The Awakening

He could not imagine her as anything other than what she was now: lovely, innocent, perfect. "But-you did not find it frightening at first?" 

"At first, a little. But Gudren showed me what to do. It was she who told me to have this ring made, with a gem that would protect me from sunlight. While I lay in bed, she brought me rich warm possets to drink. Later, she brought small animals her son trapped." 

"Not… people?" 

Her laughter rang out. "Of course not. I can get all I need in a night from a dove. Gudren says that if I wish to be powerful I should take human blood, for the life essence of humans is strongest. And Klaus used to urge me, too; he wanted to exchange blood again. But I tell Gudren I do not want power. And as for Klaus…" She stopped and dropped her eyes, so that heavy lashes lay on her cheek. Her voice was very soft as she continued. "I do not think it is a thing to be done lightly. I will take human blood only when I have found my companion, the one who will be by my side for all eternity." She looked up at him gravely.

Stefan smiled at her, feeling light-headed and bursting with pride. He could scarcely contain the happiness he felt at that moment.

But that was before his brother Damon had returned from the University. Before Damon had come back and seen Katherine’s jewel-blue eyes.

On his bed in the low-roofed room, Stefan moaned. Then the darkness drew him in deeper and new images began to flicker through his mind.

They were scattered glimpses of the past that did not form a connected sequence. He saw them like scenes briefly illuminated by flashes of lightning. His brother’s face, twisted into a mask of inhuman anger. Katherine’s blue eyes sparkling and dancing as she pirouetted in her new white gown. The glimmer of white behind a lemon tree. The feel of a sword in his hand; Giuseppe’s voice shouting from far away. The lemon tree. He must not go behind the lemon tree. He saw Damon’s face again, but this time his brother was laughing wildly. Laughing on and on, a sound like the grate of broken glass. And the lemon tree was closer now…

"Damon-Katherine-no!" 

He was sitting bolt upright on his bed.

He ran shaking hands through his hair and steadied his breath. A terrible dream. It had been a long time since he had been tortured by dreams like that; long, indeed, since he’d dreamed at all. The last few seconds played over and over again in his mind, and he saw again the lemon tree and heard again his brother’s laughter.

It echoed in his mind almost too clearly. Suddenly, without being aware of a conscious decision to move, Stefan found himself at the open window. The night air Was cool on his cheeks as he looked into the silvery dark.

"Damon?" He sent the thought out on a surge of Power, questing. Then he fell into absolute stillness, listening with all his senses.

He could feel nothing, no ripple of response. Nearby, a pair of night birds rose in flight. In the town, many minds were sleeping; in the woods, nocturnal animals went about their secret business.

He sighed and turned back into the room. Perhaps he’d been wrong about the laughter; perhaps he’d even been wrong about the menace in the graveyard. Fell’s Church was still, and peaceful, and he should try to emulate it. He needed sleep.

September 5 (actually early September 6-about 1:00 a.m.) Dear Diary, 

I should go back to bed soon. Just a few minutes ago I woke up thinking someone was shouting, but now the house is quiet. So many strange things have happened tonight that my nerves are shot, I guess.

At least I woke up knowing exactly what I’m going to do about Stefan. The whole thing just sort of sprang into my mind. Plan B, Phase One, begins tomorrow.

Frances’s eyes were blazing, and her cheeks were flushed with color as she approached the three girls at the table.

"Oh, Elena, you’ve got to hear this!" 

Elena smiled at her, polite but not too intimate. Frances ducked her brown head. "I mean… can I join you? I’ve just heard the wildest thing about Stefan Salvatore."

"Have a seat," said Elena graciously. "But," she added, buttering a roll, "we’re not really interested in the news." 

"You-?" Frances stared. She looked at Meredith, then at Bonnie. "You guys are joking, right?" 

"Not at all." Meredith speared a green bean and eyed it thoughtfully. "We have other things on our minds today." 

"Exactly," said Bonnie after a sudden start. "Stefan’s old news, you know. Passe." She bent down and rubbed her ankle.

Frances looked at Elena appealingly. "But I thought you wanted to know all about him." 

"Curiosity," Elena said. "After all, he is a visitor, and I wanted to welcome him to Fell’s Church. But of course I have to be loyal to Jean-Claude." 

"Jean-Claude?" 

"Jean-Claude," said Meredith, raising her eyebrows and sighing.

"Jean-Claude," echoed Bonnie gamely.

Delicately, with thumb and forefinger, Elena drew a photo out of her backpack. "Here he is standing in front of the cottage where we stayed. Right afterward he picked me a flower and said…"Well,"-she smiled mysteriously-"I shouldn’t repeat it." 

Frances was gazing at the photo. It showed a bronzed young man, shirtless, standing in front of a hibiscus bush and smiling shyly. "He’s older, isn’t he?" she said with respect.

"Twenty-one. Of course,"-Elena glanced over Tier shoulder-"my aunt would never approve, so we’re keeping it from her until I graduate. We have to write to each other secretly." 

"How romantic," Frances breathed. "I’ll never tell a soul, I promise. But about Stefan…"