chapter three.
( more ghost than girl )
S2E3 — bad moon rising.
THERE WAS A TIME IN EDEN OLIVEIRA'S LIFE where she would've longed for immortality. It was certainly alluring — the possibility of everything, to do every dream job, to travel the world and see every continent, it was endless. Along with the pros of being a vampire, the mere eye contact she held with someone was so transfixing, Eden had all the capabilities in the world, all in the palm of her hands.
In the beginning, she revelled in it. She fed until her heart's content, slaughtered hundreds, even with her humanity on. She compelled those to do whatever she pleased, she hosted parties, and played the wonderful role of a princess from overseas, all the while killed those who were innocent, a smirk teasing her lips as she did so.
She was reckless — unperturbed by the possibility of being discovered, her blood-crazed frenzy distracting her from the more significant things in life. And, then, she came down from the high. The aftermath. Guilt clouded her senses, and when she looked in the mirror, Eden didn't see the witch, the young girl who was obsessed with raising flowers to life, her only sin against the balance of nature. Instead, she saw a murderer — an insane, shell of the person she once was, and she loathed it. It wasn't who her parents had raised her to be, nor was it the morals she kept close; it was a stranger who harboured her face.
It was almost a recurring theme: the shame would be far too much to keep buried within, so she'd flip the switch, easing her of her woes. Then, she'd participate in the most wicked of crimes, carefree and untroubled, and then, after a few years ( perhaps decades, even ), she'd turn it back on, only to feel more repentance than she did prior.
For over seven centuries, Eden had lost count the amount of time she had turned her humanity off, finding it much more simpler to roam through the eternal life she had been burdened with — she found joy in ripping someone's carotid out when she didn't care. In fact, she even smiled as she did so.
So, yes, the thought of immortality was certainly enticing. She understood the appeal of it all — the desire to live forever, to be freed of whatever inner turmoil one may have harboured, and the endless opportunities that came alongside the immortality. Yet, in reality, Eden figured that letting herself die that day was what truly should have happened, without the loophole of vampires. She should've sacrificed herself, let herself bleed out on the ground and downright refused to accept the devil's blood, and have her life end at the mere age of twenty-three, a breeze of the past.
Yet she didn't. And, now, she was a rather volatile ( or, murderous, some would say ) vampire who had gotten herself stuck in the midst of small-town dramas because she was incapable of keeping her nose out of the things.
Eden couldn't help contain her surprise when Elena Gilbert outstretched a hand of invitation to the Salvatore Boarding House, where the two, vampire brothers lived with each other, a dire conversation in need of being discussed. Stupidly, Eden had initially thought that perhaps she was being asked there to offer their thanks for her support the previous night in which she had recklessly revealed the alternate side to herself. However, she'd soon come to learn that there was always something underlying when it came to asking for simple favours in Mystic Falls.
She felt extremely out of place as she stepped inside the large, and, unable to deny, beautifully structured home of the Salvatores, eyes raking in the high ceilings and wood-work that gave off an old, rustic type of vibe to it. Damon Salvatore glared her at she stepped inside, no invitation needed to enter the home. "Oh," he practically sneered, lip curling at the sight of her. "It's you."
"It's a pleasure to see you again too, Damon," she smiled, brushing past him and strolling down to the front room, where Elena and Stefan Salvatore sat, rather close together. She made a pointed effort to not look his way, incapable of crumbling beneath his piercing, crystalline stare. "Lovely house. Although, I don't remember it the last time I was here."
"You've been here before?" Elena's inquisitive tone broke the somewhat tense quietness that invaded them. Eden glanced up, and met her doe eyes.
"A long time ago," she replied, almost ominously, sitting down without an invitation. She never really was one for manners, anyway.
"What brought you here?" Stefan asked, and Eden couldn't help but feel she was being ripped of her life, her information, although rather obviously.
"What's this, an interrogation?" she quipped, slightly joking, slightly serious. When no one twitched even a lip in mirth, Eden sighed and replied, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, "I was visiting a . . . friend. It was only brief — I had business elsewhere."
Stefan nodded, seemingly pleased with her answer, whilst Eden impatiently awaited the reasoning for her unexpected visit, none of them wishing to elaborate further, "So . . . what's going on? Why did you need me here?"
"We're waiting on someone else," Damon bluntly replied, his stare not even sweeping over her as she spoke. Eden, satisfied, sat back, and was unable to mask the feeling of being rather unwanted. Despite Elena's invite ( which, now, she came to realise that was only for her advantage, not the willingness to get to know the Oliveira — which, inwardly, hurt ), there was something in the air, something that gave her the inclination that the moment she had passed over whatever she knew, she'd be tossed aside, not a thought spared for her. It wasn't a new feeling, but, all the same, her chest ached with the familiar memories.
A knock ricocheted through the house, and Damon practically leapt from his seat to the front door, opening it with a sigh of relief, "Ric, hey come in. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, bourbon, bourbon in your coffee?"
The man — Ric, Eden assumed — declined dutifully, headed straight for the topic at hand, one that Eden was still unaware of. As he stepped foot into the living room, beneath the dim glow of the chandelier above, Eden took in his features: he was older, late thirties, she guessed, and held flecks of grey running through his brunette locks. He looked weathered — as though he'd already seen too much in his life.
"Elena said you needed my help," he commented, before gaze latching onto Eden, mixture of confusion taking over his features. Damon, sighing, filled in the gaps, itching to deal with the issue that was troubling them all.
"Alaric, Eden, Eden, Alaric. Vampire and History teacher," he briefly explained, and Eden smiled gently at him.
"Nice to meet you," she greeted politely, before her hands clasped together, sincerity taking ahold of her face. "So, what's the problem you've all got?"
"We were, uh, hoping you — the both of you — could shed some light on the Lockwood family," Stefan wondered, perplexing Eden and Alaric with the odd request.
"Why would I know anything about the Lockwoods?" Alaric retorted, brows knitted together.
"Well, you wouldn't," Damon piped up, smirking. "But your dead — not-dead vampire wife might."
Eden's brows rose, "Your wife's a vampire?"
"Was my wife, not anymore," Alaric reiterated, and Eden could sense the hostility in his voice, a clear inclination he wasn't fond of the subject.
"Isobel's research, from when you guys were at Duke together," Elena elaborated, yet Eden suspected Alaric didn't need any help in the past life he so clearly longed to forget.
"You had said she spent years researching this town," stated Stefan, his phrase less like a question.
"Isobel's research here in Mystic Falls was rooted in folklore and legend," Alaric explained, eyes locked firmly on his hands. "At the time, I thought most of which was fiction."
"Like that amazing vampire story," Damon remarked, and Alaric huffed a small laugh.
Elena pursued on, asking, "Aside from vampires, what else?"
"The lycanthrope," Alaric responded.
"Wait . . . like werewolves?" Elena was uncertain, sitting up straighter.
"No way," Damon shot it down instantly. "Impossible. Way too Lon Chaney."
"Is it?" Stefan retorted, and Damon narrowed his eyes at his younger brother.
"I've been on this planet hundred-and-sixty-some-odd years, never come across one," he justified, rolling his eyes.
"And I've been on this planet for seven hundred years, and I can tell you this — it's not so much absurd as you'd think," Eden chimed in, her knowledge from the previous seven centuries having offered her the gift of incredible intelligence, only something one could dream of.
"If werewolves exist," Damon began, neck ticking uncomfortably at Eden's defiance of his disbelief, "where the hell are they?"
Pushing past, Alaric questioned, "Why suspect the Lockwoods?"
"Vervain didn't effect the mayor on Founder's Day, but the Gilbert device did," Damon replied. "And it effected his son, Tyler."
"And at the school carnival, his Uncle Mason exhibited inhuman behaviour when he fought one of the carnival workers," Stefan carried on. "It suggested some sort of supernatural entity."
"We were hoping that Isobel's research could help us figure out what it is," Elena's tone signified something of pleading, desperation to get to the bottom of whatever was causing her troubles. "And, Eden . . . you've been alive for God knows how many years. The things you know . . . well, it could really be of use."
"It doesn't matter what I know," the Oliveira pointed out. "It all depends on whether you want to listen." Eden, very much someone who lacked subtlety, shot the eldest Salvatore an expression, one in which he scowled at in a petulant response.
"Well, all of her things are still at Duke," Alaric revealed. "I mean, her office is still there. She's technically still missing."
"So can we get access to it?" Damon asked, hopeful. Alaric inclined his head, shrugging in response. Damon inhaled sharply, a new, tense stature to his shoulders. "Ric, we need to know what we're dealing with. If this wolf-man thing is true, I've seen enough movies to know it's not good. It means, Mason Lockwood is a real-life Lon Chaney, and that little Tyler punk may just very well be Lon Chaney. Jr. Which means, Bela Lugosi, meaning me, is totally screwed."
☆
Ever-so reluctantly, Alaric had agreed to head to Duke to rifle through this-Isobel's belongings, which Eden figured was a major invasion of one's privacy, but she wasn't one to pry — considering she was the outsider and all. Which, to be fair, was understandable — they didn't trust her yet, and Eden had really given them a reason too.
( Except selflessly reveal the secret she'd harboured for seven centuries all for a girl she'd never met before, who was killed by their so-called friend, and hadn't even received a 'thank you' since then, but, that was about it really. )
Taking the dispersing of the group as a signal to leave, Eden rose from her seat, rather enthusiastically, and hoped she was able to slip out of the door without it going noticed. Yet, alas, fate clearly had other plans for her, much to Eden's dismay.
Damon, in a blur, appeared before her, quirking a brow at her quick movements, "Now, not so fast. Where do you think you're going?"
"Away from you," she retorted rapidly, the words like venom spitting from her mouth. "I gave you what I knew, and you didn't believe me. My job here's done."
Damon tutted, "No, it isn't. All you said was that werewolves exist. So —" his hand gestured to the leather-covered sofas, "— sit. I have some questions."
"And if I don't?" Eden fired back, arching a brow.
Damon clicked his tongue, a faux look of pondering taking over his chiseled face, "Well, then, I guess I'd have to kill you."
Eden held her stare with Damon's cerulean eyes for a fleeting moment, before a splutter of giggles escaped her, her hand reaching up to smother them. "I'm sorry — I shouldn't laugh, really. It's just —" she stepped closer, the laughter dying from her face, and the narrowing of her eyes warned Damon that she wasn't one to be taunted with, "— I could rip your heart out before you'd even move a foot in my direction." Damon's jaw clenched, and regardless of how much he wanted to break his gaze away from the Oliveira's, he found it impossible — as though she were hypnotising him. "Watch your back, Damon," she cautioned, smirking, "before my hand is in it."
His jaw ticked and Damon's tongue prodded against the inside of his mouth, before answering, "Noted."
Eden smiled sweetly — too sweet for someone with murderous tendencies. "Right, well, what did you want to know?" Taking a seat on the sofa, Eden crossed one leg over the other, and pursed her lips. She thoroughly enjoyed it when people — especially men — took her promises to heart.
"When were you turned?" Damon was quick with his questions, standing rather than sitting, and Eden supposed it was to assert a type of dominance over her, which she found rather humorous, but concealed the amused gleam to her eyes.
"1322," she replied, bored. "Why does that even matter? What, don't believe me?"
Dismissive of her queries, Damon carried on, "Who turned you?"
Eden huffed a small laugh — wouldn't he love to know. "It doesn't matter," she shrugged, averting her gaze. "He's dead."
Damon's gaze narrowed, dubious of her cagey demeanour, but brushed it away, certain he'd rip the truth from her sooner or later. "Why are you here? Because," he sat down on the edge of the arm, right beside Eden, who held back a shiver of revulsion, "I can't seem to fathom any reason for your arrival here, except from any other . . . ulterior motives you may have."
"Oh, I'm just here to help you with your problem," Eden shrugged, sighing. "Seems you've already lost before you've begun."
"Problem?" Damon arched a brow in curiosity.
"Yeah, you know — like yay-height, curly hair, vindictive bitch type?" Eden described, smirking when a glower danced across Damon's face.
"You know Katherine," it came out more of a statement, but, regardless, Eden nodded.
"Well, when I knew her, she went by Katerina, but, yes, I do," Eden answered. "Dare I say, better than you?"
"How?" Damon fired, his voice straining by the second.
"We go way back," she replied, finding Damon's troubled stance quote enjoyable to watch. "And when I figured out where she was, well, I thought it was due time for a reunion. It has been many years."
"I don't believe you," Damon spat after a moment of silence.
"I never said you did," Eden retorted, a sneer teasing her lips. "You asked, I gave. Now, are we done? I have things to do."
"Yeah, like coming with us to Duke," Damon uttered, and Eden blanched.
"Uh — no," she laughed incredulously. "I already told you what I think the Lockwoods, and you're so paranoid you won't believe me! So, if you don't mind, I'll be on my way."
The Salvatore's hand latched onto Eden's upper arm as she passed by him, his grip awfully tight. "It's not just about the Lockwoods, okay?" he gritted out, as if the words were painful for him to speak. "It's about Elena. She wants to learn about Katherine, and you know her. And you care about Elena, right?"
"I hardly know her," Eden remarked, rolling her eyes.
"But you care, no?" When Eden didn't respond, Damon chuckled. "You're coming with us."
"Fine," she spat, ripping her arm from his grasp on her. "Whatever. But, you know, me coming with you doesn't exactly mean I'll be spilling my deepest, darkest secrets."
"Yeah, yeah!" Damon called back, unperturbed by her cold tone. "I'll see you in an hour! Don't be late either —" he faced her, raising a brow and smirking in a way that irked her to her core, "— I have no time for tardiness."
Slamming the front door behind her, Eden internally groaned when she listened to the amused chuckle Damon released at her reluctant agreement to join them to Duke. Figuring she had nothing better to spend her day doing, Eden, much to her own chagrin, supposed it might have been a good way to incorporate herself into the lives of the many in Mystic Falls that seemed wary of Eden. She understood — she too would be apprehensive of a vampire who came to town, and supposedly was there to help. However, if they continued to ice her out, Eden only wished them the best and hoped their ignorance wouldn't be their downfall.
Before she knew it, she had arrived at the Gilbert home, a large, white structural house that stood out broadly on the street in all its glory. She greeted Elena kindly and smiled tentatively at Stefan, before slipping into the back seat of Alaric Saltzman's car, headed directly to Duke. When, in her peripheral vision, she spotted Elena kiss Stefan goodbye, her jaw clicked uncomfortable and reached for a blood bag in hopes it would ease to tension on her neck and tightness of her shoulders. It didn't.
When both Damon and Elena sat down, the latter smiling warmly at her, Alaric set off, preparing himself to rifle through his once-wife's belongings whilst pretending it didn't break him down inside. Eden evoked a small amount of sympathy for the man, as she wasn't even capable of bringing herself to go near the remnants of her past, considering majority of them were the result of her switching off her humanity. She valued it and hoped it wouldn't be too detrimental for him.
Around halfway through the journey, Damon leaned back and glanced at Elena, who was adamant on keeping her expression stoic and gaze on the passing world around them. "How're you doing back there?" When Elena refused to answer, Eden raised a brow as she sipped on the saccharine-tasting blood, eyes darting between the two. "You know, this whole, pretending to hate me thing is getting a little silly."
Alaric scoffed in amusement, "I don't think she's pretending. You did kill her brother."
Eden's jaw fell slack, blood stained on her lips, "You killed her brother? Wow, you really are a piece of shit."
"There is a huge asterisk next to that statement," Damon defended, nonchalant. "He came back to life."
Eden's brows knitted together, "Is your brother a vampire?'
"No," Elena shook her head. "He has a ring that protects him from death at a supernatural being's hand. A ring you didn't know he was wearing."
"Why are you so sure I didn't know?" Damon retorted.
Elena quirked a brow, "Did you?"
There was a very short pause before Damon answered, simply, "Yes."
He smiled at her, whilst Elena's gaze grew more fierce and poisonous, "You're lying."
"Elena, I saw the ring," Damon insisted firmly. "It's a big, tacky thing. It's hard to miss." Alaric fiddled with his ring, which, Eden guessed, was an exact replica of the one Elena's brother held on his finger.
Eden faced Elena once more, finishing off the rest of her blood bag, and tried to clarify some things, "So, let me get this straight: Alaric married some woman called Isobel, who turned out to be your biological mother. Your uncle, John, is actually your father, and your brother is your . . . cousin?"
"Correct," Elena nodded. "But I found out through my boyfriend, who figured it out long before I even knew who Isobel was. And Isobel is now a vampire, turned by him." Eden could almost envision Damon's smug grin, and she could hear the small huff of arrogant laughter that escaped him.
"I didn't think there was a family more complicated than mine, but, well, here we are," jested Eden, chuckling at the thought of someone else having as complicated familial issues than the Mikaelsons, who were far past dysfunctional.
"Mind elaborating on the family of yours?" Damon queried, an indifferent hint to his tone as he questioned the Oliveira on her enigmatic past.
Eden smiled shortly, sarcastically, "I'd prefer not."
Damon scoffed and rolled his eyes, mumbling irritatedly, "Of course."
In no time at all, the four of them arrived at Duke University, the former workplace of Isobel Flemmings who had vanished ( a large question mark appeared against that term ) two years prior. As they entered the college, Alaric explained Isobel's past job and how it tied in with her knowledge of Mystic Falls and the unnatural part of the town, "So, Isobel was officially employed by the Anthropology Department given that most paranormal phenomena is rooted in folklore." They walked through the ancient-appearing university, they came across a woman, who Eden hoped had known Isobel, "Excuse me. Hi, I'm Alaric Saltzman. I called earlier."
The brunette woman smiled and nodded in understanding, "Yes, of course. I'm Vanessa Monroe, research assistant. Comparative folklore." Her eyes lingered on Damon, and Eden's nose scrunched in distaste, "Uh, let me just grab Isobel's keys."
"I'm sorry, these are my friends, Elena, Damon and Eden," Alaric introduced for them. "I hope this isn't too much of an imposition."
"Oh, please," Vanessa brushed off, careless. "Isobel's office is right through there." Vanessa began to collect the keys to the once-teacher's office, talking as she did so, "Isobel was one of my first professors. I'm a grad student. She was brilliant. And one of the reasons I went into folklore." Vanessa paused for a moment, before hesitantly wondering, "I have to ask, um . . . has there been any news?"
Alaric answered swiftly, "No, no, I'm afraid not."
Vanessa nodded in response, dismayed with the response, "It's right this way." She unlocked the door to Isobel's office, revealing shelves filled to the brim with books and boxes, the latter likely stocked with different pieces of information that linked to the supernatural world. "I'll grab the light. Feel free to look around," Vanessa offered kindly. She took in their awed expressions, and commented before she left, "Fascinating, isn't it?"
Damon hummed in response, grabbing random objects in hopes it would be of any use to them. With intrigue stemmed into her movements, Eden found herself wandering along the shelves that were rammed with information that had piled over the years, parts of it perhaps even relating back to her. Furrowing his brows, Damon turned to the three of them, questioning suspiciously, "Where'd she go?"
Eden shrugged in response, unconcerned by the disappearance of the Monroe. However, she did frown when a rattling sound floated into her ears, and her lips parted at the sight of Vanessa holding a crossbow in her hand, aimed directly for Elena. The Gilbert gasped, hardly having any time to get to safety, and when the arrow shot out of the contraption, Damon rushed to her aid and took the arrow to the back of his shoulder blades, groaning in agony.
With her enhanced vampire abilities, Eden sped towards Vanessa, her forearm pressed tightly against the younger woman's chest and collarbones, the crossbow clattering to the ground. Inhaling steadily, Eden met Vanessa's frightened eyes, "You're very lucky I'm not in a murderous mood today otherwise your head would be on the other side of the room." She smiled tightly, before grabbing her by the hair, pulling her towards her office, "Come on, let's not make this harder than it should be."
As Eden, Alaric following behind her, shoved Vanessa into a leather chair, rather forcefully, the Monroe exclaimed desperately, "Please! Okay — I freaked! You would have done the same thing. It is not possible! Katherine Pierce can't be alive. Damon Salvatore died in 1864. And you," Vanessa's wide eyes fell on Eden's face, "you were supposed to be dead long ago, considering who you know! Okay, I read Isobel's research!"
"Well then you should know possible this is," Alaric retorted strongly, silencing Vanessa. There was a thick sheen of tension in the air, shattering when the door opened and Damon and Elena revealed on the other side, the Salvatore free of the arrow that was lodged in his back.
"I'm Elena Gilbert," the brunette insisted strongly, gaze piercing the Monroe's frightened one's. "Isobel's daughter and descendant of Katherine Pierce. And this is Damon Salvatore, who you just shot."
"I'd be extra nice to me right now," Damon warned, his expression hidden with rage.
"Look, we need your help, okay?" Elena started, hopeful to get through to Vanessa. "We need to see all of Isobel's research. Anything related to Mystic Falls."
The four of them watched Vanessa expectantly, and a smile spread across Eden's face when Vanessa sighed and nodded, rising from her seat. "Fine," she relented, headed back for Isobel's office. "Only because I know it's what Isobel would've wanted."
Faintly, Eden heard Alaric snort and mutter, "I doubt that."
Vanessa grasped one of Isobel's boxes whilst the rest of them meandered around the room and Eden tried not to be a little overwhelmed with the images and notes that flooded her mind. "This box tracks Katherine's arrival to Mystic Falls in April of 1864," Vanessa sat it in front of Elena.
"Is that all there is about her?" Elena wondered, slightly disappointed.
"All that I'm aware of," responded Vanessa. Eden watched as Elena's gaze flickered towards Damon, who was preoccupied with ruffling through a box of his own, and held out some vervain to Vanessa.
"Here," she offered. "Take this."
"Does vervain really work?" Vanessa asked, fiddling with the stick of it. Eden went to answer, yet was cut off by a conceited voice.
"Nope, not at all!" Damon answered from the other end of the room.
"Ignore him," scoffed Eden. "It does work, believe me."
"Can he hear us?" Vanessa asked, skeptical.
"No, that would be creepy," Damon retorted, irritating both Eden and Elena.
Elena nodded in confirmation, and Vanessa went on to ask, "Can he read minds, too?"
"You know, if you wanna see me naked, all you had to do was ask," Damon exposed, and Vanessa's cheeks heated in embarrassment, whilst Elena stared at him in revulsion.
"No! That he can't do," Elena called out, and Damon was unperturbed by her indignant tone. "But he is very capable of being a first-rate jackass." Vanessa chuckled, stuffing the vervain into the front of her pocket.
Eden faced Vanessa, quirking an intrigued brow. "What did you mean before? When you said that I should be dead, 'considering the people I know.'"
Vanessa shrugged, "I've read Isobel's work. You knew Katherine, Katherine knew people . . . I just figured you'd have been killed already. Y'know — wrong place, wrong time and all."
Eden hummed in response, pursing her lips. Vanessa smiled fleetingly at her, before moving over to the other boxes, helping the four of them get through them all. Eden took in her nonchalance, and figured that, yes, she had brushed death many times over the course of her life, so Vanessa's idea wasn't too out there. Although, she was slightly on edge with the information that could possibly be freed in the wake of their searching. Information that Eden had spent years burying.
Time had began to pass by them, and Eden watched as frustration seeped into Elena's bones at the lack of knowledge Isobel seemed to have in regards to Katherine. "Any luck?" Damon asked, already aware of the answer.
"There's nothing in here about Katherine that we don't already know," Elena complained, tossing down the books and pieces of parchment.
A faux look of helplessness crawled itself across Damon's face, "Ah, man. You know, it's a bummer we're not friends anymore because I could tell you what I know."
"Now who's manipulating who?" Elena retaliated, gaze narrowing at Damon.
"Hey, guys, check this out!" Alaric alerted them to something he had found. He handed them a book, and Eden's gaze casted down the the ancient image of what a werewolf used to appear as, having drastically changed in the modern era.
"There's no record of werewolf mythology in Mystic Falls but here are some records of some of the lesser known legends," Vanessa stated, holding the book in her hands. "Everything from Scandinavian skin-walkers to the Maréchal de Retz." Vanessa pointed at the image, and when she recited a phrase in a foreign language, Eden instantly knew what she meant, "Which roughly translates into —"
"'The curse of the sun and moon'," Eden finished for her, her voice a low whisper.
"It's Native American," Alaric pointed out, but Eden shook her head.
"Aztec, actually," she corrected. "It explains one origin of the werewolf curse traced through Virginia. The story goes that six-hundred years ago, the Aztecs were plagued by werewolves and vampires. They terrorised the countryside, made farming and hunting impossible. Until, an Aztec shaman cursed them. Making vampires slaves to the sun and werewolves servants of the moon."
"You know your stuff," complimented Vanessa, carrying on where Eden left off. "As a result, vampires could only prowl at night and werewolves could only turn on a full moon. When the full moon crests in the sky, whoever's unlucky enough to fall under the werewolf curse turns into a wolf."
"Can they control the transformation?" Damon asked.
"If it were a choice, it wouldn't be called a curse," Vanessa retorted.
Damon shot her a sarcastic smile, before pointing accusingly at Eden. "You were alive six-hundred years ago. Is it true?"
Eden thinned her lips, before answering, "This would have been the early 1400s so . . . I can't really remember." At their baffled expressions, Eden elaborated, "My humanity was off, so it was a bit of a haze, really."
Damon's gaze was fierce, but when Eden didn't give up what Damon believed to be a forged story, his shoulders sagged and he commented with derision in his tone, "How very helpful of you."
"Werewolves will attack humans," Vanessa pursued on. "But instinct and centuries of rivalry have hardwired them to hunt their prey of choice: vampires."
"Well, if werewolves were hunting vampires, I would know about it," Damon retorted in disbelief.
"Would you?" Eden shot back, arching a brow. "Cause, to me, you don't seem to know a lot about the supernatural, despite being a part of it."
Damon's stance grew tense, and he began to stalk towards Eden, yet was stopped by Alaric, who pressed a forearm in front of Damon's torso. His face grew bitter, and Vanessa carried on before it could escalate, "You wouldn't if there aren't many werewolves left alive. Hundreds of years ago, vampires hunted them almost to extinction."
"Why would they do that?" Elena asked.
"To protect themselves," Vanessa supposed. "Legend has it that a werewolf bite is fatal to vampires."
"It's not a legend," Eden spoke up, all eyes snapping to her. "If you get bit, you may as well say your goodbyes, cause there isn't a cure. Once you get bit, you're already dead."
☆
They continued their search, even as nightfall began to descend upon them. Eden found herself getting slightly agitated, having not fed since their drive to Duke which was hours prior. It was an intense urge to push down — she could hear the pumping of the three human's blood flowing through their veins, and she was itching to jam her fangs into their carotid and drain them of what they had in them, but she knew it wouldn't really bode well with the rest of them — Damon in particular.
"Hey, Eden, is this you?" Elena asked, holding up an old and weathered, painted picture, one of two brunettes. Eden moved forward and grasped a gently, a small huff of laughter escaping her. It was from the late 1400s, and a terrifically illustrated image of Eden and Katherine and the exquisite architect of the Manor they were living in at that time.
"Shit, yeah," she breathed, taken aback. "This was when I first met Katherine. She sure made an impact."
"So you were close?" Elena arched a brow of curiosity.
"I mean, yeah, we were friends, but I wouldn't exactly call us close," grimaced Eden. "In front of the townspeople, though, we were like sisters. I haven't seen this in centuries, thought it was lost forever when I fled England."
"Do you know much about her?" Elena prodded, and Eden supposed she was itching to pull information from the Oliveira.
Eden smiled shortly, "Not anything of use to you."
Elena huffed in frustration, and turned to Vanessa, asking, "Have you done any research on doppelgängers?"
"Well, the word means a lot of different things to different cultures," Vanessa replied. "But, typically, a doppelgänger is a living, breathing double of oneself."
"Did Isobel have anything that'd explain the link between me and Katherine?" Elena pressed, desperate.
"That painting and this image —" Vanessa pulled out an old picture of Katherine, easily from centuries beforehand, "— was all she had on Katherine, unfortunately. But, I can tell you that doppelgängers usually torment the people they look like, trying to undo their lives. It's not exactly uplifting."
"And more things we already know," Elena complained. "Just . . . I wanna know why we look alike."
"Head-scratcher, isn't it?" Damon unnecessarily commented, and Eden rolled her eyes at his petulance.
"Do you know something, or are you just being yourself?" Elena asked, impatient.
"Well, if I know anything, I'm not gonna tell you," Damon retorted. "Not with that attitude."
Elena pursed her lips, nodding in acceptance, "That's good. And this is coming from someone who wants to be my friend. But, you know what? Friends don't manipulate friends. They help each other." Elena brushed past him, and Eden watched as a plethora of emotions flickered across Damon's face as Elena's words seeped into his skin.
Eventually, the four of them began to repack the mess they had made throughout the entirety of the day, as the full moon which hung heavy in the sky signified a need to head back to Mystic Falls and call it a day. Eden walked alongside Elena as the two of them walked towards Alaric's car, silence coating them up until Elena broke it, a grateful hint to her voice.
"Thank you for today," she spoke, gracious. "It meant a lot to have you there, and it was nice to get to know you a bit more, even if it was a bit of a weird setting."
Eden snorted, "Yeah, you could say that."
"Do you plan on staying?" Elena asked, her voice soft.
Eden pondered over it for a moment, "Well, I can't see why not. I've been to so many places over the years, and sometimes it's nice to settle down in a small town for once, even if it isn't forever."
"I'm glad to hear that," Elena admitted, causing Eden's eyes to widen in surprise. "You'll fit in well with the rest of us. Once Caroline's accepted what she is, she'll love you."
Eden chuckled, "Well, it didn't really get that good of an impression of her last night, but I'll take your word for it."
Elena's expression became more serious, and she appeared as though she had been holding back the words throughout the whole day. "Eden?" The Oliveira quirked an intrigued brow, urging the Gilbert on, "Don't take this the wrong way, but . . . it just seems that you've been holding back a lot of stuff about Katherine, and, well, it's been bothering me. I need to know, Eden. You can understand that, right?"
"Elena, I get that, I really do," Eden nodded in understanding. "But there are some things that I can't share. Your need to know is my past, and I can't have that out in the open. I'm sorry, Elena, but somethings are best left kept secret."
And if Eden had said anything truthful that night, it certainly was that.
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author's note,
hi my loves !! i hope you enjoy this chapter, i've been working on it for the past couple of days, and im secretly living for eden and damon's banter/i-hate-you friendship which im so excited to elaborate on in the upcoming chapters !!
also, if you missed it, i changed eden's sister's name to anastasia, and added a new character called romeo d'angelo ( who im already obsessed with ), played by dominic fike!
have a lovely day/night, and i'll see you with the next chapter <3