K&R
The first time he sees her is in a sunlight meadow of galloping horses. Already, he feels ridiculous. But Kol smirks. It is his way, after all.
"Kol Mikaelson," he says, bringing her hand to his lips, and discreetly inhaling. She is as lovely and exquisite as she had seemed from where he had first sighted her. Long flowing brown hair, and an untidy purple frock, a pleasantly dirt-smudged face.
"I'm Rosemarie," the girl says, frowning warily. Her eyes are gentle, with a fiery glow that makes him believe she would chase him across the ends of the earth to rip him apart if he broke her. That is good.
"Well, Rosemarie, do tell me; where exactly am I?" he asks pleasantly. He's been running so far and fast, trying to escape Nik's wrath, he has lost sight of where he is.
"Don't you know?" she asks suspiciously. She has taken a step back, and he smiles. He can still smell her blood, feel her heart beating, and hear her trembling.
"Why would I ask if I didn't know?" Kol quirks his eyebrows.
She frowns, and counters, "Why would you be here if you didn't know?"
He shrugs, "Fair enough. What's your favourite flower?" He sees little point to being questioned by this girl. And he wishes to unnerve her, as best he can. It's a challenge, after all, and he does enjoy a challenge.
Rosemarie rolls her eyes. He finds her almost as charming as he finds himself. "I'll tell you right now, you're crazy." Her matter of fact tone is clearly meant as an insult. "And it certainly isn't a rose, I'm not that simple." Kol can believe that. She isn't the delicate beauty she seems, but a girl capable of holding her own with him. And he is no rose.
"I believe you. I'm a tulip man, myself." Winking at her, he finds himself pleased by her answer. She is intriguing, a little wild, and unpredictable. He ignores her accusation of insanity. It's true enough, after all. "But allow me the pleasure of picking you a dainty daffodil?" he offers, glancing around for the plant in question. The ground seems barren, plain. It's empty of flowers. He thinks back to a time when his sister wore them in her hair. He picked them for her, and argued with Niklaus over who would give them to her. Rebekah had always been something for them to contest over – and now, look who had won? Not him. Not Kol.
"I've had enough of you." she states rudely. He can still feel her fear, but the act she is putting on is convincing. Her eyes are cold as she watches him with a look of disdain. He isn't unaccustomed to such glares. He tries not to remember Rebekah once again. This girl is not his sister. She is not. He does not want her to be. Kol watches as she leaps onto the back of one of her horse, bareback. He hardly finds it impressive, despite how gracefully she manages it considering Rosemarie is human. Delightfully so. But he does find it attractive, the way she smirks at him, as if expecting she has one upped him. "By all means, join me." Rosemarie challenges, acknowledging one of her other horses. Presumably she owned them, at least.
Not that he would be opposed to stealing them for her.
Does she think he will refuse? Does she hope he will?
"Why, thank you, my girl. Can't say I wouldn't love to." Smirking in return, he clambers aboard the nearest horse, feeling comforted by the familiarity of it all. Kol had done this so often in his human life, accompanied by his brothers, his Bekah. Niklaus' Bekah. His family, when they had been a family still. Of course, that time was no longer.
The surprised look on Rosemarie's face cheered him. Clearly she was unnerved by his company. How disappointing. If only he could muster the spirit to care. For the first time in days, he was enjoying himself.
He decides to break her. After all, how else will he know she cares?
K&R
Kol spends time in Rosemarie's village. He learns to call her Rose. He learns that feeding on the drunkards will bring no unwanted attention. He learns she likes sunflowers.
"Why are you still here?" she asks, as they harvest apples in the spring. Her hair shines like golden pieces of the sun. He's being overly romantic. He doesn't like so many words. Her hair is pretty.
"I don't know." Kol replies, because he doesn't. Maybe he never has known, never will. "Do you?"
Rose considers, "Maybe you were lonely." she offers, a finger upon her lips. It surprises him that she cares to figure him out. "I think you were hurt. Maybe you need company."
"Maybe I need you." he says quietly, aware of his own stupidity. He doesn't need her. He needs blood.
He learns that he is a romantic sap, and he brightens at her smile.
One day, she brings him a rose. It is accompanied by the whispers of uneasiness. He shouldn't be here. They will find him.
"Are they your favourite flower yet?" she teases, holding out her hand. Taking it, he questions his own existence. She isn't Rebekah, but he doesn't want to let go.
He remembers he is a vampire by tearing his teeth through her brother's flesh.
Rose is horrified. Kol is not. He has let go.
"What did you do?" she shrieks, hysterical, "What did you do to him?"
He laughs a devil's laugh, smiles like he is burning in hell – perhaps he is. Perhaps he will be. At least he will meet his family there. "I did what I wanted. I did what I'm going to do to you."
She runs and he lets her. But she can't leave without giving him last words, like she always does. What he loves her for is this, the refusal to stand on his terms.
"I don't understand you, Kol."
He leaves her village behind. But the words never leave his thoughts.
I don't understand you, Kol.
No, he thinks, I just didn't want you to.
K&R
He returns a year later, hardened and resolved. He will find her and he will bleed her dry. He has had enough of missing her laughter. It has been a lonely year, and he will have lonelier still. Kol has noticed that his thoughts disconnect and he fears madness has overtaken him. He fears it is the madness he saw in Niklaus, the madness that infects Rebekah, the madness Elijah struggles to overcome. The insanity of inhumanity. It has a ring to it, at the very least.
As he searches for that coppery glow that he used to look for every morning, he bites his lip. No blood is drawn; he never bleeds. No longer. He has often wondered about his blood. Being a vampire, it's rather natural, of course. But he cannot stop himself from musing about, late at nights ( or early morning; what is time, to him? What is time to a man – a creature – that never ages?) where all of his blood went. Does it still gush in his veins, hidden from him?
It must.
He scratches his head, eyeing the village over. They seem to not recognise him. Not yet, at least.
Do his siblings ever think on it, wonder as he does, if they are still sewn of flesh and blood? If they are still the bodies they were as children – the scar on the back of Elijah's neck, etched almost lovingly by a fallen branch from their secret hideaway in the trees. Or even Niklaus' bruised body – not so lovingly carved, but every brutal mark tied the siblings together, their anger and fear. Rebekah's small hands, always so cold – it had always taken a brother to hug them together and put some warmth back into her smile.
No more. Now they were strong. Fierce. Invulnerable.
Broken.
He spots his Rose. She is like them. So seemingly invincible, so fragile on the inside. Yet, her humanity shines through. Lovely.
She should be like them. And as he smiles his wicked grin, he realises that this is another of what Elijah used to call his 'dangerous moments'. The time when he gets an idea – brilliant, of course. But deadly. An impulse, he is not so different from his brother after all. Maybe they are the same. Maybe he can never be detached, not truly. That is what Kol strives for, detachment. He does not want to miss Niklaus' scars. He wants to save himself from being scarred, as he knows Klaus will do, if Kol is not careful.
If she was Rebekah, he would tug her hair or put his hands over her eyes. Kol would smile, even if it did not reach his eyes. He would hope for a welcoming light to her eyes. But she is not Rebekah and Rebekah is not human.
And he remembers that his purpose was to kill her. Somehow, the other option is infinitely more attractive. Forever is a long time, and he needs his own 'always'. After all, as Klaus has no problems reminding him of, he is not a part of their vow. He is not family.
Kol is Kol. And Rose is not Rebekah. But she could be immortal. Delightfully so.
This has been in my head since we first found out about the whole Original sire line. I finally wrote it out and deliberated and umm and ahhhed until I thought I may as well post it. Let me know if I should continue, pretty please, it'd probably be a threeshot at longest.