Hello! So, I started this story because I felt that in the ENTIRE ploy of resurrecting and all that, they never actually brought Henrik into the show. And don't you think that' unfair? That poor, poor kid...

Anyways, yes. Thank you anyone who clicked on this story, I appreciate it. Really, I got the inspiration for this from the many fics (or whichever actually feature Henrik) that are scattered around the Internet, including 'The Rising Son' which is here on ffnet. Very nice plot. Umm, yeah. I'll leave the longer bit of A/N to the end of the chapter so you can read. And so I won't bore you to death.

Just to make it clear, I do not have a beta. I don't even know how to get about one, really. Unless you count my friend The Princess Andromeda who, honestly, asked me to cut the chapter short and gave me her opinion. Is 2k short?

Full Summary: Over the millennium, he had died many times - once when he was a child, countless times over the centuries due to accidents and assassination, a few times when he was posing as a human (alright, maybe a few hundred), roughly fifty times in rituals to keep his peace with the witches, well, you get the point. But in his whole life, he would never have imagined that he would be able to make contact with his siblings again. At least, that was what he thought until he got killed by his brother. Rated T to be safe, although I think it might be a K+...

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or The Originals. Or the characters. They belong to their respective owners. Done.


10th Century...

"Mother!"

A boy with blond hair carried another bloody and unmoving boy with dark brown hair, who was barely twelve, into their village. The child had blood trickling out of his nose and his shirt was bloody and torn, and from what could be seen through the rips in the fabric, his skin was torn and filled with gashes from claw marks.

A girl who was slightly younger than the first one rushed out from a hut. "Henrik!"

"Mother!" the blond boy shouted again.

The teenager could only stare in horror as she saw her youngest brother on the ground, unresponsive.

A dark skinned woman followed after the blonde and a young man with dark brown hair ran out quickly, and soon after, a middle-aged woman with the same blond hair as her daughter and son rushed forward and knelt down by the head of the bloody boy muttering, "No. No!"

She faced the blond brother urgently. "What happened?"

"The wolves," he answered in sorrow while drawing his knees up to his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The girl bent down to console her brother, wrapping her arm around his shoulders.

"We must save him, please! There must be a way!" The woman said to the dark skinned one frantically.

"The spirits will not give us a way, Esther." Esther looked at her disbelievingly, not wanting to accept the words that she knew were to come next.

"Your boy is gone."

And with those words, Esther broke down, sobbing and clutching her son's shoulder.


However, there was a hidden reason for Esther's grief, one that was known to no one but herself.

For no one knew that the spell that had been used to turn the other Mikaelsons to vampires was first tested on someone else. But of course, the spell used on them had been modified beforehand, seeing as how it hadn't worked.

Or so Esther thought.

At the beginning, she had, indeed, wanted for her family to be stronger, invulnerable, and in general, better than their neighbours, the werewolves, for she feared for her family's safety. She feared that one day, the peace between them would be broken. However, she wanted to find a way that would still allow them to keep their connection to nature, to the spirits of their ancestors. Rebekah, Kol and Henrik were already beginning to show signs of promise at being powerful warlocks and witches. Although her daughter spent more time helping with the chores and chasing after village boys than practicing magic.

Rebekah spent time at Ayana's hut, trying to absorb knowledge about spells, the workings of magic and the importance of keeping the balance, along with all the other things that were necessary for every witch to know. Henrik was also doing the same, already developing his powers at the young age of twelve, much like the brother he was closest in age and relationship with - Kol, who was the first of the six siblings to tap into his magic, and subsequently becoming quite the prodigy with it. However, Henrik's control over it was still slightly lacking, never mind that he was skilled.

Knowing exactly what she wanted, Esther tried hard to find a spell that would do exactly that. And finally, she did. And she chose someone to try it first, for she had sensed that something bad was about to happen to their family, so she picked Henrik, knowing that he was the one that could least be able to hold himself in a fight, be it a physical one or otherwise.

The evening before...

The entire family sat at the table eating their dinner. They would soon leave the house to retreat to the caves for the night, for it was a full moon that night and their neighbours would turn into beastly animals once the moon reached its apex.

Esther Mikaelson stood up, carrying her plate with her. Before she left the dining room, she turned and said, "Henrik, darling, meet me in my room after you have finished your meal. I wish to speak to you on a certain matter."

Henrik looked up from his plate, wondering if he was in trouble. "I understand, Mother. I will meet you shortly."

When Henrik entered the room, he saw his mother seated in her chair, the table in front of her scattered with piece after piece of formulas and spells. Her grimoire was laid out in front of her, pages being flipped back and forth between her slender, calloused fingers.

The room was plain, with sheets of fur serving as a bed for her and Mikael. A few selected animal skins hung on the walls, serving as Mikael's spoils from his hunts. By the window, amulets and trinkets dangled from string, some even gleaming slightly, emanating their own pale light.

Esther looked up from her papers. She patted the seat beside herself. "My child, take a seat beside me."

As Henrik sat and fidgeted in his seat, his mother adjusted herself and the chair she was sitting on so that she was facing her son.

"Henrik," she began, "you are aware of how much I love you and the rest of your siblings, am I correct?" Henrik nodded affirmatively, not having a clue about which direction this conversation was about to go. Esther inhaled deeply to prepare herself for what she was about to reveal to her bright, innocent son.

"Recently, I have been getting... a bad feeling of sorts, and you know how it is when we witches have feelings like that. I am certain that Ayana has told you about them, the premonitions, and they are almost never wrong," she took a breath. "And so I searched for a way. Not to stop whatever is coming, no. Because it is not possible to stop things when they have already been predetermined, as you probably learned from Ayana. Instead, I searched for a loophole."

Henrik furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "So...what exactly are you trying to achieve, Mother? What are you trying to do? A boundary spell?"

Esther chuckled. "No, my dear, not something as simple and straightforward as that. And the probability of success of this is certainly not as high." At this, Henrik decided that he had absolutely no chance at guessing what his mother was up to. She leaned forward and held his hands in her larger ones and continued speaking. " I plan to find a spell to make us like the werewolves - faster, stronger, and in addition," she told him, "immortal."

His eyes were growing rounder by the second. Immortality? That, combined with the other aspects, would actually risk breaking the balance of nature; and it was known that nature would make sure that the balance was righted. Of course, the means that were used usually tended to be negative to the other party. Seeing as how they were witches, servants of nature, what price would nature ask of them? Their connection to the earth? He shuddered. He could not imagine a life without the thrill, the energy, that magic brought. And to think of how Kol would react. He practically lived on that. For him to lose it would be downright disastrous.

"Henrik, I know that you are thinking that you might possibly lose your magic. But fret not, I have asked the spirits beforehand on a possible method to keep your magic. You will have to perform a ritual every few decades; although they have not informed me on the details about how or for what reason it has to be performed."

"Mother, I understand what you are saying. But why are you telling me all this? What are you asking of me?" What she had said previously, it almost sounded as if...

She pursed her lips. "I suppose that I should stop delaying what needs to be said. I am asking for your permission to perform this spell on you."

Well, whatever idea Henrik had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that.

"W-What? Why me? Why not... Finn? Or Kol? Or maybe even Nik?"

She rested a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "The rest of your siblings are old enough to protect themselves; with magic or a weapon. Even Rebekah, I figure that she has learnt how to handle a sword from watching your brothers. You, on the other hand, are too young to be handling a sharp weapon and your magic is still not completely under your control, even if you already know all there is to know. Remember that incident with Niklaus' tunics?"

He blushed profusely. Indeed, he remembered how he had unconsciously moved all of his brother's tunics to Rebekah's closet. When Niklaus had been seen rummaging around Rebekah's possessions by Elijah, he had received a very unnerving look by said brother. Henrik had been hiding behind a wall witnessing the events that followed after he had wondered what it would look like to see his older brother humiliated. His wish had definitely been fulfilled, in a strange way. And of course his mother found out about his little burst of magic and gave him a much needed talk about using magic to pranks his siblings.

"Then... I give you my permission to do so, Mother."

Her grip on Henrik tightened, almost painfully and her worried eyes seemed to bore through his soul. "Are you absolutely sure about this? I have no knowledge about what sort of repercussions might happen! What if you get cursed because of me?"

"I have faith in you, Mother. Even if the spell shows doesn't work... at least you tried to protect us, right? And then things will happen the way it was supposed to."

The blond woman choked back a sob, whispering, "Okay..." and gave her son one last look before she gathered all the ingredients needed and started chanting. After a few minutes of chanting, she scooped up the ingredients and put them into a goblet of wine laced with Tatiana's blood, watching them fizz and bubble until they disintegrated. A wisp of white smoke started to rise and curl upwards before dissipating.

"It's done." She pushed the goblet forward with trembling hands. "Drink it, my child."

He cupped the goblet between sweaty palms and stared at it for a good amount of time, almost thinking of reconsidering before he brought the rim to his trembling lips and swallowed.

The taste hit him so hard and suddenly that his ears rang and yellow and black spots danced across his line of vision, as they did when he had received a blow to the head from the hilt of Elijah's sword when they had been sparring. The different tastes were clashing - the sour, fermented taste of red wine, the iron taste of blood, and the mixed tastes of different herbs - bitter, sweet and spicy all at once. It was completely and utterly overwhelming.

Once the contents had been drained, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It was his first time drinking wine, and it had been mixed with all sorts of things that, when combined, clashed together to result in a taste which was fragrant and disgusting at the same time, but overpowering all the while. It seemed that his first time had been spoiled. On the bright side, he didn't have to wait until he was of age to taste it.

He looked at his mother expectantly, wondering absently if there was more to the ritual. He did not get the chance to ponder further due to the fact that he was suddenly being enveloped in his mother's warm embrace, which one hand stroking and running through his dark locks. He untucked his slender arms from where they were currently being sandwiched between the two bodies and proceeded to return the hug with more, if not equal fervour.

They stayed like that for a while, taking comfort from each other. Finally, Esther pulled away and smiled fondly at her youngest child. "Go on, it is almost time to retreat to the tunnels. Leave with your siblings first. Your father and I will catch up with you shortly. And help carry some of your belongings this time, my little bird."

Henrik stood up and refrained himself from stretching like a cat in front of his mother, a habit of his after getting up from a relaxed position. For example, after waking up from a nap. It would be embarrassing.

"Good-bye, Mother." He hugged his mother one last time and dropped a kiss to her cheek. Esther laughed and ushered him out of the room and he walked out with a cheeky grin plastered on his face.


And so, when I was writing this thing, I had a confusion between the spellings 'blond' and 'blonde'. So I checked online and they said that 'blond' refers to blond males and 'blonde' refers to blond female, and yeah, 'blond' is the adjective as well. Does that clear the confusion you might have had? If you didn't notice my spelling differences, you learnt something!...Although that might be wrong...Ah well, no one said you had to trust my word for it. *shrugs* And knowing myself, I'll probably forget that too.

I'm not trying to be sexist or whatever, just trying to follow all that proper grammar/vocab junk before some of you tear your hair out at my stupidity of not knowing the difference and randomly using different spellings throughout. If there are any factual mistakes or grammar stuff I missed out, feel free to point them out because I know how it feels to read something with a whole bunch of errors. I'm nice, I won't bite, so please rest assured because I won't kill you for your opinion, pointers and tips (I'm not trying to be mean either). Just don't be mean and hate on me.

I just realised how odd that all sounded...

Anyways, I actually like to know how you want this story to go, so...tell me how you feel about this so far. I am writing for your enjoyment after all. Any suggestions on what you guys would like to see? I might ask questions in the near(-ish) future.

As for that magic spell thing that Esther performed, I made it up. And all the other witchy things that will possibly happen. I honestly have no idea about Latin or any of that witchy stuff TVD does. Really.

I know that there are probably other things that you think are wrong but I'm too lazy to explain it now. Sorry. You can ask me about these things but unless I am asked to explain, I won't do so. Maybe I'll ramble someday...

P.S. I am terribly sorry for long A/N's (for this one and future ones to come). I like to get points across. And I like to talk. I can tell you that Ialso have the urge to dump every bit of info out sometimes. This style of writing is my more "serious" style because I'm just terrified of my other style which is basically "fangirling-mindset" style. But I'm still sorry if it's kind of crap. Is it a bit long-winded or repetitive? Sure feels like it to me.

P.P.S. I actually didn't watch very much of TVD or TO, hence the possible factual mistakes. I also don't know which bits of the TVD timeline matches with TO's so... I'll just wing it till someone corrects me. So feel free to lecture me and give me spoilers. I like spoilers...;) Gimme info.

You're welcome to fangirl with me if you need a fangirling partner. Just sayin'.

Review, favourite and follow…?

Oh, and Merry Christmas people!

-Crazycuz (CC)