her head. The third name garnered the same reaction and she looked up in time to see something flash in Kol's eyes; her heart fluttered.

"What's wrong?" She turned the baby around and felt two tiny fists curl in her hair where it hung loose over her shoulders. "Why so reluctant to say the fourth?"

She rubbed one hand over the baby's back and counted the even breaths.

He inhaled and stared down at the paper until the only thing he could see was the first name on the list, forming the bridge they had to cross. In spite of her sleepless night he doubted she would elect to place the by in an orphanage; such arrangements rarely worked out.

"Kol," she broke him from his reverie, "what's the last name?"

"Thierry," he sighed. A shill settled over him as large blue eyes turned to him.

"Thierry?" Elena questioned.

The baby turned his attention back to Elena. His eyes moved from one adult to another each time his name was said.

"Thierry," Kol nodded, both encouraged and dejected by the boy's reaction and happy babbling, "Vanchure."

"Any family," she tilted her head, "I'm guessing no, and that's why you didn't want to say his name."

"Apparently I am easy to read," he lowered the paper and his eyes.

Thierry chose that moment to wiggle in Elena's arms and point towards the floor. She eased him down on his feet and he curled his toes, squealing at the cold sensation. He clung to her skirt for a moment, lifting one wobbly leg but then he changed his mind and dropped down on his knees.

Elena watched the start of his adventure before shifting her eyes to Kol and finding the Original watching the baby boy he had orphaned.

She glanced at the paper, slack in his hands. Line after line revealed several dozen names written in neat rows. She recognized his writing, it appeared far more neat than she had ever seen it as though he had spent hours painstakingly forming the letters after combing through pages of parish files. Nothing had been sorted, the outlook for the baby was actually bleaker, but he had done it.

"Thank you," she ran her finger around the rim of her mug.

He tore his eyes from where Thierry was crawling near the cupboards. A line appeared between his brows. "What for?"

"Looking," she shrugged, nodding to the paper.

"You told me to?"

"Yeah, but…" she leaned back in her chair and met his eyes. A bemused smile played over her lips. "I just… I didn't expect you to actually listen to me."

"Yes," he chuckled, "well, you were…" he tilted his head, struggling to push out the word. "You were right," he sighed, "I acted rashly when I should have waited and former a better plan."

She tilted her head, biting down on her lip to hide her smirk.

"Was that painful to say? I get the distinct feeling you don't admit you were wrong often." She tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Don't get used to hearing it, darling," his smirk didn't quite reach his eyes. "Enjoy it while it lasts. You will only hear me admit to being a monster once."

On the other side of the kitchen Thierry tugged open a kitchen cabinet.

"You're not a monster, Kol," Elena glanced towards the counter. She looked back when she was sure Thierry wasn't into anything he shouldn't be.

"You hardly know me," Kol leaned across the table, meeting her eyes.

"I know enough," she shifted, crossing her arms on the table, "and I'm learning a bit more every day, but I've never thought you were a monster."

"You say that with such certainty," he scoffed, looking away. The conviction in her eyes was stronger than any he had seen.

"Because you're not one," she reached across the table, covering the back of his hand with her palm. A prickling sensation traveled the length of her arm, carrying the weight of his emotions. "A monster would have killed me the moment we met."

"I still could," he chuckled, cocking an eyebrow. He met her laughing eyes and the air stilled in his chest.

"I know you could," she whispered without a trace of fear, "but I doubt you would." She went to check on the baby but found her gaze trapped as she was held in place with his eyes. She breathed the next words, afraid to break the sudden spell around them. "Do you have any suggestions for Thierry? I don't want to go back to the future without knowing he's okay."

Something passed behind his eyes that puzzled her. She followed him when he opened his mouth and leaned a little closer.

"Elena…" he began and paused, scrambling for the final confession he had to make because it was something he never should have hidden from her.

"Yes?" She whispered the prompt. Her eyes flickered from him uncertain gaze to his parted lips, but before he could make another sound there came a loud clang.

Their heads snapped towards the kitchen counter. A moment passed where they exchanged a quick glance before bolting away from the table.

Elena's heart leapt into her throat, only dropping when she saw the mess of clean mixing bowls on the floor with Thierry in the middle of the chaos slapping an overturned bowl to make a hollow thumping sound.

He froze when they stared down at them with one hand up in the air ready to strike.

Elena glanced at Kol, trying to gauge his reaction. She was unsure what to think when he opened a drawer and examined the contents before selecting a wooden spoon and a metal whisk. She watched as he got down on the kitchen floor.

"You might try one of these instead," he held out the utensils.

Thierry stared, fascinated by the looping metal of the whisk. He reached out and turned it over in his little hands.

Kol flipped over a few bowls of varying sizes and guided Thierry's hand, showing him how to use the whisk to hit the bottom of the bowls.

Elena adjusted her skirt and sat on the opposite side of Thierry, blushing when Kol caught her staring.

"What?" He cocked an eyebrow while providing accompaniment with the spoon.

"It's nothing," she shrugged. "I just didn't realize you were so good with kids. You looked at him last night like you thought he was gonna bite you."

"It was the other way around, actually," his humourless laugh only increased Elena's confusion and his own. "I had just slaughtered twenty-seven people. The thought must have crossed your mind."

Elena resisted the fleeting urge to snatch the baby into her arms. Kol had spent hours hunting for the boy's family; if her were the monster he thought himself to be he could have killed Thierry on the spot – just as he would have killed her.

"I never thought that," she shook her head, "not until just now, and that's only because you brought it up." He tilted his head as if listening for a tremor in her voice. "I don't think you're going to hurt him."

He met her dark eyes and she frowned, but after a moment he nodded.

"You believe me," Elena chewed her bottom lip, "just like that?"

"Yes," he picked up the fallen whisk, returning it to Thierry, "your heart jumps when you're dishonest."

"Oh," she nodded. Her fingers curled around Thierry's wrists so she could gently steer him to a different bowl. "Is that unique to me, or…?"

"Everybody," he chuckled. "Vampires have the ability to hear that skip."

"That ability sounds nice," her hands smoothed over her skirt.

"Do people lie to you often?"

"All the time," she shrugged. "Sometimes I think I can tell, but most of the time I'm not sure…" she lowered her eyes to watch Thierry, "… like with you."

The spoon clattered on the floor.

"Me?" He looked up sharply; in his chest he felt his heart race.

"You," she nodded, oblivious to the pounding organ. "You're hiding something from me; I just don't know what it is."

"I'm not hiding anything."

"You're lying," she lifted her chin, finally meeting his eyes.

"Are you sure you can't hear my heart?" The question drew a small laugh from Elena. "It's not that I want to hide this from you. I just don't know how to tell you."

"Will you tell me eventually?" She tilted her head. "When you figure out how to say it, will you tell me?"

"Yes," he held her gaze.

They sat there for a moment, the only sound Thierry's unsteady drumming. Just when Kol thought the silence would succeed in doing what his father never could she gave him a shallow nod and a soft smile.

"Okay."

---

She paused at the edge of the walk and worried her bottom lip. Typically he required a minimum of twenty-four hours to calm down enough and talk to her; if they were lucky he would return to the family dynamic within the week.

She doubted they would be lucky.

His reaction to Klaus' line of questioning and ill-advised ribbing had told all of them that something more was going on. Klaus believed his outburst was a result of whatever plan he had concocted that involved the massive diamond Klaus had laid claim to the previous night.

She knew better.

She recognized the stance he had taken. She knew that for once the root of his anger resided on the surface. For once he meant what he said, and it was possible the diamond played a part, but it all boiled down to her.

'Isobel' was what had set him off.

She counted to three and started toward the house. Her steps faltered. Her eyes sought out the flash of colour in the upstairs window. Pale blue silk poked out from beneath a curtain of glossy brown curls. She caught the briefest flash of features, but didn't have time to properly catalogue them before the woman vanished from view.

---

"Where are you going?" She pushed her hair over her shoulder, turning away from the window. Her skin cooled rapidly once she stepped out of the winter sun.

He gave no response and rounded the corner.

Elena followed, not trusting the safety of the house for an infant. She watched him crawl around and locate the tiny teddy bear she had taken from the carriage.

She squatted, grabbing him under the arms and setting him on his wobbling feet. She held one of his hands, but he refused to give her the other one. A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

"Can you walk with just one of my hands?"

He took a tiny step forward and stumbled, scowling at his feet. He lifted his other hand; the teddy swung around.

Elena caught his hand in a way that let the bear hang between them. She giggled when Thierry laughed and tipped his head back to look at her.

"Come on then," she smiled, "let's show your friend around."

She stayed bent at the waist and wandered around the room. In the distance she thought she heard the soft click of a door and rejoiced in the knowledge that Kol had cooled down again, but she was willing to admit that he could be acting calm for the benefit of Thierry; he had quieted quickly when she dragged the baby out from under the Christmas tree.

"Should we go decorate?" Elena lifted him by his arms so he dangled over the floor for a few seconds. "Or do you want to walk around the study some more?"

"Dow'," Thierry kicked his feet, giggling.

Elena complied. They went five more steps before he came to an abrupt halt; he tugged one small hand free and pointed in front of them after a swift wind blew through the hall; it took her a second to realize he was waving, but when the quiet 'hi' slipped out she understood.

A slow smile began as she lifted her eyes from Thierry, but it fell away the higher her gaze traveled. She saw black shoes with a low heel and her breath caught, a flared green skirt and her heart stuttered, and by the time she made it to the startled blue eyes it was all she could do to bite down her horrified whisper and turn it into a rush of breath.

 

Notes:

What did you think?

What was your favorite part or line from this chapter? Predictions for the next one? Will Elena succeed in staying hidden from Klaus?

Elena returns to Mystic Falls in the next chapter. I'm thinking she has to get Caroline to sneak into her house and wake up Jeremy to invite her inside.

Chapter 7

Notes:

I do not own TVD or TO.

I'm sorry for the delay's. I got caught up in planning out the plot for an upcoming Harry Potter/Vampire Diaries Crossover, and just found the time to sit down and write out this chapter I've had plotted for weeks.

 

2011

---

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, biting harder and harder until her pulse slammed beneath her bite. Her finger hooked the chain under her chin, rubbing the length of silver until numbness tickled her flesh. Her heart raced in time with her jiggling foot; all were nervous habits that a century of life had failed to eradicate.

"You're shaking my car," Caroline pulled up by the house. She stopped the vehicle and turned to her friend. "What's got you all worked up?"

Elena held up one hand for silence, closed her eyes and tilted her head. Few sounds broke up the dead of night, but beyond the crickets and distant rock music she heard a thrumming heartbeat too fast to be human. A glance in the side mirror illuminated a flash of yellow eyes.

"We have to get Jeremy," she twisted until the empty backseat came into her peripheral vision. "I forgot my key," her brows rose.

Caroline released an exasperated sigh and slumped against the driver's seat.

"I wish you'd said that before," she opened her car door, "Bonnie had your spare."

"I thought you had your copy," she shrugged as Caroline pocketed the key in question. "He'll never hear us knocking over the music."

"How do you know he's got music on?" Caroline's eyes narrowed.

"It's Jer," she grabbed her bags from the trunk, "he's made it his mission to ruin his hearing with loud music. Listen," she smirked, "you can probably hear it."

Caroline made a show of cocking her head to the right and closing her eyes; she completed the picture by sweeping her hair to the side. Elena wondered if the hybrid was listening too.

The following moments had to be executed perfectly.

"You're right," she nodded. Her eyes darted to the house. "His bedroom window is open."

"I'm pretty sure Klaus would kill me if I tried scaling my house in the middle of the night," she snickered. Klaus would have to get close first and find the correct weapon.

"Is anyone watching?" Caroline smirked.

Elena shook her head and the blonde vanished.

Caroline jumped, grabbed the window pane and flipped into Jeremy's room with all the grace of a vampire cheer captain. She straightened up inside and looked around; for a moment Jeremy remained ignorant to her presence, but then she moved closer.

A dark shadow crossed his sketchbook and he looked up, expecting to see Alaric with a semi stern 'go-to-sleep', but his eyes landed on Caroline instead.

A short yelp – that he would vehemently deny later – escaped before he could hold it in; his pencil dropped onto the bed as his hand clutched his chest.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" He glared up at her.

Caroline pressed her lips together and plucked his headphones from his ears. She tapped the small buds with her fingers.

"You should really be more aware of your surroundings." She cocked an eyebrow and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "You're the one who left your window open."

"I wasn't expecting supernatural company," he rubbed a hand across his face.

She perched on the edge of his bed, picked up his fallen pencil and snatched the sketchbook from his hand. She flipped to an empty page and wrote as she spoke.

"It's Mystic Falls, Jeremy," her hand flew across the page, "you should always expect supernatural company."

She pressed a finger to her lips and turned the note around.

"I only jumped through your window because Elena forgot her key, so if you want to yell at someone go yell at her," she nodded to his door. "She's waiting on the steps to be let in."

He lowered the book and looked up to Caroline's bossy expression. It was the one that commanded immediate movement, and fervent prayers for anyone that failed to heed her tone.

His fingers curled around the spiral as he stood and left his room.

He took the stairs two at a time, unlocked the door and yanked it open. His narrow eyes found Elena in an instant and noted something different in her stance.

"How could you forget your key?" He stepped onto the porch.

"It's an interesting story," Elena shouldered her purse, the weight of her house key dug into her arm, "which I will be more than happy to relay, but I'd prefer sharing time not be on the porch; it's a little cold tonight."

He looked at her for a long moment and then shook his head.

"Just get inside," he waved her in and picked up her second bag. He was certain she had left with one.

"Are you staying, Care?" Elena took off her jacket. She folded the worn material over her arm rather than hang it in the closet; truthfully she was surprised the seams were still holding after so long in storage.

"Aren't you two sick of each other yet?" Jeremy put down Elena's bag and crossed his arms. "You just spent three days together."

"Best friends never get sick of each other," Caroline deadpanned, "except for when they do."

"I'd think Elena would be tired of your pep and neurotic tendencies by now," he rolled his eyes.

"Oh please," Elena scoffed, "I love my little neurotic control freak," she pulled Caroline into a one armed hug.

"Love as in…" Jeremy smirked.

"Get your head out of the gutter," Caroline snickered.

Elena rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I don't care," he held out his hands, "but could you imagine the look on Damon's face if you started dating Caroline."

"What's wrong with Caroline?" Caroline crossed her arms.

"You're a neurotic control freak on crack," Elena grinned, "and I would choose you over Damon any day."

"What about your other boyfriend?" Caroline smirked.

Elena bit her cheek hard enough to draw blood. "I don't have a boyfriend," she swallowed.

"Yet…" Caroline sang, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Who are you two talking about?" His eyes shifted between the pair.

Caroline's smile turned sly as she nudged the brunette; she had said she would tell her brother everything, but it seemed she required a little push.

"Just this totally hot guy she met in New Orleans. I'm sure she'll tell you all about him," she gave Elena a pointed look.

"I will," she pulled her leather bound book from her purse to tap the cover, "but I'd like a chance to rest first. Are you staying?"

"I should get home," Caroline shook her head, "but we'll talk tomorrow; love you," she pressed a kiss to her friend's cheek and left.

Jeremy turned to his sister when they were alone and cocked an eyebrow. Her shoulders were straighter as if the fear and weight she always carried had been lifted. In the three days she had been gone she had gained confidence, and somehow lost her life.

She cut him a look before he could speak.

"Where's Ric?"

He floundered for a moment but then pointed upstairs to where he assumed their guardian slept.

"Would you get him please?" She whispered, moving to the living room. "I only want to do this once."

Silence followed her, but then his feet moved, carrying him to the second floor.

She flipped on the television, cranked the volume and opened the grimoire. Pages crackled as she turned them in search of the right spell; she made a mental note to put some tabs on the book now that they had finally been invented with an adhesive that wouldn't harm the pages.

Once she found what she was looking for she chanted in Latin and bit into her wrist. Three drops of blood fell from the healing wound onto the bare wooden boards at her knees, melting into the floor and sealing the enchantment.

She stood up, flipped off the television and turned to what remained of her family.

"We can speak freely now."

"What?" Alaric croaked. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and squinted at her as she slowly came into focus.

Jeremy handed him the page from his sketchbook and waited for him to read the hastily scrawled note.

Alaric squinted at the letters until his foggy brain was able to comprehend the meaning.

Elena's a vampire. There's a hybrid watching the house. Invite her in, but don't let on that she's not human.

"You're a vampire?" His voice rose to a shout.

"There's a hybrid outside," Jeremy hissed. "Do you want him to get Klaus?"

"There's an original hybrid in front of you," Elena licked her lips. Her shoulders lowered half an inch when they both turned to look at her.

"You're an Original?" Jeremy blinked. He reached blindly for the back of the couch. "You never wanted to be a vampire," he whispered, "why would you do this?" His eyes wanted to widen and narrow at the same time, resulting in a bulging effect. "How did you do this?"

"At the time I was pressed for options." She sank into an armchair and watched them slowly lower themselves onto the couch. "Turns out I really didn't want to die, but I couldn't stay human either. And I know I can't hide this from Klaus forever, but I would like to keep it quiet for a short time."

"We're going to need a little more information," Alaric struggled to keep his voice calm. "When did this happen? You seem to have excellent control, but you only left this house three days ago."

"I've been gone a little longer than that," she curled her legs under her body, suddenly feeling like the insecure teenager who had left. "It's a really long story, and it starts with why we went to New Orleans in the first place."

She sensed the burning questions, but they nodded for her to continue.

"Bonnie got this tip that the thing we needed to put Klaus down was in the city, specifically in the cemetery in a locked tomb; the tip came with a grimoire. There was a spell inside that she was certain would reveal what was locked away." Her eyes took on a distant look.

"Did it?" Jeremy prompted.

"In a way," she murmured. "The spell required a little blood, and since mine held the most power she used a few drops. The spell propelled me backwards…"

"And you hit your head?" Alaric guessed. Although that didn't make sense; Caroline would have healed her, but Elena had said she was an Original.

"Backwards in time," Elena clarified. "I did hit my head though," her smile was wistful as phantom fingers gently felt along her scalp, "but only because I lost my balance and I happened to be standing on stairs."

She lifted her eyes to find both of them staring at her with open mouths and disbelief written in the lines of their faces. Her supernatural hearing let her make out the strangled word they both struggled to form.

"Time?"

"Backwards in time," she repeated, nodding, "to the year 1914." She met Alaric's eyes. "I have excellent control because I've had 97 years to practice."

---

1914

---

The whisper had been a mistake. The recognition was immediate because despite holding in the words and biting down the name she couldn't hide her familiarity. She had been cursed with expressive eyes that anyone who bothered to look at could read; every thought was on display. She was an open book.

Rebekah, it appeared, was an avid reader.

It didn't matter that Elena hadn't said her name because Rebekah saw the instant recognition in her eyes; with her thumb she felt the cool metal of her ring.

Was the glamour still in place?

"Katerina," she breathed, cocking her head to the left.

Guess that answers my question, Elena swallowed; a shiver swarmed the back of her legs. Her fingers itched to pick Thierry up and cradle him to her chest protectively, but she worried the action would place the baby boy in more danger.

"I'm not her," she shook her head; "I'm not Katerina." Her voice held a strength her body lacked.

Rebekah stepped into the room and Elena instinctively pulled Thierry into her arms. Her eyes searched for somewhere he would be safe and unable to wander off. She couldn't run with him, but she couldn't leave him alone.

"I sincerely hope you are not attempting to use that child as a shield," blue eyes glanced at the boy.

"Actually I was going to put him somewhere safe," Elena chewed her bottom lip, "but Kol's house isn't exactly baby proofed."

"Safe?" Rebekah scoffed. She circled the young doppelganger with a deliberate slowness. "Do you think I'm planning on attacking him?"

"Not him," she rubbed Thierry's back.

"You think I'm going to attack you?" Rebekah's eyes widened. She inhaled slowly through her nose, confirming the brunette's mortality.

"Aren't you?" Elena doubted she would while Thierry was in the way but she was afraid she might act without thinking if she were accidentally provoked and if memory served Rebekah had a predisposition to dislike women with her face. She had been getting along well with Rebekah at one point, but that had been after the animosity and before the dagger in the back incident; none of that had happened yet, but Rebekah still held a fierce loyalty to her brother. It was probably stronger too since in 1914 he hadn't left her rotting in a box for a near century.

"Aren't you going to take me to Klaus? I knew escaping his notice once was too good to be true."

Thierry pitched sideways and reached for the floor; Elena steadied him and met Rebekah's eyes.

"If you do, please do me one favor and leave Kol's name out of it," she shifted Thierry's weight, "I don't want him hurt for trying to help me."

Rebekah's tongue darted out to lick her lips as a small line appeared between her brows; her eyes examined the sincere set of the brunette's mouth and her earnest gaze. If it was a manipulation, it was one of the strangest ones she had experienced.

"How long have you been here?" A single pale eyebrow rose.

"A few weeks," she blinked; lying, like running, would have been pointless.

"Then you must have met Isobel," Rebekah leaned forward; her eyes fell to Elena's shifting feet, "unless you are Isobel… but no," she shook her head, "Nik would have recognized you."

"Unless I was wearing a glamour," she muttered, but of course Rebekah caught it.

"So you are Isobel?" Rebekah frowned.

"It's Elena, actually," she held her breath. "Isobel was my mother's name."

"Elena," Rebekah tasted the syllables on her tongue, walking around her. "My brother is harbouring a doppelganger and her son."

"Thierry's not mine," Elena held him tighter, "I've just… sort of taken him in."

Thierry grabbed a fistful of Elena's brown curls and watched Rebekah with giant eyes full of curiosity.

"I see," Rebekah hummed, "and have you taken my brother in as well?"

Her voice held a note of warning that made the hair prickle along Elena's neck.

"If you're using Kol, if you're leading him on," she stepped into Elena space, leaving an inch between her and Thierry, "I will take you straight to Nik and find that damned moonstone myself."

Elena gritted her teeth; her eyes hardened under the accusation.

"I'm not Katherine, or Katerina, or whatever you want to call her." Fire flashed in her eyes. "I don't use people. Kol offered me protection because he didn't want Klaus sacrificing me, and I accepted because I didn't want to be sacrificed."

"You've adjusted to this new information quickly," Rebekah's eyes shifted. "How exactly did you fall into my brother's life? What did he tell you of the sacrifice Nik wants you for? Why should I keep your presence a secret?"

"Other than protecting Kol, you mean?" Elena arched an eyebrow. "It's a really long story, Rebekah," she pulled Thierry's fingers from her hair; "I doubt you'd believe it."

Rebekah backed away and dropped to sit in an armchair, crossing her legs. She relaxed, tapping the arms with her slim fingers, but no amount of ease could disguise the truth. Elena was on her feet, but Rebekah was the one in charge.

"Try me," her blue eyes glinted.

---

Apples and cinnamon assaulted his senses before his feet crossed the threshold. The spiced fruit created a fragrant aroma that clung to every inch of the house; it tempted him to the source, but first he had packages to deliver.

He rushed upstairs, depositing the myriad of boxes in Elena's room for the time being. Her room was located directly over the kitchen and the mouth-watering smell was stronger. He was more that familiar with the spiced apple cider – his siblings kept it at the ready in December – but it had never brought a smile to his face before as it had been steeped in foul memories.

His smile grew as he stepped into the kitchen.

Thierry sat on the floor playing with his stuffed bear and happily chattering to the inanimate creature; every few seconds his back would lean against a pleated skirt.

His cheer faded.

Elena's body sat rigid in her chair. Her muscles were tense and he could read the anxiety in the stiff line of her arm and jerky movement as she raised the mug of cider to her lips.

"Hello, brother," Rebekah lowered her cup. Her eyes locked on his face and for a moment she knew the great pleasure of watching the blood drain from his face. She stood from the table and straightened her skirt.

She cast a guarded smile to the brunette.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Elena," she lifted her chin and strode around her shell shocked brother. The front door closed behind her.

Kol's head turned back and forth from Rebekah's calm exit to Elena's straight shoulders; dread twisted his stomach into a knot.

"How long was she here?" The formerly comforting smells of apple and cinnamon brought on a sudden wave of nausea.

"An hour," Elena chewed her lip, "maybe two." She pressed her lips together and glanced at the gold ring he was watching with rising relief. "Kol," her lip throbbed as she met his eyes, "the glamour wore off."

The shift from relief to rage was instantaneous and marked by the tick of his jaw.

"Lock the door and open it for nobody," he spun and was gone.

Elena picked up Thierry and raced into the foyer. She flipped the locks and released a breath that rattled her lungs.

---

She walked down the street, weaving between the holiday shoppers with their piles of brown wrapped parcels. She slipped around a man and woman that strolled arm in arm down the snow dusted sidewalk; the man's familiar expression caught her attention; he gazed at the woman as if she were the sole source of light in his world with wonder in his eyes.

They turned the corner and she expelled a long breath before moving onto a nearly deserted Chartres Street; the Ursuline Convent loomed ahead. She could still remember when the nuns had lived and worked the grounds, educating young girls, before moving to a larger building in the 9th Ward; Nik had kept his true name from the plans, but she recognized his hand in the Neoclassical architecture and stucco-covered brick.

It was currently used as offices for the Archdiocese, but at this point in the day the beautiful grounds were deserted. The empty grounds suited her purposes.

She skirted the building and perched on the low hedge maze's wall.

She counted to forty-three before footsteps crunched over the gravel and frosted grass. She crossed her legs, tilted her head and blew out a white cloud.

"Are you out of you mind?" She glanced at him. "She clearly is," her lips pursed; Elena's heart had remained steady after the initial erratic rush.

"I assure you, sister," Kol took deliberate steps toward her; "I am in full control of my mental faculties, as is she."

"Because a woman who claims to come from another time is perfectly sane," she scoffed.

"She's telling the truth Rebekah," his brows lowered. He was mildly surprised Elena had told her that, but then again she knew better than to lie to a vampire.

"And you're protecting her out of the goodness of your cold, dead heart?" A snort broke from her.

"I'm not cold," he growled.

"You're hardly warm," she stood, craning her head back to meet his eyes. "I would ask what you're getting out of this, but I saw the way you were looking at her."

"What are you talking about?" A line appeared between his brows as he rocked back on his heels.

She saw his smile in her mind's eye: soft and gentle, and only for her. In her nine-hundred years she had never witnessed such an expression on his face; that was the sole reason she would keep her newfound knowledge secret.

"You have feelings for her," she could practically hear his mind working, but he didn't deny it. "That brings me back to my first question." Her voice dropped to a hiss. "Are you out of your bloody mind?"

She jabbed his chest and he staggered back.

"She's a doppelganger," Rebekah gritted her teeth.

"She's not like the others," there was an edge to his voice.

"I caught on to that," she crossed her arms. "She recognized me instantly, and one of the other two would have used that little boy as a shield, but when I asked her what she was doing she said she wanted a safe spot to put him down." She searched his face, but ultimately decided to leave out the brunette's sole request; that would come to light in time. "I think she expected me to drag her off to Nik right then."

"Why didn't you?" He searched her eyes.

"Curiosity," she shrugged. "You can't keep hiding her, Kol. When Nik finds out…"

"Nik's not going to find out," the fury in his voice cut her off, "because if you tell him I swear that I will find a dagger and hide your body where nobody will ever find you."

Rebekah caught her breath at the quiet rage in his voice, and the dark promise in his eyes. The well ran deeper than she had initially thought for her brother to make such a threat.

She rolled her shoulders back and spoke in a gentle, soothing voice.

"You can't hide her forever, Kol."

"I don't have to hide her forever," he inhaled slowly, "just until I've dealt with Nik."

"You can't deal with Nik," she backed up, "he'll put a dagger in you for this."

"That's the point," he grabbed her elbows. "I have lived in fear of him for centuries with the constant threat of a dagger to my heart if I step out of line. I have a plan, Bex, and I need you to keep this secret until I can bring it to fruition."

---

She adjusted the popcorn and cranberry garland while Thierry rolled around by her feet. The distant sound of the door stiffened her shoulders, but she relaxed when it was unlocked rather than broken down.

She stood on her tiptoes to reach the upper branches. His gaze warmed her spine.

"You're oddly relaxed for the situation, darling," he stepped up behind her as she swayed. A hand on her hip steadied her weight.

"I figured Klaus would have kicked the door off its hinges," she shrugged, and dropped her weight to her feet. She made no move to distance herself from his lingering touch. "I try not to panic until I know there is something to panic about, otherwise I'd be a walking anxiety attack." She spun around to face him and held her hands at her sides, resisting the urge to press her palms to his chest.

His fingers grazed her waist as she spun. His eyes dropped from her wide eyes to her parted lips, looking back up when she but her lip and spoke.

"Do I have a reason to panic?" She managed a small smile. "Am I going to have any more meetings with your family? I haven't run into Elijah yet."

"Fear not, love," he chuckled, "you'll not be subjected to my family again anytime soon."

She smiled and he lowered his eyes, turning his head to attempt hiding his frown.

"That's…" her smile dropped. She brought her hand up, curling her fingers around his elbow. "What's wrong? Is it that thing you don't know how to say?"

His head snapped up and tilted to the right as he scrutinized her features; her cheeks flushed under his gaze.

"How do you do that?" His fingers pressed into her side. "How do you read me so well?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "but can I take that as a yes?" She chewed her bottom lip, lowering her eyes to where she held his elbow. "You know," her thumb rubbed the inside of his arm, "in my experience, things get harder to say the longer they're left unsaid. If you want my advice you should just say it and get it over with. What's the hold up?"

"This will hurt you, Elena," he sighed. "I'd rather not become the source of your pain."

"I've got a pretty thick skin, Kol," she blinked, "and, honestly, now that you've said that it's gonna hurt I would rather know sooner than later."

He glanced down when a small hand pulled on his pant leg. Thierry used him for support to stand and clung to him. He watched the large blue eyes blink and drew in a deep breath.

She held her breath and shifted forward on her toes.

"Kol?" she gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

Kol's stomach knotted.

"I suspected from the beginning," he cleared his throat, "and Freya confirmed it…" he heard her heart skip a beat, "… there are dozens of spells to send a person backwards, but none exist to…"

She dropped her hand and stepped back, colliding with the tree. Pine needles rained down over her shoulders and clung to her clothes.

"Elena," he reached for her, but lowered his hand when she shook her head and closed her eyes.

Moisture clung to her lashes. She swallowed and willed her tears to stay at bay.

"I can't go home?" Her voice trembled around the words.

"You can't go back," he exhaled.

Her bottom lip shook. She closed her mouth, but it didn't help. She walked around him before the tears could fall and raced up the stairs, ignoring his call.

"Elena," he called out.

Kol moved to follow her but stopped when he felt the added weight around his leg.

He bent and hoisted Thierry into his arms, keeping one ear on her moving feet. There was a thump followed by muffled sobs.

"Well," he brushed some needles from the boy's fine hair, "it looks like you and I have some cheering up to do." He bounced Thierry gently and poked his belly. "Come on," he urged, "show me that charming smile, come on," he started up the stairs, "she can't stay sad with your bright smile."

He tickled his toes, smiling when Thierry laughed. It didn't last beyond the door. Had Kol been presented with any other crying woman he would have raced in the opposite direction, but her shaking shoulders tugged at his heart strings.

"Darling," he approached the bed, "I hate seeing you cry."

"What," she sniffed, poking her head out from the pillow, "re… reaction did you exp… pe… expect when you told me I'd never see my fa… family and friends again?"

"Honestly?" He circled the bed until he could see her vacant eyes. "Joy," he sat on the mattress. "No…" he placed Thierry between them, "… wait a minute…" he stretched out on his back and turned his head to meet her red rimmed eyes. "That's how I would react."

She fought it but a hysterical giggle bubbled up in her throat.

"I got a laugh," he tousled Thierry's hair, "now it's your turn, go on," he gave him a small nudge toward Elena. "It's your turn to make her smile, go on…"

Thierry babbled and tilted his head. He crawled up the blanket and flopped down on Kol's chest to tug at his tie.

"Not me," Kol clicked his tongue, "her."

Elena shifted onto her side. She wanted to sob and scream until her voice was gone, but it was impossible in the presence of an infant who was using a nine-hundred year old Original vampire as a body pillow.

"I'm sorry," he used his right hand to keep Thierry in place.

"It's not your fault," she mumbled.

"I thought you might have blamed me when you ran off," he slipped his free arm under her shoulders.

"I…" she closed her eyes. "I don't like people watching me cry," she admitted in a small voice.

He stiffened. "Do you want me to leave?" He held his breath. "I can go and set the crib up in the next room."

"No," she moved closed and placed her head on his shoulder; she hated it when people saw her tears, but now that he was there she didn't want him to leave.

Thierry patted her wet cheek and her brows shot up.

"Crib?"

A small smile lifted the edge of his mouth.

"You've been sharing your bed with him for a few days," his fingers slid into her hair. "It's time he had his own place to sleep."

She glanced over her shoulder to where the boxes sat by her door.

"You bought a crib?" She tipped her chin up.

"He couldn't keep sleeping with you," he reasoned. She had hardly slept in the days since Thierry had entered their lives.

She looked down to Thierry; fresh tears flooded her eyes.

"What am I going to do?" She rubbed her lips together.

"Well, right now," he ran his fingers through her hair, "you're going to grieve for what you've lost. Tonight you will sleep undisturbed, and tomorrow we'll finish decorating the tree. Really, it should have been done long before Christmas Eve."

"That's not what I meant," she blinked; the action burned her eyes. "I can't keep imposing on you. A doppelganger and a baby…" a tear soaked into his shirt, "… I've turned your life upside down."

"You've turned the whole world upside down," he smirked, "but you're not an imposition. You're wonderful company, and that is something I never thought I would say about a doppelganger."

"And Thierry?" She managed a strangled laugh.

He chuckled, lowering his nose to inhale her shampoo.

"I would say never mention this to my siblings, but the hope is you never see them again so there is little danger," he glanced down to where the baby was beginning to drift off on his chest. He could feel the resting heart of the boy and Elena as they beat in time with his; contentment settled on him like a warm blanket. "Before I turned I always wanted kids."

"Really?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Mmhmm," he smiled. "Sons and daughters I could teach magic. I might have even had one before turning but I couldn't find a woman capable of keeping up with me."

"Don't you mean keeping you in line?" She teased. She knew what he was doing; distracting her from her grief so it wouldn't encompass her soul.

"There you go again," he whispered, "reading me like a book."

"There must have been someone up to the task," she murmured.

"Not then," he shook his head, "or once during my years."

Her breathing leveled out as exhaustion took over; she fought the sleep.

"Nobody?" She struggled to open her eyes.

"Maybe one day," he smiled as she drifted off, "someone will come out of nowhere and fall into my life." He left out the part where he thought somebody already had; it wasn't the time, and she wouldn't have heard him anyway.

His mouth pressed lightly to the top of her head.

"Get some rest, Elena."

Notes:

As always I love hearing what people think. :)

Chapter 8

Notes:

Stefan stole the coffins but he never told Elena they existed. So when Elena left for New Orleans she didn't know the Originals were being hidden by her ex-boyfriend, and Rebekah didn't know either since her coffin was separate from the rest of them when she woke up. Elena assumed – like Rebekah – that Klaus had dredged her up. She has no idea that the latest locator spell blocking her search is curtesy of her dear friend Bonnie, or that the coffins – save for Esther's have been returned to Klaus.

2011

---

The bottom of the ocean, words long since heard echoed in her mind. He stole them away and dropped them at the bottom of the ocean.

There was no reason to doubt the validity of his words, and no reason to believe he had lied to her. He was not the type to lie; not about something like that anyway.

The bottom of the ocean created a large playing field.

She knew, she had been playing it for decades before her nap and never come close. Locator spells failed at every turn, and any place she could think to be significant for a drop turned up empty. The information she sought was in Klaus' head and Klaus' head alone; only he had been able to return Rebekah.

After the life she had lived she no longer felt the once familiar prickle of guilt when she thought of the blonde vampire; she only hoped that Rebekah would feel no anger when she woke up.

Pre-emptive apologies were wonderful, but she couldn't help thinking the blonde had forgotten everything. It was like her words held no meaning once she was gone; she could think of no other reason daggering the Original had worked so well.

"You okay?" Matt's voice drew her from her internal thoughts.

"Hmm?" She turned to her friend; his concern registered in his eyes. "I'm fine," she smiled, "just thinking about everything… everyone we've…"

"Got it," Matt nodded, "say no more. This town is messed up," he sighed as she unlocked the door, "none of us should have to live like this."

"It'll get better one day," she nodded, stepping into the house. She flipped the switch for the lights and froze in the darkness.

"Electricity must be out," Matt muttered.

"Weird," she swallowed. A rich smell flooded her senses and it took the century of self-control to keep her fangs in check.

Every instinct told her to run, but she hurried into the kitchen at a human speed; not to protect her secret from Matt – truthfully she wasn't sure why she hadn't told him yet – but because she feared giving into the first instinct would make denying the second one harder.

She would not sink her teeth into the poor soul who was bleeding out in her kitchen.

"Here," she reached into a cupboard for a pair of flashlights.

"Got any candles?" He clicked on his flashlight.

"Over here," she started toward the source of the smell. A large puddle of blood covered the floor. "Oh my God!" A vein fluttered beneath her eye.

"What the hell?" Matt failed to notice her shifting features.

Elena moved her flashlight beam into the hallway, following what she now realized was a trail of blood.

"Matt?" She nodded to the floor. It had been a long time since she required anything beyond her own blood to defend herself, but when Matt handed her the knife her fingers instinctively curled around the handle.

The pair of them followed the bloody footprints out of the kitchen and up the stairs. As they moved closer Elena made out the sound of a slow heartbeat, labouring to pump the little blood that remained in her soon to be patient's body, but still she dared not run.

Crimson hand prints stained the wall at the top of the stairs. She turned her head, followed the beam of light, and prayed the blood belonged to a home invader and not to one of her loved ones because based on the amount and the slow heart she doubted vampire blood would be enough to save them; that wouldn't stop her from trying.

"Ric!" Her voice came out in a gasp and she broke into a run.

Matt turned in time to see her kneeling before her step-father. He grabbed her arm when she touched the knife and Alaric's hoarse scream filled the hall.

"Leave it in," his voice pierced the haze over her mind, "leave it in!" He repeated when it looked like she would ignore him. "He's lost too much blood." He fished his phone from his pocket. "I'm gonna call 911."

"Ric, look at me," Elena grabbed Alaric's face and forced his chin up. His heart told her he was too far gone for magical intervention. "Who did this to you?"

His voice was raspy when he replied: "I don't know."

Through the fog of his vision and the dark of the power outage he squinted at her face. Tears streaked her cheeks, distorting the wriggling veins below her red eyes.

Matt paced behind her.

Alaric caught her wrist with a deceptively strong hold.

"You," he grunted, "have to kill me."

"What?" Elena's brows drew together. He was dying in front of her and they had no way of knowing that he would wake up. How could she do it?"

"Elena," he closed his eyes and took a short breath; the pain around the wound was fading. When he looked up there was an unreadable expression in his eyes. "You… you have to kill me."

She felt like hitting herself with a bag of bricks.

"Hang up the phone, Matt," she glanced over her shoulder. "If he dies a supernatural death, then he'll come back to life and he'll be healed."

Matt shook his head, holding the phone in place. "How do you know who did this is supernatural?"

"I don't," she exhaled. Her hands gripped either side of Alaric's head.

A loud snap echoed from under her palms.

"What did you do?" Matt froze. He quickly hung up the phone before the call could connect. "You just…" his tongue fumbled over the words, "… you… that's…"

Elena pulled the knife from Alaric's abdomen and stood up, turning around. Spots of blood dripped onto the floor at her feet.

Matt's eyes bulged when he saw her face slowly shift back to human. "This is… this is so messed up!"

"Tell me about it," she chewed her bottom lip and cupped her elbow.

---

1914

---

Sunlight warmed her face, kissing her skin and gently rousing her from an uneasy slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, burning against the day; mourning had left her burnt out with a headache to rival any hangover.

She squinted, pressing her palm to her brow, and pushed up on her elbow. She brought her hand down and collided with a folded sheet of paper. Sitting up, she flipped open the page; the blurred lines refused to come into focus until she blinked and rubbed the crust from her eyes.

There is aspirin on your nightstand.

She turned her head and located the tiny white tablets alongside a tall crystal glass filled with water; condensation rolled down the sides, soaking into the coaster he had placed down. Warmth spread through her stomach.

The tablets slid down her throat with ease and she spent the next fifteen minutes sipping her water until the headache eased.

In the bathroom she refilled the glass and drank it faster.

She splashed water on her face, further invigorating her senses. Examining her reflection she made a half-hearted effort to tame the wild mess of her hair and untucked her rumpled shirt from the twisted grey skirt; she had every intention of crying some more and then changing, but a distant sound made her freeze.

The childish giggles tickled her senses.

Over the last few days – nights mostly – she had caught Kol with the baby. It was usually in the midnight hours when she was too tired to wake up as Thierry cried; Kol appeared before the boy could whimper and would tend to him and cradle him until he went back to sleep. Once she heard him singing a strange lilting melody in a foreign language; music always seemed to calm him. During the day there were moments too: little games, and teasing smiles; things he would never let anyone else see.

A sly smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She pushed her grief to the back of her mind – it wasn't like she could ever escape it – and tiptoed to the nightstand. In the top drawer sat a rectangular leather covered box she had found a few days before. She picked it up by the handle and crossed her fingers, praying her fiddling had not been for naught.

Her ears led her to the room beside hers; she poked her head in and smiled. Along one wall, away from the window's light sat a newly installed crib, but her eyes were drawn to the middle of the room where Kol knelt on the floor with two tiny pink hands in his grasp; one of them came free to point in her direction.

"See," he chuckled, "I told you she was still here."

Thierry reached back until he had Kol's hand again, babbling and bouncing in his small blue shoes; taking a step he moved forward with Kol's help.

Elena acted before his foot touched the floor.

She whipped out the box, leveled it and spun a small silver dial on the side. A mechanical click was her reward.

Kol's head snapped up, eyes boring into her with an unreadable emotion. She pressed her lips into a thin line, but mirth still shone in her chocolate eyes. The longer he surveyed her in silence the faster her heart raced.

Thierry tugged on his hand, indifferent to the situation and impatient to move.

"What do you think you're doing with that, darling?" His eyes dropped to her hands.

The grip on the box tightened as a faint flush stained her cheeks. She held fast to her evidence that proved beyond a shadow of doubt that at least one Original had a heart. No proof existed to such a statement for his siblings; nothing tangible anyway – nothing beyond words or promises spoken, and speeches tended to be forgotten once the moment had passed. Positive actions faded in the wake of negative, and too often people became the villain because their earlier deeds were left behind – forgotten beneath layers of love turned to hate and trust twisted by betrayal – but not for him. Nobody could accuse him of being a soulless killer incapable of love, or the basic decency of humanity.

The photographic proof rested in her hand: corroboration for her view of his character.

Provided the camera had worked.

"Nothing," her smile was light and heavy at the same time; weighted with the forced show of false innocence.

He stood in a fluid motion, bracing the baby's back against his chest. A wicked gleam entered his eyes. "I find I don't believe you."

For every step Kol took forward, Elena went back.

"Are you accusing me of lying?" She shifted the camera until it was hidden from view, holding her wrists behind her.

"It's only an accusation when it's not true," he smirked. Her bright eyes drew him closer, hooking him in orbit.

"How do you know it's not true?" Her shoulders hit the wall. "Are you listening to my heart again? I'm starting to think you might be obsessed with it," her eyes sparkled.

"I don't need your heart to know of your dishonesty," he smirked, stepping into her personal space, "the smile you can't quite bite back is more than enough."

Thierry wrapped his hands in her mussed hair and tugged.

"Don't pull Thierry," he chastised, tapping the boy's fingers; he seemed to bet the message, but kept his hold on the curls. "The camera, love," Kol cocked his head.

"What camera?" His proximity brought a deeper flush to her skin.

"Come on, love," he sighed, "whatever photograph you managed to take could ruin my reputation."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denied as lightly as she could.

"I'm talking about the camera behind your back." Her fast breaths, fanning across his chin, made rational thought difficult. "Give me the camera, darling."

"Make me," her eyes glittered.

For one long moment the juvenile challenge hung between them and stunned Kol into silence, but victory for Elena was beyond reach. The defeat washed over her with his cocky smirk.

"As you wish," he dropped his hands from Thierry.

She choked on her inhale and jerked, wrapping her arms around Thierry. It was only after she dropped the camera to hug him that she realized Kol had never let go; his right hand still held the baby in place.

His left hand hoisted the camera above her head.

"That's cheating," she pouted, and his triumphant grin grew. "You tricked me."

He flipped open the camera and pulled out a small frame of translucent paper. "I have to say that I'm hurt you fell for it."

"I didn't fall for it," she glared.

He looked down to her arms and lifted one eyebrow.

"This means nothing," she scoffed, shifting Thierry. "I just have fast reflexes. I know you'd never drop him. Now give me back my picture."

"Your picture?" He pressed his hand to his chest, scrutinizing the film against the light. "That's odd," he pursed his lips, "I don't see your likeness here."

"Are you sure? I'm fairly certain I was holding it backwards."

"No," he smirked, holding it higher when Elena reached for it. "That's Thierry," he tipped his head up, "and that's me, but…" he flipped the picture so she caught a glimpse, "… no you."

"Give it back, Kol," she stood as high as she dared with Thierry on her hip.

"Manners, darling," he tsked.

"Please give it back, Kol?" She fell back on her heels.

"Better," he hummed and tilted his head, considering, "but, no. I can't risk this getting out into the world."

"I'm not putting anything out into the world," she bit down on the corner of her mouth to keep her face stern. "I just want the picture I took."

"Is that all?" He blinked.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Well then," he smirked, backing up, "come and get it."

He stepped away, waited a moment for her to follow and then flashed down the stairs.

She ran to the top and pointed at him on her way down.

"I am human and carrying a baby," she fixed him with a truly stern look, "no vampire tricks!"

He had the good sense to hand his head and offered her a sheepish smile with his apology. He resumed his retreat at a human pace until he was in front of the tree.

Elena appeared after a beat, put Thierry on the cleared floor and strode toward him. She followed him around the sofa, laughing and swiping for the picture. On the third pass she struck, lunging. Her hands hit his chest as she fell forward and his knees buckled as they went down over the sofa's arm.

From the corner of her eye she spotted Thierry as he used the coffee table to walk around in a wide oval.

She reached for his arms around her waist, reclaiming the photo.

"Ha," she laughed. She held it over his head and her heart melted. "Awe," she bit her lip, impressed with how the picture turned out, "so cute."

"Which is why you can't keep it," he held her hips.

"Please," she pouted, "we can call it my Christmas present."

"And what's my Christmas present?" He met her eyes.

"I'm pretty sure there's a giant diamond in my room with your name on it," she rolled her eyes and tried to tuck her prize in her skirt.

"Such a shame I already got your present," he caught the picture, hiding it in his pocket.

"You got me a present? You didn't have to do that," she shook her head.

"Well, I did," he smirked, "and you have no choice but to accept it."

"I could shove it in a drawer," she tilted her head.

"You'd have to take it first," he chuckled.

"That's true," she nodded, biting her lip. "What is it?"

"Oh no," he held her hips to keep her from falling, "you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"Ugh," she groaned, throwing her head back and rolling her eyes, "you're one of those." She adopted an exaggerated tone of a stern parent. "Absolutely no presents until Christmas Day."

"You'll find I'm very strict," he moved her hair away when it fell in his face.

"Please," she pushed out her bottom lip.

"If I can resist Thierry than I can resist you."

That drew a snort from her. "You can't say no to him."

"True," he glanced at the boy, "but I can say no to the woman who chased me through the house and tackled me."

"It's not Christmas without at least one tackle," she moved to sit up and nearly fell.

"This is an annual thing for you?" He sat up, balancing her weight beside him.

"My brother and I tend to fight the closer we get to Christmas, and then we would laugh about it later. When I was little we would end up wrestling, but the last few years we've taken to throwing pillows… or food…"

Her smile slipped.

"You have strange traditions," he nudged her shoulder.

She lifted Thierry up onto her knees. "Don't you have any traditions for Christmas?"

"Growing up we celebrated yule," he shrugged.

"There must have been traditions," she jiggled her leg.

"Many," he chuckled. "There were games and songs, and banquets that lasted for days. But my favorite part was when we would write out our wishes and burn them."

"Why would you burn wishes?" Her skin tingled where they were still pressed against each other.

"So they would come true," he met her eyes. "I haven't done that since I was human."

She bit her bottom lip, searching his gaze. Curiosity reared up.

"What would you wish for?"

"Different things," he murmured, eyes taking on a distant look. "I remember wishing for the spell I was trying to master to finally work, and for the girl I fancied to notice me. Once I wished for Elijah to stop paying so much attention to me so I could get on with playing tricks on Rebekah."

"Did any of them come true?"

"In a way," his smile whispered of nostalgia, but his eyes spoke of tainted memories. "Study and practice made the spell work. A prank for Rebekah hit the girl, and she slapped me. And shortly after Yule Elijah and Klaus met Tatia."

"Not quite the outcomes you had in mind," she turned slightly to face him. Tilting her head she felt his arm shift at her side. "What would you wish for now?"

"You mean aside from the immediate demise of my brother?" He tilted his head. "That might require some thought."

Something in the set of his mouth made her grin.

"I find I don't believe you."

"Are you accusing me of lying?" His eyes glinted with amusement.

She leaned a little closer and looked up at him through her lashes, echoing his earlier words: "it's only an accusation when it's not true."

"How do you know it's not true?" His whispered words brushed over her skin and his gaze flickered to her parted lips.

Flames rose up on the table.

Elena whipped her head to look, cradling the baby close as she backed away. The fire flickered and died, leaving behind a slip of paper with a few neat lines of printing.

Kol picked it up and read through it.

"It's from Freya," he folded the page. "She'll be back in a few hours; perhaps in time to attend the party this evening."

"Ah yes," she sat back on the couch. Whatever moment that had been building between them passed. "The much anticipated Christmas party. Are you excited?"

"Quivering with anticipation," he rolled his eyes.

---

He examined the purchase carefully, ensuring the specifications had been met. He tested the order with a small herb in his jacket pocket, removing his gloves only after he was done.

"Almost perfect," he hummed.

"Sir?" The shopkeeper's voice was tense with nerves; even among the humans he possessed a reputation. They didn't understand why they feared the glamourous family steeped in mystery, only that they did. "I've followed you directions exactly."

"You have," he slid the object back across the counter and reached into another pocket, folding back the page, "but I have one more requirement. I would like this inside. I would also like to leave with this today."

The unseen war had caused tension for all, and he flashed a charming smile to dispel it; the man nodded and disappeared into a backroom with a promise to return in fifteen minutes.

While he waited he browsed the displays, fingered a few items and traced engravings on others. He was inspecting a length of silver when the bell over the door rang.

"You're leaving your Christmas shopping late this year," Rebekah watched him from the door.

"I'll have you know I placed the order weeks ago," he rolled his eyes.

"I see," she held her hands behind her back, "and what did you get me?"

"I never said I was here for you," he lifted an eyebrow.

"That chain is far too delicate for Elijah or Nik," she sauntered across the shop.

"This is not why I'm here," he moved back to the counter as the shopkeeper returned.

"I'll be right with you miss," he smiled.

"Rebekah caught a brief glimpse of the item when Kol nodded and tucked the box and a folded paper into his jacket. "I'm not shopping," she smiled in return, "I'm just trying to figure out what he bought me."

"Tell my sister nothing, Adam," he glanced at Rebekah.

"Oh come on," she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, "give me a hint."

Adam swallowed, disarmed by Rebekah's smile. "All I can say is that I do not believe the gift is for you," he cleared his throat. Moving to look away he found his gaze caught by Kol.

"Not another word on the subject," his voice held a mesmeric quality.

"Spoil sport," Rebekah pouted as he paid. She held his arm as they stepped out onto the street where a brisk breeze played with the ends of her scarf. "Join me for a drink before the party."

"Love to, Bex," he shook his head, "but I'm headed back home to change."

---

Elena tiptoed out of the room, carefully closing the nursery door. She left it open just enough so she would hear the cries when he woke up.

Downstairs she slipped into Kol's study and quickly located a heavy sheet of paper that she folded in half and tore along the line. She put one half aside and sat down, reaching for a pen.

There were so many ways the subject could be approached. So many things to long for that it physically hurt to think about. Her family was lost, beyond her reach by a good stretch of time. Her life hung in the balance; she wanted to trust Rebekah, but she wasn't sure that she could. And then there was Kol whose fate hung in as precarious a position as hers; Kol who made her heart flutter and her blood warm.

A drop of ink stained the page.

She began to write, pausing for a moment between ever sentence to think of the right words that would accurately portray her thoughts and desires. When she leaned back the page had been filled with longing, desperate pleas for his survival and hers, and Thierry's if something should happen to both of them, words that hoped for a solution to every looming problem.

She stared at the ink speckled mess that she could barely read before crumpling it and tearing the second sheet of paper and writing a single sentence in place of the rambling paragraph.

The ink had just dried when she heard the front door open and close. She felt the myriad of emotions rush over her skin; the longer she spent in Kol's presence, practicing magic, the better she became at recognizing him without seeing him.

She folded the paper until it was a small square and swished into the hall with a rustle of heavy fabric. Her skirt swayed around her calves as she approached.

"What are you smiling about?" Kol hung his jacket in the closet.

"I may have figured out the spell you showed me for fire," she shrugged.

"Oh, bloody hell," he heaved a heavy sigh. "Am I going to find singed drapes somewhere?"

"I lit the fireplace, you jerk," she laughed, nudging him with her hip.

He leaned back to peek into the room where a crackling fire illuminated the glass ornaments on the tree. When he looked back Elena was holding out a slip of paper and a fountain pen. A small, uncertain, smile lifted her lips.

His eyes flickered from the offering to the fireplace and back. a feeling that was becoming more and more familiar fluttered in his chest.

"Traditionally wishes are placed in a Yule log and then put on the fire," he took the pen.

"Is that part important?" She backed into the room, turning to the fire as he wrote on the page. She took the crumpled paper from her pocket and tossed it in, watching the edges catch. The folded square holding her actual wish stayed in her hand.

"The only important thing is giving your wishes to the flames," he appeared at her side. "The fire releases the words and gives them power."

"After you," she motioned to the hearth.

"Ladies first," he smirked.

"How archaic," she giggled, pushing her washed hair behind her ear.

"How about a compromise?" He pressed a hand to the mantle. "Together?"

She twisted the square of paper, turning it between her fingers before nodding and tossing the paper to the flames. It felt a little silly and juvenile, but a rush of happiness and energy washed over her as the words were reduced to smoke and ash.

"Does this really work?" She whispered, watching the light flicker over his face. "Those wishes you mentioned sounded suspiciously like coincidences."

"Maybe," he murmured, stepping back from the hearth, "but you did light the fire with magic, so…"

He left the sentence hanging, full of possibilities, and backed out of the room.

"Where are you going?" She followed, bracing her arms on the banister.

"I've got to change," he walked backwards up the stairs, smirking.

"You're not going to tell me what you wished for," she teased on her way up.

"If I did that it wouldn't come true," he smirked.

"Like birthday candles then," she laughed, ducking into the nursery. It wasn't late, but well passed bedtime for little ones, but she worried he would wake up as he had in the beginning.

He slept fitfully on his back with his chubby arms over his head. As she watched his mouth puckered and he rolled, placing one hand under his cheek and squishing his face.

"Don't wake him up," a low voice whispered in her ear.

"I'm surprised he's still sleeping," she reached down, adjusting the covers.

"Perhaps being back in a space of his own helps," Kol took her elbow, gently steering her back out to the hall and downstairs.

"Maybe he'll sleep through the night," she breathed.

"Maybe you'll sleep through the night," he draped his suit jacket over the stairs and fitted the cufflinks in place, fumbling with the end.

Elena caught the bit of gold and fastened the pieces together. She held out her hand for the second one.

"I'm capable of dressing myself," he dropped the cufflink into her palm.

"Of course you are," she agreed. Stepping back she ran her eyes over his clothing choices. "What kind of party is this?"

He popped the top button of his green shirt and pulled on his jacket, leaving the vest undone. "Are you insulting my fashion sense?"

She shook her head. The clothes fit him perfectly and brought out the sparkle in his eyes. "From what I do know of your family I would have thought this party was black tie."

"Oh, it is," he nodded, grin growing. "It's a black tie affair complete with dancing, inane conversation and insufferable family."

"You dance?" Her brows rose.

"I happen to be an exceptional dancer," a lock of hair fell in his eyes and he made no move to remove it. "Every party opens with a dance."

"What kind?" Her fingers itched to brush the dark hair back in place.

"Well, when Elijah is in charge, it's typically a waltz," amusement flickered in his eyes, "but it the musicians are free of vervain I can guarantee it will be a little more upbeat."

"Why?" She tilted her head.

"For the sole purpose of getting under Elijah's skin," he chuckled.

"I get the feeling you go out of your way to get under Elijah's skin," she laughed, glancing at his attire.

"Trust me, darling, annoying Elijah is highly amusing; especially when he has no choice but to participate in a maxixe – I had though a mazurka, but for that you'd need trained dancers."

"I'm starting to think you're the type of guy who organizes flash mobs," she snickered, picturing him with a mix of dancers in matching outfits.

"What's a flash mob?" His brows drew together.

"A bunch of people that break into dance at random times, and usually in weird places," she shrugged. "What's a 'ma-sheesh'?"

"I can show you," he held out his hand.

"There's no music," she bit her lip.

"Why should that stop you from dancing?"

"The beat does help," she met his eyes.

"Very well," he nodded. With a smile he disappeared only to return a few seconds later with the quiet sound of music on his heels.

She couldn't remember the last time someone had asked her to dance. She always had to beg Stefan to step foot on the dancefloor and Matt had never been fond of dancing either – he would do it for her, but he was rarely thrilled at the prospect.

The fast and happy rhythm reminded her of dance competitions she used to watch with her mom, and was similar to a polka but with a distinct Latin feel behind the notes.

"I'm more familiar with the waltz," she eyed the sitting room. in the few seconds he had been gone the furniture had been pushed aside to create a respectable dance floor.

"Life is boring when you cling to the familiar," he caught her left hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

He said something she failed to catch over the sudden thunder of her heart. She nodded all the same and stepped with him, still holding his hand.

The dance began with a few steps into the room, but then he let go, talking hold of her right hand and placing a warm, guiding, palm on her waist.

Backwards she moved in time with music; every other beat her hand would be lifted and lowered. Looking down at his footwork proved to be a mistake; the patterns were too fast and complicated for her to follow. She chose instead to watch his eyes where she could see and counter every move he made.

The dance began to resemble a tango, but then he released her hand and nodded to where her fingers clung to his shoulder while his arm reached up and around.

With their left hands joined she reached around to her spine and his waiting fingers. They resumed with arms above their heads for a couple of bars before his hand slid around, pulling her back to his chest so he could guide her in a wide circle.

The intoxicating smell of her shampoo hit his senses.

He fumbled.

Elena bit down her laugh, scared the noise would travel to the second floor.

She looked over her shoulder to breathlessly ask if he was having her on but forgot what she was going to say. The music faded into the background and their steps stilled.

His dark eyes darted from her eyes to her mouth as her tongue poked out, tasting the salt on her upper lip, and then back to her lidded gaze.

She would have flushed when he caught her staring, but her skin already glowed from the dance – if it even was a dance.

He loosed his hold on her hand, reaching out to brush a few strands of hair from her eyes. His knuckles grazed her cheekbone, traced her jaw and urged her chin to lift.

Her body turned and her hand found its way to his collar, soft beneath her finger tips. Her eyes rose to the lock of hair he had left untended. There was little hesitation as she pushed it back in place with no doubt that it would fall free again soon.

Her fingers slid downwards to curl around his neck and a tingle raced down his spine. He followed the unspoken order and slowly dipped his head.

Her long lashes brushed her cheek and her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't think.

He pressed his palm to the small of her back, pausing an inch from her parted lips. The tip of his nose nudged hers and he lifted his eyes. The feel of her body in his arms and the heady combinations of smells were getting to his head.

Through lidded eyes she met his gaze and tilted her head just enough that they could move closer, bridging the space between them.

A jolt ran straight from her lips to her heart with the brush of his lower lip, but he never got a chance to begin.

The door slammed shut, and before either of them could move a voice stuttered from the arch of the door, clearly in an attempt at a drawl.

"Well isn't this cozy?"

Kol sighed against her lips and pulled back, heart sinking with the sudden rush of cold.

"What do you want Rebekah?"

"You're late," she shrugged, unable to take her eyes off the pair of them. "Elijah and Nik are getting impatient, and will probably come themselves if I return without you."

"Right," he gritted his teeth, "I'll be along in a second."

Elena's eyes left Rebekah's red dress when he squeezed her hand.

"I should say goodnight," his thumb pressed into her palm as he flipped her hand over and kissed her wrist. "You'll likely be asleep when I return."

"You think I can sleep with this plan you've concocted," she bit her lip. She already knew she would be waiting up for his return. "It's impossible to sleep on Christmas Eve anyway."

---

2011

---

His eyes opened slowly, and for one glorious moment he was willing to pass it all off as a nightmare. He would sit up and she would be in the next room, or the kitchen, or pulling Thierry out from under the tree where he had crawled once more. He would wake up and everything would be fine.

The moment passed. He wasn't lying in his bed, or staring at his ceiling. He laid flat on his back, surrounded on three sides by smooth satin. An unbearable hunger drew him up and he sucked a greedy burning breath of air into his neglected lungs.

More bodies sat up in his peripheral vision. The twist of his neck was pure agony with no blood running through his veins, but he managed it.

He managed it and came face to face with his seething brother and traitorous sister.

"You'd better be right about this," a raven haired man spoke up.

He followed the man's nod to a wall where one of his least favorite people leaned with three silver daggers in his hand.

"Elijah," he growled, stumbling from his silken prison. All the threats he wanted to make raced through his fog filled mind, but the only thing he could manage was a raspy: "How long?"

Elijah's dark eyes held him in place, shifting with something close to regret, but it was gone as soon as it came. He maintained eye-contact with his youngest living brother and straightened his shoulders.

"Ninety-seven years…"

He trembled from a combination of rage and hunger. His sloppy attack was easily blocked by Elijah.

He struggled against the hand around his throat.

"No amount of anger can change what happened, so save your fury for Niklaus, brother," Elijah whispered. He dropped his brother and watched as he slumped against the wall.

Rebekah, with a healthy glow beneath her skin, approached them. She held out a clear bag filled with what looked like blood.

Hunger won out over his fury and he sank his teeth into the bag. His pulse slammed in his neck, forcing the blood into his rage poisoned veins.

Notes:

The next chapter is nearly written as well, along with another chapter after that.

Chapter 9

2011

---

He knocked back the tasteless liquor and poured out a second glass. The bottle held a stronger appeal, but he could already feel Finn's inquisitive glances and he felt no desire to explain the truth to his oldest brother. He wanted to get drunk, so drunk that he couldn't remember his own name. After that he would learn what he needed to know of the new century and move on, leaving all of them behind.

He tried to tune into what Elijah was saying, but the bottom of his kept his attention; he particularly enjoyed finding it at the end of each drink.

The voices of his siblings floated in the air, devoid of meaning until a single word pierced his mind.

His neck twisted around as he leveled a dark glare on his sister.

"We're leaving you, Nik," Rebekah crushed shards of glass beneath her heels. "Right after I find that doppelganger wench, then you will be alone; always and forever."

Klaus leapt to his feet, enraged by Rebekah's words, but he didn't listen to the reply. The threats were always the same anyway: 'do the thing I don't agree with and I'll make you regret it'.

He suspected Elijah's reply but Klaus because for a moment he was silent.

Another doppelganger lived. Could she be the same one? Did it matter if she was? She wouldn't know him yet, and he had already failed her once. The only possible thing he could do was attempt to stop her from going back, but if he did that then she would have never come into his life in the first place and he would lack the motivation he had to save her.

Provided this doppelganger was his doppelganger.

Why didn't he ask her when she had come from?

He needed answers. He needed to know what had happened to her. What had happened to his Elena?

He was opening his mouth to ask that very question when the door opened. He turned with his family and felt the blood rush from his face.

"Mother?" He breathed.

She ignored the majority of her children, looking beyond them to Klaus who steadfastly avoided her gaze. She strode through them with the same no nonsense attitude as if she had seen them only yesterday and not a thousand years ago.

"Look at me," she commanded with the authority of a mother, lifting her chin as he listened. "Do you know why I am here?"

He saw tears shimmer in Klaus' eyes; his voice shook with vulnerability.

"You're here to kill me."

"Niklaus," she sighed, "you are my son and I am here to forgive you." She turned around to face the rest of her children. "I want us to be a family again."

---

"I guess I don't need to ask if you're sure he's gonna wake up," Matt braced his shoulders against the wall. "You're a vampire."

"I'm an idiot," she swiped at her wet cheek. "Three supernatural species rolled into one and I froze…" she shook her head, disgusted with herself, "… I froze."

She dropped the knife and slumped, sliding to the floor. Ninety-seven years she had waited to see her family again and what had she done? She nearly lost one of them because of her own stupidity.

"How could I forget his ring?" She drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in her hands, muttering incoherent curses under her breath.

Matt hesitated a moment. She was a vampire, and by her own admission two other things as well – one of them had to be doppelganger – but she was still his friend. That hadn't changed.

"He's your family, Elena," he crossed the hall, sliding down the wall beside her. "It's normal to panic when it's someone you love."

"I can't lose any more family, Matt," she spoke through the rising pressure in her throat.

"Hey," he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, urging her head to his shoulder, "Jeremy and Mr. Saltzman both have rings to bring them back from most of the threats in this town."

"It's not just them," she sniffled, tugging on her hair, "it's Caroline and Bonnie, and Stefan and Damon, and you. And there's Thierry and Marcel, and Kol if I can ever find him again."

"We'll do our best to keep you from losing us," he rubbed her upper arm. His eyes trained on the wall paper; in the dark the floral design resembled looming silhouettes. "Elena?"

"Yeah?" She twisted her pyrite ring.

"How did you become a vampire?" He let go so he could turn and face her. "And who are Kol, Marcel and Thierry?"

Elena straightened her legs and met his eyes in the gloom. "I'll tell you," she bit her lip, "but you can't breathe a word of it to Stefan or Damon."

"You think of them as family, but you don't trust them?" Matt frowned, tilting his head.

She shrugged.

"It's not that I don't trust them. I just don't trust Stefan not to tell Damon, and I don't trust Damon not to let it slip to Klaus, or you know…" a gleam entered her eyes, "… gloat about Klaus being unable to make any more hybrids."

"Okay…" he drew out the word, uncertainty in his tone, but willing to keep her secret. "So who's Marcel?"

"My friend…" she pursed her lips. "Also Rebekah's ex and kind of Klaus' son… adopted."

"Thierry?" He frowned.

"My son," she smirked. She could see the questions blazing in his eyes, but he held them in.

"Kol?" He leaned back, wary of her answer.

"My… friend," she chewed her bottom lip. If Rebekah hadn't walked in on Christmas Eve would she have had a different label for him? "He's also Klaus' little brother."

She held out her hand before he could interrupt and hurried to explain how she knew them all.

"When we went to New Orleans I was gone a lot longer than three days."

---

1914

---

'What' and 'if': two of the most unthreatening words to ever exist. They were both so innocent, but when put together they possessed the power to haunt.

She was certain the rest of her short life would be haunted by those two little words.

What if she had never told Kol the truth?

What if the brothers had come to an understanding?

What if she hadn't opened the door?

What if nobody found Thierry?

She shook her thoughts away before they could consume her and moved back to the front door. She pounded on the wood, rapped on the glass and screamed.

She screamed until her voice was hoarse.

"That won't do you any good."

Elena drew in a shaking breath and lowered her fist so could slide to the floor, taking the pressure off her trembling legs. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She wouldn't let her see the devastation; she still had a shred of dignity left.

"What do you want?" Her voice crackled over the words. The sound was almost enough to summon a wave of tears.

"I didn't want you here," Mary Alice spat. "I didn't think Klaus would put you in here." She crossed her arms and glared down at Elena. The fire in her eyes suggested that she wanted nothing more than to strangle the brunette.

"You…" Elena breathed, using the door to stand up. "You told Klaus about me?"

"And that you've been using glamour spells to sneak around right under his nose," she took a step forward. The cameo at her throat caught Elena's eyes. "I sent him a letter telling him where to find you," her eyes hardened, "and who was hiding you."

Elena resisted the urge to press her body into the door as the blonde advanced. She forced a strength she didn't feel into her voice.

"Why would you do that?" She squared her shoulders. "Do you have any idea what he's gonna do to me?"

"He wants you for some ritual," she shrugged, waving off the brunette's question.

"He wants to kill me," Elena hissed, stepping closer, "Klaus wants to drain every drop of blood from my body. By helping him you've condemned me to death, so I'm gonna ask again: why? What justifies murder to you?"

"I didn't know he'd kill you," she shook her head. "I just wanted to make you and Kol suffer. He left me in here to rot and you…" her hand gripped Elena's arms, "… you stole his affections!"

Elena gasped as she was shoved against the door. She had never been a cruel person, nor was she particularly vindictive, but the blonde witch had practically signed her death certificate over petty jealousy – jealousy that had no foundation before her imprisonment.

Her eyes went cold as she straightened up.

"He doesn't love you," she inhaled a calming breath, "he never loved you. From the very beginning he was using you. You," she dragged her eyes over the woman's frame, "Mary Alice Claire, were only ever a means to an end. Any affection I took from him was never yours."

Elena shook her head and walked round the table in the foyer. She wanted nothing more than to pick up the crystal vase and throw it against the door, or the witch's head.

"He doesn't care about me like that," she gripped the table.

"Oh, please," Mary Alice scoffed, "he's in love with you."

"He's not," she felt like crying again; they hadn't known each other long enough for that. What if did love her? What if he had thought of her as more than a friend?

"I'd say he is," a voice drew their attention to the stairs.

Elena twisted to look at the newcomer. She wore a nightdress that fell to the middle of her calves and a pale pink robe drawn tight around her trim waist.

"Do you know who I am?" She tucked her blonde hair behind her ear and approached Elena, glancing at the gold ring on her hand. A slow smile spread over her lips when the brunette gave a hesitant nod.

"You're Freya?" Her confidence grew with the reassuring nod. "You're one of Kol's witch friends."

"Yes," she nodded, holding out her hand, "come with me."

Elena frowned, glancing over her shoulder. "But the door…?"

"You're not getting out the door," Mary Alice rolled her eyes, "nobody is."

"Ignore her," Freya sighed, "she's angry, bitter and jealous."

"And telling the truth," Mary Alice called after them.

Elena ignored her and followed the other witch into the empty kitchen.

---

2011

---

Rules: he hadn't lived with rules in centuries; Elijah's didn't count.

All of mother's rules boiled down to one: no killing.

That worked well for him. Murdering his brothers was literally impossible. However, roughing him up a bit – or a lot – was doable, not to mention enjoyable.

The sight of a frame breaking over his head brought a tight smile to his lips.

"Was that necessary?" Elijah brushed dust from his sleeves and glanced at the floor. His body had struck the walls and shelves in several places. "Are we even now?"

"Not even close," he threw the words at him. Then he threw Elijah, watching with fascination as he crashed into a desk.

Elijah got to his feet, catching Kol's fist before he could make contact, twisting until he heard a crack. He spun, pinning his brother to the last undamaged shelf.

"Your anger will not change the past," he worked his jaw, feeling the break heal. "Let it go, and move on."

"Let it go?" Kol whispered, shoving Elijah's chest. His tone turned dangerous and icily cold. "Let it go? How am I meant to let it go?" He gritted his teeth. "What happened to her?"

Something flashed in Elijah's eyes, but he shook his head and relinquished his hold. He stepped back, repeating his plea.

"You helped him dagger me, and likely played a part in what happened to her," this time he recognized the guilt as it flickered through Elijah's gaze. He glowered at him. "What happened to her?"

"You don't want to know," he sighed at the same time Klaus chimed in from the door.

"She died," he leaned on the frame of the door, "she killed herself in the Fauline cottage…" he nodded to the mess of books and dust on the floor. "Clean this up and stay away from the new doppelganger."

Kol turned his burning eyes on Elijah. Her lively gaze swam in his mind; even at her most vulnerable she had never been suicidal. The disbelief must have shown on his face.

"She used a knife," Elijah breathed, the scene played out before his eyes, "plunging it through her heart. She was dead before I could reach her."

---

1914

---

Fetch the doppelganger, he had said. Sometimes Elijah wondered if his brother remembered that he was not the oldest. He wanted to say no. he wanted to give the strange outspoken woman a chance at life, but he would not repeat his mistakes with Katerina. He swore a vow: family above all.

He supposed he could have said no. He could have made the choice to learn what circumstance had led Kol – the wildest of the family – to protect her. Part of him wanted to know the nature of their relationship, and why Kol had revealed everything to her; it had to have been Kol.

He doubted Kol had chosen to protect her just to anger Klaus.

He could have said no. He could have betrayed his brother and let the woman escape, but if he said no he would have been in the same position as Kol.

He stared up at the two storey cottage. Every few seconds his eyes would dart to the doll head on the fence; its unseeing gaze was unnerving. It stared into his very soul to accuse him of every heinous act he had committed and remind him that it was he and not the young Petrova who should be locked up.

His head tilted to the left as he waited for the witch. The screams had long since stopped, but he could still hear the echo of her voice in his ear.

"Please don't do this," she dug her heels into the frozen ground.

Centuries ago he might have been inclined to react to the fear in her voice, but that was before Katerina had played him for a fool and hardened his heart.

He righted her body and steered her toward the house with an iron grip on her elbow. She struggled against him futilely every step of the way. If it wouldn't have led to the need for mass compulsion he would have tossed her over his shoulder.

"You don't have to do this," she dug her heels in and managed to make him stop for a moment. Her eyes pleaded with him to let her go. "He doesn't even have the moonstone. I will die in that house."

"Niklaus has lacked a reason to find the stone until now," he gave her a pointed look. "I assure you that he will renew his efforts and focus on hunting Katerina down."

"And then he'll kill her and me," she shook. Fear and anger flashed in her eyes. "You're helping him kill us both."

"What do you want me to do?" He narrowed his eyes.

Tears welled, misting over her vision and making her eyes glisten in the flickering light from the windows. He had always had a weakness for those expressive eyes. Tatia and Katerina had used theirs to stop him in his tracks, steal the breath from his lungs and bring him to his knees. Doppelgangers used their eyes to manipulate, and he would not be manipulated again.

"Let me go."

He took a deep breath and stepped towards her. She jumped at the sudden move but stood her ground. He met her desperate eyes and tilted his head. He slid his hand from her elbow to her shoulder feeling the whisper of silk against his palm. It was a cold December night and Klaus had dragged her from Kol's home without giving her time to grab a jacket; oddly enough she hadn't started her pleas until they were outside.

She trembled under his hand; frigid air adding to her performance.

"Do you know what happens if I let you go?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"I'll live…"

He cut her off with a finger under her chin. Her pulse pounded in her throat.

"You're wrong. If I let you go he will find you and I will meet the same fate as Kol," he glanced at the now empty street. "Your death is inevitable."

He grabbed her arms, flashed up the steps and pushed her through the open doors. Magic sealed the house before she could stand.

He heard her shrieks through the heavy wood as he walked back through the gates; the beginning strains of guilt prickled the base of his skull.

"Mr. Mikaelson," a delicate voice came from his side.

He cleared his throat and shook off the memory. Had it really only been an hour ago that he had deposited her in the house?

He turned to see the woman's furrowed brow. Her blue eyes were nearly white in the darkness.

"Are you ready?" She rubbed her hands together. "You'll only have five minutes to find her and get her back out."

"Yes, Miss Griffin," he nodded.

"There are a lot of witches inside," she warned, pulling off her gloves, "since the covens have taken control and turned it into an asylum."

"Precisely the reason she needs to be removed. The cottage was never meant to hold her for a long period of time. Whenever you're ready."

He moved through the gates when she murmured that it was done. A few seconds later he stepped into the house and came face-to-face with Mary Alice Claire.

"Where is the doppelganger?"

"Are you taking her away?" She uncrossed her arms.

"Yes," he nodded, "and for your help Niklaus has agreed to let you go. The moment she is safe in his presence you will be issued your freedom."

She straightened up with a tight smile and motioned for him to follow.

His heart jumped into his throat when she froze outside the kitchen. A second later the smell of blood assaulted him.

"No," he moved quickly, pushing her out of the way and raising his voice. "No!"

He ran into the room and caught her falling body. Staring into her lifeless eyes he smoothed the damp hair from her face and repeated the word, sparing no attention to the weeping woman who cried that she couldn't stop her.

There was only one voice in his head.

I will die in that house.

Chapter 10

2011

---

Elena peered through the slats in the blinds at Alaric. He had woken up completely healed, but she had talked him into going to the hospital. He was on vervain, so there was no logical reason that he wouldn't remember what had happened.

She turned around and approached Matt at the end of the hall.

"How's Mr. Saltzman?" He passed her a cup of coffee.

"Resigned to spending the night in observation, so long as I promise to change the lock on the house," she sipped, humming as the warmth spread.

"Is he really worried about you?" He tilted his head.

"I think he's more worried about Jeremy," she rolled her shoulders. "I'm worried about both of them."

"Bonnie and her mom are fine, by the way," he started towards the door.

"Good," she murmured, but then froze. "What was wrong with them?"

"Damon and Stefan found them in the caves," he shrugged. "I guess they got the coffin opened." He stopped her with a hand on her elbow. "You did know about the coffins, right?"

"What coffins?" She met his eyes.

"Stefan stole a bunch of coffins from Klaus. He said they held his family, and a few days before you left for your trip he gave four of the five back."

Hope rose in her chest and she held up her fingers as she counted: Finn, Elijah, Rebekah, and Kol.

"Klaus has his siblings?" She whispered, wondering why Bonnie hadn't told her. She felt tears prickle at the back of her eyes.

"Keeps them in coffins," he nodded. "Morbid, right? Would your… friend be in one of them?"

"It's possible," she chewed her bottom lip. Klaus' mansion was guarded by hybrids every hour of the day, but she had access as his 'human blood bag'. It couldn't be that easy, could it? "Have you talked to Caroline?"

"Yeah," he nodded, recognizing her thoughtful expression. "She's holding it together, considering how close she and her dad used to be. Any word on who's behind the attacks?"

"No," Elena stepped into the parking lot, "Sheriff Forbes said there are no real suspects at all."

They moved through the hospital parking lot.

"How are you dealing with everything?" She glanced at him, pulling her keys from her purse. "You keep getting dragged into everything."

"Honestly…" he leaned against his truck, "… I'm kind of lucky. All I have to worry about is showing up for my shift at the Grill tomorrow."

"You know how you were born before me?" She saw his brows draw together at the out of place question. "I got you a present when you were born," she reached into her purse, locating an envelope she had been carrying around, waiting for the right moment to give him. "You can do whatever you want with it except give it back to me," she smirked, "because it's all in your name. Just call the number inside."

"What is it?" He glanced at the thin envelope.

"Two hundred shares in Apple, and the high interest savings account information where the dividends have been deposited and accumulating since 1992." She backed up before he could push it back. "Remember my rule. Do what you want, but you can't give it back."

"This is too much," he shook his head.

"It's a birthday present," she smiled, "and a thank you for everything you do for me, and an apology for always dragging you into my mess of a life."

"That doesn't change the fact that this," he waved the envelope, "is too much."

"No, it's not," she caught the envelope and tucked it in his pocket, "I bought them dirt cheap, and I did the same for Bonnie and Caroline, but theirs are coming in the mail."

Matt took a small step back, frowning. She had told him she put herself in a state of stasis right before her birth. "Caroline and Bonnie are younger than you."

"That's why they will get their information in the mail; I had to leave instructions for them," she shrugged. With the chaos in New Orleans she thought it might be a while before Thierry got around to it, but none of her other friends were in immediate need. "Take it and go home."

Matt hesitated and she got the sense he would place the information in a safe place but avoid using it for as long as possible. She understood how hard it was to accept what could easily be viewed as charity, but Kol had been right. For her, wealth had been easily accumulated in the course of a century with modest purchases of low stock that nobody else thought would take off. She had a hand in Apple, Hewlett-Packard, Starbucks, McDonald's and Ford; with most she had gotten in on the ground level. She now possessed more money than she could spend in a millennium, and that was after raising a child and helping to rebuild the city in the wake of the fires.

"Get home safe," he unlocked his truck.

"Thanks," Elena moved away, "but shouldn't I be the one telling you that?" She saw his smile when she got in her car.

Turning over the ignition she put the vehicle in reverse and resolved to drive home. She couldn't just walk in unprepared; on the chance that he wasn't there she would have revealed herself, and made locating him that much harder. She needed an excuse to enter the mansion with a larger group of people so her presence – or lack thereof – would go unnoticed; it was a shame Klaus had become such a recluse since he used to throw wild parties.

She slammed on the brakes as something heavy hit her bumper, and jumped out with the car still running.

"What?" There was a small dent in the metal but nobody on the ground.

Her heart leapt into her throat when she straightened up and found herself looking into crystalline blue eyes.

"Drive much?" She sneered.

"Rebekah" her mouth popped open.

Rebekah inhaled quickly and then struck, grabbing Elena's upper arms and shoving her into the side of the car. The brunette reeked of mortality, and her doe eyes were abnormally wide.

"Surprised?" She growled low in her throat. "You drove a dagger through my back, Elena. It hurt." She lifted her chin to show the brief glint of her fangs.

Elena's scream was more from shock than fear. A glint of silver drew her eyes to her wrist, but before she could say anything Rebekah was ripped away from her and held to the car by her throat.

"Elijah," she exhaled.

He let her go with a narrow eyed glare: "leave."

Rebekah rolled her head forward and took a step toward Elena; she doubted her brother would cause the doppelganger bodily harm.

Amusement flashed in his eyes. "Are you challenging me?"

Her bored expression flickered over his face. "You're pathetic," she glanced at Elena and caught a glimpse of the silver oval in her palm, "both of you," she breathed the words and was gone.

"Well…" Elijah's breath created a white cloud in the air. A small smile lifted his lips. "I believe we have a little catching up to do."

She straightened her shoulders, forced her stiff fingers to uncurl and dragged her eyes from Rebekah's vacated spot to his gaze. He had no idea how accurate he was.

---

1914

---

Elena stared at the witch with wide eyes. The shaking in her limbs and the tears that threatened to spill had finally stopped. Her body and mind sat frozen as she processed the information and tried to figure out what to do with it.

"You're… you… you are…" her tongue tripped over the words that had no business being in her mouth. It couldn't be true. She had it on good authority that the person the witch was claiming to be was dead. "Elijah… he said plague…"

She was so frazzled that she didn't realize the slip until after she said it. It was 1914 and she had spent next to no time with him.

"It's okay, Elena," she waved off the rising panic. "I know where you're from."

"You do?" Elena shrank back in her chair. She hated the childish lilt of her voice in that moment.

"I do," Freya nodded. She glanced around the empty kitchen before bracing her elbows on the table and meeting Elena's troubled eyes. "I want to help you. I want to help you get back to your family."

"But Kol said…"

"There is no spell that can take you home," she smiled sadly, "but there is a way for you to see your loved ones again. If you become immortal then you'll catch up to them."

"If I'm immortal I'll be hunted until the ends of the earth before he kills me," Elena shook her head. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life on the run."

"He won't hunt you down because he'll think you're dead," Freya reached into her pocket. "Even if he finds you he won't be able to kill you."

Freya sat two jars on the table; one was empty and the other filled with herbs.

"I don't understand," Elena murmured. She picked up the jar of herbs, not wanting to question the purpose of the empty one just yet. "The only way he'd be unable to kill me is if I were an…"

Her eyes widened as the realization hit her. Kol had teased the possibility weeks before, but ultimately dismissed it because while he had access to the spell he lacked a crucial ingredient.

"Doesn't it need doppelganger blood?" She eyed the empty jar.

"That is already flowing through your veins," she pulled a small knife from her pocket, "but I still need it… you need it."

Elena stared at the glittering metal for a long moment before finally extending her hand. She didn't make a sound as the knife drew a stinging line over her palm, nor did she breathe when the small jar filled with her blood.

Freya healed the cut with a murmured incantation and closed the jar before holding it out to Elena. A cry from the front of the house had a sense of urgency flashing over her face.

"Hide that in you skirt," she hissed.

Elena moved quickly to do as she was told, spurred to speed by Freya's actions. Her eyes tracked the movements as Freya diluted the herbs with water and pressed it to her palm. She drank as instructed, too stunned by the change in demeanor to argue. The concoction slid down her throat, leaving behind a faint taste on her tongue.

Freya snatched up the discarded knife and spun it to point at Elena's breast.

"Wait," she cried, holding out her hands.

"I want to explain everything Elena," Freya's eyes darted to the door, "but we don't have time right now." She moved to the closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. "If you want to be free – if you want to survive and live – this had to happen right now."

"I get that," she nodded, "but I just have one question: why'd you need my blood?"

"I don't," Freya murmured. She took Elena's hand and guided her fingers to curl around the handle. "You do. Cross the threshold when you wake up and drink it to finish the spell only when you are off this property. Can you do this?"

Elena nodded.

She took a deep breath, felt something in the air shift and exhaled while plunging the knife through her heart.

Her knees buckled.

The last thing she saw before her world went black was the look of horror in the eyes of Mary Alice Claire; the last thing she heard was a loud 'no'.

It sounded so familiar.

---

2011

---

He removed his vest and unfastened his cufflinks; any lingering scent had long since disappeared from the metal. All he had left was the memory of her fingers fastening the clips.

He closed his eyes, willing the emotions to back away, but it was not so easy. The flood gates had been torn apart by a feisty brunette and they were impossible to repair.

He placed the cufflinks on the nightstand.

The door to 'his' room opened. His brows drew together, and he glowered at his silent sister.

"Nothing to say?" He cocked an eyebrow.

Rebekah placed a folded slip of paper on the bed and retreated to the door. "Some things are better articulated with ink and paper."

He stared at the page long after she was gone and stripped off his shirt. Her words held no appeal to him.

He crumpled the page, tossing it in the pile of bloodstained clothes to burn.

---

1914

---

He shut the door behind him as silently as possible and moved into the house, freezing at the sitting room door.

"I see you've helped yourself to my liquor," he cocked an eyebrow, willing his heart and face to remain calm.

"It was an excellent year," Klaus swirled the liquid. "I should know since it's one I purchased." He stood, picking up the bottle. "You do make a habit of taking my things."

Kol's eyes narrowed. A feeling of dread crept up his spine as he listened to the empty house; she wasn't there. He crossed his fingers, hoping she had taken Thierry and ran.

The dagger weighed down his pocket. That's what he had to be here for.

"How long did you think you could hide her from me?" Klaus tapped the bottle before setting it aside. There was no physical warning before he pinned Kol to the wall.

The bottle shattered, staining the carpet with red wine.

Klaus' voice was deadly quiet. "Hiding a doppelganger, and conspiring against me…" his cold eyes raked over his brother. "I never should have woken you up."

He knew he should have been worried about the dagger that was surely about to push through his chest, or outraged at the betrayal that could have only come from his sister, but as he fought his brother's hold he had only one thing on his mind.

"I'm not letting you hurt her," he shoved, knocking Klaus to the ground.

Kol didn't get long to enjoy the sight of Klaus crumpled by the broken glass before his arms were wrenched behind his back. He struggled, but couldn't get the leverage needed to break free.

"Why are you helping him Elijah?" He growled. Panic gripped him when Klaus appeared pulling the stolen dagger from his pocket and dipping it in a bottle of ashes.

"You've been conspiring against your family," Elijah shook his head.

"I stopped being a part of this family a long time ago," he grunted. His heart pounded around the silver blade before stopping.

"He was just protecting a girl from certain death," Elijah lowered Kol onto a couch.

"And creating a weapon that could be used against me," Klaus grumbled. His foot kicked a small box that fell to the floor. "Would you like to join him brother? Or perhaps you would prefer being locked away with the doppelganger?"

"If you lock me away then who will find the moonstone?"

---

2011

---

Elena busied her hands wiping off the clean breakfast dishes. Her gums ached for something more substantial than the omelettes she had whipped up for herself and Jeremy, but with her current company her thirst would have to wait to be quenched.

"Are you two just going to stand there," she glanced over her shoulder, "or do you have something to say? It's a little unnerving the way you're both staring at me."

Damon glanced at his brother and braced his hands on the island. "There's something you need to know…"

"Stefan abducted Klaus' daggered siblings who were supposed to be sleeping with the fishes?" She guessed, turning around.

Stefan's mouth fell open.

Damon's head snapped around to look at his brother.

"Matt told me last night," she crossed her arms, "when he told me that Bonnie and her mom were fine. Now that took me completely by surprise because I had no reason to think Bonnie and her mom would be hurt." She fought to keep her voice level, but still the temperature in the room spiked. "How long did you have them?"

A flush rose under Stefan's skin; he resisted the urge to tug at his too tight collar and cleared his throat.

"A couple of weeks."

"You had them for weeks and you never told me?" She struggled to remember if they had actually mentioned it – even in passing – but it had been so long ago. She felt certain they hadn't though; that was something she would have remembered. That was something she would have told Kol. "Why didn't someone tell me?"

The brothers shared a look, and her eyes narrowed. She glanced between the pair of them, wishing she had someone to place bets with on who would answer the question.

They seemed to come to a silent agreement.

"We thought you might take issue with the plan, or take the daggers out," Damon leaned back, "since you have a history of that."

"You wouldn't have approved of using them as leverage," Stefan met her eyes.

"Damn right, I wouldn't have," she uncrossed her arms. "You were using people who had never done a damn thing to you…"

"Elijah betrayed us," Damon cut her off, "and Rebekah is going to want you dead for what you did to her."

"Elijah betrayed me, Damon, not you," she shook her head, "and if I'm honest, I don't think I ever expected him to go through with it because no matter what Klaus has done he is still his brother. He was never gonna kill him, and if either of you really thought he would then I am sorry, but you're both idiots."

"You could have died that night," Stefan frowned.

"If I'm going to blame anyone – besides Klaus – for the outcome of the ritual it's not gonna be Elijah," her eyes closed. There were so many conflicted emotions where Elijah was concerned; he had left her to die in 1914, but he had tried to save her in the present. For the Original things were linear, but for her everything was messed up in her head.

She blinked and folded the towel, setting it in a neat pile beside the sink. What was done was done, and there was no use getting worked up about it. Elijah had tried to help her with the elixir, Damon hadn't trusted it and gone about saving her in his own way; what happened to John wasn't either of their faults. For the longest time she had blamed herself, but then she'd had a child of her own and understood some of those impossible decisions he had mentioned.

"The fifth coffin held their mother," she looked up, moving her gaze from one brother to the other.

"As in the Original witch?" Stefan leaned toward her, brows drawing together.

"What?" Damon shifted back and looked anywhere but at her. "How is she even alive? Thought her hybrid freak show of a son ripped her heart out a thousand years ago."

"Strangled actually," Elena shrugged. "I'm guessing she's got some connections in the witching community." She turned around and started putting the breakfast dishes away. "I ran into Elijah last night and he said that she wants to live in peace with her family, including Klaus."

"She was supposed to be the weapon to help us kill Klaus."

"Well, not anymore…" Elena braced herself when Stefan's hands curled around the back of her kitchen chair; his tense muscles shifted, but he refrained from throwing the furniture. She doubted the boarding house would have survived the rising rage without a few dents. "… at least not according to Elijah."

"That coffin was the only thing stopping Klaus from tearing us to shreds," Stefan met her eyes.

She couldn't help but wonder if Klaus would have wanted to tear them to shreds if Stefan hadn't taken his family, but the history was too convoluted to figure out who had thrown the first punch… probably Klaus.

"Anyone else feeling a little used right now?" Damon rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall.

"Elijah promised that his family wouldn't hurt anyone," she sighed. Her head snapped around to the front of the house as the doorbell rang. "I believe him."

She left the brothers in the kitchen and strode through the house to her front door. She tilted her head when she found the porch empty and lowered her eyes. A thick envelope sat on the mat with her name written on it in ornate swirls of ink; she picked it up and turned around, sparing Damon and Stefan a brief glance.

"What is it?" Damon squinted at the paper.

Elena reached inside and lifted out a card covered in neatly typed lines. "It's an invitation," she chewed her bottom lip and read, "'Please join the Mikaelson Family, this evening at seven o'clock for dancing, cocktails and celebration'."

"Who the hell are the Mikaelsons?" Stefan scoffed.

"The Original Family," Elena scanned the card. Perfect.

"It's not bad enough they're moving into town," Damon rolled his eyes, "now they want a housewarming gift?"

"What's that on the back?" Stefan glanced at the card.

Elena flipped it over to find more of the ornate handwriting on the back. "A note," she frowned, "'Elena, I think it's time we finally meet, Esther'."

"Well," Damon snapped the paper from her hands, "you're obviously not going."

---

1914

---

She bounced on the balls of her feet, shushing the screaming child in her arms.

"It's okay," she rubbed his back, "shh, sweetie, it's okay." She lowered her hand to pick up the bear from where it had fallen. "Do you want your bear?"

He screamed, pushing the toy away with a small hand; it bounced off the floor and slid under the couch.

She felt tears well up in her eyes; her ears rang.

"I don't know what else you want," she knelt on the floor. She placed the screaming child and reached for the stuffed animal. Her hand closed around a small box.

That was wrong; she knew exactly what he wanted, or rather who he wanted, but that wasn't possible.

She straightened up with the toy and sighed as she saw him rolling beneath the bowing branches of the tree. The screams turned to sniffles and muffled sobs. "Come on," she shimmied down on her stomach.

Her eyes found him under low branches.

"What have you found?" She reached for the small box in his hand. He followed her, scooting out with the aid of her palm behind his back. "Let's see, then."

The lid popped off easily and he reached inside for the glittering metal. She pulled it away when he tried to put the oval in his mouth.

"That's not a snack," she sighed.

The locket hit her palm, pain seared her skin and she hissed. She dropped the locket and it popped open revealing two separate compartments. A purple flower fell from the back onto the wooden floor boards.

He reached for it again. She picked it up by the chain and gave a small shake to make sure all of the herbs had fallen out. "That's not for you."

She glanced at the photograph inside before shaking her head and standing up. She had a job to do. She had things to gather and a child to relocate before her brother found out he existed and kept him under guard because he wouldn't listen and believe the child wasn't hers.

"Let's go get your things," she sighed. Bending at the waist she picked him up and balanced him on her hip; his sobs renewed.

She made it three steps across the sitting room when the door opened and she froze. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, expecting to see one of her brothers, but when she looked up the air rushed from her lungs.

A large stain covered the front of a red silk blouse. Chunks of brown hair stuck to tacky skin. Dark circles ringed even darker eyes.

"You…" she pointed. The silver locket hung from her hand. "You're… what the bloody hell are you doing here?" The baby in her arms pitched sideways, reaching for the mess of a woman in the sitting room.

The brunette flashed across the room, pulled the baby into her arms and closed her eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks as she kissed the boy's head.

He placed his head on her shoulder and began to calm down. Once she was satisfied he was unharmed she focused her bleary eyes on the blonde.

Chapter 11

2011

---

Fashion hadn't changed much in the last century. The lines of the suit were a little neater and the jacket a little shorter, but the integrity of the evening attire remained the same; nothing like the drastic shift in style after his last awakening.

Men's fashion, anyway.

A glance at his sister revealed that women's style had met with drastic alterations. The brilliant paint a manicurist applied to her nails would have been considered a great scandal a hundred years ago and labeled her as a prostitute, but in the newest century it was perfectly acceptable for women to colour their nails – expected even. That was nothing compared to her clothes.

Women in trousers; he had only ever seen one woman in trousers and she had abandoned them in favor of socially acceptable attire.

He straightened his jacket, picturing how it would look once finished. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn something so formal for a formal occasion, but he found he didn't have the power to refuse his mother's request as he would have Elijah.

"Rebekah?" He glanced at her in the mirror, taking pains to keep away his glare; mother had said no fighting, and he knew he wouldn't get away with it if he were to attack Rebekah as he had his brother. Revenge against his sister would have to be well thought out. "Tell me how handsome I am."

"Ah, Kol," she flipped a page in her magazine with her finished hand, "you know I can't be compelled."

When he saw her in the mirror her mouth had been stretched into a tight smirk with a hint of hope at the corners, but his eyes held no true amusement. It was false cheer and pressurized smiles; mother could say whatever she wanted, cast her wishes to the fire, but they were not a family anymore and they hadn't been in centuries.

He couldn't begrudge Finn his genuine grin though; his eldest brother was the only one who remained in the dark over the last century's events and deserved some amusement after having spent hundreds of years in the confines of his coffin.

The door burst open and his teeth clenched.

He waved off the tailor, turned and lounged casually against the mirror. His dark eyes tracked Klaus' tense stride across the floor.

"You went after my doppelganger?" He roared halfway across the room. "What is wrong with you?"

"Here we go," Rebekah muttered, rolling her eyes. She flipped another page and scrutinized a black and gold dress.

"Do you want another dagger in your heart?" Klaus tore the glossy paper from her hands, chucking it into a far corner of the room.

"Again with the dagger threats?" Kol scoffed. His muscles tensed, holding him in position. "Don't you have any other tricks?"

"Go back to staring at yourself," Klaus grumbled, glancing over his shoulder.

"And who are you," he straightened up, "my father?"

"No, Kol," he growled, "but you're in my house."

"Then perhaps we should go outside," he stepped into Klaus' personal space. A muscle in his jaw ticked. He itched for a fight, for a reason to throw a punch and mess up his brother's face for a few hours.

Tension shifted, percolating between them, and if he had still possessed magic his brother would have been a writhing mess.

"Enough!"

Their staring contest was broken up by a sharp feminine voice. He glanced from the corner of his eye, but otherwise kept his stance.

"Niklaus," Esther motioned for him to follow, "come."

Kol smirked, watching as his brother trailed out of the room with slumped shoulders.

---

The moment had finally arrived after an eternity of waiting; he was in there. She knew it.

She could feel it.

She rocked back and forth on her heels – yet another habit she had never been able to shake. Half of her brain whispered 'stop it', but the other half said 'don't'; the shifting movement gave the impression of fear and implied to anyone that looked in her direction that she was still the human being she pretended to be, so she shifted and waited for her back-up.

"It's so weird," Bonnie crossed her arms on the table. She reached out and popped one of Caroline's fries into her mouth. "The Originals are throwing a ball, an actual ball. Did Klaus really give you a dress?"

"Yes," Caroline scoffed, waving a fry around, "and it's a freaking Cinderella fetish, is what it is." She dropped the fry in her open mouth and turned her full attention on Elena. "Why does the evil witch want an audience with you?"

"Do you think she knows?" Bonnie lowered her voice and resumed flipping through the grimoire Elena had brought with her from New Orleans. The loose pages with drawn objects shifted and nearly fell from the book.

"Knows what?" Elena glanced around the Grill. She saw no other supernaturals in the restaurant, but she still leaned in close to breathe the words. "Does she know that her oldest daughter lives and bent the laws of nature to turn the last doppelganger into an Original vampire-witch hybrid?"

"Yeah," Caroline rolled her eyes.

She leaned back, shrugging one shoulder. A hint of a grin played at the edge of her lips. "I have no idea, and there is only one way to find out."

"I thought you told the Salvatores you weren't going?" Bonnie glanced at Caroline. Her slim fingers folded a page that had fallen from the book.

"I did," Elena nodded, "which is why I need a drama free bodyguard."

"But you don't need a body guard," Caroline whispered.

"I know that," Elena tilted her head, "and you know that, but Damon and Stefan don't. This is the closest I've come since 1923, and I need your help, Care." Her eyes focused on Bonnie. "Why didn't you tell me about the coffins?"

"I thought you'd disapprove and then we left for New Orleans and it didn't matter because they had been given back," she shrugged.

"But you could have told me on the drive back," Elena frowned.

"I didn't see much point," she closed the grimoire, toying with the sheet of paper. "They'd been given back, and for all I knew Klaus had dropped them at the bottom of the ocean again. He's got resources; he could have hidden them away within an hour of getting them."

Elena tightened her glittering shawl around her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. Her friends were right, she didn't need a bodyguard and she had no reason to wait.

She knew what the look had meant; she was sure she had known what it meant.

"Careful, ladies," Rebekah stopped at their table, "it's all well and good until she stabs you in the back."

"What are you doing here?" She leaned back, crossing her arms. "I know your mom's rules: no hurting the locals." A frown flickered over her face when Rebekah looked down.

She dragged her wide eyes back up and schooled her features back into her usual mask of disdain, but Elena had seen where the blonde's gaze had lingered.

"Get over yourself, Elena," she cocked an eyebrow, glancing again at the locket, "it's not all about you."

Nearly a century had passed since Klaus had last brought her there to give blood, and the place looked bigger, or maybe that was a result of the crowd of glittering neighbors; their voices rose from every corner, making it impossible to distinguish a single conversation.

She knew every person in the room, but none of them knew her, not anymore.

Mayor Lockwood's voice rose over the crowd, crystal clear as she shared a whispered conversation with Damon. She just resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the sound of his voice. She started to tune out the conversation – to let it drift back into the cacophony of noise – but then she caught the tail end of an introduction in a voice she had longed to hear.

"… I hope your lovely town embraces us just as much as we plan to embrace it."

Her head snapped up. She looked out over the crowd with baited breath, curing Klaus' architect when she couldn't pinpoint the voices.

"Damon Salvatore. Have we met?"

"I've met a lot of people, and you don't particularly stand out."

She couldn't see him, but the haughtiness in his voice formed a lump in her throat. She swallowed it and kept looking as she adjusted her gloves. She heard Damon excuse himself from Carol Lockwood, but she was too busy trying to find him that she didn't realize where Damon was going until it was too late.

"I thought you weren't coming," she masked her annoyance. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Stefan appeared on her left.

"Surprise, surprise," Damon smirked at his brother, "you're not supposed to be here."

"Well, I am," Elena sighed as the statement was directed at her. She had rarely used her compulsion – aside from 'snatch-eat-erase' in her early years – but she found herself wishing they were vervain free; maybe then she could have gotten them off her back. "And I'm not leaving until I find what I came for."

She flashed them a tight smile, twisted sideways and slid between them to slip into the crowd of glittering townsfolk. If she was going to deal with Stefan and Damon then she was going to need a drink before their protectiveness drove her to reveal her nature and sink her teeth into the nearest human neck.

Her gloved fingers tapped out a pattern on the bar as she waited to be noticed, but before the bartender spotted her a tall man appeared at her side, melting from the crowd.

"Elena Gilbert, I presume?" He watched her from the corner of his eyes. "I'm Finn Mikaelson. You're here to see my mother."

I'm here to find your brother, she tipped her head up. He was as tall as Kol and older than Elijah. I suppose I can see your mother too.

"Is she here?"

Finn glanced over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow.

"Her request did not include your friends."

Elena followed his eyes to see Damon moving towards them and her annoyance flared.

"They're protecting me," she lifted her eyes. It was true, as was the reason for them to want to. "You may not know it, but your mother tried to kill me once," ninety-seven years ago.

Finn didn't laugh at her attempted joke; he looked in her eyes in what she thought was meant to be an intimidating manner, and she supposed it was.

The Original family were the only vampires on earth stronger than her.

"If you want to see my mother, you'll need to be alone."

---

He glowered at the glass in his hand and did his level best to ignore the grating sound of his brother's voice. He wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else. The world was a large enough place that he could find some quiet corner of it and avoid the sham Elijah was currently calling a family.

They hadn't been a family in a long time.

The last thing he wanted was to stay in the town where his baby brother had died and where his half-brother was exploiting another doppelganger. He didn't want to spend time with his family, and he did not – under any circumstances – want to see her.

He didn't want to see the physical reminder of the woman he had failed, but because he was cursed – there was no other explanation for it – he lifted his eyes and spotted a stunning brunette on the far side of the ballroom slowly turning away from the bar.

Pain gripped his chest when he saw the profile he hadn't seen since 1914. What had been her final thoughts in that bloody cottage? Had she hated him in the end?

He wanted to look away, tear his eyes from her angelic face and stop the torment. He could remember the days when his heart was as black as his name before he had helped her and before she had breathed light back into his soul.

He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. His eyes were glued to her as she finished her turn and his depression threatened to descend when he caught her eyes. From his place on the stairs he couldn't quite make out the shift in her gaze, but he knew her breath had caught and that if she didn't breathe soon she would be in danger of passing out.

She must have realized the fact because she sucked in a rush of air and her chest rose. The light caught a glint of silver around her neck and suddenly it was his turn to be breathless.

Elijah's smooth voice broke him from her spell.

"If you could all find yourselves a partner, and please join us in the ballroom."

For a second he stood frozen on the stairs with his eyes trained on her, but then she moved. She made it precisely three steps before her path was blocked by the raven-haired vampire he had met earlier. He hurried to descend the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going?" Rebekah arched a perfect brow.

"You heard Elijah," he flashed a tight smile, "I've got to find a partner." He was too focused on the brunette's conversation to notice Rebekah's returned smile.

"Was I not clear this morning?" Damon tilted his head.

"I was invited," she sighed.

He felt his breath catch again when he heard her voice; unfortunately her voice was quickly interrupted by Damon.

"You have to tell me before you walk into the lion's den."

"Why, so you can stop me?" Her hands landed on her hips.

"Yeah," he scoffed.

Kol stiffened when Damon held out his hand.

"It would be rude not to dance," he smiled.

Kol came to a stop beside Damon, giving the extended hand a pointed look. He couldn't stop the condescending tone when he addressed him.

"That is no way to ask a woman to dance," he turned his eyes back to her and grasped her hand. "Allow me to formally introduce myself, Kol Mikaelson," he kissed her knuckles and heard her heart skip, "at your service, darling."

Damon looked from her to Kol with narrowed eyes and an open mouth.

"You're not seriously considering this," he scoffed, glaring when she didn't remove her hand from Kol's grip.

Kol ignored Damon in favor of her. He didn't know how she was in front of him, or how she had gotten the locket, but he fully intended to find out.

"Would you do me the honour of joining me in a dance?"

"I'd be delighted…"

"Elena," Damon snapped.

"You should find a partner Damon," she turned her cool gaze on him, but for Kol she had a smile. "I feel like I've been waiting ninety-seven year for a good partner."

She placed her gloved palm on the back of Kol's hand and stepped out onto the dancefloor. She heard Damon's voice when she was still in human ear shot.

"I'll catch you when we change partners."

"No, he won't," Kol smirked. He took his place and bowed at the waist. "I promise you that, darling."

"Right," Elena dropped into a short curtsey, "and you always keep your word."

He might have been offended, or thought that she was if not for the teasing tilt of her mouth; an expression he never thought he would see again.

"How?" He pulled her close.

She could feel the heat from his palm through her dress; it sank under her skin and pooled in her belly.

"I tend to make friends in the craziest places," she smirked.

"I'd love to hear more about these friends," he moved through the steps of the dance with ease.

"What a shame our time together is so short," she sighed dramatically.

He pulled her closer and felt her heart skip. His eyes flickered around the room; Klaus was enamoured with a blonde vampire on the other side of the floor.

"Do you trust me?" He met her eyes.

"Well," Elena tilted her head, biting her lip to hide her smile, "we did just meet."

"Take a leap of faith, darling," He cocked his head to the side as the music swelled; thirty seconds and it would be time to switch.

She nodded once, imperceptible to the dancers around them. Nobody noticed the rush of air or the suddenly empty spot on the floor until it was filled in.

Rebekah found her way into Klaus' arms for the second round of dancing and immediately noticed the stiffening of his spine.

"Where has Kol run off to?" His eyes narrowed.

"He's been saying that he wants nothing to do with any of us," she rolled her eyes. "He probably used the distraction to run off."

"He was dancing with my doppelganger," he growled.

"It's not all about Elena," she scoffed.

He gave her a look and she made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "Kol's not Elijah; he doesn't go after every doppelganger, but if you must know your precious Elena went outside for air."

Notes:

Here we go :D

Chapter 12

Notes:

I do not own TVD or TO.

This chapter features some smut in it.

2011

---

He came to a sudden stop in a second floor bedroom and pressed her to the solid oak door with his hands on her hips.

She dragged her eyes up from his parted lips to his eyes; concern had flooded the irises. Her gloved fingers came to rest on his broad shoulders and it took every ounce of self-control not to bury her hands in his hair and tug on the silken strands.

"Are you alright?" He breathed, afraid to break the silence and the spell that had descended on them. The thought that she had been playing along with his flirtation and at any moment she would scream for help crossed his mind.

Her scent was entirely human, but one thing she had said stuck out: 'ninety-seven' years. The exact length of time he had 'slept' in his coffin.

"Are you going to be ill?" He searched her eyes. Her name and teasing manner might have been coincidence, but her locket wasn't. He already knew what he would find if he opened it.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I got over any motion sickness I might have had a long time ago."

She ran her fingers over his lapels, flattened her hands on his chest and felt his heart beat against her palm. Between his body and the door she was boxed in place; the look in his eyes suggested he was afraid to let her out of his sight, that if he were to turn away for even a moment she would disappear.

"Are you really here?"

She nodded.

"They told me you were dead," he breathed. He could still picture the scene as Elijah described it. One hand left her hip to cover her left breast – whole and unharmed. Her heart beat fast under his palm and his skipped a beat beneath her hand.

"But you're here," his thumb stroked her collarbone, "you're alive," he inhaled the sweet ambrosia that had haunted his dreams. "You're human…"

"No," she cut him off. With her right hand she unhooked the silver bracelet and lowered it to a nearby shelf.

She knew what he smelt when the charm was gone, but for good measure she allowed the veins beneath her eyes to darken and her irises to flood with red. He didn't say anything and she began to feel self-conscious, fearing that he had only wanted the weak human girl he saved in the cemetery.

"Thierry?" He breathed.

"Safe," she bit the corner of her lip.

"Are you gonna ask how?" She hated the meekness in her voice. She was not some helpless girl anymore; she was a grown woman who against all odds had survived everything life had thrown her way.

"No," he shook his head, "later."

"Later?" She questioned.

"You waited ninety-seven years for a decent dancing partner, darling," he stared into her eyes, "but do you know what I've waited for?"

She shook her head, felt her heart leap into her throat. The intense look in his eyes made something inside of her swoop as warmth grew wherever he touched her.

"You," he murmured.

That was the only warning Elena got before his mouth was on hers. She gasped and gave into her desire, threading her fingers through his short hair and pulling him closer until she could feel his heart against her chest.

The kiss was electrifying, and the heat only increased when he swept his tongue along the seam of her lips and into her open mouth. He stole her breath; he stole her heart and gave back his own as replacement before finally dragging his lips from her mouth and down her throat.

The kisses pressed to her neck were gentle, but no less passionate. He moved lower, groaning as he felt the maddening rise and fall of her bound chest.

"You smell divine," he nudged her collarbone with his nose.

Elena drew his chin up and met his dark eyes; she suspected her pupils were as blown as his.

Their joint breaths all but masked the string quartet a floor below.

She tilted her head and placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, moving to his jaw. She needed him closer. She needed to feel him – feel the way his heart skipped under his skin – so with deft fingers she pushed his jacket from his shoulders, tore his bowtie from his neck and slipped the vest from his body.

"Elena," he groaned. His hands grabbed her hips and as she unbuttoned his shirt he took fistfuls of her full skirt.

His back hit the wall beside his bed.

He grunted, glancing to where his hands were pinned at his sides.

"If you rip my dress," she dragged her mouth down the center of his chest and back up, "you'll have to steal clothes from Rebekah again."

His blood boiled at the mention of his traitorous sister, but he swallowed his anger for the beauty currently nipping at his throat.

"I'll be careful, love," he smirked when she looked up, "promise and I always keep a promise."

She released his wrists from the symbolic hold; they both knew he was a vampire she couldn't best.

She took a step back at his urging and watched him remove his shirt with the utmost care before draping it on a chair. Her eyes followed the rippling muscles in his back until he turned and stood in front of her again.

"Tease," she pouted.

"You could say it's what I was born to do," he flashed an impish grin.

He spun her in his arms at vampire speed and bent to lay kisses on the smooth curve of her throat. A sensitive spot behind her ear turned her knees to water.

"Do you know what you do to me?" His breath fanned over her flushed skin.

"I have a pretty good idea," she rolled her hips. The choking noise he made and the feeling of him through the layers of fabric had desire curling down her spine.

He forced his feet to step away and took a deep breath while reaching for the almost invisible zipper at her back. He pulled it down revealing inch after inch of smooth skin until he could see the entire length of her spine.

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to press her onto his bed and kiss every vertebra until he reached her perfect behind when he would roll her over, spread her thighs and taste her, but then she let the material fall and turned to face him.

She still wore her gloves when she took his hands and placed them on her waist he felt two kings of silk, but the skin under his palms was preferable. Her fingers slid up the length of his arms and dug into his hair before she finally pulled his head down to kiss him.

His large hands pulled her closer and slipped over her body. She moaned and he felt it in his chest; a groan reverberated through him as her hands traveled down the length of his abdomen and pulled his belt free.

She heard the distant sound of voices: Stefan and Damon looking for her, Finn asking Elijah if he had seen her, and Klaus asking after both of them.

She quickened her movements, shedding the last of his clothes.

"What's the rush darling?" He breathed heavily.

"People have noticed were gone."

He chuckled, but allowed her to pull him down on the bed and between her parted thighs; it was the precise place he wanted to be anyway.

"Why should I care about that?" He hooked a finger in the band of her underwear: the last barrier separating them.

Elena blanked for a moment. Her first thought was that nobody could know about her, but that didn't matter anymore, not to her; she had finally found him.

"I don't want someone interrupting us."

---

Stop staring," Damon followed her gaze to Caroline and rolled his eyes, "it's creepy."

Rebekah tore her gaze from Matt and glared at the clueless vampire. She decided to use his assumptions to her advantage – or rather to her brother's advantage; everybody thought she was a jealous bitch, so she leaned into the curve and sneered.

"Of course, she looks beautiful. Nik gave her everything she's wearing."

"Well, you're no dog yourself."

She focused on his features and narrowed her eyes. The corner of her lips lifted.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

"You tried to kill Elena last night," he scoffed, "you don't get compliments."

"Caveman," she snorted. She could remember the previous night clearly. She had left the mansion with every intention of causing the girl some pain, but then she saw the silver locket.

"Where is Elena?" Damon frowned.

---

The music had shifted to something new on the floor below, and she could hear the sound of people mingling in the hall, but none of that mattered to her because Kol's hands were exploring every inch of skin he could reach as his hips shifted.

She moaned, hooked her thigh over his waist and flipped them over. Her hands fell to either side of his head as his found a home on her waist.

He breathed against her lips, groaning as the angle of her hips shifted and she kissed him, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth.

"Bloody hell," he sat up, guiding her hips with an arm around her waist, "you'll be the death of me, darling."

"I'd better not be," she gasped, "I pre…"

He cupped her breast his free hand, scraping his thumb over her stiff nipple, and she forgot for a second what she was going to say. He made matters worse by trailing hot kisses up her throat.

"… Kol…" her whispered voice turned to a whine, "… please…"

"What do you prefer, darling?" He coaxed. "Tell me what you want."

"I wa… I want…" she rolled her hips, "I want you…" she gasped, biting her lip, "… alive… here… with m… me."

"I think I can arrange that," he smirked, flipping her onto her back and hooking her leg over his shoulder.

---

She knew she was there as a show of muscle and that she was supposed to be distracting the Salvatore brothers so they wouldn't get in Elena's way, but Elena had already pulled her disappearing act. Although she doubted her friend had gone to meet with Esther since she had overheard Klaus and Rebekah discussing a missing brother by the name of Kol.

She knew she should be distracting them, but the best thing she could do was wait for them to comb over the ballroom because if she confronted them they would know Elena had planned her vanishing act.

She held her hands in front of her and fingered the diamond bracelet; Klaus' birthday present that said 'sorry-I-sent-your-cheating-ex-to-bite-you-on-your-birthday-I'm-not-that-bad-love'.

She hadn't meant to wear it or the dress, but Elena had asked her late so she had nothing to wear, and Klaus – homicidal maniac that he was – had exquisite taste.

She rolled her eyes when the psychopath in question appeared on her left. She deliberately turned away from him and focused her attention on the horses.

"I'm not talking to you until you tell me why you invited me here."

"I happen to fancy you," he watched her stroke the horse's nose, "is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes," she scoffed, glaring over her shoulder. "What are you doing out here?"

"Why is it hard to believe?" He tilted his head and smiled. "You're beautiful, you're strong, and you're full of light. I enjoy you."

"I'm not yours to enjoy," she rolled her eyes, "and you didn't answer my question."

"You're out here, do I need another reason?"

"I've been out here for nearly an hour alone, so I'm gonna say yeah."

"I was looking for Elena," he relented, "she's pulled a disappearing act."

"Did you ever think that she's avoiding the guy that killed her?"

"Does that mean you know where she is?"

"Somewhere inside," she shrugged. Her eyes narrowed when he nodded and turned towards the mansion. "I thought you 'enjoyed' me."

"I thought you weren't mine to enjoy," he countered, with dancing eyes.

---

She was laying half on top of him with her heart against his chest and lips pressed to his neck, and for the first time in as long as he could remember he felt happy. He forgot about the siblings who were never on his side and the horrendous acts that had weighed on his conscience for years and allowed the peaceful bubble to surround them both.

He dragged the tips of his fingers up her spine and back down with the barest touch until she squirmed against him and giggled.

"That tickles."

"Why do you think I'm doing it?" He smirked. He flattened his hand on the small of her back and rolled her over his body to pin her down. The sheet had been dragged with her and he had every intention of pulling it away to find further ticklish spots, but before he could the door opened.

It closed a second later and they were greeted by a blonde doing her level best to keep her eyes above the cream coloured sheet.

"You really like interrupting us, don't you?" Kol snapped, sitting up and tucking the sheet firmly over Elena's chest.

"The first time was unintentional," she pointed at him. "I bought you as much time as I could, but Nik isn't he only one looking for you now. Elijah's also looking for Elena."

Kol exchanged a look with her, reading the confusion in her eyes.

"What does the noble stag want with her?" He frowned at Rebekah.

"How am I supposed to know?" She scoffed. "All I know is that Elijah is looking for you," her blue eyes turned on Elena, "and you've got about ten minutes before his search moves to the second floor."

"A lot can happen in ten minutes," he turned to Elena, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Unless you want Elijah finding you naked and in the throes you'd better get dressed," Rebekah looked around, reaching for the door knob. "Nik would dagger you for this."

"You'd know all about that, sweet sister," he muttered, "since you were the reason I was daggered last time."

Rebekah stiffened and slowly turned back around.

Elena felt a sudden desire to sink into the mattress and disappear. The last place she wanted to be was between feuding Original vampires.

"I never betrayed you, Kol," Rebekah met his flaming eyes.

"You told them about her," venom dripped from his tongue.

"I nev…"

"Don't lie to me!"

Elena shot up so fast the sheet nearly fell, and she knew she was giving Rebekah a good view of her bare back, but she didn't care.

"Kol," she pressed one hand to his chest. When that didn't work she moved her hand up and cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "Rebekah didn't tell them."

A line appeared between his brows when he turned his angry gaze from his sister to Elena; his look softened for her, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface.

"You don't have to defend her, love," his hand settled on the base of her spine.

"I'm not defending her Kol. I'm telling the truth. Rebekah didn't tell them, and I know because it was Mary Alice." She read the disbelief in his eyes. "She used magic to send Klaus a letter from the cottage – confessed to it when I was inside; actually seemed thrilled at the prospect of me dying."

"If you'd bothered to read my note you would have already known this," Rebekah tore open the door, "I'll be waiting for your apology downstairs."

Elena stood up from the bed, walking around the end to pick up her dress. She fixed the bodice in place and turned her back to him; the zipper was drawn up in silence.

Locating her gloves, she slipped them on and turned around to face him.

"Mary Alice?" He reached for her hands.

"I told you she didn't like me," she smiled sadly.

"But to do that…" he shook his head. "She signed your death warrant."

"My human life was always going to be limited," she squeezed his fingers, "at least when it ended it wasn't permanent. I've got you to thank for that."

"Me?" He frowned.

"I'll tell you later," she smiled. "I've gotta go. Elijah's looking for me and I bet it's got something to do with your mom wanting to talk to me. Where's my bracelet?"

"Side table," he nodded to the door. He stood and started dressing while she went to collect the jewelry. "My mother wants to see you?"

"Yeah," she moved back towards him, hooking the bracelet around her wrist. "Do you have any idea why?"

"None," he shook his head.

Elena stepped into her heels but paused, her eyes draw to the exposed skin of his chest.

He noticed her stare and left the shirt to hang open. "Like what you see, darling?"

"I didn't think I needed to say yes," she smirked. Her hands slipped over his stomach. She tipped her head up and kissed him twice because once wasn't enough.

"You'd better go, darling," he kissed her again, "before I barricade that door and rip off your dress."

"Don't you dare," she gave his chest a playful slap. She snatched a piece of paper from a notebook on his nightstand and scrawled a series of numbers on it before folding it and slipping it in his pocket. "Go apologize to your sister."

"Must I?" He pouted.

"Yes," she reached for the doorknob. "She helped and you accused her. She was actually the one who got Thierry out of the house before Klaus and Elijah got there."

"Fine," he sighed.

Elena smoothed her hair over her shoulder and opened the door. She was halfway down the hall, resisting the urge to go back, when she felt a hand on her elbow. She found herself grateful for the bracelet that masked her scent and Kol's when she came face to face with Elijah.

She knew everyone was going to find out eventually, but she didn't want to have the conversation yet. The 'you're sleeping with my brother' would lead to the 'you're a vampire' which would lead to the 'I left you to die in New Orleans' which would inevitably lead to a slap across his face; she was floating too high for that.

"Elena," he smiled tightly, glancing down the hall, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Sorry," she shrugged. "I got a little turned around," several times… by your brother… forgot which was up for a bit.

"The house is rather large," he met her eyes. "I understand my mother requested an audience with you."

"Yeah," she nodded, "why, is something wrong?"

"Well," he moved to stand in front of her, stopping their path, "her ability to forgive my brother after everything he's done to destroy this family strikes me as a little strange to say the least."

Elena blinked up at him. Now that she was thinking about it she found it a little odd as well; her children weren't particularly forgiving in nature and that was often a trait learned from parents.

"Do you think it's an act?" She felt her mouth turn down; her elation dropped.

"It has me asking questions I never thought I'd ask," he looked over her shoulder before taking a step closer and lowering his voice. "Can I depend on you to tell me what she says?"

Standing so close she didn't know how he couldn't see who she was, or remember what he had done to her in 1914. If she were one of his siblings she would have refused outright, but she wasn't. She doubted her grudge against him would hold much longer, so she nodded.

"Of course," she managed a small smile. "I'll find you later, okay?"

She didn't wait for a response before walking around him and down the hall. The study was easy enough to locate because the door was open; she closed it at Esther's nod and blinked.

When she opened her eyes again she was on the ground floor standing alone amidst a sea of people. She blinked at the crowd and tried to clear the fog in her head; the task was so much work that she didn't notice Elijah sidling up until he was beside her.

"So," he gave her a charming smile, "how was my mother?"

She got a glimpse of the study in her mind and pressed her lips together. She could only come up with one word to describe the woman and associated memory.

"Intense."

"I see," he plucked two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, "and for what reason did she wish to speak with you in private?"

Elijah offered her a glass of champagne at the same moment she noticed Esther on the stairs. A voice whispered in her mind and told her she needed to reassure him, but it didn't sound like her voice.

There was something important she needed to remember, pressing on her brain along with a tingling sensation she knew to be magic.

"Elena?" Her eyes snapped back to him. "Should I be concerned about my mother's intentions?"

She opened her mouth to speak and the voice that came out was hers, but the words were not. She was standing a quarter mile away listening to herself talk to Elijah and wondering where the syllables were coming from because they certainly weren't originating on her tongue.

"She just wanted to apologize for trying to have me killed." Her facial muscles strained under the smile; there was something important.

"So it's true then?"

She strained her memory: candles, blood, a spell…

"She's forgiven Klaus?"

… Frozen muscles, horror, pure terror…

"Elena?"

… 'If one goes'… a needle…

"It's true," her heart skipped a beat. She knew he could hear it, but he didn't get a chance to say anything before the crystal rang and their attention was drawn up.

She welcomed Esther's speech for the distraction it was and took a moment to breathe and search her head for the source of the fog and the reason why she felt like a marionette on strings. She needed to find the puppeteer, but first she needed to pull back the curtain and make sense of the snippets she had summoned.

… 'They all go'… 'They are abominations'… 'Betrayed nature'…

It hit her over the head with the force of a bag of bricks. Esther – the woman talking about the joy of a family reunited p was planning to slaughter every Original vampire by linking them together as one. The question remained of how she planned to do it.

She heard her own voice in her head: 'I couldn't help if I wanted to, and I don't want to'.

'Your blood is only useless to my son'.

Elena's head snapped up; the voice hadn't been from a memory. Her eyes locked on the Original Witch as glasses rose.

"Cheers," Esther smiled at the crowd, raising her glass; something metallic glinted under her pearl bracelet. The call was echoed by a hundred voices.

Elena's eyes fell to the glass in her hand. She had lived for over a hundred years, attended some of the highest parties of New Orleans society and planned even more, but she had never once seen pink champagne in that particular hue.

Her eyes narrowed.

Don't drink the champagne, she thought the words, pushing them over the crowd of people again and again, but nobody showed any sign that they had heard.

Across the room Kol heard the faintest of whispers and stiffened because he knew the voice; it was the same one that had whispered against his skin less than an hour before. He glanced at Rebekah to see if she had heard it too and found her looking sideways at him with the smallest of lines between her brows.

Elena turned back to face Elijah and against her will clinked her glass with his. She prayed he had heard her and lifted the flute of sparkling liquid, pressing her lips to the glass tightly because her tongue still didn't belong to her.

Kol glanced over his shoulder to where she stood with Elijah. Her mouth was too tight to allow the champagne between her lips. He turned his attention to Rebekah and clinked glasses with her.

"Cheers," he smirked, but it didn't meet his eyes. He tipped the glass up and allowed the liquid to touch his mouth, but it didn't pass his lips.

Klaus frowned at the whisper that he couldn't quite make out before shaking it off and drinking the toast. From the corner of his eye he saw Elijah drink.

Elena deposited her glass on a passing waiter's tray after the toast was done and smiled at Elijah before murmuring an excuse and rushing out into the night.

"Elena?"

She turned to see Caroline racing towards her with a sparkling shawl. The blonde was followed closely by Damon.

"Elena," he grabbed her arm, "where the hell have you been?"

"I had a meeting," she glared at his hand.

"You shouldn't have gone alone."

"Are you seriously mad at me right now?" She pulled her arm free when he tugged her towards the cars.

"I'm mad at you because you made a stupid decision like you always do, and put your life in danger," he snapped. "Sue me for trying to protect you."

"I don't need you to protect me," she crossed her arms over her chest, "so just stop it."

"I can't," he stepped toward her.

"Why not?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Because I love you, dammit!"

Her breath caught as the ninety-seven year old memories surfaced. Damon fancied himself in love with her, but time had let her see that what he wanted was a replacement for Katherine that he could control.

"You don't love me, Damon."

"Yes, I do."

"Then you should stop," she met his eyes. The words were cruel, but they had to be said. "I don't love you Damon, and I never will, not the way you want me to."

"About time someone told him," Caroline muttered. She was going to hand the shawl to Elena, but it was pulled from her hands. She watched a dark haired young man drape the glittering material over her friend's shoulders.

"Alright, darling?" His hands held the shawl closed around her front.

Heat curled down Elena's spine at the sound of Kol's voice.

"I'm fine," she sighed, but she could hear her heart skipping. She just kept from leaning back into his chest.

"What are you doing here?" Damon snapped, glaring at Kol.

"Well, it is my family property," he smirked.

"Take your hands off her," he growled.

"Certainly," Kol slid his hands up her arms and kneaded her shoulders, "as soon as she tells me to."

"Well," Caroline cleared her throat, "as fun as I'm sure this verbal sparring match is gonna be, I am tired and I think Elena is too, so we're just gonna say goodnight."

"What she said," Elena nodded, "so as nice as this massage is, I'm gonna need my shoulders back."

"As you wish, love," Kol sighed.

Elena turned around to face Kol and smiled softly, mouthing the words: 'please don't kill him'.

She was halfway to Caroline's car when she heard Damon hiss and shove Kol because he had her scent 'all over' him.

"Keep walking," Caroline gripped her arm. "It's high time someone put Damon in his place."

Notes:

I've left some clues through the story that answer the question of how Esther managed to do what she did. Can anyone guess? :)

Chapter 13

2011

---

Shoving up the sleeves of her oversized sweater proved pointless since they slipped down her arms moments later, but she persisted until her search took on a frenzy that made her fashion worries obsolete. With her pulse slamming in her ears she flipped through the overflow of pages for the fourth time. Each yellowed page held a different image of a dark object imprisoned in the tightly woven fibers.

She forced her limbs to slow down and carefully placed the objects in a pile that she would place in a folder later. There was the devil's star that would cause a thousand cuts, cursed shackles to halt a witch's power – she had loaned them out once when the Voodoo Queens had gotten out of control. There was a diamond, a dagger, a hand of glory and a blood rider. Nearly a hundred objects – most of them dark – were stacked, but there was a single, glaringly obvious, absence.

Her hands shook as she pulled every last page from the grimoire and categorized them: spells, rituals, tools and light objects. She couldn't read the final pages as they were sorted and the absence confirmed.

She took a deep breath, wiped her sweaty palms on her leggings and reached for her cell phone. She flipped to her stored numbers and pressed call. The dial tone stretched out and calmed her heart.

It was a coincidence.

It had to be a coincidence.

It was just in New Orleans.

It had to be in New Orleans.

"-Lo?" His gruff, sleep laced, voice, crackled over the line.

"Hi, sweetie," her stomach clenched, painfully, "did I wake you?"

"No," he cleared his throat.

"Who's it?" A second voice mumbled, muffled by what sounded like a pillow.

"It's my mom," he spoke away from the speaker.

"I did wake you," she chewed her bottom lip. "I'm so sorry, baby. How's Katie?"

"Good," he slowly came awake, "she's half-asleep. What's going on, mom?"

She stared at the piles of magic and pushed her hair back. "It's probably nothing…"

"You're calling at 2am," Thierry tried and failed to stifle a yawn, "it's clearly something. What's wrong?"

"I think one of my objects has gone missing," she sighed. "Could you check and make sure I didn't leave it behind?"

"What am I looking for?"

"A bronze bracelet."

She held her breath, listening to the rustle of fabric and the squeak of bed springs. A series of footsteps, opened doors and the spin of a combination lock passed before he started shifting objects around. She was certain she had locked the more dangerous items in paper, but she had been wrong before.

"I don't see a bracelet," he murmured. "Are you sure it's in your collection? It might have been taken in one of the Saint Anne raids."

"I'm sure the human faction has it," she rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm sorry for waking you." There was a pause before he spoke again; it was a habit he had picked up from her: wait and listen.

"Is everything okay, mom?"

"Its fine, honey. It's gonna be fine. I will sort this out, and then try to find something to help that little girl and then I'll be home," her smile looked strained in the mirror. "How's New Orleans?"

"Are you asking about the city, or the witches?" He chuckled. "The city is as colourful as always, and the witches are whispering about something to do with regaining their power, so its business as usual."

"What are they whispering about?" She frowned.

"Something about enlisting an Original."

"Me?" She guessed, though she was already on the side of magic.

"Not sure, but I'll keep my ear to the ground and let you know if I hear a name."

"Okay," she nodded. "I love you." She hoped the desperation in her eyes wasn't clear in her voice.

"I love you, too."

She hung up and stood, wanting to go slow – to take her time and think things through – but her muscles possessed a mind of their own and urged her to race through the dark house and into the study where she stole five of her dad's old medical files after dumping the contents in the cabinet.

In the kitchen she gathered herbs and spices from the cupboard, candles from the drawer and a metal bowl.

Back in her room she placed the piled pages in separate folders, save for one, and spaced the candles around the room; they lit with a thought and she knelt.

Measured quantities of the herbs were poured into the bowl with precise flicks of her wrist.

This was something she could do. It was something she was good at.

She tipped one of the candles over until the dried herbs caught and bit into her wrist, allowing a few drops to fall into the flames. With her eyes closed she murmured the words that would lift the remaining fog in her head and leaned down to inhale the rising smoke.

"Dekouvri sa kit e pedi," fragrant smoke tickled her sinuses. It washed over her in a tingling sensation that rose from her toes. She cried out as it reached her head and a blinding pain exploded behind her eyes.

She keeled over, pitching to the left and sprawling on the floor. Her wide eyes were blind to the hands that lifted her up onto the bed. Snippets of conversation floated around her, but her darting eyes were focused on something they couldn't see or hear.

"Should we call Bonnie?" Jeremy's eyes snapped up from his sister's unseeing gaze.

"It looks like she did this to herself," Alaric scrutinized the remnants of the spell.

Elena sat up suddenly with a gasp and a colourful curse that would have made a sailor blush. The candle flames flared up six inches and would have caught on her bedding if Alaric hadn't doused that candle with the water glass beside her bed.

Jeremy grabbed her shoulders and knelt on the side of the bed to meet her eyes. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay," she snapped, and immediately apologized for it; it was hardly her brother's fault. She took a deep breath and forced out the words in as calm a voice as she could manage. "I know what Esther wants."

The instantaneous end of her children had only been the beginning. The first act in a meticulous plan to undo the evil she had unleashed on the earth with her actions.

---

"I must admit, Kol, I am surprised at you," Klaus frowned over his glass. "Had any other vampire picked such a fight with you a century ago you would have beaten them bloody and torn out their heart."

"I did cause a good deal of internal bleeding," he turned the page in his book; it was one of the many works of literature he had missed out on.

"Destroying my landscape and breaking his neck is not the same as killing him," Klaus' eyes narrowed. "He's an insufferable fool, so why leave him alive?"

"You know the rules, Nik," he rolled his eyes, "I wasn't about to disappoint her."

"Why did he pick a fight with you anyway?" Klaus leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the arms.

"He disliked the fact that Elena's perfume was all over me," he smirked.

"I told you to stay away from my doppelganger," he growled, getting to his feet, "she is not a replacement for you to toy with."

"I am well aware of who she is," he didn't look up from his book, "and she doesn't belong to you."

"I think you'll find she does," Klaus snatched the book from his grasp.

He blinked at his empty hands for a moment, working his jaw, and sighed. "I think you'll find it has been illegal to own people in this country since 1864."

"Stay away from her, Kol!"

He tilted his head and squinted, pretending to think about it. "No," he hummed. "She's good fun, and getting under your skin is a bonus."

"Don't be possessive, Nik," Rebekah dropped onto the couch next to Kol, propping her feet in his lap, "they just danced."

---

Jeremy ducked, narrowly avoiding the balled up sheet of paper. It joined a piled of large crumpled balls in the hall.

He knelt on the floor across from Elena and held out a bag of blood. After a few days he had grown used to her shift in features and feeding habits, but he flinched when she tore into the bag with a savage bite.

She drained the bad, took a deep breath and allowed her right hand to fly across a blank page, leaving behind a series of bold runic symbols.

Jeremy leaned against the foot of her bed, watching as she repeated the same spell she had been using since the middle of the night.

"Elena?" He propped his elbow on his knee when the blood steeling in the same pattern. "Are you gonna tell me what the problem is? You said Kol wasn't affected by the spell and neither was Rebekah. If it's just Klaus, Elijah and the suicidal one that are going to die then I don't see the problem."

She opened her mouth to explain, but the words stuck on her tongue. Esther had thought everything through, everything, and this was the information she couldn't share because it was the knowledge that would turn the tide of support firmly to the Original family.

"I can't say," her hands fisted her hair, pulling. She wanted to scream it at the top of her lungs, break the link and then slap Kol for coming up with that stupid bracelet in the first place; after that she would slap herself for losing it, but she could have sworn it was in her grimoire yesterday.

"I literally can't say and it's driving me crazy," her head banged against the dresser.

"What can't you say?" Bonnie picked her way down the hall, stepping between balls of paper.

"And is it a 'can't' or 'won't' situation?" Caroline slipped into the bedroom.

"Definitely a 'can't' situation," she groaned, closing her eyes.

"Maybe you can get it out of her," Jeremy got to his feet, making space for the girls on the floor.

Bonnie dropped to sit cross-legged and Caroline held out a latte before joining them. Bonnie frowned at the upside down symbols that meant nothing to her.

"What's on your mind?"

"Esther," Elena sighed.

"Ah yes," Caroline gave a solemn nod, "and what did the Original Witch want? I was gonna ask last night, but I got a little distracted."

"It's hard not to be when Stefan has to carry his 'dead' brother home," Elena rolled her eyes. Maybe it would have been better to not ask Kol to spare him. She had no idea how the ritual would meet its end, but odds were it would be far more painful than anything Kol would have done. "The Original Witch Bitch wants to murder all of her children, and she used my blood to make it possible."

Caroline's brows drew together as she tilted her head. "Are you telling me you willingly gave your blood for a spell that's gonna kill the guy you like?"

"No," she cried, kicking over a bowl of herbs. "I would never help her undo the 'evil' she unleashed on the world. I've gotta find a way to undo it."

"There's no time to change anything," Bonnie folded the sheet of blood soaked paper, "they'll be dead by the end of the night."

"What?" Elena sat up.

"Esther came to ask Abby and I to join her," she frowned at the scattered herbs. "She's gonna channel the celestial energy of the full moon."

"Don't go," Elena wrapped her fingers around Bonnie's wrist.

"Even if I didn't want to it wouldn't matter," she pulled her hand free, "she's channeling out entire ancestral bloodline for power."

From downstairs she heard a knock, followed by Jeremy's voice from the kitchen informing her that he was up to his elbows in soapy water. She stood up slowly, shaking her head.

"You don't know what you're doing Bonnie," her voice shook. "You have no idea."

She shoved her phone in her back pocket and left the room, taking the stairs two at a time and opening the door.

Her brows shot up.

"Elena," he greeted.

"Elijah," she bit her lip and turned a frown to a soft smile.

"I don't mean to intrude. I was hoping you might accompany me."

She looked back over her shoulder to where her brother was clattering in the kitchen and her friends were moving around upstairs.

"I would like to show you something," he added hopefully.

"Sure," she nodded. Her bracelet caught the light when she motioned to the closet. "Just let me grab my coat."

---

Caroline swept up the mess on the floor after the front door closed.

"I don't get it," she blinked, "if she didn't give her blood then how did she get it."

"She might have come to see me yesterday," Bonnie stared at the floor. "She asked me to bring her something from Elena's spell book that would help her in her quest."

"Bonnie!"

"It was to kill Klaus," she held out her hands. "I didn't know she wanted to kill them all."

"What did you give her?" She crossed her arms.

"Some kind of bracelet," Bonnie shrugged. She picked up a blank sheet of paper and made a quick sketch. "It looked like this."

Caroline frowned at the image as Bonnie pulled out her cell phone, and read the text.

"That's Abby; I gotta go."

Notes:

Okay... So this was never part of my plan, but when I was working on the next chapter tonight I came up with a way for Kol to become human again, temporarily, before becoming like Elena with an altered version of his mother's spell.
Now I'm just debating if I should do it. It would change the plot a bit, but not much.

Chapter 14

2011

---

Two slaps – she hugged her knees – she was going to give Elijah two slaps: one on his right cheek and one on his left; one slap for leaving her in 1914 and one for now.

One for dropping her in a giant hole in the ground.

Then again, they would both be dead in a matter of hours along with almost everyone else they knew. She hadn't partaken in the champagne, but apparently she didn't have to.

Unless she could stop it.

Unless she could save the Originals that she loathed.

The ground beneath her shifted, rumbling softly to announce the approach of feet. The clicking echo told her the feet were encased in high heels.

"My jailor arrives at last," she tapped her foot.

"I was giving you time to stage a jail break."

"I thought about it," she hummed, tipping her head back, "but it's quiet down here. My thoughts have enjoyed the solitude."

"I see," Rebekah cleared away some sharp rocks with her boots, "and what have you been thinking about."

"Everything I want to say," She murmured, "and all the things I'll never get to."

"It's true then," Rebekah slid to the ground; tears shimmered in her eyes. "Mother really wants to kill us all?" She swiped at her cheeks.

"She wants to remove the dark blight she unleashed upon the world," she managed a small smile after a derisive snort. "She won't succeed though, thank goodness. She won't pull it off because you heard me. You heard me, and Kol heard me; that or you both have a strong aversion to pink champagne."

"I heard you," she whispered. "Your voice was like this tiny flutter in my mind and I wasn't sure until I looked at Kol. Why would she do this? We're her children! She's supposed to love us!"

"She loves you, Rebekah," Elena extended her leg to nudge the blonde's foot, "I don't know why she's doing this."

Rebekah stared at the spot where their legs touched. There were days, weeks, centuries where she despised her brothers and wished them dead, but the prospect – the looming reality – was heartrending. She didn't want to lose them. She couldn't lose them.

"What are you going to do to stop it?" She spoke in a thick voice.

"There is no stopping it," a hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat.

"You're an Original vampire-witch hybrid," Rebekah snapped. "You're one of the most powerful beings on this entire bloody planet…"

"And your mother is channeling an entire line of witches."

"Then we break the living link," Rebekah slapped the ground with her palms.

"Even if I thought I was capable of killing one of my best friends or her mom it wouldn't make a difference," she shook her head from left to right slowly.

"You are not giving up?" There was a listless light in her eyes, bled dry of all her hope and optimism. She appeared to have aged behind her physical years, a far cry from the radiant girl who had emerged from Kol's bedroom the previous night. "You're the witch who found a way to stop Papa Tunde! If you can do that then you can do this."

"Papa Tunde had less power than your mother currently does and the link with his living sons was an easy enough thing to break once I knew that they were what he was drawing his power from, but your mother is different." Her tone lacked emotion. "The only way to weaken her would be to forcefully remove magic from the line she channels and the only way to do that is to taint the bloodline with an impurity."

"An impurity," Rebekah's eyes narrowed. "An impurity like the one my mother unleashed?"

---

"Hey, Ric?" Caroline slipped into an empty seat across from him. She picked up a paper from the stack and pushed it across the table. "You can just go ahead and give this one an 'A'."

He read the name on the title page before returning to the one on the table. "That would be unfair to the students who aren't here."

"I'm not unreasonable," she reached into her purse, "I will accept a ninety-nine percent."

"What do you want Caroline?" He rolled his eyes.

She unfolded a sheet of paper as large as the Grill's placemat and slid it under his nose. She had used a stick of charcoal from Jeremy's room to shade the page and left behind six words in a language she had never seen.

"I need your help to translate a dead language," she crossed her arms.

Alaric squinted at the paper, scrutinizing the smudged symbols. "That's not a dead language," he lifted his glass, taking a healthy drink. Swallowing he shook his head. "My Elder Futhark is a little rusty though. You might do better to ask one of the Vikings at the bar."

Her eyes cut to the right where the brothers leaned in tense silence. Their hands were curled around glasses and betraying the tight coil of their muscles, poised to strike at any moment and cause a great deal of bloodshed.

She would hate to be caught in that particular crossfire.

"I was really hoping to avoid that," she sighed and snapped up her paper. Squaring her shoulders she strode through the dinner crowd.

"Caroline," Klaus greeted, eyes lighting up when he saw her. "Join us for a drink, love?"

"I'd rather die of thirst," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. She corrected her motion when she caught it and turned toward Kol instead.

"I didn't even want to join you for a drink," he snorted.

"Then why did you?" She crossed her arms, digging her heels in and ignoring the warm tingle of Klaus' eyes on her face.

"Mother insisted we put the bad blood to rest," Klaus spun the glass on the bar between his fingers, "and I insisted it be done away from my recently renovated house."

"Because heaven forbid the crown molding should suffer," she huffed, glancing over her shoulder and catching his eyes.

"So aside from crushing my brother's hopes, what are you doing here, love?"

"I need a translator," she huffed, taking a deep breath, "and I thought 'hey, they're both really old'."

"That's hurtful," Klaus frowned.

"And the truth," Kol rolled his eyes. "What do you need?"

Caroline handed him the page, watching as his eyes narrowed and widened.

"Why do you have a sheet with our names on it?" He caught her gaze.

"Call it a spell transcript," she reached for the bloodstained spell in her purse and handed it to him. "Do you have any idea what this means? Because the witch who did it literally couldn't say, and I think it had something to do with this," she unfolded Bonnie's quick sketch.

Kol spread out the pages on the bar. His heart skipped, turning to ice in his chest as he made the link between the four blood soaked names, and the two that remained untouched.

"Where is Elena?" He met her gaze.

"Elijah came by her house. He wanted to show her something, and I haven't seen her since," she tapped the papers. "What does all of this mean? She was freaking out about it."

Kol folded the pages with a calm he didn't feel. "It means that someone used her blood to link my family together."

"I knew that bit," she tilted her head.

"Did you know she was included in it?" He took a deep breath.

Caroline's mouth popped open, expelling a rush of air. "Elena's linked to all of you?" Her wide eyes darted between the brothers.

Kol nodded at the same time Elijah appeared on Klaus' other side.

"We need to talk…"

"What the hell did you do to Elena?" Caroline cut him off.

"I fail to see how that's your concern, Miss Forbes," he responded in a cool voice, devoid of patience. "This is family business."

"Your family business involves my best friend," she snapped.

"Who will be released when the Salvatore brother's deliver what I've asked," he met her eyes, "and give me the location of my mother's ritual."

"Where is she Elijah?" Kol's voice rose, but remained quiet enough not to alert the humans. "Tell me before I get one of the daggers and shove it through your heart."

"Since when are you so obsessed with doppelgangers?" Elijah's eyes narrowed.

"Since this one is the same one," Caroline shoved the papers in her purse. "Deal with your 'family business'; I'm gonna go find my friend because apparently her life is now tied to yours, and I won't let her die without saying goodbye."

Kol watched her storm off for a second before staring at his older brothers. "What the bloody hell is she talking about?"

"Shouldn't we be asking that question?" Klaus straightened up; clenching his glass so tightly Kol feared it would break.

"Elijah?" His voice dropped to a growl.

"This is not the place Kol," he motioned to the door.

Kol stood his ground until Elijah relented with a sigh.

"Mother is planning on killing us all tonight," he breathed, "with the aid of the moon. Now tell us what Miss Forbes meant."

"Maybe I will," he smirked, "if we live." He turned and was gone, ignoring the sharp voices of his brothers.

Outside he raced to the blonde and bent to pick up her dropped keys.

"Where do we start looking?"

"You're not gonna accuse her of plotting with your mom?" Caroline unlocked the car.

"No."

"Why not?" She opened the door.

"Because," he circled the car. "I know what the bracelet does."

---

"This plan isn't going to include matricide by any chance?" Rebekah wrung her hands together, tugging on each finger as she waited. Elena was taking her good sweet time in the house and the longer she was gone the harder Rebekah's stomach shook.

"If we play this right then nobody has to die tonight," Elena slipped onto the front porch. She unfolded one of the sheets of paper in her hand and reached inside, extracting a glass orb that sparkled in her hand.

"What about…"

"Nobody has to die permanently," she closed her eyes and sighed. Holding out her hand she carefully deposited the sphere in Rebekah's palm. "Be really careful, okay? This thing is super delicate, and it only works once, so don't let it break early."

"Got it," she nodded. Ripping her scarf away she wrapped up the sphere until the glow extinguished and placed the package in her pocket. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she pulled her phone from her pocket, "just give me a minute. I have to make a call."

She watched Rebekah walk to her car from the corner of her eyes as she dialed and pressed the phone to her ear. Vehicles rolled by on the street, muting the rings. She licked her lips and blinked away the flood of moisture. She didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed when she got the voicemail.

"Hey, it's me…" she laughed a strangled sound that was closer to a sob, "I guess you already knew that. I'm sure you've got caller ID, and if you don't then you should get it." She wiped her hand over her sweaty brow; if she didn't pull this off it wouldn't matter anyway. "I… uh…" she pressed her lips together, breathing slowly through her nose, "… I um… I just wanted to say… I just wanted to tell you that I love you, and I'll talk to you soon."

She blinked at the siding that was in need of a touch up and gripped the railing to stay upright. A large palm covered her cold fingers.

"You're a terrible liar, darling."

"It could be true," she swallowed, turning around, "and if it's not, you're the only one who will ever get the chance to call me out on it."

Standing on the ground, he was a few inches shorter so he had reach up to cup her cheek and brush away a falling with his thumb. "Should I be jealous?" He teased, bringing a small smile to her lips.

"That was Thierry," she closed her eyes, "he transitioned in the forties."

"Oh good," his lips brushed her cheek, "I thought I was going to have to fight someone for your hand."

"Don't get too attached to my hand," she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"It's far too late for that, love," he breathed, "because I am very attached and I plan on calling you on your horrible lies for a very long time, so you had best let me in on whatever plan you've concocted with my sister because I will not lose you again."

"How did you…?"

"Caroline showed me a linking spell… well…" he tilted his head, "… a confirmation of a linking spell. Who did that anyway? Actually," he pressed a finger to her lips, "tell me later because I swear to you there will be a later, and just tell me what you want me to do."

She slid one hand down his arm and into her pocket for a second piece of paper. Unfolding it she reached into the fibers and pulled back her hand.

Kol's gaze dropped to the sudden clink of metal and locked on a familiar set of iron shackles. "How did you…?"

"Let's just say my physiology is closer to Klaus' than yours," she dropped the restraints in his hand. "Do you remember how to use them?"

"Of course, but do you think I can get close enough to my mother to use them?"

"If you do exactly as I say," she smirked, "then you just might have a chance."

---

Bonnie watched in silence as Finn moved around the salt pentagram with a lighter; torches flared to life, filling the dark with flickering flames and plumes of white smoke.

"The pentagram represents out connection to magic," Esther appeared at her side, "and the salt is the symbol of the earth."

"What about the torches?" She glanced at Finn.

"One to represent each of my children," Esther clasped her hands before her body.

"I thought you only had five children," Bonnie spun in a circle, taking in six torches.

"Perhaps you are miscounting," Esther suggested, raising her chin. "If you slow down I am certain you will find five. It's easy to miscount when identical items are in a circle."

Bonnie blinked, discovering the Original Witch was right; which was odd because she had been certain there had been six. She had even counted as Finn lit them.

"What's the spell you're doing?" She shook her head.

"As the witch who cast the spell that made them vampires I can reverse it, and when they are human again they can be killed. As they are linked as one," she caressed the cheek of her son when he approached, "my brave Finn will be the sacrifice. With his death will come theirs."

"And you're just willing to die?" Abby tilted her head.

"My mother has freed me from an eternity of shame. It's not a sacrifice…" Finn hesitated his smile was tight around the edges, strained as though he had forgotten what a truly happy expression were to look like, "… it's a gift."

---

He couldn't stop his eyes from popping when Kol stepped from a dark green car with a silent brunette.

"Elena?" He breathed.

"Elijah," she nodded curtly.

"How did you get you?" His eyes narrowed.

"I jumped," she pulled off her charm bracelet, stuffing it in her pocket, "and that's twice you've left me in life threatening situations, so if we survive the next hour, remind me to slap you."

Notes:

I had this idea for Finn as well where in he still hates his siblings, but he's not as bad as he was in canon and I left hints for what it was in the last chapter and this one.

Chapter 15

2011

---

She hated physical confrontation and could count the number of fights she had been in on one hand; impressive for a one hundred fifteen year old immortal.

Somehow she knew that it would always be a Mikaelson who would push her to use a second hand for her count, but she had assumed it would be Klaus and that it wouldn't be much of a fight.

She never expected their mother.

A frozen twig snapped under her boot.

"They're coming," Finn's strained voice reached the approaching group.

"No, it's too soon," Esther sounded distressed. "The moon's not high enough."

Good, Elena squeezed Kol's hand, that gives me some wiggle room.

The brothers climbed the small hill to meet with Klaus as she hung back to mentally prepare for what she was about to do by pulling off her gloves and wiping her sweaty palms on her jacket; it would not do to have clumsy fingers.

You can do this, she bounced on the balls of her feet. You can do this. You only have to hold her for a moment.

She steadied her body, spun on her heel and moved to climb the gentle slope toward her fellow Originals.

"Elena?"

A hand gripped her elbow.

---

Esther stood on the edge of her salt circle, nodding solemnly to her sons. Elijah was suspicious and Kol too clever by half. She had expected them, but by all counts they should have been later in their arrival.

"Come closer," she motioned them up the last of the slope; the better to see them fall. The metal bracelet warmed against her skin.

"Mother," Finn glowered, standing rigid in the center of the pentagram.

"It's okay," she held her hands, stepping backwards over the salt, "they can't enter." Esther's eyes cut to Kol – ever the petulant child – as he moved closer, testing his boundaries.

The torches flared when his toes touched the line.

He shrank back, lifting his hand as a shield against the rising sparks.

"That's lovely," he brushed a glowing ember from his shoulders, "stuck out here while the favorite son plays sacrificial lamb." He frowned at the impenetrable line; iron weighed down his pocket, made heavier by his impossible obstacle. Oh to be human again. "How pathetic you are Finn."

"Be quiet," Esther's tone left no room for argument, "your brother knows virtue you cannot even imagine."

Through the wind and flames Kol met his oldest brother's eyes; smoke clouded the once clear hazel. Finn loathed his existence from day one. As a human being he possessed a clear moral compass that he had clung to in the beginning, but hatred set in as he was forced to take life after life and never lost his sensitivity to violence.

He had been through more than enough to warrant a blatant desire for death – he was, after all, a vampire suited to the twenty-first century – but it was hard to believe that he would participate in the deaths of his own family when he had fought to keep them alive.

Elijah, ever the confident spokesperson, lifted his voice over the crackle of wood. "Whatever you may think of us," his eyes narrowed, "killing your own children will be an atrocity."

"My only regret is that I did not let you die a thousand years ago."

---

"Is he crazy?" He tightened his hold on her elbow. "Why the hell would he bring you here with the witch bitch?"

"Damon…"

"Let's get out of here," he ignored his brother.

"I'm not going anywhere, Damon," Elena wrenched her arm free. "I'm not leaving until this ritual is stopped."

"Why would you want to stop it?" Confusion swam in his blue eyes. "They'll all be dead in less than an hour. We win."

"Damon…"

"Not now, Stefan," he rolled his eyes, inhaling deeply. A line appeared between his brows. "You're a…" He rushed, pinning her to the nearest tree by her throat. "Katherine," he sneered.

She snatched his wrist, twisting.

He let go with a yelp.

Her eyes narrowed.

He dropped to his knees.

"Okay," she crouched so they were at eye level as she had once done with Thierry, "you've just received some new information so I'm gonna forgive the mistaken identity just this once. Likewise, I am only going to say this once, so listen very carefully, got it?"

Damon nodded, clenching his teeth and breathing through the pain of a broken bone she kept from healing.

"I am a vampire, but I am also a witch, and I am not Katherine. I'm also not going anywhere because nobody brought me here. I brought them." Her eyes flickered between the brothers. "I have made my choice: I am staying to help. You can get on board, or you can get out of my way. Which will it be?"

She released her grip and stood, giving him a moment to heal and stand. Her annoyance flared when he opened his mouth.

"Why do you want to help them?" His lip curled. "This is the stupidest decision you have ever made – and that's saying something. Now come on, I'm not letting you get yourself killed…"

She tore her arm away again, grasped his face and twisted. She felt the hard snap like a stem breaking from an apple.

Lifting her gaze she met Stefan's piercing eyes and cocked an eyebrow.

He glanced down to his crumpled brother and lifted his chin. The odds were that they would both wind up dead, but he wasn't about to fight her; the simple display of strength proved her to be the greater adversary.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Go and help Rebekah," she jerked her thumb toward the old witch house. "Don't be seen."

---

"Does something about this seem off to you?" Bonnie walked backwards. She wanted to kill Klaus more than anything, but there had been six torches and Elena had looked at her like she was an inexperienced child. This was about more than her newest vampire hottie and Bonnie couldn't place her finger on it, but something inside her whispered 'wrong'.

"This place has some serious vibe to it, if that's what you mean?" Abby shuddered as her skin crawled.

"That's just the witch spirits," she caught a shadow in the mirror. "They'll protect us from the Originals, but we should get into the basement." Her shoes left prints in the thick layers of dust coating the rickety stairs. Surrounded on all sides by walls, the basement fell silent and Bonnie looked over her shoulder to the vacant path. "Abby?"

---

"Enough," Klaus growled, pacing the barrier. "All of this talk is boring me. End this now, mother," his lips twisted, "or I'll send you back to Hell."

"What good will that do?" Kol scoffed. "She knows how to get out."

"You would think that after so many years you would have learned how to hold your tongue," Esther's gaze cut from Klaus to Kol. "For a thousand years I have been forced to watch you, felt the pain of every victim, suffered while you shed blood. even you," her eyes swept over her children, "Elijah, with your claim to nobility, you're no better. All of you," frustration laced her tone, "you're a curse on this earth, stretched out over generations. If you've come to plead for your lives, I'm sorry, but you've wasted your time."

---

Bonnie spun around and jumped, pressing her hand over her heart to calm down and keep from shrieking.

"Stefan," she gasped, drawing a deep breath into her lungs. "What's going on?"

He looked down into her eyes, listening to the soft rustle of fabric that signified Rebekah's movement on the floor above; her rushed explanation echoed in his mind.

"Elena's been linked to the Originals," he swallowed, "she's going to die unless we stop Esther."

"What?" Bonnie blinked, not sure if she had heard correctly. "Was that what she couldn't say?" Her heart sank with Stefan's nod. "Shit," she pressed her lips together. "I-I can't stop her Stefan. She's channeling us; every witch in out bloodline, living and dead."

"We know," Stefan exhaled, "the only way to cut her off is if one of you is no longer a witch."

Horror flooded her, turning her blood to ice. She ran for the stairs in a desperate attempt at escape that Stefan easily blocked.

---

Rebekah caught the older woman by the arm and didn't give her a chance to scream, shoving her bleeding wrist into the woman's mouth.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," she snapped the woman's neck.

---

She felt the start of the spell before she heard it – seconds after Stefan left her. The magic burned through her body. Her head snapped up to the full moon above; not quite high enough, but up there close.

She flashed up the hill.

Esther's profile came into view beyond the flaring of torches.

"Shit," she swore under her breath. Squaring her shoulder she summoned all of the power she could and drew her fingers in a pinch over each palm as she uttered the spell. "Imitanter Pupulus."

Esther grunted, eyes dropping to the hand over her mouth that had cut her off mid-incantation. Invisible strings moved her limbs, lifting her fingers and peeling the copper band from her wrist. She was unable to stop her hand from throwing the bracelet out of the circle where it rolled over the uneven ground.

"Phasmatoes morsinus pyrox allum," she muttered behind her hand.

Elena shrieked; her spell fell away as she clutched her head. Her knees gave way. As soon as the pain came it went. She gasped, blinking away the black spots in her vision and lunging before Esther could reach and grabbed the bracelet.

Finn blinked, clearing the fog in his head, but before he could move a muscle a clear voice rang out.

"Get the hell out that circle," Elena glared at him, giving him no choice but to obey the dark object by bending to its influence.

Kol moved around the circle and helped her to her feet with a hand on her elbow. He spared a glance for Elijah and Klaus who were holding Finn's arms.

"I don't recall that being part of the plan, darling," he glanced at the bracelet she had once sworn she would never use.

"I saw an opportunity," she swallowed. Her muscles screamed at her to throw it away, but if she put it down she would lose the hold she had on Finn; it was a shame it wouldn't work on Esther since the woman channeled so many witches.

Elena's eyes shifted to the left reflexively when there was a rush of wind. It was a mistake. The motion caught Esther's attention. Both woman saw the glittering arc of glass. She turned her head with Kol and felt her eyes widen when the orb was redirected.

"Bloody hell," Kol threw up his arm too late.

Glass shattered at the feet of Elijah, exploding in a blinding display of light. Their retinas burned and all anyone could see was white.

Everyone except for Esther who had shut her eyes to plead with the spirits that fled.

Her eyes snapped open and she acted, using magic to pull her nearest son into the pentagram. He stumbled, falling at her feet and struggling to clear his vision. She began her chant again, fast and sloppy in order to finish while she still had the support of her sister witches.

Magic percolated in the air and pulsed, slamming down into his body.

Elijah regained his senses first and turned his head around, taking in the sight of his blinking siblings.

Elena shook her head, dragging her eyes up. Her heart stopped. Her vision tunneled and from a distance she heard her voice shouting.

"Evas elabuk estupey," she threw out her arm.

Esther dropped to the ground under the force of the pain infliction spell, falling into an unconscious heap.

Klaus stared, gaping at the doppelganger and the sight of his younger brother. He exchanged a look with Elijah and Finn, glanced towards Rebekah and Elena and came to the conclusion that Kol, and Kol alone was unconscious.

Elena scrambled to her feet, banging against the barrier that kept her out.

"Kol!" Rebekah joined her.

"Why did the spell only affect him?" Elijah joined them, taking a calculating stance to examine the line of salt.

"Because he and I never drank the champagne," Rebekah growled. "Dammit, he's not moving. Kol!" She banged the barrier.

Elena dropped the copper band. Her teeth sank into her wrist. Hot blood dripped down on the salt. The air shimmered.

She crossed the line and dropped to her knees. "Kol?" She slapped his face gently. "Kol?"

Rebekah's shoulders slumped when she heard him breathing and knelt, reaching into his pocket for the shackles. She fitted them onto her mother's wrists.

Kol groaned, eyes fluttering open. "Am I dead?"

A relieved smile met his question, accompanied by a soft laugh. "No," Elena pushed her hair from her face.

"Are you sure?" He propped his body up, squinting. "I'm fairly certain I'm looking at an angel."

"He's fine," Rebekah snorted. She shoved Kol's shoulder. "That line was not."

He tumbled down into the dirt. "I'll come up with something better when my head stops spinning and I can feel all of my limbs again."

"That might take a while," Finn crouched, picking up the discarded bracelet, "as mother's spell has taken effect."

"But we broke the link," Rebekah's eyes narrowed.

"She would have possessed enough strength affect one," he stood. His hazel eyes met Elena's and for a moment they were locked in a staring match as he spun the discarded copper bracelet between his fingers. "Might I suggest placing this where nobody can access it again? I don't know about you Miss Gilbert, but I dislike having my agency stolen away."

Elena caught the dark object. "I had it locked away, and your mother still managed to get a hold of it. How she got it out…"

"Your blood," Finn drawled, "Niklaus has a small store of it. She needed fresh to link us together, but a few drops of stored blood unsealed the locks and expanded the dark magic in the band so it would hold two people in its power."

"Are you implying that you don't want to kill us all?" Elijah arched an eyebrow.

"I'm morose, not vindictive; though I've every right to be after being abandoned by the lot of you to that damn box."

"You were a lot more fun in that box," Klaus smirked. "Those nine-hundred years were so peaceful without your condescension."

"Knock it off, both of you," Elena snapped, "before this turns into a fight. Personally, I don't want the bruises. No matter how short lived they might be."

"And that brings us to another issue," Klaus glowered down at her. "What the bloody hell are you?"

"Vampire," Elijah cleared his throat.

"Witch," Finn rolled his eyes.

"Original," Rebekah snickered.

"Hybrid," Kol blinked.

Klaus' head snapped around from his siblings to Elena, disbelief in his eyes. Suppressed rage dripped from his tongue. "Am I the only one that didn't know of this?"

"Uh…" Elena tilted her head, murmuring names as she counted off her family and friends before finally nodding. "Yeah, you were the last to know."

"Personally I've known since 1914," Rebekah got to her feet, "but we've got bigger issues tight now than the supernatural transition you two," she pointed to Klaus and Elijah, "pushed her towards."

"Us?"

"What other option did I have when you locked me in the Fauline cottage? And before you can ask, yes that was me – curtesy of a spell gone awry." She stood, helping Kol to his feet. "Who knows what would have happened if you broke the curse ninety-seven years early? I get migraines just thinking about the possibilities."

"Then don't think about it," Kol stood slowly, brushing dirt from his sleeves. "What are the bigger issues, Bex?"

"Off the top of my head I'm gonna say mother, the blood link and you," she shrugged, looking down to her unconscious mother.

"What's wrong with me?" A line appeared between his brows. The confusion was mirrored by the others in the clearing.

"Have any of you smelled him?" Rebekah crossed her arms.

"Oddly enough that's not my first instinct," Klaus scoffed.

"I thought that's what canines did," Elena smirked, glancing at Rebekah. She leaned closer to Kol and caught the scent Rebekah had already caught. "Oh my God."

---

Elena's fingers drummed over her elbows in time with her pounding heart. She stared at the opaque glass through which she could hear the silent sobs of her best friend.

Still night air circled around her, holding her in place as she stood, wavering between action and inaction. To knock or not to knock.

Shakespeare had nothing on her quandary.

Her hand came up, hesitating over the door. With knuckles poised to rap on wood she stood stock still and held her breath before finally knocking.

She was still gnawing on her bottom lip when the light spilled out, nearly blinding her. She closed her eyes, blinking against the harsh glare; it was nothing she couldn't handle and far less than the brilliance of the Omega sphere. If she could take the burning brilliance of a hundred stars she could take a 60 watt bulb.

"She doesn't want to see you," Caroline glanced over her shoulder.

"I doubted she would," Elena heard Bonnie's heart around the corner. "I just… I wanted to tell her that I'm sorry."

"She doesn't want to hear it," Caroline smiled sadly. "Why didn't you tell us what was going on?"

She lowered her eyes and reached into her pocket. The dark energy hummed between her fingers.

"This bracelet forces obedience," her thumb smoothed over the copper. "I had it locked away where it couldn't hurt anybody, but Bo… the page found its way to Esther's hand and with the blood Klaus had on hand she was able to… circumvent my spell. I couldn't tell you. I couldn't tell you I was linked to them, or what would happen if the Originals were to die."

Caroline stared at the innocuous ring of copper, wondering how such a little thing had caused so much trouble.

"Can't I talk to her?" Elena put the object back in her pocket.

"Abby's in transition, 'Lena," Caroline shook her head, gold glittered in her hair. "It's going to be really hard over the next few days and she needs time to deal with it. I think you should give it to her." Her mouth turned down as tears shimmered in Elena's eyes. "I'm sorry. I know you want to help, but put yourself in her shoes. She wanted to get rid of Klaus and to save you because she loves you so much – and she wanted to stop it when she found out what would happen to you – but somehow she was the one that got hurt. You just need to give her time."

"Okay," she nodded slowly; a single tear slipped down over her cheekbone. "You're right… I know you're right. I just… just tell her that I love her, okay? And that I'm so sorry. If there had been another way…"

"I'll tell her," Caroline gripped the doorknob. She took a step forward, calling after her friend.

"Yeah?" She paused on the bottom step, staring down at the ground.

"What would have happened if the Originals died?"

She glanced back over her shoulder, locking eyes with the blonde. She knew what it would have sounded like to Bonnie in that moment – justification for her actions – but Bonnie was out of earshot.

"Esther wanted to wipe her 'mistake' from the face of the earth. She wanted to eradicate the plague she set on the world. Do you really think killing her children would have been enough?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Within twenty-four hours every vampire would have died and thrown the balance of nature into chaos. Kind of makes me wonder what the Bennett ancestors were thinking."

She held Caroline's wide gaze for a moment before turning away. If Bonnie wouldn't let her in for comfort she would hurry back to the mansion.

---

"Here," a water bottle was shoved into his cold hands, "hydrate yourself."

"Is that really necessary?" He pinched the bridge of his nose to alleviate the pressure behind his eyes.

"Yes," Elena slammed the door to the mansion. Her shoes clicked over the marble floor. "When was the last time you drank water?"

She hadn't expected to stump him with the simple question, which told her he definitely needed the liquid.

"Drink your water," she perched on the edge of the couch and pulled a thick file from her purse, "who knows what your immune system is like after a thousand years."

Chapter 16

Notes:

Well... it's been a crazy few weeks y'all, but I finally got the newest chapter done. YAY! :D

I also discovered this new app that I love because I like to handwrite my chapters first (there's just something about the feel of pen and paper that gets the creativity flowing {at least for me}) and the app lets me take a picture of the page and it converts the pen to typing. It saved me four hours in the typing and editing of this chapter.

1919

---

"You're absolutely sure you don't mind?" She fidgeted with her hat and shifted on her toes, setting the simple white skirt to swaying around her legs. Cool air swirled around her exposed ankles.

"Do I mind watching our little heathen?" She ruffled the boy's neat hair. "He is an absolute nightmare, and I am certain we shall have a horrid time."

"I'm not a heathen," he stomped his foot, indignation made adorable by his lisp.

"I was only joking, my darling," she patted his cheek and bit back her laugh.

Confusion flooded his eyes.

"It's like when I tell you to cause endless mischief for your auntie, but I really mean…" she knelt at his eye level, smoothing his sandy hair back in place.

"Be good?" Large blue eyes blinked at her.

"Precisely," she nodded. Some days she struggled to believe he was already six years old. She had never believed her mother, but it was true that time flew by; in the blink of an eye he had grown from a baby to a boy.

"So when I say you're a heathen, I really mean you're a little angel."

He giggled when she tweaked his nose. His eyes snapped back to his mother.

"I will be back after you have gone to sleep; I expect this new warlock to be a long time in his presentation."

"What does he want?"

"I don't know, baby, but I am going to find out," she smiled, "and in the mean time I want you to behave while I am gone."

"Does that mean misbehave?" He grinned.

"Tonight I mean exactly as I say," she laughed. "Now hold still, mister, so I can kiss you goodnight," her eyes sparkled. Leaning forward she planted a soft kiss on his cheek and smiled as he turned his head to return the action. "I love you."

"I love you too, mom."

She gave him one last kiss on the tip of is nose and rose to her feet.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she pulled on her jacket.

"Do not rush. It's important to remain a breast of witch affairs, and who knows, perhaps this newcomer will prove the distraction you've been waiting for and off you the opportunity to truly search the compound."

"It's the only reason I am attending," she took a deep breath. It did nothing for the nerves vibrating in her belly. She paused with her hand on the door.

"Elena?"

She turned back to watch the blonde.

"Don't forget your glamour."

"Right," she nodded, catching her reflection in the mirror. Ancient Latin slipped from her lips and before her eyes she watched as her appearance altered.

"You look the same to me," he crossed his arms.

"That's because you have this," she bent and tapped a golden bracelet on his wrist. She smiled at the band that allowed her son to see her while New Orleans saw Isobel.

---

Her shoes clicked over the cobblestones in a slightly uneven rhythm that leveled out the further she went until she stepped in time with the drum's primal beat. Nearly a hundred people had made the journey to the cemetery and she could see them all crowded around a roaring bonfire.

She found a place in the throng and watched a lone witch dance around the flames to the beat of the Congo drums. She twisted, spun and reveled in the shadows flickering over her face.

Elena observed the assembly and was one of the first to notice the man; tall and dressed in a smart suit of ivory, he cut an impressive, impassive figure. His ebony skin glistened in the orange light, but she took little notice of his distinguished features; the albino python around his shoulders captured her gaze.

He clapped, commanding the attention of the crowd; they fell silent and only the crackle of wood filled the cemetery. He handed the snake to two young men that melted from the shadows.

She squinted at the symbol on the brows of the identical twins; the cross surmounted by two oblique lines was like nothing she had ever seen. Of course, she had only been actively practicing magic for five years and her son didn't leave much time for research.

Her eyes snapped to the man whose voice rang out over the crowd. He possessed an enigmatic voice, and spoke with his hands; he left her with an impression of untold power, and the unknown sent a chill through her.

"Witches of the French Quarter thank you for your welcome; it is good to be among people of the faith," he smiled a disarming smile. "I, too, practice ancestral magic, honoring those who walked the path before us; from them, we draw strength, and you will need strength, for a great darkness is coming. The city your forefathers left you is now overrun by pirates, beasts and vampires."

Her heart pounded; at any given moment she straddled a fence – the line between witches and vampire – and she never knew which side she leaned as she failed to fit wholly in either group. She shifted, glancing at her fellow witches, but nobody bothered with her; nobody knew. A gasp broke from her lips when the man took the python and threw it on the fire.

"I practice other magic as well. Sacrificial magic: channeling power from the lives of my offerings. I use this strength to vanquish my enemies, and I will punish your enemies for their greed." He held out his hands. "In return, you will accept my family into your coven and me as your leader."

---

She paused at the bottom of the stairs, smoothing down her sweater sleeves. "Everything okay? What's the situation with this new warlock?"

Elena worried her bottom lip as she hung up her jacket; her fingers hooked beneath the chain of her locket. "He wants… power… control over the coven, and he promises to smite all enemies of the faith in return."

"One warlock against the Original family?" Skepticism laced her tone.

"He practices sacrificial magic and draws powers from the offerings."

"Should we be worried?"

"There aren't enough animals in the world to grant him that kind of power," she shook her head. "He'll prove a distraction, but I don't think he's much of a threat. The guy just gives me the creeps."

---

2011

---

A hand on her shoulder roused her from an uneasy slumber. She jerked, sending dozens of pages fluttering to the floor. Kol stirred beside her and managed to catch a few crinkling papers before rubbing a sore spot in his neck.

"What's going on?" He rolled his neck, blinking to wake up.

"I could have used another hour or two of sleep," she yawned, rubbing her eyes. AA hard crust dislodged from her tear ducts. Her eyes glanced at the large armchairs where Klaus and Elijah flipped through ancient grimoires.

"I'm sure you desperately need rest," Rebekah in knelt, cleaning the spells, "but your phone has been buzzing incessantly for the past ten minutes... and there it goes again."

She dug the phone free and read the missed message from Jeremy. Three missed calls followed the text. Evidently she was needed at home.

"Everything alright, darling?" Kol stifled a yawn.

"Something at home," she shrugged. "I'll run and see what's going on, and be back as soon as I can. Stay away from sharp objects."

"You realize I am over a thousand years old and I have managed to take reasonable care of myself in that time?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh please," Rebekah scoffed. "Had you been capable of death you would have achieved it a hundred times over. "

"It's a wildly different standard when you're human," Elena squeezed his hand and laughed softly, "so stay away from sharp objects, or perhaps I should be saying that to Klaus."

"You're not funny, Elena." Klaus glowered over the pages of his book.

"I wasn't trying to be," she stood up. "I'll be back soon, and hopefully by then there will be a spell to unlink us. I'd love to slap you both, but I don't want the bruise."

She shouldered her bag, fixing Klaus and Elijah in place with her eyes. "Stay out of trouble."

"You're the one leaving the safety of the mansion," Elijah flipped the pages.

"I wouldn't call the prison you're keeping your mother in safe," she rolled her eyes. "She's powerful enough that she could break through the shackles."

"Why don't you do what you did to your friend's mother: Stop her magic by turning her?" Klaus rolled his eyes.

"You're more than welcome to," she moved backwards to the door, "but I can't. If I turn her we've got a Tyler situation on our hands."

Kol watched her go and stood, looking around the room.

"Where's Finn gotten off to?"

"He said something about looking into mother's spell."

On the other side of town, in the shadow of the old witch house, Finn knelt in the cold grass, traced the faded salt runes with his fingertips and swore under his breath.

---

She plopped down on the couch and watched her friend sip the hot cocoa she had brewed; rich chocolate filled the living room, drifting up to the second floor where Abby slept.

Bonnie's red rimmed eyes drifted shut for a moment and she took the opportunity to study her drawn features. The weight of the world pressed her shoulders into a slump. She had been through the ringer, and as much as Caroline hated to do it she knew she had to push Bonnie a little further.

It would hurt but there were some things that could not be left to fester.

"How long are you going to freeze Elena, out?"

Those slumped shoulders stiffened, and her eyes snapped up flooding with determination as she set her jaw. "She killed my mom, Caroline."

"Rebekah killed your mom," she crossed her legs.

"It was Elena's plan," Bonnie gritted her teeth; Stefan had told her that much.

"What else was she supposed to do?"

"She could have talked to me and come up with another way," her blood simmered.

"She couldn't have told you anything," Caroline scoffed. "That bracelet you stole was able to control her. She couldn't tell you anything." She leapt to her feet and began motioning with wild hands, "she couldn't tell you she was linked or that Esther wanted to kill every vampire on the planet and throw the balance of nature into chaos. Her options were anarchy or one new vampire. Yeah, your mom lost her connection to magic and Originals were behind it, but you're not blameless in this."

Angry tears sprang up in her wide eyes.

"You took her agency when you handed over that bracelet, and she planned the transition of your mother," Caroline deflated a bit. "Gah! I know you two love each other, but you make it hard sometimes."

"How do you know all of this?" Bonnie crossed her arms.

"She told me last night."

"And you just believed her?" Her brows shot up.

"Yeah, why don't you?"

"She's been gone a hundred years," she shook her head. "I don't know that I know her anymore."

Caroline sank down, perching on the coffee table. The sudden weight of her limbs held her in place. In that moment she wished to be anywhere else, so she could sink into herself and sleep, or at the very least shut her mind off for a short time and not have to dwell on the knowledge that she could have died last night, with her luck she was not a part of Kol or Rebekah's bloodline.

"She's still Elena, Bon," she exhaled, closing her eyes. "Her methods have gotten a little more drastic, and her circle has grown a little bigger, but it's still her, and she' as terrible a liar as ever, so I know she's telling the truth."

Bonnie lowered her eyes to the hot cocoa.

---

The car rolled to a slow stop along the curb, forcing Elena to slow her speed at the corner. Power coiled in her tense muscles, unfurling with the measured steps that marked her path home; if she were honest the only thing that made the house home anymore was Jeremy and Alaric. She suppressed the humming energy in her veins, but it still flowed out of her to shimmer in the air.

Above her head a finch broke out in trilling song, unhampered by the steady crunch of frozen leaves and the abomination below his lofty perch.

She moved on, rushing up the driveway passed the second car. She paused for a breath and read the sticker proclaiming the vehicle as a rental. She hurried into the house where a familiar scent greeted her.

"Thierry", a broad smile stretched her face in the kitchen, "what are you doing here?"

"Checking on you," he stood from the table, half-drunk coffee forgotten in his haste. He wrapped his arms around her back and listened to his heart slow. "What was up with that call last night?" "Can't a mother call just to say how much she loves her son?" She stretched up on her toes and kisses his cheek. Her eyes shifted over his shoulder. "Jer, Ric this is...""

"We already did the introductions," Jeremy leaned back in his chair. "Personally, I think I'm a little young to have a ninety-seven year old nephew."

"You need to consider the extenuating circumstances," Alaric reached for his coffee.

"Whatever you say grandpa," he muttered, smirking. Alaric sputtered and thumped his chest, coughing up the drops of hot coffee.

"Mom," Thierry drew her attention back, "what happened? You sounded tense last night."

"You caught that, huh?" Elena lowered her eyes, chewing her lips.

"What was going on last night?" Alaric tilted his head. "Aside from the Original witch wanting to kill her children?"

"Had she succeeded she would have killed me as well as every vampire sired by the deceased Originals, no matter how many times removed." She tucked her hair behind her ear and dropped into an empty chair.

"She was going to kill you?" Jeremy tensed. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I couldn't," she pulled the bracelet from her pocket. I couldn't tell anyone."

"That's what you were looking for yesterday," Thierry reclaimed his seat. "I found the notes in your inventory book."

"Luckily she failed," Elena nodded, "and now I have a month to try and reverse what she did and come up with a way to keep her from trying again. But I'm fine, and I'm sorry I couldn't tell you."

"It's okay" he sighed. "So nothing happened last night?"

"Well," Elena tilted her head, "I wouldn't say nothing."

---

They were arguing again. It was the way of their family when paranoia set in - at least for Klaus. He probably could have spoken his brother's lines perfectly, would have if not for the persistent throbbing behind his brow and gnawing hunger in his body, but even the thought of food brought a swell of nausea.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" Klaus' shout threatened to break his ear drums.

He echoed Finn's response, but his strained voice went unnoticed by his siblings. He rubbed his temples, drawing in a burning breath of air that set his lungs on fire; he pressed his lips together to hold in the hacking cough.

"I found the remnants of mother's spell," Finn dropped the contents of his hand on the low table.

Burnt herbs scattered over the page, but when he tried to read the hastily copied runes the ink blurred and he was swept away with a sudden spinning sensation.

"Kol?"

The soft call came from far away the second was sharper, closer and spoken in his ear. Something white - hair, maybe - flashed in his vision; blue peered into his eyes.

He blinked, but the room failed to sharpen, opened his mouth, but the words refused to come. Through the scratching, burning pain in his chest he heard a horridly we rattle and he knew with sickening certainty that the sound came from him.

At some point a handkerchief had been forced into his hands, and as the violent hacking reached it's end he opened his eyes, regaining just enough focus to comprehend the pale pink spray over an ornately embroidered 'E'.

"That's not good," he muttered. The metallic taste of copper lingered on his tongue. He wiped the cloth over his mouth. It came back red.

He raised his eyes to his silent siblings.

"As I was saying," Finn cleared his throat. "Mother created her spell and left nothing to chance."

"What exactly does that mean?" Elijah lifted the ancient symbols.

"Mother made him human," Rebekah shook her head. Her voice was strangely tight.

"It means she wanted us dead, and she insured it would happen. It means..."

"I'm dying," Kol's quiet voice held their attention; he could feel the truth of it in his bones. His eyes cut to his sister; a hint of a smirk crossed his lips.

"Still jealous, Bex?"

"Don't be so melodramatic," Klaus scoffed, "you're not dying!"

"Aren't I?" He arched an eyebrow, ignoring the irony of being called dramatic by Klaus of all people. His gaze cut to Finn for confirmation while his mind wandered to the only witch who would be willing to help him. He had no idea what she could actually do beyond hold his hand though, not that he would have raised an objection.

"How long do I have?" He ran through the possible options and the ingredients and time required for each, anything viable would need the aid of the full moon which had just passed them by.

"Moonrise."

Kol's heart stuttered. Swallowing he looked up. "Please tell me my hearing is going and that I missed the word 'full' before moonrise."

He was met with a tense silence and a family that would not look at him.

"Bloody hell."

He stood abruptly and swayed; black spots danced across the sitting room, blotting out the look of concern on Elijah's face. A chill swept over him, racing down the length of his spine. For one brief moment he wanted to sag into the supportive embrace of his sister; he longed for his mother, not the bitch who had condemned him to what was sure to be a grisly death, but for the loving - albeit hard - mother of his childhood. But it had never been in his nature to appear weak or seek help, not since the day he had received his arm ring.

So, he blinked the spots away, gritted his teeth, shook off Rebekah's hand and pulled his arm from Finn's grip.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

"You've got twelve hours to live," Rebekah planted her fists on her hips. She yelled after him as he left the room: "that is the opposite of fine!"

"Less then..." Kol's sharp response cut off, replaced by shattering glass. His siblings exchanged a look, a split second, before racing into the hall where he was holding the railing and staring down at a broken vase. "It was on the edge before I reached the table."

"Where are you going?" Rebekah rolled her eyes.

"To get the rest of mother's grimoires," he gestured up the stairs. "I have no intention of dying tonight."

"Excuse me?" Elena's voice drew everyone's attention to where she stood at the door. "You're dying? How are you... what...?" she gestured to the door and her car beyond. "I was gone two hours."

Elijah handed her the paper Finn had brought back, watching as she read through it. Her expletive was covered by Kol's coughing fit.

The page crumpled in her hands as she pushed through the assembly of vampires and pulled the crushed handkerchief from his hands; her eyes widened on sighting the blood her nose had already smelled. Her ears perked up, catching the race of his heart, and under her breath she murmured a spell that slowed the rapid beating.

Kol lowered his eyes; the handkerchief seemed to spin in his hands, or perhaps the hall was spinning around him. The floor shifted beneath his feet. His knees buckled and he fell.

Elena caught him under the arms, lowering him to the stairs. She pressed the back of her hand to his pale brow and found him cold as ice; truthfully she found that more worrying than a fever.

"Please tell me someone has an idea?" She hated the pleading tone of her voice; she hadn't felt so helpless since learning through telegram that Thierry was ill back in the forties; the despair threatened to swallow her whole just as it had then when she realized her loved one was dying and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

"The solution would be to reverse the spell," Klaus passed a glass of water to Kol.

Elena steadied his hand around the glass when it shook. "Thank you so much for stating the obvious," she gritted her teeth.

"Well, nobody else was speaking," he leaned against the wall.

"And you just had to fill the silence," Kol wheezed.

"Drink," Elena scolded him, tipping up the glass, "slowly."

"There is no reversing mother's spell," Finn nodded to the page still in her hand. "The only thing to do would be to turn him again…"

"That would leave him vulnerable," Rebekah shook her head, "not to mention – potentially – hundreds of vampires."

"Would…" Kol coughed, took a sip of water and tried again. "Would it be p… possible to not discuss me as if I'm not right here?"

"He'd be alive," Elijah glanced down at his brother.

"Or I'd be dead," Kol rolled his eyes. "Do you really think that mother didn't think of that possibility?"

"If you would all let me finish speaking," Finn raised his voice to be heard over the din and the hall fell silent. He looked around to make sure nobody else was going to interrupt him before clearing his throat. "Kol is right, mother would have thought of that. I was referring to the spell that made us vampires."

"A spell that requires a witch with mother's blood, white oak, the blood of the doppelganger and the full moon," Rebekah arched an eyebrow. "That's impossible."

"Not necessarily," Elena chewed her bottom lip. "Your mother is downstairs…"

"I turned her actually," Klaus lowered his eyes under her glare.

"… Two hours…" she muttered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Kol is also a witch…"

"I'm pretty sure I lack the power for a spell like that."

"You'd only have to be present for it," Elena waved him off. "Klaus has a store of my human blood on hand – unless you went on a hybrid making spree?" She met his eyes; despite having to crane her head back to catch his gaze, she did not feel small. She nodded when he shook his head. "That's two things then and there is more white oak; a sapling replaced the tree you lot burnt to the ground."

"How do you know this?" Elijah's eyes narrowed.

"Do I look like a normal vampire?" Elena sighed. She rolled her shoulders back, adjusting her stance on the stairs. "A piece of it was used to make me back in 1914; I don't know exactly where it came from, only that it originated somewhere in Mystic Falls."

"Do you remember the cave where we carved our names?" Rebekah glanced between Klaus and Elijah, leaving Elena with the sense that Finn and Kol had been left out of the excursion. "I came across it last night when I was looking for Elena. Carvings have been added to the walls telling of the sapling she mentioned."

"Even if you could find it, darling," Kol braced his back against the stairs, "there is still that matter of a full moon that I will not live to see."

It was Finn who answered her confused expression. Her stomach clenched painfully and she rocked forward, holding her head in her hands; mind racing a mile a minute. Time was a precious commodity that they were running out of.

If only she could freeze it.

She rubbed her forehead with frozen fingers. She needed more time; time to find the white oak, time to prepare the spell, time to reach the full moon.

He would be dead before she could do any of it.

If only she could stop the clock.

What a shame cryonics wasn't a possibility.

She needed some magical council. She needed Bonnie – who wasn't talking to her – or Freya – who was taking a very long nap.

"A very long nap…" she breathed so softly the other vampires only heard her exhale. She lifted her eyes, glancing at the Originals who were tied to her and the one who wasn't; Rebekah met her gaze head on and spotted the determined light before her brothers registered the change in Elena's demeanor. "I have an idea; a crazy, stupid, impulsive idea that is just ludicrous enough that it might work."

Notes:

Thoughts? :D I love hearing from you.

Chapter 17

1919

---

She leaned back on her chaise, crossing her ankles and laying the open book on her thighs. Distraction proved an impossibility; she burned with the desire to be downstairs where the excitement was about to begin, but it was a man's world.

Modern woman or not, there were lines she couldn't cross, and groups that would never allow her admittance.

She hated being the only girl with so many older brothers; she was not a delicate flower. She did not need to be protected; she was every bit as powerful as her brothers, and twice as conniving. They forgot that sometimes.

The century couldn't pass fast enough; she needed back up, support.

Girls had to stick together.

She tipped her head over the arm of the chair, abandoning her novel in favour of eavesdropping.

Nik's self-assured taunting held a greater appeal than the words of Edgar Rice Burroughs. She really wanted someone to put him down a peg or two – her brother, not Edgar.

She was only half listening to Elijah's Prohibition plans when a new voice joined the meeting. The Haitian accent swept over her and she bolted up.

"I am sorry," Elijah's clipped voice came, "but this is a private meeting."

"Yes," the response sounded with dark amusement, "for kings on the city, but I too, am a king, and I have rules."

She crept out of her bedroom and through the hall, tiptoeing down the stairs toward the meeting room. She stood on the edge of the room – hidden by the door jamb – as Papa Tunde exited, flanked by his twin sons.

She melted into the shadows as dread prickled the base of her skull, eyes drawn to the foreign mark etched into their skin.

She peeked into the room to where her brothers gazed into a medium sized leather case and her heart stuttered.

"Well," Nik sighed, "I suppose we'll need a new mayor."

---

She placed the red block with deliberate care so the paint lined up, creating a seamless wall and then slid back on her stomach.

Her bright eyes lifted, examining his thoughtful expression; perpendicular lines appeared between his brows.

"How's that?" She hedged a small smile on her lips.

He leaned back, stroking his chin. She recognized the moment he came to a decision by the short jerk of his head.

"It needs to be bigger."

"Bigger?" She reached with one hand for the box, tipping it up and peeking inside. "I hate to say it, but we're running out of pieces."

"But it needs to be bigger," Thierry frowned at the box, as if that might make the pieces multiply. "It needs to be huge," he motioned with his hands, showing her just how huge, "because our house is huge."

"Oh, we're making our house," Elena sat up. She pursed her lips and gave the box a shake. "We definitely don't have enough."

"Why's our house so big?" He pouted.

"Well, technically it's not our house, sweetie."

"But we live here," he tilted his head and the lines between his eyes returned.

She understood his confusion as the house was the only home he had ever known, and over the years it had become hers, but even after her years and memories she still found Kol's house too big. Had she possessed the means at the time she might have sought something different, but she hadn't and Rebekah had provided a solution.

"We live here because I work here, baby," she smoothed her hand through his hair.

"You work here?" His mouth popped open.

"Yes, I take care of the house," she smiled, "except for the chores you do. Maybe we could make a smaller house."

"I really wanted to make our house," he pressed his elbows to his knees and propped his chin on his fists. "Can we get some more?"

"You'll have to count your money and see if you have enough," she bit back her laugh when he jumped up and bolted for the stairs.

"Thierry Vanchure," she called, standing with her hands on her hips, "you get back here and help clean up your toys."

"Sorry mom," he smiled sheepishly.

Elena knelt and together they put the Lott Bricks back in the box; they came apart much easier than Lego. When the sitting room was clear she watched him hurry up the stairs with the box and moved towards the kitchen to start dinner, but stopped when the door knocker sounded.

"It's me," the quiet call told her she didn't need her glamour.

"It's open," Elena tucked her hair behind her ear.

Rebekah rushed inside. "We've got a problem."

"Is it a simple problem that can be solved with copious amounts of chocolate?" She cocked her head to the left, listening to the clambering steps of her son.

"The mayor is dead," Rebekah hissed. "The warlock delivered part of his body to the compound as part of a demand for tribute. I assume it was his head."

A chill raced down her spine, slinking over her hips to settle in her stomach as a slight quiver; her ring finger dragged along her palm.

"Thierry," she drew a slow breath, glancing over her shoulder, "go play in your room," a smile graced her lips when he started to protest; "I'll help you count after dinner."

She could feel the inquisitive gaze linger for a drawn out moment before he slunk away down the hall. Her eyes snapped to Rebekah as her hand gestured to the kitchen.

"Let's talk."

The mayor is dead; Elena rolled her shoulders back and her neck from side to side. She had never met the man and despised his politics, but then she disliked anyone who would have denied women the right to vote.

"Why Mayor O'Connell?" She opened the icebox and placed the dish on the counter.

"I believe he wanted to make a statement," Rebekah busied her hands by peeling carrots.

"What statement?" She scoffed, sprinkling breadcrumbs on the ham. "I'm all powerful and you should fear me," she dropped her voice in a poor imitation of a Haitian accent.

"You need to work on that. How do you want these cut?"

"Sliced is fine," Elena twisted, turning the knobs on the oven. The hiss of gas cut through the air. "That seems like a stupid way of intimidating Klaus." Her heart ached for the dead man and his family, but she doubted Papa Tunde's actions would have any bearing on the would-be hybrid. The only one who had come close to manipulating Klaus had been Stefan when he threatened to kill her if Klaus didn't leave town.

"Are you really upset about the mayor?" Elena filled a pot with water.

"I'm upset because you said he promised to smite the witches' enemies, and he made no move to smite," she dumped the carrots in the pot. "He proclaimed himself a King."

"Just what New Orleans needs," Elena placed the ham in the oven alongside a dish of scalloped potatoes, "another pompous man in charge, messing with the lives of everyone else."

"Woman should rule the world," Rebekah groaned.

"Give it time, sweetie," she patted the blonde's arm.

"Is that a hint?" Her eyes snapped to Elena.

She lowered her voice, being purposefully mysterious with a twinkle in her eye. "I would never reveal the future."

"Except that one time you did," Rebekah lifted her chin. "Come on, tell me something. It can be your apology for one day stabbing me in the back."

Part of Elena regretted telling Rebekah, but even after learning the decision had never been her's she had still felt guilty; Rebekah had proven understanding... for the most part. Every once in a while she liked to wave the fact over Elena's head.

"Fine, but you don't get to use that again for a month," she waved a wooden spoon as a pointer.

"How about a week?"

"How about I tell you nothing?" She moved the vegetables to the stovetop.

"Twenty-eight days?" She countered.

Elena pursed her lips, exhaling sharply. "I'll take it."

Rebekah leaned over the counter, an eager light shone in her eyes.

"In less than a year prohibition will be the law of the land..."

"Elijah had predicted that."

"Yes, but he doesn't know why. The law will take the country by storm aided in large part by the votes of women."

"Less than a year?"

"It should be on the floor of the house as we speak," Elena wiped her hands on a towel, "are you staying for dinner?"

"I'd love to, but I've got a shift at the sanatorium, and then there is a party at the compound."

"What's the occasion?"

"It's Nik, darling, he doesn't require a reason. Do you think you'll ever take a shift in the sick ward? Your herbs do wonders for pain, but I'm sure you could do more in person."

Elena collected a jar of herbs from the cabinet, following Rebekah to the door.

"I know I can't get sick but I don't want to risk carrying the disease home to him. The germs would cling to my clothes."

"Germs?" Rebekah tucked the jar into her pocket.

"The bacteria that carries the disease," she crossed her arms. "I'm pretty sure it's been featured in medical journals."

"That's not my idea of light reading," Rebekah shrugged. Her expression turned serious. "We need to keep an eye on this Warlock."

"Agreed."

---

2011

---

She flipped her hands back and forth, squinting through the gloom; fine runes stared back, so intricate they were impossible to make out in the dim basement. Breaking the iron bonds would prove difficult with the metal chosen specifically to halt the power of a witch and the runes reinforcing it; she would need a good look in bright light.

Unfortunately both were things she was unlikely to get.

In the far corner the stairs creaked and a light clicked on, blinding her with its brilliance.

That was fine. She knew who it was; there was only one person it would be.

She watched the dark figure. He stalked toward her slowly as his stormy features came into sharp focus. "What kept you so long, Niklaus?"

"I've been busy," his voice rumbled through his chest, "you've made a mess."

Her eyes danced over his healthy complexion.

"Kol is dying because of you."

She heard the struggle to keep his voice quiet.

"You should all be dying," she inhaled slowly. "I was thwarted by that doppelganger," she spat the words. "She should have died at your hand."

"Thankfully she survived," his fingers twitched, itching to curl around her throat. She had lied to him, turned and condemned him, denied him his birth right and tried to murder him; she tried to murder them all.

Her blood was already on his hands, covered under centuries of innocent lives lost. He could do it. She wouldn't haunt him this time. He wouldn't have to lie to his siblings.

"I suppose you've come to kill me again."

The simple resigned statement was more effective than if she had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. 'Again': how effectively it had worked the first time.

"If I do how long would it be before you rally support on the Other Side and come back stronger than ever?"

The ringing silence spoke volumes. A slow smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. "Better to cut you off at the source, don't you agree?"

Klaus waited long enough to flash an innocent grin before he lunged, biting into his wrist and forcing the blood into her mouth. He gripped her chin, registered the horror and revulsion in her eyes and then he crashed into the opposite wall.

When he looked up it was to see Finn standing in his way.

"There has been a change of plan, brother," he crossed the basement at a leisurely pace. "It seems Elena requires that our dear mother remain a witch."

"She was all for murder most foul this morning," Klaus got to his feet, brushing dust from his shoulders in a restrained motion.

A line appeared between Finn's brows and Klaus sighed. Rebekah and Kol would have found the reference amusing and even Elijah would have cracked a smile, but Shakespeare's words sailed over Finn's head.

"Why am I being denied retribution?" He strode forward, pausing only when Finn's hand hit his chest. He jerked his chin beyond his brother's shoulder. "She tried to kill us all!"

"Which is the very reason she needs to stay alive," Finn's eyes narrowed. "Elena has informed me that she requires two things from you to save Kol's life."

He glared at his mother, but rocked back on his heels, eventually turning his expectant gaze to Finn.

"She requires patience where mother is concerned," his jaw ticked when a low growl rumbled through Klaus. "Unless, of course, you don't care-"

"Of course I care!" Klaus cut him off, horror reflected in his eyes.

"You have a strange way of showing it," Finn lifted his chin. Only the fire in his eyes betrayed his rage, making Klaus take a small step back.

He straightened his shoulders, recovering from the shock quickly. Despite what Finn thought he did care what happened, and he would not lose another brother.

"What else does the doppelganger need?"

---

"Are you sure this is going to work?"

Elena spared Rebekah a quick glance – all she could manage without completely splitting her attention. This wasn't as simple as defeating Papa Tunde, or putting a stop to the Voodoo Queens. It was Kol; she had one shot, and if she failed – got so much as a syllable wrong – his life was forfeit.

"Your incredulity is a real confidence booster, Bex," she drew a thick line with charcoal, forming the rune with deliberate care.

"You'll find my faith tends to waiver when sweat forms on your brow," she scowled, crossing her arms.

"It will work." Elena grumbled. "It's just particular, so kindly shut up so I can get it right."

One second of silence ... two... three...

"Have you ever done something like this before?"

"Bekah," Elena's voice lowered to a growl.

"It's not an unreasonable question," she threw up her hands.

Elena finished the final rune and forced her hand to carefully put down the stick of charcoal; knowing Klaus it was some ridiculously fancy over-priced brand.

"Have I ever tied together two lives in order to prolong one?" She didn't wait for Rebekah's nod before shaking her head. "I have not."

"Then how do you know it will work?"

"Because I've seen it done," she reached for a knife. "It's the same spell used on Freya."

"How exactly is it going to affect me?" Kol frowned at the spell. All he could work out was the linking aspect; any further concentration and his head began to spin.

"When the moon reaches its apex tonight you will be dead."

"I was hoping to avoid that," he smirked, but it looked strained around the eyes.

"The spell," she nudged him with her knee under the table, "will put you to sleep so that you won't feel the pain and keep you alive by drawing on Rebekah; you'll be piggybacking off her immortality."

She took his hand, slipping her fingers up to coax his open, and drew the knife across the fleshy part of his thumb. Blood bubbled up, flowing down onto one of the runes. She repeated the process with Rebekah.

"Is this going to make me sick?"

"Careful, Bex, I might start to think you don't want me alive," he snickered.

"I'm just curious," she rolled her eyes, and then scrutinized his pale features. "You look like death."

"Flattering..." he broke off, hacking violently.

"There's a chance my math might be wrong." Elena swore under her breath. She had been hoping for a moment before putting him to sleep for a month, but arithmetic had never been her strong suit.

---

The town of Mystic Falls, situated around miles of forests, failed to leave the impression of a bustling lumber industry, yet the evidence lay sprawled out across the table; everything since 1914 when Elena swore a great white oak stood. The map she drew placed the dreaded tree in the vicinity of its predecessor, but she told him not to waste time in the woods. It was long gone; chopped down for lumber shortly after its power had granted her immortality, or so it seemed.

Many of those early buildings burned to ash in a fire that swept through the town. Twenty-four hours earlier he would have been pleased to leave it at that, but now he needed the only weapon on earth capable of ending his existence.

He loosened his tie, popped the top button of his shirt open and reached for the next record book.

"So, was historian researching the town history not a cover story?"

Elijah's eyes snapped up and he paused mid flip, mouth turning down as Caroline Forbes dropped into a seat across the table. How she had managed to sneak up on him in heels remained a mystery.

"Is it your actual job?" She reached for a heavy book. "Do you have a job? There's got to be something. Eternity would get boring without a sense of purpose. It hasn't been a year and I'm already bored," she flipped through pages, "I wanted to go into journalism – broadcast – but that's clearly not an option anymore. At least not in front of a camera; maybe production..."

"Miss Forbes," he cut her off mid-ramble, impressed when she didn't take a heaving breath. "What are you doing here?"

"Elena texted," she shrugged, "said an extra set of eyes at the archives was needed, and since she is nowhere to be found I assume she wanted me to help you. So, what are we looking for?"

She heaved a sigh when he just stared at her.

"Look, Elijah," she placed her book on the table, "I could have died last night, and the chances of me and a lot of people I care about dying are still pretty high so believe me when I say that I am here to help. Now," she met his eyes, "what are we looking for?"

"White oak," he finally said.

"To destroy, I assume," she nodded.

"Most of it," he lowered his eyes to his book, "but, Elena needs some of it to save Kol."

---

She had started off disliking Finn, but she grew fonder of him by the minute. Her affection for the eldest brother increased every second he kept Klaus from slaughtering their mother, and out of her hair. It was hard enough to concentrate with Kol dying; she didn't need Klaus yelling in her ear at the same time.

Had Finn been able to keep Klaus away indefinitely then he would have a achieved perfection in her eyes, but alas, nobody was perfect.

"Blood!?"

She had barely gotten Kol on the bed before the roar echoed through the house. There was a time when his tone would have filled her entire being with extremity numbing dread.

She was made of tougher stuff now.

She adjusted his arm from where it draped over the edge of the bedspread, placing it at his side. He looked so peaceful he might have been sleeping.

Klaus barrelled into the room, tearing the oak door from its hinges.

"You want your blood!" He bore down on her, expecting her to cower or at the very least flinch.

"No," she lifted her eyes, held his gaze and put extra emphasis on the proper words. "I don't want my blood; I need my blood."

"You're lying," he growled, advancing until they were toe-to-toe, "using trickery so I'll part with the only blood that –"

"How did your mother turn you?" She crossed her arms, nodding when he fell silent. "She used my blood – Tatia's blood; a substantial amount if what I've been told is true, and I will need that blood if I'm going to make this work; keep it from me any you forfeit your brother's life."

Her voice cracked toward the end, and she wasn't sure if it was her mostly calm demeanour or wavering tone that prompted his sharp nod, but the second she saw it relief flowed through her.

Klaus' eyes cut to where Kol 'slept'. "His coffin is downstairs."

"I'm not putting him in a coffin," she shook her head. "It's morbid."

"It would be more convenient..."

"Screw convenience."

"... and safer."

"Is that what you always told yourself?" She muttered.

"What if we have to flee at a moments notice?" He countered, ignoring her dig.

"From who? You killed Mikael, and Esther is tied up in the basement." Something flashed in her eyes when she met his gaze again and motioned to her lover. "The next time that he leaves this room he will walk out."

And with that she left the bedroom to prepare.

---

The tip of her finger drew a line under the Latin writing and symbols, muttering words under her breath and cringing at what even she knew was horrible enunciation. She was stressing the wrong syllables and she knew it.

With a deep sigh she sat back on her bed, resting her head against the wall. She could practically hear the voice in the whisper of wind that fluttered through the curtains, scolding her for getting involved in vampire business and going against nature's will.

She liked to think that Grams was watching her with the exasperated look she used to because of her actions, but she couldn't stop now. Even Grams had worked with vampires when it was in the interest of nature and it was certainly in the best interest of nature to get involved now and undo what she had done.

Now if only she could find the right spell.

Notes:

I was thinking of doing a time jump in the future portion of the chapters to when Kol wakes up, and Elena fills him in on what happened over the course of the month. Thoughts.

Chapter 18

1919

---

She tapped a silver coin against her thigh.

Somehow it always came back to money.

Wealth, power, land; wars had been waged across history over man's desire for those three things. Very few skirmishes could be directly linked to woman – at least in the mortal world – but she wasn't fool enough to believe women were more level-headed. They rarely instigated wars because they lacked the authority to summon the numbers needed for battle, as a result they were often relegated to behind the scenes roles.

Her free hand brushed the fringe of hair from Thierry's brow. His mouth puckered but he remained asleep and she watched his chest rise and fall.

Rebekah kept her in the loop – Bekah always kept her in the loop – but she had already known Papa Tunde was killing left and right; she would have to have been a fool not to notice. Even the humans were catching on. The self proclaimed king had slaughtered humans, wolves, vampires and witches alike.

According to Rebekah, Elijah planned to negotiate a truce with the man nobody could kill – a man who had brought a reign of terror to New Orleans, a man who had brought that terror directly to her door.

She knew both brothers would go to the summit, giving a perfect opportunity to sneak into the compound. She could find Kol and use the dagger to find the others and save Rebekah a nap of her own – it was only fear of Klaus that kept her from waking Kol herself, but she could have him back in twenty-four hours; all she had to do was let Elijah negotiate a deal with Papa Tunde.

He would never be satisfied. She had seen it in his eyes. The man was obsessed with power. He might honour Elijah's terms for a time before he demanded more. Elijah would refuse and cite their former deal. Papa Tunde would return to sacrificial magic.

There was a reason not to negotiate with terrorists.

Her thumb traced the '1987' etched into the quarter, but her eyes never left Thierry.

How long before she saw her son's head on a spike with Tunde's mark?

She knew how to stop him. She knew what to do, but she also knew the cost.

To stop the horror – to save her son – she had to sacrifice Kol and her morals. She could have found another opportunity to get him back because more would arise – of that she felt certain – but to stop Papa Tunde she would have to cross a line that she could never uncross.

---

There were six streets between her and the Mikaelson family and in her personal opinion it was too close, but today it wasn't close enough.

She was meant to be a human woman, so she could hardly pick up her human son and race at Original speed. She could have asked Rebekah for help, but her only friend was at the sanatorium; even in the midst of chaos life went on.

"Mom," Thierry tugged on her arm, "where are we going?"

"I have to talk to someone, baby," she murmured, running a hand back through his hair.

"But we already passed Astrid's house," he frowned and twisted back to point at the unseeing doll a few yards back.

Elena followed his eyes. The dowager had left a single window open the night she died – normally a board was kept on the interior to ward off the cold – and it was through that small space that she communed with Astrid while Thierry played in the yard and Mary-Alice plead her sanity deep within the coven madhouse.

Astrid was her sounding board; her link to the ancestral world of magic. It had been a discussion with Astrid that led to her eureka moment.

"We are not visiting Astrid, sweetie," Elena's eyes flicked back to her path; only three more blocks. Her next words were too low for his ears. "Mommy has to make a deal with a devil."

Three blocks later the compound loomed, imposing on her personal space, demanding that she cower in fear. As an Original hybrid she knew logically that there was no reason for her terror, but there was still a piece of her – buried inside – that screamed 'run'; 'run from him and everything he represents': but a second voice – the louder voice – quoted words that wouldn't be penned for nearly a century – a variation anyway: 'kill the girl, so the woman can live'.

She was not a scared little girl anymore. She was a woman; she had responsibilities – people who depended on her – so she ignored the warnings and old internal alarms. She gripped her son's small hand, walked past the 'M' emblazoned on the wall and came face-to-face with one of the few men capable of sending her head into a tailspin.

"Elijah," she straightened her shoulders. "I'm glad I caught you." Part of her expected to hear her name roll off his tongue in soft syllables, but that was a different Elijah.

"Forgive me," his eyes widened, and then narrowed, searching the far corners of his mind, "have we met?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but was stopped by the arrival of the second man who wreaked havoc on her brain.

"What seems to be the delay, brother?" He clapped Elijah on the back. "It's not like you to keep a man waiting. Who is this?"

Blue eyes flickered to Thierry and back to Elena; recognition passed through the depths. He knew her face, but he couldn't place it.

"Isobel Vanchure," she glanced down when Thierry shifted, half-hiding behind her legs. She wished in that moment for a larger support system that she could trust. Her eyes returned to the brothers. "I maintain one of your properties on the other side of the Quarter."

"Right," Elijah nodded, placing her glamoured appearance, "if there is a problem with the property it will have to wait," he moved around her, "I'm just on my way to a meeting."

Her hand shot out, fingers curling tightly around his elbow. She checked her strength at the last second and kept it at a human level.

"You can't make a deal with Papa Tunde," her eyes flashed.

"I beg your pardon?" He looked with amusement toward her hand.

Klaus' voice held no trace of mirth. "What does a human know of Papa Tunde?"

Her eyes narrowed, flickering to a nearby vase and back; the heavy ceramic flew through the air and came to a stop before it could hit Klaus.

"Do I have your attention?" They dragged their gaze from the hovering vase to her. "Or would you like to check for wires?"

"You may be a witch, Mrs. Vanchure, but that fails to answer my inquiry. Why can't I make a deal?" Elijah watched her with growing annoyance, pulling his arm free with the arrogance of someone whose authority had never been questioned.

"You're over nine-hundred years old and you need me to tell you why giving in to a bully is a bad idea?" Her left eyebrow rose. She ploughed through before either could call her out for knowing their age. "He might want you to think he has all of the power, but he won't until you go through with this. If you give in he'll play along for awhile, but then he'll be right back at it. He won't stop until he controls everything."

"Is it possible you're underestimating his character?" Elijah sighed, deciding to humour her.

Elena searched his eyes for a long moment. "You're not foolish enough to over-estimate Papa Tunde," she shook her head.

"Mom?" Thierry whispered, tugging at her hand. "Who is Papa Tunde?"

"He was the man who came by the house," Elena didn't bother keeping her voice low, nor did she attempt to hide the flash of fear in her eyes.

"The man with the funny accent, and quiet sons?" He frowned.

"Yes, baby."

"He was on the property?" Elijah's brow lowered.

"Yesterday," Thierry chirped, trying to be helpful. "Mommy told me to go to bed," his smile dropped, "even though there was still twenty minutes 'til bedtime."

The way he dragged out the time made it sound like Elena had stolen years off his young life. He brightened a few seconds later.

"It's okay though 'cause Mommy promised we could go see the brass bands next week." Excitement lit up his eyes. "She said the trumpet player is amazing."

"Do you like music, then?" Klaus crouched down. The genuine smile on his lips took Elena by surprise; his mouth was meant to curve in cruel smirks or a manic grins.

"I love music, 'specially jazz," Thierry bounced on his toes, out now from her skirts. "Mommy says when I was little I would only sleep when she played a jazz album."

"And I suppose you're all grown up now?" Klaus tilted his head.

"No," he laughed, puffing out his chest, "but I'm bigger; I'm big enough to play the trumpet."

"I've told you already that your hands are too small," Elena reached for his shoulder.

"We'll just see about that," Klaus' dropped his voice to a solemn level and stood, placing one hand on Thierry's unclaimed shoulder and steering him into the compound. He gestured to a hall beneath a set of stairs.

"The third door on the left is the music room. In it you will see every instrument imaginable; find the trumpet and we shall prove your mother wrong."

Thierry looked back over his shoulder, but took off running when Elena nodded her permission.

"I'd estimate five minutes for you to get to your point," Klaus watched him go before following Elijah's lead and laying an expectant gaze on their guest.

"He came by the property?" Elijah prompted, curiosity winning out over manners.

"I've made no secret of my opposition – I've been wary since the day he came to town. When he knocked on the door he was coming for my head," she inhaled slowly through her nose. She knew he couldn't have harmed her, but without the protections she had placed around the house he could have incapacitated her and taken Thierry.

"Thankfully it's still attached," Klaus smirked, eyes twinkling. "It would be a shame to spoil such a lovely face with that charlatan's mark."

"That mark," Elena closed her eyes to steel her nerves. The next words out of her mouth may as well have been an execution sentence. "His power lies in his marks. In order to channel the energy from his sacrifices he has to draw it through a conduit..." she told herself that the two men were already dead. "If you destroy the conduit you will weaken him significantly."

"And you know where to find this conduit?" Klaus glanced at his brother – the pair had an entire conversation with their eyes in the space between heartbeats – a human wouldn't have noticed.

She wasn't human.

"Ask yourself this," she turned her gaze to the hall when Thierry came scurrying back; Klaus had under-estimated the capabilities of an excited human child. "What is Papa Tunde never without?"

"I found it," Thierry declared, holding up the gleaming trophy.

"Something that bears his mark." There was no question in Elijah's voice.

"Or someone," Klaus gave a pointed look to the child at his feet, struggling in vain to reach the valves with his small hands.

Elena followed his gaze and gave a minute nod; Klaus mirrored the motion then turned a bright grin on Thierry.

"I think your mother might be right; you're not quite big enough."

"I'll never be big enough," he sighed, holding the instrument out to Klaus.

---

The next morning Elena nursed a lukewarm cup of coffee as the sun crested the horizon and cast long shadows through the kitchen. For the first time in her immortal life she had blood on her hands, and even though the information saved hundreds of innocents it still weighed on her mind.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the buzz of the doorbell until the person gave up and began to bang on the door.

She abandoned the nearly full cup and ran to the door. It was a good thing she hadn't removed her glamour the previous night because she didn't think to cast it; lucky since Klaus was on the other side of the door.

"Do you always knock on doors at the crack of dawn?"

"I could hear you awake," he lowered his hand to his side. "I thought it better to knock; you didn't react so well the last time you found me in the entry."

"I was wondering if you remembered me."

"It took some time to come back," he smirked. "You're awake early."

"I haven't been to bed," she admitted. "Between the threats to myself and my son, and the execution I all but ordered last night rest has been elusive."

"Then I come with excellent news," he tilted his head." Your information proved fruitful. Papa Tunde is dead and you may rest easy."

She rocked back on her heels, doubting rest would come.

"Thank you," she lowered her eyes, frowning when she saw the box under his right arm. "What's that?"

"A small token," he held out the box, letting go when she took it.

Elena turned the case over slowly, inspecting the clasps.

"I'm not going to find a severed limb in here, am I?" She looked up through her lashes.

"That would be a highly inappropriate gift for a child," he scoffed, expression softening into something she didn't recognize on his face: gratitude. "Get some rest Mrs. Vanchure, and – should you feel so inclined – drop by the compound tonight for the celebration."

---

2011

One Month Later

---

Senses returned slowly, they always did regardless of whether he had slept eight hours or eight decades under a mystical influence. His limbs tingled, pins and needles signalling the oncoming consciousness.

Pains gripped his stomach, clawed behind his eyes and clung to every extremity.

A muscle spasm wracked his arm, but he barely felt it for the slim fingers that curled around his hand. A thumb smoothed over his knuckles as the pleading whisper traveled along his skin.

"Please..." the voice wavered, on the cusp of breaking, "please open your eyes. Give me some indication that I didn't screw this up. Please..."

Something wet dropped on his knuckles, rolled down his hand and left a trail over his arm.

"I..." his voice cracked, raw from disuse. He swallowed twice, forced his eyes open and tried again; meeting her red eyes and forming each word with deliberate care. "I'm n-not worth crying over, darling."

A tiny giggle burst from her parted lips, wet and hysterical. She let go of his hand and shifted, grabbing either side of his face so she could kiss him; his brow, his cheeks and finally his lips. Tears slipped from her eyes.

He reached with shaking hands and wiped the moisture with his thumbs.

"I mean it, darling," he smirked, "I am not worth your tears."

"You let me be the judge of that, Kol Mikaelson," she touched her forehead to his and moved one hand down to cover his heart. "You earned every tear I shed, and every tear I would have cried and still might if my spell fails."

"You? Fail?" His fingers threaded through her hair. "Never," conviction clung to the syllables.

"So much faith," she closed her eyes. "Clearly you've forgotten our early magic lessons."

"You always got it right in the end." Kol pushed up on his elbow gently, holding on to her all the while. "I've died already, haven't I?"

"The moment I unlinked you from Rebekah," she chewed her bottom lip, hoping his sire line would survive the transition as well.

"Then the first part worked beautifully," his hand slipped down her spine. He hated to let go, but now he knew what the aches were and he had to unless he wanted the death to be permanent. "Shall we finish this?"

Elena nodded, leaned back and reached for a bag of her human blood on the nightstand. She held her breath as he opened the bag and started to drink, sagging only when his face shifted and his body completed the transition.

Kol saw the look on her face when he drained the bag. He reached for her hand and squeezed.

"I never doubted you, Elena Gilbert."

"That's okay," she caught a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth. "I've had more than enough doubt for the both of us."

"Why would you ever..." he paused to pull her thumb into his mouth and clean the blood with his tongue,"...doubt yourself?"

"You've missed a lot," she sighed.

"Then you must fill me in," he wrapped his arms around her waist, marvelling at the strength he sensed in his muscles, "but first..."

Elena laughed as she was deposited on the bathroom counter.

"You couldn't shower alone?"

"Every time I let you out of my sight you wind up in some supernatural mess; it's safe to say that I'm never leaving you alone again."

"You might get sick of me after a few centuries," she warned.

"Never."

---

Elena squeezed the worst of the water from her hair with a towel and leaned back against the headboard, folding her legs beneath her body. Her dark eyes flickered to the ensuite door where the final tendrils of steam curled out, evaporating before they could reach her perch.

"That looks familiar," he flashed across the room and leaned against the headboard beside her.

"Someone got my clothes all wet," she shrugged, pulling a damp curl from underneath his collar. "I had to wear something."

"So you stole the shirt I had for myself?" He cooked an eyebrow.

"It looks better on me," she tossed the towel aside. The tip of her nail traced a tingling line down the centre of his chest towards his belt. "And you look much better like this."

"Why, Miss Gilbert," he put on a scandalized air, "are you objectifying me?"

Before she could answer he flipped her over and pressed her body into the comforter.

"I really love this shirt, darling," his fingers slid over her thigh, working the material higher. "So, despite looking phenomenal on you, I must reclaim it." As he spoke he leaned lower until the last words were whispered against the shell of her ear.

"You know, most people would be eager to get out after a month in bed," she breathed.

"Why would I leave when everything I could ever want is right here?" Genuine curiosity chased any teasing from his voice and eyes.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Four walls can get dull after a time," her eyes sparkled.

Kol turned his head, dragging his nose over her cheek until his lips brushed her mouth. "It is not the walls that interest me." He kissed her softly. "I just want to enjoy the calm before one of my brothers descends with chaos in their wake."

"Your brothers aren't here," her fingers explored the strong muscles in his back slowly, as if she had all the time in the world to memorize how he felt.

"I worked that out when I couldn't hear them."

Kol rolled onto his back at her silent urging. He drank in her appearance with his eyes, staring unabashed at the curve of her cheeks and the beginning of a frown line that would never deepen.

"Did you also work out that they're not coming back?"

She rested her hands on his chest, traced an all but faded scar above his heart and tilted her head. Kol didn't have to look to see what she had found.

"That's where my father ended my human life," his fingers curled around her wrist. His eyes widened after a moment.

"What do you mean they're not coming back? Did mother –"

"No," she pressed her fingers to his lips; a small smile crossed her face. "Everyone is fine... for the most part."

"For the most part?" He frowned, arching an eyebrow. He sat up slowly, holding her waist with one hand. "What exactly does that mean?"

He told himself that nothing was seriously wrong. She would have told him the moment he completed the transition. She wouldn't have waited so long to break the news. If one of them had been hurt she would have said.

"You missed a lot," she shifted, moving to sit beside him, but he held her tight so she settled for resting her weight on his thighs. "What do you want to know first?"

"Start with the eldest. Where is Finn?"

"He left for New York a few days ago. The moment he knew I had things handled he went with Sage; he said something about seeing everything he missed."

"Sage is alive?" Kol tilted his head. He remembered the woman well; after Finn went against everything he believed to turn her, he had made it his mission to learn why. Sage had reminded his brother what it was to be human; she had turned his rare guarded smiles into signs of genuine happiness.

"Yup," Elena nodded. "She has been trying to catch up with all of you for nine-hundred years, and because of her you came this close," she held her thumb and forefinger close together, "to spending eternity in a mystical coma, linked to Rebekah, but since she didn't know what she was doing, and we managed to locate more, I forgave her for burning the white oak. Now she and Finn are off somewhere with promises to check in," she waved in the general direction of New York. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you upset he's not here?"

"A little," he shrugged. "I've barely spent any time with him in centuries, but I can hardly begrudge him for desiring distance. What about Elijah?"

"New Orleans," she licked her lips, "Thierry has been keeping an ear to the ground for me. There were whispers of a witch plotting against an Original, and when I worked out that it wasn't me Elijah went to investigate."

"I see," he nodded slowly, "and what about Nik?"

A line appeared between his brows when her grin broadened into something between smugness and glee. "What did you do, darling?"

"Nothing much," she shrugged, unable to hide her grin, "I just gave him a taste of his own medicine."

"Meaning?" He tried for stern, but her grin proved infectious.

"Well," she looped her arms around his neck. "Bonnie came around – we won't be braiding each other's hair anytime soon; but she accepted my apology and understood why I had Stefan and Damon do what they did. She helped break the link between us and worked with me to cast a spell I'd been working on for decades."

"Oh, really?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded. "We actually did the spell first, and it worked out perfectly. Klaus asked if the unlinking had worked and I suggested we test it. He had barely agreed before I lodged a dagger in his heart."

"You stabbed my brother?" He held his breath. "You stabbed Nik and lived to tell the tale?"

"That spell I was working on was the one you had Astrid and Mary-Alice working on," her heart sped up. "I stabbed him with a gold dagger dipped in white oak ash. Klaus is in a supernatural time-out. Rebekah pushed for a minimum of fifty-two years. Finn wanted to leave him for centuries until he regained consciousness – that's a whole other story. And Elijah thought waking him and letting him know what had happened would be effective enough."

"But he is still asleep though, so what did they agree on?"

"I suggested a century, and to appease Finn I promised to find a way to give him back his consciousness near the end." She chewed her bottom lip. "I'm sure they'd renegotiate if you wanted to."

He leaned back, inhaling slowly.

"I think a century should teach him a lesson and keep him from ever daggering one of us again."

"You're onboard then," she sighed, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. "Although, you should know that I made a few modifications to the spell so the daggers won't affect you anymore – not without altering the base metal."

"Base..." he frowned, "what exactly did you do to me?"

"The same thing Freya did to me – assuming I did it right..." She waited for the moment of realization and saw when it flared in his eyes.

"You gave me back my magic?" He spoke slowly, hopefully.

"I tried," she spun the pyrite ring around with her thumb, "but you're the only one who can tell me if it worked." He stilled and she tilted her head. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you've got performance anxiety," she teased.

He pinched her hip, but didn't correct her. It had been a thousand years since he felt magic in his veins and he couldn't decide if that was the source of the tingle beneath his skin or whether it was caused by her presence or just nerves.

"Hey," she held either side of his face. "It's alright; take your time, and if it helps: the fact that you're alive is a really good indication that I got it right."

He fixed his eyes on the shelf beyond her shoulder and the books that lined it, focusing on a slim red volume. It took more concentration then he remembered using before the book lurched off the shelf, soared across the room and thumped against the mattress.

"Your aim is off; you might want to work on that," she picked up the novel. "Would you like some lessons?"

"Don't forget who taught you," he rolled his eyes. "I'm out of practice..."

"You'll pick it up again," she gave him a small nudge.

"Exactly," he nodded solemnly. He couldn't hold the expression for long though before a grin threatened to split his face. Words of gratitude failed him so he did the only thing he could think to do and kissed her, pouring every emotion he felt into it.

Sheer joy raced through his body and he laughed into the kiss. He pressed featherlight kisses over every inch of exposed skin he could reach.

His elation dropped a fraction when the door swung inwards. Rebekah hopped on the end of the bed and he rolled his eyes.

"Your timing is impeccable, sister," he sighed, but the smile never left his lips.

"I gave you two hours," she shrugged. "Did you get to the bit about mother yet?" Her eyes flickered to Elena.

"Not yet," she twisted to sit against the headboard, smiling softly when his hand slid down to rest on her knee. "I was focusing on the happy news."

"What happened with mother?"

"She disappeared," Elena tucked her hair behind her ear, "reappeared, tried to kill us all again and when that didn't work she killed herself."

"We burnt her body in case she got any ideas about coming back," Rebekah fiddled with a box in her lap.

"I thought you had to have a Mikaelson witch, and while we're on that topic didn't Nik turn mother?"

"Yes," Rebekah turned her eyes on Elena.

She swallowed and fiddled with her ring.

"After I turned I started looking for spells that dealt with time," she admitted quietly. "I found one that allowed me to send someone back a few hours. And before you can scold me, yes, I know crossing into one's own life is dangerous, and I knew, if it came down to it, having you present would work, but I was scared even tied to Rebekah your body wouldn't be able to take the stress of channeling magic, so when Finn volunteered I sent him back to stop Klaus. I've regretted it since your mother made her daring escape."

"And luckily her fear turned out to be unwarranted paranoia. Here," she held out the box.

"Mother is dead," Kol watched Elena take the box and turn it over. "Were there any ill effects from your spell?"

"Aside from the consequences of leaving your mother as a witch no, there were none," Elena shook her head. "Finn knew to stay out of sight until it was done, at which point the past version of him disappeared and I thanked anyone who might be listening that we didn't get caught in a time loop. What is this?" She looked to Rebekah.

"Present from Elijah, sent by express mail," she shrugged.

"Elijah is sending you gifts," Kol arched an eyebrow.

"Aw," Rebekah smirked, "don't be jealous; it was just a fling."

"Not funny, Bex," Elena scolded, but she couldn't help giggling when Kol glowered and mumbled something about not being jealous.

"Kol is three shades of red so I will count it as funny," she hopped to her feet. "I think I'll go take a relaxing bath."

Elena tore into the package as she moved to leave. Gold glittered as it fell, thumping against the mattress, and her heart stopped. Blood rushed from her face.

Wordlessly she picked up the dagger.

She barely heard Kol through the roar of blood in her ears.

Underneath her burning anger lurked the ghost of an emotion she had sworn would never darken her heart again: fear. He hadn't been down long enough to feel beyond vengeance, and immortal or not she didn't doubt Klaus' ability to make her life miserable.

Her eyes flickered to Rebekah and the message was clear; she couldn't be trusted to make the call without screaming into the receiver.

If Elijah knew what was good for his health he wouldn't come within three States of her.

Chapter 19

I do not own TVD of TO.

---

"I'm not sure that distance was the right idea," Elena held her cardigan closed. She wrinkled her nose against the brisk smell of brine that blew off the water. "I haven't run from anyone since I was human."

"Don't think of it as running," Kol pulled their bags from the boot of the cab, "think of it as regrouping."

She tipped the cab driver and went to take her suitcase. Kol snatched it up.

She scowled but followed all the same.

"I don't need to regroup," she stormed through the door he held open. "I can handle Klaus."

"Darling," he shut the door and led her into the bedroom, "don't take this the wrong way, but no you can't."

"I put him down once," she pouted, dropping to sit on the bed. The white comforter was as soft as a cloud and jet leg beckoned her to sink into it.

He put the bags down on the dresser and joined her. His knee nudged her leg.

"You had the element of surprise on your side," he turned her chin toward him with one hand. "He failed to see the trick coming, but he won't underestimate you again. If he even thinks you have the dagger then you won't get within striking distance, and he has nine-hundred years on you so you can't begin to match him in a physical altercation; neither can I for that matter. I couldn't before, and I definitely can't now."

"We have magic on our side," she rolled her eyes.

"How much offensive magic have you learned?" He traced her jaw with his thumb. "How much black magic do you know? Fighting with Nik would require it."

Elena smoothed her hand over his jaw and down his chest, catching his open jacket between her fingers.

"I don't like black magic," she rubbed a metal button with her thumb.

"Neither do I," he tucked her hair behind her ear, "but it does have its uses, however, if you prefer we can stick to offensive magic. I might be immune to the daggers now, but I don't want to be anywhere near Nik until I can hold my own in a fight."

"I wouldn't mind avoiding Klaus for the rest of eternity," she closed her eyes. Her spine chose that moment to check out and she fell, boneless, against the bed.

"I wouldn't mind that either," he chuckled, leaning back on his elbow. He hovered over her and traced the length of her nose with his finger. He could sense her nearing sleep. "However since Nik has taken up residence in the city where the girl you are so desperate to help lives I don't think that is an option. It's also the place that your son calls home."

She peeked through her lashes and saw the line between his brows. She reached up and cradled the back of his neck.

"He loved you, you know?" Her fingers slipped into his hair. "For weeks after I couldn't get him to sleep, not until I found the record you used to play in the nursery at night. Honestly, I think that's what inspired his love of jazz."

"He didn't know me long enough," he shook his head. A part of him had been excited at the prospect of raising that little boy. "It's probably just as well; I would have ruined him. I'd have made a terrible parent."

"You'd have been a wonderful father," she met his eyes.

"Does that mean you'd be open to trying again?" He chuckled.

"What?" Her brows shot up. "You mean another baby?"

"We'd bring this one in through less nefarious means, but yeah," he admitted, surprising himself with his honesty. "Maybe one day..."

"When the chaos dies down?" She tilted her head. "I might get grief from Thierry for waiting so long to give him a sibling, but... but that sounds nice."

"Yeah?" He listened to the crashing waves and her steady heart.

"Yeah," she smiled, "although, most people date longer than a month before discussing kids."

"We had the first one before we started 'dating'," he smirked, tasting the word on his tongue. "Its not the term I would use to describe us."

"How would you describe us?" She mumbled; sleep was beckoning. "How would you introduce me to someone?"

"Ask me a hard question," he teased.

"I'm serious," she shoved his chest playfully.

"Hello," he pretended to address an unseen associate, "have you met the light of my life: Elena?"

She blushed.

"Light of my life?" She blinked.

"That accurately describes you," he bent, kissing the corner of her mouth. "Light," he drew her hand to her heart and then moved it to his, "dark."

"They say opposites attract," she chewed her bottom lip. "Light of my life," she mused, "I like that."

"How would you describe me?"

"I don't know; boyfriend doesn't sound right."

"You can never go wrong with lover," his eyes twinkled.

"Alright," she giggled. "So tell me, lover, why'd you choose Santorini?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he grinned.

He jumped to his feet and pulled her with him, laughing when she protested. "You can sleep later," he promised.

Elena sighed, but allowed him to drag her through the front room and out into the blinding sunlight.

"Santorini is known around the world for many things." he walked backward with his hands on her waist, "the caldera, lava pebble beaches, and witches who practice ancestral magic, but the reason I brought you here was so I could show you this."

He spun her and wrapped his arms around her from behind, smiling when he heard her breath hitch.

Elena stared up the length of the cliff at the buildings that glowed golden in the setting sun.

"It's beautiful..."

"Pales next to you," he murmured into her hair.

"Flatterer," she turned with him and felt her heart skip again as she watched the dazzling display. Vibrant orange and pink filled the sky and reflected off the Aegean as far as the eye could see.

"That's definitely more beautiful than me," she whispered.

"Nothing is as beautiful as you."

---

Music thumped from the interior as the door swung open to allow a couple of tourists stumbled out; they were well on their way to inebriation.

"Ya know," she twirled to stand in front of him, "I'm not really a club kind of girl."

"Do you think I'd waste time on such an inane activity when a young girl's life is on the line?" He covered his heart, eyes sparkling in the night.

"Alright," she snickered. "If you didn't bring me here to dance to outdated, repetitive music, then why did you choose this place?" She gestured over her shoulder.

"Look there," he nodded toward the building.

Elena gave him a curious look, but did as instructed, approaching the concrete wall and running her fingers over the weathered stone until her nail caught in a groove concealed beneath ivy; she pushed it aside and bent her knees.

Kol came up behind her as she studied the symbol.

"It's…"

"Hecate's wheel," Elena murmured. She traced the labyrinth within the circle and then ran her nail around the central spiral. "Rebirth and divine thought," she glanced sideways, laughing at the awe which had slackened his jaw. "What? Did you think I spent ninety-seven years pining?"

"I hope not," he found his voice, "that would have been horrible…"

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

"Not even a little?"

"There may have been some pining," she teased, "but I am an excellent multi tasker, and you left a lot of books."

She didn't realize she was gravitating toward him until the heat from his body penetrated her dress. "What's the significance of the wheel?"

"It's the symbol of the local coven, and the paint was recently touched up, so it's safe to say they are operating inside."

"So we are going clubbing," she smirked, glancing down at her oversized sweater. "I don't think I dressed right."

"You could always leave it at the coat check," he suggested, pulling the open front down and barring her shoulders.

"Uh-huh," she shivered. His hands slipped the sweater from her arms with only the briefest instance of skin on skin contact. "Did you forget to tell me so you could undress me in public?"

"Madam," he feigned outrage, "what exactly do you take me for?"

"A sly fox," she shrugged before skirting around him. She glanced over her shoulder to see him holding her sweater and watching her. "Coming?"

He grinned, following her inside, but by the time he checked her sweater she had disappeared. There was too much noise and too many overlapping scents for his supernatural senses to sort through; any trail she had left vanished under a heavy layer of body spray.

He melted into the crowd to search.

On the other side of the room hearts worked double time in every body and Elena resisted the urge to slap away masculine hands. She hadn't fed since the previous evening and she was hungry.

She turned around slowly, allowing the lingering touch, though it sickened her. She smiled up at the young man and crooked a finger. Utilizing the head tilt and sultry eyes she had perfected in the seventies Elena led him through the crowd until they were hidden in a corner; from there she compelled.

"Relax," her pupils dilated in the gloom, "and don't scream."

She heard his heart slow. He wasn't as tall as Kol – closer to Stefan's height actually – so she lowered her head and inhaled, running her nose over the veins. One could never be too careful; there was a reason she didn't like clubs. One accidental high and she and Marcel had spent a week cleaning the mess.

She didn't smell anything so she cradled the side of his neck.

"What are you doing?" He shuddered when she traced the vein with her tongue.

"Sh," she covered his lips with her thumb. There was a familiar sting in her gums, and then her teeth sank into his throat. She heard the gurgle, but he didn't fight or scream. She pulled back before he lost too much and compelled him to leave, drink some orange juice and forget what had happened.

"There is nothing quite as arousing as the sight of a beautiful woman post feed."

The voice came from over her shoulder, the accent unfamiliar, but the scent ingrained in her subconscious: vampire.

She left the blood on her chin and spun around. He appeared a few years older than her with dark hair, even darker eyes, and a charming smile; if she were seeking a model for Eros he would have been a perfect choice.

He was too perfect.

"I'm with someone," she licked her lower lip.

"You can do better than someone who would leave you alone," he walked her backward, placing his hands on either side of her body, dangerously close to her waist.

"That's a bad idea," she warned. "He didn't leave me alone."

---

Kol made his way toward the bar and was rewarded with another symbol carved into a wooden door in the corner, but no sign of Elena. At least there was no sign of her until someone bumped his shoulder.

He frowned at the man as he leaned over the counter. A moment later a glass of bright orange liquid was handed to him. He downed the juice and Kol spotted twin puncture marks on his throat. Standing so close he could smell her all over the man.

He knew it was just about food, but he couldn't stop the growl when he pictured Elena pressed against another guy with her lips on his neck.

To keep from killing the human she had left alive he turned away and started searching the corners. He found her in the third, trapped in place by a Casanova wannabe.

He slipped through the crush of people. Halfway there he saw the man's face and felt his blood pressure rise. He supposed that answered one of Elena's questions; she had succeeded in suspending his sire line because he knew that face. He knew that face well. The last time he had seen it had been after Rebekah came to him in tears.

He made it to the corner when Elena slapped her hand against his chest. Her tone sent rage flowing through his blood.

"Back off," her eyes narrowed.

Kol reigned in his rage and tapped the younger man on the shoulder, just a little harder than necessary; he had the audacity to sigh.

"I'm busy at the moment," he didn't bother turning.

"No you're not," Elena scoffed.

Kol tapped a little harder.

"Take a hint, fíle," he growled.

"Take your own advice," annoyance flashed in Elena's eyes.

The third time Kol didn't bother tapping. He grabbed his arm and spun him into the wall a few inches to Elena's left. He waited a split second, just long enough for his anger to morph into terror, before he struck; cartilage cracked under the force of his punch, and blood poured from his nose.

"Stavros," he pinned the man by his throat, squeezing when he opened his mouth. "No, no; I talk, you listen, understand?"

Elena tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Do you see this beautiful woman?" He saw Elena blush from the corner of his eye. "If you ever come near her again, without her express permission, I will make what I did in 1427 look like child's play. Have I made myself clear?"

Stavros nodded.

"Good," Kol dropped him, "now get out of my sight before my merciful mood passes."

Elena watched him flash away and then turned to Kol; the question burned in her eyes.

He slid his hand from her shoulder to her elbow as he leaned down and licked the line of blood, dragging his tongue from her chin up to her mouth and inside tasting the remnants of her meal in the sensual kiss.

"He wasn't even that good," he murmured, straightening up.

"I was hungry," she hummed. "Are you going to tell me what that was about?"

He took her hand and led her through the crowd.

"Kol?"

He pushed open the door and led her into blissful silence.

"Kol?" She pulled his hand at the bottom of a set of stairs. "Who was that guy? What did you do to him? He looked terrified? Or should I be asking what he did?"

Something flashed in his eyes.

"Come on," she moved in close, running her hands up to his shoulders, "don't start keeping things from me now."

"It doesn't paint me in the best light, darling."

"I'm pretty sure I've seen you in bad lighting," she rolled her eyes. "Why don't you start with his name?"

"Stavros Kouris," he sighed, lowering his eyes.

"Now we're getting somewhere," she teased, using the tip of her finger to lift his chin. "Why do you hate him? It goes a lot deeper than coming onto me."

"He courted Rebekah in the fifteenth century," he met her eyes. "As a favour to her I turned him."

"Why didn't she do it?" Elena's brows drew together.

"It's a very bad idea to turn someone who has genuine romantic feelings for you, darling; it leads to a sire bond. Rebekah wanted to save him that, but it turned out to be unnecessary. He didn't love Rebekah; all he wanted was immortality."

Elena swallowed. "What did you do to him?"

"You'll remember me mentioning Viking Origins?" He cleared his throat when she nodded. "Are you familiar with the blood eagle?"

Her eyes widened; an image flickered in her mind: a man with his back cut open, ribs broken and spread, lungs outside the body. She remembered reading that the victims rarely made it to the last part; as a vampire Stavros would have felt it all.

"I'll take your silence as a yes, and now you see the monster," he pulled away.

She tightened her grip and pushed him into the wall.

"I see a good brother, who happens to be a brute," she tilted her head, ducking to meet his eyes.

"I can honestly say I wouldn't have done that to someone who hurt a person I love, but that's only because I wouldn't have thought up a torture technique from a thousand years ago."

"You wouldn't have," he shook his head.

"Part of me never wants to figure out which of us is right," she laughed. "Now, let's go see these witches."

They were halfway down the hall when her mouth watered.

She gave a dainty sniff.

"Do you smell that?"

"Blood," he nodded. He moved ahead, pushing open the only door; light spilled out into the hall, but the wood caught on the body of a girl no more than sixteen.

He spared a heartbeat to check for hers before carefully moving the girl to the hall in complete silence. He prepared to heal her but stopped when Elena dropped to her knees; she had her wrist in the kid's mouth before he moved back inside.

There was a second girl dropped over a mahogany table in the corner, and a third sprawled in a pool of her own blood: both dead.

His ears led him to a second door, engraved in ancient symbols sacred to the coven. Inside a human heart fluttered, clinging to life, but he couldn't cross the threshold.

He cleared his throat to gain the woman's attention.

"Witch blood is amongst the sweetest, but four classifies as over-indulging." His breath caught when she spun around and he saw the face her jet black bob framed. Her sweeping lashes fanned out around eyes the colour of ice and just as warm.

"Kol Mikaelson," she purred, running her eyes over his form. "Are my eyes deceiving me, or have you finally returned to me?"

He felt Elena stiffen behind the outer door.

"Would you believe neither, your presence was not expected," he heard the clicks of Elena's boots and glanced sideways when she stopped.

"Running into me is always a surprise," her eyes flickered to Elena, "but a pleasant one. I'm afraid you've come late to the party," she twisted the limp girl around in her arms, "but we might be able to split her three ways; there's little more than a taste left."

"These are children," Elena spat, disgust dripping from her tongue. She tried to enter the room, but was stopped by a threshold.

"It's a sacred space," the woman nodded to Elena's feet, "and these children were some of the most powerful witches in the coven, and," she licked her lips, "delicious."

"Let the girl go, Ariadne," Kol shook his head.

Something shifted in the woman's eyes and she smiled a slow smile.

"Very well," she pulled her hands back, "but it's a true waste of a rare delicacy."

Elena watched the teen slump against the wall, too weak to move further away; without attention soon she would die.

"Now how about healing her," Elena crossed her arms.

Ariadne left the young witch on the floor and sauntered toward the threshold. She tilted her head and blinked up at him through her lashes.

"Friend of yours?" Elena leaned back to examine the symbols for some way in.

"Lover, actually," Ariadne glanced at her.

"Former," Kol shifted on his heels. "It's no use, darling; the only way through this door is with an amulet." His eyes dropped to the metal between Ariadne's breasts.

"Would you like a taste?" She caught a drop of blood with her finger.

"Are you insane?" Elena checked the dead girls, but came up empty.

"He loves witch blood," she smirked, but made sure to stay behind the barrier. "Do you remember the first time we shared? We drained an entire coven and then reveled in the blood."

"You need to stop talking," he gritted his teeth.

"Are you not in the mood to reminisce?" She lifted her hand, reaching for his jacket across the threshold. She gasped in pain.

"He said stop talking," Elena squeezed the wrist until she heard bones creak, "and I'm saying take a hike."

She yanked hard enough to dislocate Ariadne's shoulder and tore the amulet from her throat.

Ariadne cursed. She moved to attack, but her path was blocked.

"Leave," Kol pushed her away, "now." He was mildly surprised when she listened and a second later he was alone with Elena. "She's already gone, love."

He turned around to see her closing the unseeing eyes.

"Fifteen…" she murmured, swallowing a lump in her throat, "maybe sixteen." She swiped away a tear and took a deep breath before carrying the dead girl into the other room.

Kol reached to take her.

"I've got her," she cradled the girl before gently laying her on the floor. "Exquisite taste you've got there," she grumbled, casting her eyes to the door.

"She was different back then," he wanted to reach out, but doubted she would appreciate it at the moment.

"Back when you slaughtered an entire coven," she deadpanned.

Before he could formulate a response three older women and two men raced into the room. They were followed by a teenage girl with blood on her throat.

"That's her," her copper hair gleamed in the light. "That's the vampire that saved me."

"Though we were too late for the others," Kol frowned.

"What are you doing here?" The shorter man asked. "Vampires are not welcome here."

"We were looking for a witch who might help us to understand a ritual known as the harvest," Elena squared her shoulders. "Like if it really works. Do the sacrifices come back? Can you reverse it once it's begun?"

A woman lifted her voice and it rang through the room with authority.

"That knowledge is confidential and sacred, but," she held out her hand, "perhaps we could come to an arrangement."

They exchanged a look, and Kol placed a hand on her hip.

"What sort of arrangement?"

"Agatha," the taller man hissed. "They are vampires."

"Perhaps it has escaped your notice Constantine," Agatha lifted her chin, "but we have a vampire problem. Three of our brightest are dead, and I am willing to exchange information for service."

When nobody objected Elena leaned into Kol's hand and met Agatha's eyes. She thought of Davina Claire, soon to be dead.

"What do you want?"

Agatha glanced down to the dead and back to them.

"I assume you've met Ariadne."

Chapter 20

Elena paced the narrow space between the bed and the dresser. The cave house screamed luxury, but in terms of size it was a hovel in comparison the New Orleans home they had first shared.

She preferred it; he was only a handful of steps away.

She hooked her finger under her locket chain, pulling it from left to right.

She dropped it and slipped into the bathroom.

Through the steam she spotted the gleaming vanity and his watch.

The shower door slid open just enough for him to poke his head out.

"Did you change your mind, darling?” His eyes flickered down her pyjamas. "Decide to join me?"

"No," she shook her head, hopping up on the counter, “but I did change my mind. I want to know; I know I said I didn't want to know, but now I want to know."

"You came in here to discuss my ex?"

"I don't want the sordid details,” she rested her shoulders against the mirror and crossed her arms. "I do want information on her though, and aside from the witches you are the only one alive who can tell me anything."

He closed the shower door to rinse the shampoo out. The sordid details were part of what made Ariadne who she was.

"Are you truly considering doing this?" He turned his face toward the spray. "Killing someone?"

"You don't think I'm capable?" She frowned at the glass.

"I think you were hesitant to use the Devil's Star," he shut off the water.

"I still haven't, but,” she met his eyes when he stepped out, "I have traded one life to save another, and to preserve an innocent life I will do so again. Towel?" She held out her hand and he took the towel from where it dangled from her finger. "How old is she?"

"I turned her in the fourteenth century," he wrapped the towel around his hips, "and before you can ask, no, you can't take her. She is too old and too strong; you got a shot in because you surprised her."

"My bone breaking spell helped,” she smirked.

"I thought I heard her ribs crack." He snickered, placing his hands on her knees and curling his fingers around the sensitive skin behind. "That spell is the reason you won't get near her; she knows you're different."

"Then what is she? How am I going to get close?"

"I suppose I should tell you everything,” he rubbed the back of his neck. "She wasn't always like that. She was a witch, and I happened to enjoy her company."

"I bet you did,” her lip curled.

"Aw, don't be jealous, my love,” he tugged the lace edge of her shorts, "it was just a fling."

She glared and fought back a smile. "Neither you or Rebekah are funny."

"Agree to disagree,” he chuckled. "Her feelings ran deeper than mine; it’s how we learned to never turn someone who cares for us. I still don't know how Finn got around it; perhaps if he had been awake I'd have handled the situation better."

"Why is it a bad idea? You mentioned sire bonds. What are they?”

"Because the sired vampire becomes just that,” he sighed, closing his eyes. "After I turned her she took me to her coven, and this coven happened to worship an immortal condemned to eternal slumber. They said if he awoke he would unleash hell on earth, and they wanted to wake him because he would grant them power beyond imagining. I happened to like the earth the way it was."

"Is this the 'we slaughtered a coven and revelled in the blood story'?" She leaned forward, hooking her ankles behind his back.

"You know I hold witches in high regard,” he ran his knuckles down her cheek. "They make for the greatest allies and the worst enemies, and unless they pose a real threat I never harm them. These ones, though...” he sighed. "They had to die."

"I vented that night to Ariadne: 'Silas could never be allowed to rise' and 'every last witch in the coven needed to die’. I didn't mean it literally, but it didn't matter because she was sired to me."

His eyes glazed over as he gazed into the past. Her voice dragged him back.

"What happened?" She lifted her hands, cradling either side of his face. "Please tell me, or show me. Just don't shut me out, okay?"

He frowned and rubbed the dimple in her left knee. Centuries, countless languages later, and he still had no words to describe the carnage.

"Another Original,” he mused, "I'm not sure I could show you."

"All you have to do is let me in,” she searched his eyes; only closing her eyes when he nodded.

He took a deep breath and lowered his forehead to hers; a second later he felt her presence in his mind and summoned the memory.

Elena gasped, but didn't pull away as she saw the world through his eyes.

She stepped over an older man, barely noticing the dainty bite on his neck. The second body was the one that gave her pause. A wet rock rolled against his/her foot, and it took an embarrassingly long moment before she registered that it was a small heart; the compact body was that of a child younger than five. There were more bodies the further they went, some old, some young and a few barely out of the cradle.

Finally, after Elena lost count of the bodies, they found Ariadne soaked in blood and draining the life from a boy who could have been her brother; she grinned at them.

Elena pulled out of his head, blinking fast to adjust to the bathroom light. She felt his thumbs swipe away her tear tracks.

"I finished off what remained of the coven, but she wasn't the same after. I had unwittingly ordered her to kill the coven she had grown up in: brothers, sisters, cousins... children she helped raise and because she was sired to me she had no choice but to do it. Between the trauma and the euphoria of witches' blood she went a little crazy, and apparently developed a taste for it."

“You left her, didn't you?” Elena cleared her throat.

"I tried. She followed me here to Santorini,” he rubbed her shoulder absentmindedly; “eventually our indiscretions drew my father's attention. I knew my patterns, I knew she could never be reigned in, and I do know that I should have put her down."

"Why didn't you?” Elena chewed her bottom lip.

"Pity,” he met her eyes, "maybe a little guilt. I was young, darling. I didn't know what to do so I told her not to follow me because it was dangerous. It was my misguided attempt to spare her feelings. I thought eventually she would move on."

"And yet," she murmured, lowering her eyes to his chest. She drummed her fingers over his heart for a moment before speaking again. "According to the coven she's been plaguing them for centuries. Something tells me she's too smart to fall for a trap."

"You know," he thought of Ariadne, “a good trap is made or broken by the choice of bait."

---

Locating Ariadne proved remarkably easy. The amulet she had worn since long before he ended her life dangled on the chain he had wound around his palm

The perfect personal effect led him to a patio on the side of the hill.

He looked to the left where the sunset stained sea and sky. He looked to the right where the walls glowed orange. Finally he looked forward.

She sat alone at a narrow table for two next to the railing; blood red nails traced the stem of her wine glass.

He couldn't have set the scene better if he'd tried.

Two months ago the whole thing would have been done in moments.

Now he needed to be smarter. He waited until she checked her phone before he stood behind her back and bent, whispering against her ear.

"So sorry to keep you waiting, darling."

She inhaled slowly, lowering her phone to the table.

"What are you doing here?” She watched from the corner of her eye as he circled around, dragging his finger along her shoulder as he went.

"I thought that was obvious,” he counted three couples in earshot and four more in his line of sight. He dropped into the opposite chair. "I'm here for you."

"Are you kidding me?" She scoffed. "You left me five hundred and eighty-two years ago."

"Actually it was five hundred and eighty-two years, six months and twenty-three agonizing days," he held her gaze as the table vibrated.

"Do you really expect me to believe you were pining," hope flashed in her eyes, "after your little freak show of a girlfriend broke my bones, and you did nothing to stop her? I saw the way you were looking at that holier-than-thou bitch.” She crossed her arms and glanced around the room. "Where is she anyway? Waiting in the wings to magically break my bones?"

"Are you jealous of her magic, or of her?" He reached across the table for her hands, pulling them from her chest. "You don't need to worry about her."

"You looked at her like you'd been wandering in the dark all your life until she brought light into it."

He blinked, but quickly recovered from being stunned by the accuracy of the statement.

"She was nothing more than a replacement for you."

He rubbed the back of her knuckles with his thumb and hoped she didn't hear the way his heart jumped. "Why don't we go somewhere more private and discuss it? We could find the girl she saved and share a drink."

He stood and drew her to her feet, cooking an eyebrow and adopting sincerity. Vulnerability flashed in her eyes and he knew he was close.

They made it to the street before she spoke up.

"You left me,” she slowed her steps.

He could see the deserted alley beyond several dozen bodies. Too far away, not even the dropping darkness would help him get there without being noticed.

"You know I had no choice,” he lifted her hand to kiss. “Mikael was coming. I didn't want you caught up in my family drama; away from me you were safe."

"You never came back," she walked in step with him.

"I'm back now."

She spun, planting her hands on her hips. "Why now?"

He placed his hands on her waist and walked her into the alley, pushing her back against the cooling stone.

No sign of Elena.

"Mikael is dead," he stared down into her eyes. "It's safe for us now."

She chewed her lip. "What about her?"

"What about who?" He lowered his face until he felt her breath. Standing that close he couldn't make out her features beyond dark lashes. "I missed you," he dragged his mouth to her ear and whispered in a husky voice, "let me show you how much."

He felt the shudder race down her spine.

---

"Out on your own...” Elena tipped her head back and sighed. "He's tired of you already."

"Go away Stavros," she ignored him.

"I'd never leave you," he followed.

Elena made a mental note to find the bastard who said ignoring your tormentors worked and rip him or her a few new holes.

The liar deserved it.

"You can't take a hint, can you?" She scoffed.

"You said you were with someone, but now you’re free."

He grasped her wrist, and yanked her into the nearest alley, pressing her into the wall.

"Do you have that short of a memory?” She glared up at him.

"No,” he smirked, "but I have excellent hearing. I don't have to worry about Kol Mikaelson any more since by his own admission you are nothing to him."

The words stung regardless of the situation.

"You're nothing to me,” she glared, shoving him. "Let go of me."

"I don't think so," he smirked.

"I'm warning you –”

He slapped his hand over her mouth.

"I'm warning you," he tapped her cheeks. “Let's call it a lesson in respecting your elders."

She shoved him, earning little more than a dark chuckle and a hand dangerously close to her breast.

She closed her eyes.

"Giving up so soo-"

A flick of her wrist, a snap of bone, and he dropped at her feet.

Opening her eyes, she glared at the man responsible for her tardiness. How many other women had he taught his 'lesson' to?

She dropped to her knees.

There would never be another.

---

"What about that drink?” Ariadne's breath hitched. She tilted her head in the hopes that he would take the invitation.

"Later," he dipped, kissing the hollow of her throat. The wind shifted and he spun her around before she could catch the scent.

Ariadne giggled, and reached one hand behind to hold his neck.

"So how much did you miss me?"

"Such a skilled liar,” a feminine voice drifted on the wind. "I'll have to check later for a silver tongue."

Her eyes snapped open. Panic gripped her chest.

"What is this?” Her eyes narrowed, but before she could turn Kol sank his teeth into her neck. The scream bubbled in her throat.

Elena shoved her hand into the older vampire's chest, meeting her wide eyes as she squeezed the heart.

"Shame you believed him,” she tore her hand back, dropping the heart as he dropped the body.

"Darling," he nodded to her left hand, covered in blood, "who was that?"

"Stavros," she snapped. "Thanks to him I now know part of what you said to get her out here."

She grabbed his shirt, yanking him down and kissing him hard, licking the blood from his mouth. She broke away, breathing heavily.

"If you ever come up with a plan like this one again, I will scratch your eyes out."

"But then how would I see your beautiful face?"

"Kol,” she growled.

"You're adorable when you're jealous,” he grinned. "Come on, my love, lets get our information and then we can engage in purely possessive activities."

---

She dropped the body in an unceremonious heap, taking no pleasure in the thump of dead weight on stone, but there may have been a tiny surge of pride, especially when the second body dropped alongside the first, but she was not about to let them see it.

She had no desire to give them a second vampire problem.

"Ariadne Sagona," she met Agatha's dark eyes, "as agreed; and a little something extra." Elena just held in the urge to kick the dead man in the ribs, but no amount of self-control could have stopped her lip from curling.

"And what was Stavros' crime?"

Elena's eyes flickered to a middle aged woman who she thought was named Sybil, but she couldn't be sure; there had been too many names that she didn't care to remember.

"He got a little handsy,” she lifted her blood covered left hand, “so I returned the favour." She felt Kol stiffen.

"He put his hands on you? He put his hands on you after I warned him?” Rage flashed in his eyes.

“I had it handled," she twisted just enough to see his face. “He really should have specified which organ he wanted me to squeeze."

She returned her attention to Agatha. "I've upheld my end of the bargain, now it's your turn. What do you know about the Harvest?"

Agatha inspected the body between them, kneeling to scrutinize the gaping hole in her chest.

"It's a sacred ritual where we give back to the ancestors an offering of blood."

"I know that part,” she rolled her eyes. "You sacrifice four witches and their magic flows into the earth. I want to know if they come back. I want to know if there is a way to stop the abundance of magic from killing the last girl."

"There is no stopping that which is begun,” Agatha's brows drew together. "Once it has started it must –"

"Be finished,” Elena waved her hand, dismissing the words she already knew, “or else the ancestors will shun the living and the magic will destroy the coven. Does it at least work?"

She didn't want to sacrifice a girl to save the city, but if it came down to one life for millions she knew the choice she would make; no matter how painful.

"You must have faith,” Agatha murmured.

"I'd rather have knowledge,” she growled.

Agatha slowly rose to her feet.

"The only person who could tell you is someone who lived through a Harvest, and the only person who saw one is laid out for viewing,” she motioned to the floor.

Elena froze. Her vision tunneled until all she saw was Ariadne surrounded in a haze of red. Her voice twisted, morphing into sounds she barely recognized as her own.

"What?"

Kol placed his hand on the small of her back.

'You knew what I wanted," she seethed. Electricity crackled over her skin. "You lied to me!"

A lightbulb surged, exploding in a shower of paper thin glass, but only Kol knew the source.

Agatha pulled a piece of glass from her palm, frowning up at the empty socket.

"I promised you information for Ariadne's death, and I have delivered on my end. Now you must leave,” she pointed to the exit, "we have rituals to prepare."

Elena's eyes narrowed to slits and flooded with blood. She knocked away Kol's hand with all of the strength she would have used to swat at a fly and lunged.

Kol might have stopped her if the act hadn't stunned him.

As it happened he could only watch Elena bite and rip, and listen to the horrified screams. Constantine tried a spell, but the beginning of the incantation broke Kol from his reverie.

He yanked Constantine's head to the left, and sank his teeth into his neck. It took seconds to drain him, but in that short time Elena had slaughtered every witch in attendance and torn Agatha apart.

She had taken out the final three elders, and that brought a smile to his face, but he worried she would regret the actions later. Then he saw her face and second guessed himself.

A near euphoric light shone from her eyes, made even brighter by her giddy smile.

Drenched in the blood of those who had wronged her she was magnificent, so when she kissed him he didn't fight it.

When she pawed at his clothes he sped them to the house.

When they cracked the walls he pushed her down on the dining table.

When various pieces of furniture laid in blood stained ruins he took her to bed.

And when the full moon was gone and sun woke them, when she saw the blood, when their high had passed he held her trembling body.

"What did I do?” She sobbed, clinging to his chest. She saw them behind her eyes, all three of them. Would she have killed more?

"What did I do?" Would she have stopped if the teenager had been there? Could she have? "I k-k-killed them."

He rubbed one hand down her spine, used the other to lift her chin and kissed the tears from her face.

"They played you – played us – for fools, Elena," he rubbed his thumb under her eye. "They used us, and in my opinion deserved worse than they got."

Tears shimmered in her eyes, threatening to fall.

Kol sighed and sat up, pulling her with him and idly wondering when and how the blood had smeared on her stomach.

"Ask yourself this," he used his fingertip to turn her face from where they had smeared a K and E on the once pristine wall. “If I had killed them all, would you be upset?"

"Of course not," she sniffled. "You wouldn't have without a reason."

"Exactly,” he smiled softly, and kissed her brow.

Chapter 21

Kol lounged against the doorframe, surveying the scattered papers with casual interest. The moonlight illuminated bold lines of ink, faint outlines of ancient diagrams and the gold sparkle of her ring.

“What are you working on, love?” He already knew, but she hadn’t spoken much in the four days since they left Oia and the slaughtered coven behind, and he missed her voice.

“Stopping the Harvest,” she murmured, glancing at him.

“That’s all I get,” he clutched his chest, “a fleeting glance?” Mock outrage and devastation bled through his voice.

“If I look at you,” she flipped a page, “you will distract me. You only have half of the information because you keep distracting me.”

A wicked smirk graced his lips. In one fluid movement he swung her chair around, revealing her slender legs and lower thighs.

“Kol,” she tried and failed to sound exasperated. Her eyes dropped to the exposed skin of his abdomen.

She bit down on her lip, placed her palm over his heart and got to her feet.

“Tell me about the Harvest, darling,” his large hands found a home on her hips.

“You already know about the Harvest,” she rolled her eyes.

“Perhaps talking about it will help us both through this block, and give us a new idea.”

“How do I know you’ll let me finish talking?” She held the sides of his open button down. “It looks like you came out here to seduce me.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour, love,” a flash of amusement crossed his face, “I give you my word.”

She pursed her lips and tilted her head, pretending to consider his seriousness. Distraction, she decided, just might do the trick. And if not, at least her eyes would stop crossing from looking at the faded ink; he was far more pleasing to the eye.

“Alright,” she smirked. Leaning forward she trailed her lips over his jaw to his ear.

“Darling?” His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hip.

“I never said I’d be on my best behaviour,” she nipped at his ear, and blew a cool stream of air over the wet skin. Ocean spray clung to his body, invigorating her senses. “The Harvest is a ritual performed in New Orleans.” As she spoke she pushed his shirt down his arms and teased his throat with her teeth. “They sacrifice witches and each one passes her power to the next.”

He struggled to keep his hands still, fighting the desire to drag them up and bury his fingers in her chocolate curls.

“The last one escaped,” she kissed the cleft in his chin.

His restraint grew precariously thin, nearly snapping when her lips covered his in a coaxing kiss, but he held tight to her hips and let her set the pace.

She wasn’t done yet.

“That much power in one witch…” she breathed against his swollen lips.

“Four in one…” he closed his eyes. A thousand years of life had failed to teach him restraint and higher reason proved impossible with her nails scratching a path to his belt. “What…” her fingers pulled the buckle free, “… was her name again?”

“Davina Claire,” she planted kisses over his shoulders.

“Claire?” His heart gave a startled beat. That was new information. The first time they had discussed it he had been distracting her and only gotten the first name.

“Yes,” Elena froze.

“That’s interesting,” he breathed.

Elena took a step back and dragged her eyes up and over his shocked expression. With a jolt she realized that she had never told him the girl’s surname.

“Yes,” a slight edge entered her voice, “it is interesting. She is a powerful Claire witch.”

The fog in his mind cleared and he found he was able to focus once more. A hard glint had entered her narrow eyes accentuated further by the tight twist of her lip. He tilted his head; a slow smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. He would set her straight, but he’d be damned if he didn’t tease her about it first.

“Are you jealous, darling?”

“Jealous?” She scoffed. With a quick spin she stepped from his arms and bent her head over the table. “Why would I be jealous of her? I’m just wondering if I should be worried.” She watched the tide rush in over the black pebbles beyond the balcony. Her voice emerged, colder than the ocean: “You do have a history of using the witches in that family.”

He cringed at the note of brutal honesty, but most of her words stemmed from a clear cut jealousy.

Sighing he stepped up behind her and brushed her long hair over her right shoulder. His arms snaked around her slender waist and pulled her flush against him so she felt every hard inch of his body pressed to her back.

Elena tried to pull away, but she was at an awkward angle and not upset enough to use magic to escape her cage; besides, it was a nice cage.

His mouth brushed the spot that never failed to make her melt before grazing the shell of her ear.

“The Claires may be good witches,” his warm breath ignited a fire under her skin, “but what would I want with one of them when I have you?”

He slid his left hand up her body until he reached her throat. The line of her jaw turned with gentle tugs of his fingers.

He looked at her with a tender gaze that left no doubt to his sincerity.

“I assure you, darling, it doesn’t matter how much power she has, or how pretty she might be,” Elena’s knees weakened. “She could never hope to hold a candle to your flame; it burns too bright in my heart.”

He captured her lips in a kiss even more persuasive than his words, turning her knees to water. Her left hand caught the back of his neck, her right clasping the arm around her waist for purchase. He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat.

“I love you.”

The breath caught in her lungs. She listened to the steady beating of their hearts and the calming sound of the crashing waves. Those three little words carried more weight than any vivid description of his devotion to her.

Kol nuzzled her neck. His anxiety mounted with each passing second of silence, but the truth was out and he wouldn’t have taken it back if he could.

“Shall I help, or leave you to your work since my presence is such a distraction?” He moved to pull away but was stopped by slim fingers curling around his wrists.

“I think I could use a distraction right now,” she guided his right hand down to the apex of her thighs. “It’s gibberish at the moment… too much going on in my head.”

“Perhaps I could help clear your mind,” he bent, pressing his lips to her skin. He nipped at her throat, tasting the ocean’s salt on her sun-kissed flesh.

He bunched the sundress around her hips until his knuckles grazed her inner thighs. He froze at the sound of her soft voice.

“Kol?”

“Yes, darling?” He hummed against her shoulder.

Elena turned in his arms. Her skirt fell down a few inches as she cupped his face in her slender hands. She stared into his darkened eyes and smiled.

“I love you too,” her eyes mirrored the warmth in his. She grinned. “I just wanted to make sure I said that before you started distracting me. You really are a horrible distraction.”

The seductive smirk turned to a grin of pure joy.

“Say that again, love.”

“You’re a horrible distraction,” she teased.

“Elena,” he pinched her hip.

“What?” She giggled. “You are horrible and I love you in spite of it.”

His heart skipped a beat before pounding wildly.

She heard it and grinned. Stretching up on her toes she peppered kisses on his lips, murmuring each word between a kiss.

“I love you, Kol Mikaelson.”

He gripped her waist and rested his forehead on hers.

“I could listen to you say that every day for the rest of eternity.”

“As long as you return the favour,” she smiled. Her eyes glistened in the night. “Now,” she stepped back – just far enough to tear the sundress over her head.

A pulse of desire raced through his bloodstream. His dark eyes flickered over her lithe form from head to toe and he thanked anyone that might be listening for the private beach at the back of the house. The sight of her body belonged to him and him alone.

“Have you forgotten something, darling?” He drank in her nakedness. “Or did you have plans to seduce me?” His reply came with a promising smirk.

“Are you going to distract me from the mess on the table, or must I do it myself?”

As she spoke she dragged her fingers along the smooth expanse of her thigh inch by inch, leaving behind dark smudges of ink. Her legs fell open at the coaxing of her wandering hand to reveal the glistening arousal between her thighs.

He gripped her hips, hoisting her up on the table. Her legs snapped around his waist, drawing him in until the heart from her seeped through his jeans. A groan threatened to escape as her hips rocked and her eyes closed. He stilled her hips, grasped her thighs and took a step backwards.

Elena pouted.

“Patience, darling,” he chuckled.

“You’re telling me to be patient?” She pointed a finger at her fluttering heart, disbelief coloured her tone as her accusing finger leveled on him. “You?”

“I can be patient,” he protested.

Her eyes followed him as he packed away her loose papers and carried them inside when the wind would be unable to scatter them.

“History does not support that statement,” she smirked. “I’ve got the numbers of four people who would agree with me.”

“Let’s leave my siblings out of this,” he reappeared between her legs. “They’re not the names I want to hear falling from your lips, especially when you’re naked and I’m proving how patient I can be.”

He trailed his fingers down her thighs, ghosting over the skin; goosebumps rose in their wake. Placing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth he stepped back and removed the constricting material of his jeans. Then he sank to his knees.

He lifted her left leg and drew a path from her ankle to her knee and from her knee to her inner thigh, laying claim to every inch of skin with his lips. Her muscles quivered beneath his mouth, but instead of tasting the sweet ambrosia between her legs he dragged his mouth back down and repeated the process, switching to her right leg.

“Kol…” her voice shook.

“Yes, my love?” He bit her femoral artery hard enough to make her gasp, but nowhere near enough to break the skin and taste the spice of lust in her blood.

“You’re teasing me,” she grasped at the short strands of his hair.

“I am teaching you patience,” he breathed against her skin and gently pulled her fingers from his hair, pressing her hands flat to the glass table behind her. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Tiny tendrils of fire ignited under the path he kissed from her stomach to the patch of hair between her legs. He paused above the area she wanted him at, meeting her heavy eyes. She bit her lip and the strong desire to beg for her desire lest he take another trip down her legs; finally he dipped his head and inhaled her scent.

His tongue drew a leisurely line through her wet folds as his hands sought the pleasure points he could reach – the curve of her backside, the stiff peaks of his breasts, and the smooth curve of her inner thighs – while deliberately avoiding her swollen clit. He traced lazy circles over her skin with his thumbs until Elena felt certain the sun would crest before she did.

“Please…” she dug her nails in his hair and struggled to reposition him. Her chest heaved with each laboured breath.

He glanced up to her desperate eyes and smirked before blowing a cool stream of air over her swollen clit.

Elena’s eyes fluttered shut. She fell against the table with a sharp cry as he finally focused his attention on her clit p drawing it in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, gently nipping with his teeth – and on her aching pussy – thrusting into her with his tongue.

He went back and forth, working her higher and higher until her thighs trembled on either side of his head.

She tasted the first hint of release on the tip of her tongue as the coil in her belly grew taut. She was there on the edge, ready to fall into her orgasm, but then Kol pulled away and she tumbled in the opposite direction.

Her glare would have melted ice, as would her heated skin.

“I told you, darling,” he chuckled, standing between her open legs, “I’m teaching you patience.”

“Good things come to those who wait,” she grumbled, propping herself on her elbows. “When exactly do I get to come?”

“When I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he smirked and bent her legs at the knee, urging her to hold them aloft.

She held the backs of her thighs, freeing his hands to draw her to the edge of the table. He brought one hand down to caress her pert ass before drawing back a delivering a sharp swat; her breasts shook from the impact.

“Do you want to come, Elena?” He rubbed the tender flesh, already healed.

She nodded, squealing when he spanked her again.

“Then what must you be?”

“Patient,” she whispered. Her ass pushed down against his hand, but even she was unsure of what she wanted – oral stimulation, a further spanking, or his hard cock buried in her willing body – but it didn’t matter; Kol had other ideas.

He thrust two fingers in her dripping pussy and curled them, locating the spongey spot inside that made her moan. He combined the erotic massage with his thumb working her over again until she was on the verge of orgasm before he stopped and denied her satisfaction once more.

“I thought you said that nobody leaves you unsatisfied,” she panted, struggling to hold her legs up.

Kol chuckled – a dark sound in the back of his throat – and pressed his wet fingers to her lips.

“Who said anything about letting you leave?” He groaned as her tongue swirled around his fingers. “I’m never letting you go, Elena Gilbert?”

She let go of her legs and slowly sat up, dragging one of his hands to her waist and the other to her chest. Her voice – though exasperated – teased him; they both knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Then you’d better work on keeping me satisfied,” she pushed his boxer briefs down his thighs, grinning when he stepped out of them.

“As you wish, darling,” he hummed.

In one swift move Elena found her body bent over the balcony where the cool metal pressed into her stomach. She opened her mouth to say something, but her words cut off in a silent scream when he entered her from behind with a smooth thrust.

She gripped the railing for purchase, meeting him thrust for thrust until he drilled into her and the only sounds that reached her ears were the lapping waves, the slap of skin on skin and her needy moans.

Just when she thought he was going to let her come – bringing orgasm after orgasm on her body – he pulled out and switched positions. The process repeated – against the glass doors, sitting on the patio table, down on all fours – until her mind and body were a blithering mess and all she could see was the intense light in his eyes.

The moon had begun to dip below the horizon when he decided she couldn’t take anymore – partly because of the quaking muscles in his own body whispering to let go.

He hooked her leg over his elbow, brought his thumb to her clit, and sank his teeth into the rapidly pounding artery in her throat. The feel of her contacting walls combined with the taste of her blood and the sting of her teeth sinking into his shoulder had the muscles in his back stiffening. He bucked into her, forcing his release as deep into her body as he could before collapsing at her side in a tangle of limbs.

Her toes slowly uncurled as a feeling of utter bliss spread through her weary body.

“Are you still thinking of leaving?” He tipped up her chin.

“I’m too tired to move,” she giggled.

“That’s what happens when you practice patience,” he teased, kissing the tip of her nose.

“Just shut up and hold me,” she swatted at his arm, missing entirely.

“You can’t even roll over,” he crowed, grinning. He shifted her onto her side and curled his arm over her waist, tucking her curves into the contours of his body. “I satisfied you, darling, admit it.”

“I would, but then I’d be stroking your ego,” she closed her eyes.

“Would you prefer to stroke something else?” The chuckle rumbled through his chest to her back. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“Maybe later,” she hummed, “I’m too worn out to do anything but cuddle right now.”

“I can do that,” he murmured.

The feel of her heart against his chest lulled him to sleep moments behind her. Sunlight and soft hair tickled his senses waking him hours later. At some point she had rolled over and draped her thigh over his body.

“Your phone’s ringing,” she buried her face in his chest.

He threaded his fingers through her mussed hair and glanced at the nightstand where his phone sat, silent and still.

“It’s not my phone.”

Elena groaned, wrinkling her nose. She sighed and pushed up, dragging her breast over his chest and her leg fully over his waist. She half-straddled, half-laid on top of him and groped for her phone.

“I could get used to this,” he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush to his chest.

“Behave,” she kissed his cheek, squinting at the phone.

“That’s no fun,” his fingers traced down her spine, “but since I love you I’ll listen.”

Elena swiped the screen.

“Morning Bekah,” she twisted her head to lie on his shoulder.

“I’m pretty sure it’s afternoon there. Are you really still asleep?”

“I had a late night,” she stifled a yawn.

“I’d ask for details, but I’m certain my brother was the one keeping you up late, so I’ll refrain from gossip.”

“I kept her up all night until she couldn’t move,” he chuckled.

“Kol,” she pressed her hand to his mouth.

“Those are details I never wanted to know. Have either of you heard from Elijah?”

“Not since leaving Mystic Falls,” she sat up, casting Kol a curious glance.

“He called me,” he admitted, “weeks ago, but I didn’t answer, and I won’t until he apologizes for leaving you in that cottage and waking Nik.”

“He hasn’t been answering my calls; I’m worried Nik’s done something horrible in retaliation for being daggered.”

“Nik is always doing something horrible,” Kol rolled his eyes.

“Do you two know what’s going on in New Orleans?”

“Yeah,” she pushed her hair back from her face, “that’s why we’re in Greece: looking for answers.”

“I thought you understood all of that… never mind… if you hear from Elijah tell me, please. I’m going to New Orleans to look for him.”

Elena agreed – though she didn’t think Elijah would be fool enough to call her – and disconnected the call.

“I thought she’d never hang up.”

She dropped her phone on the bed and tipped her chin up; giving him unrestricted access to her throat. She arched into him, guiding his hands between her legs, but before she could give in to the pleasure he built up her eyes popped open. Her voice came out as a moan when he traced the delicate shell of her ear with his tongue.

“Oh my God, Elijah.”

Kol snapped back and met her eyes, cocking an eyebrow.

“What did I say about my family’s names while you’re naked?”

“Not that,” Elena shook her head. She pushed on his chest, forcing him to lie down. “Last year – a century ago? – when Klaus used me, Elijah tried to save me.” Her eyes lit up; she bounced, almost giddy. “He had an elixir he had made for Katherine with resuscitative properties, so I would be dead and then I wouldn’t.”

His eyes widened with realization.

“You want to make it for Davina?”

“I never used it,” she bit her lip, “because Damon shoved his bleeding wrist in my mouth and vampire blood made the elixir useless. Elijah still has it… somewhere.”

“So we’re going back to New Orleans,” he picked up her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “We’ll head to the airport in a bit.”

“In a bit?”

“Mmhmm,” he rolled her over. “After I’ve made sweet love you.”

“Kol,” she massaged the back of his neck, “we need to be on the next plane.”

“Is that a no?” He pouted. “Because if I’m going to deal with my brothers I need one more peaceful fix before we’re drawn into the chaos and I have to be semi-civil.”

She laughed, pushing on his shoulders.

“That’s a ‘take-it-to-the-shower-because-we’re-multi-tasking’.”

Chapter 22

Three days; it took three days to find a flight to New Orleans. Being one of two Original-Witch Hybrids was awesome most days, but it really sucked when compulsion and magic proved incapable of aiding them. No amount of compulsion could send a plane into a typhoon; no amount of magic could dispel that typhoon from so far away.

It had been three days since Rebekah called and they were made aware of the potential problem.

It had been two days since the news had begun reporting ‘spontaneous earthquakes’ centralized in the city.

It had been one day since her anxiety rose to terrifying levels.

“If you bite much harder then you’ll make yourself bleed,” Kol murmured. He slid his hand over hers, entwining squeezing her fingers. “What’s bothering you darling? Other than the child we’re trying to save, I mean.”

Her foot bounced against the front of the seat in front of her; the motion was barely noticeable next to the vibration of the plane.

“Darling,” he lifted their joined hands, kissing her knuckles.

“I’m…” she closed her eyes. “I’m just,” she lowered her head to his shoulder, “so tired.”

“Then take a nap,” he chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

“I can’t,” she groaned. Her hair tickled his nose as she shook her head. “I’m too wired and uncomfortable to sleep.”

“This plane isn’t exactly equipped for comfort,” he traced the line of her nose with his eyes.

“It’s not that,” she murmured, squirming in place. She squeezed her upper arms together; when that failed to work she let go of his hand and physically shifted her breast.

“Darling,” he gasped, scandalized.

She rolled her eyes and peeked up at him through her lashes.

“It’s my bra,” there was an ache in her chest, “it’s too tight, and I can’t relax.”

“Oh well, if that’s all,” he smirked, sliding his hand behind her back, “allow me to remove the offensive garment. I shall tear it to shreds for daring to mar your skin.”

“You’d tear it to shreds for fun,” she snorted. “And you can’t take it off here,” her eyes flickered to the five humans surrounding their seats. She could smell them all, and the scent made her mouth water.

Elena straightened up in her seat and looked down; inspecting the small space they had managed to wrangle. Personally she would have preferred a private plane, but time was of the essence and she refused to waste it waiting for bureaucracy.

Six inches separated her knee from the seatback ahead, and she was close to Kol that if her hips were a little wider she would have been encroaching on his personal space – at least she would have if he believed in personal space.

Glancing around, she came to a decision and snaked her hands beneath her shirt. In seconds she had unhooked her bra and pulled it off through her sleeve and tucked the mess of lace and wire into her purse on the floor. Then she twisted, presented Kol with her back and folded her legs on the seat beside her; bracing them against the wall. With her left hand she lifted the armrest and leaned back.

“What are you doing?” He whispered when she was settled, raising an arm to brace her back.

“Getting comfortable,” she snuggled into his chest. She squeezed her upper arms again.

“Does it still hurt?” His brows drew together.

“A little,” she admitted, “I’ll be fine in a few minutes. I don’t get it, though,” she looked up at him, “that bra was always so comfortable.”

He dragged his hand up her stomach until his fingers brushed the swell of her breast and he gently kneaded; almost laughing when she released a contented sig

The captain chose that moment to tell them they would begin their descent and be in the city within the hour.

“Kol,” she breathed.

“Yes, my love?” He slid his hand back down her belly.

“I know we should check with Rebekah first, but…” she chewed her bottom lip.

“You haven’t heard Thierry’s voice in three days,” he nodded. “We’ll stop their first.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t thank me, love,” he chuckled, “I just want to avoid my family.”

“You’re also curious,” she reached up, patting his cheek.

The apartment building was old, a factory converted into lofts, and on any given day it exuded charm, but in that moment something didn’t feel quite right.

Her feelings of anxiety grew until she was certain she was going to snap the chain around her neck.

The apartment was empty. The only signs of inhabitation were the remnants of a breakfast that had been sitting for a few days next to a bunch of brown bananas.

“He’s not much for cleaning is he?” Kol peered into the cup at the congealed cream, but refrained from inhaling through his nose.

“He’d never leave a mess,” Elene shook her head. She had raised him better than that. “Something’s not right.”

“Have you tried calling?”

“He hasn’t answered,” she nodded. “I never wanted to be the kind of person who has texting relationship with someone she loves, but I feel like that’s who I am.”

“That’s not who you are,” he crossed the loft, taking hold of her shoulders.

“It’s how he sees me,” she pouted.

“I refuse to believe that,” he shook his head. “Up until a few days ago the two of you would talk on the phone for a minimum of an hour a night. If he’s not calling you then he is probably busy.”

She lowered her chin and glanced at her phone. The messages over the last few days had been along the same lines: everything is fine, I love you, and New Orleans is not falling apart.

Her eyes locked on one of the messages about the city and the time stamp beside it. She couldn’t be sure without checking her call logs but it looked like the same time that Rebekah had called and told her about the first earthquake.

Her chest tightened.

“Something’s wrong,” she flipped the phone around and pointed to the message.

“Why would he lie to you?” Kol looked up from the screen.

“He wouldn’t.”

Elena took his hand and hurried out onto the street. She had every intention of racing towards the old Mikaelson compound, but she froze in her tracks.

Her eyes locked on a tall man with dark skin and tight brown curls. It took her three seconds to place where she had seen him before, but when the recognition crossed her face something akin to fear flittered over his features.

He bolted, but she was faster. In seconds she had left Kol behind and pinned him to the brick alley by his throat.

“Evening Diego,” her expression hardened. “Care to tell me why you ran from little old me?”

“How do you know I wasn’t running from him?” He jerked his chin.

“Do you even know who he is?” Elena tilted her head to where Kol was sauntering into the alley.

“Doesn’t everyone,” he smirked.

“You are so cocky,” she rolled her eyes.

“You love that about me.”

Elena focused her full attention on Diego. Within seconds she felt his skin heat under her hands as his blood boiled; he gasped, choking on air.

“How are you doing that?”

“Magic,” she glared. “Where is my son?”

“I don’t…”

“Don’t lie to me,” she snapped, upping the heat, “I really hate being lied to.”

After nearly a century of living in the compound she knew it like the back of her hand. The courtyard with its lyrical fountain was one of her favorite rooms, but she just knew she would forever associate it with what was about to happen.

And it was going to be bad since Marcel, Klaus and Elijah were all present.

She got the sense that Elijah was going for something intimidating when she walked in, but Marcel knew him pretty well and his knowledge made him confident; he stood tall and proud.

He stood tall and proud, until she appeared behind Elijah.

It was Klaus who saw her first. Being sprawled on the floor near the door gave him the perfect view of her heels coming down near his head.

Marcel saw her second. He took an involuntary step back at the sight of her mottled skin, gulping audibly.

Elijah frowned but then slowly turned around. His heart stilled when he saw her.

“Elena,” he breathed.

The familiar Petrova fire flared in her eyes and for one moment he knew true terror for the woman he had seen perform daring feats of magical engineering, but then he followed her eyes.

“I’ll get to you,” she snapped.

The rage was not directed at him.

“Elena,” Marcel took a slow step back, raising his palms towards her. “I didn’t have a choice. Klaus didn’t leave me a choice.”

“No choice,” she glanced down to her feet where Klaus was getting up, “no choice,” she closed her eyes.

“I didn’t…”

Elena threw up her hand, tossing Marcel into the wall with the force of a hurricane wind. The stucco shattered behind his back, leaving exposed brick.

“No choice,” she shrieked, tossing him to the left and taking out half of a column.

Elijah backed up towards Klaus.

“No choice?!”

The railing broke under Marcel’s body. She caught a piece of flying wood the length of her forearm and moved, hitting him so hard the oak shattered into splinters.

“There’s always a choice,” she grunted, kicking him in the ribs.

“Should we stop her?” Elijah glanced sideways at Klaus as Elena started kicking and Marcel coughed up blood.

“Personally, I’d like to see where this goes,” he shook his head. For the moment the dagger he had stabbed Elijah with was forgotten. “Did you know they knew each other?”

Elena shrieked, and they looked over to see Marcel had somehow managed to pin her to the floor. She flipped them over.

Her fist collided with his jaw, crunching through bone.

“Always…” she panted, “… always a choice…” she punched between words. “If you weren’t on a freaking power trip you’d have seen that.”

“B… broke…” Marcel groaned through his broken jaw, “…ru…rul…rules.”

Her blows lowered to his chest.

He moved through row upon row of vampires in various stages of desiccation. The further he went the more he believed that he should have handled Marcel and let Elena do this part, but there had been no way to quail her r

High heels clicked on the stone floor, muffled by layers of dust and decay. For a moment he thought it was Elena, but the shoes were farther in the foundations of the old house.

“Hello?” He called.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“Kol?”

He flashed through the ruins around bricked up vampires until he found her near a back wall.

“Bex?”

“You’re late,” she crossed her arms.

“I couldn’t get a flight,” he smirked. “What are you doing here?”

“I got to town and found out Nik daggered and traded Elijah to Marcel as some botched peace offering, and to get him back he concocted a distraction,” she glanced around. “I found out after the fact the distraction was Thierry and that Marcel sealed him up down here. It took me a couple of days to find the location.”

“Let me guess,” he moved along the wall, “you were hoping to have him out of here before Elena found out.”

“Judging by your presence here I’m going to say I failed,” she sighed.

A voice croaked from the end of the row, dusty and raw.

“She’s gonna kill him.”

Her mouth had stopped forming words at some point – she wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened. There were too many feelings of rage to sort through, and all of those emotions stuttered out of her in hard punches and sharp grunts.

The only thing that mattered was causing as much pain as possible.

Elijah’s eyes flickered from Elena to Klaus to the door’s arch where three sets of feet entered the compound. His brows lowered, but his shock was nothing compared to Klaus.

“What the blood hell?” He breathed, staring at his younger siblings.

Mud clung to Rebekah’s shoes and Kol was covered in a fine red dust, but Klaus’ eyes were drawn to the grey man between them.

Rebekah tightened her grip around Thierry’s back to fully support the dead weight. Three days underground shouldn’t have desiccated him to the point he could barely function, but the rebar thrust through his abdomen had ensured he quickly bled out and starved that much faster.

Kol relinquished his hold and pushed between his gaping brothers. Personally he didn’t care if Elena tore out Marcel’s heart – he never had liked him – but he knew she would; one day she would regret killing one of her oldest friends in a fit of rage regardless of what he had done to deserve it.

“Darling?” He reached for her shoulder.

Elena shook him off, landing another crunching punch to Marcel’s nose.

He sighed. With a strong grip on her upper arms Kol physically lifted her off of Marcel. He wrapped his arms around her and held tight as she struggled and snarled at him to let her go.

“Elena,” he bent, whispering in her ear, “look.”

“Let go of me,” she hissed.

“Mom?”

Elena froze and Kol took that as his cue to release her. He caught a glimpse of her shimmering eyes before she blurred and appeared on the other side of the room.

She threw her arms around Thierry holding the back of his neck. His skin was like sandpaper under her palms.

Marcel rolled over slowly, groaning and searching for purchase on the blood slicked stones.

“Elena,” he called.

She stiffened, but refused to turn, ignoring him and the Originals in assembly. Kol and Rebekah were the only vampires present not currently triggering her anger and she didn’t trust herself to so much as look at one of the other three.

She straightened her spine, sucked in a calming breath that did absolutely nothing to calm her and steered Thierry around before changing her mind and racing from the compound.

Rebekah stomped some of the mud from her heels and looked beyond Klaus and Elijah to where Marcel was getting to his feet by Kol.

“Did you learn nothing from Papa Tunde?” She shook her head. “You never poke a Mama Bear.”

“Is someone going to tell us what the bloody hell is going on here?”

“Vanchure?” Elijah frowned. He searched his memory for all he knew of Thierry.

“Yes,” Rebekah saw the moment the information clicked in the way his eyes shifted. “Elena never left New Orleans; she hid in plain sight. Right under your noses.”

“Rather clever actually,” Kol smirked. He turned his attention towards Marcel. “You, however, were not.” He tilted his head, considering, and then moved. His arm struck, sinking into Marcel’s upper abdomen; he curled his fingers around the hot organ and pulled.

Marcel dropped with a groan while Kol inspected the spleen in his clenched fist.

She came to a stop in a pristine sitting room, lowering her filthy son down on the cream and gold sofa. Flakes of blood and brick dust fluttered down on the material.

Her heart ached.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” her voice cracked. “I should have come home sooner.”

“Y… you di… didn’t know.” A vein throbbed under his eye that swiveled to the door.

“Who the hell are you?”

Elena stood up slowly and turned around to face the woman.

Her dark brown hair tumbled over her shoulders. One of her hands rested on the gentle swell of her abdomen and the other held an iron fire poker.

“You’re gonna need something stronger,” her eyes flickered to the weapon, “to take out an Original.”

“Oh, joy,” she scoffed, “another Original. Because I don’t have enough Mikaelsons around.”

“I’m not a Mikaelson, Hayley,” Elena shifted, blocking the girl from her son’s line of sight. “I’m the one that put Klaus down, and if not for Elijah’s intervention he would have stayed down.”

“You know my name?” Hayley tilted her head. She dropped the fire poker and crossed her arms.

“Hayley Marshall,” Elena cleared her throat, “the werewolf girl with exceptionally poor taste in men. Rebekah filled me in when she got to town.”

“So I’m the subject of supernatural gossip?”

“You are doing something impossible,” her eyes flickered down. “I don’t know a thing about your personality, but I sincerely hope your baby takes after you. Does Klaus keep blood in the house?”

“Bags of it in the fridge,” Hayley nodded, “it’s nauseating.”

“Show me,” Elena’s mouth strained around the smile.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Thierry coughed. “She doesn’t trust me to be alone with you.”

“I trust you, sweetie,” Elena glanced back over her shoulder, “but Hayley is pregnant, and she has four times the normal amount of blood coursing through her body.” She turned her attention back to the werewolf, striding in her direction. “I’m Elena, by the way, and this is my son.”

She took Hayley’s elbow, steering her into the hall and promising Thierry that she would return in a few minutes with blood bags.

He slumped back against the cushions and closed his eyes. After being bricked in and forced to stand upright with a length of metal in his gut the antique couch was heavenly; exhaustion beckoned him towards sleep. It was a sleep he would never want to wake up from, so he fought it, struggling to listen to his mother and the werewolf as they moved through the house. They sounded closer than they should have; he doubted they were in the kitchen, and his doubts were confirmed when heels clicked towards the knocking at what he thought was the front of the house.

Hayley’s voice drifted towards him on the air.

“What are you going here?”

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?" Kol snapped the moment they reached the mansion. He spared the sprawling mansion a cursory glance; he didn't really have any memories of it, having first been awakened after the compound had been completed.

There was a single building in New Orleans associated with pleasant memories.

"I was thinking we had to get Elijah back," Klaus gestured to him.

"A need that could have avoided had you refrained from shoving a dagger through my heart and giving me to Marcel in what I can only assume was a show of good faith."

"Why would you need a 'show of good faith'?" Kol shoved up his sleeves. "And where the hell did you come from," he snapped at Elijah, eyes darting to his sister, “last I heard you were stuck in a box."

"Did you come all this way to save him?" Klaus snapped

"Oh, please... I would have been perfectly content leaving you to rot for a while after what you did," he gestured to Klaus, "but Elena needed you. Now will someone tell me what's going on here?"

Rebekah stepped forward to answer but was cut off by Klaus' guttural growl.

"The local witches bound one of their own to the girl carrying my child; they have been using their leverage to blackmail me."

Kol felt the beginning of a headache. "To what end?" He rubbed his temples.

"They want Marcel dethroned."

"And his secret weapon back," Elijah added. His red tie fluttered in the wind. "They require the young witch..." His voice cut off, a glance at Klaus revealed that he too was speechless.

Kol's fingers stretched toward the sky, palms held out in a cease and desist motion. A ball of lead had settled in his stomach. Lifting his chin he spoke slowly, deliberately forming each word.

"Are you telling me that all of this madness is over Davina bloody Claire?"

"Yup," Rebekah popped the 'p'.

Slowly his fingers curled and uncurled; blood pounded in his ears. He closed his eyes and seethed in silence for a moment before exhaling a controlled breath; blind to the way his brothers were attempting to speak without vocal cords.

"Where is the werewolf girl?" He lowered his hands, relinquishing the hold he had. Opening his eyes he saw they were gaping. "What?"

"Elena didn't tell them she was tweaking mother's spell," Rebekah walked backwards between them. She thoroughly enjoyed the way their eyes budged. She glanced over her shoulder to Kd. "Hayley's inside."

That snapped Klaus out of his shock and he moved, blocking Kol's path, but wisely maintaining a few feet of distance.

"What do you want with her?" A deep frown pulled the edges of his mouth.

"Clearly I want to rip her limb from limb,” he rolled his eyes.

"I don't believe your sarcasm is appreciated,” Rebekah smirked. Her eyes cut to Klaus. "He's going to unbind her from the witch, you bloody w anther."

The wind shifted and Kol caught the remnants of her perfume.

"Assuming Elena hasn't already done so."

"I don't hear them inside,” Elijah frowned.

A loud crash came from the sitting room. The siblings exchanged a look and then raced inside, finding Thierry swaying on the spot over a broken crystal vase. He stared at the shards for a beat then lifted his eyes.

"S... someone was here."

Rough stone dug into her shoulder blades, snagging the soft Cashmere sweater. Lead held her eyelids closed, but no amount of sleepless nights amounted for her exhaustion; she had even managed to snag a short nap on the plane.

She attempted to concentrate through the fog in her mind.

She thought there was a woman. An older woman with dark curls and a bright scarf that held them back.

She knew there had been a spell.

"Elena," a voice whispered near her ear.

A spell that hit her before she could blink.

“Elena."

A spell to disorient.

"Elena."

A spell to sleep.

"Elena."

A spell to weaken.

“Elena!"

She felt a glancing blow against her thigh and squirmed away.

"Wha..." she slurred the word. Her blood was inching through her body, stalled by something.

She forced her eyes open, blinking against the flickering candlelight. She managed to focus long enough to take in the zip ties around Hayley's wrists and the iron holding her own hands together.

She recognized them.

She made them.

"What's going on?” She mumbled around her mouthful of cotton.

"Agnes,” Hayley's eyes darted to an adjoining room. "She drugged you."

"With what?" Elena croaked. She could break the chains, but she needed blood first. "It's not vervain."

"You took out Klaus, right?" Hayley shuffled closer. "Can you get us out of this?"

Elena shook her head. The chains clinked as she tried to move.

"I feel like they drained me. Am I desiccated? I feel like I'm desiccating."

"You are not desiccating Miss Gilbert."

Elena tipped her head up, squinting. "Agnes?” She lifted her hands when she nodded. "You're gonna be sorry for this."

"I don't foresee you being a problem,” Agnes knelt, “and your lover won't dare attack while we have you."

Elena's eyes narrowed. She could feel the exhaustion dragging her back down, and she fought it.

"What are you doing, Agnes?" Hayley glared, struggling against her bonds.

"Taking a risk, the Harvest must be completed. Klaus wasn't getting the job done, so we're turning to Kol; legend says he's psychotic and a maniac, but he gets the job done."

"And what's to stop him from killing you," she snorted, glancing out to the other room, "and everyone else?"

"Because,” Agnes' nose wrinkled, "he has a soft spot for you, and I'm willing to bet he will do whatever it takes to save you and,” she flattened her palm on Elena's flat stomach, "the abomination you created together."

Elena's eyes dropped to her stomach.

Chapter 23

Notes:

Okay, so here's the deal. I've got four chapters and an epilogue planned out. The story is mapped and finished; all it needs is to be typed up. That being said, this chapter and the last one were both planned out as one; it just got so long that I split it in two pieces, so the story should be between five and ten chapters until it's done. There is also a sequel in the works for it as well. The first chapter for that is already written.

Sophie sucked in a deep breath and released it, pressing her hand to her chest for a moment to steady her heartbeat. She was already regretting volunteering for the trip, but Agnes had pointed out that amongst their dwindling numbers she was safest in the presence of the Mikaelsons. The only problem was that Agnes was thinking of Klaus and Elijah who cared what happened to Hayley; Kol Mikaelson was a wild card, and she was holding his girl's necklace.

Her knuckles wrapped on the door three times; it swung inwards before she finished. She swallowed, went to wipe her palms on her jeans and thought better of it, instead clenching her fists at her sides.

"What are you doing here?"

She lifted her chin, staring him in the eye. "I've come to negotiate."

Klaus crossed his arms to keep from strangling her. "Am I to take it your people are responsible for what happened here?"

"They are," she nodded.

"I believe we already had a deal Miss Devereux," Elijah came up beside his brother. "You've broken it."

"I'm not here to negotiate with either of you," her eyes narrowed, flashing beyond their shoulders. "Kol Mikaelson, I take it?"

"Who are you?" Kol crossed his arms and leaned against the banister. He could hear Thierry and Rebekah in the kitchen. "And why would I ever want to make any sort of deal with you?"

"My name is Sophie," she reached into her pocket, curling her fingers around the silver chain, "and you'll listen because we have something you want."

A locket glinted in the air; he recognized it instantly.

Kol shoved his brothers aside, pinning Sophie to the doorframe by her throat. He ripped the necklace from her hands and flipped it open, rage flashed in his eyes when the picture confirmed his suspicions.

"Where did you get this?" His fingers tightened. "Answer carefully, darling, for they may be your last words."

"Kol!"

He threw up his free hand, gripping his brothers in a silencing spell and binding them in place for good measure.

"Agnes took it from her neck," she grasped his wrist.

"Where is she?" He started to squeeze delighting in the way her face turned purple. Before he could let up and allow her enough air to answer he was physically pulled from the woman and held against the door with an arm over his clavicle.

"You can't hurt her," Rebekah's eyes flashed.

"The hell I can't!"

"She's the witch bound to Hayley," she hissed, "so no, you cannot; not until they are unbound."

Kol's eyes cut from Rebekah to where Sophie coughed on the floor. He turned his chin towards his brothers, releasing them with a wave of his hand.

"Get me some rope."

---

"I thought you were a vampire," Hayley whispered. Her bright eyes leapt to Elena's abdomen every few minutes.

She held her arms tightly to her stomach, doing her best to ignore the ice spreading from the manacles. Could it be true? She supposed. Klaus had set a precedent whose heartbeat she could hear fluttering away inside of Hayley. She had told Kol her physiology was closer to Klaus than the rest of them, and now thanks to her so was his, but there had to be more to it than that. Hayley had a cycle, she didn't; it would have made far more sense to her if Agnes had told her Kol had made the 'abomination' with a human woman behind her back.

'Abomination'? Her blood boiled.

She couldn't hear a heart beating, but she knew it was true; somewhere deep inside she recognized what was happening to her body.

"I'm a hybrid," she lifted her gaze to Hayley, "and so is he."

"Two hybrids," Hayley murmured.

"It seems one plus one equals three," Elena swallowed. She closed her eyes and tried to focus her energy into the needed spell, but the ache in her gums was too strong. "I can't do it without blood," she groaned, stretching out her legs.

"That's all you need to get us out of here?" Hayley twisted to face Elena, she kept one eye on the shadows in the adjoining room; as far as she could tell nobody was looking in their direction, and even if they were she was pretty sure the angle of the door hid them from view.

"That's what I need to try," Elena nodded, sinking back against the stone; she resigned herself to waiting for rescue, as painful as it sounded.

"If that's all you need," Hayley lifted her arms, shaking slightly to roll down her loose sleeves.

"What are you doing?" Elena hissed. A vein fluttered under her eye when Hayley presented the smooth curve of her wrist. "You're pregnant!"

"You're pregnant and drugged," Hayley glanced toward the door. Any moment someone would come to check on them. "Take a little and try."

Elena straightened her spine and tilted her head, considering. She didn't think she would need much. She was an Original with a healthy amount of blood in her system; she just needed a little jumpstart to get whatever herb had drugged her out.

Her eyes were unfocused when she glanced toward the door, doubting she would have seen anybody before they darkened the entry. She breathed slowly and used the few inches the shackles provided to steady Hayley's arm. The sharp sting of her fangs descending came and went in an instant before she sank her teeth into the soft inside of her elbow.

Blood flowed into her mouth, clearing her head with each sharp pull. She let go after three swallows, confident she would have a chance to feed in a moment.

"Hide your arm," she pulled the sleeve back in place.

She checked Hayley's eyes for any sign that she had taken too much. Once satisfied the werewolf was alright she leaned back and closed her eyes, focusing again. Her concentration was broken by a harsh gasp.

She opened her eyes to see Hayley clawing the air around her throat.

"Hayley?" Elena didn't realize how loud her cry was until three people raced into the room.

---

The unbound knot hung in the air, suspended momentarily with magic before he let it drop and turned his attention towards the witch.

"Oh, look," he smirked, "now I can kill you."

"You can't," Sophie pulled on the restraints holding her to the chair, but escaping proved futile.

"Would you like to place a wager on that?" Kol tilted his head. "I can easily locate Elena, darling. You have nothing I want."

"The witches still have Hayley," Elijah picked up the discarded sanguinum knot, turning it over in his hands. "Who will be nursing a bruised windpipe by now?"

"No offense to who I'm sure is a lovely person despite her taste in men," Kol waved his hand dismissively, "but I'm more interested in Elena."

"If you'd been less interested in Elena you wouldn't be in this position," Sophie muttered.

"What position?" Kol lifted her chin, pressing his fingers into the flesh hard enough to leave a bruise.

"One to be blackmailed," Sophie exhaled. She suspected honesty was the way to deal with the youngest brother. Legends said he knew when people lied to him, and that he had a penchant for tearing out the liar's tongues. "There are dozens of dark objects in this city. Most were acquired by Elena when I was still a child, some are in possession of the church, and a select few remain in the hands of the covens; among them is a needle with one specific purpose: to kill an unborn child in utero by raising the mother's blood pressure. And if you don't do what we want Agnes will use it."

"You assume I care what happens to my traitorous brother's child." A light flashed in Kol's dark eyes.

"Who said anything about using it on Hayley?" Defiance set Sophie's jaw. She cocked an eyebrow when disbelief flickered over his face. "The funny thing about hybrids: they're loopholes."

Elijah glanced sideways to his brother, sister and Thierry.

"Are you attempting to imply…"

"I'm not implying anything," Sophie inhaled slowly. "I'm telling you: Elena Gilbert is pregnant," her eyes focused on Kol, "with your child. You can check if you don't believe me. Drop the locket and search for her with your blood."

"That's not possible."

"Really, Nik?" Rebekah crossed her arms. "I'd think you'd be the first to believe it."

"You do?" He shot back.

"Elena is an anomaly," Rebekah glanced towards Kol, "and so is he. Without a cycle I wouldn't have a clue when it happened, but I believe it could. It's not just a matter of them both being hybrids though."

"No," Sophie agreed. "The child would have been conceived during a celestial event."

"Like a full moon," Rebekah frowned.

"Exactly like a full moon," Sophie pulled her chin from Kol's slack hand. "If I'm not mistaken there was one a week ago."

In his mind's eye he saw Elena's blood stained hand curled around a dark heart, illuminated by the spilled light of the full moon. The conversation in the room ebbed and flowed around him as the night replayed in his head: dead witches, blood, destroyed furniture and something truly explosive when they finished and before he pulled her into his arms to doze in the moonlight filtering through the bloody handprint on the window.

He straightened up, spinning around and holding his hand out to Thierry to drop the locket in his open palm.

"Do not lose that."

"Mom would have my head if I did," he chuckled.

With a wave of his hand Kol ignited the candle on the table. Gripping the edge of the table top he chanted under his breath, "phasmatos physium calva," his eyes slid shut. He repeated it again and again until he felt the connection snap in place.

Rebekah exchanged a look with her oldest brothers when Kol's eyes opened to reveal white. She left him to whatever spell he had going and turned to Sophie.

"I thought you couldn't use magic without incurring the wrath of Marcel?"

"We're desperate," she shifted in her chair, "and running out of time. You've felt the earthquakes," she waited for Rebekah's nod. "It's the first sign."

Kol exhaled, blinking the vestiges of black from his eyes. With the severing of the connection a rush of cold hit him. He had been attempting to link his mind with Elena's to see what she saw, but he had seen nothing and heard even less as he was enveloped in warmth and safety.

"What do you want?" He suppressed his shiver, turning to face Sophie.

"The same thing we wanted from Klaus," she tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Agnes seems to believe you can actually get the job done."

"I have done everything you asked," Klaus growled.

"Not fast enough," she rolled her shoulders.

"I'm not doing anything for anyone until I have Elena back," Kol flashed in front of her.

Sophie's breath caught when he tipped her chair. She saw something flash in her eyes, but it wasn't the madness she had heard so much about; it was something else far more dangerous.

"We're not releasing her until you deliver Davina Claire," Sophie inhaled slowly, forcing bravado into her voice. "And if you kill me, Agnes will use the needle anyway."

"Not if she wants our help," Klaus growled. "How sure are you that the link was broken?"

"Do you doubt me, brother?" Kol cocked an eyebrow.

"You have been known to trick."

"Not when it comes to children."

"So Marcel was an anomaly?" Rebekah tilted her head.

"I didn't kill him did I?" Kol shook his head. "Bloody hell, nobody in this family can take a joke."

"That was a rather morbid joke," Elijah sighed.

"The link has been removed," he clenched his fists.

"In that case I say we kill her," Klaus smirked, turning his eyes on Sophie. "She's likely bluffing to save her own skin."

"I'm not taking that risk," Kol shook his head.

"Then perhaps you should take a nap," Klaus snarled, rushing forward and pinning Kol to the wall.

"Dagger threats?" His brows shot up. He pushed with his palm, sending Klaus into the banister. "Don't you know any other tricks?"

Wood and plaster rained down on the floor.

"You should know that particular trick no longer works on me," Kol broke the leg off the table. He rushed Klaus, breaking the hardwood over his spine.

Klaus grunted.

He swept his leg out, catching Kol and knocking him off his feet.

Kol stood but before he could strike again, either physically or with magic, his arms were grabbed. He didn't get a chance to swear at Elijah before he was released again.

Rebekah's eyes flickered from the spot where Kol stood to her feet. She met Elijah's eyes and stepped back, making room for the first blow from Finn. She slipped around the side of the room until she got to the door, pulling Sophie's chair with her when she was close enough.

"When did your flight get in?" She smiled at Sage.

"We drove actually," she motioned towards the driveway. "He really didn't want to come here."

"Can't say I blame him," she nodded. She tuned out the sound of blows and breaking bones, sparing Kol a quick glance when she heard the spell.

"What's going on here?" Sage watched the Original brothers fight for a moment, ultimately deciding to focus her full attention on Rebekah. She listened intently as the situation was explained. "What are we still doing here then?" She asked when the blonde was done.

"Aside from the fact that we don't know where the witches have them, there is no reason," Rebekah shrugged.

"Do the witches have someplace they gather? That's likely the spot," Sage broke the bonds holding Sophie in place.

---

"Are you alright?" Elena whispered. She'd had the good sense to feign lethargy when the coven rushed in, but now that Hayley appeared alright they were gone again.

"I'm good," Hayley nodded. "It was like a weight lifting off me," she put her hands to her chest. "Do your thing, k?"

Elena nodded. She crossed her legs and bent over her joined hands, repeating the words in her mind. The iron grew white hot against her wrists before snapping open and falling into her lap. She set them on the ground without a sound, meeting Hayley's eyes.

"Wait here."

She slipped off her shoes and moved to the door, peeking around the corner to count Agnes and six others; a ring she hadn't noticed marked the older woman as an elder. Based on what she knew of Marcel's dominion it was safe to assume she was the only one left.

She exhaled slowly, focusing on Agnes and one of the many spells Kol had taught her over the last month. She knew the moment it took effect by the sudden stilling of her body.

A short man noticed, jerking his head around and spotting Elena.

"Shit," he swore, lunging for a brass object on the table.

Elena's eyes widened when she saw the needle, darted back to Hayley and out into the room; in that brief span of time the man had made it across the room towards her.

Her hand shot out, knocking the needle aside to clatter over the floor. Only the knowledge of what had happened last time she indulged in witches' blood stayed her fangs; she broke his neck instead.

A second witch ran. Elena broke her neck before she could pick up the needle.

She kicked the brass backwards with her heel.

Two more witches rushed her, and lost their hearts for the effort.

The organs dropped from her open palms.

Her eyes flickered between the remaining witches. One was a burly man with heavy eyebrows and a heavier jaw. The other was a tiny slip of a woman who wouldn't have been out of place amongst fairies.

She arched an eyebrow, challenging those that would threaten unborn children and murder teenagers, hoping they would run so she could give chase.

The blood she had taken from Hayley was not enough.

In the other room Hayley jumped at the sound of strangled screams. She got to her feet, carefully stepping over the shackles, shoes and needle. At the door she paused, staring down at the piled bodies. She sidestepped, narrowly missing an extracted heart. She stared at the drops of blood on the floor until she got to Agnes and then looked up, following her paralyzed gaze to a narrow set of stone steps and the man at the base.

A few stairs up Elena held a young woman to the stone. Anybody looking down the stairs would have assumed they were locked in a lover's embrace, but Hayley knew better.

"Elena?" She tugged on her wrists.

She let the dead body drop, pressing her bloody hands to the wall; her pulse rushed in her ears as she licked the remaining blood from her lips.

"I told you to wait," she exhaled slowly. Her meal hummed through her veins just as euphoric as the first time; it was a shame Kol wasn't around.

"I tried to knit booties but I couldn't get my wrists to work," she held up her zip tied hands, "also, I don't knit."

Elena moved down the stairs at a slow pace, pausing to pull a white scarf from the dead woman's neck. She used the pristine material to wipe the worst of the blood from her hands.

"You missed one," Hayley nodded to Agnes.

"I need that one," Elena exhaled. She felt the buzz recede with each measured step. She tilted her head and closed her eyes, listening to the distant sound of approaching footsteps some twenty feet away. "We have to go."

Elena unhooked her earring and used the sharp edge to trip the bonds around Hayley's wrists. She flashed into the room that had served as their cell to step into her shoes, pocket the needle and lift the shackles. She returned to Hayley and snapped the iron on Agnes; her spell melted away when she was bound.

"Time to go," she gripped Agnes elbows. "I considered carrying you, but that's probably not a good idea in my condition, right?"

Agnes stared down at her hands; she had no choice but to follow when Elena pulled.

"How did you get out of these?"

"It's a gypsy secret," she winked. "You okay to walk Hayley?" She started up the stairs when Hayley nodded.

Outside she sucked in a deep breath of cool air and tried to place herself in the cemetery. It was not an easy task since the last time she was there was the seventies for a funeral, but before she could ask which way out the steps rounded the corner.

She wheeled on her heel, bracing for a fight. Her muscles tensed.

A woman came into view and Elena froze.

A hysterical sob rose in her throat. She ran, throwing her arms around the blonde.

"I guess you didn't need my help," Rebekah hugged her tight.

"No, but I appreciate it," she sniffed. Pulling back she winced at the red stain she had left on Rebekah's hair. "Sorry." Her eyes lit on Sage. "You guys came. I assume you both came. I can't see you coming to New Orleans without Finn."

"Who is Finn?" Hayley pushed Agnes between the shoulder blades, forcing her to walk towards the women and Sophie Devereux.

"My oldest brother," Rebekah supplied.

"Where is Finn? Where's Kol?" Elena looked around, expecting to see him rounding another corner.

---

A flick of his wrist broke Klaus' neck and he turned around, stepping to where Finn had Elijah in a headlock.

"May I?" He met his elder brother's gaze.

"Be my guest," Finn let go.

Kol's eyes dropped to Elijah, narrowing as he tilted his head. Blood spurted from his mouth over his chin as he choked.

A dainty cough came from his left.

He lifted his chin, eyes widening.

"Darling," he cleared his throat.

Elena's eyes flickered to Elijah as he slumped over and coughed up blood. "Don't stop on my account," she lifted an eyebrow. "I'm gonna take a shower."

"Upstairs," Rebekah nodded, "third door on the left; help yourself to my closet."

"Thanks," she murmured. She took the stairs two at a time.

The bedroom was decorated in pale blue and silver, but she ignored it all in favor of the ensuite bathroom with the marble shower. She left her dirty clothes in a pile and moved to take off her necklace before remembering that Agnes had taken it.

She lost her senses for a few moments under the hot spray of water. It washed away the remnants of the plane, the dirt from the cemetery and the blood from the witches. She scrubbed her skin until it glowed pink and then scrubbed some more. When all of the blood was gone from beneath her nails she finally let her hands flatten over her small belly.

Did she imagine the blue veins beneath her fingers?

The world faded away to the space between heartbeats as she felt her stomach and the slight shift of her hips, so small neither she nor Kol had noticed; maybe it was in her head, but she thought she felt it.

Was that why her perfectly good bra had dug into her skin?

Her body hadn't changed in a century, but in the span of a week she had completely missed the subtle shifts in the body she should have known better than anything.

She tasted salt on her upper lip and inhaled sharply.

She lifted her hands, scrubbing them back over her face and pushing her hair over her shoulders. Turning off the flow of water she twisted her hair to wring it out before stepping out of the shower.

She took a fluffy towel from the rack to wrap around her body and approached the mirror, reaching out to wipe the glass.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the second reflection.

"Are your brothers in one piece?" Weariness sparkled in her usually bright eyes.

"I'm sorry," he held her elbow, lowering his head to kiss her damp shoulder. "I got distracted when you needed me."

"I didn't need you," she closed her eyes, leaning into his chest. "It would have been nice to have, but I didn't need your help. What set that off?"

He hesitated before curling his arms around her waist and flattening his palms on her stomach. The locket around his fingers pressed into the towel.

"Nik wanted to kill Sophie Devereux," he watched her face in the mirror. "I was of a different opinion after she mentioned the Needle of Sorrows."

"She told you, then?" Elena's chest rose and fell.

"And brought this," he flipped his hand over.

She fingered the locket and felt a small smile tug at her lips. She lifted her wet hair and sighed as he fastened it in place.

"Elena," he urged her to turn around and held her waist, eyes flickering toward her abdomen.

He opened his mouth to speak but paused, feeling the air shift and pulse a split second before every shook. Distant yells reached his ears as he sped Elena into the doorframe. The house shook around them, dislodging several oil paintings from Rebekah's walls.

Elena's heart pounded faster the longer the earthquake lasted. Anxiety curled down her spine inciting a deep seated panic in her stomach.

The earthquake passed as soon as it began, and she pushed him back so she could run across the room.

"Elena," he caught her arm at the bedroom door, "where are you going? We have to talk about this?"

"Kol," she sighed, eyes darting toward the hall, "we've got bigger problems right now than the growing inside me. Don't worry, it'll keep."

She pulled her arm free and ran into the hall calling Elijah as she went.

Notes:

How does Elena feel about everything? How does Kol feel? Will any of it matter if they can't save Davina?

Chapter 24

Her hair hadn't dried yet, choosing instead to soak into Rebekah's borrowed blouse and transform the material into something uncomfortable and transparent around the shoulders. She despised letting the dark tresses air dry, but she had run from the mansion without a thought to her appearance, barely taking the time to ensure she was decent; somehow that was the image that stuck with him.

The second quake before she reached Elijah had only made her antsier; personally it was the wind that had set him off.

He really wished he had something to do besides dwelling on his thoughts and her words.

He doubted his abilities to help her current task, however with Elijah in charge of the elixir there was nothing else to do aside from watching the witches, a task that Rebekah had taken over, citing his history of blind rage and the importance of Agnes.

So he found himself left to his own devices while his siblings cleaned the mess he made and Elena left to reason with a moody teenager.

He shook the broken crystal from the inside of one of two unharmed glasses, poured two fingers of bourbon, stared at the liquid and then filled the tumbler to the brim.

"Thirsty?"

He glanced over his shoulder as Finn strode into the sitting room.

"Evidently I have looming problems," he downed the glass, refilling it.

"And the alcohol is helping?" Finn dusted off a chair and sat.

"No," he drank.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he downed a third glass and refilled it. "Yes," he sighed.

He dropped into the seat beside Finn and braced his elbows on his knees, staring at the half filled tumbler.

"Elena..." he inhaled slowly, "... She wanted to put off the conversation."

"Conversation?"

Kol sipped his bourbon, licking his lips.

"She's pregnant," he sighed. "Impossible, I know, but she is."

"Yours?" Finn cleared his throat.

"No, Nik's," he rolled his eyes, "of course it's mine."

"And that's a problem?" Finn arched a brow.

"She said one problem at a time," he tipped the glass back and forth. "The elixir will be here in a few hours, and then the Harvest."

"And then you'll discuss the 'problem'," he nodded, tilting his head. "Elena doesn't seem like the type of woman to view a baby as a problem; she raised one, and from what I understand she was prepared to raise him with you."

"That was different," his stomach dropped.

"I fail to see how," Finn frowned.

"Because this one is mine," he snapped. "She loves kids – I know she loves children – but you can't deny that we are all a little touched in the head, Finn." He shook his head, staring at the tumbler. "Maybe that's the problem."

Finn pulled the glass from his hands. "You need to relax. Elena just received impossible information a century after she gave up on the idea of ever carrying her own child. Perhaps she can't fully comprehend it, so she's focusing her energy on what she can understand."

"What if she doesn't want it?" His voice was so quiet Finn almost missed it. "I can't make her..."

"You want it, don't you?" Finn saw the truth in his baby brother's eyes. "Talk to her before you jump to conclusions. I doubt your legacy is what worries her."

"How can you be so sure of that?" He scoffed, shaking his head.

"You may be a demon, Kol," he clapped his shoulder, "but Elena – despite her nature - is quite obviously an angel; you'll balance each other out. Besides, there is a chance the child will take completely after her."

Kol couldn't stop the huff of amusement, but he sobered quickly. "There's a chance I'm right."

"Talk to her, brother," he sighed meeting his eyes, "and try to remember that there are more issues at play than the Mikaelson madness."

---

"Are you certain she's still here?" Elena stared up at the brick facade of St. Anne's; the surrounding street seemed to have suffered the worst of the earthquake.

"Marcel wouldn't have had time to move her," Thierry glanced sideways. "Did you have to beat him so hard?"

She spun to stand in front him, reached up and cupped his cheeks.

"He hurt my baby," her eyes hardened, "and nobody hurts my baby." She stretched up, kissing his cheek. "This will probably take awhile, so why don't you go over to the Cauldron and check on Katie? Make sure she's not stuck under some shelves."

He lowered his eyes.

"Thierry, what's...oh no," her heart stuttered. "Oh no... baby. What happened?"

"I uh..." he lifted his chin and found a spot on the bricks to stare at. "I killed a vampire that attacked her, and she..." a tear slipped down his cheek. "She knew what would happen, so she tried to k-kill Marcel."

He shook his head.

"One thing at a time, right?" He stepped back. "I'm gonna check the side streets – make sure nobody's hurt. I can grieve later. She's in the attic."

Elena watched him go for a moment before closing her eyes and inhaling slowly. A gale force wind tore through the street, knocking her sideways. She gripped the railing, using it to guide her inside.

She hurried through the sanctuary aisle passed the sacristy and up the stairs. She followed the clatter of window shutters to a threshold she couldn't cross.

Beyond the open door she saw the young girl shivering and struggling against an invisible force.

"Davina?" She called. "You need to let me in. I can help you."

Tears swam in large blue eyes, tugging at Elena's heart; she ran inside when the girl whispered her invitation and knelt. She pressed the heel of her palm to Davina's sternum and whispered, listening to her heart and breathing slow.

The wind calmed with her.

Once, she had felt the endless stretch of time and had done everything in her power to speed it up, but now that time was no longer on her side and she should have been hurrying along, she couldn't bring herself to do it before Davina was emotionally ready to talk, so Elena smoothed sweat damp hair from Davina's face and hummed a snippet of song concealed in the corner of her mind until that exact moment as her strong arms held the girl to her chest.

She could give her a minute, so she did.

She hummed while Davina drew in ragged breaths and sniffled and when she did look up Elena met her red rimmed eyes.

"What are you?" Confusion swam in her gaze. "I felt you using magic earlier."

"I'm a witch and a vampire," Elena sat back on her knees, brushing some damp earth away. "You threw this up, didn't you?"

Davina looked down and blinked fast, but tears still slipped out. Elena grasped her hands.

"I need you to stay calm, okay? Just stay calm; if you get upset you'll only make it worse," Elena drew in a slow breath. "You know what's happening?"

"I'm dying?" She swallowed.

"Yes," Elena nodded. "I won't lie to you, Davina. You can ask anyone and they'll tell you that Elena Gilbert is a terrible liar. I suck at it." She tried for a laugh, but it didn't quite come out. "The magic from the other Harvest girls is consuming you, and it's gonna take the city with it; you can save everyone by completing it."

Davina scrambled backwards. "The witches sent you!"

"No," Elena held up her hands. "I sent myself, and I don't do anything for people who would murder innocent children. If I could undo this mess I would, but I can't. I can't guarantee that the Harvest works and I can't promise to save your friends, but I can try to save you, and you can save everyone in New Orleans."

"How?" Davina searched her eyes as Elena smiled.

"There's this elixir."

---

"How is she?" Kol cleared his throat, startling Elena from whatever thought had puckered her brow.

Elena glanced back toward the bedroom where she had placed Davina under the effects of a light sleeping spell.

"She was anxious," her fingers drummed over the table near the door.

"She's still in agreement, though?" Kol lifted her hand and gave her cold fingers a squeeze. His attention was split between her pale features and Davina's erratic heart. "I don't enjoy the idea of dragging a screaming child to her death."

"She'll do it; she's just scared, and her fear makes her deteriorate faster," her breath quickened," and the longer it takes for the elixir to get here..."

He cupped her cheeks and tipped her head up to meet her eyes.

"You need to calm down, my love," he murmured. "There were a few delays because of the weather, but someone from Mystic Falls should be here soon and then this will be over. Why don't you go outside and get some air?"

"I can't," she shook her head. "I have to watch Davina in case she..."

"I can sit with her," he cut her off, "and if she wakes up I can put her back under. Go and get some air, or blood," his thumb stroked her pale cheeks, "I'll find you if anything changes. I promise." He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

She nodded with her eyes closed and exhaled. In a daze she took the stairs and found the kitchen. The stocked fridge beckoned to her, specifically a bowl of grapes and a bag of B-positive. She took both out onto the porch, placed them on one chair and sat in the other.

She toyed with the bag of blood, but lifted her gaze to the sky.

Grey clouds roiled overhead, blotting out the setting sun and casting ominous shadows over the gravel drive.

Purple and green flashed through the heavens. She didn't even realize she had moved out from the veranda until the sky cracked open and the first droplets of water hit her hair.

No amount of magical sedation could stop what was coming.

Had she really been lying on a beach a few days ago?

She tipped her face upwards and the rain fell down. It soaked through her hair and plastered Rebekah's blouse to her chest, washing away the anxiety of the afternoon. She smoothed the wrinkles from her shirt, hands stopping on her abdomen.

Thunder rumbled.

Lightening flashed.

A million cells multiplied in her forgotten womb, creating a life that should have never existed.

She sucked in a breath and shook her head.

"One problem at a time."

Her eyes opened, flickering to the rental car as it crunched over dark earth and splashed through a puddle; they narrowed when the driver stepped from inside with a large umbrella.

She hurried over and slipped underneath.

"Damon," her head tilted to the left, "what are you doing?"

"Rebekah called Matt and said you needed the elixir," he reached into his pocket. "The quarterback called Stefan and I volunteered to bring it down here."

"You brought me something you don't believe in?" Her brows lifted. "Why?"

"Maybe I wanted to see you," his eyes twinkled. "Didn't you miss me?"

She ignored the question and took the familiar bottle with a murmured 'thanks' and moved to run inside.

"Elena?" He grabbed her arm.

She pulled it free and shook her head.

"One problem at a time."

She left him staring after her and raced inside, pausing long enough to show Rebekah the prize and tell her to get the witches.

It was time to finish the Harvest

---

Truthfully she had feared the wrath of fire most. There was nothing quite as beautiful and destructive as fire. The city had known its rage twice since the arrival of the Mikaelson clan. She had felt that deadly heat on her skin –pulled Marcel from its jaws before he could be consumed by the ravenous hunger.

She had rebuilt the city in the wake of the tragedy with Marcel – her friend. She knew the devastation first hand.

Fire fueled by magic would be a million times worse.

Thankfully Davina had consumed the elixir and allowed Agnes to complete the Harvest. The earth lay still. The wind ceased. The rain tapered off.

For whatever reason, Davina trusted her.

Thousands lived, freed from agonizing death.

Davina trusted her.

She led the girl here.

She brought the calm.

She beckoned the quiet.

Davina trusted her.

Davina trusted her and now she laid with a great slash in her throat, blood soaking into her white dress. She appeared a mess next to the other girls.

The seconds ticked by, testing the convictions of the witches and the strength of Elijah's elixir. A sinking sensation gripped her gut, and she didn't know if she was going to explode, cry or throw up.

She stared at them as her breathing slowed, and then something happened; she swore their features changed into variations of her face and Kol's.

It was Sophie's broken sobs that ripped her from the macabre sight. Her gaze landed on Agnes, and she knew what she was going to do.

There were no syllables to her scream, just rage. It tore from her throat as she tore the heart from Agnes chest and knocked her head off with a backhanded swing. Blood sprayed.

She shook under the shower of red, keeping her back to the others.

"Elena," Kol reached for her arm.

If it had been just him she would have sunk into his arms, but four innocent girls were dead and tears were prickling her eyes and everyone was watching and she hated people watching her cry.

She knew her voice would break, so she said nothing and pulled away, vanishing from the cemetery.

There was absolutely no chance that she would make it to the governor's mansion, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt halfway down Dauphine; it was too far and Thierry was on the other side of the river. Kol's house had burned in 1919 and the Playhouse lay behind.

A single option dangled in midair; she took it, skidding to a stuttering halt in the empty courtyard.

She fell to her knees, letting her tears fill the fountain.

She cried until she had nothing left to give and then pressed her heated brow to the freezing stone, barely acknowledging the sudden approach of feet beyond a broken 'go away'.

She was almost in control; all she had to do was refrain from thinking about Davina or it – her fingers twitched toward her belly.

"Elena?"

Oh no, her spine stiffened. "Leave me alone," she whispered.

"How can I leave you alone when you're upset?" He crouched, pulling her up to sit on the fountain's edge.

"I'm..."

"Don't tell me you're not," Damon rolled his eyes, "you've got misery written all over your face."

Her mouth snapped shut. She looked away; as if that would negate what he had seen.

"It was him, wasn't it?" Damon didn't give her a chance to respond. "I've heard rumors about Kol Mikaelson. They say he's a psychotic maniac."

Elena almost snorted at Kol's affectionate nickname for himself, but she didn't trust her voice to speak, and even if she did she wouldn't have known what to say. Damon had made up his mind a long time ago to hate the Originals.

"Did he hurt you?" He didn't believe her head shake. "You don't have to lie for him."

"I'm not lying, Damon," she crossed her arms. The show of defiance had the added benefit of halting her trembles.

"You're not telling the truth," he countered. "What's really bugging you Elena?"

"It's none of your business," she gritted her teeth. Under her crossed arms butterflies swarmed.

"I'm trying to help-"

"How?" Elena cut him off. "How are you trying to help me? How is bad mouthing my lover supposed to help me? How is turning me into a victim supposed to help me?"

Fresh tears sprang up in her eyes. She stood abruptly when he reached for her.

"You're not helping me," her voice crackled. "Why did you come here? Where..." she gasped for breath. ".Where's Caroline? Where's Jeremy and Ric? Where's B-Bonnie? Any one of them would have come instead. Why you?"

"Blondie wanted to come," he stood, stalking toward her. "She said I shouldn't come, but I told her I wanted to apologize to you."

She sniffed and squared her shoulders. "Go on, then."

"I didn't come here to apologize, Elena," he scoffed. "Why would I? You and your psychotic boy toy both broke my neck, but I'm looking passed that. I came here to take you home."

"I am home," she shook her head; a tear slipped free. "New Orleans is my home..." as she said it she knew it wasn't true. Home wasn't a place anymore, and it hadn't been for a while. "He is my home."

"And you've clearly been compelled," he reached for her arms.

"I'm an original," she sobbed. "I can't be compelled."

She hated herself for the tears. She wasn't sad. She was angry and frustrated, but someone – and she suspected she knew who – had rearranged the emotional triggers in her head.

"Something's going on," he succeeded in grabbing her elbows. "Or else you wouldn't be crying. I'll take you home and Bonnie can fix it."

She pulled her arms free, fully prepared to shriek that she was crying because she was pregnant, but before she could open her mouth Damon flew through the air and crashed through the door into the bar.

She quickly realized where all of Marcel's vampires had been when music spilled out of the room she had once soundproofed; it cut off as Damon's body broke a table.

She was still staring when Kol appeared in the room and hoisted Damon by the back of his neck. It wasn't much of a fight, not that she had expected one; a newly turned Original could handle a vampire two centuries their senior with ease. It was after that point when things got messy.

Elena hurried into the bar, ducking out of the way of flying glass. A large hand pressed a small pile of napkins against her palm. She glanced down and followed the dark arm up to Marcel's abnormally pale features – still healing; he said nothing, just met her red eyes for a second then turned back to the fight.

In those precious seconds she somehow missed Kol finding the metal baseball bat that had once been Thierry's in the 1920's.

It swung and met skin with a sickening thud.

Pure rage flared in Kol's eyes. He brought the bat down once... twice... three times.

The aluminum broke.

He drove the sharp end through Damon's back, puncturing organs, severing the spine and pinning him to the floor.

Damon coughed up blood.

Kol kicked his ribs; growling between kicks.

"Did... you... not... learn after last time?"

Elena felt certain she had missed a part of the conversation.

"What would make you think she'd go anywhere with you?"

"I..." Damon wheezed, struggling against the bat, "I figured she w-would have come to her senses; thought she'd be ready to escape the family that ruined her life."

She recognized the mistake before Damon did, and if Kol said anything else it was lost under the blows. She heard nothing until he broke a piece of wood and Damon begged for mercy.

It was pitiful, really; she considered stepping in but her reflexes were slow. It didn't matter though since Kol's arms were yanked backwards and he was restrained by his oldest brothers.

Elena turned her head to the left when a hand settled on her elbow.

"Are you okay?" Rebekah whispered.

She nodded, looking back to the middle of the room where Kol was reluctantly dropping the wood.

He kicked it away, holding up his palms.

Elijah exchanged a look with Finn; together they let go.

Kol sucked in a slow breath and stepped away. He crouched and lifted Damon's head; his voice held a dark promise.

"The next time you come anywhere near my Elena, or try to take her away from me. I'll make you suffer a more painful death then you could ever imagine. Have I made myself clear?"

When Damon didn't answer Kol stood and gave him a sharp kick in the ribs, repeating himself louder.

"Yes," Damon choked.

Kol straightened his jacket. He caught Elena's eye and held her gaze for a moment before running from the bar.

Elena used the napkins to wipe at her cheeks, looking between Elijah and Finn who were both staring at her.

"What?" She balled up the napkins. "I didn't do anything."

"I think that's the point, love," Rebekah rubbed her arm.

Suddenly she felt the stares of everyone. There was no use explaining what had happened. They saw an act she could have prevented, or at the very least lessened.

She lowered her eyes.

"I'm gonna go find Kol," she murmured.

"I'm going to get a few whacks in,"Rebekah rubbed her hands together. She rolled her eyes when Elijah sighed.

"What? Do you like Damon now?"

"Of course not," he scoffed, "but it's unsporting to kick a man when he's down. Marcellus," his eyes flickered across the room, "how's the spleen?"

"Regenerating."

That was the last thing Elena heard before running upstairs.

---

His hands ran backwards through his hair, tugging sharply on the strands. He hadn't been able to stop. Outrage had burned through him the second he saw Damon's hands on her.

What had she told him? What was Bonnie going to 'fix'? Was Damon right? Had he ruined her life?

He hadn't been able to stop. He was going to kill him. He was going to kill someone she called friend; part of him still wanted to.

He needed to do something, anything but wait out the silence; it was maddening.

He gripped the bedpost, considered breaking it. The bedroom door opened before he could come to a decision.

"That was a little possessive."

"I'm a possessive man," he sighed, meeting her bright eyes. "I would have been here sooner; he never would have touched you."

She padded across the bedroom floor, not angry merely curious. "What kept you?"

"The Harvest," he inhaled slowly. "The girls woke up after you left; that's one problem dealt with."

Elena's heart fluttered.

"That means it's time to discuss the next one," his eyes slid to her stomach; he missed the knot in her brows. "If you don't want the baby, just tell me because I can't deal with this quiet."

"What are you talking about?" She closed the distance to lift his chin. "Of course I want the baby. Why wouldn't I want the baby? It's the perfect blend of you and me."

She took his hand to place on her stomach.

"Hopefully more you than me," he swallowed.

He had never been one for tears – he couldn't even remember the last time he had cried – but he could feel the pressure behind his eyes. "Why did you call it a problem?"

"I wasn't talking about the baby Kol," she sighed, pulling him down and sat on the edge of the bed. "I was talking about your aunt. I knew we'd have to deal with her eventually because of Hayley but then everything got really personnel really fast, and there was so much going on, and I just needed to think of something else."

She took a quick breath after the rush of words.

"I'm sorry if I made you think something else."

"I'm sorry for nearly killing your friend."

"It's Damon; odds are he deserved half of it, and he will heal and hopefully finally get the message to leave me alone." She managed a small laugh.

Quiet settled around them, not quite as heavy as before. The moment stretched out until Kol's voice broke it and reminded Elena how easy it was to lose explanations in chaotic situations.

"My aunt?"

Notes:

The last few chapters of this fic are going to have time jumps throughout Elena's pregnancy as the family deals with the coming threats. One chapter at the start of Elena's second trimester, one shortly after Hayley has Hope and one when Elena and Kol's child is born.

Chapter 25

2 Months Later

---

12:13am and she was still awake, dividing her time between staring at the ceiling and the glowing numbers of the alarm clock. A minute ticked by followed swiftly by another and another.

She had tried everything short of a sleeping spell, and if she wasn't afraid of worrying Kol she would have woken him and asked. He probably would have done it after assuring her that she had nothing to worry about because for the first time in over a thousand years he and Klaus were on the same page; they would rip Dahlia apart before they let her take either child.

It was sweet.

It was also a shame that neither of them truly understood her fears. They couldn't grasp the concept that tearing Dahlia apart was not an option, nor could they seem to understand that Dahlia was stronger than Esther.

She couldn't shake the feeling that dear auntie Dahlia would destroy them all from the inside out to get to the children.

So on top of worrying about the baby and Dahlia she was worried about Kol and Hayley and shockingly Klaus as well; not to mention the rest of the family.

She rolled over and tucked her arm under the pillow, smiling softly as Kol moved with her. His hand slipped over her waist to her stomach, settling above the steady bump of their child's heart. He had told her he could hear it now, and she hadn't had it in her to say that she could feel it deep inside. She could feel that tiny heart thumping away, each ba-bump one less second that she could protect it from everything dark on the outside. She didn't know how to tell Kol that she feared bonding with the child she already felt was a part of her, or that if she lost that tiny miracle it would have been like losing a vital organ.

How could she tell him that she dreamed of a faceless woman ripping her heart from her arms?

The sad truth of the matter was that nobody truly understood what they were up against, not even Finn who had vague memories of his older sister being stolen away.

There was only one person who possessed the knowledge that could give them a fighting chance.

She glanced over her shoulder at Kol's smooth features. A layer of scruff covered his jaw lending a few years to his appearance. Silently she slipped out from under his arm and stood up, shivering as the cool air hit her naked skin. She pulled on a pair of slightly too tight jeans and a shirt that pulled around belly, and made a mental note to go shopping at some point in the near future.

Her eyes snapped to the bed when Kol shifted, but he was simply rolling onto his back. All she wanted to do was kiss him before she walked out the door, but he was a notoriously light sleeper, so she grabbed her jacket and left with one last look.

---

"Why exactly am I here?" Monique yawned, rubbing her eyes. A mountain of piled school work had kept her up late every night for the last two months, so she was not pleased at being woken at the midnight hour, not even by the woman who had finally managed to bring the Harvest through to completion.

"Because you volunteered," Elena tugged down her shirt; the material kept riding up.

"I didn't want to wake Aunt Sophie," she crossed her arms, blinking at an antique doll head. "She worked a double shift. Aren't you super powerful? Couldn't you have done this yourself?"

"I couldn't do this," Elena chewed her bottom lip. "One of your ancestors used a blood seal on this house. I could walk in, but without a Deveraux I can't walk back out." Elena stared up at the old cottage.

"So all Monique has to do is let us back out?" Davina leaned on the gate.

"You're going in there?" Monique gaped. "It's a mad house!"

"I can't let her go in alone," she shook her head.

"I can handle myself Davina," Elena's fingers twitched, tugging at her shirt.

"You shouldn't have to."

Elena watched Davina push open the gate and move up the path before she turned towards Monique.

"I shouldn't be any longer than a half hour."

"I'll be waiting with baited breath," Monique sighed. She stared at the closed door after they were gone; the spell in her hand crinkled.

Inside the house Elena sucked in a deep breath and spun in a slow circle. The entry hadn't changed much in her century of absence. The only additions were a pair of portraits leading into a study.

"Where do we have to go?" Davina interrupted her thoughts.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I'll be looking for a door that hasn't been opened in a century."

"We'll cover more space if we split up," Davina glanced towards the dusty portraits. "I'll start downstairs?"

"Okay," Elena nodded. "Do you remember how to make yourself invisible? You may have to if someone hears you."

"I'll be fine."

Elena blinked slowly and took a deep breath before taking off up the stairs.

Davina moved towards the portrait as if pulled by an unseen force. Her fingers dusted the plaque, but the letters were too worn down to read, however the gentle motion dislodged the frame. A small envelope dropped onto the floor.

She bent to retrieve it, pulling the paper inside free without thinking about it when she saw the name: Mary Alice Claire.

Christmas, 1914

It was a happy time for New Orleans, the skies were clear, liquor flowed, but then something changed. After the Original vampire Klaus Mikaelson woke his brother from an eighty year slumber, curse after curse befell the city. War threats, the bubonic plague: signs of a war waged between two factions of witches: those who aligned with Klaus, and those of us who placed our bets with someone else.

Kol Mikaelson taught us a new kind of magic that he had learned on the shores of the Red Sea. Kemiya, he called it.

Using a perfect paragon diamond to focus our power we created a bracelet to force obedience, a rosary to drive men to madness and shackles to halt a witches power; all a means to an end. His main goal was to create a weapon that would work on Klaus and Klaus alone, so we began our quest to create a weapon laced with so much power it would plunge the infallible Klaus Mikaelson into a magical slumber.

I trusted Kol, despite his reputation as a mad cap trickster.

I would pay dearly for it.

Everything was fine until she showed up.

We toiled tirelessly, driving ourselves half mad in the process, while his attention shifted all at once to the doppelganger. I did everything he wanted, but he chose her.

Davina's eyes narrowed; her mouth formed the word, but it was a moment before she remembered where she had heard it. When she did summon up a memory of Klaus using the term to address Elena her eyes widened.

Whoever had written the memoir had known both Kol and Elena, and it was pretty clear the woman didn't care for either of them.

Our efforts were in vain though as the diamond in our possession was too small, but there was another located in this house.

Davina forgot about searching the house and slid to the floor as she devoured the neatly written pages that slowly slipped into madness.

Upstairs Elena tested the last door in the hall. It swung towards her on silent hinges revealing stairs covered in a thick layer of dust. She had seen horror movies – Caroline, despite her perky nature, had a thing for them; she could practically hear herself and Caroline screaming at the stupid heroine not to go into the attic of a mad house.

She didn't listen.

Her feet left the first footprints in however many years as she ascended and found another door. She bent, blowing the dust from the doorknob and sneezing as it hit her nose.

She tried the door and found it locked up tight.

She attempted a spell that failed miserably.

Then she placed her palm over 'the bump' and closed her eyes. She lifted her wrist and bit down, letting a few drops fall on the knob. The door swung open with ease.

The attic was all but empty save for a long pine box elevated on a table and topped with grimy glass.

"Why is every member of this family so morbid?" She sighed, grumbling about stupid Vikings and their burial habits.

A little more blood on the coffin lid broke the seals.

Elena lifted the glass away and closed her eyes, murmuring the spell she had been mulling over for weeks until she heard the slowly beating heart speed up.

Freya released a sleepy groan, turning her head away from the moonlight coming through the attic window.

"Come on," she murmured, leaning over the open lid. "Nap time is over; it's time for the forgotten to be remembered."

"Elena?" She croaked, blinking up blearily. "What are you doing?"

"I came for you, sleeping beauty," she smirked. She lifted Freya and placed her on her feet – a part of her tensed, waiting for Kol to teasingly scold her for heavy lifting, but then she remembered he wasn't there; he was at the compound sound asleep. "I need your help again."

"Can I wake up first?" Freya rubbed her eyes.

"As long as you walk while you do it," Elena nodded. "We've got to get outside."

She led the way downstairs, keeping one arm around the blonde's waist as she stumbled. At the bottom of the stairs she paused, eyes finding Davina. The teenager's head snapped up; an unknown emotion swam in her blue eyes.

"Is it true?" She stood, holding up a handful of yellowed pages.

"Is what true?" Elena frowned. She left Freya leaning against the table and went into the study.

"What Mary Alice Claire wrote about you?" Davina followed after her towards the window. "What she wrote about Kol?"

Elena stiffened. That was a name she had never wanted to hear again in her life, but she supposed eternity was too long to go.

"She essentially calls you a two faced boyfriend stealing bitch," Davina waved the pages. "That you planned to trap her in this house."

"If she said that then she truly lost her mind in the end," Elena pushed the curtains aside. Her eyes narrowed as she stared towards the empty street. "Where's Monique?"

---

Hayley paced the length of the study, fingers drumming over her swollen stomach. Every few seconds she checked the time on her phone.

"Will you relax?" Rebekah snapped, flipping through a magazine a little too fast to support the illusion that she was actually reading it. "Elena is fine."

"She should have been back by now," Hayley crossed her arms.

"Elena is fine. She is strong and she's smart," Rebekah's foot jiggled, "she will be back before we know it."

"She said she'd be back in an hour."

"She's fine."

"Now look me in the eye and say it," Hayley cocked an eyebrow. She didn't understand why Elena hadn't wanted Kol to know where she was going in the dead of night; he would have gone with her. He would have done anything to make her happy.

Rebekah bit the inside of her cheek. Two hours had passed, and it wasn't like Elena to go over time without calling or checking in somehow.

"That's what I thought," Hayley rolled her eyes. "I'm waking him up."

"No," Rebekah snapped. In the blink of an eye she stood in front of her.

"Are you going to stop me?" Hayley placed her hands on her hips, fully displaying her pregnant belly. "Because I will fight, and then you're fighting with a pregnant woman; not exactly classy."

Rebekah sighed, shaking her head. "Wait here," she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'll wake him up."

"Why don't you want me to do it?"

"Because he's gonna be pissed off," she sighed before racing up the stairs.

In the bedroom she tilted her head and considered for a moment before nodding to herself and bending over to flick his ear.

"What's going on?" He jerked, sitting up. His wide eyes darted around the room, empty but for his sister by the bed and Hayley in the door.

"Elena went to the Fauline cottage," Hayley crossed her arms.

"She what?" He snapped, wide awake.

Rebekah easily held him down with a hand on his shoulder. She was definitely enjoying the superior physical strength she possessed.

"Don't be an over-protective wanker," she dug her nails into his arm. "She's perfectly capable of handling herself, and there is no remaining trauma from when she died there."

"She died there?" Hayley's eyes widened.

"Drove a knife through her own heart," Rebekah glanced back to the door. "She's never looked back on it though, and mentally she can handle it, but she's not back yet, and she said she'd be here an hour ago."

"Let me up, Bex," he seethed.

"As soon as you promise not to yell," she met his eyes.

"I'm not yelling," he snapped.

"I don't mean at me," she rolled her eyes. "You've been ridiculously over-protective of Elena since finding out about the baby. She didn't tell you because she knew you wouldn't want her to go."

"Of course I wouldn't…"

"Shut up," Rebekah slapped her free hand over his mouth. "She's freaking out, and she doesn't need you yelling because she did something foolish; what she needs is someone to help get her out of the nuthouse. Now, promise you won't yell."

"I'm not going to yell, Rebekah," he gritted his teeth.

"Good," she let him go, "because if you make her feel bad, even unintentionally, I will break your neck and find a witch to make a dagger that will work on you."

---

She was trembling. She never trembled, not even when she was ending her human life; her hands had been steady then, but now they shook. They shook so badly that there was no possible way she could actually read the writing on the pages the young witch had relinquished.

"We're stuck," she muttered, again and again. "She left. Why would she leave? Why would she leave?" Her voice grew steadily shriller until the girl she had called Davina had to shush her.

"Elena, calm down," Freya gasped. The pins and needles were slowly fading and she was starting to feel her limbs again.

"How am I supposed to calm down?" She sobbed, wrapping her arms around her midsection and sinking to the floor. "We're stuck in here, sitting ducks. I can't be in here. I can't be trapped. I can't be trapped. I can't be trapped."

"She's freaking out," Davina turned to the older witch.

"What an odd expression," Freya tilted her head. "But I understand your meaning." She stumbled when she tried to walk and leaned on the wall for support. She slid down to kneel beside the brunette who had begun to hyperventilate; nothing she said got through to her.

"Okay," Freya murmured, "I was hoping to be more awake before I did this, but…" she stood up and made her way slowly towards the double doors. She flattened her palms over the wood, ignoring the approach of dozens of feet.

"Destuccive glas stav enfala. Destruccive glas stav enfala. Apne en vrata, repo oma dal most."

Davina pressed herself against the wall as the doors blew outwards off their hinges and dozens of witches raced out into the night, several of whom were laughing maniacally.

"That might not have been the best idea," Davina worked with Freya to get Elena back on her feet. "How did you do that anyway? I thought we were sealed in."

"I could have gotten out at any time," Freya admitted, guiding Elena outside, "but I wanted that barrier in place."

She helped Elena sit on the curb and then pressed her palm to the brunette's sternum, murmuring a spell under her breath that forced her to calm down.

"Take some deep breaths," she instructed before turning her gaze on Davina, "why was that a bad idea?"

But Davina's attention had been stolen.

"Deep breath in," Freya slid her hand down to Elena's stomach. A jolt of energy raced up her arm as she lowered her gaze to the bump she hadn't seen.

"Elena!"

Freya twisted on her knees, eyeing the family she had spent centuries in search of as they came to a stop. Kol barely spared her a glance before kneeling and all but shoving Davina out of the way.

"Are you alright?" He held Elena's shoulders.

"I'm good," she nodded.

"She was 'freaking out'," Freya tilted her head, testing the phrase on his tongue.

Kol gave her a questioning look.

"I…" she lowered her eyes, "I may have had a small panic attack."

"Which is the very reason I didn't want you coming here-"

"Kol," Rebekah snapped.

"I'm not yelling," he closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. "You shouldn't have had to come back here," he gestured to the house, turning his attention to Elena.

"I wasn't freaking out because I died here, Kol," she grasped his grasped his elbows. "I was freaking out because we were stuck inside of a house I didn't think I could get out of, and she could have easily found me in there, but your sister broke us out."

"Sister?" Kol's brows lowered.

"Yes," Elena nodded, "Freya. I told you that."

"No you didn't," he shook his head.

"Yes I did," she crossed her arms. "We were in Greece and I was telling how I turned and…" Her voice trailed off as the full memory of the night came back.

"And then you didn't say anything beyond my name for the rest of the night," he cocked an eyebrow.

"And whose fault is that?" She tilted her head. Though she had to admit, not knowing that Freya was his sister helped her understand why he hadn't taken the Dahlia threat as seriously as she did.

"Could you two focus on what's important?" Rebekah sighed. "Like the sister Elena just woke up two years early."

"You woke me up early?" Freya leaned back. "Why would you do that?"

"I think you already know," Elena leaned back, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Freya's eyes dropped to Elena's stomach where she had felt the connection, and then lifted darting from Kol to Elena, stomach dropping as the brunette nodded.

"Okay," she closed her eyes and shook her head. "I need to wake up and then you can explain how this happened."

"Full disclosure," Rebekah cleared her throat, "Elena's not the only one pregnant."

---

"Okay," Elena sighed, falling back against the couch, "that's the house, how I turned, Freya, Mary Alice and Astrid… I think that's everything…" her eyes cut to Rebekah.

"Well, everything of importance," Rebekah hugged her legs and did her best to avoid her brother's eyes.

"Alright," Kol nodded slowly, "I just have one question. What happened to my house?"

Elena had spent the last hour telling Kol everything she could think of with one glaring absence. Rebekah doubted Kol would care but if Klaus overheard she'd at the very least get a dagger in her heart, and at worse the last piece of white oak driven through her heart; knowing her brother's legendary temper it would be the latter.

"It burned in 1919 when father came to town," Rebekah sighed, hoping he'd leave it at that. "Do you think Freya's awake yet?" She blurted before Kol could counter with how Mikael had found them. "I'll go and check."

She strode out of the room, narrowly missing Davina on the way in.

"Have I missed something?" Kol glanced after Rebekah's hasty retreat.

"Don't worry about it," she whispered and laid her hand on his leg, "everything turned out fine." Her eyes sought the young witch. "I didn't realize you were still here. Did you need something Davina?"

"Answers," she held out the paper. "You didn't give me one aside from her being out of her mind."

"What are you talking about?" Kol frowned; he reached for the papers, frown deepening when he read the date in a familiar handwriting. "Mary Alice Claire," he shook his head. "What has she said?"

"Not going to read it yourself?" Davina crossed her arms.

"I have no desire to hear that woman's voice again, not even in my head." He tossed the pages on the coffee table. "I assume she's made some allegations that you would like confirmed or denied, so go on; you have until Freya gets here."

Davina crossed her arms, watching the pair of them with narrowed eyes. "She says that you used her for your own selfish purposes, seducing her and tricking her into doing what you wanted. Then you completely ignored her for Elena." Her blue eyes cut to Elena accusingly. "She said you plotted to trap her in that cottage forever."

"Leave her out of this, little witch," Kol's voice dropped to a growl. "Mary Alice Claire was trapped in that cottage by Klaus' witches, and then she betrayed me."

"You're really gonna blame the jilted ex?" She scoffed. "You left her there after she went to help you!"

"I had no way to get her out of there, and she should have known it, perhaps even accepted it, but she couldn't." He got to his feet, towering over Davina. "She sent a letter to my brother, condemning Elena – a woman who had done nothing to her – to death in exchange for her freedom."

"She died in that house, so she clearly didn't get it," she glared up.

"Of course not," Elena shook her head. "I had no choice Davina. I had to turn in that house."

"You could have given her back her freedom," she shifted on her feet.

"If I had done that," Elena folded her arms over her stomach, "if I had let Elijah take me from that house then Klaus would have found the moonstone and broken his hybrid curse a hundred years ahead of a schedule, and who knows where we would all be right now. There was no choice Davina; I was backed into a corner that she forced me in. Without Freya's help history would have altered drastically."

"But you did use her," Davina turned her gaze back to Kol.

"I never once lied to her," his brows lowered. "I never treated her like anything other than the witch she was. It was always about putting a stop to Nik, and maybe having a little fun in the process."

"I didn't need to know that," Elena grimaced.

"Sorry love," he glanced over his shoulder, "but if it helps it never meant anything," his eyes turned back to Davina, "and I never pretended that it did, especially after Elena fell through the time. She dropped into my life and everything changed, and I drifted towards the bright light that she is."

"It's not my bloody fault that your ancestor had to be seduced to work with me. Not that it mattered in the end since we both failed. She couldn't make me love her, but Elena did, and without even trying. I'm thankful every day that she fell into my life, and do you know what? You should be eternally grateful to her as well because without Elena Gilbert you would be lying dead in a tomb in Lafayette and half this city would be right there with you."

Davina dropped in an armchair, watching as Kol held Elena's hand, giving her a soft look. She tilted her head, attempting to catalogue the information from the letter and the rumors from the Cauldron with the vampire she was starting to know.

"Is that the long winded way of saying I did steal you from her?" She chewed her bottom lip.

"The moment I laid eyes on you I was taken," he kissed her palm.

"Really?" She smirked. "The moment you laid eyes on me? Because for me it was later… much later…" she broke off in a laugh when he pulled her into his lap and started tickling her side. She managed to get hold of his hands and held them away from her skin so she could focus her attention back on Davina. "Does that answer your question?"

"Sort of," she blinked.

"Mary Alice probably did go mad in there," Elena shifted so her back was braced against Kol's chest. "I was only in there an hour when I started losing it."

"Yeah, but you're pregnant and hormonal and terrified of a thousand year old witch stealing your baby," Davina rolled her eyes.

"She's not taking our baby," Kol tightened his arms around Elena's middle.

"She will take the baby," Freya's voice came from the door. She strode into the room, taking a seat in an oversized armchair and arranging her nightgown around her legs. "Dahlia will come and she will take both children," her eyes darted to Hayley who was entering the room with the rest of the family. "She will take them because she believes she is owed them."

"If she comes we'll kill her," Klaus swore.

"Is that your first instinct, little brother?" Freya lifted her chin. "Dahlia has spent her life becoming all but immortal; she can't be killed, at least not easily."

"But there is a way?" Elena felt hope rise in her chest.

"I've been plotting to kill my aunt for centuries, and I have come up with a spell that will make her mortal again."

"How do we do that?" Kol tilted his head, listening to his child's heartbeat. He would bypass the question of why she had lied to him in 1914 for the time being.

"By exploiting her weaknesses," Freya pushed her messy hair over her shoulder. "The combination of her three greatest weaknesses when bound by magic will make her mortal."

"And what would those be?" Finn leaned against the wall. Every time he looked at the time hardened woman he saw his golden haired sister being carried away.

"Sacred soil from her homeland, the ashes of her oppressors and the blood of the witch who broke her heart," Freya took a deep breath. "If you can get me soil from Norway and Viking ashes I can take care of the rest."

---

Rebekah shoved her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels, watching with a bemused expression as Elijah gestured. The hand movements were familiar after a thousand years; they hadn't changed since the first time she and Kol had gotten in trouble as a children and it had fallen to him to discipline her.

"What were you thinking letting Elena go there?"

"Have you ever tried to stop Elena from doing something?" Hayley crossed her arms. "It's not possible when she's set her mind. You should know that better than me; I've only known her a few months."

Rebekah snickered, ducking to hide her face. She couldn't help but laugh when Elijah looked so taken aback; it was such a rare occasion that he was made speechless.

He recovered quickly.

"You two should have spoken up sooner, or ideally stopped her from going," he turned his attention to Elena, gesturing with his hand again. "You never should have gone there alone."

"I wasn't alone," Elena shook her head.

"A moody teenage witch is not a proper escort for you," his eyes narrowed.

"I'm a 115 year old Original hybrid," fire flashed in her eyes, "I rebuilt this city from the ground up and put the mighty Klaus down," she held up her hands in a clearly sarcastic wave, "I don't need an escort."

"You are carrying the next generation of this family," he motioned to her belly, "a child that is under threat. You, and you," he turned back to Hayley, "shouldn't be traveling anywhere alone. And you shouldn't be encouraging them."

"They're big girls and they can take care of themselves," Rebekah tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Why aren't you two more upset about this?" Elijah spun on his brothers.

"Hayley was never in immediate danger," Klaus shrugged.

"I was threatened by Rebekah with swift retribution if I yelled," Kol cleared his throat, "and we now have answers."

"From a sister we do not know," Elijah gestured to the stairs where Freya had for one of the bedrooms. "I don't trust her."

"In all honesty neither do I," Klaus glanced upstairs, and then towards Kol.

"I don't care if you trust her or not," Elena snapped, "because I do. Freya turned me. Freya got me out of that house, and Freya pushed towards the resources that allowed me to stay hidden. She hates Dahlia for stealing her childhood and she'll do whatever it takes to keep another child from suffering her fate. Hayley?"

"I don't know Freya," she shook her head, "but I trust you, and if you trust her that's enough for me."

Notes:

Next up the Hope's birth and the return of Caroline

Chapter 26

2 ½ Months Later

---

The old governor's mansion stood silent on the secluded acres outside the city. The only outward signs of inhabitation were the gleaming cars parked before the porch; without them nobody would have guessed the house was occupied by two hybrids, a vampire and a witch, but they were there.

Freya Mikaelson slept soundly in a room near her brother and Sage. Across the house, a silencing distance away was the only other occupied room.

Elena had wanted a little space from the noise of the Quarter, and the looming presences of his family; Kol had been only too happy to oblige. Finn had followed along with Sage, and Freya took up residence with them rather than chafe under the gaze of little brothers who didn't trust her as far as Hayley could have thrown her.

A crescent moon illuminated the bedroom with a sliver of light. It shone down on Elena's bare toes where they poked out from beneath the sheets she had done her level best to kick off.

In her sleep she nuzzled closer to Kol, hugging his waist. He stirred, as he always did when she moved; a thousand years of life hadn't cured him of light slumber. He blamed Klaus really; one too many times under a dagger and he was bound to rest uneasily, though it was easier with her in his arms… half on top of him.

I could get used to this; he fingered a strand of smooth hair. He was in the process of placing a kiss on the top of her head when she jerked up with a gasp.

"Elena?" He moved with her, reaching for her shoulders.

Her hands were pressed to her stomach, but he wasn't sure she actually heard his voice; she was too busy staring down at her stomach with wide eyes.

"Elena, darling," he turned her chin with his fingers, "you need to say something."

She opened her mouth; no sound came out.

"Is something wrong with the baby?" Panic gripped his heart.

She shook her head. Her breath hitched as tears swam in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" His brows lowered. "Elena," his tone sharpened, "are you alright?"

She made a vague motion with her head somewhere between a headshake and a nod to the point where it looked like she was bobbing in a circle. She couldn't find the words to describe what was happening – what had roused her from a reasonably deep sleep – so she took his hand from under her chin and flattened his palm over her belly button that had recently flattened.

A single tear slipped down her cheek as she waited for him to feel it. A moment passed and then champagne bubbles started popping under his hand; each one sent a small zap through her bloodstream.

"What is that?" He frowned; a strange feeling rose in his chest.

"It's…" she sniffed, wiping at her eyes. "It's the baby; she's kicking."

"She's kicking?" His eyes snapped up. "She?"

"Just a feeling," she shrugged. "Hayley said it felt like flutters, but I think it feels like bubbles."

"I just feel movement," he grinned. He gave her a gentle nudge, urging her to lie back down.

With Elena on her back he flipped up her shirt and brushed his lips over her taut skin in a tender kiss, scruff tickling her stomach.

She giggled.

"Now you listen to me young lady," he spoke in a semi-stern voice, "you need to keep your kicking to daylight hours so mummy can sleep; she doesn't get enough as it is."

"Are you giving our unborn baby a stern talking to?" She bit her lip to hide her smile.

"She woke you up." Under her skin more bubbles popped.

"That's nothing her daddy hasn't done on many occasions," she lifted her head. "A couple of times in this position," she smirked.

"I think you're misremembering, my love," his eyes sparkled, "I was several inches lower."

He expected her to laugh – maybe flirt – but he got a strangled sob in response. He didn't think much of it since her hormones had been triggering various out of place reactions.

He moved up her body, propped himself on his elbow and hovered over her.

"Why the tears, love? This is a happy moment," he stroked her cheekbone with his thumb.

"I… it…" she waved towards her rounded belly. It took her several tries to get the words out. "She's re…really in there. We… we're h-having a baby."

"What was your first clue?" He couldn't resist teasing her.

She rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder.

"Really though, my darling," he swooped down for a stolen kiss, "we've heard her heart beating for weeks."

"This is different," she cradled her stomach. "She's not just a ticking time bomb anymore…"

"Lovely analogy," he snickered.

"You know what I mean," she sighed, trying to roll over.

He stopped her with a hand on her hip, spinning her back and kissing her tear stained cheeks.

"I do know and you don't need to worry about Dahlia," he whispered. "We have the weapon to stop her."

"Klaus has the weapon to stop her," she amended.

"Well, Hayley is going to deliver before you," he kissed her forehead, "but I've gotten us off topic. You were comparing our baby to a time bomb?"

"I'm saying she's not," her fingers curled over his cheek. "She's… real…" more tears shimmered in her eyes. "There's this little person we made and she's kicking, and she's… real."

"She's very real, and hopefully you're right about her being a girl, or else he'll come out thinking we're both wrong all the time," he chuckled.

"We're only wrong some of the time," she rubbed her stomach.

"But nobody else needs to know that."

"Then maybe we should find out for sure," she pursed her lips.

"While you should never underestimate mother's intuition, I do have a spell for that," he sat up. "Give me your locket."

"Seriously?" She looked him up and down, pulling the necklace over her head when he nodded. "What is this going to do?"

"Your necklace will rotate." He steadied her locket so it hung straight down over her naval. "If it swings from side to side it's a boy, but if it swings in a circle it's a girl."

"I thought that was an old wives tale," Elena snickered.

"When accompanied by actual magic it is very real," he grinned. With a wink he said something in a language she didn't recognize.

Elena dragged her eyes from his face to the sudden swing of her necklace. The pendent swung in tiny circles as the baby kicked harder.

"I guess that settles it," he chuckled.

"Score one for mother's intuition," she grinned. "Maybe she's kicking because she wants beignets?"

"Or you're using that as an excuse for beignets," he shook his head.

"Would you deny the mother of your child her beignet craving?" She gasped, pressing her palm to her heart.

"I can't deny you anything," he chuckled. "I'll have you spoiled rotten by the time she comes along, and then I'll spoil you both."

"As long as you don't turn me into an authoritarian or her into an entitled brat, I'm happy," she refastened her locket.

"I can be strict," he gasped. "Did I not just discipline her?"

"She didn't listen," Elena hopped out of bed. "She already knows not to take you seriously."

He knelt on the edge of the bed, pulling her towards him with his hands on her hips.

"Or perhaps she just likes the sound of my voice," he smirked, bending to talk to the bump.

"Now if only she liked it for the calming effect," Elena sighed.

"If I were in any way calming I would not be the man you fell in love with."

"I happen to think you have a very calming presence." She looped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss.

"Only with you," he rubbed small circles over her shirt. "You make me calm… and crazy."

"I think that's a good thing?" She tilted her head.

"It's an excellent thing," he chuckled.

"You make me calm and crazy too," she grinned, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Now put on some clothes. I love the view, but I'm not sharing it with everyone in the French Quarter."

He watched her locate her shoes. "You really want those beignets, hmm?"

"Actually," she found her bra, fitting it in place under her shirt, "now I feel like gumbo. I think Rousseau's is still open."

"I'm not so sure about the kitchen, darling," he stood and pulled on a pair of jeans. The horrified set of her mouth made him chuckle.

"Don't worry, love," he pulled a shirt from the closet, "Rebekah assured me that Hayley's latest craving is Sophie Deveraux's gumbo, and that Elijah keeps a store of it in the compound's kitchen."

"So much for space," she hummed and then tilted her head. "Elijah, not Klaus?"

"Nik's not overly in touch with Hayley's needs."

"I'm pretty sure she likes it that way," she shook her head.

"They'll make great parents."

"It will be a miracle if their daughter turns out reasonably well adjusted."

---

The Mikaelson compound comprised two stories – three if one included the basement – sprawled over half a city block. There were three points of entry: the front door, the back door and the hidden door.

The hidden door was located within the walk in pantry next to the flour and opened on to a narrow set of stairs spiraling down to the prohibition tunnels.

"How did you know this was here?" Kol glanced back to the dusty stairs they had taken.

"I did live in this house from 1919 until I put myself to sleep," Elena snickered. She wrinkled her nose as dust flew. "I think Elijah had them added when Prohibition was rolling in… not that he ever put them to use."

"I see," Kol hummed. He shut the hidden door and brushed a cobweb from her shoulder. "What was wrong with the back door?"

She grunted, slumping her shoulders. "One of your brothers might have heard us come in," she tilted her head, "and I can't deal with either of them until I have my gumbo. What?"

She crossed her arms and lifted a single eyebrow watching him suppress a smile.

"Nothing, darling," he held her upper arms; a grin broke over his features. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she smiled, eyes darting to the pantry door.

"But right now you really want that gumbo?" He guessed, chuckling when she didn't answer. He leaned closer, to whisper against her ear. "What if I said I wanted you right here, right now? That I'd spend the rest of this night, and most of the day, bringing you unspeakable pleasure until you're unable to stand?"

She chewed her bottom lip, tipping her head back as his fingers teased down her arms.

"That's just mean," she breathed. It was a little embarrassing how easy it was too turn her on these days; he could do it with a single look. "Now I want you, but the baby wants the gumbo."

"Then let us take care of our daughter first," he kissed her cheek. His hand steered her towards the door.

The gumbo was easy enough to find; it was a rather large container on the center shelf of the refrigerator. Kol moved about preparing a bowl as Elena scrutinized the bags of blood. At some point in the past few weeks someone – probably Elijah – had rearranged the fridge, most likely to suite Hayley's cravings and morning sickness triggers, so the blood was stored in the meat tray where it was hidden from view.

"A positive," she murmured, flipping through bags, "O negative…" her eyes lit up as she reached the back. "AB negative," she squealed.

"Has she got a taste for the rare blood types?" Kol placed a steaming bowl on the island.

"Most definitely," she grinned.

Elena hopped onto the stool with a little awkward jump and opened the bag like a juice box. She sucked down a mouthful, moaning in pleasure at the rare delicacy.

"Amazing," she grinned.

"Is it worth Nik's wrath?" Kol tilted his head; mirth sparked in his gaze. "That is his favorite."

"I'll just blame you," she looked over his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her middle.

"You would throw me to Nik?" He gasped.

"You can handle yourself," she nudged his cheek with her nose.

She picked up her spoon and dipped it into the bowl. Her mouth watered as she stared at the tantalizing morsel. It was halfway to her mouth when the silent house came to life.

Crash; wood broke somewhere beyond the courtyard.

Her head snapped to the left.

For one never-ending moment silence reigned. Then, a scream of pure agony broke the air, followed by shouting, crashing and threats that would have made lesser people quiver in fear.

Her heart leapt into her throat.

She dropped the spoon with a clatter and jumped off the stool, but halfway to the door strong arms curled around waist. It was a grip she could have broken with ease had Kol not spun her around and met her eyes; what she saw there froze her in place.

"I will tear you apart!" Klaus' threat was followed by a muffled thud and a second screech from Hayley.

She tried to turn her face to the door. Kol cradled her cheeks.

"Please don't," he whispered.

"They need help," panic flashed in her eyes. "She's here, Kol." Elijah's voice had confirmed her fear. "She came for the baby. I have to…"

"No you don't," he shook his head, still whispering. He lowered one hand to her naval. "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to either of you, so please don't charge in there. Please, Elena?"

"Kol," she shook her head. Every instinct told her to help.

"I have never begged for anything in my life," he pleaded with his eyes, "but I am begging you now. Alright? I am begging you, darling."

The sounds of a struggle continued.

"I can't do nothing," she licked her lips. "She's stronger than your mother. What if she knows how to kill you?"

"I would rather lose my life than lose either of you," he held her gaze. "I want you safe, here with me always."

"That only works if you're here too," she grasped his arms. "Kol?"

"I promise I will come out the other side of this alive, but I need to know you're safe." His feet itched, urging him out towards the action as bones snapped. "And I know you can't sit back and do nothing; I learned that lesson in 1914."

She straightened her spine, scrutinizing his features before following his gaze towards the second door out of the kitchen.

"She's taken them unaware," he silently opened the door to the servant's stairs. "I'll try to distract her; you get the knife."

"It's in a safe."

"Since when has a lock stopped you?"

---

Kol raced into the courtyard, skidding to a stop at the fountain before he could step on Rebekah. He had barely reset her neck when Finn appeared and placed Freya on her feet.

"Do I want to know how?" His eyes darted from Freya to Finn and Sage. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen his oldest brother so unkempt, and Sage was in pajamas.

"Where the bloody hell did you lot come from?"

They turned to the open study together. Elijah's body had broken the door open; he lay on top of it with a broken neck and blood all over his shirt. Beyond the door Klaus was restrained against the far wall by magic and glaring at the witch standing over Hayley.

"Does it matter at this point?" Kol muttered. His question was lost under a string of profanity from Hayley.

"Dahlia," Freya's voice trembled, she swallowed, focusing.

"You have no business here, aunt," Finn strode toward the study.

"On the contrary," Dahlia glanced up from Hayley, "I have every right to be here. Your mother and I made a promise, and when I make a promise I keep it. It was quite the surprise waking early and learning of this child. You need to push dear."

"Fuck you!" Hayley grunted.

"Language, love," Kol flashed into the study. He shoved Dahlia into Elijah's mahogany desk, breaking her concentration and freeing Klaus; he dropped and wavered between attacking Dahlia and rushing to Hayley.

"I'll swear if I want to swear," Hayley gasped. "I bet Elena swears too when she's pushing your baby into the world."

"Did I hear that right?" Dahlia rolled her shoulders back as she stood unscathed. "There's another child?"

"Thanks Hayley," Kol growled.

"She would have found out eventually," Freya hurried into the room, kneeling by Hayley. "She's right, you need to push."

"Fuck you, too," Hayley snarled as a contraction wracked her body. "Sorry," she whimpered.

Kol lost track of things after that. Honestly it got a little crazy between the screaming and fighting. He remembered in flashes: Sage pinned to a shelf by a length of wood dangerously close to her heart, Finn at her feet, Elijah and Rebekah broken in new positions after healing. Magic tossed him across the room, and he refrained as long as he could, but when a baby's cry broke the noise and he realized that all of his siblings were incapacitated he revealed what he had been holding back.

He raised his hand. The spell should have frozen Dahlia in her tracks but to his horror she continued moving, albeit slowly. He leapt to his feet, forcing Dahlia into the courtyard with magic.

He spared Hayley and Freya a quick glance before running after her.

"What are you, nephew?" She tilted her head. She could hear the infant sobbing in the next room; the sound slowly tapered off.

"Something new," he smirked. From upstairs came a small bang.

---

"Come on," Elena bounced impatiently. She blasted the safe with another spell. She had no idea why Klaus had elected to lock the knife up and keep it locked up with such a short time before Hayley's delivery, and honestly she didn't have time to think about it.

None of her spells were working and she could hear the escalating conflict.

She ducked under the desk, closed her eyes and focused, wincing at the explosion; the metal door crashed to the floor a few inches in front of her. She scrambled out, snatching the knife from inside amongst the daggers; any other time she would have collected them but she doubted she had the time.

She ran out through the hall, pausing at the top of the stairs until Kol saw her. He lowered his eyes and raised both hands.

Elena ran when the woman was frozen again.

She drove the enchanted blade through the older woman's heart and backed away, holding out her hands as if burned.

Dahlia lowered her eyes. Her mouth popped open as she stared at the blade. She looked up, exhaling through her nose slowly as she curled her fingers around the handle and pulled the knife free; the skin slowly knit back together.

Elena backed towards Kol, stomach dropping.

Dahlia's gaze followed her, darting from Elena's wide eyes to her swollen stomach; she pointed with the bloody end of the knife.

"Elena, I presume?" She smiled.

Kol pulled her behind him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Dahlia chuckled. "Lucky for you, my dear, because that child is now the only thing keeping you alive. I can't say the same for your friend." She tossed the knife into the air and made a swift gesture with her hand; it vanished.

A split second later Elena and Kol heard a shriek.

Elena met his eyes and then glanced towards Dahlia before racing into the study, jumping over fallen Originals and nearly tumbling onto the couch where Hayley lay. Her hand flew up to her mouth; tears flooded her eyes.

The knife protruded from Hayley's heart.

Freya's hands shook as she pulled it free, but it was too late. The werewolf's heart had stopped beating.

In the courtyard Kol raced forward, grabbing Dahlia around the waist. He physically tossed her outside onto the street.

"Otum adnarvet esnavit atim." The air shimmered around the door.

Dahlia slowly got to her feet and dusted the dirt from her black coat as she approached the open door and reached, pressing her outstretched hand to an invisible barrier.

"Is that the best you can do nephew?" The corner of her mouth twitched up in a smile. The barrier itself wasn't half bad, but crudely erected and lacking a proper binding agent; the raw power behind it was quite extraordinary, but simply manipulated. "Aven safa sa belise, de la mer…" she murmured.

Horror flashed in Kol's eyes. At first he reached out tentatively, but then his fist pounded on the inverted barrier that had transformed their fortress into a prison.

"Don't go anywhere," she tilted her head, "I would hate to miss the next birth."

And with that she was gone.

---

Elena wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed when she snapped back to the presence, finally managing to rip her eyes away from the grisly sight of Hayley's open wound. She lowered her hand, lightly dragging her fingers down to close the unseeing eyes.

She turned her head to the left when a loud thud interrupted the deceptively peaceful quiet, and her gaze landed on a bloody length of wood.

"Easy," Kol murmured. He met Elena's eyes for a split second while carefully lowering Sage to the floor. "Are there any splinters?"

"No," she choked.

"Alright," he nodded, standing up. "I'll be back. Elena?" He flashed to her side and wiped twin tears from her cheeks.

"Hayley…" she inhaled slowly, chewing her bottom lip.

Behind him he heard the distinct sound of healing bones.

---

Klaus groaned as he slowly sat up, rubbing his neck and surveying the destruction; between broken furniture and stone lay his incapacitated siblings. They lined a path to the study where Kol stood holding the doppelganger next to the couch where Hayley had delivered.

He could see her dark hair spilling over one sofa arm, but he heard nothing. Even when he strained his ears he only heard four hearts within the room.

He stood, stumbling over furniture on his mad rush to the study and nearly knocking his little brother over. His heart plummeted into his stomach; his voice was deadly quiet, on the verge of breaking.

"Where's the baby?"

"What?" Freya lifted her head from the knife she had been staring at and met her younger brother's eyes in a daze.

"Where is she?" Klaus' voice rose to a roar.

Before Kol or Elena could stop him he lifted Freya by her throat and squeezed.

"Nik!" Kol struggled to hold Elena back while shouting at his brother; he knew the hybrid's temper and pregnant or not she wasn't safe from him at the moment. "Let her go."

"My daughter has been stolen," he roared, eyes flashing yellow, "because she lied to us."

Elena stopped struggling and twisted her wrist, forcing Klaus' hand to release.

"I didn't lie," Freya wheezed, slumping to the floor. The enchanted knife clattered on the wood.

"You've been working with Dahlia from the start," he accused, face turning red. "Release me now, Elena!"

"No," she growled.

"Nik, be reasonable," Kol sighed, berating himself for the unreasonable request. "How could Freya have been working with Dahlia? She didn't know anything until after Elena woke her up."

"How did she know Dahlia was here if they weren't working together?" Klaus countered. "How did she find us?"

Kol had to admit to himself that he made a good point.

"She joined our magic when I was a child," Freya rubbed her throat, "I can sense when she is near as can she."

"Then you did lead her here!" Klaus strained against Elena's restraint.

"No!"

"Klaus!"

"My daughter is missing!"

"Freya," Elena gripped Kol's wrist, "where is the baby?" Her concentration broke.

"Where is she?" Klaus lunged, freed from her hold.

Kol swore. He let go of Elena who stumbled forward and hurried around the couch to hold Klaus back.

Elena gripped the back of the sofa.

Klaus shoved Kol into the ruins of the desk and spun on Elena.

"You brought her here…" Elena straightened her spine. "This is your fault!"

"This is your mother's fault!" She gestured to the destruction, and her deceased friend. "She traded every firstborn in her bloodline for a spell that she probably could have done herself."

"Could you all stop the shouting?"

Elena's brows lowered as she spun towards the door. "Care?"

"Why do you look so confused?" Caroline adjusted the bunched scarf in her arms. "I told you I was coming to visit. I decided to surprise you and come early. Good thing too, since I got here and almost everyone was unconscious." As she spoke she picked her way across the room around the waking Originals.

"I mean really, you'd think that thousand year old vampires could handle a single witch," she rolled her eyes, nudging between Elena and Klaus. The scarf wiggled in her arms. "Well, come on then…" she nodded to Klaus. "I have no intention of stealing the title of Rumpelstiltskin from the crazy witch."

He looked down. A tiny fist protruded from the fabric, pushing the material aside to reveal a small face. He lifted his arms as Caroline instigated a transfer. His eyes were glued to the baby as she looked back and forth from him to Caroline.

"Freya thought between your aunt and me, you'd prefer me," she murmured.

"We'll be waiting for your apologies," Elena swiped at her cheek. She shrieked, clutching her heart, when Hayley jerked up with a gasp.

Chapter 27

Rebekah clung to the arm of the chair, watching the coffee table with wary eyes as the firelight winked off the sharp knife.

"Are you still staring at that?" Elijah held the back of her chair.

"We're stuck in here," she gestured towards the windows, "and there's nothing better to do – at least not while Hope is napping."

She stretched forward to pick up the knife and spun the point on the tip of her finger; a small trickle of blood ran toward her palm.

"You're going to drive yourself crazy," he plucked the blade from her hands, circling around to sit beside her.

Rebekah glanced at him, struggling to recall the last time he had appeared so haggard, or the last time she had seen him in jeans. She supposed it made sense; trapped in the house there was nobody to intimidate or impress, and with her there was no reason to hide the weary set of his mouth.

"Better I lose my mind then Elena," she sighed, sinking into her chair. "Between her sleepless nights, and searching for answers, she's running herself ragged."

"And you think Freya's botched spell holds the answer?"

Klaus strode into the room where his siblings sat, blinking to bring some moisture back to his dry eyes.

"All that that knife holds is the ability to enrage me," he grumbled, snatching it he drove the end down into the table.

"Was that necessary?" Rebekah rolled her eyes. She just managed to catch her glass before it tumbled to the floor; they were running dangerously low on dishes as it was. It wasn't like they could replace the things they broke anymore.

Klaus scrubbed a hand over his face, exhaling slowly.

Elijah lifted a bunched cloth from his brother's shoulder.

His head jerked up, tired eyes watching Elijah fold and line up the pink stripes.

"You've got a rabbit in your pocket," he nodded.

"Feeling a little peckish, Nik?" Rebekah smirked, unable to resist teasing.

"Sod off," he growled. Pulling the stuffed animal free, he cocked his head to the side, listening for any sign that his daughter was fussing without it. "What are you doing with that bloody knife anyway?"

"Lamenting the fact that it's not bloody," she spun her glass in her hand, watching her brother absentmindedly fiddle with the rabbit's ear. "I don't understand what went wrong."

"Freya's magic is subpar compared to our dear aunt?" Klaus shook his head.

"But the logic makes sense," Rebekah shook her head. "Dahlia's three greatest weaknesses should have rendered her mortal."

"Perhaps the ingredients were wrong," Elijah placed the blanket down on the table in line with the knife. "Misinterpreted, perhaps?"

"How do you misinterpret sacred Norwegian soil, Viking ash, and blood?" She sighed, tipping her head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Was it the right blood?"

Rebekah jumped, twisting towards the door.

"Sorry," Caroline shrugged, "didn't mean to scare you. Although I did enjoy the result," a small smile tugged at her lips.

"That's the third time this week," Rebekah's eyes trailed over the baby vampire. "How do you move so quietly in heels?"

"I'm part cat," she deadpanned, moving forward on silent feet. "You didn't answer my question. Was it the right blood?"

"I don't see how it could have been wrong," Klaus sighed.

"Were there requirements for the blood?" Caroline perched on the coffee table, crossing her ankles. "Did it have to be a certain blood type?"

"In a way," Rebekah finished the last of her drink. "It had to be the blood of the witch who broke Dahlia's heart: Freya."

"Freya?" Caroline's brows knit together.

"Yes," Klaus' eyes flickered over her face.

"Freya," Caroline repeated. "The beloved child your aunt stole away from her only sister?"

"That is who she is," Klaus frowned. "Why is that important?"

"Well…" Caroline chewed her bottom lip, moving her hands as she spoke. "It's just that stealing a child from her sobbing mother and younger brother sounds pretty heartless to me. And then she went on to make Freya's life a living hell."

"Somebody broke her heart long before Freya came into the picture," Rebekah straightened up.

"That makes the blood open to interpretation," Caroline glanced over her shoulder. "The only question is who did it?"

---

"Elena, you need to sleep," Kol ran a hand back through his hair.

"I can't sleep," she took the stairs down to the courtyard.

"Sure you can," he skirted the fountain, barely sparing Finn and Sage a nod as he passed. "All you have to do is close your eyes."

She whirled on him, stabbing his chest with her shaking finger. Muscles jumped under her skin. "How am I supposed to do that? How, Kol?"

"How am I supposed to sleep when every time I close my eyes I see her?" Her stomach twisted; bile rose in the back of her throat and tears shimmered in her red eyes. "How am I supposed to sleep when all I can see is her taking our baby?"

"How?" She shrieked.

He reached for her shoulders, pulling her closer as she struggled against his grip until she was encased in his arms. Her fingers curled around his jacket. He smoothed down her hair as she sobbed, kissing the top of her head. He could feel a gentle shifting where her stomach pressed tightly to his.

Her tears slowed, trailing off into the occasional hiccup as Kol lowered her to sit on the edge of the fountain.

"I will die before I let that bitch anywhere near our baby," he swore, trailing his fingers down her arm.

She clung to his shirt, glancing up through wet lashes and whispering. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Nobody is dying Elena," Finn moved some broken wood aside. The courtyard was slowly being cleaned up and resembling something semi-respectable – if in desperate need of repairs.

"I made sure of that," Sage swept up some broken glass. "Remember?"

"How could I forget?" Elena made a sound between a groan and a laugh. "I hated you for that."

"It all worked out," she surveyed the courtyard, "you still found enough white oak for your spell."

"And then promptly destroyed it," Finn brushed some dust from his sleeves. "Right?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"Right," Elena whispered.

"Then you truly have nothing to worry about," he nodded, gesturing towards the stairs. "So go and get some sleep because Kol is right, you need it. This isn't healthy."

"I still have plenty to worry about," she lowered her eyes, staring at the ground. "She's still coming back for her," she smoothed a hand over her stomach, "and we can't stop her."

"We'll find a way, darling," he rubbed her upper arm.

A loud knock drew their attention up toward the front of the house. Elena used Kol's arm to awkwardly get to her feet and then crossed her arms. She stared at the floor, walked around the remaining rubble and ducked into the hall leading to the door.

"I'm surprised you haven't put her under with a spell, brother," Finn watched Elena go.

"I could put her to sleep, but I can't control her dreams." Kol rubbed the knotted muscles in the back of his neck. "I'd be trapping her in her nightmares."

"What about dreamless sleep?" Finn tilted his head. "Or peaceful dreams? There are spells for it."

"The compound isn't exactly equipped for magic," Kol frowned.

---

"Wow…" Elena lifted her head when she heard Marcel's voice. "I haven't seen you this distraught since that time you bumped into Elijah in Europe. Do you remember that?" He stood a foot away from the barrier.

She nodded, shivering at the vivid recollection. She could see Elijah in her mind's eye as he drank himself into a stupor. He had been so far gone when she found him that he didn't even recognize her glamour, and after learning why he was drowning his sorrows she had wanted to join him.

"This is a little different then finding out people I care about are at the bottom of the ocean," she whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"We brought you some stuff," he tipped his head to the left.

Elena followed his gaze to where Davina and Thierry were pulling some bags from the trunk of his car.

"Hey," Davina greeted. She pulled up the handle of a rolling suitcase and strode towards the door, nearly crossing the threshold before remembering at the last second.

"What's all this?" Elena squinted. She recognized the bag; it was the same one she had dragged to Greece and back.

"I… we…" she amended, "thought you might like some of your own things. You must be longing for your stuff."

"Davina packed your clothes," Thierry lifted a cooler from the trunk, "I made sure she put your journal in as well."

Warmth spread through her chest, momentarily chasing away the cold. Her eyes surveyed the bags as she curled her fingers around the handle Davina nudged through the open door; there was fresh blood, some groceries and several bags full of different things from the mansion.

"Thank you," she rubbed a hand over her cheek, tucking hair behind her ear.

"You okay?" Marcel leaned against the gate. "You look tired. Have you been sleeping?"

"Of course not," she scoffed. Her posture relaxed a fraction when she felt a warm hand on her back. She looked up over her shoulder. "Look, we got a care package."

"Oh I'm thinking this was all for you," Kol kissed her temple. He reached and took the cooler Thierry held out. He flipped the lid, chuckling at the contents. "AB negative?"

"That was not easy to find," Marcel shook his head.

"I believe it," Elena smiled.

"Sophie sent some gumbo too," Davina waved her hand, "it's in one of the bags. She felt really bad about Monique locking us in the cottage."

"Did you ever figure out why she did that?" Elena leaned into Kol's side.

Davina shuffled her feet, lowering her eyes. Guilt prickled the back of her skull. "She… she wanted to trap me like I trapped her. She said she was going to let you out after a few hours."

"Personally I have a little trouble believing that," Marcel rolled his eyes.

"Personally I don't really care anymore," Elena shut her eyes, inhaling sharply. "I just want to get out of this house so I can attempt to disappear."

"You know that won't work, my love," Kol murmured. "You heard Freya: her magic will be like a beacon."

"Let me dream, Kol. Let me dream," she sighed. She let go of the suitcase and reached for the cooler. "I'm going to go put this away, and glare at Klaus if he goes for the AB negative."

Kol nodded, watching her go for a moment before turning back to the guests.

"How is she really?" Thierry frowned. "She said she hadn't slept."

"She hasn't," he shook his head. "She's terrified, and I don't know what to do to calm her down."

"Because you're freaking out too?" Davina guessed, crossing her arms.

"I believe I have a right to 'freak out', little witch," his jaw ticked. He cursed under his breath when she turned. "Wait."

"Why?" She tapped her foot on the sidewalk.

"Because," he gritted his teeth, "I need your help."

"Why would I help you?" Her blue eyes hardened.

"You'll help me, so I can help her," he smirked, nodding to where Elena had disappeared.

She glanced over his shoulder. "Fine," she uncrossed her arms. "What do you want?"

"Lavender, smoky quartz and parchment."

"Where am I supposed to find smoky quartz?" She frowned.

"There's some at the Jardin Gris," Thierry cleared his throat. "I can take you."

"I thought that place was shut down."

"I have a key," he shoved his hands in his pockets. "We'll be back in a half an hour."

---

"Where'd all of this come from?" Hayley slipped into the kitchen, surveying the multitude of bags. "People outside of this family actually like this family?"

"Don't be ridiculous Hayley," Kol unloaded a grocery bag; "people in this family don't like this family. Elena is the only Original to inspire friendship wherever she goes."

"I do not," she stifled a yawn. Her tired eyes fell to Hope as Hayley moved towards the counter. "Hi," she traced the baby's tiny fist with her finger, "I thought you were napping."

"She was," Hayley carefully passed her daughter to Elena, "but then she woke up and decided she was hungry."

A wrinkle appeared between Hope's brows, and in that moment she was the image of her father; she made a displeased grunt and suckled at the pacifier.

"Do you get cranky when you're hungry?" She cooed. "Thierry used to get really cranky when he was hungry."

"She's not a very cranky baby," Hayley shook her head, reaching into the fridge for formula.

"Are you sure she's Nik's?" Kol flipped on the bottle warmer.

"I'm pretty sure," Hayley rolled her eyes in the direction of the courtyard.

"Then she must get her temperament from you," Elena managed a small smile for Hope.

Hayley's loud laugh startled Hope into wiggling against Elena's bump; the baby kicked up in response, to which Hope harrumphed and wiggled again.

"Okay," amusement leaked through Elena's weary voice, "somebody needs to take her; she's started a shove off with her little cousin."

"Ah," Kol smirked, "so she is Nik's."

"Are you implying that I push people for no reason?" Klaus strode into the room and plucked Hope from Elena's arms.

"I'm not implying anything," Kol placed the last of the groceries in the fridge, "I'm saying it outright."

Elena placed a hand on Kol's chest, gently pushing him back a step and inserting herself between the brothers. She really wasn't sure how they had survived the last two weeks in close quarters.

A piercing cry filled the kitchen, reminding her.

Hope was the reason the brothers had refrained from fighting and destroying the rest of the compound in the process. Hope and her; Klaus was busy taking care of his child and Kol had his hands full with her.

Hayley tested the bottle on her wrist and then passed it to Klaus.

Elena pulled a bag of blood from the fridge.

"Is that AB negative?" Klaus squinted at the label.

"Hands off," she growled, opening the bag and taking a long pull.

"You'll find my hands are full at the moment," he looked down to where Hope suckled the bottle.

Elena was prepared with a smart retort, but the sudden arrival of the rest of the family held her tongue. She sipped her blood, tilting her head as Caroline gestured people towards the table.

Elena shrugged and sat in the chair Kol pulled out for her, knowing better than to ever argue with Caroline Forbes about anything; the woman could make a grown man cry before she possessed super strength.

"Was there something you wished to share, Caroline?" Finn leaned back in his chair. His brows lowered when she dropped the knife on the table.

"She developed a theory earlier," Klaus shifted Hope onto his shoulder, rubbing her back.

"I think I know why this knife didn't work," Caroline leaned over the table, bracing her hands on the wood and turning toward Freya. "You used the wrong blood."

"What are you talking about?" Freya frowned. "The spell required the blood of…"

"The witch who broke her heart," Caroline finished. "Except, Dahlia's heart was broken long before you came into the picture."

Kol's hand found Elena's knee beneath the table.

"Who then?" His eyes flickered over his siblings faces. "How are we meant to solve a mystery from before we were born?"

"I believe that's why she's called us all here," Rebekah rolled her eyes. "Go on, love."

"I think the answer," Caroline glanced towards Freya, "is in the rest of the spell."

"Sacred soil?" Sage guessed, tilting her head.

"Ashes of her oppressors," Caroline cocked an eyebrow.

"Viking ashes?" Finn's eyes darted to his siblings.

"She was oppressed by Vikings, right?" Caroline tilted her head.

"She told me once that they murdered everyone in her village and made her use magic for them," Freya nodded.

"Right," she gestured with her hand to the witch. "Okay, so, she's oppressed by Vikings to the point where their ashes become a weakness for her, and then her sister – arguably the last person she has left in the world – leaves her to marry a Viking – possibly one of the ones involved in the slaughter of her neighbors. Do any of you see where I'm going with this?"

"Mother?" Kol's brows shot up. "To kill our aunt and save our children we need the blood of our mother?"

"Yes," Caroline nodded.

"Our dead mother?" Kol's heart slowed.

"Yes."

"The woman we cremated?" Elena paled.

"Yes."

"So there really is no hope," Elijah glanced toward his niece as she was transferred to her mother's embrace.

"Not necessarily," Caroline folded her arms on the table.

"What do you mean 'not necessarily'?" Freya threw up her hands. "It's next to impossible to bring back the dead when they have earthly remains. There is no possible way we could get her blood now."

Elena didn't realize she was drinking the blood faster and faster until the bag was empty and she was sucking on air. She wanted to swear, scream and cry but there was a baby in the room; the bag crinkled in her hand.

"We are royally screwed," she muttered.

"Wow," Caroline snickered. "I honestly thought you'd catch on first."

"What are you talking about?" Kol frowned.

Caroline shifted, watching the confused expressions of her fellow prisoners for a second before sighing.

"Seriously?" She shook her head. "Seriously, nobody? Nobody can think of a solution?" She waited a beat and then leaned over the table towards Elena. "I'm sure you remember how you two met… when you met…"

"When… oh…" Elena's mouth popped open. "That's…"

"Brilliant," Kol finished. "That's bloody brilliant."

"I was gonna say dangerous," Elena shook her head.

"Elena's right," Finn shook his head. "Mother lived a thousand years ago."

"What about a few months?" Kol countered. "She was alive in Mystic Falls when I went in the coma."

"We already manipulated time around that spot once," she shook her head. "It was dangerous than and it would be a lot worse now. We can't send someone back a few months; who knows what would happen to our present, or the fabric of reality for that matter, if someone is walking around with a perfect body double."

"It's one thing when it's hours," Finn added. "That's what time manipulation spells were made for, but it's another entirely when a longer span is in question."

"Elena went back in time and everything was fine," Elijah glanced at her.

"But I had nearly eighty years to work out a solution," she shook her head. "I put myself in an enchanted sleep a few days before I was born so there was no chance of interfering with my human life."

"Whoever went back would have to go to a time before they existed," Freya pushed her hands through her hair. "And that leaves a very long stretch of time."

"I could go," Kol rubbed small circles on Elena's thigh with his thumb.

"Are you crazy?" She grasped his wrist.

"That's one of the many reasons you love me, darling," he smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"It's a thousand years," her nails dug into his skin. "You would be alone for a thousand years."

"I did it once, I can survive it again," he flipped his hand over, threading his fingers through hers. "I can make it through, as long as you're both waiting here for me."

"How were you planning on getting through those years, brother?" Finn cocked an eyebrow. "Elena had to put herself to sleep, but those spells won't last more than twenty years – fifty if you're lucky."

"I'll take a dagger…"

"The daggers that don't work?" Klaus cocked an eyebrow. His eyes were glued on Hope's waving arm.

"I can make one work, Nik," he snapped.

"No, you can't," Elena crossed her arms, "because that kind of magic takes two witches and a diamond, and I'm not helping you do this."

"Very well," his expression darkened as he turned towards Freya.

"Don't look at me," she held up her hands. "Elena has that diamond locked up tight, and I'm honestly more afraid of her than I am of you."

"Darling?" He turned back to Elena.

"No!"

"Do you see a better solution? Somebody has to go."

"It's a thousand years Kol," she glared, "anything could happen! The dagger might not work. You could be lost. There is white oak back there; you could be killed!"

"There's no other way. Do you think I want to go?"

"You volunteered fast enough," her heart hammered.

Klaus glanced up as their voices rose, escalating to a full blown fight with the occasional input from one of the onlookers. He could understand why Finn wasn't volunteering to take Kol's place since he had spent so long under a dagger already. Freya would be the next best choice, but then they were back in the sleeping spell boat. Elijah and Rebekah were remaining quiet, likely trying to think of some other solution, and he stared at his gurgling daughter who despite everything remained oblivious to the chaos around her.

"I'll go."

The quiet settled over the room as disbelieving eyes settled on him.

"D… did I hear that right?" Caroline's eyes were round.

"Yes, sweetheart," he sighed, "I said I'll go. There is a dagger that works on me, so there will be no need for magical experimentation, and I'm fairly certain not one of my siblings will object."

Nobody did. He tried not to let that chafe.

"I'll go back and retrieve mother's blood, along with Viking ash and the sacred soil, and then put myself under the effects of the dagger. Is that acceptable Elena?" He turned toward the doppelganger.

She slowly unfolded her arms and rubbed a spot below her naval. After a moment she pressed her lips together and cleared her throat.

"It's still a thousand years," she ran her tongue over her teeth. "Anything could happen in a thousand years, and how would we get you back here?"

"What if he didn't go alone?" Caroline's fingers drummed over the table.

Elena's eyes widened. "You can't be serious?"

"Why not?" She shrugged. "I can make sure he stays out of trouble, and remains not lost. It's a lot easier to account for two decades then ten centuries."

"You're willing to journey a thousand years into the past and spend those years avoiding anyone you know and carting around a coffin?" Disbelief flashed in Elijah's eyes.

"What is with this family and coffins?" Elena groaned. "Can we step away from the freaking coffins? It's morbid."

"Do you have a better method for transporting a body quickly?" Klaus leaned back in his chair. "Believe me love, you get strange looks when you're lugging around grey bodies."

"Well, you would know," she said the words with false cheer.

"I'm not crazy about the idea of carrying around a coffin," Caroline interrupted before they could get going, "but Klaus has a point. There's not really another method, 'Lena."

"It's heavy, and awkward and morbid." She scrubbed her hand over her face, bracing her elbows on the table. Her nail caught the chain of her necklace. "And you don't know the language."

"I could actually teach her that," Klaus interjected, "provided we were sent far enough into the past."

"It's still a thousand years," Elena shook her head, staring at the table before dragging her eyes up to Caroline. "You would be alone for a thousand years."

"Were you alone?" Caroline countered. "You made friends and had a life, Elena. If you want my opinion I don't think you were at risk of harming your present until you were born. I'll be fine and bonus…" she grinned. "I'd come back physically stronger than everyone in this room, well…" her eyes flickered to Klaus, "almost everyone. Kind of wish I could get around that coffin bit though."

"What if you could?" Elena bit her bottom lip.

---

3 Weeks Later

Mystic Falls

---

"Where is it?" He muttered again and again under his breath, agitation growing with each passing second.

He tore through trunk after trunk. Scattered clothes and mementos from decades gone by. Shook every book on the shelf and flipped through each of his journals.

"Where is it?" He rifled through the contents of his desk.

"Where is it?" He flipped the mattress.

Smoke wafted up, over his balcony and through the door. He paused in the middle of kicking the bed post, spinning towards the open air and running to lean over the railing.

"What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" Damon's face twisted. He took a long pull from the bottle of bourbon in his hand and gestured toward his little brother with a rectangle in his other hand. "What are you doing? It sounds like you're tearing the house apart."

"I'm looking for something," he rolled his eyes. "Why are you burning silk?"

"It's Katherine's old dress," Damon smirked tightly. "I'm getting rid of anything and everything that reminds me of Katherine Pierce and Elena Gilbert."

"What did Elena ever do to you?" He could feel a headache coming on.

"Honestly, nothing," Damon shrugged, "I'm just thinking it will be much better for my health if I'm not obsessed with her, and I don't appear to be obsessed with her."

"That's an oddly smart choice for you," Stefan frowned.

"I know right," he smirked. "Just about to get rid of the last of it," he lifted the thin object.

Stefan's eyes widened, horror filling him from head to toe.

"Don't," he shouted, holding out his hand.

Damon froze with Katherine's picture held over the fire, dangerously close to the flames. He looked from Stefan to the tintype and back.

"Don't tell me you've still got a flame for Katherine," Damon snickered. "Flame…" he laughed, waving the picture over the fire, "… get it."

"Damon," Stefan held out his hand. "It is very important that you move the tintype away from the fire right now."

"This kind of behaviour's not healthy, brother," Damon smiled, warmed from the inside by the liquor.

"Damon," Stefan groaned. "You are drunk, and not thinking straight." He took a deep breath and slowly jumped over the rail, bending his knees to absorb the impact. "Give me the tintype," he held out his hand, palm up.

"Why?" Damon frowned, leaning back on his heels.

"Because," Stefan approached slowly, "twenty years ago I put a false back on it. There is something very important behind Katherine's picture. Give me that and then you can burn the rest."

Damon watched his brother for a moment and then abruptly pulled his arm to his body. He put his half empty bottle on the grass and opened the casing around the picture. Then he pried up the photograph from the false back, glancing up at Stefan as he did so. Inside he found a leather book just a little smaller than the picture, and so thin it couldn't have held more than a page or two.

"You were tearing your room apart for this?" Damon held the book between his thumb and forefinger, tipping it back and forth over the fire for a good look. "What's so special about it?"

"It's a really long story," Stefan beckoned with his fingers, "involving Caroline Forbes and Sheila Bennett."

"Blondie?" Damon's eyes shifted. "Isn't she stuck in New Orleans with Elena?" He passed the book to Stefan.

"No," he visibly relaxed with the leather in his hand. Flipping it open he sighed when he saw the pages. "She's right here."

Damon reclaimed his bourbon and took a healthy swig on the short walk to his brother's side. His blue eyes clouded when he looked down into the book at the twin portraits. Caroline Forbes in high-waist jean shorts and a leather jacket stared back at him; mirroring her picture on the right was Klaus freaking Mikaelson with slightly longer curls that tumbled over his forehead and clothes straight out of a renaissance fair.

"What the heck is this?"

"Something Elena needs," Stefan sighed.

"So this is actually them?" Damon spoke slowly, pointing to the pictures. "Elena did her freaky little witchy thing?"

"Yes."

"I could have burned Klaus Mikaelson alive?" His eyes sparkled.

"Yes."

"Can I still burn him alive?"

"No."

"Come on, Stef," Damon slung his arm around Stefan's shoulders. "It'll be fun. We can take Caroline out first."

"No," he sighed.

"Aw, come on," he pouted, "it's not like it would kill him."

"No, Damon," Stefan rolled his eyes. "The stuff Elena needs is with Klaus," he slapped the small book shut and slipped it into his pocket. "I wouldn't be surprised if they planned it that way in case you got a hold of it."

He shrugged off his brother's arm, turned and took off for his car.

"Where you going?"

"New Orleans," he glanced back over his shoulder. "Are you coming?"

"No thank you," Damon shuddered. "I'd like to go at least a decade before running into a Mikaelson if I can help it."

"Do I want to know what happened in New Orleans?" Stefan opened the car door.

"I got on the wrong end of a psychopath," Damon shrugged. He dropped the portrait of Katherine in the flames and watched as the edges curled up. "Kol's the jealous type."

Stefan checked his pockets ensuring he had his phone and wallet before sliding into the car and turning over the ignition. He rolled down the window.

"At least you're learning."

"Mm," Damon grinned. He pointed from the fire to the house. "Would burning anything Katherine ever touched be too much?"

"Considering that Katherine's had her hands on everything in that house – including you – I'm going to say yes," Stefan rolled his eyes. "Don't burn our home Damon."

He put the car in drive and peeled out of the yard, dialing Alaric as he went; he picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hey, it's me. Can you do me a favor and come keep an eye on Damon? There is a small chance he might try to burn down the Boarding House."

"Should I bother asking why?"

Notes:

There is one planned chapter left and then the epilogue, followed by a sequel set in the future when the girls are teenagers.

Chapter 28

His thumbs kneaded the tight muscles beneath her skin, urging her to straighten out her leg with a firm hand under the knee. The bunched muscle loosened momentarily, but then coiled tighter than before.

"You're meant to be relaxing," he scolded, gently rubbing circles over her thigh. He trailed his fingers slowly down her leg.

"I'm trying," she sighed with a sincere attempt to wipe the furrow from her brow. The task proved impossible, so she sat up and folded her legs.

"Are we trying meditation now?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"I can't imagine that working," she shook her head. "I couldn't even get that spell to work."

"You have a lot of negative energy in your head right now," he reached out, fingering a loose tendril of hair.

"It's not easy to let go of it," she grunted, shifting positions.

He stood, carefully manipulating her limbs until her feet were on the floor and then moved behind her on the bed, pulling her back to his chest.

"Better?"

"Yeah," she closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Would you like to try the spell again?" He nuzzled her ear.

She made a negative sound in the back of her throat and curled her fingers around the dark material of his sleeves.

"Elena?" He whispered.

"Shh," her grip slackened.

He held her to his chest and listened as her heart slowed and her breathing leveled out. He wasn't surprised as she nodded into a light sleep, but he refused to move an inch once she did; her sleepless nights had only gotten worse two weeks ago when they sent Klaus and Caroline into the past.

No amount of reassurance would ease her fears. All she could think of was that she had reappeared moments after disappearing and Caroline was still gone.

He hadn't been worried at first. It was a thousand years and entirely possible that Caroline had simply mixed up the dates, but as the days dragged on his anxiety formed a lead ball in his stomach. He was starting to think Klaus had been on point with his crippling paranoia.

He gripped his brother's sleeve before he could fully approach the circle of candles. He eyed the spell, but spoke through the corner of his mouth.

"Why are you really doing this Nik?" His eyes flickered over Caroline as she fingered the heavy wool Rebekah had given her. "You're not strong enough already? You need another thousand years on the rest of us?"

"While that does sound appealing," Klaus inhaled slowly, "I have other reasons for wanting you here Kol."

"Such as?" He prompted, eyes seeking Elena where she helped prepare the spell. He had just gotten her back, and had absolutely no desire to endure another separation, but when Klaus was involved he was wary – always.

"Elena is right," he murmured. "Anything could happen in a thousand years. There is a very real possibility I will not return, and you know that…" Kol's silence answered the unasked question. "I want you here Kol, not because you're weak and not because I wish to keep you weak. I want you here because you're strong."

Kol's eyes snapped to Klaus, but his brother was busy staring at Hayley and his child.

"If I don't come back then you are the one with the best chance of protecting the girls." With that he pulled his arm free and strode towards Caroline, leaving Kol to stare after him.

He had no idea how he was meant to protect the children from Dahlia without his mother's blood. How was he supposed to save them? How was he supposed to foil Dahlia?

Perhaps he could make a prison akin to the one Elena had sent into the past for his brother, but that presented it's own slew of problems; Dahlia would have to touch the paper, and she would have known something was up if anyone came at her with a piece of parchment. If Klaus were there he could have created a painting to be spelled, and they might have tricked Dahlia into walking straight into it, but the odds of such a cage actually holding a witch – even when bound with doppelganger blood – was unlikely.

He couldn't kill her.

He couldn't bind her.

He briefly considered turning her, but that wouldn't work either since she was 'all-powerful' and 'nearly immortal'; instigating a transition to vampirism required death, and he couldn't kill her.

Could he unbind her from Freya? Would that make a difference?

It might not make her mortal, but it could lessen her power; maybe even enough that they could run. Dahlia would have to put herself to sleep again at some point if she didn't get the children. If she gave up and slept then they would only have to run until she spelled herself. But how would they know she was asleep?

They couldn't know. He would spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, relocating his daughter and niece when rumors reached his ears; he would turn into Klaus.

Kol knew he could run if the opportunity presented itself. He could remain one step ahead of Dahlia for the many years, but that was no life for children.

It was not the eternity he envisioned when he thought of his future with Elena and their daughter. He wanted them to have everything; a home filled with her light and their family, not an existence shrouded in the darkness that had followed him since the tenth century.

She deserved more than that.

Elena sank further into his arms. He held his breath, waiting to see if she would wake up. When she didn't he took a chance and carefully shifted his weight, easing her down on the mattress.

She made a small sound of protest when he sat up to lift her legs back onto the bed.

"Sh, my love," he crossed one of her legs over the other and placed a pillow between her knees. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," she mumbled, fingers twitching toward her belly, "she likes it when you're here."

"She does, does she?" He chuckled, draping a warm throw over Elena's body.

"Mmhmm," she leaned back into his chest, wincing slightly, "she's not the only one."

"Then I suppose it's a good thing I like being here," his lips brushed over her shoulder. "Do you need another pillow?" His eyes flickered to the mountain of throw pillows he had tossed on the armchair.

"No," she rolled onto her back, banishing the first pillow with a wave of her hand; it tumbled off the bed. She continued rolling in the circle of his arms until she was able to lift her knee over his thigh.

"Who needs a body pillow," he dropped his hand to her knee, carefully lifting her leg higher until she sighed.

Elena tipped her head up, peering through her lashes to his clouded eyes.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" She lifted her hand, tracing the line between his brows with her thumb.

"You," he managed a small smile, "me," he dragged his hand up from her thigh to her stomach, "us." The pressure of his fingers brought a small nudge from inside. "Have you thought of any names yet?"

"No," she pursed her lips, "I haven't let myself."

"She'll be here soon, darling," he kissed the tip of her nose, "and she'll need a name."

"I never liked the idea of naming a kid before it was born," she sighed. "I don't want to name her Jane and have her come out looking like an Elizabeth."

"I'm gonna go ahead and take both of those names off the table," he shook his head.

"What's wrong with them?" She would have crossed her arms, but she was too comfortable in that moment.

"They are too common." He lifted his nose in the air, smirking when the action made her giggle; the sound was soft and strangled, but real.

"You want something uncommon?" She rolled her eyes. "We could always name her Gravity."

"Well, she had tethered me to the earth," he smirked.

"I thought I did that," Elena pouted, eyes glinting.

"Fair point," he nodded. "Shall I start calling you 'gravity', darling?"

"Don't you dare."

"What about Hertha?"

"And have her teased by every other child she ever meets?" Elena shook her head. "No way. Mary?"

"And have her labeled a goody-two shoes?" He gasped, dramatically. "Lilith?"

"I'm not letting you name our baby after a demon."

"Well, there goes half my list," he sighed. He shifted just enough to angle his head towards her bump. "What do you think sweetheart? Do you like the name Lilith?"

Elena smirked when the baby rolled over in a lazy turn. "I think that's a no."

"I'm feeling outnumbered."

"That's because you are," she gave him a small nudge to roll over so she could use his chest as a pillow.

Kol was silent for a few minutes, to the point where Elena was nearly asleep again, before he spoke. "What about your mother?"

"Miranda?" She mumbled sleepily.

"It's a nice name," he threaded his fingers through her hair. "I know you'd never consent to naming her after my mother."

"You'd never consent to naming her after your mother," her fingers twisted in his shirt. "And no, not Miranda; I want her to have her own name, not the name of a dead relative. Besides," she hummed, "Miranda Mikaelson? M and M?"

"So she is getting my name?"

"Why wouldn't she?"

"After all the trouble my family has caused us I had thought you might shy away from the name," he admitted.

"I haven't shied away yet," she murmured, trying to make sense of the patterns he was now drawing over her spine.

"You are trapped inside," he pointed out.

"In a house big enough that I could avoid all of you if I really wanted to," she poked his chest. A warm darkness pressed on her mind, beckoning her to slip into the shadows and stay awhile. "I love you, and she loves you and she is going to have your name."

Whatever response he said, if any emerged, was lost to her ears as she drifted once more into her uneasy slumber.

---

"Really, Rebekah?" Finn spread out a soft blanket, cocking an eyebrow.

"Shut up," she snatched the bedding, "it's adorable."

"And definitely on theme," Elijah rolled his eyes. His hand twisted the screwdriver, securing the final board in place.

"It's adorable," she insisted. Shouldering her elder brother out of the way she bent and readied the bedding, tying ribbons in place around the crib's rails. "It's not too much, right?"

"Now you want an opinion?" Sage leaned beside the changing table where she was busy folding freshly laundered clothes. The corner of her mouth tipped up. "Has Elena seen any of this yet?"

"Neither one of them are aware I'm doing it," Rebekah tilted her head, considering the empty wall above the crib.

"I don't think it's too much, sister, but I do believe you're trying to annoy Kol." Finn turned over a cardboard box in his hand until he figured out how to break it down.

"Obviously."

"That wall needs something," Elijah followed her gaze.

"I've got something coming," Rebekah twisted her wrist, glancing at her watch; "the delivery should arrive any second."

A knock echoed through the house summoning the gaze of everyone in the room. Elijah's eyes swung back to Rebekah. He lifted a single eyebrow.

"You had that timed well."

"Sometimes things just work out," Rebekah smirked. She waved a hand around the room imperiously. "Finish up in here. I'll be back in a few minutes."

She could practically see the way Elijah and Finn looked at each other behind her back as she swept from the room. She traveled on swift feet by the next door in the hall, she caught a glimpse of Kol and Elena napping, and down the stairs through the sectioned off courtyard toward the compound's entrance.

Her brow furrowed when she reached the gate.

"You're not my delivery man," she tilted her head, stopping at the barrier that held her inside.

"No," Stefan shook his head, smiling, "but I did bring a delivery."

"What a coincidence," a smooth voice drew their gazes to where Marcel approached with a large bag in hand, "so did I."

"Marcel," she glanced to the bag in his hand, "perfect timing."

"What about me?" Stefan frowned.

"I didn't realize time was an issue with whatever you brought," Rebekah frowned. She slowly looked Stefan over, but there was no baggage to speak of on or near his person. "What exactly did you bring me, Stefan?"

"Technically I brought it for Elena," he reached inside his jacket.

"Technically so did Marcel," Rebekah caught the bag as it swung inside. She wanted to riffle through the contents to make sure he had gotten exactly what she specified, but Stefan had aroused her curiosity. She nearly dropped the bag when he pulled a slim leather portfolio from his pocket.

"Is that what I think it is?" She reached for it, heart pounding in her ears.

"That depends," Stefan smiled, eyes twinkling, "do you think it's your brother and my friend?"

Her hand shook as she flipped open the leather and caught a glimpse of the parchment inside. Her brother and Caroline trembled as they stared up at her, and it took Rebekah a sharp breath to realize that they were not actually moving.

"Where did you get this?" She took a deep breath.

"Technically I've had it since 1992," his hand rubbed the back of his neck, "but I just remembered a few days ago."

"You just remembered?" Marcel frowned. He had been informed of their plan several days after it happened, and could only assume that his sire was now in Rebekah's hand.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Caroline came and told us everything. She needed help."

"Us?" Rebekah leaned back on her heels. "Are you about to tell me that Damon knew everything too?"

"He knew nothing," Stefan scoffed. "Caroline had Sheila Bennett lure me back into Mystic Falls. Then she told us everything and basically made me promise to keep her and Klaus hidden until three days ago; it wasn't much of a problem since Sheila took my memory of everything Caroline told me after I hid that little book away. She was the only one who knew."

"If she took your memory then how did you remember?" Rebekah frowned.

"I guess she left a spell with instructions for Bonnie," Stefan's eye flickered to the book. "She got a letter from her grandmother's lawyer with instructions to perform the spell inside on me. Don't you want to get them out of there?"

"The only one who can is sleeping," Rebekah admitted, glancing over her shoulder, "and I honestly don't want to wake her up. Thank you," she smiled, "I'd hug, but…" she motioned vaguely to the threshold. "You know."

She spun on her heel and disappeared into the house, catching the start of a conversation that tapered off as she climbed the stairs.

"Stefan Salvatore?"

"Yeah, and who are you?"

---

Voices floated around her; hushed whispers tickling her ears.

"Do you think they're actually sleeping?"

"They'd probably sleep better if you woke them up."

"I will rip out your vocal cords."

The threat came in a rumbling voice above her head. She stroked his chest with a fingertip and peeked through her eyelashes. "Don't start a fight in close quarters."

"Elena?" Kol stilled beneath her cheek.

"I'm already awake," she murmured. Slowly she used Kol for leverage and pushed herself up into a sitting position. She squinted, rubbing the sleep from the corner of her eye. "Kol, don't threaten in front of children."

"Sorry, darling," he sat up, kissing her shoulder, "I didn't see Hope."

"To be fair," Hayley rubbed the baby's back, "I was around the corner; just came in."

"I'd never threaten you Hayley," he stifled a yawn, "that was clearly meant for my infuriating sister."

"Which one?" Freya smirked.

"Rebekah, love," he hugged Elena's waist. "She heals, you don't."

"Technically I'm still bound to Dahlia, so I would," Freya rolled her eyes. "It would just be very painful and very slow."

"Still not risking that," he blinked, turning his head towards the alarm clock. "How long were we asleep?"

"A couple hours," Hayley swayed slightly. "Rebekah's been hovering for a while."

"I was waiting," she shrugged. "I didn't want to wake you from a peaceful sleep."

"Who said anything about peaceful?" Elena sighed.

"Nightmares again, love?" Rebekah perched on the bed.

"No," she shook her head. "It just wasn't very restful," her hand reached for Kol, squeezing his palm. "What are you doing in here?"

"I've got some surprises for you." Rebekah tried and failed to hide her grin. She reached out, pulling Elena from her brother's arms and onto her feet.

"Are you kidnapping my lover?" Kol rubbed a hand back through his hair.

"Don't be silly," Freya snickered. She grabbed his elbow and pulled him up. "You're coming too."

Elena let Rebekah drag her out to the hall, watching her friend carefully as she walked backwards. There was a twinkle in the blonde's eye that increased her resemblance to Kol, and that made her equally nervous and excited.

"What sort of surprises?" Elena tilted her head.

"Ones that you'll like," she swore, "right, ladies?"

"I only know about one surprise," Hayley's brows furrowed, "so I can't speak for the other, but I'm pretty sure you'll like the first."

"Close your eyes."

"That's not anxiety inducing," Elena sighed, but listened. With her eyes closed she held tight to Rebekah's hand, waiting to be pulled further into the house, but to her shock Rebekah steered her around and through what she assumed was the door beside her room. "My surprise is in the spare room?"

"Yup," Rebekah grinned. She turned her head sharply to the left to admonish her brother and demand he cover his eyes too.

"You know," Kol shut his eyes, "I really don't like being told what to do."

"You love being told what to do," Elena smirked.

"Only when you're the one doing the telling," he reached for Elena, finding her elbow, "and nowhere near as much as you like being told what to do."

Rebekah glanced from her brother's smug expression to Elena's slight blush and made a very loud gagging sound in the back of her throat.

"Isn't it bad enough that we can you hear you," she rolled her eyes.

"You shouldn't be able to hear anything," Elena's brow furrowed. "Every room has been soundproofed."

"Yeah, but that only works if you close the windows and doors," Hayley snickered.

"Perhaps we should let them look before Elena's mortification sends her straight through the floor," Freya suggested. Her voice came from low down, as if she had sat in a chair. "I would hate for your hard work to be ruined."

"I suppose you're right," Rebekah sighed. "Just give one second…"

Elena heard the sound of curtains being dragged over their rod.

"Okay, now you can look."

She opened her eyes, blinking against the gentle light; it filtered through the clear glass to kiss the dark wood in the edge of its beam. Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly waddled closer.

The dark wood made up a crib. Inside was a white blanket with hints of coral and teal. A grey fox had been stitched onto the quilt; it was far from the only fox in the room. There was an identical fox on the lamp, and two stuffed ones poking out of a basket.

"Oh my…" tears sprang up in her eyes. She ran her finger over the mobile of grey foxes and lifted a stuffed toy from inside the crib. Her eyes read the pillow as Freya replaced it on the rocking chair – 'Wild ONE' with a pink arrow – and she couldn't help but giggle.

"Seriously, Bex?" Kol motioned to the room as a whole, but not even he could hide the soft light in his eye. He could see his daughter sleeping in the crib and taking her first steps over the cream rug to get to her mother. He could picture himself in the rocking chair, soothing her back to sleep. He could hear Elena singing to her off key as she had once done with Thierry, and himself promising their poor child that he would never let mommy sing again; he could feel the softness of the pillow Elena would whack him with.

"She's a little fox," Rebekah crossed her arms. "This seemed fitting."

Elena spotted the framed picture over the crib. Three foxes sat at the bottom in the decorated frame beneath words that made her cry even harder: 'First we had each other. Then we had you. Now we have everything'.

"I…" she cradled the stuffed fox with one hand and frantically fanned her reddening face with the other, desperately trying to calm down, but the tears were destined to fall.

"Bex!" Kol admonished, pulling Elena into his arms. He directed her to the rocking chair and propped the pillow behind her back as she sank down.

She finally managed to choke out how much she loved it after everyone had crowded around her. There as a catch in her throat that had nothing to do with the sweet gesture. The woodland nursery was the exact opposite of Hope's dark wood and glimmering crystals; it was bright and airy, fully embracing the twenty-first century's softness when it came to babies.

She just wanted it to embrace her daughter.

"Rebekah," Hayley cleared her throat, "I think you should give her the other surprise. She's in desperate need of cheering up."

She lowered Hope into a basinet Elena hadn't noticed before. Good, she thought, at least something will be used.

"What's the other surprise?" Elena hugged the stuffed fox.

"It's smaller," Rebekah opened a drawer filled with baby clothes, "but if you loved the nursery than you're going to simply adore this."

She took the leather from under a fox covered onesie and knelt next to her brother so she could slip the book into Elena's hand.

"A thousand years," Rebekah shrugged one shoulder, "maybe Caroline got the date wrong."

Elena stared for a second and then flipped open the book. Her heart stilled and then started again.

"Where did you get it?" She glanced up from the pages.

"Stefan dropped it off," Rebekah rocked back on her knees. "Apparently he's been our brother's keeper for nearly two decades, and only just remembered." A slow smile spread over her lips. "Are you going to let them out?"

"We could have a weapon by the end of the day," Kol ran a finger over the weathered leather.

"Maybe more than one," Hayley suggested. "Or a better plan than a weapon she could see coming from a mile away."

"These are problems for after," Freya interrupted. "We need them out first."

"Then give me some room," Elena motioned Kol and Rebekah away so she could slide down onto the floor. She spread the book over the rug, almost laughing when Rebekah made a comment about staining the carpet. She closed her eyes instead and placed on hand on top of her belly. "You can't kick me when I'm working."

"Would you like me to talk to her?" Kol ran a hand down Elena's spine.

"That just gets her more worked up," she snickered.

"I could sing instead," he suggested.

"I didn't know you could sing," Hayley glanced into the basinet.

"He doesn't do it often," Elena exhaled.

"I don't think I've heard him sing in centuries," Rebekah murmured.

"Perhaps you could all shut up and let her focus," Elijah leaned in the open door.

Elena nodded and leaned forward, holding her hands over the pages. The spell emerged from her lips in a whisper as she felt each seal lift. When the final lock was gone she reached into the prisons she had created and pulled.

She tumbled backwards into Kol and Rebekah.

Hayley scrambled back out of the way, pressing herself into the wall.

Elijah pulled Freya back before she could trip over limbs.

They waited for a beat with baited breath. Caroline sat up first, and Klaus followed a few seconds behind. They both looked around the room, blinking as their eyes adjusted before landing on Elena as she was righted by Rebekah and Kol.

"Really, brother," Klaus glanced toward the stuffed fox at Kol's side. "I don't recall you being this on the nose."

"Rebekah did it," he shook his head, laughing softly.

"Personally I think it's adorable," Hayley reached down, adjusting Hope's blanket, "and that you could have taken a few pointers from your sister."

"You said you loved the nursery," he frowned.

"I do," she smirked. "It's just a very different style."

Elena found her balance and scrambled forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Caroline.

"Hey," she murmured. "What's with the death grip? It's only been a couple of days?"

"It's been three weeks," Rebekah supplied, eyeing her brother and the baby vampire. Her spine straightened when she realized that she couldn't actually call Caroline that anymore since she was technically older now. "Did you get it?"

"We got it," Klaus nodded. He reached into the bag at his side and took out two drawstring bags and a jar filled with blood. "It was not easy, but we got it."

Chapter 29

Notes:

Here it is everyone. The Final Chapter before the epilogue.

I tallied this story up in word and it's 410 pages, which is 122,971 words.

Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story. Each review meant alot, even if I didn't respond to them individually.

and a special thanks to Kol-and-Elena-fanfiction for being my sounding board throughout and suggesting this idea in the first place.

We've had a wild ride.

3 Weeks Later

---

He completed the painting with a final stroke of the brush and stepped back, lifting Hope from her blanket on the floor.

"What do you think?"

She waved her arms, but didn't look at the painting. Her large blue eyes were glued to his face.

"Hmm?" He smoothed the fine hair over her head.

"I think this is adorable."

Klaus turned around in time to see Caroline walk in the room.

"It's cute how you haven't let her out of your sight," she smiled.

Hope curled her fingers, grasping his necklace. She made an attempt to lift the crest to her mouth, but was stopped by her dad.

"I don't want to miss anything," he admitted in a quiet voice.

"I'm sorry," she met his eyes. "I thought I had the right date. I was sure I told her May 18, not June."

"It's not your fault, Caroline," he shook his head. "I know you told her the right date; Sheila Bennett either wrote it down wrong or the people she trusted sat on the information for three weeks."

She nodded slowly, smiling as Hope reached and grasped her necklace. Predictably she tried to lift the howling wolf to her mouth. Caroline reached up to hold her hand away from her mouth, but then frowned.

"Wait," she looked up, "how do you 'know'?"

"I heard you, love," his brows drew together. "I've heard the ebb and flow of your voice for a thousand years; your German accent needs work."

"My German accent is excellent," she lifted an eyebrow. "How could you hear me? I didn't hear anything."

"You didn't…" his eyes widened. "Would you mind?" He handed Hope to Caroline. "I have a doppelganger to interrogate."

"Okay," she tickled Hope's toes, making the girl wiggle and coo, "just try not to put her in early labour."

"I won't yell," he promised.

Caroline shook her head and rolled her eyes. She balanced Hope on her hip and picked up the painting, carrying both out of the studio and down the hall to the sitting room.

"I think auntie Elena pulled a trick on your daddy," she cooed.

Hope pulled on Caroline's necklace.

"Yes, she did," Caroline bounced. She hung the painting in its designated spot, careful of the wet paint near the bottom. "Should we go find him? Huh?" She gave Hope her full attention. "Should we go find daddy? Or should we find mommy?"

Caroline's mouth formed a perfect 'o' as Hope's tummy rumbled. She made a show of lifting the baby girl up and pressing her ear to her stomach.

"Or do you want Caroline to get you something to eat?" She teased. A smile lifted the edges of her mouth as Hope continued to gurgle and coo.

Caroline made her way out of the room and downstairs with the intention of getting a bottle, but her path was blocked by Hayley and Rebekah.

"Let me guess," Hayley's head tilted to the left, "Klaus had her in the studio again." She reached for her daughter and cradled her then lifted the bottle she had carried from the kitchen.

"He doesn't wanna miss anything," Caroline shrugged. She hooked her finger under her necklace and toyed with the pendent; it was a habit she had picked up centuries ago.

"He was only gone for a few weeks," Hayley frowned.

"For him it was nearly fifteen years and then he came back and she was bigger than he remembered. I think he feels like he missed something important."

"Speaking of missing things," Rebekah's eyes narrowed, flickering to Caroline's throat.

Caroline frowned, and then realized exactly what the Original was staring at.

"I am fairly certain that necklace was around my brother's neck when you two went back in time."

---

Kol leaned over the back of the chair to read the book in her lap.

"Does anything in that book really apply?" He frowned.

"A few things," she pursed her lips, "but nowhere in here has it touched on blood cravings."

"Perhaps you should write your own book," he smirked.

"What to Expect When You're Expecting: Vampire Edition?" She turned her chin so she could meet his eyes.

"Hybrid Edition," he gave her a playful kiss. He felt her wince and leaned back. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she grunted, "just a little cramp. I'm fine."

"I may not be an expert on the subject, but I'm fairly certain cramps are not fine," Finn glanced up from his book.

"It's probably just Braxton Hicks," Elena flipped through the book until she reached the chapter. "They can start around 33 weeks."

Kol sat on the arm of her chair and took the book, skimming the section on Braxton hicks. He then flipped through until he found a chart.

"Oh, this is interesting," he nodded.

"What is?" Elena shifted in her seat as the baby moved, settling low.

"Right now she is roughly the size of a pineapple," he turned the page to Elena.

"Are you kidding me?" Elena winced, reading and putting her hand on her hard abdomen. "She only weighs 4.23 pounds; feels a lot heavier than that."

"That's likely the fluid surrounding her," Kol flipped pages. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Her belly softened.

"Fine," she exhaled. "She's just decided to use my bladder as a pillow."

"Well," he smirked, "as long as she's comfortable."

"Now if only we could both be comfortable at the same time," she rolled her eyes.

Elena shifted forward, reaching for her glass. She nearly dropped it when Klaus stormed into the room, startling her.

"I have a question for you, sweetheart," he clenched his hands into fists, making the red paint stand out against his fingers.

"Shoot," she willed her heart to slow back down and sipped her glass of blood.

"I've just spoken with Caroline," his eyes narrowed, "and came to an interesting discovery."

Elena frowned, watching the way his jaw ticked.

"She didn't hear a word," he went on speaking through gritted teeth. "Twenty years passed in blissful silence, but I heard everything."

"Is there a question in there?" Elena rubbed her stomach. She could feel the questioning gazes of Finn and Kol; their curiosity was joined by Elijah as he walked around his brother and glanced at Elena.

"What did you do?" His eyes flashed gold.

"I made a few modifications," Elena licked the velvety blood from her bottom lip and carefully shifted toward the edge of the chair. "I do keep my promises," her eyes flickered to Finn before back to Klaus.

It took a second for her words to sink in, but when they did Finn started laughing. The foreign sound startled everyone into dragging their eyes to the eldest brother.

"Elena," he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye once his laughter was under control, "I think I love you."

"As long as you're not in love with her," Kol smirked, "because I don't share."

Elena smiled around her wince and rolled her neck. A strong cramp gripped her stomach and she couldn't help but gasp and rock forward; just when she felt the pain would never end it stopped and she was able to feel Kol's hand on her lower back.

She took quick breaths and managed to look up. The words were on the tip of her tongue when Kol cut her off.

"Don't you dare tell me you're fine."

---

She struggled not to scream; it was difficult with the muscles in her abdomen twisting tighter and tighter. The pain grew. She clutched his hands and arched her back as if stretching would alleviate the pressure.

When it passed she panted and blinked, relaxing momentarily against his chest. A new smell had entered the room; a combination of blood and other fluids.

She didn't need Freya to tell her.

"You're definitely in labour."

The blonde had barely lifted the sheet when her water broke.

"I can't be…" she shifted, shaking her head. "I'm only…"

"To be honest, Elena, I'm surprised you made it this far," Freya folded the sheet up. "You haven't exactly had a stress free pregnancy. Hayley delivered early too."

"Not seven wee…" Elena cut off as another contraction caused her to double over.

"Just breathe," Freya coached. She spread Elena's legs and bent to get a good look. "I've got good news."

"What," Elena's voice rose to a screech. It had been a mistake to open her mouth.

Freya waited patiently for the contraction to pass. When Elena was resting again she lowered the sheet.

"You're six centimetres dilated," she smiled.

Elena's brow furrowed. "How is that good news? The pain started thirty minutes ago."

"It's good news because it means you'll most likely have a short labour," Freya patted her knee. "I'm going to run and grab some supplies alright?" She didn't allow Elena a chance to respond before turning her gaze to her brother. "Kol, give me a hand?"

"There are seven other people in this house," his eyes narrowed.

She gave him a look that brokered no argument, reminding him that she was in fact the eldest sibling. He pressed a kiss to Elena's sweaty temple and stood, promising to return in a few seconds.

Freya caught Hayley on the way out the door and sent her inside. Kol just heard her telling Elena the pain was going to get a lot worse and Elena releasing a strangled laugh before he was pulled into the nursery.

Freya shut the door quietly and double checked the window.

"Your supplies are in the nursery?"

"A few of them," she cleared her throat.

He watched her stride to the dresser and pull out several receiving blankets, onesies and hats.

"Are you going to tell me why you needed me?" He tried not to snap, but every instinct told him to return to the bedroom. "That's hardly an armful."

"I need you to make a golem," Freya met his eyes before he could look away. She pulled a silver bracelet from her pocket. "And I need you to give this to Klaus so he can put it on Hope."

She dropped the bracelet in his hand. It coiled in on itself, completely innocuous.

"Then get the weapons and make sure that everyone has one."

"Freya, what is going on?" He couldn't feel anything special about the jewelry. "Why do we need a golem?"

"The golem is to distract Dahlia," Freya shook her head. "Get a little blood from Hope and make it."

"I understood that bit, but why does it have to be done right now?" He gestured to the wall separating him from Elena. "Her body is preparing to give birth to my child as we speak."

"Which is why it needs to be now!" Freya motioned with her hands. "Last time she showed up while Hayley was in labour."

"She couldn't possibly know," he shook his head.

"She understand that stress can lead to preterm labour," Freya gripped the tiny hat in her hand. "Do you really think she's not watching this compound? She's a blood relative to nearly every inside; if she wanted to she could look through our eyes."

"She knows," he whispered.

"She knows," Freya hissed. "The only safe room to talk in is this one and Hope's. I placed barriers to keep out any unwanted eyes. Now go!"

"Why am I the one doing this?" He moved toward the door.

"Do you know how to deliver a baby?" Freya countered.

"No."

"Then you've answered your own question."

They stepped into the hall and were instantly assaulted with noise. Freya heard nothing beyond Elena's screech, but Kol heard Elijah's voice from where he stood in the courtyard.

"Bloody hell!"

"Go," she shoved his shoulder.

He didn't require a second push before racing through the compound to Hayley's room. He was unsurprised to find Klaus and Caroline in the adjoining nursery.

"Caroline can you go and help Elena?" He started wrapping the silver around Hope's wrist, overlapping the chain to keep it in place.

"I can help her, but you know that I'm physically older than all of you, right?" She crossed her arms. "Do you really think home birth is the best use of that strength?"

"How did you…?"

"We have ears, brother," Klaus fingered the bracelet on his daughter's tiny wrist. "What is this?"

"No idea," he shook his head and held out his arms. "Give her here," he instructed. "I need to make a decoy."

"A decoy?" Klaus frowned, carefully handing his child over.

"Freya said a golem, but I'm a little short on mud," he looked around the room.

---

The first time Dahlia had tried to take the first child it had been pure chaos, but she had been watching the compound for months, both from within and without. She knew exactly how many people were inside, and vampires were easily dealt with.

She would have liked to have killed them all to prevent them ever coming after her and the children, but alas that remained an impossibility. She could have done it with a sliver of white oak, but the second child's mother had ensured every last scrap was incinerated.

That was fine.

She could cloak them all; nobody would find them.

The first time she took the compound had been chaos, but the second was easy.

She knew how many to anticipate. She knew how many necks she had to break.

Finn, Elijah and Sage had fallen first within the confines of the courtyard. Rebekah went down on the stairs. That left her with the parents, the spare, and the ungrateful child.

She could sense the magic from the firstborns in the house. Two of them were behind a closed door near the end of the hall, but one was closer. She veered towards that one and found herself in a dimly lit sitting room.

---

Caroline shifted from one foot to the other, telling herself that she was soothing the perfectly calm baby girl in her arms and not herself.

"It's okay," she breathed, "we're okay…"

She reached into her pocket, curling her fingers around the hilt of the dagger she hoped she wouldn't have to use.

---

Elena gasped bending forward until she was doubled over her stomach. There was no conceivable way her baby girl was comfortable inside.

Freya patted a damp cloth over her forehead.

A loud thud sounded outside the bedroom door.

"Wha..." Elena groaned, shutting her eyes against the pain. It subsided a fraction and allowed her an opportunity to grit out the question. "What was that?"

Hayley exchanged a cloak with Freya over her head; she heard something tight in the hybrid's voice that set her teeth on edge.

"I'm going to go check."

Hayley fled the room before the pain faded, shutting the door behind her.

She slumped against the pillows, longing for Kol's solid chest. He had been by her side for weeks, and without the threat over their heads she might have found the adorable way he hovered annoying.

She yearned for his sweet reassurances.

"Freya," she rubbed her stomach, "what's going on?"

"You're having a baby," she refolded some towels.

"Well, that explains the stomach ache," she rolled her eyes. "That is not what I meant..." she broke off in a strangled moan.

When the contraction passed she fixed the eldest Mikaelson with a tired glare. "What's going on? Where's Kol?"

"You know," she attempted to change the subject; "traditionally men were not involved in childbirth."

"Since when is Kol concerned with tradition?" She gritted her teeth, rocking forward. "He wouldn't miss this!"

She pressed the cloth to her head and was silent, hoping the pain would make her forget her question.

It didn't.

"Freya!" She curled her fingers around her sleeve, pinching skin in the process. "Where is he?"

Freya winced, pressing her mouth into a thin line until Elena's contraction subsided and her arm was released. She knew there was going to be a bruise. She resisted the urge to rub the spot in order to save Elena the guilt she would undoubtedly feel.

"He's down the hall," she perched on the edge of the bed and reached out to hold her face with one hand. "He wants to be here, but he has to be there; some things he won't leave to Klaus."

Elena's brows lowered and then shot up, breath stilling in her lungs.

"He… She…"

"You need to keep breathing."

"I need to kill that bitch!" Elena struggled to get up.

"Elena," Freya grasped her elbow. "I know you want her dead. I want her dead too, but you can't take care of her right now. You have to leave the task to Kol and Klaus; you have a more important job to do."

She stood up and guided Elena back into a more comfortable position.

"You just focus on giving birth to your beautiful baby girl, okay?"

Elena nodded slowly.

"Tell me what you're going to do when all of this is over."

"What?" Elena frowned.

"Tell me," Freya adjusted the sheet over Elena's legs. "Talking will distract you."

"I'd love to sleep for a week, but that seems unlikely to happen with a newborn," she gritted her teeth. "I don't think I'll sleep for a year."

"You've got Kol and a house full of family," Freya dipped the cloth in a bowl of cool water. "If you want to sleep he'll make sure you get the time to sleep. He'll probably insist on it."

"Who said we were staying here?" Elena managed a small smile.

"I think you'll have a hell of a fight with Rebekah if you try to take one of her nieces out of the compound," she shook her head, smiling, "that, or she'll insist on relocating that beautiful nursery and moving in with the both of you. It might be easier to stay here for a while."

"Maybe," she gripped the bedsheets. "What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?" Freya blinked.

"What are you going to do when she's gone? What are you going to do when she's not hovering over your head anymore?"

Elena took quick breaths to get through her next contraction and found that a little easier; it allowed her to see the way Freya lowered her eyes when she didn't answer the question.

"What is it?" Elena squeezed her eyes shut, rocking forward to hold the backs of her legs.

"It's not important right now," she pulled Elena's dark hair away from her face.

"You said talking would distract me." She ground out, leaving out the fact that it really wasn't helping. "So talk. Tell me what you're gonna do."

"Nothing," Freya whispered.

"What do you mean nothing?"

"I mean nothing, Elena," she sighed, sitting back on the bed. "My life is still bound to Dahlia…"

Elena wanted to straighten up and look her in the eye, but her body wasn't responding anymore.

"… I had planned to unbind myself with a spell I found in Esther's grimoire, but I didn't get the chance…"

She knew what Freya was going to say when she broke off: she didn't get the chance because she had gone into early labour. Freya was going to die because she was bringing life into the world ahead of schedule.

"Is it the unknotting spell?" A pressure built in her body.

"How do you know about that?" Her head tilted.

"Kol… Kol… showed it to me," she breathed quickly. "He used it for Hayley and Sophie. Will it work?"

"Yes…"

"Then do it."

"I'm a little busy at the moment," she shook her head.

"No, I'm a little busy at the moment," she wanted to roll her eyes, but an intense stinging made her snap them shut.

"I don't have rope," she lifted the sheet.

"Bottom drawer," she nodded in the direction of the dresser.

"Elena I can't do it right now," Freya bypassed the question of why there was rope in the bedroom, knowing the answer would likely lead to a mental picture and that was not the last memory she wanted in her head.

"Do the damn spell," her voice rose as she shifted and bore down, "or I'll do it myself." She threw out her arm.

The dresser toppled, crashing in a mess of wood and fabric.

"I can see her head Elena!"

"Then you'd better work fast," she panted, doing her best to not push.

---

Hayley raced into the sitting room faster than the eye could see, positioning herself between Dahlia and Klaus.

"You have a wonderful sense of timing, little wolf," Klaus lowered Hope into a bassinet. She blinked up sleepily.

"I'm not letting that bitch anywhere near my baby," her eyes flashed gold.

"There is no need for that Hayley," Dahlia sighed. "It's really quite pointless. The child is mine by right, as is the other."

"You're not getting near her either," Kol slipped inside, shutting the door with one hand.

"Do you propose to stop me?" Her brows rose. She spun in a slow circle, keeping the three within her sights.

"That was the idea," Kol's eyes hardened.

"I admire your enthusiasm," Dahlia smiled, "but you're not capable of it. You've failed once already. It would be best to just give in to it. No?" She spread out her arms, shrugging when nobody budged. "Very well."

She twisted her wrists, watching with boredom as the trio dropped to their knees and clutched their heads. She could only imagine the pain burning through their minds. She supposed she could have broken their necks, but there was a small part that wanted them to watch her take the baby from the room for daring to defy her; she could always seal them in after.

When they were broken and panting she lowered her hands and stepped over her nephews, and bent over the bassinet.

A genuine smile rose on her face.

She reached inside and lifted the silent infant who blinked up at her curiously.

"Don't touch her," Hayley hissed. She wanted to jump up and rip her child from the witch's arms but her body wasn't responding to her mind.

---

"Don't touch her!"

Caroline's head jerked towards the hall as she lowered the baby into the crib. She fingered the knife in her pocket and carefully slipped the talisman from the onesie's pocket.

---

"What?" Disbelief coloured Dahlia's tone.

Hayley's eyes focused on the witch and then darted to Klaus when she spotted the stuffed bunny in her arms.

He flashed a tight smirk, jumping to his feet. He grasped Dahlia's arms, wrenching them behind her back.

Kol stood pulling a knife from his jacket in the process. His arm swung up in a smooth arch. Her skin spread apart with the consistency of warm butter for the invading weapon.

Dahlia's mouth formed a perfect 'o'. In the process of looking down she froze.

The trio watched as her skin turned grey. It flaked slowly, ashes drifting to the floor.

Kol twisted the knife, pushing it in farther. Ash fell, clinging to his sleeves.

He pulled his arm back, thrusting forward again. He repeated the motion, until more and more ash littered the floor.

"Kol!" Rebekah stumbled in the open door. "Hey!"

Klaus spotted his sister. The body fell from his arms, falling apart in a grey cloud when it hit the floor.

Kol breathed heavily, slowly turning around with the cursed knife in his hand.

"I think you got her," Rebekah gave the carpet a pointed look.

"And now you've got somewhere to be," Klaus knelt, sifting through the ashes for the toy.

Kol forced his fingers to uncurl and ran from the room before the metal hit the floor.

"Do you think Hope would notice if we replaced this?"

He pushed around his eldest brothers and nearly collided with Sage, missing her by a narrow margin on his mad dash down the hall.

The bedroom door banged inwards, catching at the halfway mark. He sidestepped inside, eyeing the broken dresser for a moment before lifting his eyes.

Elena was screaming on the bed.

Freya knelt between her parted legs.

A length of rope hung over the nightstand.

"What the bloody hell happened in here?"

Elena moaned. Her head turned to the side when she heard his voice.

She extended her hand.

He moved to her side and reached for her hand before catching sight of his appearance in the mirror. He stripped off his filthy jacket, brushed the worst of the ashes away and grasped her hand.

"Did I miss anything?" He knelt, kissing her brow.

"Nearly," Freya glanced up. "Just a couple more pushes, Elena."

"I was starting to think you forgot about us," Elena gasped.

"I'll never forget you, darling," he promised, meeting her glittering eyes. "Now do as my sister says, and push."

"Not yet," she shook her head.

"Elena…"

"No," she clutched his fingers. Sudden panic clawed at her throat. "I don't think I can do this…" tears shimmered in her eyes. "I can't… I can't bring her into this world and lose her."

"Hey," he cradled her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her blotchy skin, "we're not losing her. Dahlia is dead."

"She's dead?" She swallowed a lump.

"She's dead!" Freya's brows rose.

"She's dead," he nodded. "I killed her." He stared into Elena's eyes until the panic eased and only pain was left; he hated himself for causing it. "Can we meet our daughter now?"

She nodded, fast, and squeezed his hand. Bones cracked under the pressure of her determination; she pushed with all of her strength, and then again when Freya urged.

A few seconds ticked by, half a minute passed.

The pressure eased completely, leaving her with a great feeling of emptiness. There was a long torturous moment where all she could hear was her own laboured breathing.

Then a glorious sound filled the room.

She shifted slightly, a broad smile stretched over her face.

"There we go," Freya cooed, wrapping a receiving blanket around the infant, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

The snappy part of Elena's brain wanted to make a smart retort but with her eyes on the red faced infant she couldn't help but agree; the pain seemed like nothing now.

"There are two people here very excited to meet you," she stood, carefully placing the tiny child in her mother's arms.

"Hello." Elena wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, so she wound up doing both; the baby's cries quieted, but she continued to squirm and fuss. "I know," a tear dripped onto the blanket, "you wanted to stay where it was nice and warm. I wanted that too."

Kol wrapped his arm around Elena's back. He longed to reach out and touch her, but he dared not while traces of Dahlia remained on his body. He wouldn't let that woman touch his daughter in life or death.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, running her finger over the tiny cheek. "I did my best."

"You did amazing," he kissed her temple.

---

The shrill cry of her newborn daughter roused her from sleep. She pried her eyes open and pushed up on her palms, but by the time she was sitting the whimpers had cut off.

She sat back against the headboard and rubbed her eyes, smiling softly.

Kol cradled their newborn in both hands, holding her close to his body to still the slight tremor in his arms.

"She's so small," Elena whispered.

Kol moved toward her slowly and sat sideways on the clean bed. Someone had tidied up when she took her shower; she had been too exhausted to notice, but she saw it now. Their bedroom was clean, and so was he.

"I'm terrified that I'll break her," he admitted, staring into his arms.

"You won't," she blinked slowly, letting her eyes drift nearly shut.

"Speaking of breaking things," he glanced up, "what happened to the dresser?"

She shrugged. "I got a little frustrated."

"And took it out on the furniture?" He chuckled.

"Mmhmm," she nodded. She lifted one hand to her sore breasts, rubbing the worst spots. "Is she hungry?"

She might have questioned how breast feeding her child was a possibility, but she doubted anyone would have an answer to the query. It wasn't like there were thousands of witch-vampire hybrids around the world, or anyone at all to draw experience from. She was making the rules up as she went along; magic made her and magic would sustain her.

"I don't know," he pushed the light brown hair from her face. "I thought she might be, but then she quieted down."

"She's happy with cuddles," Elena inhaled.

"She won't be for long," he tilted his head, listening to her little heartbeat. He might have laughed when she started fussing if it didn't mean he had to give her up. "See?"

He watched Elena unfasten the buttons on his stolen shirt and then carefully instigated the transfer.

She positioned the infant and winced. A sharp pinprick stabbed her nipple before she began to suckle.

"Freya examined her while you slept," he noted the lines around her mouth and brow. "She gave her a clean bill of health."

"Perfectly healthy?" She looked up, readjusting her hold when the baby unlatched.

"Perfectly healthy," he nodded, "must be the vampire in her."

Elena nodded. She held her gently.

They lapsed into silence for a while after that, both captivated by the sight of their child eating.

"I thought of a name," she whispered when she was finished, wiping a line of pink from her rosebud mouth. She shifted the small body carefully, rubbing her back until she released a tiny gas bubble.

"It's not Mary again, is it?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"No," she crossed her legs under the blankets and moved her back into the cradle of her arms. "Honestly that reminds me too much of Davina's ancestor, but she wouldn't be here without her meddling either."

"You're not going to suggest Alice are you?" He frowned. He doubted he could have denied Elena anything after the pain she endured to bring the child into the world.

"No," she shook her head. "Eve," she looked down to the tiny face. "The spell that made her possibly was cast on Christmas Eve, and as much as I would like to erase most of my time in that cottage from my memory, I don't want all of it to be forgotten."

"Eve, huh?" He leaned closer, peering into her little face.

"Eve," she exhaled slowly, releasing some of the tension that had settled during her pregnancy. "I also don't want to forget the other witch whose meddling made her possible, so I was thinking Eve Freya Mikaelson."

His eyes snapped up to her tired gaze.

"What happened to not naming children after relatives?" He held out his arms, taking the baby.

"That only applies to first names," she smirked, letting her eyes slip shut again, "and besides, Freya is alive."

"Eve Freya Mikaelson," her mouth puckered when he said the name. "I think it suits her."

She was starting to drift off when the quiet devastation in his voice brought her back to awareness.

"I take it back."

She opened her eyes and swallowed at the serious set of his features; it was a rare occurrence when he looked at her like that.

"Oh?"

There were so many things he could be taking back: the name, wanting the baby, saying he loved her. Surely it was one of those three; he wouldn't look so torn up by something trivial.

"Yes, I take it back," he exhaled slowly, turning wide eyes from her to Eve.

Her heart jumped into her throat. With his next words she vowed to punish him when she had the energy.

"There is one thing more beautiful than you."

Chapter 30: Epilogue: 11 Months Later

Since the defeat of Dahlia there were very few things that would rouse the beautiful mother of his child from her sleep. Only two proved consistent: his mouth on that one spot where her shoulder met her throat, or Eve.

He remained a light sleeper in comparison. That meant he heard their wonderful child first.

The whimpers reached his ears through the crackle of the video monitor and he sat up, reading the time stamp through narrow eyes.

It was too soon to be awake. She had gone to sleep with a full belly and should have slept soundly until morning.

He pressed a kiss to Elena’s bare arm and climbed from the bed before the whimpers could rise to a full blown cry that would wake her as well. He located a pair of pajama bottoms and slipped from the room toward the nursery.

Eve’s whimpers turned to sniffles when she saw her dada. She held out her arms.

“Alright, my little fox,” he picked her up, “what’s the problem?”

Eve snuggled into his neck.

He gave her a hug and then lowered her back into the crib.

He made it three steps backwards when she stood up again.

“Dada,” she waved for him to come back. Fat tears in her dark eyes.

He returned and laid her back down, sighing when she stood right back up and started reaching out this time with tears.

“Shh, Evie,” he laid her back down and pressed his palm to her belly. “Mama hasn’t had a full night sleep since you were born – and yes, that is partially my fault, but tonight we’re gonna let her rest. Understand?”

Eve blinked up at him.

When Kol was satisfied that she wasn’t going to stand up again he started to back up; only to have her stand up again.

She reached for him.

“You’re persistent,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ll give you that.” He watched her for a second and then nodded. “Very well.”

He moved her closer to the edge of the crib and used the rocking chair for leverage.

Eve blinked, watching owlishly as Dada climbed into her bed and lay down. She dropped onto her knees and crawled closer to him and put her head on his chest.

Kol’s hand settled on her back. He made a half-hearted effort to have her lower her bottom, but it was no use; she was drifting off on top of him with her little bum in the air.

Every time he thought she was under he tried to move her so he could climb out, but in each instant she would wake back up and give him a look he swore she learned from her mother.

Eventually they both drifted off.

In the next room over Elena propped herself up on her elbow and blinked at the video monitor. She stared uncomprehendingly for several seconds before the sight sunk in. When it did she snatched the monitor from the nightstand and pressed a couple of buttons.

---

Gentle sunlight roused Kol from sleep the next morning, but it took him a second to realize what was wrong.

There was a tiny body on his chest, but that was nothing new. However, cramped legs, and sunlight coming from the wrong angle caused him to open his eyes, when he did he saw Klaus hovering over him with Hope in his arms.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” He shook his head, mirth flashing in his eyes.

Kol frowned, twisting his neck to look around. His eyes widened when he saw the bars surrounding him and felt the stuffed fox under his hip.

“Cut him some slack, Niklaus,” Elijah leaned over the crib. “It’s only partially his fault; Elena’s genetics could only take care of so much.”

“What are you talking about?” Kol croaked, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm.

Eve continued to sleep peacefully.

“You, brother,” Finn appeared above his head. “You wouldn’t sleep unless mother held you.”

“You could be a real terror,” Elijah smirked.

“Rebekah was preferable,” Klaus chuckled. “You would cry all night; oddly enough it got worse when Rebekah came along.”

“I never…” Kol felt his face turning red.

“You did,” Finn nodded.

“I was a bloody infant!”

“Actually, at that point you were nearly three,” Elijah added, much to his brother’s chagrin.

“And you still looked like a little troll,” Klaus lifted Hope a few inches higher.

“What’s everyone doing in here?” Rebekah slipped into the room with Freya.

“Mocking our little brother,” Elijah smirked. “He’s made it far too easy.”

“Why exactly are you mocking Kol?” Elena chose that moment to join the group, leaving out the fact that she had been listening via the video monitor. There may or may not have been a recording.

“Darling, thank goodness,” Kol called, lifting his head to peek between his crowding siblings. “Kindly get me out of here. I can feel my reputation slipping away.” He glared up at Klaus.

Eve grunted and shifted higher on his chest until her dark hair tickled his chin.

“A little help, my love?”

“E’e,” Hope pointed sleepily.

“Do you miss your little cousin, sweetheart?” Klaus grinned. “It’s only been a night since you saw her.”

“E’ee,” Hope repeated.

“I know just what you need, love,” Freya smirked. She plucked Hope from her brother and deposited her in the crib.

“I wanted out of the crib, not more kids piled on me,” he rolled his eyes.

“Hope wanted a cuddle,” Freya laughed. Hope proved her point by snuggling up close to her uncle and cousin. “Now I need to have a picture of this.”

“To think I named my child after you!” He grumbled.

“We all know that was Elena’s call,” Rebekah made room for the brunette.

Kol turned his gaze on Elena and cocked an eyebrow. She knew his anger was really directed at his laughing siblings because he wouldn’t care a bit about crawling into his daughter’s crib; she had watched him make the decision.

“Are you going to help me out of here?”

“Sure,” she bent over the rail and gave him a quick kiss.

“Not in front of the children,” Rebekah groaned.

Elena ignored her, and straightened up, pulling her cell phone from her back pocket silently.

“I just need to do one thing first.” She whipped the phone around lightning fast and snapped a photograph.

“Oi,” he struggled to move under the babies, “delete that right now. That picture could ruin my reputation.”

“More than the video?” Elena bit her lip to hide her smirk. She bent a little closer and whispered. “You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

She watched his eyes widen before snatching Eve up and walked out of the room. Smirking over her shoulder when Klaus retrieved Hope with a low whistle.

“You’ve definitely rubbed off on her.”

Notes:

There we go. The final chapter of the Forgotten, but I'm not done with this universe yet. There is a sequel in the works titled: The Forgotten: Blood Moon Rising