Lights Flicker And Fade : Kol Mikaelson [3]

224: Emotionally Stunted and Overdramatic Immortals

a/n: Some of the flashbacks draw on The Awakening mini-series, with new context
lmk what ya think of flashback-Kol lol
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Bea <3

December 1913

It was a striking image that started the war.

Some would argue the fight had already begun. Whether it be through Kol Mikaelson's sudden appearance at witch watering holes, teaching tricks that had elder lesson attendance dwindling, or whether it be because of the rising power of the different wolf packs. Dumas and Labonair always carrying weight, Guerrera up and coming – then the Lamaé family currently in charge of them all.

Making deals and playing business with vampires.

Operating like a council but living far from that.

The wolves and the witches were once aligned. Packs had druids. Relationships like that were how the two species managed to survive. Though, its biggest flaw was that druids served packs.

Why should the young witches and warlocks not opt to learn from a new party?

A vampire claiming to help.

An Original, at that, with access to spells they could only dream of.

That Elijah had once controlled.

Was it Kol's fault the packs panicked at their fading magical protection?

New Orleans ran like a never finished piece of clay, spinning on the dial as they fought thought to mould it in their image. Sitting for a moment, but still turning, melting back down, to start the process all over again. A fake friend, the underlying power of the vampires never really going away, even if the early 1900s made it seem like the wolves were in control. Tearing through the witch families that stood against them.

They hadn't expected their dead to bite back.

Certainly not, to find Adrian Lamaé, their alpha, beneath an eleven-year-old child, howling into the night, deranged golden eyes, yet no shift to match the rest of the pack. Instead, features similar to a woman called Marie Ajan. Far too recognisable after her own attempt to take the families down.

News travelling quickly of the murders.

Leading Klaus Mikaelson into his family home, tossing his youngest brother through the foyer corridor and into The Courtyard.

"What a greeting," Kol picked himself up, "Why hello to you – "

Klaus sped him into the side of the stair railing, a hand on his neck, "What spell did you give her?"

"Her?" Kol simply grinned, "I know a lot of 'hers,' brother. Perhaps you can be a little more – "

"The Ajan woman."

Kol's eyes almost seemed confused.

Almost.

Masked by a wink that only caused Klaus's hold to tighten.

"Kol – "

His brother's foot came up, ramming into his knee, then shoving forward.

Dusting the sleeves of his white shirt down and rolling his eyes, "Haven't we been over that?"

"Her son," Klaus hissed, murky eyes raging, "Lana's father has just been murdered."

"Lana?" Kol played dumb, "Is that the name of the tra – "

Klaus's fist collided with his face, Kol hitting right back. There may have been a century of pause in Klaus's quest to free himself from their mother's curse, but that didn't change the fact he'd somehow slithered into The Crescent Wolf packs good graces, not about to let his little brother destroy it.