Katherine Pierce's POV:
I stood by the window of my bedroom, watching the morning light paint golden patterns across the Mikaelson estate.
Five centuries of running, and now I'd been standing still for five years.
Five years of safety.
Five years of... happiness.
The concept still felt foreign in my mind.
Happiness.
Security.
Love.
Not the kind I manufactured through manipulation and seduction. Not the desperate survival instinct that had driven me since 1492. Something genuine. Something I'd never imagined possible for someone like me.
Below, gardeners moved across the immaculate lawn, maintaining Klaus's vision of perfection. I watched as he directed them, his passion for beauty unchanged despite how much else had transformed in him.
In all of us.
Five years ago, I would have been calculating exit strategies, mapping mental escape routes from this mansion. Now, I simply enjoyed the view, my body relaxed in a way it hadn't been for centuries.
My reflection in the glass caught my attention – same olive skin, same dark curls, same face that had destroyed many for seeking to possess it.
But my eyes had changed. The perpetual wariness had softened into something else. Something I was still learning to recognize.
Warm arms encircled my waist from behind, pulling me against a familiar chest. Lips pressed against my cheek, and I couldn't help the smile that formed in response.
"Have I told you today how much I love you?" Lucien murmured against my skin.
I laughed softly – a genuine sound that only he could draw from me – and turned within his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Only about a million times," I teased, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "You always do that. Randomly telling me you love me."
Lucien's eyebrows rose slightly, his blue eyes searching mine. "Does it annoy you? That I constantly, repeatedly tell you that?"
The question softened something in me. How could he even think that?
His love was my peace.
My joy. My security. My strength.
My everything.
I leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was softer than my usual approach, yet still hungry with need. When we broke apart, both slightly breathless, I looked into his eyes.
"Of course not," I whispered against his lips. "Who could ever be annoyed by their god professing how much they love them?"
The thought still thrilled me, made my heart feel like it might fly out of my chest.
The literal Son of God loved me.
Was in love with me.
Had taken me as his woman, partner, companion, best friend, worshipper, champion, protector, and protected.
After five centuries of darkness, I'd found my salvation not in redemption, but in being chosen by divinity itself.
The crash from downstairs interrupted our moment, followed by Stefan's exasperated voice. Lucien and I exchanged knowing looks.
"Damon," we said simultaneously.
I sighed, leaning my forehead against Lucien's chest for a moment. "It's been a week. You'd think he'd have gotten the hint by now."
"Stefan's ignoring him is only making him more desperate for attention," Lucien observed, his hand running soothingly along my back.
"Like a child throwing a tantrum," I agreed.
The past week had been... tense. Since our return from the restaurant with Damon in tow, Stefan had been giving his brother the cold shoulder. Complete silence. Acting as if Damon didn't exist. And Damon, being Damon, had responded by becoming increasingly obnoxious.
The only silver lining in this is that Damon doesn't live here, so he can only be here so long, before Lucien will finally kick him out- my god for some reason, willing to humor Damon and his need for Stefan to care.
"We should probably go down there before he breaks something valuable," I suggested, though I made no move to leave Lucien's embrace.
"Mmm, I suppose," Lucien agreed, equally reluctant. "Though I doubt Father would mind an excuse to dismember him."
I smiled at that. "True. Klaus would love that. But then Stefan would be upset."
"And we can't have that," Lucien said, pressing a final kiss to my forehead before releasing me.
As we descended the stairs, I couldn't help remembering the car ride a week ago, explaining to Damon about the Originals while he sat in shocked silence.
The look on his face when I told him Klaus was essentially his "vampire god" – the progenitor of his bloodline – had been priceless.
"No, that's not – that can't be right," he'd sputtered.
"Afraid so," I'd replied with smug satisfaction. "Every vampire traces back to one Original. Yours traces back to Klaus. He's your great-great-whatever grandsire. If he dies, you die."
Damon had fallen silent then, processing what it meant- being at the mercy of someone even more powerful and unpredictable than himself.
The scene in the living room was exactly what I'd expected.
Elena stood between Stefan and Damon, her posture suggesting she was attempting to mediate.
Stefan sat in an armchair, a book open in his lap, his eyes fixed on the page with deliberate focus. Damon paced in front of him, gesturing dramatically as he spoke.
Klaus watched from the doorway with detached amusement, while Elijah maintained his dignified distance near the windows. Kol lounged on the couch, openly enjoying the drama.
"Come on, brother," Damon was saying as we entered. "You can't ignore me forever. We have things to discuss. Important, brotherly things."
Stefan turned a page in his book without looking up.
"What's happening now?" I asked Elena quietly, moving to stand beside her.
She rolled her eyes, the gesture so similar to one of my own that I almost smiled. In the past five years, I'd noticed her adopting certain mannerisms from me. It was... oddly endearing.
"Same as yesterday," she replied. "And the day before. Damon talks, Stefan ignores him, Damon gets more outrageous."
I nodded, studying Damon's face. I knew his expressions better than most – had seen them across decades. The tightness around his eyes, the slightly manic quality to his movements. He was reaching a breaking point.
"He's going to do something stupid," I murmured.
Elena glanced at me. "More stupid than usual?"
"Much more," I confirmed.
Lucien had moved to stand near Klaus, son and Dad next to each other- the two exchanging quiet words. Though Lucien had his back to me, I could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was monitoring the situation closely.
"You know what? Fine," Damon announced suddenly, his voice cutting through the room. "You want to play the silent treatment? Two can play that game."
He dropped dramatically onto the couch opposite Kol, crossing his arms and adopting an exaggerated expression of silence. It lasted approximately fifteen seconds.
"This is ridiculous," Damon burst out, standing again. "What do I have to do to get you to talk to me? Set myself on fire? Jump off the roof? Turn into a circus clown?"
Stefan turned another page.
"You're seriously going to keep this up?" Damon demanded. "After everything? After I spent a hundred and forty-five years trying to save your girlfriend from a tomb she was never in?"
I couldn't help the small smirk that formed on my lips at that. Damon caught it and narrowed his eyes at me.
"Oh, you think this is funny, Katherine? You enjoy watching this?" he snapped.
"Immensely," I replied, my tone light and unconcerned.
Damon's gaze shifted between me and Lucien, his expression darkening. I recognized the look – had seen it countless times before.
He was about to lash out.
"You know what, Stefan?" Damon said, his voice taking on that dangerous edge I knew so well. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we don't have anything to talk about. Maybe I should just accept that you've got a new family now. The all-powerful Mikaelsons and their pet psychic."
Stefan's jaw tightened slightly – the first reaction he'd shown to anything Damon had said all week.
"Though I have to say," Damon continued, his eyes fixed on his brother even as his words were clearly aimed elsewhere, "I'm surprised you're okay with your new 'master' or whatever taking our sloppy seconds."
The temperature in the room plummeted instantly. I could see my breath forming small clouds in front of my face. Beside me, Elena tensed, her hands curling into fists.
"I mean, what does that make you, huh?" Damon continued, turning toward Lucien now, either oblivious to the danger or deliberately ignoring it. "Taking Katherine after both of us had her? Doesn't that make you a c-"
The word never finished forming. Damon's tongue fell from his mouth, severed cleanly, landing on the floor with a wet slap as blood began to pour from his mouth.
The shock on his face would have been comical if not for the waves of cold power emanating from Lucien. His expression hadn't changed, but his eyes had – burning with a wrath that made something primal in me respond with both fear and desire.
This was biblical jealousy. The possessive rage of divinity that had once destroyed cities and flooded worlds.
Stefan moved first, crossing to Lucien with vampire speed. He didn't try to restrain him – that would have been both futile and disrespectful – but gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Please," Stefan said softly, a slight plead in his tone. "Please, Lucien."
I watched Lucien's expression soften slightly at Stefan's touch, though the room remained freezing. Without a word, he slipped out of Stefan's gentle hold and approached Damon, who had collapsed to his knees, blood pouring from his mouth onto the polished floor.
Lucien crouched before him, studying him with cold detachment.
For a long, long moment, he was silent, just looking down at Damon, who was increasingly panicking as his vampire healing wasn't working- you don't anger God's literal son (and Klaus of all monsters' adopted one) and think you can get away with the consequences after all.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?" he asked, his voice quiet but carrying clearly through the silent room.
Damon looked up, eyes wide with shock and pain.
He gestured frantically to his fallen tongue, then to his bleeding mouth, making incoherent gurgling sounds. The meaning was clear: What the hell do you mean? You did this to me!
Lucien sighed, as if explaining something to a particularly slow child. "Don't you see it? I've been merciful to you. I looked past your evil actions – for Stefan. Let you into my home whenever you please – for Stefan. Letting you be in the protection of my family's presence. And yet you still do this..."
He shook his head. "Don't you get it? This is your chance to... start over."
As he spoke, I could see him withdrawing his life energy from Damon's mouth, allowing the dark magic of vampirism to begin healing the wound. Damon's tongue slowly regenerated, his expression shifting from agony to relief as he tested it, moving it in his mouth.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Damon finally managed, his voice rough.
Lucien remained silent for a long moment. I glanced around the room, noting how everyone was watching the scene unfold.
Klaus looked almost proud, Elijah maintained his careful neutrality, Elena's expression held a strange satisfaction, and Kol was openly entertained.
"I am being... merciful," Lucien finally said. "Especially considering your current offense."
Without warning, he grabbed Damon's jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Did you seriously think that anyone- let alone you of all people could have even a mark on what is mine?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
I felt a shiver run through me at his words – not of fear, but of something else.
God, how much I loved it when he called me his. The honour in that. The protection. The safety.
The love.
"Katherine is my champion – like Stefan," Lucien continued. "I have literally renewed both of their beings. They both have my blessing of power."
I couldn't help but lick my lips at his words, remembering exactly what he meant.
Five years ago, when I had evolved through his blood, he had changed me at the physical and soul level, returning my purity in every sense of the word.
(And has taken it too- it was so delicious when he did. I can't wait for when he takes me again.)
He had made Stefan and me truly immortal – just like Dracula, God's former champion.
If we were to die, and nothing interrupted our souls, we would revive after three days and nights, stronger than what had killed us.
Damon's expression showed his confusion – he had no idea what being Lucien's champion meant, believing Lucien was merely Klaus's adopted son.
"Let go," Lucien ordered, pushing Damon away. "Let go of what isn't yours."
He rose to his feet, looking down at Damon with something between disgust and pity. "The reason I call you a cuck isn't just to irritate you – though that is a big part of it. I dislike engaging in petty insults unless it gives me a true advantage in a situation. No, it's because it's a literal description of you."
Damon glared up at him, still on his knees.
"You're refusing to let go of Katherine in your heart, despite her having made it clear for one hundred and forty-five years that she wasn't in love with you," Lucien continued.
"Because of this, you've ruined your own relationship with your little brother. And you're still making yourself feel the emotional pain by wanting Katherine despite knowing she's mine and constantly with me."
His voice softened slightly. "What you need to do is let go of what isn't yours and try to rebuild what is broken. Who knows? There may be a lot on the other side."
Damon wiped blood from his chin. "Since when did you, the son of the big bad wolf, become my shrink?" he asked bitterly.
Lucien rolled his eyes. "Think about it. Actually thinking correctly for once might help you, and can give you a lot since I'm quite generous – especially because Stefan still cares about you. I think him stopping me from killing you, should've been evidence enough."
He turned away from Damon, snapping his fingers casually. Damon's neck twisted with a sickening crack, his body collapsing to the floor.
Lucien approached Elena and me, wrapping an arm around each of us. "Let's go out," he said, his tone suddenly light, as if he hadn't just severed a tongue and broken a neck in the span of ten minutes. "I'm in the mood for some pasta."
"Sounds perfect," I replied, leaning into his embrace.
Elena nodded her agreement. "I could eat."
As we left the mansion, I couldn't help glancing back at Damon's unconscious form on the floor.
Five centuries ago, I would have been the one manipulating him, using his devotion for my own ends.
Now I was the one protected, cherished, loved by a being whose power made vampires look like children playing at monsters.
The sunlight outside felt warm after the icy chill of Lucien's wrath. I slipped my hand into his as we walked to the car, feeling the steady strength of his fingers interlacing with mine.
"Are you okay?" Elena asked softly from Lucien's other side.
I realized the question was directed at me, not him. Her concern seemed genuine, truly I'm happy that I saved her five years ago. She's the closest thing I've ever had to a little sister.
My dear doppelganger. My dear little descendant- the only one I'm actually willing to share the love of my god with.
"I'm fine," I assured her, offering a small smile. "It takes more than Damon Salvatore to upset me."
"Still," she persisted, "hearing those things he said..."
I shrugged elegantly. "I've been called worse by better."
"You don't have to pretend with us, Katherine." Elena said.
I looked up at her, at those eyes- one of the few ones able to actually see through me, and care about me. "I'm not pretending," I said honestly. "What Damon thinks of me has never mattered to me."
As we reached the car, Lucien opened the door for me, his hand lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary.
Five hundred years of running, and I'd finally found something worth staying for. Something worth fighting for. Something worth worshipping.
I'd found my god, and he had found me worthy.
And that was worth all the centuries of darkness that had come before.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.
Do tell me how you found it.
Lucien as you've seen is giving Damon... chances.
Despite how much I dislike Damon, he still at least deserves a chance, to change, and redeem himself- since Katherine and Klaus also got it- so why not him?
We all just need to see if he takes it.
What do you think, will he?
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)