Lucien trudged down the hallway, muscles aching from the training session.
Klaus's dismissal still echoed in his ears, the hybrid's sudden shift from controlled mentor to barely contained fury leaving him bewildered.
He reached his bedroom door, hesitating only briefly before turning the ornate handle. The room beyond was bathed in afternoon light filtering through heavy curtains, casting the luxurious space in amber hues.
Katherine lay sprawled across the king-sized bed, a leather-bound book held above her face. She didn't look up as he entered, turning a page with deliberate casualness.
"Finally escaped the big bad wolf's clutches?" she asked, her voice light with practiced nonchalance.
Lucien didn't answer immediately. Instead, he crossed to the bed and collapsed face-first onto the silk comforter with a groan. For a moment, he simply lay there, letting his muscles unclench.
Katherine's eyes flicked to him over the edge of her book, a hint of genuine concern briefly visible before her usual mask of detached amusement slid back into place.
"That good, huh?" she quipped.
Lucien mumbled something unintelligible into the comforter before turning his head to the side. "Training with an immortal hybrid who has a thousand years of combat experience is exactly as fun as it sounds."
With effort, he dragged himself fully onto the bed, crawling up until his head rested against the pillows beside her. The mattress shifted slightly under his weight as he settled in.
"Klaus still using just his finger?" Katherine asked, turning another page.
"Yes," Lucien sighed. "One finger. That's all he needs to completely humiliate me."
Katherine's lips curved into a smirk. "Well, he has had a millennium to perfect the art of humiliation. You're just giving him a new canvas."
Lucien rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. Katherine's sardonic humor was oddly comforting in how familiar it was. He honestly was afraid she would lock herself in out of fear of Klaus.
As they fell into comfortable silence, Lucien noticed something that made his brow furrow. Katherine's hands weren't quite steady as she held her book. A subtle tremor ran through her fingers, causing the pages to rustle almost imperceptibly.
His eyes traveled up to her face, noticing details he'd missed at first glance.
Her skin held an unusual pallor beneath her olive complexion. Her pupils seemed to dilate and contract at irregular intervals. A fine sheen of moisture dotted her hairline – sweat, on a vampire who normally didn't perspire unless extremely tired.
"What's wrong?" he asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
Katherine's eyes remained fixed on her book. "Nothing's wrong. Just enjoying some light reading about..." she glanced at the cover, "...15th century agricultural practices. Fascinating stuff."
"Katherine." Lucien's voice carried a note of warning.
"Lucien," she mimicked his tone perfectly, still not meeting his eyes.
He reached out, grasping her wrist gently but firmly. The book lowered, revealing her face fully. Her expression was carefully composed, but Lucien could see the strain around her eyes, the tightness in her jaw.
"You're trembling," he said quietly.
"Am I?" She raised an eyebrow, the picture of innocence. "Perhaps I'm overcome with excitement about crop rotation techniques."
Lucien didn't smile. Instead, he tightened his grip slightly on her wrist, feeling the unnatural tremors running through it.
"Don't," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Don't lie to me. You promised."
The words hung between them, heavy.
Katherine's carefully constructed expression faltered for a moment, something vulnerable flickering across her features before she could suppress it.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. For a long moment, she simply looked at him, an internal battle playing out behind her eyes.
Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "-n't enough."
Lucien leaned closer, not sure he'd heard correctly. "What?"
Katherine pulled her wrist from his grasp, sitting up straighter against the headboard. When she spoke again, her voice was louder but tight with controlled frustration.
"It isn't enough. The blood. No matter how many bags I take from Klaus's stash, it just... it isn't enough."
For a moment Lucien didn't understand.
Not enough? Why wouldn't the blood be enough? Klaus had the highest quality stuff - he wouldn't accept any less.
'Wait... highest quality stuff...'
It dawned on him.
For days now, before they arrived here, he'd been allowing Katherine to feed from him regularly – sometimes even multiple times in an hour – to counteract the werewolf venom.
His blood, infused with the Light Side of the Force, was pure life energy. Compared to that, even the richest human blood would be...
"Like water after wine," he murmured, completing the thought aloud.
Katherine's laugh held no humor. "More like water after heroin." her immediately knowing he understood.
She set the book aside, no longer pretending to read. Her hands came to rest in her lap, where the trembling was more evident without the book to disguise it.
"I've been drinking human blood for five centuries," she said, staring down at her shaking hands. "It's always been enough. More than enough. But now..."
"You're addicted to my blood," Lucien finished for her.
Katherine's jaw tightened, clearly hating the word 'addicted.' In five centuries of survival, dependency on anyone or anything was a vulnerability she couldn't afford.
"Your blood contains just so much... life," she acknowledged with a sigh of both need and frustration. "My body's become accustomed to it. The threshold is too high now for regular blood to satisfy."
Lucien studied her face, seeing the struggle she was trying so hard to hide. Without hesitation, he extended his wrist toward her.
"Here," he offered simply.
Katherine's reaction was immediate and visceral. Her eyes darkened, veins appearing beneath them as her vampire features emerged unbidden. Her fangs extended partially before she caught herself, turning away sharply.
"No," she said, the word clipped and harsh.
"Katherine, you're in pain. I can help."
"I said no." She moved to the edge of the bed, putting distance between them. Her back was rigid, hands clenched into fists to control their trembling.
Lucien sat up fully, watching her carefully. "Why not?"
Katherine didn't answer immediately. She stood, moving to the window where she pulled the curtain aside slightly, staring out at the manicured grounds of Klaus's estate.
"I need to break this... dependency," she finally said, her voice steadier than her hands. "I've survived five centuries by relying on no one but myself."
Lucien remained silent, sensing there was more she wasn't saying.
Through the Force, he could feel waves of conflicting emotions radiating from her – frustration, hunger, and something else... fear?
"That's not the only reason," he observed quietly.
Katherine's shoulders tensed. "No?" Her tone was deliberately light, challenging.
"You're afraid you'll hurt me."
The words landed in the room like physical things. Katherine remained facing the window, but Lucien saw her reflection in the glass – the brief flash of vulnerability before her mask reasserted itself.
"Don't flatter yourself," she replied, but the barb lacked her usual bite.
Lucien slid off the bed, approaching her slowly. "You're afraid that if I let you start feeding, make myself so... vulnerable to you, I won't be able to protect myself in time. That you... won't be able to stop."
Katherine turned to face him, arms crossed defensively. "I've killed thousands without a second thought, Lucien. What makes you think I'd hesitate with you?"
But they both knew the answer.
"Because you love me," Lucien said simply.
Katherine didn't deny it. Instead, she looked away, jaw clenched.
"This addiction..." she began, then paused, clearly hating the admission. "I've never experienced anything like it. The hunger is... different. More intense. Less controlled."
"You're a god Lucien, but even gods have fallen because they made themselves vulnerable at the wrong moment. And I... I don't want to be yours."
She paced a few steps, movements tight with restrained energy. "If I lose control-"
"You won't," Lucien interrupted.
"You don't know that." Katherine's voice rose slightly. "I've felt the power in your blood. It's not just sustenance – it's like pure power flowing through my veins. I feel like I'm invincible, all my strengths are heightened. The pleasure- the high is..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "I need to break this before it gets worse."
Lucien watched her for a moment, noting how she unconsciously rubbed her arms as if cold, despite vampires always feeling at a perfect comfortable temperature.
"Let's get out of this room," he suggested suddenly. "Sitting here thinking about it won't help."
Katherine looked skeptical but nodded after a moment. "Fine. A distraction might help."
As they moved toward the door, Lucien noticed Katherine deliberately keeping space between them.
He reached out, taking her hand in his. She stiffened momentarily, then relaxed, her fingers intertwining with his.
"I trust you," he said quietly.
Katherine didn't respond, but she didn't pull away either.
They walked in silence through the mansion's ornate hallways, their footsteps muffled by thick carpets.
Gilded frames housed paintings from various centuries – Klaus's collection spanning his long existence.
"Have you been in this part of the house before?" Lucien asked as they turned down a corridor lined with medieval tapestries.
Katherine shook her head. "No. I've been keeping to our rooms and the dining area. Less chance of running into Klaus."
"Even with the contract protecting you?"
A sardonic smile touched her lips. "Five hundred years of running creates habits that are hard to break."
They paused before a large painting depicting a battle scene. The brushwork was distinctive, almost modern despite the medieval subject matter.
"Klaus painted this," Katherine said, studying it with a critical eye. "He's always fancied himself an artist."
Lucien glanced at her, surprised. "How can you tell?"
"The brushwork. The composition." She gestured vaguely. "Also, he signed it. Bottom right corner."
Lucien squinted, finding the small, elegant "K.M." nearly hidden in the chaos of the battle scene.
"So he likes painting, huh."
'Of course, I know he paints. I remember the guy literally painting with someone's blood while talking to Elijah, saying that he finally found the correct shade of red... Just gotta act ignorant though, without outright lying. So long my Force visions are heavily blocked, its best I don't make people have wrong expectations of me.'
"There's a lot you don't know about him," Katherine replied. Her voice took on a distant quality. "I spent decades studying everything I could about the Originals – their habits, their preferences, their weaknesses. Knowledge was my only weapon against them."
They continued walking, coming upon a music room filled with instruments from various eras – a grand piano, violins, even what appeared to be an ancient lute.
Katherine approached the lute, her fingers hovering over its strings without touching them. "I played one of these. In the 16th century."
"Really?" Lucien asked, genuinely surprised.
She nodded, a distant look in her eyes. "Music was one of the few constants through the centuries. Styles changed, but the comfort remained the same."
Her hand trembled visibly as she reached for the instrument. Lucien noticed her swallow hard, her composure slipping momentarily.
Lucien bit the inside of his cheek. He agreed with Katherine. He understood that she was right, that her addiction to his blood isn't probably the best thing for her right now.
But...
"Katherine," he said softly, extending his wrist again. "Please. Just a little."
Her hurting was just- painful.
He internally realised that it was selfish, that her hurting like this was hurting him, so he wanted her to stop hurting, even if it cost her control over herself to him, but he just couldn't careless about that right now.
He almost let out a hysterical chuckle at the thought, 'Who knew, Katherine Pierce, who I around 3 weeks ago, wanted to fry with lightning would become someone I would instinctively care so much about. If any monster bastard told me before this all happened, I would've slapped their head off for even saying it with how much I hated her.'
As she looked at his wrist, her eyes filled with need, but she quickly shook her head firmly, stepping away from both him and the lute. "No. I need to break this, not feed it."
They continued their exploration, finding themselves in a vast gallery.
Portraits lined the walls – faces from different centuries, all captured with remarkable skill. Katherine paused before one depicting a young woman in Renaissance clothing, her expression solemn.
"I remember her," Katherine said quietly. "From 1492. One of Klaus's favorites. She didn't survive his attention. When I first saw it I thought it was a nightmare. He compelled me to forget. But well, once you become a vampire, all compulsions when you're human break, and I... remembered."
Lucien studied Katherine's emotions and the portrait, noting the fear barely hidden behind the woman's composed expression. "You're thinking that you could have been her."
"Yes." Katherine's voice was distant.
"After I... When I met Klaus, he didn't let anyone get close to me. Didn't want me to have any relations with anyone, which I later realised was because he didn't want... complications when the time came. If I hadn't run. If I hadn't become what I am. I would've ended dead, drained completely of my blood, while he loomed over my empty corpse. Like her."
They stood silently for a long moment.
Then they once more moved through the gallery, Lucien noticed Katherine's symptoms worsening.
The tremors in her hands had intensified. Sweat beaded more visibly on her forehead. Occasionally, she would wince as if in pain.
They came upon an alcove with a window seat overlooking the gardens. Katherine sank onto the cushioned bench, clearly needing a moment to compose herself.
"It's getting worse," Lucien observed, sitting beside her.
Katherine didn't deny it. "It will pass. Eventually."
"Or you could just-"
"No." The word was firm, final.
Lucien studied her face. "Why are you putting yourself through this?" he asked as he gently put his palm against her face, moving to cup her chin, raising her head to look him in the eyes. "Are you that afraid of me using this to have control over you?"
Katherine just looked up at him, silent for a long moment. She turned her head to stare away out into the gardens, Lucien letting her go.
When she finally spoke, her voice was... soft.
"It's... It's not that. As I said, you're my god. You having control over me is a given. The Gods are all like that. They can be wrathful, controlling, lustful... When I first found out about you, I made my peace with all of it. No matter how wrathful you were, how controlling, how lustful, so long as you kept me at your side, safety, at... Peace. I was- still am okay... with it."
She fell silent once more for a long moment, thinking, her tongue feeling tied, trying to come up with the words, before finally turning to look at him directly.
"Five centuries. For five centuries, I've never cared enough about anyone to worry about hurting them." She told him. "I've used people, manipulated them, killed them when necessary. It never mattered to me."
She reached out with trembling fingers, touching his face lightly. "But you... I can't bear the thought of hurting you. And that terrifies me more than Klaus ever could."
The admission hung in the air between them, raw and honest in a way Katherine Pierce rarely allowed herself to be.
Their moment was interrupted by sudden movement in the hallway. Servants rushed past, their steps hurried.
"What's happening?" Lucien asked, rising from the window seat.
Katherine stood as well, her body immediately tensing. Even in her weakened state, centuries of survival instincts kept her alert to potential threats.
Klaus appeared at the end of the hallway, his expression unreadable as he took in the sight of them holding hands. If he noticed, he made no comment.
"We have a guest arriving," he announced, his tone revealing nothing. "An important one."
Lucien and Katherine exchanged glances. "Who?" Lucien asked.
Klaus merely smiled enigmatically. "Come and see."
They followed him toward the mansion's entrance, Katherine's grip on Lucien's hand tightening perceptibly.
Despite her weakened state, she kept her posture straight, her expression carefully composed as they entered the grand foyer.
Servants moved around them, making final adjustments to the already immaculate space.
Fresh flowers had appeared in crystal vases. Candles were being lit despite the afternoon sun still streaming through tall windows.
"Quite the welcome," Lucien observed, glancing at Klaus.
"Family deserves nothing less," Klaus replied cryptically.
Katherine's hand suddenly gripped Lucien's almost painfully. Her entire body had gone rigid, her eyes fixed on the massive front doors as they began to swing open.
Lucien sensed a surge of emotions from her – not fear, as he might have expected, but a complex mixture of resentment, contempt, and something like vindication.
Sunlight spilled into the foyer as the doors fully opened, silhouetting the figure standing on the threshold.
Elijah Mikaelson.
He stood perfectly still, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that seemed at odds with the modern world outside.
His expression remained composed as he took in the scene before him – until his gaze fell on Katherine.
For the briefest moment, surprise flickered across his features before his mask of control reasserted itself.
Klaus stepped forward, arms spread in a welcoming gesture.
"Big Brother," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Welcome home."
-------------------------
(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.
Do tell me how you found it.
I hope you guys liked Lucien and Katherine focus of this chapter, and more of Lucien's kind of selfishness and more of his possessiveness showing.
Do tell me what you thought of it.
So, Elijah is here.
"The Noble One."
"He who is called, Honourable."
I hope you guys are excited. Hope to see you all later,
Bye!)