Dawn mist hung over Stefan's private estate like a shroud.
The mansion - a secluded Victorian structure he had acquired - stood apart from the familiar Salvatore boarding house, offering privacy that his other residence could not.
It was around 7 AM in the morning. He had gotten out of bed with Elena very early- today being a busy day.
Klaus was going to soon declare himself King of the vampire species- and as his knight, Stefan needed to be ready.
Stefan stood motionless at the master bedroom window, watching as first light painted the grounds in hues of amber and gold.
His reflection stared back at him from the glass - composed, calculating, patient. In mere hours, Emir Barzani would arrive in Mystic Falls. The first of Klaus's noble guests required perfect preparation.
Below, he heard Mara moving through the house - her soft footsteps, the subtle clink of metal. She had arrived before sunrise, as instructed. Always punctual, always devoted.
Stefan descended the grand staircase.
He found Mara in the foyer, already dressed in training attire. Her pale complexion caught the early light filtering through high windows, accentuating her defined cheekbones and sharp feminine jawline.
She had pulled her long black wavy hair back, though a few thin braids remained framing her face. Her chocolate brown eyes, bright and intense, met his with immediate attention.
She did look extremely beautiful- he could not deny that.
"Basement's ready." she said, her voice direct. No unnecessary words - a quality Stefan appreciated.
He nodded once. "Then we begin."
The basement of the mansion bore little resemblance to the wine cellar it had once been.
Stefan had transformed it into a training facility - stone floors for stability, weapons lining the walls, lighting designed to create shadows and challenges.
A space where skills could be honed away from prying eyes.
Stefan selected two training swords from the eastern wall, testing their weight. He presented one to Mara, hilt first.
She accepted it with slight reluctance, her intense gaze questioning. "What's the point? My fangs and strength are better weapons than some piece of metal."
Stefan circled to the center of the room, sword held at a precise angle. "A sword extends your reach. Gives you options. Distance." His voice carried confidence. "And with your venom applied to the blade, even a scratch could fell vampires centuries your senior."
Mara's posture shifted, her slender figure adopting a fighting stance that betrayed her werewolf heritage - too aggressive, too direct.
"You're part of Klaus's army," Stefan continued, adjusting his position with elegant precision. "My sword, as you call yourself."
Something flickered across her features - a thought unspoken. She tightened her grip on the hilt.
"Witches can enchant objects," Stefan added, "not bodies. A properly enchanted blade in your hands? That's something even the oldest nobles haven't encountered."
Without warning, he moved. The training blade whispered through the air toward Mara's left side.
She parried instinctively, the impact jarring her arm. Steel met steel with a sharp ring that echoed through the basement.
"Too much tension in your wrist," Stefan observed, already circling again. "The sword should be treated as an extension, not a separate tool."
Mara adjusted her grip, her chocolate eyes narrowing in concentration. She advanced with the speed of a hybrid, blade slicing in a downward arc.
Stefan pivoted, torso rotating away as his weapon deflected hers at an angle that dispersed the force rather than meeting it directly. The movement was so fluid it appeared effortless.
"Your eyes betray your intentions," he noted, voice calm despite their exchange. "Looking where you'll strike before you move."
His next attack came as punctuation to his observation - three precise thrusts that drove Mara backward toward the wall.
She parried the first two, steel scraping against steel, but the third forced her to dodge sideways. Her shoulder collided with a weapons rack, sending a dagger clattering to the floor.
Without hesitation, she kicked the fallen blade toward Stefan's feet - an improvisation that earned a slight nod of approval.
"Better," he acknowledged. "Use your environment."
Mara used his momentary approval to launch forward, in a blur. Her blade became nearly invisible with speed, attacking from three angles rapidly.
Stefan met each strike, his movements not wasting energy compared to hers with how aggressive it is. The impacts vibrated up her arms, while he absorbed each shock with ease.
'Damn, it hurts,' she thought to herself with a bit of a wince, as their strikes continued to clash.
A thin sheen of sweat appeared on her pale forehead as she pressed her advantage, one of her dark braids coming loose with the violence of her movement. Stefan showed no signs of exertion, his breathing controlled, eyes calculating her losing stamina.
"You're relying too much on strength," he observed, deliberately lowering his guard on his left side.
Mara saw the opening and lunged, committing fully to what appeared to be a vulnerability.
Too late, she recognized the trap.
Stefan's blade wasn't there to meet her - instead, he stepped inside her attack, his free hand capturing her wrist. A twist of his body used her momentum against her, and suddenly her back was against his chest, his sword at her throat.
"Patience," he murmured, close to her ear. "Power without control is just wasted energy."
Mara herself was blushing, breathing heavily, feeling her body against his- internally, she couldn't help but wish that this could last.
He released her though soon after, and Mara stepped back, forcing herself to focus.
Her next approach was circling again, but with a plan.
She feinted high, then dropped low, blade angled upward in a thrust that nearly caught Stefan's ribs.
He smiled - the first genuine expression of the session - as he parried with a circular motion that sent vibrations through both blades. "Now you're thinking."
Their final exchange accelerated to them becoming blurs - Mara mixing her speed with Stefan's lessons on technique. Steel flashed in the basement's dim light, the sounds of combat becoming like music.
Stefan ended it decisively. He created distance, then threw his sword with perfect precision. It pinned Mara's sleeve to the wooden post behind her, immobilizing her without causing injury.
The sudden stillness after such intense movement left the air humming with tension. Mara's chest rose and fell rapidly while Stefan hadn't broken a sweat.
She knew, that if this was a real fight, Stefan could've ripped her heart out already.
"You're improving," he said, walking forward to retrieve his sword. "Next time, remember - to again, treat the weapon as an extension of yourself, not a separate entity."
Mara nodded, rubbing her wrist where the fabric had pulled tight. "Had enough?"
"For now," Stefan agreed, returning both swords to their places on the wall. "We should eat before preparing for Emir Barzani's arrival."
They ascended from the basement in comfortable silence.
--------------------------
In the kitchen, Stefan moved toward the refrigerator, but Mara stepped forward quickly.
"I'll do the cooking!" she stated, her tone leaving no room for debate.
Stefan raised an eyebrow. "You've already trained. You should rest."
"No way." Mara's voice softened slightly, but remained firm. "You train me, you lead us. I serve you. That's how it's supposed to be."
A moment of silence stretched between them - Stefan studying her determined expression, Mara refusing to yield. Finally, he inclined his head in acquiescence.
"As you wish."
Mara moved through the kitchen, gathering ingredients with the same focus she applied to combat. Stefan seated himself at the counter, observing her.
As she cracked eggs into a bowl, the familiar motion triggered a cascade of memories. Her mother standing beside her in their pack's territory, guiding her hands through the same movements. "The way to a husband's loyalty is through respect," her mother had said, "and respect is earned through strength, but maintained through service freely given."
The memory shifted - her arranged marriage's wedding day- a day she hated before it came, and became worse when it arrived. The ceremony interrupted by growls and snarls as a rival pack descended on their celebration.
Her white dress torn, her new husband's throat slit. The rival alpha cornering her in the forest, his hands tearing at her remaining clothes, his eyes filled with lust and triumph.
Then Stefan, appearing like an avenging angel, moonlight silvering his silhouette. The elegant arc of his sword, the alpha's head separating from his body in one clean stroke. Blood spraying across pine needles and her torn dress.
Stefan extending his hand to her, his eyes showing neither pity nor disgust - only a question.
An offer.
The memory dissolved as Mara poured beaten eggs into the heated pan, the sizzle bringing her back to the present.
She moved with renewed focus, preparing Stefan's favorite breakfast - omelet, warm bread, and tea.
When she placed the meal before him, "Thank you." he said with a geniune smile on his face.
They ate in companionable silence for several minutes, the only sounds the clink of silverware against plates and the occasional sip of tea.
Mara's eyes, however, never remained still. They studied Stefan carefully, noting the way he ate his food, how he drank his tea.
"Can I ask you something?" she finally said, breaking the silence.
Stefan nodded, setting down his fork with deliberate care.
"Why are you so different? Other vampires I've met were all useless. Indulgent. Arrogant. Never saw one train with weapons or show any discipline like you do."
His eyebrow raised slightly with a hint of amusement. "How many vampires have you known to find me unusual?"
A faint blush colored Mara's pale cheeks, but her gaze remained direct. "Enough. Hunted them with my father before. Killed my share too." She straightened in her chair. "All were indulgent. Arrogant. None trained with weapons or showed discipline like you do."
Stefan considered her question, taking a measured sip of tea before responding. "You're not wrong about many vampires, especially the young ones. They believe immortality makes them invincible, so they indulge every whim, every hunger."
He set down his cup. "But age brings wisdom - or should. The oldest vampires, the one Klaus has dubbed 'nobles', they understand something fundamental: there is always someone older. Always someone stronger."
"The ambitious ones, particularly those under five centuries - they're the most dangerous. They've lived long enough to recognize their limitations but not long enough to accept them. So they seek external power - witches, artifacts, alliances - anything to close the gap between what they are and what they wish to be."
Mara nodded curtly. "So they find other ways to power. Smart." Her intense brown eyes fixed on him. "Is that why Klaus wants these nobles here?"
"Partly," Stefan acknowledged. "But there's more to it than simply wanting resources."
Silence fell between them again as they continued eating. Mara seemed to be gathering courage for another question, her slender fingers tapping once against the table before stilling.
"Tyler and I..." she began, speaking more carefully. "We're both close to you. Both without sirebonds." Her gaze met his directly. "Not coincidence."
Stefan's expression remained neutral, neither confirming nor denying.
"Not that I'm complaining!" Mara added quickly. "I'm... grateful for freedom. Just..." a rare moment of vulnerability crossed her features, "...wanted you to know I notice things."
"Observation is a valuable skill," Stefan replied, his tone revealing nothing.
Mara studied him for another moment before asking, "Is that really all there is to it though? Power? Is that why you're the way you are?"
"Everyone wants power," Stefan said simply. "Anyone who says they don't is lying to themselves."
"That's really all to it?" Mara pressed.
Stefan turned the question back to her. "Do you think it is?"
She hesitated, then shook her head decisively. "No. Feels... incomplete." Her chocolate eyes studied him intently. "Something else drives you."
Stefan finished his food, then reached for the teapot. He poured himself another cup, adding exactly three sugar cubes. The spoon made a soft, rhythmic sound against the glass as he stirred.
"You're right," he admitted, voice quieter. "I... Haven't always been like this."
He glanced up at her. "You probably already have realised this- have overheard it, through my... occassional meetings with Rebekah when you're around."
His voice became a bit softer. "I... care. I care about the living. I care about the dead. About the innocents." He paused slightly. "That care... and the nature of a ripper... they don't reconcile easily."
"I've drowned in guilt for so long. But like anyone..." he looked directly at her, "...I didn't want the pain. I wanted happiness instead."
He fell silent for a long moment. He set down his spoon. "Tell me, Mara, what do you think are the sources of happiness and joy in people?"
The question caught her off guard. She thought carefully before answering.
"Safety... Food. Drink. Power. Authority..." She hesitated slightly. "Sex."
As she said "sex," her expression remained neutral while internally her thoughts wandered.
'Like how I want you to kiss me... To put me over this table, rip off my clothes and take me from behind. But no... that body, that heart of yours belongs only to one- to Elena.' The bitterness rose but she swallowed it down, maintaining her composed exterior.
"Those things," she finished firmly. "Make people happy."
Stefan nodded with a small smile. "Good answers. But you're missing one." He leaned forward slightly. "Knowledge."
Mara's brow furrowed. "Knowledge? How does simply knowing things make anyone happy?"
"Knowledge brings certainty. It is the destroyer of doubt." Stefan explained, his voice taking on an almost dream-like quality. "And doubt... doubt breeds fear in the hearts of men."
He continued, voice soft yet commanding. "The mind abhors uncertainty above all else, save perhaps physical pain. There exists in all people a profound desire to understand their world."
Stefan's expression animated slightly, becoming almost poetic. "Have you observed those with true curiosity? They study not merely for power or wealth - though these are worthy pursuits - but for the moment when understanding dawns."
A slight smile touched his lips. "That moment contains its own reward."
His gaze grew distant. "In my 145 years as a vampire, I sought to drown guilt in pleasure's embrace. I've indulged in countless women of remarkable beauty.
Possessed them, their bodies, their hearts, many simultaneously, rarely settling for only one women at a time. Read from thousands of books, traveled through landscapes from every continent."
He made an elegant gesture with his hand. "I sampled as much delight as I could of what this world offers - cultures, sports, weapons, arts. Each new experience was another stone to fill the void."
"So you tried to bury your guilt with pleasure." Mara observed, studying him with new understanding. "Smother the pain with it."
"A beautiful theory that failed in practice," Stefan admitted. "Pleasure, no matter how varied or intense, cannot truly negate pain. They exist in separate chambers of the soul."
"To truly overcome such darkness, one must-"
The grandfather clock in the hall chimed, drawing Stefan's attention. His expression transformed immediately, the philosopher vanishing behind the strategist's mask.
"The hour grows late," he stated, voice becoming clear and authoritative. "Our guest arrives at noon. We must ensure everything is in perfect order."
"Yes, sir," Mara responded, immediately alert. She rose and began gathering dishes with efficient movements.
As Stefan stood before the hallway mirror adjusting his appearance, Mara watched his transformation.
The man who had spoken so eloquently of pain and knowledge disappeared beneath the perfect facade of Klaus's right hand.
His features settled into calculated charm, eyes growing sharper, posture becoming more commanding.
"Ready?" Stefan asked, not looking back at her.
"Whenever you are." Mara answered, falling into step behind him - the sword following its master into battle.