Chapter Text
Apparently, there's a party.
But then again, that's quite literally the only source of entertainment in their small town.
As a child, she enjoyed every founding family function. Key word: child. She's 15 now and seriously outgrowing the phase of Miranda (yes, she's taken to calling Mom 'Miranda' now) trying to format their outfit similarly.
She can't stand another day at the shops being measured and letting her mom pick her own style for her, thank you very much.
As she's trudging down the stairs, her steps intentionally heavy to indicate her disdain at being forced to attend the event, she meets Miranda's critical eye.
"Dear, you look like you're going to a funeral."
Jenna is stifling a laugh because Elena looked a whole lot more than that; in fact, Miranda was being polite in her description.
Elena rolls her eyes, frankly bored out of her mind. "It's called gothic."
She waves a dismissive hand as the entire Gilbert family files into the car. Grayson and Uncle John's having a conversation by the car. The former takes her in with wide eyes, meanwhile the latter has his palm up in a high five.
"Was this your idea?" Miranda's glaring at John through the rear-view mirror.
The younger Gilbert shrugs in lieu of a response. Elena's ignoring them after her Uncle John relinquished his phone for her to entertain herself. Jenna's vibrating with excitement; it is her first Mystic Falls party after all. The party's barely started and yet Jeremy's out cold in her arms, snoring and drooling away.
"What are we celebrating again?"
"A family just moved in—do you remember that huge mansion in the outskirts of town? Turns out, these guys—" She gestures to the Gilbert men, "aren't the founding members of Mystic Falls after all. The Mikaelsons—that's what they're called—were descendants of a really old family that lived here once, before the town was named Mystic Falls!"
Miranda's blabbering excitedly. Makes sense for her, really, as a historical writer. The car is filled with barely concealed excitement sans Elena who really prefers to be anywhere else than here.
At the party, Uncle John joins her in making fun of the other founding families. Brandishing embarrassing anecdotes about Logan Fell. So far, she hasn't seen a sight of the fabled Mikaelsons; not that she cares. Moments later, there's a dark hair sliding right next to her.
It's Tyler, and he's positively over it. She shakes a glass of cola (spiked, by the way) in his face, to which he downs in one gulp.
"Wow. That bad?"
He shoots her a look that says, 'You have no idea.'
She spots Caroline and Bonnie under the big stairway, and her heart aches with longing. Ever since she started hanging out with Tyler Lockwood, they have become distant. And even more so when she began acting differently.
"New look?"
Elenanods, squaring her chin in a challenge. He just shrugs in a universal gesture of not giving a fuc—fudge. Meanwhile, Tyler looks like a mini-adult with his suit and tie. The only reason she got away with what she's wearing is that she just really didn't care anymore. Her mother's famous excuse is 'teen angst' anyway, which worked wonders for her.
Tyler was the only exception since, well, his father is the Mayor. And such things come with certain roles to fulfill.
She just pats his back sympathetically.
Moments later, there's that awful glass ringing in the air signalling that the party's officially about to start. A tall, thin man is ascending the stairs with a charming smile on his face. While he's speaking in a posh accent, a woman—who Elena's sure is of regal bearing—joins him, her blonde short hair styled in curls framing her face.
Mainly, she's amazed that there's actually a woman out there capable of outshining Tyler's mother who thinks she is the epitome of high society.
The crowd disperses after the end of the speech for the ball. There's a reason why she didn't dress as common people did. To avoid being asked to dance. She instructed her Uncle John or Grayson not to bother asking her ahead of time. Outside of her family, the only person she tolerates dancing with is Tyler, and thank the stars, he isn't interested in playing around either.
So she's dance-free.
Or so she thought.
Elena's about to convince Tyler to book it. When:
"My lady." There is that same posh accent behind her, but different in pitch. She doesn't think they're talking about her anyway. Does she look like a lady? No.
"My lady." It starts again.
Elena has no choice. She groans and spins around, seeing a boy her age with dark hair and dark eyes. It's his smell that's putting her off. Like he swam in a bottle of men's perfume, and his hair is too shiny under the lights. A head full of gel. She wonders if it's grown hard enough to want to knock her knuckles against the thick shell.
"What do you want?" She says as rudely as she can muster.
He doesn't seem to mind her rudeness. In fact, it looks like he's even enjoying it. "Would you like to dance with me?"
"Me?"
"Oh, don't give me that look, darling." There is a violent urge to bite him, but then she sees his smile grow wider, as if he sensed her inner thought. "Just one dance? I promise not to bite."
He whisks her to the dance floor after begrudgingly accepting his hand. As they take their place amongst the lined pairs, she can see Miranda's face over the crowd, looking a tad bit smug, leaning into Grayson's ear to whisper something she suspects she won't like.
"It's considered rude not to pay attention to your partner, you know." He points out when she's still looking over her shoulder and making killer eyes at Miranda.
"I haven't seen you here before." She says. If he considers her already rude, then what's the point of holding back?
He laughs, boisterously. Elena looks at him funny. In all her years, she has never seen a guy seem so amused by her. Even after she acted rudely. There is something wrong about this guy.
"Well, maybe that's because I'm new here."
She nods absently, forgetting herself. So a Mikaelson. "Right."
"And that's all?" He seems genuinely disappointed.
"What, you want me to kiss and worship your feet just because your family settled here first?" She snarks.
He tuts at her like she's a child. It's incredibly condescending. Though she supposes that if her assumption about his mother was true, then every member of the family has quite the stick up their asses. She's probably just dirt under his nails at this point. "I'd forgotten you lot and your pride in being the 'Founding Family'."
Elena reins in her temper, minding herself because as much as it was satisfying to give in, she doesn't want to lose to him, and snorts, "Who cares who came first?"
There is a lull in their conversation which he unfortunately fills up again with unnecessary chatter. "I quite like your dress."
She doesn't know what to say to that. Of course, she's had her fair share of praises but never like this. Never from a stranger like him, whose intentions are cloaked behind a thin veil of politeness.
"Thanks?"
When the music ends, they're being approached by a girl their age. She looks like a carbon copy of the lady at the top of the stairs.
The girl gives her a long look, starting from Elena's feet and up to her hair. She's not afraid of mean girls, really, since she used to be one but stopped when it just wasn't great anymore. To make a hobby of making fun and bullying other people for being different.
Elena knows one fact, though, that if this girl is related to the Mikaelsons and is equally posh as the rest of them, then she's in for a very degrading experience of her life.
Speaking of.
"Enjoying your new pet, Kol?"
She analyzes the girl's words. New would imply that this has already happened before. That he is making a habit of inviting girls to dance and playing them. And pet, really? Is that how they view people? As mere animals?
"I should say the same to you, sister." A smirk appears on his lips, winking at the blonde by Rebekah's side. Matt Donovan, whom Elena used to have a crush on before… well… before she outgrew everything that used to be her life.
"Don't be crass." She snipes back.
"You did it first!" Kol points out.
They're butting heads at this point, leaving her and Matt standing on the sidelines awkwardly.
Thankfully, the lady from earlier saves them. Planting a hand on each teen's shoulder.
"Peace, children." She sighs, channeling the endless patience of a mother. "A day of peace is all I asked."
"He started it—"
"She started it—"
"Hush." Her powerful command renders them silent. "Make peace and apologize for causing a scene in front of your friends."
Friends? She doesn't know what to feel about that.
The two Mikaelsons perform their own rendition of an apology. To Kol hugging her—an act she is sure done so he could watch her squirm—and Rebekah kissing her cheek. Kissing is a stretch, though; she just kissed the air over her cheek. But it works, smiling at her children before taking her leave to speak with the adults.
Kol turns to her then, chaos in a bottle. "Did you hear Mother? We are friends now. And friends do exchange names, don't they?"
Once more, Elena catches Miranda's eye. She looks excited, but not in the manner that her friendless daughter finally made new ones. No, she's excited for a totally different reason being that Kol is a guy and he must therefore be interested in her romantically.
The year is going to be more insufferable than she expected.
Kol takes her silence in stride, bending down to kiss her gloved hand. "Kol Mikaelson."
"Elena Gilbert."
He grins, seeing her surrender as victory. "Lovely to meet you, darling. I do hope to get along with you."
She grits her teeth so hard that it hurts. "Likewise."
Elena didn't know then, didn't know yet, how much her life would change after this.
Looking back, this is perhaps where everything started for her.
And what was it that they said in situations like this?
And then history was made.