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WREN WASN'T SURE HOW SHE GOT ROPED INTO A DINNER PARTY WITH ELENA GILBERT'S BOYFRIEND'S BROTHER, HIS GIRLFRIEND, WREN'S OLD BABYSITTER, AND A WRITER CALLED ELIJAH — BUT THAT HAD BECOME HER PLANS FOR THE EVENING.

In preparation for the inevitable shitstorm that was to brew, Wren sat next to Bonnie and Jeremy at the Grill, trying to stomach the burger that was probably the size of her face, paired with copious amounts of grease.

She'd been in LA too long.

"Ah, incomin'," Jeremy muttered, glancing up as another teenager entered the grill.

Judging by Bonnie and Jeremy's glance, this was Luka, the witch they were using to try and help Elena. Wren wasn't entirely on board with the plan but didn't have the morals to back it up, so just sort of shrugged about the entire ordeal.

"You want to tell me what the hell happened yesterday?" Luka asked Bonnie, resting his palms on the table and looming over Bonnie. Wren raised her eyebrows at the hidden threat in his words, prepared to quite literally punch the man if he tried anything.

"Sorry?" Bonnie asked, putting on a confused expression.

"Don't play dumb," Luka's jaw tensed. "You both were here and—"

"—And?" Jeremy cut him off, raising his eyebrows.

"And that's all I remember," Luka finished in irritation. "One minute I'm playing pool and the next I'm waking up in a bathroom stall."

"Oh, that's happened to me plenty," Wren pitched in with a nonchalant shrug, taking a sip of her Long Island. Being pretty had its perks — namely drinking under twenty-one. "You should really lay off the drinks, mate."

"Who are you?" Luka's eyes snapped to hers. "I don't remember you."

"Wren Morningstar," she offered a cheerful smile in greeting. "I'm going to ask you very kindly to leave my best friend alone or I'll be forced to kick your arse and that would be a bloody shame for everyone."

Luka blinked at the threat and Jeremy chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

"Excuse me?" Luka asked, surprised by her blatant threat.

"Yes, that's the point, love, you're excused," she waved her hand a bit in a shooing motion.

Luka opened his mouth to speak, looked between the three of them and shook his head. "This isn't over," he told Bonnie with a scowl before slapping the table once and walking off.

"Well, that was a fun start to the day," Wren mused, looking between the pair. "Is he always such a pleasure?"

"He's an ass," Jeremy piped in, shaking his head.

Wren and Bonnie exchanged a look, Bonnie shook her head a fraction and shrugged minutely. Ah, Jeremy was jealous. Go figure.

—

Wren checked her phone to see a missed call from her father — she'd get back to him later — and knocked on the Salvatore door.

A moment passed before it opened and Jenna squealed, pulling the girl into a hug.

"Oh my god, Wren, you've been sorely missed," she said excitedly, hugging her tightly.

Wren laughed and hugged her just as warmly, pulling back a moment later. "Hey, Jenna, thanks for the invite, this place is enormous."

"Yeah, the Salvatores are loaded," Jenna shrugged, hooking her arm through Wren's and walking her through the home, giving her a small tour and talking about her boyfriend.

Wren glanced around, half listening absentmindedly, looking for any sort of clue about their personalities. She'd yet to meet the brothers, having just got into town after Elena and Stefan went on a romantic getaway to the Gilbert cabin. Jenna had only invited her after hearing she'd come back and wanted to sprinkle some "Morningstar Magic" onto the evening.

"You must be Wren," a dark-haired male stepped in front of Wren and Jenna, offering a hand and a charming smile. "I'm Damon Salvatore. Welcome to my home."

Wren shook his hand easily, nodding. "It's pretty. Bit too old to belong to two teenagers," she replied dryly, an allusion to her knowledge of his background. Damon's piercing eyes widened a fraction and his grin widened.

"Oh, you're going to be fun," he squeezed her hand and let go. "Jenna, if you don't mind helping Andie in the kitchen?"

Jenna gave Damon an eye roll and Wren a sweet smile before walking off. Damon, who had apparently deemed Wren his new side piece, gently dragged her to meet the others.

"This is Alaric," he introduced a brunette male with a chiseled jaw. "Ric, this is Wren, she's a friend of Bonnie's."

"Wren Morningstar," she offered a handshake and a smile, her red nails grazing the skin of Alaric's pulse. "You're Jenna's boyfriend?"

"Oh, geez, boring, old news," Damon rolled his eyes. "We're here to talk about how to politely threaten Elijah."

Wren blinked, momentarily caught off-guard. "Isn't he just a writer?"

"What do you know about anything, you've been here five minutes," he rolled his eyes. "Listen, princess Diana," she frowned at the nickname, not enjoying her accent being brought into the situation. "Elijah's got plans to kill Elena and we're not about to let that happen. Now, Bonnie says you can be trusted, but I trust Bonnie as much as I trust a stake to the heart—"

"—If you threaten her, I can arrange that—"

"—See, this is what I mean," Damon shook his head. "How can I trust that?"

"Trust that Bonnie's my family," Wren pointed out. "And that makes Elena important to me. And I grew up with Elena, she doesn't deserve this."

"I still think it's a bad idea," Alaric pointed out.

Damon turned, pouring himself a whiskey, offering Wren a glass, who took it with a grateful smile. "There's no such thing as a bad idea. Just...poorly executed awesome ones."

Wren coughed into her whiskey at the remark, lifting her glass a fraction to toast him. "That's funny, you're the funny brother."

"You're correct," Damon nodded. "My brother has the humor of drying paint."

"No, don't do this," Alaric shook his head, looking between the pair. "He doesn't need more encouragement."

"Everyone needs encouragement," Wren shrugged a bit, taking another sip. "It's how humanity evolves. Besides, I like a bit of chaos."

"Ooh, I like you," Damon looked her over again. "What's your story?"

"It would make you cry." She winked. "Ta, ta, I'm starving."

She walked out of the parlor, away from the men, who continued talking, and glanced down at her phone again. Her father was calling her. Wren rolled her eyes. She loved the man, but her grandfather above, he could helicopter her. She was nearing nineteen, she was old enough to take care of herself.

"Who invited him?"

Wren looked up, eyes widening in surprise at John Gilbert entering the home.

"Oh, it's been a very long time since I've seen you," she commented as he made the rounds — each person less enthused to see him than the last.

"Wren Morningstar," John gave her a disappointed look. "I thought you'd left town as a kid."

"I thought you'd know better than to look in my direction," she replied in mild annoyance. "I'm not afraid to hit a bloke, even if you've got the debilitating medical condition of ugly."

John sighed. "I didn't miss that."

Wren took another sip of her drink, unbothered by his words. She'd only met John a handful of times, mostly at sleepovers with Elena and Bonnie when he was staying in town or during a family barbecue. He had never liked her nor had the patience for her, but she'd never figured out why.

She always assumed he was either racist or hated children.

Or both.

Either way, she hated him just as much.

"John!" Damon walked over, a frown on his face. "Surprise. Leave."

Wren snorted into her drink again, lips quirked in amusement. Glad to see she wasn't the only person who hated the Gilbert.

"When Jenna told me she was coming to a dinner party for Elijah, I decided I couldn't miss out on all the fun and games," he glanced to Wren, then to Damon. "Besides, I didn't know minors were allowed."

"Oh, I'm an adult, thanks," Wren shook her head.

"I invited her," Jenna told John in irritation. "We're friends."

"Didn't you used to babysit her?"

"Didn't you used to have a personality?" Wren replied and John huffed, walking off at something Damon said. Wren and Jenna exchanged an amused smile, trotting after him.

The girls were busy in conversation when the doorbell rang and there were muffled voices coming from the entrance. Jenna left Wren to greet Elijah, but the latter was too preoccupied snacking on the cheese platter Andie had made. (Purchased.)

"Wren, this is Elijah," Jenna's voice grabbed her attention and the girl looked over, mid-chew, offering a lazy, closed-mouth smile. "Elijah, this is a family friend, Wren Morningstar."

Wren didn't know Elijah personally, so she hadn't picked up on the momentary freeze of his hand, the stuttering of his breath. The hand through his hair and the smile that came a second too late to be natural.

For Wren, who grew up a Morningstar and simply exuded seduction by nature, this was entirely normal.

"I—I'm Elijah," the man cleared his throat, offering a hand and the tense smile. "It's a pleasure, truly. You said Morningstar, w-where is that from?"

"Los Angeles," Wren said after finishing her bite, taking a sip of the drink and shaking his hand. "My dad owns a club there, if you've been."

"Lux," Elijah's eyes flashed with recognition and then widened. "Lucifer Morningstar — that's, you're his daughter."

"Bingo," she winked at Elijah, pulling her hand back, unsurprised by his own surprise.

This always happened.

People knew her dad, her dad knew people. Or his name or hers scared them off. It was almost expected at this point, and it used to confuse her, but now it happened so often with all of his deals that it became commonplace.

"I would love to speak with you more about—"

"—You gotta talk to my dad for deals," Wren shrugged. "Sorry."

"No, that isn't what I was intending to—"

Damon clapped his hands together. "Alright, who's ready to eat?"

Without so much as another glance to the man, Wren brushed past Elijah and took a seat at the table.

—

"I hate to break it to you, Damon, but according to Elijah, your family is so not a founder of this town," Jenna pointed out with a smirk, pouring Damon more wine and then topping off Wren, who sat next to Elijah at the table.

"Hmm, do tell," Damon's face blanked and he raised his eyebrows in false inquiry, looking to Elijah.

"Well," Elijah began, glancing to Wren for a second before continuing. "As I mentioned to Jenna earlier, a faction of settlers migrated from Salem after the witch trials in the 1690's. Over the next hundred years, they developed this community where they could feel safe from persecution."

"Hmm, because they were witches," Jenna teased with a grin.

Wren took a bite of her entree, shrugging a bit. "Actually, the Salem Witch Trials began for three reasons, the obvious being King James II's rule and hatred of Puritans, and then of course disagreements about land ownership," she explained, having heard these stories a million times growing up. "Because of the King Philip's War, wherein colonizers and Indigenous peoples fought in the 1670's. This was before the trials, of course, but most of the children had been shown such acts of depravity and brutality that what we now understand as PTSD was in fact their own version of trauma. In the next generation with such deep unresolved trauma and the thinning political stability, they accused women of being witches to ease tension in the area, but it convoluted into madness quite quickly."

There was a beat of silence that followed her explanation.

"Okay," Damon was the first to recover. "That was weird."

"She's right," Andie nodded, glancing to Wren curiously. "There's no tangible proof that there were witches in Salem."

"Andie's a journalist," Damon gave Elijah a smirk. "Big on facts."

"Right, but women facing prosecution could still have run to Virginia and founded Mystic Falls under the guise of magical protection," Wren countered with a look. "Both things can be true. Women have been accused of everything of hundreds of years and what do we do? Run and protect our loved ones. That could have easily happened here. Men like to take ownership of what isn't theirs."

"That's not — this isn't a feminist thing," John spoke up, giving Wren a look. "Why does everything have to be an argument with you?"

"Literally, who said you could speak?" Wren blinked in fake confusion. "I don't remember inviting the circus to town, you should go back, you're probably missed."

"Wren's right," Elijah spoke up, easing the tension, his eyes settling on her a moment before he looked around again. "The lore says there was this wave of anti-witch hysteria. It broke out in a neighboring settlement, so these witches were rounded up. They were tied to stakes in a field together, and, uh, burned."

"That's plausible," Wren nodded. "There aren't any documented cases in Salem or anywhere in the United States where witches were burned, but it was popular in the Medieval Ages in Europe," she explained. "And if you think about how little we truly know of human history, seeing as most of it is written from the viewpoint of a winner, the likelihood of this happening's not impossible."

"Thank you," Elijah nodded to her, eyes meeting hers again.

That was strange.

Wren hadn't noticed before, but he had a certain...oh, she couldn't quite describe it. His body seemed much too small for his energy. Perhaps his soul was heavy. That happened occasionally if someone had seen too much. She remembered crying for days after meeting Amenadiel, her father's brother, because his endurance and strife was too much for her to be around.

Wren hadn't taken to truly look at him during the introduction, but she found herself not wanting to look away. It sounded as though someone else was talking, but she couldn't tear her gaze from him. He was very handsome; she realized suddenly and hated the warmth of her cheeks. The coolness of his movements, the effortless grace he harbored. He was very old-fashioned, in his fancy suit and slightly dated haircut.

He was elegant. Regal.

Breathless, Wren finally looked away, frowning at her food and taking a sip of her drink.

That was a very, very bad thing to think because if she found him attractive it could have terrible repercussions. And she was never good at relationships — look at the last guy, her grandfather's name, that had been messy — and this man was simply too good looking to be a casual fling.

Woah, there's a thought she couldn't be thinking. Trying to push the grating nature of his persistence in her mind, she chugged the rest of the wine and poured another glass quickly.

Oh, how she'd never wished to be able to get drunk more than now.

—

"Does anyone care for some cognac?" Damon asked, standing slowly. "I have a bottle I've been saving for ages."

"Please," Wren gave him a pleading look.

"None for me, thanks," Alaric shook his head. "Nine bottles of wine is my limit," he glanced to Wren. "How are you still fine? Aren't you in high school?"

"Do I have one of those faces?" Wren rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not, thanks, but I've got a knack for liquor," she looked up at Damon. "Cognac, if you please, love."

People started to get up and Wren sighed, rolling her eyes a bit. Her arm brushed Elijah's and at his soft apology, her breath hitched. She really hated that her arm felt all tingly after. She did not at all want to get involved with someone who was supposedly trying to kill Elena.

"The gentleman should take their drinks in the study," Andie suggested and Wren gave her an odd look. What a strange thing to say.

"I have to say," Elijah spoke up, his hand lightly brushing Wren's back as he passed her. She tensed under his touch, the warmth of it leaving her bothered and uncomfortable. She coughed into her hand awkwardly. "The food was almost as wonderful as the company," his eyes met Wren's again and her stomach somersaulted.

She was in so much trouble.

"Company's a word derived from Old French meaning 'compagnie', which comes from the Late Latin word 'companio' which translates to 'one who eat's bread'," she blurted out.

"That's true," Elijah hummed, seemingly unaffected by her suddenly anxious demeanor. Damon gave the pair a strange look, glancing to Alaric, who also watched them in confusion. "But 'companio' comes from the Germanic expression 'gahlabio' which means 'with bread.' It was originally reserved in times of feasting, story-trading, and business discussions. The latter of which was also described as 'earning the bread', so I believed I've used it in correct context, hm?"

Elijah didn't touch her as he spoke, one hand wrapped around his glass, the hanging loosely at his side, but she felt like he had. Wren felt pulled by his words, lulled into the warmest —

"Yeah, completely, you're brilliant, great job," she nodded stiffly.

"This is gross," Damon observed, making a disgusted face. "Wren, go anywhere else. I don't need to see this. Elijah, how about you and I get a drink with Alaric?"

Wren nodded, tearing her eyes from Elijah — grateful for Damon's quick thinking (because what was happening to her?) — and she rushed off to help Jenna get dessert.

"It's frozen," the woman explained. "I just stick it in the oven."

"Oh, I could've brought something," she pointed out, taking a bite of the pasta that was stuck in the bottom of the pan. "I love cooking."

"Do you really?" Jenna asked, eyebrows raising. She walked past Wren and poured some tea into cups. Wren immediately followed and took a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, pouring a copious amount into her tea. "Christ, Wren, you serious?"

"Jenna, I would bet you my entire trust fund that I will not get drunk."

Jenna blinked. "You have a trust fund?"

"Technicality," Wren shrugged, sitting down and taking a sip of the tea.

"Sorry, guys," Jenna voiced as the remaining attendees came back into the dining room. "Dessert is taking longer than I thought. I...usually just unwrap food," she finished with a playful smile.

Wren tried not to think about the way her heart sped up and her mind went fuzzy when Elijah took the seat next to her, his leg only inches from her own.

"So," Andie started, sitting across from Elijah and grabbing his attention from Wren. That gave her mixed feelings in a bag she very much did not want to open. "I know this is a social thing but I — I would really love to ask you some more questions about the work that you're doing here."

"I'd love to answer."

"Great," Andie smiled. "Oh, that's so great." She looked to Alaric, who entered just after Damon. Wren continued sipping her tea, then poured a little more — without whiskey and frowned when she finished that — and took another sip. "Ric, would you go and grab the notebook out of my bag?"

"Elijah," Damon interrupted. "Did John tell you he's Elena's uncle/father?"

Wren blinked, frowning in confusion. When had that been established? She'd have to ask Elena for details. Did that mean — oh she didn't want to think about John having sex with anyone that actually made her feel ill.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that," Elijah nodded.

"How is he aware and I'm not?" Wren asked in an almost whine. "That doesn't seem very fair."

"Why do you have to know anything?" John retorted and Wren grimaced.

"John, your voice," she stuck out her tongue in distaste, pulling a disgusted expression. "Just now, it was vile. Don't ever speak again."

"And like Wren," Damon smirked a bit, looking to Elijah. "Elena hates him, so there's absolutely no need to keep him on the endangered species list."

"I would not mourn if he passed," Wren pitched in. "He has less charm than a rat with the plague."

"Ric, it's in the front pocket," Andie spoke up, talking to Alaric.

Wren tilted her head a fraction at the oblivious nature of Andie. Was Damon compelling her? Oh, that was terrible, and she decidedly hated that.

"On the, you know what...excuse me, guys," she smiled apologetically and stood, leaving Wren with the three men.

"What I'd like to know, Elijah," John spoke up, ignoring Wren's eye roll. "Is how you intend on killing Klaus?'

Wren's eyebrows tugged together at the name. That was familiar. Where had she heard that name before?

"Gentlemen, there's a few things we should probably get clear right now," Elijah spoke up, toying with a fork before looking up to Damon and John, pointing it at them half-heartedly. "I allow you to live solely to keep an eye on Elena. I allow Elena to remain in her house living her life with her friends as she does as a courtesy. If you become a liability, I'll take her away from you and you'll never see her again."

Wren looked at him, irritated by the threat. "Good luck with that, love, you'll have quite a barrier to get through."

Elijah looked down at her, eyes mulling over her tight expression. "Yes, you are an unexpected surprise," he nodded. "But there's plenty you don't know, and when that comes to light, you'll find the barrier of which you speak will be on the defensive, not the other way around."

Wren let out a noise of acknowledgement at his words, eyes narrowing. She opened her mouth to reply but Andie came back, taking a seat across from the pair again.

"Okay, my first question is when you got here to Mystic..."

Elijah's scream cut her off and Wren's eyes widened as she jumped from her chair. "Oh my — are you — what are you doing?" She asked Alaric in shock, looking between the pair. No one seemed that surprised, and she realized with a creeping horror that this was a planned attack.

Looking down at his body as Alaric pulled a dagger out, she watched dark veins crawl up his neck and face. Wren paled.

"You know what he is?" She breathed out, looking between them all. "Oh, you complete idiots, if you'd only — he's a bloody Original, have you any idea the sort of mess I've got to clean up for you now?"

"Better do it fast," Alaric spoke up, handing the dagger to Damon. "Get rid of him before Jenna comes back with dessert."

The pair quickly worked to remove Elijah's body, but something didn't feel right about the situation. He wasn't dead, he couldn't be. She'd never met an Original, but her father had dealt with them countless times. There was a circle of supernatural creatures and while none were as powerful as her father, they all existed within the realm of one another.

The Originals were very, very high on that list.

But the most frustrating thing about the entire ordeal was that Wren wasn't upset by the situation or even that he wasn't going to die.

No, Wren was furious with herself because the ache in her chest that made her vision blur told her that she cared if he did die.

That was a problem in and of itself.

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ahhhh straight into the action because honestly story's a little chaotic haha hopefully you guys enjoyed it though!! i usually do soooo much with elijah in stories and i wanted to switch it this time and have him daggered for a MINUTE so we'll get loototttsss of klaus & then bekah first before anyone else. which is sad to me because i love elijah and i love writing him bah okay hopefully you guys like wren so far? trying to make her like her father because she fully doesn't care about anything and is like "oh hmm okay interesting" half-heartedly so when she does care about elijah all of a sudden it's like rahhhhh go away feelings who are youuuuu????? also we'll have more bonnie and stuff later because i love bonnie and in so many of my stories the oc doesn't get on with her but they do here!! thanks gang<3