An Eternity (TVD- Elijah Mikaelson story)

Aftermath

              The seven people clad in black stand around the graves. Elena, Jeremy, Bonnie, Stefan, Damon, Alaric, and a blond named Caroline all look sadly down at the headstones. I watch silently from afar, leaning against a tree with my arms crossed over my chest and a white rose in my hand. Elena kneels down and places a red rose on the grave in front of her. Her eyes are swimming as she moves onto the next one. Her lips curve up just the slightest bit in a sad smile as she lays the last two delicate flowers on the ground. Behind her, her friends and brother watch with grief-stricken faces and sorrowful eyes. A tear streaks down Elena’s cheek as she stands.

             Alaric, who’s been standing still for a long time, finally steps forward and places a rose of his own next to Elena’s on the first grave. His eyes look longingly down at the headstone before he turns and walks slowly away. Elena stands there for a moment, trying to gather her emotions and put herself back together. Then, with a loud sniff, she follows as the others begin to leave. Damon stands near a rusted gate, not bothering to go. Stefan walks over to his brother and starts to say something to him, but I do not listen. I walk down the path and over the old bridge towards Elena, Jeremy, Bonnie, and Caroline.

            Bonnie is the first to see me and she stops, staring at me with sad, confused eyes. Jeremy looks over at her and follows her gaze. His brown eyes widen when they meet mine. Caroline glances up to see what her friends are gawking at and Elena’s glossy gaze finds me. I walk slowly over, my black dress flowing in the soft breeze. The ground is hard-packed underneath my heels, a soft thump with each step.

             “Elizabeth,” Bonnie says in a small voice.

             I smile kindly at them all. “Hello.” I gaze at Elena, studying her. She looks exactly like Katherine, but her eyes are softer, kinder. I hold out the white rose to her. “I am so sorry for the ones you lost. In my countless lifetimes, I have watched many that I have cared about pass on, so I have great sympathy for you,” I say to her. Elena looks down at the rose and then up at me. Her hand reaches out tentatively and wraps around the thorn-less stem. Another tear drips from her chin as she nods.

              “Thank you,” she whispers in a broken voice. She presses the flower close to her heart, the white petals bending against her chest. I can hear her heartbeat and how it pounds loudly. It’s rhythmic beating is so familiar.

               I let out a slow breath and look at each of them in turn. “Goodbye for now,” is all I say. And then I am gone again.

Elijah’s POV-

               The sun lazes into the sky as I make my way through the woods, following the trail of blood my brother left behind. Up ahead, almost hidden behind thick green foliage is Niklaus, lying on his side, his bare back facing me. I grip his clothes tightly in my hands and lean against a tree, waiting patiently for him to arouse. My mind begins to wander and I can’t help but start to think about what the young Bennett witch had said about meeting Elizabeth. It just cannot be true. Elizabeth had to have died centuries ago. There is just no possible way she could be alive today…unless…

               I shake my head, putting it in the back of my mind. With a sigh, I dig into my pocket and pull out a withered, pressed red rose. The dried petals crack and flake off as my fingers lightly caress them. As I peer down at the ancient flower, I think about the night this rose bloomed.

             

              The night is dark, shadows filling every available space. The moonlight shimmers down in patches through the leaves above. My hand grips Elizabeth’s as we race away from the castle, trampling through the forest. Behind me, she stumbles and I catch her before she falls. As I bring her close to me, I can smell the overwhelming scent of blood coming off her. Pulling away, I examine her wounds. The gash above her brow has split open again and crimson flows into her eye. She wipes it away, but it persists. Slashes on her arms and legs are drooling with blood and her battered feet have left behind a trail of red. I turn my gaze to her.