"I'm just praying no one suggests a Frozen AU

Kol as Elsa. That's all I'm saying. XD" –Me and QueenVamp

I brought this on myself. This is my last fairytale AU. Please.

This is actually starts of quite dark. There's some child abuse here, emotional and physical. So be forewarned.

Growing up as the heir to a throne is not easy. From a young age, he's brought up to be the perfect crown prince and the future king of Mikaelson. He's not allowed for silly childhood things like building a snowman with his sister or figure skating at the pond on the castle grounds. He has lessons from tutors relentlessly drilling him to become the ideal monarch.

And as a result, he grows sheltered in the castle except for activities that need the outdoors like swordwork or riding. He feels quite alone for he has no real companions that aren't assigned to him by his parents. Even his sister Rebekah is a practical stranger. Many nights he spends as a child staring into the candle by his bedside that always lighted despite his governess extinguishing it before she left and the flame's voice will sing him a lullaby only he can hear.

One night when his eyelids are drooping and the flame's song lulls him softly, the heavy door of his bedroom creaks and he sits up alarmed as Rebekah enters. Dressed in her loose white nightgown, her bare feet tiptoeing on the cold floors she stops several feet from his bed, looking lost and unsure. She is still so young and he remembers she's only three, looking so small with her teddy bear in hand. He's never played with her because he's always busy and now the awkward tension makes him want to squirm.

"I'm cold," She finally says, voice timid. "Can I stay here with you?"

He can hear his father's voice in his head, telling him to order her back to her room. But why he has to, he is not sure. She is his sister, his blood. Surely, he can offer her comfort like any big brother would do?

Making up his mind, he lifts the covers on his large bed. There's plenty of space for her and he doesn't need to move back too much. "Alright. You can stay."

Her grin is bright even in the dark room and she eagerly goes to the bed and climbs up, snuggling into the covers and the army of pillows Kol surrounds them with. "Thank you," She murmurs, already falling asleep.

"You're welcome." He stares down at her peaceful, sleeping face and feels something in him piece together, locking into place.

He lies back down and even lets Rebekah cuddle into his side. He says nothing and looks back at the candle on his bedside, the flame's song still singing softly. He listens to the last echo of her voice before he wills her away and the room is completely dark once more.

Rebekah visits his room regularly after that. Especially when the days get colder and she enjoys the natural warmth he always seems to resonate. "You're always so warm," She murmurs to him one night. And he smiles drowsily.

One night though they can't fall asleep because of the ball going on below. It was the birthday of the king and a grand celebration they could not attend was going on. Royalty, nobility and gentry all in the large ballroom are dancing and being merry while the children amuse themselves by imagining it all.

Rebekah decides it'd be fun to pretend they are dancing in the ballroom so she sprints out of the bed and grasps the skirt of her loose nightgown to spin round and round his bedroom. Kol smiles at his sister's display as she stifles her giggles. She stops to offer her small hand to his. "Dance with me, my prince?"

He agrees and jumps off the bed. He bows to her, just as his tutor taught him and she curtsies back, somewhat clumsily but it's endearing. He takes her hands and positions them accordingly, one hand on his shoulder the other in his hand. His hand on her waist he guides her around the circular room, teaching her an unrefined but enjoyable waltz.

The room is a bit too dark for what they're doing so he wills the other candles to catch fire like he does the one on his bedside every night. They all are aflame instantly, bathing the room with light. Rebekah gasps in delight and he twirls her until she laughs from the dizziness. She grasps unto him so she doesn't slip and fall and he pats her blonde head affectionately.

When Kol reaches the age of thirteen, an accident forever changes his life. No one knew about his little tricks with flames but he and Rebekah but he should've known his peculiar talents would be known by others sooner or later. He's sparring with a squire, Tyler Lockwood, and the other boy he can safely say is an arrogant cock. Kol is the better swordsman by far and it irks Lockwood to the point the squire results to spouting insults to offset the prince.

A particularly distasteful comment about Rebekah angers Kol to the point he pushes Tyler aware so hard he lands on his back on the ground. And then the boy's clothes immediately caught fire. The squire screamed trying to extinguish the flames until a servant dumped a bucket of ice cold water on him.

Kol watches in horror, feeling his world crumble around him. Tyler is burned, crying out with red, peeling skin. The smell of burned flesh acrid in the air, it makes the prince want to vomit. Master Alaric, their teacher, looks down concerned at Tyler who is whimpering in pain and it's only when he sees the guilt on Kol's face that he understands.

Kol drops his sword and runs back inside the castle, feeling everyone's eyes on him.

His father is furious when he finds out about what happened to the squire. Kol cannot ignore his father's summons to the throne room and he stares down ashamed at the floor as he kneels in front of his father. He feels cold sweat at his nape as the king orders everyone to leave them alone. The closing of the heavy oak door rings loudly in the empty room.

Kol's fears are at his throat, his apprehension nearly sickening as his father descends down from his throne, his booted foot stopping in front of his son. "Get up," Mikael nearly growls and Kol obeys quickly.

Kol keeps his gaze down but Mikael's voice is a near shout as he commands, "Look at me, boy!"

The older man nearly sneers at the fright in his son's eyes. His disgust evident, he grasped the crown prince by his shoulders, fingers digging into the still developing muscle and bone. "Is it true? What you did earlier to the squire?"

Kol cannot speak, fear quieting his words.

"Answer me!" Mikael's jaw is locked, eyes ablaze. "Did you set him on fire?"

"Yes!" Kol answers in a panic. "But I swear, father, I didn't mean to! I was just so angry-"

Mikael pulls away, his hands dropping from him like he's infected with the plague. The king starts to pace the room, his movements jerky and quick. Kol can only watch in apprehension. Finally after what feels like an eternity, his father turns back to him.

"How?" Mikael's gaze is intense like he could set Kol on fire as well, if he willed it. "How did you do it?"

"I just thought about it and-"

Mikael lets out a frustrated growl, picking up the nearest available thing to throw which was a vase at the wall. The ceramic falls to the floors in a thousand pieces and Kol stiffens, waiting for the blow that will come his way now. But it doesn't. Instead Mikael turns to him with a look of a desperate, angry man.

"You're cursed."

"What?"

"Our family is cursed," Mikael's eyes close in shame as he explains. "My grandfather was the thirteenth son of this kingdom and knowing he could never inherit, he killed all his brothers and then his father. Our lineage has been cursed ever since."

"I'm cursed." Kol lets out a breath even as he feels like his lungs are about to explode. "Is there no cure?"

"There is none," Mikael walks slowly towards him, his hands much gentler on his shoulders this time. More comforting than punishing. "Listen to me, Kol. You need to conceal what you are."

Kol can only stare at his father as he continues. "If they ever find out what you are, what you can do, they will destroy you."

"Who?"

He feels his heart sinking, a hole in his chest trying to swallow up everything inside.

"Everyone," Mikael drops his hands from his shoulders to grasp his wrists in a firm grip. "No one can know."

"Rebekah-"

"I'll take care of that." Mikael's grip tightens on his wrist until he can feel his bones creak he winces. "Remember, no one can know what you are."

He can only nod. "Yes, father."

By his sixteenth birthday, Kol's secret is the best kept one in the castle. Little accidents here and there are dealt with quickly. Servants disappearing and never seen of again, scars on the skin of Rebekah's back when they're father burned her with candle wax until she agrees wholeheartedly that the little tricks she's seen her brother do are all the fanciful imagination of an eleven-year-old, and angry scars on Kol's back from a whip or belt when he can't control his ability.

"Control it," His father would hiss at him with each lash to his bleeding back. "No one can know."

And he bites his tongue, trying to control the pain. His skin is feverish and clammy as the candle's song the only thing keeping him sane when his father finally leaves. Rebekah doesn't come to his room, hiding in hers and nothing making a sound. He wakes up in the morning with dried blood on the torn skin of his back and tastes ashes in his mouth.

Some nights when it's so horrible, he has trouble breathing, he dreams of a world on fire. The whole world in flames, burning around him and there's nothing but heat and he walks among the chaos like a god. And he wakes up on sweaty and bloody sheets, scorched marks on the floor and ashes by his feet.

His parents need to attend the wedding of a royal family and they bid their children goodbye in the foyer. It's cold and distant as expected. Esther goes as far to hug a quiet and solemn Rebekah who stays still with the fallow affection. His mother merely nods at him and he ignores her, familiar resentment brimming in his chest.

With balled fists he chants the words his father made him bleed for - Control it. No one can know.

Mikael with an uncharacteristic gentle touch pats Rebekah's blonde head and she stiffens and tries to pull away like a frightened animal. He wants to touch her and comfort her but she's just as scared of his touch. She hates warmth and fire. She never wants to feel it if she had to.

Finally, his father's hands are on his shoulders and what an outsider would think was a gesture of fondness but is really a warning. The grip so strong his muscles ache and his father's intense stare locked unto his, forbidding him to flee. His smile is falsely congenial. "Remember what I said, son."

Control it. No one can now.

He nods, tense and his father releases him. He and Rebekah watch their parents leave, the doors of the castle closing like a tomb. He shivers but not because of the cold as he never feels it and looks to his sister who's muttering something under hear breath. "What are you saying?" He asks.

"I'm praying," She tells him with her sweet, small voice. "That it'll finally end."

"What?"

"All of it. Him. Them." She finally looks up at him with her blank green eyes. "You."

He swallows, dark little emotions clogging up his throat and chest cavity and he gives her a hollow smile. "Yeah? Me too."

The castle is quiet for the next few days until a messenger interrupts their dinner one night to tell them the ship their parents were on has sunk and he thanks the messenger and watches Rebekah's reaction. His sister stills and then returns to her meal as if nothing at all is amiss. He follows her example and drinks some wine that tastes too sweet for his tastes. When Rebekah starts laughing hysterically, he swallows slowly and pours himself another glass.

"It's over," She breathes out with a sigh of cruel relief. She smiles at him and it's too cracked and bright for the moment, it makes him feel ill. "Will you kindly pass the salt, brother?"

His coronation day is something he almost dreads. Two years without his father hissing at and tormenting him and yet he still doesn't feel free. While he grows more withdrawn, Rebekah becomes reckless and wild. She sneaks out of the castle to dance around the bonfire with nameless boys, kisses guards behind tapestries and screams at him for the smallest things.

He ignores her, despite what the advisors are telling him. They want her back to the dignified and meek princess she was when their father was there to beat it into her. But he wants even less to be like his father as he does to try and control his sister. Because at night he can still hear her cry through the walls and he still dreams of a burning world.

An hour before the coronation he's staring up at his father's portrait, Mikael's intense gaze and cruel smirk captured with horrific accuracy. He wants to have it taken down, ripped to pieces and thrown into the sea where his father's remains are lost. But he knows he can't do that and for a moment he imagines it on fire, smoke trailing up the frame, the portrait blackening into ash until there's nothing but an empty frame. He stiffens when he realizes his thoughts have come true.

The wall behind it and the frame are mildly scorched but mostly there is no cause for alarm except for the smoke in the air. He breathes in as he tries to control the mantra, his father's voice echoing. Control it. No one can know.

He pushes away thoughts of the castle on fire and walks away quickly, his balled fists smoking as he inhaled and exhaled, trying to get a grip on himself again.

The coronation is mostly anticlimactic, a room full of royals and nobles come to see the new king of Mikaelson. There are many princesses and young noblewomen, their parents hoping for an alliance and that Kol would pick one to be his queen. He finds most of them insufferable, he realizes later at the ball when he's pushed into dancing with some of them. He finally has enough when Princess Katherine whispers the dirtiest things in his ear and pushes her away, leaving her on the dance floor and not caring how it looks.

He decides he's put enough of an appearance and tries to head for the doors but Rebekah stops him abruptly grabbing unto his arm and spinning him around. He glares at her in irritation especially when he sees she's clinging to some older man. "Kol," She giggles. "This is Marcel Gerard. He's a knight of Crescent Isles and we're getting married!"

"What?" He stares at her in pure disbelief. "Married?"

"Yes!" Rebekah exclaims in her giddiness. "We just met tonight but we're in love! And since you're the king now, you can give us your blessing and-"

"No!" He barks out with such ferocity, the entire ballroom goes quiet. "You will not marry him."

Rebekah looks furious, matching his own. "And why not?"

"Because I say so," Kol tells her, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from Marcel's touch. "You are my sister and under my warden. You will do as I say and if I say you cannot marry some riffraff you just met then you will not."

Angry tears ready to fall she pushes him away with all her might. "I hate you! You just don't want to be happy!"

Kol wants to growl, finally seeing the scene they're making and tries to stop her hysterical screams. "Rebekah-"

"You're just like father!"

He stops at that, starting at her in shock and disbelief. She finally realizes what she's just said and looks so guilty he wants to laugh. So he does and it is low and empty. "Fine, Rebekah. Do as you like." He tells her before turning away.

"Wait! Kol!"

He stops at the door and faces the room full of royalty and nobility watching the scene with apprehension and masked delight. "Thank you for coming, everyone. I hope you enjoyed the show!"

And with that he leaves, the guards wisely keeping out of his way.

News spread quickly about the events of his coronation ball. Kol lets them talk. Servants and guards cower in his wake and his advisors whispering behind his back. Rebekah tries to talk to him several times but is always deterred by his guards.

Eventually she sneaks into his room one night and he turns away from the view of his window as she enters. He says nothing as she closes the door quietly behind her, preferring to watch her movements. She's nervous and tense and dressed in a loose white nightgown that reminds him of their younger days. The nostalgia makes him speak.

"What do you want, Rebekah?"

She flinches at his brisk tone and her jittery hands clutch the skirts of her nightgown. "I…I came to apologize."

He says nothing in return and she takes it as her cue to continue.

"I didn't mean what I said about…about you being like father," She swallows and wets her dry lips. "I was upset because I thought I could find happiness in Marcel after years of….of torment in this castle.I just wanted to escape."

He understands that more than anything else. As even with the monster in their lives gone, his memory haunts them at night. The echo of his voice in the halls sometimes almost drives him mad. And could he blame his sister from wanting to leave it all behind?

"If you want to leave then who am I to stop you?" He smiles at her even though it's pained. "But you're a princess and you can't just marry some nameless knight. Are you even sure he is who he says he is?"

"Honestly, no." Rebekah laughs at her own folly. "That is quite stupid, isn't it? Marrying some stranger?"

Kol nods, feeling lighter than he has in a while and goes to his desk, motioning for her to come over. He takes out three portraits of young men for her to see. "I've been talking with the advisors about marriage prospects for you. There are three princes who are near your age and would benefit the kingdom."

She frowns and he can almost read her thoughts. His sister never quite accepted the truth that women in their world are traded as cattle for money and titles. He smiles at her and pats her nose making her roll her eyes. "Which one have you chosen then?"

"I haven't," His grins widens at her shock. "I wanted you to choose. I'm not the one marrying them."

Her answering smile feels like the dawn. Her gratitude is a different kind of burning and he remembers nights in this room, teaching her how to waltz. He tucks stray blonde curls behind her ear as he tells her, "Their kingdoms are far from here. You may never even have to see this place again if you don't have to."

"Maybe I'll want to," She replies. "Just to annoy my insufferable older brother."

He laughs and shakes his head. "I might actually miss you."

After Kol's made arrangements for Rebekah's betrothal to Prince Stefan of Salvatore, Kol busies himself with his duties as king. He knows running a kingdom is no easy task and he buries himself in his duties. And when he has the rare spare hour or two, he tries to research on his familial curse. He has books shipped in and speaks to supposed 'experts' on the matter but comes up blank.

Rebekah's departure for Salvatore is coming near and Kol will be lying if he says it doesn't make him antsy. Salvatore really is quite far away and would require his sister to travel by ship and he worries incessantly about pirates and storms that he almost wants to break of the betrothal contract so she doesn't have to leave. But he can see the change in her. She's happier than she has in years as she's finally far away from everything that reminds her of their father.

And how cruel can he be to take that away from her?

The day finally comes and he stands at the dock, saying his goodbyes to the last of his family. Rebekah hugs him, something she hasn't done since she was ten and he hugs her back, more fiercely than he wants anyone to see. He's afraid for her in so many ways and also for himself. He's afraid that when she's gone, he's going to lose control of himself and the world on fire he dreams of becomes reality.

She kisses his cheek as he reluctantly releases her from the embrace. Her smile is like the sun and he's going to miss it for more than anything. She cheekily curtsies at him. "Farewell, your Grace."

He watches her ship float away until he can no more.

The moment Kol dreads finally comes when he wakes to his room on fire. He doesn't remember much of his nightmare except he knows it has to be about his father. The guards rush into the room, trying to get to him but the walls of flame keep them at bay. He watches the fire consume everything in sight, rising to the ceiling and charring everything black.

The heat in the room doesn't bother him, it never has and even as the guards cough from the smoke, he can feel none of it. An odd contentment overcomes him and he remembers a world in flames. He watches the flames, the song louder than ever, and lets it grow, lets it destroy everything in sight.

Burn everything. He stands, immune to the fire. Burn it all down.

The guards have gone and screams echo in the air as they and the servants try to escape the chaos that is overtaking the castle. He walks down burning hallways without fear. Encouraging the madness as everything turns to ash and he feels power like nothing before. He feels like a god.

Control it. He can remember his father's words. No one can know.

He lets the flames rise and lets everything go.

There's nothing left of the castle but debris and ash. And as he walks in the rain, the droplets evaporating as they touch his skin. He walks with no real direction, avoiding people as much as possible. The euphoria from burning down the castle has faded away and he's left with no place to go. No family, no home and no name.

A king of ash, cursed for his whole existence. He wanders through forests and ups the icy mountains. He never feels cold and the frosty winds don't bother him. He stops at the top as he gazes down at the kingdom he's left behind.

Right where the castle used to be is a charred black structure. The sight is stark against the overall vivacity that surrounds it. Like an ink of death among a page of life, comparable to him in a way. He sits down as the ice around him begins to melt.

"Hey, you!" He nearly jumps at the voice, turning around to look at the newcomer. Covered in snow clothes, a thick white parka that makes her almost blend in with the scenery, a blonde girl stares down at him suspiciously. "What are you doing up here?"

"Taking a vacation," He answers glibly.

She narrows her blue eyes at him and takes in his face and clothes all covered in soot. It's a wonder his clothes didn't burn off during the fire but he chalks it up to odd miracles. "You're from the castle that burned down?"

He raises his eyebrows at her. "You know about that?"

"We saw the flames last night. They were huge!" She shakes her head. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Yeah, well, I'm gifted." He smirks at her in confused face. "I did it. I burned it all down."

She looks more wary now, gripping the spear she's holding tighter. "And why would you do that?"

"I didn't like being king, I guess." He gets to his feet. "Well, it was nice meeting you, miss. But it seems I need to find another mountain to be alone."

He starts to walk away but she catches up to him. "Wait, wait, if you're the king, why would you burn your own castle down? I mean, that makes absolutely no sense to me."

"Oh yeah?" He amuses her despite himself. "And why is that?"

"I mean, there you are, leaving in the lap of luxury, and then you just throw it all away?" The blonde frowns at him. "What's wrong with you?"

He sighs and stops, turning around, figuring the only way to make this strange mountain girl to go away is to scare her. "This is why."

His hand on fire has her yelping and stepping back. "What the hell?"

"I'm cursed. It's an inherited thing," He shrugs. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

"What's your name?" She's following him again, waddling in her snow shoes. "Cursed how?"

"Kol. My name is Kol." He grits out. Why won't this girl just go away? "My great grandfather killed his brothers and father and his lineage has been cursed ever since. I'm the lucky one to have it manifest this way."

"Is there no cure?"

Bloody son of a….

Scowling, he turns around and tells her. "True love's kiss."

He should feel bad about lying to her but she's really annoying him. He just wants to be alone to ponder his lonesome existence for the rest of his life and she's getting in the way. Who the hell is she anyway? And who lives up a snowy mountain besides polar bears?

"Polar bears don't live up mountains. And there aren't any in this kingdom." The girl tells him, alerting him to the fact he'd been speaking aloud. Damn it. "My name's Caroline, by the way."

"Charming," He returns sarcastically.

'Caroline' follows Kol until he's already dizzy from exertion and hunger. She guides him into an empty cave and tries to make a fire with some stones. She stops and turns to him after a few failed attempts, shivering despite her layers of clothing. "Do you mind?"

He rolls his eyes and a fire sparks to life. She sighs contentedly as she starts to warm herself up. Of course, now that her teeth aren't chattering she's back to talking once more. "So, don't you ever feel cold?"

"No," He can feel her eyeing him in his thin layer of clothes, not all bothered by the climate. "I never get colds either."

She frowns at him. "You're so lucky."

He stares her in disbelief. Him? Lucky? He never thinks himself lucky when all his 'gifts' have given him is pain and misery.

"I'm not lucky," He tells her. "I'm cursed."

She gives him a dry look. "I sell ice for a living. If I had your ability to never get cold and start a bonfire without moving a muscle, I'm good for the rest of my life."

"Well, of course, you'd say that. You're not the one cursed."

"Yeah and I would've probably handled it better than you," She shakes her head. "Burning down a castle? Do you even care if somebody got hurt?"

Guilt starts to make its appearance. Ah, no, he hasn't. He assumes everyone got out fine. Surely, no one died in his nervous breakdown, right?

"See?" She smiles at him smugly. "You're just a whiny royal brat who'd rather be all woe-is-me than see how awesome your powers can be."

He takes offense at that, wanting to make that bonfire rise until she too is burning like the fish she takes out of her bag and starts cooking on the flames. Still he holds himself back because he may be an arsonist but he's not a murderer. Or at least, he doesn't think he is. He really hopes no one got hurt in the fire.

"Here, King Hothead," She hands him one of the fish on the stick. "I know it's not your usual standards but since you burned your house down, you don't really get a right to complain."

He wants to retort but it aches him to realize she's right. He takes a bite out of the fish gingerly and gives her the evil eye. And she responds by sticking her tongue out at him like a child. "Really? Are you five?"

"Really? Arson? Are you a criminal?" She returns without missing a bit.

He scowls at her some more.

Kol somehow is convinced to go down the mountain to visit Caroline's 'friends', so-called 'experts' on curses. Caroline explains that they're witches and that they took her in when she was very young after her parents died. They treat her like family and are very good at magic. Probably even figure out a cure for his curse for him.

He rolls his eyes, a habit he seems inclined to do around this blonde a lot.

The small village that greets him looks like any other village he's seen with wooden houses, men and women working as children run around. But the moment they see Caroline they stop what they're doing and greet her warmly and enthusiastically. Not used to seeing families show affection to one another, he stands uncomfortable at the sidelines, wondering if he can just sneak away and-

"And this is Kol!" Caroline rushes to him and pulls him into the crush of people like a lamb for the slaughter. "He's the king and he burned down the castle last night."

Shocked stares are an understatement and Kol wants to melt into a puddle.

"He's cursed, you see." Caroline explains in that really appropriate bright tone. "Maybe we can help him?"

An elderly dark-skinned lady appears and puts her hand on Caroline's shoulder, smiling at her warmly. "Why? Is he special to you, dear?"

Caroline flushes red as Kol looks appalled. "No, no, Sheila, we just met! I just want to help the guy, you know? He's kind of pathetic."

"I can hear you." Kol tells her hotly and she ignores him.

Sheila chuckles and pats Caroline's blonde head. "Oh, you sweet child. You always had a penchant for inviting trouble." She gives Kol an appraising glance. "And this time you've hit gold."

Kol decides he's had enough of this madness and tries to escape but Caroline tugs him back with more strength than a teenage blonde should have. "Please, Sheila? He's an idiot. He needs the help."

"I can hear you!"

Caroline turns to him with an annoyed glare. "Yes, I know. And you are an idiot. That's established."

He's contemplating strangling her when Sheila laughs and so do many of the people around him, looking very amused.

"He's a bit of a fixer-upper, admittedly," Sheila glances down at Caroline's hand on his arm, preventing his escape. "But you two are quite adorable."

They both are appalled at that. "We are-"

"Not cute!"

"At all!"

"They even finish each other's sentences." Someone in the crowd coos and Kol promises death upon that person.

"We are not a couple, Sheila," Caroline insists. "I just met him."

"Sure, sure, honey," Sheila waves her off, obviously not believing her. "Now, what's this about a curse?"

A little while later, they sat in Sheila's house, drinking tea as Sheila explains to them the only way to break the curse is-

"True love's kiss?" Caroline gaps at her before turning to Kol. "I thought you were messing with me about that?"

"I was!" Kol returns. "Bloody hell, this isn't a fairytale. This is my life."

"Mm-hmm. And to end your troubles you need to kiss your true love," Sheila tells him, gesturing with a 'go-on' gesture at the,. "Go ahead. Kiss already."

They grimace and shake their head.

"There is no way she's my true love," Kol asserts. "She sells ice for a living, smells like fish and talks too much."

"Hey!' Caroline exclaims. "I can hear you!"

"Yes, I know. And you are annoying. That's established." He grins at her mockingly. "I'm a king. My true love wouldn't be some mountain-dwelling commoner."

Caroline looks ready to throttle him but Sheila intervenes by throwing an apple at Kol which he catches easily. She hands him a small knife next. "You want a clue about your true love? Start peeling."

"Wait, that superstition is real?"

He frowns at the green apple in his hand. Seriously, this is how he breaks the curse? Peeling apples and kissing some girl? How has his life become this?

"Just start peeling, Dragon King," Caroline grumbles.

He sends her another glare but does as she says.

"No." Caroline shakes her head. "No way."

Kol's sentiments are pretty much the same as they stare at the apple peel spelling out 'C' nefariously if apple peels could be evil. He imagines this one to be because the devil must have it out for him. He looks suspiciously at Sheila as if this is her doing and then back at the demented apple peel. He wants to set it on fire.

Caroline grabs him in panic and demands, "Do you know anyone else whose name starts in a 'C'?"

"Well, there's Princess Katherine…"

"Her name starts with a 'C'?"

"With a 'K' but I'll make her change the spelling of her name and it'll work out."

Caroline deflates like an air balloon stabbed repeatedly with gusto. She turns away from him and looks to Sheila with desperation. "I can't be his true love, Sheila. He's clearly a psychopath!"

"I take offense to that-"

Caroline ignores him. "He's an arsonist and probably a murder. He probably sets kittens on fire for fun!"

"I do not!"

She still ignores him. "Can the fates really be that cruel to pair me up with pyromaniac? What have I done to deserve this?"

Kol's decides he has enough of her wailing and complaining. "Look, I didn't choose you either, Blondie!"

Caroline turns to him and crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm not kissing you. You can just be cursed forever. I don't care."

Kol stares at her in disbelief. The nerve of this woman! "Fine! Your breath smells of fish, anyway!"

"Well, your breath smells like smoke!"

"Children," Sheila cuts in. "If you can't play nice, you can't play together."

Caroline shakes her head and stomps out of Sheila's house, muttering to herself. Kol watches her go, imagining throwing her into a lake when he notices Sheila chuckling at their antics. "This village hasn't seen such excitement in a while," The old woman snorts. "Please, stay as long as you like, your Highness."

Kol gradually learns to like the village and its people. The villagers are kind albeit a bit odd. Random acts of magic that disconcerted him at the beginning became fascinating. And they never once look at him like he's a freak.

If anything, they take advantage of his curse and treat him like a human torch, asking him to start fires needed for housework and village work instead of having to do it themselves. He doesn't really mind as it's easy for him. The kids in particular find him enthralling and ask him to do the little tricks he used to do for Rebekah when they were young. He's never felt freer.

He and Caroline have an unspoken rule to avoid each other at all cost. And this works out for the most part until the entire village conspires to get them together. Every time Caroline tries to leave to go back to her mountain, people persuade her to stay by all sorts of means. The children at one point tie her up to a post and refuse to free her until she agrees to stay for another fortnight.

There are such lovely people in this village. And ridiculously persistent ever since Sheila tells them that Kol and Caroline are 'soul mates'. Thus, comes several moments in which Kol finds himself in situations with Caroline by the wicked plans of the witches. Working together for menial labor is fine but asking him to get some water from the lake where Caroline is bathing is not fine.

Kol drops his bucket at the sight of Caroline in all her naked glory and the blonde squeaks as she tries to cover her chest which he's already gotten an eyeful of. She turns around which just ends up giving him a view of her back. "Kol! Leave!"

He snaps out of himself and picks up the bucket from the ground. He runs back to the village like the devil is on his feels. His red face causes the conspiring witches to laugh and he glares hotly at all of them. This needs to stop.

When Kol tells the witches he needs to leave, they give him the same treatment as they did to Caroline. Kol is chaffing from the ropes tied around him and he really could just burn off easily but he's afraid of accidentally burning the kids. Those annoying little buggers that he adores but also wants to throw into a bottomless pit. He bristles as they stare him down with youthful faces that should not be as intimidating as they do.

Caroline laughs at the sight of him and he glares at her to free him. This is all her fault.

"No. I'm not helping you if you're just gonna be mean again," She starts to walk away but he stops her.

"Please!" He winces as his pride jumps into aforementioned bottomless pit. "Caroline, please help me."

Caroline grins smugly and pushes through the pack of feral children to cut the ropes off him with a bone knife she always carries with her. He sighs in relief as the ropes drop to the ground.

"There. Was that so hard?" Caroline says to him and he rolls his eyes at her. She jabs him with the handle of the bone knife. "What do we say when someone does something nice for us? Come on, all those tutors didn't teach you manners?"

He grinds his teeth but concedes. "Thank you…Caroline."

She shrugs with a bright grin. "No problem."

She walks away and Kol looks at the children all smiling at him like the spawn of Satan they are. He regards them with caution especially when little Bonnie steps up and says, "You like her."

He narrows his eyes at the Devil's children and carefully backs away.

Kol spends a lot of time with the blacksmith, a young man a few years younger than him named Jeremy. Kol never thinks he'd develop at interest in becoming a metalsmith but considering it is one of the few professions where fire can help create something than destroy it, it makes some sense. Jeremy is more than willing to teach him and Kol enjoys it though it's hard. It helps that he's virtually fireproof and often finishes work covered in a layer of his own sweat.

He and Jeremy are hard at work when Caroline enters the shed, a small package wrapped in a white cloth in her arms. "Sorry to intrude," She says. "Jer, your mom asked me to bring these to you."

She hands the package to Jeremy who stops his work to open it. He grins brightly at the sight of his mom' sugar cookies and takes a big bite out of one. "Oh, thanks, Care! These are my favorite."

Caroline smiles back at him before looking at Kol who's watching his friend with a bemused grin. He knows by now that Jeremy could eat all those cookies by himself and has no ideas for sharing. He turns to Caroline when she approaches him, fishing a stolen cookie from her pocket and hands it to him with a conspiring grin. "Eat fast," She mouths at him and he smiles back at her.

He devours the treat quickly as he watches her leave.

He likes to go to the lake for a late night swim and wash off the grime from work. He's mostly assured to be alone and he enjoys the quiet until he's fingers wrinkle like an old man's. One night though as he's cast in shadows, he sees the light from a lamp as someone comes near. He keeps to the shadows as the newcomer appears.

It's Caroline. Of course. And he wonders how the witches even know about his nightly swims when Caroline unrobes. He knows he should've made himself known or looked away but he suddenly finds himself incapable of speech.

The only light is from the lamp and the yellow glow casting over Caroline's bare skin is almost hypnotic. She toes the water before sinking into it, her pleased sigh making him heady. He closes his eyes and wills himself to move, to get out of the lake and forget this ever happened. But then Caroline bumps into him as she's swimming.

She screams when she sees him, trying to cover herself and get away at the same time. He glares down at the water around him and wishes he is somewhere else. "What are you doing here?" She demands from several feet away, behind a rock. "Why are you here in the middle of the night?"

"Out for a swim," He answers miserably. "I do this every night."

"Oh," She squeaks like a mouse. "I-I should go."

"No, you can stay." He tries to look anywhere but at her. "I'll go. I've been here long enough anyway."

He gets to shore and ignores Caroline's gasp when he rises from the water and sees his back. He knows what she's seeing, the marks his father left on him. Dozens of scars, small and large crisscross on his skin. He gathers his clothes, dresses and leaves without a word.

Caroline appears again the next night and thankfully he's already finished swimming this time and already has his trousers on. His back is still in view for her and he hurries to put on his tunic but she stops him. Her fingers are gentle as they trace the numerous scars on his back. He's frozen as she wordlessly appraises the damage his father has done to him.

His eyes tear up without his consent and he tries to block out the memories of his father's cruelty. Caroline's lips just below his nape makes him shiver and he holds his breath as he trails soft, barely-there kisses to his shoulder. He sighs when her arms wrap around his middle in a tender hug. He closes his eyes and lets her hold him, her eyelashes fluttering against his skin.

"Who did this to you?" Her lips murmur so quietly he almost doesn't hear her.

"My father," His voice is flat but he trembles when she holds him tighter like her touch could make all the bad memories go away. He never likes to talk about this, he and Rebekah both, but he finds himself speaking before he can really think about it. "He- He was a cruel man. He wanted me to make sure I always remembered my curse."

Her chin was on his shoulder now, her lips pressing a kiss to his neck and he shudders.

"Control it," His voice cracks a little. "No one can know."

But now everyone knows. And he doesn't know what to do anymore. The iron-clad control beat into him manifesting in a burning castle. Control for him has always been subjective in the end.

Caroline turns him around slowly so he's looking down at her soft blue eyes. She reaches up and pecks him lightly on the lips. He responds quickly, pulling her into a deeper kiss that leaves them both gasping. She sighs as he kisses her neck, his hot breath making her press herself against him as shudders wreck through her.

"True love's kiss," He chuckles into her skin. "Is this what this is?"

"There's no such thing." She pulls him back into a kiss, nipping his lower lip and humming lightly as her tongue flicked against his teeth. He lets her lead the kiss and doesn't object when she undoes his trousers.

Kol wakes the next morning in his bed at Sheila's house, Caroline in his arms and peacefully dozing away. Her blonde hair glinted in the streaks of sunlight from the window and he can't remember ever feeling so content. He presses a kiss to the crown of her head and she murmurs something in her sleep, making him smile. Is this true love? He wonders.

The smells of Sheila making breakfast downstairs rouse him from bed and he carefully untangles himself from Caroline's embrace and dresses. He climbs down the ladder and to where Sheila is making a stew that smells absolutely mouthwatering. He takes a seat at the table as she cooks, eyeing the view outside the window and trying to look nonchalant. Surely, Sheila couldn't know how he spent his night, right?

"You seem cheery," The old woman smiles at him, obviously his attempts at hiding his good mood are futile. "I see you have a guest upstairs."

He looks at her sheepishly. "How did you know?"

"I'm a mother. We always know these things," Sheila hands him a cup of warm milk. "And Caroline talks in her sleep."

Kol grins and takes a sip of the warm beverage. He looks up as Sheila takes the seat opposite him at the table, her hand reaching for his. She looks serious but kind as she tells him, "You treat her right, Kol. You may be a royal but I am still a witch and I can still make you hurt."

He laughs but nods. "Of course."

Sheila seems pleased and moves to get back to her cooking. Kol watches her for a minute before speaking again. "I just have one question – how come I'm still cursed?"

Sheila doesn't mind him as she's stirring her stew. "Who says you still are?"

He raised a fiery finger. "Well, this."

"Oh, Kol," Sheila laughs. "That was never your curse."

He stares at her in disbelief. "What? But you said true love's kiss would break the curse!"

"And it did," Sheila smiles at him warmly. "You accepted who you are."

"But-"

He gapes at her as she continues to laugh at him. All this time? All he needed to do was accept himself and his gifts? But how was he even to know that?

Sheila finally takes pity on him and explains. "You're descended from a unique bloodline, giving chosen members of your family specific gifts. There was this queen who had similar powers but with ice if you can recall."

He closes his eyes as a headache began to form. "Then my powers aren't the curse but the curse is-"

"You're a bastard of a father made you think what and who you are is wrong so you believed it so, preventing you from fully realizing your potential."

Kol suddenly really wants to lay down and he stands up to return to bed but Caroline has just climbed down the ladder and is smiling brightly at them.

"Good morning, Sheila!" She's a morning person, apparently. "How are you today?"

"Just great, Caroline." Sheila points at a shell-shocked Kol. "He isn't, though."

Kol looks almost catatonic as he stares at nothing in particular. It immediately made her worry. Caroline rushes to him and tries to snap him out of it as Sheila chuckles to herself. It certainly is never boring in this village anymore.