imp3ratrix: (A rising world of waters dark and deep)
[personal profile] imp3ratrix

Title: In my mind’s eye, Horatio
Category: The Vampire Diaries
Pairing/Character(s): Elijah/Elena
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.

Word Count: 2,615
Spoilers: Yes

Summary: Forbidden paradise resides in a small crevice where truth collides and festers.

Notes: A Vampire Dairies fic, at last. All I have to say is: this pairing, I ship it like it’s my job.

 

 

“Are you negotiating with me?”

There is a melody rising in his voice, amused and astounded, and not him at all. At all.

Elijah can’t remember the last time a human – lowly slip of a girl – dared to openly challenge him. The very notion is unthinkable, unheard of. Antithetical–

to everything he’s ever known.

And he can’t help but be intrigued, a shadow stringing around his lips. A smile. Genuine. His.

Interesting.

Amidst quiet contemplation the surprise is gone, for a moment, but cloud nine speeds by far too quick and rough to be appreciated. The sight of a necklace dangling (taunting him) from her lovely neck forces his mind to prioritise as he rips it from its place, another hand digging into loose strands of russet hair.

He pulls, hard.

Her yelp of surprise leaves him gruesomely euphoric with glowing indifference.

 

. . .

 

The sum of a thousand lives is a fickle opulence.

Endless and tedious, the day-to-day task of simply being demands purpose. Elijah – Original, immortal not-immortal – knows this, and through eagerly devoured reads and countless ordeals, he gains copious wisdom and scores of insight for the universe.

So calls himself clever, is astute, yet nothing can prepare him for the emerging battle bottled stonily within. Locked and keyed under blood, muscle and skin.

Madness, enlightenment, he has no name for it (dares not consider it anything else).

And like the sound of his own casket snapping down shut, the plunge into some netherworld of irrationality and doubt, he’s suddenly on high and restless and wanting.

Something.

 

. . .

 

“I want the girl, on the count of three, or heads will roll.”

Elijah hates being challenged. 

 

. . .

 

A game, the girl silently proposes.

And he smiles, thinking she’s lost her wits. Clouded and veiled beneath a layer of deadly hubris – only there are no Gods to strike her and them (two boys, tall and taller, thin and thinner, identical in their blind, hollow simplicity) down today.

So she honours him with the first move.

The vervain comes flying, hits him square in the face. The heat is churning, burning into a fierce, ground-up ball of annoyance and amusement in his core as the scars slowly, surely fade away. Her surprise is short lived, and he licks his lips at the look of horror registering on her face.

As she’s left all alone and frantic and anxious, and desperately seeking some way out.

That comes tumbling down the stairs, a proverbial knight in shining armour, stake after stake and his patience is wearing thin.

Deciding to end this little foray, he prepares to sever the boy’s head–

only to find his own makeshift weapon straining tight against tenderised skin and cracking ribs.

Elijah dies with grace.

He laughs in his mind even as his corpse is nailed to the door.

 

. . .

 

He never can get used to experiencing death on a rewind cycle.

Then again, he’s been dead for a while now.

 

. . .

 

Wry and humorously dry, he deliberates over the present with little thought for yesterday. There is no need to exercise in cases of futility. The game – that is how she likes to play – has only just begun, and as un-dead host, he has the advantage.

Elijah chuckles at that; harsh, unrelenting like frost in a snow-filled storm because he knows (the future better than anyone else). And knows that however feared he may be, Klaus remains the more menacing danger to all.

Alliance is the natural transition in any such case, and the enemy of an enemy makes for an interesting bedfellow.

 

. . .

 

“Hey, I’m Elijah.”

He appears before her with rabid purpose, his words so quick and sudden he knows he’s caught her unawares. And like a prophesy ringing true, Elena jumps at the sight of him, eyes wide, mouth agape with a heavy case of sudden aphasia. Expecting and bracing for a reactive, apocalyptic chain of events.

She has little to challenge him with this time round, and maintains a weary guard, if only for her aunt. Knowing full well he is dangerous and ruinous, able to see plain and lucid her every move.

Luckily for her he is there on more peaceful terms.

“It’s a pleasure,” he relays, leisurely closing the distance.

Elena takes his offered hand, her palm slick with fear and sweat against his own. Paying no heed he shakes it anyway, as any gentleman would.

It’s only proper; he never did get to formally introduce himself.

 

. . .

 

Elena is an audacious one.

As soon as the door has closed behind his back she is making a mad, fruitless dash up the stairs. As if that will ‘save’ her. As if that will make a difference. But of course she’s that kind of girl – would be – relentless yet naïve in the face of danger.

Elijah finds her endearing because of it; all the more lovely when stripped of security.

Naturally, he is always two steps ahead.

 

. . .

 

His hand closes around hers like a vise, the pulse there racing and threatening to implode.

Thump, thump, thump. STOP.

A moment’s pause follows amidst a quiet storm, every aspect of her wonderful, intoxicating mortality exposed and Elena turns to look at him with imploring eyes and a dripping heart – pitter-patter red on the floor. He suspects she wants to shout and cry and raise the entire town (the brother defenders) to her aid. But he puts a finger to his lips and she appropriately swallows the hasty words on the tip of her tongue.

“What do you want?” she asks instead.

“I think it’s about time you and I have a chat.”

She lifts her head, surprised.

And through reconciled words, careful truths and cautious looks, Elijah and Elena sign a truce.

 

. . .

 

“I need you to do one more thing for me.”

Elena’s request is blunt, to the point. A measure of expectation breaking through the barrier of apparent daring. She hangs onto it, this sign of hope (that all will be alright, that all will be safe) and uses his terms against him (needs her as he does, well and present for the final mêlée).

Elijah raises an aristocratic brow, thinking she is fishing in thin air.

“We’re negotiating now?”

She does not waver, merely tilts her head just a little, a rocking boat set out to conquer roaring tides.

And so he humours her; swears a measly promise and gains her trust in the process. Just like that.

Just like that.

 

. . .

 

At dusk – if not daily then at least weekly, it had become a hardened ceremony – he checks in on her. So as to make sure his investment is secure, that she is not waist-deep in some sort of trouble (terrible habit, really).

Or so he says and tells himself, hallucinating the compelling lie to be dictation.

Day after day, visit after visit, he finds himself gazing at her longer and longer, mere observation teetering upon fixation. And wrestles mind (reason, clarity) with a tight, coiling, gnawing at the pit of his stomach (carnal, irrational).

Too often reason prevails, anything and everything else crushed into non-existence and non-concern. But in this game, despite his assertions and practical, precarious intentions, he is still left to wonder and ponder over desultory languish and entropic anguish–

all in abundance in happily ever never-never-land.

And one evening, Elena dares to voice personal suspicions, throwing him back into the deep end of illusions and impiety.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Just… coming to terms with something.”

He spies a slight shiver as she nods and turns away.

The grin that spreads across his face is positively ravenous.

 

. . .

 

They begin a dance of sorts.

A look here, a frown there. He is relentless and she is rebellious. Her actions, every glance and every word that demand she not yield, are like blisters forming in neat patterns over his skin. Creeping through cells and dispersing into the bloodstream. A sickened intravenous.

The poison is in the blood.

Elijah knows he should leave her be – he is practical and logical, and Elena is not Katerina – but despite all reason he decides to give resignation a chance to ferment. Curious to see where it all ends (and to hell with another of his not-nine lives).

From the septic decay of muddy mire, comes the sweetest of fruits. But harvest season is also slaughter season, and before he knows it he’s already biting down on Eve’s accursed apple.

Having worked through whisker-soft caresses and longer, brazen glances, all doubts are rendered obsolete.

As he pictures her stretched taut beneath him, desires at last set free of façades. Forbidden paradise resides in a small crevice where truth collides and festers, after all.

It’s a hell he’d voluntarily visit.

 

. . .

 

Social gatherings are always a tedious affair, and Mystic Falls seems to have its endless share of weekly monotony. In celebrating past accomplishments and founding families and local traditions and… he loses track.

But Elijah is a patient man and knows all too well the time honoured adage of good things coming to those who wait. And soon enough, amidst the twirling, faceless couples he spies with his little eye the lovely Elena herself, donned in chiffon and taffeta and left, best of all, utterly alone.

Suddenly, the atmosphere transforms. It becomes pleasant, becomes endurable. And so Elijah dismisses his nonchalant barriers and polite verbal responses to offer his hand to a lady – the lady – at last.

“Would you honour me with this dance?”

A bite of the lip, a glance left and right (there are no Salvatores to be found) and she places her hand, warily, in his.

Triumphant, he takes her around the waist and pulls her into the waltz with utter finesse. Sets his gaze and observes her obvious suffering – she tries so hard to stifle her displeasure. She is edgy and rigid, spine completely straight, unnatural, and her eyes emanate pure terror.

If anything, she looks disturbed and beautiful and–

“I want to thank you, for helping my friends.”

except, maybe, she isn’t.

“No need for gratitude, dear Elena. I am a man of my word.”

“Yes, you are,” she adds as an afterthought, as if this were new information in need of careful deliberation. The inference amuses him.

They continue to move in unison, never falling astray or missing a step or a beat. He stares right at her, irises lustrous and cunning (dipped brown amber into black tar), pupils dilated and manic (widened to capture light like celestial black holes). Elijah keeps on smiling, reinvents himself for a mar-ve-lous performance to further crack the ice.

“I pray you won’t hold this against me, but you are looking incredibly enchanting this evening, Elena.”

She blushes. Crimson and virulent, the harsh shade spreads across her face like a far-reaching, hysterical plague. And before she can gather her wits, fortify her walls once more, he goes in for the kill.

Elijah twirls her around, dips her low.

The audience gasps and claps (idiots), thinking the sight is so charming, so wonderful, so endearing they could just die. When he leans down to kiss her, he makes sure each one of her friends (now resurfaced) has a front-row view. First-class, first-rate, just for them.

Elena is paralysed from surprise (doesn’t resist).

The music fades and she eagerly departs, shaken to the core.

Pleased, he ignores the murderous glares burning holes into his back, content enough to gaze after a fleeting trail of dark flowing hair.

He licks his lips and tastes her still.

 

. . .

 

This is not a romance.

That is what he tells himself as he shoves her against a wall, her skull making a dull thud upon impact as she bites down hard on a grunt. Eyes glassy and lifeless, she remains lax and lovely in his arms. Ready and willing: the hapless kill.

Elijah can only sigh, encircling her wrists – delicate, fragile little things bound to break, bound to fade. And kisses her, knowing it isn’t quite right and not at all what he wants–

merely a dream, maddening and sardonic and surrealistic. Playing its natural course in his mind, detached from a world to make his own–

he parts her lips.

Elijah cannot help himself.

“Your name is Elena,” he whispers, eyes boring into hers, iridescent like opals in the moonlight.

And the compulsion weaves its spell, takes effect. The pale imitation before him transforming into something beyond soft alabaster and swirling brunette angst. It is measly consolation, but consolation all the same as his mouth marks its path down, down to her throat.

She murmurs, she squirms.

His head spins, barely escaping the dissolution of vertigo as he gorges on crimson delight turning venom on his tongue.

The illusion shatters, a perfectly distilled dystopia left in its place.

 

. . . 

 

There is a pool of blood around his arms.

It is not his.

 

. . .

 

He sees the future and the past reflected in everything, realises the world he knows is slowly crumbling (giving way to unfulfilled insanity). And yet in the world between worlds, deep in the throes of imagination, anything is possible.

There is no time, no air, no illusory differences, and no existence. He can have and do anything he wants – enchant coal to gold, play the hero and save the girl.

And drown in her scent, lips and teeth breaking skin across the length of her naked back.

But to merge truth and lies, the real and the fake, therein lies the rub.

Fortunately he’s a devil without a heart (and Faustian pacts are his specialty).

 

. . .

 

When beauty dies, there is no one there to witness it. Its glorious death. Its tragic death. Or, perhaps, a death that is obscure and wasteful.

And something that will not matter after a few minutes past.

But Elena is beautiful nearing the day of her death. In that modest, melancholic way of hers. Like the light has been filtered out, and she is a jewel shining (ironically). Shining black and sombre.

Elijah finds himself turning nostalgic.

“Do you regret… sacrificing yourself so easily? Securing your demise. Just like that.”

Just like that, a bite to the neck or a dagger to the heart, scarlet trickling down over crystal skin and arteries.

“No. Not if it means my friends and family will be safe.”

“I admire your selflessness. Others, however, would deem it foolishness.”

“Well, there’s nothing much I can do about it now. A deal is a deal.”

“Indeed. Yet I cannot help but wonder, if there isn’t a way to lessen your plight.”

Elena turns to look at him, to really look at him, wondering whether she dares consider his words sincere or unnecessarily cruel. There is time still, if only for a little while. Time to contemplate, to remember all that is lost and about to be–

lost. In transition, in translation. Elijah is not a man to waste words, after all.

So she turns hopeful, swallows bewilderment. Though vigilant, she narrows her eyes and varnishes suspicions to shine.

“What’s your price?”

“My price?” It’s his turn to play surprised.

“Everyone wants something. You want something.”

Elijah chuckles quietly, eerily, lets his hand travel to her reddening cheek. Foresees a beautiful unfolding; a parody of lions and lambs. For he has become obsessed with taking her apart, piece by piece, until one of them breaks.

And so, he puts to use his wits and vaulted knowledge. Rethinks the means and the ends as they continue with their dance, push and tug, her continued daring rolling over him like liquid fire.

“Are we negotiating then?”

Elena stands firm, defiant (a smile on her face).

“Always.”

 

Fin.

Date: 2011-02-13 10:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] simply-aly.livejournal.com
I absolutely adore this pairing and this story. Your writing for Elijah is simply perfect--it's so easy to see that he is an Original (and therefore really old)--and the mystery of him is captured so beautifully here.

I just...I am in love.

Date: 2011-02-13 11:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Thank you! I'm so glad you liked it.

I was a little worried as to how Elijah's character would come across, given how complex he seems, so I'm glad to hear I did him justice.

Date: 2011-02-13 11:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] guinny-hamilton.livejournal.com
Holy crap.

Absolutely loving this.

Date: 2011-02-13 12:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Thank you! So glad you enjoyed it.

Date: 2011-02-13 01:31 pm (UTC)
sandrine: (Elena/Elijah)
From: [personal profile] sandrine
*flails* That was awesome! I positively adore the ending.

Date: 2011-02-13 11:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Thank you. And I absolutely LOVE your icon!

Date: 2011-02-13 04:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] damon-s-86.livejournal.com
I love this. I really do. your storytelling is flawless.

Date: 2011-02-13 11:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Thank you! I'm happy to hear you liked it.

Date: 2011-02-14 11:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] damon-s-86.livejournal.com
of course I liked it.. More? pretty please?

Date: 2011-02-14 12:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Aw. I've got an outline for something a little longer and more mature in mind, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to begin working on it as I've got several other fandom commitments to get through.

But, I do suppose I could try and dish out a drabble or a short one-shot in the meantime. Did you have anything particular in mind? My muse is awfully slow these days~

Date: 2011-02-14 01:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] damon-s-86.livejournal.com
tons of ideas. I'd love to see how he goes from cold indifference to slight interest to full blown love. Or rather, how about he snaps one night and winds up at her door step to tell her his story. The reason for the snapping could be a heart breaking anniversary.
He'll be cold and detached as he explains but she just gets it. She could hug him in true Elena fashion or simply hold his hand.
I keep thinking that Elijah is on a death mission and he knows for a fact he won't survive it.

Date: 2011-02-15 03:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Ooh, thanks for those! I've actually got something similar planned for my other fic where going from indifference to love, and Elijah succumbing to an unconscious death wish are concerned.

You've definitely given me something to think about, so thank you again!

Date: 2011-02-15 07:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] damon-s-86.livejournal.com
anytime. Write more when you can.

Date: 2011-02-13 11:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sleepysandy.livejournal.com
I just came across this lil fic, and 'Thank You!' I love my E/E. There is something about them I really find appealing. Some magnetic attraction that neither want to really admit, but its sitting right below the surface.

I hope you write more Elena/Elijah there really isn't enough fic about them. I'm usually a D/E'er at heart, but Elijah is just such an awesome creation of characterization. So much hidden away just waiting to get chipped away at, and I feel only Elena would be able to bring down those barriers within him. :D

Thanks again, great job!!

Date: 2011-02-14 01:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Thank you! There definitely isn't enough Elijah/Elena out there. I will try and remedy that with another fic in the hopefully not so distant future.

Date: 2011-02-17 03:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] damon-s-86.livejournal.com
that's Tom Hardy isn't it? yup.. I knew it from his tattoo. I need to get myself checked.

Date: 2011-02-18 01:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Haha, good eye. Indeed it is Mr Hardy. :P

Date: 2011-02-15 07:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] damon-s-86.livejournal.com
I love your icon! there I said it :D

Date: 2011-02-16 10:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sleepysandy.livejournal.com
Oh, thank you! :D *evil grin* Love him. Hehehe.

Date: 2011-02-17 03:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] damon-s-86.livejournal.com
hahahahahaha no wonder Danno was nominated for a Golden Globe.

Date: 2011-03-03 10:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lacrimadraconis.livejournal.com
So I finally got around to reading this, and I have to say it was very well worth the wait.

This pairing is so interesting because we only know so little about Elijah and his true intentions, which makes him a very hard character to write. But you captured his inner voice really well and his interactions with Elena were spot on. I loved the flow of this!

So they better bring him back on the show soon!

Date: 2011-03-05 03:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Aw, thank you for reading. You get a cookie!



It was really fun trying to get into Elijah's head and writing him from there. He's definitely intriguing, and the chemistry between Elena and him is so insanely hot (then again Nina has every man on that show on a leash, haha).

I will not settle for anything less! He will be back!

Date: 2011-03-21 07:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dusky-paw.livejournal.com
I love how otherworldly and utterly non-human Elijah is characterized by just a few sentences. You are very skilled at creating suspense and melancholic atmosphere without becoming too detached from the characters. Applause! I love it!
And I am very much looking forward to reading more of your work :-)

Date: 2011-03-22 01:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Thank you so much! Reviews like yours always bring a smile to my face.

Real life is demanding most of my attention at the moment, but I am very slowly getting through another Elijah/Elena fic.

Date: 2011-04-24 09:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] advo.livejournal.com
I love everything you write but it's especially appealing when it's what I ship, LOL. This was so good and I loved the ending... They do say the third time's the charm, right?

Date: 2011-04-25 02:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Aw, thank you! Words cannot relay how much I love this pairing. THE POTENTIAL. IT KILLS ME.

Date: 2011-04-25 11:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] advo.livejournal.com
THE POTENTIAL INDEED! When did you start shipping them? Tell me it was the sniffing that did it for you too? :P

Date: 2011-04-26 09:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Yes! If that wasn't an instant subconscious attraction, then I don't know what is. Now if only they would both realise it because the unresolved sexual tension is slowly driving me insane.

Date: 2011-04-26 11:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] advo.livejournal.com
There really is so much UST, it's crazy.

And I just adore how he's all Mr. Darcy-like polite with everyone even if he's about to rip your heart out or just smooth-talking not-anymore-clueless Jenna. And the Andie-twirl!

LOL, I could gush over Elijah forever, but I'll spare you and instead just ask what you think of Elijah/Kat? I bet you could write a really good fic about their twisted relationship, eh?

Date: 2011-05-12 02:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Argh, sorry for the late response to this. I was writing fic and completely forgot that I had not replied.

You'd think all these vampires would have good manners because they're so old and come from a period of time where manners and common courtesy were an absolute must amongst the upper echelons of society, but Elijah is truly in a league of his own. The rest of those boys could really learn a thing or two from him.

I was slightly annoyed that they implied he had feelings for Katherine. I like her, but I really wanted Elijah to be all about Elena, and not have the memory of Katherine in the back of his mind as is already, exhaustively, the case with the Salvatores. As for fic, I'm not too sure. I kind of like writing her with Klaus, because that pairing is all kinds of twisted and wrong. :P

Date: 2011-05-12 06:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] advo.livejournal.com
Tbh, I can't decide between Elijah/Elena or Elijah/Katerina. I think it's because human!Katerina was more like Elena and because I know EE won't ever happen since the whole show is built upon the SED triangle. With that said, I'm also intrigued by original Petrova whom I think Elijah loved. Not sure he was in love with Katerina, though it's obvious he did care for her.

Did you read this interview with Daniel Gillies? http://www.nypost.com/p/blogs/popwrap/daniel_gillies_JxNSz5XHv26Gfnm2v2QL8M

I simply adore the things he has to say about EE <3

Date: 2011-05-13 01:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
EE can happen. SED does not have to be the 'be all' and 'end all' of this show. Perceptions change, dynamics change and with all the positive fan and media buzz surrounding EE, I'm sure the writers just may be swayed. EE might not be endgame (at this point :P), but they could still be explored.

OMG that interview! WHAT IS AIR. I am seriously squee-ing right now!

Date: 2011-05-13 05:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] advo.livejournal.com
I dunno. I'm feeling pretty pessimistic about EE happening atm. Even with positive buzz for EE, the DE fanbase is just too big. And tbh, not sure they would do it justice.

Daniel was saying the most wonderful things about EE yesterday. I was on such a high. Then the actual episode happened. Grrr.

Date: 2011-11-09 07:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mydnight-dreams.livejournal.com
I liked this a lot! Dark almost twisted Elijah. Love!!

Date: 2011-11-12 02:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imp3ratrix.livejournal.com
Thank you! I wrote this during the holiday hiatus following their little negotiation scene in 2x11, and well, Elijah did seem a lot more darker a character then. ;)

Happy to hear you enjoyed it!

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