Pureblood | Elijah Mikaelson 
It was 1374. The musicians had begun a slower song, and he held his hand towards her, a silent invitation for a dance. Her cheeks reddened, but still she laid her hand on his, smiling. His brothers watched as the couple glided along the dance floor, everyone realizing the attraction between them, except for those involved. By the end of the song, most had understood that she would be wed to him. However, destiny had to meddle. After all, no love story can truly be perfect, can it?