A/N: I haven't touched this in a while because it's an overwhelming undertaking with so much world building. I can't promise regular updates to this, but I wanted to update. This is a short chapter, fair warning. Thanks for your patience. Enjoy.

"All a woman need do is feed you some tale of her misfortunes, bat her pretty eyes, and she falls under your protection. Your noble nature will be your undoing, brother. Just wait and see."

Elijah had no idea why Klaus' words from centuries ago rang in his head as he unlocked his door and ushered Bonnie inside his home. He trailed behind her to the living room, the mark on his arm drawing his attention. More bad news was on the way.

Bonnie didn't settle on the couch but merely stood poised, arms folded. Elijah tossed his keys on the coffee table and loosened his tie. They said nothing to each other, just stared waiting for the other to flinch, make a sudden move, speak.

"Why do you need to know Mystic Falls' history?" Elijah decided to start.

Bonnie shifted her weight on her feet, took a breath, "Before we get to that…that…mark I know it. I think…" her brows drew together as she grabbled with her next words, "I think that means you've been chosen to be a vessel. A vessel for something it would take a legion to kill."

Elijah had deduced that on top of other possibilities. Like he had been marked for death, which yes that would apply as well if he was going to be snuffed out of his own body leaving it a husk for some other supernatural entity to occupy. His mother had attempted that very thing; only her intentions had been to place his consciousness into that of a human to have the life she and his father robbed him of ten centuries before.

However, what Bonnie just informed him of sounded far worse than what he currently lived as. He was already pretty damn hard to kill. The information he received from Jessup last night came roaring to the surface, and Elijah was tumbling into the past. In his mind he stood in front of that red door that housed his most terrible secrets and horrific deeds. A door Esther Mikaelson had tried to smash open in the most massive guilt trip known to man to get him to bend to her cause. Purification. Or her amoral version of it.

One of those secrets Elijah shoved behind that door was demanding to be heard.

He straightened his shoulders and held Bonnie's tentative gaze with a challenging one. "I've read this story enough to know exactly where it's going. The endings are sometimes different, but the moral never changes. You are a spirit whose fundamental duty is to stop beasts like me. What are you going to do?"

Bonnie watched as Elijah's dark brown eyes hardened. With his body language he said he was ready to fight for his survival or gladly give it up. He wouldn't be sure of which until she made a decision.

"I know what I'm not going to do," Bonnie took a step forward. "I'm not going to kill you, Elijah. But I do need you to do something for me. I need you to tell me what you know about Mystic Falls and I need to know right now."

"You're asking for a thousand years of exhaustive history about a town I haven't called home in a very long time." Elijah lifted up his afflicted arm. "As you can see I have other more pressing issues…"

"Elijah," Bonnie cut him off.

He didn't let her interruption stop him. "Mystic Falls is but one city where monsters were created. My family became vampires there, and before us there were werewolves, and before them, witches. What came before witches could be other mythical or celestial creatures that have no modern name. The ground on which that town sits has power that is both useful and destructive. Anything can tap into it and make something in its image.

"You died there," he stood before Bonnie searching her jade and hazel orbs, "the last of your line. Your blood has been a key for many locks, Bonnie. And perhaps…" Elijah didn't want to say this to her, but he was never one to mince words. "Perhaps with your death it unlocked something that should have never been broken."

"Are you saying what's happening is my fault?"

"Or something has learned to take advantage of the fact one of the oldest and purest bloodlines has died out."

"But I'm alive."

"You're not human."

"But…"

"You're something more. You know that. And being back here won't reverse or change anything."

Bonnie stepped back, gaze reflective. How could a bloodline be responsible for so much? Her mind couldn't grasp the scope of that because it seemed unfathomable, limitless, infinite and she was, on the inside Bonnie felt finite. Yet evil was here. She could sense that. Evil had always been here if she knew the history of this world, but this was different, foreign as if another kind of malevolence took notice and decided to investigate this new world. It was vulnerable and had no clue. And those whose duty it was to protect it they were being picked off like petals from a flower.

However, the question that nagged Bonnie was how did all of this start? She supposed how things started didn't matter so much as finding a way to make it stop. Yet to understand a thing, you needed have knowledge of its origins. For the simple fact to keep it from happening again.

Bonnie's stomach chose that moment to growl. Loudly. Her cheeks darkened and she avoided looking at Elijah who she sensed was biting back a smile.

"Hungry?" he reached out, dragging his knuckle along the bride of her nose.

"Yes," she met his gaze. "I'm starving."

Year Three

The sky wasn't an annoying, abnormal hue for once that made him feel like he was traipsing around a video game or concept art for a fantasy world. For the first time in ages, Damon could trick himself into believing he was home, maybe not Mystic Falls, but an exotic locale that boasted white sand beaches, colorful houses stacked on top of one another like Legos, and leggy bombshells sashaying around in skimpy thong swimsuits.

He closed his eyes and the terra cotta and tile structure with Baroque-era trimming behind him evaporated. He was laying in the middle of an asphalt road waiting for headlights to beam on him, staring up at a sky that held constellations he actually knew the names of. Finally a motorist would appear, apply the anti-lock brakes, hop out of their car and cautiously approach wondering if he were dead or alive. Five seconds later he'd have dinner. Tasty human blood would sate his hunger for a few hours, and not that tasteless, colorless bullshit he was forced to drink here.

His old life daydream was ruined. Damon pouted.

The radiation from this sun was managing to do what the one on Earth couldn't do, turn his skin pink. Damon dipped his hand into the navy water, a water bluer and darker than the lapis lazuli stone in his ring. He wondered if he even needed to continue wearing it, but he wasn't going to take it off just to learn the hard way no matter the world, he was deathly allergic to sunlight.

Looking at the lapping waves some yards in the distance, his ears picked up the shifting of sand under naked size six feet, and then the sloshing of caramel legs trudging through choppy water toward him.

Damon glanced over his shoulder. His heart burned and he grunted at the bothersome sensation. That burn felt like betrayal.

She looked better than she had two and a half days ago, but her eyes were haunted, and her mouth was contorted into a semi-grimace. He could only guess how much excruciating pain she was still in. Even now Damon could still hear her deafening screams ringing in his ears. Screams brought on by the chemical, hormonal, and physical process of growing cartilage, marrow, osseous tissue, and bone. It was the matter of where the bones had grown that caused the kind of pain that made Bonnie lose consciousness before everything was over.

It was there in his mind now. Her sprawled on an examination bed after being inoculated and injected with—what he considered a virus—that brought about flu-like symptoms for two hours, chills for the next five, periodic twitches and convulsions for eight, and the worst of it, splitting skin on her back, shoulder blades in particular. Damon had lost it at that point and was threatened with incarceration if he didn't get his shit together and be strong for her.

Bonnie sidled next to him, breathing labored.

"You sure you should be moving around so soon after…?" Damon studied her. Well, she wasn't wearing a skimpy thong bikini, but a gauzy violet sleeveless turtle neck. What covered her bottom he had no idea. Her skin absorbed the sun's rays, and her usual green orbs were a fiery hazel-gold.

"Kirisi said it's best to walk as soon as possible so I can get used to it."

"Oh, yes the great and mighty Kirisi," the sarcasm was thick. "Funny how every time she tells you something it leads to a test that inevitably leaves you in a heap of pain."

"Damon," Bonnie reproached, tired of the argument they've been having for weeks. Maybe even longer. She met his furrowed brow with a timid smile. "When are you going to stop worrying so much?"

"I'm not worried."

"You're not?" Bonnie arched a brow. "You might want to tell your face that."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Me worrying would imply I care, and I told you a long time ago, very long time ago we don't want that. You know what happens when I care."

"The same thing that happens when you don't. How many times am I going to have to expose the marshmallow that lives inside o—," Bonnie broke off and grabbed his arm to steady herself as a fresh wave of pain hit her.

Instinctively Damon reached for her, arm going around her waist to keep her upright, eyes zooming everywhere looking for the origins of what caused her discomfort. "What?"

Bonnie groaned and rolled her shoulders which made her hiss.

"All right, that's it. You're going back into the infirmary."

Bonnie ineffectively tried to shoo Damon away. "No, I need to be outside. I need fresh…"she bit back another groan and stifled a scream. "Being inside makes me feel trapped. I can't take it anymore."

"Bonnie, no one is measuring how tough you are, gotdammit. If you're hurting stop bottling that shit up."

"Stop lecturing me, Damon."

"I wouldn't have to lecture if you'd listen."

"Can you just…I feel heavy."

Damon pursed his lips and before Bonnie could object, he turned her to face him and lifted her clean out of the water by her hips, and almost toppled over. "Shit. You weight a ton."

Under much different circumstances Bonnie would have taken offense but she smiled, damn near superiorly.

"Seriously," Damon struggled to hold Bonnie up. She certainly wasn't the feather he lifted the one and only time he carried her after she did the spell to fake her death to fake out Klaus. She was heavier to the point he almost felt like she was crushing him into the sand. He locked his arms right under her ass, ignoring—barely—she was wearing bikini cut bottoms.

Gently placing her hands on his bare shoulders for support, Bonnie stared at him. "It's my wings."

"Yeah, I figured that. Who knew those damn things would make you a lot denser." Pause. "Still afraid to let them out?"

"After how much it fucking hurt for them to grow and then to have them shoved into their hidey place in my body, um yeah!"

Slowly Damon lowered Bonnie back to her feet. Those memories were too raw. He knew what it was like watching, but didn't want to imagine what it was like experiencing web-like bones sprouting from her back.

"That was something straight out of Aliens, I'm telling you," Damon repressed a shudder. Bonnie sucked her teeth. "You know when those…"

"I know what you mean. You can stop talking about it," Bonnie said uncomfortably. "I can feel them. It's like something scratchy constantly brushing against you. I've been told in a few weeks I won't feel them at all and letting them out won't hurt. It'll become second nature, won't have to concentrate too much."

"Let me see."

Bonnie hesitated before presenting her back to Damon. Carefully he hooked his pointer under the seam of her shirt and pulled it aside. The angry bruising on her shoulder blades was fading. Her back didn't look much different from the werewolf bite he suffered. Without touching her, his fingers traced the dark purple, red, and even a few black veins scouring across her flesh. What drew his attention the most was the tattoo right at the base of her neck that matched the one on his left pec. A tattoo that had to be fire branded on him because of his nifty healing factor. A tattoo that was unique to them as a united duo, and a rite of passage in this confusing world, but definitely something he never shared with any woman he's ever known.

An eclipsed sun surrounded by wings. That was their sigil they'd have forever.

Guess that really made them official. She was a Dominion now and he…her herald.

Damon woke up groggily, his hand unconsciously gripping his tattooed pec. He dug the heel of his hand into his eye socket which made the pain intensify. Opening one lid, there was a face hovering above his. Elena. He frowned and pushed himself upright looking around, trying to recall the last thing that happened.

His slow thumping heart torpedoed in his chest. "Bonnie! Where is she?"

"Damon," Elena pressed a hand on his shoulder to get him to settle down. "You need to take it easy. You were attacked a couple of hours ago. Bonnie healed you…gave you some blood and you passed out."

"That doesn't explain where she is," he growled lowly.

Elena swallowed uneasily.

Thankfully, Caroline and Stefan came into the room.

"Hey," Stefan said. "How're you feeling?"

"Like somebody needs to open their mouth and start explaining where the hell Bonnie is."

"I brought you lunch," Caroline palmed a blood bag and tossed it toward Damon who caught it blindly.

He kneaded the bag and waited for that initial feeling of hunger to spike and cramp his stomach, cause his saliva glands to swell. Staring at the crimson fluid did nothing for him. Plus it wasn't the blood he needed.

"She's not here," Damon locked gazes with the other vampires in the room.

Stefan nodded. "She took off shortly after you lost consciousness. We don't know where she is but I think we can all guess."

Damon was on his feet, a blur even to the vampires. By the time they blinked, the door to the suite was swinging shut. He was gone.

One thing Elijah could give credit to his mother for was teaching the importance of food. Not just for nourishment, but as an illustration of love, honor, and respect. Serving your best cuts of meat, fresh vegetables, bread, delicious wine shouldn't be used expressly to boast about one's wealth, but to say 'I appreciate you and want the best for you.'

So Elijah spared no expense ordering the works from a nearby Cajun cuisine restaurant. They were always prompt with his orders even going so far as to supply him with a complimentary bottle of Shiraz. It wasn't late or cold enough for a fire, but he built one anyways and asked Bonnie if she wanted to eat by it. She nodded and that's how the two of them ended up on a blanket on the floor sitting across from one another.

Something vague about this setup tickled the back of Bonnie's head but she didn't push to try to remember. With so much of her past locked away, for the time being, Bonnie was content to build from the night Elijah found her stumbling through the rain. Maybe one day she'd remember everything or she wouldn't. If she did and whatever dark moments she shared with Elijah came to light, she could berate herself for enjoying his company when she shouldn't have. It didn't feel wrong or weird. Bonnie couldn't really say how she felt. There were times where she caught Elijah blatantly staring at her that made her feel flustered and unsure, but plenty more were her mind jumped to conclusions that left her annoyed and irritated.

"How do you like your lobster?" Elijah sipped his wine.

"It's good. I don't think I've ever had this before."

"Do you remember anything about what you might have eaten on…what was the name of the world…?"

"Hedera," Bonnie murmured as she looked to her plate for answers. Everything she was eating Elijah had to tell her the name of. After struggling for an uncomfortable moment, she shook her head. "I just know this food is so good I don't see how it's possible for there to be so much conflict. If everyone was given the chance to eat like this."

"You think the world's problems can be solved with good food?"

Bonnie perked up. "I do remember…there was a massive city where the people were starving and because of that hunger, they began eating each other. Harvesting one another. There were…what would you call a person or people who held more power than others and used it to their advantage violently?"

That question made Elijah squirm. My family he thought but said, "Warlords."

"Yes, that word feels right," Bonnie sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. "They controlled farms of people. Had breeders because…the young," she swallowed thickly as bile flirted with the back of her throat, "the young were treated as a delicacy."

Even Elijah was sickened by that.

"It was brutal and inhumane," Bonnie finished sourly.

"Were they castigated?"

Almond shaped lids lowered. Bonnie inhaled sharply and rubbed her temple, the bruise along her hairline that was slowly healing, then the nape of her neck. Her eyes glistened damn near maddeningly if Elijah had to classify it. But he was no stranger to that look. Had seen it often enough on his brother's faces after they annihilated a family of humans, a nest of vampires, coven of witches who crossed them, a pack of wolves. The ecstasy of killing. Surprisingly that feeling of unease Elijah felt the night he found Bonnie swept through him, but now he knew he was entertaining a being who could crush him as easily as blinking.

"The warlords were rounded up and racked, quartered, and then fed to their dogs," Bonnie revealed. "I think that was my first assignment. We hadn't gone there specifically to liberate the people. We were…we were looking for some imperial's daughter. She was set to inherit his throne but didn't want it. So she ran. No one had any idea of what was going on in that place until we accidentally uncovered it."

"We…you and Damon?"

Bonnie nodded. "And two others."

"You'll forgive my ignorance, but you said you're a keeper of gods I thought it meant you stood guard outside of some palace or private home."

Taking a drink, Bonnie shook her head. "My duties, what I can remember were broad. At the end of the day, I delivered justice and I protected the realm."

Elijah tapped the rim of his glass wondering if he should ask this, "Do you want to go back? Do you miss what you know?"

A faraway look made her irises opaque, "I…I feel that no matter where I go I'll always be fighting to fit and I'm tired. So, so tired, Elijah. I just…I just want to be."

Elijah knew and understood the feeling; and it floored him how badly he wanted it for Bonnie, for a young woman he hadn't thought about in years, but in just a few days he wanted her to have whatever her heart desired.

Elijah lightly took Bonnie's hands in his, absently aware of the softness of her skin, the fineness of her bones, "That's what you need to do, Bonnie. Just be. I don't want you to do anything to circumvent whatever's happening here. This fight isn't yours."

Brow furrowed, Bonnie squinted. "Something is wrong and I can't…what about your friend Hayley? I can't leave her the way she is. And you…"

"I'll be fine. This isn't the first time someone has wanted me dead," his lips ticked up in a barely believable smile. "You need to live your life, Bonnie."

His hearing picked up a sound.

Bonnie winced when Elijah accidentally tightened his grip on her hands. He was focused on something else which made Bonnie more alert as well.

"Is it Damon?" Elijah flashed to the window, peered out into his neighborhood.

Bonnie's hair tickled her neck and cheeks in the wind kicked up with the Original's fast movement. She concentrated and felt his signature energy. "Yeah."

"Guess that means our time, like always, is up."

Damon didn't even have to knock on the door when he arrived on Elijah's porch. The Original had been waiting for him, and Elijah couldn't help but take in the extraterrestrial glow of Damon's notorious baby blues. He had seen them glow like that at his family's club where Damon misread and overreacted to the situation.

The two men sized one another up. It would take less than the snap of the fingers for the hostility and testosterone to start flying along with punches, but there wasn't any logical need for them to attempt to stomp the other. Bonnie was unarmed, had to come to Elijah of her own free will. That was an inescapable truth and one Damon had to honor.

Bonnie slipped out of the house, first meeting Damon's glowing gaze which caused a reaction in her own. Without saying a word he asked if she were fine and she replied she was. When she blinked her eyes were back to normal, and she draped her hand on Elijah's shoulder, rose to her tip toes to kiss his…

He turned his head at the right moment catching Bonnie's lips with his. A tiny surprised gasp left Bonnie's lungs and she lost all air supply when Elijah covered her mouth completely, deepening the kiss.

Damon watched with crossed arms, a raised brow, and rolling eyes.

Elijah pulled away first, lids slumberous. He was pleased to find Bonnie's eyes still closed as she leaned into him seeking more. And he was fucking tempted to give her more but unfortunately it would only make saying goodbye to her harder. He knew without having to be told that today would probably be his last time seeing her, feeling her, talking to her. His life was about to take a turn and he couldn't afford any distractions or liabilities. No matter how difficult and much it hurt. Elijah was an expert on denying himself, hurting himself.

He whispered something to her in Norse which made Bonnie stare at him quizzically. To Damon he said, "Take care of her."

"I'd love nothing more if she'd stop being so damn stubborn."

Bonnie shot him a look. Damon grinned in return and crooked two fingers for her to come to him.

The pull was strong in both directions. The one that led to Damon and the one that anchored her to Elijah.

Damon saw her hesitating. He cleared his throat and rubbed his tattoo. "We need to go."

Bonnie felt a ripple between her shoulder blades, her wings twitched inside of her.

Suddenly all three supernatural beings attention was riveted to the rapidly darkening sky. Ink black clouds converged eating every ray of sunlight.

It was only three o'clock in the afternoon. What the hell was going on? Coming storm? No, absent was the sound of thunder. No hint of rain in the air. But something was coming.

Then a whisper like a lover trying to rouse another in the middle of the night for a fuck.

Elijah.

In response, Damon yanked Bonnie away from Elijah, hauled her over his shoulder, ignored her curses and fists hammering his back, "That's our cue. So glad I'm not you," he winked at the dark-eyed man before spiriting away.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please, show this some love in the comments section. Until next time…