Week 3 - [August 17 - August 23] - Significant Memento - elejah
several significant mementos
@surpriseelejahmonth
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Elijah Mikaelson stood before a frosted glass door, the neatly inscribed plaque “Dr. Elena Gilbert, M.D.” a stark, clinical echo of a life he’d once fleetingly touched. It had been a tough few days, a whirlwind of ancient magic and raw power that had seen Freya saved from Lucien Castle’s monstrous grip. But the victory felt hollow, a grim reminder of the costs. Lucien was gone, reduced to ash, and the world- his world- was slowly recalibrating. Mystic Falls, he knew, was a tad bit different now. A quiet, melancholic whisper on the wind told tales of selfless sacrifice. Damon and Stefan were gone, both having given their lives, with Bonnie’s powerful aid, to ensure the very existence of this unassuming town.
Elijah’s mind, usually a fortress of control, reeled. Standing there, the memories surged, unbidden, like a tide finally breaking its dam. He saw her for the first time, a young woman bearing an uncanny resemblance to Katerina, yet so profoundly different. He recalled the shocking moment of her undaggering him, her hand surprisingly steady. The formal elegance of the Mikaelson Ball, where her simple dress outshone every elaborate gown, and her heartbeat, a rhythmic lullaby that had soothed his ancient soul. He remembered the letter, penned in the quiet despair of a choice he regretted even as he made it, an oath of ‘always and forever’ that had never been truly tested between them, then the poignant, desperate kiss in Willoughby, a moment stolen from a life they couldn’t have. And then, the mayhem. The lies, the betrayals, the unyielding responsibility that had seen him once more follow Klaus to New Orleans, his family always coming first.
His feelings for her, for Elena, had been meticulously suppressed, buried beneath layers of duty and an ancient vow. Family came first. It always had. And Hayley, with her fierce loyalty and the fragile hope of a new future, had been a comfort. A steady presence that helped quiet the echoes of what could have been.
He took a slow, deep breath, the decision made. He’d come to pay his respects, perhaps to offer words of condolence for her profound losses, but seeing her, seeing the life she’d built… it was too much. This was her new chapter, untainted by the supernatural chaos he carried. He turned to leave, his hand already rising to adjust his cuff, a habit born of a thousand exits.
But then, the door clicked.
It swung inward, revealing her standing there, startled. Her eyes, still the same warm pools of chocolate, widened in disbelief. Her hair, once long, now fell in a soft, elegant bob, framing a face that had matured, lines of strength and resilience etched subtly around her eyes. She was beautiful, effortlessly captivating in her sensible scrubs.
"Elijah?"she muttered, her voice a soft, uncertain breath, as if speaking a ghost’s name.
"Elena," Elijah gulped, the single syllable a rough, guttural sound that surprised him. His carefully constructed composure shattered. The centuries-old vampire, the noble one, the stoic brother, felt his dead heart give a peculiar lurch. Every fiber of his being screamed that she was still every bit as captivating as the girl who had unknowingly stolen a piece of his soul. The air between them was thick with unspoken history, with loss, and with a silent, undeniable connection that time and distance had failed to sever.
