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Mystic Falls, 998
"Look, Henrik, look! I found dandelions!" A little girl runs across the bright green field, her long braid flying behind her. In her hand, she clutches two dandelions. The seeds are blowing everywhere, but the little girl doesn't notice.
It's a perfect day. The first breezy day during the hot summer. The grass sways in the wind, back and forth, like a graceful dance. The sun lights the girl's hair golden. She is pale with blushy cheeks and bright eyes. She looks just like a little Bekah.
Her twin, the little boy named Henrik, looks nothing like her. He is tall where she is short. He is broad where she is slim. He is dark-haired where she is light. They only have two things in common: their pale skin and their cerulean blue eyes. The eyes of their mother. The eyes of Nik. The eyes of Bekah.
Henrik's blue eyes currently rest on his twin sister. She has almost reached him now, still holding two stems. She skids to a stop right in front of him, lifting her hand with a flourish and a smile. The smile disappears when she notices the bare stems. Henrik laughs.
"Oh bother! I must have ran too fast. The little seeds blew away. I wanted us to make a wish," the little girl says, a frown on her cherub round face. She is only seven, but her older brother, Kol, recently taught her about the most magical flower of all: the wish flowers. She hadn't found any yet, not until today, and now her chance is gone.
"It is alright, sister, do not fret. We can collect more." Henrik is the one to comfort little Adelaide. She is always up in the clouds. Someone has to be the one to keep her from flying too high. As her older (by only five and a half minutes, as she likes to remind him) brother, he has decided to take on that role.
"We cannot," she says mournfully and dramatically, like Bekah, "Mother says we have to feed the chickens before dinner. By the time we come back from the dandelion patch, it will be too late." Adelaide pouts, looking once again like Bekah. Kol says it's a girl thing, but never to their faces. He knows Bekah would smack him for it.
"Henrik! Adelaide! It is time to head back," a male voice calls, "You have chores to do!" It is Elijah, ever the responsible one.
"We are coming!" The twins yell in unison.
"We shall collect more tomorrow. I shall ask Nik to bring us." Henrik pats her shoulder.
Adelaide brightens up. "No. I shall ask Kol. He is always gathering herbs for his spells. He knows these fields better than Nik. He could help us find more flowers!"
"No," Henrik retorts, "We shall ask Nik. Kol is rude. He will not want to help us gather flowers."
"Kol is not rude-" Adelaide is cut off by Elijah yelling for them, once again. The twins sigh, but grab hold of each other's hands, and make their way to Elijah.
Elijah stands at the edge of the village, arms crossed and a wrinkle between his brow. During the day, when chores are to be done, he is strict. But at night, he tucks them in. If they're lucky, they might even get a story or two.
When Adelaide and Henrik are close enough, he reaches forward, grasps each of their shoulders, turns them around, and pushes them into the village. Elijah walks past the booths and shops, and all the other houses. He walks them past Ayana's house and stops Adelaide from chatting with the witch. He leads them all the way to the Mikaelson home.
Only then does he let go of their shoulders. "Off you go," he says, "Only a short while till dinner."
Henrik nods and Adelaide imitates him. The twins meander over to the chicken pens. Adelaide notes that Kol is already stationed there. He is grazing the chickens, herding them with a staff when they wander too far.
Adelaide stops walking, and Henrik stops as well. A slow smile spreads across her face. It is smug and superior. She turns to him.
"See? Kol is not rude. He is feeding the chickens for us." Her tone is as smug as her smile.
Henrik grumbles, but lets out a begrudging agreement. Adelaide laughs triumphantly. Her laugh is so loud and ridiculous, that Henrik joins in with her. They each pick up a staff and join Kol by the chickens. He ruffles Adelaide's hair and takes off. The smile stays on her face long after he has left.
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France, 1498
"Come to me, darling. I assure you, I shall act very..." he pauses, trying his best to suppress his sarcastic smile, "gentlemanly."
He stalks toward the curtains, where he knows she's hiding. Licking the blood from his lips, he steps right over his last victim. After five hundred years of bloodshed, this does not even faze him.
Reaching out a pale hand, he yanks open the curtains. He almost flinches from the last vestiges of the sunset, but manages to keep his composure. The ornate ring on his index finger reassures him.
The brunette screams in shock when her hiding place is ripped away from her. She screams a second time in fear when she sees the demon before her. The demon, who once seemed like a handsome gentleman, has black veins traveling down his face and fangs poking out of his lips.
She had once kissed those lips, but never again. He slaughtered everyone in sight. Blood stains not only the floor, but him as well. She is terrified. Little does she know, her terrified heartbeat is music to his ears.
"There you are." He croons softly. She tries to run, but he corners her. "Hide and seek is over, darling. I am quite famished."
He opens his mouth to fully reveal his fangs. And with a hiss, he sinks them into her slim neck. She screams and fights, but he is too strong for her. Gulping greedily, he drinks every drop of her blood. He eats like an animal, blood spills out of the sides of his mouth and dribbles down his face.
He finally pulls away when she stills, her little rabbit heartbeat finally coming to an end. He does not feel regret. He does not feel guilt. Instead, he feels bored, yet again. It seems that nothing, not even a good chase, can fill the void in his chest.
He has forgotten that five hundred years ago, to the very day, he fed the chickens for his youngest siblings, worried that they wouldn't make it home in time. He loved them and did not want to see them being punished by Mikael. It was a kind act, something that he rarely did nowadays.
The kindness in him died very long ago. It died when Henrik did. And the hope of its resurrection was lost when Adelaide was lost to him, too. Kol Mikaelson has forgotten many things, but he has not forgotten the terrible ache that comes with losing what he loved most.
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