Elena Gilbert (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
braveandstupid) wrote2012-10-25 09:13 pm
braveandstupid) wrote2012-10-25 09:13 pm
mud and blood } { and still i will search for her nightly
Time is a funny thing.
It slips away and comes back again, all at the same time. One minute you’re standing in an alley in Paris and the next you’re standing on the steps of a house that you haven’t seen in a very long time, the lights in the windows burning and hurting your eyes. Lockwood as a rule isn’t a very strong wood—most of it bends and breaks, catering to the whims of other trees, but when it truly has room to grow it’s one of the strongest she knows.
You used to have a house with Lockwood doors. It’d been a longtime since then, and all the rest of the house has fallen away, piece by piece, but you still remember the way the wood used to feel under your fingers, protective, strong. It’s wisps of memory that float their way through with a smile, a laugh, and a little boy with a wolf’s heart who just wanted to belong to someone who would love without taking.
They were all pieces of your home once. There was a girl who floated through the windows and burned brighter than the sun, a boy who would shelter you, even when you didn’t want it, and the girl gave more than she took, who brought them all together, grounding them in a way that roots could never do. Together you all were a home, and you tried your hardest to keep hold of them all, but time eats everything away in the end. Doors break, windows crack. Roofs leak and foundations crumble. And the hearts …
… Hearts fade away before they even get the chance to be.
You float down the stairs, slipping into the darkness as you follow the sound of someone singing. It could be you. The sound of your own voice is so foreign these days that you’re not entirely sure what it is you’re following, but it’s a path. A road that you haven’t traveled before and never will again. No two roads are traveled twice after all. You always come down them a little bit different, so you still never know what dangers are lurking behind any corner.
The song leads you to another house, with low lights and dark rooms. Those rooms hold secrets, too many of them, some of them yours and some not, but secrets all the same. This house held two men with lion’s hearts who lived far too long and lost far too much.
(They weren’t always lions, not really. One of them was a snake, and the other a beast, but they both found their way in the end. Both found their way to you, and you cost them more than they ever imagined. Everything has a cost, just like no road is ever the same and when it comes down to the end a debt is owed.
Debts must be paid, not even death makes them go away, and yours is far too large for you to carry on your own.
This place isn’t their home anymore, because of you, and now one of them is gone, and it’s hard to balance when you’re only standing on one leg.)
The doors give way to you. They’re not supposed to, they stopped granting you access long ago, but they still give way now, almost as though they’re trying to welcome you home. It is after all, where things began. Life is a road but time is a circle, and sometimes things come back around again when it’s time for them to end.
Your heels click against the floor, solid and sure, but they’re not your own. There’s a girl in your way, a girl who had too much sadness for the world to bear, and so much love that she had to give it all away, and give it to too many. You don’t know how she continues to stand up straight with the weight of her heart in her chest, but you should know, somehow.
(That girl was you once, after all.)
“Katherine?”
You both say it at the same time, your voice full of hope and longing, hers of foreboding and fear. The discord of it all makes you laugh.
“I forgot how pretty I used to be. Red isn’t really my color.”
Red isn’t anyone’s color. It sticks to the skin, and you can never wash it away, no matter how hard you try. You’ve always worn too much red, even before you realized you were wearing it. Even then, it’s not really your fault, but you always wore it anyway.
“Who are you?”
You don’t answer the question. You know she already knows, she just doesn’t want to admit it.
“Has the wolf come for you yet?” It’s cryptic and wrong, and only makes the girl look even more confused. “No, he can’t have. There’s not enough anger in you yet.”
The girl just watches her, a small mix of determination and horror, as it all begins to dawn on her. She doesn’t really see, can’t really understand, but she tries. It’s why she gives all her love away and never keeps any for herself.
“Don’t worry. The wolf isn’t as scary as he looks. He just takes more than his share.”
“What wolf? Do you mean Tyler?”
A small smile crosses your face, but you shake your head. “He has the heart but not the guile. The wolf is coming, but he’s not here yet. But don’t worry. You’ll be safe.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You never do.” She takes another step towards the girl, her hands coming up to thread her fingers through the dark curtain of brown that parts like silk. There’s a small moment of calm as the horror starts to fade, replaced by something that could be curiosity. You can feel the rabbit-patter of her heart against your chest, hear the thud-thud, thud-thud of it in your ears, and you know what you have to do.
“Is that why I become you?”
Again, you don’t answer the question. It’s easy to do when you don’t have an answer. Instead, your hand drifts down her neck, exposed with her hair pulled back, and her eyes follow the line.
“I always wondered if it would be sweet.”
Your other hand twists, wrapping the strands of hair around your fingers. Your fangs extend, and you yank her head back before digging in. The blood floods your mouth. It tastes like lost chances and regret, and there’s nothing about those things that are sweet.
Then all of that is ripped away as you’re slammed into the far wall. It takes you a moment to realize what’s happening, because there’s a shocking familiarity to it all. You look up and all you see is a sea of ice blue, familiar but not at the same time. They’ve never been angry with you—or, at least they haven’t in a long time.
It doesn’t change the fact that he knows. He lets you go almost as soon as he pins you, because he can see that you aren’t Katherine. You never were.
“What the hell?”
You don’t move. You should have known he’d be there. He was always there, always protecting you, and there’s no reason he shouldn’t be now. Only it’s not you he is protecting, not this time. Unfortunately, this time he won’t be able to win, and he can see that too.
“Elena, run!”
The girl does as she’s told, taking off for the far door, and your eyes drift back to him with a resigned sigh. “Rabbits never run fast enough.”
You take off after her, speeding to a stop in front of her, hand out. When Elena slams into you, the hand cuts through skin, muscle and bone until it closes around the thudding rabbit heart beating in her chest. The girl’s eyes look at you, full of confusion and betrayal, and all you can do is smile, though you know it isn’t comforting.
“Don’t worry,” you whisper, “you’re safe now.”
Then you tear the heart from her chest.
Her body drops to the ground, and there’s some kind of sound from Damon, something between grief and disbelief. The heart stays in your hand for a moment, before your wrist goes limp and it drops to the ground with a plop!
“It was too heavy for her.”
The sound from Damon turns from grief to rage, and there’s a blur as he charges you. The door splinters behind you and you land, hard on the porch, him on top of you.
“Why did you do that? She’s you, why would you—”
You cut him off with a kiss. It’s been so long since you’ve kissed him and it’s like oxygen is being forced back into your lungs again. You feel like the girl you just killed, giddy and hopeful, but you know that it won’t last.
Because the girl you killed is you, and you simply don’t have the time.
Still, he breaks the kiss first. He doesn’t understand, you can see that much, but you can feel death clawing at your feet and you don’t have the time. You want to be that girl again, but you can’t. They took away your rabbit heart and tried to give you claws and wings instead.
In the absence of Damon above you, your eyes are drawn to the body is still lying on the floor. You can’t help but stare at it for a moment, as the gravity of it all settles over you, crushing you almost as though someone had dropped a car. Your eyes prickle, but you won’t get the chance to cry.
“Poor little rabbit girl.” You turn back to him, as though he’s the one who has all the answers, even though you know he doesn’t. You’re also not talking about Elena anymore, but that he probably knows. “Why did they try to make her fly?”
1660 words
It slips away and comes back again, all at the same time. One minute you’re standing in an alley in Paris and the next you’re standing on the steps of a house that you haven’t seen in a very long time, the lights in the windows burning and hurting your eyes. Lockwood as a rule isn’t a very strong wood—most of it bends and breaks, catering to the whims of other trees, but when it truly has room to grow it’s one of the strongest she knows.
You used to have a house with Lockwood doors. It’d been a longtime since then, and all the rest of the house has fallen away, piece by piece, but you still remember the way the wood used to feel under your fingers, protective, strong. It’s wisps of memory that float their way through with a smile, a laugh, and a little boy with a wolf’s heart who just wanted to belong to someone who would love without taking.
They were all pieces of your home once. There was a girl who floated through the windows and burned brighter than the sun, a boy who would shelter you, even when you didn’t want it, and the girl gave more than she took, who brought them all together, grounding them in a way that roots could never do. Together you all were a home, and you tried your hardest to keep hold of them all, but time eats everything away in the end. Doors break, windows crack. Roofs leak and foundations crumble. And the hearts …
… Hearts fade away before they even get the chance to be.
You float down the stairs, slipping into the darkness as you follow the sound of someone singing. It could be you. The sound of your own voice is so foreign these days that you’re not entirely sure what it is you’re following, but it’s a path. A road that you haven’t traveled before and never will again. No two roads are traveled twice after all. You always come down them a little bit different, so you still never know what dangers are lurking behind any corner.
The song leads you to another house, with low lights and dark rooms. Those rooms hold secrets, too many of them, some of them yours and some not, but secrets all the same. This house held two men with lion’s hearts who lived far too long and lost far too much.
(They weren’t always lions, not really. One of them was a snake, and the other a beast, but they both found their way in the end. Both found their way to you, and you cost them more than they ever imagined. Everything has a cost, just like no road is ever the same and when it comes down to the end a debt is owed.
Debts must be paid, not even death makes them go away, and yours is far too large for you to carry on your own.
This place isn’t their home anymore, because of you, and now one of them is gone, and it’s hard to balance when you’re only standing on one leg.)
The doors give way to you. They’re not supposed to, they stopped granting you access long ago, but they still give way now, almost as though they’re trying to welcome you home. It is after all, where things began. Life is a road but time is a circle, and sometimes things come back around again when it’s time for them to end.
Your heels click against the floor, solid and sure, but they’re not your own. There’s a girl in your way, a girl who had too much sadness for the world to bear, and so much love that she had to give it all away, and give it to too many. You don’t know how she continues to stand up straight with the weight of her heart in her chest, but you should know, somehow.
(That girl was you once, after all.)
“Katherine?”
You both say it at the same time, your voice full of hope and longing, hers of foreboding and fear. The discord of it all makes you laugh.
“I forgot how pretty I used to be. Red isn’t really my color.”
Red isn’t anyone’s color. It sticks to the skin, and you can never wash it away, no matter how hard you try. You’ve always worn too much red, even before you realized you were wearing it. Even then, it’s not really your fault, but you always wore it anyway.
“Who are you?”
You don’t answer the question. You know she already knows, she just doesn’t want to admit it.
“Has the wolf come for you yet?” It’s cryptic and wrong, and only makes the girl look even more confused. “No, he can’t have. There’s not enough anger in you yet.”
The girl just watches her, a small mix of determination and horror, as it all begins to dawn on her. She doesn’t really see, can’t really understand, but she tries. It’s why she gives all her love away and never keeps any for herself.
“Don’t worry. The wolf isn’t as scary as he looks. He just takes more than his share.”
“What wolf? Do you mean Tyler?”
A small smile crosses your face, but you shake your head. “He has the heart but not the guile. The wolf is coming, but he’s not here yet. But don’t worry. You’ll be safe.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You never do.” She takes another step towards the girl, her hands coming up to thread her fingers through the dark curtain of brown that parts like silk. There’s a small moment of calm as the horror starts to fade, replaced by something that could be curiosity. You can feel the rabbit-patter of her heart against your chest, hear the thud-thud, thud-thud of it in your ears, and you know what you have to do.
“Is that why I become you?”
Again, you don’t answer the question. It’s easy to do when you don’t have an answer. Instead, your hand drifts down her neck, exposed with her hair pulled back, and her eyes follow the line.
“I always wondered if it would be sweet.”
Your other hand twists, wrapping the strands of hair around your fingers. Your fangs extend, and you yank her head back before digging in. The blood floods your mouth. It tastes like lost chances and regret, and there’s nothing about those things that are sweet.
Then all of that is ripped away as you’re slammed into the far wall. It takes you a moment to realize what’s happening, because there’s a shocking familiarity to it all. You look up and all you see is a sea of ice blue, familiar but not at the same time. They’ve never been angry with you—or, at least they haven’t in a long time.
It doesn’t change the fact that he knows. He lets you go almost as soon as he pins you, because he can see that you aren’t Katherine. You never were.
“What the hell?”
You don’t move. You should have known he’d be there. He was always there, always protecting you, and there’s no reason he shouldn’t be now. Only it’s not you he is protecting, not this time. Unfortunately, this time he won’t be able to win, and he can see that too.
“Elena, run!”
The girl does as she’s told, taking off for the far door, and your eyes drift back to him with a resigned sigh. “Rabbits never run fast enough.”
You take off after her, speeding to a stop in front of her, hand out. When Elena slams into you, the hand cuts through skin, muscle and bone until it closes around the thudding rabbit heart beating in her chest. The girl’s eyes look at you, full of confusion and betrayal, and all you can do is smile, though you know it isn’t comforting.
“Don’t worry,” you whisper, “you’re safe now.”
Then you tear the heart from her chest.
Her body drops to the ground, and there’s some kind of sound from Damon, something between grief and disbelief. The heart stays in your hand for a moment, before your wrist goes limp and it drops to the ground with a plop!
“It was too heavy for her.”
The sound from Damon turns from grief to rage, and there’s a blur as he charges you. The door splinters behind you and you land, hard on the porch, him on top of you.
“Why did you do that? She’s you, why would you—”
You cut him off with a kiss. It’s been so long since you’ve kissed him and it’s like oxygen is being forced back into your lungs again. You feel like the girl you just killed, giddy and hopeful, but you know that it won’t last.
Because the girl you killed is you, and you simply don’t have the time.
Still, he breaks the kiss first. He doesn’t understand, you can see that much, but you can feel death clawing at your feet and you don’t have the time. You want to be that girl again, but you can’t. They took away your rabbit heart and tried to give you claws and wings instead.
In the absence of Damon above you, your eyes are drawn to the body is still lying on the floor. You can’t help but stare at it for a moment, as the gravity of it all settles over you, crushing you almost as though someone had dropped a car. Your eyes prickle, but you won’t get the chance to cry.
“Poor little rabbit girl.” You turn back to him, as though he’s the one who has all the answers, even though you know he doesn’t. You’re also not talking about Elena anymore, but that he probably knows. “Why did they try to make her fly?”
1660 words