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Chapter Text

Elena knew she'd face repercussions for this later, but the thrill was worth it.

She admired the cut of the dress in the mirror, appreciating how it hugged her figure and accentuated her curves.

It was the kind of dress she'd wear for a special occasion, like Caroline's upcoming birthday party.

As she marveled at herself, Elijah entered the room, clearly agitated on the phone.

Elena couldn't help but smirk as she noticed his frustration, evident from the language he spat out in a mix of English and his native tongue.

His eyes flickered towards her reflection, his demeanor shifting as he took in her attire.

Ending his call abruptly, he approached her, turning her to face him.

"What's this?" he asked softly, his tone betraying a mixture of amusement and concern.

"Do you like it?" Elena teased, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes.

There was a flicker of something in Elijah's gaze. "Tell me you didn’t wear that outside."

Elena's smirk widened. "Oh, I most certainly did. Gave the neighborhood quite the show. I believe a few teenagers are still recovering from the sight." She signed to add more effect "poor kids"

His eyes flashed momentarily. "You are not wearing that in public."

Elena raised an eyebrow. "So, you don't approve of my choice for Caroline's party?"

"You know I do," he replied, his fingers tracing the delicate lace of her dress. "I just prefer to keep you for myself."

Elena felt a warmth spread through her at his words. "Well, you'll have to share me with the world tonight," she quipped, enjoying the playful banter.

Elijah's expression softened. "Very well, but promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise," Elena assured him, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Elijah, who was once engrossed in kissing the beautiful woman before him, was now looking down at her, his lust palable.

"But what should we do about you wearing this..." He flickered the material with his fingers "...dress outside and giving a show to people?"

Before she could register it, they were no longer against the wall but on the bed, and Elijah's mouth was on her inner thighs, leaving marks on her delicate skin.

Elena moaned, her hand clutching the sheets as her senses ignited.

Elijah's hum vibrated against her skin as his tongue traced patterns of ecstasy, sending shivers down her spine.

She arched her back, surrendering herself to the pleasure coursing through her veins.

"Please," she gasped, barely able to form coherent words as Elijah's fingers found their rhythm, pushing her closer to the edge.

With a cry of ecstasy, Elena tumbled over the precipice, her world exploding into a kaleidoscope of sensations.

Elijah held her close, his touch grounding her amidst the whirlwind of pleasure.

As she slowly returned to herself, Elena found Elijah's gaze locked with hers, filled with love and adoration.

In that moment, she knew that their bond was unbreakable, forged in the fires of passion and desire.

But their night was far from over. With a hunger that matched her own, Elijah guided her to new heights of pleasure, each touch and caress a testament to their fiery connection.

As dawn approached, they lay tangled in each other's arms, breathless and sated. In the quiet of the early morning hours, Elena whispered words of love and gratitude, knowing that they were destined to be together, now and forever.

Chapter Text

The tension in the room was palpable as Esther's accusations echoed off the walls.

"How could you?" she yelled, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

Kol rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his temples, a gesture of frustration. "Didn't you think about the consequences?"

Esther began pacing the room, her fury evident in every step. "You knew that the king would not forgive such madness, even if you were his son!"

Kol snorted, unimpressed by Esther's theatrics. "And you stand there doing nothing, kol please, my son… you've gotten into the bed of the Queen of France! Don't you know what awaits you?"

“Mother, please keep your voice down. Yelling won't change the situation,” Kol said calmly, his demeanour a stark contrast to Esther's agitation.

Esther opened her mouth to retort but at that moment there was a knock on the door, interrupting their argument.

They both looked at each other, tension thick in the air. Esther gestured toward the door, her expression filled with apprehension.

"What if it's the King's men coming for you?" Esther exclaimed, her hand pressed against her chest in anxiety.

Kol pouted, unbothered by his mother's fears. Another knock echoed through the room, this time accompanied by a masculine throat clearing. It was a guard.

"Who is he?" Esther asked, her voice trembling slightly. She looked at Kol with that question.

“Her Majesty, Queen Elena of France, requests to see Kol Mikaelson,” the guard announced.

Kol tensed at the mention of Elena's name, exchanging a glance with his mother who wore a look of dismay.

"Tell her I'll go see her," Kol said, his tone resigned.

A new throat clearing followed. "The Queen…"

“I'm here, Kol. We need to talk,"Elena's voice, firm and determined, cut through the air.

"Go ahead," Kol muttered, his gaze shifting to the door, despite his mother's annoyed look.

A moment later, the guard flung the doors wide open, allowing Elena to enter the room. As she stepped inside, the guard retreated into the hallway, leaving them in privacy.

Elena was regal, her steely temper displaying elegance and power. Her brown eyes searched Kol's, holding a silent conversation between them.

She glanced at Esther, her expression softening slightly at the sight of Kol's mother.

“We need to talk…” Elena Began, her gaze flickering between Kol and Esther, her tone both commanding and diplomatic.

Kol stepped forward, a sense of duty and obligation guiding his movements. "This is Esther Mikaelson, my mother," he introduced, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.

Esther glanced at Elena briefly before giving her a polite nod. “Your Majesty,” she greeted, her tone respectful but guarded.

Elena nodded in acknowledgment. "It's a pleasure," she replied, her voice polite but measured.

"She's leaving," Kol muttered hastily, sensing his mother's discomfort.

Esther snorted, glaring at her son for his lack of tact. With a final nod to Elena, she excused herself from the room, leaving the two of them alone.

Elena and Kol exchanged a knowing look, the weight of their conversation hanging heavy in the air. Kol moved closer to Elena, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension swirling in his eyes.

"Don't you think you're risking too much by coming to my quarters?" Kol asked, his voice laced with concern.

Elena made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "I came to ask you what you thought about my offer," she replied, her tone firm and resolute.

Kol let out a laugh, the tension in the room momentarily broken by Elena's straightforwardness.

"Always straight to the point. And here I thought you came to see me because you missed my company," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

Elena rolled her eyes, barely resisting the urge to laugh. But she quickly regained her composure, her expression regal and composed.

"Cut the nonsense," she said, her tone commanding. "I want to know what decision you made."

Kol sighed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “What do you want me to tell you? That I will marry my brother's wife to deliberately separate her from hers? What if I accept such an agreement will I have to settle for a woman who loves another man, that she never loved me?"

Elena's expression softened, a pang of guilt tugging at her heart. She knew that it was unfair for Kol to have illusions about her, which is why she had come to the absurdity of proposing an agreement to Kol so that he would marry her to save Elijah.

She had confessed to him about the prophecy, about her plans. She had also told him that even if they married, he could only aspire to have her body, because Elena's soul belonged to God and Elijah.

Now she was there in front of him, demanding an answer.

Kol snorted and straightened his shoulders, gathering his thoughts. Elena felt the weight of his gaze, his patience wearing thin.

"I know that what I offer you is not what a man expects from a marriage, but you must also think about the benefits..."

"Which? If I accept your offer I would have to turn my back on my brother, my father…" Kol raised his hands to the ceiling “I would be tried for treason!”

"Would you do this for Elijah, for his well-being…" Elena walked over to him and took his hands in a moment of outburst. "Don't you want to protect Elijah?"

Kol turned away from her "But Elijah wouldn't understand, neither would my father… nor all of the people from my country"

Elena put a hand to her forehead “Please! Mikeal himself told me that I should marry one of you…”

“Everyone expects it to be Elijah! That's what you came for…” said while looking defeated.

Elena lifted her chin proudly, "I won't let anyone else dictate the course of my life. You know that better than anyone"

Kol sighed sadly, he walked towards her and reached out a hand to touch her face, Elena backed away out of instinct. "They shouldn't treat you like property..."

Elena was touched by kol's words. She stood her ground and went back to the gates. She stopped before leaving. "I await your answer, my dear kol.”

Chapter Text

March 12, 1995

Dear Diary,

When you meet someone, how do you picture it? One day, they’re a stranger standing across the room. The next, they’ve rearranged your life entirely.

I didn’t expect to meet Elijah Mikaelson last night.

Everyone knew of him. He’s one of the most renowned lawyers in New Orleans—graceful, eloquent, untouchable. A man like that walks into a room and it changes. His presence is quiet, but it moves like gravity.

I had to talk to him—part of the job, technically. By day I’m a secretary to the Governor, but by night… I write. Freelance journalism, mostly, for local columns and political digests. He was supposed to be a source. A quote. A line in someone else’s story. But he looked at me like I wasn’t just someone passing through.

The day before, I’d been typing budget letters and fielding calls about city permits. That night? That night I sat across from Elijah Mikaelson in a smoky lounge downtown and forgot, just for a second, who I was supposed to be.

I haven’t felt that way in a long time.

And then I saw the ring.

Left hand. Gold band.

Married.

My brain registered it. My heart ignored it.

I was never supposed to be that girl.

Never.

- E.G.

"It was something I would do, but I would've never expected her to do it," Caroline Forbes said, one leg crossed over the other in a chair far too elegant for the truth she was telling. "She and I were very different in that sense. 1995 was something for her," she laughed softly, shaking her head. "She met someone I never even knew about until years later. But I found out in her diary. Elijah Mikaelson. She wrote his name like she was afraid to speak it aloud."

Elena Miranda Gilbert, Lena to the people who loved her, was born on a gray morning in 1972, in the small, green town of Mystic Falls, Virginia. She was the only daughter of John Gilbert and Isobel Flemming.

John was a lifelong local, the kind of man who knew everyone and still chose his words carefully. Isobel was the opposite. She came from two towns over, all spark and sharp laughter, and left behind the kind of impression you remembered in full color.

"He told me a long time ago that he met a really pretty girl," Alaric Saltzman, John's best friend, remembered. "Said she made him nervous, which, for John, meant she was everything."

They married in the spring of 1970. It was a small wedding, barely 50 people, held beneath the oaks in her parents’ backyard. Two years later, Elena was born.

"They were good together," Alaric added. "I mean, they were really good together. You could see it."

Isobel was very protective of Elena, maybe because she was the baby, the only baby of the family. They were close, close as best friends could've been.

By the time she was in high school, Elena had already met Caroline Forbes and Bonnie Bennett. Cheerleading practices became sleepovers. Sleepovers became shared dreams and whispered rebellions. The three of them were inseparable, Mystic Falls’ golden girls.

But then the real world cracked open, and they all moved in different directions.

Caroline went on to study political science. Bonnie, pre-med. Elena? She took a job in the state capitol before quietly transferring to New Orleans.

"She told me she wanted something new," Bonnie once said. "She didn’t say what she was running from."

And in early 1995, in the half-light of a hotel bar, Elena Gilbert met Elijah Mikaelson.

She never told anyone. Not really.

But she wrote it all down.

Years passed.

The next time they crossed paths, it was in a courtroom hallway, of all places. Elena had come to shadow the city prosecutor for a week on assignment. She almost turned around when she saw him speaking to a client.

This time, she didn’t walk toward him.

She tried to avoid him altogether.

But Elijah was persistent. Not in a loud or arrogant way, but the way rivers wear down stone. A small smile, a gentle insistence, the quiet asking of, “Miss Gilbert, may I have a moment?”

When they finally sat down, two coffees between them, silence folding over the conversation, he gestured toward his left hand.

“No ring,” he said simply. Then, after a pause: “The band you saw that night belonged to my wife. She passed away five years before I met you. I wore it because I didn’t want to forget her. But after you… I stopped wanting to remember her that way.”

Elena didn’t say anything for a long time.

Sometimes you don’t need to.

That day, for the first time since that smoky hotel lounge, she let herself look at him fully.

And she didn’t look away.