Welcome to "A Man's Crown, A Woman's Glory!" This is the sequel to "A Father's Pride, A Mother's Joy," so if you haven't read that yet, I suggest you do that first as it will make all of this make much more sense. There's also a one shot part of this verse called "In My Memory, Her Joy Blinds Me," which isn't a necessary read but may give some insight to the reader as well.

Anyway! I am super excited for this story. I've got most of it mapped out already but left some room for my brain to do it's plot bunny thing. There are some twists and turns ahead for us all. *smirk* Please let me know your thoughts! I love getting people's reactions. They help keep me motivated.

Thank you to all of those of you that have followed me through the first installment and into this one. I really appreciate all of the love and support.

Happy reading!

I can safely say that I will never have a traditional family. The patchwork quilt of relations built on a foundation of choice grows ever larger, but over time it has become reinforced with ribbons of blood.

Many lifetimes ago, when I was still mortal, I left my roots behind, only to find myself in New Orleans long before is was much more than a French colony. As the years passed, I became attached to my benefactors...the Original Family, the Mikaelson's.

Rebekah was my sister, friend, and confidant.

"We girls must stick together."

Elijah challenged my mind and made me feel at home.

"Come now Julia. There is more to life in this family than cleaning up after us."

"Oh, so I am part of the family am I?"

"Marcellus has obviously chosen you, and he is part of us more than some of our blood relatives. You were right when you said choice was powerful."

Marcellus was my son.

"I wish to call you mother."

As long as I live, I don't think any other moment will compare with the love and feeling of completeness I felt in that moment. To know that this young boy trusted and loved me. To know that he looked to me for his needs...to learn and to grow. That first taste of maternal instinct only grew stronger over the years.

And then there was Niklaus. Klaus. The one I feared, respected, came to call friend. The one that I grew to love.

"We have found a home in New Orleans. And we have found a home in you. So thank you."

My chest constricts when I think of the last happy moment I spent with him.

"I'll see you later tonight," he said it like it was a promise.

But then Mikael came and everything fell apart.

"Marcellus."

"No, no!"

"Julia…"

"I'll come find you."

I never got the chance to go find him. Any of them. Marcellus had betrayed us. He had called the Destroyer to New Orleans and then chose to take the city for himself.

It was all exactly what Celeste Dubois wanted.

She had been Elijah's lover lifetimes ago. She knew of my abilities to see pieces of the future, so when she was killed, she blamed me for not helping her.

"You see and do nothing!"

Not one to be taken down easily, she found a way to survive. She found a way to come back and her first order of business was to tie me to the Mikaelson's family life time.

"You will live long enough to regret your loyalty to them."

Now, a couple hundred years later, I still don't regret that choice, although I have endured enough heartache to make me regret other things. I regret not going after the Mikaelson's in 1919, and yet at the same time...even that choice caused me to gain more. It enabled me to prepare for their return. It enabled me to pave a path back to the throne.

In my long life I have come to realize that the passage of time is not what makes you feel old. It is the passage of life.

"Jacque?"

He coughs, his form frail in the bed, his eyes sunken and his hair white with his years. "Julia…" he rasps as his hand twitches on the bed and I know he wishes for me to hold it. I take his hand in mine and the tears stinging my eyes fall one at a time. "Don't cry, M'lady."

I huff a watery laugh. From the night I met him, all those decades ago when he came for me at the compound that has since become the headquarters of Marcel's empire, he has called me "M'lady." Over the years it has become an endearment. "I'm not crying."

He smiles slightly. "You could never cry." He touches the ring that adorns my left hand. "Not for me."

I hold his hand tighter. "Do you doubt that I do in fact love you?"

"I know that you do. But I have never diluted myself to believe that you were ever in love with me." He takes a shaky breath. "And that's okay. I was in love with my Ida. And she was in love with me. Having a chance to love again was worth it. If for no other reason then Lana, it was worth it."

I smile sadly. "Rest Jacque."

"I will rest when I am dead." He looks up to the ceiling. "It won't be long now."

I swallow, knowing he's right and not wanting to protest with a half hearted lie.

His old eyes twinkle at me. "May the Queen rest in peace and put a good word in for me with the Devil."

I roll my eyes. "Whoever started that phrase will not be getting my recommendation."

His laugh turns to a cough.

"Alright Jacque," I say when it stops. "No more talk. Let's just sit together for awhile, Hmm?"

He nods and closes his eyes. I sit with him for a while longer before I hear the last exhale of air exit his body, and his skin turns cold.

No. The passage of time doesn't make me feel old. It's the passage of life.