(CHAPTER FOUR :
AMANTES SUNT AMENTES)

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NONE OF US SPOKE for a long while after Elijah's comment regarding Kol. The only sounds that were detectable to the vampire ear were the lumbering of feet and pounding heartbeats of the humans preparing the food in the kitchen. To refer to the situation as extremely awkward would have been understating the gravity of the strained environment that had been created. Considering all five of us could talk our way to Hell, it was unusual to find us all scrambling for conversation.

"It's just the allure of the Petrova doppelgänger, still so strong." Klaus courageously shattered the excruciating silence. "What do you say, brother? Should we tell them about Tatia?" He quizzed Elijah, his brother only tutting.

"I do believe we agreed to drop the subject of Elena Gilbert and any topics that coincide with her, ergo her ancestors." I interjected snappily, unable to tolerate the meaningless small talk, infuriating dinner or more flippant discussions about my friend without her knowledge. She didn't deserve to have her life mapped out for her by a power hungry Hybrid and his prideful brother. And I would defend the right for her to make her independent choice for as long as she lived her happy, human life.

Ignoring my fierce attitude, Elijah calmly declined exploring the subject of Tatia Petrova deeper. "Now why should we discuss matters long since resolved?" He queried, dabbing the corners of his mouth with an unused napkin.

"Well, given their shared affection for both Elena and Katerina, I think our guests might be curious to learn about the originator of the Petrova line." Klaus explained, boredom lacing his lazy tone. Due to that, it came to light that he had ulterior motives and he desired to create chaos.

Damon, who sat beside me, perked up at the suggestion. "Well, we're not going anywhere Elijah. Please, do tell." He simpered, sparing a look to his brooding brother.

"When our family first settled here, there was a girl named Tatia." He began to tell the elaborate tale, wonder twirling in his misty eyes. "She was an exquisite beauty. Every boy of age desired to be her suitor, even though she'd had a child by another man." Elijah hesitated, sucking in a stark breath. "And none loved her more than Niklaus." He stated eventually, his impeccable posture twitching temporarily.

"I'd say there was one who loved her at least as much." Klaus argued.

"Wait, the two of you loved the same girl?" I checked, profoundly baffled at the thought of those two opposite brothers loving the same girl. "That could not be more——" As I tended to, I was prepared to ramble about how wrong and unfair that was, until I was interrupted.

"Couldn't be more romantic, right?" Damon elbowed me, gritting his teeth in an humiliating bid to find himself on the 'good' side of the Original—purely for the sake of his murder scheme.

I covered my laughter with a cough, scoffing following the outburst. "I was going to stay cliche." I corrected, drawling out my words for a period of time. "But, if your idea of romance is twisted like theirs probably is then, yes, romantic." I jived, rolling the letter 'r' from my tongue smoothly.

I drummed my finger against the oak table. The Mikaelsons' story was bland, it lacked elements of secrecy and scandal, in my opinion. Currently, it sounded like it was being told from a children's story book. One girl was strived after by the entire village and her heart ended up torn between two suitors for their affections. Personally, I wasn't one to be engrossed in that sort of thing because I believed in saving myself. Rather than being the stereotypical damsel in distress, I wanted to learn to be my own hero. And I had went on quite the journey since my hopeless romantic days as a human. Once upon a time, it was a priority of mine to be loved, but I had this deeply engrained fear of being unloveable after I was abandoned by my last love. Some part of me hoped that my old flame would burst through the doors one day. Another part of me knew that—as a twenty-first century woman—I could make myself happier than he ever did.

"It was love in the simplest form." Elijah defended instinctively. "It wasn't about torture, chains nor compulsion. It was pure. All of it was blissful and innocent until the moment we became slaves to the bloodlust." He reminded the people around him that at the time they were human.

Lowly, Damon had sarcastically murmured about how 'kinky' that was, leading to me sliding my hand under the table and plunging my nails—for they were manicured and sharp—into his thigh. His remark was unnecessary and came at the time I found myself enticed by the tale. I stood corrected, the story was never one of romance or even tragedy, it was one of their humanity. Buried under centuries of bodies and blood, both men were holding onto their anchor to their humanity, Tatia Petrova.

"Ah, but my dear brother, amantes sunt amentes." Klaus countered. He spoke fluently in a language I was unfamiliar with, yet the words triggered a memory all the same.

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PORTLAND, OREGON [1908]

"Kol," I called out to him, my voice high pitched as my gown got caught on the vine I was climbing down. "I think I am stuck." I fretted, tugging gently at my dress as I tried to untangle the material from the long plant that lead down from my balcony. "If I fall, would you promise to catch me?" I asked, a playful giggle bubbling an escape from my lips. This was all so thrilling.

"Oh, I don't know." He teased, pretending to ponder on it. "I mean, you never did catch me when I fell for you." Kol added smoothly, a boyish grin invading his features. Despite my eye roll, I knew the answer already, he would always catch me

Eventually, with a giddy Kol snickering at the bottom of my bedroom window, I released my dress from the vine and scurried down with relative ease from there. When I reached solid ground, I realised a breath of relief, unable to stop smiling at the boy opposite me. From his dark eyes that held secrets beyond my imagination to his undeniable allure, I was enchanted by him in every possible way. In fact, I never thought I would disobey my strict parents, yet I was now sneaking out with somebody that I wasn't to be wed to. The freedom was exultant and now I got a taste, turning back to my old ways was not an option.

"Never in a thousand years would I have ever dreamed that I would act so audacious and then you came along." I voiced my thoughts, knowing how he always wondered what I was thinking about and most of the time it was him. After all, I was prepared to go to great lengths for him.

Kol's expression was initially vacant, but then he smirked slyly. With that, he used his vampire speed to run up behind me, enclosing me in his welcoming arms, a place where I felt safe and loved. "I do believe amantes sunt amentes applies here I think, darling." He whispered into my ear, his hot breath forcing shivers to invade my body.

"What does amantes sunt amentes mean?" I asked, testing the words out on my tongue only to fail miserably at pronouncing the foreign words with as much ease as he did.

"Lovers are lunatics." His words were warm, like his arms, and an undeniable sense of comfort came alongside them. "And you, Charlotte Hatton, make me go absolutely crazy whenever I'm anywhere near you. You can drive me incredibly insane, yet you are the only tether I have to my sanity at the same time. Like one beautiful, bewitching mess of contradictions." The Original confessed, my heart quite possibly pulsing out of my chest with admiration for him. No, admiration was not strong enough. In that moment, I had realised that I loved him. I was hopelessly and pathetically in love with Kol Mikaelson.

Leaning closer to him, he softly pecked my forehead before daringly bringing his lips down to brush against my own. Biting my lip, I moved my head to rest on his shoulder before he could kiss me. Even if I wanted to kiss him, up until the sun came up in the morning, I couldn't. Unfortunately, I was spoken for and until I could figure out a way to hold off my marriage, I had to be cautious. To be that close to him, but unable to kiss him was misery itself. However, to be in the arms of my lover in a quaint garden under the stars, was enough for me.

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"Does she always zone out like that?" I heard somebody question Stefan, their voice was distant though. In my head, I was captured in the blissful end months of 1908.

For the first time in a quite a while, Stefan Salvatore looked up, a sorrowful look travelling through his eyes—only to leave as quick as it made itself known. "Most of the time. She struggles with her memories from the early decades of being a vampire, sometimes things just come back in flashes for her." He divulged, recounting what he had been told after he had persisted in knowing why she never was quite in the present. "Damon always said it is because of the days she didn't have humanity. When she ravaged cities, she blocked out what she did to cope with the guilt. But, I don't believe that and I don't think she does either." The Salvatore contributed further, glancing in my direction.

Klaus pursed his lips, his fist clenching and his features dropped stiffly. Nobody knew what had garnered such an odd reaction from him, nobody challenged it either. It was only then, when I violently shook my head, that I finally had myself back in the room. Aware once more, I gulped at the vivid memory. Lately, they seemed to come more often and lasted longer than usual.

"Woah, how long was I out?" I mumbled, noticing that two people were missing from the dining table. "Where did Damon and Elijah go?" I implored. Exactly the moment Stefan opened his mouth in preparation to reply, the two men entered, a tall female trailing behind, shiny silver platter in hand. Instantly, the atmosphere thickened with their entrance and, in my bones, I could feel something big was about unravel.

When nobody replied to my first question, I used logic to figure it out. From the corner of my eye, I spotted a scathing burn was gushing with puss on Stefan's arm and his vampire healing was acting strangely slow. He looked worn out, his eyes dull and wrinkles crushed his handsome face. As for the Hybrid, he was visibly stressed, but content too. If somebody asked me, it was a peculiar combination, for sure. Whereas when I analysed the expressions of Elijah and Damon's, theirs were smug, a little standoffish maybe. Everybody's mixed expressions had me speculating on what I could have missed whilst I was trapped in my daydreams.

Klaus sat back in his chair, perplexed. "Elijah, why haven't you left?" He demanded.

"Where are you manners, brother? We forgot dessert." Elijah proclaimed, lifting the metallic lid off the tray the sever was holding to reveal three oxidised, engraved daggers. They had no significance to me, they seemed like a rusty, old weapons, but they had a greater impact on his brother. 

"What have you done?" Klaus's voice trembled, startled as his face shone scarlet. In a second, he controlled himself again, but I noticed how his obnoxious exterior wavered. An invincible Original was afraid.

Racking my brain for what had him in such an alarmed state, I remembered what my friend had said. Damon Salvatore plotted to undagger the remaining Originals tonight. Much to my amazement, the imbecile had succeeded—with Elijah's assistance. That certainly made it more convincing, knowing he had help.

"What have you done?" Elijah countered rudely. "You see, I've learned not to trust your vulgar promises, Klaus. We're doing this on my terms now." He declared, adjusting his tie before darting his mocha eyes to the doorway, expecting something—scratch that assumption, someone.

On command, a young man stormed in the room, a hurricane for his soul. Faintly recognising him, the pounding in my head from earlier returned and this time it wasn't a 'steady drum beat,' rather a stampede of ferocious beasts. Chomping. Shredding. Clawing. More intense than before, it was if my body was trying to communicate with me and my mind refused to forward the emergency signals.

"Kol." Klaus breathed out heavily, his jaw tightening.

Kol. Three letters. One syllable. Kol. A name—one that awakened enigmatic emotions inside of me. Kol. I knew the name was valuable to me, but the reason why was locked inside a copper box in a crook of my mind. Kol. As a result of that name, my aching chest began to convulse, my pale hands palpitated and my lungs screeched for more air. Kol. Chanting, it echoed in my mind and grew louder and louder and louder. Hysterical with hot tears trailing my cheeks, in a singular swift movement, I snapped my own neck.

Darkness greeted me like an old friend.

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A.N: I'm going to attempt daily updates, if you guys would like that because I have so many ideas for where to go. Surprisingly, I'm also pretty happy with this chapter because it contains my one of favourite flashbacks in the book. And, it also brings the introduction of Kol, even if he hasn't been reacquainted with Lottie.

Who's your favourite Petrova? Amara, Tatia, Katherine or Elena?