Stealth. It had always been an essential part of who he was, and he prided himself in no one noticing him unless he wanted them to. Klaus was the single exception, as his younger brother was the only other person he knew to be as focused and observant as he was himself. With a light smile, he remembered the times when they had first discovered how to run or walk in such a way that not even other vampires' keen hearing was able to discern their steps. It had taken them both a while to perfect the movements, but after so many centuries of practice, they actually were perfect. Light, silent, smooth.
Elijah had made his way into the attic of Marcel's house via an obliging tree, the roof and a skylight that had turned out to be insultingly easy to open. He had shaken his head at the very obvious confidence the younger vampire was displaying by not having anyone standing guard on either the roof or the upper balconies, let alone the surrounding buildings.
He settled in a shadowy corner of the large, crammed space that had apparently not seen any living presence for years, judging by the thick layer of dust on boxes, ancient furniture and everything else that was piled up. Elijah had been careful to cover up what few footprints he had left in the dust, and he was now hovering unmovingly right next to the trap door that led down into the house. The party had already begun, and both Silv and Damon would be arriving soon. Before they had left, Elijah had instructed them not to send him any texts once they had found the vault. Despite the noisy celebrations, he knew he would be able to distinguish their voices and to locate them wherever they were within the mansion. So they had agreed that the one who found the hidden vault would just utter one sentence, namely 'Whatever happened to the good old soirée?' It had to be more than one word so as to give Elijah the time to determine the exact location of the voice, and it needed to be inconspicuous enough for anyone who happened to overhear not to believe it to be anything but a muttered complaint about the boisterousness of the party.
With a subdued sigh, Elijah thought back to the times his brother had first introduced him to Marcel, a few months after he had saved the young man's life and turned him into a vampire. To this day, Elijah could not fathom how Klaus' usually unfailingly accurate perception of human nature had so completely left him for once. It had not been often that Elijah had disliked someone at first sight the way he had instantly loathed Marcel. The lad had had an arrogance and a cockiness about him he had found abhorrent, but that had not been the main reason for his aversion. It had been the utter lack of compassion, the deeply anchored indifference and coldness in his gaze. Over the years, Elijah had encountered a few people with that kind of hidden emptiness in their eyes, and they had all had some traits in common – a tendency towards aimless cruelty, a duplicitous mind, no sense of loyalty whatsoever and a blatant disregard for anyone but themselves. He had implored his brother to see reason, but after a few failed attempts, he had understood that Klaus had needed to find out on his own. He was not ready to give up on his 'project', and for reasons passing understanding, Marcel's company seemed to alleviate the younger Mikaelson's loneliness for short periods of time. When he finally had to face the bitter truth about Marcel's disposition, the hurt and raging disappointment in his eyes had touched Elijah deeply, particularly in view of the fact that this new betrayal had further hardened Klaus' heart and made him more suspicious than ever, even towards his own siblings, which had greatly pained Elijah. The thought of seeing Marcel pay brought a malicious, satisfied grin onto his face.
Silv sighed and closed her eyes for a second before pushing open the door to Marcel's house. The rambunctious party noises that hit her like a brick wall made her wish to turn on her heel and escape to the serenity of their home and the comfort of Elijah's arms. She knew her husband was somewhere inside the house, although it still eluded her how he always managed to move like a ghost whenever he did not want to be seen. He had explained the workings of stealth to her, just as Klaus had to Caroline, but neither of the women would ever be able to move the way the older Mikaelson brothers did. Not even Kol and Bekah ever truly managed, she thought with a light grin. In order to minimize any risks, they had determined that Elijah would not partake in the actual search for the vault. There was, after all, a theoretical possibility for someone to notice him, and he would therefore only enter the house once the safe was found and be in and out as quickly as possible. With another sigh, Silv focused. There was work to do now, and she had to give a truly convincing performance. Had it not been about something as vital as getting hold of the stakes, she might probably even have enjoyed the show up to a point, as working with Damon was a little bit like concocting a prank with a mischievous cousin. The older Salvatore would arrive in a while so as to give her time for what he had called the warm-up round. And it would seem the protagonist was not going to make her wait tonight.
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Sanctuaries: A Klaroline Fanfiction
Fanfiction💕⚜Sequel to Dungeons💕⚜ 💕⚜Klaus and Caroline have come a very long way ever since the Original Hybrid first wreaked havoc on Mystic Falls. But when old friends become new enemies, when a long-kept secret turns into a threat, when fear clouds the s...
