I do not own TVD or TO
Anyone ever wonder how Kol actually managed to die in that first lifetime? Here come the answers.
The sun was high in the sky by the time the anti-magic spells were removed and Qetsiyah had been dealt with. For the time being she had been turned to marble and left as a statue in the center of the courtyard; she had been calcified after the anchorage to the Other Side was moved from Finn to her and now stood frozen. She heard and felt everything: the pain of death over and over again.
"Who the bloody hell are you?" Klaus glared at the woman leaning against the bookshelves. Hope stood with the help of the coffee table and his hands; she kept looking from Caroline to the blonde by the wall.
"And why do you look like me?" Caroline eyes scanned the other woman's features. It was a good thing she was a vampire because she was still having trouble breathing. For the first time she was getting a taste of what Elena must have felt when she found Katherine's picture in Stefan's things.
"Did you seriously just ask me that?" She gave Caroline a disbelieving look as she leaned forward; a tiny smile betrayed her amusement. "Seriously?" Her brows rose as she motioned around the room to Elena and Elijah.
"I believe we've all come to the conclusion that you're a doppelganger love," Klaus rolled his eyes.
"Technically I'm not," she tilted her head and nodded to Caroline, "she is, and as I understand it the lot of you also know Silas' doppelganger."
"What's your point?" Elena shivered, leaning into Kol's side.
"No point," she shrugged, "I just think it's funny that every doppelganger is connected to the others in some way."
"I'm so glad you're finding humor in this," Kol's eyes narrowed. "I can't help but notice that you've failed to answer the question darling." He smoothed a curl over Elena's shoulder, still damp from her shower. "Who the bloody hell are you?"
Something like hurt flashed in her green eyes, but it was quickly masked with a soft laugh.
"You know," she leaned back, eyes darting to Amara and Elena, "I can understand the two of them not remembering me, I was only six years old at the time, but you," she pointed to Kol and shook her head, "… you… now that hurts."
"I'm supposed to know you?" He sat up straight.
Before she got a chance to answer they were joined in the sitting room.
Elena's stomach flipped when she turned on the sofa and caught Silas' eyes. He gave her a quick once over before turning his attention to the blonde with whom he had entered the compound.
"I've done my part, now it's your turn." Silas walked around the side of the couch with all of the confidence that came with being the world's oldest immortal. "Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain, or do I take what I want from the helpless pregnant woman?"
Amara was on her feet before he could turn. She stood in front of Elena and Kol with her hands on her hips.
"Lay a hand on my sister and I'll tear you apart," she spat. Fire flashed in her dark eyes.
"I'd love to see you try," Silas chuckled. His eyes raked up and down Amara's form, sizing up her resolve. "Even if you had the nerve, my love, I took the potion a full half-hour before you, giving me a distinct advantage in any fight you might begin."
"And Amara has the support of three powerful witches," Freya took up a stance behind the couch. She braced her hands on the back so her arms were on either side of Kol and Elena.
"Four," Caroline's look alike spoke up.
"Four powerful witches," Freya amended.
Silas seemed to consider taking the challenge anyway before turning with a smirk to address the trio by the couch.
"I won't lay a hand on her," he stepped back from Amara, holding out his hands, palms to the ceiling. "I won't have to because she," he turned around to the armchair, "will keep her word. Won't you, Mikro Koritsi?"
"I told you I am not a little girl," she reached into her pocket, pulling out a slim vial of crimson liquid. "Here's what you wanted. Take it," she stood, slapping the potion in his palm, "and leave."
He held the vial up to the light so the red was illuminated. It glinted in the casing.
"This will work?" Silas cocked an eyebrow.
"It's immortally tested." She crossed her arms.
"Then you have my eternal gratitude, Cassandra," he pocketed the liquid. "Have a happy life, mikro koritsi."
"Die lonely," Cassandra scoffed.
"That's the plan," Silas smirked before flashing away.
A heavy silence fell over the assembled family. It hung between them as they all fixed Cassandra with an expectant stare, but it was Caroline who broke the silence.
"So…" she ventured, feeling a little strange addressing a woman who looked just like her, "… Kol's supposed to know you?"
"He should," Cassandra nodded. Her eyes took on a far off look as she leaned forward in her chair, bracing her elbows on her knees.
"Cassandra," Amara breathed, her eyes locked on the blonde. Images of a golden haired child with perfect braids flashed in her mind.
"He practically raised me," she mused, "there was nobody else when all was said and done."
57 BC
"Please wake up," she shook his shoulder. Fat tears streaked over her flushed cheeks. "Please…"
She sobbed all the harder when he didn't move.
She could still hear the screams and smell the smoke rising from her burning home down the hill. Her feet ached and bled where the bare soles had come into contact with sharp rocks on her hasty run. All she had been able to think about was what her mother said.
"Run to your sister's house. She'll keep you safe."
Those had been her mother's final words before she choked on her blood. She had locked eyes with Qetsiyah as her mother fell, and for the first time in her young life she knew true terror; it filled her soul and for a second she didn't think she would be able to move from the woman's gaze, but when she advanced Cassandra's short legs jumped into action. She had run, snatching the bracelet from Qetsiyah's wrist and darting into the field; she dropped it when she was concealed in the tall grass and bolted for the villa. The sound of crashing feet had followed her into the underbrush but her height meant she had the advantage.
Qetsiyah hadn't emerged with her, so she could only assume that she was finishing her work at the house before moving on and following.
She had expected sanctuary. She had expected help. She had expected anything but the thing she found.
Her sister's garden was soaked in blood; it ran in rivers feeding the plants, poisoning the foliage.
"Please…" she shook him again, tearing her eyes from her sister's unseeing eyes.
He wasn't moving, but he didn't look like he was hurt either.
It was only when her sobs turned to heaving hiccups that he sat up with a gasp. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her tear streaked face, hiding from the grisly sight of her big sister; the woman who had taught her how to light the fire with a murmured word.
"Cassandra?" He cupped the back of her head, frowning at the specks of blood he found in her hair. The red liquid intensified the burn in his throat. "What's happened?"
He focused on the trembling child in his arms. He couldn't look up to what he knew was there. Raising his eyes, seeing her cold body, once so warm, her dull eyes, always so full of emotion, her frozen lips, meant to be tipped up in a glowing smile, would mean that it was real; that the horror he had been forced to watch was not a dream, but real.
"She…" Cassandra's tiny voice wobbled, "… she k-k-killed them all."
"Who killed who?" He rubbed her back. The small child had been prone to night terrors in the past, but murder had never been brought up; dread crept up his spine.
"Q-Q-Qetsiyah…" she hiccupped. Her tears soaked into his tunic. "Why… why would she… she used to give me pasteli…"
Cassandra leaned back; her eyes were raw from so many tears. Try as she might she couldn't connect the woman who had slaughtered her entire family with the lady who used to buy her sweet treats at the agora whenever she snuck off from her mother's side and sought out Amara; her sister always carried Qetsiyah's basket.
"That doesn't make her a good person," Elias shook his head. "Where is she?"
"At the villa," Cassandra blinked. She started crying again when he stood up. "Don't go… she'll kill you too."
"No she won't," he knelt on one knee so they were eye level and cupped her tiny face in his large hands, "she can't kill me; I don't think anyone can now."
"But she…"
"Cassandra," he pressed caught her gaze, "she will not harm me. I promise you that I will come back, but I have to go; I have to make sure she doesn't hurt you."
He turned her towards the villa without letting her face the stone table. It was highly unlikely that she had not already looked but he wanted to spare her from the further sight; if what she said was true then Cassandra was the last link to his wife.
"I want you to go inside and hide," his eyes darted to the path beyond the garden and the crunch of cold grass underfoot. "Think of it like a game, alright?" His heart pounded in his chest. "Go inside and hide; don't come out for anyone but me."
Cassandra nodded.
He watched her run off and fought down the sudden urge he had to chase her down. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath and turned around. Pain gripped his chest when he saw her. Was it really only that morning she had revealed her pregnancy? Had truly felt joy mere hours before?
He doubted he would feel it again.
He tasted salt on his lips when he passed his thumb and forefinger over her eyes, closing the lids over the unseeing brown. He took the knife that had been used to end her life and cut away the vines, raising her cold hand to his mouth and kissing her palm.
"Until the next life, kardiá mou," he murmured. The approaching steps stilled as he lowered her hand.
"I would not count on that. She is dead, and you, my dear Elias," Qetsiyah tilted her head when he didn't move; "you will live forever. It was more a punishment for her then for you."
"And slaughtering her family?" He gripped the edge of the table. Bits of stone crumpled beneath his fingers, falling into the blood soaked grass.
"Therapeutic," Qetsiyah hummed. "The secrets she knew must die with her. There can be no survivors, none who might remember her name; only you. Where's the child?"
"What child?" He turned, clenching his jaw.
"Don't play dumb," Qetsiyah stepped towards him. "Where is Cassandra? Her mother's dying words sent her to this home."
"I won't let you hurt her," his eyes narrowed.
"You've consumed the elixir," Qetsiyah smirked, "and I've destroyed the cure." Her eyes fell to Alenka. "Your wife is dead and incapable of making more. You," she lifted her gaze to him again, "are powerless; it's the drawback to immortality."
Her eyes bulged when a hand closed around her throat. She clawed at his forearm attempting to break his constricting grip.
"I'm not completely powerless," he gritted his teeth. With a small twist of his wrist he heard the sound of snapping bones.
Qetsiyah fell dead at his feet.
He exhaled and turned around. Carefully he lifted his wife and stepped inside the villa as the first drops of rain began to fall. It bounced off the roof as he moved and laid her gently on a chaise before the fire. Retrieving a bolt of cloth he covered her body and went in search of Cassandra.
Cassandra placed the tiny golden tablet over her lips after he slipped the coin onto her tongue and stepped back. She tipped her head up to look at Elias as she was lowered into the grave.
"Why do we put the coin and the tablet?" She blinked. She had placed a tablet on the lips of her entire family.
Elias startled. He had never expected he would have to explain funeral rites to Cassandra, but he supposed that these were the only funerals she had ever been to. The last of her family to pass had been her grandmother while she was still turning in her mother's womb.
"The coin," he squeezed her fingers, gently, aware somewhat of his strength, "is to pay the ferryman, so her soul will be granted passage into Hades, and the tablet," he glanced down, "provides instructions for navigating the afterlife, and tells the proper way to provide tribute to Hades and Persephone."
"I think Persephone will like her," Cassandra nodded decisively. "They'll drink wine every night and talk about flowers. Will she take some with her?"
Cassandra sniffled. Her right hand was enclosed in Elias' left, but her other hand skimmed the wildflowers that rose around her legs.
"I think if anyone was going to take flowers to the underworld," he managed a small smile, the first in days, "it would be your sister. I used to bring her flowers from here; I always meant to show her this place."
"I think she likes it here," Cassandra lifted the dirt. She knew this part of the funeral; she had to sprinkle the clods of dirt over her sister before her body could be buried.
2013
"I was six years old, and you were the only family I had left," Cassandra felt their eyes on her as she finished her tale.
"I don't remember any of that," Kol shook his head.
"Of course not," Cassandra sighed. "Ten years passed, and I learned magic. Everything Ellie knew and had shown you. I was fifteen when I swore I'd find a way to make you human again."
"You had to die somehow," Amara's eyes met Kol's.
"There were many unsuccessful attempts," Cassandra bit her bottom lip. "Every time I told you I thought I had it you were so full of hope," she took a deep breath, "and that hope was crushed when I failed. You never said it, but I could tell."
Kol felt Elena's hand slide over his. He flipped his palm over without thinking and locked their fingers together.
"What happened?" Elena's eyes flickered from Caroline to the young woman who had once been her little sister.
"I didn't tell him the last time," Cassandra shrugged. "I recreated the entire spell because logic told me that if the immortality part was right the cure would be too."
"I drank it," she pushed her hair back from her face, "and it worked, and then I took my recreated cure."
"That worked too?" Elena swiped her thumb over Kol's knuckles.
"It did," Cassandra nodded, "with one small catch. I didn't realize it until later because I took the cure so soon after becoming immortal, but all of the memories gathered between becoming immortal and reverting were gone."
"I forgot everything that happened after she died," Kol squeezed Elena's hand.
"Everything," Cassandra sighed, "and you didn't have time to learn again because as luck would have it that was the night the Gemini attacked. They killed you, and they killed me. I watched before crossing to the Other Side."
"Why would you do that?" Caroline glanced down when Hope crawled over into her lap.
"Because, my shadow self," Cassandra released a humourless laugh, "they were using my blood. The last of us was used to curse every gypsy then and in future generations."
"Your blood cursed the gypsies?" Elijah frowned. "Theoretically your blood could break it."
"In theory," Cassandra hummed. "It's possible."
"There's something I don't get," Klaus watched her carefully. "If you were the last then how did the doppelganger line continue?"
"I…" Cassandra laughed nervously, "…I lost my whole family to a psychotic bitch when I was a child. You don't think I acted out?" She glanced at Kol. "We were fairly isolated in the villa, and because of Ellie's preservation spells quite self-sufficient. It wasn't hard to hide my condition, and there was a lovely couple, childless, in the village; more than willing to keep their mouths shut. That was about six months before the curse."
"I died as a witch," she went on, "I watched from the Other Side for two thousand years as a witch." Cassandra fingered the edge of her sleeve. "I saw when you found the cave, and when your presence woke Silas. He crawled out months later with nothing but the names Elena and Rebekah, and he went searching for the cure that had been stolen from him."
"You were on the Other Side," Finn tilted his head. "How are you here?"
"I felt when the tear happened," she leaned forward, "the moment you returned to this world. Qetsiyah followed, intent on revenge, and I… I felt rage. I crossed over before you could fix things and intercepted Silas to keep him from attacking Ellie and taking the cure by force. I had a feeling I was going to need his help when it came down to it, and I was right."
"He helped you and you helped him," Elena glanced over her shoulder to the statue that was Qetsiyah. "A little quid-pro-quo."
"Precisely," Cassandra laughed. "I'm also going to help you," she reached into her back pocket. She shook a small packet of herbs before tossing them across the coffee table. "That is a mixture of herbs from your own compendium," she smiled, "perfectly safe to drink while pregnant. Just dissolve them in water and you'll have memories back within twelve hours."
"What do you get out of this?" Elena ran her fingertip over the packet. She barely knew Cassandra, but holding the packet in her hand she found that she believed her.
"The knowledge that you won't have gaping holes in your memory," Cassandra shrugged. She got to her feet and crossed her arms. "I came back from the Other Side to protect my family," she looked from Amara to Kol and Elena, "I've done that. The only thing left to do is figure out where to place Qetsiyah so she can spend eternity knowing the pain she inflicted on Amara."
"I might have an idea," Kol felt his lips quirk up in a smirk. "There is one place that has been uninhabited for the past two millennia."
Cassandra caught his meaning before anyone else.
"You know," she eyed the statue, "she does look a little homesick."
I'm not going to lie. I made myself cry writing that little funeral scene. I had to actually stop and get tissues.
Anyway... Let me know what you think.
It's just the epilogue now. It's tentatively set six months after this chapter before Elena's due date.