Oxford University

Ten years ago

Elena didn't want the night to end.

Yes, it was drizzling with a chill in the April air, but she was warm, tucked against the most extraordinary man—someone so honest and kind, and so grounded in his beliefs she just loved listening to him. Who would have thought that by coming to Oxford she would find a man who was so perfect for her?

It was funny how the world worked, how love found you when you least expected it.

Glancing at their joined hands, Elena imagined what her parents might say about Damon Salvatore, and she wondered if she could get them to see how good he had been for her. How he was strong and honest. Kind.

She wondered if how much she loved him would matter to them?

Her parents and her family exerted so much control over her life that she couldn't imagine them approving of her relationship with Damon. Yes, he was brilliant-well educated and honourable. But he wasn't of her station, and marrying well was all her parents ever wanted for their only daughter.

"Elena? What is wrong?" His voice was deep and clear. He sounded so sexy.

"Why do you think something is wrong?" she replied.

Damon smiled at her. "Because you usually talk my ear off and you have been very quiet. Is something on your mind?"

What would he do if she just told him the truth?

Damon, by the way, I have a secret to tell you. A really big secret.

Unfortunately she couldn't say those words.

Such a coward, Elena chided herself.

Since meeting him she had learned to see outside her own bubble. As so often the case growing up the way she did, Elena was the centre of the universe. Everything she did was watched, every want or need was satisfied, and it was all done without much thought to anyone else. Damon changed all that. He helped her see the big picture.

Being with Damon made her feel alive.

Looking up at him, his profile took her breath away the same as when she saw him for the first time. Damon was an extremely handsome man with a height of 5'10' and a well-toned body. He had a strong bone structure with high cheeks bones and a solid jaw line. He possessed dark brown almost black hair which hung just over his ears, usually styled in a casual disarray which made him looked sexy as hell. But it was the way he touched her, held her, kissed her that had changed the way Elena saw herself.

She wasn't a sheltered girl, but a woman. At twenty, she was ready to grow up.

"Damon? I have a favour to ask you."

He stopped and turned her into his powerful arms. "Anything."

It was now or never. He was all she had ever wanted in a man, every dream she had ever had about her knight in shining armour.

His thumb skimmed over her cheek. It was such a simple gesture, but Elena's heart fluttered and jumped wildly. Finally, she mustered up the nerve to tell him what she wanted. "I want…" Lord help her, she was nervous. "I want to spend the night with you."

His eyes locked on hers and everything around them, the breeze, the rain, the noise from the pub nearby, seemed to quiet immediately. "Are you sure?"

"I have never been more certain. You have been so patient with me, so sweet. I know it hasn't been easy." She glanced around, then leaning forward, she kissed him. "Let's go to your flat. I want to be with you."

Damon hadn't moved except to pull her close, but it seemed just a split second and his hands caught her head and his mouth came down on hers in a kiss the likes of which they had never shared. This was hot, hungry and a little dangerous. But Elena gave into it when his tongue slipped into her mouth, a soft moan escaped from her throat surprising both of them.

"I don't know what to do," she heard herself say.

"I will take care of you." His lips pressed into her temples and Damon's warm breath filled her with comfort, strength. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

She trusted him, above all else, Elena trusted him.

The short distance to his flat through the park near University College seemed endless. The waiting interminable. Now that she had decided, being with him was the only thing that mattered.

Once they had climbed the three flights of stairs and Damon had closed and locked the heavy wood door, Elena launched herself into his arms.

"Whoa, slow down. Elena, baby, slow down."

"I'm sorry…I…"

"Shh. Don't be sorry." His hand stroked her hair. "I want this to be good for you. We have to go slow."

"Okay. Okay." God, she was nervous. She was very nervous.

"Come here." Taking her hand, Damon led her through the living area of his flat. It wasn't big, but it was neat and beautifully appointed, with large windows she expected made the place gorgeous on a sunny day. It was much nicer than she expected, but over the past few months, she had learned that Damon was full of surprises. They entered his bedroom, which again, was surprisingly neat, and another set of large windows dominated one wall, looking out on the campus. He sat on the blue comforter covering the bed, pulling her down next to him. They stretched out and Damon made sure Elena was tucked securely into his side.

"Let me hold you for a bit. Get used to me."

Snuggling in, his body was hard, strong, and maybe that should have unnerved her, but never had she felt this protected. She felt safe with him. Totally safe.

"You have to know you can always tell me to stop. I won't push; this is all up to you. I don't want you to regret about this."

"I won't."

He raised himself over her and, not being able to resist, Elena reached out and touched Damon's face. He smiled and her whole world lit up. "I love you, Elena. I have never said that to anyone, and I won't say it to anyone ever again. You are it for me."

"Oh, Damon, I love you, too. But you need to know some things about me, about my family."

"You can tell me anything." His lips touched hers and everything heated up. At the same time, his hand travelled up her side, gently caressing the length of her body. Warmer still.

Elena gave in to the sensations that bloomed at each touch. With great care, Damon drew her sweater over her head, her jeans down her legs and once she was on his bed in only a bra and panties, Damon took a breath. "God, you are so beautiful. I can't believe you are with me." He rained kisses over her face and neck causing her to shiver. Pulling the covers back, he tucked her under the big comforter, finally stripped off his own jeans and shirt before joining her.

"Tell me to stop if you want me to."

Twining her arms around Damon's neck, Elena knew this was exactly where she wanted to be.

"I don't want you to stop. I want you, Damon. I want you so much."

His searing kiss was the last thing she remembered as their skin made contact, and Damon brought her to a whole new world.

Damon gradually drifted back to full awareness. He took his time about it, savouring the feel of Elena's body curled alongside his own. Her head was cradled on his arm. She had one palm resting on his chest and one foot wedged tantalizingly intimately between his legs. He felt her flex her toes a few times as though she liked touching him that way.

A warm, heavy, very bright sensation drifted through him. He could not remember the last time he had felt like this.

Maybe never. He shoved a pillow under his head and smiled into the shadows.

Then blue flashing lights broke into his room and the quick burst of a siren caused Elena to stir.

"What's going on outside?" Elena moaned. "It is barely dawn." She picked up her head and glanced towards the window. The sky was grey, letting them both know the night was almost over.

"I'm not sure." Planting his feet on the floor, Damon pulled on a pair of worn black sweatpants and approach the windows. "Some police milling around. A couple of men who look like private security. Hmm. A stretch Mercedes just pulled up. Looks like a diplomat's car. There are flags on the front."

He had never seen Elena move so fast. "What?" At his side, he could see the panic set in. Everything about her went rigid. "No. No, no, no. How did they find me? I turned off my cell phone."

Damon raised his brows. "Find you? You know who that is? What is going on?"

Looking outside again, a very attractive, middle aged woman, her dark brown hair pulled into a twist, exited the car, and looked up at his windows. When she spotted him, the look on her face could best be described as pained. Sad. What the hell was going on?

"Elena, who is the woman?" Damon demanded. "Can you tell me what the hell is going on?"

Craning her neck to see as she hopped around to get her jeans on, Elena groaned. "My mother."

"Your mother." Running his hand through his hair, Damon needed answers. "Your mother is being driven around in an official car? Is she an ambassador, or something?" He knew within a few weeks of meeting Elena that there had to be something out of the ordinary with the Gilbert family. He had spotted the personal security guard, who had done her best not to be noticed as she trailed Elena, months ago. They must have ditched her last night because as he thought about it the bodyguard had been nowhere in sight.

"She is not an ambassador."

"Then what is she?"

She froze. There were footsteps. People were climbing the stairs to his flat and Elena's breath caught before she was able to respond.

"My mother is the queen," she said hoarsely.

Of all the things she could have said, that was the last thing Damon had expected. "What?"

"My mother is Queen Miranda of Mystic Falls. My father is Grayson Alessandro Gilbert."

What the hell? "So that makes you a…a princess?"

Elena nodded at the same time there was a knock on the door.

"Why am I only just hearing about this now, Elena?" Damon's jaw tightened. "It is kind of a big deal."

"I kept it quiet so I could be normal."

"Normal. Oh. Am I part of your quest for normalcy?" Had she used him? Had he misjudged her?

"No, it was nothing like that, but—"

"Princess Elena?" A clipped, accented voice came booming from the hallway along with a more forceful knock. "Your Highness, are you alright?"

"Be right there," Damon responded. Grabbing a t-shirt from the basket of folded laundry on the couch, he pulled it over his head. "Can I let them in?"

Elena wiped her eyes and fluffed her hair. "Do I look okay? I mean do you think that—"

"That your mother is going to be able to tell you had sex all night?"

Damn, he regretted the moment those words left his mouth. The way her mouth dropped open Damon could see he had shocked her as well. And hurt her.

"That wasn't what I meant."

With her arms wrapped around her middle, her long straight hair tucked behind her ear, Elena looked young, scared and Damon had never felt so guilty.

"It is alright," she responded. But it wasn't alright.

The knocking on the door had gone to pounding. "I'm going to let them in before the goons in the hallway break down the door."

Her nod was tentative, afraid, and Damon's instinct was to hold her, protect her from whatever had her so frightened. He wanted to let her know it was going to be okay. But the truth was, he had no idea what was going to happen when he opened the door. Based on Elena's nerves, he could only imagine how this was going to go.

He flipped the deadbolt and before he could even turn the knob, the door burst open and he was pushed against the wall with a .45 calibre pistol pressed under his chin. Nope. Not good at all.

"Tell me why I shouldn't blow your brains out?" the goon growled. He was an older man, maybe in his forties—big and blond, he sounded like a character out of an action film—the guy wanted to affect the air of the lethal professional, but in Damon's mind he was on the same level. In one quick move, Damon had disarmed him and laid the man out on the floor. He popped the magazine out of the gun, kept the ammo, and handed the empty Glock back to the goon who was flat on his back and gasping for breath.

In the meantime, the woman he had seen out his window, Elena's mother, came through the door. And more than just walking in, the Queen made an entrance. Her royal blue wrap flowed off her tall, slender frame, and while she and her daughter had a strong resemblance to one another, the Queen definitely didn't possess her daughter's softness or warmth. No. Her Majesty was hard as nails.

She looked Damon up one side and down the other, and he had to give the woman credit, he couldn't tell what she thought of him. Instead, she went to her daughter and embraced her.

"We were so worried, Elena. What if something had happened to you?"

"I was safe, Mama."

"I wouldn't have let anything happen to her," Damon said. Damn. He wasn't planning on saying anything; he was going to take everything in and figure out where he fit.

The queen approached. "Based on poor Jasper's condition, I have no doubt you could protect her, Mr…"

"Salvatore." There was no getting away from his conditioning. He pulled to his full height, almost standing at attention. "Damon Salvatore, madam."

"You are American. And in their military?" His green tee shirt with the word ARMY across the chest gave him away. Thinking about it now, he might have done that on purpose.

"Former Army Ranger, but I no longer serve. I'm a graduate fellow."

"How old are you?"

This sounds like an interrogation, he realised.

"Twenty-five."

"I see. And you have been seeing my daughter?"

"Yes, madam. For several months." If only he could add that they were the best months of his life. "I love your daughter."

He hadn't meant to say that out loud, especially since he was pretty pissed off. It wasn't the way he intended to present himself to Elena's parents, but locking eyes with Elena, Damon could see she loved him, too. She may not have been honest about who she was, but what she felt was all over her face and it was very, very real.

"That is lovely, it is. And I don't mean to trivialize this relationship as it is obvious by my daughter's presence in your flat at this early hour, that this is quite serious."

Moving to Damon's side, Elena took his hand. "I love him, too, Mama."

"Oh, Elena, my sweet girl. I know this is hard, but we have discussed it. Your life is not your own. What you feel for this man will pass. Your duty is to your country and any match made for you must reflect that."

Duty? What was she talking about?

Damon could see Elena's eyes filling with tears. The urge to hold her was back.

Scratch that—it was so much more. He wanted to take her away from here, because it appeared that was the only way he could keep from losing her.

"I'm very sorry, Damon," the queen said. "But you won't be able to continue this relationship with my daughter. I'm sure you are a fine young man, but she has obligations. Elena, get your things."

Obligations? He was so angry he could spit nails. Thinking about Elena, with her free spirit and big heart, being stuffed into a life of obligations was heart-breaking. But then he watched her do exactly what her mother told her to do, and Damon understood very quickly that she was never really his. And she never would be.

"I am so sick and tired of my obligations," Elena spat. "What about my life? What I want to do?"

"Elena, this isn't anything we are going to talk about in front of an outsider. Not to mention, this disagreement has run its course. You are a member of Mystic Falls royal family. You will most certainly not marry an American soldier." The Queen sniffed her disapproval as she said the words, inferring that Damon was some kind of lowlife.

"You are insufferable, Mama. Damon is a good man."

"You are in line to the throne, Elena. Your responsibility has always been, and always will be, to your country. Good man or not, this is not going to happen. Your duty is elsewhere. Surely your soldier can understand that."

Elena was hurting and it killed Damon to see her like this. But what the queen said about duty? That was something he could understand. Knowing Elena as he did, he understood if she walked away from her family, from her country, to be with him, she would never really be happy, so Damon made a quick decision. He would be the bad guy. He would end it and end it quickly. She would probably wind up hating him.

"Could we have a moment, madam?"

The queen looked back and forth between him and Elena, finally nodding. It took less than ten seconds for her and her bodyguard to clear the room.

Once the door clicked shut, Damon moved to where Elena was standing by the big window He turned her to face him, and the pain in her eyes broke his heart even more. "You should have told me."

"I know, but it would have kept you away from me altogether."

"So instead we got involved in a doomed relationship. And you knew it."

"I didn't think it would come to this. I never thought it was "doomed," as you put it."

"What did you think would happen? Are you that naïve?" His jaw hardened. "You are a princess, for goodness sake! Did you think you can convince your mother, your family, that you could be with someone like me?"

Furious, she snapped. "What do you mean someone like you? They should be thrilled a man like you, who is honourable, brave, and brilliant, feels anything for me at all, much less love. They are pompous snobs, my parents." She took a breath. "Don't get me wrong, my mother is probably one of the strongest, most intuitive rulers my country has ever had. But as a mother, she is more stuck on protocol than my happiness."

Damon couldn't help but feel satisfied by how she defended him, even though it didn't change anything. "My knowledge of Mystic Falls is limited, but your mother has her hands full with some very vocal critics of your family who, quite frankly, could be a risk to all of you."

"What are we going to do?" She sat on the edge of the sofa, dropped her head and wiped at her eyes. "I can't bear the thought of being without you. We have to do something. I have to do something."

This meant she either had to make a choice to abandon her family, her heritage, or Damon had to walk away. Even if Elena didn't think her family needed her, he could see now, they did.

They needed her compassion, her love of people, and her ability to understand delicate situations to balance the hardness he saw in her mother. Leaving behind who she was and all she knew was fine for a few years at university, but not for a lifetime.

It was clearer now that he had to make the break because she wasn't going to.

"Everything has changed, Elena."

Elena shook her head. "No."

"Dammit!" He cursed. "Everything has changed and you know it."

"Okay, fine, yeah, I mean, everything has changed. I'm happy. So are you, Damon. Just like you were last night before you knew about any of this.

His mouth thinned. "You know what would make me happy? To know that this entire time that I have been completely in love with you; that what you actually felt for me; was real."

"It is real. I know that it is real, Damon."

"You shouldn't have gotten involved with me. I get that you wanted to be normal, but how can I even trust that what you feel for me is real? That you didn't just want to—I don't know—scratch an itch." The shadow that crossed her face let him know exactly how much that comment had wounded her.

Her eyes widened. "Damon, are you serious? Scratch an itch?"

"I'm dead serious. I have got to cut my losses here. It is bad enough I'm going to feel like shit because you are gone, but to know I was just part of some game? That sucks." Standing, she took a few tentative steps in his direction and for a split second, he didn't know if he could go through with it. But he couldn't stop, not now. Pushing her away, back to her own life, was the only solution. "Go, Princess. Have a good life."

She started to speak but stopped, almost like she realized that there was nothing left to say. Mustering all the pride she could, her back straight, Elena picked up her purse and jacket.

She took a breath, her lip trembled, but she stayed composed. For all her outward bluster, her big personality, if Damon had learned anything about Elena since they had been together, it was that she had a tender and sensitive heart. And he could see how deep he had cut her as the sparkle left her brown-doe eyes.

"You were never a game, Damon. Not ever." Walking to the door, she yanked it open before saying her final piece. "I thought I knew you." She paused. "More than that, I thought you knew me. I guess I was wrong."

She didn't say goodbye. He listened to her footsteps fade as she descended the staircase; watched her as she walked out of the building and to the waiting car. She didn't look up towards his window, not even a passing glance.

Once she was gone, Damon sank into his couch cushions and picked up her scent—light, spicy, and tinged with their lovemaking. It mocked him. He figured this was just the beginning. As time passed, he wouldn't get over her, instead he would suffer for every unkind word he uttered to her. He had just been such a bastard he deserved to be miserable for the rest of his life.

Damon Salvatore was so completely screwed…and definitely not in a good way.

I had re watched some royal movies "Princess' Diary" and "The Prince and Me" in the recent weeks and I thought I would try to write a royal Delena tale:)

I hope you guys/gays will enjoy this. I promise I will try my best to bring out the dynamics and chemistry of Delena. Watch the space:)