A chance meeting a handful of years ago in his running from his own father had Kol meeting Sigurd, and the youngest Mikaelson boy had managed to keep tabs on his friend. When rumors started swirling that Ragnar had died and his sons were rallying and heading to England to avenge his death, Kol found himself nearby.
Going on a mission to avenge his father's death? Not something Kol can relate to at all. Hard to picture, considering Mikael has been on the hunt for Kol and the rest of his siblings for decades now, with every intention of murdering all of them. Such hypocrisy, really. He and Esther had made their children what they all are now, it's not even a little fair to think that now they've simply decided they're abominations that need to be extinct from this world. They certainly took the 'I brought you into this world and I can take you out' addage a bit too far, in Kol's opinion.
Alas. It wasn't Mikael anyone was vying to save the memory of. Ragnar wasn't a wholly unknown entity-- Kol had heard the stories, knew the tales people passed around about him, if nothing else. However, Kol nor anyone in his own family had ever known him, so he was more of an idea than a person.
But? A win is a win, and there is always a need for celebration in light of one. It just so happens that Kol finds his way there. "Fighting in armies these days are you?" He asks with an easy smirk as he comes to stand behind his old friend, seeming to come from nowhere.
The voice is familiar and when Sigurd turns and sees Kol the face is even more so. A smile is quick to dawn on Sigurd's face. He'd thought about Kol over the years but he'd never really known where the other had gone or how to find him. Sigurd had resigned himself to yet another loss. It appeared to him in his young teen years that clearly he was destined to not be close to anyone at all. His general bitter attitude didn't really help him make friends and his penchant for saying things honest no matter how harsh they might have been.
But now, they were on the heels of victory and he was elated. He didn't care much for the revenge part, though he hadn't really disliked blood eagleing King Aelle but he'd not been like his brothers who still revered Ragnar in any way. He simply wanted to prove himself in battle and he had, at least he thought he had. Ivar was being a rather annoying thorn in his side even in the aftermath of such a victory.
"Where did you come from?" he asks, instead of answering the question.
"The shadows, clearly." Whether that's a genuine answer or a joke is lost in the shadowing of his voice, but it sounds good, either way. But he'll give at least a little. "I travel a lot. I hear things. And now, here I am." How he knew where to find Sigurd is hardly the important part of this reunion.
"I see your brother's just as big a prat as he's always been." He knew plenty about the rivalry between Sigurd and Ivar. Not unlike his own with Niklaus. Perhaps it's just a brother thing, inevitable.
Sigurd smiles slightly at the answer. It seems like both to him which makes it seem clever and he likes that, maybe he likes that he's getting attention, someone seeing him rather than his other brothers, his glory overshadowed by even the crippled little brother.
"How is that even possible?" He perks an eyebrow at that remark. It certainly sounds like a farfetched idea. Ivar has always been over-the-top, but worse than Kol had last witnessed? Not very fun to deal with, he'd imagine.
"Oh, well, being right always does it." He's all too familiar with that one. "Heard something about that first bit, I think. How'd that go?" He knows more than he's letting on, but hearing the first-hand accounts is always better.
Sigurd rolls his eyes a bit at the first comment. In all honesty, it was really a pure twist of luck that Ivar's ended up being right about things and more often than not he would rather Ubbe was really the one in control or even Bjorn. At least they weren't crazy.
"Jealous. Mine's still out for my head." Something in the way he speaks just makes everything Kol says feel like it has some sort of double-meaning, somehow. Or perhaps it's simply because most of the time his words do. But who's to say, really.
There's some shouting going on among the crowd and Kol's attention swivels for a second to the commotion. More of Sigurd's brother's ranting. Something about using the army they have because farming is useless now? He isn't particularly interested and instead turns his attention back to his friend.
Sigurd shrugs. He's not that sad about their father and now they've already got retribution on his killer, the King had screamed as they blood eagled him there would be no Valhalla for Aelle. He is about to say something else when Ivar decides to start being a nuisance.
He glances toward Ubbe who looks somewhere between frustrated and resigned with Ivar's behaviour.
"He's fucking crazy. He's the youngest and yet he thinks he should be the one to lead the great heathen army."
"Well, why doesn't someone put him in his place, then?" Says the youngest boy of the Mikaelson family, who has been in that exact position more than his share of times in his life. But watching someone else get put in his place? That's definitely more entertaining. If he nudges his friend into giving his baby brother the what for, what damage could it really do anyway?
"Have you met Ivar? He's fucking crazy," Sigurd retorts even though it is a bit of a blight on his pride to admit that he isn't putting Ivar in his place for what can only be interpreted as a healthy dose of fear about the unhinged actions that his youngest brother might take against him. Ivar doesn't love anyone, much less Sigurd and there would be no loyalty if Sigurd went at him directly.
He certainly hadn't meant it as a slight toward Sigurd, but he doesn't think of the way it might sound on the other side of it. "Even crazy can get what it deserves." He says with a smirk. He has no idea the things his words may be turning into in his friend's head. He's mostly reckless anyway, he'd find a way to support it in the end, probably.
Sigurd had vaguely agreed with Sigurd but soon after it was time for everyone to gather to eat and talk about what the next plans were.
Ivar had dominated the conversation, constantly talking over Ubbe and disagreeing with both Ubbe and Bjorn over what they should even though they were certainly much older and wiser. Ivar was full of himself after the victory of York and feeling like he had made better choices than Ubbe had.
Eventually, Sigurd had had enough and had started arguing with Ivar. The argument quickly went away from substance to the hurtful insults that they would throw at each other before Ivar throws a knife at Sigurd full force and hitting him in the chest.
Sigurd is surprised at first but then as he steps forward, pulling the axe out he only makes it a few steps before collapsing. Hvitserk and Ubbe are quick to move to him and then he's being jostled around away to one of the tents set up. He's not dead but he won't last much longer.
Kol is little more than an observer of the conversation, he doesn't have a place in it and he's content simply seeing where it goes. There's an amused smirk at the first remark Sigurd makes to Ivar.
However, his amusement at the brotherly tiff is cut short when suddenly, aivar hurls an axe straight at Sigurd. He's stunned, and angry, only keeping himself in check because the commotion of two of the others rushing to his friend's side and carting him off to a tent to be looked at more closely.
Everyone else is busy muttering amongst themselves, distracted and unnoticing of the glare, accompanied by a show of his true face in Ivar's direction--eyes dangerously dark, like a warning sign, with too dark and prominent veins raised around the edges of his eyes. It's barely a flash, quick enough the younger Viking would likely question if he saw what he thought he had at all. And then Kol is on the heels of the others, stopping just outside the edge of the tent before he speaks.
"I don't have time to explain, but I can help." He just needs an invitation first. Bloody magic rules.
Sigurd is mostly out of it by the time that they reach the tent but he hears Kol's voice as they set him down. It's hard to hold onto any semblance of consciousness and he only vaguely registers the sound of Ubbe inviting Kol inside the tent. He wants to say something but he can't. Even as black is pulling at the edges of his vision and he almost can't even feel the pain anymore he can't believe that Ivar had really done it this time.
He'd really never thought Ivar would kill him, not like that.
As soon as he's granted permission to enter, Kol rushes to Sigurd's side. "Don't you die on me, yet, you prat." He mumbles before letting his fangs slice into his own wrist and letting a bit of blood drip into his friend's mouth. Now, at least when he died, it would only be temporary.
The words don't really sink into Sigurd's consciousness and neither does Kol's actions, though be assured that Ubbe and Hvitserk are looking confused and quickly asking questions. Is he harming Sigurd? What strange ritual was this. It's not as if it was anything like a Viking sacrifice even if there is blood involved. That's the least strange thing about it all.
Whatever Kol had done hadn't stopped Sigurd from dying and the brothers are less than happy when his breath stops. It's not as if they could understand the truth of what is happening.
Kol waves off their concerns, promising that everything will be fine. He's done this plenty of times, he knows how it works and anyone who has doubts will see in short order how right he is.
The others may not, but Kol hears it when his friend takes his first breath after death and he cants his head slightly to the side, "Sigurd?" he calls to him, curious if he's conscious again just yet.
The first thing Sigurd hears is his name, the voice pushing through the fog and confusion that's settling in with his waking. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing quite comes out at first.
"Kol?" the source and familiarity of the voice is pinned down.
It seems apparent to family that some witchcraft must have been at play.
He grins and kneels next to him again. "How ya feeling, mate? World's a lot louder, innit? Don't worry, it's a bit of a side-effect, but you'll get used to it."
There's...a lot to explain, but first he wants to see how Sigurd feels. Kol's guess? Ravenous.
Sigurd frowns because it’s true. It’s louder and just... more. He looks at Kol and there’s a million questions running through him. What does he mean side effect? Of what? Being axed almost to death by his little brother?
“Hungry,” the truth spills from his lips before he has time to think but after he says it he knows it to be true. “Kol... what’s going on?” He asks and he can see the confused expressions of his brothers and he needs and wants an explanation though the hunger is becoming more adamant of his attention.
He actually addresses the room as a whole for the question, though his attention is mostly focused on Sigurd. "Have you heard legends of the draugar?" He doesn't wait for responses from anyone before he continues. "The legends aren't...precisely right, but I told you there was a lot you didn't know about me-- surprise?"
The important part of this, however, is that he saved him, and Kol is hoping that goes over well enough to not make murdering a room full of people necessary. "That hunger is only going to get worse and you've got a day to decide... if you don't complete the transition within the time limit, you die for real."
Sigurd's brow furrows the word familiar enough. Floki loved to tell stories and so he's heard more than a few about them but Kol... sigurd wouldn't have really guessed this even though he knew there was plenty that he had not known about his friend.
"So if I don't want to die?" Sigurd queries, ignoring his brothers, who both look unsettled by the turn of events.
"You have to feed on human blood before a full day's gone." He shrugs a little. It's a simple choice, if he has an ounce of survivalist tendencies in him at all, as far as Kol is concerned.
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{Take a drink, swim or sink | @ snakeintheeye
Going on a mission to avenge his father's death? Not something Kol can relate to at all. Hard to picture, considering Mikael has been on the hunt for Kol and the rest of his siblings for decades now, with every intention of murdering all of them. Such hypocrisy, really. He and Esther had made their children what they all are now, it's not even a little fair to think that now they've simply decided they're abominations that need to be extinct from this world. They certainly took the 'I brought you into this world and I can take you out' addage a bit too far, in Kol's opinion.
Alas. It wasn't Mikael anyone was vying to save the memory of. Ragnar wasn't a wholly unknown entity-- Kol had heard the stories, knew the tales people passed around about him, if nothing else. However, Kol nor anyone in his own family had ever known him, so he was more of an idea than a person.
But? A win is a win, and there is always a need for celebration in light of one. It just so happens that Kol finds his way there. "Fighting in armies these days are you?" He asks with an easy smirk as he comes to stand behind his old friend, seeming to come from nowhere.
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But now, they were on the heels of victory and he was elated. He didn't care much for the revenge part, though he hadn't really disliked blood eagleing King Aelle but he'd not been like his brothers who still revered Ragnar in any way. He simply wanted to prove himself in battle and he had, at least he thought he had. Ivar was being a rather annoying thorn in his side even in the aftermath of such a victory.
"Where did you come from?" he asks, instead of answering the question.
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"I see your brother's just as big a prat as he's always been." He knew plenty about the rivalry between Sigurd and Ivar. Not unlike his own with Niklaus. Perhaps it's just a brother thing, inevitable.
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"He's a bigger one now."
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"Well, he's dead," Sigurd shrugs. It went Great.
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There's some shouting going on among the crowd and Kol's attention swivels for a second to the commotion. More of Sigurd's brother's ranting. Something about using the army they have because farming is useless now? He isn't particularly interested and instead turns his attention back to his friend.
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He glances toward Ubbe who looks somewhere between frustrated and resigned with Ivar's behaviour.
"He's fucking crazy. He's the youngest and yet he thinks he should be the one to lead the great heathen army."
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All the same, the idea is turning in his head.
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Ivar had dominated the conversation, constantly talking over Ubbe and disagreeing with both Ubbe and Bjorn over what they should even though they were certainly much older and wiser. Ivar was full of himself after the victory of York and feeling like he had made better choices than Ubbe had.
Eventually, Sigurd had had enough and had started arguing with Ivar. The argument quickly went away from substance to the hurtful insults that they would throw at each other before Ivar throws a knife at Sigurd full force and hitting him in the chest.
Sigurd is surprised at first but then as he steps forward, pulling the axe out he only makes it a few steps before collapsing. Hvitserk and Ubbe are quick to move to him and then he's being jostled around away to one of the tents set up. He's not dead but he won't last much longer.
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However, his amusement at the brotherly tiff is cut short when suddenly, aivar hurls an axe straight at Sigurd. He's stunned, and angry, only keeping himself in check because the commotion of two of the others rushing to his friend's side and carting him off to a tent to be looked at more closely.
Everyone else is busy muttering amongst themselves, distracted and unnoticing of the glare, accompanied by a show of his true face in Ivar's direction--eyes dangerously dark, like a warning sign, with too dark and prominent veins raised around the edges of his eyes. It's barely a flash, quick enough the younger Viking would likely question if he saw what he thought he had at all. And then Kol is on the heels of the others, stopping just outside the edge of the tent before he speaks.
"I don't have time to explain, but I can help." He just needs an invitation first. Bloody magic rules.
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He'd really never thought Ivar would kill him, not like that.
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Whatever Kol had done hadn't stopped Sigurd from dying and the brothers are less than happy when his breath stops. It's not as if they could understand the truth of what is happening.
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The others may not, but Kol hears it when his friend takes his first breath after death and he cants his head slightly to the side, "Sigurd?" he calls to him, curious if he's conscious again just yet.
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"Kol?" the source and familiarity of the voice is pinned down.
It seems apparent to family that some witchcraft must have been at play.
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There's...a lot to explain, but first he wants to see how Sigurd feels. Kol's guess? Ravenous.
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“Hungry,” the truth spills from his lips before he has time to think but after he says it he knows it to be true. “Kol... what’s going on?” He asks and he can see the confused expressions of his brothers and he needs and wants an explanation though the hunger is becoming more adamant of his attention.
old norse for vampire~
The important part of this, however, is that he saved him, and Kol is hoping that goes over well enough to not make murdering a room full of people necessary. "That hunger is only going to get worse and you've got a day to decide... if you don't complete the transition within the time limit, you die for real."
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"So if I don't want to die?" Sigurd queries, ignoring his brothers, who both look unsettled by the turn of events.
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