❝the dinner party, pt. two❞

HE HAD TO FEED TODAY. He'd let himself nearly desiccate and his strength was at an all time low. He couldn't deny how dependent he'd gotten on the vampiric perks, but they proved to be hard to live with simply because he rarely left his home to feed.

If he could stand the bitter taste, he'd feed on animals and stay in the comfort of his forested prison, but it's far too foul for his liking.

So today he's got decent clothes on to go out into town, and he's waited for the sun to set even though he's got his lapis lazuli on his finger, he doesn't want to risk being recognized by anyone. The moonlight is scarce in town anyways because they're surrounded by trees so he's got enough shadows to hide in as he feeds.

He never kills them, it would cause too much of a fuss, and as of right now he's not looking to move again. It's taken him long enough to consider the empty cabin a version of "home" and he's not trying to uproot all over again.

He heads down the worn path of grass that leads him to the dirt road into town. He doesn't care to use a horse, or his abilities to quicken the trip because he finds the brisk September air is making him feel a little more alive than he has recently.

Damon strolls, listening to the nightlife from miles away with his head tilted down at his feet as they stalk along the gravel. Wolves howl out their calls out to their pack and it makes Damon shiver– the sound had always unnerved him.

He hears the first sign of life when he passes the bar. It's lit up with lanterns and candles and yellow light shines through the dusty windows.

It makes him think of the bar he and Rosemary danced in after their wedding, when Ro had gotten up on the bar and twirled around like nothing could ever bring her down again. The memory makes his heart ache, and he quickly tears his gaze away from the bar to the drunk men crowding it.

They were singing unintelligible words to a song that didn't exist, too lost in their drink induced haze to see Damon approach them with growing fangs.

He fed quickly and compelled the men to go home after healing them all from their wounds. He didn't want to drag it out any longer than he needed to.

As he wiped his mouth off with his sleeve, he stiffened, hearing someone come up behind him.

He turns around slowly, sighing frustratedly at the thought of having to fight some human or compel another innocent person to forget of his existence.

"Damon Salvatore, I presume?"

Damon's face falls into a look of fear and he takes a step away from the man watching him knowingly. Brief fright freezes him at the thought of the man being someone from Mystic Falls that's come to kill him. Then he tells himself if they're coming for him, they've probably already gotten to Stefan.

If that is the case, Damon won't put up much of a fight. He may not have many positive feelings for his brother right now, but he is his only remaining family.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Mr. Salvatore." The man speaks eloquently with a hint of firmness, and Damon eyes him warily.

"Then what are you here for? I've done no harm to these people."

The man nods again, a knowing look on his face that grates at Damon's nerves. I've heard about you, from a..." The man huffs a laugh like he knows a secret that Damon doesn't. "Friend."

"I don't have many friends these days." Damon shakes his head, still tense at the apparent familiarity the stranger has with him. "If you know my name, don't you think it's only fair for me to know yours?"

"I suppose it is," The man concedes with a short nod. "Elijah Mikaelson."

The name doesn't sound familiar in any way, and Damon can't help but wonder what friend they may have in common.

"I meant what I said, Mr. Salvatore. I'm not here to hurt you, I'm simply doing a favor for someone I owe."

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me who?"

Elijah shakes his head, a solemn look passing over his face. "I'm afraid not. But there will come a time where you'll know."

Damon frowns, his tense shoulders dropping in defeat. "I won't be here forever."

"But you have forever to live," The man begins to walk away, his hands folding respectively in front of him. "I'll find you eventually, Mr. Salvatore."

Elijah disappears as soon as he came, and Damon lets out a long sigh.

Until he knew what Elijah was doing, and what he wanted from Damon, he'd think of him as a ghost. It was easier that way, as everyone else in his life haunted him just the same.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

"I hate to break it to you, Damon, but according to Elijah, your family is so not a founder of this town." Jenna poured more wine, a buzzed smile quirking at her lips.

Damon blinked, feigning surprise as he looked to Elijah. "Do tell,"

Elijah paused, biting back a sarcastic retort that would undoubtedly give away the familiarity between them. Sat in between Rose and Alaric, Elijah's gaze drifted to where Damon sat at the head of the table on the other side of Rose. The slight symbolism of it wasn't lost on him, and his lips quirked unnoticeably.  "Well, as I mentioned to Jenna earlier, a faction of settlers migrated from Salem after the witch trials in the 1690s. Over the next hundred years, they developed this community where they could feel safe from persecution."

Jenna makes an amused hum and looks at Alaric. "Because they were witches." She says the word mockingly, unaware that only she and Andie are missing the truth in Elijah's words.

Andie shakes her head in disbelief as she looks at her friend. "Yeah, but there's no tangible proof that there were witches in Salem."

"Andie's a journalist. Big on facts." Damon's flat voice doesn't go unnoticed by the table, but Elijah continues on.

"The lore says that there was this wave of anti-witch hysteria. It broke out in the neighboring settlement, so these witches were rounded up."

He makes unwavering eye contact with Jenna across the table, aware of Alaric tensing beside him at the rapt attention she was giving Elijah. "They were tied to stakes in a field together and, uh, burned. Some say you could hear the screams for miles around us. They were consumed by the fire– could you pass the–"

He nods to the salt shaker in front of Alaric and Jenna quickly picks up the conversation again. "I, uh, wouldn't repeat any of this to the Historical Society."

Andie and Jenna share a short chuckle, and Damon sits up, staring pointedly at Elijah. He forgot how well Elijah could put up a front, but he figured some people probably thought the same about him, too.

"It's starting to sound a little like a ghost story to me," John's smug voice spoke suddenly, and Damon's hand twitched in annoyance as he reached for his wine desperately.

Rose, who'd been silent for most of the night, noticed his ire and gave him a look of concern. He shook her off, though, the silent conversation coming easily between the two. They'd grown close quickly, and he knew he'd thank Rosemary for it as soon as he could. If she hadn't gotten Klaus' blood for her, Damon would have lost another friend.

Damon quickly interrupted before John could continue, finding that his temper was already teetering on the edge of fatal. "So, why do you want to know the location of these alleged massacres?"

As easy as it was to put on an act around everyone else, he was sitting beside two people that knew him better than anyone else. Despite his business with the Mikaelsons, they'd been allies for long enough they were friends now. Perhaps family, as Damon was well versed in the fact that the Mikaelsons didn't care for any others besides ones they considered such. And at the very least, Damon was comforted by the fact that Rosemary was considered their family, even if he wasn't. 

Elijah resists another quip back, biting his tongue in respite. Even with their longstanding act of hatred, he finds it hard to not speak to Damon as he normally does when the vampire is being his usual self.

Alaric gives Damon a warning look over Elijah's head as the Original hides an amused look. Damon shrugs, feigning ignorance.

"You know," Elijah finally speaks, clearing his throat a bit. "A healthy historian's curiosity, of course."

Damon gives the Original a knowing look, smirking at the chuckle that Elijah stifles. "Of course, of course." He pauses slightly and looks at Rose, who's barely containing her own laughter. "How's the food, Rosebud?"

She gives him a polite smile, and swallows around the bite she'd taken. "Wonderful, Damon. It's been a long time since I've had a good home cooked meal." 

Jenna frowns at the girl confusedly. "Why not?"

Rose falters for a moment, but quickly recovers. "I, uh, moved around a lot. I lost most of my family fairly young and moved around a lot. I, um, I had a brother but he was killed recently."

"Oh, my god, I am so sorry," Jenna frowns at the pretty brunette. "You probably don't want to talk about it over dinner."

Rose shakes her head, giving the girl a slight shrug. She could almost feel bad about serving her on a platter to Klaus if she weren't . "He was involved in bad business. I suppose it was a mistake of his own."

The silence sits heavy at the table for a moment, and Rose jumps slightly when a calloused palm shifts underneath the table and rests on her jean clad thigh. She glances up at Elijah, sharing a brief glance with the Original who gives her a barely there nod paired with a smile that she returns.

Damon watches the interaction with furrowed eyebrows, but he pushes his confusion away for the moment. "Does anyone care for some cognac? I have a bottle I've been saving for ages."

Alaric sighs. "None for me, thanks. Nine bottles of wine is my limit."

Damon stood, and gestured to Andie who followed suit, the dilation of her pupils showing clear as she smiled politely.

"The gentlemen should take their drinks in the study,"

Elijah cleared his throat and stood as well, dragging his hand away from Rose. "I have to say, the food was almost as wonderful as the company."

Andie smiled, pleasing at Elijah's flattery. "I like you,"

Elijah gave Alaric a smug look as he followed Damon to the study, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw John Gilbert approach the history teacher with an obvious look of hostility.

Elijah met Damon's inquisitive stare, and gave him a short nod that the raven haired man mirrored. It seemed their plan was going perfectly.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

author's note; i love writing any form of tension can you tell

edited and published; 4.6.22.

- liz