A/N: I am overwhelmed and so humbled by all the kind comments in the last chapter. I honestly thought no one was liking what I was writing and had a major freak out, now I know it's the opposite I am so inspired to write even more. Thank you all so much. Enjoy the following chapter which is pretty much 100% AU. xoxo

UNDERGROUND CAVERNS

In the dimly lit underground caverns, Elijah and Aella navigated through the winding paths, shadows dancing around them as Aella's fiery power flickered and danced over her outstretched palm. To Aella, it felt like they'd been trekking through these subterranean tunnels for eons, but she knew she was just indulging in a touch of dramatic flair. She stole a glance over her shoulder at Elijah, whose appearance could rival that of a model fresh off the pages of GQ, despite enduring weeks of incarceration in a daggered cell.

"So, how did you end up here?" Aella's voice sliced through the quiet, her curiosity piqued. "You told me the saga of you and Klaus, but how did you actually find your way here? This part of the world wasn't even a blip on the map back then."

Elijah's lips curled into a smug grin, his gaze fixed on the path ahead as he delved into the tale of his origins.

"Not by anyone in your history books," he retorted, his tone laced with a hint of superiority. "My parents were just starting their brood when a plague ravaged our homeland, claiming the life of one of my siblings. They were desperate to flee the scourge and shield their future offspring from a similar fate. Thankfully, my resourceful mother had connections – a witch who dabbled in communing with spirits and divining the secrets of distant realms. It was she who revealed the existence of a mystical land, a sanctuary untouched by illness, where its denizens were bestowed with extraordinary gifts of speed and strength. And so, my family embarked on a journey to this haven, where we found refuge among its blessed inhabitants."

Aella's interest was piqued, her attention rapt as she pieced together the clues Elijah scattered before her.

"Speed and strength?" she mused, a spark of recognition igniting within her. "The werewolves."

Elijah nodded in affirmation, though Aella's gaze remained fixed on the path ahead. Her mind was weaving through the implications of his revelation.

"To us, they were merely our neighbors," Elijah continued, his voice carrying the weight of nostalgia. "For over two decades, my family coexisted peacefully with the lupine inhabitants of this land, during which time my family had more children."

Aella shook her head in bemusement, a weary smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Werewolves, witches, spirits," she remarked with a hint of irony. "You make it all sound so... ordinary."

Elijah's gaze softened with empathy as he regarded the teenage girl before him. In his time, magic had flowed more freely, a force to be harnessed rather than feared. It was only with the rise of diabolical humans in Salem that witches found themselves shrouded in dread. Yet, even in those days of relative freedom, the unknown had always carried an air of trepidation, and werewolves were a novel concept, one that sparked fear even among the seasoned witches.

"It was," Elijah began, his voice heavy with reminiscence. "Once a month, our family would retreat into these very caves beneath our village. The howls of the wolves would echo through the night, and by morning, we'd emerge unscathed. But one fateful full moon, Klaus and our youngest brother Henrik defied our parents' warnings and ventured out to witness the transformation of men into beasts. It was an act forbidden.

Elijah's tone deepened as he delved into the memories, the pain of loss resurfacing as he spoke of Henrik, the beloved youngest sibling whose life was tragically cut short.

"Henrik paid the ultimate price," he continued, his voice tinged with sorrow. "And it marked the beginning of the end for our family. Unable to bear the thought of losing any more children, my parents made a decision—a decision that would alter the course of our existence forever."

Aella listened intently, her eyes wide with emotion, tears threatening to spill over as she grappled with the weight of Elijah's words.

"So, vampirism was a form of protection?" she queried, her voice trembling with disbelief.

Elijah could sense her incredulity, her struggle to reconcile the notion of immortality as a safeguard against loss.

"What else would it be?" he countered, his tone edged with a hint of defiance.

Aella scoffed, her skepticism palpable.

"A curse," she retorted, her words laced with bitterness.

Elijah had encountered this sentiment repeatedly: the inability of others to comprehend the sacrifices made in the name of survival.

"My parents saw it as a means of preserving their children," Elijah explained, his voice tinged with resignation. "To spare us from the ravages of time and mortality."

Aella shook her head, unable to reconcile herself to the notion of eternal life devoid of the passage of time, of growth, of change.

"But why stay?" she pressed, her voice tinged with frustration. "If they were so fearful of the werewolves, so desperate to protect their children, why not... leave?"

Elijah chuckled darkly, though there was little mirth in the sound.

"Pride," he replied, the word heavy with significance. "My father refused to flee, to cower in the face of adversity. He sought not just survival, but dominance. Where the wolves could bite, we had to bite harder. Where they possessed speed, we had to be faster. Agility, strength, heightened senses..."

Aella's eyes widened in disbelief, a sarcastic quip escaping her lips.

"He sounds like a real barrel of laughs," she remarked dryly.

The conversation between Elijah and Aella came to an abrupt halt as they reached a crossroads within the cavernous depths. Aella, her palm illuminated by the flickering flames of her power, extended her hand toward each direction, but the darkness shrouded any hint of what lay ahead. It was then that she turned to Elijah, his vampiric eyes capable of piercing through the shadows with unparalleled clarity.

"All right. Which way?" Aella's voice sliced through the silence.

Elijah's brow furrowed in concentration, his keen eyes scanning both paths before him. Yet, despite his enhanced vision, he was at a loss.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

Aella spun on him, her disbelief palpable.

"Aren't you supposed to be all-knowing?" she quipped, a hint of sarcasm lacing her words. "Agility, strength, senses..."

Elijah's response was measured, his expression impassive.

"I'm an Original. Not a God," he countered, his tone devoid of amusement.

As Aella whimsically hummed the familiar tune of "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe," her finger danced between the two diverging tunnels, her decision-making process more reminiscent of a child choosing a treat than a life-and-death situation. Elijah couldn't help but inwardly wince at the thought that this seemingly carefree girl could be the one to dispatch his brother.

"Though I wouldn't mind a God killing me for witnessing this," Elijah muttered under his breath, his tone laced with dry humor, a testament to his exasperation.

Aella's singsong continued, her voice lilting as she recited the age-old rhyme. Her finger landed decisively on the left tunnel. Yet, even as she proclaimed her choice, uncertainty lingered in the air.

"My mother told me to pick the very best one, and you - are... It," she declared, her voice trailing off in annoyance as the rhyme led her back to her initial decision.

With a bright smile directed at Elijah, Aella announced, "Left it is," before forging ahead, her determination unwavering.

But their progress was swiftly impeded as deadly stakes sprang forth from the walls, poised to strike. In a heartbeat, Aella's reflexes kicked into action, her hand moving with lightning speed to shatter the lethal projectiles. As she caught her breath, a quiet admission slipped from her lips, borne on the wind and heard only by Elijah's keen ears.

"I am never moaning to Stefan about training my reflexes again," she murmured, the realization of her own mortality sinking in.

Meanwhile, Elijah moved to inspect one of the broken stakes, his fingers brushing against the wood before recoiling with a hiss of pain. Despite the sting, he couldn't help but admire the cunning behind the trap.

"Intriguing. Soaked in vervain," he remarked, his voice tinged with respect for their adversaries' ingenuity.

Aella snorted derisively, her response dripping with sarcasm.

"Intriguing. I nearly died again," she retorted, her frustration evident.

With a casual shrug, Elijah offered a simple reassurance.

"If your reflexes weren't as sharp, those stakes may have pierced vital organs. But I could have healed you," he pointed out matter-of-factly, before continuing on his path without waiting for Aella's response.

Yet, her mind latched onto a single word, a seed of doubt planted by Elijah's nonchalant remark.

"Could?" she echoed incredulously, her steps quickening to catch up with him. "Could?!"

SALVATORE BOARDING HOUSE

Elena's agitation was palpable as she paced the entrance hall, her footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. Damon's abrupt intrusion into her bedroom as she bathed, his urgent shouts about Klaus targeting Jenna, had set her nerves on edge.

Fortunately, she had yet to tackle her tangled brunette locks, spared the additional frustration of dealing with her unruly hair. Instead, she hastily threw on some clothes before storming downstairs in search of answers from Damon, only to find him conspicuously absent. So, she paced.

When Stefan and Jenna finally entered, Elena's heart leaped into her throat, and she rushed towards her aunt with a mixture of relief and concern etched upon her features.

"Jenna!"

Jenna's response was subdued as she approached Elena, her demeanor heavy with distress.

"Klaus is Ric and Ric is Klaus," she lamented, her words weighted with the gravity of the situation.

Elena's embrace enveloped her aunt, offering what solace she could in the face of uncertainty.

"Yeah, it's kinda freaky," Elena acknowledged, her own unease simmering beneath the surface.

Jenna's withdrawal from their embrace brought a momentary pause before she voiced another unsettling realization.

"Not Katherine and you weird because that's two bodies and two personalities. This is an evil man inside my boyfriend's body," Jenna muttered, her expression twisted in disgust at the thought. "Do you think he has Ric's memories? Memories of us?"

Elena's brows furrowed in contemplation as Stefan stepped forward, his voice steady as he sought to assuage Jenna's fears.

"No, it looks like Klaus has control of Alaric's body, not his mind. Otherwise, he would know a hell of a lot more about us than he does," Stefan reassured, his words a beacon of rationality amidst the chaos.

As Jenna processed Stefan's explanation, her gaze swept the room, noting the absence of one key individual.

"Where's Aella?" she inquired, her concern extending to the young witch.

Elena's response came swift and sure, a testament to her protective instincts.

"With Caroline. A little TLC," she explained, her tone tinged with reassurance.

Just then, Damon emerged from the library, an empty bottle in hand, his casual demeanor drawing Elena's ire. She stepped forward, halting him in his tracks with a pointed glare.

"Where were you?" she demanded, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "You bang on my door that Klaus has Jenna, and then run off before I can get anything else. I've been freaking out."

Damon's response was devoid of remorse, his indifference palpable as he glanced past Elena to where Jenna stood unharmed.

"She's fine," he stated simply, his nonchalance only adding fuel to Elena's simmering frustration.

As Damon made a move to head for the basement in search of more alcohol, Elena's eyes widened in alarm. With a sense of urgency, she darted to the basement door, positioning herself firmly in front of it, effectively blocking his path.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her tone firm and resolute.

Damon regarded her with suspicion, his gaze narrowed, while Stefan's own eyes narrowed in response to the tense standoff unfolding before him. Brandishing the empty bottle, Damon attempted to dismiss Elena's concerns.

"I'm empty. There's more downstairs," he stated matter-of-factly, making a grab for the door handle, only to be met with Elena's steadfast resistance.

Elena's resolve remained unshaken as she stepped to the side, her stance unwavering as she blocked Damon's access to the basement.

"I really don't want alcohol in the house anymore, and since the house is in my name, I say no alcohol," she asserted firmly, her voice carrying the weight of her determination.

Damon scoffed in disbelief at Elena's declaration, his frustration palpable as he attempted to circumvent her blockade. Stefan's suspicion deepened, his gaze shifting between Damon and Elena, sensing that something was amiss, especially considering Elena's earlier behavior.

"Where's Aella?" Stefan interjected, his tone laced with concern.

Damon rolled his eyes in annoyance, dismissing Stefan's question with a flippant remark.

"Not the time for missing your annoying girlfriend, Stefan," he retorted, his attention fixated on Elena, who nervously laughed in response, her movements still obstructing Damon's path to the basement.

Elena attempted to deflect suspicion, offering a strained explanation as Stefan continued to scrutinize her closely.

"I told you, I just told Jenna. She and Caroline are having a little T-"

Stefan cut her off, finishing her sentence with a knowing nod.

"-TLC. Strange that Aella used that exact phrasing," he remarked, his keen intuition honing in on the discrepancy.

Elena's laughter wavered nervously, prompting Damon to question her sudden change in demeanor.

"Why is your heartbeat rising?" he demanded, his sharp gaze fixated on Elena.

Jenna, sensing the tension in the air, cautiously approached Elena, her concern evident in her voice.

"Elena?"

However, Stefan remained focused on Elena, pressing her for answers with a sense of urgency.

"And what were you really doing in the cellar earlier?" he probed, his tone firm and unwavering.

Damon's own thoughts raced as he detected the panic in Elena's heartbeat, a realization dawning upon him. With a sinking feeling, he closed his eyes briefly before turning his attention back to Elena.

"Tell me she didn't?" he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and resignation.

Elena's gulp was audible as Damon effortlessly pushed her aside and made his way down the stairs into the basement. Stefan hurried over and discovered Aella's note, handing it to Damon as the truth became painfully clear. In Aella's unmistakable handwriting, the note bore a damning message: "I'm sorry, Damon, but we can't trust you anymore."

Damon's expression darkened as the note slipped from his fingers, the weight of Aella's betrayal settling heavily upon him.

"She did," he murmured, his voice tinged with bitterness and regret.