Chapter Text
I will love you 'til the end of time
I would wait a million years
Promise you'll remember that you're mine
Baby, can you see through the tears?
(...)
Say you'll remember
I will love you 'til the end of time
Elena waved goodbye to her friends and began the walk home. The early summer evening hummed with life. People lingered over dinners on patios, and dog walkers strolled by. Feeling secure in the populated streets, she reveled in the cool breeze. As she enjoyed her walk, a stray thought snagged on her mind – the two encounters from moments ago.
First, a man, no older than thirty, had stopped her, mistaking her for someone named Katherine. His confusion was evident, and after a brief explanation, he’d mumbled an apology and hurried on. Then, a woman approached, echoing the mistake with a questioning lilt in her voice. Elena had patiently explained once more, receiving a sincere apology in return.
Brushing it off, Elena concluded they had likely enjoyed one too many drinks. Lost in thought, she rounded a corner and collided with a stranger, his chest meeting hers with a solid thud.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth.
"It's really you," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion.
Elena's patience waned. "Look, if you're one of those people who think I'm someone named Katherine, I already—"
He cut her off, his voice a hushed whisper. "Elena." He spoke her name with a reverence that sent shivers down her spine.
Elena took a step back, taking a better look at the man in front of her. He was tall and handsome, with piercing brown eyes and dark hair. He was freshly shaved and dressed in a suit that was probably more expensive than her college tuition, and when she took a deep breath she could smell his cologne - and something else, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it -. He was the kind of man she would definitely look at twice if she saw him in a bar, but she knew for a fact she hadn’t. She would remember it.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked, her voice cautious.
He blinked, seemingly snapping out of a daze, and gave her a slow, appraising look. A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he spoke, his voice barely audible, "I've been looking for you for a thousand years, and yet it seems like I've found you too soon."
Elena's breath hitched. "What?"
Uncertainty flickered across his features before he offered a weak smile. "I apologize, this must sound crazy. But trust me, it will all make sense soon." He took a step forward, and a strange sense of calm washed over her.
"I'm Elijah," he said, his voice regaining its strength. "Promise you’ll remember that."
With a final, enigmatic smile, he pivoted and disappeared down the street, leaving Elena speechless in his wake. Was it all a bizarre dream? With trembling hands, she hurried home.
Once she got home she locked the door and checked it twice before getting into bed, her mind replaying the encounter. The intensity in his eyes, the way he said her name - so… adoringly. Elijah . The name echoed in the quiet night, a single word laden with a promise of a future she couldn't begin to fathom.
____
Elena watched Caroline roll her eyes at Bonnie, another round of the "psychic" debate starting. The aroma of coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air as Elena watched their friend, a determined glint in her eyes.
"For the last time, Bonnie, you're not a psychic!" Caroline scoffed. "Psychics don't exist, and even if they did, predicting Vicky Donovan would overdose isn't magic, it's small-town gossip. Everyone knew she'd relapsed after stumbling out of the Grill a few weeks ago."
"Fine, fine," Bonnie conceded, raising her hands in surrender. "But how about a seance? We ask the spirits directly. If nothing happens, I'll drop the subject."
"Seances, Bon? We've been doing those since we were teenagers, and nothing ever happened," Elena reminded her gently. She didn't want to side with Caroline's bluntness, but Bonnie's newfound obsession with the occult worried her.
Bonnie leaned forward, her voice filled with a strange intensity Elena hadn't heard before. "This time will be different. I've been studying tarot and astral projection. If I can get you to see what I see, you'll have no choice but to believe."
"So you're a medium now?" Caroline drawled, a skeptical eyebrow raised.
A spark of challenge flickered in Bonnie's eyes. "Maybe. Only one way to find out, isn't there?" she countered. There was a challenge in Bonnie’s voice, and Elena feared that she would drop her and Caroline as friends before she dropped the subject.
"Alright," Elena finally conceded, surprising even herself. "Let's settle this once and for all. If nothing happens, then the 'psychic' talk ends here." She raised a brow at her friends, a silent question hanging in the air.
"Deal!" they chorused, and the weight of their decision settled heavily on the brunch table
____
Later that night, Elena and Caroline pulled up to Bonnie's apartment. Elena had brought candles and incense, their fragrant smoke a silent plea to the unknown. Caroline, armed with two bottles of wine and a satchel of sarcastic remarks, sighed dramatically.
"Just… open mind, okay Care?" Elena pleaded before they rang the bell.
"Fine, fine," Caroline conceded with a playful eye roll. "But if this involves chanting or wearing bedsheets, I'm out."
Inside, Bonnie had transformed her living room into a sanctuary. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls as Bonnie hummed a low, haunting melody. An oriental rug lay unfurled in the center, a makeshift altar adorned with crystals and tarot cards. In the middle stood a massage table, a stark contrast to the mystical aura of the room.
"Alright, I'm starving, so let's get this over with," Caroline declared, already uncorking a bottle of wine.
"Agreed," Bonnie said, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Elena, whenever you're ready." She gestured towards the massage table.
Elena raised her eyebrows. "What? Why me?"
"Because, sweetheart," Bonnie explained, her voice taking on a serious tone, "Caroline's skepticism is like a shield. If she experiences something, she'll deny it to save face.” Caroline smiled and raised her glass toward her friend, she couldn’t get angry at something that was so true. “You, on the other hand, have an open mind. You're the bridge we need to the other side."
Elena found herself caught between loyalty and a sliver of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to Bonnie's newfound beliefs. With a resigned sigh, she climbed onto the massage table, the soft blanket a stark contrast to the cold marble floor she imagined the spirit world to be.
Bonnie moved around the room with practiced ease, lighting more candles and weaving the music into a hypnotic tapestry. "Close your eyes, Elena," she instructed. Elena obeyed, feeling her friend's touch as she gently massaged her temples.
"Let go, Elena. I need you to keep your conscience at bay, try to keep your mind as blank as you can," Bonnie's voice was soothing and smooth, washing away the day's anxieties. Elena found herself actually relaxing, her muscles loosening with each passing moment.
Elena couldn’t call herself a believer, but she didn’t dare take a stand against it like Caroline did. In her mind there was always room for possibilities. She tried to follow Bonnie’s indications, but keeping her anxious mind shut was proving difficult. Somewhere deep inside her, she really wanted this to work, but was also extremely afraid it would. However, the more she tried to clear her mind, the more her doubts gnawed at her. Images refused to form behind her closed eyelids, the silence punctuated only by the nagging hum of her skepticism. Minutes bled into what felt like hours. Disappointment began to settle in her chest, a heavy weight threatening to extinguish the flicker of hope.
"Elena," Bonnie's voice whispered, cutting through the darkness. "I need you to visualize yourself leaving your body. Can you do that?" Elena remained silent, unsure if speaking would break the fragile trance. "Can you see anywhere you'd like to go?"
Elena strained to focus, desperately trying to conjure an image, anything that might appease Bonnie's yearning. "Try identifying a guiding source," Bonnie continued. "A light, a voice, a vibration. Follow it." A deep breath escaped Elena's lips. The longer she remained in this inky blackness, the more convinced she became that Caroline might be right after all.
A pang of disappointment lanced through her. Come on, universe , she pleaded silently, show me something. Anything. Anything to keep the fragile flame of Bonnie's belief alive.
She strained to hear, to feel anything resembling a guiding presence. But there was only silence, thick and heavy. Disappointment clawed at her, a cold dread settling in its wake.
“Open your eyes” What? Bonnie couldn’t possibly have given up already. “Come on, open your eyes”. She sighed, defeated.
“I’m sorry, Bon.” When she opened her eyes, the air left her lungs.
Elena sat up, a gasp escaping her lips. Gone was the cozy familiarity of Bonnie's apartment. Instead, she found herself sprawled on a bed of damp leaves, sunlight filtering through a dense canopy of trees. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, sounds of unseen birds chirping in the distance. Panic clawed at her throat.
"Who's Bon?" a voice spoke from behind her. Elena froze, every muscle in her body locked tight. This wasn't Bonnie's voice. It was deeper, richer, tinged with an accent she couldn't place. Slowly, she turned around.
A young man knelt beside her, his dark hair cascading down his shoulders. He wore clothes unlike anything she'd ever seen - roughspun tunic and leggings made of a strange, soft leather. His face, however, was undeniably familiar. The same piercing brown eyes, the strong jawline - it was the man from their encounter a week ago, the one she'd never stopped thinking about.
"Elijah?" she whispered, her voice barely a tremor.
"Do I know you?" he countered, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"I… You… The other night. Where am I?" Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat a drumbeat of rising panic. The air seemed to grow thin, and she fought the urge to hyperventilate.
"You're in Mystardalsfoss," he said gently, "a few miles from the village. Do you remember how you got here?"
Elena shook her head, the truth too outlandish to explain. "I was… It wasn't supposed to work," she stammered, tears welling up in her eyes.
"What wasn't supposed to work?" he pressed, his concern evident.
"The stupid… witchy psychic projection," she blurted out, bracing herself for his reaction.
A flicker of surprise crossed his features, followed by a slow dawning realization. "So this is a witch's doing," he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. "I'll get you help. We will figure this out in no time," he assured her, extending his hand towards her. Elena hesitated. He was a stranger, in a strange place, yet there was a kindness in his eyes that calmed the storm of fear within her. She pinched herself, a desperate attempt to wake herself from this bizarre dream. But the pain was real, and so was the warmth of his hand as he grasped hers, pulling her gently to her feet.
Once she stood, a cool breeze sent shivers down her exposed back. She glanced down, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she realized she was clad only in Bonnie's blanket. Elijah, noticing her discomfort, swiftly removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders.
"Thank you," she mumbled, her voice thick with disbelief.
He offered her his arm, a silent question in his eyes. Elena hesitated for a moment, then nodded gratefully, taking his arm as he began to walk. They walked in silence for what felt like hours, though the sun's position in the sky suggested it was probably closer to two or three miles. Elena winced with each step, the rough ground unforgiving against her bare feet. Despite her discomfort, a sense of wonder bloomed in her chest. The village they were approaching was unlike anything she'd ever seen.
Unlike the neat rows of houses in her hometown, here the dwellings clustered together organically. The low-slung huts, built from rough-hewn logs and topped with thatched roofs, seemed to burrow into the surrounding hillside. Smoke curled from chimneys, carrying the enticing aroma of cooking food. Laughter, the high-pitched shrieks of children at play, drifted through the air. It felt like stepping back in time, a scene straight out of her ancient civilizations class. Were these longhouses? The resemblance was uncanny. A knot of apprehension tightened in her stomach. She was starting to think that it wasn’t a matter of where her astral projection had taken her, but more like when .
"Mother!" Elijah called out, entering the largest of the structures. Elena waited outside, her heart hammering against her ribs. A few moments later, Elijah reappeared, his brow furrowed.
"Please, come in," he beckoned, extending his hand.
Elena approached cautiously, stepping inside the longhouse. A warm fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. A large table with several chairs dominated the central space. A woman with kind eyes and hair streaked with blonde stood beside a bubbling cauldron, her gaze filled with curiosity.
"She's… I'm sorry, what is your name?" Elijah stammered, turning to Elena.
"Elena," she replied, offering a small, uncertain smile.
"I found her unconscious near the lake," Elijah explained to his mother. "She's obviously not from around here. She claims a witch erased her memory."
The woman's brow arched slightly. "Is that so, dear?" Her voice, though gentle, held a hint of skepticism.
“Kind of…” she started. “We were just playing, I didn’t think it would work. She’s not a witch.”
“Who, Elena?” Elijah asked.
“My friend Bonnie. She said she could separate my spirit from my body and that I would be able to travel while my body remained in the room. I was just supposed to take a look from the outside and return to my body” Elena explained the intended purpose of the seance, the memory still hazy in her mind.
“Well, it sounds like your friend not only is a witch, but a very powerful, inexperienced one. She likely guided your body through space while intending to guide your mind instead,” the woman explained, her words sending a jolt through Elena. “Tell me, dear. Did she touch you while she conducted the spell?,” she continued.
Elena remembered Bonnie’s finger tracing circles on her temple and nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure the word spell was accurate.
“Well that explains it then”, the woman murmured.
“Can you help her, mother?” Elijah's voice filled the room, laced with worry.
His mother’s gaze softened. "Perhaps. But first things first. You look like you could use some clothes and some rest. You're probably hungry as well, aren't you?" Elena's stomach rumbled in agreement. They'd begun the seance before dinner, and the entire ordeal had left her famished. "Elijah, honey," she said, turning to her son. "Fetch some of Rebekah's old clothes for our guest." Elijah nodded and disappeared out the back door, returning a moment later with a bundle of garments
"Here, I'll help you get dressed." His mother took the garments from him and Elijah left once more, granting them privacy. "I'm Esther, by the way," the woman said kindly as she helped Elena into a simple green dress and tied the laces on her back.
The dress, though coarse and unfamiliar, felt strangely comforting. As instructed, Elena ate a simple meal of roasted vegetables and what tasted like stewed rabbit. Exhaustion finally claimed her, and she was guided to a raised wooden platform with a thin straw mattress. Lying down, the scratchy straw felt like a palace bed compared to the cold, hard ground.
Despite her weariness, a knot of apprehension tightened in her stomach. This wasn't Bonnie's apartment anymore. This was a different time, a different world entirely. As sleep began to steal over her, a low, mournful howl pierced the night, sending shivers down her spine. Where was she? And what other dangers lurked in this strange new reality?
Elena woke up to the morning sun streaming through the window. She shifted, the mattress feeling strange beneath her weight. The hazy events of yesterday flooded back, a tide of panic rising in her chest. This wasn't her tiny apartment, the worn familiarity replaced by exposed beams and walls adorned with woven tapestries. She was adrift, unmoored, with no idea where - or when - she might be.
"You're awake." A voice, deep and startlingly close, shattered the silence. Elena flinched, scrambling to a sitting position. Elijah stood across the room, his gaze intense. "I didn't mean to frighten you," he offered.
“It’s okay”. Elena replied as she got up, causing Elijah to blush and quickly turn his back to her. Elena looked down on herself. The white shift she had worn to bed might resemble a linen sundress back in her time, but in his perhaps it was too revealing.
“Sorry” now it was her time to apologize. She grabbed the dress she had borrowed the night before and threw it over the shift. “Could you help me?” she asked, unable to tie the laces in the back herself.
Elijah cleared his throat before answering. “Of course”. He turned around and made his way to her, expertly tying her laces.
“You’re good at this” Elena slapped herself mentally. Why did she keep making him uncomfortable?
Elijah let out a light chuckle. “My poor sister was cursed with five brothers, so we all had to learn a lot to make her life easier. Done”. He fondly squeezed her shoulders before taking a step back.
“Thank you”, Elena turned around and gave him a gentle smile, which he returned gladly.
“My mother has left to find some advice from a friend in the next village. She’s a powerful shaman, so hopefully she knows something about your experience that can help us” he explained. “In the meanwhile, would you like to explore the village?”
Elena thought about it for a second. She had continued pinching herself through the night and even tried guiding her mind back in the same way she had done at Bonnie’s, but it all had been pointless. If there was something Esther and her friend could do for her, she had to wait and find out. There was no reason she couldn’t enjoy her unexpected vacation in the meantime. She nodded and Elijah smiled.
“Marvelous. I’ll pack some fruit so you can have breakfast”. He left the room, Elena following shortly behind.
“Where are your siblings?” she asked, curious about the girl who owned the dress she was currently wearing.
“My father took my siblings on a trip to the old world to trade some goods. I stood behind, in case my mother needed protection. My father wasn’t all too happy about it, I must admit”. As he talked, Elijah was wrapping some bread and cheese on a kitchen towel.
“Why is that?” The part of Elena that felt like a foreigner told her not to pry, but that couldn’t stop the part of herself that was a psychology major.
“He believes it is disgraceful for a man to turn down the chance of exploration. He wanted my sister to stay behind but she wasn’t having it either. So I stayed.” He added some fruit to his basket and turned to her. “Follow me”, he commanded, his expression revealing nothing about his feelings towards his father’s beliefs.
They made their way through the forest, the familiar path sending shivers down Elena's spine. The air grew cooler, a faint mist clinging to the leaves as they delved deeper. As they approached a bend, a flash of sunlight glinted off something familiar – a peculiar, moss-covered rock that jutted out from the bank, just like the one by the waterfall back home.
They emerged into a clearing, and there it was. The same cascading torrent she'd seen the day before, but this time, at its source. A magnificent waterfall roared down a sheer cliff face, sending up a spray that shimmered like a million diamonds in the sunlight. Caves, weathered and inviting, dotted the base of the falls.
A wave of déjà vu washed over her, so strong it made her dizzy. This wasn't just familiar, it was... imprinted on her soul. A childhood memory surfaced – a picnic by a waterfall, the scent of pine needles and wet earth, the joyous shrieks of children playing in the spray. It was this place, a thousand years ago.
"What did you say this place is called?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Elijah was kneeling a few feet behind her, settling a colorful blanket over a dry patch of grass.
"Mystardalsfoss," he answered. "It means something like 'valley of the mystic waterfall' in old norse," he explained. "My family named it when we settled here. This waterfall was the first thing we came across."
Mystic waterfall. The words echoed in Elena's head. Mystic waterfall. Mystic Falls. Realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. She wasn't in another place – she was in the same place, a millennium in the past. A curse word flew under her breath, aimed squarely at Bonnie.
Taking a seat next to Elijah, she tried to mask the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. "What's wrong?" he asked, his concern evident.
"I think…" she began, then stopped. The truth felt like a live wire, crackling with danger. Visions of a future twisted and unrecognizable if she changed the past flitted through her mind. Elena swallowed the lump in her throat. "I think I grew up here," she finally ventured, her voice shaky. She studied his reaction. While Elijah’s face showed confusion, there wasn’t a single trace of judgment in it, like he was sure everything she was saying was true. "It sounds crazy, doesn't it?" she continued, her voice gaining strength. "But I don't think I was sent through space. I think I was sent through time. I'm in the same place, but years back." She studied his reaction, searching for a hint of disbelief.
Elijah's brow furrowed in concentration. "But if you're from the future…" he started, then trailed off, lost in thought. "How did you know who I was when I found you?"
Elena thought about it for a second. If she had been sent through space, it wasn’t unlikely a girl from two or three villages away could’ve heard the name of one of the founding villagers. But she had seen way too many movies about time travel to know that revealing too much information was dangerous, for her and for him.
“I didn’t”, she finally answered. “You just reminded me of someone. It’s a pretty common name where I live” Elena didn’t know why, but it pained her to lie to him.
Elijah didn’t seem totally convinced by her statement but let it go nonetheless. They sat in silence, contemplating the water and eating the food he had packed for them. She stole glances at Elijah, his profile etched with a seriousness that contrasted with the playful banter from earlier. Had she planted a seed of doubt with her lie? A sliver of fear snaked its way through her. What if revealing the truth was the only way to get back to her own time, but doing so meant altering the course of history?
"How far in the future do you live?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.
Elena weighed her answer carefully. A lifetime? A millennia? She couldn't risk mentioning anything too specific. "Not much," she said finally. "Maybe a couple of years."
"You're a terrible liar, Elena." There wasn't anger in his voice, more like amusement. A blush crept up her neck.
She sighed, defeated. "A couple of centuries, actually," she admitted, bracing herself for his reaction.
"Centuries?" he repeated, the word echoing in the vastness of the clearing. He studied her for a long moment, searching her face for any hint of deception. Elena held his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest.
"What is it like?" he asked finally, his curiosity outweighing his initial skepticism
Elena thought carefully about what she could tell him. She couldn't reveal anything too futuristic, but she wanted to paint a picture far enough removed from his reality to pique his interest.
"Well, the clothes are different," she began. "For instance, women don't wear dresses like this anymore. We wear trousers, like you guys. And we don't hunt anymore."
His eyebrows shot up at her last statement. "You don't hunt?" he asked, a flicker of disbelief crossing his features. “So you feed only on fruits and vegetables?”
Elena let out a light chuckle. “No. Well, some people do, but that’s a different matter. There are people who raise the stock and then they sell us the meat, the eggs, the milk, everything really”, she explained, carefully avoiding mentioning anything about supermarkets or processed foods.
"I guess it makes life easier," he mused, a thoughtful expression settling on his face. "And what do men do with all their free time if they don't hunt?"
Elena fought back a smile. This was a dangerous game she was playing, but a necessary one. "They work, mostly," she explained. "Some play sports, others create art or music. There are lots of things you can do with your free time." A look of future nostalgia crossed his features, like he was missing a life he knew existed but wouldn’t get to see. “Tell me about your time,” she asked.
"You've pretty much seen it all," he answered. "Men hunt and leave for quests, women take care of the children and make clothes and other things."
"What if a woman wanted to hunt?" she asked, a spark of curiosity igniting in her eyes.
“Why would they want to risk themselves in such a way?” Elijah retorted. Once again, there wasn’t judgment in his voice, he was just trying to understand where she was coming from.
Elena hesitated. This was getting dangerously close to planting ideas in his head. But the truth was bubbling over inside her, threatening to burst forth. "Well, where I come from, we believe that women can do anything a man can," she admitted, bracing herself for his reaction.
Elijah's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “And I suppose men take care of children and tend to domestic duties?”
“You suppose correctly," she answered. For a moment Elena was afraid her words would cause a feminist viking movement and alter the course of history, but she quickly pushed the thought away.
Elijah shook his head and smiled, a hint of disbelief in his eyes. "What a curious world you come from, Elena."
Elena offered a weak smile in return. Curious indeed. And a world she desperately wanted to get back to. She just had to figure out how, without unraveling the very fabric of time in the process.
"Tell me about you," Elena began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you dating anyone?" The question tumbled out before she could stop it. The thought of him returning home to a strapping Viking woman with fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes sent an unexpected jolt of jealousy through her.
Elijah's brow furrowed in confusion. "Datin'?" he repeated, the word unfamiliar to him.
"You know," Elena clarified, her cheeks warming. "When you meet someone and you wonder if there could be more than friendship, so you start spending time together."
Understanding dawned on his face. "Ah, you mean courting," he said with a chuckle. Elena nodded, relief washing over her that he hadn't picked up on the deeper meaning behind her question. "No, I'm not courting anyone at the moment." He hesitated, then added, "Though my mother has been trying to set me up with Astrid, the butcher's daughter."
Elena tried to muster a smile. "Is she… nice?"
"She seems pleasant enough," Elijah replied noncommittally. Then, a blush crept up his neck, mirroring hers. "Are you… being courted, back in your time?"
Elena let out a nervous laugh. "No, nothing like that. I don't have time for all that," she lied unconvincingly. His raised eyebrow told her he wasn't buying it. "Besides," she continued quickly, "courting is a little different in my time."
"How different?" he inquired, leaning closer, his brown eyes holding hers captive.
Elena took a deep breath, the air suddenly thick with unspoken emotions. "It's a lot more straightforward but confusing at the same time. A man can be courting you for months and when you finally ask him about his intentions he says he doesn’t want anything serious. Or he can ignore you altogether while assuring you he likes you. And lest we forget, there’s also the kind of man who courts all of your friends too.” Elena expected him to laugh, but he looked genuinely horrified.
“I apologize on behalf of my gender. It seems centuries of being warriors have damaged our brains, it’s the only possible explanation why a woman such as yourself isn’t swimming in courtship requests.”
Elena felt a blush creep up her cheeks, warmth spreading through her chest. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to find solace in his company, let alone feel a flutter of something more.
"If you were in my time, I would say you're a flirt," she teased him playfully, nudging him with her shoulder.
"You can call me anything you want, Elena," he replied, his gaze locking with hers. There was no mistaking the intensity in his eyes – he was definitely flirting.
Elena pondered the thought for a few moments, trying to convince herself this wasn’t any more different than a summer fling. Deep inside her, she knew it was. She didn’t know what dangers getting involved with him held, but she knew it wouldn’t be harmless.
Lost in the captivating brown of his eyes, Elena barely registered him leaning closer. When his breath brushed against her lips, a jolt of electricity shot through her. She shouldn't. She knew she shouldn't. But the warmth emanating from him, the unexpected comfort of his presence, pushed her doubts aside. He looked her in the eyes once more, a silent question lingering in the air. She nodded.
He closed the distance, his lips meeting hers in a hesitant dance. It was a kiss that spoke of curiosity and a yearning for something neither of them fully understood. As their kiss deepened, a pang of guilt flickered through Elena's mind. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was a visitor, a ghost in his time. But the feeling of Elijah's hand cupping her neck, the way he pulled her closer, it was intoxicating
She shifted her weight so she was on her knees in front of him, making it easier for both of them. His free hand went down to her waist and he pulled her over his lap, her legs dangling over his right side.
Elena traced her fingers through his hair. It was surprisingly soft, considering everything. When the tip of her fingers grazed his neck, she felt the goosebumps forming in his skin.
They broke the kiss, breathless and panting, their cheeks red and hot. She leaned in once more and he met her half way, this time kissing her more fiercely, more surely. She bit his lower lip gently and he moaned. Elena took the opportunity to slide her tongue in his mouth. His hands, which he had kept mostly to himself, found their way up the front of her dress, and he cupped her breasts in them.
Elena moaned and leaned into his touch, but before they could go any further a long, mournful howl echoed through the clearing. Elijah froze, his body tensing. The sound sent a shiver down Elena's spine.
What was that?" she whispered, pulling back slightly.
"Wolves," Elijah replied, his voice low and serious. "They become bolder after dark. We should get going." He kissed her one last time before pulling them both to their feet. A strange sense of disappointment washed over Elena as they left the clearing. The kiss had been a delicious distraction, a temporary escape from the weight of her situation. But the howl was a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked beyond the safety of the village.
As they walked back, Elena slipped her arm through his, seeking a flicker of comfort in his warmth. The path ahead was uncertain, but for now, she would hold onto this stolen moment, this connection that defied time itself.
That night, as she lay in bed, Elena's mind replayed the events of the day, circling back to the first time she'd seen Elijah. Walking down the street, a stranger recognizing her before she even knew him – how was that possible? Astral projection? A time machine? The thought sparked a nervous chuckle, quickly extinguished by the memory of his words: I've been looking for you for a thousand years, and yet it seems like I've found you too soon.
Had he really spent a millennia yearning for a connection he could only grasp through fragmented visions? So many questions that would probably remain unanswered.
Restless, she tossed and turned, her body mirroring the turmoil within. Back in her own time, a cup of tea would usually chase away the night jitters. Here, there was no such comfort.
With a sigh, she rose and tiptoed out of the room, the silence broken only by the soft creak of floorboards. Two unseen doors offered a choice. Hesitantly, she approached the one closest, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. A faint whisper of sound, like the rise and fall of gentle breathing, drifted from the other side.
Taking a deep breath, Elena pushed the door open a crack, wincing at the groan of rusty hinges. "Elijah?" she whispered, her voice barely audible in the darkness. "Are you awake?"
“I am” he answered almost immediately. “Is everything okay?” In the darkness of the room, Elena couldn’t see his face, but his voice was laced with worry.
“Everything’s fine, just… I couldn’t sleep”. Her voice was hesitant. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting him to do, her feet had led her to him before she could even think about it.
A soft rasp echoed through the room, followed by the gentle glow of a fat lamp illuminating Elijah's face. He sat propped up on his bed, the fur covers pooling around his waist, revealing a glimpse of his naked torso. She couldn’t help but gaze at his toned muscles. If he noticed her staring, he was kind enough not to comment on it.
"Come here," he beckoned, his voice a low rumble. "You'll catch a cold standing there."
Almost on autopilot, Elena closed the distance, sinking into the bed beside him. The space was small, forcing them onto their sides, their bodies pressed together in a way that sent shivers down her spine.
"When will your mother return?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Tomorrow afternoon, most likely." His hand reached out, gently cupping her cheek.
"Do you think…" her voice trailed off, a well of unspoken fear and a sliver of desperate hope swirling within. "Will I ever see you again? After I… get back?"
"I don't see why not," he replied without hesitation. "The workings of magic are beyond my full understanding, but I promise you, Elena, I will find a way. Wherever you are, whatever it takes, I will find you again. From the moment you opened your eyes in that clearing, you claimed me – mind, body, and soul. I will search time and space itself to be with you."
The intensity of his words stole her breath. This wasn't the detached world of academia she was used to. This was raw, passionate devotion ripped straight from the pages of a Jane Austen novel. A cynical part of her mind scoffed at the notion, yet another, more hopeful part, dared to believe.
"If you ever come looking for me," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, "I'll be in Oxford, waiting. Promise you’ll remember that." She didn’t fail to notice she was repeating the words he had said the night they met. Or maybe he had been the one repeating them. Perhaps it was reckless, revealing too much, but something deep within her yearned for a connection that defied logic.
He smiled, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Oxford," he repeated, the word a promise on his lips.
Then, he leaned in, and their lips met. The kiss was tender, filled with unspoken emotions and unspoken promises. Neither knew if they could keep those promises, but in that moment, they clung to the hope that somehow, someway, they would find their way back to each other.
Esther returned the next day, just as Elijah said she would. She carried a worn leather satchel brimming with ancient-looking books and a determined glint in her eyes.
"When your friend placed her hands on your temples," Esther explained, her voice raspy with age, "she anchored your entire being to the procedure. It was supposed to be just your mind that traveled. The magic in her fingertips acted as a tether, pulling your whole body through time."
“So you just have to replicate the same process without touching her?” Elijah asked.
“On the contrary. I need to touch her, so that I can send her back, body and soul,” her mother corrected. Elena wasn’t sure she understood anything, but she still hopped on the dinner table as instructed.
“Close your eyes, Elena,” Esther instructed. Before she did so, she took one last look at Elijah. He nodded, his face trying to mask the sadness they both felt at such a sudden goodbye, leaving their feelings untasted and unexplored.
“I’ll find you” he mouthed. She nodded at him, and closed her eyes.
Esther’s fingers were cold against her temples, and Elena took a deep breath. She tried to keep her mind blank, visualize herself back at Bonnie’s place. She tried to find the guiding source, just like the first time.
"Elena… Elena…" a faint voice echoed in her ears, pulling her closer. She strained to reach it, a desperate yearning blooming in her chest.
"Elena!" She jolted awake, heart pounding against her ribs, almost falling off the rickety massage table. Bonnie stood above her, eyes wide with concern.
"Did it work? Did you see anything?"
Elena sat up, gasping for breath “How long was I out?” she asked, panting.
“About twenty minutes. We thought you had fallen asleep,” Caroline answered. Intrigued laced her usual skepticism.
Elena took a moment to gather her thoughts. The images of her time with Elijah – the warmth of the fire, the feel of his hand in hers – flickered through her mind. It felt like a dream, a fantastical adventure ripped from the pages of a book.
"You have no idea the mess we've made, Bon," she finally said, a small smile playing on her lips. As she looked around the familiar living room, a strange sense of longing washed over her. On the table, tucked beside her phone, lay a single object – a smooth, polished stone unlike any she'd ever seen. A memento from a life that might have been, or perhaps a reminder that some connections transcended time itself.