Dear Rebekah

It has been a while since I have written. Paris I believe was the last letter I left? I hope you found it. I hope you found all of my letters. I really have no way of knowing. But I like to believe that my correspondences over these past years have not been in vain. I find it comforting to think of you, following my trail. I suppose these in-depth letters are unnecessary, a note with my name on it would be enough to alert you that I had been there and provide another crumb for you to follow as you try to find us. But I feel that not only is my reassurance necessary, but it normalises this life for me somehow. Even if very little has changed for me in the time that has passed.

I remain human and Lucien shows no sign of turning me, which I suppose I should be grateful for. The idea of eternity with him… now that truly is a terrifying thought.

We have moved again although we are still in Europe, Italy I believe. I couldn't say where exactly. I am kept inside for the most part, only allowed out when his lordship grants me permission. I miss the feel of the wind on my skin, the warmth of the sunlight. I exist only behind glass and it is maddening to see the world so close but be deprived of the sensations of touch.

If only I was so deprived by what is inside the house as I am by what is outside.

I still don't know exactly why I am being dragged around by Lucien. He doesn't talk about his intentions. In fact he rarely talks to me at all, except to torment me with his words. I haven't seen him much lately, which I am grateful for. He terrifies me, more than anything else. More even than Klaus. When he does appear, I am at the mercy of his temper. He maintains an air of restraint but I know now that it is calculation. Why wildly lash out in anger when a single, planned strike would do far more damage?

Fortunately, his aggression does not seem to extend to the twins. He doesn't like them, I know that much, but he does not seek them out to harm. I think he views them as an incidental nuisance, a condition of my stay through which he can maintain his control of me. If they get in his way he will not hesitate to hurt them but as long as I keep them at my side and out from under his feet they are safe. I think they make him uncomfortable, Lilah especially. Whenever he enters a room, she will stop what she is doing to stare at him. Frequently this is enough to get him to leave. I would encourage this act but I'm afraid that he may get rid of her with too much provocation.

I feel like I'm walking a tightrope and with every day that passes it gets harder and harder not to fall. All I want is to see you and your brothers again. I try to teach the girls to be like their fathers. To be creative, loyal, compassionate and strong. But then I let Lucien do the things he does and I fear that is all they will learn. I do not want him to teach my children to be wicked.

I tell them stories, about the Mikaelson siblings. I speak of you as though you were something from a fairy tale. The wolf king of New Orleans, the noble and brave princes. Of course, the loyal princess who is stronger than any knight. They love the stories. I will not let them forget about you, I promise that.

I will be strong for them, for you and our family. I will survive as I always have and eventually I will find my way back, that I guarantee. It may take years but I will come home.

My other fear is how much they miss as time passes. What should have been their first Christmas, their first birthday… special occasions that should have been shared with the people who loved them… instead we spent Christmas locked in a single room, a single candle for light, desperately trying to keep quiet so as not to draw Lucien's ire. I know that they were too young and that they won't remember it but the more time that passes, the firmer the memories will become. I don't want fear to shape their childhood.

It would be easy to lie and tell you that I spend every minute in fear and sorrow for what is and what I have lost but in reality, after a while it becomes far easier not to feel. I have become accustomed to tuning my emotions out. Occasionally, a rare moment will break through my carefully constructed walls. Not all of these are bad either. What astounds me is that a man as monstrous as Lucien is capable of these fleeting moments of kindness. I feel that they are most likely attempts to manipulate me and know that I should raise my guard against them, but I find myself disarmed.

One incident sticks in my mind above others. It was the December before last, Christmas Eve in fact. We were in Prague. I had graduated from being locked in one room to having the run of the apartment, but Lucien had kept it undecorated. The girls had crafted a few paper snowflakes that we'd stuck over their beds. They'd enjoyed the activity so much that the next day they asked to make more. I agreed, albeit reluctantly. Lucien hated when they made a mess. I figured that we'd be done before he came home and it would all be okay. But he came earlier than normal. When he walked in the door, we all froze and I expected him to strike out. Instead, he simply looked at our pathetic little paper snowflakes, crooked and misshapen, and got my coat. He took us out to the Christmas market. There were carollers and a large tree and the smell of mulled wine. It felt so right and it was such a beautiful evening that I could almost forget all my problems, just for one night. I don't think Lucien said a word the entire time we were out, not to me at least. Obviously, he didn't leave me alone. He was always there, at most a few feet behind me. I knew that the next day things would go back to exactly the way they had been before but for that night I could play pretend.

And even trapped in the apartment the next day, it felt different. The girls got gifts for the first time and if I closed my eyes, I could smell the scent of pine and spices and the sweet sugary smell of Christmas.

I don't know what brought on that rare show of kindness. Lucien hasn't displayed it since. In fact, only a few days after that we moved again. I think I know why. I saw, for the briefest moment, the flash of gold in the eyes of one of the market vendors. I know how Lilah draws them in. Maybe it was for the best that we moved before too much time had passed; not all wolves are as friendly as the ones back home.

I think I should bring this letter to an end before Lucien returns home. He does not know about the trail of paper I've left across Europe, or at least I don't think he does. He may very well have full knowledge and be waiting for the right moment to use this knowledge against me. That would certainly be in keeping with his character.

I love you all. Please, if you find this, remind the boys of that. Don't let them slip into darkness or despair.

All my love, forever and always

~Elena.