Chapter: One - In the Lion's Den
Word Count: 1183
Rating: PG 13 - references to violence (this is not fluff and rainbows people)
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson, Bonnie Bennett
Disclaimer: Vampire Diaries belongs to L.J Smith and the people who brought it to TV
Summary: Bonnie wishes she had just answered the phone
Author's Note: Thank you so much for the warm reception of my little tale. Like I said, I really was inspired by 3x18 so you will see that play out over the next few chapters before it goes AU. As well, in order to keep up with the demands of a multichaptered fic, I will be doing a posting schedule: Monday is the day people! Hopefully I will be able to keep up because my life can get hectic. Now, onto the to Klonnie!
A week earlier
Bonnie is awakened by the shrill sound of her phone.
As it continues to ring, she squeezes her eyes shut in a last ditch effort to chase the sleep wherever it decides to run off to but finds herself awake instead. Wonderful. She rolls to her side, her hand blindly reaching out for her phone, desperate to stop the noise. She blinks as she pulls it back enough to read the display.
She is not as desperate anymore.
Bonnie lets it ring out, noting that Elena seems extra determined in the morning. When the phone finally goes quiet, she is wide awake.
This is not how she planned her day to begin.
By the time she has showered, dressed and had something resembling a breakfast an hour is killed. Usually she is much quicker than that but at the moment she finds her movements sluggish, hampered down by lack of sleep and an erratic eating schedule. She is practically dragging her feet as deposits a bowl in the sink.
Her phone comes to life again – a staccato beat that indicates a text.
Oh Elena, she thinks wistfully as she shuffles toward the kitchen table, just let me have one day. One day to wallow in self-pity because I don’t even know if my mother has met the business end of a stake or not. Then I’ll go back to being Bonnie Bennett, concerned friend and witch extraordinaire.
Or at least pretending to be.
She furrows her brows when she sees the source of the message.
She chews her bottom lip into her mouth, sucking for a moment as she considers just what she can do. There are only really two options at play here – she can read it or she can delete it (well, she really has three: she can do Option A followed by Option B).
For the sake of her sanity, she chooses Option B.
She doubts he can formulate a sincere apology in 160 characters any way.
The phone gets buried in bag and she sinks down on the bottom step to reconfigure her day. She had planned to sleep most of it away but the moment Elena’s call had pulled her awake, her head filled with so many thoughts that it became near impossible to do so.
She had never thought of a backup plan.
She sighs, the sound harsh in the empty silence of her home and then runs a hand through her hair. There are too many hours in this day – too many opportunities for too many emotions. She should just pull herself together, hold her chin high and call Elena.
She should, but she can’t.
Because, dammit, she deserves a day.
Even if she doesn’t quite know what to do with it.
Her eyes drift close but she knows she will not sleep curled up at the foot of her staircase. She will, however, let herself get overwhelmed by all the notions in her head – for a moment, just a moment.
She should find Abby.
She should forget about Abby.
She should leave Mystic Falls.
She should make Damon Salvatore pay.
She should take a step back, look at the logic of it all and let it go.
She should kill...
The stream of consciousness is interrupted by a simple knock at the door. Her body jolts as her eyes open and she is reaching for the rail to pull herself up before she can think twice. For a moment, she stands, clutching the scarred wood, her eyes glued to the door.
She can ignore it, just like she can ignore the phone.
No she can’t.
Because there is no denying she is in here. And if Elena doesn’t satisfy her urge to see that Bonnie is still alive and kicking she will do something stupid – like have Matt break down the door.
No, she can’t ignore this.
She will be quick, to the point. I’m fine, Elena Gilbert. Your conscience can be appeased. Now give me my damn day!
She shuffles on her way to reclaiming her moment. However, the words are on the tip of her tongue as she pulls the door open.
They die before they can even be fully born.
For it is not Elena Gilbert on her doorstep. Nor one of her emissaries.
Bonnie knows she has a look of surprise on her face and does her best to rein it in before the damage is done. She does not want Klaus to know just how much he being here throws her off balance. Her fingers dig into the door as she forces herself to remain impassive in the face of his overwhelming presence. “You.”
Too late – damage done.
“I had it in mind,” he begins, his hands clasped in front of him, his tone polite and warm. If it were anyone but him, Bonnie would be impressed by his manners. But it is Klaus and what will come next will shatter that image anyway. “For you to perform a little spell for me.”
Her reaction is immediate, visceral. “Go to hell.”
He clucks his tongue in a disapproving manner. “Oh, love, let’s be rational about this, shall we?”
“Go to hell,” she repeats, spitting each word out with individual malice. She hates the way he smiles at her curse. Only those with no conscious would smile warmly in the face of such open hatred.
“Bonnie, you are an intelligent little thing. You know how this will proceed. I will threaten, you will get your back up, I will make good on my threat, you will feel enough guilt to crumble at my feet,” Klaus draws, finally unclasping his hands. He raises an arm so a hand can rest on the outer frame. He is testing the boundary of course, showing her how close he can get without actually having to cross that physical barrier. “Let’s be smart about it and skip the middle. It will save me time and you heartache.”
It takes everything Bonnie has to stand right where she is, right as she is. She has visions of slamming the door in his face, of attempting to forcibly remove him (to no avail she knows but it is the principle of the matter) – but she restrains herself enough to speak. “Go.to.hell.”
Klaus almost looks disappointed before a grin slowly spreads across his face. “Fine, I much prefer this way to be truthful. I just wanted to save you a little pain. I understand you have been through the ringer as of late.” He almost sounds sympathetic – it only increases her desire to make him bleed. He tilts his head now, leaning forward until he can go no further.
Stay still, Bonnie, she commands herself.
“Did you know at this very moment that your lumberjack of a stepbrother is going about his business as if Abby Bennett-Wilson is going to walk back through the front door? Chopping wood, putting away groceries for two, staring out the window with a look too pathetic to really be described…” Klaus trails off and she thinks he is looking for a flinch, a hitch in her breath, anything to indicate a reaction to his words. Although her mind is already shouting a protest, she leaves him empty handed. “Caroline, sweet Caroline, is currently brushing her hair, one hundred strokes no doubt. She’ll dress herself in sunshine colors before running off to meet the doppelganger. The jock is acting entirely wretched as he eats overcooked oatmeal and contemplates another day all on his own. I am not sure who I will pick first: the extended family you no doubt feel honor bound to protect because of dear mother’s departure, the overtly cheerful friend who has done nothing but stand by your side these past few weeks, or the one who has been dragged into all of this through no fault of his own. All are worthy targets but which one will make you bend the fastest.”
She can’t stop herself now – she trembles at the possibilities.
And he knows he has her.
She should have just answered the damn phone.
Bonnie stands in the wide open space that is the foyer of the Mikaelson mansion. She has her hands clenched together, her bag tucked in under her arm. If she could pull herself into a ball without looking completely ridiculous she would.
It’s a defense mechanism really. Nothing more than the body’s automatic reaction to being placed in harm’s way.
Beside her, Klaus stands proudly. She knows that he has realized this is her first time in his grand space. She wonders, briefly and without any level of amusement at all, if he is considering giving her the tour before they get down to business.
“You should have been here when it was full of champagne and dancing,” Klaus muses and she watches as his eyes fall shut in remembrance.
She bristles where she stands and makes a face. “I burned the invitation.”
Klaus’ eyes open immediately, a slow sort of grin crossing his face. “Of course you did.” His hand falls to her lower back once again (it had started the moment she left the safety of her house), and he ushers her further into the lion’s den. “I rather wish you hadn’t. It was a momentous night.”
“The night your mother tied you all together with the express purpose of destroying you,” Bonnie begins and she feels his fingers tense, dig slightly into her skin through her shirt. She resists the urge to smile, to gloat that she has stung him even just a little. She turns on her heel now, pulling away from his touch so she can face him. His features have tightened. “I know why you’ve brought me here.”
“For which I am grateful,” he retorts immediately. “It saves me from exposition.” He walks ahead now, turns when she does not follow and frowns. “Unless…unless, you want me to spell out what it is I need from you.”
She shakes her head.
He offers his hand. “Then let’s get on with it.”
She does not take it. He has the audacity to look annoyed before letting his hand fall back to his side.
She follows now.
Bonnie thinks that she would like this room – if she were not forced to be here.
Everything she has seen about this house thus far is overdone, a cry for attention, evidence of an ego desperate for approval from God knows who. But this room seems understated, warm, inviting.
Perhaps too intimate, she reflects as Klaus drapes himself over the back of the leather seat she has chosen to make hers. She resents his intrusion but manages to display it with only the slightest twitch. Still, she knows to him that it speaks volumes. She refuses to look at his smug face, instead focusing on the flickering of the flame in front of her. She remembers a time in which she channeled fire. She could do it now; she could pull it from the hearth and give it to him.
But in the end, after he healed, nothing would be solved.
“I nearly have all that you need. My mother’s grimoire. Candles, herbs – I am still working to procure the most necessary of the elements…”
“Why did you bring me here if you don’t have what I really need?” Bonnie spits out before she can stop herself. There is part of her still stuck in her home, longing for her bed, instead of being in the moment as she should. She chides herself for letting that part take control momentarily.
“Because, dear Bonnie,” he hisses, his voice just inches from her ear now. She flinches, digs her fingers into her kneecaps and forces herself to stay still as he continues. “This spell is complex, even for someone as clever as you. You will need to study it. I cannot have you misquoting it now can I?” He pulls back just a little. “I will return with what you need. Until then, make yourself comfortable. If you are hungry, thirsty, you will be provided for. Sweetheart?”
As if on cue, a girl, maybe a year old than herself, appears in the doorway. She is holding a glass of clear liquid, water, which she hurries to bring to Bonnie. Her arm is outstretched and Bonnie soon realizes it will remain so until she takes the offering. She reaches forward and pulls the glass free.
This girl is human.
Bonnie had purposely brushed her fingers over that of the docile servant, expecting the cold shock of a hybrid and getting instead the warm tingle that is uniquely human. Her eyes widen a little before she can stop herself.
Human like her.
“I can see your mind working, love,” Klaus says with a slight chuckle. “Always working, seeking a way around the inevitable. It’s an admirable quality, but a complete waste of your time.” She watches, now, as he walks past her and stands in front of the girl. “Sweetheart?”
“Yes?” There is a hint of desperation in the girl’s reply. Bonnie’s heart sinks a little.
“Be a good little thing and put your hand in the fire,” he says gently, reaching out and touching the girl’s pale cheek for good measure.
“Klaus?” Bonnie begins, throwing the glass down on the nearest available surface. The girl is already moving, her shiny blue eyes fixated on her goal. “Stop it.”
She gets it. She has gotten it from the moment the girl looked at him with adoration. She doesn’t need this display. She stands now, stepping forward. Klaus’ arm shoots out to stop her dead in her tracks. “Klaus, there’s no need…”
“Complete and utter obedience,” Klaus says as if she hasn’t even registered a protest. Like her, his eyes are locked on the girl. “To me. No one else.”
“I get it!” Bonnie cries, for the first time, and the full force of her emotion is evident in her voice. She is mere moments away from watching some poor girl who has been compelled within an inch of her life prove a point in the name of her. It will be on her head – the girl’s pain. She can’t bring herself to hold back and just let it happen. “Klaus, stop her.”
He glances down at her.
There is a triumph evident on his face but thankfully she isn’t subjected to it for too long. He turns his head away just as the girl leans over. “Sweetheart?”
The girl still has her hand extended toward the flame as she looks back toward the thing that controls her – Bonnie knows the skin is reddened from its close proximity to the heat. She grinds her teeth together, wanting nothing more to reach forward and jerk the girl back herself.
“Disregard what I just said. It was a silly notion,” he tells her with a warm smile.
“Of course.” She smiles, drops her hand and then steps away from the fire.
When it is just the two of them left in the room, Klaus turns to face her, any traces of the warmth he had given his little minion gone. “That was particularly foolish of you, Bonnie. You should know better than to assume I would have someone in my employ that was not obedient to me.”
Bonnie raises an eyebrow.
Klaus chuckles immediately. “Ah yes. Well, if you truly think about it, love, you are obedient. I have to force your hand but you listen in the end.”
There is no arguing with him.
She retreats to her seat. He heads for the doorway. Before he leaves, he glances over his shoulder and she ensures that she lifts her chin, maintains eyes contact.
He smiles – clearly an act of gloating.
She comes close, only pulling herself back in the last second, to throwing the glass of water at his retreating form.