Title: Amaranthine

Rating: M

Genre: AU/AH

Pairing(s): Bonnie/Stefan, Bonnie/Silas, Silas/Qestiyah (one-sided), Damon/Qetsiyah, Mason/Qetsiyah, Matt/Caroline, Matt/Katherine, Tyler/Rebekah, mentions of past Stefan/Elena and Bonnie/Kol, etc.

Summary: Bonnie Bennett returns to Mystic Falls to aid her descendent and hopes to make peace with her sister Tessa. However, her hopes for a reconciliation with her sister are dashed when she comes across a ghost from the past in the form of someone with the face of the very man that tore their relationship apart in the first place.

Warnings: Character Death, Violence, Infidelity, Sexual Content, Non-Canon, etc.

Author's Note: This is a repost. I am currently working on reposting the majority of my fics slowly but surely. Things that you need to know about this fic are it is AU, Bonnie and Qetsiyah are sisters and the rest will be explained as you read. I did some minor editing but there will likely be a few mistakes still. Thanks for all the support from those who sent positivity during my dark times. Happy Reading!

Part One|| Haunted

Mystic Falls, Virginia 2009

Bonnie Bennett stood on the doorstep of her descendant's house. The last time that she had set foot in Virginia had been in the sixties when she had helped the woman with both her powers and the college protests that she had spent her college years organizing. Now Bonnie had been called again for a much more serious means of assistance.

Bonnie knocked on the door and waited. After a moment she heard noise coming from inside of the house and the door was opened revealing Sheila Bennett on the other side. Bonnie smiled at the younger woman, for she was younger than Bonnie though Sheila appeared older in appearance. Bonnie had lived through centuries of time, over two thousand years, but out of all of her descendants Sheila had always been her favorite.

As Sheila moved forward, leaving the security of her home in order to embrace Bonnie, Bonnie hugged her in return. "Hello Sheila," she said, "You're as beautiful as ever." Bonnie was telling the truth as she looked at the woman who stood before her in a tan dress and brown cardigan. Her short hair was curled and her pink painted lips were lifted up into a smile that she reserved for Bonnie.

Sheila sighed happily as she stepped back. "There's no reason for you to flatter me," Sheila said, "We both know that I am an old woman now."

Bonnie laughed. "You're still beautiful," she said, "And you aged rather gracefully." Bonnie had wanted to age, to die a natural death in her time, even though the life expectancy had been much shorter for people then. However, she had been robbed of that choice long ago.

Sheila stepped to the side and motioned for Bonnie to enter. It was odd seeing Bonnie so much the same and yet changed to fit the times. Last time she had scene Bonnie she had been in a checkered sack dress dancing to The Miracles. It was a far cry from the black jeans, black and white lace crop top, and the black leather jacket she now wore. It was surreal to think that once upon a time Bonnie had been her best friend. "Come in," she offered. Bonnie stepped over the threshold and into the house. "You grew out your hair," Sheila said, "I like it."

Bonnie grinned reaching up to touch her long dark curls, she had pinned back to one side. It had been in a short bob the last time that Sheila had seen her when they were together in the sixties. "I like to switch it up every few decades," Bonnie said as she walked around the house.

Bonnie walked into the living room and stopped in front of the fireplace. She picked up the picture of her and Sheila that sat on the mantle. Sheila had been much younger then, only seventeen, and though the woman had changed in appearance Bonnie aside from her hair had remained the same. After so many years of being what she was, she was used to seeing people around her age, and grow old and die. However, that didn't mean that it hurt any less when she lost someone.

Sheila had been the closest thing to a sister that Bonnie had had after she had lost her own sister and while seeing her made Bonnie happy it also reminded her of Sheila's mortality and her own immortality. It reminded her of the fact that there were decades of people that she had loved and that had loved her that she had had to let go of or watch perish.

"How have you been, Sheila?" Bonnie asked, turning to the woman as she returned the picture to its place.

"Fine," Sheila said, "Just getting used to living alone now that Gregory has passed and trying to not to work too hard at Whitmore. But this isn't a social call, so there isn't much time to catch up." Sheila walked deeper into the room and sat down on the couch. "This is about the Town Council," she said, watching Bonnie closely as she spoke, "They mean business this time. They are starting a crusade against the supernatural and when I say the supernatural I mean all of us; vampires, werewolves, and-"

"Witches," Bonnie finished and Sheila nodded.

"I have an ally among them," Sheila explained, "Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes. She understands our role in things that witches have been protecting this town for a long time, and has agreed to keep my secret but it won't be long before I am suspected. Contrary to what this town likes to cover up the burnings of our people that happened here weren't so long ago."

Bonnie frowned, looking down at her feet as she thought about Emily. She was still guilty over the fact that she hadn't been able to save her. "So what are your plans?" Bonnie asked.

Sheila shrugged. "I have none as of yet," she said, "I am just trying to call as many people to come down as I can. I am older now, and my powers aren't what they used to be. I'm not strong enough to fight this on my own."

"You won't have to," Bonnie said, seriously, her eyes looking up to meet Sheila's.

Sheila smiled. "Funny," she said, "That's what that sister of yours said when I called her. As reckless as that one is she agreed to come as soon as I asked."

Bonnie swallowed. "You asked Tessa to come?" she asked, and then, "How is she?"

"You'll know for yourself soon enough," Sheila said, "She's coming down with Lucy. As much as you two like to ask about each other you'd think you would have made up by now. How long has it been now?"

"A very long time," Bonnie whispered, her face falling. She had received the call from Lucy that had warned her of her sister's presence in Mystic Falls and the reason behind it. So much time had passed since Bonnie had lost both her sister and her first love that there were days that went by where she had been able to escape thoughts of either, and dark times where she had been able to take out her pain in ways she wasn't proud of. She had been able to love others as a sister as she had Sheila, and there had been men that had entered her life that had come close to closing the hole in her heart that her first love had left but she was reminded after speaking with Lucy that the wounds that Qetsiyah and Silas had left were still raw and real even after all of this time.

"When I was younger," Bonnie murmured, "She used to call me her little dove. She said I was soft and frail and when I spoke it was no louder that the cooing of a dove. I didn't like it. I didn't want to be frail and weak and sick all the time like I was. I wanted to be strong and powerful, like her. Just like her." Bonnie looked out the window, her thoughts lost in the past. "After we stopped speaking," she sighed, "I missed it. I still miss it."

Sheila stepped forward and placed her hand on Bonnie's shoulder. "You're not frail anymore," Sheila said, "Even if you didn't want it she gave you that gift when she made you what you are. And even if you didn't realize it when I was younger, I wanted to be strong and powerful like you."

Bonnie laughed. "Well you are," she said, "And you're a much better woman than I ever was besides."

"You always sell yourself short," Sheila chastised, "How about we have a drink and I'll tell what the town's been up to."

"I thought they say small towns never change," Bonnie said, as she followed Sheila into the kitchen.

"All things change with time," Sheila commented, "But I'm sure you know that."

Bonnie reached up and touched the little silver dove that hung from the silver chain around her neck. A gift that Tessa had given her in happier times. It was preserved by magic so it never faded or tarnished in two thousand years, not the way their relationship had. "That is true," Bonnie sighed, "I do know."

:::

Byzantium, Greece, 365 B.C.

"The emperor lifted his dagger, and plunged it into his own breast," the storyteller said, adjusting his chiton and stroking his graying beard with his thick fingers, "And in doing so, he was finally able to join his beloved, in death."

The crowd that had gathered applauded and began to throw gold coins into the clay pot that sat in front of the man, at his feet. As the crowd thinned, one girl remained seated, waiting for the others to disperse. When the crowd had all but disappeared her own brown hand reached out and dropped three gold coins into the pot.

The storyteller smiled at the girl, as her green eyes met his blue ones. "The third time I have had the pleasure of your company in as many days," he said, "Do you find my stories that enjoyable?"

The girl laughed, uncovering her hair and face, draping the blue cloth she had unwrapped from around her over her shoulders. It was rare that she was well enough to go out and she loved to hear him so much, that she wanted to take advantage of the brief stint of good health that her body was allowing her. "I had hoped to go unnoticed," she said, "I could not help but return once I had come once. These people, they just sit here and listen to you for hours. No matter how much I watch you myself I cannot name exactly what holds their interest so."

"There interest comes from a need to escape reality and see into the unknown," he said, "There is no trick to telling a story. You simply must believe what you are telling, and then the only thing left is to make people see what you want them to see. The only trouble I find is in that with most, if you do not catch their interest in the first few minutes then your audience is lost to you."

"I used to write poetry as a girl," she said, "But the art of storytelling has always fascinated me above all else. I am of the same mind as Plato, I believe in the oral tradition rather than the written word. I have just always found it very hard to get those around me to sit still long enough to listen." She was usually interrupted by her own coughing and fatigue.

When she had turned sixteen she had been diagnosed with phthisis. No one had expected her to live more than a few weeks. It had been nearly a year, some days were good and others were bad but there was never a time when her illness didn't weigh on her. It kept her isolated and kept her body too weak to use her own powers.

The storyteller laughed regaining the girl's attention, and giving the girl a wink. "You have a lovely voice," he said, "Very soft, very calming. And you are exceptionally beautiful. You could do it if you wished. Simply do as I said and if you ever become unsure then come back as you have done and watch."

The girl nodded. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped as she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up and smiled at her older sister. "Qetsiyah," she greeted, "Have you and Amara gotten what you have come for?"

Her sister nodded smiling in return. Qetsiyah held up the basket full of pomegranates and beamed down at her. "We have lamb as well," she grinned, "All of my favorites."

The girl rolled her eyes as stood to her feet. "So much fuss over your departure," she said, "I am just glad my appetite has returned and I can take full advantage of our parents spoiling you."

"You are spoiled every day, Bonfilia," Qetsiyah reminded her, "Besides don't act as if you will not miss me. I know that you will be lonely since I am taking Amara as well, but I have to learn to control and use my powers. I will be able to do that with the Travelers."

Bonfilia nodded. "Yes," she said, "And as mother always says, power yields to power. Since I cannot take advantage of the power our line has to offer then you must." She turned back to the storyteller and smiled. "Thank you," she nodded at the man, "I will return again soon."

He nodded in turn. "I would expect no different," he said.

She stood and fell into step with her sister, Qetsiyah's handmaiden walking slightly behind them carrying the larger of the load of their purchases.

Bonfilia had been dreading her sister leaving with The Travelers for two weeks. Her parents had discussed the matter at length and had decided it was time for Qetsiyah to hone her gifts. While she was happy for her sister she would miss her terribly. She had no friends and because of her illness she was often bedridden. Qetsiyah was her constant companion and she dreaded the coming loneliness. Her only solace during the day was found in front of the storyteller.

Byzantium was not such a terrible place, she simply could hardly take part in it being trapped in her home. In truth the safest place for Qetsiyah was with The Travelers now that her powers had surfaced completely. Without control it was dangerous and Qetsiyah was often led by emotions which meant that she was prone to spontaneous bursts of magic.

Still their city was one that was accepting of their power. Byzantium was believed by its citizens to be under the protection of the goddess Hecate and so their family and the others like them were viewed by the humans as demigods and worshipped because of their abilities. It was likely the riches that that status afforded them that kept Bonfilia's health up as much as it was even with her illness.

Bonfilia bowed in respect as they passed the statue of Hecate that had been erected in the city's center, her sister doing the same.

At times Bonfilia felt like a failure to her line as she had powers that were great, but they did damage to her weak body whenever she used them. She wanted Qetsiyah to be great, she didn't want to hold her sister back and so she rested enough so that her illness would not hinder her for at least a few days and her sister could depart in good spirits. "I will miss you, you know," Bonfilia said, "Every time I breathe I will ache with it."

"I would stay if I could and I will visit whenever I can," Qetsiyah insisted, "But you must promise to write me. Whenever you feel up to it, you must. How can I learn a thing if I don't know without a doubt that you are alive and well?"

"Very well," she agreed, taking her sister's free hand in her own, "I will write and I will even write of the storyteller's stories as to entertain you. For anyone else I would not go to such troubles, it is only because I love you."

Qetsiyah leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "And I adore you, mikrí̱ adelfí̱," she said, "My love, my sweet little dove."

:::

Mystic Falls, Virginia 2009

Tessa Bennett, once known simply as, Qetsiyah, listened to the sound of her sister sleeping in the guest room that Sheila had offered her. She and Lucy had only just arrived after driving all night from Missouri. She reached out and grabbed the door knob and opened the door slowly, her mind lost in memories. Every time that she looked back on it, she found a new hint from a moment that had passed between them all that should have revealed the truth to her.

She remembered the night that Silas and Bonnie had met. She had foolishly been relieved that Silas seemed to like Bonfilia; that the two would get along. It was laughable now that she had not seen it, the way that Silas had reacted to her, the way that he could not keep his eyes off of her and that was before their engagement had even been announced. It was obvious. If she had just seen his interest, she could have kept herself from even getting entangled with him, she could have stopped the betrayal before it happened, and he could have as well, if he had simply told the truth. It had not been love that had tied her and Silas together, only respect, friendship, and power. She could have let him go, would have, especially for her little dove's sake.

Tessa walked into the room quietly stopping in front of the bed that rested in the middle of the room. She had watched her sister sleep many times before, long ago when they were human. But this was not the frail sick little creature that Qetsiyah had watched over. She was stronger, harder, and more powerful. She was no longer her little dove.

It was true that Qetsiyah had been in love with the idea of Silas, but it was Bonfilia that was the true love of her life. Bonfilia that was her other half, and Bonfilia that she would have turned herself inside out to make happy. Bonfilia that she missed whenever she breathed.

That was the reason she both didn't understand the betrayal and did. She understood the lies because she knew that Bonnie had not wanted to see her in pain, and yet she didn't understand the lies as she knew that Bonnie had known, still knew, that were she told the truth that she would have given up Silas just to see Bonnie smile. But what was done could not be undone, just as Qetsiyah could not undo the actions she had taken against her sister in her grief.

But still Tessa had gotten no satisfaction from watching Bonnie suffer, because she had never enjoyed seeing her sister unhappy, even her own unhappiness didn't allow her to enjoy it.

Tessa reached out and stroked Bonnie's face with her fingertips. Her plan had been to come to Mystic Falls, destroy that council and leave. But things were not that simple. While Qetsiyah had no qualms with murder not only would Sheila not allow it, but the deaths would either cause suspicion or prove that the council's fears had been valid all along and a war would be raged.

They had to be smart, infiltrate the town slowly and gain information. Sheila had already made plans to act as their guardian an enroll Bonnie into school so that she could befriend the children of the council members and Lucy had gotten a waitressing job at Mystic Grill thanks to Sheila's pull as well. That left Tessa, and she would be interning in the office of Mayor Carol Lockwood, leader of the council, her objective was to get into the woman's good graces.

It would be easy. Tessa could manipulate with the best of them, as could her sister so she had discovered when she had checked on her over the years. As a human Bonfilia had been so giving and loving and full of light. But as an immortal her past was almost as dark as Tessa's own. It pained her that she had left her sister to deal with the eternity that she had cursed her to alone, even if her reasoning had been valid to her and sound.

That was the main issue that Tessa had with the time that it would take for them to bring the council down, her sister's presence. They would be living under the same roof after spending so much time apart, time in which nothing between them had been resolved. And even if Tessa got no real pleasure from seeing her sister suffer, she still resented her, and a part of her hated her. She was at a stalemate. She could no longer act against her sister and yet she could not forgive her either.

:::

Byzantium, Greece, 365 B.C.

Silas had very little interest in meeting Qetsiyah's sister. However, he was very pragmatic in nature and so he knew that getting her sister's approval would be helpful to him in the long run. He cared for Qetsiyah deeply. He did not believe in love in the romantic sense of the word, but felt that he loved her as much as he was capable of loving another person. They went well together, they were equals in the sense of their power and had similar dispositions. The match would be beneficiary to their families as well, there was history there and all and all it was very practical.

When Qetsiyah had approached him with the idea of the immortality spell he had not understood why she was so adamant about the creation. They cared for one another, but not in the way in which an eternity together would be appealing to him. However, once she had told him about her sister's illness, Silas had understood.

In her time with The Travelers, other than magic, and the arts, Qetsiyah had spoken of little else outside of Bonfilia. She adored the girl that much was clear, and when they had gotten news from her mother that Bonfilia was not as well as she would have had Qetsiyah believe, the witch was beside herself at that thought of losing her. She had approached him with the idea for the immortality spell the next day. Silas had been hesitant and even Qetsiyah promising to provide immortality for him as well as herself and Bonfilia had not remedied that, and so she then had insisted that once he met Bonfilia he would understand.

It was for that reason, that she and Silas had made the journey by horse and cart to Byzantium. Even if their time there didn't end in Silas agreeing to the spell, he hoped that he could ingratiate himself Bonfilia at least.

Though, it had not been announced yet, he and Qetsiyah were engaged to be married. Her father had approved the match and so he was not worried about the mother. The real problem lied, as far as he was told, with her sister, Bonfilia. Their father had told him through letters that Bonfilia was extremely attached to her sister and from the stories Qetsiyah had told him of her and the letters that Qetsiyah had sent home to her sister Silas knew the attachment was mutual. Both parents had told him that even if Qetsiyah loved him, if he did not have the approval of her sister then he would not have Qetsiyah's approval. "They are two sides of the same drachma," the father had said, and as Silas had always trusted and took counsel with him, he decided to take his counsel in this as well.

That was why he followed Qetsiyah across the court yard of her childhood home to the corner where her sister was telling tales by the fire. She apparently was fond of the practice, and had taken to doing so when she was well enough. The townsfolk loved it and it made her sister feel less lonely so Qetsiyah approved. However, Silas had never liked spoken tales, but Silas thought that if he sat with the others and acted interested, it would be the step he needed in the right direction in winning the younger girl's approval.

"She is extremely sensitive, my little dove," Qetsiyah told him, "So you mustn't challenge her." He knew what she was getting at.

That was how he showed his interest in women, genuine interest anyway. He challenged them, pushed their buttons. Most of them broke and became embarrassed and he lost interest rather quickly. She was likely trying to save her sister the humiliation. She needn't bother as he was of no mind to harass a frail sick girl who liked to hear stories. "Very well," he said, "I will be sure to be the perfect gentlemen."

Qetsiyah gave him a skeptical look but didn't comment. He smirked as they came upon the edge of the crowd just as Bonfilia was finishing her tale. The crowd applauded and he was certain it was more to do with them not wanting to displease the hosting family than with them enjoying the tale.

The view of Bonfilia was obscured by so many people, but the crowd parted as they made their way to the forefront. He heard her laughter first, and the sound of it made is stomach clench and gave him pause. He hesitated, causing Qetsiyah to grab his arm and pull him forward.

He followed with more reluctance this time. As they stopped in front of the girl that was still seated in front of the crowd, Qetsiyah looked her over and greeted her fondly. "Sister," she said, "I have missed you. I did not expect to see you looking so well."

The girl stood and beamed at Qetsiyah, embracing her tightly without hesitation. "It is your presence," she said, "My health always returns when you do. You are my panacea. Come and sit. I have been practicing my tales. I am almost as good as the storyteller now."

"There is someone I would like you to meet first," Qetsiyah said, as she pulled away from her sister and nodded toward him, "This is Silas."

As she turned toward him, finally he looked at her. He swallowed. He had seen her once before he realized. On their trip over. She had been at the spring that ran by the crossroads getting water. He had thought her some sort of dream or apparition, for to him she was that beautiful. It had not mattered then, he had pushed it out of his mind for he had other more pressing matters to see to, and he had doubted that he would ever see her again. But there she was in front of him, like some sort of raging fire, burning so brightly that he found that could not look directly at her. She did not look ill to him, nor like a dove, but a phoenix rising from the ashes.

"Hello," she said politely, "I have heard much about you. I am Bonfilia."

He wished he had never seen her face again, and now he had heard her voice, her laughter. It was worse than when she was just some unattainable beauty on the roadside that he dare not even hope to want or think it possible to see once more. But to have her there, in front of him. And she would always be there, now that he had silently made up his mind that he would work with Qetsiyah on the spell that would save her from the death that illness condemned her to. Yet she was still unreachable for another reason altogether. No, Silas did not believe in romantic love, but just her existence could sway him.

He felt Qetsiyah nudge his side and he cleared his throat. "Hello," he said, finally looking at her to meet her gaze, regretting it a moment later, "A pleasure to meet you."

She bowed politely and retook her seat, her face seemed impassive and he wanted to change her expression somehow. To make her smile, or rile her up. To inspire any type of emotion that would make her pay for the sudden turmoil she had caused in him.

"Come, Bonfilia," Qetsiyah said, sitting before her sister and pulling Silas down to sit beside her, "Tell us one of your tales. I am sure that Silas would delight in hearing one."

In truth Silas preferred to read alone, or at least he had, and Qetsiyah knew as much. However, he knew that Qetsiyah wanted them to get along which was likely the reason that she had asked. But that was not the reason that Silas now wanted to hear one.

"Really?" Bonfilia asked, raising an eyebrow, "I have been told by you more than once that he prefers to read alone and has always frowned on the oral tradition. So perhaps, I should spare him." It was clear she was teasing her sister about knowing such details about Silas' personal habits but Silas only cared that Bonfilia had remembered that detail herself after being told.

The pale blue dress Bonfilia wore contrasted with her skin in a way that seemed to make her glow as she smiled playfully at Qetsiyah, whose own expression became murderous. She looked at the girl as if to say, "I told you to behave." To which Bonfilia responded with a wink of the eye.

Silas was pleased she had started the game, for his next words would not be seen by everyone as genuine interest in Bonfilia, though they were an expression of just that. "Perhaps you should ask the source before you make your assumptions," he said.

"So you deny it then," Bonfilia asked, her attention turning back to him, "And are by extension calling my sister a liar?"

"Bonfilia," Qetsiyah chastised, though the crowd laughed. They were quite used to Bonfilia's antics by now and found that she was a great source of entertainment. After Qetsiyah's departure a friend of her mother's had come to help take care of the girl on the days where her illness got the better of her and sometimes Bonfilia would tell her magnificent tales that she told to others. As the word spread, more people began to come, to listen to her tales and to take care of her in turn.

"No," Silas said, giving Qetsiyah a comforting look so that she would know that he was not offended, "She is right. I do prefer to read alone but that is merely because I have yet to meet a good storyteller. One that can keep me invested in the tale from beginning to the end."

The playfulness left Bonfilia, and her face suddenly became serious. "I see," she nodded, "I was told by the storyteller in the market place that if you do not engage the audience in the first few minutes of the tale then you have lost them completely. But for someone who frowns on the oral tradition like you, I would guess however, it would be the first few seconds."

Silas grinned, but nodded. "That would be a correct theory," he said, "It is not fair that you know me so well and yet I know very little of you."

"That is because Qetsiyah writes to me of little else and you are rather easy to read," she responded, giggling as her sister glared at her, "Actually, you remind me of a character from a story about…death."

"Death?" He asked. She nodded, and Silas didn't realize that the crowd was suddenly paying close attention to him. "In what manner?"

"Well," Bonfilia said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and leaning forward slightly, "On a night much like tonight a man came to a crossroads while traveling near Athens. This man...in appearance looked almost exactly like you."

Silas tried to feign disinterest but slowly she was pulling him in. Between her voice, her beauty, and the intriguing aspects of her tale it was impossible for him to look away. "Like me?"

Bonfilia nodded. "And on that same night," she said, "While walking along the roadway he came upon the very personification of death himself, Thanatos."

Suddenly Bonfilia had the whole crowd's attention, though some were still watching Silas, surprised at how easily she seemed to hold someone who frowned upon the oral tradition captive. "Had he come for him?" Silas inquired.

Bonfilia titled her head to the side and then back again. "Yes," she said, "And no." She reached out and wrapped her hand around his wrist, pulling it so that she could place it in her free hand palm up. "You see," she said, tracing a line down the center of his palm with her index finger, "The palm of his hand bore Death's mark and so at birth and before the man was meant to reach Hades, he belonged to Death."

Everyone leaned forward and waited for her to finish her tale. Even Qetsiyah looked fascinated and she usually dismissed Bonfilia's tales as she had heard most of them multiple times. "In what way was he bound to death?" Qetsiyah asked, as Bonfilia dropped Silas' hand, "Was he forced into the Underworld? Would he ever be able to escape?"

"I have forgotten myself," Bonfilia sighed, "Silas does not like spoken tales. I am afraid I must refuse to continue to bore him."

Qetsiyah rolled her eyes as she realized what her sister had done. "Really, Bonfilia," she frowned. "You've proven your point. He's been drawn in. The least you could do is finish the tale, mikró peristéri mou."

"Just because you and the others insist on it," Bonfilia shrugged, "Does not mean that Silas wishes for me to irk him further, polyagapiménoi adelfi."

Qetsiyah opened her mouth to speak but Silas shook his head, silencing her. "I am a man that can admit when I have been bested," he said, "I have been taken in by your tale and I beg of you to finish it. There is even a drachma in it for you if you can keep me interested until the very end."

"Only one?" Bonfilia pouted, causing her sister to grab a grape from a nearby bowl, as their mother had laden the courtyard with food, and toss it at the girl. The crowd laughed when she caught the grape in her mouth.

He became temporarily distracted as she smiled at him, but shook it off quickly. "We can negotiate the price once you have finished," Silas offered.

"Very well," Bonfilia conceded, as she went on with her tale.

Silas did not think that he would have any issues getting along with Qetsiyah's sister at all, and that was to be the biggest problem.

:::

Mystic Falls, Virginia, 2009

Bonnie Bennett sipped the coffee from the mug that Sheila handed her as she looked over the list of town council members and studied that names of their children, the ones that she would be forced to befriend once she began attending Mystic Falls High School.

"Hecate, knows I am too old for this shit," Bonnie muttered to herself, ignoring as Sheila snorted out a laugh as she sipped her own coffee.

"Just remember I would do the same for you," Sheila commented, as she stuffed the essays she had spent the night grading into her briefcase.

Bonnie raised an eyebrow at her but didn't comment as she crossed her legs and set down her coffee. She adjusted the causal rose heather dress that she was wearing as the movement had caused the ruched crossover skirt to ride up slightly. She wasn't sure what high school students wore customarily but decided they would just have to deal with her dress and the lace up gladiator sandals that she was wearing as well. "I've never been to high school so it'll be an experience at least," she said.

She had never felt the need to attend school. The idea bored her as being what she was she learned things rather quickly and the changing times never bothered her much. She had experienced more history than they taught in much school. She had been immersed in more cultures and spoke more languages as well. Besides she felt that there were better things she could be doing with her immortality.

"That's one way of looking at it," Sheila shrugged, sounding amused.

Bonnie went back to looking over the names and her eyes stopped when she reached the name Salvatore. She frowned and was about to ask Sheila about it when she heard footsteps entering the kitchen.

She looked up and watched as her sister walked into the room. It was the first time she had seen her sister in some time, but Qetsiyah looked much the same. She adverted her gaze as her sister's eyes bore into her.

Tessa eyed Bonnie before she turned and smiled at Sheila. "Good morning, Sheila," she said.

"Good morning," Sheila said, looking in between the two of them warily. "If you two are planning on fighting then I only ask that you do it outside. I like my furniture just fine and I would rather you not break it."

Bonnie gave Sheila a look, before her expression turned affectionate. "No one is going to break your furniture, Sheila," she said, "Or should I call you Grams since that's what we're telling people now?"

Sheila huffed and gathered her things. "I'm leaving," she said, "You two play nice."

Bonnie watched her go, until she was out of sight. Sighing, she looked back down at the list of names.

"Hello sister," Tessa said, calmly, realizing that she would have to be the one to break the silence. It didn't surprise her as Bonnie had tried more than once to find her and clear the air between them. However, after being rejected so many times it was clear the Bonnie had gotten tired of trying.

Bonnie looked up at her and nodded. "Qetsiyah," she greeted. She was wearing an oversized white button up t-shirt covered in silver stars, thigh high black boots, and a pair of black leggings. Bonnie raised her eyebrow at the clothing choice. She opened her mouth to comment on Tessa's choice of wardrobe for her first day as an intern but her mouth shut as she remembered they no longer had that kind of relationship. "Where's Lucy?" She asked, more to fill the silence than out of curiosity.

Tessa laughed but there was no humor in it. "To think we were once so close and now we can't be in the same room without a buffer," she said.

Bonnie couldn't help but roll her eyes at the comment. "It isn't as if I did not attempt to reach out to you, Qetsiyah," Bonnie sighed, "You cannot speak to someone who refuses to listen. I got tired of trying."

Tessa felt as if she were being attacked even though she knew that was not Bonnie's intention. Still she immediately when on the defensive. "Perhaps I didn't wish to hear your lies," Qetsiyah spat.

"I never lied to you," Bonnie said, standing from her seat, "You're the one who didn't tell me about the spell. And if I hid the extent of my illness from you it was so that I would not cause you pain. And as for Silas-"

"Don't," Qetsiyah said, holding up her hand.

Bonnie shook her head and threw up her hands. "You love to call me a liar but the sad fact is that you don't wish to hear the truth," she said, "One day you are going to ask me and you will be ready to really hear me, sister. Just hope on that day that I still care enough about regaining what we have lost to tell you."

Tessa watched as Bonnie left without a single glance behind her.

:::

Byzantium, Greece, 365 B.C.

Qetsiyah frowned as she watched Bonfilia sleep. There were good days and bad days in terms of her illness. The day had been bad. There were cloths full of blood that Bonfilia had coughed up in a pile on the floor and due to her fatigue she had been in bed all day.

She was losing weight as well, something that her lack of appetite was not helping to alleviate. As her sister slept Qetsiyah allowed herself to cry. She could not cry while Bonfilia was awake, as she didn't want to burden her with her tears.

Qetsiyah jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder and wiped at her eyes frantically before she turned and faced Silas. "The spell has to get done," he said, "She cannot die. It is not an option."

"Do you think I do not know that?" Qetsiyah frowned, "I cannot exist in a world in which she does not. Either we both live or we both will die."

Silas's frown deepened. "What do you mean by that Qetsiyah?"

"I know I have a duty to you," she whispered, "That I promised to be your wife. But she is my other half. She has been my constant companion for my whole life. I cannot be without her. If we do not finish the spell in time, or her condition does not get better…I will take my own life."

"More of a reason for us to finish the spell," Silas said squeezing her shoulder.

She thought that perhaps he might try and talk her out of her choice to end her life but she realized as she looked at her sister, that were she awake Bonfilia was the only one that would. She was the only one that cared for her enough to do so. "We will finish it," she nodded, definitively, "We will save her."

:::

Mystic Falls, Virginia 2009

The only reason that Stefan Salvatore was looking forward to his first day of school after the summer was due to the fact that it would get him out of the house and away from his father and his brother. His mother had finally lost the battle to cancer during the start of the summer last year and in the interim between grieving and moving on, his father, Giuseppe, had taken to obsessing over the supernatural.

It had started with him unearthing some town legends and had gone on from there. Stefan thought the whole thing was ridiculous and an excuse not to think about their recent loss and so he attempted to stay as far away from it all as possible. It helped that his father and the council were attempting to be closed mouth about the whole thing and that made it easier for him to ignore the fact that it was even happening.

His brother on the other hand was embracing the idea. Damon had spent his entire life attempting to please their father and be seen as the better son. However, it wasn't until recently when Damon had decided to work with the council that he had gotten the opportunity.

Stefan didn't buy the idea that the supernatural existed. He was of the mind that if it had they would have encountered it in some form by now. But no matter what he said to his brother or his father there was nothing that could be done to dissuade them.

Stefan sighed as he walked over to his locker. He decided not to think about what was going on at home and focus on school. Perhaps he could manage to feel normal again.

As his locker popped open he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and smiled at his best friend, Caroline Forbes, and her boyfriend, Matt Donovan, who stood close behind her. "Hey, Care," he said.

"No time for greetings," Caroline said, her tone immediately serious, "There are two major points of concern that need to be addressed. The first being that Elena is going around school looking for you…meaning she has gone from depressed and cookie dough eating mode to stalker mode and will likely spend the whole school year trying to win you back."

Stefan ran a hand over his face. He had broken up with Elena Gilbert, when his mother's sickness had gotten worse because he wanted to focus on his family. Everyone had assumed that once his mother had gotten better that he and Elena would get back together. But she hadn't gotten better and so everyone had assumed that once Stefan had mourned her death that he and Elena would get back together. But he had mourned and they still hadn't gotten back together.

It wasn't that Stefan didn't care about her. He just wanted to move forward and every time he looked at her now, he thought about a time in his life that he would rather forget.

"The second point of concern would be?" Stefan asked, more to change the subject than due to actually interest.

"I told you he wouldn't take the bait about Elena," Matt said to Caroline before turning to Stefan, "The second point of concern is that there's a new girl and she's drop dead gorgeous and everyone is talking about her and now Care feels threatened."

Stefan laughed as Matt hissed in pain when Caroline elbowed him in the side. Matt knew how to talk himself into a hole; that was for sure. "Come on, Care," Stefan said, "Why don't you do what you did with Elena and make friends with her? What was that you said? Something about… befriending potential competition is the only way to stop the birth of an enemy. Or something equally as asinine."

"First of all," Caroline frowned, "It isn't silly it actually works. Second of all I can't just go up and talk to her. She's like...kind of intimidating. Okay?"

Stefan blinked at her. Caroline could go up and talk to anyone. He was pretty sure if the second coming of Christ were to ever actually occur, that Caroline would be the first one to approach him without hesitation or forethought on the matter. "Alright," Stefan said, "That's a first. Whoever this girl is I have to meet her."

Stefan retrieved his books from his locker and closed it, just as Matt looked over his shoulder. "Well," Matt said, "here's a prime opportunity since she's coming this way right now."

Stefan looked in the direction that Matt gestured in and he felt his world shift. He had never seen anyone so beautiful and he walked toward her without realizing it. As Caroline called out to stop him, her voice seemed far away. It didn't register to him that he had moved until he bumped into the girl. She jolted slightly and looked up at him with such a startled and shocked expression that he felt remorseful immediately.

"I'm sorry," Stefan said, instantly, "I didn't mean to bump into to you like that. I'm usually more aware of my surroundings." She blinked at him but she didn't say anything. "I'm Stefan," he tried, holding out his hand, "Stefan Salvatore."

She looked at him, studying him openly in a way that made him want to squirm. It seemed as if she was searching for something. He assumed she had found her answers when the next moment, she spoke. "I'm Bonnie," she said, after a pause, "Bonnie Bennett."

As she took his hand and shook it Stefan felt a jolt of something pass between them. It was an odd tingling sensation akin the shock of current that came with static cling. He frowned in confusion as she quickly pulled her hand away and cleared her throat.

"I haven't seen you around here before," Stefan said, more to keep the conversation going so that she wouldn't walk away than anything else, "You must be new."

She nodded, appearing to come back to herself. "Yes," she said, "I'm actually looking for room two eighty seven. You wouldn't happen to know where that is would you?"

Stefan smiled. "Yeah," he said, "Its close. I actually have my first class there too. I could walk with you if you want?"

She seemed hesitant, and Stefan was sure that she would decline. Even still he would be able to see her in class at least. And he wanted to see her, be near her, and be close to her. It was insane and he had never felt anything like it. But whatever it was, it was better than anything he had felt in a very long time.

She smiled suddenly, and Stefan's breath caught in his throat at the sight. "I'd like that," she said.

She began to walk again and Stefan fell into step next to her. He frowned as suddenly thunder could be heard from outside and the sound of rain soon followed. He knew that Matt and Tyler would be relieved that football practice would likely be canceled but he had been looking forward to it. "So much for the nice weather," he said, more to himself than her.

Bonnie shrugged. "I don't know," she said, quietly, "I've always liked the feel of the rain."

"Well," Stefan said, "Maybe we should skip class and go outside." She laughed, but a part of him was serious. Even though they had just met, if she wanted to go out into the rain, he would have went class or no class.

:::

Byzantium, Greece, 365 B.C.

Silas was supposed to be checking on Bonfilia and making sure the girl was as well as she could be. Qetsiyah had practically begged him to keep an eye on the progression of Bonfilia's illness as she worked on the immortality spell. She had been assisting her herself but the illness was not giving them time to spare to get the spell together and their planning their wedding was taking up time as well and so the situation could not be helped.

The problem was that the more time Silas spent with Bonfilia, the more obsessed with her that he became, and the girl seemed completely oblivious to the fact. He wasn't sure that he could keep assisting her. He was losing his focus and there were times that Silas was close to blurting out his true feelings.

At the moment things were quiet between them. They sat at the back of her house on a bench watching the rain silently. She was tired today, but she was able to move about with help. She didn't like having to remain in bed, but as the days passed it could not be avoided.

Qetsiyah had said that she would end her own life were Bonfilia to die and Silas was much of the same mind. He had no family outside of his uncles and cousins and they were not worth staying alive for. He had never loved anyone truly, but he was sure that he loved Bonfilia, there was no other word for what he was feeling.

"You are a dear friend to me," Bonfilia said, "I know that you are only here out of duty to my sister but it means a lot to me just the same."

It was when she called him friend that he doubted what he thought he saw sometimes in her eyes when she looked at him. "I am here for you, mikrí flóga mou," Silas told her, "There is only duty to you as a friend."

She smiled a sort of broken smile that made him frown. "Will you promise me that you will look after Qetsiyah?" she said, after a moment, "I don't have much time. She can be very impulsive…and I worry about what she will do when I am…" She was cut off as she coughed.

"Shhhh," Silas said. "Do not talk like that. You will be here to take care of her yourself. Let us speak of something else."

She nodded weakly, too tired to press the subject. "I have always loved the feel of rain," she said, "When we were children Qetsiyah and I would run around outside in the rain. We would count how many drops we could catch on our tongue."

"Would you like to feel it now?" Silas asked, "The rain?"

"Perhaps," Bonfilia whispered, "But I am much too tired to run." She frowned as Silas stood to his feet and held out his hand. "Even with your assistance I cannot run, Silas," she said.

"Then I will carry you," Silas smiled.

She took his hand reluctantly and he helped her to her feet. He carefully lifted her into his arms and carried her out into the rain. He watched as she titled her head back and closed her eyes. He wanted to kiss her then, almost did.

"Eísai ómorfi," Silas could not help but whisper.

"I am very tired," Bonfilia said, her eyes shooting open, "I would like to go inside."

"I am sorry," he said, smiling apologetically, "It was too much. I should have known that it would be too much."

She shook her head. "It was nice," she said, "I missed the rain. Sas efcharistó"

"There is not anything that would not do for you," Silas said, his tone serious as he carried her inside.

"Then what I said about Qetsiyah," she murmured, "Think about it. Take care of her please."

:::

Mystic Falls, Virginia 2009

Tessa Bennett watched as her sister left the high school. She had decided that she and Bonnie would have to come up with some kind of agreement. They didn't need to reconcile, though secretly that was what she wanted. But they would have to find a way to work together.

She was ready to call out and tease Bonnie about her burgeoning academic career but her mouth shut as she watched a male figure approach Bonnie, one that if she hadn't known exactly what Silas' fate had been having been responsible for it, she would have mistook for him.

He looked exactly like Silas. The way he walked, the way he smiled, his voice. All of it was exactly the same. It was eerie and Tessa felt her anger rising at the sight.

She frowned as she watched them together, her sister smiling and it pained her to see it. It was as if she were looking into some oblique mirror of the past.

She couldn't say that it surprised her that Silas' doppelganger was drawn to Bonnie, even if she hadn't known before that moment that he even existed. Deciding she needed to get away from the situation Tessa turned her back to them.

Questions plagued her. Why had the spirits seen fit to duplicate Silas' line? Where had the boy come from and why was he here? Had the spirits even created the doppelganger or had it been someone else….? Had Bonnie done it herself? Any hope she had at coming to an understanding with Bonnie had been thrown out the window.

:::

Byzantium, Greece, 365 B.C.

"I don't want the elixir," Bonfilia whispered, "It was never what I wanted."

Silas frowned as he sat in a chair next to Bonfilia's bed as she lay propped up ever so slightly. He and Qetsiyah had already taken the elixir she had made for immortality and he had ridden ahead after it had been tested to tell Bonfilia that they had found a way to save her life. However, she was not happy as he had expected her to be.

"What do you mean?" Silas said, "You could have your health and your power and you would have your sister and me. We would all be together for eternity." He had yet to tell her how he felt but now that he was immortal he felt hope that there would be time. He had never considered that Bonfilia would not want to partake in the spell as well.

"Silas this is wrong," Bonfilia said, "This is against nature. Against what we are. We are meant to live and die. That is the natural way of things. What is the use of eternity on this earth when I could find peace in the afterlife? Even if I took this cure you spoke of later then I would simply have to suffer through this illness again and die anyway. You have accomplished nothing but delaying the inevitable. I have accepted my fate. You and Qetsiyah must as well. You will have each other."

Silas took her hands in his and shook his head. "That is not enough," he said, "You must know how I feel. How can you not know?"

"I know as my friend it will be hard to watch me-"

"You are not merely a friend to me," Silas said cutting her off, "Eísai i psychí mou. Den boró na zíso chorís eséna. If you die then I die. I will take the cure. Get it from Qetsiyah. Use it and I will join you in the hereafter and we will be together."

"What?" Bonfilia blinked, "Silas you cannot mean this? You are upset now but things will clear in time."

"I love you," Silas said, his tone leaving no room to argue, "And you love me. I know it. I see it. I feel it. Deny it and I will do as you wish, I will take care of your sister. But if you cannot deny it then how can you ask me to spend an eternity without you?"

Bonfilia suddenly felt very tired, very worn. "It matters not how I feel," she whispered, "She loves you and this way you will both have someone when I am not here. I am grateful to you….I am….I never wanted…to die….without knowing what it is to…." She trailed, unwilling to say her feelings out loud. She would not die betraying her sister, she had kept her feelings to herself thus far. Her love for him had come softly, gently, quietly, and so it was easy for her to hide it once it was there.

"Say it," Silas begged.

"I cannot," she sighed, "And you should not ask me to do so."

"I do not care about whether I should or I shan't," Silas pressed, "You cannot tell me that you are ready to die, to leave me and then expect me to allow you to leave me without those words."

Bonfilia shook her head and attempted to pull her hands away from him. He gripped her hands tightly and she was embarrassed at her fingers which due to her illness, were beginning to club. "You do not love me as anything but a friend," she said, "The illness is skewing your emotions and you are not seeing things clearly."

"I love you," Silas repeated undeterred, "I am in love with you." She looked away from him, but his eyes continued to bore into her. After a moment he broke down and told her what she wanted to hear. "I understand your wishes," he said, "I will abide by them. I will care for Qetsiyah. I will let you go. But you must tell me the words."

Neither of them noticed as Qetsiyah entered the room.

"S 'agapó," Bonfilia whispered as she turned back to look at Silas. He smiled at her, even as her eyes watered with unshed tears.

There was a moment in which the room was very silent and Silas smiled before he leaned in and kissed her very softly on the lips. She allowed it and began to return it until her sister's voice stopped her.

"So this is what I get in return for my love," Qetsiyah said, as she made herself known, "Betrayal of my trust." She had heard just enough to render them guilty, but not enough to know the whole truth.

Bonfilia opened her mouth to speak in her own defense but only coughing came out. "Qetsiyah please," Silas tried, "Don't do this. If you wish to be angry, don't do it now."

But her anger blinded her from hearing him and Bonfilia could not calm her, not this time. Silas found himself sent flying across the room and before he could move to defend himself he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

Bonfilia fainted from shock a moment later. Qetsiyah considered her options. She could not live without her sister, even now, even knowing what she had been doing behind her back. But she could take care of Silas, she could put the blame on him for separating them. They had been close before him, no one had been able to come between them.

The last of the immortality elixir was in a vial in her hand. She had already taken it herself. The cure was left, but that was not an option, at least not for herself and Bonfilia. She walked over to her sister's prone form and she knew that it wouldn't be long before the sickness took her.

Before she could talk herself out of it she opened her Bonfilia's mouth and forced the elixir down her throat. "I cannot let you go," she whispered as she ran her hands over Bonfilia's throat to assist her swallowing, "Not for him. Not for anyone."

Once she saw signs that it was working she turned to take care of Silas.

:::

Mystic Falls, Virginia 2009

Bonnie frowned as she sat down on the couch next to Sheila after getting through her first day of school. She had spent most of the day avoiding Stefan, which was harder than it seemed as he had sought her out more than once.

"I can't go back there," Bonnie said, looking at her hands, which had begun to shake, "We can find another way to get information about the council. Besides I don't think that these teenagers know anything. I mean they aren't even aware of the supernatural so how would they know the ends and outs of the council."

"No one is expecting them to," Sheila sighed, "But if you befriend them you'll have access to their homes and their trust and soon you'll be able to know what their parents know."

Bonnie frowned. "I understand our aim just fine Sheila," she said, "But…."

"What is it?" Sheila asked, her face betraying her concern. Bonnie was silent as her enhanced hearing allowed her to hear her sister's footsteps coming toward the room. Sheila turned toward Tessa as she joined them. "Do you know what this is about?"

"I am not certain," Tessa said, her tone sarcastic, "But I think it has something to do with the fact that Silas's doppelganger happens to be on the little list of friends for Bonnie to make."

Bonnie rolled her eyes at Tessa. "Did you know about this?" Bonnie asked. She glared at her sister, her eyes accusing.

"Only because I had stopped by the school after a thrilling day of witnessing Carol Lockwood bitching out people left and right," she answered, unbothered by her sister's ire, "She has an admirable talent in that respect I must say, by the way. I decided to give my little sister a ride home from school as you haven't yet compelled yourself a new vehicle, and I happened to notice that you already had a ride with one Stefan Salvatore who is almost as attractive as the original though a little more brooding around the eyebrows. So I discovered when you discovered."

"Wait a minute," Sheila said, defusing the situation, "Doppelgangers don't just pop up out of thin air. There has to be a reason."

Bonnie shrugged. "If there is we wouldn't know it," she said, "The spirits stopped talking to us a long time ago. Besides my issue isn't with him…per se. He's nice…kind, and overall harmless I suppose. But I was listening in on him talking to the Forbes girl about his father and apparently the guy is a hard ass. If he ever found out about Silas things could go south really quick and even if I make any progress with him it could fly out the window."

"Well…all of that is hypothetical for now," Sheila said, "But if you feel like you need to take a step back from him then work on the others. You could try Liz's daughter, Caroline or Carol's boy Tyler."

"It isn't that simple," Bonnie said, shaking her head. Stefan had already shown interest in her and in spite of herself the feeling was becoming mutual. She wanted to know him. She was curious about him. She wanted to know the reason he existed.

Tessa raised an eyebrow at her. "Why because you want to try out the new model? Take it for a test drive?" She grinned, her thoughts bitter as Bonnie blinked at her. "Don't like the car metaphors? How about this…you want to move around a new piece now that the other one's out of play?"

Bonnie chose to ignore her, not in the mood to be baited. "I was shocked to see him but after that wore off it didn't bother me," Bonnie said, turning to Sheila, "Doppelgangers have the same face but they aren't interchangeable. They're not the same person. I know that. Especially as a witch. That isn't the issue here. I was fine with approaching the situation and acting normal but I went to shake his hand and he….I think he felt something."

"Something like what?" Sheila pressed, holding up her hand when Tessa opened her mouth to say another mocking remark.

"My power," Bonnie sighed, "What I am. I don't know if I'm right, but the way he looked at me, it was like he knew something. I'm just afraid if I get any closer to him that he'll find out what I am before-"

"Before you get close enough to him for him to not call his witch hunting father to burn us all at the stake," Tessa finished.

"Exactly," Bonnie supplied. She was glad that her sister was at least listening long enough to understand Bonnie's thought process.

"Well at least you and I won't die," Tessa shrugged, "Sorry, Sheila but you and Lucy are going to have to be collateral damage on this one."

"You're not funny, Tessa," Bonnie hissed.

"You would think you would have grown a sense of humor after two thousand years," Tessa sighed, "Look, Bon, its simple just stay away from him if it's that big of a deal. Meaning, no more rides home and don't accept if he offers to let you ride him. I know he's your type but I'm sure you can manage to resist the temptation this time around."

Bonnie didn't bother defending herself. She was tired of doing so. In all this time she had been punished and Silas had lost his life due to one kiss. One kiss that had been misconstrued as more. She had lost him and her sister over something as simple as a misunderstanding. She could have gotten over it, mourned and moved on if there had been closure but the moment that she had woken up an immortal and had been told that Tessa had forced Silas to take the cure and killed him before destroying what was left of it, she knew that she would never have closure.

"If I outright avoid him I'll look even more suspicious," Bonnie said, "I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. We have to play this carefully. You and I can easily get out of this unscathed but the same isn't true for Lucy and Sheila. And I promised Sheila a long time ago that I wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"You did the right thing Bonnie," Sheila said, before Tessa could answer, "But I can't withdraw you from school because that would look suspicious as well. Just act normal Bonnie and we will play it by ear. We have to be careful about this. This is bigger that the two of you and your past so the bickering ends here. You either let it all out in the open or drop it. If you are not in this with me all the way then leave. I'm not risking my life or Lucy's for that matter."

"I'm in this," Bonnie said, seriously, "You know that. I am not going to speak for Qetsiyah."

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't serious about helping," Tessa said, looking away from Bonnie and toward Sheila.

"And what about the rest?" Sheila asked, "I meant what I said. I can't have you two distracted and I won't take sides."

"We can forget it," Bonnie said, standing, "I've tried it my way. To air things out, but she doesn't want to hear me so I say we drop it. I'm done talking."

Bonnie stood and left the room, both women watching her go. "You know what'll happen once she shuts down on you completely," Sheila said, once Bonnie had gone.

"Yes, I know Sheila," Tessa sighed, "It's my sister. I know her, a lot better than you do."

"No," Sheila said, "You know who she was. That forgiving, sick little girl searching of your approval and that is not her…not anymore. I'm saying this because I care about you both. If she shuts down you will lose your sister. Is a dead man so important that you would take that risk? Think about it."

As Sheila stood and followed in the direction Bonnie had went Tessa frowned. No a dead man wasn't worth that. The problem was that Silas wasn't dead. Not only that, but the more Tessa thought about it the more that she was certain that his magic was the reason that Stefan Salvatore even existed.

Greek Translations

mikrí adelfí : little sister

mikró peristéri mou: my little dove

polyagapiménoi adelfí : dearest sister

mikrí flóga mou: my little flame

Eísai ómorfi : You are beautiful

Sas efcharistó : Thank you.

Eísai i psychí mou : You are my soul.

Den boró na zíso chorís eséna : I cannot live without you.

S 'agapó : I love you.