ivyrose • klaus

how hard should it be to dagger her . . .?

Left on a quiet plane, there was nothing around. No noise, no movement, just solitude. Even if she hoped for something unique to enter the wasteland of her mind the world would call the land of dreams, Ivy-Rose knew it would never come. Forever would she be pulled into the depths of her barren mind when she closed her eyes. In her mind, she was in the midst of a never-ending ocean, caught in its still yet violent currents. Two forces contended for her being—fought for her power—for their own. Not once had she found peace even in her mind. The quiet was deafening, even if she wished for it past her lips. This silence was a prison. A prison she was forever chained to. No dream formed in her mind. No wild scenarios jumped into frame. She was just existing. 

Could I dream? A voice so distant asked. Was that me? No answer called back. 

No, it's impossible. Your thoughts aren't your own. Your thoughts don't belong to you. Again, the voice spoke in the distance. Lost in the waves, Ivy-Rose couldn't bear open her eyes. If she did, the hard truth that no one was there would tear itself into her heart. If she opened her mouth, the water would drown her in a second, not giving her a chance to speak. 

I don't belong to myself—was the only thought Ivy-Rose could dig in her mind. A reminder, a calling for her life. 

O, Klaus. How violent are your waves in my life that I faced the threat of death even by floating in your midst? They are too dangerous for even a leisurely passage. But Ivy-Rose was so lost in them she didn't think about freeing herself. It was all she recognized when she closed her eyes. The rocky depths of the man who owned her life. 

Even if they are violent, unsupportive even for herself at times, she's endured so much. Why should she leave now? Why should I swim to the surface when I can rest here? When I'm here I know my life will be protected...I am valued for my being and am treasured. 

Right?

O, this thinking was too much. If it was a dream, Ivy-Rose wished for it to stop. To return to the quiet plane of her mind where no other thought besides Klaus and only Klaus held her mind captive. Whatever she was to face would happen later. Right now, in the dark space she called her mind, all Ivy-Rose wished was to be swept deeper into the cold depths 

"Oh, my dear puppy. She's knocked out, completely."

Standing from her deep chaise, Rebekah looked down at her sister's figure slumped in a reclining chaise. The office provided an excellent space in reading the collected histories of the Salvatore family. Having finished reading town records from five decades ago, Rebekah peeked her head up to see Ivy-Rose completely unconscious. A finger of hers bookmarked a section in a dusty book resting gently in her lap. Curious to see the series of books her sister focused so much of her time on, Rebekah's eyes were attracted to a name hidden under her sister's thumb. 

"...The Bloodhound, specialists concluded, was responsible for over 140,000 deaths spanning two days. City officials ruled the deaths a chemical reaction. Autopsies revealed the burning of lungs..." Rebekah rolled her eyes with a quiet laugh, closed the book and it peeled it from her sister's limp grasp. "Obsessed with your own infamy, huh?"

Bending over to fan her breath over her sister's face, Rebekah spoke again, but now to another pair of ears. Her eyes focused themselves on the sleeping hybrid. "In this state, she'll be as still as a buddha statue. My puppy deserves a good rest before anything, anyways." The vampire could only guess how much power Ivy-Rose needed for a tracking spell and siphoning links. 

With one last stare to her sleeping sister, Rebekah trailed her cooling gaze to Elena. The girl stood at the doorway of the office and didn't make a sound until the door was closed and they were comfortably back in the living room.