Their Raven

Chapter 5

Damon sighed, recognizing the all-too-familiar look his brother shot his way. He downed his drink and reluctantly strolled over, hands stuffed in his pockets, feigning nonchalance as his gaze drifted momentarily towards the Mikaelson brothers across the room. Not bothering to pay attention to how they've now drifted over to the couch Kol was lounging on earlier. Damon sighed yet again bracing for Stefan's inevitable interrogation.

"What was that?" Stefan demanded, his voice slicing through the background chatter of the party. Damon rolled his eyes, forcing himself to stay calm. "What was what, Brother dearest?"

"Don't patronize me," Stefan snapped. "What's going on between you and the Mikaelson brothers?" His gaze flicked pointedly toward the three Originals, who were watching them with amused, knowing smiles. Damon caught Kol giving him a slow knowing wink. He returned with a slight tilt of his head and shrugged it off though he couldn't shake the strange thrill it gave him.

"Seriously? You're not going to tell me?" Stefan pressed, his eyes narrowing. "And where did that come from? And why does it have an 'M' on it!" He pointed to the crystal pendant peeking out from under his shirt. Resting against Damon's chest, Its cold weight was a constant reminder of the night's strange events.

Damon let Stefan's words wash over him, hiding his irritation. The Mikaelsons, their danger, Elena's safety–it was a script by now, predictable and tiresome. Stefan's voice felt like a dull hum in his mind, fading into the background as Damon's thoughts drifted back to Elijah's words: protection...a place among us, besides us. Their offer, however subtle, still weighed on him, and he wasn't sure whether it was temptation or pure curiosity that kept it lingering.

"You done?" Damon finally asked, his tone dry.

Stefan's frown deepened. "You were practically flirting with them, Damon. And that necklace what's that about?" Damon's mouth curved into a grin. "Oh, this old thing?" he said, flicking the pendant. "Just a thoughtful gift from some leprechauns. Their deer friends chipped in, too." He threw on his most innocent smile.

Stefan stared, unamused, clearly in no mood for Damon's games.

"Look, I'm only telling you so you don't go traumatizing any deer in your spare time, you know because you've gone off squirrels now" Damon added with a smirk, savouring Stefan's rising frustration.

"Damon!" Stefan's patience snapped as he grabbed Damon's arm, dragging him toward the door.

Damon let out a dramatic sigh. "Careful, little brother! You're breaking my arm!" He complained loudly enough to draw a few curious glances and whispers from nearby guests.

Ignoring the attention, Stefan continued hauling him outside. Just as Stefan was about to unleash his lecture, both of them noticed a commotion unfolding on the front lawn. Elena and Rebekah stood facing off, their voices rising. The Mikaelson brothers appeared nearby, watching the unfolding drama.

"What's going on here?" Elijah asked as he approached, his voice calm yet commanding. "The doppelganger dared to accuse you of compelling Damon," Rebekah snapped, her eyes flicking disdainfully to Elena.

Damon's eyebrows shot up at the accusation, catching Stefan's worried look. He knew how this must look to Elena, but her accusation grated on him. He didn't her presumption, as if he couldn't make his own choices. Still, he wasn't surprised–the Mikaelsons unsettled her, basically ruined her life, her words though or maybe it was the allure of ancient power, or the way they seemed so untouchable. Damon himself felt that strange pull, something he hadn't expected and didn't fully understand.

"Of course, he's compelled!" Elena's eyes darkened. "He wouldn't willingly talk to them after everything Klaus put me through."

Rebekah stepped forward, her expression hostile, "You self-centred bitch!" but Kol held her back, looking entirely too amused. Damon let out a sigh, shrugging off his brother's tense gaze. "I can talk to whoever I want, Elena," he said coolly, a hint of steel in his voice.

Elena's jaw dropped at his indifference, and Damon noticed the Mikaelsons watching him with a faintly pleased expression. He wondered if they enjoyed seeing him challenge his own. He couldn't deny a small part of him enjoyed it too-a chance to break away from the role everyone seemed so eager to cast him in. "This is what we're arguing about? Me? I'm flattered," Damon added, putting a hand over his heart in mock sincerity.

Elena rolled her eyes, turning to Stefan. "Aren't you worried about him?" Why aren't you doing something?" Stefan sighed, looking torn. "Elena–"

Damon chuckled under his breath. "For the past twelve hours, that's all he's been doing," he muttered, unable to resist the jab. Elijah cleared his throat, his tone formal and decisive. "Rebekah, back inside. Elena, I think it's best you left. We don't want to cause a scene for our guests."

Elena's face tightened, frustration flashing in her eyes. "Fine. Stefan, are you coming?"

Stefan hesitated, glancing between his brother and Elena.

She glared at Damon one last time. "Fine. I'll see you both in the morning." Damon sighed, pulling out his phone. "Go home, Elena. I'll call Ric to pick you up."

"Don't bother." She stormed toward her car, casting a final glare over her shoulder. "I'll see you both in the morning, early!"

As her car pulled away, Damon found himself exhaling, some of the tension lifting. He hated how everyone assumed they knew his motives–that his choices somehow had to align with theirs. And here he was, drawn to the Mikaelsons' interest, even though he'd never admit it outright. Part of him wanted to find out just what they saw in him, and why he felt this pull toward them, however dangerous it might be.

"Well, I'm spent," Damon said, stretching and casting a glance at Stefan. "Time for some beauty sleep, especially if I'm getting woken by Elena at the crack of dawn." He threw a playful look at the Mikaelson brothers, who watched him with faint amusement.

Stefan reluctantly nodded, though his gaze lingered on the Originals, the tension between him and the Mikaelsons as thick as ever. As they walked to the car, Damon slid into the driver's seat, shooting his brother a sidelong look. "You know, you should stop worrying so much. You'll get wrinkles," he said, forcing a light to mask his unease at the tension brewing.

Stefan rolled his eyes, but his expression was serious as they drove away from the mansion, leaving its enigmatic occupants behind. Damon stole one last glance at the Mikaeslons' mansion in the rearview mirror, a strange mix of curiosity and apprehension knotting in his chest.

He couldn't deny it anymore–whatever game the brothers were playing, he was already part of it. And he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to fight it.

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