Disclaimer : Characters belong to their respectful owners
Fandom : The Originals
Rating : K+
Pairing : Kolijah – Elijah Mikaelson x Kol Mikaelson (sort of)
Genres : fanfiction, alternate universe, humor, fluff
Characters: Freya Mikaelson, Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, Kol Mikaelson, Hope Mikaelson and many others
Summary: An AU in which Kol is resurrected by Freya, in the form of… a baby.
Inspired by whatevenkol’s idea and given permission to write this story
One Magic Mishap (?!)
The blood moon hung high in the sky, promising a huge source of magic energy to be harvested, the necessary ‘ingredients’ were gathered, and the three Mikaelsons were ready for the ritual to bring their lost brother back.
“I need you two to clear your minds,” Freya instructed her brothers as she stepped inside the hexagram drawn by salt, Elijah and Klaus following suit. Fire flared up in respond to her power, encaging them.
“Picture Kol in your heads, see his face, hear his voice, feel the familial connection between you and him.”
The siblings sat in a triangle, holding each other’s hands. As Freya began chanting in witch language, winds rose outside the burning hexagram, gradually growing in strength to become gales.
Outside the hexagram it was one kind of storm, inside it was another.
For hours on end they were caught in the magic of the spell surrounding them and the scattered memories of Kol. Most of them weren’t exactly pleasant – bodies piled up, blood galore and their brother grinning psychotically from ear to ear, so they had to dig deeper and deeper into their thousand-year-old minds for relatively less violent ones. Going back a millennium, when Kol had been a mischievous boy with a knack for magic tricks, before all hell broke loose. None of them knew exactly how long had passed until Freya’s chant came to a stop, and a burst of energy forced them to come apart.
“Did it work?” asked Klaus. Beads of sweat were clinging onto his forehead while his breath came out a puff of white smoke.
“Be patient, Niklaus.” Freya’s reply came between heavy pants. There were traces of blood at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Her lips trembled as she spoke, and her face was pale as moonlight.
“Are you all right, Freya?” Elijah asked with a touch of concern, offering her his handkerchief to wipe away her blood and sweats.
“I’m fine, only a little overloaded. I believe the spell has succeeded. Look.”
On her cue, the brothers looked at the small altar they had built to lay Kol’s ash. The bowl in which contained the Mikaelson blood was glowing, and then a whip of blue light shot sharply to the sky.
“Follow it,” Freya shouted.
Klaus had already sprung forward while Elijah scooped Freya in his arms and wasted no time in chasing after him.
“For bloody sake, it finally stopped,” Klaus growled.
After leading the three siblings running amok several rounds inside and out the compound, the whip of light had finally settled down on a four-poster bed.
The siblings took careful steps in approaching the bed, their hearts beating in a collective wild rhythm. The blinding blue light faded, revealing a small figure…
“I believe now is the appropriate time for the term ‘OMG’,” said Elijah to neither of his siblings in particular.
And then, unexpectedly yet predictably, a vociferous cry almost burst their hearing.
(To be continued. Maybe.)