The first few years were a relentless education in immortality. The constant thirst was a fire that had to be managed, the heightened senses a storm of input that required conscious effort to filter. Moving faster than sight, hearing heartbeats from miles away, the overwhelming scent of blood – it was exhilarating, terrifying, and exhausting all at once. They learned to hunt with brutal efficiency, adapting their human skills to their new capabilities. Luãn, with his disciplined training under Mikael and his future knowledge, excelled. His tracking was unparalleled, his aim with a thrown knife or improvised weapon deadly accurate at impossible speeds.
They moved constantly, a family of unnatural predators seeking refuge and sustenance. From Norway, they traveled south, through forests and across plains, skirting human settlements, feeding only when necessary, usually on animals, sometimes on humans who wouldn't be missed – bandits, travelers foolish enough to venture alone. The memory of the village's fear, the taste of the cattle, was a stark lesson in the consequences of their nature.
Luãn pushed his vampiric abilities further than his siblings initially. He practiced his speed until the world was a blur, his strength until trees splintered under his touch. He found that focusing his senses, filtering the noise, was less about effort and more about a strange, almost intuitive command over the input, like turning a dial in his mind.
He noticed other things too. Moments when his speed felt more than just vampiric, bursts of movement that startled even Elijah or Mikael. Times when a wound seemed to close fractionally faster than his siblings'. An inexplicable sense of direction, a pull towards certain paths or places in the wilderness that wasn't just instinct or tracking skill. A feeling of… connection to the earth, to the plants and animals, that went beyond his amplified senses.
Once, cornered by a large bear while hunting, his vampiric strength wasn't quite enough to throw it off quickly. In a surge of desperate adrenaline and something else, the bear was suddenly and violently repelled, thrown backward with a force that snapped trees. Luãn stood panting, his arm stinging, looking at the stunned animal, then back at his hand. 'What… was that?' It wasn't a punch, wasn't physical contact that threw it. It felt like… a wave of force from him.
He didn't understand it. His knowledge from the show covered vampires, hybrids, witches, werewolves. Not… this. 'Okay, maybe the truck hitting me added some random cosmic energy? Or maybe Luãn's original lineage wasn't just 'orphan in the woods'? Demigod? Like Percy Jackson demigod? Or Legacies demigod?' The thought was so out there, so utterly ridiculous in this brutal, medieval world, that it felt almost like a joke. But the strange occurrences continued, subtle enough to dismiss as vampire abilities or luck, but frequent enough to make him question. He kept it to himself, filing it away as 'unknown power source – investigate later'.
His siblings adapted to their new existence in different ways. Finn became more withdrawn, burdened by the unnaturalness of their state. Elijah embraced the semblance of honor and control, striving for discipline in their feeding and actions, becoming the noble brother Luãn knew. Kol reveled in the power, the ability to charm and manipulate, finding twisted joy in their predatory nature. Rebekah struggled the most, yearning for the simple human life she'd lost, clinging to her family for security. Klaus remained complex – displaying bursts of the hunter Mikael admired, but also indulging his artistic side, carving and drawing in secret, and developing a deep-seated resentment for their Father.
Luãn's relationships with them solidified. He was the quiet observer, the one who often spoke with dry wit or practical advice derived from his future perspective, subtly guiding conversations or actions. He maintained his protective stance towards Rebekah, teaching her how to defend herself with vampire speed and strength, listening patiently to her laments.
"It's not fair, Luãn," she cried one night, sitting by a hidden waterfall, watching the moonlight filter through the trees. "We can never have children. We can never grow old together like humans do. We're just… monsters, destined to be alone."
Luãn sat beside her, skipping a flat stone across the water with effortless speed. "Monsters is just a word, Rebekah. What matters is what we do. We are family. And as long as we have each other, we are not alone." He looked at her, his expression softer than usual. "And who knows what the future holds? Perhaps the impossible is simply the improbable waiting to happen." A bit too cryptic, maybe, but the sentiment was genuine. 'If only she knew about Hope…'
He and Elijah became sparring partners, pushing each other to higher levels of combat. Luãn learned to channel his speed into fluid attacks, Elijah adapted his graceful movements into lethal precision. There was a mutual respect, an understanding that went beyond words.
Kol remained the source of most of the 'goofy' interactions. Luãn would sometimes try to explain concepts that made no sense in their time, just to see Kol's baffled reaction.
"So, imagine a box," Luãn started one evening, demonstrating with his hands, "that sits in your home, and it has tiny people inside who sing and tell stories. And you can change them with a stick!"
Kol stared at him, then burst into laughter. "Singing people in a box? And a magic stick? You hit your head harder than we thought when you fell off that cliff, brother!"
"It's called a 'television', Kol," Luãn said, shaking his head with a smirk. "Trust me. It's a thing. Or it will be. Eventually."
"Oh, centuries from now, Luãn will be living in a box with tiny singing people," Kol mocked, making exaggerated facial expressions. "Truly, immortality has dulled his mind."
'Joke's on you, Kol. It's awesome,' Luãn thought, kicking a loose stone with enough force to send it hurtling through the trees. 'Though explaining Netflix might take a while.'
Klaus remained the most volatile. Luãn saw the increasing strain between him and Mikael. Mikael's relentless criticism, his favoritism towards Elijah, his disdain for Klaus's creative pursuits – it was a toxic brew. Luãn tried, subtly, to mitigate it, to draw Klaus into hunting and training, validating his skills there, showing interest in his carvings, fostering the earlier camaraderie. But the rift was growing.
Years turned into decades. The world changed slowly. They saw empires rise and fall, languages shift, technology advance (though glacially by Luãn's standards). They encountered other supernatural creatures – distant witch covens who sensed Esther's power, scattered werewolf packs who instinctively recoiled from their vampiric might, though Luãn always watched the wolves with particular intensity, knowing their connection to Klaus.
The prejudice they faced evolved. From the simple fear of villagers, it became the suspicion of local authorities, the hunt by vampire hunters (though these were clumsy and ill-equipped compared to their future counterparts), the wary distance kept by those who sensed their 'otherness'. Luãn navigated this with a mix of Elijah's diplomacy and his own calculated displays of controlled power. He learned to blend in, to adapt, to use compulsion (a power that came naturally to him, frighteningly so) when necessary, but preferring not to rely on it too heavily.
The tension within the family escalated alongside their outward struggles. Esther became more fearful, obsessed with maintaining their existence, using her magic to track them, to sense threats. Mikael became more rigid, more controlling, his focus narrowing to their survival and strength above all else, his relationship with Klaus deteriorating into outright hostility.
Then came the night Luãn had dreaded, the night he knew would change everything. They were residing near a small human settlement, keeping a low profile, feeding discreetly. Mikael had sent Klaus out on a difficult hunt, deliberately setting him up for failure in Luãn's opinion. Klaus, frustrated and fueled by resentment, returned late, empty-handed, and stormed off into the night after a furious argument with Mikael.
Luãn had a bad feeling. He remembered the canon. Klaus triggered his curse by killing a human. Usually accidental or in rage. 'Oh no. Is tonight the night?'
He left the camp, using his speed and tracking skills honed over centuries to follow Klaus's scent. Elijah joined him, sensing his urgency.
They found him on the outskirts of the settlement. Klaus stood over a body. A human body. A man from the village, clearly killed violently. Klaus's face was pale, his eyes wide with shock and horror, not just at the death, but at what was happening to him.
As Luãn and Elijah arrived, Klaus's body began to convulse. Bones snapped and shifted with sickening speed. Fur sprouted from his skin. His form warped and twisted. The first transformation. Painful, brutal, and undeniable.
He wasn't just a vampire anymore. He was a hybrid.
The air crackled with energy, a primal magic ripping through the night. Luãn felt the familiar hum within him respond to the raw power of Klaus's transformation, intensifying for a moment before settling back down.
Klaus, halfway between man and wolf, roared, a sound of agony and confusion.
Mikael and the others arrived then, drawn by the commotion. Mikael's eyes widened in disbelief, then narrowed into a terrifying fury. Esther gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Kol and Rebekah stared, horrified. Finn recoiled.
"What... what is this?" Mikael snarled, his voice low and lethal.
Klaus, partially shifted, whimpered, looking at Esther. "Mother... help me!"
Esther's face crumpled, grief and horror twisting her features. She looked at Klaus, then at Mikael, understanding dawning in her eyes – an understanding Luãn knew involved the truth of Klaus's paternity.
"He is... he is one of them," Mikael roared, pointing at the transforming Klaus, the realization of his wife's infidelity tied to this monstrous change driving him to madness. "A beast! My son is a beast!"
He lunged towards Klaus, pure, unadulterated rage in his eyes.
"No!" Esther cried, stepping between them, holding up her hands. "Mikael, stop! He is still our son!"
Mikael hesitated, momentarily stunned by Esther's defense of Klaus.
In the chaos, Luãn watched, his mind racing. 'It's happening. The trigger. The hybrid reveal. Mikael's fury. Esther's desperation.' He knew what came next in the canon timeline. Esther would bind Klaus's werewolf side, using her magic to suppress it, making him just a vampire again, preventing Mikael from learning the full truth, creating the curse that would plague Klaus for a thousand years. And Klaus, when he found out, would kill her.
He looked at Klaus, still writhing, the monstrous transformation incomplete. He saw the fear in his eyes, the raw pain. He saw the rage in Mikael's, the betrayal. He saw the desperate love and fear in Esther's.
'I can't stop the trigger,' Luãn thought. 'It's canon. It's necessary for Klaus's arc. I can't stop Esther from binding him; that's the origin of the curse. But… does she have to die? Can I prevent that?' His goal of being the strongest felt secondary in this moment to the unfolding tragedy of his family. He had genuinely come to care for these flawed, dangerous people.
Mikael, seeing Klaus's agony and transformation, turned his fury back on the source. "This is your doing, Esther! Your dark magic! What have you done?!"
Esther flinched back. "I sought only to protect them! From sickness, from wolves! I made them strong!"
"You made them unnatural! Abominations!" Mikael roared. He looked at Klaus, his son turned monster. The rage solidified into a cold, terrible purpose. "This must be undone."
Esther knew what he meant. The White Oak stake. He would kill Klaus.
"No!" Esther cried, her eyes wide with horror. She turned to Klaus, a desperate resolve hardening her gaze. "I will protect you, Niklaus! I will bind this curse! Lock away this beast!"
She began chanting, her hands outstretched towards Klaus, power radiating from her. Klaus stiffened, the shifting slowing, then reversing, fur receding, bones snapping back into place with agonizing speed. He fell, human-looking again, but still weak, vulnerable. The hybrid side was locked away.
Mikael watched, his rage momentarily thwarted by the magic. He turned his terrifying gaze on Esther. "You chose him. This… thing… over your family. Over me."
Fear, profound and absolute, flickered in Esther's eyes as she saw the look on Mikael's face. She had just condemned herself.
Luãn knew this moment. The turning point. Klaus, humiliated and terrified by his transformation and subsequent binding, would be told by Mikael (or realize) the truth of his parentage and the reason for his difference. In a fit of rage and betrayal, he would lash out at the one person who held the secret and the power to undo it – his mother.
He looked at Klaus, who was slowly recovering, looking at Esther with a mixture of pain, confusion, and something dark beginning to stir. He looked at Mikael, radiating pure, lethal hatred. He looked at Esther, her face a mask of fear and regret.
'This is it,' Luãn thought, the dread settling deep in his gut. 'Esther's death. The start of the hunt.' He couldn't intervene without potentially changing too much, revealing his knowledge. He was strong, yes, but could he stop Mikael's rage? Could he stop Klaus's inevitable reaction? Not without a direct, violent confrontation, maybe exposing his own unique nature prematurely. His goal was power, survival, protection. But sometimes, surviving meant letting the inevitable play out, however horrific.
He saw the decision form in Klaus's eyes as the truth hit him – the shame, the betrayal, the raw pain turning into incandescent fury. Klaus lunged, not at Mikael, but at Esther.
Before anyone could fully react, before Luãn could even decide if he could interfere without catastrophic consequences, Klaus was upon his mother.
Esther's POV:
The binding spell was done. The curse was locked within Niklaus. He was safe. For now. Safe from Mikael's wrath, safe from the exposure of his true nature to the world. But the cost... the cost was heavy. I felt the magic resonate, a chain forged not of iron, but of blood and regret, binding my son to a lesser form of what he could be.
I looked at Niklaus, my child, my beautiful, damaged boy. The fear in his eyes was slowly being replaced by something else. Comprehension. And as he looked at Mikael, then back at me, I saw the truth dawn. The shame, the secret, the lie I had lived for centuries to protect him, now laid bare by his very existence.
And then I saw the fury. Raw, incandescent, directed at me. The pain of his transformation, the humiliation of his binding, the shock of his paternity – it all coalesced into a single, terrifying expression.
He saw me not as his mother, but as the architect of his suffering, the keeper of a shameful secret, the one with the power to both create and imprison his true self.
Mikael's rage was terrifying, but I had faced it before. Niklaus's rage... this was new. Uncontrolled. Fueled by something primal and broken.
He moved towards me. My other children were scattered, stunned, frozen by the horror of the revelation. Mikael was consumed by his own wrath. There was no shield. No defense.
I looked at my children, one last time. Finn, always obedient, always distant. Elijah, my noble, burdened son. Rebekah, my hopeful, vulnerable girl. Kol, my wild, unpredictable child. Niklaus, my hybrid, my secret, my doomed boy. And Luãn... my adopted son. The quiet one. The observant one. He watched me now, his eyes holding a depth of understanding I had never truly grasped. A strange solemnity that felt older than his years. Did he know? Know what I had done? Know what was coming?
A flash of regret pierced through me. I had made them strong. Immortal. But at what cost? Had I truly saved them, or merely condemned them to an eternity of pain and conflict?
Niklaus was upon me. His face was a mask of betrayal and agony. His fangs were bared, not with hunger, but with rage.
My final thought was of my children. All of them. The desperate love I felt for them, the fear for their future. And a chilling certainty: what I had done tonight would echo through the ages, a curse not just on Niklaus, but on our entire family.
He struck.
Luãn's POV:
Klaus killed her. It was swift, brutal, and horrifyingly efficient. One moment Esther was standing there, facing her son, the next her body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, her neck torn open.
Silence fell, broken only by Mikael's choked gasp of disbelief and then a roar that shook the very trees.
"ESTHER!"
Klaus stood over his mother's body, his chest heaving, the initial surge of rage already replaced by a dawning horror and regret.
Mikael's grief was a monstrous thing. It twisted his face, contorted his body, and erupted into a tsunami of pure, undiluted fury directed solely at Klaus.
"You! You killed her!" Mikael bellowed, his eyes blazing with murderous intent. "My wife! Your mother! You have doomed us all!"
He lunged at Klaus, no longer seeing his son, but the beast who had taken his wife.
Luãn reacted instantly, not with strength or speed, but with a desperate, human-like shout. "Niklaus! Run!"
Klaus, stunned and terrified, didn't hesitate. He blurred away into the darkness of the forest, fleeing his enraged father.
Mikael, thwarted, turned his terrifying gaze on the remaining siblings. Finn recoiled. Elijah, ever the protector, subtly positioned himself between Mikael and Rebekah. Kol looked pale and shaken. Luãn stood his ground, meeting Mikael's eyes, projecting nothing but a grim determination.
"He is gone," Mikael snarled, his voice raw with grief and rage. "He is a monster. And I will hunt him. Forever. Until he is dead by my hand." He looked at the rest of them. "You. You aided him. You stood by! You are complicit!"
The accusation hung heavy in the air. Complicit in Klaus's life, in his transformation, in the events leading to Esther's death.
"We are family, Father!" Elijah said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hand.
"Family is dead!" Mikael roared. "My wife is dead! My son is a monster! There is no family! There is only the hunt!" He turned, his eyes scanning the forest in the direction Klaus had fled. "Find him! Or I will consider you enemies too!"
And with that, Mikael blurred away, a force of nature unleashed, consumed by his single-minded vengeance. The Destroyer had begun his thousand-year hunt.
The remaining siblings stood in stunned silence around Esther's body. Rebekah began to sob, collapsing to her knees. Kol stared into the darkness. Finn looked lost. Elijah knelt beside Esther, his face etched with sorrow.
Luãn walked slowly towards them. The raw grief and shock were palpable. Their mother, the one who had given them immortal life, was dead by their brother's hand. Their father, the one who had sworn to protect them, was now hunting one of them. The family was shattered.
'This is it,' Luãn thought, the weight of centuries of canon history pressing down on him. 'The beginning of the endless running. The fragmentation. The 'Always and Forever' broken before it even truly began.'
He knelt beside Rebekah, putting an arm around her shaking shoulders. He looked at Elijah, their eyes meeting in shared grief and grim understanding. He looked at Kol, his earlier bravado gone, replaced by a look of fear and loss.
They were alone now, in a world they were still learning to navigate, with their father the greatest threat and their brother a fugitive.
He felt the familiar hum within him, a quiet reassurance of his own unique power, distinct from the vampirism, a strength Mikael didn't possess, Klaus couldn't bind. His goal hadn't changed. He needed to be the strongest. Now, more than ever. Not just for himself, but because his family, broken as it was, was now facing a threat that would pursue them across continents, across centuries.
He looked back at the dark forest where Mikael and Klaus had disappeared. The thousand years of running, the betrayals, the attempts to find peace, the constant battle for survival – it all started tonight.
He stood up, pulling Rebekah gently with him. "We cannot stay here," he said, his voice quiet but firm, echoing Mikael's earlier pragmatism, a grim necessity overriding their grief. "Mikael will return. He will hunt us too, if we stand in his way."
Elijah nodded, his jaw tight. "He is right. We must move. Separate. For now."
Separate. The very word was a betrayal of the vow they would one day speak. 'Always and Forever.' Broken.
Luãn looked at his siblings, vampires now, immortal, powerful, but fundamentally broken. His family. The ones he needed to protect. The ones he needed to surpass.
The true test had begun.