A/N Yepp, you seemed to like it. Ask and ye shall receive, here is the next chapter about their pre-vampire days. The story picks up a couple of weeks after the last chapter ends.

Review please!

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

North Atlantic, June 989 AD

The storm was threatening to break the mast. It had already ripped the sail in two places, despite their attempts to haul the expensive fabric before the destruction tore it. The beautiful blue and white silk, colors his brother had made his own, was drifting in the wind like rags.

Every thirty seconds the ship would climb an impossibly steep hill of water, the men straining to keep her straight and pointed against the wind with their oars, up until she crested the hill and plummeted down into the depths of Hel again. She gathered speed on the decline until she hit the valley of the wave with enough power to knock the breath out of every man aboard and cause all of their hearts to race with the sound of beams groaning, almost breaking, with the blow. Again and again they relaxed, as the groan was not followed by the splintering sound telling them they would all rest in the arms of the sea goddess tonight, at least not with this blow. Then she began climbing again and the roller coaster of fear started all over, muscles almost ripping from bone with the super human feats they demanded of their bodies and performed without thinking of the consequences. Torn muscles and broken bones will heal. Death never heals. Hel is a cruel mistress.

Kol stood in the front of the ship, among his younglings, running from one to the other to aid whoever seemed to be failing at the moment either by adding his own strength to their labor or simply by calling out encouragement. The front rows of rowers took the brunt of the force each time the ship hit the bottom of another valley between the massive waves. Only the high fore of the ship, crowned by the image of a snarling dragon, prevented the sea from pouring in and completely overtaking them. During the weeks of their journey he had gained his sea legs, now effortlessly staying balanced as the deck heaved and rolled under him.

The men were struggling around him, muscles almost devoid of strength after fighting the raging ocean for several hours. Suddenly Sven, one of the youngest men and barely more than a boy, slipped and lost the grip of his oar just as they were straightening the ship to meet the next steep incline, causing the fore to angle slightly sideways into the wall of water. A massive breaker wave poured in over the foredeck, unstopped by the dragon. Kol had seen Sven slip and was already on his way over to the young mans' side to aid him in regain control of his oar. Therefore he was the only man standing rather than securely seated as the wave crashed over him, sweeping his feet off the deck and throwing him towards, no over, the railing.

He has always known this was one of the many likely ways to take him to the afterlife. Kol was not afraid to die, but he was afraid to die like this! There was no honor in being taken by the sea goddess, the likelihood of spending eternity in the cold dark halls of Hel now much greater than him ever walking with his ancestors in Valhall. Being denied the warriors death and thus the warriors due of eternity among the gods, that was what scared him. Just as he was about to be completely washed over the railing he suddenly feels an iron grip around his ankle and his movement abruptly stops. Looking behind him he sees Haraldr, a strong young man on his third tour and soon not to be a youngling anymore. He had looped a rope around his own waist and thrown himself after his young leader, grabbing a hold of him just as the sea was about to claim him forever. Twisting his body Kol managed to get a hold of the young man's arm, clasping around his elbow as as Haraldr did the same to him, ironically mimicking the gesture of respectful greeting used between leaders. With almost super human strength Haraldr managed to drag himself and Kol back onto the deck.

Once he had regained his footing, the young Mikaelson did not let go of his saviors arm, instead grabbing a tighter hold, confirming it for a greeting and staring into his eyes for a moment. 'Jag har blodskuld, vän. Mod och ära.'

I am in blood debt, friend. Courage and honor.

Haraldr simply nodded, a small smile on his serious face before he let go of Kol's arm and swiftly returned to his station, grabbing his oar. Kol looked towards the stern of the ship where Elijah used all of his skill as a captain to keep them all afloat and alive. His brother's eyes were riveted at him and his face was ashen, it was clear he had seen just how close a call it had been. His worry had made him weak for a moment when the realization that he was losing his baby brother crashed into him with full force, almost losing his own balance despite his many years of experience. Kol nodded to his brother in confirmation that he was safe and sound, then turned back to stare at the troubled waters that had almost claimed him and felt rage run through his body.

'Ran, I am not yours tonight!' he screamed into the wind and the salt spray. 'But if you must claim a Mikaelson, take me, not my brother! If a sacrifice from my family must be made, I offer myself to you!' His men heard him, proud of his defiance against the goddess, proud of his honor and faith in his clan, and added that extra bit of power that allowed their ship to ride yet another wave without breaking. Elijah heard him, his struggle to save every man on his ship strengthened by the bravery of his brother, strengthened in his belief that Kol had the makings of a leader of men.

'Land ohoy! Land at starboard!' The lookout yelled against the wind, every man on the ship gaining that extra bit of endurance from his words. They were not fighting a useless battle, just a little bit more and they would all be safe. 'Listen to me! None of us will be yours tonight, Ran' Kol spit under his breath, 'Release us from your anger! If you make it so, I will sacrifice the first life I see ashore to you, I swear.'

The sea calmed, impossibly calmed, and strong arms grabbed the oars to bring the ship towards the shallows and the soft sand where they could beach. The change was sudden, and Elijah raised a questioning eyebrow at his brother, Kol's yells of defiance having been the last thing he heard before the Goddess calmed down. 'I promised her a sacrifice!' Kol yelled into his brother's ear, trying to out-voice the wind. Elijah nodded. 'She listens to you, that is a valuable skill brother. Whatever you promised her, she will have it.'

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N Some trivia again. Ran is the goddess of the sea in Norse mythology whereas Hel is the goddess of the underworld, where the people that did not die bravely in battle went after death. Brave warriors, killed by the sword, went to Valhal (Walhalla) – everyone else went to Hel's domain. It was not uncommon for an old warrior who had survived all his raiding days to ask, and receive, a killing blow by the sword by his peers before dying of sickness or old age, thus increasing his chances of going to Valhal. He died by the sword after all.

And, if you're wondering, yes – the goddess Hel's name, which also pertains to her underworld domain, is where the word "hell" derives from. Christianity has always been good at taking opposing deities and making them evil. ;)

More name trivia, regarding the old Nordic names I've mentioned in this chapter

Sven – means youngling, or young man

Haraldr –Old Nordic way of spelling 'Harald' or 'Harold', made from a combination of the words for "army" and "ruler" and thus means something like 'commander' or 'war chief. Haraldr will have a larger role to play in the story, I guess you can dub him a "supporting character"