Previously on Taste: "…nothing would stand in her way."

January 25, 2011

Katherine rolled over in the large bed, blinking away the harsh rays of sunlight. Needless to say, she was not a morning person. When she managed to not hit anything, she lifted her head from the veritable mountains of pillows she always slept with. Elijah was missing from his bed. Normally—or the few amount of times she had stayed over, which was… Actually more frequent than not, but that was a moot point—Elijah would be up hours before her, usually reading in bed when she woke up. However, he was absent this morning for some reason, which, while she probably should have been suspicious, she was not. It was not like they were together.

Katherine picked up a note left on top of her phone, which, of course, was written on fancy stationary in immaculate cursive. "Katerina, there were some errands which required my immediate attention. I will return around noon. -Elijah" She read aloud to the empty room, letting out a small laugh. "A simple text message would have sufficed."

With a good two hours until Elijah was due to arrive back, Katherine set out to amuse herself, grabbing a thin robe to throw over her short nightdress, just so she did not surprise the mailman half-dressed again. The poor man's eyes had nearly bugged out of his head, which had been amusing, but once of that was enough. Stalkers were not very enjoyable to have, after all.

After two cups of coffee, an interaction with a hairbrush, and an episode of her guilty pleasure show, Gossip Girl, Katherine was bored once more. There was only so much to do on a bitterly cold morning, after all.

Back up in Elijah's suite, she meandered around idly, amusing herself with the various trinkets and books around the shelves as the recently-stoked fireplace slowly warmed the room. Katherine found a fair amount of items Rebekah had probably sent him, for they just screamed 'Weird Old Ugly Things Only a Sister Would Give'. There were more grimoires than she had expected in the small portion of his library he kept upstairs, though after further examination she saw they were Esther's, so that explained quite a bit. However, there was one item which aroused Katherine's suspicions: it was a little wooden box, with pretty carvings on the top, of flowers and animals and such, normally given to young ladies as a sign of affection, or as a gift of courtship.

Katherine knew exactly what the box was used for, as she herself had received many over the centuries, especially as a young girl in Bulgaria. But why exactly did Elijah—her very not-young-or-decidedly-female lover—have a lady's courtship present? It certainly was not for her, after all.

"To my angel, Tatia." Katherine read the inscription—written in runes, which she knew enough of to understand—on the inside lid, jealousy darkening her voice, to where she nearly spat out the other doppelganger's name. "Tatia. He has a box that he gave Tatia." Why... Why would he have something he gave her? Did he still love that woman? Rage and bitterness flooded her veins as Katherine wondered if there were more things of Tatia's in this house. Elijah had told her this was his favorite residence after all… What if he kept more of her?

Katherine went on a jealous rampage throughout the townhouse, first checking Elijah's closet, but when that proved to be useless, she made her way towards the attic. He would need to store his things someplace, and she knew the contents of his office - there was nothing of hers there. Upstairs, Katherine hit jackpot. In a small wooden crate that she practically had to rip the nailed-down lid off of were things of hers. Stacks and stacks of sketches, all signed by Klaus, men's jewelry which must have been made by her hand, trinkets, and more wooden carvings like the one downstairs had once been carefully placed within the box, but now were scattered around Katherine on the floor, a semi-circle of damning evidence. What was she supposed to do about this?

Downstairs, Elijah let himself in the front door after a morning of handling some affairs. One of the companies he had large stake in had called an emergency board meeting, and his presence had been immediately required, no matter how loath to leave the bed he was that morning. The house was more quiet than usual, but it was the butler's day off, and the maids only came on the weekends, after all, so the silence was nothing unusual. Though, Katerina should have heard him come in… Unless she was watching that ridiculous television show about spoiled teenagers on her laptop again, which was very likely.

When Elijah checked first the living room, and then his rooms, without finding her, he knew something was off, especially considering her cellphone was still on the nightstand, and none of her clothes appeared to be missing. "Katerina?" He called out. There was no answer. However, the sound of a slow heartbeat—her heartbeat—could be faintly heard from the floor above him. Now, what on earth was she doing in the attic? There was nothing of interest up there, anyways, other than boxes of old mementoes.

"Katerina, what on earth are you doing up here?" He asked, walking through the open attic door. When he entered, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her robe riding up her thighs, hair loose and curly around her shoulders. She looked strikingly young, like a mask had been removed. Then, he noticed what she was surrounded by, and his heart sank.

She lifted her eyes to meet his, face eerily calm and cold. "Perhaps instead you could explain to me why you have a box full of my long-dead doppelganger's things."

-0-0-0-0-0-

Winter, 988

The new family moved into the village in the dead of winter. It was the worst time to be starting over—everyone knew that—but fate is not always kind, and on some occasions, relocation, even when inconvenient, was necessary.

"Rebekah, you and I will go to greet the new family after morning chores are finished. I hear they have a daughter about your age." Esther smiled from her spot at one end of the breakfast table, her children gathered all around her.

"Yes, Mother." Rebekah nodded. It was her sixteenth winter of life, and she was hoping her father would soon allow her to marry. She was practically the old maid of the village, anyways, with all of her friends already wives and mothers.

"Take Elijah with you." Mikael said gruffly. "It would do to have someone to assess the man of the home. See what he is made of, son."

"As you wish, Father." Elijah nodded before rising from the table with his mother and sister, off to their morning visit.

Sometime later, the three had arrived at the home of the Petrov family, bearing a basket of food as a welcoming gift. The family seemed pleasant to get along with, though Ana Andonova was strangely evasive when she spoke of her infant son—a son she looked much too old to have born—who rested in a cradle in the main room. However, Elijah kept his observations to himself as he conversed with Petar Andonov, and Rebekah amused the baby. If only father would let her marry… It was not like his sister did not have her fair share of suitors. Then again, all of them, except for possibly Kol, who was approaching his nineteenth spring, were of the age to be settling down; still, Mikael denied even the thought of such things.

"Mama, I am back from your errands!" A lovely girl, who looked to be a year or so younger than Rebekah, floated in the door, a basket on her arm. She was boisterous, her cheeks flushed with color; so alive in the dreary days of winter. When she took notice of the visitors, she paused, setting the basket down on a bench and coming to stand behind her father. "I apologize, I was unaware we had visitors."

"This is my daughter, Tatia Petrova." Petar introduced. "Tatia, meet Esther Bjornsdottir, wife of Mikael, and their children, Elijah and Rebekah."

"It is a delight to meet you." Tatia curtseyed, as did Rebekah, her eyes meeting Elijah's.

"Your little brother is quite lovely." Rebekah smiled.

"Mmm?" Tatia broke their eye contact, giving her mother a look which Elijah did not understand. "Oh yes, Jamous is such a darling little brother."

"It is lovely to meet you, Tatia." Elijah smiled, taking the hand which she held out for him to kiss. She really was a woman unlike any he had ever seen before.

"Yes… I do believe it is lovely to meet you as well." Tatia smiled, an incomprehensible look in her eyes—one which Elijah only wished to discover. She was only a young woman, and yet such a puzzle.

-0-0-0-0-0-

"Katerina," Elijah started.

"Don't speak." She snapped, rising off of the floor, bringing one of the sketches with her. She was markedly shorter than him—more so than usual, at least—in the absence of her heels, and Katherine detested having to look up at him slightly, especially when she was royally irritated. "You know, I never realized how truly alike we appeared." She laughed bitterly, studying the drawing. "Of course, I knew we looked alike—Elena and I are identical, after all—but for five hundred years I was the only one with my face to walk this earth. And though I had heard of the Petrova doppelganger when I was searching for answers as to why I was the one chosen for your brother's damned sacrifice ritual, and not some other girl, I had this image of the first doppelganger in my head, and she did not look truly like me. Then I met Elena, so any possibility of physical differences were ruled out, but she has the personality that one of my sisters' possessed—that heart which is so big it's sickening—and so though we appear alike, I have never really considered her to be just. Like. Me." Katherine took a breath, rage flowing unchecked in her mind. "But Tatia…" She said the other woman's name as if it were a curse upon her lips. "She looks just like I did at fifteen years old, down to the expression. She carries herself the way I used to."

"She would have been sixteen when she died." Elijah said. He was unsure where Katerina was going with this, though clearly she was angry. However, what had possessed her to go snooping in his attic and digging through sealed boxes? He did not give permission for her to do so. Then again, he never forbade it either.

Katherine snapped her head up, the portrait of the long-dead girl with flowers in her hair fluttering to the ground at her feet. "Is that how you see me? As a shadow of your beautiful, beloved Tatia? The next to come along, and the closest in temperament? Is that what I am? Because I am not some prize to be won." Her voice grew more fuming with every question she asked her lover, yet otherwise, she maintained a perfect exterior.

"Katerina…" He warned her from going down this path, yet still… A part of Elijah was curious as to what she would say. How this affected her. She was a woman who spoke her mind, and yet never really expressed her true thoughts. They had something going on here, and, though it was selfish, Elijah was not going to stop her. He wanted—no, he needed to hear what she had to say about Tatia. Tatia had been like a wall between them for so long and now… Maybe things would be different.

Katherine let a smirk cross her lips as she spoke her next words. "Tell me, do you wish I was her? Would you prefer it was her in your bed at night, screaming your name?" She began to circle Elijah as she spoke. "She's very pretty, you know. We all are, of course, but she seems to be the most sheltered out of us, with her innocent doe eyes, and darling smile. I bet she had all the boys in the village after her. God knows I certainly did." Katherine laughed. She knew she was being cruel—oh so terribly cruel—but she meant to hit him where it hurt. Elijah was passive-aggressive on his best days, and she needed a reaction from him. A real reaction, not just some overly-formulated speech with flowery words. She needed affirmation that she was not a replacement, no matter how much she hated the desire. "I bet she told you how pure and untouched she was. How you were the only one for her, while she was fucking your brother behind your back. Or…were you the piece on the side? Tell me, did your strict moral code develop before or after you turned? It certainly did not manage to do me any good, I can tell you that."

Finally, she managed to arouse a reaction from him. "I had a plan in place to save you, Katerina. I was not going to let you die." Elijah scolded, though the reason why, he was not entirely sure of. Perhaps he felt the need to defend his younger self—his sometimes foolish younger self—against her harsh words. Maybe there were other reasons. But still, she was just speaking her mind; then again, brutal, unchecked, honesty was a concept they both were used to avoiding.

"And yet I saved myself. True, I was simply seeking death at the time, but I have saved myself time and time again." She retorted. "That's why you liked me so much back then, am I right? Because I could be a stand-in for the girl you failed to save. With my braided hair and wide smile, I was probably the image of your darling Tatia." Katherine laughed cruelly as she continued to circle him. "I probably would have let you under my skirts then, looking like her, if you had only asked, milord." She whispered the last word in Elijah's ear, before continuing. It was like the words were flowing out of her without ceasing; like she had so much to say, so much she had kept bottled up, and now she could do nothing more to contain the fountain. "After all, I was no virgin back then. For, unless you consider carrying and bearing a daughter, and promptly having that sweet babe ripped from your arms, to be a requirement of purity, I was nothing close to one." And there, she had done it. Katherine had revealed her biggest secret—the child she had never revealed to anyone else. "My father called me a filthy whore when I told him I was with child. I suppose he did not know it was my fate; that the women who bear this damned face are just doomed to be this way." She stopped in front of Elijah, trailing her fingers delicately down his arm, her voice barely a whisper. "Is that why you like me so much? Because I'm a filthy wh—"

"Katherine." He snapped, his tone severe. And, for once, she listened. He had never called her Katherine, preferring instead to use her given name. She stepped back, silent, waiting for him to make the next move. She had clearly pushed him beyond the breaking point. In a rage of anger and unresolved bitterness, it appeared she had accomplished the rarely seen: she unhinged Elijah Mikaelson.

Elijah had let her go throughout her entire speech. At first he had been irritated with her, and attempted to stop her and explain, but about a quarter of the way through, he realized Katerina was jealous. So, he simply let her continue. It was refreshing to hear what was actually on her mind for once, and not just the filtered version, not to mention she clearly needed to get whatever this was off her chest. He drew the line when she was about to call herself a whore, however, for she was anything but that. Now, at the end of her speech, he could not help but wonder what to do now that he had silenced her. He started to speak once, and then again, giving up both times. He could see the rage in her eyes—rage tinged with a hint of fear. She had revealed things to him that he assumed she had not told anyone before, just by her delivery. She had carried a child while only a child herself.

She considers herself to be a whore, he realized. The thought raced through his mind on repeat during the few seconds he kept her waiting for his response. And so, Elijah did the only thing he thought best: he kissed Katerina, his fingers tangling in those wild curls of hers. She fought him for control of the kiss, as she always did, but if they were going to do this, they were damn well going to do it his way. Katerina had said her piece, and now it was time to say his.

He moved her away from the mess on the floor and to the wall, where they were less likely to end up falling on the floor. Her little hums and whimpers as he made his way down her neck were satisfying, though the gasps and sighs which came out of his Katerina's mouth after he unbuttoned the front of the scraps of fabric she called a nightgown and slipped them off of her shoulders, kissing his way down, were much more gratifying. "Katerina," He whispered against her skin, punctuating every few kisses. "Katerina."

"Elijah." She breathed as she ran her hands down his head and neck, playing with the stiff fabric of his collar as he made his way down her body, playing her like that violin of his.

"Katerina." He pressed a kiss on the curve of one of her hipbones before moving lower. Over the course of her speech, Katerina had stripped herself emotionally bare. She exposed her wounds, revealed her grievances, and spat things at him that he was sure she had never explained to another person upon this earth. He wanted to heal her wounds. Let her truly know there was no other. Let her see that she did not have to plaster on her armor every morning, because he liked her either way. He liked the girl with the wiry grace and the wisdom beyond her years, and he liked the bold and bloody woman she had become. He liked her wildness, and enjoyed her control. Kissing her was an attempt to seal those cracks in her soul; to mend the jagged edges she had presented to him. If he could soothe her pain, he would do so.

Katherine met Elijah's eyes through half-opened lids, his touch and kiss branding her body as he, the great Original, was on his knees in front of her, respecting her, honoring her. It was an acknowledged fact that they were good in the bedroom together. Hell, half the things they did to each other were probably illegal in some countries, and Elijah had already had a door replaced because they…bypassed using the doorknob. But this… This was something different. This was reverent. Dare she say he was worshipping her? Each kiss Elijah placed on her body felt like a promise. Each time he whispered her name, it sounded like a vow. He was marking her as his. Acknowledging he was hers. Showing her there were no other women; that no ghosts clouded their bedchamber.

He knew who she was, fully and completely, something many had strived for, and none had achieved. Yet, here he was, handing the power to her. Katherine knew who he was; Elijah was a man who bowed to no one. He was unwavering and steadfast as the mountains, a man who possessed true power.

And here he was, on his knees before her.

AN: I really don't if I should say anything after that because, well... I want you all to digest the end of this chapter, and then I want your opinions on it! It's my favorite one in the whole story, and just... I'd love to discuss or debate it with you all!

Anyways, I'm so sorry for the late update. Spring Break starts tomorrow and my professors have been piling on all the work this week, and though this chapter was already finished, I literally did not even have fifteen minutes to update it.

I hope you all enjoyed what I consider to be the unraveling of Katherine Pierce, and I'd love to talk about it with you guys!

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

-Abi