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A/N: Anastasia Gilbert – Petra Cubonova.

Chapter 39:

John;

Dad...

I have two apologies to make: one, I'm sorry for stealing your thunder, and two, if my attempt at levity didn't bring a smile onto your face, albeit a reluctant one, then I'm sorry, but you know me, always one to induce humor and break tension and I cannot bear to be the one responsible for your misery. And for that, I will not apologize. I can't. Won't! I will not say sorry for sacrificing my life so you can live yours. You're my father. You would gladly die for your daughters, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that your daughter did the same for you.

They say a father should never have to bury their child and I made you do that. I am playing a major role in your grief but I want you to use it. Channel that grief into making our family safe; take strength from my unwavering love and let it act as a warm blanket, guiding you, giving you strength, helping you wake up every day. I trust Jenna and Jeremy's lives in your hands and yours alone because, at the end of the day, some might see you as the bad guy, the asshole, but you get things done and you kept us safe.

I've never admitted this to anyone but Caroline before but… Grayson and Miranda, while I loved them and I know they loved me, they failed to make me feel special, I always felt that, their love for me wasn't as unconditional as their love for Elena – I never shook off the feeling of being second best to Elena in my supposed-parents' eyes. Knowing what I know now, about the things that go bump in the night and of Elena being a doppelgänger, I now understand. They cherished her, spoiled her, favored her out of all three of their children because they've always known about her fate to be sacrificed for a ridiculous rock. And I know that that information came from you. Yet…you treated me as though I hung the stars and the moon. You once told me that my nickname stemmed from the fact that I brought light into your life, but the truth is, you brought light into my life, Dad. Knowing of my imminent death, I won't feel guilt or a smidge of ungratefulness for admitting this, but I wish you had been the one to raise me, and I can't help but mourn, regret, the time lost that we spent apart, me remaining ignoring of my your true identity.

Don't blame Bonnie. I exploited her guilt. I forced her to bind my life-force to yours. She respected your choice… you expected me to respect yours. Now it's your turn. Accept my choice. I don't regret it, and neither should you. Elena robbed me of my parents; Isobel died in her attempt to locate Klaus and protect Elena in her own twisted way and…she died for it. The thought of another parent, the last one I had left, you, my Dear Uncle John who gifted me with the best present I can ask for – you as my father… the thought of you dying for Elena, of Elena being responsible for the death of the last parent I had…it was pure agony. I already resent her, your death would have me loathe her.

To risk sounding manipulative, I sacrificed my life for yours so that you could live. Please, don't waste that and do another selfless act by binding your life to Elena's again. Remember the argument I made – one day, sooner or later, Elena will become a vampire. It's inevitable and whoever thinks otherwise is kidding themselves. It's bound to happen. My sacrifice, it's my sure-fire way of preventing you from ever sacrificing your life for hers. Because I died for you not Elena. Don't waste it… and please, don't be mad at me. I did this because I love you in ways that words cannot describe. You're my father and I, your daughter, who loves you more than life itself and always looked up to you since diapers!

This goodbye letter was supposed to be short but…who knew saying goodbye would be so damn hard! But I need to end this, so here's my last words to you: I love you, Dad. So, so much! Live for me. Every morning, when you look at the sun, remember me with fondness, don't stay grieving me for long. Pull yourself together and protect my, our, loved ones, because I died doing just that. Don't burn the world for Elena and label everyone else as collateral, Elena has the Salvatores for that. I want you to be the balance Mystic Falls and our family needs. And, as ridiculous as this may sound to you, I trust Klaus to protect you and not just because of our binding contract. Trust in my trust.

I love you. Goodbye;

Your Sunshine.

And he did just as instructed; the morning of Anastasia's funeral, John sat on the porch for hours, staring skyward at the blinding sun. He expected everything to be as grey and foggy as his emotions, the air surrounding him cold and damp. But, the disparities between his mood and nature's were profound; the birds still sang and the flowers still bloomed; the sun shone brilliantly and the virescent color of the spring day under its glare was suspiciously bright and cheerful, engulfing him in warmth, and for a moment, John imagined Anastasia's phantom arms wrapped tight around him, giving him strength.

Unbidden, a smile materialized on his face and tears cascaded down his cheeks as he mourned his daughter – the light of his life.

Caroline;

You didn't just fill in the role of my best friend, Care-Bear, but of my twin. Elena always had her suspicions and for that reason, she alienated you and treated Bonnie better. But you already knew that.

Something I always loved about you, silence, when it came to us, always spoke louder than words. We weren't just constantly mistaken as twin sisters, our personalities were alike and as fate would have it, we were always on the same wavelength, like our souls were linked. You are and always will be, even in death, my soul sister, Caroline. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told John: Think of me and smile; grieve me and move on; and please, for a moment there, ignore how hypocritical I sound to you as you read this, when you remember me, remember our good moments, remember me with fondness, imagine my laughter and laugh along with me. Even in death, I'll be right there by your side, Care. I promise.

It's been a running joke between us since the sandbox: Not even death can keep us separated for long. I'm gonna hound you in the afterlife and keep a vigilant watch on your skinny ass, Caroline Forbes, best friend extraordinaire.

You are beautiful, inside and out. Even as a vampire, you remained pure of heart and I am so, so proud of you. You have a silent strength about you, an optimism that gives hope to even the most hopeless of individuals. You never, not even once, abused your newfound superior strength and superpowers and…as death looms closer, I'm telling you a secret, one I want you to take strength and confidence from: You were meant to be a vampire, Caroline Forbes. I see it with such startling clarity. Becoming a vampire matured you and allowed you to see the world in a different light. I'm telling you this because I won't be there to hold your hand and speak on your behalf and defend you when you confront your mother. Yes, she knows about you, but…if she calls you a monster, or claims you no longer are her daughter, that her daughter is dead, I want you to remember my words and ignore her. Because you are amazing, Caroline Forbes and I've never, not once, lied to you. So trust me!

I need two favors from you, Care-Bear. I'd like you to take care of John for me. I'm trusting you with my father, because I know you, like myself, have always loved him and been fond of him, never looking at him like the townspeople, Elena, Bonnie and even Matt, did, or your own mother. You've always been able to look right through his asshole façade. So, please, for me, take care of my Dad, don't let him mourn me forever. Help him heal and move on. Also, I want you to finish our Bucket List without me; every time you cross a number out, imagine me there with you, enjoying every step, okay?

I love you;

Your Soul Sister.

Letters that comprised of Anastasia's goodbyes were distributed and Jeremy, Jenna, Mason, Lexi, Lee and Stefan struggled to hold back their grief as her parting words reverberated in the recess of their minds, tears flowing steadily down their immobile faces, their insides bruised and numbed, feeling utterly empty as they silently walked behind the mahogany coffin, unwilling to acknowledge the finality of Anastasia Gilbert's death, a girl they all believed, despite her modelesque stature, to be an indomitable force of nature, one to be reckoned with.

And with that realization, denial melted away to be replaced with an unbearable acknowledgement, that they would never look upon her face again or feel her embrace, see the warmth and the fire in her eyes, be surrounded by her love and feel their worthiness at being placed under her fierce protection…

Bonnie;

Once upon a time, I considered you to be one of my best friends. Out of respect to our childhood and to your grandmother who I greatly respected and deeply admired, I couldn't allow our parting to be on a bad note…

The truth is, Ezra's death isn't your fault. Not completely. My grief and fury and guilt was so profound, I unfairly channeled all my emotions into blame and it was easier to direct it all toward you. The truth is…Katherine never had possession of the real moonstone, Bonnie. All this time, that accursed rock kept bouncing from one person to another and none of you – except Jonas and Luka Martin, who in turn, informed Elijah – realized it was a fake. Right from the very beginning, Mason handed over the moonstone, trusting it in my possession, and I had a friend of mine, a witch, make a convincing copy imbued with a convincing replica of its magic.

I'm not sorry for my deception because in the end, the plan I had in motion turned out to be a success. But it came at a cost, Ezra. He died because of my secret and my inability to share. I keep thinking of the what if's… what if I told you the truth, Ezra would be alive, but… then at what cost? You decided to put your faith in Damon and his determination to protect Elena at all costs. I wasn't. I don't trust Damon, not with anyone's life and certainly not my loved ones.

I leave you this letter in hopes that you will release your guilt. Ezra's death is on me, not you. You earned my forgiveness the moment you respected my decision and bound my life-force to John's, sparing me the loss of yet another parent. So, thank you, Bon-Bon.

Take my word for it, and I hope you listen to me. I know Elena is your best friend, but you need to knock out that damn lack of self-preservation you have going on and stop being so self-sacrificing. Your Grams once told me that Bennett Witches descend from a woman, a revered witch, of great power, that you have a powerful and bloody history and that, to all witches out there, Bennett is a line of royalty. Don't tarnish the Bennett reputation, Bonnie. Stop being so judgmental and rid yourself of that ridiculous belief that vampires are nothing but abominations. Humans and witches are no better…

Whether you take my words, my advice, into consideration is completely up to you.

Goodbye Bon-Bon and Thank You.

The fact that other witches looked upon her family as royalty was news to Bonnie and she couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed of herself. All this time, she resolutely denied her roots and fought hard to maintain a veneer of normalcy – "I don't want to be a witch. Do you want to be a witch?" – disrespecting her ancestors in the process and… the only reason she made a small albeit, grudging attempt to begin honing the magic coursing through her veins was only once Elena's life was discovered to be in danger. That Anastasia knew more about her family, magic and its intricacies, and the laws, was a bitter pill to swallow – the vivacious blonde who smiled as radiantly as the sun and who now lay ensconced in a coffin, her body cold and forever frozen, she took the time to learn all that she could, taking lessons from her Grams when it should have been Bonnie who approached her all along instead of calling her a drunken loon.

Her Grams who died because of Damon's infatuation with Katherine Pierce and the threat he posed to the town if they didn't abide and open the Tomb. And look at her…Bonnie joined forces with the one responsible for her Grams' death to protect her best friend when she should have opposed him alongside Anastasia in an effort to keep everyone alive.

Bonnie Bennett truly felt like the Black Sheep of the Bennett Family…

Elena;

This is going to be short and to the point, so forgive me if I don't take your feelings into account.

I didn't die for you.

I sacrificed my life for John, our father. I couldn't just stand there and watch him sacrifice his life for your ungrateful behind because, at the end of the day, I know that one day you will become a vampire. Stringing the Salvatore brothers along, it's inevitable.

You're probably wondering why I'm so cold towards you? Well, it's probably because your selfishness killed our parents. Your existence had Isobel murdered. But mostly, I was hit with a sudden epiphany when Elijah enlightened me to the fact that you hadn't listed me as one of your loved ones to protect.

Elena Gilbert, my twin sister, she died on May 23rd, 2009, the night the car drove off Wickery Bridge with our adoptive parents. That summer, I wasn't just mourning Grayson and Miranda, but you. It's like, the Elena I knew, my selfless and compassionate twin died and some stranger took control of her body, wearing her face and living in her room.

Somewhere along the way, I realized you aren't my sister. The Elena I loved to death was gone and you some imposter in her place…

That letter, those cutting words hurt Elena more than Anastasia's death did.

Anastasia's funeral was all black clothes and paling faces, every one of them sporting puffed red eyes, and John Gilbert watched as the casket lowered into the grave through tearstained eyes, signaling the finality of the luciferous blonde's life.

Once lowered completely, the pain hit John, doubling him over, his body racked with sobs as he cried for Anastasia, desperately calling out her name as though he hoped she would hear him and emerge out of nowhere with a warm smile and twinkling eyes. And, as Lee and Caroline approached to offer the grieving father comfort, Jenna and Jeremy were comforted by Mason and Matt while Elena buried her face in the crook of Stefan's neck with Damon silently observing in the background, torn, his emotions warring against each other, a tearful Lexi separated herself from the horde of mourners, determinedly closing the distance between herself and an immaculately dressed figure who stood under a large tree, shrouded by its shadows, to hand over a letter.

Elijah;

Despite having known you for two months, I've gotten really good at reading you. I'm going to be blunt here… for some confounding reason, I'm hit by this feeling that you wanted me to die and that, my death, is a comfort to you. You knew that once my father's plan came to light, I would have done everything within my power to save him and you knew, with a thousand years of knowledge, that to save my father's soul, I had to feed him my life-force to recharge his life.

I also know that you could have given me the elixir meant for the doppelgänger, but you didn't. And I didn't ask you to. Perhaps my resurrection would have made my sacrifice defunct…perhaps the intent of me dying permanently is what caused the spell to succeed and resurrect my father, I don't know. What I do know however, what my instincts are telling me, is that you spared me from suffering through a fate worse than death.

And it all comes down to Klaus. You and him are keeping something from me. Like you said, I'm smarter than I look… I've always been underestimated and yet you finally saw through me, recognizing my brilliant mind and affinity to strategy and manipulation. It's funny how when you're on your deathbed, everything starts to make sense.

Klaus and I are linked somehow. The mere thought of Klaus dying was the worst form of torture for me… and that terrifies me. But what frightened me the most, was not knowing why. Neither you nor Klaus were willing to share, and so, left to my own devices, I deduced a shaky conjecture… and that is Klaus and I are linked. You took comfort in my imminent death because I wouldn't survive the pain and torment and utter agony of living in a world where Klaus no longer existed. Am I right?

But Elijah, you miscalculated; you didn't take a matter of importance into account. You were blind to a glaring fact I easily saw with startling clarity: you may believe Klaus to be a monster, but he isn't. You believe he tossed your siblings' daggered bodies at sea, but he didn't. You were confident that you'd be able to kill Klaus and end his reign once and for all, but you won't.

There's a saying I've always been fond of, which I think applies to your brother: "Even the Devil was once an Angel."

You have such a low opinion of Klaus, of your brother. I never did. Nobody's truly evil, Elijah.

Because of Damon, the Elixir is useless. Which brings us to the inevitable – my death. Take care, Elijah, I may not know why or how, but now you have your brother to look out for, because I know it, I feel it, my death shall be agonizing for him. But he's a powerful immortal, unlike me, I'm certain he'll survive.

This is my Goodbye Elijah. Rest assured, I don't blame you for your inability to kill Klaus, the opposite actually, I'm grateful to you for sparing him, even if I don't know why – which, as you know, is infuriating me. Hopefully in death, I shall be privy to the why's that has been haunting me since the day I met you.

Your Loyal Friend, Anastasia Gilbert.

Tucking the heartfelt letter in his breast pocket, hazel-brown orbs chanced one last glance at the heart-wrenching scene that lay before him before departing Mystic Falls Cemetery. Anastasia's deduction was accurate, not that he had any doubts; Klaus did feel her soul depart into the afterlife. Not that he knew the reason.

It was so sudden. One minute Klaus, in wolf form, had been running exuberantly, reveling in the feeling of wholeness and of his success after a thousand years, and the next, his brother abruptly halted and emitted a keening howl that had his hair stand on end, letting Elijah know that Anastasia Gilbert was dead. Klaus on the other hand, didn't. Oh, he felt the excruciating agony, a torment like no other, a pain so unbearable he began to claw his maw in confusion and distress, but Klaus was ignorant to the reason why and knowing his brother and his incessant denials, he chalked it up to being an aftereffect of his successful transformation and breaking of the curse.

Elijah closed his eyes and inwardly begged for forgiveness, for he had cursed his younger brother to a life of eternal torment.

Standing in the kitchen, her back flush against the island, Jenna exhaled a weary breath at the disturbance and allowed her hazel orbs to glare at the ceiling as though it had personally offended her. She just buried her vibrant niece, Jenna didn't have the time or energy for Elena's nonsensical complaints. A family meeting was required, of that, Jenna was absolutely certain, lifting her hand to rub circles on her temple in an attempt to drown out Elena's indignant whinging, to no avail.

Needing comfort food, Jenna grabbed the latch of the freezer and pulled it open with more force than necessary. Her eyes locked on a tub of Anastasia's favorite ice cream that she had been saving for once the ritual reached fruition as a celebratory snack, and tears began to form, burning her eyes and prompting her to slam the freezer shut, her appetite gone.

All Jenna wanted to do was barricade herself in her bedroom, curl into her bed, bury herself under the mattress and bawl her heart out, ignoring the outside world and succumbing to her all-encompassing grief. Elena's persistent complaints apparently succeeded in trying Jeremy's patience, his irritated retorts resonating across the living room and making it harder for Jenna to drown out, which brought her to a glaring realization: Anastasia was the glue that held their fractured family together; Anastasia had her way of controlling Elena and keeping her in line, especially when something that pertained to the supernatural came knocking on their door; she had a knack for coaxing Jeremy out of his shell and could read him like the back of her hand, knowing when to give him space and when to invade it; the blonde ensured she was kept in the loop and made John more tolerable, allowing an amicable relationship to formulate between them, a feat Jenna believed to be impossible after their brief dalliance during university.

Anastasia was their rock and now – not even a day after her death; not even an hour after they buried her – their dwindling family was already beginning to fall apart at the seams

That was when the sudden epiphany slammed into Jenna like a freight train, instantly snapping her out of her grief and halting the flow of tears. Almost like in a trance, Jenna's hand reached into her pocket to clench around Anastasia's letter that she chose to carry around everywhere since receiving it, the blonde's words of inspiration revolving in the recess of her mind, allowing her to draw strength from it. It was now Jenna's responsibility to keep their family together; now that she knew of the various supernatural creatures roaming throughout the picturesque town of Mystic Falls, it was Jenna's turn to lay down the law and keep her family afloat. After Grayson and Miranda's death, despite Anastasia's descent to alcoholism and partying, she provided them with sufficient strength; then, surprisingly, it was John who joined the blonde in her crusade to enlighten Jenna in all things that go bump at night and ensure she was kept well-informed. But now, with John was drowning in grief at the loss of his daughter, it was up to Jenna to give him strength.

The renewed sense of purpose was a balm and, squaring her shoulders, Jenna stormed out of the kitchen and into the living room to assess what all the commotion was about. "What is going on here?!" she demanded in a no-nonsense tone, her eyes flickering between the occupants of the room. Elena and Jeremy stood toe-to-toe, their faces flushed red and contorted in anger; the former had curled her fingers into fists, both of them pressed against her sides while the latter had an animated fist in the air as though emphasizing his point. Hazel orbs flicked towards the front door that had been left ajar and comprehension dawned on her at the sight of the two vampires standing before the threshold, the invisible barrier keeping them from entering. "Stefan, Damon," she coldly acknowledged them with a curt dip of her head, folding her arms across her chest. "You have no business here, especially you, Damon! It's best you leave. Now!" When they stubbornly remained rooted in place, she snarled, "I won't repeat myself! Leave now before things get ugly."

It was like talking to a wall. Instead of leaving, the vampire brothers turned to Elena as though she were in charge. Before Jenna could vocalize her rage, Elena snapped, "Why can't they enter? Ana's dead! An invitation is no longer required!" Like a petulant child, she stomped her foot and glared at her aunt.

Elena's callous words and her complete nonchalance towards her twin sister's death, her sacrifice, consumed Jenna with such intoxicating rage she felt fire lacing her veins and creeping up her spine, and the next thing she knew, her hand cracked across the brunette's face, snapping it back with the force of her blow, the loud clap of skin on skin echoing in the room. Staggering backwards, Elena let out a startled gasp of pain, clutching her face, her eyes wide and watering. In fact, everyone was staring at Jenna as though they were looking at her for the first time, shocked by the usually laidback and carefree woman's quite violent reaction, though Jeremy appeared slightly appeased as he shifted to stand closer to his aunt.

"How dare you!" Jenna spat out, glaring at Elena in profound disappointment. Furious hazel orbs not detaching from Elena's form, she addressed the brothers, her tone acerbic, "This is a family matter. Leave! My previous rules still stand. The deed to the house is now under my name and you are not permitted entry." Sensing they couldn't win the argument, especially not in Jenna's current stand-offish state, the Salvatores reluctantly flashed away, abandoning the tensed atmosphere. Exhaling roughly, Jenna finally took notice of John's unusual absence, "Where's John?"

Clearing his throat, Jeremy pointedly glared at his sister. "He, uh, he walked off halfway through Elena's bitching. He's, er, he holed himself up in A-Ana's room," he managed to choke out, a sob lodged in his throat at his deceased sister's name.

Despite Anastasia stating her forgiveness in the letter she left for him, Jeremy couldn't forgive himself for his deplorable treatment of her; Anastasia dying had been a harsh wake-up call, forcing him to see his behavior in a different perspective. While he was falling in love with Bonnie, he realized that ever since he started dating her, he turned a blind-eye towards his surroundings, unable to focus on anything but protecting Elena from Klaus and Elijah, despite the latter having been a friend to Anastasia and even his aunt and vampire-hating uncle. Jeremy was ashamed of himself and what hurt most, was the startling truth of it being too late to make amends, to beg his favorite sister for forgiveness; he spent her last days arguing with her and treating her like she was the enemy when all along, she was the only person with the ability to see the bigger picture, the only one with an ironclad plan to keep them all safe.

Blinking away her tears, Jenna nodded stiffly and softly called for John. The mourning father joined them looking worse for wear; bright sapphire eyes that were achingly identical to Anastasia's were bloodshot, dark circles under them, his face ashen and spattered with pink spots, and his sandy blonde hair was in disarray. But despite his appearance, he pinned Jeremy and Elena with a stern gaze, and Jeremy came to the realization that his aunt and uncle – the most unlikely allies – had come to an agreement and that whatever they had to say had been planned ahead, most probably before Anastasia's funeral.

Not bothering to beat around the bush, Jenna locked eyes with Elena's still wounded ones and bluntly stated, "I've transferred Elena's guardianship to John-" She abruptly raised a hand, halting Elena's predictable interruption, the brunette's lips having instantly parted in indignation. "This is not up to discussion, Elena! It's already been done. I've come to face the fact that you don't respect me, Elena. Not as your aunt, not as your guardian, not even as a confidante. You blatantly disregarded me, undermined my rules, took advantage of my leniency, kept crucial information a secret from me. All this time, you've defended your actions by claiming you've been trying to protect me, when it was my job to protect you, and because of my failure, Anastasia's dead-"

"It's not your fault, Jenna!" Jeremy interjected, unable to keep his silence on that particular matter and allow his aunt to shoulder the blame for something that had been completely out of her control. Jenna's response was to spare her nephew a grateful smile, though her expression remained grim, "Isn't it? If I had been doing my job as your guardian properly, I would have never allowed you and your sister to interact with the Salvatore brothers, especially Damon. He immersed himself into our lives, into our home, earned your trust despite his appalling behavior and murderous tendencies. He became attached to you, Elena, and you allowed it to happen. Instead of taking Ana's word, my word for it, to trust in Elijah and in the Elixir he procured, our family would be whole, Anastasia would be here! So yes, Jeremy, in a way, I'm partly to blame,"

Adamantly shaking his head, Jeremy said, "You didn't know about vampires, Jenna. Mom knew and she didn't tell you because you weren't a Gilbert. It's not your fault."

"If it weren't for Stefan and Damon, we wouldn't have even known about Klaus and the sacrifice and I would have been easy prey!" Elena snidely spat out, her crossed arms tightening against her chest.

Suddenly, John huffed out a mirthless chuckle, sapphire orbs hollow as they bore into his daughter. "That's where you're wrong, Elena. I've known for fifteen years. Fifteen years. Why do you think I wasn't around much in your youth? Isobel's always been good at finding things and the moment she knew you were a doppelgänger, she confided in me. I spent years searching for a way to keep you safe and when Katherine came into the picture and told us the truth of the Sun and Moon Curse, I began looking into a way to kill Klaus. Fifteen years, I came up with nothing so I decided to change course. I focused all my attention on researching ways of you surviving the ritual. I spoke with witches, hoodoo priestesses, psychics, hell, I even asked a shaman! None of them dared to oppose Klaus, and those that did, preferred to see you dead since you were the key to breaking his curse. I thought I had failed until recently, thanks to Anastasia and Elijah," he emitted a scoff, dragging a hand down his weary face, his head shaking in misery. "Fifteen years wasted, all because of Damon Salvatore."

Elena and Jeremy stared at John in stumped silence as they contemplated the unexpected revelation and Jeremy felt the feeling of self-hatred rear its ugly head. He couldn't believe he trusted Damon to protect his sister, Damon who was a hotheaded and selfish vampire who preferred to take matters into his own hands, who obviously didn't respect Elena's choices if she dared to disagree with him. Stefan on the other hand, did; he respected Elena, allowed her to make her own decisions regarding her own fate, chose to place his trust in Elijah and the Elixir, and to some extent, Anastasia and the full-proof plan she concocted, a plan that cost her Ezra.

Recovering from her shock, Elena snarkily prefaced, "About the guardianship?"

"I have a house," John stated after emitting a long-drawn-out sigh. "The plan was to have you and your-" clearing his throat, he blinked back his tears and gruffly continued, "-was to have you and Ana move in with me. However, with the recent- recent tragedy, Jenna and I agreed it's best we don't separate you and Jeremy. So for now, we're all going to live under the same roof and things are going to be much different around here and I promise you Elena, I won't tolerate any acts of disobedience from you. If you even think about pulling the stunts you did with Jenna you'll be grounded!"

Huffing, Elena sneered, "You can't do that!"

"Try me, Elena," he retorted, not backing down. "You can hate me all you want, I don't care. That's part of being a parent. As long as you're safe, I'm okay with it. I already lost one daughter. I'm not about to lose another. You're still underage, and while you're living under our roof, you abide by our rules. Do not test me because I promise, you will lose."

The moment she blinked the darkness from her sight, an amazing discord of colors dazzled her, a beautiful array of colors from greens, yellow, purples, reds, pinks, orange and others assaulted her vision. The aromatic smell of pine and jasmine drifted in the air, lingering gently around her and birds twittered cheerfully from their various positions in the profusion of tall trees, flitting from branch to branch in tempo with their sweet melody. Slowly, she rearranged herself into a standing position, barely sparing attention to the fact that her feet were bare and a chiffon dress of the purest white caressed her form, cascading to the point right above her ankles and flowing down to her wrists, too busy soaking in the view before her, basking in the greenness of her surroundings and the strong rays of the day that brought her true warmth.

She stretched her arms up, fingers spread toward the gentle spring sun and white-puffed clouds and slowly began to dance, a dazzling smile on her gorgeous face at the truly magical land. "So this is what Heaven looks like!" giggles interspersed her breathless statement. She then tilted her face upward and lazily closed her eyes, savoring the moment of tranquility. Unfortunately, the moment wasn't meant to last and she was abruptly snapped from her trance by a disturbance from behind, grass rustling under light footsteps.

Pirouetting on the balls of her feet, astute orbs widened on a figure approaching from afar, the edges slightly blurry and, without thinking, she hopefully called out, "Ezra?" The blurs slowly vanished to shape a familiar figure that she would recognize anywhere…her. "Oh my God!" she breathed out, a hand cupping her mouth at the sight of her doppelgänger, her mind turning blank as she drank in her identical sapphire orbs, golden hair, olive complexion, dimples, everything! "Now I know how Elena feels," she blurted out, wildly shaking her head and taking a step back.

The doppelgänger smiled, "Well met, Anastasia Gilbert, Daughter of John, Granddaughter of Aviva. This exact moment in time was prognosticated many millennia ago and I have been most eager to make your acquaintance, Descendant of Mine."

Spluttering, Anastasia eloquently blurted out, "Say what now!?"

"You are a perspicacious individual, Anastasia. I'm quite certain if you concentrate, it will come to you."

The words barely left the doppelgänger's lips when a gasp escaped Anastasia's, eyes wide with recognition and her complexion turning a shade pale. "You're, you're the one!" she exclaimed, finger pointed at her pleased lookalike. "When Sheila helped me commune with the spirits, it was you. You're the one that reached out to me, told me that I wasn't ready to know. I'm your, your descendant? So I am a doppelgänger, like Elena."

"Yes. And no," she cryptically responded, an amused smile on her face at the annoyance on Anastasia's. "Do not fret, young one, you are finally ready."

Frowning, Anastasia inquired, "Why? 'Cause I'm dead? What good is the knowledge I've been most desperate for when I can't exactly utilize it?"

A tinkling laughter resonated around her and Anastasia withheld a shiver at the eeriness of its likeness to her laugh. "You are in possession of many traits my Father, His Majesty, admires," she mused. "My siblings claim the reason to be because I am my Father's favorite, but that is not so." At Anastasia's confused look, she smiled, "My name, young one, is Ástriðr, and I am the seventh Princess of this realm, Utopia, and her Mage; and during my short spell on Earth, I was known as Ástriðr Holm."

Unable to hold it in, Anastasia rolled her eyes and emitted a skeptical snort, "Right. Look, I don't mean to be rude or uh, disrespectful, your Highness, but that sounds like an excerpt right out of a fairytale."

Not offended in the slightest, Ástriðr hummed, "It does, doesn't it? Nevertheless, I speak naught but the truth." Gesturing with her hand, she addressed her, her tone soft yet authoritative, "Walk with me." Obeying her, Anastasia silently listened to Ástriðr as she divulged in the tale of her banishment and consequent landing in Earth, powerless, homeless and lost. It sounded like a surreal mix of fact and fantasy; and while pinching herself into consciousness didn't work, Anastasia was forced to accept that Ástriðr spoke of the truth. Acceptance made it all the more believable.

"So you died at the frail human age of sixty-nine and what, you regained your youth and immortality?" Anastasia really did try to veil the cynicism from seeping into her tone. Ástriðr threw her head back and laughed gaily, "Soulmates is a complex concept to comprehend, young one. It is a sacred occurrence here in Utopia."

Anastasia's eyebrows arched in disbelief, "Soulmates? Now I know you're pulling my leg."

But Ástriðr paid her no heed as she extended her hand out and allowed a blackbird to perch on her palm in a very Cinderella-esque behavior. "Tis rare for a Utopian to be born without a soulmate and for a long, long time, my soul was considered to be whole. You see, all my siblings found theirs a few millennia after their birth." And okay, the fact that Ástriðr could casually speak about a person living for thousands – plural! – of years as though it were perfectly normal had her rendered speechless. She was already getting used to the fact that the Originals lived for a thousand year, just one thousand. Amusement colored Ástriðr's features at her descendant's comical expression of shock, "Then, as I previously mentioned, my Father banished me, stripped me of my immortality and my powers and cursed me to roam the Earth during the Black Death as a powerless mortal. Imagine my surprise upon discovering I did in fact have a soulmate, a mortal by the name of John Holm."

"John…" Anastasia trailed off in wonder, the puzzle pieces slowly connecting. Sapphire orbs, the carbon copy of hers, twinkled in her direction, "Your ancestor." Shaking her head, Anastasia felt pity on Ástriðr's behalf and belatedly, she realized that she was starting to believe this nonsense regarding soulmates, "But that doesn't seem fair! You're an inherently immortal being. Won't you…uh, I mean didn't you get separated from John once he passed away?"

Ástriðr beamed at her descendant, at her doppelgänger, "Not even death can keep two halves of a soul apart, young one. If a Utopian were to find a soulmate in a mortal, which I assure you, tis extremely unheard of, then they would begin to age and, in death, retain their youth and immortality. It's a very convoluted process, one that you need not know about, at least, not yet." Knowing orbs pierced Anastasia, a mysterious smile etching onto her face. "I see my John every day," she confided before Anastasia had a chance to interject. "One of my brothers, Vermundr, is the creator of The Bright World, or, what you Earthlings call Heaven, therefore I have free passage into the afterlife to visit with my beloved."

Devoid of any intelligible words, Anastasia simply gaped at her lookalike with palpable shock and, upon finding her voice, had the urge to satisfy her curiosity, "Does that mean Hell is real?"

"Oh, why yes. Of course. Although, here it is known as The Dark World, created by Viðarr, Vermundr's twin." Ástriðr then rolled her eyes, looking indignant, and huffed, sounding every bit a petulant teenager, "Your uncles believe themselves superior due to the province they hold jurisdiction over. Cocky imbeciles."

"Uncles?" Anastasia spluttered.

An eyebrow raised, Ástriðr stared down at her descendant, "Well, if you want to be meticulous, your great-great, approximately sixty-eight times over, great-uncles." At her dumbfounded expression, Ástriðr shrugged in a very humanlike behavior and one unseemly for a Princess to act, "You are not only my beloved John's descendant, but mine. My blood, the blood of Utopia and of Royalty, courses through your veins, therefore, my parents and siblings are of relation to you. I do not know why you're having a tough time processing all this, young one. You must have known there was something special about you."

Swallowing back a snide retort and quashing her irritation – of course she was having a hard time processing all this! She died and woke up to find herself a doppelgänger of a Princess in a fairytale land called Utopia! – she said, "I've spent the past year searching tirelessly as to the reason why I am the twin of a Petrova doppelgänger when Katherine never had one. Also, why after sixteen years did I now possess these powers? My Dad, he tried looking into it, but he hit a dead end at his mother. Apparently my grandmother Aviva died in her sleep and that's it. A complete dead end."

It was amazing how quickly somebody's mood could change. The Princess no longer radiated a carefree and mischievous appearance, her expression turning solemn and twinkling blue eyes glacier; her gorgeous visage contorted into unadulterated hatred, the clear blue sky overhead darkening and literally emitting a foreboding rumble. "Those accursed Petrova doppelgängers, their existence is naught but blights on the Universe," she hissed maliciously. "Elena Gilbert-" the name of her twin pronounced with much vitriol, "-is who the Royal Family identifies as the mortal not fated to be of blood relation." Taken aback, all Anastasia could do was stare with unblinking eyes at Ástriðr until she collected her bearings and calmed down. "There is many a matter we need to discuss, young one, and in the process, the answers to which you seek shall all be revealed. And it all begins with your biological parents…"

The identical blondes treaded lightly on the virescent canopy, a couple of squirrels dashing up a nearby trunk upon their approach illuminated by the spring sunlight, while the drone of insects humming in the background interspersed with the lulls of birdsong. Despite the foreboding, ominous knowledge Ástriðr was about to impart, Anastasia couldn't help but feel at peace as she strolled alongside her ancestor through the scenic forest, her surroundings immensely dulcifying.

"You must understand, young one," Ástriðr conversationally prefaced, her tone soft but with a certain edge. "There is a reason why none of the Petrova doppelgängers before Elena Gilbert had a sororal twin; you were never supposed to have any sort of familial relation to the Petrova bloodline. That is why you had been constantly looked upon as an anomaly. It has been written by my sister Urðr, the Earthlings know of her by the generic title of Fate, that John Gilbert, my descendant, shall give birth to my doppelgänger, a powerful girl who shall be the epitome of myself on Earth, and Isobel Flemming, a descendant of the first and only Immortal Woman, shall give birth to a Petrova doppelgänger. However, despite Urðr's rescript, despite my sister's countless interventions, John and Isobel, against all odds, meshed and had you and Elena, two divergent and conflicting doppelgängers Fated to be on opposing sides." Sensing her descendant's distress and utter confusion, Ástriðr spared her a comforting smile and placed a hand on her shoulder, "You are most probably wondering why you and Elena were never meant to share a blood relation…and my answer is this, it would be exceedingly difficult for you, young one, to eliminate the Petrova doppelgänger as Urðr decreed. Unfortunately, coincidence, a rare occurrence unheard of, struck John and Isobel."

Head shaking rapidly, Anastasia took two steps back, eyes wide on Ástriðr, "You're… when you say eliminate, you mean, you mean kill, don't you?" She may have started to loathe Elena and mourned the loss of her twin alongside her adoptive parents, but in no certain terms did Anastasia's hatred escalate to murdering her own flesh and blood. Ástriðr must be mistaken.

"There is a reason why you and Elena physically bear no resemblance, young one," the expression on Ástriðr's face and the nuance of her tone was as though she believed Anastasia was some fragile porcelain doll that could shatter at any second. "There is a reason why you possess power over the elements and Elena remains a defenseless human. She inherited nothing from me, neither was she blessed by my Father the King." Predicting Anastasia's interjection, the Princess elucidated, "King Alrekra weighs my descendants' worth before deciding on whether or not he should grant them divine powers. Your father John was blessed with the uncanny skills of a warrior that helps him survive, outsmart and conquer the bevy of supernatural entities he encountered. And where do you think your telepathic ability came from? Certainly not from me. I am the Elemental Mage, embodying the powers of nature and you, young one, inherited my indomitable power and control."

Fascinated by the revelation, Anastasia succumbed to silence, drowning in her turbulent thoughts. For a year now, Anastasia desperately yearned to know who, or what, she was and finally, in death, she was presented with the knowledge. An Elemental…it made perfect sense!

"That still doesn't explain why Elena should be…killed," Anastasia hesitantly pointed out, attempting to detach herself from the situation by focusing more on her insatiable thirst for knowledge, for facts, instead of her emotions.

"The blight of Petrova doppelgängers aside, Elena Gilbert is toxic, a leech," Ástriðr hissed, apoplectic with rage. "Many times did Urðr orchestrate her death, every single time in which an outsider intervened. The first time, when Elena was an infant, Urðr had The Destroyer sent to Mystic Falls in order to cross paths with her, knowing despite her age, he would instantly recognize her as a Petrova doppelgänger. Alas, Abigail Bennett intervened upon Miranda's request. And yes, from what you've made out, Stefan also intervened, saving Elena instead of Grayson and Miranda that night when the car drove off Wickery Bridge. Naturally, my brother Fenrisúlfr was furious with my sister and threw an impressive tantrum that shook the palace walls; the Supernatural is his dominion and he has been impatiently waiting for Niklaus to break his curse and introduce the world to the new, more superior race of hybrids," inadvertently going off-topic, Ástriðr fondly rolled her eyes as she recalled Fenrisúlfr and Urðr's recurring altercations in regards to assassinating Elena Gilbert. She brushed a hand through the air, "Anyways, think of Elena's survival as the butterfly effect; Elena alive does more harm than good. Her mere existence leeches the life of those around her. But you, my dear descendant, are the balance."

Hands splayed, Anastasia lifted them and pressed them to her temples, eyes wide as she fractionally shook her head, all the while attempting to make sense of the unexpected revelation. She was only just getting used to the fact she's a doppelgänger, descended from Royalty and in a fairytale-ish land for crying out loud!

"So, if I'm to understand this correctly, what you're saying is I'm preserving the balance while Elena's survival and continued existence is compared to a leech sucking the life out of everyone? You realize how ridiculous that sounds, right? I mean, yeah, the Salvatore brothers worship Saint Elena on a freaking altar, but that's just them! The love-struck idiots. They can't be taken into account-" Anastasia's hysterical rant came to an abrupt halt when the blondes emerged from the forest and a spectacular sight appeared in her field of vision, rendering her speechless.

There, right before her very eyes, stood a majestic and opulent Palace, high upon a hill, and juxtaposing its ethereal beauty, marble stones of ivory glistening in the spring sun and gold domed towers, it also had an ancient air to it, more ancient than any bone left in the soil. Knowing the realm she was in, the Palace was clearly beyond human creation. A spiraling staircase of spun gold and ivory marble led them uphill to the Palace's fortified entrance where a multitude of sentinels silently walked, their eyes watchful.

Similar to Peter Pan's Shadow, a gobsmacked Anastasia remained at Ástriðr's side, following her up the twisting, spiral staircase and through the massive entrance, needing many more eyes to devour the Palace's interior; a great hall for feasting could be made out, a long oak table within; rich tapestries of emerald green, molten gold, crimson red, as well as sapphire blue hung on the walls, suit of armors littering the halls, coat of arms, swords crossed on the wall and many more. Heck, she wouldn't be surprised if the Palace contained dank steps that led to a dark dungeon.

"Actually that we do not have," a rich baritone permeated the air, and Anastasia, taken off-guard by its suddenness, spun around, a hand clutched to her chest as her heart thundered violently against it. Sapphire and emerald intensely gazed at her, the couple radiating an intimidatingly powerful aura; the man was handsome with salt-and-pepper wavy hair, a hard jaw and prominent cheekbones, so sharp, they could cut through glass, he had a dimpled chin and a neatly-trimmed black beard, peppered with silver, but most importantly, his eyes were identical to hers. The woman on the other hand, was the epitome of gorgeous, rich auburn hair with streaks of gold styled in a French braid , her loose curls cascading down her back and stopping at the lumbar curve; she had almond-shaped eyes framed by thick lashes, a straight-sloped nose and a dimple indented in each cheek, her face oval-shaped with soft features and cupid-bowed lips. Husband and wife were both frozen in their early fifties, having aged gracefully and sublimely.

Recovering from her initial reaction, Anastasia's eyes narrowed in on the his and hers crowns of molten gold, embedded with a variety of gems, that sat atop their heads and they widened marginally before she hastened to bow in a clumsy curtsy, breathlessly stuttering, "Y-Your Majesties!"

Queen Sigríðr emitted a muffled chuckle that reeked of fondness while Ástriðr rolled her eyes at her father's penchant for the dramatics. Clucking his tongue, King Alrekra curled his large hands around her biceps and straightened her posture. "Now, now. None of that. We are all family here, and family does not bow down to each other, sérstakur. I apologize for frightening you, you were thinking too loud," mirth shone in his eyes, an impish smile decorating his lips. (sérstakur – special one)

Opening and closing her mouth a few times, Anastasia finally blurted out, "My-my thoughts? You're telepathic?"

"Why, of course," Alrekra spoke as though it was extremely obvious and quite dim of her to think otherwise. "Now, as I corrected you before, I had the dungeons refurbished into a game room for my sons." Linking his arm with hers, he disregarded his amused wife and favorite daughter as he began to drag a nonplussed Anastasia along with him, hand animated as he proceeded with his monologue, "Our species, Utopians, are beings of peace, love and harmony, until…until there is a threat, then, we fight as dirty as any predator that were of the opinion they could threaten our Realm and any Planet or Person we defend; such as that pesky norn the Petrova vampíru ordered to have you linked to her-" (norn – witch & vampíru – vampire)

Realization dawned on Anastasia, prompting a smirk to appear on the King's face. "You're the reason? Katherine was pissed off when it turned out she was only linked to Elena!"

The Queen huffed out a scathing sound, "Those nornir dare to try and harm Utopian Royalty. You are under our protection, smá sól, and if any dares to go against you, they shall face our wrath. Lucy Bennett quickly learned you are not one to be trifled with." (nornir – witches & smá sól – little sun)

Anastasia felt her heart swell with affection, but then, she remembered she was dead, and her mood dampened; the fact that her death kept her father alive was the only thing that kept her going instead of falling into depression. She would die a thousand deaths to see her Dad alive and kicking. Alrekra chose to distract her by proceeding to inform her of Utopia and Her people – "As I was saying, we are of a divine species; we are creative, but we like order over chaos; we like rules, but we know when to break them – something Ástriðr loves to abuse," he muttered under his breath. However, Utopia's Mage heard him loud and clear as she cheekily retorted, "Like Father like Daughter."

"Cheeky brat," he huffed fondly.

Ástriðr smirked, "And I'm about to get even cheekier, faðir. I need to take Anastasia to see Urðr. She needs to discern the truth by looking into Urðarbrunnr. Only then can she determine for herself whether or not I speak the truth of Elena Gilbert." (faðir – father)

Alrekra's expression darkened. "Blegh! The leech!" he spat out.

It truly felt surreal; here Anastasia stood, amongst royalty, in an ostentatious palace situated in a superior realm, where its people despised Elena, while, all her life, she lived in a deceptively idyllic town that happened to be a major hotspot for supernatural activity, a town in which ninety percent of its denizens adored the ground her twin walked on. Which is how Anastasia found herself dragged by her doppelgänger to a dimly lit chamber, standing before a younger version of the Queen, Fate Herself, who insisted she call her 'Auntie U' – "after all, we're family, Dearie."

To Anastasia, it looked like an archaic well that reeked of ancient power, an observation that gravely offended Ástriðr and Urðr, as to them, Urðarbrunnr went by the common name of a water spring. The Urðarbrunnr was Urðr's most prized possession that aided in her job of doling out fate by examining what should be, would be, and could be. Anastasia proceeded to get sucked into a rollercoaster of emotions as Auntie U began to show her what life would have been like if Elena died at The Destroyer's hands – Mom and Dad wouldn't have died if The Destroyer took care of Elena and Mystic Falls would have remained untouched by the Supernatural, Stefan instantly fleeing town and Damon dying at Sheila's hands since there was no Elena to convince her otherwise by playing on Bonnie's heartstrings, taking advantage of the best friend card…

But what killed Anastasia most of all, what crippled her, was when Urðarbrunnr allowed her to see Mystic Falls without Anastasia around to preserve the balance – Damon's plan revolving around Lexi would have been a success; Lee's attempt to murder Damon in revenge was hindered by Elena who fed him bullshit about Lexi not wanting him to become a murderer, which had Lee committing suicide not long after, unable to live another day of his eternity without Lexi; Bree and Henry would've been killed by Damon and Alaric respectively, Trevor would have lost a head at Elijah's hands; Mason tortured and killed by Damon; John succeeded to sacrifice his life for Elena's as Damon still force-fed Elena his blood in the alternate future; Jenna, dear, sweet Jenna, having remained oblivious until it was too late…Klaus turning Jenna into a vampire and killing her in the sacrifice to teach Damon a lesson for interfering…

"NO!" Screaming, Anastasia slapped both hands on the well and forcibly pulled herself away, ripping her gaze from the entrancing effects of the water. Body-wracking sobs escaped her lips as her loved ones dead bodies, most of them murdered by or because of Damon fucking Salvatore, all in the name of Elena and protecting all things Elena, flashing before her eyes.

And finally, Anastasia believed… Elena was a leech, one that was responsible for so much death and destruction, her weapon of choice abusing Damon's love for her, prompting him to murder recklessly, all for her protection.

Once she had calmed down, Anastasia cocked her head to the side, her curiosity awakened, "So, from what I've managed to understand, I'm part Utopian, right?" She received a hesitant nod of agreement from Urðr and a cheerful one from Ástriðr. "Does that mean I have a soulmate?"

Before either sister could offer a response, or even think about beating around the bush, a dark-haired beauty with sparkling emerald eyes materialized in the chamber, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed strongly reminiscent to the time Anastasia and Caroline downed six bottles of Red Bull each with an abundance of chocolate when they were fourteen and ended up bouncing off the walls. "Yes! Yes you do!" she squealed, exuberantly clapping her hands together as she danced over to Anastasia's side and ignored the concept of personal space. She cupped both sides of her face and her emerald orbs bore deeply into her sapphires, "He is strong. So strong. And powerful, one worthy of Utopian Royalty! The epitome of gorgeous, ooh, I am jealous, darling niece-"

"Sága!" Ástriðr and Urðr intoned in exasperation, cutting her off from revealing too much. Ástriðr huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at the sibling she rarely got along with due to her busybodying personality and incapability to keep her damn visions to herself, making it an irksome habit to butt into everyone's private lives, especially hers! "Too much information, you interfering busybody!" the Mage sneered, glowering at Sága.

Ignoring the glaring contest between her sisters, Urðr patted Anastasia, giving her a commiserating smile, "Sága is a Seer with a horrible habit of hijacking people's dreams to plant visions and-"

Sága frowned, a pout on her lips that stopped fooling her parents and siblings three millennia ago, "What? I was simply answering her question, what's wrong with that? The last time I interfered, that dashing werewolf survived!"

"You sent me that dream of Katherine and Mason!" Anastasia gasped, the jigsaw puzzle nearing completion as nearly every transpiring incident that took place that year began to make perfect sense. Sága's smug smile answered her question. About to thank the quirky Seer, Anastasia recalled the shocking revelation, "Wait, I do have a soulmate?!" She didn't know whether she should be feeling excitement or dread…after all, she was dead, and besides, while she was open-minded about Utopia and all that jazz, the concept of soulmates existing was still a bit of a stretch in her personal opinion.

The Seer's blinding smile dimmed in the blink of an eye, morphing into a grimace, eyes sad and then blank as she gazed at something far away, something definitely not in the chamber with them, "I can't say much for fear of making matters worse. All I can tell you is that the road for you and the one that possesses the other half of your soul is a rocky one, brimming with many adversaries, all of whom would try their utmost to intervene and sabotage your future. Inevitably ending with..." She sucked in a sharp breath, choking on the last word, her eyes wide and moist. "I cannot say more. I cannot!" she shrieked, and without warning, vanished from their midst.

Ástriðr rolled her eyes, "My sister the drama queen."

"Hark who's talking!" Urðr scoffed, staring at her younger sister in a mixture of disbelief and mild amusement.

"Oh, shut up," Ástriðr deadpanned.

For her part, Anastasia didn't know what to think and her surprised yell fixated the attention back to herself, "What the hell just happened?!"

Shockingly, although Caroline channeled Scarlett daily, Gone with the Wind definitely one of her top ten favorite movies, the blonde bailed on the film screening at Town Square, choosing to spend her afternoon by her best friend's grave, rooting through their picture albums that contained every single fond memory they shared and every daring experience they partook in. She thumbed through the pictures, greedily drinking in Anastasia's mega-watt smile and occasionally swiping at her face from the rivulet of tears that accumulated, giving her a blotchy, red-rimmed and puffy-eyed appearance – not that cared.

Paranoid in her own house after discovering Matt's betrayal, Caroline didn't trust her mother not to barge into her room and stake her in her sleep; or maybe she was overreacting, her paranoia conjuring scenarios not even her mother could ever dream up, not when it came to her daughter – didn't she put her gun away when she first discovered Caroline was a vampire, allowing herself to be compelled? Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes, a woman set in her ways, a woman firm in her belief that vampires were heartless monsters whose only emotion comprised of bloodlust, had been sitting on the revelation for over a week now, and her inaction was slowly driving Caroline insane.

She donned her comfy gray sweatpants – or as Anastasia liked to call it, her: 'I'm depressed over a boy sweatpants'; and yes, Caroline Forbes chose to wear that fashtastrophy in public of her own volition. She was too tired to look her best or even care – and paired it with a white loose, off-shoulder top from Anastasia's duffle bag of clothes, carrying the scent of her best friend with her. Taking a shower and getting dressed took the newbie vampire approximately six minutes – a record! – and grabbing the photo album titled: 'ANA & CARE'S BUCKET LIST!', she jumped into her car and drove off, wanting to keep a large distance between herself and her house that honestly, felt more like a dungeon for the past two days.

Driving past the Town Square, eyes capturing the horde of townspeople, laughing and smiling with not a care in the world, grabbing a spot before the film screening began, had tears prickle at her eyes – Gone with the Wind wasn't just her favorite movie, but Anastasia's. She lost count the amount of times she and Anastasia would park themselves in front of the television or a laptop, armed with a boatload of ice cream and pizza, probably enough to feed an army, and get lost in Scarlett O'Hara's tangled love affairs. And as though she weren't already descending into insanity, Anastasia's melodious voice reverberated in her head, chastising her for screening Lexi's calls and ditching Scarlett – "Care! Don't let your life stop because of me. I know it's too soon, but it's Scarlett! Take a page from her book, you made it through the war, live your life! Revel!"

"Easy for you to say," Caroline scoffed to herself, an undertone of bitterness. "You're dead." And that was how she found herself entering the Cemetery and approaching her best friend's grave with tears in her eyes.

Occasionally, the morbid ambience in Mystic Falls Cemetery was broken by a shaky laugh or a choked sob, the quietude so intense that when the distinctive sound of footsteps cut through the air, the vampire's entire form tensed in an instant and she waited for the intruder to speak or make a move, not having the energy to put up much of a fight.

"Ms. Forbes?"

The familiar cultured, slightly accented voice had the blonde whirl her head around to stare at the handsome vampire from over her shoulder, one she had never been in the same vicinity with by her lonesome. "El-Elijah? What are you doing here?" she had been under the impression that Original was long gone by now along with his murderous brother, now that both their businesses in Mystic Falls had reached fruition.

Mildly uncomfortable, Elijah cleared his throat and made an attempt to smile, though it came off as more of a grimace. "My apologies. I just…" he trailed off; he couldn't exactly admit he grew exasperated of cleaning up after his brother's mess – a fancy word to substitute the plethora of dead bodies Niklaus left in his wake. "I apologize for the intrusion, Ms. Forbes," his eyes flickered from Anastasia's grave to Caroline's tear-stained face, and he turned to leave.

"I don't blame you," Caroline abruptly spoke up, her voice a mere whisper, stopping Elijah from flashing away. He cocked his head, his posture stiff and his gaze inquiring. She shortly elucidated, "About not killing Klaus." When Elijah maintained his silence, Caroline filled it with her trademark ramblings, needing a distraction desperately, "Ana, she…we tell each other everything. She confided in me, told me she never believed for even a second, that you'd be able to kill your own brother. Despite how confident you were, she always stated otherwise." A bubble of fond laughter emanated from her lips, though her cornflower-blues radiated sadness, "Why do you think she put together the plan with the moonstone? At first, Ana didn't trust the Gang to keep the town safe, she thought a powerful artifact like the moonstone would be safer in her possession, which, duh!, she was right. But after discovering the true origins of the Curse, she decided to use it as blackmail material to force Klaus to choose two strangers for the vampire and werewolf sacrifice. But…once she found out you and Klaus are brothers, she changed it. Said a deal with Klaus would be the smartest choice, that way, once the ritual was complete, we'd all be under his protection." Caroline smiled softly at the surprised Original, her genuine compassion along with Anastasia's sheer brilliance and the revelation of her cunning master plan, taking him off-guard, "She knew all along. To quote her exact words, 'I don't trust Damon to not piss off another powerful being. The retaliation always ends up with my loved ones as collateral damage. And who better to have them placed under the protection of, than a powerful Original that cannot be killed?' unquote."

"Anastasia's talent for strategy never ceases to surprise me," Elijah emitted a sigh, his hazel-brown orbs boring into her headstone. He casually brushed specks of invisible lint from his shoulder to mask his sorrow as he addressed the blonde, "Nevertheless, Ms. Forbes, I am to blame for Anastasia's death. I informed her of her father's plan to sacrifice himself for Elena, knowing full well that she would demand the Bennett witch bind her life-force to his."

Caroline's peal of laughter surprised the Original, prompting him to instigate eye-contact. "You should know by now, Elijah, nobody forces Anastasia to do anything. The fact that you were honest with her only made her respect you more, despite the end results. And it's Caroline."

The awkwardness between them vanished, replaced by a more comforting silence and Elijah found himself wanting to stay for a while with the blonde who so resembled Anastasia personality-wise, not particularly looking forward to checking in on his brother and cleaning up any more of his messes. Pulling up his pants, he sat beside the blonde and stared at the opened photo album, eyes intent on one picture in particular of a younger Anastasia and Caroline decked in identical red dresses, their hair in disarray and makeup smudged, smiling and posing behind bars – amusement colored his visage and he bit back a laugh.

Her features lit up with comprehension and she happily explained the unasked question, glad for the company, "When Ana and I were thirteen, we made a bucket list; it's basically a list of things we'd like to do before we die." Her eyebrows knit together as she pondered aloud, "Well, in my case, permanently die. But anyways-" shaking her head, she eagerly went into details and, despite her grief, reliving memories of her and Anastasia was very ameliorative, "-after Ana's fifteenth birthday, John invited her to accompany him to L.A. Since he had business there, he thought it'd be a great birthday present and naturally, since we're inseparable, he let me tag along. On our second night, we snuck out and went to a dive bar. There were these guys, tattoos, piercing, bulging muscles, cannot take no for an answer – that type. They tried hitting on us but well… they mistakenly assumed we were airheaded bimbos, the perfect damsels in distress. Whenever John visited Mystic Falls, he made it a point to teach us self-defense." A devious grin materialized on Caroline's face as she fondly recalled that night, "Ana kicked one of them right in the crown jewels which started a full-scale bar brawl. Ana and I were recognized as the instigators and the cops took us in, arrested us until John bailed us out."

A soft chuckle escaped Elijah and for the first time in nearly a century, since Klaus daggered his siblings and since New Orleans, he was sincerely enjoying himself, all his worries drifting away as he listened to the vivacious blonde's tale, enraptured. "Let me hazard a guess, getting arrested was somewhere on your bucket list…?"

"Of course! It's number four, right at the top!" she chirped, a giggle spilling from her as she shook her head fondly. "You should have seen the look on the officer's face when we asked him to take a picture of us with our confiscated cellphones. But John? He congratulated us, told us he was proud of us for standing up to ourselves. My mother on the other hand, she totally flipped out, grounded me for a month."

The rest of the afternoon was spent engaging each other in light-hearted conversation, Caroline flipping through the album with Elijah, enlightening him in tales of the past and of the best friend's many adventures. Unfortunately, they were forced to part ways when Elijah received a call from Klaus, demanding he know of his whereabouts and when Caroline received a text from Lexi, informing her of Damon's predicament – not that she cared a lick. Bidding Elijah goodbye, the blonde turned her phone off and proceeded to thumb through the album, getting lost in memories of the good old days when everything was simpler and untouched by the supernatural.

A tumbler of scotch in hand, the raven-haired vampire approached the closed curtains, electric-blue orbs contemplative. Clearly coming to a decision, he yanked it open, allowing the bright sunrays to shine upon his face. With a heavy heart, he stepped into the shade, drained his drink and placed the tumbler on a table and, after two seconds of hesitation he returned to the window, expelled a deep breath and took off his ring, dropping it on the floor and allowing himself to burn. Arms opened wide, he closed his eyes, his expression peaceful despite the unpleasantly painful burns that marred him. However, before he could combust into flames and turn to ash, something strong collided against him and his entire form was violently flung into the shade.

Sneering, Anastasia glared at the scene, disapproval coloring her features, "Saint Stefan to the rescue. Why am I not surprised?"

"I sense a lot of anger aimed at the younger Salvatore," stating the obvious, Ástriðr turned to squarely meet her descendant's identical orbs, an eyebrow arched expectantly.

Anastasia huffed and averted her irritatingly knowing gaze, stubbornly keeping her silence even after Stefan whooshed out of the Boarding House, leaving Damon downstairs to hallucinate in solitude in a cellar. Once she had accepted her role in life – or was it death? – and no longer treated the 'Elena is a leech' pitch with a heavy dose of skepticism, Ástriðr introduced her to the rest of her siblings – for some perplexing reason that only Anastasia appeared to be unaware of, Fenrisúlfr enthusiastically greeted her and stared at her in awe as though she were the answer to all his prayers – before permitting her to check in on her loved ones in the mortal plane. Anastasia had been happily observing Caroline and Elijah's interaction when all of a sudden, she found herself transported to the middle of the Salvatore's living room, courtesy of Ástriðr. "Is there a reason why you dragged me here to watch Damon's failed suicide attempt? Not like he can do anything properly."

Eyes rolling at her snide tone, Ástriðr ignored her, choosing to lightly place a hand on Anastasia's shoulder and transport them away. Looking around, Anastasia frowned, "Why are we in the old witch house?" Just as the last word left her lips, Stefan and Bonnie walked in. The crease on her forehead smoothened, her eyes sparkling with insight, "Stefan wants Bonnie to find a cure for Damon."

"Correct." Head twisting a fraction to lock eyes with her descendant, Ástriðr nonchalantly asked, "Since Damon Salvatore played a role, albeit unintentionally, in your death, my sister Diynah agreed to delegate Judgment to you. What say you, young one?"

Taken aback by the offer, Anastasia adamantly avoided looking at Stefan, not wanting her feelings for him and for the friendship they once shared to cloud her judgment. The truth was, she wanted Damon dead; and not just because he selfishly force-fed Elena his blood which set her death into motion. No! Because of the onslaught of visions Urðarbrunnr portrayed to her regarding the death of her loved ones and of innocents at Damon Salvatore's hands, the vampire not displaying even a hint of remorse. Earth would be a better place without him; her family would be safer without him around.

"I want him dead."

Ástriðr's lips stretched into a bloodthirsty grin and she dipped her head in wholehearted agreement, "Then you know what to do."

Recalling Alrekra's – Grandfather! she corrected herself, remembering his relentless insistences – previous lecture, Anastasia knew the Spirits wouldn't dare to cross one of Utopian blood, grudgingly bowing down to them. The moment Emily possessed Bonnie, Anastasia felt out for the Spirits, allowing the potent power coursing through her veins to radiate out of her and she immediately sensed their fright, for while Ástriðr and herself remained unseen by Stefan and Bonnie, the dead witches were another case completely. As Stefan pleaded with Emily for a cure, the hazel-green orbs of her previous friend were focused only on hers, terrified and wary.

"Don't!" that one word from Anastasia had them bowing in submission.

Emily met Stefan's imploring gaze, "I will not give you what you want." She departed her descendant's body, leaving Bonnie to scream out in pain and crumple to the floor, hands pressed to her ears as the Spirits' terror became too much for her to handle. Voice shaky, Bonnie murmured to Stefan, "They don't want us here. They think I'm abusing my power. Not only that, they're terrified. I can feel it. There's something here, a presence, it's oppressing them."

Ástriðr scoffed, her eyes fixated on Bonnie Bennett in disgust. "Judgmental nornir," she venomously spat out. (nornir – witches)

Confused, Stefan filed Bonnie's comment away for the time being to ponder about later and shook his head in frustration, his expression desperate, "They know something. There's an answer. They just don't want to tell me."

Smirking, Anastasia's amusement was great, "Even in death, I still know how to screw with them."

Bonnie shook her head, eyebrows knitting together, "It's not just that. I could sense it, they were forbidden… But, I did manage to hear something before they were silenced. 'K'. Something that begins with a 'K'." Dubious, hazel-green met forest-green, "You think it's Katherine?"

Compressed lips twisted into a grimace as Stefan felt an ominous feeling consume him, "Or Klaus."

Katherine gaped at Stefan in unmitigated surprise; the moment he stepped into view, she started to rant vociferously about Klaus and the fact that she had yet to be released from his compulsion, only for him to brusquely cut in, demanding that she tell him about a cure for a werewolf bite. Taken aback, she frowned at him, confusion the main emotion on her visage, her fit of pique regarding the two-bit tramp draining her of vervain dying in her throat, "Why would you think I have an answer to that? No, the real question is, what makes you think there even is a cure?"

Her genuine confusion and successive intrigue prompted Stefan's stomach to drop, but before he could elucidate, Katherine spontaneously lunged at him and forcefully pushed him against the wall, ensuring he was hidden from the front door's field of vision, eyes laden with fear as she silently motioned for him to remain quiet. Stefan barely had to ponder over Katherine's reasoning as the door swung open, revealing Klaus and Elijah, the former of the two radiating a more potent aura of power and danger than ever before, enveloping the Petrova vampire with a feeling of sinister dread. Her form shaking, with all the energy she could muster, Katherine pulled away from Stefan's warmth and forced a tone of nonchalance as she faced the true predator, "Klaus, you're back. Look who decided to come for a visit."

To Klaus' unalloyed surprise, when Stefan vaguely stated the reason behind his visit to be in aid of his brother, all signs of indifference melted from Elijah's stance and he met Stefan's entreating gaze with a flinty stare, his face dark as gathering storm clouds and the muscles in his jaw working overtime. The Hybrid stared at his noble brother with open curiosity, curious to know what the Salvatore brothers did to open the floodgates of rage in Elijah, the Original who always had an impressive leash on the beast within in comparison to himself and their siblings. Unfortunately, that would remain a mystery as he plunged the white oak ash dagger through an unsuspecting Elijah's heart, restricting him from the power of speech. 'Oh well…'

No sooner did Elijah's body hit the ground did Klaus slam into Stefan's personal space, the stake – that had come out of nowhere! – gripped in his hand disappearing into Stefan's chest, prompting him to let out a pained groan and buckle forward, wide eyes meeting a pair of menacing blue-greens as he frantically attempted to stabilize Klaus' hand from piercing his heart. "Do you feel that? It's scraping against your heart," his voice reeked of morbid elation as he steadied the stake. "The slightest little movement and you're dead."

Frantic, Katherine cried out, a hand extended as though to stop him, "He's just trying to help his brother!"

"Lookie that. The infamous Katherine Pierce does have a heart," a disembodied voice, unseen by all three occupants in the room, crooned to her companion, malicious sapphire orbs intent on the female vampire before settling on the desiccated body on the ground with unadulterated sorrow.

Desperate and vulnerable, Stefan beseeched, "The witches said you have a cure. Make me a deal. Just give me a cure, and I'll do whatever you want."

The commentary in the background continued as the same disembodied voice sang, "Famous last words."

"Oh, please! Do not act like you have no care for Stefan Salvatore. I can sense your distress, young one. Despite your falling apart, you still consider him a dear friend, for he has yet to betray your secret," her companion matter-of-factly remarked.

Calculating eyes held Stefan's gaze for a moment longer before he brutally yanked the stake out, letting the younger vampire fall on the floor. Walking over to the counter, Klaus poured himself a glass of blood and smirked, "Trouble is I don't know if you'd be of any good to me the way you are now. You are just shy of useless." Ignoring Katerina, he leisurely sipped on his drink before he crouched down to Stefan's eye level, "I heard about this one vampire, crazy bloke, always on and off the wagon for decades. When he was off, he was magnificent." His smirk grew wider, reaching his eyes which shone with approval. "1917, he went into Monterrey and wiped out an entire migrant village…A true ripper," he purred, straightening his posture. "Sound familiar."

To drive his message home and show Stefan he didn't really have a choice in the matter if he wanted to save his brother's life, Klaus decided a demonstration was in order. Beckoning Katerina forward – which she obeyed, warily – his hybrid visage emerged and he promptly bit into her arm, gold bloodthirsty eyes reveling in his nemesis' cry of distress and hopeless pleas. Rolling his eyes at her dramatics, he bit his own wrist and shoved it against her lips, forcing her to drink and, to Stefan and Katherine's horrifying surprise, her wound instantly healed, the venom's effects dissipated.

Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, Klaus smirked, his expression screaming arrogance, "You want your cure? There it is."

"Your blood is the cure," Stefan breathed out, forest-greens wide with horror as he came to the realization that, if they succeeded in killing Klaus, Damon would have had absolutely no hope – the irony wasn't lost on him at all.

Mellifluous laughter permeated the room; simultaneously, Anastasia and Klaus uttered, "Gotta love Mother Nature." A frown immediately marred the blonde's forehead, "Great! I share Klaus' morbid sense of humor."

Laughing, Ástriðr shook her head, the action extremely fond with a small dose of exasperation, "On the contrary, young one, Mother Nature isn't responsible. Mother Nature's a judgmental bitch, her Servants, the nornir, taking after her. Fenrisúlfr, as you are already cognizant of, happens to be Niklaus' greatest fan; he blessed him with such a boon, an asset meant to act as a failsafe to all those that wish to oppose him."

"There it is," Klaus unknowingly interrupted the blonde doppelgängers' conversation. Releasing the knife from his grip, it's sharp blade coated in crimson, Klaus deposited a vial of his blood in front of Stefan, the idiom 'dangling the carrot' instantaneously coming to mind. "You want to save your brother? How 'bout a decade-long bender? And I have big plans for you when we leave this town." – 'That doesn't sound ominous at all,' Anastasia sarcastically thought.

Naturally, at first, Stefan adamantly declined. A part of him however, knew that negotiation was nothing but a futile attempt and a waste of precious time; skipping to the last page of the story, in order to save his brother, Stefan wouldn't be able to refuse the life preserver Klaus was offering for long, his life on the balance. And, as Klaus began to pour the cure down the sink, Stefan was left with no choice but to sell his soul to the devil and hope that Lexi, no matter how pissed off she was with him, would one day track him down and get him back on the wagon.

"Wait!" Stefan abruptly called out, a hitch in his voice.

He grinned from ear to ear, looking more like the cat that ate the canary and he clapped his hands together, "Now that's more like it. However, I do have one more stipulation." Stefan maintained his silence, dread slowly coursing through him as he stared at the predator before him, waiting and worrying. "I want Anastasia Gilbert to accompany us."

Forest-green eyes visibly dimmed and the young vampire's face fell.

A vicious scoff emanated from Anastasia's lips, apoplectic with tempestuous rage. "I am no bargaining chip! Thank your lucky stars I'm dead because I'd have no problem watching Damon die a painful death as he slowly succumbs to werewolf venom while I happily munch on popcorn, you fleshy sacks of dickwads!" she hissed, fingers tightly clenched to form a bone-white fist as she manically shook it overhead. And to Anastasia's growing horror, Katherine shared her exact sentiment as she too, released a mirthless scoff. "That wench would rather watch him die a thousand deaths than save his life. She hates Damon Salvatore with a passion," she lazily proclaimed, paying no mind to Stefan as he violently flinched.

Klaus' lips curled into a deceptive smile, his countenance equanimous as he locked eyes with Stefan, awaiting his response. But to his surprise, the anticipated compliance never came. Stefan's eyes fluttered to a close and his visage contorted with a range of emotions, sorrow, grief and despair battling for dominance; finally, he spoke in a whisper, "That won't be possible." The blatant disobedience had the Hybrid's smile turn sinister and he moved to pour the rest of his blood down the drain, only for Stefan to yell, "She's dead! Anastasia's dead!"

A sharp inhalation of breath escaped Katherine, her eyes wide and disbelieving though a flicker of joy danced in her dark orbs. Simultaneously, the vial of blood shattered between Klaus' vice grip, his expression unreadable as he barked, "You're lying! Truly, the lengths you'd go to-"

"It's true!" Stefan cut him off, genuine grief evident on his face. "Her funeral took place yesterday morning. She's gone," he choked out. The worst part about Anastasia's death, was the regret he carried around with him in regards to his ill-treatment of her; he abandoned his friend and treated her like a stranger, like they were enemies on opposite sides of a chessboard. And despite the letter she left him, claiming that she forgave him and that in the end, he never shared the fact that she could read minds which proved himself her friend in his own twisted way, Stefan couldn't, wouldn't! forgive himself.

"How?!" Klaus demanded, eyes flickering between its natural shade and that of his wolf's. Swallowing the lump lodged in his throat, Stefan kept his explanation vague, knowing that Damon and Elena's involvement couldn't be divulged, "She found out her father was dying, so Ana, she-she had Bonnie bind her life-force to his."

The Hybrid nodded in comprehension – everything came with a price when dealing with the Spirits, "A life for a life." He looked like he had been carved out of stone as his gaze bore a hole into the wall, contemplating the revelation. Everything made sense now; why Elijah had been mysteriously absent the morning Stefan claimed her funeral took place, and this afternoon right before he transformed back to his Original-self. Why his wolf was in agony, brutally ripping through any mortal that lay in his path; the sharp, piercing pain in his heart that mystified Klaus and crippled him. The utter guilt Elijah continuously aimed at him when he thought he wasn't looking. Klaus shouldn't be surprised; in the short time he had gotten to know the enigmatic blonde, he knew without a flicker of doubt that she would sacrifice the world for her loved ones, so it didn't come as much of a surprise that Anastasia would freely offer her life for that of her father's. No, what did surprise Klaus, however, was the agony that consumed him and the tears that prickled in his eyes… the fact that her death was affecting him!

"Good riddance," Katherine snarked, a triumphant gleam in her dark orbs that rankled Klaus and had Stefan glower at her with pure hatred.

Furious on her descendant's behalf – the young one's eyes literally spitting fire at the Petrova vampire – Ástriðr allowed a nefarious smirk to pull at her lips as she materialized before Katherine and Katherine alone, the shock and then fear on her face a beautiful sight to behold and a memory she would definitely be sharing with her siblings. "No, no! You're, you're supposed to be dead!" Katherine's voice wobbled dangerously as she backed away from the approaching blonde until her back slammed against the wall.

Lifting an eyebrow, Klaus' mixed feelings regarding Anastasia's death was replaced with amusement, "All this stress, running from me for over five centuries must have lost poor Katerina her marbles." Stefan however, his eyes widened in awe and…hope as he murmured, "Ana?" looking around wildly for any sign of her.

Ástriðr resembled an avenging angel as she shot a hand forward, hissed, "Respect the dead," and conjured vicious flames to shoot out from the ground, engulfing Katherine's entire form and setting her ablaze, her tormented screams piercing Klaus and Stefan's eardrums and resonating ominously throughout the apartment. Once her skin started to melt off, Ástriðr released her, extinguishing the flames by dropping her hand. "Death would be a kindness to you, Katerina Petrova. I'll be watching you," and with a sinister wink, Ástriðr blinked out of sight, becoming invisible once more. For her part, Anastasia felt giddy at the fact that there was a possibility to torment Katherine in death, but before she could get an answer from her ancestor, Ástriðr stiffened perceptibly, her expression one of horror and pity.

Grabbing Anastasia, their surroundings changed once more, finding themselves in the old witch house. Just as Anastasia had been about to angrily confront Ástriðr, her gaze fell onto the dead body lying on the floor, a bullet wound embedded in his chest and she collapsed onto the ground before him, eyes wide and uncomprehending, "Jeremy?! No! NO, JEREMY! NO!" Anastasia was blind to her surroundings, she didn't spare a glance at Bonnie and Alaric, not even Ástriðr, or her brothers, both of whom recently appeared in their midst; sapphire orbs, wet with tears, were focused only on the dead body of her baby brother's and she venomously hissed, "What happened?"

The youngest son of King Alrekra and Queen Sigríðr, Njål, the Patron of Champions, duteously offered a response, an underlying sorrow in his modulated tone, "The mortal Sheriff attempted to dispatch the hallucinating Salvatore, who proceeded to utilize his enhanced speed to escape the wooden bullet. Your brother happened to be standing a few feet behind him, allowing the wooden bullet to find a new target."

Damon. Damon. Fucking. Salvatore! It all came down to everything being HIS fault!

A miasma of rage and grief rose from her weeping form, unable to and unwilling to restrain herself from unleashing her wrath for even a second longer, accumulating into a paroxysm of deadly power and, Anastasia screamed. It was the kind of scream that had blood run cold, a scream that pierced the brain and ignited something primeval; an eldritch scream that gave off waves of melancholia and spoke volumes of heartache, to the extent it echoed through the dilapidated house, prompting the spirits of a hundred witches to recoil in agony, one by one, their soul obliterating as a result of Anastasia's sheer power and screaming in turn out of pain and fear.

She continued to scream, even as Bonnie breathlessly announced "the presence has returned" and when the building's foundation began to shake, debris raining over those in the mortal plane. Anastasia didn't stop, not even when blood started to stream from Bonnie's ears, nose and eyes as she felt the Spirits' fear, anguish and a few of their deaths, Anastasia's power literally suffocating her previous friend.

A gentle hand on her shoulder cut off her screams and tearful sapphires, haunted and hollow, bore into the identical ones that belonged to Heilagr, her Utopian Uncle who had a say in all matters affiliated to Death, its Judge and the sole being in charge of scheduling past, present and future Reaping. "His time has yet to come, víst barn. Njål has seen to it, he has deemed your brother worthy." (víst barn – prophecy child)

Turning to Njål, his disposition unusually solemn as he, the youngest son, resembled Ástriðr and Sága in terms of mischief and playful behavior, Anastasia roughly dragged her hand across her face, wiping her tears, "What do you mean?"

A ghost of a smirk, light and playful, could be seen on Njål's roguish face, "It means, oh great niece of mine, that Jeremy has the heart of a Champion, a Righteous Warrior…and I, as his Patron, have no use of him dead. Jeremy's road does not end here and Heilagr happens to be in agreement with me, so…" He cut himself off and crouched over Jeremy, sapphire orbs closed and forefinger and middle finger pressed against his temple. Next, Heilagr joined his younger brother's side, parted his lips and literally breathed life into him.

A sharp gasp ensued as Jeremy's eyes snapped open and his heart proceeded to beat with restored life and for a brief moment, his soft chocolate orbs marginally widened as they landed on Anastasia, starting right at her instead of through her.

He had to see for himself, needed to know if he had been duped, if he'd been made a fool.

Standing by the outskirts of Mystic Falls Cemetery, the poignant cries of a father mingling – lingering – in the night, the Hybrid could only stare at the gravestone, the enigmatic blonde's name emblazoned on it, revealing Stefan's honesty. Blue-green orbs travelled to the man knelt before her grave, crying out for his lost daughter and for a moment, one filled with irrationality and grief, Klaus yearned to kill him as he was responsible for Anastasia's death. But then, he exhaled and sense returned to him; killing John Gilbert would be a grievous sin… Anastasia sacrificed her life for his, believed his life more worthy than hers, loved him unconditionally and irrevocably enough to trade her life for his without hesitation. No, Klaus couldn't kill him; no harm would ever come to John Gilbert's, not by his hand or anyone else's, otherwise, her death would've been a waste; besides, John was included in her list of loved ones, and even in death, Klaus was still bound to their contract – the cheeky ingenious girl.

She had crouched beside her father and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead – not that he could feel her presence or her touch – when Klaus appeared behind him, a kind of agonizing sorrow coloring his features. Without Stefan and Katherine around, the Hybrid wore his heart on his sleeves and Anastasia was left confused, her head cocked as she squinted at his direction, thinking hard over why he cared so much about her, of why her death made an impact on him.

Scoffing, realization hit her, "He probably wanted to have my powers in his disposal for his plans for world domination."

"Hmm, perhaps," Ástriðr materialized before her, smiling brightly at her. "It is time, young one."

Looking away, Anastasia blinked away the beginning formation of tears. She let out a wet chuckle and said, "Right. So…where'm I staying? Utopia? The Bright World? Dark World for my past sins? Which one is it?"

Head cocked in a disturbing and very inhuman-like manner, Ástriðr's nose twitched, brows crisscrossing in confusion, "While my family and I would love to have you dwell in our abode, I am afraid tis none of the above." In her haste to gauge her ancestor's sincerity, Anastasia turned around so fast, everything began to spin. "Do you know what your name, Anastasia, stands for?" she randomly inquired.

The non sequitur rendered her speechless, prompting her to shrug in reply.

"It means 'Resurrection'," Ástriðr shortly elucidated, her soft gaze brushing against John's devastating expression until they became deep pools of sadness. "Tis no coincidence you were christened Anastasia, young one. An apt name, your death and subsequent resurrection supports the foretelling of a descendant of mine that shall one day become my incarnation in the mortal plane. You died an honorable death, selflessly sacrificing your life for that of your father's, a testament to your fate and I am at ease knowing you shan't abuse your power."

Opening her mouth, Anastasia closed it, shocked, before she opened it again, "Are you saying, you're saying I, I get to live?"

"You do," Ástriðr beamed, affectionately cupping her descendant's face in her palms. "But before you awaken in the mortal plane, I must impart you with knowledge of dire importance. So listen well, young one. You won't simply be resurrected but reborn. Upon your awakening, your powers will not work at random anymore and you shall no longer be considered completely human. I am Utopia's Elemental Mage. On Earth, in a land populated by Earthlings, your title shall be 'Original Mage', the elements bending to your will. You shall have indomitable power over nature more than Mother Nature Herself and because of that, you will gain more enemies amongst her Servants than allies. Also, you must know this…if your soulmate happens to be mortal, then when you die, your powers shall flow into your daughter or granddaughter and so on. However, if your soulmate is immortal, then once you reach his age in human years, you will officially stop aging and become truly immortal. But that's a subject for another day."

Shaking her head in awe, Anastasia blurted out question after question, "So, I won't struggle with my abilities anymore? And what about you guys, will I ever see you again?"

Emitting a cheerful laugh, Ástriðr playfully patted her descendant's cheek, "No, you won't struggle anymore. You were born to be a Mage, young one, the power, the knowledge is inherent. Your death unlocked the full capacity of your abilities. And yes, you will see my family and I; my siblings and parents have grown extremely attached to you, as have I."

Sheepishly, Anastasia smiled, "One last question…You know who my soulmate is?"

Ástriðr's expression turned impish, "Of course I do. Haven't you realized by now that I know everything?"

"And you aren't going to tell me."

"Of course not," she cheekily retorted, eyes twinkling with amusement. "You'll know when you're ready."

Groaning, Anastasia rolled her eyes in a mixture of irritation and exasperation, "Boy am I getting sick and tired of everyone telling me that!" But she was only met with mischievous laughter as Ástriðr vanished from her sight. "Insufferable, know-it-all ancestors," she huffed, her tone fond. Sparing her mourning father a soft glance, Anastasia closed her eyes and willed herself to appear to the one person that had the ability to communicate with her, thanks to Njål and Heilagr.

Materializing in the Gilbert kitchen, her eyes narrowed into slits at the sight of Vicki and Anna. "Begone, bitches!" she sneered, glaring them into submission. Jeremy let out a sharp intake of breath, his expression despondent, yet his tone achingly hopeful, "Ana?"

"In the flesh!" she chirped before frowning. "Well… kinda. Oh, you know what I mean," she waved a dismissive hand in the air, though her bright, mega-watt smile – the one that was purely Anastasia, one that everyone ached to see again – never dropping from her face as she approached her baby brother, her eyes welling with happy tears.

"I-I thought I was going mad. In the, in the old witch house, I saw you, didn't I?" he inquired in desperation. She nodded in affirmative, a tear cascading down her golden complexion. Jeremy then shook his head at the unbelievable situation he had landed himself in. "I, I see dead people!" he breathed out in equal amount of wonder and disbelief.

Anastasia – true to her habit of instilling a note of levity in serious situations – snorted, eyes forming crescent shapes of mirth, "Easy there, Cole Sear." Giggling, she jumped and in one swift move, perched herself on the island, "So, Jer…Seeing the ghosts of girlfriends' past. How long d'you think you're gonna be able to keep that one a secret."

Unfortunately for the blonde, Jeremy couldn't treat the current situation with humor. "Ana, I'm so sorry. You died. You're dead and I never got to apologize or… I was wrong. We all were. I should have put my trust in you, not, not Stefan and Damon," he blubbered, his youthful face streaked with old and new tears. Head shaking rapidly and tears of her own spilling down her face, Anastasia jumped back to her feet and took a few steps closer, "Jer, hey, hey, Jeremy. C'mon, Jer-Bear. You're my baby brother, I love you and I forgive you. Now, wipe your tears and get dressed, I need you to call the troops and get my body exhumed."

"What?"

It took a bit of convincing and once Jeremy realized Anastasia wasn't insane – only after she swore him to secrecy before giving him a Cliffs-Notes version of her nature, Utopia and Ástriðr – he called Lexi, Lee and Caroline, their vampire strength and speed a great advantage, and met them at the Cemetery, where John still mourned. And again, it took much longer to convince them that Jeremy hadn't descended into insanity due to his grief – Anastasia whispering to him a few private tales of the three vampires and John to get them to believe that yes, Jeremy was seeing dead people and no, he wasn't pulling their legs.

Ten minutes later, the coffin was lifted from its grave and subsequently opened, unveiling Anastasia's cold corpse. Slowly, Jeremy's gaze tailing her intently as only he had the ability to see her, Anastasia aligned herself with her corpse in a vertical position and laid back, her soul returning to its rightful place. A few minutes ticked by, and just when John, Jeremy, Caroline, Lexi and Lee were beginning to lose hope, Anastasia's eyes snapped open and she exhaled her first breath of her rebirth.

A/N: OMG! SEASON TWO IS FINALLY OVER AND DONE WITH!

Thirty-two exhausting pages but I did it! XD

(1) This chapter is the most important chapter of all. It's been planned since I first started this story, finally explaining Anastasia's mystifying abilities and her origins. But trust me, there's more secrets and more things that will come to light, but that's for later! ;) (2) I don't know if you noticed, but there's a lot of hints scattered throughout this chapter… I wonder if anybody noticed. (3) Katherine? What happened to her? Unlike Canon, she's been drained of the vervain in her system. Muahaha! (4) To those who thought Anastasia would come back because of the Elixir, honestly Kudos for thinking that, but it's never been the plan. (5) I am so psyched for Season Three; the introduction of the rest of the Originals and more face-time with KLAUS! (6) There aren't any scenes with Caroline and Elijah in Canon, so I really enjoyed writing their interaction down. What did you think? XD (7) With Lexi alive, do you think the Stefan story will occur differently? With John and Jenna around, will Elena be on a tighter leash? With Mason there, do you think he'll be able to control Tyler's future grudge against Klaus? With Anastasia in the story, will the Original Family be an enemy to Mystic Falls? So many possibilities!

Anyway, this chapter took a lot out of me, so I'm really hoping for positive feedback AND as promised, below you'll see an Index to Utopia since some of my readers were confused about them:

Realm: Utopia.

Nationality: Utopians.

King: Alrekra (meaning, all-powerful; ruler of all) & his wife, the Queen: Sigríðr (meaning, beautiful victory).

Daughters: 1st& Eldest Daughter: Atarah (meaning, crown or wreath); 2ndDaughter: Bina (meaning, intelligence; wisdom); 3rdDaughter – Sága (meaning, the seeing one); 4thDaughter: Diynah (meaning, judgment); 5thDaughter: Mæja (meaning; nursing mother); 6thDaughter: Urðr (meaning, fate; that which happened); 7th and Youngest Daughter: Ástriðr (meaning, divine beauty).

Sons: 1st& Eldest Son: Baldr (meaning, Lord; Prince); 2ndSon & twin of 2ndDaughter: Fróðr (meaning, wise); 3rdSon – Heilagr (meaning, holy; dedicated to the gods); 4thSon: Vermundr (meaning, protector of man); 5thSon & twin of 4thSon: Viðarr (meaning, forest warrior); 6thSon: Fenrisúlfr (meaning, wolf of hell); 7thand Youngest Son: Njål (meaning, champion).

Eldest to youngest: (1) Baldr. (2) Atarah. (3,4) Fróðr and his twin Bina. (5) Sága. (6) Diynah. (7) Heilagr. (8,9) Vermundr and his twin Viðarr. (10) Mæja. (11) Fenrisúlfr. (12) Urðr. (13) Njål. (14) Ástriðr.

Power/Jurisdiction: (1) Baldr: Strategy/Warrior. (2) Atarah: Agriculture/Patron of Survivors. (3) Fróðr: Wisdom. (4) Bina: Knowledge. (5) Sága: Seer/Dreams. (6) Diynah: Judgment/Patron of Judges. (7) Heilagr: Death. (8) Vermundr: Creator of Dimension, The Bright World. (9) Viðarr: Creator of Dimension, The Dark World. (10) Mæja: Healing/Medicine/Birth. (11) Fenrisúlfr: The Supernatural. (12) Urðr: Fate. (13) Njål: Trickster/Patron of Champions. (14) Ástriðr: Elemental Mage.

R&R.