It was the Eleventh century. A village of large men were working on wood and preparing to go out to hunt. A young girl and her family were sneaking out of the village to play in the woods. Four girls and two boys were the total. The youngest of the girls falling behind all of them. Unlike her siblings she was not yet a wolf. When they ran they could create miles between them. However, she couldn’t keep up. To make matters worse she had a habit of falling over tree branches. Today was just like all other days. Her siblings were out in front of her and she was nursing a bleeding knee. The girl started to cry. That’s when it happened. Black rain began to pour from the sky. Her siblings shouted in the distance. She herself standing to shout. “Eda, Larkin, Nichol, Royse, Ainsley, Willa!” When no reply came she began to run through the forest. She found herself stopped by a strange woman and the little blonde haired girl by her side. “Who are you?” The woman asked. The young girl gave no response. The woman bent down and smiled at her. When she touched her cheek the black rain stopped. “See. You can trust me. Just tell me your name.” The young girl turned to look at the blonde girl. She looked frightened. Everyone always looked frightened. “I don’t have a name.”
Jazz music played along the French Quarter. The tourists bustled around the street eager to find the best local pastry stand. A young girl of eighteen with raven hair sat outside a small cafe. She was watching the people go by, as if there would soon be one particular person on the street. She turned her head to find a man had suddenly joined her at the table. “Marcellus Gerard, to what do I owe the pleasure?” The man leaned back in his chair. “A new witch in town is required to check in with me. Your coven must of told you that.”
She smiled at him; her eyes turning black for a second. “Not a coven member.” His assurance faded. “Vampire.” The girl simply picked up her tea and took a sip. “In a matter of speaking.” Marcel leaned forward. “Tell me why an old vampire is casually stopping by New Orleans.” She put her tea down. “Old. Don’t you know it’s not polite to guess a woman’s age?” Marcel frowned. “Enough with the games. Vampires that can confuse a witch are very rare.” She smiled at him. “ I see. That’s why you assume I’m old. You’d be right.”
Marcel flagged the waiter over and ordered a bourbon. When the waiter walked away he turned back towards her. “Enough. I am the King of the French Quarter. You must tell me.” The young girl sighed, “First, I have a name. It’s Hildr. Second, I need to find an old friend of mine.” He took a sip of his bourbon. He didn’t seem to like it that much. “Alright Hildr, I’d be happy to find them for you.” She leaned forward onto the table, smiling when Marcel caught her eye. “Would you be so kind, King.”
He apparently didn’t find her funny. “If it gets you out of my city.” She raised her tea cup at him. “Touché. I’m looking for Niklaus.” He leaned back into his chair again. “Klaus Mikaelson, the original. He isn’t here at the moment.” She just smiled at him. “Oh, he is. I can feel him in the city.” The man raised his eyebrow in surprise. “That would be impossible. Klaus’ sire line was broken just a few months a go.”
She pushed her tea cup aside. “Klaus wasn’t my sire. Kol was.” He moved his bourbon away from him. “How does knowing that not make me want to kill you? Kol’s sire line died. Plus, they were all lunatics.” Hildr laughed softly into her hands. “I admit Kol had a preference for interesting individuals, but I am still here. Good thing my sire bond was broken already.” Marcel waved to the waiter to take away their glasses. “Why are you looking for Klaus then?”
Hildr pulled her purse out from around her chair and back onto her lap. “Well that’s my business.” Marcel looked ready to kill her. He really wasn’t a fan of her games. “If Klaus is back in my city it is my business.” She stood up to leave, but he caught her arm. She pulled it off of her. After all she was older then him. “I’ll tell you what Marcellus, when I find Klaus, I’ll let you know where he is.” He looked at her confused. “You would do that?” She nodded her head. “ Of course. I just need some information and then I’ll be on my merry way.”
He stood up. “Maybe I could give you the information you need now.” She laughed. “I know you’re in a rush to get rid of me, but this, I’m afraid, is slightly above your pay grade.” He looked at her smugly. “Try me.” Hildr found the man amusing. He had more confidence then he should have. “I need Kol, Marcellus.” He seem disappointed with her. “You are looking for your sire?”
She smiled at him. “Kol has something of mine. I need it back.” Marcel shook his head in disappointment. “Then you are out of luck. Kol is gone.” She walked a step closer to him. “If Niklaus is near here, why wouldn’t you think Kol is.” He went to step back, but Hildr grabbed his neck. He was stuck in place. “Because I have Klaus trapped behind bricks starving.” She released him and smiled. “So you did know Niklaus was here.” He took a step back from her. “I can’t have you waking him up.” She sighed. “Fine. I’ll just have to wait here until his siblings return.” Marcel looked at her warily. “How am I supposed to believe you won’t break him out?”
She grabbed his chin and pulled him forward to whisper in his ear. “Because I want Kol. Niklaus can die for all I care.” Hildr leaned back. Marcel didn’t seem to know what to do. “You will follow my rules.” She put her hands up, like she was an innocent child. “All of them, my king.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “I am going to have you watched.” Hildr shrugged. “That’s fair,” she turned around to walk away, but stopped for a second. “Do take care of the tea for me then.” Marcel watching her disappear into the crowd. He slammed a few bills down on the table. “Fuck.”
Hildr went from the little cafe to a large house just within the French Quarter. It was seemingly empty. However, she knew it was the house that belonged to the Mikaelson family. The very family who would soon be on their way back into the city. She arranged a chair, a table and a glass of whiskey for herself. She didn’t have to wait long before someone entered the manor. Elijah, Freya and Kol walked into the house a few hours after she had arrived. Elijah grabbing her when Freya yelled stop.
“Hildr. How are you here? You died.” She stood up from the chair. “Oh no, dear sister. I did not.” Elijah turned back around to look at Freya. “Sister?” Kol looked at Hildr. He was fixed on her. “ It’s not what you think. Hildr was a young witch taken in by Dahlia, before she was killed by werewolves.” Kol looked away from her and turned towards Freya. “If she was dead then she would not be sitting in our house.”
Hildr walked past Elijah towards Kol. He was here in front of her again. “You must be Kol.” He smiled at her. “What a smart little dead girl. Too bad she isn’t smart enough to realize I will rip her throat right out.” Hildr ignored the comment. Something that concerned both Elijah and Freya. “Even when I’m here to help Niklaus?” Elijah walked back towards her. “Since when does anyone willingly help Niklaus.” She waved her hands around her in defeat. “Alright, alright. You broke me down. Niklaus is my brother. I am here for family obligation.”
Kol walked towards her, pulling her out from Elijah’s grasp. “That’s it.” He bent down to bite her, but found his head hit an invisible wall. In frustration, Kol turned around to Freya. “It wasn’t me.” She said. “No, it was me.” Hildr said. Kol turned back around to glare at her. Elijah looked at her confused. “Vampires do not keep witch powers.”
She broke her arm out from Kol’s grasp and walked towards the fireplace. It was pitifully empty. “You should tell that to Dahlia.” Elijah walked towards her. “Dahlia made you a vampire?” Hildr shook her head no. “Mother did. Although, Dahlia does/did enjoy warping her spells.” Freya walked forward to join them, leaving Kol alone a few feet back. “Mother?” Hildr smiled. “I told you already. Niklaus is my brother.”
Kol walked forward in agitation. “You can’t be serious. Another sibling from our tramp of a mother.” Elijah frowned at her. “Niklaus’ father was killed.” Hildr nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, because our uncle was the one who murdered Henrik.” Kol grabbed her arm again, this time they could all hear bone breaking. “I would stop talking if I were you.” Elijah pried his hand off of her arm. “Calm down, Kol.” Freya seemed the most confused of all. She had not grown up around her other siblings.
“Why are you here, now?” She asked Hildr. She smiled at her half sister. That was a question she was waiting to hear. “Finally, someone asks the right questions.” Elijah frowned. “ Careful, sister. I’m still debating whether or not to let Kol rip your head right off.” Hildr chuckled. “What happened to family before all, noble Elijah.” Kol took a step forward, but didn’t push any closer after he caught a glimpse of Elijah’s face. “You aren’t family, yet.”
Hildr took a small step back and smiled. “Fair enough. But in the end I still have to save Niklaus.” Elijah didn’t seem to want this conversation to go on much longer. “You still haven’t answered why you would want to save Niklaus.” Hildr looked at Elijah like he was the slow child of the family. “Because he’s my brother and it’s my fault that your father hates him.” Freya took a step forwarded. The poor girl was honestly confused. She just sighed. “Henrik and I were born at the same time. Imagine Niklaus and my father’s surprise when one twin was not his.” Elijah looked dumbfounded. “Two children.” Freya looked over at him. “By two different fathers.”
Kol stamped his feet in irritation. “This is ridiculous. We have more important things to worry about at the moment. Have you forgotten that Marcel is trying to kill us? That we are at war with our own bloody sires.” Hildr turned to Elijah. “Elijah, I promise you I am here to help.” His eyes narrowed. “How?” Hildr smiled. “I know how to reconnect his sire line.” Freya looked at her in shock. “It’s impossible.” Hildr shook her head no. “It’s not now that Davina Claire is dead.” Kol grabbed her throat. “Don’t you dare say her name.” She turned to look at Elijah. He just sighed. “Kol.” Kol dropped his arm. Elijah turning back to face Hildr. “Can you really reconnect his sire line?” She nodded. “I can.”
No one spoke for a moment. They all seemed lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Elijah chose to break the silence. “Why would you help him now?” Hildr’s whole demeanor changed. The childish jokester was gone. “Dahlia saddled me with a very painful curse. It is very similar to the one that was put on Niklaus to suppress his werewolf nature.” Freya looked at her shocked. “You want to break the spell and become a Hybrid?” Hildr nodded. “It is the only way I can save Henrik.”
Elijah looked even more shocked then before. Kol looked as if he was ready to smash all of her bones into pieces. “Henrik never went to the supernatural side. His witch powers never awoke.” Elijah said. Freya looked like she was just being filled in on an old wound. Hildr just nodded her head glumly. “That’s why he reincarnates.” Elijah walked back to the chair and sat down. He poured himself a glass of whiskey. After he downed his first glass he looked back up. “You’ve seen him?”
Hildr walked over to him and knelt in front of him, taking his hands in hers. “Twice.” When no one answered she stood up and continued. “Both of his reincarnations met terrible ends. If this third one dies then a doppelgänger will be born. And no one on this planet wants a doppelgänger of an Original.” Kol walked over to the chair. “Henrik was not an original.” Hildr turned around to face him. “But he can be. The spell our mother cast was on all of her children. It would apply to Henrik and his doppelgängers.”
Elijah looked up at Freya. She seemed lost in thought. “Freya?” She walked over to the chair, unsure. “It’s possible. I wasn’t there when she cast it.” Kol seemed annoyed. “She did put it on our bloodline, but he was never there to drink the blood.” Hildr frowned. “He doesn’t have too. If Freya or him have any of your blood they will be the start of their own sire lines.”
“And again, why do you care about this?” Kol said, as Elijah was silent in the chair. “I care about Henrik. You don’t know the bond of a twin, identical or fraternal.” Elijah finished his second glass of whiskey and looked up. “What do you need to reconnect the sire line?” Hildr looked at Elijah uneasy. “Blood from all the Originals left, a representative token of Davina Claire, Marcel’s blood and time.” Kol looked at Elijah. “How are we supposed to get Marcel’s blood. He hates us at the moment.”
Hildr smiled. “I’ve already run into the new King of New Orleans. He thinks I’m here to wait for my precious sire to show up, the dear psychopathic Kol.” Elijah stood up from the chair. “You told him we were returning. Are you mad?” Hildr put her hand on his shoulder. “ I only confirmed his paranoia. Mikaelson’s always put family first. Besides, in the worst scenario, you all have Rebekah. Marcellus still pines for her.” Freya looked at Elijah. “ We need to get Klaus out of there. He is starving, Elijah.”
He nodded. “ It’s not safe for Haley and Hope, yet. Freya make sure Rebekah knows to keep them out of New Orleans.” Hildr shook her head no. “If you want Niklaus back, Hayley must retake control of the werewolves. A starving and angry Niklaus will go straight for the bloody crown. You may want to protect what you care for personally.” Freya nodded her head. “She has a point.” Elijah looked at Hildr. “She is a child.” She nodded her in sadness. “Hope is the strongest Mikaelson. Her power will only grow. She must be watched and taught, Elijah. Do you want her to come out like the rest of us, or like her mother?” Kol looked at Elijah. “The two of them should have enough power to protect them.” Freya nodded in agreement. “As long as Hope stays in the house.” Elijah just sighed. “Let’s just get Niklaus out of this nightmare.”
They all dispersed to set up the house. Hildr immediately retreating to her room. She had already left a suitcase out. She took out her stack of books, her few clothes, a small picture frame and a pressed vervain flower. Hildr was putting the clothes in the drawers when she heard a knock at the door. She turned around to see Kol in the doorway. His demeanor was completely different then just moments before.
She watched him casually walk into her room. “Why did you tell Marcel that you came from my sire line?” Hildr smiled nervously. “You tend to sire interesting monsters. It’s an easy cover.” He strode even closer to her. “I’m not buying that.” Hildr wrapped her arms around herself and smiled sadly. “Do you remember the old village?” He nodded his head. “I do.”
She looked at Kol and for a second he thought he saw the image of a girl he knew. “Unlike Niklaus I was raised in the werewolf village. It was a much different place. Not much love, just anger and pack loyalty.” Kol looked at her irritated. His moods swung so easily. “Is that supposed to move me?” She shook her head no. “ No, but there was a time you moved me.”
Kol moved the three steps he was away towards her. He noticed how nervous she looked. “We met?” She shook her head no. “No. I watched my uncle kill Henrik. I was unable to move. Father had ordered me to not interfere with you guys. But I wanted to. I cried in the trees as I watched Niklaus carry Henrik home.” Kol seemed to have reached his boredom stage. “What does that have to do with me?” She shook her head no. “Do you remember the young girl you used to play around with in my village?” Kol smiled fondly. “Astrid was a sweet wolf.” Hildr looked at him. “I was in the woods when you tore her limb from limb, just because she was from the village that killed your little brother.”
Kol laughed. “Well it was natural to assume she tattled to her father.” Hildr smiled. “Oh, she did, but not about Niklaus and Henrik watching us turn. She had told her father that she loved you.” Kol rolled his eyes. “How poetic of her.” Hildr looked straight at Kol. “I admired your strength that night. It broke my bond to the pack. Instead, the bond I have with the Mikaelson family came through. It was then I realized the truth. Killed my uncle later that night.”
He cracked up laughing. “How sweet for you. What does that have to do with why you’re really here?” She sighed. “Henrik’s reincarnations always meet their end because of me.
It was the eleventh century. A young newly turned Kol stood in the middle of a clearing. In front of him sat a crying girl. “Please, Kol. I did’t say a word. I love you.” She cried. He walked towards her. Kol’s eyes completely black. The girl on the ground scared. “I love you.” He simply picked her up by her hair. “Then why would you go and tell Daddy about my brothers.” She started to cry. “I didn’t. I swear.” Kol heard a noise in the tree and he looked away to see a young girl standing in one watching them. The feeling of warm hands touching his face tore his attention back to her. “Kol. Believe me.”
Kol looked down at her disappointed. “Now how I can believe the word of a liar. A little birdie in a tree told me you went and told your father about me.” She tried to turn her head, but he wouldn’t let her. “It’s not polite to look away.” She began to kick her legs and hit his arm. “Let me go, Kol. I will prove it to to you if you let me go.” He decided he could let her go, by throwing her across the field and into a tree. Patiently he waited for her to sit up. “Are you done lying?”
She leaned against the tree and pulled out a tiny pink flower. “I saved this flower, because you gave it to me. Can’t you believe me. I love you, even after you have become this.” Kol looked up at the trees. He could see the girl laughing. When he looked back at the girl beneath the tree she was holding out the flower. Kol walked forward and took the flower from her hand. “Why would a flower prove anything to me. I think your chances have been used up, Astrid.” She watched him drop the flower.
“Kol. No! I will help you all survive. I will tell you anything.” He walked towards her smiling. When he got close to her he bent down and bit into her neck. She started screaming. Instead of being merciful he decided to tear her limb from limb. Controlling his hunger was extremely difficult for him. It was easier just to eat until full and then ensure no one could tell whose body it was or what happened to the body. When he was done he looked up. The girl in the tree was gone.
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