Author's Note: Takes place in the end of 2x11 – By the Light of the Moon, with a small difference (which could hardly be called AU without sounding ridiculous) that Stefan left the tomb before Elijah, giving him and Katherine the chance to have 'a little chat'.
I Loved You First
Elijah's eyes never strayed from Katerina's face as her expression changed from hopeful to desperate with Stefan's dying footsteps – the man who had once allegedly loved her with all his heart and now didn't spare a second glance at her before he took his leave.
Her gaze reluctantly flickered to Elijah, fear mixed with despair and a fierce need of self-preservation.
"Elijah," she whispered, voice cautious, almost pleading. "You can't leave me here."
"Can't I?" he said casually. "I have no reason to think otherwise."
"Please." Now she was definitely pleading, though she managed to keep her tone dignified. Katerina had never been a beggar nor did it seem she'd ever stoop to such level. "I won't run, I promise. I can help you."
"The last time I trusted you to keep your word, you ran off the first chance that presented itself to you. You must know that your pleas fall to deaf ears, I won't be fooled twice."
It was remarkable how her face changed in an instant when she realized her tactics weren't working. She was like a chameleon that way and she had nothing to slow her down – no capacity for regret, no visible shame when caught with a lie. In a blink of an eye her resigned look was replaced with a confident, challenging one whereas her mouth had curved into a mocking smile.
"Oh, Elijah, don't be so dull."
"Do you know the story of Samson and Delilah?" he asked out of the blue.
"You wanna be my Samson?" she said in that sweet, girlish voice of hers, a devious smile crossing her face, that dangerous smile that had lured many a man into her cleverly set trap. She was a witty one, Katerina Petrova – remorseless, determined, even ruthless in getting what she wanted. A little devil in the form of a beautiful, innocent girl, if you may.
"You've had a rather impressive array of Samsons already," he remarked dryly, his face, if possible, colder and harsher than a moment before.
"So you're suggesting I have some pathological desire to cut men's hair?" she purred flirtatiously. How anyone could master the art of both seduction and false modesty and couple it with sharp, deadly wit with such perfection was beyond him.
"As a metaphor, yes," Elijah said, keeping his face diplomatically blank. That was a flawlessly honed skill of his – remaining expressionless, drained of any emotion under even the greatest duress. His only regret was that he hadn't used that particular ability on her five hundred years ago. That he'd let her make him the fool.
"Are you saying I like to ensnare men and strip them of their power?" she japed, glancing upwards in a thoughtful manner, then fixed her eyes on him again. They were bright with amusement and mischief as she drawled, "…because you and I both know that's true,"
"Yes, and that is exactly why you're in such a beggarly predicament as this."
"You're naïve to think me the only manipulator in all of this," she snapped irritably. "Elena has you all wrapped around her little finger and you consider me the seducer?"
"Elena and I have a deal. Besides she inspires people; you simply use them and then throw away when done."
"Don't be stupid, Elijah…"
"You may look the same, but your characters couldn't be more different. She is Odette, while you are Odile, you are opposites. She is pure and selfless, and you… you are egotistic and self-serving."
"And who do you cast as the Prince, do tell?" she teased, laughing lightly, melodically. Everything in the world was a game to her and the worst part of it, perhaps, was that she acknowledged no rules… or, at least, there were none she had not broken. "Yourself? Because as far as I've heard, your sweet White Swan couldn't care less for your affections."
"So it may be, but at least she has a degree of honor you could never hope to accomplish; she doesn't play with people for her own gain or amusement," Elijah spat, an edge of anger and ancient pain in his voice he prayed she didn't detect.
"I never played you," she said and for once her tone was flat, devoid of its usual playfulness. "I deceived Trevor and Rose, and every other word I told Klaus was a lie, every second we spent together just a pretend, I don't deny that. I fooled them all and I don't feel an ounce of regret for that. But what I felt for you was real…" Suddenly her gaze turned taunting again, complete with a despising sneer, "that was until I found out what you planned to do with me. So don't you dare point fingers when you are just as wretched as I am."
"I tried to save your life!" he thundered, only a split second later realizing what he'd said and already cursing himself for not choosing his words more carefully or, in this case, choosing any words at all. He wanted to demand her to take her lying, manipulative claims back, because the thought of her nursing even the faintest hope of deceiving him again was plain insulting to him. She'd tricked him then and she was trying to trick him now, that was all there was to it.
Elijah watched curiously, though there was an old fury boiling in his guts, as Katerina's face paled at his words, surprise evident in her features, before she hid it away. For some reason it felt to him as if she was as busy with denying his confession as he was busy with burying hers.
"You loved me," she nearly whispered. It was not a question, but barely a quiet, fearful statement, maybe even an accusation. She was searching for the truth in his face, but he had no intention of giving it to her.
"It's all ancient history and therefore has long ago lost any importance," he said sharply, stubbornly holding her gaze when all he wanted to do was avert his eyes, leave and not look back. But that would have made him weak and he despised weakness.
She observed him silently for a while before she spoke again. Her eyes were guarded, but oddly serene, no trace of trickery that his perceptive eye could catch. "Maybe," she said, her jaw clenched and her voice low and husky in a way that was just so… her. "But the truth in the matter is – I loved you first."
"No, you never loved anyone at all," he remarked icily.
"If that's what you want to believe… it won't change the truth."
"There is no truth where you're concerned, only myths and fairytales, and even those end miserably."
She uttered a laugh, but it was cold and bitter. "I stand by my words, I regret nothing. What I did, I did to survive. I refuse to feel guilty for that."
"And that's why you've never learned the true meaning of love despite the five hundred years you've spent on this earth."
As his words sunk in, her face tightened and her eyes obtained a steely glint. "If that's true then only because your rabid sadist of a brother slaughtered my family and showed me just how much love can hurt when taken away. So don't lecture me on the subject! You and your brother ripped my heart out with your damn sacrifice and threw it to the dogs, so if I became a cold-hearted bitch than that is on you."
Elijah could only stare at her. Despite of how badly he wanted to deny it, her words had a grain of truth in it. They had used her and when she found out, she refused to be the victim. And from that moment on she used everybody else. They had destroyed her ability to trust, her capacity to care for anyone at all. So this Katerina, no – Katherine, before him was their creation, his and Klaus's, and he couldn't help but feel a jolt of remorse for that.
The angry accusation that burned in her eyes hit a little too close to home. But as he'd long ago learned, time cannot be turned, not backwards nor forwards. What's done is done.
So he pushed the sudden wave of sadness into the back of his mind, said politely "Good bye, Katerina," and took his leave not daring to look back.
I suppose you could say it was slightly inspired by Regina Spektor's "Samson", if anyone was wondering.