chapter four, mother's tales

IT ALL FELT INCREDIBLY ODD. Everything seemed too bright and too loud. The thirst was buried with a few cups of water as her shaking fingers were picking grapes, one by one. The most concerning thing was, that her brothers were standing in front of her and, that a woman beside them wasn't Katerina Petrova.

It didn't take her long to add two plus two and understand that this wasn't 1864. But she didn't burden herself with the questions as to why and how she was here. For a moment, just a split moment, she was happy to see her brothers again.

"Do you want anything else? We only have fruit, nothing else. I'd go and get something. Anything you want." Stefan suggested, watching his bathed sister, dressed in his clothes, slowly eating grapes from the fruit bowl.

When she wasn't covered in a layer of dirt, without knots in her hair, in his clothing, it was as if she was never away from them. As if they have spent over one hundred years all together. But the hesitation in her eyes, the fear told them that it wasn't the case.

"I'm content. Thank you." Her voice was a bit hoarse, but she wasn't whispering anymore.

"I wish," Damon hesitantly started, wanting to say a lot, but not knowing how to, "I wish we could explain what is going on. But we have no idea, Ophelia."

Her heart stung for a second hearing him say her name. Her brown eyes filled with tears and the tremble in her hands became worse, so she refrained from eating more and placed her hands on her lap. On the pants—never in her life, had Ophelia thought she will be wearing pants. Father would never allow it.

"I have not—killed anyone," she shook her head, not managing to look at them all. "What townspeople say—I am not a witch."

Damon shifted closer, "We know you haven't done it. We aren't blaming you for those murders in the town. You are innocent."

"Then why did they take me?" Her voice broke at the end and her perfect posture broke—her shoulders dropped forward and she covered her mouth with her hand to not let out a sob. Father would get mad if he'd hear her cry.

Elena shifted a bit away as the Salvatore brothers hugged their sister. It was heartbreaking to see an innocent woman going through so much pain. And now, she has arrived as a new target for a man who won't stop until he has gotten what he wanted.

"I don't know, Lia," Stefan whispered, placing his hand on his sister's shoulder as Damon stood on the other side of her. "You were too good for this world."

Ophelia closed her eyes, accepting the warmth and affection from her brothers which were a rare sight. Either one of them was away, or they fell in love with the same woman and the importance of their own sister faded away in their canvases.

Trying not to sniff loudly, she defended her case: "That man – I do not know the man in the forest. I did not take anything from him."

Stefan pulled away and looked at Damon, hesitating about telling all of this to her. It was already too much and she didn't know anything. But as Elijah warned them, they didn't have much time before Klaus will try to hurt her in order to save his ritual. They had no other choice.

"Listen to me, Ophelia, very carefully," Stefan placed his hands on her shoulders and made her look at him. "That man in the forest, his name is Klaus. He's a very bad man and he won't hesitate to hurt you or any one of us. Somehow, your arrival took something very dear from him and... If we don't figure out what has happened, he will try to hurt you."

Looking at the clouded eyes of her brother, there was once again no warm forest in them and the shining circle around his pupil seemed dull. But the words sunk into her and she nodded. It was as almost if her everlasting destiny was to be blamed for something she hasn't done. Was that the only reason she was breathing again? To die?

"I did not do anything to him," she repeated.

"We know. And maybe our friends will help us find out what has happened and that you're innocent," Stefan explained and pulled away from her. "We'll keep you safe, Ophelia. I promise."

Ophelia nodded once again and quickly wiped the tears off her face—she was used to doing that. On some days she would do it so often and so fast that a room full of people would never notice that she was shedding tears. She had no right to cry. Especially when father was around.

But the youngest Salvatore looked at Elena, not Catherine, and slightly tilted her head: "I apologize if I am to be blunt, but how do you look exactly like Katerina? You must be her descendant."

"I am," Elena nodded once. "Catherine had a daughter that was taken away from her when she was young. But why I look exactly like her – the way of nature, nothing else."

Ophelia hadn't known that Catherine had a daughter. She was quite close with Catherine once she showed up in Mystic Falls, but they grew apart when she started to be courted by both of her brothers. It caused many arguments between the two women and Ophelia refrained from spending a lot of time with her since she didn't want to listen to her. But she never held a grudge against her. Yes, she was playing with her brothers. But her brothers were foolish enough to be played with.

"I see," Ophelia replied shortly and looked at the grapes, but she didn't have the strength to eat anymore. It was enough. She was used to not eating a lot. You could risk gaining weight since wearing a corset was already painful, a few more pounds only meant that the maid would put it even tighter around your waist, so you would appear always in shape. How torturous...

Suddenly, a red-haired woman appeared in the kitchen. She was quite pale, but she looked healthy. "You must be Ophelia," she said with a small smile. "I'm Jenna, Elena's aunt."

Ophelia slightly bowed her head, not really able to stand up and do a proper bow, "It is a pleasure."

"Why are you here?" Damon asked through gritted teeth. "I thought we agreed that you'll stay—"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Stefan cleared his throat and tilted his head to Ophelia's side, his look clearly telling his brother that he should not cause anything dramatic. Not in front of Ophelia.

"I'm just really thirsty. The blo-" She stopped herself from saying the word as she looked at the scared woman. "I drank it all."

"Already?" Damon's voice heightened. "The fridge was half full!"

Ophelia didn't understand what was going on, so she slowly stood up, holding onto the corner of the table for support. "I'll go get some rest. Could you show me where I can go?" She turned to Stefan and he nodded, extending his hand for her to take.

As they were walking past Jenna, the red-haired woman got a nice whiff of fresh blood. Her eyes quickly darted to Ophelia's legs, sensing that there were fresh wounds and they were slightly bleeding. This was nothing compared to the blood in the bags. The sensation got so overwhelming that she slightly started to shake and that got Ophelia's attention.

Ophelia let out a faint scream, moving backwards into her twin and she covered her mouth as her wide eyes stared into the red-haired woman. Only this time, there were dark veins surrounding her eyes, the pupils widening, looking feral.

But the scream alerted everyone and Jenna quickly turned away, Elena stepped in and placed her hands on her aunt, covering her with her body so that Ophelia wouldn't see that.

"I'm so—so sorry. I don't know what happened—I didn't mean to..." Jenna sobbed behind Elena and Ophelia didn't get an opportunity to react to what has happened as her brothers pushed her away from the kitchen.

She has never seen anything like that in her life. How was it even possible? Her hands were gripping Stefan as she was just standing still. Damon took the initiative and turned her to himself, holding her shoulders: "There are so many things you need to know, but none of them will make sense."

"What—what was that?" It almost reminded her of those stories her brothers tried to scare her with. Of night creatures, of witches, of werewolves.

"Remember the stories mother used to tell us? About all of those mythical creatures that lived amongst us?" Damon asked, not knowing how to break it all better for her.

Ophelia nodded, "Are they—real?"

"Everything that she has told us about is real, Ophelia."

Her mouth shut tight. The room started to spin and her brother's face started to get blurry. She held onto Damon as she pushed her back against the wall, moving her head down. Her breaths quickened and thoughts were going and leaving her head too quickly. Everything didn't make sense, but she wasn't in a position to question it. If all of those horrible stories their mother used to tell them were true, it only meant that this was all real. That she was real. That she ruined something because she just woke up from death. That her life is in danger... That her brothers are one of them. One of the monsters of the night.

She removed her hands from Damon and pushed her head up to face her brothers: "Is that how you both survived?"

Stefan and Damon shared an uneasy look before Stefan spoke up: "The year is 2010 and it has been 146 years since any of us were truly alive."

"Am I—am I also...?" She couldn't finish her sentence as the realisation hit her and she was trying her best to process what is going on.

"No, you're not. We don't know how you are here after such a long time. But we are."

Ophelia covered her mouth, so she wouldn't let a scream. Even if it sounded unreal, she remembers clearly when she saw her brothers' dead bodies before she was sentenced to death. After all this time, Ophelia thought that their mother's stories were supposed to scare them enough not to go wandering in the woods, just some silly tales. But now, everything changed.

"I know you're afraid, but I swear – we won't hurt you," Stefan reassured, not knowing how to help her at this moment. He was the monster, after all.

"I simply..." Ophelia didn't know what she wanted to say, but she covered her eyes and let out a deep breath and moved to the side. "I simply need a moment."

The brothers said nothing and only watched the way their sister slowly moved down the hallway. It will never be the way it was. And even when the times were cruel to her back in the day, at least she was safe. Well, at least in their eyes. Because no one, no one in the Mystic Fall knew how cruel Giuseppe Salvatore could be. Except for Ophelia.

Ophelia was slowly making her way into the living room, where she didn't notice that she bumped into something, no, rather, into someone. She quickly stepped back, her frightened gaze meeting a man she has already seen once. Back in the forest.

"Please forgive me, I was not watching where I was going," she quickly said an apology, already afraid of this man. Now she didn't know if there were any humans left or if this was all just monsters lurking around the corner. She didn't know why this man was here.

"No need for the apology, Ophelia. I am here to help," he stated and she kept her distance away from him but raised her eyes to meet his stare.

He was a tall man, his broad figure was elegantly dressed, not the suits she remembered, but the similarity was left even in... modern times. It wasn't the man that threatened to kill her in the forest, but, rather, the one that appeared later, but she doesn't remember what he was saying back there. It was too overwhelming.

"To help?" Ophelia whispered.

"What are you doing here? You said we still have time," Damon's voice appeared behind her and she flinched as she didn't hear him appear.

"I didn't specify how much time you had. I decided to take matters into my own hands," the man explained and turned to Ophelia. "I've overheard the very poor attempt of your brothers' to help you learn about what's going on. I only ask for a few moments of your time." He extended his hand to her.

Ophelia froze in her spot and she wanted to turn her head around to search for her brother's approval, but she was too afraid to see those dark veins under their eyes. She couldn't bear to see it again. Not now. "I realise I'm in danger."

"You are and you need to know why."

Ophelia hesitated for a moment, but she slowly placed her cold hand in his and nervously met his eyes, nodding slightly. As they walked further into the house, the man turned to face her brothers: "I trust that you won't try to listen to the conversation. I will know if you will try to. Let's not break our fragile peace."

my lovelies,

I'm sorry for the late update! In the next chapter, we'll see the conversation between Elijah and Ophelia—not going to lie, in the first version I kind of shipped them together...

I want to hear your thoughts!

sunny xx