What's At Stake, Part One

DISCLAIMER:  This is a fanfic for The Vampire Diaries television show.  I haven't read the books and have no idea what's in them.  I don't own any of these characters, no money is changing hands, nothing to see here, people.

This first section of the story includes the Elijah scenes from episode 2-8, "Rose".  I've added the dialogue verbatim here; I don't plan to rehash scenes in subsequent sections of the story, but wanted to get into Elijah's mindset here in his debut.

Constructive criticism is always welcome.  Hope you enjoy it.
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                                                        WHAT'S AT STAKE

Elijah slid the cell phone back into his breast pocket and rose from the desk. Stepping across the rich Oriental carpet, he opened the French doors and walked out onto the balcony overlooking Central Park. At a quarter past 3:00 a.m., the traffic below the Manhattan penthouse had slowed to an anemic trickle, brake lights leaving the occasional crimson smear on rain-dampened streets that ran like veins through the city. Four floors below him, a television squawked out news on a 24-hour loop; seven floors down, the Wall Street trader rutted with his latest, silicone-enhanced mistress. Far below, under cover of the Park's foliage, a cry drifted up as one of the city's predators took its prey. It bothered him not – he was, after all, the city's apex predator.


So Rosemary and her craven partner wanted to meet, did they? He could imagine how the last five centuries had been for them. Never staying in any one place for long, never putting down roots or forming any lasting relationships for fear of the past they wanted desperately to outrun. The thought of them scrambling all over the globe, one eye always in the rearview mirror, amused him. Truth be told, he'd stopped caring one way or the other a couple of centuries ago. There were more pressing concerns to be dealt with than avenging himself on a couple of shiftless and scared-shitless minor vampires.

He had been sorely tempted to decline this request for a summit, save for one detail: its proposed location. A quick look on Google maps had shown the backwater locale to be just a few hours south of the town of Mystic Falls, one of the last known whereabouts of Katerina Petrova. If Trevor and Rosemary had suddenly found the fortitude to contact him, they must either have Katerina, or at the least some knowledge of her current location.

Elijah glanced down at his Rolex. If he left now, while the traffic was light, he could be in North Carolina by early afternoon. Pulling the phone from his pocket, he redialed his contact. "Tell them I'll be there tomorrow," he said, without preamble. Without waiting for a reply, he ended the call and dialed the concierge downstairs to have his car brought around.

*****

It was close to 2:00 p.m. when the Lexus crunched down the gravel driveway at the address he'd been given. The house, once a modest mansion, stood aged and decrepit in the harsh afternoon light. Several windows were boarded up; some from the outside, some from within, indicating to Elijah the rooms most likely inhabited by the two sun-fearing vampires. He rubbed absently at the ring on his left hand that rendered such issues moot for him. Only one vehicle, an older SUV, sat in the driveway alongside his Lexus. Scanning the perimeter, Elijah noted no disturbance in the dust and the overgrowth around the property which might indicate that an ambush was imminent. He highly doubted any other vampire would put him or herself in league with these two, not against him.

Elijah exited the vehicle and climbed the front steps with an air of complete nonchalance. At his knock, he could hear them scurrying around inside like the rats that inhabited other parts of the old building. Appropriate that they sheltered here amongst the other vermin. Though perhaps he was being uncharitable toward the girl. She had only done as her sire had bid her, after all.

As Trevor should have done his bidding.

Rather than wait, Elijah pushed the door open and surveyed the scene before him. The vestibule displayed the same signs of age and decay as the exterior of the house. Mold and mildew clung to the ceiling and crept down the walls. Dust moved in lazy swirls, disturbed by the opening of the door and the rush of warm air from the outside. Several lights were lit, though some of the fixtures hung from the walls at drunken angles; one chandelier cast its light from the floor rather than the ceiling, leaning as though dazed and confused as to how it should have come to be there.

After a few moments, Rosemary crept into view. Her hair and clothes were trendy, inexpensive and informal, in sharp contrast to his $4,000 black-on-black suit, just as her nervous, fidgety energy differed wildly from his calm, calculated manner.

Elijah spoke first. "Rosemary. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

She sighed, but didn't relax. "Yes, in here. You'll have to forgive the house," she said, gesturing to a room on the left.

He allowed a patronizing smile. "Oh no, what's a little dirt? I completely understand." Elijah closed the door behind him to once again shut out the sunlight, and strolled into the room she had indicated. "So tell me, what is it that gives you the courage to call me?"

"I want my freedom. I'm tired of running. Are you in a position to grant me that?"

"I have complete authority to grant pardon to you and your little pet. What is his name these days, Trevor? If I so see fit." Pardon her for himself, anyway. They were on their own with Klaus. But he needn't tell her that.

"Katerina Petrova?"

Elijah smiled inwardly. Just as he had suspected. He turned to face her. "I'm listening."

"She didn't burn in the church in 1864." Rose announced this as though it were some great news.

Spotting a serviceable if dusty chair, Elijah sat and crossed his legs with an attitude of bored indulgence. "Continue."

"She survived."

He waited for more, but she seemed disinclined to speak without prompting. "Where is she?"

"You don't seem surprised by this," Rose said, looking down at him.

Apparently he needed to state the obvious. "When you called and invited me into this armpit of civilization, which is a mere three hours from the town we know as Mystic Falls, I surmised it had everything to do with Katerina. Do you have her in your possession?" he asked, as though he cared not what the answer was.

"No. I have better. I have a doppelganger," she announced.

Lovely, he scoffed to himself. A wild goose chase after all. "That's impossible. Her family line ended with her. I know that for a fact."

"Then the facts are wrong." She was looking less frightened and more triumphant. That wouldn't do.

"Well show her to me," he challenged.

"Elijah, you're a man of honor. You can be trusted, but I want to hear you say it again."

Elijah narrowed his eyes at her. "You have my word that I will pardon you." And how nice that English doesn't differentiate between the singular and plural.

"Follow me." Rose turned and walked out of the room.

Elijah waited a beat and then rose to follow her. Surely they weren't stupid enough to lure him in with this tale and then try to kill him. It would be tantamount to suicide. Down the corridor, past the fallen chandelier, up some stairs... Rose halted on a balcony to the great room. Looking down, he noted Trevor standing rigid on the periphery, but his attention went immediately to the girl.

My God, he thought. This can't be. He sped down the stairs and halted in front of her. That same face, those same dark eyes looked up at him, terror plain in them and in the rigid lines of her body. Her heart was beating so hard he half expected it to take wing and fly out of her chest altogether. Lowering his head, he scented her breath, smelled the blood hammering frantically just under her skin, and rocked back, inwardly reeling. "Human," he breathed. "It's impossible."

Elijah gazed down at her again, at the face that had last been worn by Katerina Petrova. But though the features were the same, what lurked beneath felt different. This girl was clearly petrified. With Katerina, even when she was terrified of him – and she had been terrified – there had been a cold calculation just under the surface, a constant cold weighing of the pros here and the cons there. He smiled, and his voice was softly nostalgic. "Hello there."

He'd uttered those same words to Katerina, when he'd caught up to her the first time she had run.

*****

The small tavern in the north of England was a-bustle with the recent influx of soldiers. Unrest amongst the region's peasants and noblemen alike had brought a number of the King's troops to the vicinity. They were garrisoned nearby, ostensibly to keep the peace. But after weeks on end with no actual fighting, the men were getting restless; soldiers not stimulated on the battlefield were bound to seek entertainment in the barrooms and brothels instead, and they had flocked to this place to stave off the boredom.

The smell of so many unwashed bodies in such close proximity to one another, combined with the scents of roasting meats and the pervasive acridity of smoke from the fireplace, made it well nigh impossible to ferret out any one single scent from the cacophony of odors. Fortunately, Elijah had tracked his quarry here two days ago and had merely been waiting for the rest of the party to catch up to him. Katerina Petrova had led a merry chase since she'd fled Klaus's estate under cover of the midday sun. She'd timed it perfectly, he'd give her that. Only a very few of Klaus's inner circle had been gifted with rings that allowed them to walk in daylight; even had the guards suspected that Katerina was hidden beneath the goods in the vendor's cart, most would have been unequipped to remove her from the wagon where it sat in the sun-drenched courtyard.

As it was, her disappearance had gone unremarked until the next morning, giving the woman almost a full day's head start. Rather than wait for nightfall, Elijah had set out at Klaus's behest in advance of the search party to return his errant concubine/sacrificial lamb to him. Once he'd tracked her to this tavern, he'd hidden in wait. Now that the rest of the men had arrived, he was ready to go in and retrieve her.

After positioning his men at the exits and windows, Elijah pushed his way through the crowd toward the kitchens, one sharp glance enough to discourage any who might have barred his way. He ignored the clucking of the innkeeper's wife where she stood at the big oven and pushed the door to the back room open.

She was in there. He could smell her just fine now. Nowhere to be seen, but he had no doubt that she was hidden behind one of the sacks of grain or barrels of mead stacked around the room. Fear carried with it its own scent, and he inhaled deeply of its pungent sweetness. Ah. There, in a little nook behind that crate of potatoes. Quiet as the grave, he crossed the room and, reaching into the crevice, grabbed a handful of her hair.

Katerina yelped as he pulled her from her hiding spot to stand before him. The days of flight and her service in the scullery had not been kind to her. The serving wench's clothes she wore were dirty and ill-fitting; Elijah had grown accustomed to seeing her in the gowns and jewels Klaus lavished upon her, and though she was still beautiful, its effects were somewhat diminished by her present circumstances. Her eyes, smudged dark underneath, widened in fear when she saw who held her.

"Hello there," he purred, as though they met as dancers on the ballroom floor and not as captor and captive in a dingy storeroom.

"Please, I beg of you, do not take me back to him!" Dark eyes beseeched him, tears welling and threatening to spill over. "Let me go, please. Have mercy!"

"And tell Klaus that I was unsuccessful in locating you? I think not. Come." He pushed her in front of him, toward the door.

Katerina dug her heels into the dirt floor and threw her weight back against him. "No! Please! I'll offer anything you want, just don't take me back to Klaus."

Amused, Elijah slowed his progress toward the door, considering. "And just what, pray tell, do you think you can offer? You have nothing with which to bargain."

She turned and faced him, and through her tears he saw the quick calculation behind those dark eyes. "I know where Klaus keeps the moonstone. I can tell you where it is."

"Why would I need the moonstone? It is Klaus who will undo the curse, to all of our benefit. I needn't know its whereabouts. And without a doppelganger, it would be rather useless, after all." Elijah took a firm hold on her arm and turned her once more toward the door.

Once more she dug her heels in. "If you knew, you could take it. You could prevent him from breaking the curse."

He halted his progess again. "And why would I wish to do that?"

Katerina twisted back around. "What need have you to break it? You already walk in the sunlight, as so few of your kind can." She tilted her head and met his eyes with a sidelong gaze. "It gives you power over the others. Makes you almost a god amongst them. Why should you wish to surrender such an advantage? If you allow Klaus to break the curse, imagine the adulation he'll garner. The chasm between his power base and that of the other Originals will widen so that it may never be breached."

Elijah allowed no reaction to show, but damn if she didn't strike straight to the heart of a weakness. "You make it sound as though we don't all share the same purpose."

"I've watched you, Elijah. You serve Klaus, but you are not subservient to him." Gaining confidence as she spoke, she lay her hands on his forearms, leaned into him conspiratorially. "It chafes, doesn't it? Watching them all jump to do his bidding?"

"He is the first among us, and the most powerful. There is a reason so many owe their allegiance to him."

"Because they are offered no viable alternative. You could be that alternative. They could serve you." Her face took on the coquettishness she'd employed to such good effect at Klaus's court. She trailed her fingers up his arms, across his shoulders, down his chest. "Taking me from Klaus would be a great coup for you, Elijah." Katerina draped herself against him, face tilted up invitingly, her meaning perfectly clear. "So take me."

Elijah regarded her for the space of a few heartbeats, then laughed deeply, genuinely amused. He'd been wondering when she'd get around to the predictable. "Katerina, you overplay your hand. Klaus's position is well secured, and your whore's charms move me not at all." He gripped her arm and, turning her roughly, propelled her inexorably toward the door. "It has been centuries since I could be led about by my cock."

There would have been no further incident, save for one fatal error on his part: When they stopped to shelter just before dawn, Elijah made the mistake of leaving Katerina in the care of a man who could be so led.

*****

Elijah looked away from the girl and eyed that man, standing now before him. "We have a long journey ahead of us," he told her. "We should be going."

The girl struggled against the grip he had on her arm. She called over his shoulder, to Rose, "Please, don't let him take me!"

"One last piece of business. Then we're done." Elijah loosed his hold on the girl's arm and turned toward Trevor.

Trevor stood rigid, eyes downcast. "I've waited so long for this day, Elijah. I'm truly very sorry."

"Oh no, your apology's not necessary," he demured, stalking in a slow circle around the younger vampire.

"Yes. Yes it is. You trusted me with Katerina, and I failed you."

"Well yes, you are the guilty one." Elijah came full circle and stood facing Trevor. "Rose aided you because she was loyal to you. That I honor." Dropping the pretense of civility, he lowered his voice and gave Trevor a hard stare. "Where was your loyalty?"

"I beg your forgiveness," Trevor entreated him, eyes still glued to the floor.

Elijah nodded almost imperceptibly. "So granted." He let a brief moment pass, let a brief flare of hope light the younger man's eyes. On the next beat, he drew back his hand and slapped Trevor's head off, sending a geyser of blood shooting into the air.

Rose screamed as the body crumpled to the floor, the head rolling a few feet away from it. "You! – " she began.

"Don't, Rose, now that you're free," he advised. Leaving her sobbing on the stairs, he wiped Trevor's blood on his pant leg and extended it to the girl. "Come."

She backed away from him, eyes a little wild. "What about the moonstone?" she gulped out.

"What do you know about the moonstone?"

"I know that you need it, and I know where it is."

"Yes?" he prompted.

"I can help you get it," she offered.

Elijah raised an eyebrow at the girl, wondering if she truly knew anything or if this was all some tactic to stall for time. "Tell me where it is."

The girl shook her head. "It doesn't work that way."

He blinked a couple of times in disbelief. The sense of deja vue was overwhelming. Was this... this slip of a girl really trying to bargain with him? Perhaps his first impression of her had been in error. He'd thought her weaker than Katerina, but perhaps some of that Petrova fire burned in her after all. "Are you negotiating with me?" he asked, shooting an incredulous look over at Rose.

"It's the first I've heard of it," Rose answered.

He turned back to the girl and caught her eyes. Or tried to; he could feel her resisting him. His gaze drew down to her necklace. It was of the right size and shape, and a surreptitious sniff confirmed it. "What is this vervain doing around your neck?" he asked, the question rhetorical. Grabbing the pendant, he snapped the chain and tossed it away from her. He wrapped his fingers in her hair, as he'd done to Katerina all those years ago, and this time he captured her eyes with his. "Tell me where the moonstone is."

She submitted readily. "In the tomb underneath the church."

"What is it doing there?" he asked.

"It's with Katherine."

"Interesting," was all he said aloud, but inside his mind was reeling. My god! Not only a living, human doppelganger, but Katerina AND the moonstone as well. And to think, he hadn't even wanted to make the trip. His mind started considering the myriad possibilities this sudden embarrassment of riches opened up to him, only to be brought back to the present by the breaking of glass.

"What is that?" he asked, releasing the girl's gaze as he looked around.

"I don't know," Rose said, fearful.

"Who else is in this house?"

"I don't know!"

Grabbing the girl by the arm, he ordered her, "Move!" and headed to the stairs as a blurry form zipped past him. He shoved the girl toward Rose when a second form shot by. "Rose?"

Rose's voice showed the first ragged edges of panic. "I don't know who it is."

A voice drifted down from upstairs. "Up here."

Elijah flew up the stairs, only to hear a second voice call, "Down here." He turned toward it. Instinct alerted him to the whizzing sound of a projectile and he turned so that the stake, when it came, went through his left hand.

He pulled it out and tossed it down over the banister. "Excuse me. To whom it may concern," he called out, "you're making a grave mistake if you think that you can beat me. You can't. Do you hear that?" Seizing a nearby coat rack, he broke it off of its base. "I repeat, you cannot beat me." Snapping the hooks off of the rack, he continued, "I want the girl, on the count of three, or heads will roll." Had he not just amply demonstrated his ability to make that happen? Elijah broke the post again for a sharper point. "Do we understand each other?"

The girl, who had disappeared from site while he was trying to trace his quarry, appeared on the landing, arms crossed in front of her in a defensive posture. "I'll come with you. Just... please don't hurt my friends. They just wanted to help me out."

Elijah started up the stairs again, stopping halfway to consider the girl before him. Acquaintance with her forebear had taught him nothing if not caution. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What game are you playing with me?"

He saw her pull something out of one hand, and she loosed a projectile of some sort that shattered before it could impact him. Shards of glass and a spray of vervain hit his face full-on. He yelled as it seared his eyes and flesh, but the pain was fleeting as the wounds healed almost as soon as they appeared. Gritting his teeth, he advanced on her.

A shotgun sounded above him and a wooden bullet pierced his chest, the first in a hail of them. Grimly, he continued to advance even as the young man shot seven more bullets into him. With the gun empty, he launched himself at Elijah, sending them both hurtling down the stairs. Elijah was upright again almost immediately. Curling his fingers into a claw, he advanced with every intention of ripping the kid's heart from his body. In so doing, he left himself open.

His makeshift stake, discarded when the vervain hit him, pierced his heart as a second vampire went in for the kill. He stared, lust for the kill plain on his face, as he drove Elijah back against the door and pinned him there.

As his vision faded, he made it a point to memorize the face of the vampire who had killed him.