He'll Never Know by Seastar Elena glanced over at the bedside alarm clock... the green filaments burned her dazed eyes with the time... 4:37 am. Drowsily she rolled over closer to Stefan, pausing momentarily to stroke the dimpled scar tissue below his right shoulder. She curled up behind him, and parted her lips to caress the puckered flesh with her tongue. In his slumber he let out a soft sigh... an infant's breath from an otherwise ancient creature. For a short moment she pondered the origin of this wound before drifting back into seamless slumber. That night, she dreamed... myriad images clicked through her mind... Faces full of fear and contempt swirled before her... smooth caramel hands pouring some dark liquid into a chalice. A pair of brown eyes the only clear feature in an otherwise smoky tavern. And a finely tooled iron coffer, opened to reveal a carefully folded piece of parchment. Stefan wiped down the counter of the bar with downcast eyes. His mind blanked momentarily as his eyes traced over the hundreds of initials carved into the greasy, stained wood. His chest ached as he remembered the last time he had felt so enraptured with a person that he would want to engrave their initials onto his heart, and surrender to possession. As memories began to call at him he turned abruptly to arrange the bottles on the wall behind him. ::Work,:: he thought, ::Work will help me forget:: "Would you like another glass of wine?" "Ma'am?" Elena startled, and looked at the waitress blankly... the simple gesture of pouring wine from a cloudy bottle had caught her attention, and pulled her back into her dream of the last night. Elena blinked hard and fidgeted with the ring on her third finger, "No, thank you... just...a glass of water please." The waitress nodded and walked briskly towards the back of the restaurant. Meredith reached across the table and placed a carefully manicured hand on Elena's wrist. "Elena," she started. "Elena, are you all right? You seem preoccupied..." The dark girl gazed at her friend who seemed paler than usual. "No... I mean, I don't... I had a strange dream last night." Meredith folded her hands across her middle, and sat back in her chair. "What kind of dream?" she paused, her lips pursed into a knot... "A premonition?" "No, no... nothing like that... at least I don't think so. It was so peculiar... I think I dreamed Stefan's memories... wait, that sounds wrong." She furrowed her brow in concentrated thought. "Hmm? I suppose it's possible that you were thinking about him and just sort of..." she clasped her hands together, "connected one thing to another?" She looked at Elena questioningly. "It's possible, but I don't think that's what happened. Everything was so... vivid." Meredith began to furrow in her purse for her keys. Once she found them, she looked across at Elena. "I really ought to head back to work now." She frowned and continued, "I don't know whether what you saw was 'real,' or whether you simply think it is. All I can say is that your best bet is to tell Stefan about it. Obviously it had a great effect on you, I don't see how it could to tell him." Elena smiled at Meredith. She always provided such honest advice... usually the simplest, granted, but always the option that was terribly logical. "Thanks, Mer," The dark girl smiled back at Elena. "I wish we could keep talking... but with my new job..." she shrugged in a what-am-I-supposed-to-do gesture, "Tell you what, I'll give you a call later and we can catch up some more." "Thanks, yeah... we'll talk later." Elena's eyes followed Meredith as she walked out of the restaurant. The waitress came by and placed a glass of water in front of Elena. "Anything else, Ma'am?" "No, just the bill please." Elena sat on the sofa, disenchanted with the magazine she held on her lap. When she heard the familiar jangle of keys in the door to the apartment, she perked up immediately. For the second night in a row she had a dream about Stefan's past. Though the images were similar to those of the previous night, she managed to grasp a word or two of Italian. Elena's thoughts trailed off... she didn't want to think of Stefan that way... ::desonore,:: she thought, ::disgrace... but why?:: Strong arms closed around her shoulders from behind... Elena stiffened slightly, and tilted her head back to gaze into a tired pair of green eyes. As always, the beauty of his face struck her, and she blushed as she forgot her words. With a fluid motion, Stefan knelt at her side, and moved one of his long-fingered hands to caress the geometry of her face. He lowered his face, and kissed the hollow of her neck, as it was exposed between either lapel of her blouse. Elena held either side of his face in her hands, and he guided one of them into his mouth... he teased her lovingly, sucking at the tips of each finger on her left hand, pausing to nip her thumb with one delicately pointed canine. With her free hand, Elena guided Stefan's chin upwards, and pulled him into a kiss. Still in his work clothes, he climbed on the couch, poised over her, his face ablaze with mounting passion. Elena began to unbutton her blouse from the bottom up, and as her fingers progressed, Stefan's lips followed their trail, pausing to caress the soft indentation of her navel with his tongue. Elena shrugged her blouse off her shoulders with a casual gesture, and she smiled as Stefan unhooked her bra, and began to suck at her nipples, teasing them with his tongue. Elena let out a soft moan as Stefan's lips and tongue massaged her right nipple. She pressed her hips against him, and caressed his strong, muscular back with carefully manicured nails. She felt the pulsing heat of his erection, and she gently guided him back until he lay back against the soft material of the couch. With expert hands she opened his fly, and began to stroke his sex that had been naked against the rough material of his jeans. She kissed the tip and he shuddered as she parted her lips and licked the pre-cum that had gathered beneath her lips. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, and began to stroke its underside with her tongue. Elena enclosed the entirety of his penis in her mouth, her lips caressing the soft, loose skin of his scrotum. She began to work up and down on the organ, delighting in the delicious rhythm of his pumping hips. He arched his back and groaned as he came, and Elena swallowed the viscous, salty fluid as it entered her mouth. He stroked her hair lovingly, and she stretched out, extending her legs as she laid down beside him. The moment stretched out eternally, and the two remained in their own euphoria while the twilight outside seeped into sweet darkness. Later that night, the two sat in the kitchen of the apartment, Stefan focused on the checkbook while Elena nursed a mug of tea. Once again, images from the dream invaded Elena's mind, and without realizing it she whispered a word. Stefan looked up from the pile of receipts in front of him, curious incredulity spreading across his features. "What?" "Desonore," she repeated. Stefan sat back in his chair, and adjusted the delicate gold chain at his neck. Elena saw a mixture of emotions in his eyes that made her bristle, lightly. She sipped her tea and began slowly. "I've had a dream the past two nights, and..." "And?" "I think it was you... I mean, I think I dreamed something that happened to you." Stefan frowned, and let out a long, whistling breath. Elena swallowed and continued. She described the dream in its' entirety to Stefan... the confusing tumult of images that seemed to advance on her whenever she closed her eyes. When she was done, she looked up to see Stefan's brilliant eyes hooded, and clouded with grief. His lower lip quivered slightly as he began to speak. "I ought to have told you... it's just that I blocked that all out so long ago." "Blocked what out, Stefan? What are you..." Stefan motioned with his hands for her to stop. "It was years ago, right after I first became... what I am. I wandered Italy searching for something, or someone to connect me to the world I felt so far away from. Something that I could hold onto and cherish at a time when it seemed like everything had been lost. I haunted towns and cities, frequenting taverns, inns, lush parties where I appeared as only a shadow to the oblivious guests. I was so afraid...so alone, and so afraid of the thing I'd become. It seemed the only brethren of my own that I knew of was my brother, and we'd sworn on so many things that we would hurt each other if we found ourselves in each other's presence again. The last of my family died with my father... Damon and I would have been heirs, but in our death, we were unable to claim anything. After so many years of searching, I found another like myself. He worked at one of the taverns I spent so many lonely nights in. I approached him and found what I had been looking for. We began to talk... he had been sired by a Turkish fellow who had a liking for young men. Though our backgrounds and histories were different from one another, we cherished the idea of having the 'blood bond' between us. Within weeks we planned to leave that village, and set off to find a place where we could be together. One night, only days before we planned to leave, a fight broke out in the tavern. A drunken man accused Marcus of shortchanging him. Marcus was fearful of the man, and I stepped to his side to support him. When I approached, and asked the drunkard to leave, he yelled at us, 'Desonore! Desonore!' and stormed out of the tavern into the cold night. He returned later that evening, slightly sobered though the wine still ran through his veins. As Marcus and I began to make our way down to the cellar, he called me to face him. I was frightened. Though this man was known for his 'habits,' he was respected as a man of great influence in the village. He walked towards the fireplace, and began to stoke it with an iron poker. I was mesmerized and terrified by the flames at once, and was unable to react immediately when he struck me. As you know, there are few ways a vampire can be hurt... wood, and immolation... though this man was unaware of my nature, he caused me greater damage than he presumed he would. I cried out in pain, and shock... this... human, had hurt me... I have that scar to this day. The man replaced the fire poker and stood, arms across his chest, glaring at me so... smugly... 'Go to your mistress, then.' Then he smiled, and I was caught in a rage so profound that I rushed at him. That night, I killed. The people who remained in the tavern at that hour either fled or came at me, trying to kill the 'evil' in that place. I ran too... away from the beauty that I had found. I hid in the woods, my shame and fear gnawing at me. Weeks later I returned to the village, and let myself down to the room in the cellar that Marcus and I had stayed in. The room was devoid of possession... of life... on the bureau the coffer lay open. Inside was a letter... Marcus left soon after the 'incident.' He feared that I had brought terror upon him, and he planned on running back to the Turkish Empire that he called 'home.' He said..." Stefan broke off for the first time in his narration... the corners of his mouth twisted into something reminiscent of a smile...his eyes lightened with remembrance... he pursed his lips, licking them. Though it was a simple gesture, to Elena it seemed exquisitely innocent and yet achingly telling in the same instant. "He said he loved me," The smile traced again across Stefan's lips, and he was unable to hide his wonderment and longing. He let out a small breath... a sigh, and continued. "He said he loved me, and that he was in awe of my 'gallantry,' but at the same time he feared the consequences of being with me... two men couldn't at that time, especially not when they're suspicious in their own rite... it would only have led to more pain had we stayed together." Elena looked up at Stefan. She recognized the barely controlled grief in his voice, and mourned for his sadness briefly, though feelings of doubt and confusion mounted in her mind. "Did you love him?" Stefan looked back at Elena, dazedly. "Did you love him?" Elena repeated, her voice tremulous with emotion. She caught those green eyes in her blue, and when he looked away, tears welled from her eyes, marking the trails of betrayal. "Why didn't you tell me? You could tell me everything else, but you couldn't tell me that. Why, Stefan... Stefan, what is it?" Stefan looked at her, his face broken with guilt... "I loved him." "So why am I dreaming about this now, then? Why did I see those things... hear those words..." Stefan laid his head in his hands and let out a sob... He lifted his face, strands of hair falling in his eyes, and his voice was wrought with a mixture of pain and truth as he spoke. "Because I've been thinking, Elena. And I realize that I loved Marcus more than I love you." Elena shuddered. Stefan reached over to place a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away, and stood up from her seat. She walked with resolve on her shaky legs... ::he will never know:: she thought, ::he will never know what he does to me.:: she closed the bedroom door behind her, and fastened the little brass hook with numbed fingers. It couldn't keep him out-she knew that, but she also knew he would not invade her attempt at privacy. She stumbled across the hard wood floor, tripping on invisible stones in her misery. With a sob she threw herself on the bed, pressing her flushed body into the cool textures of the bed. ::He will never know,:: She thought... ::He will never know how much I love him.:: Fin