A/N: This one shot is written for the Fanfiction .net Writers Unite challenge. The prompt is "cold." I altered the timeline a bit here and there to fit a certain character in. This story was created to tie into my prologue, All About Us series; see chapter 5 if you're interested.


Many millennia ago, he had been a very talented witch with an incredible knack for drawing powerful magic and unleashing them against his enemies.

Out of all his siblings, he was the only one who had loved the dark, thrilling rush it gave him whenever he drew the magic from the earth and used it to bend those weak, will-bodied souls into submission. Out of necessity and practicality; when the werewolves killed his youngest brother, he had been forcibly turned into a vampire, making them the original species that would ultimately create a legacy of bloodshed.

In exchange of the ability to conjure fiery balls of flames to terrify people, or even fling multiple foes with a single gesture, he gained immortality, compulsion, and that irresistible craving for human blood.

Alienated from the familiar pull of magic and the tingling feeling of his fingertips had never left him so cold. He discovered the vast differences between being a witch and a vampire; he had to do all the legwork as a vampire. Instead of snapping his fingers to conjure a fire ball, he had to physically strike a match against friction in order to produce a tiny, pathetic flame. Instead of using telekinesis to send people flying, he had to grab his foes and fling them away with his new found strength. On the contrary of possessing the ability to hex people on a whim, he had discovered compelling them to do his bidding was far more entertaining; it was far more fun to watch them humiliate themselves by their own hand. He would watch them destroy each other until there would be nothing but large pools of blood and missing limbs. However, hexes were far more tasteful as the parameters of the hex would only alter a person's behavior.

He wasn't the loyal, obedient son who did what his parents demanded. He wasn't the noble brother who lived by a code of honor and morality, who tried to see good in everyone; including his bastard brother. He certainly wasn't the brother who was bullied constantly by their father who was always calling him a worthless, weak coward. His older brother who chased for his father's approval at every opportunity and received insults in return. He was not like his sister who was a hopeless romantic and would swoon for every man who weaved sweet words. He was unpredictable, cheeky, mischievous, wicked, confident, and probably the most dangerous one out of them all.

He was the third youngest sibling and yet he was alienated by his brothers and sister. He had never been part of the adventurous trio who traveled and explored new continents together. They had always left him in the cold. Over protective Elijah had chosen his bastard brother over him. Sweet, naive Bekah cared more for them both, never paying him any attention unless they were busy gallivanting, caught up in their own adventures. Even then, he was never the apple of her eye. She only had eyes for Klaus and Elijah, perhaps because they had always pampered her every whim or sudden fancy. He had been daggered once by Klaus, restrained by Elijah when he had gone too far, having attracted the attention of his father.

Longing for the power of magic he had been born with, he turned to mayhem and violence in hopes they would compensate for what he'd lost. He never thought Elijah would agree with Klaus to subdue him and stash him in a coffin for a century or so. Like a rag doll, he had been discarded and rejected until they grown bored of normalcy.

It was only due to chance, that he had run into her that one lone evening. He had first spied her beautiful mass of intricate brunette curls hiding her face, her hips sashaying as she walked through the streets in Venice. He had felt compelled to follow her, thinking she would make the perfect meal for a late night snack. But as he starts to focus his senses on the beautiful woman, he realized that she was no ordinary human.

She was that infamous doppelganger who had stood up to Klaus and then turned into a vampire. Initially, he had kept his distance and observed her movements from afar. He'd sent his minions to watch her when he could not.

Over the years, he learned she was no coward like Klaus, choosing not to gain anyone's approval. Unlike Rebekah, she wasn't dependent to anyone. Unlike Elijah, she was intelligent and played mind games, refusing to live by any code. She was only loyal to herself. He had never been so intrigued by something until he came across this young vampire.

One night, he returned to the location where he had had a pre arranged meeting with one of his informants sent to track her whereabouts. He found the minion beheaded under the dim moonlight that illuminated the quiet, empty street. Before he could react, he had been shoved rudely into the wall, held in place by her smooth palm with perfectly manicured sharp long nails.

She demanded to know who he was and who he was working for. He told her his name and she had tilted her head in confusion, stating she had never heard of him before. Truth be told, he had been mildly annoyed of his brothers sticking him in a coffin for so long. He told her of a proposal that would benefit them both. She was wary of the conditions at first but nevertheless accepted it after considering it for awhile.

He had never once told Klaus nor Elijah that he had discovered their precious Katerina hiding in the serene city of Venice. He kept in touch with her over the years, sending letters of fore warning, thus giving her plenty of time to relocate.

The times he spent with her may have be brief and in secret, as his brother had started to grow more grew paranoid of their father. The many spies scattered across every country, on the lookout for the doppelganger and Mikael, had increased over the course of the years, so they had to be more cautious. He felt less lonely when she sometimes accompanied him in his travels. The cold becomes less unbearable, and the icy wall encasing his heart began to thaw against her wild passionate love of unyielding Petrova fire. They had become allies due to a common enemy.

She had good taste in fashion, always keeping up with the latest trends. She had shrewdly blended in with the common people and he admired her and her voluptuous curves; every dress he'd sent fitted her like a charm. They caused mayhem together; with him misdirecting his siblings' attention and her devious resourcefulness and multiple schemes, keeping their secret activities from gaining too much exposure. What a fine pair they made.

His overconfidence nearly got them caught when he had snuck her onto a cruise without her knowledge that he owned the ship and that she was to be his birthday present. When Elijah had interrupted their passionate love making, he had been so terrified of the horrible outcome he would be daggered once again for disobedience and she would have been executed by Klaus himself. But his brother had been too distracted by their youngest, wayward sister to notice dear Katerina pinned underneath.

As an apology for not anticipating the unexpected, he made it up to her by telling her of a small estate located in Paris under his name. There, she would find new company that had been expecting her arrival. It was the last moment they shared in the confines of his room before she left for Paris and him back to New Orleans.

He had started to feel warm once more but the cold lingered, clinging onto the belief that should Klaus grow annoyed with him, he would be once again be daggered and locked in a box.

Thus, he sought preventive measures by allying himself with the witches. He offered them protection, in return they would create curse objects with his expansive knowledge of shaman magic and modern science. But it wasn't enough. He had no trusted allies he could count on, that dared to defy his terrifying control- freak, vindictive brother.

The cold gradually seeped back in, freezing his heart in endless torment, at the moment Marcel; the boot licking former slave had been so grateful for Klaus taking him in, revealed his plan to rob the paragon diamond which was a medium that would allow the witches to channel magic from. He could only watch helplessly as they took everything from him. His bastard brother had had his own witch trapped his ally witches inside a mansion forever.

White hot rage overcame him, and he lashed out blindly then controlled distilled anger towards Klaus giving his affections to his sire; bitterness towards his siblings for constantly rejecting him; disappointed in their actions to use the dagger on their own; and then, there was numbness. By the end of the night, all he could really feel was the familiar feeling of cold returning and melding him into a second outer shell of armor.

Out of all his family, he never expected to be betrayed by sweet, caring Rebekah. He would never see the light of the day as the feeling of the cold silver dagger pierced his cold unbeating heart and his world swam into the darkness.


He lay in the dark, sleeping, waiting for the fateful day to come when he would feel the dagger being pulled from his chest.

As his conscious mind swims up and away from the dark abyss that had trapped him and robbed him of stolen centuries, he wakes up to find himself staring at her with a crafty smirk wide on her lips.

His voice feels rusty from years of disused but he knows she can hear him quite clearly. "Katerina, it's been too long."

She smiles and caresses his cheek in reply. Seeing her once more made him whole and warm.

The cold feeling that had plagued him since he last saw her had started to dissipate with just her presence.

Fin~