#foundersball

Lockwood Mansion, 1864

The music had already started by the time she appeared.

Vanessa descended slowly, the deep red of her dress catching the candlelight with every movement. It wasn’t overly elaborate, but it didn’t need to be. She wore it like it belonged to her, like the entire room was something she could walk through without ever truly being part of it.

At the edge of the crowd, Stefan Salvatore forgot whatever he had been thinking about before. He watched her reach the bottom of the stairs, watched as people greeted her, tried to draw her into conversation. She smiled when she had to, nodded when it was expected, but there was a distance in her eyes that didn’t quite match the moment.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he was already walking toward her. “Would you like to dance?”

Vanessa turned at the sound of his voice, her expression unreadable for a second before something softer slipped through. Not surprise—more like recognition of something she hadn’t expected to feel.

“I don’t even know your name,” she said.

“Stefan.”

A pause.

“Vanessa,” she replied. No last name. 

The music carried them easily, the steps familiar, practiced. Around them, the rest of the room blurred into movement and color, but neither of them seemed particularly interested in anyone else.

“You’re not from Mystic Falls,” Stefan said after a moment.

“Is it that obvious?”

“You stand out.”

That earned the smallest hint of a smile. “That’s usually not a good thing.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing either.”

Vanessa glanced at him then, really looking at him, as if trying to figure out whether he meant it.

“You say that now.”

“And later?”

Her gaze drifted briefly across the room before returning to him. “Later, people tend to realize they were wrong.”

Stefan huffed out a quiet laugh. “You don’t seem very optimistic.”

“I’m realistic.”

There was something in the way she said it—something that felt heavier than the conversation should have been—but it didn’t push him away. If anything, it made him lean into it more.

“You talk like you’ve seen more than most people here.”

“I have.”

It wasn’t said arrogantly. Just… simply.

Stefan didn’t question it. He just nodded, like he believed her without needing proof.

And that, more than anything, caught her off guard.

Time slipped.

One dance turned into another, and another, until the music began to fade and people slowly started to leave. The night softened, the energy settling into something quieter, more real.

Outside, the air was cooler.

Stefan walked beside her as the last of the guests filtered out, neither of them rushing to say goodbye.

“I’m glad I asked you to dance,” he said.

Vanessa let out a small breath, something almost like a laugh. “So am I.”

There was a pause then, the kind that felt like it was leading somewhere.

“We’ll see each other again,” Stefan added, like it was already decided. “Hopefully.”

Hopefully.

The word lingered.

Vanessa looked at him for a moment, something conflicted flickering behind her eyes. She could say yes. She could let him believe it.

“Vanessa.” The voice cut in smoothly. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was, but she did anyway.

Elijah Mikaelson stood a few steps away, composed as ever, but there was an urgency beneath it. One that didn’t belong in a night like this. Behind him, Klaus Mikaelson and Rebekah Mikaelson lingered, already watching.

Something was wrong.

Vanessa’s expression shifted instantly. “What is it?” she asked quietly.

“He’s here,” Elijah said, just as quietly. “Mikael.”

The word alone was enough.

Everything changed in an instant.

They didn’t waste time.

Running was second nature by now. Plans didn’t need to be discussed in detail—they were understood. Leave before dawn. Don’t stay long enough to be found.

Vanessa stood just outside the estate for a moment longer than the others, her eyes drifting back toward where Stefan still stood.

She could tell him. She could walk back, grab his hand, ask him to come with her. For a split second, the idea felt real. And then it didn’t. It would be dangerous. For him. For her. For all of them. “I’ll be there in a moment,” she told Elijah.

He studied her for a second, like he knew exactly what she was thinking, before giving a small nod. “Don’t be long.”

Klaus said nothing, but there was something knowing in the glance he gave her. Rebekah just looked… sympathetic. And then they stepped away, leaving her alone.

Stefan hadn’t moved far. He turned when he heard her footsteps, something hopeful flickering across his face. “Everything okay?”

Vanessa stopped a few steps away from him. She wanted to memorize this. The way he looked at her, like nothing complicated existed yet. Like the world was still simple.

“I have to go,” she said.

“So soon?”

She nodded.

“For how long?”

That was the question, wasn’t it?

Vanessa forced a small smile. “I don’t know.”

Stefan frowned slightly, like he didn’t quite accept that answer. “Then… I guess I’ll just have to wait.”

The certainty in his voice made something twist in her chest.

“Maybe,” she said softly.

It wasn’t a promise. It couldn’t be.

By the time Stefan stepped away, the street had already begun to empty. That’s when he noticed them.

Three figures, not far off.

One of them—Klaus—was unmistakable, even in the dim light.

Stefan hesitated before approaching.

“Hey,” he called out. “Vanessa said she had to leave...do you know where she’s going?”

Klaus turned slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment before something almost amused flickered through. “And why would you like to know that?”

Stefan exhaled lightly. “Because I’d like to see her again.”

A beat of silence. Then Klaus stepped closer.

“I’m afraid,” he said, voice calm, almost pleasant, “that’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”

Stefan frowned. “I don’t—”

Klaus’s gaze locked onto his, "And you won’t." His pupils constricting as he spoke.

“You will forget,” Klaus continued, his tone smooth, controlled, “meeting us tonight. You will forget my sister. You will forget the dance, the conversation… all of it.”

Stefan’s expression faltered, confusion slipping into something distant.

“You won’t remember Vanessa,” Klaus finished.

By the time Stefan blinked again, the street was empty.

The night felt… normal.

Like nothing had happened at all.

He glanced back at the estate, faintly distracted, as if trying to recall something just out of reach.

But whatever it was—

Mystic Falls, 2010

Mystic Falls hadn’t changed as much as it should have.

There were new faces, new routines layered over old ones, but the town itself still carried the same stillness—the kind that made everything feel deceptively normal. Vanessa noticed it the moment she stepped onto the street, the way people moved without urgency, unaware of how much had happened here, how much always seemed to happen here.

She hadn’t planned on stopping anywhere. The intention had been simple: come in, observe, figure out what Klaus was doing before he even realized she was back. The Mystic Grill came into view sooner than she expected and ulled her in before she gave it much thought.

Vanessa moved through the space without really seeing it, her attention turned inward, thoughts circling the same point over and over again. Klaus didn’t do things without reason. If she was here, it meant he was too—or would be soon. And if he had already been in town long enough to settle into whatever plan he was building, then she was already behind.

That didn’t sit well with her. The bar wasn’t crowded. A few stools were occupied, a few left open, “Do you mind?” she asked, her voice even, already reaching for the back of the stool.  Stefan glanced up, momentarily pulled from whatever thoughts had been occupying him. “No, go ahead.”

She sat, the motion automatic, her attention already drifting elsewhere before the moment had a chance to settle. The bartender came by, and she ordered something without really thinking about it, her focus slipping back into the spiral she hadn’t quite managed to quiet since arriving.

Beside her, Stefan glanced sideways, briefly, studying her without being obvious about it. She didn’t seem particularly interested in anything around her, her focus turned inward, distant. Not unusual. People got lost in their own thoughts all the time. 

There was something about her presence that lingered. Like he should recognize it. He didn’t. “You’re new here,” he said after a moment, the words casual enough to pass as conversation.

Vanessa held his gaze for a second longer than necessary, something unreadable passing through her eyes before it was gone again. “Something like that,” she replied.

Stefan nodded, though that didn’t quite answer anything. “Passing through?”

“Something like that.” It wasn’t an answer either.

Vanessa turned back towards the counter just as her drink was set in front of her. Her fingers curled around the glass, grounding herself in something real, something present, because whatever this was—it wasn’t coincidence. And there was only one person who would go that far to erase something so completely.

Klaus Mikaelson.

Of course.

Mikaelson Mansion

She moved through the halls without calling out, her footsteps soft against the polished floors, her gaze steady as it traced over familiar details. Nothing had changed—and yet something had.

“You’ve never been particularly subtle.”

The voice came from behind her, smooth, almost conversational. Vanessa didn’t turn immediately. “Funny,” she said evenly, “I was just thinking the same about you, Nik.” Slowly, she faced him. A faint smile tugged at his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And yet here you are, walking into my home uninvited. I assume this isn’t a social call.”

Vanessa held his gaze, unwavering. “What did you do?” For a moment, Klaus said nothing. He just watched her, like he was deciding how much he wanted to entertain the question. “That’s rather vague,” he replied at last.

“Don’t.” Her voice didn’t rise, not yet. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Klaus tilted his head slightly, studying her more closely now. “Enlighten me.”

“Stefan.” 

Klaus exhaled slowly, almost bored, though his gaze remained fixed on her. “Ah.” Not denial. Not confusion. Just acknowledgment. "You compelled him.” It wasn’t a question. Klaus didn’t answer immediately, but he didn’t need to. The silence did it for him.

“You don’t get to do that,” she said, quieter now, but no less steady. “You don’t get to decide what I remember for me—or what he does.”

Klaus’s expression hardened, just slightly. “I removed a distraction.” Vanessa let out a breath, a humourless laugh. “A distraction.”

“Yes.” His tone remained calm, controlled, like this was the most reasonable thing in the world. “A human who would have inevitably become a liability. I simply acted before that liability had the chance to take root.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “You mean before I had the chance to decide whether it mattered.”

Klaus took a slow step forward, closing some of the distance between them. “You’re far too intelligent to pretend you don’t understand the situation, Nessa. We are hunted. We are targeted. Attachments like that—” he gestured vaguely, dismissively, “—are weaknesses.”

“Is that what you told yourself when Elijah compelled Aurora?” she asked.  “You remember how that felt,” she said, her gaze locked onto his. “You remember what it did to you.”

“And now you’ve done the same thing,” Vanessa finished softly. “To me. To Rebekah. You don’t get to call that protection, Nik. That’s hypocrisy.”

“You presume quite a lot,” he said at last, his voice quieter now, but edged with something far less forgiving. Vanessa didn’t step back. That was the mistake.

“Do I?” she asked. “Or did I just say something you didn’t want to hear?”  And there it was. The line. The one she shouldn’t have crossed.

“I’m not—” She didn’t get to finish. The movement was fast—faster than the argument, faster than the realization. The impact of the blade driving into her chest stole the breath from her lungs before she even fully registered what had happened. Her body went rigid, her hands instinctively grasping at him for balance.  Her knees gave out. Klaus caught her before she hit the ground.

For a moment, everything felt distant. Disconnected. Like her body was no longer entirely her own.

“Rest, Vanessa,” he said quietly, his voice almost gentle in a way that made it worse. “You’ll thank me for it later.”