Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1

-

Öland, 1945

“Godric!” Godric’s chest fills with a warm thrill at the distant sound of Eric’s excited voice calling against the wind. Godric and Eric’s separation began nearly fifty long years ago, most of which time Godric wasted entirely. Prior to this, the longest they had ever spent apart was a matter of days.  Godric is unsure exactly how he found his way back home to Öland again. Godric stares out longingly at the dark sea that feels more like home than anywhere else in the world - second to Eric, who is Godric’s true home.

Time moves slowly. The moonlight shines brightly on them. Godric and Eric watch one another from across the sands for what feels like a very long, surreal moment. Eric wears a suit: he wouldn’t reunite with Godric in anything less. Godric wears loose-fitting dark soldier’s clothes Eric can only assume he wears to blend in on the battlefield, as Eric imagines he has done since the beginning of time. 

Their eyes share an unspeakable exhaustion. These years apart have taken a toll on them both.  In an instant, Eric is kneeling all too formally in the sand before where Godric stands. Eric is reminded that Godric is the most beautiful creature Eric has ever laid eyes on. “Godric,” Eric breathes, unable to contain his hopeful smile. 

Godric fights back a tear of blood and fails. The sight of Eric is too much to contain. Godric smiles sadly in that familiar way he always has: crooked and lonely. “Min Eric,” ‘My Eric,’ a ghost of Godric’s soft voice says. 

Overwhelmed with happiness and feeling all too much like a small child, Eric rises and embraces Godric with so much strength, they plummet into the sand together. Despite heavy hearts, this reunion is deeply joyful. 

Eric and Godric laugh lightheartedly and smile brightly together as they embrace, their clothes now covered in sand. Godric distinctly recalls the last time he laughed, and it was with Eric over fifty years ago. Godric holds Eric tightly and buries his face selfishly in Eric’s neck. “Ást-kærr,” ‘Love-dear,’  Godric sighs the term of endearment in a relief he cannot hide from Eric. Still, Godric cannot bring himself to regret the decision to leave Eric, although he is selfishly tempted.

“Hjartað mitt,” ‘My heart,’ Eric breathes Godric in, “var har du varit?” ‘where have you been?’ Flashes of war like none other Godric has witnessed come to mind, but Godric says nothing. Burdening Eric further benefits no one. “Det har gått så lång tid. jag har saknat dig.” ‘It’s been so long. I have missed you.’ They look into one another’s eyes for a long moment before Eric catches Godric’s soft lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Godric is overcome by his love for Eric and melts into his touch. 

The hurt long settled under Godric’s skin and in his bones washes away under Eric’s touch. Godric’s old, immortal bones cease their aching compliantly beneath Eric’s weight. Godric’s need for Eric exists deeply within him. 

Eric fights his instincts and ends the kiss prematurely to look into Godric’s eyes once again, searching for reasons to justify his hope that Godric will finally return to him. Eric wants only to never again leave Godric’s side. This is more than a rendezvous to continue an old hunt, this is Eric’s chance to convince Godric to return to him. This is all about the right words and the right time, but patience has never been a strength of Eric’s. 

Clouds illuminated in moonlight against an endless dark sky drift peacefully along in the sky. “Ég hef saknað þín.” ‘I have missed you.’ Godric contains the true depth of his feelings for fear Eric will not let him go so easily this time. Still, Godric finds himself repeating in a thoughtful whisper, “Ég hef saknað þín.” Eric is sated for now. 

Godric and Eric sit together by the sea as they catch up on lost time. Eric tells Godric all about Pamela, San Francisco, and American baseball, though Godric knows when Eric withholds from him. “Hon är så lik Nora,” ‘She is so like Nora,’ Godric muses about Eric’s progeny. Godric was surprised to learn of Pamela, but more proud than Eric will ever know. 

“För att hon är en hora?” ‘Because she’s a whore?’ Eric asks, having grown more crass and resentful in Godric’s absence. Eric finds Godric’s small hand to hold. Eric occupies himself with kissing along Godric’s hand and wrist, carefully avoiding the very ancient brand on Godric’s forearm. Eric knows from much experience that Godric will not react positively to attention drawn to this particular mark.

“De är båda väldigt starka och modiga och smarta,” ‘They are both very strong and brave and clever,’  Godric corrects simply. He savors Eric’s touch, memorizing each treasured second they have together. 

Since their words are safe here, Godric shares after some silence, “Det var Noras tips som för oss båda hit.” ‘It was Nora’s tip that brings us both here.’ The mood of their reunion shifts instantly. Eric’s demeanor hardens. “Jag oroar mig för henne,” ‘I worry for her,’ Godric adds. 

“Vad är det?” ‘What is it?’ Eric asks. Eric would do anything for Godric, but Godric has worried incessantly for Nora since she first became his to worry for. Godric worries without thought or reason. Godric’s worries for Nora are, more often than not, a feeling of loving and missing Nora and little more. 

Godric shakes his head slowly and stares off into the  dark sea. “Salome. Nora är fortfarande så ung. För ung för att vara utan mig. För ung för politik. För…” ‘Salome. Nora is still so young. Too young to be without me. Too young for politics. For…’ Godric does not need to say more for Eric to understand. 

“Du är avundsjuk.” ‘You’re jealous,’ Eric teases thoughtlessly. Godric does not respond. Eric changes his tune, “Jag kan titta på det.” ‘I can look into it.’

Godric avoids Eric’s eyes, “Nej. Nora är säker. Vi har mer angelägna ärenden att ta itu med. Vi måste åka till Tyskland ikväll för att träffas.” ‘No. Nora is safe. We have more pressing matters to attend to. We must leave for Germany tonight to make our rendezvous.’

Despite himself, Eric does not stand. In Eric’s long life, all that has ever meant more to him than his father’s revenge is Godric. “Snart,” ‘Soon,’ Eric postpones. Eric’s urgency gets the better of him. “Kom till Amerika med mig. När detta är över, kom. Du kommer att älska San Francisco.” ‘Come to America with me. When this is over, come. You will love San Francisco.’

Eric knows he’s being foolish and rash and desperate, but he can’t help himself. The joy of seeing Godric again and the fear of losing him again is too much to bear. “Du kan träffa Pam och komma bort från kriget-“ ‘You can meet Pam, and get away from the war-‘

Godric cannot bear to allow Eric’s hopes to build any more, “Inga.” ‘No.’

Silence. Eric’s hand remains stubbornly intertwined with Godric’s. “Varför?” ‘Why?’  More silence. “Varför tänker du inte ens överväga det?” ‘Why won’t you even consider it?’

“Min plats är där kriget är,” ‘My place is where the war is,’ Godric answers in a whisper against the powerful sea wind. His heart is as heavy as it felt the night it stopped beating. 

Eric shakes his head, “Min plats är hos dig. Jag kommer att gå med dig-” ‘My place is with you. I will go with you-’

“Och hur är det med din lilla? Skulle du överge henne?” ‘And what of your little one? Would you abandon her?’ Godric asks.

“Vi kommer att gå med dig,” ‘We will go with you,’ Eric bickers stubbornly.

“Det gör du inte,” ‘You will not,’ Godric responds out of shame and fear. 

Eric turns his face away from Godric with a tight jaw and crossed arms over his knees. He’s furious, of course, but he can’t make Godric want him any more than he could 50 years ago. “How can I make you forgive me?” 

Godric stares straight ahead at the horizon. “You are mine. Everything you are is my responsibility. The burden is mine.” 

This is the same cycle they always fall into. “So what?” Eric asks in anger, “I wait around another fifty years until you can forgive yourself? Until some God that doesn’t exist forgives you? Until what, Godric? I can’t believe we’re still talking about this, after all these years. I can’t believe you. I don’t understand you at all.” 

Eric knows he can speak his mind to Godric safely. If nothing else, Eric knows his heart will always be safe with Godric. “Things could be exactly the way we want them to be. You, me, Nora, Pam. We could be a family like we should be. You have everything, and you cast me aside like we don’t have a thousand years of devotion between us. I can’t understand you, Godric. I swear I cannot understand you.” 

“Ek ann þér,” ‘I love you,’ Godric whispers. They both know Eric cannot and will not argue this.

Eric wants to curse Godric, but instead reigns his emotions in. Godric is clearly going through something only 2,000 year-old vampires experience. Eric describes this to Pam as something of a midlife crisis, but the truth is that Eric won’t pretend to understand Godric. 

“Let me in,” Eric sighs and rests his head against Godric’s shoulder. “I could help you with… whatever this is. I could take care of you. I could make things right, if only you would let me.” Godric does not respond. “Ek ann þér, Godric. Alltid.” ‘I love you, Godric. Always.” 

"Alltid,” ‘Always,’ Godric responds softly. It’s a rare joy that Godric and Eric are together, so the arguing stops for now. Godric knows Eric will never stop fighting for him, but he is relieved to have peace between them for just a few minutes. 

Godric wraps his arm around Eric’s shoulders to pull him closer. Eric curls against Godric’s chest like he isn’t nearly twice Godric’s size. Godric softly rubs Eric’s back and hums quietly as he does when the memories of Eric’s human family keep him awake at night. 

The trip to Augsburg is more long and winding than Eric would have expected. The war has complicated what would otherwise be a simple trip. Near their destination, they come upon what Eric imagines would be easy prey, but Godric stops him with a hand on his chest. “Deras folk har lidit tillräckligt. Vi kommer att äta på soldaterna klädda som jag är.” ‘Their people have suffered enough. We will feed on the soldiers dressed as we are.’ Eric has never known Godric to sympathize with humans this way, but obeys. 

Godric does not sleep much this day. He stays up late, silently watching Eric sleep with his arms tightly locked around Godric. Eric still wears the eagle’s talon on a necklace Godric gave him the night he was born, even now, fifty years after Godric broke his heart, even as he sleeps otherwise nude. Nothing is more precious to Godric than Eric; not now, not for all of eternity. Godric must protect Eric from him.

“Eric,” Godric rouses softly with a tender hand on Eric’s cheek. Eric’s body jolts as he’s awakened unexpectedly. Anyone else would be dead for waking him, but even Eric’s unconscious knows Godric. “Det är dags.” ‘It is time.’ Godric rises and sets a well-folded set of clothes on Eric’s chest, “Klä dig i dessa. Var noga med att inte skrynkla dem.” ‘Dress in these. Take care not to wrinkle them.’ Eric doesn’t think he wants to know why Godric has so many Nazi soldier uniforms so easily accessible. 

Eric never doubts Godric, but it isn’t until they’ve been hiding in the attic of one of the few remaining domestic homes in Augsburg for several hours that Eric’s boredom wears off and he realizes the gravity of the situation. “Det är här. Jag kan känna det.” ‘It is here, Godric. I can feel it.’

“Vänta,” ‘Wait,’ Godric commands in tiny whispers before Eric can act. “Detta krig är inte som det förflutnas krig. Du måste ha takt. Slå till hennes mest utsatta. Ge ingen varning.” ‘This war is not like the war of the past. You must have tact. Strike at her most vulnerable. Give no warning.’ An American soldier enters the dwelling with a gun in both hands. He inspects the bodies the wolf left on the wooden floor. Eric watches curiously as the wolf lures the soldier into the other room. 

A small conversation, a struggle, and the wolf takes her meal. Eric intends to wait for Godric’s signal to pounce on the wolf, but loses himself to his anger. He lands several feet away. Eric wants her to fear him. Eric wants her to see his face and his fangs and know who killed her. 

Godric, giving Eric all the dignity he can, only watches quietly from behind. This doesn’t last long. The wolf charges at Eric. Eric is frozen. Godric can feel Eric’s fury, but also his heartache. Eric is overwhelmed by grief. Godric pins the wolf to the adjacent wall with the knife at the end of the soldier’s shotgun to restrain her. Godric steps back to allow Eric space to interrogate their prisoner. 

“Wir sind auf derselben Seite, ihr Narren!” ‘We’re on the same side, you fools!’ The wolf screams at them in the local language.

Godric watches closely as Eric approaches the wolf with another knife. He reveals the mark on her neck that Eric and Godric have seen dozens of times in their centuries’ old hunt. Each time, the wolf has chosen death over the betrayal of their master. Godric hopes for Eric’s sake, this time is different. 

“Nein, sind wir nicht,” ‘No, we’re not,’ Eric responds in kind. Eric stabs the woman twice more, clearly running low on patience. “Wer ist dein Meister?!” ‘Who is your master?!’ Again, Eric shouts, “Wer ist dein Meister?!’ Even Godric begins to feel overwhelmed by Eric’s rage, his violence, his lust for vengeance. 

“Gib mir dein Blut und ich werde dir sagen,” ‘Give me your blood. and I will tell you,” the wolf bargains. The answer is clear, if only Eric could hear it: the wolf’s master is a vampire. A vampire killed Eric’s family. A very, very old vampire who is controlling werewolves with an addiction to his blood killed Eric’s family. Godric knows this addiction to vampire blood all too well: this wolf will not betray her master, just as the others did not. 

Godric knows who the wolf’s master is.

Eric pauses only long enough to comprehend the odd request. “Eric,” Godric attempts to intervene, “blodet är heligt.” ‘the blood is sacred.” Eric already knows this. Godric is Eric’s world: his maker, his family, his true love, and the only person he wishes to walk this world with, but all Eric feels now is fury. 

Eric ignores Godric. He bites into his own wrist and feeds the wolf his blood. Godric’s heart breaks. He knows how this ends. “Wer ist dein Meister?” ‘Who is your master?’ Eric asks once more. 

“Er ist einer von euch,” ‘He is one of you,’ the wolf replies. Eric is so taken aback, he does not react even when the wolf is freed of her bonds and tackles him to the floor. She is just a brief second away from plunging silver into Eric’s chest when Godric is forced to break her neck. Still, all Eric can do is watch as the wolf falls lifelessly to the floor. 

“En vampyr är aldrig utlämnad till sina känslor,” ‘A vampire is never at the mercy of his emotions,’ Godric scolds him like he did when Eric was only a matter of weeks old. Even a thousand miles away, trapped in the memory of his family’s slaughter, Eric recognizes that Godric’s intention is not punishment, but to bring Eric back to himself. 

Eric is no longer a helpless human, he is a 1,000 year old vampire. Eric’s human family was murdered a millennia ago. Eric is here with Godric now. Godric kneels before Eric and rests a firm hand on his shoulder, “Han dominerar dem. Vi kommer att hitta honom. Tålamod.” ‘He dominates them. We will find him. Patience.’

Eric soon comes back to Godric. He nods firmly and finds his footing again. He is ashamed and shocked, but still intensely focused on his mission, “Känner du honom?” ‘Do you know him?’ Godric is silent. “Känner du hennes herre?” ‘Do you know her master?’ Eric asks again. 

“Jag har känt att vampyrer använder sitt blod för att kontrollera dödliga,” ‘I have known vampires to use their blood to control mortals,’ Godric answers vaguely. “När människor dricker vårt blod upprepade gånger, längtar deras kroppar mer.” ‘When humans drink our blood repeatedly, their bodies crave more.’ 

A pause before Godric continues carefully, “Att visa en annan vampyr den sanna döden, en kanske tusentals år äldre än dig, är självmord. Det är ett brott. Myndigheten skulle aldrig tillåta” ‘To show another vampire the True Death, one possibly thousands of years older than you, is suicide. It is a crime. The Authority would never permit-’

“Hans namn, Godric,” ‘His name, Godric,’ Eric demands petulantly. Godric is silent. “Visste du det? Hela den här tiden?” ‘Did you know? All this time?’

“Inga,” ‘No,’ Godric answers truthfully. Godric would never tell Eric a lie. “Jag skulle naturligtvis ha berättat för dig om jag insett det innan-” ‘Of course I would have told you if I realized before-’

“Berätta för mig nu,” ‘Then tell me now,’ Eric’s anger seeps through. It is not the way Eric ever speaks to his maker. “Säg det!” ‘Say it!’

Godric only responds to Eric with a sad and understanding gaze. Though still enraged, Eric knows he’s fucked up again. Tears of blood reach his cheeks. Godric reaches up to soothingly wipe Eric’s tears away, his touch softer than an ancient immortal ought to be capable of.  The touch only makes Eric angrier, but Eric contains himself. 

Godric soothes Eric, “I tusen år. Jag har jagat den här mannen till jordens ändar vid din sida. Ingenting har förändrats. Jag ska berätta allt jag vet. Men snart går solen upp. Vi måste gå till marken nu om vi vill fortsätta jakten imorgon.” ‘For a thousand years. I have chased this man to the ends of the earth by your side. Nothing has changed. I will tell you everything I know. But the sun will rise soon. We must go to ground now if we wish to continue the hunt tomorrow.’

This brings Eric back to reality. Eric nods in agreement and allows Godric to silently guide him back to Godric’s temporary resting place nestled beneath floorboards in an abandoned home. They discard their SS uniforms with just enough time to close the coffin before the sun begins to rise. Here, pressed tightly to Godric’s chest just as the night he was turned, Eric finally breaks down. 

Godric holds Eric as he cries and shakes against Godric’s bare chest, blurring the tattoo there with blood. Only Godric has ever seen Eric this way, and even so, Godric can count on one hand the number of times Eric has allowed himself what he considers to be such weakness. “Jag är ledsen. Snälla, förlåt mig. Jag är så ledsen, hjartað mitt,” ‘I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'm so sorry, my heart,’ Eric’s pleas muffle against Godric’s skin.

All Eric can feel is loss. The wound of his father’s loss never healed, and it is only worsened by his and Godric’s separation. Godric feels the grief right along with him. Godric takes whatever comfort he can in holding Eric close now. 

“Shhh…” Godric does all he can to comfort Eric, though he knows it will only make leaving him again more difficult. Tomorrow will not be easy. For now, Godric kisses Eric’s forehead lingeringly and tries to remind himself of all the reasons Godric is bad for Eric.

Eric has other plans. His cheeks are still covered in blood when he lifts his head and kisses Godric. Eric will not allow Godric to leave him again without first reminding him of the depth of their love. Godric doesn’t know how to not need Eric, even if that is Eric’s best interest. Godric does not know how to deny Eric. Their passion for one another quickly reignites. The bleeds will start soon, but that has never stopped them before.

Their lips and bodies move together with greed and purpose and longing. Eric wastes no time shifting his weight on top of Godric. Soft, needy moans are shared between them. Eric’s hips find their way between Godric’s legs, which wrap around Eric’s waist of their own accord, tightening the small space between them. Eric feels wanted by Godric as he’s been craving all these years. “Hjartað mitt,” ‘My heart,’ Eric moans the term of endearment lowly against Godric’s mouth. 

This, Godric knows before all else, before he is a vampire, before he is a Maker, before he is a man, before he is his parents’ child, and before the brands on his skin that forever mark him: Godric is Eric’s. 

Eric is soon inside Godric, and it’s all Godric can do not to cry blood tears of pleasure. If only Godric had known Eric would come along, that Godric’s human suffering was leading him eventually to Eric, he could have known the pain had meaning. If Godric knew a thousand years ago what he knows now, he would have done better by Eric. 

Godric’s nails leave scratches down Eric’s broad back as Eric presses into Godric again and again and again, drawing out their pleasure skillfully. Eric rests his forehead against Godric’s. Words are not needed. Their bodies commune as they have for centuries, and their hearts are one. Godric feels Eric’s grief and longing, and Eric feels Godric’s shame and emptiness. Between it all: centuries of faith, love, and loyalty. Eric kisses Godric again. 

It is a rare occasion that Godric and Eric share blood, although it has become more and more common as the centuries pass. Godric knows he should practice more self-control than this, but he cannot stop himself from whispering between Eric’s thrusts and kisses, “Ta mig djupare i natt.” ‘Take me deeper this night.’ It is not Godric’s intention to give Eric unfounded hope, but he sees it too late in the slightly crooked, proud smile Eric returns. 

Eric wastes no time. Godric’s eyes roll shut as Eric tilts Godric’s face aside with a broad hand. Eric’s fangs penetrate Godric’s strong skin so he may eagerly drink Godric’s blood. It tastes just as it did the first night they met: of sweet iron and ecstasy. Eric has never tasted another like Godric. Eric never wants to. 

All the missing Godric has done for Eric over the past several decades returns to him now. Godric cannot keep blood tears from pouring onto his cheeks, into Eric’s hair and his own, down onto the wooden coffin. “Ek ann þér, ást-kær.” ‘I love you, love-dear.’ 

Just as he did the night he ended Eric’s human life, Godric bites his neck quickly and precisely to avoid unnecessary pain. Godric drinks Eric’s blood only as quickly as it offers itself to him. Godric feels too much pleasure, too much pain, too much longing, too much Eric. Godric does not know how he will ever let Eric return to San Francisco alone. 

Their climax comes all too soon. Eric’s husky moans in Godric’s ear brings his final pleasure. Godric holds Eric tightly and, for only a fleeting moment, allows himself the fantasy of San Francisco with Eric.

Eric slows inside of Godric, but does not stop entirely. They share only a moment or two of slowed kisses before Eric’s strength is returned to him and their love continues fiercely. Sleep does not come soon this day. When it finally does, Eric sleeps softly inside of Godric, neither of them strong enough to separate. 

When night returns again, Eric wakes alone to a neatly folded pile of clean clothes with a note on top identifying the man who killed his human family as Korun. 

Chapter Text

2

-

Gaul, ~55 B.C.

A woman screams terror in the night. Godric does not recognize her voice, he has never heard a woman scream this way. Godric only knows peace, his tribe does not know war. Godric does not recognize the tightness in his chest, the heat in his face, or the way the dark world around him seems to distort. Unfamiliar men’s voices follow, then a struggle. Many struggles. Many screams. 

The woman cannot be saved. None of them can. This is the end of peace as Godric knows it. 

Fire emerges from the darkness, yet Godric is frozen. A large man dressed in iron and red finds Godric here in a burning home. Godric does not know this man, nor his tongue. He shouts at Godric in words Godric has never heard before. Godric sees two oddly long teeth in his mouth. Godric’s body remains still, frozen with a hot feeling Godric does not know. 

Shouting from outside the home. The man grabs Godric with hard, forceful hands and throws Godric’s small body over his hard shoulder to take him away. Godric cannot breathe. The world is upside down. 

Godric identifies the dead lying in the bloody grass as he is taken: his parents, his friends, his people. Godric hears crying and choking, and realizes belatedly the noise is his own. The iron man’s shirt is tugged down on his shoulder when he readjusts Godric’s weight. Godric notices a strange mark on his shoulder, perhaps a tattoo or a burn. Godric’s fingers tingle. Godric’s body feels sick. 

The strange iron man drops Godric into a carriage and dresses Godric’s neck and wrists in a strange iron pattern he has never before seen. Iron rope, although Godric has never seen such a thing. Godric’s movement is restricted, he can hardly breathe. This is not real; it cannot be. 

Godric pulls at the iron so he might free himself and go… go where? All around him is fire and screaming and death. Godric loses his breath and, with it, consciousness.

-

Dallas, 2009

Godric’s eyes open to concrete walls and a cluttered concrete floor. Boxes line the wall adjacent to him. Silver chains decorate his neck and wrists. A woman screams in terror in the night. Godric does not recognize her voice, but he recognizes the scream. Godric has heard this scream across cultures, across continents, across times. This scream is Godric’s first memory. Godric hears an unfamiliar man’s voice, then a struggle.

Godric is no longer a helpless, tiny human child, and hardly remembers the time he once was. Godric removes the assailant from his victim before either human can comprehend his presence, chains clattering to the ground behind him. 

Godric lifts the man off his feet by his neck, suffocating him. “Godric?” The half-bare woman looks up at the two men in shock, but recognizes Godric somehow. Godric does not know this human, but he quickly senses she is not human at all. 

“Godric? It’s me,” is all the assailant has to say for himself, as though expecting Godric to allow him to continue terrorizing this innocent woman - as though this is all some grand mistake. Godric is filled with rage and breaks his neck. The assailant’s lifeless body drops to the ground. Godric hears Eric’s unmistakable sounds on the floor above. 

Eric has come for Godric. Godric’s heart aches painfully at the realization. 

Godric faces the woman, “You should not have come.” She buttons her dress quickly with shaking hands. 

“No offense, but no shit,” the woman replies, her voice shaking with adrenaline and fear. Screams from another part of the building catch Godric’s attention once again. Eric. “Bill!” The woman exclaims in relief. 

“No,” Godric corrects the mortal woman. When Godric closes his eyes, he can better sense Eric upstairs searching for him. Eric will terrorize and kill until he finds Godric. Godric raises his voice just loudly enough for Eric’s enhanced senses to pick up on, “I am here, Eric. Down here.” 

Eric appears before Godric in a fraction of a second. Eric wears leather clothes and hair shorter than Godric’s ever seen, but Godric would know Eric in any life, without sight or touch, in heart alone. Eric’s eyes are lined in red; he has been crying.

“Godric,” Eric exclaims softly, too relieved to say more. Viking first, even after all this time, Eric falls to his knee before Godric. “ Hjartað mitt,” ‘My heart,’ It’s there that Eric feels Godric’s anger. It is not often Godric loses his temper with Eric. 

“You were a fool for sending humans after me,” Godric begins in English so the mortal woman may understand. Godric did not call for Eric, he is sure of it. “Why are you here?”

Eric does not understand, but hangs his head in shame nonetheless. Eric struggles to find words to explain what is so painfully obvious to Eric, “I–I had no other choice. These savages- they seek to destroy you.” Godric tries not to flinch at Eric’s word choice. 

“I am aware of what they have planned,” Godric and Eric have never felt further apart. Eric cannot understand how or why this has happened. “This one betrayed you,” Godric shares, motioning to one of the bodies lying limp at his bare feet. 

“He’s with the fellowship,” the woman adds weakly for Eric’s benefit, “they set a trap for us.” 

Eric could not care less about Sookie or any other, not now. Godric is alive, this is all that matters to Eric. Eric’s only objective is to free Godric. Eric’s eyes find the silver around Godric’s neck and wrists, and Godric’s soft skin burned beneath them. 

“What have they done to you? How long since you’ve fed?” Eric asks Godric, as though it could possibly matter. Eric is blinded by his love for Godric. Unable to resist, Eric grabs Godric’s arm to remove the silver cuff forcefully. 

Godric pulls his hand from Eric to keep Eric from hurting himself with the silver. The motion is so unfamiliar to Eric, he only stares at Godric in shock. “I require very little blood anymore,” Godric replies simply. The longer this goes on, the closer Eric comes, the more pain Godric will cause Eric. 

Alarms fill the building with repetitive noise; the humans know of their presence. Time is limited. “Save her,” Godric instructs. Eric remains knelt before Godric, still as a statue. Eric will not abandon Godric here for Sookie. This is when Godric knows he is losing control of his distance from Eric. “Go on.” 

Eric is as noble, honorable, and loyal as ever, “I am not leaving your side until you are-”

Godric interrupts Eric’s noble words harshly, and a bit in the echo of a petulant child, “I can take care of myself.” 

“Can you?” Eric asks with comparable petulance. Godric desperately keeps hold of the cage around his heart. Godric cannot allow all he loves about Eric to sway his heart: his passion, his love, his rage, his impulsivity, his stubbornness. 

“Vad har de gjort med dig?” ‘What have they done to you?’ Eric does not recognize Godric’s passivity. “Kom hem med mig, jag ska skydda dig och ta hand om dig-” ‘Come home with me, I will protect you and care for you-’

The woman is the first to lose patience with their squabbling, “Come on, we have to go.” Godric can hear her heart pound, fear persisting through her veins. She does not feel safe with Eric, and for good reason.

“This does not concern you, Sookie, so either have my back or shut up,” Eric says harshly to the woman who has already endured too much this night. 

“Eric,” Godric criticizes. “Spill no blood on your way out,” Godric instructs again, hoping Eric’s loyalty alone will equate to obedience. “Go,” Godric instructs once more, although he’s sure Eric hears it as a plea. This is Godric’s final mistake. Godric sees fear spill into Eric’s firm gaze. Eric knows.

Eric grabs Godric’s arm to test that Godric won’t resist him; Godric does not resist. “Eric, gör inte det,” ‘Eric, don’t do it,’ Godric warns, although he knows he has no leverage now. 

Eric grabs the back of Godric’s thigh and throws him over his shoulder. Godric hisses indignantly, “Eric!” A large hand holds Godric firmly in place as Eric stands. It occurs to Godric now how very exhausted he is. Godric could resist and probably escape Eric’s grip, but with as little blood and rest he has recently had, Eric would surely overpower him soon anyway. Godric doesn’t have it in him to fight, not Eric, not now.

“Let’s go. Move, Sookie,” Eric instructs the human woman, who follows closely at Eric’s side as they climb the stairs. They watch from the shadows as the humans evacuate the church. “We need another exit.”

“Through the sanctuary,” Sookie directs.  “In the back.”

Of course, this is where they find Steve Newlin. “There’s multiple exits, actually. But yours takes you right to hell.” Eric sets Godric back down on his feet gently and steps in front of him protectively, a tight hand on his wrist to keep him close, half expecting Godric to disappear again. Church members flood into the sanctuary armed with stakes and silver chains. 

“Let us go!” The woman shouts bravely. “We haven’t done anything to you!” One of the members of the church shoots Steve Newlin with a paintball gun. Eric attacks Steve Newlin. A vampire called Bill appears. Isabel, Stan, and the rest of Godric’s coven arrive. Things escalate quickly, as they tend to when Eric is around. 

“Enough,” Godric finally commands, appearing at the front of the room. The room stills. “Good people, who of you is willing to die for this man’s madness?” Silence. “That is what I thought. Stand down. It is over. Go home.” 

The war is over before anyone is hurt. Violence is  not the true nature of anyone here. Hatred is taught, and it can be released. Godric says to Steve Newlin where he lies at Eric’s feet, “I dare say my faith in humankind is stronger than yours.”

Eric wastes no time eagerly returning to Godric’s side. “Come,” Godric instructs Eric and the rest of the vampires among him. Eric is relieved that, at least, Godric is now willing to leave this horrible place.

It is several hours before he and Eric are alone together. Eric does not take his eyes off Godric for so much as a moment. Even when Eric has finally outlasted the rest of the Dallas nest in a bid for Godric’s attention, curious ears obviously eavesdrop from the other room. Eric is excited to finally have Godric’s attention to himself after all these decades, but it’s apparent that Godric is not entirely himself. Godric cannot fool Eric into believing nothing has changed this time.

Eric lingers in the doorway after the others leave, wondering if Godric will ever look at him. Godric only stares ahead, his mind far away from here. Eric does not feel relieved as he should to have Godric back here under his scrutiny.

Eric plays his best hand to catch Godric’s attention and to be back in his good graces. Eric kneels before Godric’s chair, “I’ve arranged for an AB- human for you. Extremely rare.” Godric’s long-time favorite, of course. Eric would accept no less to celebrate their reunion. 

“Thank you,” Godric replies with as little emotion as he has all night. Godric avoids Eric’s intense gaze, instead looking at nothing. “I am not hungry.” 

Eric only understands this as absurdity. Godric occasionally gets this way: temperamental, moody, unpredictable, temporarily anorexic. Historically speaking, it ordinarily happens because Eric has fucked up in some way. It has never lasted this long or put Godric in such danger. 

Godric is a better maker when he has fed. Godric always forgives Eric after he feeds, and allows Eric to make things right. Eric pushes not only for Godric, but also for selfish reasons, “You have to feed eventually. I doubt the Fellowship had anything to offer.” Painful red lines persist where the silver once lay on Godric’s skin. Godric is not healing. Eric does not know how long it may have been since Godric last fed. “Godric.”

Godric is silent. Whatever is happening to Godric now is different than what Eric has seen before. Godric is hardly even here, instead lost in some dark, lonely part of his mind. It hurts more than Eric lets Godric see. “Varför följde du inte med mig när jag kom och hämtade dig?” ‘ Why didn’t you leave with me when I first came for you?’

“De behandlade mig inte illa,” ‘They didn’t treat me badly,’ Godric replies innocently. None of this makes any sense to Eric.

Eric resists sighing in annoyance, “Ja, du har nämnt. Du verkar glömma att de stal dig från ditt hem, försilvrade dig och höll dig som gisslan utan försörjning. Om du kan kalla det här stället hem.” ‘ Yes, you’ve mentioned. You seem to forget they stole you from your home, silvered you, and held you hostage with no sustenance. If you can call this place home.’

Eric thinks he can see a ghost of a fond smile on Godric’s face. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking. “Du skulle bli förvånad över hur vanliga de flesta av dem är.” ‘You’d be surprised at how ordinary most of them are.’

Eric begins to lose what little patience he has left, “De gör inget annat än att blåsa upp hatets lågor för oss. Hur kan du försvara dem? Är du galen?” ‘ They do nothing but fan the flames of hatred for us. How can you defend them? Are you out of your mind?’

“Var ärlig,” ‘ Let’s be honest,’ Godric says, as if Eric has any choice at all in the matter, “vi är skrämmande.” ‘we are frightening.’ Eric’s jaw is tense. “Efter tusentals år har vi inte utvecklats. Vi har bara blivit mer brutala. Mer rovdjur. Jag ser inte faran med att behandla människor som jämlikar. The Fellowship of the Sun uppstod för att vi aldrig gjorde det.” ‘ After thousands of years, we haven’t evolved. We’ve only become more brutal. More predatory. I don’t see the danger in treating humans as equals. The Fellowship of the Sun arose because we never did so.’

Eric feels as though Godric has torn his heart out of his chest. He never should have left Godric alone a century ago. Eric should never have given up hunting Godric down to the ends of the Earth after he first disappeared. Eric was a fool to think there would not be consequences. Eric was a fool to leave Godric unprotected.

Uncomfortable silence lingers. “Var det därför du inte slogs när de tog dig? Skuld?” ‘Is that why you didn’t fight when they took you? Guilt?’ 

“Jag kunde ha dödat varenda en av dem på några minuter. Och vad skulle det ha bevisat?” ‘ I could have killed every last one of them in minutes. And what would that have proven? ’ Eric can’t understand what a 2,000 year old immortal still has to prove. Nothing Godric says is making any sense. 

“Vad vill du bevisa?” ‘What do you wish to prove?’ Eric asks, needing more information to convince himself Godric has not descended into madness. More silence. Eric gently touches Godric’s arm, just shy of the brand that rests there beneath Godric’s shirt, and offers whispers of sincerity with a heavy heart, “Det har gått för länge. Jag har saknat dig.” ‘ It’s been too long. I’ve missed you.’  

Eric suggests, “Följ med mig till mitt rum. Eller bättre, till Louisiana. Vi måste prata.” ‘Come with me to my room. Or better, to Louisiana. We need to talk.’ Godric does not move or speak. “Eller tala nu. Här. Berätta för mig sanningen som du har gömt för mig i ett sekel.” ‘Or speak now. Here. Tell me the truth you have hidden from me for a century.’ 

Godric resists his heart, which desperately craves Eric’s closeness. Godric reminds himself that he will only hurt Eric in the process. Godric closes his eyes and remains silent. “Behaga,” ‘ Please, ’ Eric squeezes Godric’s arm lightly, feeling increasingly small beside him. “Behaga. Titta på mig. Visa ditt hjärta för mig.” ‘Please. Look at me. Show your heart to me.’ Silence. “Godric,” Eric pleads.

Godric only looks toward the other room, as though Eric is not currently groveling on his knees begging for scraps of Godric’s attention. Godric is distracted by an unfitting voice in the main room. Godric identifies a young man named Luke from the Fellowship of the Sun. Even Godric isn’t quick enough to stop him, but he is able to largely shield his nest from the bomb. 

Chapter Text

3

-

Rome, ~50 B.C.

Godric awakens to total darkness, as he does each evening. Cold, dead, strong arms hold Godric’s small body tight to an all-too familiar large, iron-hard body in impossibly close quarters. Godric tastes blood in his mouth. Beneath Godric’s defensive fog of apathy, his heart pounds rebelliously against the terror of being buried alive with his master.

Godric does not recall the time before he awoke this way: freezing limbs, the heat of fear in his face and chest, a screaming urge to escape the coffin he forces himself into each morning. This is as close as a slave like Godric will ever come to a proper burial.

Godric does not recall a time before bite marks in his skin, daily blood loss, and unspeakable wounds adorned in blood-stained clothes. Godric does not recall a time before branded skin marking Godric as an object belonging to his master above all others, above Rome, above himself, above even God. 

Godric only knows being his master’s to dress, to mark, to harm, to hold, to drain, to desecrate, to torture to the brink of death only to steal Godric from death’s sweet relief once again with his magic blood. Godric’s master controls his thoughts, his body, his words and actions, his very existence.

Godric does not recall the time before exercising precise control of his heart, his face, his feelings upon waking, throughout all hours of the day, for fear the loud scrambling of his heart will tempt his master to finally still it once and for all. The only safety for Godric is in numbness.

No amount of self control can keep his master from eventually waking. “Mm…” His master’s hands tighten on Godric, “Accede propius.” ‘Come closer.’ Godric stifles his fear as his master reopens wounds from the night before and steals the blood from Godric’s neck once more. 

-

Shreveport, 2009

Godric awakens to total darkness this evening. Eric’s cold arms hold Godric to his own large, familiar frame. Godric’s heart is still, as it has been for two millennia. Godric feels the same terror he did as a human so long ago, as though his heart still beats. Godric tastes blood in his mouth.

Godric cannot understand why his master haunts him now, after all this time. Godric’s master - and maker - has long met his true death. Godric has long had reason for fear. And yet, Godric cannot deny the intrusive memories of the most violent years of his existence.

It is Eric’s, not Godric’s maker’s, hands that tighten in a sleepy haze to pull Godric impossibly closer. Godric’s fear grows in antithetical contrast to Godric’s true feelings for Eric. Godric has loved Eric without pause for a thousand years. Godric has nurtured, raised, adored, and cherished Eric for a thousand years. Godric knows no fear for his progeny. 

It is Eric that is in fear upon waking.

“I missed one?” Godric cannot protect Eric from the echoes of anxiety between their ever-connected hearts. Eric’s hands move suddenly along Godric’s body, diving beneath his shirt in search of injury. “Where?” 

Godric is reminded of yesterday’s bombing in Dallas, his last memory before waking here. Godric vaguely recalls a foggy memory of Eric sucking silver and wood from his chest in panic, fearful Godric’s heart was punctured. Godric feels the ghost of Eric’s large, dexterous fingers digging around his heart as distant memories begin to return to Godric. It occurs to Godric that he is wearing hilariously oversized clothes Eric must have dressed him in upon bringing Godric here - wherever here is.

Godric remains still and calm, still so like the human he once was in ways he could not previously understand. “No,” Godric answers. Eric thumbs Godric’s cheek, smearing blood tears. Godric does not make a habit of crying before his progeny, but Godric has held unusually poor control of his emotions recently. Many lifetimes of numbness are abandoning Godric for reasons he cannot understand. “I am well,” Godric assures with the same controlled tone he has always spoken. 

Eric used to find comfort in this steady, even tone of Godric’s, but it doesn’t suit the chaos Eric knows stirs Godric within. Eric knows Godric is lying, but not because there are wood chips in Godric’s heart.

Godric hears the familiar clinking of silver chains outside the coffin, followed by a woman cursing. “Pam,” Eric shortly diverts from the question Godric didn’t ask. 

“Rise and shine,” Pam calls sardonically from outside the casket before disappearing from the room, likely to feed. 

Eric opens the casket to a dimly lit room. Godric recognizes this empty room as Eric’s instantly, though he’s never seen this place before. Godric recognizes the ancient Viking memorabilia Eric has reclaimed over the centuries along with a very old photograph of Eric and Godric together on a long table in an otherwise bare room.

“You must be starved. Come,” Eric encourages as he climbs out of the coffin and takes long strides toward the door.

“I’m not,” Godric retaliates, though follows Eric out of the room with graceful, silent steps. Godric notices his balance is… affected. Godric looks at his wrists and finds his wounds from the silver bonds have healed. The world looks… different. It reminds Godric unpleasantly of the drunkenness of consuming vampire blood as a human. “You should not have brought me here.” Godric notices silver chains on the ground; Eric must have instructed Pamela lock the coffin shut with silver chains to keep Godric from leaving in the day.

Eric ignores Godric and calls, “Ginger!” 

“Eric,” Godric attempts again to no avail. Eric’s fear drives him. Eric knows without words of Godric’s intentions, and he will not allow it. 

An especially frail-looking human woman with a thick southern accent greets them in Eric’s nightclub, “Right over here, honey. Just finishing up the- Oh! Eric, who is this? Sweetheart, good Lord, how old are you? Shouldn’t you be in school or somethin’ darling?”

Godric watches curiously, recognizing the signs of vampire-induced insanity instantly. Godric next recognizes her carotid artery. Godric keeps his mouth closed to avoid showing his fangs. Godric should not be this affected by human blood. Something is wrong. 

Eric glamours the poor woman yet again to instruct, “Ginger, dear, this is our very good friend Godric, and he is very hungry. Don’t you want to offer him some of your blood? We would be very grateful.”

“Eric, stop this,” Godric instructs in vain. Eric is loyal to Godric before all else. Eric knows Godric intends to meet true death, and Eric will stop at nothing to protect his maker. If Eric believes blood will make him well, Eric will stop at nothing to make Godric feed. 

Ginger approaches Godric and pushes her hair aside to expose her neck as she’s done a very many times before, “Oh, of course honey. Go on ahead. After that trip all the way from Dallas, you must be hungry.” Godric closes his eyes. 

“No,” Godric replies firmly. Ginger is clearly confused, and looks to Eric for guidance. Eric loses all patience for Godric. In a fraction of a second, Eric grabs Ginger’s neck to bite her skin, exposing her blood to tempt Godric. Godric doesn’t hesitate to grab Eric’s neck and throw him across the room with only the strength he might use to flick away a bug, freeing the woman. Several barstools break Eric’s fall. “What right do you have to this human’s life?” Godric’s words are gentle, heartbroken. 

Ginger begins to scream repeatedly, beyond control. Ginger’s neck bleeds down her chest to soak her clothes. Godric tears fabric from his borrowed shirt and gently applies pressure to the woman’s wound. Godric does not glamour the woman. 

Godric offers a mantra in a soft tone, “You are safe. You are safe now. You are safe.” Soon, Ginger’s screams soften to defeated sobs. Eric watches with anger and shame from a distance until Godric instructs, “Leave us, Eric.” Eric obeys, but does not go far from Godric.

“I apologize for the suffering you have endured,” Godric whispers to Ginger once she is calm enough to receive his words. They sit on the dirty floor cross-legged facing one another. Eric listens from another room. 

Ginger is calm, though her face is covered in tears and her neck in blood. “It is my fault. It was my responsibility to end this cycle of pain, and I failed.” Ginger doesn’t understand the depth of Godric’s words, but Godric hopes someday she might find healing in this memory.

Godric glamours Ginger only once, “From this day forth, no vampire can ever control you. You are free - forever.” 

Ginger smiles sadly, thanks Godric with a long, lingering hug, and leaves Fangtasia forever. Godric remains seated and loses himself in thought. This is where Eric soon finds him. Eric, furious, crouches before Godric. He takes Godric’s hand to fill with a bottle of True Blood. “Drink,” Eric demands. 

“I am not-” Godric attempts before a swift interruption. 

“Drink!” Eric shouts in what Godric knows to be desperation and terror far more than any true anger. “Or I will force you! Why won’t you feed?!”

Godric remains silent and still. Godric does not fear Eric, and he sees no use in fighting. “What happened to you?” Eric asks. Godric doesn’t know where to begin answering Eric’s question.

Godric remains silent. “I will keep you alive by force if I must,” Eric antagonizes again, less certain in himself now. Eric cannot tolerate Godric’s apathy for him a moment longer. 

“Even if you could,” Godric looks into Eric’s large, frightened eyes and asks softly, “why would you be so cruel?”

“Why would you?” Eric retorts coldly.

“It would be a mercy,” Godric answers simply. 

“To who?” Blood flows freely from Eric’s eyes. “You failed me - is that what you believe now? After all these centuries together? You taught me all you know. Now you say all I know is wrong, all we shared together was wrong, and you plan to abandon me in the mess of your making. What mercy is this? To toss me aside when I am no longer of use to you?” They both recognize Eric’s words as dramatic and untrue, a hysterical child in a tantrum. They also both recognize the truth in Eric’s words. 

Godric is silent. He knows Eric will not let go easily, it is his nature. “You swore to me you would teach me all you know. If you’ve learned something new, you owe me that much.” Softer, Eric rests his forehead against Godric’s and pleads, “Make me understand. We will evolve together. I can-” Eric struggles even to say the words, “I can evolve. I will, for you.” 

Godric knows the depths of Eric’s heart. Eric would do or be anything for Godric. “I am not Nora. I cannot be without you.” 

Godric closes his eyes to prevent blood from reaching his cheeks. Godric’s head spins in a way a vampire should not experience. This is the responsibility of a maker: to honor promises made millennia ago, to protect and nurture and guide despite oneself. But this responsibility is not what changes Godric’s mind. It occurs to Godric that more and more, Godric is simply at the mercy of his emotions. Perhaps this is evolution. 

Godric nods slightly in agreement to Eric’s proposal. Godric rests his hand on the back of Eric’s neck fondly and sighs needlessly, “For a time.”

If Eric feels relief, he doesn’t show it. “Drink,” Eric pleads once more and squeezes Godric’s fingers over the glass bottle.

Godric knows Eric will not calm until Godric complies. Godric removes the cap and takes a sip. Godric offers the bottle to Eric, who is not amused by the gesture. Godric takes one more sip before he watches Eric’s temper ease. 

Godric takes the bottle and sets it down on the ground beside him. “What happened in Dallas?” Godric finally asks, although he knows he should not. He will only anger Eric by reminding him. He closes his eyes again in an attempt to soothe the sick feeling.

Eric’s jaw tightens at the memory. “One of the humans from the Fellowship of the Sun bombed your nest in Dallas. You… tried to stop him.”

“After,” Godric clarifies. Godric is confident the bomb did not cause this odd feeling in his body.  

Eric finds Godric’s questioning odd. “I removed the shrapnels. I gave you human blood. I told Isabel to fuck off and I brought you home.” Eric softly cups Godric’s cheek, “What is it? Tell me.”

Godric is soothed by Eric’s touch. Godric finds himself leaning into Eric’s palm in search of comfort. “Human blood?”

Eric doesn’t understand. “Yes. Sookie Stackhouse. You met her last night. She is a telepath, actually. She found you.”

Godric slowly puts the pieces together. He rubs his eyes in irritation and informs Eric, “You gave me fae’s blood.” He moves to stand to return to Eric’s coffin and the room spins fiercely. “Did I kill her?”

“No,” Eric stands with him and braces him with a hand on his lower back to keep him steady. “I don’t understand,” Eric states. “Sookie’s blood is safe.” 

Godric agrees to ease Eric’s concerns, “Yes, safe, but… potent.” He abandons the bottle of Tru Blood to return to Eric’s room.

“Potent?” Eric asks as he follows closely behind Godric. Eric has no intention of leaving Godric unattended anytime soon. He watches Godric climb back onto the coffin tiredly. Eric has never seen Godric sleep in, let alone return to rest during the day, with perhaps a very rare exception. “What’s wrong, Godric? Tell me.” 

Godric turns from Eric and buries his face in the soft pillow beneath him. He mumbles into it with a sigh, “Fairy’s blood is inebriating to vampires. Altered consciousness. Like alcohol to humans.” Eric processes this slowly. “I am not myself. Please let me rest. I must return to Dallas tomorrow night.” 

Eric finds this entertaining. “You’re drunk?” He climbs into the coffin beside Godric. Godric knows Eric will not let him rest now. Godric shifts to make space for Eric, hiding his face in Eric’s chest rather than the pillow. “Tell me how it feels.” Godric hates this. He feels embarrassed in a way he knows is illogical. “Please?”

Godric responds in a soft, displeased grunt muffled by Eric’s shirt. Godric murmurs, “The world spins. My thoughts are not my own. My skin… like bugs crawling.” 

Eric softly presses his knuckles to the exposed skin on Godric’s arm below his ripped t-shirt. “You’re warm,” Eric comments. He smiles, “You’re drunk.” Godric does not share in Eric’s intrigue. Eric runs his fingers over Godric’s ear delicately. Godric feels himself all too soothed by Eric’s touch. 

“You’re not a very fun drunk,” Eric teases. “Ginger likes it here, for your information. She’ll be back.” He can feel discomfort radiating off Godric, so he rubs his palm up and down Godric’s back as he knows Godric likes. Eric feels Godric’s muscles relax under his touch.

“Fairies?” Eric asks broadly. Of course Eric is interested in the topic, but more importantly, he desperately wants to hear Godric’s voice. Godric replies with only a grumpy grunt. Eric asks more pointedly, “You know fairies?” Godric clearly does not care to talk about this, but Eric is unrelenting.

“You do, too, as it turns out,” Godric replies. 

“Only the one,” Eric reaches up to close the lid on the coffin so Godric can be in a dark, quiet space. “How would you know what it feels like for humans to be drunk?” Godric does not reply with even a displeased sound. 

“As I recall, getting drunk is enjoyable. You should enjoy it.” Godric does not blame Eric for his words and does not wish to bring attention to his unwillingness to discuss the topic. Eric chuckles and presses a kiss to Godric’s temple, “Jag är ledsen.” ‘ I’m sorry.’ Eric knows better than to discuss Godric’s life before Eric. 

Silence takes over. Godric breathes in Eric’s scent to soothe himself. Eric eventually informs Godric, “You will not return to Dallas without me. Isabel and Stan are incapable morons, and I don’t trust them.”

Godric does not lift his head to meet Eric’s eyes, he can’t bring himself to face Eric’s disappointment. Godric’s fingers tighten on Eric’s shirt. Godric knows Eric has only love and loyalty for Godric, but Godric worries he is no longer the person deserving of Eric’s devotion.

After some time, Eric assumes Godric has fallen asleep. His voice takes a very gentle whispering tone Godric rarely hears, “It doesn’t have to be Dallas. We can go anywhere. We can go home.” Eric’s fingers dance lightly along Godric’s ear, neck, and shoulder. “Let me take you home. Let me take your pain away. Let me love you.” 

Eric closes his eyes to resist tears, “I did it before. I can do it again. I can.” Eric presses a kiss to Godric’s hairline, “Let me.”

Chapter Text

4

-

Sweden, ~930 A.D.

At first, all Godric feels is fury and hunger. It burns and aches and rots away at Godric’s flesh until it is satisfied. It is like nothing Godric has ever known. The urge to kill is, at times, stronger even than the power of his Master to control his mind. 

The burning hunger is what brings Godric to a snowy desert more far north than he has ever been. The cold soothes the heat within Godric. It is coincidence only that Godric finds that there is war here, too. Godric feeds on men who kill other men, men who pillage, rape, enslave, and kill for power.

When Godric is finally satiated of his anger and his craving for blood, his human emotions return to him. Godric finds himself surrounded in the death of his own making. Godric drowns in fear, loneliness, and loss. Godric digs through the snow and frozen dirt with his bare, blood-stained hands to bury each and every body. 

Then there is nothing. Nothing is a heavy exhaustion accumulated over a long decade of human suffering, despite acquiring more power than Godric ever imagined he could have. Nothing is darkness and emptiness and dirt and decay. Nothing is a feeling Godric did not have the privilege of humoring as a slave. Nothing is burying himself in the freezing ground through the winter - or several winters, springs, summers, and autumns - until the hunger is stronger than the nothing, at which point Godric returns to the surface to feed. 

One winter, many centuries later, the hunger comes early. A battle occurs no more than ten feet above Godric’s resting corpse, and Godric is called to rise by the scent of blood. It is only when he lays eyes on the most powerful warrior Godric has witnessed in a thousand years that Godric realizes the true reason he was awoken. 

The one they call Eric is the exact opposite of nothingness. Godric watches Eric from behind dark bushes, entranced in the warrior’s dance. Eric is fury and light and power and freedom and beauty. Eric kills with honor, but without mercy. Eric’s opponents are not allowed time to suffer. Eric is an unstoppable force. Godric’s fascination with this man holds Godric’s bloodlust at bay. 

Godric watches Eric fight from the shadows as Eric suddenly stops fighting. Eric comes upon a particularly small warrior and does something odd. He grabs the enemy with one hand and removes him from the battle. He removed the warrior’s helmet to reveal his face. Godric hears Eric ask, “Hur gammal är du?” ‘How old are you?’ 

Godric and the young warrior await cruelty that does not come. Eric tells the warrior, “Spring hem, så ser jag till att ingen följer dig.” ‘Run home, and I’ll ensure none follow you.’ The young warrior obeys. In a thousand years, Godric has never witnessed such kindness in war. 

It is the distraction of the young warrior that is the beginning of Eric’s end. A warrior sneaks up behind Eric and strikes him. Even after he receives what Godric identifies as a fatal wound, Eric exercises absolute control and does not allow the wound to stop him until the enemy is dead. Godric is moved to tears. Godric, impossibly, forgets his hunger. 

Godric gives Eric as much time with his men as he can. He follows them, listening in on their comradery, although Godric does not know why. Even as Eric bleeds out, they insist on returning him home to his wife and infant children, to his people that he leads with kindness and strength, and to his long line of lovers. “Jag är färdig,” ‘I am finished,” Eric finally admits. “Jag är färdig. Fortsätta.” ‘I am finished. Go on.’

“Inga,” ‘No,” one of his men insists. They are all in agreement. “Eric, du räddade våra liv hundra gånger. Vi lämnar dig inte för att bli uppäten av vargar.” ‘Eric, you saved our lives a hundred times. We won’t leave you to be eaten by wolves.’ 

“Vi väntar på slutet vid din sida,” ‘We’ll wait for the end by your side,’ another declares with a hand on Eric’s shoulder. Eric is very loved, and he seems to have earned this. “Vi tar ett hjältefarväl till dig” ‘We’ll give you a hero’s farewell.’

“Gudarna väntar på dig i Valhalla,” ‘The gods await you in Valhalla,’ one of the men tells Eric. If Godric has witnessed in his life such comradery, he does not recall it now. The men go on to tell Eric of this Valhalla in detail, if only to ease his suffering. “Det blir fest med kött och guld och öl.” ‘There will be a feast with meat and gold and beer.’ Godric does not understand how they can be joyous at a time like this. They are surrounded by death, and still, they share lightheartedness. 

“Kvinnor? Kommer det att finnas kvinnor?” ‘Women? Will there be women?’  One of the men asks. 

Eric somehow finds the strength to jest, “Där jag är... kommer det alltid att finnas kvinnor,” ‘Where I am… there will always be women.’ Impossibly, he smiles and finds the strength to walk as his men support his weight selflessly. 

Eric’s men build him a funeral pyre that they lie his body on. They give him his sword and shield to hold as he dies. They speak of Valhalla with excitement, although it is clear Eric does not want to die, even if it means he will soon have all the rewards the Vikings believe await him. 

“Allt kommer att bli bra,” ‘All will be well,’ one of the men tells Eric. Knowingly, he says,“Var inte rädd.” ‘Don’t be afraid.’ 

Eric argues, “Jag är inte rädd. Jag känner en vrede.” ‘I’m not afraid. I feel a wrath.’ Godric sees beauty in Eric’s heart. Eric has been dying for hours, surely only has moments left, and still, he fights. Godric feels something he has never before known, and does not have words to describe. 

It happens before Godric realizes what he’s done. Eric’s men are dead, their blood stolen. Godric tilts his head as his eyes find Eric, who lies trapped in his dying human body. Godric perches upon the funeral pyre on Eric’s body, careful not to press his weight against where he might harm Eric. Godric acts impulsively, but he cannot find it in him to stop.

Godric looks into Eric’s eyes curiously. Eric blinks up at him in surprise, and does not believe his eyes. Still, Eric is not afraid. Eric only shares Godric’s curiosity. They go on this way for some time before Eric asks, “Är du Döden?” ‘Are you Death?’ 

Godric has been called Death before, but never with such… calmness. Eric speaks to Godric like he might speak to a new acquaintance rather than the monster Godric knows himself to be. “Jag är,” ‘I am,’ Godric accepts Eric’s name for him. The language feels odd on Godric’s tongue, it is not often he speaks. 

Eric’s eyes search Godric’s face. Eric’s men’s blood dirties Godric’s face, and still, Eric says, “Men du är bara en liten pojke.” ‘But you’re just a little boy.’ This, Godric does not ever remember being called. 

Godric does not know how Eric can see any semblance of innocence or youth in him. Eric looks at Godric and sees nothing to exploit or use or fight. Eric sees Godric as a child, someone to care for and protect. Eric’s words bring an unfamiliar flutter to Godric’s chest. 

“Det är jag inte,” ‘I am not,’ Godric responds gently, amused by Eric’s assessment. Godric finds himself captivated by this human beyond logic. 

Eric turns his head to look at the bodies of his comrades on the ground. “Mina män…” ‘My men…’

Godric admits quietly, “Död.” ‘Dead.’ 

Eric does not hesitate to insult, “Du svin.” ‘You swine.’ Godric smiles. It must be centuries now since Godric last smiled. It feels ill-fitting, but… light, somehow. Eric makes Godric feel light. Godric does not want him to die.

“Jag såg dig på slagfältet. Jag har aldrig sett någon slåss som du,” ‘I saw you on the battlefield. I never saw anyone fight like you,’ Godric whispers. His voice is hoarse with lack of use, and his words are accented, but Eric understands. 

Eric speaks bravely, “Jag skulle slåss mot dig nu om jag kunde.” ‘I would fight you now if I could.’ This brings a bigger smile to Godric’s face as he laughs. The sound is unfamiliar to Godric. Eric sees fangs, tattoos, brands, and the stolen blood on Godric’s skin, and Eric is unafraid. Eric somehow sees Godric as he is, as Godric does not even see himself. 

Godric understands why Eric’s men would not leave him. Godric understands why he was so drawn to Eric, and is now so charmed by him. Godric understands what he wants from Eric. “Jag vet,” ‘I know,’ Godric smiles down at Eric still. “Det är vackert.” ‘It is beautiful.’ Eric is beautiful. 

Godric sees a weak smile on Eric’s lips before it disappears. Eric stifles a groan. Eric is in pain. “Vad väntar du på? Döda mig,” ‘What are you waiting for? Kill me,’ Eric demands. Godric’s face saddens softly.

Godric knows he is wrong to steal Eric for his own. He was wrong to kill Eric’s men to steal a precious few moments with him, and he is wrong to want more. Godric has never before considered sharing this curse of death with another. It is a fate far worse than death, but Godric wants Eric with a ferocity stronger than even his hunger for blood. “Vill du dö? Gå med dina män i Valhalla? Gå med dina förfäder? Din familj?” ‘Do you want to die? Join your men in Valhalla? Join your ancestors? Your family?’

Eric does not hesitate to answer, “Inga.” ‘No.’ He fearlessly tells Godric, “Jag vill ha liv. Jag vill kämpa och äta och älska.” ‘I want life. I want to fight and eat and love.’ Eric shows Godric another side to himself, “Jag vill ha hämnd.” ‘I want revenge.’ Eric worsens his injuries with his passion. Godric rests a hand on Eric’s wound to apply pressure and ease his suffering. 

Eric does not have much time. “Kan du vara dödens följeslagare?” ‘Could you be a companion of Death?’ Godric speaks instinctively. This is wrong, he knows, but he cannot stop his words. “Kan du gå med mig genom världen... genom mörkret? Jag ska lära dig allt jag vet.” ‘Could you walk with me through the world… through the dark?’

Eric does not resist. Godric sees hope in his eyes. “Jag ska lära dig allt jag vet.” ‘I will teach you all I know.’ Godric has little more to offer Eric. Godric is not much, but all he is will be Eric’s if Eric will give him his company. Godric rests his other hand on Eric’s chest to feel his heart beat. “Jag kommer att vara din far, bror, son. Alla.” ‘I will be your father, brother, son. All.’ Eric knows what this means. Eric will surrender Valhalla for life with Death.

“Vad är det för mig?” ‘What’s in it for me?’ Eric asks. Godric smiles irresistibly again. Eric alleviates Godric’s fears without intention. Godric feels alive. 

Godric feels Eric’s strength fleeting from him. Time is wasting. There is much more for Eric to know, but Godric chooses his words carefully. “Det du älskar mest: liv,” ‘What you love most: life,’ Godric says. 

With his dying breath, Eric chooses Godric, “Liv…” ‘Life…’ Godric drinks Eric’s blood without thinking. Eric’s blood does not bring the shame, heartache, and pain blood usually brings Godric. Eric’s blood makes Godric want to keep smiling. 

Eric tenses and struggles with what little strength he has, fighting the sensation of death even when he has been promised life. Godric bites into his own wrist and holds it to Eric’s lips, “Dryck, Eric.” ‘Drink, Eric.’ Eric obeys. Godric continues to drink Eric’s blood until he only tastes his own blood in Eric’s veins. Eric loses consciousness, his body finally relaxing.

Deep in the cold Earth, Godric holds Eric close to his chest that day and rests comfortably like he never had before. Godric feels as far away from the pain of his past as he has ever known. The loneliness, the emptiness, the loss, and the nothingness fade, replaced with Eric’s heart of gold. They share centuries of laughter, friendship, faith, loyalty, and love. Eric is Godric’s and Godric is Eric’s. 

-

Shreveport, 2009 

“I didn’t quite expect him to… sleep so much,” Pam comments, trying to make light of a massively fucked-up situation. Godric has not left Eric’s coffin in several days, nor has he been responsive to Eric’s conversational attempts. Pam and Eric stand just outside the bedroom door, as though Godric can’t hear them. “Exactly how long are we supposed to keep this up for? How long can we?” 

Pam’s tone must sound harsh to Eric, but Godric recognizes her only intention is to ground Eric. Eric, being Eric, is not receptive to this. “If you have a problem with the timeline, perhaps you can talk some sense into him. I have political matters to attend to.” 

“Must be important if you’re leaving a suicidal teenager older than Jesus with me,” Pam teases without much tact. Eric is not amused. 

“Pam, I am trusting you with…” Eric offers more sincerity than is typical of his interactions as he trails off attempting to find the words to describe all Godric means to Eric without making Pam feel insignificant in comparison. 

“Just go. I’ll… bond with Grandpa,” Pam hugs Eric warmly. She whispers, “Be safe.” Eric presses a lingering kiss to Pam’s forehead, gives one lingering look to his coffin, and departs. 

Nights at Fangtasia have been especially busy lately, and Pam is feeling Ginger and Eric’s absence. Pam is acting bouncer, server, bartender, and most unfortunately, dishwasher these days. Pam loves her business and will do anything to make it thrive, but she did not open this bar with the expectation of running it alone. 

Pam heats up a bottle of True Blood to bring to the ancient being taking up residence in her maker’s room. Pam takes the designated suicide watch seat beside the coffin, confident Godric is awake. She takes a swig of artificial blood for herself and cringes slightly, “A positive. I couldn’t pay people to drink this stuff, but it comes cheaper as a bundle pack, so.” Pam shrugs, “What do you think?”

Godric finds Pamela endearing. Eric was sheepish when he first told Godric of his progeny. Godric still cannot understand why Eric would feel anything but pride for Pam. Godric smiles tiredly and sits up to face Pam politely, “I’ve had worse.” It concerns Pam just how much effort it seems to take for Godric to move, but she lets it go for now. Pam raises a curious brow, and Godric is happy to indulge, “Eric never told you of the Black Death years?”

“Eric never tells me anything,” Pam complains. “He doesn’t exactly help out around here, either.”

Pam isn’t able to convince Godric to feed, but she does convince him to wash about a thousand dirty glasses and give her a few hundred years of dirt on Eric. Godric and Pam bond over their favorite person. Pam knows Eric won’t take kindly to Godric sharing Eric’s most intimate memories with Pam after ignoring Eric for several days, but hopes Eric won’t be too angry, considering Pam got him out of bed for the first time all week.

Pam slowly sips on a bottle of Tru Blood as Godric shares a memory of contracting some vampire disease about 700 years ago. The story shouldn’t be as lighthearted as Godric tells it, but Godric worships Eric, and only shares these stories as a means of sharing his fondness for Eric. “…Eric was furious with me, I knew even through the sickness. It lasted only a few days, but he was at my side each moment. He did not rest.” 

Godric smiles with love in his eyes as he removes a freshly clean and burning hot tray of glasses from the dishwasher and adds another. “For a century after, Eric would feed first. He insisted he would rather be sick than see me sick again.” Godric feels a sickness in his heart now to think of what he has put Eric through recently.

Pam shakes her head thoughtfully, “Funny, that. I always heard vampires can’t refuse their makers, but I never found it to be true myself. Not when it matters and not when Eric’s being a dick.” Godric smiles fondly. “What about you? Did you always do everything your maker said?” 

Godric is quiet for a few long moments. “I hope it’s alright that I ask,” Pam tests the waters more gently. “I know you don’t talk about it. That’s what Eric said, anyway.” 

Technically, Eric’s exact words were, ‘ Do not bring up Godric’s human life. It is not for us to know. And it’s rude to ask.’ 

Godric’s fond smile is gone. Godric suddenly looks very old to Pam, like he’s wearing all 2,000 years on his face. Godric continues to wash glasses with precise gentleness. Finally, Godric replies in nearly a whisper, “I showed my maker his true death.” 

Pam thinks she misheard Godric. She must have, because what he says is impossible. A vampire cannot destroy their maker, even by command. It’s unheard of. Pam must wear her discomposure on her face, because Godric adds, “I realize this is not commonplace. In my two thousand years, I have yet to meet another who could demonstrate this disregard of our nature.” Pam wonders if Godric has ever spoken this aloud before to anyone but Eric.

Fearless, Pam inquires, “So, what’d the bastard do to deserve it?” Godric is silent. Where would he begin to explain, for the first time in his very long afterlife, the events that led to Godric betraying the person who stole his life and gave him his afterlife? “Must’a done something worth hating.” Eventually, Pam suggests, “You know, I don’t say this a lot, but it might help. To talk about it.”

Godric considers Pam’s suggestion. “We think we are immune to our humanity, that several lifetimes in death can erase our vulnerabilities. It is not true.” 

Godric’s words frighten Pam. It’s an odd sentiment coming from a calm, even-tempered, wise ancient such as Godric. Older vampires usually lean closer to sociopathic, but then again, Eric always said there’s no one like Godric. “I would have taken his life a thousand times over without hesitation if I had the chance,” Godric admits. “I would kill him now, and take great pleasure in doing so.”

It’s a sick thing for a vampire to say, even by vampire standards, but Pam knows whoever made Godric deserved what he had coming to him. She sure has her fair share of people she’d like to kill a thousand times over. Still, it’s impossible for Pam to imagine ever feeling that way about Eric. Despite his faults, Eric is everything to Pam. Pam thinks maybe she has Godric to thank for that. 

Pam’s afterlife has been wonderful. Pam has had more love from Eric than everyone she’d ever known in her human life. Pam is safe and loved and free because of Eric. Pam is sure Eric feels the same way for Godric, considering how he worships the ancient vampire. “How’d you turn out so good?” Pam finds herself asking casually, as though it isn’t the foundation of the most important relationship in her existence. “Eric credits you for his success. What’s your excuse, since your maker was such a piece of shit?”

“Eric,” Godric answers simply. Eric is as much father, brother, and son to Godric as Godric is to Eric. Eric is everything to Godric. Everything good about Godric is Eric’s doing. Eric would never speak of Godric this way to Pamela or anyone, but Godric feels free to share the truth with Pamela, “I was scarcely more than feral when I found Eric. He taught me to be… human.”

Pam smiles and teases, “You best not let Eric hear you talk like that, who knows what he’d do to prove you wrong?” Godric hums in agreement, his eyes softening at the thought. “Were you your maker’s only progeny?” The question is not pointed, but even Pamela can see Godric tense at the question. “I don’t suppose you keep in touch.”

The distinct sound of the front door opening distracts them both. It’s not Eric, it’s… someone human. Godric and Pamela share a glance before heading out, “Can’t you read? We’re fuckin’ closed!” Pamela shouts. “What the fuck are you doin’ here? God damn it. I told you, Grandpa, we just can’t get rid of the needy bitch.”

Godric cannot believe his eyes. The woman called Ginger who offered him her blood several days ago returns. “Hey there, sugar. Did you miss me?”

“No the fuck I did not, Ginger,” Pamela replies. “I swear to God, she’s like herpes, she just keeps comin’ back.” 

“Is Eric here?” Ginger asks with a smile.

Godric approaches the woman with a more kind demeanor, “Why have you returned, Ginger? I freed you.”

Ginger takes Godric’s hand, “And I thank you for that, that was so mighty thoughtful of you. I took a few days off to think about it, and now I’m back to work. Look, I even got my nails done.” Ginger shows Godric and Pamela her pink acrylic nails.

“She’s got a thing for Eric. She showed up thirty years ago and just won’t go. Trust me, I have tried everything,” Pamela explains. Godric does not think he has ever met anyone so fearless.

“You want to be here, Ginger?” Godric asks in shock.

“Where else would I go?” Ginger laughs a little, “Y’all are like family to me.” She steps behind the bar to prepare for the bar’s opening. Pamela gives Godric a defeated shrug.

When Eric finally returns after the bar is once again closed, Fangtasia is cleaner than he’s ever seen it. Perhaps he should have fired Ginger long ago. Eric can hear Pam and Godric laughing together from the other room. Eric can’t recall when he last heard Godric’s laughter. Eric’s day has been miserable, but this is enough to change Eric’s tune. All things considered, Eric isn’t in a particularly unhappy mood when he intrudes upon Godric and Pam’s moment, “Pam.” Eric nods his head toward the hall. 

“See you tomorrow night,” Pam bids goodbye to Godric with a kiss to his cheek before leaving the room with Eric. Godric touches her cheek affectionately and offers a soft smile as a ‘goodnight.’ Eric shouldn’t be surprised that Godric would be the first person in a century to soften Pam’s hard shell of sarcasm and venom. The surprising part is how Pam softened Godric. “You look awful,” Pam compliments in the hall. “What happened?” 

Eric ignores Pam’s question. “Did he feed?” Pam should have known that’s all that matters to Eric. Pam shakes her head. Eric rolls his eyes, “I’ll take care of it. Just go to ground. After sunset, I need you to pay a visit to our friend Lafayette.” 

“Eric-” Eric doesn’t even give Pam a chance to share all the good news before Eric is off to heat up a bottle of Tru Blood. Pam scoffs and follows him, “Eric, you should try listening to him. Get him to talk. I know that’s not how you two are, but I’m telling you, you’re never gonna work things out if you don’t try.” Eric is too focused on Godric to give notice to Pam’s irritation. “Fine. Asshole,” Pam curses Eric quietly and retires for the day. 

Eric returns to his room. Godric is lying in the oversized coffin built for an oversized Viking king, his palms beneath his head and elbows spread wide. Godric looks comically small. Eric sits beside the coffin, attempting to gauge Godric’s feelings telepathically. Finally, Godric offers, “Speak your mind.”

Eric hates opposing Godric, not only because he is Eric’s maker, but because Eric loves him. Eric decides on a relatively peaceful topic, “How did you get Pam to clean today?” 

A faint smile ghosts Godric’s expression, “I cleaned.” 

Eric clearly does not approve, teasing, “Is that why you sent Ginger away? So you can be our housekeeper?” 

“I sent Ginger away because you were destroying her mind,” Godric’s tone is a kind opposition to his critical words, “but I should not have assumed she was here unwillingly. I apologize.”

Eric smirks and rubs it in playfully, “I told you she’d return. Was I wrong?” Godric offers a soft, apologetic smile. 

Silence sets in. Eric bites his tongue to keep from escalating the conversation. Godric is in an amicable mood now, and Eric needs that. “I forgive you. Now, please feed,” Eric offers the glass to Godric. Godric is silent. Eric struggles with his temper on a good day, and Godric is testing his patience without mercy. “Why?”

“I do not require blood.” Eric does not accept this answer. Under the pressure of Eric’s hard gaze, Godric offers Eric the truth, “I take no pleasure in it.”

“Nobody takes pleasure in Tru Blood,” Eric responds with intentional disregard for Godric’s absurd feelings. “Anything, Godric. I will bring you anything. I will bring you an organic vegan, I will bring you a rural chieftain, I will bring you a bear, I will bring you a fairy or invent a new flavor of Tru Blood. I will start a war so you may feed without guilt. Feed on me, take all the blood I have. Just feed.” Eric does not need to share his feelings for Godric to see the fear in his eyes. 

Godric returns Eric’s desperate gaze with those sad eyes Eric does not understand. “I’m sorry,” is Godric’s only response.

“Hur länge?” ‘How long?’ Eric asks. Godric’s answer is in the silence hanging between them. “Jag visste att något var fel. I Belgien före Pam och igen i Tyskland. Du ljög för mig.” ‘I knew something was wrong. In Belgum before Pam and again in Germany. You lied to me.’

“Det var dags för dig att hitta din egen väg-” ‘It was time for you to find your own path-’ Godric’s attempts are futile. 

“Jag vill inte höra det igen. Om din väg leder dit jag inte kan följa, är det ingen väg alls,” ‘I don’t want to hear that again. If your path leads where I can’t follow, it is no path at all,’ Eric doesn’t know when their argument switched to Old Norse, as it often does in passionate moments. Eric recalls speaking these words to Godric many times over the years. Eric can hardly believe they’re arguing over this again. 

“Du är min Skapare, ja, men även om du inte var det, skulle min lojalitet fortfarande vara din.” ‘ You are my Maker, yes, but even if you were not, my loyalty would still be yours.’ Godric does not reply, having no wish to upset Eric. “Varför skulle du tro att jag skulle förslava Ginger? Tycker du så lågt om mig?” ‘Why would you think I would enslave Ginger? Do you think so low of me?’

“Naturligtvis inte-” ‘Of course not-’ Godric begins before Eric again interrupts.

“Inga fler lögner, Godric,” ‘ No more lies, Godric,’ Eric demands while he still has the upper hand in this argument. The sadness and tiredness steadily returns to Godric’s face. Eric knows it is his fault, but he cannot continue the way Godric would have them continue. “Nora, the Fellowship of the Sun, jävla Ginger, allt hänger ihop. Berätta för mig.” ‘Nora, the Fellowship of the Sun, fucking Ginger, it’s all connected. Tell me.” 

Godric looks into Eric’s angry, pained eyes and professes honestly, “Jag har aldrig berättat en lögn för dig.” ‘ I have never lied to you.’

“Du ljuger nu. Hur kan du säga det till mig?” ‘ You’re lying now. How can you say that to me?’ Eric laughs cynically.

“Det är jag inte-” ‘I am not-’ Godric attempts again.

“Du dömer mig för min behandling av ingefära, och det är så här du behandlar mig,” ‘You judge me for my treatment of Ginger, and this is how you treat me,’ Eric pushes at Godric’s insecurities bravely, desperate for answers or emotion or any information at all from Godric. “Min lojalitet, min lojalitet, mitt hjärta är ditt - det är allt ditt, jag är ditt, och du skickar iväg mig i ett århundrade, som om jag inte betyder mer för dig än den där fang-banger-horan med en vampyrslavfetisch-” ‘My allegiance, my loyalty, my heart is yours - it is all yours, I am yours, and you send me away for a century, like I mean no more to you than that fang-banger whore with a vampire slavery fetish-’

“Vad skulle du veta om sådana saker? Vad skulle du veta om slaveri?” ‘What would you know of such things? What would you know of slavery?’ Godric does not shout, but he has a quiet way of commanding attention that he uses now, intentionally or not. Eric silences.

Curious and fearless, Eric asks tenderly, “Vad skulle du veta?” ‘ What would you?’ Silence returns. Eric understands, and retracts his question. “Du har aldrig talat till mig om ditt mänskliga liv. Det är inte för mig att veta.” ‘You’ve never spoken to me of your human life. It is not for me to know.’

Godric sits up in the coffin, his tone softening, “Not for the reasons you think.” It is not easy for Eric to understand, “Mitt människoliv var bara skam. Jag ville radera det och börja på nytt. Med dig. Jag inser nu att det är... omöjligt.” ‘My human life was only shame. I wished to erase it and begin anew. With you. I realize now it is… impossible.’ 

Eric idolizes Godric, and has done so since he found Eric in a frozen tundra and gave him this afterlife. Nothing, certainly not the knowledge that Godric was a slave, could shake Eric’s devotion, but Eric sees Godric… more whole now. Godric made every effort to only show Eric the parts of Godric that are Eric’s. Godric’s millennium before Eric simply are not part of their lives now. 

Godric was Death to Eric, yes, but Godric was also a dirty, lost, sad, frightened slave child. Godric is more than an ancient vampire more powerful and wise than Eric could ever hope to be; Godric is also painfully human. It changes more than Eric’s view of Godric, it changes his worldview. Godric saved Eric, but Godric needs Eric to save him, too.

Godric takes Eric’s hand, “Vi kan inte radera de mänskliga delarna av oss själva. Hur mycket vi än försöker.” ‘We cannot erase the human parts of ourselves. No matter how hard we try.’ This feels familiar: Godric holding Eric’s hand, instructing Eric on the way of the world. The world keeps changing, and so does Godric.

Eric pleads with a tight grip on Godric’s hand, “Lämna mig inte, Godric.” ‘Do not leave me, Godric .’ Silence sits between them. “Jag kommer att skydda dig från solens gemenskap. Jag ska hämnas ditt människoliv. Jag ska bli pacifist. Jag kommer att älska dig som en vampyr, en människa, en slav - vad som helst. Jag kommer att vara vem du än vill att jag ska vara, och jag kommer att vara din. Far, bror, son, älskare - allt. Jag kommer att skydda dig från dig själv. Lämna mig inte; detta är allt jag ber dig om.” ‘I will protect you from the Fellowship of the Sun. I will avenge your human life. I will become a pacifist. I will love you as a vampire, a human, a slave - anything. I will be whoever you need me to be, and I will be yours. Father, brother, son, lover - everything. I will protect you from yourself. Do not leave me; this is all I ask of you.’

With the grace of an angel, Godric stands before Eric and cups his cheek in Godric’s small palm, “Jag var vilse, och jag hittade dig. Du lärde mig kärlek.” ‘I was lost, and I found you. You taught me love.’ Godric wipes Eric’s blood tears away, “Jag är så ledsen att allt jag kunde erbjuda dig var rädsla och hat. Det är allt jag visste.” ‘ I am so sorry all I could offer you was fear and hatred. It was all I knew.’

Eric internally disagrees vehemently, but knows Godric will not hear his protests. Eric grabs Godric’s wrist firmly and filters his words carefully, “Ge mig kärlek nu.” ‘Offer me love now. ’ Eric would say anything to make Godric want to live again, it’s just a matter of saying what Godric needs to hear. 

This, however, comes as naturally as waking at sunset. “Älska mig och börja om med mig igen. Nu, och så många gånger som det tar,” ‘Love me and begin anew with me again. Now, and as many times as it takes,’ Eric’s lips firmly meet Godric’s as they have countless times before. 

Godric cannot bring himself to stop Eric, although he knows he should for Eric’s sake. Godric cannot keep the world from melting away, nor keep himself from melting under Eric’s touch. Eric’s fears melt away. This is not an act of desperation, but an act of longing, wanting, and love. 

Godric holds far less control of his emotions now than he ever did as a human. Perhaps because Godric’s human emotions did not include pleasure. This came from Eric, and it is far too sweet to deny. Godric was never particularly good at denying this to Eric; this has not changed.

Godric and Eric quickly slip into an urgency for one another, realizing just how long their bodies have missed one another. Hands travel and grab and wander with purpose and craving, with detailed knowledge of one another’s bodies. The room echoes their soft, breathy sighs as they increase in volume. Clothes find the floor. They slam against a sturdy wall before finding their way back into Eric’s coffin. Their bodies move together like the earth around the sun: timeless, natural, without thought, without reservation, without shame.

This is the first real thing Godric has felt in a very long time. For a time, the nothingness disappears, replaced by pleasure, joy, love, Eric . 

Eric’s body presses into Godric’s with the rhythm of the ocean they both knew intimately in their human lives, the same ocean by which their lives and bodies joined in death so many centuries ago. A warmth of friction and lust grows between them. Their lips don’t part for a moment, leaving whispers of affection trapped between them. The fear and nothingness Godric felt upon waking is gone. All Godric can feel now is Eric. 

Eric is entirely lost in Godric. How Eric could ever allow them to become separated is a mystery. Nothing could ever be more important than this. Eric swears to the gods he’s long forsaken that he will never be so foolish again. Godric’s is Eric’s to cherish and care for forever. 

Lightning passes between them again and again. Godric clutches Eric as though he might fall straight through the earth if it isn’t Eric that keeps him afloat. Eric is so lost in the pleasure of Godric’s body enveloping his own; he nearly forgets his intentions. “Ta mig djupare ikväll,” ‘Take me deeper tonight,’ Eric whispers against Godric’s skin near the height of their union, his breath hitching involuntarily with pleasure. “Ta mig. Jag är din.” ‘ Take me. I am yours.’

Godric recalls immediately the taste of Eric’s blood, the feeling of his blood in Godric’s veins. This craving is a luxury, not a need. A vampire does not need the blood of another vampire, but Godric needs Eric’s blood now. Godric cannot deny this. Godric’s nothingness overshadows hunger, but Eric enlightens it once more. Godric is starved of touch and affection and love and Eric. 

Eric’s neck is pressed against Godric’s mouth. Godric’s nose brushes against the soft skin there with each of Eric’s thrusts. Godric breathes in Eric’s scent with great pleasure. Godric could not stop himself if he wanted to.

Eric moans gutterally as he feels Godric’s sharp, familiar fangs pierce his skin. They both recall immediately their first meeting a millennia ago. Good sex feels a lot like death, Eric silently reminisces. At least, the pleasurable death Godric gave him. Ecstasy races between them. They are one.

Chapter Text

5

-

Sweden, ~931 A.D.

“Kom, tvätta med mig,” ‘Come, wash with me,’ Godric’s Viking encourages light-heartedly, as he always does as he bathes. Godric sits calmly nearby with his eyes closed as the enormous man sits cross-legged in a creek of freezing water and washes away blood and dirt. Godric thinks Eric might wash himself every single day if there was more clean, unfrozen water in the taiga they reside in. Godric ordinarily hates humanity, but finds Eric’s connection to his humanity oddly charming. Godric had long forgotten what it felt to be so close to humanity. 

“Även björnar tvättar,” ‘Even bears wash,’ Eric teases. Eric likes to tease Godric, testing the boundaries between them. Godric finds this endearing. Eric often wonders how Death is so patient. “Det kommer inte att göra ont. Jag ska visa dig hur.” ‘It will not hurt. I will show you how.’

Eric splashes water at his maker playfully. Godric smiles faintly, somberly. Eric is always this way after he feeds. He is still so very young, Godric can still smell Eric’s human blood persisting under Eric’s skin. So very young he still does not know Death is a filthy thing that cannot be cleaned, not even with soap, cold creek water, and a very kind and honorable Viking. Godric wonders when Eric will see this.

When the Viking deems himself clean, he returns from the creek, dresses himself in stolen clothes, and sits beside Godric. Godric more closely resembles the creek rocks now covered in the grime Eric left behind than he does a person. Godric’s clothes, skin, and hair have all blended into one muddled umber color. Only his light eyes resemble the water’s natural color. “Varför tvättar du inte?” ‘Why don’t you wash?’ Godric’s progeny asks innocently. 

Godric is usually patient with and fond of Eric’s queries, but he does not like what this question makes him feel. Godric turns his head to face away from Eric. Godric knows from experience that if he looks into Eric’s eyes, the question will feel worse. Eric is patient with Godric’s silence.

“Inte ens en björn kan tvätta bort sina ärr,” ‘Even a bear cannot wash away its scars,’ Godric answers cryptically, as he often does. Eric does not understand right away, but this boundary he does not test. For now. 

What may be several weeks or several months later, war leads Godric and Eric south. Something about this battle feels wrong before it begins. Godric and Eric drink their fill. There is only one survivor: a fatally wounded child soldier. It is too late for even Death to save. Eric knows it is not for his own benefit that Godric ends the child’s suffering. Godric buries the child. 

Godric is very quiet and very still for a long time after this. Eric’s Death is a ghost of himself. He does not eat or sleep or talk for so long, Eric worries Godric will find his own death. Eric cannot allow this. 

Eric drags his Death onward. They soon find the dark, crashing, endless waves of the freezing sea. Godric sits in the shallow waters near the shore while Eric cleans himself once again. This time, Eric doesn’t ask Godric’s permission to wash him. Eric sits before Godric and gently rubs soap into Godric’s damp skin. Godric does not resist. Godric watches Eric’s eyes as though he’s gazing at the stars in the sky. Eric is half convinced his Death is looking through Eric’s eyes to something far, far away. 

It isn’t long before Eric finds his Bear’s scars. Tattoos and brands adorn Godric’s chest, arms, and back, although Eric doesn’t recognize the symbols. Eric’s fingers tenderly touch the dark lines on Godric’s surprisingly pale chest. A drop of blood falls onto Eric’s hand. Another. Godric’s face is emotionless, but blood tears leave trails down his cheeks and neck. The secrets written on Death’s skin are not for Eric to know. 

Eric tenderly washes Godric’s hair. Godric feels raw and sorely exposed, but Eric’s touch soothes all. Eric’s fingers work along Godric’s scalp as flakes of dried blood, dirt from the ground they sleep in, and who knows what else is released. It occurs to Eric that he did not know until now what Death truly looks like. 

Godric is Death still, but he is also very young, and Eric knows he has suffered more than anyone ought to. Godric couldn’t have been older than a teenager when he became Death, very much like that child soldier. It occurs to Eric for the first time that another Death once claimed Godric just as Godric claimed Eric. 

Eric’s hand lingers in Godric’s soft, clean hair. “Du är vacker.” ‘You are beautiful,’ Eric finds himself saying under the loud crashing of the waves and the roar of the ocean air. It is true. Eric has been to many places and killed many men. Eric has never seen one like Godric, with eyes the color of both the sea and the forest, and dark hair the color of night. Eric has never known one like Godric, with kindness, patience, and a soul so deep Eric is sure he’ll never see the bottom of it. 

Eric’s lips press a soft, lingering kiss to Death’s forehead. Eric doesn’t know when or how they begin to kiss like lovers, but their mouths find one another like magnets now. Eric has kissed many, but never any like Godric. Without words or inhibitions, as though the most natural act in the world, Godric and Eric’s bodies move together as one. It is the only thing Eric has ever felt that is more powerful than blood. 

Eric pulls Godric into his lap without daring to break their kiss. Godric’s legs wrap around Eric’s hips. Godric’s clean skin is softer than it ought to be. Eric explores Godric’s body and finds even his burnt, scarred skin is soft; even the skin inside him is soft. Godric’s pleasured moans are soft in Eric’s ear, where his kisses are soft against Eric’s neck. Godric’s small hands in Eric’s hair are soft, too. Eric had not expected Death to be so good to Eric. 

Godric had not known this desire before Eric. Godric makes love with Eric now on the beach because they both want one another. It is not to please Eric or to manipulate him like the intimacies of Godric’s past. Eric is not like anyone Godric has known before. Eric gives Godric all without any insistence of reciprocation, as Godric gives to Eric. Godric gives Eric his love and his body now because he wants to; because it feels more right than anything Godric has ever known, and he wants Eric to feel the rightness, too. 

Godric and Eric know the function of this union of bodies well, but neither has ever before known the union of hearts they now feel. It is an unparalleled pleasure. It is natural as the sea lapping against the shore. There is no pain, no shame, no falsities, no fear, no selfishness. 

There is no power, no god, none above Eric. Godric gives Eric his worship because Godric loves Eric. There is no complication. 

When Eric presses himself carefully into Godric’s body, it is for both their pleasure. This is not something Godric previously knew. Eric presses into parts of Godric that feel like magic. After a thousand years, Godric can still be surprised. Godric trusts Eric with everything he is, and Eric cherishes Godric. Godric did not know what it was to be loved the way Eric loves him. 

When Eric lies Godric’s back gently down on the sand to bring them a more deep pleasure, Godric does not feel dominated as he expects. He feels lifted up, light, safe. Eric is very different than what Godric knew before him. Godric thinks he missed Eric before Eric ever existed. 

“Kommer du att dricka mitt blod igen?” ‘Will you drink my blood again?’ Eric asks between kisses, struggling to find the willpower to speak instead of kiss. “Nu. Jag vill ge er alla. Jag vill att vi ska vara ett.” ‘Now. I wish to give you all. I want us to be one.’

Godric looks up into Eric’s eyes and finds only sincerity and love. Godric nods. Eric slows his hips and tilts Godric’s chin up just slightly to silently catch his attention. Eric wants to hear Godric agree. “Ja,” ‘Yes,’ Godric agrees in a whisper. Eric smiles, and Godric cannot resist reciprocating. “Vi är ett. Mitt blod finns alltid i dig. Jag är med dig alltid. Smaka dig själv i mitt blod.” ‘We are one. My blood is always in you. I am with you always. Taste yourself in my blood.’ 

They make love and drink each other’s blood on the beach until dawn is very nearly on the horizon. They go to ground in a nearby cave wrapped tightly around one another, as they do every morning. They are one. Eric never learns of Godric’s past, and they are happy together for many centuries. Eric loves Godric, and Godric loves Eric. This is always true, forever. 

-

Shreveport, 2009

Eric wakes from his slumber slowly and peacefully. Eric struggles to recall the last day he’s slept this well. He lies sprawled out on top of Godric, who would surely have suffocated in the night if he required air. As it is, Godric sleeps with a tranquil expression. Eric struggles to recall the last time Godric has looked remotely unburdened. Their fingers are intertwined. 

It is Eric’s full intention to remain here with Godric as long as he possibly can. Moments like these are rare, especially these days, but a persistent knock at the front door demands Eric’s attention. Eric takes all the care in the world to remove himself from the coffin without disturbing Godric. He appears to be successful. 

“Nan, what a… surprise,” Eric greets disdainfully as he opens the front door for his least favorite vampire on the face of the earth right now. Of course Nan fucking Flanagan is here to ruin Eric’s serenity.

“The feeling is mutual. Lucky for you, I’m not here for you. Where’s Godric?” At least Eric and Nan can agree on one thing.

“The sheriff is missing? Again?” Eric feigns shock. 

Nan doesn’t buy it. “You won’t mind if I see for myself.”

“This is how the AVL chooses to waste resources?” Eric provokes in hopes Nan will lose interest in Godric. The last thing Godric needs is Nan fucking Flanagan giving him even more reasons to kill himself. “Unwarranted searches? The Fellowship of the Sun took him the first time. Why not harass those terrorists first?” 

Nan allows Eric to antagonize her longer than expected. Naturally, it’s Godric who puts an end to it. “Eric, Nan,” Godric greets calmly from the bar. Godric is wearing the most respectable clothes he could find, sleeves and ankles rolled so Godric isn’t altogether drowning in Eric’s clothes. Eric sighs in defeat and Nan pushes past to see Godric. “You will have to forgive Eric. He was only being loyal to me. He intends no disrespect.” 

“Finally, the man of the hour,” Nan rolls her eyes. “Sit.” Godric obediently joins her at a collection of several low chairs in the middle of the bar. 

Eric follows and argues with Godric, “You don’t have to tolerate-”

“I know,” Godric interrupts Eric. “Please leave us, Eric.” 

“Stay,” Nan instructs as she takes a seat and pulls out a notepad. 

“I take full responsibility,” Godric attempts to redirect Nan.

“You bet you will,” Nan agrees cruelly. “Sit, Mr. Northman.”

Godric tries again, “Eric had no part-”

“Sit down, Eric,” Nan instructs for what Godric knows will be the final time. Eric sits at Godric’s right side. 

“Do you have any fucking idea of the PR mess you’ve made? A kidnapping, a near mass murder, and a suicide bombing in the matter of… what? A night? Tell me everything. Start with the kidnapping.” It isn’t a pleasant conversation. Godric only wishes Eric didn’t have to hear it. All Godric can do is choose his words carefully enough to keep Eric and Nan from destroying one another. 

Godric answers Nan’s questions directly and simply, occasionally commanding his Viking to step down. “I will make amends, I swear it,” Godric promises to Nan - and Eric - at the conclusion of their meeting. Godric is exhausted. 

“Take it easy, it’s just a few signatures,” Nan jests, as though Godric’s behavior is not deeply concerning, as though Godric isn’t here at Fangtasia on suicide watch, as though Eric’s whole world isn’t one act away from shattering entirely. 

Godric signs some papers and Nan takes her leave. Godric sits silently, lost in thought as Eric escorts Nan out. Eric’s jaw is tight as he returns to Godric and asks, “What do you have planned?” 

Godric’s attention is delayed. “Hmm?” Godric finally looks up at Eric. 

“Your ‘amends’. Tell me what you have planned,” Eric demands as he kneels before Godric. 

Godric doesn’t answer right away. “Look in my heart,” Godric requests cryptically. 

This only angers Eric. “Look into mine,” Eric seethes. “If you think I will allow you to-”

“Oh, there you two are,” Pam greets as she finally meets them in the bar. How Pam slept through all that, Eric won’t begin to try to justify. Pam asks with altogether too much perk, “What’d I miss?” 

Another knock at the door. “Go fuck yourself, Nan!” Eric shouts over his shoulder, frustrated with the endless demands on Godric’s time. 

“Nan?” Pam asks in confusion.

A very non-Nan voice responds, “It’s Sam, actually. You might not remember me, but listen, I need your help.”

“Go fuck yourself, Sam!” Eric shouts at the closed door without second thought.

Sam calls back through the door, “It’s about Sookie.”

Godric stands and moves to open the door for this Sam. Eric and Pam don’t stop him, but Eric expresses silent annoyance. Sam stands with two young, frightened children at his side. “You are a friend of Sookie Stackhouse?” Godric asks. Sam nods, cautious to say too much. 

Godric steps aside and holds the door open, “Please. A friend of Sookie is a friend of ours. Pamela, please will you find food and drink for the little ones?” It irritates Eric that all Pam does is roll her eyes before complying with Godric’s request. She already likes Godric more than Eric. “Please, sit.” 

“Thanks,” Sam and the children sit hesitantly. Godric takes his seat again beside Eric and watches Sam patiently. The children watch Godric and Eric with equal curiosity. “Uh- honestly, I don’t know where to start here, so I’ll just say it. A maenad has taken over Bon Temps. She’s controlling everyone’s minds. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Only one?” Godric asks. Sam nods, although finds the question concerning. “Vampires are prey to maenads,” Godric informs the small group. Eric has never heard of this creature before. “Their blood is toxic to us. We may not be the help you wish for.”

“What else do you know? Listen, if you know as much about these things as I hope you do, I came to the right place. All I’m askin’ for is information, um-” Sam tries not to sound too desperate or excited in front of the kids, but to be frank, Sam already likes this guy a whole lot more than Eric or Bill. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I got your name.”

“I am called Godric,” he answers. “What would you like to know, Sam, friend of Sookie?” Eric doesn’t always hear Godric’s age when he speaks, but he hears it now speaking to these young mortals.

“Everything,” Sam admits. “You happen to know how to kill a maenad? That’d be a fine place to start.”

Godric answers somewhat unhelpfully, “I have only known maenads to die when they choose so.”

“Why would a maenad want to die?” Sam asks rhetorically.

Godric misses Sam’s irony. He explains, “All maenads want to die. To be with their god. To be free of mankind.” 

Sam chuckles without humor, “Not this maenad. Her whole thing is partying with mankind and sacrificing mankind and overall being a b-i-t-c-h to mankind.”

“A bitch?” Cody asks. Sam’s face flushes. Pamela arrives with small packages of peanuts, candy, and water bottles that she drops onto the coffee table between them. The children’s attention is immediately caught by the candy.

“A poor substitute for a maenad’s true purpose,” Godric answers Sam’s question. “All she does, she does to be united with her god.” Eric knows Godric’s knowledge about the world is endless, but all the recent discussion of fairies and maenads, both of which Eric had no idea existed, reminds Eric that Godric lived a thousand years before him. Even after all this time, it is odd to think of Godric as anything other than a lost boy wandering the snow until he stumbled onto Eric.

“Does that happen?” Sam asks, confused. “I mean, the god isn’t real, is it? How does she die, specifically?”

Godric suggests with a tired smile, “Who are we to say what is not real?” He explains, “The maenad must be sacrificed. It happens at the height of the ceremony. She dies as a human does. I have seen myself a pierced heart to be an effective method.”

“Can we see your fangs?” The little boy called Cody asks. Eric exposes his fangs to the child. Both children awe at Eric’s long fangs, although the little girl called Lisa shies away. 

“What’s the matter, little girl? Don’t you like vampires?” Eric asks.

“Eric,” Sam and Godric scold in unison. Eric rolls his eyes and closes his mouth.

“Our almost-daddy hated vampires,” Lisa explains bravely, “but we don’t.”

“He went on a vacation with Jesus,” Cody adds.

Pamela scoffs in disgust, “You make me so happy I never had any of you.”

“No, Pam, they’re funny. They’re like humans but miniature. Teacup humans,” Eric says. Godric resists rolling his eyes in fondness of Eric.

“Skicka iväg dem. Jag hatar dem. De är så dumma,” ‘Send them away. I hate them. They are so stupid, ’ Pamela tells Godric and Eric with no sympathy whatsoever.

“What is the height of the ceremony?” Sam asks, trying to get this conversation back on topic. 

Godric answers, “Her god shows himself to her.”

“Have you seen this god?” Sam asks. Godric nods once. Even Eric struggles to hide his shock. “What was it like?”

Godric considers this and shrugs, “Quite ordinary. A large ox, no more.” 

“An ox?” Sam asks. “Horns, the whole thing?” Godric nods. “I show Maryann an ox, we can kill her?” Godric nods again. “This might sound thick, but if all she wants is to die, why hasn’t she?”

Godric does not know. “This maenad seems idiosyncratic. Maenads live in groups, and they are near extinct. She may very well be the last of her kind. The last I knew of one was…” Godric thinks back, “Nearly 1800 years ago.” 

Sam’s eyes widen. It’s the little girl who approaches Godric bravely and says, “You don’t look old.” Godric offers her a soft smile. For reasons Eric does not understand, Godric has always had a soft spot for children, and children feel safe in his presence. A lesser vampire would enjoy a long afterlife of unparallelled depravity with Godric’s gift. 

By the time their conversation nears its end, the little girl is asleep on Godric’s lap while her brother curiously wanders about the bar. Empty peanut packages, candy wrappers, and tiny water bottles litter the low table between them. Sam feels confident about destroying Maryann. Pam has long lost interest and now runs the bar. Eric could care less about Bon Temps, but if Godric’s interest in Sookie and Sam and these children somehow delays a painful conversation about Godric meeting his True Death, Eric will personally kill as many Maenads as necessary. 

“Knowing Sookie, she’ll have marched up in there and gotten herself right in the middle of it by now,” Sam emphasizes. “We’d best get going. Coby?” Sam stands to retrieve the young boy from the bar, where he currently sits to antagonize Pam. 

Eric watches Godric thoughtfully when Sam collects the children. Godric seems so… human. Upon their first meeting, Godric appeared to Eric as death, as a creature of darkness, as entirely feral. Over the very long time they’ve spent together, it has never truly occurred to Eric in this very real way that his maker was once human. Godric may have had a daughter like Lisa if his human life was less tragic. Godric tenderly brushes the young girl’s hair behind her ear to test her exhaustion. The young girl curls closer against Godric’s body. It’s an odd dichotomy to watch Death be so paternal to a frail human child. 

Even at his worst, Godric has always been gentle, kind, and soft to the most vulnerable of people. Godric is truly the best of them in ways Eric is still just coming to understand. 

Godric stands with the sleeping child supported tightly in his arms to bring to Sam’s truck. “Goodnight, tiny humans,” Eric bids the children as Sam and Godric take them outside.

“Are you coming?” Godric asks Eric. Eric nods, a bit lost in what this all means. Godric doesn’t want to die, he just… perhaps needs something he couldn’t find as a sheriff in Dallas. Eric can save his maker. 

When the children are loaded into the car, Sam turns to Godric and hugs him in a sudden way no one should move toward a vampire. Godric allows this. “Thank you. Even if this doesn’t work… thank you. You ever need anything, you call, you hear? Anything.”

Eric and Godric climb into Eric’s car, which is a very expensive corvette. Only Pamela has ever had the privilege of riding in Eric’s car up until now. 

“You really don’t know how to drive?” Eric doesn’t know how he ended up here, driving Godric to fucking Bon Temps of all places, for a rendezvous with a maenad, whatever the fuck that is. “Godric, this is the twenty-first century. Cars were invented over a century ago.” Compared to Godric, Eric is mainstreaming. That’s a troubling realization. “How did you get anywhere in Dallas?” 

“Why do you drive?” Godric asks, equally confused. “Is it not faster to run?” 

Eric considers this as they drive down dark southern backroads. “You run everywhere?”

Godric resists laughing, but does smile at the suggestion. “Isabel drives.” 

“Ahhhh…” Eric teases. “I see now.” 

Godric makes a tsk sound and shakes his head. Godric recognizes Eric’s tone, “Stop.”

“You like being chauffeured around, don’t you?” Eric chuckles, enjoying the light topic for once, “Makes you feel… important.” 

Godric playfully nudges Eric’s arm and smiles, “Okay, okay.” He pauses, clearly embarrassed. “I did drive. Once. In 1993. A police officer pulled me over and informed me that I was too young to drive.” 

They laugh together at the absurdity of it all. Eric can’t recall the last time things felt this light between them. It couldn’t have been sooner than when Godric turned Nora. Godric is reminded now of Nora and Eric teasing Godric about not yet knowing how to read English. Godric misses Nora dreadfully, especially now. Something about long journeys makes the world seem smaller, lighter, less vast and overbearing. Less complicated. 

Godric has changed, so Eric must also change. Pam’s words keep bouncing around in Eric’s mind. Eric decides to test something different and bold and frightening. For Godric. “When you became a vampire, how old were you?” It feels very much like a boundary Eric shouldn’t cross. 

Eric’s question surprises Godric, but it isn’t unwelcome. Godric considers the best way to answer Eric, but comes up short. “I don’t know.”

Godric decides there is no harm in sharing the truth with Eric, not now at least. As Godric told Eric yesterday, his only purpose for keeping his human life secret from Eric was selfish. Godric is haunted by the memories more and more. Maybe Pamela is right, maybe talking will help somehow. It is no more absurd than the Fellowship of the Sun incident. “I was captured by the Roman army during a raid and sold into slavery as a young child. I remember very little before that.” 

It feels wrong to hear these intimate details of Godric’s life before Eric. It feels wrong that it took Eric 1,000 years to ask. “What do you remember? Before… that.”

Godric considers this question carefully. “The sea,” Godric answers. It’s a long time before he reveals calmly, “Foraging berries with… with my sister, I think. Or maybe just a girl from my tribe.” Eric feels something rotten grow in his chest. For a thousand years, Godric has chased the man who killed Eric’s family across all continents with Eric, and Godric hardly even remembers his own family. Eric never even asked. Godric admits, “Memories have been returning to me lately.”

Eric does not understand this. “Lately?” Godric does not respond. Eric knows Godric’s moods well, but they have never discussed what it is like for Godric. Eric reaches over to hold Godric’s hand. Godric’s fingers curl around Eric’s hand receptively. 

Godric cannot bring himself to tell Eric the reason why his memory is still so poor. He cannot bring himself to tell Eric of his master, the way he forced Godric to forget all but his master, the endless shame Godric endured and still carries. Eric senses this and does not push.

“Where?” Eric bravely asks to change the subject to something less painful. “Before…” 

“They told me I am from the place they call Gaul,” Godric answers as he watches dark trees fly by the passenger window. “And that I am only to speak Latin.” Eric taught Pamela Old Norse, and Eric didn’t even know Godric spoke Latin or Gallic. “Many slaves were from this place, but I found no one from my tribe. We spoke Gallic in private.” 

“Will you teach me?” Eric asks before he thinks, before he realizes what he asks of Godric. “Gallic.”

Godric is overcome with love for Eric. Godric looks at Eric in surprise. He searches Eric’s face and finds only sincerity. Over two thousand years, and Godric’s progeny still surprises him. Godric only nods in reply, certain he’ll cry if he tries to speak. Godric nods in agreement. Godric brings Eric’s hand closer to kiss the back of his hand with affection and adoration. 

Eric pulls the car into Bon Temps down the street from Sookie’s house. Eric asks after several moments of intimate silence, “Are you ready?” He rests his hand on the back of Godric’s neck lovingly. 

“Yes,” Godric responds. Eric senses there’s something more on Godric’s mind, so he waits patiently. “Ta graih aym ort, Eric.” ‘ I love you, Eric.’

Eric does not recognize these words in any way, but they seem more natural on Godric’s lips than any other. Eric doesn’t need a translation, he knows Godric is telling Eric he loves him as he knows this in any language. 

“Ta… graih aym… ort. Godric.” Eric does his best to replicate Godric’s pronunciation and commit the words to memory. A tear of blood falls before Godric can stop himself. Eric wipes it away with a tender thumb. 

The maenad called Maryann is certainly a force. Sam was not exaggerating when he warned that she had overtaken the entire town. Eric knows not to harm any of the innocent townspeople, but as they stand at the edge of the forest, Godric gently reminds in whispers, “No blood spilt - apart from hers.” Eric nods and they begin the work removing the townspeople from the scene, beginning with the mother of the small children they met tonight. Eric and Godric glamour dozens of people as Sookie, Sam, and Bill distract the maenad and lead her to the forest. 

It all happens rather quickly, but Godric does enjoy assisting the people of Bon Temps. He only pauses his work when he hears Sookie’s familiar scream once again from the other side of the crowd. The maenad chases Sookie into the woods. Just before Sookie falls into the dirt, Godric catches her and brings her to safety. The maenad is too distracted by Sam’s ox form to realize her victim has fled. 

“We have to stop meeting this way,” Sookie jokes once she realizes Godric has rescued her again. “What are you doing here? Is Eric here?” 

“Your friend Sam enlisted our help,” Godric nods to signal toward Eric across the clearing, who is currently glamouring Sookie’s brother to walk to the safety of Bill’s house, sit on the ground, and be quiet. 

Sookie throws her arms around Godric’s neck in a tight embrace, “I don’t know how I can ever thank you. Again.” Just then, the air changes. The people are free. 

“The maenad is dead,” Godric confirms. 

Sookie rushes off to tend to her very confused loved ones. It is a long night of returning the townspeople back to their homes and, for an unfortunate few, to the nearest hospital. There are no casualties this night, which is a blessing. When the night comes to a close and the Stackhouse property has been inspected for lingering humans, Eric has run out of patience, “Can we go now?” Eric knows Godric finds it charming.

Godric nods in recognition, but listens before taking their leave too hastily. He catches the eye of a young man through Sookie’s kitchen window. Godric and the young man watch each other curiously for a long moment. “I will meet you at the car shortly,” Godric promises Eric. He walks slowly back up the steps to Sookie’s home. The young man meets Godric at the door. Godric notices blood on the young man’s hands and the terror in his eye. Godric sees much of himself in this young man. “Hello,” Godric greets gently, hoping not to frighten the human. 

“Hey,” the man replies. He opens the screen door, but does not exit the house. He looks behind his shoulder to ensure nobody is listening in on their conversation. “Um, I… You know what happened, don’t you?” Godric nods. “And you’re a vampire? You could make me remember?”

“Tell me what ails you,” Godric invites. Eric watches from the car as Godric sits on the front porch with a human and knows they won’t be leaving anytime soon. In Godric’s defense, at well over 2,000 years old, he doesn’t perceive time the same way the rest of the world does, especially considering he spent around 1,000 of those years living alone in the wild. Eric sighs, rolls the windows halfway down, lies his seat all the way back, and plays Swedish metal from a cassette he purchased in the 80’s. Eric and Godric won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

Godric seems keenly concerned with the inherent fragility of humans, while Eric could care less about anyone besides Pam, Godric, and, fleetingly, Nora. Eric would much rather be on a secluded beach somewhere continuing what he started yesterday - that is, literally fucking the will to live back into Godric - but this is how Godric chooses to spend their time, so Eric will keep the complaints to a minimum. After all, Eric finally has what he’s been craving for the last century: Godric back at his side. Eric watches Godric from the short distance and appreciates all that he has. 

“Hey,” of course it’s Sookie Stackhouse that interrupts Eric’s peace. “You got a second? I wanted to thank you.” Eric rubs his eyes in annoyance, but unlocks the car door. Sookie takes Godric’s seat beside Eric. “You and Godric didn’t have to help. I didn’t expect it, but I sure thank you for it. Everyone does. Or, they would.” 

“No problem,” Eric answers simply, his eyes still on Godric. 

It isn’t like Eric at all not to engage, at least to tease, if nothing else. “Eric? Are you alright?” Eric nods distantly. They sit in silence for a long moment watching Godric before Sookie says, “I’m glad he’s got you looking out for him. Godric - he needs you.”

Godric’s human begins to cry and Godric rubs his back. Eric feels anger and jealousy, mostly. “So, what you’re saying is that you owe me? Again?” Sookie rolls her eyes. Eric takes a more serious tone, “Godric has an affinity for you, as most seem to. It’s no secret that he’s… unwell. Although I need that to be as hush-hush as possible. Can I count on you? On account of you owing me?”

Sookie’s confused. “I don’t go around airing other people’s dirty laundry-”

“No,” Eric corrects. “What I am asking is, if I were to require your assistance in making Godric well again, for whatever reason-” Eric finally shares Sookie’s eye contact, “-could I count on you?”

Sookie doesn’t know that she’ll get used to this Viking needing her, but for some reason, she finds herself minding less and less. “For Godric? Anything,” Sookie agrees easily. “He’s the reason you’re here tonight, isn’t he? He wanted to help? I can see now why you were ready to risk everything for him. He has a very kind heart.” 

Eric doesn’t know why Sookie’s words elicit such anger from him. Eric can’t admit to himself that the human sitting beside him seems to understand Godric more deeply than Eric does. Sookie seems to understand this too, despite being unable to read Eric’s or Godric’s minds. “Everyone needs to feel understood. Seen,” Sookie adds. Eric hates the way Sookie makes him feel transparent. Eric watches Godric and the human laugh together and starts to feel hungry. 

Eric gives Godric and his new human of interest as much time as he can, but inevitably, the sun will soon rise. Considering Godric’s age and recent restricted diet, Eric wouldn’t dare risking exposing Godric to the sun for even a moment. Eric would simply honk if it were anyone else, but he would never show such disrespect to Godric. “It’s time to go,” Eric exits the car and trusts that Sookie will follow. She does.

“You doing alright, Eggs?” Sookie asks once they approach the porch.

Eggs gives Sookie and Eric an honest smile and nods, “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. Tara and I really appreciate you letting us stay the night here. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as-”

“No, no, I don’t want to hear none of that tonight,” Sookie offers grace. “Just lock the door on your way in. I better go check on Tara. Goodnight. And, Godric? Thank you.” Godric gives Sookie a humble nod and small smile. 

“Our turn,” Eric signals to Godric without much warmth. Godric nods in agreement. 

Eggs embraces Godric in a sudden, tight embrace that Godric seems to disappear inside of. “Thank you,” Eggs tells Godric. Eric imagines this human dismembered. 

Godric humbly allows Eggs to end the hug in his own time. “Thank you, my friend,” Godric replies.

Godric looks into Eric’s eyes, and Eric suddenly doesn’t feel quite so jealous anymore. Godric’s soft gaze has always had a way of making Eric feel important. Eric wraps his arm around Godric’s shoulders possessively and leads him to the car, calling over his shoulder in a mocking tone, “Goodnight, Eggs.” 

Godric can feel irritation radiating off Eric, but he does not regret this night. They climb into the car together and listen to Eric’s old music together as they drive back to Fangtasia. 

It isn’t Eric’s intention to sound quite so judgmental when he asks, “This is what you’ve been doing the last century without me?” Godric waits patiently for Eric to explain himself. “Helping humans with their problems? Why?” 

After all this time, Godric still doesn’t know how to answer this question without hurting Eric. So he admits it, “I don’t know.” It isn’t something Eric has heard from Godric often throughout the millennia and it isn’t a very digestible answer. 

Eric tries to be patient, “I want to understand. Please, Godric. My loyalty is to you, nothing can ever change that. I want to understand.”

Godric rests his hand on Eric’s, “There are centuries of love and faith between us.” Godric gives Eric that tired smile as he confirms, “Everything changes with time, but never this.” Eric breathes a sigh of relief he may very well have been holding for a hundred years. “Before you, I knew only hate and hunger. You changed me. I am now changed again.” 

“What changed?” This frightens Eric, but he does what he can not to show it. “Say it,” Eric offers gently. “I will follow wherever you go. I have tried to be without you for a century, and I have hated every fucking moment of it. I need you, and I refuse to waste any more time going on this way. It is not only because you are my maker, it is because you are my best friend, and my family, and hjartað mitt.”

Eric’s fingers grasp Godric’s hand firmly, “Help me understand. I’m not asking.” Godric’s silence speaks volumes. “I have apologized thousands of times for-”

“You were right,” Godric cedes. It’s not what Eric wants to hear. 

“Stop this. I was cruel to you. I was wrong,” Eric argues, still not listening after all this time. Godric knows this is Eric’s way: to fight. Godric does not blame him for this, for anything. 

Godric gives Eric’s hand a gentle squeeze, “You were right.” Eric bites his tongue against his better judgment, curious what Godric has to say. “You and Nora. Two thousand years and I had only become more brutal, more predatory, more selfish.” 

Per usual, the answer is hidden in Godric’s eternal refusal to speak directly. “Fucking Nora. What did she say to you?” Eric thinks he might finally be getting to the bottom of this. Godric only shakes his head and looks out the window. Eric loves Nora, but knows Nora’s venom tongue firsthand, and knows even better that Godric has no stomach for it whatsoever. “I knew it. Nora is an ungrateful, insolent child-”

“Do not speak of her that way,” Godric commands. Godric’s tone is soft as ever, but Eric knows not to push further. Nora could commit genocide and Godric would only ever sing her praises. She can do no wrong in his eyes. Godric loves Nora blindly and unconditionally.

This is a jealousy Eric is not permitted. Godric and Eric’s lives changed the night Eric brought Nora home to Godric. War left their lives for many years, replaced with politics and high society. Eric may have civilized Godric, but Nora sophisticated him. Godric turned Eric for primarily selfish reasons, before Godric knew anything else. Godric turned Nora at Eric’s request. Godric and Eric bonded viscerally in the Northern wilds as animals do. Godric and Nora bonded over Shakespeare. 

Eric and Godric are fathers, brothers, sons, lovers, everything to one another. Nora is the proper daughter Godric never asked for, but loves, nurtures, and protects fiercely and selflessly. Godric’s love for Nora exists only because of his love for Eric. 

To come between Godric and Nora is suicide. Besides, Eric cannot deny that Nora has healed Godric in ways Eric could not. Eric owes Nora more than he’ll ever thank her for.

Eric knows he must choose his words carefully. “I am often wrong. As is Nora. What did she say to you?” Godric is silent. Eric recognizes the dead end and lets this go. For now. “What is the goal? To make Nora proud? To win her back?”

Godric cannot deny that he misses Nora like he would miss his own arm, but he knows Nora will not return until she does so of her own accord. “There is no goal,” Godric admits regretfully. “It is only how I feel.”

Eric feels odd asking, “How do you feel?”

Godric is not afraid of the truth any longer. Godric presses a lingering kiss to Eric’s hand, “It does not take away the emptiness, but it helps.” Eric is satisfied with this. Godric adds as gently as he can, “I should return to Dallas tomorrow.” 

Eric sighs dramatically and frustratingly curses Godric in Old Norse. “There’s nothing to return to in Dallas. Just forget about Dallas. Please. Forever. I sent for your things, Isabel will be here next week.” Godric is silent. Eric knows he’s overstepped. It isn’t Eric’s place to control Godric’s life in this way, but Godric has left Eric little choice. Godric is Eric’s to love, nurture, and protect fiercely now. Eric can not fail. 

“She wanted to say goodbye,” he adds somewhat more warmly, a consolation for all Godric built and now must leave in Dallas, “and see for herself that I’m not holding you against your will. As if she or anyone could stop me.” 

It’s now Godric’s turn to roll his eyes playfully, “I have not agreed to stay.” 

“Where you go, I follow,” Eric reiterates. ”Location means nothing to me. You are my home.” It’s no great revelation to Eric, this has been true for a thousand years and will be true long after Eric and Godric are both gone from this world. 

“Please don’t drag me to Dallas again.” Godric cannot hide his smile, which is noticeably less tired and sad than it ordinarily appears. “I will not be without you. I will say it as many times as I must until you hear me.” 

“I hear you, my Eric,” Godric promises instead of arguing. “I love you. Always.” Eric believes Godric will not leave him this time. 

Eric realizes tonight that Godric may be a better Maker when he feeds, but he is a kinder lover when he feels… purpose, if that is what Godric can call tending to human affairs. This is what Godric needs. Eric will give it to him. 

“I love you,” Eric returns to Godric softly. “Only you.” It does not need to be said, but Eric needs Godric to hear it. 

“Ynrycan oo,” ‘ Only you,’ Godric teaches Eric his native tongue. 

“Ynrycan oo,” Eric copies softly. Eric spends the rest of the short road trip committing to memory every Gallic phrase Godric teaches. When they return to Fangtasia shortly before sunrise, they only manage to keep their hands to themselves for so long. Pamela has already gone to ground and the bar is empty. Returning to Eric’s room in this bar in Louisiana feels like coming home.  

Eric closes the door behind them for privacy. Eric removes his shirt to sleep nude as he does each night. Eric sees a familiar spark of wanting in Godric’s eye as Eric’s chest is exposed. Godric turns away to remove the clothes from his own body to replace with Eric’s boxer briefs. Even after all this time, Godric will never show his desire to Eric first.

Eric had never before questioned this. It is Godric’s way. Eric considers now all he does not know of Godric’s life before Eric and thinks differently of this habit. Eric moves to stand behind Godric. Godric finishes changing. Eric tenderly rakes his knuckles along the side of Godric’s neck. 

Godric tilts his head to expose more of his neck to Eric’s touch. Godric closes his eyes. Godric says nothing, expects nothing, asks for nothing. Godric takes what Eric gives him as he always does. Godric recognizes Eric’s silence as thoughtfulness and whispers, “Säg vad du tycker, ást-kær.” ‘Speak your mind, love-dear.’ 

Anything Eric can think to say to Godric will only chase Godric’s desire away. Eric wants to know all the things Godric will not tell him. Eric wants to know of Godric’s Maker, of Godric’s human life, of the last century without Eric. Eric wants all of Godric, even the painful parts that Godric methodically hides from Eric.

Godric turns to face Eric. Eric’s fingers trace the curve of Godric’s face and explore along the side of his head. Eric shakes his head slowly, “Jag tänker bara på min kärlek till dig.” ‘I think only of my love for you.’ Godric knows Eric lies, but does not speak of it. The millennia-old unspoken secrets between them remain. Ändlös.” ‘ Endless.’

Godric’s attention and love is all Eric’s. This is all Eric needs. 

Eric takes Godric’s hand and brings it to his own chest. Godric’s features soften when his fingers trace across Eric’s bare skin. Godric’s fingers follow the old chain of Eric’s necklace down to the eagle talon that rests against his skin. “Var hittade du detta?” ‘Where did you find this?’ Eric asks for the first time. Eric has never seen Godric wear any other piece of jewelry or found any interest in any other meaningful item.

Godric does not look back into Eric’s eyes as he turns the talon slowly in his fingers. “Jag återvände till Gallien när jag flydde Rom. Det här är allt jag hittade.” ‘I returned to Gaul after I escaped Rome. This is all I found.’ Eric wears all that remains of Godric’s home, his family, his life before Eric around his neck. This is what Eric means to Godric. 

The necklace that has adorned Eric’s neck for a millennia suddenly feels very heavy around Eric’s neck. Because of Godric’s foresight and guidance, Eric owns the land he was born on and all of his family possessions that survived time. Eric wants for nothing and regrets nothing of his human life because of Godric, and Godric gave Eric all he had of his own human life the first night they met. 

“Jag är ledsen. Jag borde inte ha sagt något.” ‘ I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’ Godric touches Eric’s jaw tenderly, apologetically.

Eric catches Godric’s hand. He just can’t help himself, “Berätta varför du lämnade mig.” ‘ Tell me why you left me.’ Godric can’t keep the sadness from his eyes. “Om du älskar mig som jag vill att du ska, som jag älskar dig, varför lämnade du mig?” ‘ If you love me like I want you to, like I love you, why did you leave me?’  

It’s too soon. Eric knows it’s too soon. Godric is not yet well, not enough to convince Eric, and Eric should be spending this time convincing Godric to stay. Eric loves Godric selfishly and he cannot change the way he feels. “Berätta för mig, och jag kommer aldrig mer att fråga.” ‘ Tell me, and I’ll never ask again.’ Eric pleads, “Jag kommer aldrig mer att nämna det. Jag kommer att glömma. Det kommer att vara som att vi aldrig skildes åt.” ‘ I will never mention it again. I will forget. It will be like we never parted.’

They share silent eye contact while Godric finds the words. “Jag vill bättre för dig. Än... jag.” ‘ I want better for you. Than… me.’ Eric only sighs. “Jag vet att det här inte är vad du vill höra. Det är det enda svaret jag har.” ‘ I know this is not what you want to hear. This is the only answer I have.’

Godric adds, “Du skyller på Nora och dig själv för det jag har gjort. Jag sårade dig: min Eric, min viking, min hjälte, mitt hjärta, min avkomma, min sanna och enda kärlek. Du söker inte efter förnuft, utan efter skuld, och allt är mitt.” ‘ You blame Nora and yourself for what I have done. I hurt you: my Eric, my Viking, my hero, my heart, my progeny, my true and only love. You look not for reason, but for blame, and it is all mine.’ Eric hates to be known in this way, and Godric knows it. “Ge mig din ilska. Jag förtjänar det.” ‘ Give me your anger. I deserve it.’

Eric considers this quietly without anger. He considers the course of Godric’s wavering mental health in the last thousand years. He considers what little he now knows of Godric’s traumatic life before Eric. He considers Nora and himself and the last century without Godric. He thinks on the state he found Godric in only a few days ago: silvered and starved in a dirty basement. “Inga,” ‘ No,’ Eric denies Godric’s request.

With more maturity than even Eric imagined himself to be capable of, Eric responds, “Stanna vid min sida för resten av evigheten, så kommer jag att förlåta.” ‘ Stay by my side for the rest of eternity and I will forgive.’ Eric cups Godric’s face in both hands and leans over to be at Godric’s height, “När jag litar på att du inte kommer att gå igen, kommer mitt hjärta att bli helat, och jag kommer att förlåta.” ‘ When I trust that you will not leave again, my heart will be healed, and I will forgive.’

It is not the bleeds that bring blood tears to Godric’s eyes. Godric closes his eyes, hiding his shame. Eric holds Godric’s face firmly and requests, “Titta på mig.” ‘Look at me.’ Godric obeys, and tears stream down his cheeks. “Du är pacifist, eller hur? Tror du på fred? Förlåtelse? Vänlighet?” ‘ You are a pacifist now, yes? You believe in peace? Forgiveness? Kindness?’ Godric does not respond. “Jag förlåter dig.” ‘ I forgive you.’

Eric knows now this is what Godric needs. He pulls Godric close. Godric’s tears are welcome on Eric’s skin. Eric tells Godric of his unconditional love for him again and again, as many times as he needs.

Chapter Text

6

-

Rome, ~45 B.C.

“Mea, res pulchra es,” ‘My, you are a pretty thing,’ says the vampire guest with nefarious intent clear in his tone. “Videre possum quare dominus tuus tam prope te servat.” ‘I can see why your master keeps you so close.’ Godric knows only danger in this life, but this is certain death. Godric cannot imagine how his master will react to whatever this vampire plans for Godric. Godric is helpless to do more than control his breath. He continues his work cleaning floorboards and prays to any god listening that the guest loses interest.

He does not. “Tibi loquor, serve puer,” ‘I am speaking to you, slave boy,’ the man commands. 

Godric has no choice. He sets down the cleaning brush and turns to kneel before the guest. Breathe in and out, slowly. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Again. Slower. Godric keeps his head down intentionally, showing faux reverence to the stranger. Godric’s heart pounds uncontrollably. Godric could not speak if he tried. “Multum etiam quietum est. Quod non faciam.” ‘Much too quiet. That will not do.’

The man approaches and tilts Godric’s chin upwards. Godric still keeps his eyes down respectfully, but more importantly, protectively. Vampires cannot control humans without eyes. “Let me see those pretty eyes.” Fingers pinch each side of Godric’s jaw, painfully forcing his mouth slightly ajar. “Look at me, child.” 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Slower. The panic will call to Godric’s master, and Godric will surely suffer more. Godric’s eyes meet the stranger’s. Instantly, Godric is overcome by that false calm that always comes when he meets his master’s eyes. Godric becomes numb to the panic. “Hoc magis placet. Bene volo apud te. Quid hic habemus? Leves oculos, lentigines genas, et in his labris intue - nos certe ponemus satis os ad bene utendum. Specimen certe es, ut ait Remus.” ‘This is more like it. I want a good look at you. What do we have here? Light eyes, freckled cheeks, and look at those lips - we will certainly put that pretty mouth to good use. You surely are a specimen, just as Remus said.’ Remus sent this vampire. Of course he did. “Dic mihi, puer, ubi te inveniunt?” ‘Tell me boy, where did they find you?’

“Gaul, domine,” ‘Gaul, sir,’ Godric’s mouth betrays, although his voice is very soft. 

“Multo melius,” ‘Much better,’ the vampire smirks and does not release Godric’s jaw. “Quod nomen tibi est, fili?” ‘What is your name, child?’

“Godric, domine,” ‘Godric, sir,’ he replies. 

“Godric. Licuit e Gallia es;” ‘Godric. You are from Gaul, alright,’ the vampire takes too much pleasure in this. “Vocor Korun. Godric, dic ubi est dominus tuu.” ‘I am called Korun. Godric, tell me where your master is.’

“Egypt,” Godric has no choice but to answer honestly, but he speaks as succinctly as possible to avoid revealing additional secrets. Godric’s loyalty is meaningless; Godric has already confirmed Korun’s suspicions. 

“Itane est? Mecum non erat verax? Magnum mirum.” ‘Is that so? He was not truthful with me? Big surprise.’ The vampire is pleased by this. He raises a brow and confirms, “Non exspectatione longior erit?” ‘He will be away longer than expected, will he not?’

Godric knows there is no point in fighting. “Ita.” ‘Yes.’ Godric feels his eyes begin to water. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. The feeling passes for now. 

The vampire laughs, “Pulchra. Ita, ut scribis, habeo vos omnes ad meipsum donec redeat.” ‘Beautiful. So, you might say, I have you all to myself until he returns.’

“Ego Domini mei,” ‘I belong to my master,’ Godric informs, as his master has previously instructed. 

“Estne hic?” ‘Is he here?’ Korun asks rhetorically. “Partem ioci una, parve Godrici, habebimus.” ‘We will have our share of fun together, little Godric.’ Godric bites his tongue and manages to stay silent. There is no point in informing this vampire of the rage Godric’s master will inflict on them both when he learns of this treachery. Korun knows. 

Godric belongs to his master in both human and vampire law, this vampire knows he has no right to him, but that is exactly why this vampire has taken an interest in Godric. As much as Godric fears this stranger’s intentions, Godric can only hope this vampire kills him before his master returns and turns his wrath to Godric. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 

“Remus heri tui progenies est, itane?” ‘Remus is your master’s progeny, yes?’ Godric nods in confirmation. “Studium domini tui habes, illi plane magni momenti es. Remus dixit mihi quod tu fecisti: herus tuus me decepit. Nonne dixisti mihi quia te feci? Nunc cur Remus mihi dicat? Mens eius longe fortior est quam tua. Non habeo potestatem.” ‘You have your master’s interest, you are clearly very important to him. Remus told me the same as you did: that your master deceived me. You told me because I made you, isn’t that right? Now, why would Remus tell me? His mind is far stronger than yours. I have no control over him.’

Godric’s master holds some degree of forgiveness for Godric. Remus has none. Godric is especially motivated to protect Remus from whatever Korun wants from him. Godric struggles to control his response. “Non ego-” ‘I don’t-’

“Optimum coniectura,” ‘Your best guess,’ Korun corrects.

Godric cannot hide his thoughts. “Devote fidelis, domino meo. He-” ‘He is devoutly loyal to my master. He-’ Godric struggles and fails to stop himself from saying, “Ipse te vult occidere.” ‘He wants you to kill me.’

“Ah,” Korun chuckles, entertained. His hand moves to pinch Godric’s cheek between two fingers. “Video cur invideat. Nec possum dicere me te occidere, puer. Vide te: valde bonus es. Et inveni dominum tuum magnificum esse. Ei ius illum fierent.” ‘I can see why he would be jealous. And I cannot say I would not enjoy killing you, boy. Look at you: you are so very good. And I have found that master of yours to be pompous. It would serve him right.’ Korun instructs suddenly, “Da mihi, sicut vis eam.” ‘Kiss me like you mean it.’

Godric’s body obeys. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Godric focuses on counting and focuses on the numbness. Anything to ignore the revolting stranger’s mouth on his, the taste of stale copper on his tongue. When a fang pierces his lip harshly, Godric still does not stop kissing. “Oh,” Korun ends the kiss to smirk, “oh, nunc videre possum quid de omni negotio.” ‘oh, I can see now what all the fuss is about.’ Godric’s lip continues to bleed onto his chin. Godric only watches Korun and awaits his next command.

“Stoicus es, vel Romano. Nonne lamia timere praecepit herus tuus?” ‘You are stoic, even for a Roman. Has your master commanded you not to fear vampires?’ The vampire asks cruelly. 

“Nec,” ‘No,’ Godric answers simply, his expression remaining still.

“Num? Timor lamia?” ‘Do you? Fear vampires?’ The vampire still smiles. 

“Ita,” ‘Yes,’ Godric answers honestly. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

“Cur non indicas? Clama? Quate? Clamo? Pugna? Omnes faciunt.” ‘Why do you not show it? Cry? Shake? Scream? Fight? They all do.’

Godric hates this vampire with his whole body and soul. “Is nequidquam servet” ‘It serves no purpose,’ Godric answers in rehearsal. It is a small fraction of the truth, but it seems to satisfy this vampire. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 

“Oh, nunc id est ubi erras. Intentio mea sic servit. An magister tuus non te docuit aliquid? Totum hoc propositum est venationis lamiae, metus,” ‘Oh, now, that is where you are wrong. It serves my purpose. Has your master not taught you anything? That is the entire objective of a vampire’s hunt, the fear,’ the vampire corrects. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. “Metum da mihi, sicut ceteri omnes.” ‘Give me your fear as all the others do.” It is not a new command, but it is by far Godric’s least favorite. 

Godric cannot refuse. Throughout the torture, Godric cries and shakes and screams and fights for escape in vain - all for the pleasure of this stranger, at the humiliation of his master. 

For two long days and nights, Godric endures horrific, repeated, vengeance-motivated violence not even his master has imagined for Godric with a decade of practice. Korun brings Godric to the brink of death again and again, providing barely enough vampire blood to keep Godric’s heart faintly beating. This vampire defers to no one, the vampire authority least of all. Korun takes what he pleases, and what he pleases is pain. No god saves Godric from this unspeakable torture. 

Godric’s master returns in a fury Godric has never seen before. Despite himself, Godric is not strong enough even to lift his bloody body off the cold ground Korun left him on. Cara, another house slave, a kind, silent, old woman is attempting to wash the blood and filth from Godric’s nude body when they hear the master of the house return. “Immee-jee” ‘Go,’ Godric begs weakly in the slave language. His wrist burns with the motion, but still, he grabs her delicate, wrinkled hand weakly and repeats in a whisper, “Gow, ny bee mayd ny-neesht marroo.” ‘Go, or we will both die.’ She mournfully disappears.

Godric loses consciousness again, and wakes to the all-too familiar taste of his master’s blood in his mouth. Godric‘s throat instinctively tightens and he chokes, fighting the unwelcome intrusion. Godric has no wish to heal from this, he wishes only death. He is soon commanded, “Bibe.” ‘Drink.’ Godric’s mouth works around his master’s bleeding wrist before Godric is conscious enough to comprehend the order. 

It is Korun’s interest in Godric that ultimately incites his master to soon make Godric a vampire, once he has finally drained every last drop of Godric’s blood that still smells of Korun. “Tu mihi soli obedies in aeternum. Meus eris totus. Nulla alia lamia te imperabit, nisi I. Vita humana non ligaberis. Pluris eris; meus eris. Vita tua erit mea.” ‘You will obey only me, for eternity. You will be mine entirely. No other vampire will control you, only I. You will not be bound by your human life. You will be more; you will be mine. Your afterlife will be mine.’

In Godric’s final human act, the only time he has ever rebelled, Godric kneels before his master in his deathbed - which is a hole deep in the ground that Godric dug per his master’s command, “Tu meam vitam tulisti, omnia tulisti, ego tibi omnia dedi. nihil rogavi. Deo convenire volo. Da mihi mortem humanam. Quaeso.” ‘You have taken my human life, you have taken everything, and I have given all to you. I have asked for nothing. I wish to belong to God. Please give me a human death. Please.’ Tears fall shamefully and desperately. “Quaeso, Domine. Obsecro te, da mihi mortem obsecro. Noli quaeso hoc mihi negare. Da mihi Deum, quaeso, me abire.” ‘Please, Master. I beg you, please give me death. Please do not deny me this. Please give me to God, please let me go.’

Godric’s request is met with a swift slap across his face that renders him immediately unconscious. When he wakes, he is dead. Godric feels only hunger and hatred. This does not end with the true death of his master. This does not end for a thousand years. 

-

Shreveport, 2009

Godric wakes in a quiet panic and immediate claustrophobia. Panicked hands search desperately for the latch to open the coffin. The coffin remains shut and, without thought, Godric pushes hard enough to send the coffin lid flying off its hinges onto the floor, silver chains shattering across the floor with it. Godric disappears from the bedroom before Eric opens his eyes. 

As old and strong and quick as he is, Eric cannot react quickly enough to Godric’s escape. Eric is ashamed to realize he’d forgotten how fast Godric can be when he feels the need. “Fuck,” Eric scrambles to get his bearings. Godric is gone. “Fuck. Pam!” Eric finds Godric on the roof in a fraction of a second. The sun is nearly set, but persists just enough to irritate Eric and Godric’s skin. Godric sits at the edge of the roof, his legs dangling off the edge. 

“Goddamn you, Godric,” Eric complains tiredly and sits next to his maker, his skin burning slightly. “What is it? What is wrong now?” It’s then that Eric sees the blood tears streaming down Godric’s cheeks as they did last night. Godric’s eyes are far away. Pam finally opens the door to the roof, but Eric nods subtle confirmation that the issue is resolved, and gestures that she may leave. 

Eric carefully and tenderly sets the palm of his hand on Godric’s back. He rubs soft, soothing circles into Godric’s tattooed skin. Eric brings Godric back with a gentleness reserved only for Godric. Eric lets Godric cry and watch what very little is left of the late sunset in Eric’s arms. 

“Allt är bra,” ‘All is well, ’ Eric whispers in Old Norse. He repeats what Godric taught him yesterday in Gallic, “Ta graih aym ort, Godric.” ‘I love you, Godric.’ This brings Godric back to Eric. Godric finally looks at Eric. Eric knew Godric’s face covered in blood long before he ever knew Godric’s face beneath it, but this is different. Godric has never looked younger, sadder, more vulnerable to Eric. Eric feels disturbingly human. 

Eric gently pulls Godric’s face to his bare chest. Godric buries his face against Eric’s hard body, searching for comfort in his love. Godric’s small hands grasp onto Eric like he is all that keeps Godric from falling into oblivion. Godric is silent, but Eric feels Godric shake against him with sobs. Eric whispers a mantra in Old Norse, “Du är säker. Jag ska skydda dig. Jag kommer alltid att skydda dig.” ‘You are safe. I will protect you. I will always protect you. ’

This scares Eric and Godric both, but they both also recognize its necessity. It feels right, something lost between them all these years finally found. Eric runs his fingers through Godric’s short hair and whispers reassuring promises. 

Eventually, Godric’s tears dry red streaks on his face and Eric’s chest. Godric turns his head to watch the low, dark glow of the sky, holding onto the memory of the sunset. “I miss it, too,” Eric admits first. “The day.” 

Godric nods in agreement. “I apologize,” Godric whispers, his voice hoarse. “I frightened you. I was not myself. I…” Godric struggles to find the words to explain himself. Eric is patient. “I do not know myself lately,” Godric confides. Godric wonders if he ever knew himself.

It is not an easy thing to hear from Godric. “What happened?” 

Godric leans forward with his arms around his knees and closes his eyes. He cannot keep this secret any longer. “Memories,” he shakes his head at the absurdity of it. “Things I have not thought of in millennia. When I go to ground, when I close my eyes, when I… blink. I have no control. I lose myself. I cannot understand why this is happening.” 

Eric pushes past his better judgment to request, “Tell me.” Godric is silent. “Godric. Please look at me.” Godric cannot deny Eric this. He looks into Eric’s eyes and feels at ease. Eric holds Godric’s hand, “I will love you. I will respect you. I will honor you. You cannot change this.” 

Godric does not know how to let Eric help him, as badly as he knows he needs help. “My death,” Godric shares as simply as possible. No vampire describes their becoming a vampire as death. Eric has only ever seen it as a birth, a beginning. Eric knows all he needs to know about Godric’s human life from this short description. “It was not my choice.” 

Eric’s thumb rubs Godric’s soft knuckles. He does not know how to console Godric. Eric is selfish and Godric is the single most important person in Eric’s existence. No amount of Godric’s suffering could make Eric regret their life together. Godric is Eric’s; however this came to pass has always seemed irrelevant. Suddenly, it means something. 

Eric gives Godric what he can. “Vilken död du än gav din skapare var en nåd. Om han fortfarande levde skulle han tigga mig om hans sanna död.” ‘Whatever death you gave your maker was a mercy. If he was still alive, he would beg me for his true death.’ Eric’s fingers card through Godric’s short hair. “Du kommer aldrig mer att lida som du gjorde i ditt mänskliga liv.” ‘You will never again suffer as you did in your human life.’ 

Eric knows his promises are far too late. Eric cannot change the past and cannot take away Godric’s painful memories, no matter how desperately he wants to. “Berätta för mig om din smärta, så att jag får bära bördan med dig.” ‘Tell me of your pain, so that I may bear the burden with you.’ 

Godric knows what this means to Eric: Godric is weak. This is not a Maker’s place. Godric is the one who should be strong for Eric, but Eric is right: Godric is weak. More tears would fall if Godric had excess blood to spill. 

Eric’s knuckles gently trace Godric’s jaw. Godric cannot bring himself to look into Eric’s eyes when he admits shamefully, “Jag ville inte vara en vampyr. Jag bad om en mänsklig död.” ‘I did not want to be a vampire. I begged for a human death.’ Godric feels nauseous under Eric’s gaze. Godric does not have to speak this final truth for Eric to hear it: Godric still craves that unobtainable human death.

While Eric is lost in his thoughts, Godric is ever vigilant. “Our friend Sookie is coming,” Godric presses a quick kiss to Eric’s forehead and disappears to clean himself up and put on more appropriate clothes than Eric’s sweatpants, light on his feet as he always has been. Even as a feral child of Death hunting in the endless tundra forest, Godric seemed to dance along the trees. Godric is beautiful. 

Sookie’s unmistakably bright yellow car pulling into Eric’s parking lot takes Eric’s attention from Godric.  Eric shakes his head in disbelief. What could Sookie possibly want now? 

By the time Eric meets Sookie and Godric downstairs in the bar, along with Pamela and Jessica, Sookie is crying to Godric about Bill Compton.  Of course. “Bill’s been kidnapped,” Sookie catches Eric up to speed quickly. Eric should know by the knowing look on Godric’s face that this is more complex than Sookie realizes. “Do you recognize this symbol?” Godric shows Eric a small card with the Operation Werewolf symbol written on it that Sookie brought to pass around. 

“It stands for Operation Werewolf,” Sookie goes on anxiously, buying Eric time to think of a lie, “some kind of secret Nazi commando force from World War II. It was tattooed - well, no, it was more of a burn or a scar or something - on a dead man. On his neck. We found Bill’s car turned over on the side of the road, but no Bill, just that man.” 

“You found this branded on a dead man’s neck?” Eric confirms. He doesn’t need Godric’s subtle signal to know to answer, “Never seen it before.”

“Bill summoned Jessica there,” Sookie goes on, not allowing Eric to dismiss her so easily. “I think he was trying to show us who was trying to kidnap him.”

“Yeah, Nazi werewolves,” Jessica adds with far too much excitement. Eric can feel Godric flinch at her youthful ignorance. 

“That dead guy was strong and fast enough to take Bill. He had to be something supernatural. I was hoping you could tell us more,” Sookie pleads. 

“Sorry,” Eric flippantly tosses the card onto the table between them. 

“Why do I get the feeling you’re blowing me off?” Sookie looks to Godric desperately, “Please, if you two know anything, I’m begging you. I love him.” 

Godric and Eric share a silent argument through only eye contact. “Vänligen ta den unge någon annanstans,” ‘Please take the young one elsewhere,’ Godric gently requests of Pam in Old Norse so as not to be rude to their guests.

Pam’s excuse is better than anything Godric could have imagined, “Let’s go to the ladies’ room and stare at ourselves in the mirror.” Jessica complies with ease. 

Godric defers to Eric. Sookie is impatient, as Eric surely was when Godric was missing. “Here’s what I know about werewolves: there’s a reason their existence has remained merely a myth to humans for thousands of years. They’re territorial, vicious, and pathologically secretive.”

Without missing a beat, Sookie adds, “Boy, does that sound familiar.” Godric cannot resist his knowing smile, although he does turn his face down for a semblance of subtlety. 

Eric is not amused, “And here’s what I know about you: you’re so blinded by your obsession with Bill Compton you’re likely to run through the streets screaming ‘werewolf bait,’ alerting whoever it is that has Bill that we’re onto them or getting yourself killed.” 

“You think I’m that stupid?” Sookie retorts. 

“No, I think you’re human,” Eric answers honestly. “Don’t underestimate yourself. Your life is too valuable to throw away.” Sookie’s eyes fill with tears once more. 

Godric interrupts with a hand on Sookie’s arm, “Come, sit. Please.” The three sit together in the low chairs at the center of the bar. 

“All I’m asking is to point me in the right direction. I can take it from there,” Sookie explains. “Just tell me where to look.” 

“You have no connections in the Were community,” Eric continues to explain to Sookie. “They’re not going to answer your questions because they don’t even want you to know they exist.” 

“Bill’s out there in danger. I can’t just go on with life like that’s not happening. You know that, maybe better than anyone,” Sookie ploys transparently. “When Godric went missing-”

“Bill Compton is not Godric,” Eric snaps. 

“Eric,” Godric interrupts again. “Var inte ovänlig mot henne.” ‘Do not be unkind to her.’ Eric keeps his eyes on Sookie, unwilling to budge. 

“But he’s everything to me,” Sookie begins to cry again. Godric gives Eric a disappointed expression.

Eric does not know how much of this he can take. Eric begs both Sookie and Godric, “Please don’t do that.”

“I risked my life to help you save Godric,” Sookie explains as though Eric could not possibly understand this without an explanation. Godric thinks that may be possible. Sookie sobs, “And I don’t expect you to do the same, but at the very least, I hope you’ll help me if you can.” 

“It is your duty as sheriff of the area in which Bill Compton resides to find him,” Godric reminds Eric in English for Sookie’s benefit. Eric silently curses Sookie. Godric will surely discover Eric‘s political indiscretions soon. Eric was careful, but nothing gets past Godric. 

“And our duty to our ally. She is right. We must find Bill Compton and free him. If he was kidnapped, it was for a purpose. I believe he is safe for now.” Godric adds, “Sookie and the young vampire will need protection while we plan.”

“Me and Jess? You think they’ll come for us again?” Sookie wipes tears away with a napkin. 

Godric gives Sookie a tired smile, “Call it a hunch. You are welcome to stay here, or we can join you in Bon Temps.”

“I hate both of those options,” Eric voices primarily to Godric. “But I will want to capture and interrogate anyone they send after you. We have the… necessary facilities here at Fangtasia.” Godric is going to be pissed about the torture chamber downstairs. 

“I don’t know,” Sookie considers her options. “You’re sure they’ll come looking for me here? What do they want with me? Would they be dumb enough to come to a vampire bar?”

“Like I said, werewolf bait,” Eric reminds Sookie. “You’re very easy to track. With you and Jessica here, I would bet a small fortune we’ll see a werewolf tonight. Godric and I will pull the information we need from them to create a plan.” 

“A plan to rescue Bill?” Sookie confirms, needing to hear it. 

“Yes,” Eric answers begrudgingly. “A plan to rescue Bill. But you must follow my instructions exactly. These are not ordinary werewolves we’re dealing with. They’re organized, well-funded, highly trained, and fueled by vampire blood.”

“Vampire blood?” Sookie asks, sure she’s misheard Eric. 

Godric confirms, “We are familiar with this particular pack. They use vampire blood to strengthen themselves. They will be drawn to Fangtasia not only for you and the young one, but for the other patrons. They may already be customers.” 

“Sookie, I need you to listen to me,” Eric leans forward to impress upon Sookie the importance of his words. “You have no concept of how dangerous werewolves are. They’re virtually silent. They have no fear of death. And when they’ve had our blood, their strength can be a challenge. Even for me.” 

“Eric is right,” Godric confirms more gently to Sookie. “For these reasons, you are essential to this plan. You can hear their thoughts. We will need you listening for information we cannot hear during the interrogation. It will not be easy to hear.” 

“I love him,” Sookie repeats firmly. “I’ll torture them myself if I have to. You can’t scare me away.” Eric sees Godric’s blind, endless, overflowing love in Sookie. Eric understands in this moment Godric’s fondness for the young mortal. 

“I know,” Godric assures truthfully.

“Please don’t encourage her,” Eric chastises Godric in half-hearted annoyance. “Sookie, when we catch one, you are to listen only, not show yourself. You can listen from my office. Do not reveal your position to the prisoner. I cannot be more clear. Do you understand?”

“Sure, fine, yes,” Sookie agrees, happy to be making progress with powerful friends and even happier to be included. Sookie stands to embrace Godric and Eric. Eric rolls his eyes. “Thank you both so, so much. You’ll have to wait on Bill’s thanks until after we bring him home.” Sookie wipes a few final tears. “What am I supposed to do until we catch one? Just sit around?” 

Eric considers this question and asks rhetorically, “Godric, did you know that Sookie is a waitress?” Eric stands, “We’ll be opening soon. Help Pam and Ginger run the bar tonight. When they show themselves, Godric and I will be ready.” 

Godric follows Eric to the discreet basement he did not know existed until this moment. Eric locks the door behind them as Godric descends the stairs. Godric takes in the sight of the torture chamber in Eric’s basement. He crosses his arms and awaits Eric’s explanation. 

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Eric asks without a twinge of shame as he joins Godric. He steps forward to look around the space. “Can you believe it was once an adult video store?” 

“I can,” Godric answers with a sense of humor Eric hasn’t heard from him in a long time.

Eric rolls his eyes teasingly, “Come on. I know you have an appreciation for the finer things.” He approaches a long rope hanging from the ceiling where, upon closer inspection, Godric finds a large metal wheel. “It’s quite versatile.” Eric holds his open palm out to Godric as an invitation to demonstrate. Godric sees mischief on Eric’s face. 

“We have guests,” Godric reminds Eric as he gives his hand to Eric. Eric smiles, lust in his eyes. Eric ties a complicated knot around Godric’s wrist. “Do you know who would enjoy this? The Magister.”

Eric knows he’s been caught, but does not show his cards just yet. Eric disregards Godric’s obvious segue, “Am I not allowed any fun at all, Godric? Really.” Eric takes Godric’s other hand to bind his wrists together. Godric watches Eric’s face as he plays with Godric childishly. “We’ve been apart too long. You’ve forgotten about fun. Let me remind you.” Eric finishes his knot and pulls the rope tightly. Godric’s loose arms are lifted and suspended above his head.

“Eric, säljer du vampyrblod åt drottningen?” ‘Eric, are you selling vampire blood for the queen?’ Godric asks directly. Eric’s silence is the only confirmation Godric needs. More softly, “You should have told me.”

“I’m handling it,” Eric arrogantly argues for his pride alone. Eric ties another tight knot in the rope to keep his handiwork in place. “We need more time like this: just the two of us. I’ll remind you of all the fun we’ve had. All the fun we should be having.” Eric begins the work of unbuttoning Godric’s shirt. 

“The magister will be here soon. Tonight. How do you plan to handle it then?” Godric asks with all too much sincerity. If this is news to Eric, he does not show it. 

Eric has no answer short of, “Follow the Queen’s lead. Lie my ass off.” He ties Godric’s shirt up in the ropes above his head to keep it out of his way. Eric’s knuckles trace Godric’s collarbone delicately. Goose flesh grows on Godric’s skin. Eric smirks.

“The Magister will not be pleased to see me here,” Godric warns. It is an effort not to show that Eric’s distractions are all too effective. Eric begins kissing Godric’s exposed neck and Godric cannot keep the lust from his own eyes. Godric poorly disguises a very relaxed sound. 

“I thought you said he’d enjoy seeing you this way,” Eric teases playfully, his words muffled slightly against Godric’s skin. “Who wouldn’t? I am certainly enjoying you.” Eric’s hands find Godric’s hips to pull them against his own. Godric feels the impossible heat under his skin that only Eric can start. Eric senses Godric’s craving and knows well he’s already won this argument. 

Godric struggles to compose himself. He cannot keep the desire from his voice, even as he reminds Eric, “I am disgraced in the eyes of the Authority. Again. He will only judge you more harshly-” 

“The Magister can go fuck himself,” Eric responds callously. Godric should not be surprised that Eric is incapable of making things easy on himself; Godric taught him this. Eric takes Godric’s face in his hands and kisses him deeply, slowly. Godric melts into his touch. Their hips move together naturally, without thought.

As the kiss slows to an end, Eric’s eyes find Godric’s. Godric tells Eric in a whisper, “Please hear me, my Eric. I spit in the face of the Authority once. I was forced to live in solitude in the wild for a thousand years and centuries after that to avoid the True Death. If the Authority had not collapsed in on itself, I still would be.”

“Do you think I don’t know that, Godric?” Eric suddenly snaps at Godric. Godric is surprised at Eric, but does not fear his anger. Godric remains in the restraints calmly and allows Eric to bare his heart to him. 

“I was right there with you in the taiga digging through ice so we wouldn’t burn when the sun rose. I was there when we couldn’t find food for weeks at a time and drank from bears. I was there when you were nothing, except you were everything to me. You are everything to me. Everything, Godric. Our life together may have been a miserable sentence to you, but I was happy because I had you.” Eric doesn’t know when he began to raise his voice at his maker, his love, his heart. Godric does not show how this hurts; Eric does not need to be shamed for his feelings. 

After a long, shocked pause, Eric finishes his thoughts in a quiet mumble with his hand on the back of Godric’s neck, “I would gladly return to the wild today for all of eternity if it meant I could have you again like I did then. The whole world can go fuck itself. I need only you. I want only you.” Eric regrets his cruel words, but he can’t take them back. 

Godric is sure he feels Eric’s fist dive into his chest to rip out his long dead heart. Godric only looks at Eric, heartache and regret written all over his face. Godric confided in Eric this evening and only succeeded in hurting him. Godric has been selfish. Godric has hurt the one he loves the most. Eric has given Godric his life and unconditional love, what has Godric given in return?

Godric tilts his head up for a kiss, and Eric complies with his silent request. They kiss more lovingly than anyone ought to in the bondage of an underground torture chamber. Eric’s needy, desperate hands become soft on Godric’s skin. 

Godric only ends this kiss to whisper, “In all my years, I have wanted only you. I have chosen only you. I have desired only you.” Godric reminds Eric, “My responsibility to you is to protect and guide you. Do not ever mistake my love for you as anything less than unceasing. The only happiness I know is in your heart.”

The emotion of it all is too much for Eric. Godric sees a sincere, however subdued smile on Eric’s lips. Desire returns to Eric’s fingers as they tighten on Godric’s waist. Godric pulls Eric into another kiss, this one fiery with a century of unmet passion. Godric is soon overwhelmed with wanting under Eric’s touch. 

Eric keeps his movements just a moment slower than Godric craves. Godric’s mouth seeks Eric’s kiss greedily, and Eric grabs his jaw to kiss Godric at a slow pace Godric cannot speed up. Godric’s hips seek out pleasure from Eric’s thigh positioned between his own, and Eric steadies Godric’s hips to apply pressure as Eric sees fit. 

“Ást-kær,” Godric whispers a plea, and Eric covers Godric’s lips with two fingers. Godric takes control once again as he wraps his lips around Eric’s fingers, sucking down to Eric’s knuckles. 

It is now Eric’s turn to lose himself to desire. He watches Godric suck on his finger and feels his tongue work around his skin, and Eric knows he is eternally Godric’s. The avidity in Godric’s dark eyes alone could command armies. 

Eric removes his own shirt. Eric’s free hand unbuttons Godric’s pants. He drops to his knee to remove the last of the clothing from Godric’s body and press wet kisses to his length. Godric struggles not to destroy his bonds to touch Eric’s beautiful face. Eric takes Godric into his mouth urgently. Godric has no control over the moan that escapes his lips, or the next string of moans when he feels the back of Eric’s throat. 

Eric keeps a tight grip on Godric’s hips as his mouth works skillfully around him. Eric brings Godric quickly to the edge, but does not allow him his peak yet. Godric’s head falls back and his eyes fall closed as Eric takes him as he wishes. “Mitt hjärta är ditt. Jag är din, min ást-kær,” ‘My heart is yours. I am yours, my love-dear,’ Godric bares his heart to Eric without reservation, lost in his love. 

Godric could cry at the loss of Eric’s mouth. Eric rises and kisses Godric’s mouth. Godric takes all Eric gives him gratefully and searches for more. “Ditt nöje är bara mitt att höra. Tysta inte ner dig själv,” ‘Your pleasure is only mine to hear. Do not silence yourself ,’ Eric instructs. Godric nods in agreement before kissing Eric again eagerly, having all but entirely forgotten of their other responsibilities. 

Eric soon ends their kiss again, replacing his mouth with his fingers. Godric is so very good to Eric, sucking his fingers deeply without hesitation. For far longer than necessary, Eric loses himself in watching Godric’s pretty mouth take his fingers so nicely. 

Eric would gladly draw this out all week if he could, but he knows their time is limited. Eric takes his wet fingers from Godric’s mouth and begins the work of opening him. Eric draws Godric’s bare, slender body flush against his own as his fingers work past tight rings of muscle. 

Eric soon finds Godric’s impatience hidden in a small bundle of nerves inside him. Eric draws out Godric’s pleasured moans like a musician draws out sounds from an instrument. There is no more beautiful sound to Eric than Godric’s pleasure, no more beautiful work of art than Godric’s nude body writhing in pleasure against his own. Godric’s body twists and writhes hedonistically on Eric’s hand, urging more from Eric. 

“Snälla, Eric,” ‘Please, Eric ,’ Godric begs when Eric finally fills him with three large fingers. “Snälla ta mig. Snälla, min älskade. Jag behöver dig inom mig. Jag önskar att vi ska vara ett. Snälla, min älskling.” ‘Please take me. Please, my love. I need you inside me. I desire for us to be one. Please, my sweetheart.’ Eric cannot deny Godric this long, not while his pleas for Eric are so sweet. 

Eric removes his hand from Godric’s needy body to quickly replace with his length. With the grace of an acrobat, Godric pulls himself up by the ropes in his hands to wrap his legs around Eric’s waist so Eric may fill Godric more deeply. Eric smirks and pulls Godric as closely as he can have him. Eric pulls Godric the rest of the way onto himself with hands on his hip and lower back. Their moans fill the space. Eric rests his head against Godric’s shoulder, overcome with pleasure. 

Eric and Godric fuck at a pace far more quick than they usually manage. They pull one another impossibly closer with each thrust, desperate for one another. They are beyond words. They move quickly together with reckless abandon, mouths and hands urging the other closer, closer, closer. 

They could continue their union for days, weeks, and still be left unsatisfied. When Eric’s hand finds Godric’s length between them, it is impossible to know how much time has passed. When Eric and Godric meet their peak together, tangled together like snakes in the grass, they curl into one another tightly with bruising grips.

In the silence that follows, Godric’s head lolls back before he kisses Eric again. Eric’s hungry kisses melt into something soft and slow and selfless. Godric feels a lightness he rarely experiences. He slips his hands out of Eric’s knot so he may cup Eric’s cheeks affectionately. Needy hands soften, too, as Eric supports Godric’s light weight. 

“Jag älskar dig min Eric,” ‘I love you my Eric,’ Godric whispers between kisses as his fingers card through Eric’s hair. “Jag har alltid älskat dig. Du är min kärlek, mitt hjärta.” ‘ I have always loved you. You are my love, my heart.’ Eric watches as Godric kisses his jaw and whispers, “Du är mitt liv. Du är mitt allt.” ‘You are my life. You are my everything.’ 

Eric, for now, lets go of the secrecy between them. He silently forgives Godric of his failings and bad decisions, at least for now. Godric is here now, pledging his heart to Eric. Eric takes Godric’s chin in his hand and kisses him deeply. Godric reciprocates with an open heart that is only Eric’s.

Chapter Text

7

-

Dubrovnik, 1667

“Godric?” Nora’s panicked voice wakes Godric through the darkness. The ground shakes around them. They only went to ground a few short hours ago. “What’s happening?” 

“Shh,” Godric soothes, still half-asleep. He pulls Nora more tightly to his chest and she curls closer instinctually. “Jordbävning,” Godric whispers in an  attempt to explain, realizing now he has not yet learned the English word for this. 

“What?” Nora has not yet learned this Old Norse word. Eric sleeps like the dead, he will be unwakeable for translations until after sunset. 

“We are safest where we are,” Godric assures. They could not escape their resting place now if they wanted to, the sun will be bright in the sky by now. “The world is restless for a few moments, that is all. Do not worry. We are safe. Please, try to rest. You are too young for the bleeds.” 

Nora and Godric do not sleep well this day despite Godric’s soothing humming and his protective arms around her. Eric sleeps deeply despite their whispering throughout the day. Each time Nora comes close to sleep, the earth shakes again, and she is terrified.

When evening comes, Nora wakes Godric again, anxious to escape the ground. Godric meets something very large and heavy before he can reach the surface. Without steady footing, it isn’t particularly easy for Godric to lift the fallen ancient trees off their resting place, but he manages. “What happened?” Eric mumbles as he finally wakes to Nora and Godric climbing to the surface.

“Jordbävning,” Godric responds, his voice strained from lifting. The trees fall several feet away. Nora hurries after Godric. 

“An earthquake?” Eric asks, suddenly very concerned with the day’s happenings. 

“That was an earthquake?” Nora asks in disbelief, “It lasted all day.” 

“Efterskalv,” Godric names. 

“Aftershocks,” Eric translates. Eric realizes the ramifications of the natural disaster when he emerges from the ground and sees the forest crumbling around them. “Earthquake. Fuck,” Eric scrambles to the surface after his family. “You don’t think-”

“This changes nothing. We will continue our hunt,” Godric declares. 

“Stay very near to me,” Godric reminds in a whisper to his very, very young vampire as they tread carefully through the remains of Dubrovnik. The city is little more than a pile of ruins now. The air is obscured with a thick, persistent dust. Even Godric can hardly see more than a block away in any direction. Fires roar across the coastal city, lighting their way through the dark.  

It is against Godric’s better judgment that Nora joins Eric and Godric on their centuries-old hunt for the werewolf master that caused the death of Eric’s human family several hundred years ago. “You and I have thousands of years of strength between us, Godric,” Eric had argued prior to their journey. “We can protect her. Besides, she’s never even left London. What purpose does immortality serve to be stuck alone in a basement?”

Godric must concede that Eric was right: the safest place for Nora is with her family. She is too young and vulnerable to be abandoned, even for a few short days.

“Please, Godric,” Nora had asked so sweetly, intentionally tugging at Godric’s heart. It is only one small example of a very, very long trend of Nora taking advantage of Godric’s love for her. “I want to be with you and Eric. I will do as you instruct every step of the way, I swear it. Please don’t leave me alone.” How could Godric refuse her? 

“An earthquake did all this?” Nora asks in horror as they pass bodies covered in blood that twists her stomach. ”How can that be? All these people…” 

“Nora, have you heard of the element of surprise?” Eric expresses his irritation, “Silence, before I regret bringing you along.” 

They check bodies for the scent of werewolf for over an hour with no luck as they head in the direction of the capitol building, which is also little more than rubble. Eric becomes increasingly furious and struggles to show restraint. “Jävlar!” ‘Motherfuckers!’ Eric shouts as he kicks a random human head with all his strength, launching it well over a block away. 

“Eric!” Nora squeals, disturbed by his deeply inhuman action. “That was a person! How can you desecrate-” 

Eric snaps at Nora without hesitation,“In case you didn't notice, Nora, I never had a chance to kill this particular human because the fucking Earthquake did!” 

“Eric,” Godric chastises. Eric has no choice but to silence himself and give Godric his attention. “A vampire dominates his emotions. Yes?” The anger does not pass. “Patience,” Godric reminds. 

“Patience? How can you say that?” Eric snaps impulsively again. “I have had patience for 600 years and we have learned nothing!” As they attract attention to themselves by bickering, Eric steals Godric’s attention away from Nora and their surroundings. Monitoring one hot-headed, impulsive child is second nature to Godric; monitoring two is as new a skill to him as English. 

As her guardians argue, Nora becomes distracted by a scent she does not recognize. She hears a distant voice and faint heartbeat, she’s sure of it. Nora only wanders a short distance, but she disappears behind the cloud of dust before even she realizes. 

“Molim vas, pomozite mi…” The stranger calls weakly in the local language. Nora finds him beneath piles of rubble, blood on his arm. Nora, still so very human, approaches to assist him. 

“Lower your voice,” Godric commands. Something is wrong, Godric can feel it. Eric is fuming, but obeys. Nora is disappeared. Godric looks quickly in every direction to no avail. There is no sound. “Nora,” Godric barely has time to say before he hears her scream from a distance. Godric and Eric waste no time in finding her. 

Godric trusts his instincts to lead him several blocks away to a small building that miraculously survived the natural disaster today. He finds Nora in the hands of a small werewolf pack, very nearly entirely drained of blood. Godric can feel her slipping away from him. “Stop! Ubit ću je,” ‘Stop! I will kill her,’ the werewolf warns, forcing Godric to a halt in the doorway. “Pustite me da prođem i ona može živjeti.” ‘Let us pass, and she may live.’ 

Godric knows Eric may not forgive him, but Godric is left with no choice. “Prekasno je za to.” ‘It is too late for that.’ In a small fraction of a second, the pack is obliterated. Godric is covered in the warm blood of the pack. Godric quickly pulls Nora into his wet arms and brings her face to his neck, “Feed.” Eric finally catches up to Godric. He is too late. Eric stands in the doorway grieving the revenge he was so near to. 

“I’m sorry,” Nora’s weak voice shakes as she whispers into Godric’s ear. 

Godric will not hear apologies when Nora is seconds from true death. “I command you to drink my blood, my Nora. Now,” Godric feels her small fangs pierce his carotid artery, and he allows himself to relax. Godric gently smoothes her hair as she feeds on his blood and cries softly. “You are safe now,” Godric promises quietly. Nora will survive this. 

Eric finds Godric’s eyes. They silently share for the first time in 600 years of love a deep ire for one another. Godric, for Eric’s part in his nearly losing the only family he has ever known; Eric, for Godric’s part in his losing the first chance he’s had in years to avenge his human family. This is the end of Godric and Eric’s hunt for many years. 

-

Shreveport, 2009

The wolf makes its appearance late in the night. “Get your hands off of me!” Sookie argues. Godric is the first to arrive at the scene. His hands are wrapped in a painful grip around the wolf’s wrists, immediately breaking the stranger’s grip on Sookie. Sookie takes several steps back as the man cries out in pain: his wrists are broken. Godric gives Sookie a nod, signaling her to her next position, and escorts the wolf down to the basement where chains await him. Sookie excuses herself to Eric’s office. 

Eric is all too excited to release his anger onto this wolf. Godric stops him, silently reminding him of the plan. Eric struggles to obey, but recognizes that he’s caused enough grief for Godric today as it is. Eric trusts Godric. “I ain’t telling you shit!” The wolf spits in Godric’s direction, but misses dreadfully.

Godric only stares at the man silently. Godric allows the man to notice the scent of rotten death, the blood stains on the walls, and the deep darkness in Godric’s eyes. Godric watches as the man struggles and realizes he cannot free himself from his chains. “My people will come for me,” the wolf threatens, already revealing secrets. “They’ll avenge me.” Eric snorts in a small, cruel laugh. “They will! You wait and see!” 

Still, Godric silently watches the man in chains as Sookie scribbles the werewolf’s thoughts onto paper upstairs. Before the wolf even realizes Godric has moved, he has taken a cell phone from the wolf’s pocket. “Hey! Goddamn it.” The wolf struggles against his bonds in vain. The wallpaper is a picture of the prisoner with a woman. Godric shows it to the wolf silently. Godric can see the pain in the wolf’s eye. 

Eric simply watches in fascination. Godric always has known how to command a room. 

Upstairs, in a volume only Godric and Eric can pick up on over the loud bar music, Sookie says, “His name is Derek. He’s from Mississippi. I think his pack is called Jackson or something? He loves a lady named Maggie. Black hair, brown eyes. She’s a werewolf, too.” 

The phone receives a call. The caller is called Cooter. Godric shows the phone screen to Eric, then to Derek. “Fuck,” Derek shakes his head, “you guys are so fucked.” Derek fights his chains once again, with more strength this time, fueled by what Godric knows is fear. Godric pulls a knife from the wall and drags its blade along Derek’s cheek, releasing his blood. Derek shouts and fights to no avail. Godric then bites into his own wrist, releasing his own blood. Godric has Derek’s attention now. 

Derek very nearly breaks his chains, but of course, he does not. He lunges toward Godric, but remains several inches away. Eric tenses protectively, ready to destroy the prisoner before any harm can come to Godric. “Ást-kærr,” ‘Love dear,’ Godric chooses his words carefully so as to disguise meaning from Derek - and Sookie. “Tålamod. Jag har kontroll,” ‘Patience. I have control, ’ Godric reminds Eric. 

“What is that? Do you even speak English?” Derek asks in frustration, still fighting to inch closer to Godric’s bleeding wrist. Godric forces the knife into Derek’s leg, releasing a pained shout. Derek bleeds rapidly onto the floor now. “Fuck! Just- Look, just give me your blood and I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know. Just- Just say something. What do you want? You want something, just say it. Fuck, English? Does anybody here speak fucking English?!”

“His supplier is a vampire named Russell Edgington. He gave his blood to the whole pack. Does that name mean anything to you?” Sookie asks. Godric and Eric look at one another knowingly. 

“Får jag döda honom nu?” ‘May I kill him now?’ Eric asks Godric hopefully. 

Godric deliberates this long and hard as Derek squirms and bleeds and begs. Godric kneels before Derek and looks into his eyes curiously. Derek looks willingly into Godric’s eyes, clearly convinced Godric and Eric cannot understand him, “Please say somethin’, man. Jesus. I never asked for this. I’m a dead man anyway, even if I ever get out of here.” Derek begins to cry. “Just kill me quickly, please.” 

“Han är patetisk,” ‘He is pathetic,’ Eric laughs, clearly pleased with the outcome of this interrogation. 

Godric does not laugh at this trapped creature’s misfortune. “I do not take pleasure in harming you, Derek. I apologize for this,” Godric’s tone is all too kind for Eric’s liking. Derek calms considerably and stares deeply into Godric’s eyes. Eric realizes that Godric is glamouring Derek. “Would you be willing to answer my questions?”

”Yeah man, anything for you,” Derek nods calmly, as though his femoral artery is not bleeding out. Godric has an especially powerful gift of glamouring, even among vampires his age. 

“Thank you, my friend. When did you last drink your master’s blood?” Godric asks. 

“Two weeks ago,” Derek answers through his trance. 

“I see,” Godric accepts. “Has Russell Edgington ever attempted to control your mind?”

“No,” Derek answers. “Why would he?”

Godric shrugs faintly and smiles with soft eyes, “I suppose you are right, he has no reason. You do his bidding, yes?” 

“Yeah, my pack works for him,” Derek says. 

“Has any vampire ever controlled your mind? Please think back, they may have instructed you to forget. You may now remember, if this is true,” Godric explains. 

Derek thinks carefully, as instructed, but still denies, “No, I can’t remember anything like that.” 

“Good, that is good news,” Godric praises. 

“Detta är ett slöseri med tid,’ ‘This is a waste of time,’ Eric complains. 

Godric ignores Eric, “Have you ever lived anywhere other than Mississippi? Anywhere your pack would look for you if you were to disappear? Anywhere you’ve always wanted to go?” 

“Nope,” Derek answers. “I’ve been in Jackson all my life. I grew up in the Jackson pack. Never even seen the ocean.” 

“För helvete, Godric,” ‘Damn it, Godric,’ Eric exclaims in annoyance. 

Godric shares, “The ocean is very beautiful. I would like very much for you to experience it.” Derek watches Godric with fascination. “You are not safe with your pack any longer, is that correct?” 

Derek shares sadly, “No. I failed to capture Sookie Stackhouse. I can’t go back without her.” 

“I am very sorry to hear that,” Godric says honestly. “Tell me the truth, do you take pleasure in harming others?” 

“No, of course not,” Derek is taken aback by the question. “Not even on V.” 

”Very good,” Godric decides, “I do not want unnecessary harm to come to you by staying here. I would like for you to travel away from here. See the world, and when you find a place far away from Jackson and Shreveport that feels like home, you may take up roots there. If you wish.” Derek’s leg and face heal, and he is light again. “You will forget the suffering Russell Edgington and other vampires brought upon your life, and the life of your pack. You will forget Sookie Stackhouse. You enjoyed a beautiful life full of love in Jackson, but it is time for you to live for yourself. Do you understand?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. That sounds real nice,” Derek responds. 

“You will not contact your pack or return for at least two years,” Godric adds. “For your safety. You will not remember me or my partner here or Sookie Stackhouse or Fangtasia. You will not pursue vampire blood ever again.”

Derek nods, falling deeper into his glamour-induced trance, “Of course.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Derek,” Godric pats his arm fondly. “Ást-kærr,” Godric asks, “Något mer du vill lägga till?” ‘Anything else you would like to add?’

“ Jag kommer att döda honom innan han lämnar fastigheten,” ‘I will kill him before he leaves the property,’ Eric warns. 

“Det gör du inte,” ‘You will not,’ Godric forbids. “Den här mannen vill bara vara fri. Vi kommer inte att förneka honom.” ‘This man wishes only to be free. We will not deny him.’ A younger, less mature Eric would have stormed out of the room, but Eric now has no intention of leaving Godric unsupervised for any amount of time. 

“You speak real good English,” Derek compliments absentmindedly, nearly drooling in his trance. Godric releases the prisoner, who does not move at all.

“Come,” Godric holds an open hand out to Derek, “you may tidy yourself in the washroom upstairs and take your leave to begin your new life.” Derek takes Godric’s outstretched hand to find his balance and suddenly buries Godric in his embrace. Eric’s hand is just as quickly at Derek’s back in preparation to rip his heart out. “Don’t,” Godric’s command is muffled from behind Derek’s shoulder, but Eric still hears it just before he can act. 

“I’m real glad we met,” Derek tells Godric. 

“As am I,” Godric responds in kind.

Eric rolls his eyes in disgust and jealousy, “Let’s get this show on the road, Derek.” Derek smiles, nods, and releases Godric to follow Eric up the stairs.

“Your English is really good, too,” Derek compliments Eric on the way up the stairs. Eric considers disobeying Godric to murder this moron. 

The basement is cleaned of all illegal and immoral activity when Sookie and Eric return. It smells distinctly of bleach and Febreeze. Weapons, bonds, and other metal objects are stacked in a delicate Tetris-like arrangement in the large closet under the staircase. Plastic boxes and old, wooden crates filled with an assortment of items long stored in the large closet under the staircase now litter the room. The basement now looks - and smells - like nothing more than a place for Eric and Pam to store sentimentals. Godric takes a seat atop a sturdy box to rest a moment. Even with Eric’s blood in his veins, Godric tires more easily than he should. This does not escape Eric’s attention. 

“Wow, you sure cleaned this place up quick,” Sookie comments cheerfully. “Pack up, we’re going to Jackson.” 

“Were you not paying any attention at all? The king wants you. We know where he is, we don’t need bait,” Eric scolds. 

Sookie is unswayed, “Okay, so you guys fight the king and I’ll get Bill out-”

“Get Bill out? Alone? Past dozens of werewolf and vampire guards, and who knows what else?” Eric scoffs. 

“And Jess,” Sookie argues. 

“The young progeny will not join us,” Godric interjects. “In the absence of her maker, she is our responsibility. It is what I would want for mine if I were in Bill Compton’s position.” Sookie is naturally less combative with Godric than Eric, so she accepts this. 

“Pamela and Jessica will retreat to Dallas. The king has no connections there. Sookie,” Godric looks up at the young human with great respect and admiration for her courage, “I agree with Eric. I would want someone that loved me as you do as far away from this as possible. It will be very violent.”

Sookie knows Godric is right, but that doesn’t make hearing it any easier. “This king is very old and very powerful. Possibly older than Eric, and even I, very possibly stronger. You are a great friend of ours. Our ability to reunite you with your Bill Compton may be extremely limited if we are also bound to protect you.” 

The way Godric says it makes sense. Of course it does. Godric is kind and good and empathetic in ways Sookie has yet to see in Eric. “I’m not going to Dallas when Bill is in Jackson. I just can’t.” 

Godric nods solemnly, “I understand. I would choose the same.” Godric and Eric’s eyes meet meaningfully. Godric stands with a slightly visible strain only Eric notices. “Jessica and Pamela should leave Louisiana promptly. This place is not secure. Eric, you and I will remain here for the day. We leave at tomorrow’s sunset.” 

Eric is not pleased with any of this, but agrees, “We will meet you in Jackson tomorrow night. I will send someone from Jackson to escort you to Mississippi today. You will be safe with him. You two will wait at a safe distance with a getaway car for Godric and I to free Bill.” 

Sookie has never been a fan of Eric’s, but she’s starting to think maybe his hatred came from missing Godric. Sookie’s only been away from Bill for a day, and she already understands. “I don’t know how to thank you both.” Godric gives a tired smile as she hurries up the stairs. 

Eric lingers, watching Godric sit back down on the box tiredly again. There are no words that can make right the way Eric spoke to Godric tonight. Eric sits beside Godric silently and holds his hand. Godric presses a kiss to the back of Eric’s hand before letting their hands rest together in his lap. 

“I did not know love before you,” Godric finally shares. He knows well that Eric struggles to understand this, so he explains as simply and gently as he can. “I have loved you the best way I know how.” 

Eric is full of shame. “I was angry. Please-” 

“Please hear me,” Godric requests. Eric silences himself and gives Godric his full attention. “I did not choose this life. I never chose to become death. I am, nonetheless.” Godric emphasizes, “I chose you. And you chose me. That day in the snow, I became forever yours. Your life is my life’s best part. This is always true.” It is Eric that now has blood tears on his cheeks.

“I do not fully understand what is happening to me,” Godric admits. “I am more sorry than you can know. I see myself failing you and I cannot stop myself. Please know I love you with all I am. I wish only to be enough to love you and Nora well.” 

Eric doesn’t know that he’s ever felt worse in his entire existence. Eric is confident this is Nora’s fault, but Godric won’t hear it. Eric kisses Godric’s temple and promises gently, “You are enough. I have never known another maker to love as deeply as you love us. You have given more than Nora or I ever had any right to ask for.” 

Eric squeezes Godric’s hand, “Promise me one thing and I will never ask you for more. Give me your word you will stay by my side forever, unconditionally. Keep your promise to be my father, my brother, my son, and my lover in the best way you know how, and you will be more than enough. Promise me that I can stop living in fear of losing you.” 

Eric knows Godric cannot and will not refuse him. Godric kisses Eric’s lips as softly as he did the very first time, frightened at the time he might accidentally hurt the precious, newly born vampire. Eric kisses Godric with just as much tenderness. Their lips part very slowly. “My word is yours,” Godric finds himself promising. “I am yours.”

“I am yours,” Eric whispers under his breath. Eric feels finally at ease for the first time in a century. He pulls Godric close and holds him tightly. Godric returns home in Eric’s arms.

Chapter Text

8

-

North Sea off the coast of Norway, ~150 AD

Sea birds sleep. Waves continue on their endless, repetitive movements. Sharks hunt silently beneath the freezing waters. Stars shine more brightly here than they can in Rome. 

Freedom is better than anything Godric could have imagined as a slave. Freedom is peace, quiet, loneliness. Godric uses his freedom as he pleases. Tonight, he swims beside sea creatures in the endless darkness and quiet of the waters. He breaks from his shark-friend’s hunt to float on the surface of the water and indulge in the stars and the Northern lights. The air this far north is colder than Godric’s long dead body can sense.

As he watches the stars and colorful streams of light, Godric does not think of his past. Godric dreams of swimming in the sky among the beauty that lives there. Godric wonders if that is God. Godric dreams that God might impossibly see in Godric more than the monster he has become.

Late into the night, after Godric has watched the sky spin for several hours, the blood calls for him. He has not fed in several weeks, if not longer. Godric has no choice but to follow the call of his new master.

The shore is very beautiful also, but Godric only returns to it these days for blood during the winter when waters are too cold and rough for ships to pass through. This blood smells… sick, nearly. Still, it calls for Godric, so Godric hunts.

The untouched, snowy countryside glows with the lights above: blue, green, purple. Snow collects on Godric’s wet hair and shoulders, unmelting on his cold skin, and he will soon reflect the colors of sky, too.

Deep in the forest far beyond the nearest village, the blood smells more strongly. Godric hears a distant sobbing. He takes cover behind trees and watches a young, injured, nude, snow-covered girl cry to herself. Godric’s instincts tell him to leave immediately, before the hunger takes control. Godric’s heart tells him this child will soon die if she is abandoned. No one is coming for her.

“Hej?” ‘Hello?’ The girl calls in the language Godric hears from the people of the North. She somehow senses Godric’s presence. Their eyes miraculously meet. She is not afraid. “Vem är du?” ‘Who are you?’ 

Godric is taken aback. The girl is not a vampire, but she is certainly not human, either. Godric contemplates his position before answering, “Godric.” He steps forward curiously, acutely aware of the possibility of ambush. 

“Jar är Ylva,” ‘I am Ylva,’ she answers, sniffling tears back. Godric sits in the snow facing the girl, his knees pulled to his chest. Upon closer inspection, Ylva could not be older than nine years, if that. “Fryser du inte?” ‘Are you not cold?’ 

Despite wearing nothing more than stolen shirt and pants to hide his brands, scars, and tattoos from his own eyes, the question is absurd to Godric. He answers simply, “Det är jag inte.” ‘I am not.’ Language feels odd in his mouth. Godric’s voice is hoarse and weak from lack of use. Godric struggles to recall the last time he spoke any language at all. 

Godric watches Ylva shake in the cold. Godric removes his shirt and offers it to her silently. Ylva looks at the shirt longingly, not at all concerned with Godric’s littered skin. Godric leans forward and very carefully pulls the shirt onto the girl. Her arm is broken and she bleeds from her shoulder. She is too weak to lift her arms. She explains, “Ett slag.” ‘A bear.’ He kindly pulls her arm through the sleeve of the shirt to keep it warm. She complains in no more than in tiny whimpers. 

Godric retracts from her again, not wanting to steal her warmth with his eternal cold. “Vad är du?” ‘What are you?’ She asks. 

Godric does not answer her. “'Du kommer snart att dö. Mitt blod kan läka dig, om du vill,” ‘You will die soon. My blood can heal you, if you wish,’ Godric speaks slowly, finding the words distantly in his memory.

“Kommer det att göra ont? ‘Will it hurt?’ Ylva asks fearfully.

Godric shakes his head, vowing honestly, “Jag kommer inte att skada dig.” ‘I will not harm you.’

The girl believes him. If Godric intended to hurt her, he would not have wasted time talking. “Snälla hjälp mig, Godric.” ‘Please help me, Godric.’ 

Godric nods in agreement. He moves slowly to avoid frightening the child. He keeps his fangs tucked tightly behind his lips. He digs through the snow to find a sharp rock. He cuts his wrist harshly so it does not heal too quickly. Ylva watches in fear and curiosity. Godric holds his wrist out for Ylva as an offering. Ylva holds Godric’s wrist and drinks his blood. She is gentle and Godric feels no pain. She stops after a moment and asks, “Varför smakar ditt blod godis?” ‘Why does your blood taste of candy?’

Godric does not answer. Ylva’s bleeding stops. Her strength returns to her. Ylva’s arm heals. She tells her new friend that her village is on the other side of the mountain. She invites him to join her so her family can thank him. Godric escorts Ylva to her home to ensure the bear that has tasted her blood does not stop her from returning to her village.

On their journey, Ylva tells Godric everything. Ylva is varulv: both human and wolf. Godric realizes from a mile away that Ylva’s entire village smells inhuman, as her blood does. “Tack,” ‘Thank you,’ are the last words they exchange. 

For many generations, Godric is the shadow of the night that silently protects the children of this varulv village from bears and other predators. Godric spends many winter nights watching the village from the trees, curious and lonely. Godric spends summers in colder climates, but always returns to see Ylva and her descendants.  

One winter, Godric returns to destruction and death. And a symbol the humans here call wolfsangel burned into some surviving walls. And a small, frightened, white wolf hiding in the forest. Godric identifies him immediately as a direct descendent of his Ylva. Godric introduces himself as a friend and brings the child to safety with another pack in a village far, far away. On their long journey, Godric cares for the child like his own. Saying goodbye to this wolf was far more difficult than it was with Ylva. Godric continues to watch over this pack for all his years. 

-

Shreveport, 2009

“How you feeling, Godric?” Sookie asks as she places Godric’s thirteenth bottle of Tru Blood on the bar. “I gotta say, you’re looking better already.” 

“Thank you, Sookie,” Godric replies simply. 

“I think I’m understanding Tru Blood now. They reinvented alcoholism for vampires,” a very deep voice addresses Godric, accompanied by an especially warm hand on his back. 

Godric knows his presence long before he speaks, but Godric does enjoy hearing his voice. Godric finds himself smiling genuinely as he looks up to greet, “Alcide. Thank you for coming.” Godric stands to embrace his friend.

“Sure, sure, not a problem. You know you’re family. Your friend will be safe with me,” Alcide assures. 

“Are you and your father well? Do you need anything?” Godric asks, as he always does.

“We’re doin’ just fine,” Alcide responds with a genuine smile. “You know Dad, mostly just keeps to himself these days.”

“Sookie?” Godric requests her attention from the bar, “This is Alcide Herveaux. He will escort you to Jackson tonight.” 

“Time to clock off already? I was just gettin’ the hang of this,” Sookie jokes as she pulls off her waist apron and comes out from behind the bar. Sookie offers her hand to Alcide to shake, “Sookie Stackhouse. It’s awful nice of you to come all this way just for me, I sure do appreciate it.” 

“Alcide Herveaux. Good to meet you, Sookie,” Alcide responds in kind. “Ready to head out?” Jessica and Pamela are already en route to Dallas, where Isabel will protect them. Eric has disposed of anything in this building that might even indirectly connect them to illegal activity, and now conducts a final sweep. 

Sookie nods, “Let’s go. I’ll see you and Eric tomorrow, Godric. Thank you so much, again.” Sookie and Alcide leave together. 

Godric hardly has time to step behind the bar for another Tru Blood before the Magister, Queen Sophie-Anne, and several armed guards walk through the front door. “This establishment is now closed. Please exit the building immediately,” the Magister announces to the full bar. 

Godric takes one last sip of Tru Blood before setting down the drink and walking back around the bar to give their guests his full attention. “Begin your search,” the Magister instructs his guards. “Former sheriff Godric of Area 9,” the Magister acknowledges once the room is cleared of patrons. “Your King mentioned your disgrace.” 

Godric shows no emotion, “Is this the purpose of your visit, Magister Alonso?”

“Is your allegiance still to the King of Texas?” The Magister asks knowingly. Queen Sophie-Anne is suspiciously quiet beside the Magister. 

Godric gladly buys time for Eric, but he surely hates the Magister. “The King of Texas is a good man. I worked under him for many years. I respect his leadership. This has not changed.” 

“Why are you here?” The Magister continues his interrogation. 

“Visiting old friends,” Godric answers shallowly. “Where would you go if you were denounced from the Authority?” 

“I certainly would not find myself in your position,” the Magister’s words are venomous, per usual. Godric will never understand how his Nora can tolerate this personality on a regular basis. He misses her dearly, even now. “Where is Sheriff Northman?”

“Apologies, I was on the phone,” Eric greets dismissively as he enters the room to stand beside Godric. “What can I do for you, Magister? My Queen?” 

“What are you to each other?” The Magister’s focus is unyielding. 

Godric answers before Eric can, “You may not know this, but the world was a much smaller place a thousand years ago. I knew Eric when he was only a young vampire, as I did you both much more recently.” 

Eric would laugh if it would not likely result in an abundance of consequences. The Magister and Godric have at least one thing in common: they despise each other fiercely. “Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area 5 in Louisiana, you have been accused by your Queen of selling vampire blood in your area. This is a crime of the highest order, punishable by true death. I am warranted by the authority to search for evidence against you - and take additional measures to find the truth. What do you have to say for yourself?” 

Eric and Queen Sophie-Anne share hateful eye contact. “You will find no evidence,” Eric responds simply, as Godric taught him. “These claims are unsubstantiated. I run a very successful vampire bar, I have no motive to sell vampire blood.” 

“Is that so?” The Magister asks. A guard returns from Eric’s office with dozens of vials of what they all assume is vampire blood. The Magister and the Queen are framing Eric right before their eyes. 

“The blood is mine,” Godric claims. There is no other way to protect Eric. “I am guilty. This is how I plead.” 

“Godric,” Eric is furious, but Godric will not allow Eric to suffer for this. 

The Magister smirks, even more pleased by the opportunity to finally punish Godric than he was Eric. “Sheriff Northman knew nothing,” Godric testifies.

“No,” Queen Sophie-Anne pleads genuinely. Godric is widely loved, Sophie-Anne is not immune to this. “It can’t be. It’s clearly Eric Northman. ”

“Guards. Silver Mr. Godric and Mr. Northman,” the Magister commands his guards. 

“You will not,” Eric bares his fangs at the Magister. 

“Eric,” Godric commands in that tone Eric cannot deny, “stand down.” Trust me, Godric’s eyes demand. Eric obeys, but his fangs do not retract. 

“Extensive interrogations are in order,” the Magister decides as the guards wrap silver chains tightly around Godric’s and Eric’s necks and wrists. Godric’s skin burns visibly, but he does not react otherwise. Godric hardly feels it. “This one first.” Eric, however, hisses in pain.

Sophie-Anne is clearly distressed, but has no reservations about suggesting, “The basement. Through Mr. Northman’s office, that door.”

“This is absurd,” Eric complains helplessly. Guards stand at his side to keep him from following Godric to the basement. 

Godric is entirely compliant. The door closes Godric, the Magister, Queen Sophie-Anne, and two guards in the basement, sealing them apart from the rest of the guards and Eric. In only a fraction of a second, Godric is the sole survivor of their small group. In several more seconds, the remains of their bodies are cleaned and disposed of, leaving the basement free of evidence. Godric takes no pleasure in killing these vampires, not even the Magister; it is nothing more than a necessary evil to protect Eric. 

Godric returns from the basement shortly after. The remaining guards surrounding Eric are dead before Eric fully comprehends what’s happening. One look at Godric splattered in blood and free of his bonds and Eric knows what he’s done. Eric looks at his maker with shocked, wide eyes. Eric is speechless. Godric killed the Magister. Godric killed the Queen of Louisiana. 

Godric stops before Eric to rip the silver off Eric’s wrists and neck with his bare, bloody hands. Eric knows Godric is capable of great violence; Godric is ten times the vampire Eric will ever be, but very rarely does Godric feel the need to demonstrate that fact. Even more rarely does he allow Eric to witness his violence. Godric is faster, stronger, and more skilled at killing than anyone else Eric has ever known. 

Eric looks at Godric and sees his companion in Death, as he did as he lay dying in the snow a thousand years ago. Eric loves Godric passionately. 

“You were not here to witness this,” Godric instructs Eric. “You left with Sookie and Alcide earlier to pay Russell Edgington a visit. You trusted me to watch over Fangtasia for you. You never sold vampire blood, you never saw the Magister.” 

Eric is still shocked, but argues, “I will not allow you to face the Authority’s wrath alone-”

“Eric,” the softness from Godric’s tone is gone, “Sooner or later, the Authority will be here to question you. You left with Sookie and Alcide earlier tonight to pay Russell Edgington a visit. You trusted me to watch over Fangtasia for you. You never sold vampire blood, you never saw the Magister. I command you.” 

Eric can recall perhaps one or two other times in Eric’s entire existence that Godric commanded Eric as his progeny. Eric understands Godric’s need to protect him. Eric nods in agreement, his argument dying on his tongue. “Yes, Godric,” Eric complies far more out of respect for Godric than the command itself. 

“Thank you,” Godric softens immediately, unable to show Eric any more authority than absolutely necessary. “Please help me dispose of this mess. The sun will rise soon, and we need our rest for what will come. The Authority will not come until at least tomorrow night. We are safe for now.”

Before Godric can turn away from Eric to hide his tracks, Eric grasps Godric’s wrist to pull him closer. Their mouths find one another in a passionate kiss, the Magister’s blood smearing between them. Eric’s hands wrap around Godric’s waist to pull him impossibly close. With a firm hand on the back of Eric’s neck, Godric guides Eric’s head down to bring him closer. Godric does not argue that the timing is inappropriate as Eric half expects; instead, he melts into Eric’s touch and matches Eric’s passion. They are both afraid, empowered, and exhilarated at once. At this moment, Godric and Eric are alone together against the world. Eric and Godric come together like only two eternal killers can.

It has been ages since Godric and Eric shared their bodies over the blood of their victims and enemies, but it was once a near daily occurrence. This is a celebration of their victory, a reminder of their dedication for one another, and an expression of lingering passions when the fight was all too easy. 

Eric finally has Godric back. He feels it, body and soul, Godric is his again. He feels it in Godric’s urgent hands in Eric’s hair and the craving in Godric’s eye as he watches Eric kneel before Godric with clear intentions. Godric needs only to give Eric a nod of consent to allow Eric to take Godric as he pleases. Godric is Eric’s. Small, powerful, soft, damaged, lovely, and complicated as Godric is in Eric’s strong, steady hands, all of Godric belongs to Eric. Godric may not know who he is, but Eric knows Godric. “Du är min, Godric. Jag är din.” ‘You are mine, Godric. I am yours.’ 

Eric wastes no time taking Godric into his mouth and beginning the ritual they’ve built together over the millennia. Eric loves nothing more than earning pleasured sounds from his stoic maker. It is no simple accomplishment, and this accomplishment belongs to Eric alone. Hands grip Godric’s hips and waist tightly to hold him close as pleasure courses through Godric’s nerves, writhing his muscles uncontrollably. Godric does not breathe - has not taken a necessary breath in over two thousand years - and yet Eric draws out struggling, halted breaths from Godric’s soft lips. Eric draws out an unspeakable, natural part of Godric that has somehow survived suffering beyond comparison.

Without Eric’s all-encompassing mouth to muffle Godric’s moans, they are freed for Eric’s enjoyment. Soft moans accompanied with occasional, joyful, wholesome laughter fills the air. Godric’s sounds now are honest and pure and vulnerable in a way Godric rarely exhibits at all anymore, even with Eric, and they fill Eric with pride to hear. In them, Eric hears Godric’s past, his true heart, his love for Eric. 

“Eric,” Godric moans gently with closed eyes, hands grasping Eric’s broad, muscular shoulders to keep his balance - not that Godric needs to steady himself, Eric would never allow an interruption to the skilled movements of his mouth around Godric’s length at a time like this. “Eric, ást-kærr,” Godric pleads passively, an instinctive attempt to show Eric his overpowering love in any way he can when he is far too lost in pleasure to think clearly enough to form sentences. Eric only responds with a tighter grip on his body and a low moaning around him. 

Eric watches Godric’s pleasure from behind long blond lashes as his tongue and lips and throat work fiercely around him. Eric never wants this moment to end. Godric sees no painful memories behind his eyes now: there is only Eric in his heart and mind, all around him and inside of him, now and forever. 

Godric truly never knew love before Eric, not in his heart and certainly not in his body. Godric’s body only ever knew exploitation before Eric. Godric’s body was a material resource to be taken and used and molded to another’s pleasure - nothing more. Godric’s body was a means to another’s end. Before Eric, Godric did not know his own body could be used for his own pleasure. Godric did not know his nerves could give anything but pain.

Eric knew and loved pleasure long before Godric ever found him, but never anything like the love he and Godric share. Needless to say, Godric and Eric have spent many long weeks starving because they simply would not part from one another long enough to hunt. 

If they wish to continue on another day, Eric and Godric only have a short time together now before they must leave. Eric wastes no time. He finds Godric’s mouth to kiss deeply as their entwined bodies find the bloody floor. Godric’s hips move against Eric’s impatiently, searching for the pleasure Eric so freely gives. Short nails rake bloody trails down Eric’s back as Eric finally, finally eases into Godric. Eric firmly believes the sound of Godric’s moans mixed with his own rival music of the gods.

Eric and Godric’s bodies move together as one. They exchange pleasure and blood freely, until Eric’s blood and veins and skin is indistinguishable from Godric’s. Eric is Godric’s only, and Godric’s is Eric’s. Nothing else means anything in comparison: not Eric’s father’s vengeance, not Godric’s declined mental health, not the Authority that will surely seek to destroy Godric for his crimes to no end, and least of all Nora. Godric and Eric will protect and love each other for eternity, and that is all that exists in this moment. 

This is easy, natural, right. Eric belongs in Godric’s body, in his veins, in his heart. Godric has not felt himself in this way in centuries. Godric is reminded of just how strongly he believes he was put on this cold, cruel earth for the singular purpose of loving Eric.

Chapter Text

9

-

Rome, ~55 B.C.

“Non faciem,” ‘Not the face,’ the Roman man argues with the tattooist. Godric cannot understand their words, he does not know this foreign language yet. 

Godric has recently been informed by a kind older woman from a neighboring tribe that this Roman man now owns Godric, although this entire concept is foreign to Godric. Godric does not know what it is to own, let alone to own another person. Godric understands that he must obey this new man as he once obeyed his elders, his family, and God. This man is more than all of those to Godric now, and will be until his death. 

Godric stands in complete stillness and silence between the men, waiting patiently to be branded a slave. Godric knows already better than to show any disobedience whatsoever. “Ad valorem minuendum,” ‘It would lower the value,’ Godric’s master explains. Godric hears only garbled foreign speech. 

The tattooist warns, “Uisibiliter commendo. Galliae populi barbari sunt, ille fugiet. Possumne ego?” ‘I highly recommend visibility. The Gauls are barbarians, he is likely to flee. May I?’ Godric’s new master nods in acceptance. 

The tattooist removes the worn Roman shirt from Godric’s back quickly, then removes the rest of his clothes. Godric does not resist, but feels wrong to be touched this way. The strange man’s hands are hard and unkind. Godric’s breath halts and his eyes become wide with fear. Godric’s chest tightens. Godric wonders if this is how deer feel while they are hunted. Godric reminds himself to be brave, as his father always taught him. 

The tattooist grabs the back of Godric’s neck and pushes him down face-first against the hard tattooing bench. Godric grasps onto the bench tightly to steady himself. The tattooist touches each of Godric’s tattoos as he speaks to Godric’s master, “Hoc significat seditionem ab humanitate et seditione a Deo. Hoc vetus est. Hic est serpens in spina. Dolus.” ‘This mark on the left arm is believed to symbolize rebellion from civilization, rebellion from God. On the right: these symbols are very old, they indicate a defiance from God. This on the spine, this is a serpent. Deceit.‘

Godric’s master is displeased. “Num removeri possunt?” ‘Can they be removed?’

The tattooist responds bluntly, “Non sine cicatricibus.” ‘Not without scars.’ 

All is silent for what feels like a very long time. Godric’s body begins to shake subtly, uncontrollably. The room suddenly feels very cold. Godric feels his master’s uncalloused, cold hand on his right shoulder blade, “Insignia mea hic. Et torquem super pectus.” ‘My insignia here. And a collar over his chest.’ 

The tattooist submits, “Ut libet.” ‘As you please.’ The brand is a pain like Godric has never known, far worse than the pain of his tattoos. The tattooist’s assistant holds Godric’s tiny body down as his muscles spasm beyond control and he cries out to God in what is now a slave language these men do not speak. The pain of the brand lingers for several months, but it is far from the worst pain inflicted on Godric at that age. 

Godric’s master makes certain that it is his face Godric sees as his name is branded on the small boy. “Meus es, puer. Noli hoc oblivisci.” ‘You are mine, child. Do not forget this.’ Godric does not yet know these words, but will become some of the first Latin words he commits to memory. 

-

Jackson, 2009

“I hate this plan,” Godric shares with Eric. The plantation is as gaudy as it must have been two centuries ago when it was built. The property smells distinctly of werewolf, there is no entry without conflict.

“Unless you want to bomb the place with Sookie and Alcide inside, this is our only plan,” Eric reminds. Eric isn’t the biggest fan of their current predicament either, but Russell Edgington is one step ahead of them. It could not be prevented. 

Godric’s eyes are fixed firmly on the property from the passenger seat of Eric’s car parked down the street. “Let me face him instead,” Godric barters. “I do not take pleasure in risking you.”

Eric takes Godric’s hand in his own, “I will not repeat the mistakes of the past. I know the Bill Compton situation better than you do, I can manipulate him. I know I can. Besides, you are quicker than I.” 

“If you’re wrong?” Godric asks. “If you are harmed, I-”

“Stop,” Eric requests gently. “This will work. Trust me, please, Godric. I will distract Russell Edgington. Take down the wolves outside, evacuate the hostages, then join me to destroy the King. Simple, effective. It will work.” Eric promises, “Today, we will rest at Alcide Herveaux’s home, then tomorrow night, we will be back with Pam. All will be well.” 

Eric assures, “I will not be harmed. This will work.” Godric has no choice but to trust Eric. “Ta graih aym ort.” ‘I love you.’ Godric steals a long, loving kiss from Eric before nodding in agreement. Eric disappears to offer himself to the guard dogs. Godric watches from afar so ensure they take the bait. They do. Eric’s silver tongue earns him passage to the mansion. 

Godric begins his work. He would surely spare more wolves if they only gave him the opportunity, but these wolves are impulsive and thoughtless. They attack Godric without even an opportunity to name himself. They die as quickly as they show themselves to Godric. He takes no pleasure in this. 

Eric is unsurprisingly accepted into the royal court within the hour. Godric wastes no time sneaking into the mansion to search for hostages. He finds Sookie quickly enough. He breaks the door handle to the room she is trapped in and opens it. Sookie rushes into his arms to embrace him, “Godric-”

“Shh,” Godric hushes before she can speak, but returns her embrace. After a quick visual assessment, Godric confirms his friend Sookie is unharmed. He whispers, “Where are Alcide and Bill Compton?”

Sookie shakes her head, “I don’t know. My best friend Tara is here, I don’t know why. She’s in danger, we have to help her first.” 

Godric listens to Eric downstairs to confirm he’s still searching for his father’s crown. There is time. Godric nods in agreement, “Stay very near to me.” Sookie nods and leads Godric quickly down another hall.

Godric soon hears the unmistakable sounds of a struggle, although it is somewhat subdued by the thick, silver door. “Please don’t do this, please,” a distressed human woman cries out desperately, “I want to live.“ Godric hopes for Sookie’s sake that she cannot also hear this. 

Godric opens the large, heavy door slowly to expose a disturbing scene. The young woman Sookie calls Tara is tied to the bed. A concerning amount of her blood surrounds her, and drips onto the floor. A vampire Godric personally banned from Dallas approximately thirty years ago is on top of her drinking her blood with negligent abandon: Franklin Mott. Godric wastes no time in ripping his head from his body. Mott’s body melts instantly. 

Tara hardly notices the death of her captor. She is rapidly bleeding out from her thighs, chest, neck, and wrists. Her body goes into shock. Godric acts instinctively before Sookie has even entered the room: he bites into his wrist and feeds her his blood to heal her. He sits beside her on the bed and, with his free hand, removes her bonds. 

Sookie wisely closes the door behind them before joining. Unafraid, Sookie climbs onto the bloody bed to kneel by her best friend’s side, “Tara, I’m so sorry. Tara, I’m here. Please come back, I love you.” Godric feels Sookie’s heartfelt pleas tug at his heart. “Is it too late? Tell me it isn’t too late, Godric.” 

Godric considers this before assuring, “Her heart still beats. It is not too late.” 

It is a few long minutes before the woman’s body accepts Godric’s blood and calms. Godric smooths her hair back gently as consciousness finds her. Sookie touches Tara’s cheek tenderly and smiles in relief, “Tara, I’m here. And Godric is too, he’s a friend, he saved your life. Everything’s alright now. You’re okay.” 

Tara is disoriented and shaky, but awakens nonetheless. “Sookie?” Tara and Sookie embrace lovingly. Godric listens distantly for Eric, who drones on with Russell Edgington and several others. No sounds of a struggle. Eric is successful thus far. 

“Can you walk, Tara?” Godric asks gently, needing an escape plan. Tara is able to stand with a fair degree of stability with a shaking hand on Godric’s steady shoulder. 

Tara nods strongly, “I’ll fly if that’s what it takes to get the fuck out of here.” Godric feels deep admiration for her courageous heart. Godric nods simply. He guards the entrance to the room as Sookie assists Tara in changing into clothes that will bring less attention to her bloody wounds as they sneak out of the heavily guarded mansion. 

Tara leans on Sookie as Godric leads their way down the stairs. Eric still distracts Russell Edgington and his court in another room deeper in the mansion. Godric leads the two human women slowly out the door. The darkness outside limits Sookie and Tara’s visibility significantly. Tara leans on Sookie for support, and Sookie keeps a hand on Godric’s arm to guide them. “They are in that shed. Come, let me take you to a safe location away from here, I’ll return shortly with Alcide and Bill Compton,” Godric attempts in vain. 

“I’m not going anywhere without Bill,” Sookie insists. 

“Sookie, please,” Tara begs. “We have to go. Let Godric help us. Please.” Godric sees tears in Tara’s eyes. 

“Not without Bill,” Sookie stubbornly replies. Godric cannot leave either human unattended here, it is far too dangerous. Before Godric can offer an alternative, Sookie parts from him and Tara to run blindly to Bill.

“Sookie!” Tara shouts in a whisper. Godric and Tara follow behind her. Godric destroys the lock on the door and rips it open to expose another very disturbing scene in this house of horrors. Lorena Krasiki tortures Bill Compton. Alcide is unconscious in a corner. Godric wastes no time: Lorena is dead before she knows the face that brought her true death. 

“Bill,” Sookie cries as she rushes to his bloody, tortured body. Godric checks Alcide’s pulse, then searches for injuries. He gives Alcide his blood urgently. Alcide only needs a small amount before he begins to rouse. It’s then that Godric hears something concerning. A verbal argument between Russell Edgington and another in his court. A marital disagreement, if Godric is not mistaken. Godric needs to be there with Eric now. 

“Take these people to your truck and escape,” Godric instructs Alcide as he regains his strength and rises. “I must go to Eric.” 

“You’re leaving?” Tara asks from where she leans against the wall of the shed, still slowly recovering. “Please don’t leave.”

Godric tightens his jaw, finding himself spread too thin. Eric is in no danger as of yet. Godric takes a good look at the sad group before him: a young, unconscious vampire drained of blood, a young human just brought back from the brink of death, an emotional wreck of a fairy, and a very weak werewolf. Godric complies with a nod, “We must hurry.” Godric lifts Bill Compton over his shoulder and leads the group to Alcide’s truck. 

When Godric is finally returned to the mansion many precious minutes later, he has lost track of Eric’s conversation and location. He waits near the front of the building in the shadows, listening intently. This is where Godric realizes he has made a grave error. Godric hardly has time to turn his head and comprehend in a cloud of shock, “Korun.” Korun’s hands take Godric’s neck, and Godric is unconscious. 

Godric wades in and out of consciousness like tides on the shore. One moment, Godric is returned to his master’s home in Rome where Korun tortures him for sport and Godric begs for mercy. The next, Godric is here in a Plantation shed subject to Korun’s torture once again. He returns long enough to feel a new silver knife plunged into his leg, his chest, his neck, then fades into nothingness before he has the foresight to call to Eric.

 “Still so stoic, after all these years,” Godric is sure he hears the taunts from Korun. “I guess I can’t make you any more fun like you were in Rome, but it sure is fun trying, even after all these centuries. You are a fun little trip down memory lane.” Korun smashes Godric’s skull against the hard, concrete floor, and Godric loses consciousness again. 

This is how Eric finds his maker some time later: unconscious and covered in knives, stakes, silver chains, and his own blood. “No,” Eric rushes to remove the weapons from Godric’s bloodied form. Godric has never looked smaller. “Godric, we have to go. Please, Godric, wake up,” Eric begs as he pulls Godric into his arms. Godric is limp, but his heart is unpunctured, so Eric has hope. Eric takes Godric away from this place with blood tears on his cheeks. 

Eric returns with Godric to somehow even more of a shitshow at Alcide’s home. In Eric’s absence, a surviving wolf from the plantation called Debbie Pelt had followed Alcide’s truck home and attacked. Tara is dead. Sookie and Alcide are badly injured. Bill Compton is still largely unconscious. 

Can these people do nothing without Eric?

Chapter Text

10

-

Rome, ~45 B.C.

“Godric!” A young woman’s hushed voice rouses him from a nightmare. Godric wakes with a start. He is in the slaves’ quarters this night, a rare relief. His master is away for war. Godric’s bed is hard and cold, and he shakes uncontrollably with sickness as he always does when his master is away for so long, but he gladly chooses this over his master’s coffin any night he is given the choice. 

“Godric, she uss eh,” ‘Godric, it is you,” the woman embraces him tightly before Godric can see her face in the dim light. Her hair is soft and familiar on his face. Godric returns the hug sleepily, confused. The woman must be a slave, she speaks the slave language, but she is not a slave of this household. How is she here? Godric sleepily wonders if she is an angel; it is equally likely as a runaway slave finding Godric here. 

“Shegin dooin goll. Jannoo siyr.” ‘We must go. Hurry.’ The woman urges Godric quietly. She pulls away to look at Godric and he knows her. Her eyes have hardened and her face is scarred, but Godric would know her in any lifetime. 

“Aia,” Godric’s eyes fill with tears. He embraces her again tightly. Godric does not know if he is asleep or perhaps finally, finally dead, but he feels a joy he has not felt since he was a small child. 

Aia indulges in the reunion and holds her little brother tightly in her arms. “Shegin dooin goll nish, beg.” ‘We must go now, little one.” 

Godric has never before even dreamed of escaping his master. Godric has long accepted his new life - and the death of his family and tribe. Yet, Godric’s sister is alive and here. This changes everything Godric thought he knew. Godric cannot leave her side. 

Miraculously, they escape Rome to the forest. They walk in the direction the Roman soldiers once stole them from for several days before they are found. These are the happiest days Godric knows in many years. 

Despite the way Godric’s body shakes with the distance from his master, Godric is foolishly hopeful he and Aia have truly escaped. Godric and Aia will soon find a safe haven, Aia’s baby will be born, and they will be free. Godric wonders on occasion if this hope is a consequence of his sickness.

Godric and Aia sleep in a tight embrace each night, afraid to be so much as an inch apart. Godric lies awake on this third night as the shaking finally stops. Godric is exhausted beyond comprehension, but sleep does not come. For reasons Godric can only understand as the insanity that comes with vampires constantly controlling his mind, Godric turns away from Aia, grabs a sharp rock, and cuts his hand with it. His skin does not heal. Godric continues to cut his skin again and again. Godric has never done this before. 

“Godric?” Aia wakes despite Godric’s silence. Godric does not respond. “Cha nel.” ‘No.’ Aia takes the rock from Godric and throws it away. “Cre' ta shiu jeant? Cre t'ou smooinaghtyn?” ‘What are you doing? What are you thinking?’ 

Aia sees fear in Godric’s eyes, but he does not otherwise respond. Godric searches the dirt beneath him for another sharp rock. Aia takes Godric’s hands in her own soft hold to stop him. “Stoo, Godric.” ‘Stop, Godric.’ Tears fall to Godric’s cheeks as his eyes meet Aia’s. “Cre'n red ta foalsey? Cre'n fa?” ‘What is wrong? Why?’

Godric gives Aia his honesty, “Chanelfysaym. S'olk lhiam.” ‘I don’t know. I’m sorry.’ Aia pulls him close into a firm embrace, unafraid of his bloody wrists. Godric holds onto his sister tightly, hoping the insanity has passed. 

It is the smell of Godric’s blood that draws Godric’s master to them. Aia has taken Godric to a nearby river and is washing blood away from his skin when Godric senses he’s near. “Aia, roie. Cur taitnys da. Faag mee.” ‘Aia, run. Leave me. Please.’ 

Aia ignores Godric and continues her work of cleaning his wounds. “Nish, my t'ou uss,” ‘Now, please,’ Godric begs. Godric’s eyes widen and his body tenses when he sees his master’s eyes from a distance. It is too late. Godric’s master and progeny stand at the treeline, watching. Time slows. It all happens too quickly.

“Ta graih aym ort,” ‘I love you,’ is all Godric can think to say to Aia in his terror. Surely, they will both die this night. 

Godric’s master is inches from Godric’s face in a fraction of a second. Rage radiates off him. Aia is frightened and pulls Godric back from him, but Godric becomes very still. “Quae est haec mulier tibi?” ‘Who is this woman to you?’

Godric’s eyes glaze over as he gazes into his master’s endless eyes. “Soror mea,” ‘My sister,’ Godric answers without thought or emotion. “Familia mea est. Eam amo.” ‘She is my family. I love her.’

Aia argues fearlessly with Godric’s master, “Nullas ius. Hoc non est Roma, non est hoc tuum territorium.” ‘You have no right. This is not Rome, this is not your territory.’ 

Remus laughs at her bravery. Godric’s master commands her, “Silentium.” ‘Silence.’ He towers over Godric and asks, “Illa tibi a me surripuit?” ‘She stole you from me?’ 

Godric shakes his head, “Nec.” ‘No.’ 

Remus insists, “Dixi tibi, fugitivus est.” ‘I told you, he is a runaway.’ 

Godric’s master’s anger increases. He grabs Godric’s arm tightly and analyzes his bloody wrists. “Explica te. Dic quid factum est.” ‘Explain yourself. Tell me what happened.’

“Invenit me. Ibamus… domum,” ‘She found me. We were going… home,’ Godric explains. His master’s grip tightens still on his arm. “Doleo me.” ‘I hurt myself.’

“Intentionc? Quare?” ‘Intentionally? Why?’ His master demands. Godric considers this, but cannot find the truth, so says nothing as the discomfort grows. “Voluisti me ut te invenirem.” ‘You wanted me to find you.’

Remus and his maker share a silent conversation. Remus bares his fangs to Aia, much to her terror. “Gravida est!” ‘She is pregnant!” Godric hurriedly shouts. “Herus herus eam redisse volet.” ‘Her master will want her returned.’ 

Godric’s master is not happy with this. He grabs Godric’s neck with all too much force and pulls him even closer. 1, 2- 1, 2, 3- 1- 1- 1- Godric loses his breath. Godric’s voice fails him as his pleas fall largely silent on his lips, “Ignosce quaeso. Quaeso, domine.” ‘Please forgive me. Please, master.’

“Dimitte eum! Hoc facere non potes!” ‘Release him! You cannot do this!’ Aia cries out. She struggles and fails to pry the vampire’s fingers from Godric’s neck. She is shocked at this man’s strength. 

“Gnum mortis,” ‘He deserves death,’ Remus tells his maker. “Credi non potest.” ‘He cannot be trusted.’

“Vide in oculis meis, pueri,” ‘Look in my eyes, boy,’ Godric’s master commands. Godric obeys, though he struggles to see through the tears in his eyes and the spots in his vision. “Nullas soror. Aliquam nec commodo mi. Nescis hanc mulierem.” ‘You have no sister. You have no family. You do not know this woman.’ Memories disappear from Godric’s mind as he speaks. “Sola mihi fides, amor, adoratio tua est.” ‘Your only loyalty, love, and adoration is mine.’ 

Godric is spared only for his master’s ability to erase Godric’s memories that this ever occurred. 

The hand on his throat loosens slightly. “Aeternus,” ‘Forever,’ Godric’s master commands. “Hoc experimenti oblivisceris. Roma non es, ne mancipium quidem.” ‘You will forget this ordeal. You never left Rome, or even the slave quarters.’ His master’s familiar hand becomes gentle on Godric’s neck. Godric gasps for breath and grasps onto his master’s arm for balance. “Numquam me proderes.” ‘You would never betray me.’

“Numquam,” ‘Never,’ Godric echoes with a weak voice. With a hand on the back of his head, Godric’s master pulls Godric into an embrace. Godric rests his hands on his master’s waist and hides his face in his master’s chest. Godric’s head spins. 

“Eius fatum domini sui est eligere,” ‘Her fate is her master’s to choose,’ Godric’s master declares to Remus. 

Godric and Aia are once again torn apart.

-

Jackson, 2009

“Godric never sleeps in,” Eric confides in Sookie. They sit together on the dirty ground several feet before the place Eric put Godric and Tara to ground early yesterday morning, a pack of Tru Blood beside them. “The sun set over an hour ago.” 

Sookie is just as anxious as Eric is, “It will work. It has to.” Despite herself, Sookie holds Eric’s hand. Despite himself, Eric allows this. “You saw them both last night: they were both Swiss cheese. They gotta be tired after all that.” 

“You know this might not work,” Eric warns. “Her death was not at Godric’s hand.”

“It will,” Sookie asserts stubbornly. “This whole ritual seems downright silly. Why does Godric have to be buried with her, anyway?”

“Because that is how vampires are made,” Eric repeats. “Vampire are made through a series of practices passed down through the millennia, not by shoving a corpse into the ground with a vampire that just so happened to give that corpse his blood an hour prior-”

“Shh,” Sookie interrupts, her eyes staring intently at the loose mound of dirt in front of them. “Did you see that?” 

Eric silently watches the dirt. It moves again. Eric quickly digs through the dirt to find Godric’s familiar, filthy hand. Eric pulls him up from his resting place and holds him close, whispering in relief, “Godric.”

Godric looks into Sookie’s eyes over Eric’s shoulder. He holds Eric tightly and whispers endearment in return, “Ást-kærr. Are you harmed?” 

“No,” Eric assures. 

“Tara, is she…” Sookie asks, eyes big and watery and red. 

“All is well,” Godric assures Sookie and Eric. He pulls away from Eric to reach down into the dirt again for Tara’s outstretched hand. He pushes dirt away and pulls her up to the surface. Tara coughs up dirt and dust as she catches breath she no longer needs. 

Sookie impulsively moves to embrace Tara, but Godric stops her with an arm between them. “Give her space,” Godric encourages gently. 

Sookie trusts Godric, so she attempts to control herself. “Tara? Can you hear me? Are you alright? Please be alright,” Sookie cannot stop her tears. 

Tara cannot stop her anger. Tara launches forward with strength she does not know to strangle Sookie. “Release her, please,” Godric commands in a tone Tara cannot deny for reasons she does not understand. Tara’s hands release Sookie of their own accord. Tara is overwhelmed with hatred and runs into the forest. Godric follows after her. 

Eric shakes his head and complains sarcastically, “Yeah, let’s force Godric to make your impulsive sister with anger issues into a vampire. Keep the great ideas coming, Sookie.”  

“Why did you do this to me?” Tara asks Godric, her face covered in blood tears as she falls to her knees on the ground a mile or two away from Alcide’s home. Godric sits beside her and listens. “I-I thought you wanted to help me. You killed Franklin to save me-” Tara’s cries quickly become sobs. “Why am I bleeding?” 

This is not how a baby vampire’s new life should begin. Godric feels his new child’s suffering intimately and struggles to keep his calm demeanor. Godric cannot answer Tara’s questions, he has no answers. This was not Godric’s or Tara’s choice, but here they are, maker and child nonetheless. “My mama’s never gonna speak to me again,” Tara goes on. “I don’t know what to do.”

Godric gave the Magister his true death last night. The King of Mississippi’s death may also be on his name; unless, of course, Korun is still alive, in which he will surely hunt Godric and Eric to the ends of the Earth. Godric’s options will soon be to face the Authority’s punishment or flee to the wild. Tara is not safe. 

Godric can promise his baby vampire nothing short of, “You will not be alone.” Tara looks up at Godric as vulnerable as Godric has ever seen anyone in his two thousand years. “I am your Maker. You are now my responsibility: to nurture, to raise, to protect, to guide, to teach, to love. You will never again be alone, Tara.” 

Tara finds herself crying into Godric’s shoulder as he holds her. Godric is a vampire Tara doesn’t even know, who made her a vampire against her will, who saved her from that monster Franklin, who is covered in dried blood and dirt. Tara doesn’t know Godric yet, but against her better judgment, Tara wants to trust him. 

Godric hears Eric approach in the distance. Tara becomes suddenly tense. “What is he doing here?” Even if this could feasibly be the right time to ask why Tara fears Eric, Godric is afraid to know.

“This is Were territory. It’s not safe to be out here alone,” Eric answers blandly. 

Godric knows this is not the only reason for Eric’s presence. Godric knows from experience he needs to tread carefully, but an unfair part of Godric is unhappy with Eric for allowing this to occur. Godric knows it’s no more than Tara’s raw emotions flooding him. Godric does not look into Eric’s eyes regardless as he speaks softly, “Snälla lämna oss, ást-kærr.” ‘Please leave us, love-dear.’ This is not what Eric wants to hear. “Vi återkommer inom kort.” ‘We will return shortly.’ 

Eric huffs in frustration and drops a couple of bottles of True Blood beside them, “She’ll kill Sookie if she doesn’t feed.” Eric is gone before Tara can respond with a witty, cruel remark. 

The mention of Sookie sends Tara back into her overwhelming sadness. “Sookie,” Tara continues crying into Godric’s shoulder. Godric gives all the time and non-judgment Tara needs to express herself. Eventually, her tears run dry, “I don’t remember the last time I cried like that. What’s wrong with me?”

Godric explains in a quiet voice, “What you experienced in your human life is a sliver of what you now feel.” Tara is clearly unaccustomed to Godric’s vague way of speaking, so Godric adds, “You are hungry.”

Tara can’t deny this. She asks, “That stuff helps?” Godric nods. “I won’t want to kill Sookie anymore?”

Godric assures, “You will not kill Sookie.” 

Tara takes a bottle of Tru Blood, opens the cap, and sips at it hesitantly. She takes it better than most. “I guess it ain’t so bad,” Tara admits. “What do you want from me?” Godric doesn’t seem to understand the question. “Why did you turn me into a… into this?” 

The question hurts. Godric sees himself in Tara, and his own maker in himself. He is reminded so very much of Nora, who will undoubtedly be hurt - as Eric must be - to know Godric has turned another. “When I gave you my blood, my only intention was to heal you so you might continue to live,” Godric answers honestly. “I ask nothing of you. My only intention now is to care for you.” Tara doesn’t think she believes Godric. Everyone wants something. 

“I want to go home,” Tara shares honestly. Godric nods in understanding. 

Godric and Tara sit together in silence until she finishes her drink. They walk back to the house at a very human pace. The quiet usually comforts Godric, but this is not a time he wants to be alone with his thoughts. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Godric finds himself counting as he did as a human that needed breath. Godric finds it to be not calming at all. 

Eric, Sookie, Bill Compton, and Alcide sit at Alcide’s kitchen table in fuming silence. Godric sits beside Eric. Tara finds another bottle of Tru Blood in the refrigerator before taking a seat beside Godric, as far from Sookie and Bill as possible. 

“Russell Edgington is alive,” Eric wastes no time sharing. Godric should have known better than to hope otherwise. “He is angry. I killed his lover, Talbot. We also killed quite literally everyone else, including his court and his wolves,” Eric admits. “I also set his mansion on fire. And he wants Sookie for the same reason everyone seems to want Sookie.” 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

Tara seems to sense Godric’s stress and offers to share her drink. Godric takes a long, deep gulp before returning the glass to her. “Alcide, are there any surviving wolves from this pack?”

“Yeah,” Alcide answers, “but not many. I killed the packmaster, they’ll be lost without a leader. I wouldn’t worry about them.” Godric is grateful, at least, that Alcide will not be targeted. “I’ll take Sookie and Bill home to Bon Temps when we’re done here. I’ll be happy to stick around for a while to keep you safe, Sook.”

“She will be safe,” Bill Compton argues unnecessarily. 

“Clearly,” Alcide retorts sarcastically. Bill Compton cannot argue this.

Godric continues the conversation, “Eric and I may be indisposed for the foreseeable future. If you are in danger, Sookie, we may not be available to come for you in Bon Temps. I’m sorry.” 

Sookie asks worriedly, “Are y’all gonna be alright?” Tara has the same question. 

Godric does not know how to answer this question directly. “There are consequences to our actions, politically. Eric and I will handle it, but attending to you may put you at higher visibility in the vampire community and complicate matters.” Sookie nods in understanding.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Godric asks the table. Silence. Godric and Eric share a long look. There is more to discuss in the car away from unnecessary listening ears. 

“Can I take a shower?” Tara asks Alcide. 

He nods, “‘Course, that door on the left. Help yourself to whatever’s in the closet, it’s yours.” 

“Quickly, please,” Eric urges Tara. Godric is displeased with Eric’s tone, but agrees time is of the essence, so Godric says nothing. Godric rises to wash dirt and blood from his face and hands in the kitchen sink. Everything else will have to wait. 

The small group breaks. Sookie stands beside Godric as he scrubs his hands at the sink and speaks quietly, “I owe you everything. Everything.” Godric remains quiet. “I’m sorry I did what I did. I had to. Tara’s a sister to me, I couldn’t lose her. I know I don’t know a whole lot about you, but if you ever had a sister, you’d understand.” 

Godric does not look at Sookie - cannot bring himself to meet her knowing gaze - but confirms quietly, “I understand.” 

“I told Eric - and I meant it - I can take care of her. She can come home with me, and Bill and I can help her. You’ve done more than enough, you don’t owe us anything. I never meant to put more on your plate. It was just… I didn’t know what else to do. I made Eric do it, it wasn’t his fault, so please don’t blame him,” Sookie shares nervously. 

Godric feels no ill will toward Sookie. She does not know what it means to abandon progeny, that is not her fault. Eric’s only priority last night was surely to care for Godric. Godric is not angry. Godric feels only tired. “To abandon a new vampire is to abandon a newborn in the sewer,” Godric explains directly. “I am Tara’s maker now. I will honor my responsibilities to her.”

Sookie can’t help but ask, “What responsibilities?” It stands to reason Sookie would not know this. Bill Compton’s bloodline seems entirely devoid of the sanctity of the relationship between a maker and their progeny. 

“Baby vampires are extremely vulnerable. Most meet the true death in their first year. Usually much sooner,” Godric continues to scrub his hands with dish soap. “My responsibility to my progeny is the responsibility of a parent to a child, but… much more. I must teach her all I know. Protect her from harm to herself and others. Ensure she feeds and goes to ground and is cared for.”

“When can Tara come home?” Sookie asks, fearful to lose her loved one yet again. 

Godric does not know. “There are consequences to last night’s decisions,” Godric answers vaguely, “that even I cannot yet see the full extent of. But Tara is family now. I will keep her safe always; you have my word.”

Sookie tears up for reasons Godric will not attempt to understand. She tries to lighten the mood, “Being Eric’s maker must have given you more patience than God.”

Godric does not have the energy to discuss Eric right now. “Patience is love,” Godric answers softly.

“I’m real glad you’re okay, Godric,” Sookie smiles sadly. “I’m sure you get this all the time, and maybe it doesn’t mean all that much to you, but I hope you know I’d do just about anything for you.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Eric replies as he approaches them. Sookie still doesn’t care for Eric, especially after last night, but she’s already said her peace, so she gives Eric and Godric their space. 

Godric lowers his head into the empty sink basin to scrub his face and short hair of blood and dirt. Eric asks, “Vad planerar du?” ‘What are you planning?’ It does not entirely drown out Eric’s voice, but it is far more peaceful under the water in the sink than the air.   Godric takes his time washing himself. He has no desire to discuss this right now. “Godric,” Eric encourages, needing something to grasp onto right now. 

Godric soon turns off the faucet and leans forward with his elbows against the sink. Godric decides, “Kungen av Mississippi dödade magistern och drottningen. Vi följde honom till Mississippi för att föra honom till myndigheten för rättvisa, men inte ens vår samlade styrka räckte till för att fängsla honom.” ‘The King of Mississippi killed the Magister and the Queen. We followed him to Mississippi to bring him to the Authority for justice, but even our combined strength was not enough to detain him.’ 

Eric is stunned to silence. Godric adds, “Kungen är Sanguinista. Han avskyr myndigheten. Han dödade magistern och drottningen för sin vision om anarki.” ‘ The King is Sanguinista. He loathes authority. He killed the Magister and the Queen for his vision of anarchy.’ 

“Sanguinista?” Eric asks, hardly believing what he hears. 

“Vi ska gå hem. Vi kommer att kontakta myndigheten. Vi kommer att sitta och låta Nan Flanagan intervjua oss. Och vi kommer att lita på att Nora kommer att skydda oss.” ‘We will go home. We will contact the Authority. We will sit and allow Nan Flanagan to interview us. And we will trust that Nora will protect us.’ Godric grabs a towel to dry himself with.

“Har du tappat förståndet?” ‘Have you lost your mind? Eric finds himself asking his maker. “Lita på Nora? Är detta vårt bästa alternativ?” ‘ Trust Nora? This is our best option?’ Godric will not argue with Eric at this time. “De kommer att ha våra huvuden: jag, du, Pam, Tara.” ‘ They will have our heads: me, you, Pam, Tara.’ Eric is quick to anger, “Vad hände med att försvinna ut i vildmarken tillsammans?” ‘ What happened to disappearing into the wilds together?’ 

“Tara,” Godric answers simply. He looks up at Eric unbudgingly. “Det här är inget sätt att börja ett nytt liv.” ‘This is no way to begin a new life.’ 

“Det var så min började,” ‘It is how mine began,’ Eric reminds Godric, as if he could ever forget. 

“Vi hade inget val, ‘We had no choice,’ Godric corrects. “Världen är annorlunda nu. Tara är annorlunda. Tara behöver lära sig att leva i den här världen, med sin familj. Om vi ​​springer utsätter vi henne för fara.” ‘ The world is different now. Tara is different. Tara needs to learn to live in this world, with her family. If we run, we endanger her.’

“What language even is that, anyway ?” Tara asks rudely as she grabs another Tru Blood from beside the kitchen sink. 

Godric replies before Eric can say something unkind to Tara, “Old Norse.”

Tara makes a face that could be mistaken for disgust, “How old are you?” 

Eric rolls his eyes and suggests, “Let’s go. We have three hours to kill, you two can play Twenty Thousand Questions on the way.” 

“I’m not getting in a car with him to go God-knows-where,” Tara tells Godric firmly. “He’s a psycho. He tortured my cousin-”

“Details, details,” Eric interrupts. “Can’t you let that go? It’s not personal.” Eric steps closer to Tara and she steps behind Godric quickly. 

“Enough,” Godric demands in that same soft tone he always takes. Eric cedes. Tara takes pleasure knowing Godric has Eric on a tight leash, but it frightens her that Godric might have that power over her, too.

“Tara, I apologize for the wrongs Eric has enacted against you and your family. Eric, Tara is family now. Treat her as such,.” Tara and Eric both nod in acceptance. “Tara, the sun will rise in three and a half hours. Tonight, we will go to Eric’s home in Shreveport to rest for the day. We will be safe there.” 

Tara is afraid to argue with Godric. “When can I go home?” 

Godric wants to give her what she wants, but he must keep her safe first and foremost. “As soon as it is safe to return for a visit. I promise you this. Right now, Russell Edgington could be anywhere. You belong with us, where we can protect you.” 

“You mean I have to live with you forever? At that vampire bar?” Tara asks, mourning the life she once had. 

“For now,” Godric redirects softly. He carefully doesn’t mention that Tara is likely to kill her entire family if left unattended with them. This is not the time. 

Tara is still not convinced. “Eric will drive,” Godric offers as one final consolation. 

“Okay,” Tara finally accepts, taking a leap of faith with the kind vampire. “For now.”

“Fun family bonding roadtrip,” Eric teases. “Dibs on the aux cord.” 

In the car, Eric chooses to play music that Tara can only describe as echoed tribal humming. “You must be fun at parties,” Tara complains. 

“How astute of you,” Eric complains back. Godric lies back in his seat and closes his eyes, exhausted in every way a person can be. “It’s really quite beautiful if you know Old Norse.”

“So you’re like Vikings or something? From about a million years ago?” Tara asks bluntly. Godric misses Nora dreadfully. 

“I am Viking,” Eric answers proudly. “From a thousand years ago.” 

Tara has no qualms disturbing Godric’s rest, “What are you, Godric?” 

Godric answers simply, “I am over twice Eric’s age.”

“Wow,” Tara gawks. “Where are you from?” 

“That’s a rude question, Tara,” Eric chastises. Godric is amazed at how much two people who have no interest in one another can have so much to say to one another. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that rude? Is it rude to ask where Godric is from? I didn’t realize that’s where we’re drawing the line: asking where people are from, not turning people into monsters without their consent,” Tara snaps. 

Godric is sure he would have a headache if it were possible. “I didn’t realize passing on immortality from generations of greatness was rude,” Eric retorts. “I’ll let Sookie know that she and I should have let you die a pathetic death at the hands of a psycho werebitch on the dirty floor of-”

“Eric,” Godric interrupts without opening his eyes.. They are all silent for a precious few moments. “Min Eric, du har sådan vänlighet i ditt hjärta. Vänligen visa den för den lilla. För mig.” ‘My Eric, you have such kindness in your heart. Please show it to the little one. For me.’ 

“It ain’t fair you get to talk about me behind my back right in front of me in some ancient language I’ll never understand,” Tara bickers. 

“Ást-karr,” Godric asks just once more in anticipation of Eric’s cruel retort. Godric does not need to command Eric to do as he wishes. He needs only ask and Eric has no choice, not because of his nature as Godric’s progeny, but because Eric loves Godric. 

Eric softens - not for Tara, who Eric perceives as bratty, mean, and ungrateful in all the ways Nora is - but for Godric. “Godric was only asking that I play nice. You don’t know Godric very well yet, but he is ten times the vampire you or I will ever be. Godric would never say cruel things about you - or anyone. In any language. It’s not his way.”

“Yeah, that’s a lot like what Sookie said about Bill, and he would have killed her last night if I didn’t stop him.” Tara has too much anger she doesn’t know what to do with. She opens another Tru Blood and chugs it. Godric sees so much of Eric in her. 

“Alcoholic?” Eric asks with more curiosity than cruelty. 

“Big-time,” Tara answers. Finally, something akin to commaraderie. Godric relaxes into the passenger seat. “Did they have alcoholics a thousand years ago?” 

“So long has there been alcohol, there have been alcoholics,” Eric confirms. 

Tara is suspiciously quiet. Eric searches for her in the rear view mirror. “Did you know him? Franklin?” 

Eric has no idea what she’s talking about. Godric opens his eyes and turns to meet her deer-like gaze. “I met him once before, yes,” Godric answers carefully. “I banished him from Dallas in the 90’s. I should have done more, had I known.” 

“What are you, the King of Dallas?” Tara asks jokingly. 

“No,” Godric answers simply, not caring to speak on his recent disgrace. 

Eric will not allow Godric to feel bad about himself, not now. “He turned it down so many times, they stopped asking.”

“Seriously?” Tara asks, impressed. Godric closes his eyes again and crosses his arms, ready to nap if his body allows. “Why wouldn’t you want to be a King? Wait, who’s ‘they’?” 

Godric drifts off to sleep sometime during Eric’s long-winded explanation of the Authority, the AVL, and vampire law. The topic makes Godric sick to his stomach, but Eric’s voice is the most soothing sound Godric knows, that Godric has ever known. Godric is convinced it’s Eric’s voice that keeps the nightmarish memories away tonight.

“Hjartað mitt,” ‘My heart,’ Eric rouses tenderly with a warm hand on Godric’s chest. The car is parked in the Fangtasia car lot.

Godric opens his groggy eyes and nods in vague recognition. Eric is so very beautiful. “Tack,” ‘Thank you,’ Godric murmurs in response. He climbs out of the car and escorts Tara in with Eric. 

“Oh, Eric, thank God,” Pam is in Eric’s arms before he even steps into the bar. “Thank God, I was scared to death for you. What the fuck happened? The Magister’s missing, everyone in Dallas thinks you and Godric fuckin’ did it. What the fuck is she doin’ here?” 

Tara does not need any more excitement tonight. Godric locks the door behind them and encourages Tara to follow him down to the back rooms. Tara gladly follows Godric’s calm spirit away from Eric and Pam’s chaos. Godric shows Tara to a spare coffin in Eric’s guest room. “It’s cleaner than the ground, at least. There are no windows, this building is light-tight, but please try to sleep through the day. Rest is important. I will be next door. I will come for you when night returns.” 

Godric feels anxious to part from his youngest so very soon. Eric and Godric shared a resting place for centuries before ever parting for the first time. Eric and Godric still share a coffin after a millennia together. Godric explains affectionately, “My blood is part of you now. I am with you always. If you need me, I will know, and I will be there for you.”

Tara shares Godric’s anxieties, “What’s gonna happen? The vampire authority - are they gonna take you away?” Tara holds Godric’s hand, afraid to be apart from him for reasons she doesn’t understand. Tara doesn’t even know him. 

Godric promises simply, “Nobody will take me from you.” Tara nods and lets Godric go.

Godric showers quickly and changes into another set of borrowed clothes. He listens to Eric and Pam argue as he crawls into Eric’s coffin for the day. Godric waits patiently for Eric to join him. Godric finds himself impressed with the amount of arguing Eric can do in a day. Eric and Pamela are professionals. 

Eric finally enters the room with a sigh of annoyance, smelling of soap. “What are you doing here?” Eric asks with an irresistible smile when he notices Godric in his coffin. “You don’t want to rest with Tara?” 

Eric crawls in beside Godric and pulls him into his arms. Godric cannot stop the blood tears that come no sooner than the moment his face is pressed against Eric’s bare chest. Eric doesn’t speak: words are not necessary. Godric needs Eric to hold him, and Eric is happy to oblige. Eric closes the lid of their coffin, sealing Godric and himself away from the world, if just for a short time. 

Chapter Text

11

-

London, 1665

“Hjartað mitt?” Eric calls from the front door. The sound of his voice alone brings peace to Godric’s heart. Godric sits in a windowsill toward the back of the abandoned property, enjoying the night air, the quiet, and the bright stars of the countryside with an English book called Hamlet and an English dictionary. The dictionary is proving minimally helpful. 

“Här, Eric,” Godric replies in Old Norse mindlessly before catching his mistake. “Here, here,” he corrects himself as he puts away his books. With his head out of the dusty old books, Godric smells disease in the air. He meets Eric downstairs and finds a young, sickly woman in his arms. Godric searches Eric’s face for an explanation. 

Eric realizes only now, looking into Godric’s soft eyes, just how impulsive this was. Eric finds himself introducing the young woman casually, “Godric, this is Nora Gainsborough. Nora, this is Godric.” Godric looks over the dying woman curiously. She is too tired now to do much more than breathe against Eric’s broad chest.“Nora has shown herself to be courageous in the face of death. I have offered her the gift of immortality.”

Godric knows Eric’s impulsive nature well, but never has he requested this. Godric encourages, “Ta med henne till sängen. Hon behöver vila.” ‘Bring her to the bed. She needs rest.’

“What language is that?” Nora asks deliriously as Eric lies her weak body on a guest bed. Godric hears death in her heartbeat and her small voice. “Does he speak English?” 

“Poorly,” Godric answers with a soft, apologetic smile. “Eric learns quick.” Nora could not place his accent for the life of her. 

“Quickly,” Eric corrects Godric. Eric teases, “You have to talk to people to learn their language, Godric.”

“Jag föredrar ditt företag,” ‘I prefer your company,’ Godric asserts. Godric does not want to waste time talking with noblemen, kings, or military officers, he wants only Eric. Godric has met many thousands of people in his time, supernatural and human alike. Eric is exactly Godric’s preference; he has no desire for further company. Godric does not want another progeny, he wants only Eric.

Despite his own feelings, Godric trusts Eric’s intuition. Godric sits beside Nora on the bed and looks down at her with the most earnest eyes Nora thinks she’s ever seen. “Why, Nora?” Godric asks, hoping Nora will understand. 

She does. “I wish to live fully or die my own death. My life belonged to… a powerful man. My home, my body, my time. No more.” Nora begins to cough with more strength than Godric previously imagined her lungs could summon. Godric sees the courage Eric saw in the young human.

“Vad har du sagt till henne?” ‘What have you told her?’ Godric asks Eric, his eyes firmly on Nora. 

“Allt jag behövde veta för århundraden sedan,” ‘Everything I needed to know centuries ago,’ Eric assures Godric. 

“Shakespeare?” Nora asks randomly. Godric finds her eyes straying off toward the books Godric left by the open windowsill.

“To learn,” Godric explains. Nora and Godric seem to understand each other easily without much intervention from Eric. Eric sees much of Godric in Nora, or he would not have brought Nora here. 

“You’re a poet?” Nora would laugh if she could: certainly not at Godric, but at the idea of learning English from Shakespeare, who speaks a language all his own. As it is, she smiles a phantom smile with closed eyes and asks, “Why don’t you teach him, Mr. Northman?” 

“I have no patience for teaching,” Eric admits. It is the exact reason Eric is asking Godric to make Nora a vampire rather than doing it himself. 

“Then I suppose I will teach you, Godric,” Nora begins to say before she coughs and chokes and struggles for breath. Godric knows Nora’s offer is not an offer of service, but an offer of friendship. Nora would allow her last words to be an offer to do for others what is not required, or even asked of her. Nora is compassionate and fearless. 

“Snälla, Godric. Jag känner att det här är rätt,” ‘Please, Godric. I feel this is right.’ Eric urges Godric, sensing just as Godric does that time is running out. Nora’s frail body will soon go into shock. 

Godric trusts Eric. Godric would kill for Eric, die for Eric, and as he proves tonight, pass on vampirism for Eric. Godric bites at his wrist and carefully helps Nora, who is now only half conscious, to drink his blood. When Godric drinks her blood in exchange, he tastes only her disease, but forces himself to continue. When Nora returns from death, she learns to be a vampire and Godric learns politics, society, poetry, and a selfless love he has never otherwise known. 

-

Shreveport, 2009

Godric rises two hours before the sun sets. He sneaks out of Eric’s loving arms to silently escape to the basement for a discreet phone call on Eric’s phone.

“Vad fan gjorde du?” ‘What the hell did you do?’ Despite the circumstances, Godric cannot resist the joy in his chest to hear Nora’s voice. 

“Du borde vila, lilla,” ‘ You should be resting, little one,’ Godric cannot hide his fondness for Nora from his tone. 

Nora silences when she realizes she is not speaking with Eric. She must consider hanging up, considering the current state of her relationship with her maker. “Det gjorde du inte,” ‘You didn’t,’ Nora’s tone softens. “Säg att du inte gjorde det.” ‘Tell me you didn’t do it.’ Godric is silent. He will not lie to Nora. 

“De säger att du har blivit galen.” ‘They say you’ve gone mad.’ Godric cannot deny this, either. “Vill du möta den sanna döden?” ‘Do you want to meet the true death?’ 

“Inga,” ‘No,’ Godric answers simply. “Jag kan inte. Jag behövs.” ‘I cannot. I am needed.’

“Vad ska det betyda?” ‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Nora asks with fear in her tone. 

Godric does not know what to say without hurting Nora. He finds his eyes flooding with blood, and he knows it is not the bleeds. “Jag har saknat dig,” ‘I have missed you,’ Godric whispers with a broken heart, “med allt jag är.” ‘with all that I am.’ 

“Är han säker?” ‘Is he safe?’ Nora asks, worried for Eric, who she has always loved unconditionally. 

“Ja,” ‘Yes,’ Godric answers simply. “Jag skulle aldrig tillåta skada att komma till honom. Eller du.” ‘I would never allow harm to come to him. Or you.’ 

“Springer du igen?” ‘ Are you running again?’ Nora is terrified to hear Godric’s answer. 

“Detta är min fråga till dig,” ‘This is my question to you,’ Godric murmurs. 

Nora is quiet for several long moments. “Vad är din plan?” ‘ What is your plan?’ 

Nora has no choice but to admit Godric’s plan will work - and adopt it, regardless of her own feelings. This will help Nora, too. Of course it will. Godric loves her and thinks of her always, even now that he is faced with the very distinct possibility of torture and true death by the Authority this very night. Nora feels only angry. 

Godric is so consumed in his conversation with Nora, he doesn’t notice Tara sitting at the top of the stairs listening. “Vara försiktig, ástin min,” ‘Be careful, my love,’ Godric cannot resist from bidding. “Jag älskar dig alltid. Jag är med dig alltid. Ek ann þér.” ‘I love you always. I am with you always. I love you.’ Nora is silent. “Vänligen vet detta i ditt hjärta.” ‘ Please know this in your heart.’ Blood tears fall down Godric’s cheeks. He wipes them away before they can reach the white, long sleeved shirt Godric has borrowed from Eric.

Nora and Godric sit together in silence over the phone for all too long. They both hurt, and they are helpless to change this. “När detta är över, be honom ringa mig..” ‘When this is over, have him call me.’ The phone disconnects with a click. Godric closes his eyes to keep more tears from falling. 

Tara walks down the rest of the stairs to sit beside Godric on a large box. She rests her arm around Godric’s shoulders and sits in silence with him. Godric feels the guilt of the past century reinvigorated.

“What’s gonna happen tonight?” Tara asks again, clearly worried. 

Godric shakes his head calmly and explains, “Any minute now, a representative from the Authority will come. They will search the property and find nothing. They will question Eric and I. We will remain here together while we await a decision. They will give us the ruling, and it will be over.” He adds, “Eric and I will handle this. All I ask is that you show our guests cooperation and let Eric and I handle this. The situation is delicate and complicated.”

Tara nods in agreement. She’s trusted Godric so far, and so far, he’s done nothing to hurt her. He makes Eric show her kindness, makes her feel better, and tells her the truth. One night isn’t exactly the basis for an entire relationship, but plenty of people have turned on Tara in one night. “Who was on the phone?”

Godric answers cryptically, as he often does, “Someone I care very much for.” He promises, “I will tell you more someday.” Tara understands. There’s plenty she hopes she never has to talk about, as if that can make the pain go away. “Come, we should feed,” Godric offers. Tara agrees easily. 

Godric and Tara drink Tru Blood together at the bar until the raid arrives. Eric and Pam check the building several times over to ensure there are no illegal items. 

The raid is unnerving, to say the least, which is the entire purpose of the raid. “You two are drawing quite a bit of attention to yourselves,” Nan comments. “Notice how I’ve been here twice in the last week? That’s a bad thing. That’s a very bad thing. You just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?” 

Eric and Godric stand before Nan quietly, enduring her irritation, “The VRA is two states away from ratification. I should be kissing ass in Oregon, not cleaning up after you two in fucking Louisiana.” 

Eric offers sarcastically, “My deepest apologies, Miss Flanagan.” Godric hides his frustrations for Eric. 

“Officers, silver them,” Nan orders. Godric remains still and calm as an officer presses an injecting machine to his bare neck. He feels silver enter his veins. His flesh burns in visible smoke, but Godric does not react outwardly. Eric groans in pain when silver is injected into his veins. 

Tara realizes too late what these people are doing to Godric. “Hey, don’t hurt him! You can’t do that-”

“Tara,” Pam hisses with a hand on her arm to keep her from catching an assault charge.

Godric looks over his shoulder past the officers to look into Tara’s eyes, nods,  and assures without even a strain of pain in his voice, “All is well.” Tara trusts him.  

“Enough with the melodramatics,” Nan demands. “I need your full attention. If this one needs to leave the room, by all means.” 

Godric nods and offers to Tara, “Go.” Tara has endured enough, there is no purpose for her to witness more trauma. Tara shakes her head and plants her feet firmly. Godric didn’t make Tara a vampire on purpose, that was all Sookie; regardless, Godric has taken Tara in and cared for her in ways her own mother never could. Godric has not asked Tara for anything, there is nothing for him to gain from any of this. Godric has stayed by Tara’s side selflessly through everything. Tara won’t leave him when things get tough. 

The officers bring Eric and Godric to two chairs in the middle of the room before a video camera and bind their hands with silver handcuffs. Godric sits calmly while Eric’s wrists writhe in search of relief from the burning. Godric resists the endless urge to protect Eric; they have taken careful precautions over the years to hide their bond from the public eye, this is no reason to waste this political advantage now. 

An officer whispers in Nan’s ear. “It’s clean,” she informs the room of those present and the Authority members on the other end of the camera. “In fact, it’s the cleanest bar - vampire or human - I’ve seen. It’s been wiped.”

“Jesus Christ, have you seen the kitchen?” Pam jokes in poor taste. “Godric has fuckin’ OCD, he hasn’t stopped cleaning since he got here. ”

“Members of the Authority, can you hear me? Excellent. You two, introduce yourselves to the camera,” Nan organizes efficiently. 

“Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area 5 in Louisiana,” Eric states. 

“Godric. Former Sheriff of Area 9 in Dallas,” Godric cooperates. Nora is surely watching. This is not how Godric wants her to see him. 

“We’ll begin by taking your statement,” Nan states as she takes her seat beside the camera. “Who would like to go first?” 

Eric cedes to Godric. Godric keeps strict control of his expressions and emotions for Eric, Nora, and Tara who cannot help but to feel as he does, and also for the Authority, who will be analyzing his every move. There is no room for error. “The man you are looking for is called Russell Edgington. In my time, he was known as Korun. Russell Edgington, was directly involved in the fall of the Old Authority nearly two thousand years ago. He intends to see the fall of the New Authority imminently.”

Nan presses her fingertips to a small device in her ear as she listens intently to the Authority feed her information. “Go on.”

“I have tracked this anarchist’s patterns through the ages. Rome, Constantinople, Tenochtitlan, Paris, Moscow. Political unrest, wolves enhanced with vampire blood, terrorism. Mr. Northman and I nearly apprehended him in Augsburg in 1945,” Godric  shares more truth than anyone, even Eric, has ever suspected of him. Godric is famously secretive.

“Russell Edgington intercepted the Magister and Queen Sophie-Anne on their way here to meet with Mr. Northman. We tracked him to Mississippi, but he escaped us. Russell Edgington is a very old, very powerful vampire. Older than Mr. Northman and I combined.“

Eric adds, “In times of political conflict, Russell Edgington inserts himself into human affairs.” 

“To what end?” Nan asks, invested as the rest of the Authority must be. 

“To overthrow the Authority once more. To subjugate humanity. To destroy all law: human and vampire,” Godric answers with confidence. “Russell Edgington opposes the Great Revelation.”

“The Authority will not-”

“‘Fuck the Authority!’” Eric shocks the room to silence, “Russell Edgington’s words. Verbatim.” 

Nan listens intently to her ear piece again. “These are treasonous allegations. Why didn’t you report this?” 

Eric speaks up before Godric can, “I should have. But the New Authority as we know it has only existed for a few hundred years. My history with Russell Edgington goes back a thousand.” Godric resists from stopping Eric from oversharing, such a communication would reveal more than Nan Flanagan and the Authority need to know. “My human family was massacred. All of them, by wolves. I managed to kill one, and I watched him turn into a man at the edge of my sword. These wolves are the same thing. Sweden, Germany, here.”

Eric looks directly into the camera and speaks directly to Nora, “With all due respect, I did not report Russell Edgington’s crimes because I want him to die at my own hands. I have waited a thousand years for this.” 

Nan Flanagan and Godric share intense eye contact. He hears Authority members arguing in Nan’s earpiece. “Yes,” Nan responds to the tiny machine, “yes, I understand. I’m flying immediately to Portland. Thank you.” 

The officers begin packing up the cameras. Eric asks, “Is that it?”

“The authority will review your statement against the frankly strong possibility that I’ve lost an entire night’s worth of air time promoting the VRA to listen to the insane ramblings of two madmen,” Nan answers. Eric looks to Godric for some reaction to Nan’s shocking claim - there is none. Godric simply watches Nan speak without emotion. “But, some do believe in a fair hearing.” Nora, Eric is sure. “Americans,” Nan rolls her eyes before standing to take her leave. The officers remove Eric and Godric’s restraints. 

“Miss Flanagan,” Eric stands to follow her out the door, “Russell Edgington is a threat to our very existence.”

“Russell Edgington is a king, one who just donated half a million dollars to the same vampire league you say he’s trying to destroy. Weird, huh?” Nan toys. 

“Money is alone as effective a tool in war as weapons, soldiers, and strategy,” Godric informs Nan, still sitting where he was previously restrained. 

If she cared, Nan would admit Godric has a point. As it is, she informs, “Everyone here is on lockdown until the Authority issues the ruling. Officer Larson, whatever you typically administer, double it for this one.” Not that any of this could stop Godric and Eric if they choose at any time to escape. 

Nan Flanagan is gone just as quickly as she arrived. The officers remain posted at the exits. Tara hurries to Godric’s side to check on him, “Are you okay? What was that?” Tara inspects the silver wound on his neck. The wound has already healed, but the veins in his neck are still burning. 

Godric nods and gives Tara the same tired smile Eric’s known for a millennia. He rests his hand gently on hers where her fingers inspect Godric’s neck and promises confidently, “I am well. All is well.” 

“How can you say that? How can you be so calm?” Tara asks in amazement. 

“Godric is always calm. You get used to it,” Eric informs Tara, clearly upset with Godric. He leaves the room with Pam to discuss a contingency plan. 

“Am I crazy, or is this going really bad? Like, really, really bad?” Tara tries to shake Godric out of his delusion that everything is okay when it’s so clearly not. Godric does not respond. There is little he can say in front of the guards’ listening ears. Tara seems to understand. She sighs and suggests kindly, “Come on Old Man, let’s get you a drink.” Godric’s smile now reaches his eyes. 

Godric and Tara spend the rest of the night at the bar, communicating silently by writing in a journal together, only interrupted by the occasional officer with another injection for Godric. Godric asks Tara about her life, her thoughts, and her dreams. Tara asks any random question that pops into her head. As impossible as it is, Tara eventually forgets about the vampire gangsters watching them. All things considered, the night is not too bad. Maybe Tara’s expectations for a bad night have recently been drastically lowered. Maybe Godric is… actually just a really good person, and exactly who Tara needs in her life. 

Is Eric a bad person because his family was killed? 

Godric opens a new bottle of Tru Blood while he reads Tara’s next question. They’ve been here for many hours, and the sun will soon rise. The journal is nearly full. Still, Godric considers the question carefully. Godric answers all of Tara’s questions with as much honestly as he can give in precise cursive Nora taught him long ago. 

Eric and I have been together for a thousand years. I am his maker. I taught him this way of being a vampire. Eric is my responsibility.

Tara gives Godric that look he has quickly come to know as Tara’s request for additional information. Godric considers the most succinct way to explain himself and writes more. 

My own maker did not treat me well. He taught me that humans are only sustenance. I taught Eric all I knew. I regret very deeply that I did not know better. Change does not come easily to Eric, but he is trying. 

Everyone has a past, right? Tara scribbles out more:

What did your maker do to you?

Godric knows Tara does not mean any harm. She is a baby vampire in a strange place with strange people she does not know or trust. She is frightened and wants to better understand this person who has become a very important person to her overnight. Godric says what he can:

Horrors beyond comprehension. I felt only anger for the world for many years. 

Godric knows Tara’s next question before she asks it, so he explains:

Eric healed me of the anger my maker gave me.

Tara thinks she’s starting to understand why Godric and Eric seem… stuck together. Before Tara can ask more, Godric informs her, “The sun will soon rise. It is time to go to ground.”

“Why do you call it that? If we’re just going… to coffin?” Tara asks curiously. 

Godric smiles softly and stands from the bar stool, “Why do you call it ‘going to bed’ when you are going to coffin?” 

“Touché,” Tara accepts as she stands with Godric.

A guard stops Godric before he can walk Tara to her room. Tara’s face hardens, but Godric encourages, “Go. I will be with you shortly.” Tara gives the guard a middle finger before leaving for her room. 

Without any further warning, the guard places a hand on Godric’s shoulder and once more injects silver into his neck. Godric can only assume based on the extensive pain that this injection in a larger dose designed to subdue Godric throughout the day. The only alternative is the guard feeling particularly violent toward Godric, and Godric cannot entertain that notion for his own sanity. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Finally the guard releases him. Godric immediately finds his balance lacking. He leans against the bar for a few long moments while he steadies himself. 

Godric finally regains his head and walks slowly to the guest room with the journal in hand. “Why do they have to do that? That guy is an asshole.” Tara vents in irritation. “Are you okay?”

Godric speaks calmly and confidently to Tara, “It is necessary to them. I understand.” He explains, “I am stronger by over a thousand years to even the next oldest vampire here, who is Eric. It does not hurt me.” 

“It sure hurts Eric,” Tara notes. “You can’t fool me, I know it hurts you, too. I’m not stupid.” 

“Certainly not,” Godric agrees honestly, he thinks Tara is very intelligent. “Thank you for thinking of me. This will be over soon.” 

“What happens when this is over?” Tara asks as she climbs into her coffin. 

Godric is happy to speak of this, “When this is over, I will teach you what you are. I will teach you to run faster than a car, how to mimic sounds, and perhaps Eric will teach you to fly.”

“You can fly,” Tara asks in disbelief. 

“Eric can, beautifully,” Godric shares, pride in his tone. 

“Why can’t you fly?” Tara asks curiously.

Godric does not have the answer Tara wants, “Eric is gifted in many ways I am not, as I am sure you will be very soon. Goodnight, Tara.” 

“You should talk nicer about yourself,” Tara suggests. “Might help.” 

Godric turns the lights off for Tara. “Thank you, Tara,” Godric shares honestly. “I’m very grateful to know you.” 

Tara doesn’t think anyone’s ever said that to her. “Me too,” she replies automatically, honestly. Godric closes the door, grabs more Tru Blood, and searches for Eric. They will all need their strength for what is to come. 

Eric sits at the desk in his office writing fiercely. Godric lets himself into Eric’s office. Eric ignores him. Godric closes the door behind him and leans against it for a few long moments, watching Eric fondly. Eric is angry, Godric knows. Godric approaches Eric slowly, a supportive hand on Eric’s broad, wooden desk. Godric sets the journal down before Eric, turns to a blank page, and offers it to him. Eric knows what it means.

Eric finishes his busywork and sets it aside. Without looking at Godric, Eric writes in hard letters:

What did Korun do to you?

Godric pulls a chair up beside Eric and sits. Godric knows precisely what Eric asks of him. Godric does not respond. 

How could you not tell me? You knew it was him in Augsburg. You knew him. 

Eric tears the page slightly on the last word. He drops the pen onto the desk and turns his face from Godric. Godric moves to affectionately touch Eric’s arm, but Eric pulls away from Godric’s touch. This is far worse than any pain that can be inflicted upon Godric with silver. Godric stubbornly resists the tears in his eyes. 

Jag vill inte skada dig mer.

’I do not wish to hurt you more.’

Eric stands to pace the room in some small attempt to express his feelings. Godric is too weakened by the silver inside him to bring himself to stand again. Godric knows it is too late to go on keeping secrets from Eric. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 

I was human. Korun was a guest in my master’s home. My master left for the war. 

Godric pauses, struggling to put words to this. Godric has never spoken of this before, any of it. He feels sick in a way even the bleeds and silver cannot induce. 

Korun used me to betray my master. He controlled my mind, abused my body, left me for dead. My master made me a vampire upon his return. 

I’m sorry, my Eric.

Eric grabs the journal to read Godric’s words. Godric knows Eric is furious, but something softens in him for Godric when he reads the truth. Godric knows it cannot be easy for Eric to imagine Godric so… weak. It is now Godric’s turn to avoid Eric’s eyes. Godric wipes blood tears away quickly. Godric cannot understand why this all still hurts so much after two thousand years. Godric cannot understand why the pain will not die. 

Eric takes his seat beside Godric again, controlling his emotions. He holds Godric’s hand innocently. Godric presses a silent, lingering kiss to the back of Eric’s hand. Eric writes:

You tracked him to the taiga where you found me.

Godric’s tears stain the page red. Godric answers:

No. Destroying Korun is your vengeance, not mine. I knew you and your men chased wolves, that is all. 

Eric believes Godric, of course. Godric has no reason to lie. Godric has never lied to Eric, only ever kept secrets to protect him from his own burdens. Eric presses a kiss to Godric’s temple. “Thank you,” Eric whispers against Godric’s skin under his breath.

When I find this monster and show him the True Death, it will be for my family: my father, my mother, my sister, and you - you who is everything to me.

Godric does not deserve Eric, this he has always known without doubt. Eric holds Godric through the night, keeping watch over their resting progeny to ensure they are safe from the officers. They share the bleeds and many silent kisses through the day. It is miserable, but they are together, so it’s not all bad. 

When Nan Flanagan returns, Godric and Eric have cleaned themselves up for the most part. “You two look like shit,” she comments cruelly. 

“Well, I feel fantastic,” Eric mutters, his voice husky from exhaustion. 

Nan wastes no time. “The ruling is as follows: the Authority disavows any and all knowledge of our interview, your statement, or indeed this ruling itself. None of this ever happened.” 

Godric knew this would be the ruling, of course, but even he feels relief. This is as good an outcome as they could have asked for. Godric resists a smile. 

Eric is far less pleased with the ruling. “What?” Eric thinks he might be dreaming. 

“Missing royals, dead Magisters, it’s political tar nobody wants to touch. Not with the VRA this close to ratification,” Nan explains. She turns to leave as quickly as she arrived. 

“Russell Edgington will not stop killing,” Eric reminds Nan, as though she has forgotten or cares. Eric is afraid. “What if the human public learns of it?”

“That’s why you’re going to take care of it. Quietly. Discreetly. And most important of all, completely off the books. You want revenge? It’s yours.” Nan is in a far better mood today than she was last night.

Godric speaks up before Eric can test her patience, “Thank you, Miss Flanagan. We hope for the opportunity to demonstrate our gratitude to the Authority soon.”

“What resources are you going to give me?” Eric asks expectantly. 

“Eric,” Godric warns. 

“None,” Nan answers. “We’re not getting near it.” 

“How do you expect me to kill him? He’s three times my age and commands an army,” Eric complains. 

Nan pauses her exit, turns to Eric, and approaches him, “Listen, you whiny little bitch.” Godric stands between Nan and Eric protectively before anyone realizes he’s moved. The guards raise their weapons to him. Godric should not be able to move so swiftly with the amount of silver in his body. 

Godric’s quiet tone commands the room, “Thank you for your grace, Miss Flanagan. We apologize truly for the inconveniences we’ve recently caused you, and for Mr. Northman’s behavior. We are quite tired. Please forgive his insolence.” Eric is furious, but remains obediently quiet. 

“Bring me Russell Edgington’s fangs, or I will have yours,” Nan threatens one final time before taking her leave. The guards filter out.

Godric leans against a tall table for stability as soon as the enemy departs. Tara is the first to speak, “They’re letting you go?” Godric nods in confirmation. Tara hugs him tightly in joy, “Oh my God, they’re letting you go. I can’t believe it.” 

Godric returns the embrace and confirms, “All is well.” 

“All is well until Russell Edgington comes to kill us all,” Eric retorts. “Remember him?” 

“Eric and I must rest,” Godric begins giving instructions. 

“I’m not taking a fucking nap,” Eric bickers. 

Godric ignores him, “Pam, please open the bar at the regularly scheduled time. Tara, you know what Russell Edgington looks like, yes?”

Tara nods confidently, “Middle aged, ugly teeth, pale as hell? I never forget a face.”

“Very good,” Godric compliments. “Please assist Pam in running the bar tonight. Whatever she needs help with, but keep your eye out for him. If you see him, call for me immediately. Do you remember how I taught you last night?” Tara nods and demonstrates now. “Yes, I feel it. Very good.”

Pam reminds Godric, “Uh, Grandpa? Did you not hear Nan? ‘Quietly. Discreetly. Off camera.’” 

“If Russell Edgington wants attention, there are far more public places than this,” Godric explains. “This is where we are all safest. Please do not hesitate to wake us if we are needed.” 

After some arguing in Old Norse, Godric manages to convince Eric to rest. Eric is no good to any of them without his rest, and Godric is losing energy by the minute. Godric doesn’t have time to slip into another nightmare before Tara wakes him. “Godric,” Tara rouses with a hand on his shoulder. She’s afraid to try and wake Eric, and with good reason. Godric carefully untangles himself from Eric, who is too exhausted to do much more than grip Godric more tightly. 

Godric can hardly believe his eyes: Russell Edgington committing terrorism on live broadcast for the whole world to see. “You called it,” Pamela  tells Godric. Godric wonders if she can see the fear in his eyes. Eric must have managed to wake from his deep slumber; he stands beside Godric now as they all stare at the television screen. Eric’s hand subtly crosses Godric’s lower back. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 

“Herregud,” ‘ My God ,’ Eric exclaims quietly, his eyes glued to the screen as everyone else in the world. Godric feels suddenly… vulnerable. As though a secret Godric has held close to his heart for many centuries is suddenly exposed to the world. Godric does not need air, but he could not take a breath if he wanted. He has no control of his lungs or heart or mind, all of which feels paralyzed. 1, 2- 1, 2 3- 1, 2-

The landline rings. The room is silent. It seems hysterical to answer, but Pamela does, “Fangtasia.” She listens in silence. She is shocked. She looks to Godric with wide eyes, “It’s… It’s him. For you- He wants to talk. To you.” 1. 1. 1.

Eric takes the phone from Pam. “Northman,” Eric identifies himself.

“Now, why am I talking to you? You’re a dead man, Northman, you know that. You’re nothing. It’s that little maker of yours I’d like to speak with. I have plans for him,” Russell taunts. “Maybe I will let you live a short while, though. Just long enough to get a taste of what I have in store for him for the next millennia. I have to say, it will be delicious.”

“You killed my family, I killed yours. We’re even now,” Eric bargains with a madman. 

Russell laughs hysterically. Godric recognizes intimately the snort in his laughter, “Keep digging that hole, boy. You’re making too much fun out of this.” 

Eric is quick on his feet as always. “What if I had something to offer you? Something far more valuable than what you seek?”

Chapter Text

12

-

Shreveport, 1995

Godric sits comfortably high in a tree, his back resting against its hard trunk. He watches the stars through dark leaves as he listens to the happenings inside the nearby video store. It’s generally quiet, despite its rowdy owners. Eric and Pamela have everything they need here. They are safe under the protection of the Authority. Godric has no reason to sit silently outside their home, but he does every night as he’s done since the night they arrived in 1986.

Up until recently, Eric spent many years in France, where Godric could not personally watch over him. Eric’s relocation to Shreveport, Louisiana is a selfish luxury Godric does not take for granted. Perhaps it is destiny or Nora that brings Eric so close to Godric once more. Perhaps it’s only coincidence. At any rate, Godric’s stubborn belief that Eric and Nora are better off without Godric remains unchanged. Eric does not need Godric. Eric needs independence, and Pamela. 

It is Godric that needs Eric, or he would not be here listening to Eric and Pamela bicker about pornography. Godric is weak, and his existence returned to the desolation it once was before Eric the moment they parted nearly a century ago. Godric feels longing for Eric and Nora, and little more. The war was a relatively effective distraction, but even war has since turned cold, and Godric’s responsibilities to the Authority now tie him to Dallas anyway. Even Godric’s hunger has slowly faded to nothingness. Godric knows this nothingness well, and he knows only one way to quell it.

This is as close as Godric allows himself to come to Eric. The nothingness persists, but Godric finds himself soothed, if nothing else, by the distant sound of Eric’s voice.

Godric counts the constellations Eric first pointed out to him centuries ago. Eric and Pam become silent once more. When Godric looks down from the stars, Pamela is standing on the ground beneath Godric looking up at him. “Godric? The fuck are you doin’ up there?” Godric finds himself speechlessly staring down at Eric’s progeny.

Pamela sighs and joins Godric in the tree. She sits on a branch across from him, “Cute treehouse. Little underdeveloped.” Still, Godric only stares. “I don’t understand why you and Eric don’t just make up already. I know I’d be up in a tree if Eric ever sent me away.” Pam looks at Godric’s sad eyes with sympathy. “We’d love to have you,” Pamela offers more gently. “It’s not much, but it’s… Well, it’s just really not much.”

Godric only whispers, “Thank you.”

Pamela sucks on the inside of her cheek as she tries to find the magic words to convince Godric and Eric to just share a fucking emotion for once. There are no magic words, just the truth. “He misses you so much,” Pamela shares quietly. “Both of you need to quit bein’ so fuckin’ stubborn. I know we’re all immortal, but life is still too fuckin’ short for this bullshit.”

Godric’s pager vibrates against his leg. Isabel. Godric gives Pamela a soft, sad smile before disappearing before her eyes. Pamela does not follow Godric, or tell Eric of his presence.

“Where have you been?” Isabel asks upon Godric’s return to Hotel Carmilla all too late in the night. “Where is it you go all these nights, Godric?” Isabel must know Godric will not tell her. He never does. “You are Sheriff, you are needed here.” 

Godric is not bothered by Isabel’s scolding. They are old friends, Godric knows Isabel means no harm. She has Godric’s best interest at heart. “What did I miss?”

“Fourteen dead humans. Soldiers,” Isabel informs. Isabel brings Godric to another room, where a vampire looking very much like a cowboy awaits them with silver on his wrists. 

After a moment of thought, Godric decides he recognizes this cowboy. “Baker,” Godric identifies quietly. This vampire runs in circles adjacent to Godric: vampires that disguise their shameful acts of violence under the cover of war. “San Antonio. 1836.” 

Baker looks up at Godric past his wide-brimmed hat and nods, “San Antonio, 1836. I never got your name.”

“Godric,” he introduces. 

“The Sheriff of Area 9,” Isabel emphasizes.

“Sheriff Godric,” Stan greets respectfully. 

-

Shreveport, 2009

“Godric?” Eric calls from what feels like a great distance. “Hjartað mitt,” ‘My heart,’ Eric tries again.  Godric feels Eric’s comforting hand on the back of his neck. Godric looks through Eric, his mind far away. 

This has been happening more and more frequently in the days since Russell Edgington’s very public declaration of war. Eric does not know where Godric’s mind goes. It becomes more difficult each time to draw Godric back to him. Russell Edgington must die, and soon. 

Tara calls Godric with more than just words, “Godric, come on, you’re scarin’ us.”

Godric’s eyes soon flutter back to the present. He looks at Tara, then Eric, then the others in the room. “I apologize,” Godric murmurs.

“Godric, are you alright?” Sookie asks kindly. Godric’s eyes meet Sookie’s. “This plan ain’t gonna work without you. Eric can’t overpower Russell without you.”

Godric is in the company of friends and family, he knows, but he cannot resist his shame. “I will not fail,” Godric assures. He hears something outside and takes the opportunity to change the subject, “Our guests are here.” 

“Guests?” Eric asks, having no prior knowledge of this. “What did you do?”

Godric disappears to open the door for Isabel and Stan. Eric finds Godric’s surviving nest from Dallas at the front door of Fangtasia. “You always got somethin’ up your sleeve, don’t you Godric?” Stan chuckles, “All that mess with the Fellowship of the Sun, it’s all makin’ sense now.” 

Isabel embraces Godric too tightly, “We were so worried for you. After the bombing-”

“Thank you for coming,” Godric interrupts, his eyes genuine. He quickly returns Isabel’s hug before pulling away. It is all more than Godric can handle right now.

Stan pats Godric’s back hard - all too friendly for Eric’s liking, “You know we’d do anything for you, Sheriff. And I don’t give a shit what the Authority thinks, you’ll always be the Authority in Dallas.” It’s silly for Eric to be jealous of Stan, of all people, but that knowledge doesn’t make Eric’s blood boil any less to see Stan touch Godric.

“Thank you,” Godric shows little emotion, but everyone here knows that does not mean he feels nothing. Godric is amongst friends. Godric is safe. Godric invites in others from the Dallas nest behind Stan. “Thank you all. Please. We were just finalizing our strategy for tonight.” Godric excuses himself to Eric’s room. Eric wastes no time following close behind. 

Behind closed doors, Godric sits and closes his eyes. It’s too much, too close, too personal, too familiar. Godric hasn’t stopped seeing memories of Korun all week. The sound of his taunting voice, the taste of his blood, the pain. It worsens as the battle nears. Eric kneels before Godric. Godric cannot even find in himself the strength to push Eric away so as not to worry him.

Eric presses a kiss to Godric’s forehead. Eric lightly tugs at the hair on the back of Godric’s neck. Eric rubs the side of Godric’s thigh soothingly. Eric knows with a thousand years of skill and practice how to ground Godric, but none of it has worked the last few days. It terrifies Eric. 

“Kom tillbaka till mig,” ‘Come back to me,’ Eric pleads gently. “Kom, kom, kom,” ‘ Come, come, come,’ Eric whispers the mantra to Godric. Eric rests his forehead against Godric’s. Eric brings Godric’s soft hand to Eric’s pale cheek. “Det är bara jag. Känn mig, återvänd till mig.” ‘It's just me. Know me, return to me.’ Godric’s eyes only manage to focus on Eric’s when he hears, “Jag behöver dig.” ‘I need you.’

Godric’s mind returns to the present with fluttering eyelashes. His hand finds Eric’s steady, strong shoulder for mental balance. Eric smiles fondly, “Det är det.” ‘That’s it.’

Godric does not know what is happening to him. Godric is lost, and only Eric can bring him back. “Godric,” Eric calls, “Inom dig finns två tusen år av styrka, visdom och raseri som jag behöver. Hör du mig? Det där monstret kommer att vara här ikväll. Vilken minut som helst. Vi har evighet att såra. Just nu behöver jag din hänsynslöshet, ditt hat, din hunger efter hämnd. Jag behöver min Död.” ‘Within you are two thousand years of strength, wisdom and fury that I need. Do you hear me? That monster will be here tonight. Any minute. We have eternity to hurt. Right now I need your ruthlessness, your hatred, your hunger for revenge. I need my Death.”

Eric pleads, “Var min Död bara en gång till. Detta är allt jag ber dig om.” ‘Be my Death only once more. This is all I ask of you.’ With two fingers on Godric’s chin, Eric pulls Godric into a soft kiss that quickly becomes impassioned as it was a thousand years ago. Eric draws Godric’s fangs out intentionally and allows him to bite Eric’s lip to taste his blood. 

“Var min,” ‘Be mine,’ Eric murmurs against Godric’s mouth. “Vi kommer att kämpa för varandra. Vi kommer att skydda varandra. Vi kommer att leva för varandra. Som vi alltid har gjort.” ‘We will fight for each other. We will protect each other. We will live for each other. As we have always done.’ 

It dawns on Eric that this may be his last opportunity to bare his heart to Godric. “Du tillhör inte honom, eller din Skapare eller någon annan. Aldrig. Du har alltid varit min, och jag har alltid varit din. Innan vårt blod och våra kroppar blev ett. Innan du eller jag någonsin existerade var vi ett.” ‘You do not belong to him, or your Maker, or anyone else. Never. You have always been mine, and I have always been yours. Before our blood and bodies became one. Before you or I ever existed, we were one.’ Eric’s fingers tighten in Godric’s hair, “Detta vet jag är sant.” ‘This I know to be true.’ 

A drop of blood falls down Godric’s cheek. Godric knows Eric’s words to be true. “Ta graih aym ort,” ‘I love you,’ Eric speaks with all the confidence in the world. Eric would certainly say or do anything for Godric, but this is the truth of his heart. 

Godric pulls Eric into another kiss Godric would be happy to be lost in. Eric gladly obliges. They do not have time for more, but they steal what precious moments they can. Godric presses his love against Eric’s soft lips, grasping onto Eric like his final hold on reality, on Godric’s sanity. 

Eric knows he has Godric back. Eric does not know the consequences of this night, of the suffering it may cause Godric. All Eric needs is Godric at the end of this; the rest will be resolved in time. 

“Ta mee son dy bragh mayrt,” ‘I am forever with you,’ Godric proclaims in words Eric does not know. Godric’s people did not know the ownership of belonging to another. They knew only to choose to walk beside another for a lifetime. The sentiment does not translate exactly to another language Godric knows, but he tries in Eric’s first language, “Jag är för alltid med dig.” 

“Ta mee son dy bragh mayrt,” Eric gives back to Godric wholeheartedly, recognizing how much it means to Godric. 

Godric holds Eric’s cheek to keep him close, “Min Erik. Jag kommer att skydda dig med allt jag är.” ‘My Eric. I will protect you with all that I am.’ 

A musical knock at the front door to the bar. Godric and Eric share a look of hunger Eric has not seen in Godric in centuries. Not a hunger to feed, but a hunger for war, a hunger for vengeance, a hunger for victory. Eric recognizes Godric as the bloodthirsty warrior he once knew in the taiga. Eric knows they will defeat Russell Edgington, and Eric will take more pleasure in watching him meet his true death than any other. 

Eric wastes no time in meeting his destiny. He signals to the group to take their positions. He grabs Sookie, who does not appreciate the rough treatment, “Hey!” Eric brings her to the front door, Godric following closely behind. Eric opens the door for Russell Edgington, who carries a curious messenger bag that rests on his hip. “Let me go!” Sookie fights Eric in vain.

“Now, there’s my pretty little fairy,” Russell greets, his eyes on Godric. He then addresses Sookie, “And the blonde waitress, who may or may not be of value to me.”

“Don’t haggle, Russell, it’s beneath you,” Eric speaks boldly, toying with his prey. “The fairy for Godric: that is our deal. Take her, and leave us forever.” Eric pushes Sookie into Russell’s arms forcefully. “Taste her now if you must. Her blood is fae.”

“Don’t touch me, don’t!” Adrenaline kicks in as Sookie fights to push Russell away, but he is simply far too strong. “Let me go! Bill!” Godric’s heart aches for her. 

“A fairy for a vampire, hm?” Russell considers, drawing this out. He watches Sookie squirm, “lamia peculiaris. Sanguis tuus adhuc mare gustat.” ‘A special vampire. Your blood still tastes of the sea.’ Godric’s eyes are wide. He does not understand Korun’s meaning, but he knows it is nothing good. 

“Don’t speak to him,” Eric barks protectively. “Take your fairy and go.”

“Sirenes habetis? Hoc artis bene esset,” ‘ How about Sirens? This would be a more fine trade,’ Korun taunts. 

Godric is taken so off guard by Korun’s words, he finds himself asking, “Sirenes?” ‘Sirens?’

Korun only laughs at Godric’s confusion, “Putasne bulla tua solum te circumagere pro ore pulcherrimo?” ‘Do you think your Master kept you only for that pretty mouth?” Godric feels the fear and nothingness begin to creep back in, “Sanguis tuus cantat.” ‘Your blood sings.’

“Let us see if your blood sings, too,” Russell taunts Sookie. Eric furrows his brow in confusion, but this is not the time to ask questions.

“No. No, no, no-” Sookie screams as Russell’s fangs penetrate her neck. “Bill!” Sookie cries in desperation, in terror.

They do not allow this to go on for long. Bill comes for Russell with a stake from behind. Even intoxicated by Sookie’s fairy blood, Russell hears Bill coming. Bill manages to stake Russell, but misses his heart. Sookie drops to the ground and bleeds out onto the floor. Godric and Eric attack, the others close behind. Bill evacuates Sookie from the scene. Russell Edgington is drunk, distracted, and overpowered. There is a skirmish before Russell is pinned to the ground. It all happens in a matter of seconds. It’s too good to be true.

“Do it,” Alcide instructs Eric as he presses Russell’s head to the ground with all his strength. Stan, Isabel, and Godric hold his arms, two others from the Dallas nest hold his legs. Eric mounts Russell’s disabled form with a stake in hand.

“You don’t want to do this,” Russell pleads.

Eric smirks, deeply pleased to hear the monster that murdered his family and hurt his maker beg. “I like the sound of that,” Eric toys, “but I will dance and piss and fuck upon your grave.”

“Aia,” Russell says to Godric. “Vivamus Aia est.” ‘Aia lives.’ Godric’s grip tightens on Korun’s arm and shoulder. Godric tries, he does, but he cannot resist the temptation that Korun offers.

“Impossibilia,” ‘Impossible, ’ Godric defies. Korun knows he’s already won.

“Give Hel my regards,” Eric’s hand plunges into Russell Edgington’s chest to grab his heart.

Russell Edgington shouts, “Sine me eam non invenies!” ‘ You will not find her without me!’

Godric hates himself for saying, “Eric, stop. Stop, please!” 

Eric keeps a tight grip on Russell’s heart as he shouts at Godric, “Do not listen to this snake!”

“Cito loquere. Unde hoc scis?” ‘ Speak quickly. How do you know this?’ Godric urges Korun desperately. Godric cannot stop Eric for long.

“Olim amicus meus. Warlow,” ‘A friend of mine from long ago. Warlow,” Korun explains. “Hybridas colligit, ut soror tua. Et pueri eius.” ‘ He collects hybrids, like your sister. And her child.’

“Hybridas?” ‘Hybrids?’ Godric asks, entranced by Korun’s words.

“Godric!” Eric shouts at him.

“Siren et lamia,” ‘Siren and vampire,’ Korun chokes out, blood beginning to escape from his mouth due to Eric’s fist tightly wrapped around his heart.

Godric does not know how to begin explaining this to Eric, and to the others. They are so close, and Godric is about to ruin everything. “Eosdem oculos, eosdem tattoos. Idem dulcis sanguis. Novi genus tuum. Usquam.” ‘ Same eyes, same tattoos. Same sweet blood. I know your kind. Anywhere.’ 

Korun goes on, clearly desperate, “Ego paciscor indulcat. Dicam tibi quomodo inuenias fratrem tuum. Remus.” ‘I can sweeten the deal. I will tell you how to find your brother. Remus.’ Godric cannot hide the fear from his eye. Korun knows he’s won, “Inveni eum antequam inveniat te. Et caris tuis.” ‘Find him before he finds you. And your loved ones.’ 

“Godric! Hjartað mitt!” Eric shouts again. “Let me kill him. Don’t do this, Godric.” Eric knows it’s too late, feels it as he feels Godric’s pain. “Fuck!” 

“Novit ubi sis. Scit de tua Vikinga.” ‘He knows where you are. He knows of your Viking.’ Godric simply cannot lose Eric. 

“Please forgive me,” Godric begs Eric.

Russell Edgington laughs as he coughs up blood. Eric removes his hand from Russell’s chest and breaks his neck, rendering him unconscious. “Goddamn you, Godric,” Eric curses. 

Eric does not look at Godric all night. He understands why they cannot yet kill Russell Edgington. He has every intention to scour the world himself in search of Godric’s sister, who may or may not still exist. This does not erase Eric’s anger. Godric knows this, but it does not erase his pain of hurting the person he loves most. Godric cannot bring himself to tell Eric of Remus, even if it may lessen his anger. 

“Just kill me, Viking. Take your fucking revenge!” Russell Edgington shouts as silver-laced concrete buries him alive. 

“Do you have more information you care to share yet?” Eric asks, his tone devoid of emotion. Russell stays silent. “Until you can prove without a shadow of a doubt that you have outlived your usefulness, you will remain here with no escape from your grief. No escape from knowing I took what you love most, and you will never see him again. That I won.” 

“You will regret this,” Russell Edgington threatens.

Eric already regrets this, but he’s nothing if not an optimist, “Maybe so. But if it means I can return here at only my whim to take as much revenge as I please, I’ll take that risk.” Korun screams as he is encased in concrete. Godric closes his eyes: he has no desire to watch suffering drawn out. Suffering does not erase suffering. 

“He ain’t goin’ nowhere. You two can head on out,” Alcide speaks gently to Godric. Tonight has been a lot for everyone, but no more than Godric. Anyone can see that, although Eric is the only one who knows exactly what happened to Godric tonight. “I’ll stick around until the sun rises and my crew gets here. It’ll be dry by tomorrow.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Godric nods. “Eric?”

Eric ignores Godric to stare at the wet concrete. Godric stands beside Eric silently as long as it takes. “Suit yourself,” Alcide takes a nap in his car.

“Jag har blivit kallad till New Orleans. Imorgon kväll,” ‘I have been summoned to New Orleans. Tomorrow night,’ Godric informs Eric in a whisper. It is safer for Eric here in Shreveport. Surely, Godric will be punished for his continued insanity. Despite this, Godric knows this is not the time to push Eric away. Godric promised. “Vill du gå med mig?” ‘Will you join me?’ Eric nods, although he does not need to answer at all. Godric knows Eric will follow him anywhere.

Chapter Text

13

-

London, 1700

“Godric, come on, please wake up. I have wonderful news,” Nora wakes Godric with the poorly contained excitement of a toddler. Godric wakes with a smile, as he often does these days. “Quickly, don’t wake Eric.”

Eric sleeps deeply beside Godric, sprawled out across their bed with his face buried in a fluffy pillow. Godric carefully slips out of bed and follows Nora upstairs. “The carpenters have officially finished. Just in time,” Nora shares excitedly. “Let’s go tonight. Please, can we? I can’t wait any longer, I’ll tell him and ruin the surprise. We should go soon anyway, it’s nearly August.” 

Godric struggles to disguise his own excitement. Even in his disheveled, sleepy state, joy peaks through a shy smile. Godric nods in agreement. “Really?” Nora asks, though she knows Godric does not lie to her. “I’ll pack everything myself. Just wake Eric and we’ll go.” Nora hugs Godric tightly, her leg impatiently bouncing beneath her dress. She disappears quickly to begin packing whatever she deems necessary to take with them. 

Eric is agreeable to the trip, although he is harmlessly suspicious of Nora’s excitement. Eric tests as Nora’s excitement persists only a few short miles from his family’s property, “You think Öland is hell literally frozen over. Your words exactly.”

“Perhaps I was too hasty,” Nora suggests without much discretion at all. “It’s growing on me.” She dares playfully, “Race you the rest of the way?” Nora disappears before Eric even agrees. Godric watches them race to the property, feeling his heart full of affection for them both. This is more happiness than Godric previously thought himself capable of. 

It isn’t long before Nora and Eric find a new house built on Eric’s family property. It is unnecessarily large, faces the sea, and does not have a single window. Eric looks at it with wide, shocked eyes. Nora touches his arm gently, “We can tear it down if you hate it. Everything that was already here is untouched, I made sure of it.”

Godric joins Eric and Nora as they enter the dwelling. It is exactly Eric’s taste. Godric must admit he’s impressed at the detail Nora was able to accomplish. The dwelling is, somehow, warm. A luxurious bathtub awaits Eric. All of his favorite books line the walls of his library. Nora shows Eric each detail she imagined up herself - with Godric’s guidance, of course - and glamoured a team of carpenters to execute. There is even a very accurate drawing of Eric, Godric, and Nora resting on a wooden credenza. In what is to be Eric’s bedroom, a drawing of Eric and Godric together. 

“Will you say something?” Nora finally requests anxiously. Eric is currently gazing fondly at the picture of the three of them together. “Eric, please say something. Anything. I’ll burn it all down myself if you hate it. Just tell me what you think.” Eric has never been so quiet. 

Eric pulls Nora into a tight embrace. Godric tenderly wipes a stray tear from Eric’s cheek. Eric grabs onto Godric and pulls him close, too. No words are needed, but Nora tells Eric in her very British accent, “Jag älskar dig, bror.” ‘I love you, brother.’ Nora kisses Eric’s cheek, “Happy birthday.” 

Their small family spends the rest of the night on the beach. They swim and play and, eventually, lie together peacefully in the sand at the water’s edge as they watch the stars. They are unburdened. They are home.

-

Shreveport, 2009

Sleep does not come easily to Eric today. He watches Godric succumb to exhaustion and holds him all day, lost in thought. Eric loves Godric endlessly, even if Godric is making that task more difficult than usual. Sometime in the middle of the day when Godric is deeply asleep, Eric sneaks out to the basement. 

“Har du någon aning om vad klockan är?” ‘ Do you have any idea what time it is?’ Nora greets unpleasantly over the phone, exhaustion in her tone. 

Eric asks directly, “Varför kallas han till New Orleans?” ‘Why is he called to New Orleans? ’ 

Eric can practically see Nora roll her eyes. “Att bli hedrad. Du är välkommen.” ‘To be honored. You’re welcome.’ Silence falls between them for some time. “Vad händer med honom? Hans sinne?” ‘ What’s happening to him? His mind?’

“Om du var här skulle du veta det,” ‘If you were here, you would know,’ Eric responds spitefully. “Berätta för mig vad som hände 1895.” ‘ Tell me what happened in 1895.’ Silence. Eric demands, “Vad sa du till honom?” ‘What did you say to him?’ More silence. “Du borde ha berättat det för mig så fort det hände, din själviska, bortskämda kille.” ‘You should have told me as soon as it happened, you selfish spoiled brat.’  

“Du kunde omöjligt förstå,” ‘You couldn’t possibly understand,’ Nora responds bravely. She surely would take more caution if she were not hours away. To come between Eric and Godric is suicide. 

“ Berätta för mig vad du sa till honom 1895 ,” ‘Tell me what you said to him in 1895,’ Eric demands. “Om du någonsin haft någon respekt för din Skapare, personen som gav dig den odödlighet som du slösar bort på auktoriteten, kommer du att berätta för mig.” ‘ If you ever had any respect for your Maker, the person who gave you the immortality you squander at the Authority, you will tell me.’

“Varför bryr du dig? Efter all denna tid, varför frågar du mig nu?” ‘ Why do you care? After all this time, why are you asking me now?’ Nora asks. 

“Allt förändrades den natten. Hela den här tiden skyllde jag mig själv för Godrics distans, men jag borde ha vetat att det var du hela tiden.” ‘ Everything changed that night. All this time I was blaming myself for Godric's distance, but I should have known it was you all along.’ If Eric allows himself to shed a tear now, it is not for Nora to know. “Du krossade hans hjärta. Fixa det. Innan det är för sent.” ‘You broke his heart. Fix it. Before it’s too late.’

Silence again. 

Nora’s tone softens, “Vad hände i Dallas, the Fellowship of the Sun... det är sant? Har han blivit galen?” ‘ What happened in Dallas, the Fellowship of the Sun… is it true? Has he gone mad?’ 

Eric softens against his better judgment, “Han mår inte bra.” ‘He is not well.’ Eric rubs his face tiredly, “Du känner honom inte så här, men jag gör det. Det är värre än jag någonsin har sett.” ‘ You don’t know him like this, but I do. This is worse than I have ever seen.’  

“Om du tror att han kan överleva att förlora dig har du fel. Det kan han inte.” ‘ If you think he can survive losing you, you are wrong. He cannot.’ Eric tries to reason with Nora in a way he is rarely desperate enough to do. “Kom hem. Gör detta rätt. Jag kommer inte att fråga två gånger.” ‘Come home. Make things right. I will not ask twice.’

More silence. Nora whispers, “Jag kan inte.” ‘ I cannot.’

Eric takes a deep breath to steady himself and informs Nora with venom in his tone, “Då är du död för mig.” ‘ Then you are dead to me.’ It is something Eric has never said to Nora, even at the height of their most violent arguments. The phone call ends. Eric allows only one more tear to fall before he cleans himself up and returns to Godric in his room. 

Eric slips back into the coffin beside Godric, whose body moves unconsciously to accommodate Eric. Eric pulls him close. Godric mumbles sleepily against Eric’s chest, “Vad är det, ást-kær?” ‘ What is it, love-dear?’ 

Eric holds Godric closely and hopes he will fall back to sleep. He does not. Godric’s hand moves soothingly, slowly along Eric’s bare waist. Eric stops himself from thinking on Godric’s gentle, kind nature lest he shed tears before Godric. 

“Ingenting. Vila.” ‘Nothing. Rest.’ Eric whispers back with no emotion in his voice. “Jag är här.” ‘I am here.’ Eric’s fingers tangle in Godric’s hair as he breathes in Godric’s scent to soothe himself.

Godric tries, but cannot ignore Eric’s emotions. Godric feels a heat of anger in his chest that he knows is Eric’s. The coldness of anxiety on the back of Godric’s neck, however, is all his own. “Förlåter du mig någonsin?” ‘Will you ever forgive me?’ Eric will, of course, always love Godric, but Eric’s capacity for anger is very nearly as large as his capacity for love. The two are closely intertwined. 

Eric rolls his eyes. Godric must know what a ridiculous question it is. “Why do you lie to me?” Eric asks quietly. “After a thousand years, do you not trust me?” 

Godric feels a wrenching in his gut. He chooses his words carefully. “I trust only you. I trust you entirely.” Godric looks up at Eric with sad, tired eyes. Eric still does not look into his eyes. Godric thinks of Remus and feels terror in his veins.

Eric lets it go. He kisses Godric’s forehead and pulls him close again. “Just rest. Forget it.” Godric’ muscles do not relax again. Eric softens and rubs his hand up and down Godric’s back. “I will forgive you when Russell Edgington meets his true death. Okay?” Eric bargains impatiently. “I will forgive you. Of course I will. I would have done the same as you did. Anyone would have. It is not your fault he… Please, just rest.” 

Godric does not know how to soothe Eric of this. Godric has never betrayed Eric, never like this. This is new territory for them. What words can bring Eric solace now that Godric has allowed Russell Edgington to live? What comfort can Godric give Eric? “Please know how sorry I am. I love you, my Eric.” 

Godric’s sad eyes find Eric’s again. Eric knows it is absurd to take his anger out on Godric, who is endlessly good to Eric. Eric finds he has no choice but to soften for Godric. Eric returns, “I love you more than I hate him.” A tear escapes him. Godric wipes it away tenderly, and more fall. 

Godric wraps his arms around Eric’s neck and cradles his face against his own shoulder. Eric grasps onto Godric tightly and lets blood tears fall onto his bare skin. Godric does not speak, he knows any kind words now will only remind Eric of his weaknesses. Eric does not need words now, he needs only Godric’s touch.

Eric and Godric prepare to leave for New Orleans shortly after the sun sets. Tara and Godric struggle to separate. “You’re really gonna leave me alone with her?” Tara asks as she holds Godric in a tight embrace, only half joking. 

Pamela rolls her eyes, “You should be so lucky, baby vamp.”

“We’ll be back tonight,” Eric assures. “If the Authority wanted Godric dead, they wouldn’t call him to New Orleans. Knowing Godric, they’ll probably try to make him King again.” Godric pales at the suggestion. 

“Why wouldn’t you want to be King? Isn’t that a good thing?” Tara asks, quickly picking up on Godric’s discomfort. 

Eric interrupts before Godric can answer, “Another time. We should go.” 

“If it’s not a bad thing, can’t I come with you?” Tara asks hopefully. Tara isn’t making this easy on Godric, but Eric can’t blame her. It was hundreds of years before Eric was ever so much as a room apart from Godric. Tara is only a matter of days old and she has hardly had any time with Godric at all. Eric sees so much of Nora in Tara.

Godric reminds gently, “It is very important that the Authority does not know I am your Maker, little one.” He whispers and squeezes Tara softly, “I miss you already. I’m sorry.” 

“Enough. Godric, kom igen, innan ni båda börjar gråta,” ‘Godric, come on, before you both start crying,’ Eric insists with a hand on his shoulder. Godric kisses Tara’s cheek before parting. 

“You’re a dick, Eric,” Tara shows Eric her middle finger as he walks out with Godric.

Eric returns the gesture behind Godric’s back. Godric does not need to look at his progeny to know what happens outside his field of vision. “Apologize, please,” Godric insists. 

Eric and Tara both scoff and murmur in unison, “Sorry.” 

“You’re so stuffy sometimes,” Eric teases Godric lightheartedly as they depart from the bar together. 

Godric and Eric share only silence on the way to New Orleans.

“Send them in,” Nan instructs from her office. Godric and Eric enter together. Godric drops Russell Edgington’s fangs onto Nan Flanagan’s desk. If Eric didn’t know better, he might think Nan was impressed. 

“Casualties?” Nan asks directly, without emotion. 

“None,” Godric answers in a similar vein. 

“Eyewitnesses?” Nan asks. 

“Only the allies from Dallas that assisted us. They are loyal to the Authority. They can provide testimony if you require it,” Godric answers simply. 

“Any loose ends whatsoever?” Nan asks. “Anything I should know?” 

“No.” Eric forgets how skilled of a liar Godric is.

“The Authority trusts you,” Nan shares. “We are living in a post-Russell Edgington world. We have no Magister, and no Monarch of this state. The political landscape has become polarized. Everything is changing.” Nan pauses before asking, “Are you sure you want him here for this?”

There is no question. Godric nods confidently. “So be it,” Nan sighs. “Alright, Godric. Tell me, what do you believe?”

Godric considers this. The room is silent. Eric has, quite frankly, no idea what’s going on. “My allegiance is to the Authority.” Nan remains silent, waiting for more. Godric sees no point in lying further than that. “I lived many years in darkness. My hunger controlled me. I knew nothing else. In the dark ages, perhaps there was nothing else. You may remember this.” 

Godric does not break eye contact with Nan for a moment. “Not so long ago, something changed in me. My hatred changed into… something else. I did not understand until very recently what it meant. I have now evolved in a way Russell Edgington, and a very many millennia-old vampires like us, could not. Humans and vampires can coexist. I do not wish to create bloodshed when none is called for. I don’t see the danger in treating humans as equals. I believe the Fellowship of the Sun arose because we never did so.”

Godric admits, “I don’t think very much like a vampire anymore - at least, what I was once taught a vampire is. The pain Russell Edgington and others like him have caused… It makes me bleed.” Eric only feels irritation. He’s heard Godric say it all before, and he hates it. But Eric loves Godric, so Eric sits quietly and focuses on that part of him that accepts Godric unconditionally. “I want forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. But I hope for it.” 

Silence.

“Your nest in Dallas has only positive things to say about you. And anyone else who’s ever met you,” Nan shares, “including all the religious nuts who were involved in your kidnapping, miraculously. They intended to kill you, and somehow, you won every single one of them over. Even Steve Newlin described you as ‘pretentious.’ Take it from me, that’s a compliment coming from him.” Godric realizes from Nan’s tone alone his punishment and resists arguing. There is nothing Godric can do to stop it now.

“Louisiana needs a leader. Louisiana needs you, King Godric. The Authority has decided,” Nan informs. “Eric, you will witness?”

Eric is shocked: not at the proposal, but at Godric’s willingness. Godric has no choice: he kneels before Nan and bows his head. Eric nods in agreement, although he can hardly believe it’s finally happening. Eric is witnessing Godric’s coronation. “By the power vested in me by the one true Vampire Authority whose wisdom and justice we hold sacred, I hereby pronounce you King Godric of Louisiana.”

“I pledge my fealty to the Authority for as long as I walk this Earth. And I swear it upon the blood,” the words feel like acid in Godric’s mouth. Eric never expected to hear him say the words. 

“Hear, hear,” Nan congratulates Godric. “Effective immediately. Sit, we have paperwork.”

Chapter Text

14

-

Gaul, ~60 B.C.

Cold air pricks at Godric’s face, the rest of his body is covered in warm clothes and an even warmer blanket. The sun sets in a vibrant rainbow of colors. Today is Samhain: a day of mourning and of celebration. “As nish, t'ou uss ry-cheilley rish ny shenn-ayraghyn,” ‘Tonight, your grandmother joins the ancestors,’ Godric’s mother tells him in a shaky tone he has never before heard in her voice. He holds onto her tightly, trusting her entirely.

Separating Godric and his mother is not easy tonight. “Ta mee tendeil da dty mraane-oast nish,” ‘I must tend to your grandmother now,’ she attempts to explain, but Godric’s little fingers do not loosen on her clothes. “Hig-ym reesht hood’s goaill stiagh, mraane beg. Ta mee gialdyn.” ‘I will return to you shortly, little one. I promise.’ It isn’t until Aia points out all the food available by the bonfire that Godric hesitantly agrees to part from his mother.

Godric’s mother cries in her grief as she escorts her own aged, frail mother to the water’s edge. Godric’s father is on the old woman’s other side, supporting her weight. Aia and Godric sit together nearer to the large bonfire and the rest of the tribe. Aia continually tries to distract her little brother with food and toys, but his eyes are firmly on their parents. 

Godric’s mother embraces her own mother tightly in the distance. When their soft moment ends, Godric’s father moves to hold his wife nearby. The tribe chants. The water glows in a bright light. People the Druids call the Ancestors rise from the water and approach Godric’s grandmother. The tribe is silent. Godric’s grandmother is overjoyed to see them. She steps into the water and slowly, they all disappear. 

Godric’s mother does not stop crying for several days. Godric stays by her side until her tears pass, happy to be held all the while. “Bioys mayd ooilley ry-cheilley laa erbee,” ‘We will all be together one day,’ she promises Godric. “Tra nagh vel caggey, nagh vel pian, agh graih.” ‘Where there is no loss, no pain, only love.” She smiles for the first time in days, and Godric feels a lightness in his chest. “Ta shin goll cooidjagh son dy bragh.” ‘We walk together forever.’

-

No amount of coaxing from Eric can make Godric sleep this day. Godric spends most of the day at the bar drinking through dozens of bottles of Tru Blood while Eric, too protective to leave Godric unattended, sleeps on the filthy sofa nearby. 

Tara is the first one to wake, as she often is. Godric is so lost in thought, she does not catch his attention until she takes a seat beside him. He checks the time before insisting in a whisper so Eric will not be awoken, “You should sleep longer, little one.” 

Tara takes a sip from a half empty bottle and ignores Godric’s encouragement to rest. “Happy Halloween. Have you been out here all day?” Tara asks quietly. 

Godric asks, “Halloween? Already? It can’t be.” He rubs his tired eyes at the thought of another year gone so quickly.

Tara jokes, “You’re telling me. What a fucked up year.” She finishes the bottle and grabs another few bottles from behind the bar for them both. “Do you like Halloween?”

This question should not be so difficult for Godric to answer. He carefully avoids answering directly. “It was very different when I was human. I don’t remember much.”

“Homesick?” Tara asks with as much gentleness as she ever summons. Godric does not know how to answer this, either. “Me, too. Makes me miss how things used to be with Sookie and Jason when we were kids.” Tara asks, “What was your family like?” 

Tara has a habit of asking Godric painful questions often with no real understanding of the pain. Godric understands, and he does not blame her for this. Tara has seen much pain in her human life and, unlike Godric, faces it directly and seeks to understand it. Godric has spent two thousand years running from his pain. “This is my family now,” Godric answers with a tired, sad smile. “Would you like to visit Bon Temps tonight?” 

Tara is learning to let go when Godric clearly doesn’t want to talk about his past. Tara will get him to open up someday. She bites her tongue and considers Godric’s question. “My mama’s gonna hate me. She is.” Tara suddenly looks so very lost. Godric rests his hand on hers on the bar to silently offer support. “I miss her. I shouldn’t, but I do. Isn’t that just…” Tara rubs blood tears from her eyes. “…so fucked up?”

Godric moves to pull Tara into a hug. She grasps onto Godric’s waist tightly. Eric wakes, but keeps his eyes closed and remains still. Godric whispers, “You have the gift of time, my little one. You need not tell your mother everything tonight. You miss her, yes?” Tara nods. “We will go to Bon Temps and you can see her. That is all. Hm?”

“What if I get angry and hurt her? Like I hurt Sookie?” Tara asks, her voice muffled by Godric’s shoulder. 

Godric rubs Tara’s back soothingly, “You will not. I promise.” Tara relaxes trustingly into Godric’s touch. 

“Okay,” Tara agrees. “Okay, yeah. I think I’d like that.” She continues to wipe her tears, “Does he have to come, too?” 

“Yes,” Eric answers before Godric can. Tara jumps in surprise. “It’s not personal,” Eric offers. 

“Asshole,” Tara curses. She sighs and rests her head on Godric’s shoulder, feeling defeated. “How have you put up with him for a thousand years?” Godric rubs Tara’s back soothingly and does not answer this question either. 

The drive to Bon Temps feels especially long this night. Godric lies his head back and watches tall trees and bright stars fly by as Eric and Tara argue about nothing of any substance at all to the ambiance of electronic music. Godric makes every effort not to intervene despite his progenies’ best attempts to drag him into the conflict. After so many years with Eric and Nora, Godric accepts it all as white noise. 

“God, this place is trash,” Tara comments as they arrive. “I don’t know why anyone stays.”

“Something we can agree on,” Eric parks the car at Sookie’s place. “Can you handle him for a few hours? Sookie and I have some things to discuss.” Godric should question this, but Sookie Stackhouse is the last thing on his mind.

Eric takes Tara’s phone from her hands. “Hey! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tara tries and fails to take it back. 

Eric enters his phone number in her phone before giving it back. “Text me when you’re done.” 

“Why can’t Godric text you?” Tara asks, grabbing her phone back. 

“Because Godric is a conspiracy theorist and doesn’t believe in cell phones,” Eric answers with a teasing smirk. Godric opens the car door and steps out to appreciate the fresh air. Tara only gives Eric an expectant expression. “He can’t text me if he has no phone, can he?” Eric and Tara exit the car. 

The sight of Sookie’s house makes Tara feel… very not ready for any of this. “Maybe we should start with my mama,” Tara suggests. Godric nods in acceptance. Eric kisses Godric briefly before heading to Sookie’s house. When it’s just Tara and Godric, Tara cannot hide her fears. “Godric, I don’t want to hurt my mama.”

Godric gives Tara his full attention. He stands before Tara and says in a soft tone, “You will not bring harm to your mother. As your Maker, I command it.” 

Tara and Godric just look at each other as Tara realizes what this means. Tara hugs Godric, “Thank you.”

Tara becomes increasingly nervous as they approach her mother’s apartment. Before Godric can offer to wait outside, Tara requests in a small, frightened voice, “Please, don’t leave me.” Tara holds Godric’s hand. 

Godric nods in agreement and squeezes Tara’s hands reassuringly, “Never.” He promises, “I’m right behind you.” 

“Mama?” Tara calls as she enters the dwelling. Godric waits by the entryway to give Tara space. 

“Tara Mae? Baby?” A woman calls back somewhat frantically. “Don’t come in here.” Naturally, Tara continues on in search of her mother. She stops in her tracks when she sees her mother and the reverend dressing quickly.

“Reverend Daniels?” Tara asks, shocked. 

“Uh, hello,” Reverend Daniels responds. “I-I spilled some lemonade on my pants.” 

Tara turns on her heels to leave. “Baby, it ain’t what it look like.”

“Your mother was just helping me with a sermon when I spilled the lemonade,” the Reverend poorly lies. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Tara tells Godric. 

“Who is this?” Lettie Mae asks. Tara does not answer, only storms out of the apartment. Godric follows, as does Tara’s mother. “Tara Mae,” her mother insists. 

Outside, Tara stops and asks, “Does his wife know? His kids? You know what-” Tara shakes her head, “It don’t matter. This ain’t about them, it’s about you. I can’t just… visit. Ever. You’re either drunk or sleeping with the Reverend or-”

Tara laughs, slightly hysterical. “Why can’t you ever just be a mama? Ever, just once? Why can’t I come home on Halloween and you be handing out candy to kids, or watching a Halloween movie, or… anything? Anything normal, at all?” 

Lettie Mae’s eyes well up in tears. “I am your mama, baby girl.” Silence falls between them. “I know I- I ain’t perfect, but… I am your mama.” Tara softens, but the moment is short-lived. “I’m in love, Tara Mae. He’s gonna divorce his wife and marry me. I’m gonna be a minister’s wife. Can’t you be happy for me?” 

Tara deflates sadly. She hugs her mother with tears in her eyes, “Yes.” She looks at Godric over her mother’s shoulder, “I really hope you can be happy. I do.” 

“I love you, baby girl,” Lettie Mae says as she holds her child. 

“I love you, Mama.” Godric is lost in thought until Tara says, “Come on, let’s go.” 

As Godric walks by, Tara’s mother grabs his arm and says, “You take care of my baby, you hear me?” Her eyes are crazed, fearful, as though she knows more than she does.

“Mama, stop it, let go of him,” Tara argues. 

“You take care of her,” Lettie Mae insists with a tightening of her grip on Godric’s arm. “Please.” In her eyes, Godric sees the desperation of a helpless mother for her child to be safe and well. Godric feels his chest tighten in an emotion he struggles to place.

“You ain’t got no right, Mama,” Tara insists. 

Godric nods sincerely, “I will. Yes. Always.” He assures Tara’s mother with a hand on hers, “Always.” The woman gives Godric a teary smile and releases him. Tara and Godric leave without another word. Out of sight of her mother, Tara lets a few blood tears drop. Godric rubs her shoulder soothingly. 

Tara’s first meeting with Lafayette after becoming a vampire goes about as well as Godric could have guessed. Upon Tara knocking on Lafayette’s screen door, Lafayette greets Godric with the barrel of a gun. Godric protectively steps between Tara and the gun. “Lafayette, put that thing away,” Tara insists, her hands bracing herself on Godric’s back. “Don’t you hurt him, he ain’t done nothing wrong.” 

“You disappear, I don’t get nothin’ more than one single motherfuckin’ text sayin’ ‘I’m fine,’ and you come on up in this bitch with whoever the fuck this is and you don’t expect me to get my gun out?” Lafayette argues, the gun shaking in his terrified grip. 

“Put the gun down,” Tara demands firmly. “He ain’t gonna hurt me or you or anyone. Put it down.”

Lafayette looks at Tara and Godric for a long moment before he decides, “Fine. Hooker, you come in. You and I are gonna talk. Boyfriend, you stay right on out here.” 

“Where I go, he goes,” Tara is unbudging. “Lafayette, I know I ain’t got the best track record, but I need you to trust me this time. I need him.” 

Lafayette considers this before lowering the gun. He gestures for Tara and Godric to enter the dwelling. They don’t. A heartbroken expression crosses Lafayette’s face. “Tara…”

“You gonna let us in or not?” Tara asks, her voice shaking as she fights tears. 

“Come in, both y’all,” Lafayette invites quietly. He sets down the gun and pulls Tara into his arms lovingly. Tara cries into Lafayette’s shoulder, letting out all the emotions she’s bottled up over the time they’ve been apart. Lafayette holds her and whispers, “Hey, everything’s gon’ be alright. Lala’s got you.”

Lafayette takes Tara to the couch and instructs, “Lover-boy, go get our girl a Tru Blood from that fridge there. You, too. I don’t need no hungry vamps up in here. Don’t you worry ‘bout me, I got all I need right here.” Lafayette lights a blunt and Tara rolls her eyes fondly. 

Godric obeys, finding a small refrigerator with drugs, alcohol, and Tru Blood. Godric brings two bottles of Tru Blood. “Go on, take a seat, boyfriend. And you-“ Lafayette turns his attention to Tara, “You get this in your system and you start talkin’. Starting with who this pretty boy is and is he taken.” Godric takes a seat beside Tara, unaffected by Lafayette’s flirting. 

Tara laughs, “You barkin’ up the wrong tree, as usual. He’s Eric Northman’s…” It occurs to Tara she doesn’t know what Eric and Godric are to each other. “Boyfriend? Husband?” It is not a question Godric knows how to answer, either. Godric and Eric share a bond beyond human labels. Godric only nods in agreement that he is Eric’s. 

“Oh no the fuck you did not bring Eric motherfuckin’ Northman’s beau to my house,” Lafayette complains. “Imma need somethin’ a whole lot stronger than this. Is you Godric?” Godric doesn’t wonder for long how Lafayette knows his name. “He talked about you. You was missin’. He said you was ten times the vampire he would ever be. You the reason he tortured me and killed a whole bunch of other people.” Lafayette swallows a pill. 

It is not easy to hear the consequences of his recent actions. Godric doesn’t hesitate to sincerely apologize, “I’m more sorry than I can say for my actions - and for Eric’s. I realize irrevocable harm has been done, but I would like very much to make amends however possible.” 

Lafayette looks at Godric and Tara in shock. Tara explains, “It don’t make no sense, so don’t even ask.” 

“Okay, you start talkin’ Hooker.” It is a long and tearful conversation of Tara’s recent traumas. Tara draws comfort from Lafayette and Godric, who both offer unconditional love to Tara. It helps - talking with people who love Tara. 

It is a very long night and Tara is exhausted by the time Eric arrives at Lafayette’s front door expectantly. “Is the concept of cell phones entirely foreign to you, Tara? I text, you text back.” Lafayette becomes visibly distraught by Eric’s presence as he walks in and picks up a clock off a shelf. “Or perhaps analog clocks? The sun will rise this morning at 7:15, at which point the sunlight will come in through these tacky sheer curtains and-”

“Ást-kær,” Godric interrupts Eric with a firm tone, “vi kommer snart ut.” ‘Love-dear, we will be out shortly.’ Eric departs from the dwelling obediently, certain Godric is especially unhappy with Eric after speaking with Lafayette. 

Lafayette is very pleased with this. “Okay, I don’t know what that was, but I definitely like you. Tara, you bring this one ‘round anytime you want. But… can I ask just one thing? Fag to fag? Why Eric?” 

Godric considers Lafayette’s perspective. Godric can see why others see Eric as little more than unnecessarily violent and Godric as impossibly benevolent, but Godric thinks his and Eric’s love is nothing short of obvious. Eric’s actions in Godric’s absence were a kindness in comparison to Godric’s were Eric to be in a similar thread of unknown danger. Both Eric and Godric are capable of unspeakable evil and unconditional love for one another. 

The question brings an amused smile to Godric’s face, “I could not speak to the extent of my devotion to Eric in a hundred years. Even a thousand.” 

Lafayette and Tara are silent until Lafayette cedes, “Gotta respect that. He’s still a asshole, though.” 

Godric smiles softly and nods in subtly proud agreement, “Even so.” Outside, Eric smiles, too. Godric changes the subject, “Eric is right, we should return to Shreveport.”

“Don’t you worry, sweet girl, imma clean out that basement so you can come stay as long as you want,” Lafayette declares with a hand on Tara’s arm. “You know Lala loves you, Bitch.” 

Tara hugs Lafayette tightly one last time and requests, “You’ll look out for Mama for me?” 

Lafayette rolls his eyes playfully, “Oh, now you done it. Now you done gone too far, Hooker.” Tara slaps Lafayette’s arm playfully and they both laugh. “Get your skinny ass on out of here. Bring me a real available boyfriend next time. This one real pretty, but he trouble if I ever seen it.” Lafayette gives Godric a wink, “You take care of our girl, you hear?” 

“Always,” Godric assures Lafayette earnestly as he did Tara’s mother. “Always.”

Outside, Eric greets Godric with a soft hand on the back of his neck and a kiss on his temple. Godric cups Eric’s cheek and they press their foreheads together for a quick moment. Godric cannot resist the comfort he feels to be near Eric again any more than Eric can resist the comfort Godric’s presence gives. “Let’s get out of this shithole, go back to our shithole,” Eric suggests teasingly. “The car is at Sookie’s. She wants to see you tonight, Tara.” 

“I don’t want to see Sookie,” Tara declares as they walk toward the Stackhouse property together.

“If it were not for Sookie, you would not still be walking,” Eric informs Tara matter-of-factly. “She cares about you. Don’t be a bitch to her.” 

“This shit again. What the fuck do you know? What do you care about Sookie, anyway?” Tara bickers, but remains close to Godric’s side for fear of Eric’s temper.

“You may not know this yet, but it is not very often you will ever find a friend in this world. Let alone a friend who was willing to sacrifice everything on the off chance that she might see you again,” Eric scolds cryptically. 

“What exactly did Sookie sacrifice? She got everything she wanted, as usual.” The emotions of the night have left Tara exhausted. 

Eric divulges minimally, “All I’m saying is you didn’t see her that night. She was willing to do anything to save you. Anything.” Eric lets the realization of that set in. Godric raises a brow in concern. 

Eric adds, intentionally pushing Tara, “A lesser vampire would have taken advantage. I didn’t. We came to a mutually beneficial agreement that she owes me in perpetuity, short of servitude. It’s really unfair, considering she only has maybe 60 years left and I have eternity with you. But a fairy, think of the possibilities. Just the other night, she let Russell Edgington drink her blood because I asked.”

Tara realizes the meaning of Eric’s words. This isn’t what Tara wanted, but with as few options and allies as Sookie had, she managed to force Eric Northman, of all people, to save Tara. Everyone knows Eric Northman doesn’t do anything for free. “Fuck you, you egotistical fucking narcissist shit.”

Eric gives Tara a knowing smirk, clearly proud of himself. Godric does not care for Tara and Eric’s cruelty to one another, but he understands their intent is not insidious. They soon near Sookie’s house. Tara knocks, but nobody is home. “Sookie, it’s me, open up!” Only silence replies. 

Godric’s attention is drawn to the cemetery on the adjacent property. Through the fog and darkness, he sees a curious flash of light. Before Eric and Tara can notice the light, Godric has disappeared to the graveyard. The light is gone, but he is met with a sight so shocking he’s brought to his knee. 

Godric is sure he’s hallucinating, but he can’t tear his eyes away. Standing just before him, Godric impossibly sees a vision of his human parents. “Ghow Aia,” ‘ Find Aia.’ Godric’s mother’s voice is hardly audible. “Lhig da dty chreear.” ‘Find your sister.’  

“C'raad ta Aia?” ‘Where is Aia?’ Godric pleads for any information they may be able to give. Godric’s mother touches his cheek, and he feels it just as he did as a child. A blood tear reaches her hand and she doesn’t pull away in fear. After two thousand years, Godric is suddenly a child again in his heart, “Ta mee guee ort, fuirree. Ta graih aym ort.” ‘I beg you, stay. I love you.’ Of course, this is not possible, but that does not stop him from needing his family.

Godric’s father tells him, “Ta shin coshaghey roish dty hrooid son dy bragh, braew beg.” ‘We walk beside you forever, brave little one.’ 

All too soon, they disappear. “Godric?” Eric is at Godric’s side, “There you are. Who was that?” Eric’s hand is on the back of Godric’s neck, but Godric’s eyes remain fixed on the place his family impossibly stood only a moment ago. “Godric?” Eric wipes Godric’s tear, and still, Godric only stares blankly ahead, shocked. “Hjartað mitt?” ‘My heart?’

On the other side of the cemetery, Tara calls for Sookie. Bill Compton finds Tara and shares, “She’s not here.”

Tara might hate Sookie, but Tara is terrified of Bill Compton. “What’d you do to her?” Bill is silent. “What did you do to her?!” 

“Nothin’,” Bill says, clearly distraught by Sookie’s disappearance. Blood tears stain his cheeks. “I would never… She was angry with me. She left the house, and I… I felt her disappear from me. I don’t know what it means. It’s like she…”

“Don’t you fucking say it,” Tara all but growls at Bill. “Do not say that. She’s fine.” Tara’s voice is trembling. 

“Don’t make it any less true,” Bill tells Tara without any sensitivity whatsoever for the loss of her sister.

“You killed her,” Tara decides. She quickly loses control of her emotions. “I always knew you’d be the death of her,” Tara is crying now, her face covered in blood. “I told her you were gonna kill her one of these days. Where you go, trouble follows. I see you as you are, Bill Compton: you’re a monster, that’s all you’ll ever be!” 

Bill Compton, in his heartache and anger, lunges toward Tara, but stops himself when Eric appears between them. Eric doesn’t need more than a hard expression for Bill to understand: Bill Compton is not to bring harm to Tara now or ever. Bill Compton takes a step back and manages to calm himself. Bill Compton would be hopelessly overpowered in a fight against Eric, especially with his 2,000 year old maker nearby. Bill cannot win. 

“Tara, go find Godric,” Eric instructs. Something in Eric’s tone leaves no room for questions. Tara leaves in search of her maker. Eric asks, “Where is Sookie?”

Bill attempts to answer, “I don’t know. She left, and I felt-”

“That’s not useful to me,” Eric interrupts. “Do you have any information that is useful to me?” Bill responds with only silence. “That’s unfortunate. I would like for Sookie to return safely home. She owes me.” 

Eric proceeds to inform Bill, “You should be aware Godric was recently named King of Louisiana.” Bill becomes visibly angry at this knowledge. “If any information about Sookie’s disappearance comes to light, if you see any sign of her, I expect you’ll bring it to the authorities.” Bill only nods and takes his leave. 

The ride back to Fangtasia is largely quiet, Godric and Tara lost in their own fogs of dissociation. Eric doesn’t bother attempting to lift their spirits. It’s been a long, tiresome night in Bon Temps, and what everyone needs now is rest. Godric silently takes Tara to her room with a bottle of Tru Blood as Eric goes to their bedroom to wait for him. “We will search for Sookie tomorrow,” Godric promises Tara.

“I don’t understand, Godric. She wouldn’t just…”

Godric offers carefully, “I once drank Sookie’s blood. If Sookie had died, I would know.” He explains, “Sookie is a fairy. I cannot explain what happened tonight, but… stranger things have happened. I believe we can find her.”

Tara asks warily, “You really mean that?” 

Godric assures Tara, “I would not lie to you.” He offers a forced, tired smile, hoping not to burden Tara with his own feelings. “Please, rest now. We have much work to do in the evening.” 

Before Godric can leave, Tara hugs him suddenly and tightly, grasping onto him desperately. Godric cradles Tara in his arms. Tara is more precious to Godric than she can ever know. “Thank you. For everything,” Tara murmurs against Godric’s shoulder. Godric rests his hand gently on the back of Tara’s head to keep her close. “Maybe I shouldn’t thank you. It feels weird. This all feels weird. It is weird. It just-”

Tara doesn’t want to start crying again, so she stops herself. “Just… thank you, Godric.” 

Godric nods in acceptance. He whispers, “All I have to give is yours. Always.” He encourages again, “Rest. Tomorrow, we search for Sookie and begin your training.”

“Training?” Tara asks in confusion. 

Godric nods with a small, yet preemptively proud smile, “To be a strong vampire. So you will be independent, if you choose to be. So you may not always have to depend on me.” He tells Tara, “You have so much strength. You are so clever, smarter than most I have ever known. It is not easy to need me to visit your family or feed or even sleep. Hm?” Tara agrees, of course, but she’s surprised at how well Godric understands her without words. 

“You can be whoever you want to be. I care endlessly for you, I want you to live as you choose. I want you to be free,” Godric shares selflessly. “Eric and I will teach you all we know.” 

Tara smiles sadly and rubs her tired eyes. “Oh,” she answers simply. Something about all that just… makes her feel a little more empty. “Ready to get rid of me already?” 

Godric assures Tara, “I want you to choose to stay… always. I love you. Never doubt this. But right now, it is not your choice, is it?” Tara shakes her head. “No matter what, wherever you go in this world, we will always be connected. If you ever, ever need me, I will be there for you. Always. Nothing can change this.” 

It is a very long night. The sun has surely risen by the time Godric finds Eric in their coffin. Eric watches as Godric sheds clothes and climbs in to join Eric. Eric pulls Godric into his arms and pulls the lid of the coffin over them. “Vilka var dessa människor på kyrkogården, Godric?” ‘Who were those people in the cemetery, Godric?’

Godric looks into Eric’s eyes frightfully, still trying to comprehend the evening’s occurrences. “Det borde inte vara möjligt.” ‘It shouldn’t be possible.’ Godric struggles to find the words to answer Eric’s question. “Till och med nu kan jag knappt tro…” ‘Even now, I can hardly believe…’ Eric steadies Godric’s nerves with a soothing hand on his back.

“Min mamma och min pappa.” ‘ My mother and my father.’ Godric hardly believes his own words. “Eric, min syster lever.” ‘Eric, my sister lives.’ 

There is no question: “Jag tror.” ‘I believe.’ Eric promises Godric, “Du är inte galen. Jag såg. Jag tror dig.” ‘You are not mad. I saw. I believe you.’ 

This settles something in Godric. He closes his eyes in relief and whispers, “Tak, min Ást-kær. Tak.” ‘Thank you, my love-dear. Thank you.’

Despite Eric’s anger with Godric, Eric’s fingers naturally soothe through Godric’s hair. Eric’s love for Godric is unceasing. “Var ska vi söka efter din syster?” ‘ Where will we search for your sister?’ Godric does not have the slightest idea. He only buries his face in Eric’s neck for comfort. Eric pulls him impossibly closer.

Sleep does not come easily. “Eric?” Godric whispers, his mind stubbornly awake after sunrise. “Min stolthet över dig tar inget slut. Mina svagheter är dina styrkor. Mina styrkor är dina styrkor. Du har vida överträffat mig i skicklighet, sinne och smarthet som en vampyr. Du är mycket mer än jag någonsin hoppats för dig i taigan, min viking.” ‘My pride for you has no end. My weaknesses are your strengths. My strengths are your strengths. You have far surpassed me in skill, mind, and cleverness as a vampire. You are far more than I ever hoped for you in the taiga, my Viking.’ 

Eric is taken aback by Godric’s sudden heartfelt words. Godric adds, “Du är min hjälte.” ‘You are my hero.’ Eric thinks this is Godric’s way of thanking Eric for continually saving Godric’s life and picking up the pieces Godric leaves behind. “Allt bra med mig kom från dig.” ‘All good about me came from you.’ Godric touches Eric’s face softly as he always has. “Jag är ledsen för…” ‘I’m sorry for…’

“Tillräckligt,” ‘Enough ,’ Eric declares softly. He cannot tolerate a moment more of Godric’s apologies. “Vila. Du kan överösa mig i din uppskattning på kvällen genom att älska med mig.” ‘ Rest. You may shower me with your appreciation in the evening by making love to me.’ Godric smiles irresistibly at Eric’s humor. “Jag älskar dig. Jag förlåter dig. Sova.” ‘I love you. I forgive you. Sleep.’

“Jag älskar dig.” ‘I love you.’ Godric replies simply. He watches Eric late into the day, his mind soothed only by the curves of Eric’s face.

Chapter Text

15

-

Gaul, ~60 B.C.

“Dreggys, lhiannoo beg,” ‘Wake, little one,’ a familiar voice calls Godric. A gentle hand shakes his shoulder urgently, but still Godric sleeps deeply. “Ta ny druidyn geamagh orrin dy choamrey.” ‘The Druids call us to gather.’ The woman kisses Godric’s cheek once, then presses many kisses all over Godric’s face playfully. Godric wakes with sleepy ticklish laughs. “She shen eh. Tar,” ‘That’s it. Come,’ Godric is taken from his bed and pulled into warm arms, a blanket wrapped around him. Godric rests his head on his mother’s shoulder sleepily as she brings him to the sea. 

The sun will soon rise. Godric’s attention is distant at best until they reach the loud celebration. The people dance energetically as they have since last sunset. Fire burns brightly in a bonfire as large as Godric has ever seen. Musicians play joyful music. Fish cooks. Godric is glad to dance any time of day, but is unrousable as the other children his age this time of night. Godric watches his father and sister dance and laugh together in the crowd. Godric is happy. 

Godric’s mother hands him a small bite of fish that he eats slowly. It is all she can do to keep him awake. “As nish, ta’n Druids cur onnor da’n vleïn jeh’n chreear. T'ee s'snaue rish Jee yn oie shoh.” ‘Tonight, the Druids honor your sister’s age. She swims with God this night.’ 

Godric watches from his mother’s arms as the Druids blow loud horns to gather the people to the shore. Godric’s mother murmurs to him as the Druids speaks in words too complex for him, “Ayns laa, bee oo myrgeddin er ny onnoraghey. Ta shiu ry-sniemmey laa erbee lesh Jee.” ‘ Someday, you too will be honored. You will someday swim with God.’ 

The land becomes silent, short of a few whispered words here and there. The musician with the horn plays the song Godric identifies as the Ocean Stone song. Even children as young as Godric chant the incantation they have heard all their lives. “Jeeagh, jeeagh. Wave da dty chreear.” ‘Look, look. Wave to your sister,’ Godric does so, and Aia waves right back at him from where she stands before the Druids. 

Aia and three other children her age kneel into shallow waves before the Druids. Godric’s mother whispers to him as the Druids speak, “Ta Jee graihagh er Aia. T'eh graihagh orrin ooilley.” ‘God loves Aia. He loves us all.’ Godric sees pride in her dark eyes, “Ta ar pobble onnoraghey liorish Jee lesh pooar y marrey. Ta’n obbyr ain dy choadey eh, dy chur cooney da, dy ghraih ooilley e chreeaghyn myr ta Jee graihagh orrin.” ‘Our people are honored by God with the power of the sea. It is our duty to protect it, to care for it, to love all its creatures as God loves us.’

Godric stops watching the ceremony to look at the stars above. “Ta’n pooar shoh ec Jee ayns aoish Aia. T'ee er hoilshaghey da'n Druids dy vel ee ard-chreeagh, ard-chreeagh, as ard-chreeagh.” ‘God bestows this power to us at Aia’s age. She has demonstrated to the Druids that she is brave, courageous, and kind.”

Godric’s mother sheds a tear that falls onto Godric’s cheek. “T’ee nish goaill e chied swoaie rish Jee.” ‘She will now take her first swim with God.’ Godric’s tiny hand touches his mother’s cheek to wipe her tear away. She kisses his hand and says, “Ta mee cho lionney lesh graih, ta mee ry-hoi son Aia.” ‘I am so full of love, I overflow for Aia.”

The tribe watches as Aia and the others run into the sea eagerly. A glowing light in the darkness blinds Godric’s vision. He hides his face in his mother’s shoulder. 

-

Rio de Janeiro, 2010

“King Godric,” Eric calls quietly, teasingly. He has not stopped referring to Godric this way all year. He sits beside Eric on the luxurious hotel bed and runs his fingers through Godric’s hair soothingly. “My King,” Eric tries again. “Du kommer att missa din dejt om du inte vaknar nu.” ‘You will miss your date if you don’t wake now.’

“Hjartað mitt,” ‘ My heart,’ Eric lifts Godric’s hand to kiss his knuckles. 

Godric’s eyes finally crack open. He rubs his face tiredly with his free hand and mutters groggily, “Jag är ledsen.” ‘ I’m sorry.’

“Vad drömde du om?” ‘ What did you dream of?” Eric asks curiously, before adding, “My King.”

Godric has long lost all patience for Eric’s taunts, and has also accepted he cannot make Eric stop. “Måste du vara så grym mot mig så tidigt på natten?” ‘Must you be so cruel to me so early in the night?’  

Sleep has not come easily to Godric these past few weeks - or the past year. On a good night, he nods off to sleep a few hours after the bleeds begin, then wakes at sunset. Rio is a very vampire-friendly city, too friendly in Godric’s ill-tempered opinion. The recently invented UV blocking windows were a mistake. There is no real reason to go to ground when the sun cannot do harm. Why would immortals sleep when they can feed and fuck and party the endless days away?

Godric is under the firm belief that he is far too old for this lifestyle. If Godric ever experienced a time in his life that he craved this, it is long gone. 

Eric, however, is thriving. Eric loves the UV-protected windows, the experimental alcoholic True Blood, and the night life. Eric loves what people now call networking, but to Godric, looks like little more than getting drunk with strangers. 

“We don’t want to keep your lead waiting, do we? Every moment we waste here, Russell Edgington gets to live another moment,” Eric reminds Godric, as though Godric could possibly forget. Godric only nods in understanding and quickly cleans himself for the day. He knows Eric’s bottomless well of patience for Godric wears thinner the longer Russell Edgington rots alive in his concrete grave.

Eric and Godric find themselves in a club tonight they miraculously have not yet been to. The space is crowded, dark, loud, and full of young, gay men on ecstasy. Low lights flash rhythmically. Music pounds loudly enough that Godric feels it in his chest, as though his heart still beats. Go-go dancers dance on poles. Eric and Godric push through the crowd upon entry. Why Jure insisted they meet here is beyond Godric’s comprehension. 

It is Godric’s intention to wait for his old friend in a dark corner, but Eric has other plans. Eric’s purposeful hand slides along Godric’s waist as he leans down to speak into Godric’s ear, “Dansa med mig.” ‘Dance with me.’ 

Godric finds himself caught off guard. Godric does not make a habit of drawing attention to himself, this has always been true, but if he is honest with himself, this is not the only reason for his hesitation. “Om inte för mig, så för att smälta in,” ‘If not for me, then to blend in,’ Eric urges. 

Godric finds this offensive. “Allt är för dig.” All is for you.’ Eric raises a silent, testing brow and pulls Godric deeper into the crowd. Eric makes no effort to hide his possessiveness, keeping Godric pressed tightly against himself to keep others from touching him. This suits Godric just fine, he has no desire to be touched by anyone but Eric. Godric may be dreadfully sick of the nightlife, but he will never reject an opportunity to have Eric close. 

Godric is not one for dancing, but luckily, Eric is. Eric guides Godric’s hips, Godric holds onto Eric’s shoulders for support, and the rest comes naturally. This part of their Rio trip is not all bad, although Godric would more enjoy Eric’s closeness in privacy, where Eric’s beauty, his scent, his eyes, and his body are only for Godric to appreciate. 

Eric is always the most beautiful person in any room, and he does not have to make any effort to draw attention to himself here to do so. Godric quickly grows tired of wandering eyes and rests his forehead against Eric’s chest, closing his eyes. Godric breathes Eric in to ground himself. Eric is Godric’s home, the only ancestral land Godric needs to feel any sense of belongingness he lost all those centuries ago. 

Eric has all too much fun with this. It isn’t often that Eric has the opportunity to show Godric off, even if it is to a large room full of meaningless human men. Eric has taken advantage of their past few weeks in Rio, and none more than he does tonight in the gayest bar he’s managed to get Godric into. 

Eric parts from Godric only to remove their shirts to better blend in. Godric is hesitant, mouthing Eric’s name in protest too quietly to be heard by any other over the blaring music. Eric leans down to speak into Godric’s ear, “Du är vacker. Du har ingen anledning att skämmas.” ’You are beautiful. You have no reason to be ashamed.’

Godric does not wear his tattoos with pride, never has so long as Eric has known him, but even Godric has to admit they are overdressed even in nothing more than black jeans. “Titt,” ‘Look, ’ Eric nods toward the crowd. Godric, for the first time all night, takes a good look at the other bodies in the crowd. Godric first identifies that none are anywhere near as beautiful as Eric, and second that they all have tattoos on their skin, just as Godric does. Many have scars and even burns, but Godric is the only one branded. The difference is perhaps negligible to the inebriated humans here. 

“Det har gått två tusen år. Saker cha,” ‘ Two thousand years have passed. Things change,’ Eric tilts Godric’s chin up to look back into his eyes. Godric cannot deny Eric. Eric pulls Godric’s thin shirt off to tuck into his own back pocket. Eric pulls Godric close again, and Godric must admit to himself that Eric’s bare chest is an effective distraction from his insecure thoughts. Eric is well aware of the effect he has on Godric, and draws Godric out of his shell accordingly. 

It isn’t long before Godric’s hips move of their own accord. Eric’s features glow with the flashing strobe lights, illuminating his blond hair, pale skin, and blue eyes in different colors with each flash. Godric’s only appreciation for the music is that Eric’s body moves with it under Godric’s hands, and that drowns out all other thoughts. 

It isn’t long before Godric manages to stop thinking. This is a phenomenon Eric rarely witnesses. It is a thing of true beauty. Eric watches the burdens of the millennia melt away from Godric as he dances gracefully. It is a magic like no other, anyone can see it - and they certainly do. Godric dances with a magnetism that draws in far more eyes than Eric’s body does. Godric is something mystic, ancient, otherworldly; Godric is something that cannot be owned, tamed, burdened, or bonded. Godric is, in this moment, not vampire, slave, nor king. Godric is free in a way Eric wishes Godric could always be. 

Eric’s impatience fades away for a time. Godric’s old friend could never show and Eric would be happy to have Godric to himself forever, just like this: dancing, smiling, laughing. Godric and Eric enjoy themselves for what feels like only a few fleeting moments, but is in reality several hours, before a stray hand very nearly grabs Godric’s bare shoulder. Eric, ever-vigilant, has the wrist in a tight grip before Godric realizes what’s happened. The wrist remains unbroken despite the pressure Eric applies. 

“Godric, prijatelju moj,” ‘Godric, my friend,’ the man greets. Godric turns to face the familiar voice. Eric releases Jure begrudgingly. 

“Jure,” Godric greets cordially as Jure pulls him into a hug that Godric stiffens insecurely for. Eric knows instantly Godric’s burdens are already returned to him. Eric has never cared for Jure. 

“Znao sam da ćeš uživati ​​u ovome! Dođi,” ‘I knew you would enjoy this! Come, ’ Jure leads Godric and Eric through the crowd to a dark, quieter back room. 

Godric takes his shirt back from Eric and pulls it on quickly. Godric opts for English for Eric’s benefit, “Thank you for meeting us here. Eric, you remember Jure? Jure, my progeny Eric.”

“Jerusalem, 1282,” Jure offers his hand for Eric to shake. Eric does so firmly. “You were very young back then, no? Still just a child.” Jure’s Croatian accent is thick, but Eric does not miss the condescension. 

“That was many centuries ago,” Godric speaks up before Eric can say something regrettable. They all sit together in what Eric assumes is generally used as a VIP room, Godric’s thigh brushing Jure’s.

“Vidim to,” ‘I can see that,’ Jure eyes Eric’s bare chest curiously. Jure knows well that Eric is off limits, so he changes the topic. “Čemu dugujem ovo zadovoljstvo, moj dragi Godric? Nemam vijesti o vašem bratu. Još uvijek pravi kaos u Rusiji. Ljut zbog Korun.” ‘ To what do I owe this pleasure, my dear Godric? I have no news of your brother. Still causing chaos in Russia. Angry about Korun.’

“Ovdje smo zbog AVL posla i naše je vrijeme ograničeno. Tražimo vrlo starog vampira po imenu Warlow. Ako imaš bilo kakvu informaciju o ovome, prijatelju, bio bih ti dužnik,” ‘ We are here on AVL business, and our time is limited. We are looking for a very old vampire by the name of Warlow. If you have any information about this, my friend, I would be in your debt,’ Godric speaks more directly than he ordinarily would. “Please forgive my urgency.”

Jure looks at Godric in shocked silence for long enough to reveal how much he knows. “Warlow nije poznat. Warlow nije pronađen. Warlow je još stariji i moćniji od tebe, prijatelju. I tvoj brat” ‘Warlow is not known. Warlow is not found. Warlow is even older and more powerful than you, my friend. And your brother.’

Godric does show his fear. “Molim te, reci mi što znaš.” ‘Please, tell me what you know.’ Godric leans forward to rest his hand convincingly on Jure’s. Eric recognizes the touch intimately and tenses his jaw, but stays obediently still.

“Ne želim vas ugroziti.” ‘I do not wish to endanger you.’ Godric is unbudging. Jure shares urgently, fearfully, “Ovaj vampir nije kao drugi. Hoda po suncu. Ima moći kojima nikad nisam svjedočio.” ‘This vampire is not like the others. He walks in the sun. He has powers I have never before witnessed.’ Godric struggles to believe this, but Jure has no reason to lie in such absurd details. “Neki kažu da je potomak Lilit.” ‘Some say he is the progeny of Lillith.’ 

Jure hesitates before adding, “Čak ga je i tvoj tvorac izbjegavao.” ‘Even your Maker avoided him.’ Jure holds Godric’s hand with far too much familiarity. “Ispričavam se što ga spominjem. Molimo vas da shvatite da gazite opasnim vodama.” ‘ I apologize for mentioning him. Please understand that you are treading dangerous waters.’

Jure leans in closer to Godric to pull him closer by his shoulder. Jure whispers in his ear, “Pokazao se Fatimi prije tri mjeseca u Tokiju. On lovi vile.” ‘He showed himself to Fatima three months ago in Tokyo. He hunts fairies.’ Godric and Jure look into each other’s eyes, searching for motives. Eric imagines in detail pulling Jure’s eyes from their sockets. 

“Kakav kraj?” ‘To what end?’ Godric asks in a tone Eric has not heard in many, many years. Godric has Jure wrapped around his finger, as so many have been over the millennia. Godric could not better control Jure if he could glamour him. This has always been Godric’s way. 

Jure licks his lips and whispers into Godric’s ear, “Hibridna vojska.” ‘A hybrid army.’ Godric feels Jure mouth at his ear sensually, but is too lost in the implications of this to subtly pull away. “Ništa nisi čuo od mene. Nikad me nisi vidio ovdje. Imam alibi, razumiješ?” ‘You heard nothing from me. You never saw me here. I have alibi, you understand?’ 

“Thank you,” Godric touches the side of Jure’s neck lingeringly, intentionally all too close for comfort. 

“Završite svoj križarski rat sada. Vaša američka vlast ne može dobiti ovaj rat.” ‘End your crusade now. Your American Authority cannot win this war.’ Jure pleads selfishly, and clearly with sexual intentions, “Ili nećeš živjeti dovoljno dugo da mi vratiš dug.” ‘Or you will not live long enough to repay your debt to me.’ 

Godric nods in understanding and gives a subtly seductive smile that Jure knows all too well. Jure pats Godric’s cheek with a nostalgic smile and instructs, “Moraš ići sada.” ‘You must go now.’ 

Godric enacts careful control of his emotions, but takes great pleasure in leaving Jure as soon as possible. He stands, “Eric, it is time for us to go.” 

“Posjeti me sam sljedeći put,” ‘Visit me alone next time,’ Jure reminds Godric with a wink. Godric and Eric exit the room and push past the crowd to return to their hotel. 

“Väl?” ‘Well ?’ Eric asks as they walk down dark streets side by side. 

“Tokyo,” Godric answers quietly and avoids Eric’s eyes. Godric’s cell phone vibrates in his pocket. Godric resists the urge to throw the phone into the street. “Three months ago.” Godric answers the phone, “Isabel.” 

“We have a problem,” Isabel says efficiently. “I wouldn’t call you if it was not urgent.” 

“I understand. Ten minutes,” Godric ends the phone call. 

“Vad var det? Jure?’ What was that? Jure? ’ Eric asks Godric directly, impatiently. Eric could care less about the phone call, he wants to know precisely what Godric and Jure exchanged. 

“Politik,” ‘Politics,’ Godric explains simply, as he did so many centuries ago when Eric first was involved in Godric’s political dealings. 

Eric hates Godric’s answer, “Jag trodde att vi var förbi det.” ‘I thought we were past that.’ 

Godric does not have an answer Eric wants to hear. “Den gamla världens politik förblir oförändrad.” ‘The politics of the old world remain unchanged.’ Godric adds genuinely, “Jag är ledsen. Jag gillar det inte heller.” ‘I am sorry. I do not care for it either.” Godric wipes away the feeling of Jure from his ear with harsh fingers. 

Godric wants nothing more than to shower upon returning to the hotel room, but Isabel has other plans. “A witch coven in Shreveport is reportedly practicing dark magic. Resurrection.” Godric sits tiredly on a chair beside the bed as he and Eric listen over speakerphone, “It is suspected that they are developing this ability to attack vampires, as they did during the Inquisition. Bill Compton-” Eric groans audibly at the mention of his name. Isabel continues after a pause, “-has been reporting on the situation. I told him to stay out of it, but you know how he is.” 

Godric considers this only a moment before answering, “Eric and Isabel, I would like you to introduce yourselves as allies to this coven. I would like Bill Compton to remove himself from the situation and cease contact with the coven. I will return to Shreveport next week, at which point I will introduce myself to the coven leader personally and offer support as needed.”

“Next week?” Eric asks in irritation. “Du kommer inte att åka till Tokyo utan mig.” ‘ You will not go to Tokyo without me.’  

“Eric will be back in Shreveport tomorrow night. Thank you, Isabel,” Godric ends the call quickly so he and Eric can speak freely. “Behaga.” ‘Please.’

“Inga,” “No,’ Eric bickers before Godric has even the chance to explain himself. “Vad sa den kroatiska ormen till dig?” ‘What did that Croatian snake say to you?’ 

“Warlow var i Tokyo för tre månader sedan. Jag måste träffa Fatima för att fråga henne.” ‘Warlow was in Tokyo three months ago. I need to meet with Fatima to question her.’ Godric speaks lowly, quietly, having no desire to argue with Eric. Godric should know by now that if Eric wants to argue, he will have his argument. 

“Fatima är en fascistisk hora! Hennes enda konkurrens är jävla Salome!” “Fatima is a fascist whore! Her only competition is Salome!” Eric antagonizes. “Varför vill du inte ha mig i Tokyo? Vad sa han till dig?” ‘ Why don’t you want me in Tokyo? What did he say to you?’ 

“Eric, sluta här-” ‘ Eric, stop this-’ Godric tries to calm Eric in vain. 

“Vad sa han?!” ‘ What did he say?!’ Eric shouts at Godric emotionally. 

Godric does not react. It is far from the first time Eric shouted at Godric in anger, and surely, it is far from the last. Godric only looks at Eric silently until he can self-regulate. Eric huffs and leans forward with elbows on his knees. He explains more calmly, “Jure är en jävla krypa. Han har alltid varit en jävla tönt. Jag litar inte på honom, och det borde inte du heller.” ‘Jure is a fucking creep. He has always been a fucking creep. I don't trust him, and neither should you.’ 

Godric nods, “Jag vet det här.” ‘I know this.’ Eric waits impatiently for Godric to explain. “Jure sa samma sak som Korun sa: hybrid.” ‘Jure said the same thing as Korun: hybrid.’ Eric bites the inside of his cheek. “Warlow samlar på övernaturliga varelser, som Korun och... och förvandlar dem till vampyrer.” ‘Warlow collects supernatural beings, like Korun did. and... and turns them into vampires.’ Eric knows before Godric says it, “Sookie.” 

Sookie has been missing from this plane of existence for a year, since shortly after Russell Edgington’s concrete burial. Warlow may have very well taken her, and surely would have made a vampire of her by now. 

“Skit,” ‘Shit,’ Eric bangs the coffee table with the palm of his hand and stands to pace the room. Eric knows he has no choice. “Ta med Tara till Tokyo.” ‘Take Tara to Tokyo.’ Godric furrows his brow in confusion, so Eric goes on, “Om det inte är någon fara och din enda avsikt är att ifrågasätta Fatima, ta med Tara. Hon kommer inte att vara till någon nytta för Sookie mot Warlow i alla fall.” ‘If there is no danger and your only intention is to question Fatima, bring Tara. She won't be of any use to Sookie against Warlow anyway.’ 

Eric pauses and rolls his eyes, adding for sentiment he knows Godric cannot resist, “Hon saknar dig.” ‘She misses you.’ If Eric cannot go with Godric to protect him from advances from the ancients, at least Godric’s youngest will provide an adequate excuse for Godric to reject any proposals. 

As predicted, Godric cannot refuse the compromise, “Okej.” ‘Okay.’ Godric stands and joins Eric where he stands by the window. The sun will soon rise. Godric gently rests a hand on Eric’s shoulder, “Förlåt mig, snälla, min Eric.” ‘Forgive me, please, my Eric.’ Eric only looks out the window at the city lights. “Behaga.” ‘Please.’

Eric will not deny Godric. “För tusen år sedan var detta vad det betydde att vara en vampyr. Jag vet det här, men jag hatade det då, och jag gillar det ännu mindre nu. Det är förnedrande. Du är bättre än så här. Jag är inte absurd när jag ber dig att inte delta.”    ‘ A thousand years ago, this was what it meant to be a vampire. I know this, but I hated it then, and I like it even less now. It is degrading. You are better than this. I am not being absurd when I ask you not to participate.’  

“Allt jag gjorde ikväll var att påminna Jure om det förflutna. Jag har ingen avsikt att återuppleva det.” ‘All I did tonight was remind Jure of the past. I have no intention of reliving it.’ Godric informs Eric. He takes no offense to Eric’s accusation: it is entirely understandable. “Ást-karr, förlåt mig för vårt förflutnas synder.” ‘ Love-dear, forgive me the sins of our past.’ Eric is surprised to hear Godric suggest such a thing. 

“För tusen år sedan var jag bara känd som en slav och en förrädare. Jag hade ingen makt. Jag hade inga allierade. Jag hade fört dig in i en värld utan möjligheter. Vi matade på björnar. Jag använde det jag kunde erbjuda för att uppfylla mitt ansvar gentemot dig. Det är allt,” ‘A thousand years ago I was known only as a slave and a traitor. I had no power. I had no allies. I had brought you into a world of no opportunities. We fed on bears. I used what I had to offer to honor my responsibility to you. That is all,’ Godric explains for the first time. “Jag skulle ha gjort vad som helst för dig, men jag är för alltid ledsen för smärtan jag orsakade dig.” ‘I would have done anything for you, but I am forever sorry for the pain I caused you.’ 

Eric is speechless. He does not turn to face Godric. “Varför känner jag att jag fortfarande förlorar dig?” ‘Why do I feel like I am still losing you?’ Godric does not have the answer Eric wants. 

All Godric can do to convince Eric is his heart, “Ta mee son dy bragh mayrt.” ‘I am forever with you.’  

Eric turns to wrap an arm around Godric’s shoulders, “Det finns inget att förlåta. Du ger allt för dem du älskar. Jag kan inte klandra dig för din natur.” ‘There is nothing to forgive. You give everything for the ones you love. I cannot fault you for your nature.’ 

Godric leans into Eric’s side, feeling deeply comforted by this simple gesture, “Men?” ‘But?’

Eric chooses his words carefully. “Snälla skicka mig inte iväg.” ‘Please do not send me away.’ Eric sounds so very small. Eric knows he is needed in Louisiana, knows this is the best option, but the part of his heart that is still young and foolish cannot accept this. “Jag vill inte sakna dig längre. Någonsin igen.” ‘I wish not to miss you any longer. Ever again.’

Godric’s heart aches for Eric. Godric pulls Eric close, his head nuzzling against Godric’s neck as Eric’s long arms wrap around Godric to hold him tightly. The last year has been a difficult one for many reasons, but Eric has softened with Godric’s return. Eric is soothed more than Godric knows by his presence alone. 

Even so, it is a rare occurrence for Eric to allow himself to be this vulnerable, even for Godric. Eric lived his human life in pride, arrogance, and ego. Godric has no more intention to change Eric’s nature as Eric does Godric’s. “Snälla, förlåt mig,” ‘Please, forgive me,’ Godric whispers as he holds Eric close. “Vi kommer snart att vara tillsammans. Jag svär dig.” ‘We will be together again soon. I swear to you.’ 

The tender moment does not last long. Eric’s hands wander to Godric’s hips as he kisses Godric’s neck with intention. Godric cannot fault Eric his nature, and he will not deny Eric this. “Mitt blod finns i dig. Jag är med dig alltid.” ‘My blood is in you. I am with you always.’ The intensity between them from the club tonight suddenly returns, and they kiss urgently. “Ta mig djupare ikväll. Smaka i mitt blod att jag är din.” ‘Take me deeper tonight. Taste in my blood that I am yours.’

Eric does so, gladly. Eric grabs Godric’s hair roughly and plunges his fangs into Godric’s neck greedily. A small moan escapes Godric. If this is all Eric can have of Godric while Godric is halfway across the world, Eric will take and cherish and fill himself with Godric’s blood. “Blodet är heligt, Eric,” ‘The blood is sacred, Eric,’ Godric vows to Eric, pleasure clear in his voice. Fingers grasp tightly onto Eric’s arm and shoulder to brace himself, “Ta mee son dy bragh mayrt.” ‘I am forever with you.’

Eric’s nature, as it was even before Godric, is to smother all the sadness, fear, rage, and love in his heart with pleasure and war. This is Eric’s heart that Godric has known and loved for a millennia, and plans to continue knowing and loving for many millennia to come. Godric is not in any way surprised for Eric to take what he wants from Godric; Godric gives it gladly.

Godric only just begins to feel the loss of blood when Eric’s mouth finds Godric’s once again. Godric feels a lightness in his head he rarely experiences. Godric and Eric kiss fiercely, fangs clanging and hips moving together. They are suddenly on the hotel bed, Eric pressing Godric’s body against the soft mattress with his weight. Godric pulls Eric closer as they rut against one another, still far too clothed. 

Eric’s hand pins Godric’s thin wrists above his head against the bed. Eric grasps Godric’s neck with a choking grip. Eric and Godric share dark, lusty eye contact as Eric claims his maker, “Du… är… min.” ‘You… are… mine.’ Godric lifts his chin to pull Eric into another deep, rough kiss. Godric feels Eric’s fang puncture his lip, more blood smearing between their mouths. Eric skillfully removes their clothes as their bodies find their way back to one another.

In a swift movement, Godric has Eric’s back flat against the bed. Godric’s hands hold Eric’s hips down tightly as he takes Eric’s length into his mouth. Eric grasps onto Godric’s hair, forcefully pulling Godric deeper onto himself until Godric’s nose is nuzzled firmly into Eric’s low curls. Godric would surely choke if he required air. Godric works his mouth around Eric as Eric bobs his head in smooth, controlled motions. 

Godric eagerly takes Eric as deeply as he possibly can with each thrust, struggled deep moans from each of them filling the room. Eric’s thigh moves intentionally between Godric’s legs, bringing Godric pleasure as well. It is no secret between them that Godric requires very little to be pleasured by Eric. It is an effort for Godric to keep his fangs from drawing Eric’s blood; this is not the time. Godric has all he needs simply to listen to Eric’s pleasure, he does not need to taste it. 

“Bli min ikväll,” ‘Be mine this night,’ Eric commands, his eyes closed and his face twisted in pleasure. Godric rakes the tips of his fangs along the skin on Eric’s length as he lifts his head. Eric groans and squeezes the back of Godric’s neck tightly. Godric’s hips mount Eric’s with intention, but Eric has him pressed against the bed beneath him before Godric can fill himself with Eric. 

“Du är min att ta, Godric,” ‘You are mine to take, Godric,’ Eric corrects as he presses Godric’s face into the soft mattress with a large hand on the back of Godric’s head. Godric feels Eric press thick fingers between his cheeks and smiles breathily around his fangs. “Min att ha. Min att veta. Ditt hjärta är mitt ensamt.” ‘Mine to have. Mine to know. Your heart is mine alone.’ Even in the heat of passion, pressing his anger into Godric’s welcoming body, Eric cannot contain his love for Godric. “Säg det.” ‘Say it.’

Godric loves Eric with all he is. Godric loves Eric with even the parts of himself he hides from Eric, the parts too old, broken, and used to risk affecting Eric with. Godric loves Eric with the parts of himself falsely claimed by others centuries before Eric ever existed. Godric loves Eric with the most evil, soulless parts of himself. Godric loves Eric with the parts of himself altogether lost to time. 

Godric moves with the rhythm of Eric’s fingers within him. Godric cannot see Eric work behind him, but takes deep pleasure in his presence, his scent, his touch. Godric can do little more than writhe beneath Eric, grasp onto the covers beneath him, and resist the urge to throw Eric onto the floor and impatiently bring their pleasure to them. Control is Eric’s to take now. 

Eric suddenly removes his fingers from Godric, and Godric gasps at the loss. Eric firmly steadies Godric’s hips and demands, “Säg det.” ‘Say it.’  

Godric complies, his voice weak, “Jag är din, som du är min, ást-kær.” ‘I am yours, as you are mine, love-dear.’ Eric grasps the back of Godric’s neck once more. Godric feels only pleasure, everywhere. He craves Eric desperately, but he would say these words any day, as they are entirely true, “Mitt hjärta har bara någonsin varit ditt. Detta kommer alltid att vara sant.” ‘My heart has only ever been yours. This will always be true.’

Eric presses only the tip of himself against Godric’s needy hole, drawing out Godric’s labored patience. “Ta mig, min Eric,” ‘Take me, my Eric,’ Godric pleads in an especially gentle tone he saves only for Eric. “Snälla, ta mig,” ‘Please, take me,’ Godric very nearly whines. “Ta hela mig. Jag är din.” ‘Take all of me. I am yours.’ 

Eric presses himself into Godric all too slowly, slowing their eager pleasure. He holds Godric’s hips with one hand and his wrists against the small of his back with his other, feigning control over him. At this moment, regardless of Godric’s true power, Eric has all the control he needs. Godric gladly gives it to him again and again. 

Eric leans over Godric as he finally presses entirely inside of him. Godric cries out a pleasured whimper against the bedsheets. Eric is inside Godric and all around him, Godric feels only Eric. It is as close to heaven as Godric will ever come, and the only heaven he would ever dare ask for.

The anger within Eric stills, replaced with a peace only Godric can give him. Eric kisses the Roman brand on Godric’s right shoulder with a softness only Eric has ever shown Godric. Godric stills beneath Eric, calmed in a trusting way he has only ever felt in Eric’s arms. Eric’s darkened eyes take in Godric’s beauty for only a fleeting moment before his hips find a quick pace. Eric buries his fangs in Godric’s red, burned skin to greedily drink his blood as he fucks Godric with a possessive vigor.

Godric is certain he feels his heart beat to the sound of Eric’s hips against his own.

Godric opens for Eric in his entirety, pouring out blood and love and pleasure for him. Eric takes all Godric gives him, until Godric is all but drained of energy and blood. Still, Godric gives love to Eric. “Min kärlek,” ‘My love,’ Godric moans nonsensically. “Min ást-kær, min Eric, mitt allt,” ‘My love-dear, my Eric, my everything,’ he worships Eric with each thrust. 

Godric trusts Eric with all he is, and Eric does not fail him. Eric turns Godric onto his back, a firm hand on Godric’s jaw to command silently for his eyes to be on Eric as Eric continues to fuck into him. Eric kisses Godric sweetly as Godric’s lips weakly return love to Eric. Eric kisses along the side of Godric’s neck up to his temple. Godric’s hands finally card their way delicately into Eric’s hair. Eric accepts Godric’s gentleness. 

Eric presses his wrist to Godric’s lips, commanding, “Foder.” ‘Feed.’ Godric’s fangs pierce Eric’s skin with a ferocity he should not be capable of with as little blood as Eric has left him with. Godric drinks Eric’s blood rapidly with a disarming grip on Eric’s bicep and forearm. Drained of blood, Godric could still easily defeat Eric in a fight. Eric is reminded of the depth of Godric’s strength. 

Eric watches Godric feed from him in awe. Godric watches Eric’s eyes with lust and deep affection for his Viking. Godric does not have to vocalize his request for Eric to obey: Eric’s hips pick up speed and strength as his fangs dive into Godric’s chest, exposing heart’s blood. Eric does not waste a drop. It tastes like home. 

This lasts only a moment or two before they find their ending together. Eric earns sounds from Godric he rarely has the pleasure of hearing, although Eric hardy has the sense to silence himself to listen to Godric’s beautiful moans muffled against Eric’s bleeding wrist. 

Eric does not know how he will part from Godric tomorrow night.

Chapter Text

16

-

Jerusalem, ~52 B.C.

Godric does not care to travel. This was true when the Roman soldiers once took him from all he knew years ago, and it is true now. At his master's villa, on even the worst days, Godric at least has access to food, water, and other basic necessities to care for his human body. Traveling, his master has a tendency to forget Godric cannot survive on his blood alone. By the time they reach Jesualem, Godric is famished, parched, and would certainly have succumbed to exhaustion if not for his master’s magic blood in Godric’s veins. 

Godric began to hallucinate yesterday. This tends to happen when Godric survives on magic blood alone. Godric sees the Druids from his early childhood chanting as they did hours before his village was destroyed. Godric sees the Roman soldier that ripped him from his home and deemed him valuable enough to keep alive - who Godric would come to know as Remus. Godric sees his mother’s dead eyes stare at him blindly as they did the last time Godric saw her lying lifelessly in the grass. 

Every part of Godric’s body hurts. Still, Godric does not show emotion. Godric obeys his master silently and precisely. 

“Valde felix es, puer;” ‘You are very lucky, boy,’ Godric’s master says, as he always does when they finally arrive in a new place. Godric does not respond in word or action, and this suits his master well. “Non multi servi mundum sicut te videbunt.” ‘Not many slaves see the world as you do.’ Godric does not understand why his master says this.

Godric does not feel relief upon reaching their destination, for he knows his purpose here. Godric follows closely behind his master as he meets with the master of this home. Godric does not listen closely as they speak, the content of their words is meaningless to Godric’s purpose here. 

That is, until he is introduced to the individual he will serve for the duration of the trip. A woman of great beauty and power takes Godric’s hand to guide him away from his master. “Veni, servus puer,” ‘Come, slave boy,’ her Latin is poor, but Godric understands. First and foremost, the woman introduces herself as Fatima and brings Godric to eat and bathe. “Viri, sic ... imprudentes,” ‘Men, so… careless,’ she criticizes, and Godric cannot decide whether she insults Godric or his master. 

When Fatima inevitably brings Godric to her bed chambers, she criticizes again, “Stoicismus. Passionem praefero,” ‘Stoicism. I prefer passion,’ Fatima informs Godric. Rather than controlling Godric’s mind as all the others do, Fatima patiently shows Godric what she asks of him, and Godric obeys easily. She brings his calloused palm to hold her silky cheek as she kisses him deeply. When Godric brings Fatima’s pleasure, it does not cost Godric suffering. Fatima does not enjoy inflicting pain as Godric’s master does. Godric did not know his pain was unnecessary for the pleasure of another before Fatima. 

Godric would prefer not to be touched at all, but of all the vampires the road to Jerusalem may have led Godric to, he is glad to have found Fatima. Fatima is kind in ways he did not know vampires could be. Before Godric and his master return to Rome, Fatima brings Godric to the sea simply to sit beside him and bask in its power. It is the first time Godric sees the water since the Roman soldiers took him from Gaul. When Godric’s eyes well up in tears at its beauty, Fatima praises Godric for his emotion.

-

Kyoto, 2010

“This is so fuckin’ awesome,” Tara repeats again. The flight to Tokyo was Tara’s first airplane ride, as it turns out, and she found the experience exilirating. They are on a train now, traveling to Kyoto to meet Fatima. “I can’t believe this is happening. This is so cool.” Godric sits quietly with his eyes closed as Tara gawks out the window. “I wish we could stay longer. This is just… so awesome.” Tara can’t understand why Godric isn’t enjoying this, too.

“Eric is fine,” Tara assures Godric seemingly randomly. “Bet you right now, Eric’s all like, ‘Pam, I can’t believe I’m stuck in Bon Temps and Tara gets to go to Japan.’” Godric doesn’t need to respond for Tara to know she hit a nerve. “Have you and Eric, like, always been together?”

Godric answers quietly, “Mm. Something like that.” Godric peaks an eye open to look at Tara, confident she will not stop until Godric gives his attention to her, “How is Naomi?” 

Tara rolls her eyes, “She’s… amazing, but don’t change the subject. What’s wrong with you? Pissed off Eric again?” Godric does not respond. “You know, you need to stop taking that shit so serious. It’s not your fault Eric’s an asshole.” Godric only curiously watches as Tara shares a one-sided conversation. “Okay, I’m sorry I said that. I know you don’t like it when I talk shit about him. But I’m right. No reason you need to be down just because Eric’s got a permanent attitude.” 

Tara just can’t help herself from repeating, “You know, Lafayette still has nightmares about what Eric did to him. He’s not gonna do it again, right? Just because you’re here. He knows where you are. Lafayette had nothing to do with it.” 

Tara sighs, “I know you told Eric not to hurt him. I just- Does it really work like that? I would totally abuse that if I were you.” Godric is quiet. 

“Hey.” Tara softens, “You’re scarin’ me. What’s going on with you? What happened in Rio?”

Godric opens his eyes and looks at Tara with sad eyes. He can’t seem to find more to say than, “I’m sorry.”

“You can talk to me,” Tara offers. “I can keep a secret. I owe you, anyway. Lord knows I’ve told you my fair share of secrets.”

Godric feels only shame and heartache. It is not for Tara to be burdened with. An automated voice informs train passengers that the train is pulling into the Kyoto station. “Come,” Godric instructs Tara. He stands to pull her bag from the overhead compartment for her.

“How do you know Japanese, anyway?” Tara asks curiously. She stands and takes her bag from Godric with a quiet appreciation. 

Godric and Tara move toward the exit. “Eric and I lived here for a time. There was no bullet train then,” Godric jokes lightly. 

It isn’t long before Godric and Tara arrive at Fatima’s building. An assistant greets them and converses shortly with Godric. The woman hands Tara a bottle of Tru Blood, which she does not hesitate to drink quickly. “Why does the Tru Blood taste better here? Like, so much better?” Tara asks when the bottle is nearly empty. The assistant leads them down winding halls. Tara sits beside Eric in a windowless room with a long table and many chairs. “Why does America suck?” 

Godric does not begin to know how to effectively answer this question. “Colonization. Do you recall what I told you earlier about this meeting?” 

Tara nods, “‘Course. Shut up and look pretty.” She laughs at her own joke, “Kidding. It’s real important and Fatima probably doesn’t speak any English, but don’t say anything I wouldn’t want her to hear.” Godric nods, encouraging Tara to continue. “And be patient.”

“And?” Godric encourages gently. 

Tara smiles and nudges Godric’s arm playfully, “And trust you. You don’t need to remind me, you know I do.” 

Godric gives Tara a reassuring nod, but does not return her smile, “Thank you. It will be quick.” 

The large doors open and a beautiful woman enters joyfully, “Godric!” Godric stands to greet Fatima politely, but Fatima has other plans. Fatima surprises Godric with a passionate kiss on his mouth. Godric reminds himself quickly of his intentions here and pulls Fatima closer, deepening the kiss. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. The kiss is skilled, practiced, intimate. Godric misses Eric with a sickness in his core. Tara is shocked for more reasons than she can comprehend right now.

“Godric, aşkım, seni gördüğüme çok sevindim! Seni özledim,” ‘ Godric, my love, I am overjoyed to see you! I have missed you,’ Fatima gushes in Turkish as she kisses each of Godric’s cheeks. “Bu mutluluğu neye borçluyum?” ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ 

“Fatıma'm,” ’ My Fatima,’ Godric expresses with far more passion than he truly feels. “Bu benim iş ortağım Tara.” ‘This is my associate, Tara.’ Fatima holds her hand out to Tara, “Tara, this is Fatima, an old friend of mine.” 

Godric takes Fatima’s hand affectionately, “Fatima, lütfen otur. Sana çok kişisel bir iyilik için geldim. Bana yardım etmeye gönüllü olursan sana çok şey borçlu olurum.” ‘Fatima, please sit. I have come to you for a very personal favor. If you would be willing to help me, I would be greatly indebted to you.’ 

“Bana borçlu musun? Hatırlarsan, sevgilim, sana uzun zamandır borçluyum.” ‘You owe me? If you remember, my love, I have been in your debt for a long time.’ Fatima sits with her hand on Godric’s arm. Godric rests his hand on Fatima’s knee, his fingers tenderly massaging her skin. Tara struggles to keep a poker face, but Fatima’s attention is all Godric’s now, anyway.

“Eğer haddimi aşarsam lütfen beni affet canım. Warlow ismi sana bir şey ifade ediyor mu?” ‘Please forgive me if I overstep my bounds, my dear. Does the name Warlow mean anything to you?’ Godric asks all too directly. 

Fatima is taken aback. “Godric, onu kızdırmadığını söyle bana,” ‘Godric, tell me you have not angered him,’ Fatima pleads. She leans forward to cup Godric’s cheek. 

“Ona bir… teklifim var,” ‘I have a… proposition for him,’ Godric leans his cheek into Fatima’s hand. “Onu nasıl bulabilirim?” ‘How can I find him?’ Godric turns his head to kiss Fatima’s wrist. 

Fatima shakes her head, her passion turning slightly to anger, “Ve eğer Warlow sana Gerçek Ölümü gösterirse? Bunu vicdanımla nasıl kabul edebilirim?” ‘And if Warlow shows you the True Death? How can I go on with this on my conscience?’ 

“Beni bundan daha iyi tanıyorsun. Düşman edinmem, sadece... dost edinirim. Çok iyi dost edinirim,” ‘You know me better than this. I do not make enemies, I make… friends. I make very good friends,’ Godric distracts Fatima yet again. Tara can’t see Godric’s hand slowly, shamelessly making its way up Fatima’s thigh. 

Fatima smiles knowingly, “Warlow kolay kolay memnun olan biri değil. Warlow, kendine özgü zevkleri olan bir vampirdir.” ‘Warlow is not so easily pleased. Warlow is a vampire with particular tastes.’

“Bana onu nasıl memnun edeceğimi söyle,” ‘Tell me how to please him,’ Godric requests, his voice taking a tone Tara has never heard before. Fatima giggles and begins to whisper secrets into Godric’s ear. Fatima makes eye contact with Tara to give her a wink, as though Tara is at all part of this. Tara keeps her eyes on her Tru Blood until Godric finishes his task. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

Godric is very quiet as they return to their hotel room. Tara is, too. “How could you do that to Eric?” Tara finally asks Godric, still shocked by what she just witnessed. “Listen, Eric ain’t my favorite person and maybe he does deserve it, but Godric, how could you?” 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Godric prepares two glasses of Tru Blood from the hotel mini fridge as Tara goes on. “Also, you like… women?” 

Godric hands Tara a glass of Tru Blood and checks his cell phone again. Eric has not responded to Godric’s previous text message in several hours, which is uncharacteristic of him. Godric sets down the phone and leans against a hotel chair to sip at his own glass. “May I explain?” Tara nods and gestures for Godric to continue.

“This is the way the Ancients… communicate politically. I met Fatima a thousand years before Eric was born. Prior to tonight, I last saw her seven hundred years ago. I have no intention to… be with Fatima any more than I absolutely must.” Godric does not know how to explain this in a way Tara will understand. “I… ‘like’… only Eric. This has always been true. He knows this,” Godric explains honestly. “I am sorry you were privy to this tonight.” 

Tara is not entirely convinced, and she doesn’t understand. “Fatima would have been offended if I did not reciprocate her affection, and she would not have given me the information we came here for. This does not mean I enjoyed it. Any of it. I did not. Nor did I ever, even thousands of years ago.” This, Tara believes. 

“What happened with Fatima a thousand years before Eric was born?” Tara asks pointedly. Godric does not care to talk about these things, especially with Tara, who is so young and dependent on Godric. Tara is too young to see Godric as weak as he was back then. 

It is then that Godric feels it. A pain incomparable to that of silver or the sun. As though a hand is ripping his heart from his chest. All the fear Godric has ever known and more. No amount of counting or faux breathing can keep Godric from panicking. Godric does not even notice the tears on his cheeks. “Godric, are you okay? What’s wrong, what is it?”

“Eric,” Godric hears himself say as the world shatters around him, "My Eric." Godric does all he can do - he calls Pamela on his cell phone. 

“Godric, what’s happening?” Pamela asks. Of course, she is feeling it, too. Of course, she would never have felt this before.

“Eric är i fara. Hitta honom nu, det finns ingen tid att slösa. Han är tänkt att vara på MoonGoddess med Isabel,” ‘ Eric is in danger. Find him now, there is no time to waste. He is meant to be at MoonGoddess with Isabel,’ Godric quickly informs. The phone call ends immediately, Pamela is on the hunt for Eric. 

Godric sets down the phone and looks out the UV-protected window. The sun will rise before Godric could even reach the sea. He is helpless but to feel Eric's loss. Of all the shame Godric has collected over the centuries, this is surely the closest to his heart.

Chapter Text

17

-

Sweden, ~930 A.D.

Death is quiet, Eric soon learns upon entering his afterlife. Death is quiet when Eric wakes for the first time in his slender, tattooed arms deep in the dirt. Death is quiet as he teaches Eric to run faster than birds can fly. Death is quiet as Eric asks far too many meaningless questions.

When Eric and Death finally stumble upon a lone, wandering huntsman, Death silently instructs Eric to remain hidden in the trees, and Eric obeys. Eric watches Death approach the stranger and, miraculously, convinces the stranger to remain perfectly still without a single spoken word. Death silently gestures for Eric to join him, and Eric obeys. 

Death tilts the stranger’s head to the side, exposing his pale neck. The stranger melts in Death’s touch. Death’s fingers wrap around the back of Eric’s neck as Death’s dark eyes find Eric’s. Eric surely feels just as the strange man does: entirely captivated by Death. Eric’s eyes find the man’s neck. Eric hears his pulse over the high winds. Eric feels the heat of his body without touch. 

Eric is reminded of the night Death took him. Eric once again feels Death’s mouth on his neck, hands on his limp body, tastes Death’s blood on his tongue. Eric impossibly craves Death.

Death pulls Eric’s face closer and closer to the stranger’s neck until a new instinct takes over. Eric kills the man in seconds, all blood stolen from his body. The body drops to the ground. Death is gentle as he wipes a stray drop of blood from the corner of Eric’s mouth with his dirty thumb and tastes only a drop of the huntsman’s blood, perhaps only to share the experience with Eric. 

Eric feels, beyond explanation, a deep craving for Death even now as they stand above the lifeless body of the huntsman. This craving never passes. 

-

Bon Temps, 2010

Godric has hardly spoken a word on the return trip to America. Eric is alive. Sookie is alive. Isabel is missing. Pamela is beside herself with grief. 

Godric is at Sookie’s home in Bon Temps no more than a matter of moments after the sun sets. He knocks gently on the door, though he is expected. According to Sookie, Eric has been highly reactive and very confused since she found him alone in the woods. Godric keeps the same calm about him he always does, but it is not an easy task tonight. 

Sookie opens the door slowly and breathes a sigh of relief to see Godric. “Thank God,” Sookie pulls Godric into a hug. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Godric.” Godric only looks past Sookie for Eric. “Eric’s still asleep,” Sookie informs, encouraging Godric to keep quiet to avoid disrupting Eric. “He’s fine. Mostly.”

Sookie pulls back to look at Godric. He’s quiet, even for Godric. Sookie sees something on his face she doesn’t think she’s seen before. Sookie wonders for the first time just how young Godric was when he became a vampire. “Come in, we oughta talk,” Sookie encourages. Godric follows Sookie to her living room, although he desperately wants to search for Eric and see for himself that he is safe.

“I didn’t want to call and tell you while you were stuck in a shoe box flying over the Pacific ocean, but you should know. Last night, he killed my fairy godmother and drank all her blood and got, like, drunk? He was out in the sunlight for at least an hour. He was fighting gators until Alcide and I could wrangle him in,” Sookie blurts out, having no idea how to say all that in a sensitive way. “But he’s alright now. Just exhausted. Maybe hungover.” 

Godric only nods in understanding. “I am sorry for the death of your godmother. And welcome back. We missed you very much,” Godric speaks sincerity he no longer feels. Godric’s mind is scattered and frantic. The panic never entirely left. All Godric can feel now is for Eric. 

Sookie touches Godric’s shoulder gently, sensing his distance, “He’s okay. He will be, I think. He’s actually kind of…” Sookie tries to explain, “You know that part of Eric that’s kind of… just plain mean? That’s gone. He’s actually sort of really sweet. It’s weird. Eric, but not Eric.” Godric does not know where to begin understanding the implications of this. 

“Whatever that witch did to him, we can get her to undo. I know we can, I’ve just had my hands full with Eric and my granddad, and fuckin’ Bill. I thought we could come up with a plan first,” Sookie suggests.  

Godric hears Eric enter the room. Godric remains seated and calm, not wanting to frighten Eric as Pamela did. Eric is frightened nonetheless. “Snookie, this is- this is him, it’s Godric, the one from my dream-” Eric looks right into Godric’s eyes as he has done countless times before over the millennia, and Eric fears him. A thousand years of faith and love erased from Eric overnight. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Godric feels his heart break in a way he has never felt before. All Godric can do is keep the emotion from his face, and it is no easy task.

Eric wears clothes that do not belong to him. Eric has blood stains on his cheeks, and looks exhausted. Godric has never seen Eric this way. “Eric, shut the fuck up, you’re being rude,” Sookie insists as she stands to greet Eric. “This is Godric, he’s your Maker. And your king, technically. And your… You know him, so quit acting like that. And my name is not Snookie, for the thousandth time.”

Eric finds himself trapped. He drops to his knee before Godric respectfully and bows his head silently. Godric’s instincts urge him to pull Eric close and hold him, and maybe to cry in his arms. “My King,” Eric acknowledges respectfully. “Please, forgive me. I’m… My mind is not right. I mean no offense.”

Godric desperately misses Eric, although he is right here before him. Godric misses his taunting, his teasing, his cruel words, his fury, his impulsivity. Godric feels overwhelmed in a way a vampire should never succumb to. 1, 2, 3-

Godric stands before Eric and touches his temple with a feather light touch. Eric flinches ever so slightly from Godric. Godric removes his hand quickly, “Min lilla, är du skadad?” ‘My little one, are you hurt?’ Godric’s voice is low, weak under the weight of the terror.

Eric looks up at Godric and shakes his head. Something is different in Eric’s eyes, something Godric does not recognize. “Nej, jag mår bra. Förlorat, men bra. Sookie har tagit hand om mig.” ‘No, I am well. Lost, but well. Sookie has cared for me well.’ Godric trusts Sookie did the best she could in Godric’s absence. 

“Förlorad?” ‘Lost? ’ Godric asks gently. “Är du rädd?” ‘Are you afraid?’ Eric looks back down again and nods. This is something Eric has not before admitted to Godric, ever. “Jag kände din rädsla. Jag kom så snart som möjligt. Jag är så ledsen att jag inte var bredvid dig.” ‘I felt your fear. I came as soon as possible. I am so sorry I was not beside you sooner.’ Godric and Eric sit in silence for a moment, searching for their footing with one another. “Vi kan återvända hem nu.” ‘We can return home now.’ 

“Är jag ond?” ‘Am I evil?’ Eric asks intensely. Godric has no idea what the implications of this are. 1, 2, 3-

Godric is caught off guard. He looks into Eric’s large blue eyes curiously, seeing only innocence behind his eyes. “Varför skulle du fråga något sådant, min Eric?” ‘Why would you ask such a thing, my Eric?’

Eric looks like he might begin to cry again. “Jag såg dig i mina drömmar. Du sa till mig att jag är ond och inte kan älska.” ‘I saw you in my dreams. You told me I am evil, and cannot love.’ Godric shares a concerned expression with Sookie. “Du fick mig att mata från Sookie, och jag-” ‘You made me feed from Sookie, and I-’ Eric suddenly silences. Tears fall. “Jag saknade dig.” ‘I missed you.’ Godric does not know what to make of this. 

“Sookie säger att jag är ond. Att jag sårar människor, och njuter av det. Jag är rädd om mig själv,” ‘Sookie says I am evil. That I hurt people, and enjoy it. I am afraid of myself,’ Eric explains. “Jag mördade en älva igår kväll. Jag kunde inte kontrollera mig själv. Jag är ledsen, men jag kan inte ta tillbaka det.” ‘I murdered a fairy last night. I could not control myself. I am sorry, but I cannot take it back.’

Godric smooths Eric’s hair back soothingly and encourages quietly, “Shhh… Det är mitt fel. Skyll inte på dig själv.” ‘Shhh… It is my fault, do not blame yourself.’ Eric finds comfort in Godric’s touch despite his nightmare. Godric tenderly wipes Eric’s tears away. Eric does not flinch this time. 

Never has Godric witnessed such regret in Eric, and it frightens him. “Du är min. Du är vilsen, och jag har inte varit här för att ta hand om dig. Jag är här nu. Jag lämnar inte din sida.” ‘You are mine. You are lost, and I have not been here to care for you. I am here now. I will not leave your side.’

Eric silently considers Godric’s words. “Sookie?” Eric asks softly, “Do you trust Godric? He is… good?” Eric does not trust Godric. Godric feels sick. 

Sookie scoffs, “I trust him a hell of a lot more than I trust you.” Eric winces vaguely. Sookie reminds Eric, “We talked about this last night, remember? All night. I didn’t get a lick of sleep, if you recall. I’m not doing this again tonight. So you listen to me, you crazy Viking: Godric is the best person I know, human or vampire. I am not a 2,000 year old vampire, I can’t make you not kill people. Godric can. Go home, Eric. Here, Godric, I got the keys to his car.” Sookie leaves the room to find Eric’s car keys. 

Eric rises from his knees and towers over Godric. Still, Eric seems so small. “Thank you for coming back for me.” Eric murmurs with an unfamiliarly lighthearted smile. Godric does not recognize Eric covered in tears and smiling. Eric envelopes Godric in a brave, tight, all-encompassing embrace, and for the first time since Godric was last in Eric’s arms, Godric feels some semblance of safety.

Godric does not know how to honor the Eric he has known and loved for a thousand years while caring for who he is now. Godric holds Eric protectively. “I will always come back for you,” Godric replies in a small mumble.

“You smell like the sea in winter,” Eric murmurs into Godric’s shoulder. None of it makes any sense. Godric closes his eyes and lets Eric take the comfort he needs. 

The embrace ends much sooner than either care for. “Come,” Godric encourages softly with a hand on Eric’s shoulder. 

“This is my car? This is a very nice car,” Eric comments as they exit Sookie’s house. 

“Don’t forget to call me when y’all get settled and start planning. Bye now,” Sookie bids Eric and Godric ‘goodbye’ as she closes the door behind her. 

“Would you like to drive?” Godric offers the keys to Eric. 

Eric, oddly, shakes his head, “Will you? Please?”

Godric will not deny Eric this, however uncharacteristic a request it is. Godric pulls the driver’s seat up to accommodate for his legs that are much shorter than Eric’s, and begins to drive. Eric’s loud Old Swedish music plays before Eric can turn down the volume nearly all the way. Eric buckles his seatbelt, something Godric has never witnessed.

 “Do we live by the sea?” Eric asks as he watches the trees pass by his window. 

“Do you remember the sea?” Godric asks quietly. 

Eric nods, “I think I do. The water. Sand. Snow. Cliffs.” 

Godric answers Eric’s initial question, “We live in a place called Shreveport now. We live with your progeny, Pamela, and mine, Tara. You own a bar. There are… swamps nearby.” 

“I have a sister?” Eric asks. Godric thinks of Nora and the overwhelmed feeling grows. “Why do I remember the sea?” Eric asks, looking back at Godric now with eyes that have never looked so big. 

“You were born by the sea,” Godric answers the best he can. “We lived there for many years. We will return someday.” 

Eric smiles excitedly, “Today?” 

Godric shakes his head, “Someday. First, we need to repair your memory. We must do this here.” It is clear by Eric’s silence that he has no interest in regaining his memory. Godric does not know what to do with that. Godric does not know who Eric is anymore. 

1, 2- 1-

“Are you alright?” Eric asks worriedly. The question surprises Godric.

Godric assures, “I am much better to see you safe.”

Eric does not believe Godric. “You seem so different from my dream.”  Godric raises an inquisitive brow, but Eric does not explain himself. 

They drive together in silence for some time, Eric’s eyes on Godric. Eric says randomly, “You are very beautiful. I don’t think anyone can be more beautiful than you.” Godric struggles to hide his emotions. He shakes his head, fondly and sadly recalling the many memories he has of Eric saying those exact words to him. Some things never change. 

Pam is the first to greet Godric and Eric at the door of Fangtasia. “You did it, you brought him home. I never doubted you, Grandpa,” Pam says tearfully. She embraces Eric tightly, then hits his arm when he does not immediately return her hug, “I was so worried about you. You look like shit. Are you done bein’ such a fuckin’ dick to me?” 

Eric looks down at Pam in confusion, “I’m sorry. You were going to kill Sookie.”

Pam scoffs, “I was not going to kill Sookie, I threatened to kill Sookie. There’s a fucking difference. You see what I mean, Godric? It’s like he’s stupid now.” 

“Pamela,” Godric gently intervenes, “Eric has been through a great ordeal. We are all home now. Let’s let him rest.” He touches Pam’s shoulder fondly, convincingly.  

Pam rolls her eyes, “Fine.” She distractedly runs her fingers through Godric’s wavy, overgrown hair, “Don’t you ever touch a pair of scissors again. I can’t believe you’ve been chopping this all off all this time. What a tragedy.” Pamela may have what many consider an abrasive personality, but Godric sees this is how Pamela cares for the people she loves, so he is happy to oblige. 

Godric gives Pam a soft smile before leading Eric further into the bar. Eric sticks closely to Godric’s side, as though frightened by the patrons. Godric greets Tara quietly as he reaches behind the bar to grab two bottles of Tru Blood. Godric stands awkwardly beside Godric. Tara can see a change in Eric already. “You okay?”

Eric looks at Tara with no recognition whatsoever. He nods, “Yes, thank you.” Tara can’t recall a time Eric ever thanked her for anything. Or anyone. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Tara asks again. 

Godric rubs Tara’s arm reassuringly and speaks in her ear so Eric cannot hear over the loud music, “We will be in the back. Please call for me if I am needed. Watch for unfamiliar faces.” Tara nods and gives Godric a reassuring smile. 

Godric leads Eric to their room. Tara and Pamela have had their fun renovating and decorating in Godric and Eric’s frequent and prolonged absences this year. Each time Godric returns, he recognizes the space less and less. Eric’s coffin has been relocated to a storage closet and replaced with a luxurious bed that is far too soft and wide for Godric’s comfort. The walls are disguised with tapestries, photos, and some of Eric’s swords and other remnants from his Viking tribe. It’s claustrophobic, but Godric does not complain. 

“This is where we live?” Eric asks as he closes the door behind him. Eric looks about the room slowly, searching for memories in the items. He gravitates naturally to his father’s crown. It is encased in a glass box on a shelf adjacent to their bed. Eric asks, “This is yours?”

Godric hides his horror from Eric. Godric realizes intimately that Eric does not even remember his human life. Eric has forgotten his own father, who has for a millennium been Eric’s purpose for living. “No,” Godric answers gently, “it is yours.” 

Eric furrows his brows, “I’m no king.”

It will not be an easy task to offer these witches kindness when Godric finds them. “You were,” Godric explains. “This once belonged to your human father. It is rightfully yours.“ 

Eric’s eyes widen like a child’s. He asks, “I can touch it?” 

Godric smiles sadly and nods, “It is yours.”

“Wow,” Eric opens the container carefully and holds the crown gently. “It looks so old.” Eric places the crown on his head and looks at himself in the reflection of the glass. Godric takes a seat at the edge of the bed and opens a bottle of Tru Blood to sip on. “Are you also from the sea?” 

Eric replaces the crown in its box. “Yes,” Godric answers simply, still not in any habit of sharing more than necessary, even with Eric. 

“Were you a human king, too?” Eric asks as he sits beside Godric on the mattress. 

Godric resists laughter as he hands a bottle to Eric, “No, certainly not.” Eric looks at Godric long and hard until Godric adds, “I was a slave. Before that… I was just a person.” Eric continues to wait expectantly. “There were no kings where I was born.” 

“How did you become a slave?” Eric asks in a curious way Eric would never ask in his right mind.

Godric finds the question disturbing, but decides to give Eric his honesty. Godric is in no position to refuse Eric anything ever again, not after this. Godric looks down at the bottle in his hands as he recounts, “The Roman army invaded my home when I was a child. My people were massacred. I was taken to Rome as a prisoner of war.” 

Eric watches Godric in solemn silence as Godric shares his past with Eric. “They killed your family? Your people, all of them?” Godric does not answer. “I am more sorry than I can say.” Eric’s hand rests on Godric’s thigh, seemingly as a force of habit. It feels familiar and right. Godric takes comfort in it. “How did you become king?”

Godric explains, “That is a longer story.” Eric gives Godric that long, curious expression Godric cannot seem to deny. “The Authority trusts me. They needed a king.” 

“Didn’t you want to be king?” Eric asks in surprise. “To be king is a great honor,” Eric expresses, though his voice expresses confusion, not contempt.

Godric answers honestly for the first time to anyone, “I did not want this any more than I wanted to be a slave - or a sheriff, for that matter.”

Eric asks with no prejudice whatsoever, “What do you want to be?”

Godric does not know that he has ever been asked this question. He does not know how to answer it. It occurs to Godric that the only responsibility he wants, or has ever wanted, is to be Eric’s. Eric is the only decision that was truly Godric’s.

Instead of the truth, Godric answers, “It does not matter. I am what I am.” Godric looks up at Eric feeling weighted with all the love he wants to give him, but cannot.

“It matters to me,” Eric insists. Godric is sure he sees the Eric he knows and loves in this Eric’s eyes. 

“Thank you,” Godric mouths too quietly for even Eric to hear well. Godric rests his hand on Eric’s tenderly, selfishly. Eric smiles sincerely at the touch. 

“Are we lovers?” Eric asks hopefully. Godric does not know why the question frightens him so. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I upset you? I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Godric shakes his head and answers quickly, “You may ask me anything. The answer is ‘yes.’” Godric keeps his answer short, hoping not to lead Eric to conclusions Eric does not make himself. 

“Oh,” Eric answers with a very familiar smile. Godric knows this smile well. “Can we make love now? I mean, would you want to? I would like that. Very much.” Eric’s sex drive persists, but his presentation has changed. Eric, but not Eric. Sookie was right. 

Godric lifts Eric’s hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Drink. Please,” Godric nods toward Eric’s bottle of Tru Blood. Eric does so obediently, quickly emptying the bottle. “How do you feel now?”

Eric reads the back of the bottle curiously. “I feel hungry,” Eric answers honestly. “I want to be close to you. I want to know you. Please.” Eric intertwines his fingers with Godric’s affectionately. Godric smiles because Eric is still Eric. Eric has not been possessed by witches, as Pamela thought. Eric may have been born anew, but he is still Eric. 

Eric reads Godric’s silence as acceptance. He leans in closer to Godric and catches his mouth in a kiss before Godric can think of a good enough reason to reject Eric. The kiss is gentle, new, unfamiliar but very welcome. Godric has never been kissed this way. Godric reciprocates in kind: gently, softly. Eric’s typical urgency and dominance is nowhere to be found. Eric kisses selflessly and without expectation. 

Tara calls to Godric without words, and Godric has no choice but to stop the kiss. “Please, stay here,” Godric requests before disappearing from the room. 

Isabel stands in the front doorway of the bar. Godric sees in her blank eyes she is not herself. Tara and Pam stand beside Godric. Music continues to play loudly, but every vampire in the room is watching. “I speak for Antonia Gavílan de Logroño,” Isabel speaks, a shell of herself. 

Godric knows immediately the objective is to keep Isabel alive. “I am Godric,” he introduces politely. “What do you wish to say?” 

“This will be your only warning, Rey Vampiro . You send your underlings to our place of worship with false pretenses of peace. Your progeny attacks us, unprovoked. This will not be my first war, and I will not be defeated again,” Antonia speaks through Isabel’s mouth. 

Godric does not doubt this is Eric’s fault. He chooses his words carefully, attempting still to appeal to the witch’s heart. “Por favor, perdóname.” ‘Please, forgive me.’ Much to the shock of the room, Godric kneels before the witch in Isabel’s body. “No deseo la guerra. No lucharé contra vosotros.” ‘I do not desire war. I will not fight against you.’ Isabel simply stands before Godric, a zombie. Godric can only hope this means Antonia is listening. 

“Reconozco tu nombre, como lo hacen todos los vampiros antiguos. Has sufrido mucho a manos de los vampiros,” ‘I recognize your name, as all old vampires do. You have suffered greatly at the hands of vampires,’ Godric acknowledges. “La paz que ofrezco es verdadera. Por favor, mira dentro de mi corazón y verás que no pretendo hacer daño a tu aquelarre.” ‘The peace I offer is true. Please look into my heart and you will see that I mean no harm to your coven.’ 

Isabel steps closer to touch Godric’s forehead. Godric feels Antonia enter his mind. He closes his eyes and counts through the intrusion. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Godric sees behind his eyes memories that haunt him each night, as well as memories he had long forgotten. Antonia searches for what feels like a small eternity. Godric struggles not to show the emotion she draws out of him. He lowers his head.

Soon, the unpleasantness passes. “También habéis sufrido mucho a manos de los vampiros,” ‘You have also suffered greatly at the hands of vampires,’ Antonia acknowledges. Godric is at her mercy.

“Perdóname por enviarte a Isabel y Eric. Me preocupo mucho por ellos y les confié demasiado asuntos delicados,” ‘Forgive me for sending Isabel and Eric to you. I care deeply about them and I entrusted them with these delicate matters,’ Godric goes on gently. “Pasé por alto sus faltas. No repetiré este error. Por favor, acepta la protección que te ofrezco. Deseo ser tu aliado.” ‘I overlooked their faults. I will not repeat this mistake. Please accept the protection I offer you. I wish to be your ally.’ 

Antonia is silent for several long moments. “Acepto. Debes saber que si tú o alguno de tus vampiros nos traiciona nuevamente, no mostraremos piedad.” ‘I accept. You must know that if you or any of your vampires betray us again, we will show no mercy.’ 

“Gracias. Lo entiendo, por supuesto,” ‘Thank you. I understand, of course,’ Godric is relieved. 

“Por favor, acepta, como muestra de nuestra nueva alianza, que tus subordinados regresen a ti con… mejoras. He eliminado el mal del corazón de Eric Northman y ahora te libraré de este traidor,” ‘Please accept, as a token of our new alliance, that your subordinates return to you with… enhancements. I have removed the evil from Eric Northman's heart and will now rid you of this traitor,’ Antonia offers sincerely.

Antonia’s spirit is gone from Isabel, leaving her with one final instruction.  “No,” Godric finds himself saying. Godric is, luckily, far faster and stronger than Isabel. He removes the stake from her hand before it can pierce more than an inch of her flesh. “Isabel,” Godric calls her attention, attempting to ground her back to reality after what he can only imagine was a traumatic two days under the control of a 400 old witch. Isabel only stares at Godric in terror. “Isabel,” Godric repeats gently. 

Isabel slowly blinks back to reality, her eyes on Godric’s. “You are safe now,” Godric promises quietly, dropping the stake to the ground behind him.

“Godric?” Isabel asks, confused. At least Isabel recognizes Godric. That is already more than Godric can say for Eric. 

Godric nods and escorts Isabel to the back of the bar, where they can have privacy from the crowd. Eric hides from just behind the corner of the hallway, as he has for the entirety of the interaction with Antonia, in the event that Godric needed him. “Godric, who is this?” Isabel and Eric share very confused eye contact.

It is a very long night in the renovated basement that currently acts as a sitting room. Isabel is, thankfully, largely undamaged by the witches that held her prisoner for two nights. After forcing down a few Tru Bloods, Isabel is healed of any injuries she sustained and tells Godric, Eric, Pamela, and Tara what happened. 

Isabel and Eric visited the coven at MoonGoddess Emporium, as Godric requested. The coven leader, Marnie, became possessed by the spirit Antonia. Eric did not respond well to being threatened. Isabel attempted to protect him out of loyalty to Godric. Luckily, there were no casualties, and as they all saw, Godric managed to organize, at the very least, a cease-fire.

“That’s fine and all, but what the fuck are we going to do about 50 Fucking First Dates over here? Jesus Christ, look at him.” Pam gestures to Eric in irritation. The group stares at Eric, who looks between them anxiously. “We’re just gonna leave him like this?”

Godric is the first to speak, “Can anyone here use magic?” Silence. “Does anyone know anyone, other than these practitioners, who can use magic?” Silence. “Anyone who can defend against magic? Fight resurrected spirits? Do any weapons exist against spirits, or witches?” Godric nods slowly at the silent group, “Eric is one of the oldest vampires in the world, and he was helpless to Antonia’s attack, even with Isabel. We are outmatched, and surely would be overpowered if we attempted anything against these witches.”

Pam is pissed, but defers to Godric. Godric appreciates Pamela’s trust. He explains more softly, “No spell lasts forever. My understanding is that a spell can only last as long as the one who cast it.”

“Does that count if the one who cast it is already dead?” Pamela asks, clearly irritated at Godric’s attempt to encourage hope.

“It was not Antonia who cast the spell, technically. It was Marnie, the one she possesses,” Isabel reminds Pam. “She is old, she has no more than another thirty years naturally.”

“I know you two are not seriously suggesting that we leave Eric fucking brainless for another thirty years,” Pam tests. 

“I am not brainless,” Eric corrects quietly, as though afraid of confrontation with Pamela. “I trust Godric. I am fine as I am.” 

Pamela looks to Godric incredulously, “You see? You see what I mean? I don’t know who the fuck this is, but it is not Eric, and I for one will not bargain with fucking terrorists.” Pam leaves the room dramatically. Right now, Godric sees far more of Eric in Pamela than he does in Eric. Tara and Godric need only to share eye contact before Tara stands to go after Pam.

“Isabel,” Godric says gently as he leans forward, elbows on his knees, “I am more sorry than I can say for this. You have done more than I have any right to ask from you.”

Isabel responds bravely, “It will take a lot more than a few witches to scare me away, Godric.” She shares a smile with Godric, “The storm is over for now. I will be ready when it is time to fight, but now is the time to rest, kiss ass, and live to fight another day.” 

Isabel stands, “You know where to find me, Godric. Call, and I will come. Stan, too, if you’d like the witch to do to him what she did to Eric.” She lightly, fondly pinches Eric’s cheek. Eric looks up at Isabel, expecting her anger for his actions, but receives kindness. Eric gives Isabel a shy smile. “Be safe.”

Isabel is gone before Godric has a chance to properly say ‘goodbye.’ Only Godric and Eric remain. Godric realizes just how guilty Eric looks. “This was my fault,” Eric admits, although he does not recall his crime. Eric looks to Godric for guidance. “I can’t take it back. I want to. I am so, so sorry.”

The Eric that Godric has loved for a millennia would never apologize like this. Godric wonders if this is a new feeling for Eric, or if it is a feeling Eric simply does not allow others to witness. Even Godric. “I know,” Godric accepts. “We cannot change the past, no matter how much we may want to. Everyone is home safe. You are alive and safe. I am grateful for this.”

Eric considers this and asks, “You said you felt my fear. What did it feel like?” 

Godric does not have it in him to disguise the truth from Eric, not when Eric is being so honest with Godric. “It felt like when I died. ” They both sit with this uncomfortable truth together. “To break the sacred bond between maker and progeny is very painful. I have heard there is no more severe pain than to lose a child.” Godric closes his eyes and shakes his head, “It is unimaginable. I felt a small fraction of this.”

Eric holds Godric’s hand gently, like he held his father’s crown earlier in the night. “Your maker met the true death?” Eric concludes. “What happened?”

Godric rubs his eyes with the hand not currently occupied by Eric’s, “It was a very long time ago. Shortly after he made me a vampire.” Eric listens patiently, which is not like Eric at all. Godric squeezes Eric’s hand, “We can discuss it another time. You should make things right with Pamela. Tonight.”

Eric is visibly uncomfortable. Godric assures Eric quietly, “You and Pamela love each other unconditionally.”

“I don’t want to make her angry,” Eric confesses, his eyes on Godric’s small hand in his own. “I’m not who she wants me to be. I only disappoint her.” Eric explains, “I don’t want to be… bad. I don’t want to be a person who hurts people. I don’t want to be evil. If returning my memories means I have to change, I don’t want them.”

Godric understands - more than Eric can know. “Do you think I am evil?”

Eric’s wide eyes quickly find Godric’s and his grip tightens on Godric’s hand, “No, no, of course not. You - You are wise, and kind, and - and gentle. You are nothing like you were in my dream.”

“I was, long ago,” Godric admits softly, not wanting to frighten Eric while he makes his point. “When I first found you in the forest by the sea, I knew only hunger and hatred. This is what my maker taught me. You showed me love; you showed me dignity, patience, and humanity that I had not known before you. You healed me.” Eric hangs on Godric’s every word. “I have walked beside you for a thousand years. I have loved and known you as I have no other. You are not evil. It is impossible.”

Eric feels tears in his eyes. “Why did I do all those horrible things? I tortured people, I killed the fairy, I would have massacred the coven of witches.”

Godric can only say, “You had your reasons, as we all do.” Godric admits quietly, “You hurt Sookie’s friend because you thought he had stolen me away. You killed the fairy because you were confused and hungry. I do not know why you attacked the witches, but I know your heart, my Eric. I trust you with all I am. You had your reasons. Anything else is my responsibility for passing onto you the hatred my maker gave to me, and for failing in my duty to protect you. I will regret this for eternity, but it is mine to regret, not yours.” Godric reaches forward to wipe away Eric’s tears. “Can you understand?”

Eric nods and wipes blood from his face. “Did I give it to Pam, too? What your maker gave to you?”

“Perhaps, some,” Godric answers honestly, shamefully. “Pamela is still very young, only a century old now. Already, I see so much of you in her. Unconditional loyalty and love. Joy. Passion. Humor.” Godric explains, “Pamela is angry because she feels she has lost you. That is all.”

“What if she cannot love me as I am?” Eric asks fearfully.

“Impossible,” Godric promises. “Your bond to Pamela is sacred, as is your bond to me. The blood is sacred.” Eric still seems lost. Godric suggests, “Ask her to fix your hair.”

Eric frowns, “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Godric smiles knowingly, “Nothing at all. It just… makes her happy. Trust me, hm?”

Eric nods in agreement and stands to find Pamela. Godric stands to follow Eric up the stairs. “All is well, ást-kærr,” Godric assures. Godric believes it.

The rest of the night falls into normalcy. Pamela trims and dyes Eric’s hair. Tara runs the bar. Godric washes dishes. The domesticity brings a peace to Godric’s old bones.

Chapter Text

18

-

Sweden, ~938 AD

“Mycket bra,” ‘Very good,’ Godric compliments quietly as he slowly circles where Eric kneels over the last of his prey for this night. Eric has drained three dozen soldiers, and still hungers. The final prey is long dead, but Eric rips his shirt open to open his chest in search of heart’s blood. Eric sucks the last drop of blood from the soldier’s heart and grunts in frustration when it is empty. 

Eric leans back on his heels only when he feels Godric’s familiar hand card its way through Eric’s hair, tugging gently once he reaches the back of Eric’s head. Eric’s beauty distracts Godric from his task. Eric looks up at Godric and complains, “Jag hatar när du får blod i mitt hår.” ‘I hate when you get blood in my hair.’ Godric smirks in amusement - Eric’s hair was drenched in blood long before Godric came around. “Jag hungrar fortfarande. När behöver jag lika lite som du?” ‘I still hunger. When will I need as little as you?’ 

Godric takes in the sight of his Viking selfishly. Eric has a raw power Godric has never before seen, and he is on his knees for Godric. Eric is Godric’s: his bloodlust, his strength, his joy, his heart. Godric feels far more possession for Eric than he ever allows Eric to know. “Du behöver mindre än du inser,” ‘You need less than you realize,’ Godric answers wisely in a soft, sated voice. Godric wishes to give Eric all he hungers for and more.

Godric knows he should perhaps teach Eric moderation, but cannot bear to stop Eric in the midst of feeding. Eric is far too beautiful like this for Godric to interrupt needlessly. Godric imagines the damage Eric could do to a city if Godric were free to bring his baby vampire to such a place. As it is, Godric would never risk such a thing. Eric is safest here in the taiga, where he and Godric are the only apex predators of their kind. 

“Låt mig ta dig i natt.” ‘Let me take you this night,’ Eric pleads, his head turning to kiss Godric’s forearm where it rests against Eric’s shoulder, where a very old brand lies beneath Godric’s stolen shirt. Godric flinches away and removes his touch from Eric altogether for reasons Eric does not yet know. “Dessa män kan inte tillfredsställa mig. Jag hungrar efter dig.” ‘These men cannot satisfy me. I hunger for you.’ 

Godric turns away from Eric, and Eric rises quickly to stop him. Eric appears before Godric to interrupt his path through the snow, “Jag vet att du tänker på den kvällen ofta också. När du matar, när du sover bredvid mig, när vi delar njutning.” ‘I know you think of that night often, too. When you feed, when you sleep beside me, when we share pleasure.’ Godric sees in Eric’s eyes an insatiable craving for more than blood. Godric wonders if his own eyes reveal the same craving that has nagged incessantly within Godric since he first saw Eric. 

Craving, however, does not accurately describe what Godric feels for Eric. Godric needs Eric like he needs blood at night and rest during the day, but far more impossible to stave off. “Ge dig själv till mig,” ‘Give yourself to me,’ Eric pleads, as if Godric has not already belonged completely to him since that first night that Godric gave his afterlife to Eric. “Känner mig. Har mig. Mitt hjärta är ditt.” ‘Know me. Have me. My heart is yours.’ Godric’s eyes flutter shut when Eric’s blood-stained mouth meets his own. 

Godric will not - can not - deny himself Eric. This has always been true. Eric’s bloody hands draw Godric nearer by his waist until all air is extinguished between them. Godric feels inexplicably light as Eric kisses him so sweetly. Godric did not know this pleasure before Eric. Godric is addicted to Eric in ways he cannot understand or fight or offer shame for. Not now, not with Eric’s urgent hands sliding beneath Godric’s clothes to remove them. 

Eric soon has Godric’s bare back in the blood-stained snow. Godric watches as Eric hastily takes Godric into his mouth, eager to bring pleasure to his maker. Godric’s dirty fingers find Eric’s silky hair once again. Despite his craving to watch Eric’s mouth work around him, Godric cannot keep his eyes open for long. Eric draws moans from Godric that Godric did not, before Eric, know lived within him. Godric’s body writhes in pleasure beneath Eric, waves of it crashing over Godric like he’s drowning in Eric’s all-encompassing touch. 

Snow sticks to the especially cold skin on Godric’s back as Eric suddenly turns him over. Even the snow somehow feels soft on Godric’s face when Eric gives him such sweet pleasure. Eric wastes no time opening Godric for himself.“Ást-kærr,” ‘Love-dear,’ Godric’s unnecessary breath hitches with a hushed cry as Eric enters him. “Ahh,” Godric cannot stop small sounds from escaping, not that Eric would ever, ever ask Godric to keep such beautiful sounds from him. 

Eric’s nude body presses flush to Godric’s as he sinks so deeply within him. Eric’s deep moans are muffled against Godric’s branded shoulder. Eric and Godric move together with such skill and nature, it is as though their bodies have always known one another. Eric pulls Godric’s hips against his own again and again, chasing an incurable need to be one.

“Jag hungrar bara efter dig, min död,” ‘I hunger only for you, my Death,’ Eric forces out between moans. “Jag följer bara dig. Jag älskar bara dig. Jag vill bara ha dig för alltid. Jag behöver inget annat.” ‘I follow only you. I love only you. I wish only to have you forever. I need nothing else.’ Godric does not know how Eric has the sense about him to speak at a time like this, when Godric can only summon absent-minded pleasured sounds. 

Eric intertwines their fingers and lifts Godric’s hand only enough to press a fanged kiss to the back of his hand. “Jag är din. Alltid,” ‘I am yours. Always,’ Godric manages through a strained voice, his final pleasure too near for more words. Eric changes the angle of his hips and increases in speed, and some mixture of a moan and laugh escapes Godric. Godric’s fingers hold on tightly to Eric’s. “Min Eric,” ‘My Eric,’ Godric cries out desperately, without any semblance of his usual stoicism.

The sun will soon rise, but Godric and Eric will not part for several days. Their bodies continue their union deep in the ground for days to come, safe from the sun and the rest of the world. 

-

Shreveport, 2010

Eric wakes from another half-sensical dream of Godric wondering if he dreams of Godric every night. It seems likely. Eric wakes just as he slept all day: in Godric’s tight embrace, Godric’s chest pressed to Eric’s back. Eric feels his dream lingering in his body, turning into craving. Eric forces his fangs to retract, but the rest of his body does not calm so easily. Godric’s body feels very, very good against his own, and Eric wants more. 

Godric senses Eric’s waking, even half asleep. His palm slowly rubs Eric’s chest, attempting to ease him back to sleep with the soothing movement. The touch only makes him crave Godric more. Eric turns around in Godric’s arms to face him, and Godric pulls him closer. Eric loves him. Eric watches Godric’s face, which does not seem to find peace even in sleep. Eric sees Godric’s pleasured expressions from his dream behind his eyes, hears his moans echo distantly, and Eric wants Godric.  

Godric sleeps in oversized clothes that would better fit Eric. The collar is too big, and unbuttoned, exposing the long tattoo around Godric’s neck. Eric finds himself tracing the strange tattoo with a feather-light touch of his fingertips. Eric wonders if Godric dreams of Eric nude, covered in blood, in the snow for his taking. Eric hopes he does. 

Eric replaces fingertips with lips, kissing along Godric’s tattooed collar bone. His lips warm and tingle against Godric’s skin for reasons Eric does not understand. Eric’s lips wander up to Godric’s neck, and he finds himself craving Godric’s blood like he craved the fairy. Eric’s fangs ache for Godric’s neck.  

“Ta mig i natt,” ‘Take me this night,’  Eric pleads in hushed whispers against Godric’s skin as he did in the dream. If the dream is a memory, perhaps Godric will understand.

Being awoken by Eric for sex is no new experience to Godric, but something about this night feels different. Even half asleep, Godric recognizes something softer in Eric that is usually more demanding, more dominant. Godric’s hand slides up Eric’s back, pulling him closer instinctually. Godric struggles to deny Eric fully conscious, but groggy and wrapped around Eric as he presses kisses to Godric’s chest, Eric’s restless body moving slowly against Godric’s, softly pleading for Godric to take him - Godric is helpless.

Godric tilts Eric’s chin up for their lips to meet. Eric kisses Godric gently, following the lead of Godric’s mouth. This is not how Eric has ever before kissed Godric. Eric kisses Godric with passion, with gravity, with craving. Tonight, Eric takes what Godric gives him gratefully. Eric melts under Godric’s touch in a way Godric does not recognize, but adores as he does every other part of Eric. 

Godric and Eric kiss slowly and deeply, hands exploring bodies as though for the first time. Eric sees sea waves behind his eyelids, tastes the salty, clear sea air on Godric’s mouth, and Eric feels that Godric is his home in some unknowable way. Eric pulls Godric closer until the weight of his body presses Eric’s against the soft mattress. Eric knows what he wants, and knows Godric will give it to him. 

“Mitt hjärta är ditt,” ‘My heart is yours,’ Eric murmurs as Godric kisses down to his neck. “Mata från mig, snälla. Få mig att minnas den första natten.” ‘Feed from me, please. Make me remember that first night.’ Eric looks so small beneath Godric, need widening his pupils. Eric’s fingers card through Godric’s hair in a way Godric has never felt before. “Behaga,” ‘Please,’ Eric begs in a whimper. 

Godric’s fangs extend of their own accord as he looks down at Eric. Eric reaches to touch Godric’s fangs with a curious, light touch. Eric’s fingers trace around Godric’s eyes, which have darkened with craving. “Känner mig. Har mig. Mitt hjärta är ditt.” ‘Know me. Have me. My heart is yours.’ Eric recalls the words he spoke to Godric in his dream, hoping Godric will understand. Godric’s eyes meet Eric’s, briefly wondering if Eric’s memory has inexplicably returned to him. 

Eric gasps when Godric’s fangs pierce his skin and he drinks Eric’s blood. Eric does not remember anything new as he hoped, but he understands exactly why the Eric from his dream wished so much for this. The feeling is beyond words, beyond understanding. Eric is a vampire, it should not feel like ecstacy for Godric to drink his blood, and yet he cannot deny his feelings. 

Eric’s blood, as it did that first night that Godric ended his human life, tastes like the sea, like snow, like home. Godric misses Eric desperately. Eric is different now, but his heart and his blood has not changed. Godric resists losing himself to Eric’s blood, forcing his jaw agape and pulling back. Godric is sure he must look like a monster to Eric, with Eric’s blood dripping down his chin. Eric was so frightened of him only last night. 

Eric looks up at Godric and sees only an angel. Eric pulls Godric down to meet his mouth in a bloody kiss. Eric’s thighs squeeze Godric’s hips in an entirely new way that Godric finds he likes very much. “Ta mig, ta mig, ta mig,” ‘Take me, take me, take me,’ Eric begs against Godric’s bloody lips. “Gör mig full av dig.” ‘Make me full of you.’

Godric knows what Eric asks for, but it takes Godric by surprise. This is not something Eric asks for and not something Eric and Godric talk about - ever. Godric and Eric make love as they always have, as has always come naturally to them. Godric hesitates until Eric takes Godric’s hand, sucks on his fingers, and leads Godric’s hand where Eric wants his wet fingers. Godric feels weak with affection for Eric. When Godric draws low moans from Eric, Eric draws them from Godric too.

Eric’s beautiful body twists and writhes on Godric’s hand, desperately pulling Godric deeper into him. Godric does not know how he will survive Eric this time. Eric presses sweet kisses along Godric’s neck and, just as Godric fully enters Eric, buries his fangs into Godric’s neck and takes Godric’s blood. Godric gladly gives Eric all he has to offer.

It is new and different, but Eric is here and Eric is safe and Eric does not fear Godric. Eric wants Godric’s love, and Eric offers his own right back. “Ta graih aym ort,” ‘I love you,’ Eric finds himself saying in a language he cannot name, nor recall why he speaks it. Eric only knows he feels the words very deeply, and must say them to Godric now. 

Eric grasps onto Godric tightly as their bodies move together greedily. Godric slips his hand beneath Eric’s neck and pulls him closer as he presses against Eric’s most sensitive, pleasurable spot over and over again. “Ta graih aym ort.” ‘ I love you.’ Godric whispers his bleeding heart to Eric, “Va ar anmeenyn un red roish y traa.” ‘Our souls were one before time.’ The words sound more natural on Godric’s lips than any other language Eric has heard Godric speak. 

Eric never, never, never wants this to end. Even the knowledge that Godric is his lover, and has been for one thousand years, and will continue to be his lover for eternity, is not enough. Eric needs Godric now and always. Eric may have many more questions, but he knows all he needs regarding Godric: Eric is his. 

Eric and Godric are home. As they kiss and Godric presses his love into Eric’s welcoming body, waves lap at the shore near them, snow falls gently onto Godric’s back, and a cold, salty breeze washes over them. It is beyond Eric’s understanding. Eric can only grasp onto Godric’s body desperately and moan into Godric’s lips as Godric brings him pleasure again and again. 

To wake from nothingness into an unconditional, eternal love like this is surely more than Eric deserves. Eric silently vows to himself never to take Godric for granted, always to protect him, and forever to love him. 

Eric cannot pretend to know the reasons he tortured and killed innocents, but Godric says it was for him, and Eric knows at this moment he would do it all again for Godric without question. Eric would do any unspeakable thing for Godric now, with no memory past several days ago. Maybe this means Eric is evil, but that suddenly doesn’t matter at all. Eric does not need to be good to the entire world, only to Godric. At this moment, and perhaps at every moment of the last thousand years, Godric is all that matters to Eric. 

Godric brings them both their pleasure together, and they are one. Eric does not remember himself, but he knows all he needs to about himself. Regaining his memories is meaningless to Eric. Eric has all he needs here in his arms, and Eric sees it is not because Godric is his maker or his king, it is because Eric loves him and has always loved him. 

Their bodies slow, and Godric and Eric eventually lie tiredly together, their bodies tangled. Eric kisses along Godric’s chest, where his 2,000 year old necklace still lies against his skin. “What is this?” Eric asks with only innocence. 

Godric does not care to speak of his marks - or to even think of them, if he can help it - but Eric does not remember this. Eric only wishes to understand Godric; Godric will not deny him this, “I received it shortly after I was taken to Rome.” Eric’s fingers delicately trace black ink, “It signifies a… collar. Ownership.” 

Eric flinches ever so slightly at the realization. “Oh,” he murmurs, disturbed to learn this. His fingers find the tattoo on Godric’s right bicep, “What does this say? I can’t read it.”

Godric does not need to look at his tattoo to recite, “‘Yn ghrian; ny rollageyn; yn eayst; yn faarkey. Tinus. Sucaria. Aia. Godric.’” He is silent for a few moments as he translates for the first time, “The sun; the stars; the moon; the sea.” Eric is very patient as Godric shares softly, “My father, my mother, my sister, and I.” Eric touches the tattoo with reverence. “It is Gallic. I was given this as a small child by the Druids, as all children were in my tribe.”

“Oh,” Eric says again, his eyes transfixed on the words on Godric’s skin. “It’s very beautiful. Do you miss them? Your family?”

“You are my family now,” Godric avoids the question, offering Eric a soft smile. 

Eric returns Godric’s smile lightheartedly, “Do you think of them often?” Godric simply nods. Eric’s hands wander to Godric’s other arm to touch the tattoo on his other bicep, “This?”

“I don’t remember,” Godric answers in truthful whispers. “It was given to me before Rome.”

Eric’s kind fingers trail down to Godric’s wrist. Godric resists pulling away from Eric. Godric keeps his eyes firmly on Eric to keep from giving the horrid mark any of his attention. “This?” 

Silence falls between them for some time. Godric soon cannot tolerate Eric’s touch on the mark any longer, and intertwines their fingers instead. “‘Fugax,’” Godric says before translating, “Fugitive.” Eric is still confused, so Godric explains as gently as he can so as not to upset Eric, “It is a punishment for runaways. I escaped my master once, but I was caught and returned.” 

Eric feels Godric’s pain. “I’m sorry,” Eric whispers earnestly.

Godric assures softly, “It was a long time ago.” 

“But it still hurts you,” Eric states what is so apparent to him. Godric wonders how Eric still knows him so well. Eric’s hand finds Godric’s back, where the top of a long spinal tattoo begins. “This?” 

“Before Rome.” Godric answers honestly, “I don’t know, Ást-kærr.” 

Eric’s fingers trace along Godric’s shoulders until they find rugged skin. Godric holds still as Eric feels the brand. Godric speaks his master’s name for the first time in two thousand years, “Proprietas domus Semni Larun.” Godric feels his chest constrict as he translates, “Property of the House of Semni Larun.” 

Eric is taken aback by the implication of the brand. Godric was a slave in his human life, and even in eternity, Godric cannot be free of the memories of it. Eric does not know himself, but he knows vampires become as they were when their human lives ended. Godric’s human life ended as it was lived: in suffering. Godric died alone at the hand of a sadist who wished to control him for eternity, as only a maker can control his progeny. Nobody was coming to save Godric from his fate. Eric feels a protectiveness of Godric he did not previously realize. 

There are no words. Godric sees the emotion on Eric’s face and suggests, “I should not have told you.”

“No, no,” Eric insists quickly, “no, I- I want to know you. I want to know everything about you. I feel angry, but not with you, never. I am angry you were treated so badly. I know it was a long time ago, and I’m too late, but I wish I saved you.” 

Godric cups Eric’s cheek softly and asks, “Save me?” 

Eric nods and touches Godric’s chest, “Yes. I’m sorry he hurt you. I’m so very sorry, Godric. More sorry than I can say. Your world was so cruel to you. Your heart is so kind and strong, and you deserved to be saved and protected and loved.” 

Godric doesn’t notice when a blood tear falls from his own eye until Eric tenderly wipes it away. Godric feels lost in time and seen in a way he did not previously know. “I know I’m late, but I would like very much to do this for you now. Protect and love and save you. If-If you would want that.” 

Godric doesn’t know how he manages to find control of his emotions again. He kisses Eric softly and whispers, “I will always want you.” 

Parting is not an easy task today. Tara soon loses patience with Godric altogether and knocks loudly at their bedroom door. Eric jumps in surprise, “Godric, we gotta get to Bon Temps. Come on, Sookie’s waiting on us. You promised.” 

Godric presses a quick, reassuring kiss to Eric’s lips before replying through the door, “Thank you, Tara. We will leave for Bon Temps shortly.”

Eric does not release his hold on Godric. “Don’t leave me,” Eric pleads quietly, suddenly. Eric doesn’t understand where this fear comes from. Godric does. 

Godric presses a kiss to Eric’s forehead and swears, “Never.” Eric believes him and smiles in that earnest way Godric only witnessed for the first time a few short days ago. Godric wants Eric to regain his memories, but he will miss this innocent, honest smile. Godric will miss Eric so unburdened. Eric kisses Godric without ego and without pretense. Eric’s heart is Godric’s. 

“Tvätta med mig,” ‘Wash with me,’ Godric suggests quietly. Eric’s smile persists, and he nods gratefully. They share a quick shower during which Eric does not stop kissing Godric for a single moment. Eric takes every cheeky opportunity to rub soap over Godric’s chest and between Godric’s legs, and Godric does nothing to stop him. Godric only melts into Eric’s kiss and pulls him closer.

The drive to Sookie’s home in Bon Temps seems to pass quickly. Tara drives as Eric sits beside her and they discuss Tara’s taste in music. Godric sits in the backseat quietly, his mind far away. Witches, Warlow, Russell Edgington, the case of Eric’s missing identity, and perhaps most unnecessarily pressing of all, politics, all weigh heavy on Godric’s mind. 

“Godric? Godric? Hello?” Tara brings Godric back to reality. “You see? He’s losing it,” Tara tells Eric. “Godric?”

Godric finally looks up to Tara, still somewhat distant mentally, “Hm?” 

Tara rolls her eyes fondly, “We’re here.” Godric glances out the window to see Sookie’s home, the cemetery, and Bill Compton’s house. “Did you hear a word I said? I said, ‘I don’t want to deal with Sookie right now, can I drop y’all off and go hang with Lafayette and Jesus until you’re done?’” 

Eric asks curiously, “Why don’t you want to see Sookie? Sookie is very kind.”

“Uh, maybe because it’s her fault I’m dead? Maybe because her good-for-nothing boyfriend Bill Compton didn’t lift a finger to get me out of that plantation in Mississippi-” 

Godric rests a gentle hand on Tara’s shoulder to interrupt her with an especially soft tone, “Of course.” Tara silences, but avoids Godric’s eye contact. Eric looks to Godric for help. “Of course, little one. Be safe. Please call if you need me, for any reason.” Tara calms somewhat and nods in agreement. She holds Godric’s hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

Only upon exiting the car with Eric does Godric notice an unfamiliar form in Sookie’s kitchen window. Godric senses immediately that this person is fae. He stops Eric in his tracks and murmurs, “Sookie har en gäst. Var respektfull och följ min ledning.” ‘Sookie has a guest. Please be respectful and follow my lead.’ Eric nods in agreement. “Stanna bakom mig.” ‘Stay behind me.’  

Godric knocks on the screen door. Eric stands half behind Godric, leant forward so as to not seem so tall and overbearing. “Is that Vampire Ric?” A familiar male voice calls from inside. Sookie’s brother Jason hurries to the door to open it for Godric and Eric, “Hey, buddy, it sure is good to see you again.” Jason hugs Godric awkwardly, but earnestly. “Sook, you didn’t say we were gonna have more company.”

Sookie argues quietly with the stranger in the other room. “Come on in,” Jason invites and makes way for Godric and Eric to enter. “I didn’t have a chance to say, but I sure am sorry about… you know… the bomber. I swear, I had no idea or I woulda told you. You know, that guy, Luke, he wadn’t all there.”

“You-” An accusatory voice enters the room. 

Godric should perhaps not be so surprised, “King Niall.” 

“You stole Claudine’s light. You killed her. Jason, step away,” King Niall orders, a glowing finger pointed at Eric. Godric stands fearlessly between Niall and Eric. Godric will not allow harm to come to Eric. 

Sookie hurries after Niall, “It wasn’t his fault, if you would just listen-”

“I’m sorry,” Eric quickly offers. 

“Hey, hey, take it easy Grandpa Niall,” Jason interrupts, coming between him and the two vampires. “These two are good people. Now, this is still Sook’s house, and if she wants them here, that’s up to her.”

“‘Good people?!’ Are you out of your mind, Jason? These are vampires, and they will steal your sister’s light if given the opportunity,” Niall argues as he grows a ball of light in his hands. Godric remains calm and bows his head respectfully. 

“Now, that’s quite enough,” Earl enters the room. “We sure do appreciate your help, Niall, but you are overstepping your bounds, mister. Put that ridiculous thing away right now. These are Sookie and Jason’s friends, and they ain’t doing nothing wrong right about now. You got a problem with them being here, you’re the one that can go.” Niall silences and, after a long moment of consideration, the ball of light between his hands disappears.

“You have committed the most heinous crime against my people. There will be consequences,” King Niall threatens Eric. Niall asks, “This one is yours, Godric?”

Godric nods and finally speaks, “Please accept my true apology for my progeny’s mistake. He was under the control of a local witch coven. I was not present, though I should have been. I assume responsibility for him.” Niall looks at Godric skeptically. “I have only ever been an ally to you. This has not changed. I offer protection to Sookie and your people against Warlow.”

Niall sucks on the inside of his lip and replies, “I will deal with you later.” More politics. Godric is certain he will soon lose his mind very soon at this rate. 

“Thank you,” Godric nods. 

Eric echoes quietly, “Thank you.” 

“Wait, you know about Warlow? And you know my Grandpa Niall?” Sookie asks Godric. 

“We have much to discuss,” Godric admits. It is a long, tense conversation during which Eric finally learns of the mess he finds himself reborn into. 

Warlow has spent the better part of the past 5,000 years hunting supernatural creatures to create hybrids to feed his appetite for blood and power. He and his progeny exist between dimensions and, most recently, wreaked havoc in the fairy realm. Warlow is older and more powerful than everyone in this room, and everyone even Godric has ever met. Warlow walks in the sunlight, is not harmed with silver, and may or may not be vulnerable to a stake to the heart. Options are limited. 

Even if the MoonGoddess coven is willing to help, and with the support of the fairies in King Niall’s kingdom, and all the vampire allies in the Texas-Louisiana area, they have no sure way to kill Warlow. Not to mention, the Authority and human public cannot learn of any of this. 

Destroying Warlow is an impossibility, and yet, a necessity. 

Godric rubs his face tiredly. Eric subtly rubs soothing circles into Godric’s thigh under the kitchen table where they all sit together.  A knock at the door. “Oh shit,” Sookie exclaims as she stands and heads for the front door. Godric does not have energy in him to do more than listen as Sookie and Bill Compton argue loudly through her screen door. Jason soon joins the fight.

“What is he doing here?” Bill accuses, clearly gesturing to Eric as he sits harmlessly at the kitchen table. “You invited him in, and not me? He is a master manipulator, he will do anything to get what he wants from you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sookie scoffs. “He never drained me. That was you. He never tricked me into falling in love with him. That was you, too. He sure as hell wasn’t the one who abandoned Tara, so as much as I love you Bill, I’m startin’ to think it’s you that’s the master manipulator. I want you off my porch, Bill Compton.”

“You heard her! Go on, get!” Jason chimes in. 

It is a very long night.

“Never a dull moment around here, is there?” Sookie’s Grandpa Earl jokes as he elbows Godric’s arm lightly.

Only when Godric hears Eric’s car pull up outside the house does he suggest, “Perhaps it is time for us to take our leave.” Eric nods and stands with him. “Please do not hesitate to call if Warlow shows himself. We will be here, we will be ready.” 

It is only a moment later that Tara and Bill start a physical fight. “Bill! Let her go!” Sookie shouts. Tara is exceptionally strong for her age, and has an affinity for fighting, but Bill Compton is simply older and more experienced. He has his arm around Tara’s neck dangerously in only a matter of seconds. 

Eric does not hesitate to come to Tara’s rescue. Eric throws Bill Compton clear across the yard with ease. Bill quickly rises and prepares to fight Eric. Godric stands protectively between his progeny and Bill Compton, and Bill must know he cannot possibly win. 

“Stand down, Mr. Compton,” Godric orders simply. Bill Compton stops in his tracks, but curiously does not submit to his king. Sookie runs out of the house to tend to Tara.  

Confidently, bitterly, Bill says impulsively, “I should be King.” Eric’s eyes widen in shock. 

Godric raises his brows in curiosity, “Is that so?” Bill silences, and Godric’s suspicions grow. He informs Bill, “I have no quarrel with you, Bill Compton, and I would not accept a challenge from such a young vampire as yourself.” Bill narrows his eyes in contempt, but remains silent. “As you should not have accepted a challenge from my progeny, who you are well aware is only a baby vampire. Hardly a year old.” Tara does not care to be spoken of this way, but she knows better than to interrupt now. 

Bill Compton does not argue, but does not agree either. “We are to abide by not only vampire, but also human laws. Ms. Stackhouse has clearly enforced that you are not welcome here. If you continue to harass this family, I will be bound to cooperate with the human sheriff of this parish in enforcing human law. You can imagine my sheriff has higher priorities than a harassment case. Am I understood?” 

Bill Compton looks past Godric at Sookie as he replies snidely, “Yes, my King.” Bill disappears without another word. 

“Thank you, Godric. I am so sorry for him. He is out of his G.D. mind,” Sookie explains. “I have no idea what happened while I was in fairy-land, but he’s gone insane.”

“He always was, Sookie,” Tara responds. “You’re just finally seeing it now.” Godric watches bruises on Tara’s neck heal quickly and fights to contain his fear. Nothing shakes Godric like seeing his progeny in danger. Tara was harmed tonight, with her family only a room away. Tara finally meets Godric’s eyes, but quickly looks down in shame. “Can we go now, or what?” Tara asks Godric, and Godric knows she’s seen the fear and disappointment on his face. Godric only nods and walks to the car silently.

Chapter Text

19

-

London, 1666

“Very close,” Godric praises his youngest proudly, although he is proud regardless of her agreement with Godric’s training. Bad days, failures, and Nora’s natural distaste for combat training cannot sway Godric’s pride in her. Godric releases his hold on Nora and requests, “Again. Remember, you need not be faster or stronger than I. Find my weakness, exploit it.” 

Nora sighs and picks herself up off the floor, “This is a waste of time. You have no weaknesses, and I am no warrior.”

Godric smiles lightheartedly, “Again, little one.”

“It’s not a fair fight,” Nora complains stubbornly, her hand on her hip.

Godric nods in sober agreement, “Rarely are fights fair.” Godric needs for Nora to be empowered to defend herself if necessary: this is the duty of a maker. Still, Godric plays to Nora’s strengths to motivate her. Godric pulls a scarf from his pocket and ties it around his head, covering his eyes. Godric is blinded. “Again.”

“When do you expect that I fight a blind vampire?” Nora asks in annoyance. “You’re patronizing me.”

“Again, my Nora,” Godric insists. The room is suddenly silent. Nora does not make a single sound. Godric hones into his other senses, but cannot locate his progeny. “Very good,” Godric praises quietly. “Find a weakness - or make one. Overpower me.” 

A sound from the left draws Godric’s attention. Nora is suddenly at Godric’s right side. She twists his right shoulder that she knows to have a weak spot and applies as much pressure as she has to give. Godric’s arm is released from its socket in his shoulder blade. It is enough of a lead to get Godric to the ground, at which point Nora prematurely releases Godric, frightened by hearself. “Are you alright? Have I hurt you?” Godric should make his point that Nora is not to stop until the enemy is fully subdued, but he does not wish to dampen Nora’s spirits. 

Godric rolls onto his back on the floor and removes the blindfold, “You were excellent.” He pops his shoulder back into his socket without indicating the slightest of pain to Nora. Nora is unconvinced. Godric chuckles lowly and stands to join Nora, “I am impressed. How did you know?” 

Nora frets over Godric’s arm, gently testing to be sure Godric is not harmed. “You never sleep on your right side. Does it hurt?” 

Godric assures Nora, “No. It has not hurt in a very long time.”

“What happened?” Nora asks fearlessly, something she would surely not do if Eric were here. 

Godric learned in a very short time there is little he has the strength to refuse Nora anything. She is far too precious to Godric to deny her. He tenderly brushes some of Nora’s hair back into place beside her ear and answers simply, “Some things cannot be healed. Even by magic.” Nora’s face changes as it does when she cannot contain her feelings any longer. “What’s wrong?”

Nora looks into Godric’s eyes anxiously, “You would not tell me a lie, would you?”

“A lie?” Godric’s brows furrow slightly, “Have I upset you?”

Nora bites her lip and asks tearfully, “Are you and Eric going to leave me?” 

Godric is sure he misunderstands Nora. It must be. “Leave you - my Nora?” The thought alone breaks Godric’s heart. “Never, never. Why would you say such a thing? We will always be together.” Nora is crying now for reasons Godric does not understand. Godric does not hesitate to pull her into his arms. “Min lilla, mitt hjärta är ditt.” ‘My little one, my heart is yours.’

Nora cries softly into Godric’s shoulder. Godric understands: she is young, fearful about the world, and so very dependent on Godric and Eric. “Then why must I learn to fight?” Godric resists laughing at the absurdity of Nora’s notion. “If you and Eric will always be here to protect me, why must I learn to fight? I hate it. I will never be as strong or fast or skilled as you. I am not a fighter, but I don’t wish to be useless.” 

Godric smooths Nora’s hair and cradles her closely as she expresses her frustrations. Only when she begins to calm down does Godric assure, “You mean the world to me. You need only be exactly who you are, and my heart is yours.” Godric explains, “To abandon you would be to throw a baby in the gutter. Unimaginable. You make me bleed to say this.” 

He swears, “My duty to you is to protect you, care for you, and teach you all I know. I wish very much that I knew about poetry, politics, humanitarianism, royalty - things you have such talent for. I do not. I know war, and little more. I am very sorry, my Nora.”

“Oh, Godric, I didn’t mean-” Nora begins before Godric interrupts, as he very rarely does. 

“Please know all I ask of you is to be safe and well,” Godric reminds Nora in a whisper. “You need only be my Nora; you have my love forever.” Godric promises, “I will walk beside you always.”

-

Caddo Lake, 2010

“What is this place? Have I been here before?” Eric asks as Godric opens the door to an old cabin on stilts in a large swamp. The property is, from the outside, large and old and built with rotting wood as the other abandoned properties that line Caddo Lake are. The inside is light-tight and surprisingly spacious.

“This is your place?” Tara asks with a raised brow. “Why?”

“Nobody knows of this place,” Godric explains, “only you both, now. I purchased this shortly before the Great Revelation, just in case.”

“In case what?” Tara asks critically.

Godric offers a distant shrug, “Anything. The Great Revelation was unlike anything even I had ever before seen. If we were persecuted, if chaos broke out, or…” Godric trails off before stopping himself, “We needed a safe place.”

“In East Texas?” Tara jokes, “Because that’s where people go to feel safe.”

“It is remote, rural. Very few humans, no vampires. Federally protected,” Godric begins. The truth is, “This is halfway between Dallas and Shreveport.” And New Orleans, but Godric keeps that to himself. Godric could bring Eric, Pamela, and Nora here if they ever needed shelter. 

It occurs to Eric that Godric is always working to protect his family, especially from the unknown, without any expectation of appreciation whatsoever. “You are always welcome here, but we are never, ever to kill a human here. You may feed on the wildlife, but the humans must not be harmed. This keeps this a safe place for us. Do you both understand?” Eric and Tara both nod in agreement. “Thank you. Let’s begin, hm?”

“Finally,” Tara agrees excitedly. She’s the first out on the dock, eagerly asking, “What are we doing tonight? Combat, right? When I was in the ring last month, I saw a guy who was so fast, it was like he knew what was comin’ before the other guy even moved. Can you show me how to do that? How to be fast?” 

Godric smiles fondly at Tara’s passion. Even in Eric’s youth, he could not compete with Tara’s enthusiasm for fighting. Godric no longer has any desire to fight as he was when he was young and angry and afraid, but he enjoys teaching Tara what he knows. He enjoys spending time with his family. This is as close to a hobby as Godric comes. 

“Speed comes with time and age,” Godric reminds Tara as he joins her on the dock. Eric follows closely behind Godric. “You have already learned so much, and you are already a great fighter. I am very proud of you.” Godric cups Tara’s cheek affectionately, and Tara fails to hide her smile. Godric is safe and kind and nurturing and selfless in all the ways Tara has always needed. Tara doesn’t know how she could’ve ever been okay without Godric. 

“Come,” Godric takes Tara’s hand and leads her to the end of the dock. They sit together and Godric removes his shoes. Eric lingers, unsure if he’s welcome to join. “Eric,” Godric nods for him to join them, and of course, Eric does. 

Tara and Eric copy Godric, removing their shoes and rolling up their pant legs a few inches. Godric puts his feet in the lake water, and Tara and Eric copy. “Listen only,” Godric instructs quietly and closes his eyes. They listen closely to the occasional small air bubbles rising from the largely still water, the tall trees occasionally swaying with the gentle warm wind, and the distant creaking of old wood in the water. Bugs buzz in the air. Tara breathes softly, a habit that will linger for many years to come. It is all very peaceful. 

“What are we listening for?” Eric softly asks. The lack of sarcasm in his tone continues to surprise Tara. He looks like Eric, but his cruelty has been completely extinguished. Tara can even see it in his body language: from the way he holds himself, entirely lacking that overbearing darkness Tara once saw in him, to the way he never seems to know what to do with his hands.

“Tara is learning to focus her senses. It is a practice that can benefit us all. Start with what you see in front of you. Find the source of every sound. Then cast a wider net,” Godric explains. “This is one of the few skills that is improved only by practice, not by age.”

Tara understands without Godric needing to say it aloud, “The sooner I notice my opponent’s move, the shorter my reaction time.”

“Very good, my little one,” Godric whispers, focused now on the soft snoring of a family several miles away. Further, the flapping of a bat’s wings. “It is no substitute for the speed that comes with age and talent, but in battle, you want every advantage, no matter how small.” At this point in her life, most vampires Tara will encounter are older and stronger than her. Godric’s job is to empower her to the best of his ability in the event that she is in danger and Godric is not there to protect her. Luckily for Godric, Tara makes this task very easy. Tara wants to be strong, and shows great talent and passion for fighting.

“This is the easy part. The hard part is focusing in the arena when everyone’s screamin’ at us,” Tara complains lightheartedly. 

Godric smirks faintly, “We will get there.” 

Despite the excessive Tru Blood they all drink throughout the day, Tara is exhausted by the end of it. It is a long day of hand-to-hand combat practice. Despite Tara’s youth, Godric and Eric don’t need to be especially gentle with her. Tara is quick, light on her feet, and efficient. Tara far more often wins their matches, and when she doesn’t, she learns from her mistakes. “Very impressive,” Eric tells Tara when she has him in the wet, grassy dirt, her foot on his chest. “You’ve really only been a vampire for a year?” It’s perhaps the nicest thing Eric has ever said to Tara.

“Thanks,” Tara responds. She hesitates before offering Eric her hand to help him back up to his feet. 

Eric takes her hand to stand, “Thank you.” He shakes Tara’s hand, “Good match. You’re a strong warrior and a good sport.” 

Tara lets Eric shake her hand, but finds it very odd. “Uh, thanks again. Back at you.” She looks to Godric, who watches from several feet away, “It’s still weird, right?”

Godric shrugs, “Eric is Viking. He has always been very honorable.” Eric smiles at Godric’s kind words. Eric suspects that even before he lost all memory, Godric knew Eric more intimately than he ever knew himself. “It is time to return home and go to ground.”

“Already?” Tara and Eric ask in unison. 

“Pamela needs our assistance cleaning up tonight,” Godric reminds his progeny. “And I have responsibilities in Louisiana tomorrow night. We will return soon to continue training.” Tara gives Godric a suspicious expression. “Soon. I promise.”

“What responsibilities?” Eric asks, “King responsibilities?” Godric only nods in confirmation. 

“That means we get left behind,” Tara informs Eric as she crosses her arms.

“I do not take pleasure in this,” Godric reminds Tara. She rolls her eyes and makes a displeased snorting sound. “Come.”

Fangtasia is closed when Eric, Godric, and Tara return, but one patron will not leave. “Goddamn it, Jessica, you have been a pain in the ass ever since Bill dropped you on our doorstep. Now you go on and get home to your-”

“This isn’t about me, this is about Bill. I know you don’t care about him, but he’s everything to me, and I don’t have anywhere else to go or anyone else to ask. There’s nothin’ Sookie can do to help, and we don’t have anyone else,” Jessica cries as she argues with Pamela. “I’m scared, Pam. He’s scaring me, and he won’t let me help. So I’m not leaving because I don’t know what else to do.”

Pamela notices Godric, Eric, and Tara’s return before Jessica does. “Godric, thank God you’re back. Would you take care of this? I have got better things to do than sit here arguin’ all night,” Pamela complains dryly. Pamela leaves the room swiftly.

“No, please don’t leave-” Jessica sighs and wipes her tears before facing Godric, “King Godric, I know I’m askin’ a lot. And-And I know Bill’s already in trouble, I don’t want to get him in more trouble, but I don’t know what else to do. Please don’t be mad. I-”

Godric approaches the young vampire Jessica and encourages gently, “Shh… Slow. The sun will soon rise, so I need to know, where is your Maker now?” 

“I don’t know,” Jessica begins to sob in Eric’s arms. Eric holds Jessica uncomfortably, looking to Godric in confusion. Godric has no answers for Eric. 

“Should we search for Bill?” Eric asks earnestly.

Godric shakes his head subtly and requests, “My Tara? Will you please call Sookie, ask if Bill Compton is with her now? Ask if she is well?” He takes a tone so soft, Tara doesn’t question him. She only nods and leaves the room to call Sookie. Eric lingers near Godric like a magnet. 

Godric guides Jessica and Eric to the bar, where they remain long past the sunrise to discuss Bill Compton’s recent behaviors. Tonight, Bill and Sookie fought once again, Bill then fought with his progeny, and Bill disappeared. Jessica apologizes frequently and, even more frequently, pleads with Godric to have mercy on her maker. “He just hasn’t been the same since Sookie left,” she repeats throughout her testimony. “He used to be so kind, and now he just…” 

Eric and Godric listen patiently. Eventually, Jessica finally addresses the elephant in the room, “You… You seem so different. You really don’t remember me, Eric?” Eric raises his brows in confusion. “At all?”

Eric shakes his head, insecurity in his expression. “I’m sorry. What should I remember?” 

Jessica laughs a little at the thought before stopping herself. “Sorry, I-I’m not laughing at you. I just kind of wish I could forget that time in my life, too.” It’s clear Godric doesn’t know what Jessica is referencing, either. “When Bill was forced to make me a vampire, you took me in. You taught me how to feed without killin’, how to fight, how to survive, how to control my… urges.” Jessica tears up again, “Bill didn’t want me, and you took me in. I’d probably be long dead without you and Pam.”

Godric feels his heart swell in pride for Eric’s kindness toward this young vampire. Eric hangs on Jessica’s every word. “You think I’m… good? Not evil?” 

“Evil?” Jessica asks of Eric's odd question. “Of course not. You’re super old and you yell sometimes, but of course you’re good. All of you. I was so horrible, but you never judged me. I felt like the world’s biggest freak, but you and Pam made me feel normal. Then everything happened with Russell Edgington, and y’all took care of me again.” 

Jessica wipes her tears on a napkin, “You don’t owe me anything. I owe you more than I can ever repay, I know that. Other than Sookie and Bill, you’re all I have. I don’t know how to help him.” 

Godric assures Jessica, “You will stay here with us as long as you need. Thank you for coming to us. It is our duty as your elders to care for you, and mine as King to see to your Maker’s well-being. All will be well.” 

“What are we gonna do about Bill?” Jessica asks helplessly. 

Tara returns to the bar and shares quietly with Godric, Jessica, and Eric, “Sookie’s fine. Bill was at her place earlier; but Alcide’s there, and she won’t invite Bill in. She thinks she saw him go back to the Compton place.” She takes a bottle of Tru Blood and pops the lid off. 

“Thank you, min lilla. It is long past time to go to ground,” Godric reminds the young vampires here as he stands from the barstool.  “Come, Jessica. I will show you to the spare room. You will be safe here. I will be away most of tomorrow night, but we will find Bill Compton the next night.” Jessica accepts this and allows Godric to show her to the guest room. 

Eric is waiting patiently for Godric at the edge of their bed when Godric returns to their room. The sight of Eric gives Godric the relief it always does, but the small, insecure “hi,” Eric gives comes with a worry that sits heavy in Eric’s chest. 

“Hello, Ást-kærr,” Godric whispers as he shuts the door behind him. Eric looks as though something is on his mind, so Godric sits beside Eric quietly. Eric takes his time finding the right words. Eric takes Godric’s hand to hold. 

“Where will you go tomorrow?” Eric asks, worry in his tone. “What will happen? Tara said you will leave me. Us.”

Godric tenderly pushes some of Eric’s short hair behind his ear. “I will not be far,” Godric promises softly. He brings Eric’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Tomorrow, I will go for a public appearance here in Shreveport. I will film an advertisement. I will not leave Louisiana. I will return before the sun rises.” Godric reminds, “You are mine. If your heart calls to me, I will hear, and I will come to you.”

Eric is not soothed by Godric’s promises. “Take me with you,” Eric pleads quietly, his eyes big and blue and earnest. Eric knows Godric will not allow this, and he knows why, but he cannot stop himself. “Please, let me come. I-” Eric is lost for words. “I feel wrong to be apart from you. I feel sick to think of being away from you. Please.” Eric’s hand finds his stomach to indicate the source of his worry. “I’m sorry.”

Godric shares Eric’s sick feeling. Godric pulls Eric close, and Eric gladly soaks in comfort from Godric’s cold skin and soft hair and gentle touch. Tears of blood fall onto Godric’s shoulder. “Please, Godric,” Eric begs, his heartbrokenness flooding his voice. 

Godric does not know how he keeps his composure. 1, 2- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Godric must keep Eric safe. This thought is all that keeps Godric from falling to pieces before Eric, and inflicting his own broken heart onto Eric. “Shh…” Godric soothes his Viking. Eric holds onto Godric’s shirt with a grip tight enough to threaten the stitching. Godric presses soft kisses to Eric’s temple. 

When Eric’s tears stop and he begins to calm, he explains, “I don’t know why it feels this way. It… hurts.” 1, 2- 1, 2- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

Godric considers the implications of his response before answering, “I feel it, too.” Godric’s palm rubs along Eric’s back slowly.

Eric wipes his tears from his eyes, “Because I feel it?” Godric’s silence is the only answer Eric needs. “Why don’t I ever feel what you feel? I should. I only ever feel your… quiet. Calm.” Eric asks, “How do you make the hurt stop?” 

This is not a question Godric has been asked before. Godric was not aware Eric felt the lack of Godric’s emotions all these centuries. Godric meant only to protect Godric and Nora, and now Tara, from his influence. Godric is reminded of the constant oppression of his own maker’s relentless anger and darkness, and the promise he made to himself never to inflict that on his own progeny. Godric flinches in a way that would be unnoticeable if Eric were not in his arms. Godric closes his eyes. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 

“I… I count,” Godric admits, feeling shame wash over him as he speaks. Godric doesn’t know what possesses him to bare his soul to Eric now. “When I was human and I breathed, I would count my breaths in fives. To slow my heart. Now, I… count.” 

Eric is looking at Godric now, considering the implications of this. Godric was a human slave at the mercy of a vampire master who had complete control of him. Godric slowed his heart to exercise the only small control he had, a practice he continues now that his heart does not beat and his lungs do not breathe, and he is nearly always the most powerful being in any room. The fear from Godric’s human life is still part of him 2,000 years later. 

Eric cannot take away the pain that had been ingrained in Godric’s body for centuries before Eric existed. Eric cannot take away the fear that is so evidently part of Godric’s daily life. Eric can only rest his palm on Godric’s chest and assure gently, “Your heart is safe with me. However you feel. You don’t need to hide. I don’t want you to hide. To hurt alone.” 

Godric struggles to hide his emotions from Eric now, but knows he must. Even if Godric were willing to show Eric his pain, to allow him to carry what Godric himself often finds unbearable, it is not only Eric that would feel Godric’s heart. Godric would not subject his little ones to his suffering. 

There are no words of appreciation that amount to Eric’s selflessness. Godric traces his fingertips along Eric’s cheekbone affectionately, hoping to distract Eric from himself. “Would you let me come - if I was… me?” 

“You are you now,” Godric insists with a hand on Eric’s cheek. Eric accepts this silently. “I would, yes,” Godric answers honestly, although it’s clear to Eric this conversation is not easy for him. Godric does not hold Eric’s gaze. “You would not care to join me. But you would accompany me anyway.” 

Something about that sounds right to Eric. “I would accompany you anywhere,” Eric confirms. Godric smiles shyly. “Why would I not care to join you?”

Godric thinks of his Eric, the Eric who has loved and protected him for a millennium, the Eric who is a far more skilled politician than Godric could ever hope to be. Godric is firmly reminded of the many occasions Eric lost his temper in public settings, not because he hates politics, but because he knows Godric hates politics, and Eric cannot tolerate Godric’s discomfort, even as Godric’s choice. 

Godric cannot bring himself to say the words. Tears rush down his cheeks rapidly before he can stop them. Godric turns his face quickly from Eric and pinches his fingertips at the inner edges of his eyes to stop the blood. “Sorry,” is the only whisper Godric can manage to mutter out. 

Eric responds in a similarly small whisper, “Do not hide from me.” He touches Eric’s chin to encourage him to turn back toward Eric. Eric’s face dips down to a few small inches from Godric’s face as he has always done. Eric wipes Godric’s tears, “You miss me. The me I was.” 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Godric does not need to answer, Eric knows it is true. “I’m different now.”

It is Eric’s directness, not his softness, that frightens Godric. It leaves Godric with a raw, vulnerable feeling Eric has protected him from for many centuries. Eric, as he was, had no more desire than Godric to face painful truths. Eric, as he is, is fearless, directionless, and devoid of all ego. Godric’s own shame is suddenly unavoidable now that Eric has none. 

“It is my fault,” Godric admits quietly, his heart aching. “You begged me not to leave you, and I did. If I was with you, you would not be harmed.” He continues to wipe tears away, feeling shame for the blood even after all these years. It somehow still frightens him to see blood on his hands instead of tears. “You ask so little of me, and I-” Godric struggles to find the words. “I am more sorry than-”

“I am not harmed,” Eric corrects gently. He takes Godric’s hand in his and tenderly wipes the blood from Godric’s cheeks, “Godric, please listen to me. I don’t understand who I was, and I’m sorry I can’t remember our life together. It must have been very beautiful. I don’t want you to be sad, but please know that I’m not.” 

Eric’s fingers card through Godric’s hair in a familiarly comforting way, “I was lost in nothingness, and you found me. You love me completely, and you do not even know me anymore. The witch did not take anything from me that I can’t live without. She cannot.” Godric is terrified of Eric’s words, and feels it in the pit of his stomach. “So long as I have you, I have all I need.” 

Eric promises, “I understand you need to mourn what is lost to you, but know I do not feel the loss so long as your love is mine.” He kisses Godric’s forehead lingeringly, as he has many, many thousands of times over the years. It soothes something restless and frightened deep within Godric. “Please let me ease your burden. Show me your heart, min kärlek.” ‘my love.’

“I will love you always, my Eric,” Godric tells him. These are the only words he can manage. “I will walk beside you forever.” Eric holds Godric and soothes him with endless patience and love. Eric does not know himself, but he knows he loves Godric. Selfishly, Godric misses Eric’s anger most of all. “I’m tired,” Godric lies softly, “that’s all.” Eric has no interest in knowing of the burdens he has recently been relieved of: Godric will not refuse his wishes.

Chapter Text

20

-

Västergötland, Sweden, 1153 A.D.

It has been an especially long, cold, and hungry winter. Eric does not complain, instead taking his fill of other pleasures, but Godric knows Eric craves more than Godric can alone offer him. They remain in the safety of the taiga until spring, feeding on the occasional bear, making love, and sleeping late into each night.

Eric’s homeland is different when they return this year. The newly adopted Christianity is immediately recognizable everywhere, and to Eric, inherently offensive. Even Godric, who has seen many cultures and empires rise and fall, finds the death of Eric’s culture disturbing. Eric’s deep-rooted hunger and anger become one. 

They find a monastery where there once was a cemetery. Eric does not ask Godric’s permission and Godric does not stop him: Eric enters the hideous building with no intent to allow the inhabitants inside to walk free. After an empty winter of depriving Eric, Godric does not deny Eric this.

The books on the walls that Godric cannot read are stained in blood when Eric and Godric are through. It is an indulgence Godric rarely allows outside the battlefield, but does not regret this night. Godric and Eric feed from the final victim together, Eric’s hands on Godric’s hips holding the three of them together firmly. Godric stops himself to watch with dark, lustful eyes as Eric savors the blood of the final monk, whose consciousness has already left him. Eric drops the empty body to the ground with a hissing sound, blood staining his mouth as it does Godric’s. 

Eric is beautiful - more beautiful than anything Godric has witnessed in all his days and nights. Eric’s anger and revenge and fire captivate Godric. This night, Eric indulges in suffering, and Godric indulges in Eric.

Eric’s fierce hunter’s eyes find Godric’s as his hands instinctively tighten until their bodies are pressed flush together. Godric is Eric’s Death; his eternal lover, his darkest desire, his only love. Godric is Eric’s. Eric has spent the winter taking all he wishes from Godric while the boundaries that separate them become little more than skin. Eric has no intention to resist his urges now. At the end of the bloodlust, Eric wants only Godric.

Eric takes Godric at the tall altar, bloody fangs clanging together as they kiss and grab and move together roughly. Eric does away with their blood-soaked clothes and hastily presses Godric’s back down onto the altar. Their bodies writhe together shamelessly as Eric’s red, wet fingers open Godric quickly. Godric’s short fingernails leave scratches on Eric’s broad shoulders. The space fills quickly with their wordless, uninhibited moans. Godric forgets all but Eric, lost in the pleasure he so passionately and selflessly gives.

Eric’s breath, which becomes more of a rare treat to Godric as time goes on and Eric forgets the habit, hitches as he begins to press himself into Godric. Eric presses his forehead to Godric’s as they become one. A heat lingers beneath their skin from the stolen blood of the Eric’s hand slides beneath Godric’s neck and hip to pull him ever closer. Godric’s legs wrap around Eric’s waist naturally, his face buried in Eric’s neck. The world stops when Eric is fully within Godric and they are one.

Eric does not permit the sweet stillness for long. Eric chases their pleasure recklessly, the altar beneath Godric cracking beneath the pressure. The world disappears from the snow outside to the religious house within that has become a bloodbath. All that exists is the pleasure between the lovers within.

“Eric, min Eric,” ‘Eric, my Eric,’ Godric chants mindlessly. Eric finds on Godric’s face that pretty pleading look that tells Eric he is lost to pleasure and entirely submitted to Eric’s will. Eric presses his love into Godric again and again, resisting taking more than Godric has offered. Godric sees this and offers, “Ta mig djupare, min Ást-kærr.” ‘Take me deeper, my love-dear.’ Godric and Eric’s eyes meet one another as Godric begs, “Ta hela mig i natt, min Eric. Ta alla.” ‘Take all of me this night, my Eric. Take all.’ 

Godric does not need to ask twice. Eric slows his movements in a pause only to look more deeply into Godric’s eyes. “Snälla, min älskade. Snälla smaka på mig. Snälla ha mig i dig.” ‘Please, my love. Please taste me. Please have me in you.’ Eric’s hand wraps around Godric’s neck tightly and leans his weight into Godric. Godric feels a wave of pleasure force its way through even the most distant parts of his body. Godric is home. Godric’s mouth falls ajar as a pretty, helpless sound escapes him. Time stops. Eric is entranced by Godric.

Godric whispers breathlessly, “Smaka på min kärlek som bara är din.” ‘Taste my love that is only yours.’ Eric cannot resist a moment longer. Eric’s fangs plunge into Godric’s neck and his hips slam against Godric’s. Godric tastes brightly as sunlight on melting snow. Godric’s fangs find Eric’s neck, and the stolen blood between them is exchanged. They are one. 

Eric and Godric’s union is that of only two immortal lovers and killers. They make love in the blood of their victims through the night, returning a deep, nearby cavern only just as the early morning light begins to sting their skin. Godric’s skin buzzes with pleasure for days spent tangled in Eric’s arms.

-

Shreveport, 2010

Godric wakes all too early to a low, repetitive vibrating sound. He skillfully frees himself from Eric’s tight grip as Eric sleeps like the dead. Godric takes his cell phone to the basement and answers the phone silently. “Du utreds,” ‘You’re being investigated,’ Nora warns Godric. “Jure är död.” ‘Jure is dead.’ 

“Är du säker?” ‘Are you safe?’ Nothing is more important to Godric than this. 

“Ingen av oss är det,” ‘None of us are,’ Nora admits. “Fatima förhörs medan vi pratar. Det finns ingen avsikt att låta henne leva.” ‘Fatima is being interrogated as we speak. There is no intention to allow her to live.’

“Kan du fly?” ‘Can you escape?’ Godric asks, his only priority Nora. 

“Jag kommer att stanna här,” ‘I will stay here,” Nora declares. “Hon kommer att skydda mig.” ‘She will protect me.’ 

If anyone who has ever met Salome in the last thousand years knows anything about her, it is that she is truly self-serving. Salome will not protect Nora. “Jag kommer för dig.” ‘I will come for you.’

“Om du gör det kommer vi båda att dö,” ‘If you do, we will both die,’ Nora threatens. “Vistelse. Lita inte på Nan. Om de kommer för dig, spring.” ‘Stay. Do not trust Nan. If they come for you, run.’ 

“Jag kommer inte att överge dig.” ‘I will not abandon you.’ Godric firmly informs Nora. “Ring mig igen imorgon. Om jag inte hör av dig, kommer jag och hämtar dig.” ‘Call me tomorrow. If I do not hear from you, I will come for you.’  

“Du kommer att förstöra allt,” ‘You will ruin everything,’ Nora hisses. 

“Så var det,” ‘So be it,’ Godric murmurs regretfully. “Jag kommer inte att förlora dig. Jag älskar dig.” ‘I will not lose you. I love you.’

This only angers Nora. “Det har du redan,” ‘You already have,’ Nora ends the phone call. Godric resists calling her back. He closes his eyes and holds the phone tightly, feeling a deep loss of control. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.  Eric is here, safe, as is Tara. Nora is, for now, safe. Godric will feel if Nora more urgently needs him. New Orleans is much closer than Dallas, Godric can be at Nora’s side in a matter of minutes to protect her. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 

The door to the basement opens and closes. “Why are you down here?” Eric asks without a hint of accusation in his tone. Godric is so shaken by Nora’s news that he struggles to find a good excuse. Eric sits beside Godric silently and holds his hand.

Eric wraps an arm around Godric’s shoulders and pulls him close. Godric is tense and angry, and he initially resists his desire to soften for Eric. Eric’s voice is kinder than it has any right to be, “Who were you talking to?” Eric has no memory of Nora. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. The feelings do not pass. Insecurely, he says, “You said you loved… whoever it was.”

The absurdity of Eric’s jealousy brings Godric back to the present. “No,” Godric quickly corrects. Their lives may be in very real danger, but Godric will not allow Eric to believe for even a moment that Godric is capable of giving the love he feels for Eric to anyone else. Godric turns to face Eric and cups his cheek tenderly, “The love I have for you, I have only for you, Ást-kærr. This has always been true.” 

Eric’s worries are immediately gone. Eric smiles shyly, “Oh.” Godric is reminded of the dark flush of Eric’s cheeks the night they met so long ago. “So, what’s wrong?” Godric loves Eric, what else could matter? Godric wishes he could feel as light and unburdened as Eric does.

Godric answers simply, “Politics.” He presses a lingering kiss to Eric’s forehead. “Nan Flanagan will be here soon for me.” 

“Nan Flanagan? Isn’t that the woman from TV?” Eric asks. Godric can only imagine the peace Eric feels to not remember Nan Flanagan. 

Godric nods, “Yes. It will be a very long night.” Godric’s hand moves to the back of Eric’s neck, and Eric melts under his touch. Eric hangs his head closely to Godric’s as he always has. “I need to ask something of you, my Eric.” Eric nods in agreement, prepared to do anything for Godric. “Tonight, take Tara to Caddo Lake. Teach her to fight as we did last night. I know you have lost much, but you are a warrior still. Your body remembers all I have taught you.” 

Eric nods, although worry grows in Eric’s chest. Eric trusts Godric, so he does not argue. Godric smiles tiredly, “Bring as much Tru Blood as you can carry. Shed no human blood. Fight alligators, and each other. Make sure no harm comes to Tara, or to you. You are much, much stronger than she is, be careful with my littlest one.” Godric pauses and adds one final request, “Have fun.” 

Eric’s tone finally sounds like something familiar, “Yes, Godric.” Godric meets Eric’s lips in a soft, reassuring kiss. Eric cups Godric’s cheeks to keep him close. Eric wants Godric to himself, but if Godric chooses to send him away, Eric must go. Eric rests his head on Godric’s shoulder, feeling very small. Godric holds Eric as long as he can.

Tonight is truly a very long night. As promised, Nan arrives shortly after sunset. On Nan’s command, Godric films advertisements, interviews, and gives a scripted speech at something called a Festival of Tolerance. Godric keeps Nan away from Eric, and Bill Compton does not make an appearance, so he considers the day somewhat successful. He returns to Fangtasia late in the night exhausted. The bar has already closed. 

Godric searches for Eric and Tara first. He finds them asleep in front of the television set in Tara’s room, surrounded by empty Tru Blood bottles, the TV beginning an episode of a children’s cartoon called the Moomins. It is a bond Godric never expected to witness between Eric and Tara. 

Jessica is gone, likely searching for her Maker. Godric finds Pamela doing paperwork in Eric’s office. “When will this fuckin’ day finally be over?” Pamela complains without even looking up at Godric. He smiles tiredly and joins her, closing the door behind him. Godric unbuttons and removes his uncomfortable dress shirt, revealing a black t-shirt beneath. Godric rarely exposes his tattoos to any other than Eric, but cannot tolerate the dress clothes any longer. Pamela’s eyes linger slightly as most do, but she doesn’t bring it up now.

Pamela hands Godric her half-empty bottle of Tru Blood and leans back in Eric’s chair, “Why is everyone stupid, Godric? Everyone, I mean that.” Godric rests his hand on Pamela’s shoulder and sips at the drink. “I fuckin’ miss Eric.” 

“Me too,” Godric agrees quietly. He sets the bottle down on the desk and sits beside Pamela. 

Pam rests her head on Godric’s shoulder, “I would have killed someone by now if it wasn’t for you. And by ‘somebody,’ I mean every single last witch in Louisiana.” Godric rubs her arm soothingly, apologetically. “Just let me kill them already.” 

Godric leans in close and whispers a warning into Pamela’s hair, “Myndigheten kan komma att överfalla oss snart. Jag vill att du tar Tara och Eric och springer.” ‘The Authority may ambush us soon. I need you to take Tara and Eric and run.’ The Authority will not search for the others if they have Godric.

Pamela pulls back to look at Eric in shock, “Fuck. What the fuck?” 

Godric requests, “Lova mig. Behaga.” ‘Promise me. Please.’ He hates to ask this of Pamela, but Godric is tragically overpowered by the Authority. He cannot protect everyone. “När det är dags, ta dem till Öland.” ‘When the time comes, take them home to Öland.’ 

“Följ med oss,” ‘Come with us,’ Pam pleads in a gentle tone she rarely uses. 

Godric nods in recognition, but not agreement. “Snart,” ‘Soon,’ Godric promises. Godric has no intention to meet his True Death, but he will not abandon his Nora. 

“What isn’t fucked up these days?” Pamela asks rhetorically. “Seriously, I’m this close to losing it.” She wipes a stray tear away before it can touch the makeup on her cheek, “I don’t know how you keep it together, Godric. You never relax, you’re responsible for everyone, and you always do the right thing. If you ever feel the pressure, you’d never let anyone know. How the fuck?” 

Godric finishes the bottle of Tru Blood before even considering Pamela’s question. “I do not always do the right thing, or this would not be happening,” Godric admits. He looks down at the empty bottle instead of in Pamela’s eyes, “Sharing my burdens benefits no one.” 

“Have you tried? Ever?” Pamela asks. Godric stands to pull another bottle from the mini fridge adjacent to Eric’s desk, and this is the only answer Pam needs. “Humor me. Tell me just one thing you’re pissed about. For me. It’ll make me feel better to know I’m not going insane.”

Godric opens the bottle and takes his seat beside Pamela again. His face falls into something of his true feelings: utter depression. Godric considers Pamela’s request and thinks only of Eric. “I… fucking miss Eric,” Godric shares quietly. “I miss him more than I ever missed the sun, or my human family, or-” Godric stops himself. 

A blood tear escapes him as he admits, “I was born the night I found him. I felt a loss like no other when the witches took his memory, and I feel it still. My heart is lost from me.” Godric sips from the Tru Blood and passes it to Pamela. “You are not insane.”

“Bill!” Five blocks in any direction hears Sookie’s scream from what Godric can only assume is directly related to the witch coven that resides at approximately that distance. 

Eric is already gone from the bar. “Stay with Tara,” Godric commands Pamela before he disappears. Godric finds himself frozen in the doorway of MoonGoddess Emporium, shocked at the chaos he witnesses: Eric, a bloodbath, fire everywhere, chanting witches, Bill Compton, and an unfamiliar vampire. Well, not entirely unfamiliar. In the dark, with his fangs buried in a witch’s neck, blood splattered over his face, Godric is sure he’s looking at… himself. 

The strange vampire meets Godric’s eyes and seems to have the same revelation. Eyes like the sea meet Godric’s as the witch’s empty body drops to the ground. In this distraction, Bill Compton tackles this vampire to the ground for reasons Godric does not understand. It occurs to Godric that the witch is controlling Bill Compton’s mind. This vampire is very old, and much stronger than Bill Compton. The vampire takes the upper hand and prepares to remove Bill Compton’s head. “No!” Sookie screams as light comes from her hands. Bill Compton and the unfamiliar, old vampire are thrown clear across the room. 

The spirit Antonia in a witch’s body speaks to Godric through the chaos, “No peace.” Godric feels a wrath for her, but remains focused for Eric. 

Godric throws Bill Compton to the other side of the room before he, Eric, and the other vampire can restart their fight. Godric and this strange vampire meet eyes, and beyond reason, recognize one another. Upon closer look, Godric finds himself looking into Aia’s eyes. The strange vampire looks down to where Godric’s chest and arms where his tattoos are exposed past his black shirt. “Godric,” the vampire identifies. Godric is shocked to hear the slave language he has not heard from any other than Eric in millennia, “Cur cooney dooin, guee ort. Ta shiu yn un spyrryd ain. Marr Warlow.” ‘Please, help us. You are our only hope. Kill Warlow.’ 

Eric attacks this vampire beyond his will, his hand plunging into his back in search of his heart. The witch controls his mind. Godric grabs Eric’s forearm with enough pressure to break bone, “Eric, do not harm him.” Eric is not in control, or he would surely not grab Godric’s neck with enough strength to kill a younger vampire. Godric slams Eric’s head against the wall beside him - Eric is unconscious on the ground before Eric can even consider defending himself. “Antonia! Release him! Stop this madness - I will not ask twice!” 

“No peace,” Antonia repeats, leaving Godric no option. The witch’s head and heart lie lifelessly on the bloody floor in a very small fraction of a second. The fire stops. Bill Compton loses consciousness and falls to the ground. The strange vampire disappears. Pamela and Tara arrive, and hurry to Eric’s unconscious body. Godric chases after the strange vampire as fast as he can. 

“Quoishiu?” ‘Who are you?’ Godric asks as he gains ground and stops this vampire in his tracks. “Cur taitnys da. Ta mee aggindagh dy chooney.” ‘Please. I want to help.’

Upon closer look, this vampire looks… terrified. And young. “Ta mee Dago, mac Aia.” ‘I am Dago, son of Aia.’ 

Godric feels emotion overtake him. “Insh dou cre'n aght t'ou geddyn Warlow. marroo-ym eh.” ‘Tell me how to find Warlow. I will kill him.’

“Ferrish,” ‘Fairy,’ Dago answers vaguely. He disappears, and Godric cannot find him this time: as though he has disappeared from this world altogether. 

Godric feels as though he’s lost Aia all over again. 

“Eric, wake up, Goddamn it!” Pamela cries out as Godric returns to MoonGoddess. Godric kneels beside Pamela, Tara, and Eric, tears on his face.

“Min Eric,” ‘My Eric,’ Godric cups his cheek tenderly as he orders selfishly, “Som din skapare befaller jag dig att vakna.” ‘As your maker, I command you to wake.’ Godric’s blood tear falls onto Eric’s lips. 

Eric’s eyes open with great struggle. Godric feels his heart return to him in unparalleled relief. “Godric,” Eric asks weakly, “did you kill the bitch?”

“He’s back,” Tara complains and rolls her eyes. She stands to start tending to the injured coven members, starting with Jesus.

Eric is indeed back in all his glory. Godric loses more tears. “Tack,” ‘Thank you, ’ Godric expresses in hushed whispers, “tack, tack, tack, tack, Ást-kerr.” ‘thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, love-dear.’ Godric rests his forehead against Eric’s intimately. Pamela holds Eric’s hand to her cheek and cries softly. Eric feels like a dead witch has been digging around in his brain with dirty fingers - that is to say, not good - but at this moment, he feels loved. Nothing else matters.

Their reunion is short-lived. Godric feels Nora calling to him, and she is only down the street. Godric sees what Nora sees in his mind: a black car, silver chains, and several well-armed guards. “Pamela,” Godric commands her attention, “now. Do not return to Fangtasia, just go. Eric, go with Pamela and Tara. Now.” Pamela looks between Godric and Eric in shock, and knows she has no choice. 

Eric asks in disorientation, “What’s happening?” 

“The Authority,” Godric explains quickly. “Follow Pamela. There is no time, go!” Godric urges desperately.

“Eric, come on-” Pamela attempts to encourage.

“Without you?” Eric asks Godric, knowing the answer. “Never.” Eric does not even consider Godric’s instructions. 

“Please,” Godric begs, his hand on Eric’s cheek, “do not make me command you. I will not lose you.”

“I will not lose you,” Eric responds stubbornly. “Pamela, I command you to go without me.”

“Eric,” Pamela has still not stopped crying. She cannot resist Eric: she takes Tara’s hand and they disappear.

Time runs out. Godric feels silver burn his skin, and only remains still beside Eric. Eric does not handle the vaporized silver as well, groaning in pain. “King Godric, Sheriff Northman, Bill Compton: by decree of the one true Authority, you are under arrest. Do not resist.” Godric sits back on his ankles, knelt calmly beside Eric.

As disoriented and angry as he still is from the mind control, Eric bares his fangs, but Godric rests a hand on his chest before he can prepare to fight, “Do not resist.” 

Eric somehow controls his instincts and trusts Godric, although it is not easy to allow these people to hurt Godric. “Fuck,” Eric lies his tired head back down on the ground and awaits capture, coughing silver out of his lungs in irritation.

“Where are you taking them?!” Sookie argues with the quick vampire officers. Silver handcuffs, silver gags, silver chains, and cloth head coverings are applied, and the three are taken away. Bill Compton fights uselessly. “You can’t do this!” Sookie cries. Godric feels Tara call to him. One last tear falls as Godric’s heart breaks. All Godric can do is trust that Pamela will protect Tara. 

Godric and Eric find themselves locked in the tight trunk of a car. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Blinded, bonded, and silenced, Godric simply counts to himself. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Eric immediately begins the hard work of freeing himself and Godric. Godric is helpless to stop him. 

A considerable time later, Eric manages to remove Godric’s bonds, complaining in a hiss, “Du är inte särskilt hjälpsam.” ‘You are not being helpful.’ Eric pulls the silver from Godric’s mouth and demands to know, “Vad gjorde du?” ‘What did you do?’ 

“Nora är i fara. Jure är död,” ‘Nora is in danger. Jure is dead,’ Godric whispers while he has the opportunity. “Du vet ingenting.” ‘You know nothing.’

“Gör fan inte det,” ‘Don’t fucking do that,’ Eric snaps. “Jag är inte ett barn, Godric. Berätta för mig varför den jävla myndigheten kom efter oss.” ‘I am not a child, Godric. Tell me why the fucking Authority came for us.’ 

“Jag vet inte,” ‘I don’t know,’ Godric answers in an honest whisper. He is not in any way offended by Eric’s frustrated comment, Eric has every right to be angry at the situation. “Kung Yaotl togs för förhör i kväll också. Gamla myndigheten gjorde en massinkvisition som denna kort innan den tog slut.” ‘King Yaotl was taken for interrogation tonight, as well. The Old Authority did a mass inquisition like this shortly before it ended millenia ago. ’ Eric can hardly process what Godric is suggesting, “Alla icke familjebon slutar så småningom.” ‘All non-familial nests end this way eventually.’

Eric begins searching the trunk for anything to get him and Godric out. “Paranoia, svartsjuka, hedonism. Använd det mot dem.” ‘Paranoia, jealousy, hedonism. Use it against them.’ Eric ignores Godric and continues to search through clutter. “Min Eric, gör inte det här. Nora är här. Hon behöver mig.” ‘My Eric, don’t do this. Nora is here. She needs me.’

This catches Eric’s attention. “Är Nora här? I den här bilen?” ‘Nora is here? In this car?’ Godric nods in confirmation. Eric kicks a hole in the gas tank and throws in a lit match before Godric can stop him. 

The world is white. A bell rings, silencing all other sounds. Everything burns fiercely.

Chapter Text

21

-

Gaul, ~40 B.C.

Godric should not be here, he knows. He has kept himself from returning as long as possible to avoid the Roman Vampire Authority, but he cannot resist the desire to return home any longer. 

Godric doesn’t know what he had expected. Godric returns to the untouched remains of his tribe. Nature has largely taken over in the last fifteen years, but bones remain where they were left on that horrible night the Romans invaded. The Roman army destroyed everything for land they never again set foot on. Godric drops to his knees and cries stolen blood onto the ground where he once played.

Godric takes up the painful work of burying the skeletons of his people with gentle hands. He cannot identify the bodies, their tattoos and clothes long returned to the cycle of life. It is only when Godric finds an eagle’s talon: a familiar token in a ribcage that he recognizes any sense of familiarity. Godric takes this eagle’s talon between his fingers, but cannot remember why he feels the bite of familiarity. Godric keeps this token for many centuries, until he gifts it to his Viking, who treasures it for all of time.

-

New Orleans, 2010

Godric forces his eyes to open. He lies weakly on asphalt. The car lies upside down. Another car stops shortly behind. Human body parts lie lifelessly on the ground. Godric’s eyes find Eric first, who is already rising to his feet to kill any survivors. 

All in all, not the worst explosion Godric has survived.

Godric finds Nora lying unconscious on the other side of the burning vehicle. Godric checks her body for life-threatening injuries quickly and confirms she’s healing at a decent pace. Eric speaks with Bill Compton distantly, “We’ll need to go to ground soon. They won’t come for us until morning, we have that long to come up with a plan to get out of the country.”

Godric only watches his Nora. He has not laid eyes on her in over a century, and matches the details of her face to memory. Godric knows Nora will not leave the Authority, and he will not command her against her will. Nora may hate him for it, but Godric can not leave her alone. Eric calls Godric’s name, but his voice is distant. Godric notices a gothic necklace around Nora’s neck with a symbol he recognizes all too well. He holds it between his fingers as his mind drifts further away. 

Sanguinista. 

“Godric,” Eric calls again. He fails to catch Godric’s attention until he places a hand on his shoulder. “The sun is rising.” Godric nods in understanding. Godric pulls Nora into his arms and stands to follow Eric and Bill Compton to the nearby docks to break into an empty shipping container for the night. “Got it,” Eric confirms as he pulls open the door to a shipping container. 

“Godric?” Nora murmurs groggily from where Godric cradles her in his arms, her face pressed sleepily against his chest. Godric steps into the dark metal shipping container and sits near the back with Nora held close. Nora’s eyes sparkle through the darkness as she looks around in confusion, “Where are we? What did you do?” 

“I saved our asses. You’re welcome,” Eric bickers before Nora is even fully conscious. “I hope you like Havana. And that you’ve finally learned to swim sometime in the last few decades.” 

Nora rubs her pounding head and complains quietly, “Unbelievable.” She moves to sit beside Godric with her back against the cold metal wall, her weight leant against Godric’s shoulder. “You fucked us. I had an ambush waiting at a checkpoint a few kilos up to free you. The Authority will send for us the moment the sun sets.”

“That’s great, maybe I could have known that if you ever bothered to call,” Eric returns spitefully. 

“Do you all know each other?” Bill Compton asks, clearly confused. 

“What the bloody hell is he doing here?” Nora asks in irritation. She lies her head on Godric’s shoulder tiredly, still recovering from the explosion. Godric closes his eyes to appreciate Nora’s closeness and Eric’s true self as they argue needlessly. 

“What are any of us doing here, Nora? What the fuck did you do?” Eric argues, infuriated that he’s forced to spend the night in a shipping container hiding from the Authority. “You had the Authority arrest Godric?”

“You are just as thick as you were a century ago,” Nora scoffs. “I am all that has kept you two from being arrested for the past year. Do you have any idea how difficult you have made that task? The Fellowship of the Sun, the maenad, playing international spy with the Ancients, just to name a few. You do understand we live in a society and we have laws?”

“I suppose I should be thanking you! Thank you so fucking much, Nora. Thank you for working so hard to keep this family together, you’re really doing a fantastic job,” Eric complains sarcastically. “Do you have any idea what you have put us through?”

For now, Godric takes solace in that they are safe and together. Godric knows this will not last. Godric leans his head against Nora’s gently, allowing exhaustion to set in. Godric’s mind wanders dangerously to thoughts of what awaits them at the Authority, but now is not the time. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Godric forces himself to count and recall happier times between the three of them. Times before the new Authority and Bill Compton and Nan Flanagan. Times before politics. Peace. Godric has plenty of practice sleeping to Eric and Nora’s arguing.

“Godric!” Eric and Nora demand in unison as they tend to do when their bickering reaches a peak, waking Godric from his sleep. It was an inevitability. Godric opens his tired eyes as the two shout over each other about their predicament.

Nora and Eric silence as Godric speaks softly, “What’s done is done. There is nothing left to do now but rest.”

“You see?” Eric and Nora speak in unison again and their argument resumes. At some point, Bill Compton covers his ears and lies down to attempt to slumber. Godric drifts in and out of sleep to the familiar rhythms of Eric and Nora’s quarreling. 

Eventually, Nora falls asleep with her head rested on Godric’s lap. Godric runs his fingers through her hair gently to soothe her on the uncomfortable, hard metal floor. Godric is relieved to see Nora feels safe with him still, at least. Godric will always love her.

Bill Compton seemingly sleeps. Eric remains stubbornly awake. He watches Godric and Nora from where he sits across from them, anger burning in his stomach. “Ást-kærr,” ‘Love-dear,’ Godric speaks quietly to keep from waking Nora and Bill Compton. “Komma,” ‘Come,’ Godric requests. They speak in Old Norse now, their words are not for Bill Compton to overhear. 

Eric will not deny Godric. He takes a seat on Godric’s other side, leaving not an inch between them. Eric finds Godric’s free hand to hold, Bill Compton be damned. Godric whispers unapologetically, “Jag kommer inte att lämna henne.” ‘I will not leave her.’ 

Eric is not happy, but he accepts this, “Jag vet.” ‘I know.’ Eric recognizes this is a losing battle. “De kommer att visa oss all den sanna döden om de fångar oss. De kommer att visa Nora den sanna döden. Beordra henne att gå med oss.” ‘They will show us all the true death if they capture us. They will show Nora the true death. Command her to join us.’ Godric hesitates, so Eric insists, “Detta är ditt ansvar som hennes skapare.” ‘This is your responsibility as her maker.’ 

Godric looks down at Nora sleeping peacefully in his lap, her sleepy hand holding tightly to his leg. “Jag kan inte,” ‘I cannot.’ Nor can Godric explain his reasons to Eric. “Jag kommer inte att göra henne till slav.” ‘I will not make her a slave.’ 

Eric rolls his eyes in frustration. “Du kan inte skydda henne från en fängelsecell.” ‘You cannot protect her from within a prison cell.’ Eric begs, “Godric, se anledningen.” ‘Godric, please see reason.’ 

“Det är för sent att springa i alla fall,” ‘It is too late to run anyway,’ Godric informs Eric. “Vi är i hörn. De kommer att vänta utanför dörren i natt.” ‘We are cornered. They will be waiting outside that door come night.’ Nora knows it, but Eric will not accept his fate. “Allt kommer att bli bra, Ást-kær,” ‘All will be well, love-dear,’ Godric assures. Godric is furious with Eric for not leaving when he still had the chance and for causing an explosion that nearly killed Nora, but Godric’s Eric is returned to him. Godric cannot show him useless anger now.

“Han vet för mycket om oss,” ‘He knows too much about us,’ Eric nods toward where Bill Compton sleeps unknowingly. “Han vet att du är min skapare. Han kommer att berätta för myndigheten, och de kommer att använda oss mot varandra.” ‘He knows you are my maker. He will tell the Authority, and they will use us against one another.’ 

Godric nods in understanding. “Låt mig döda honom nu. Han kommer att vara vår syndabock, och i utbyte mot information kanske myndigheten förbarmar sig över oss.” ‘Let me kill him now. He will be our scapegoat, and in exchange for information, the Authority may have mercy on us.’ 

Godric leans toward Eric to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Inga,” ‘No,’ Godric answers without explanation.

Eric somehow manages his frustrations internally. “Vad är det du inte berättar för mig?” ‘What are you not telling me?’ Eric squeezes Godric’s hand, “Lämna mig inte i mörkret..” ‘Do not leave me in the dark.’ 

“Jag är ledsen,” ‘I am sorry,’ Godric offers quietly, his eyes taking pleasure in the details of Eric’s face. Eric does the same, appreciating the softness of Godric’s eyes. 

“Jag minns allt,” ‘I remember everything,’ Eric informs Godric, his thumb tracing the valleys and hills of Godric’s knuckles. They share intimate silence in this stolen time. “Du helade mig också, Godric.” ‘You healed me too, Godric.’ Godric is immediately reminded of their conversation in the basement of Fangtasia. “Det var jag som bara kände till ilska och hunger efter krig. Min kärlek är bara din.” ‘It was I who knew only anger and hunger for war. My love is yours only.’ 

When Eric kisses Godric, all thoughts of their impending danger disappear. Neither cares what Bill Compton witnesses between them, he is meaningless now. All that exists is Eric and Godric and the many centuries of persisting love between them. When the kiss ends, Eric rests his forehead against Godric’s and cherishes the time they have together now. 

“Det var han som antagoniserade häxan - inte jag. Jag skyddade häxorna från honom, men de antog att det var ett bakhåll,” ‘He was the one who antagonized the witch - not me. I protected the witches from him, but they assumed it was an ambush,’ Eric informs Godric very quietly. Even if Bill Compton spoke Old Norse, he could not possibly distinguish Eric’s words. “Han vill sabotera dig och ta tronen.” ‘He wishes to sabotage you and take the throne.’ Eric raises a brow, “Han är en spion.” ‘He is a spy.’

Pieces begin to fall into place. “För vem?” ‘For who?’ Godric asks. 

Eric answers with all Godric needs to know, “Alla som erbjuder honom makt.” ‘All who offer him power.’ The depth of Bill Compton’s power and knowledge is yet to be known, but Godric understands Bill Compton is their enemy. 

“Han är mer användbar för oss alla vid liv,” ‘He is more useful to us all alive,’ Godric asserts. Eric trusts him.

“Vampyren med ditt ansikte…” ‘The vampire with your face…’ Eric begins, unsure how to explain what he witnessed. “Häxorna kunde inte kontrollera honom. Han sökte efter en med en... speciell förmåga.” ‘The witches couldn't control him. He was looking for one with a... special ability.’ Eric adds, “Han blev intresserad av Sookie. Sen kom du.” ‘He took an interest in Sookie. Then you arrived.’ 

Godric confirms Eric’s suspicions, “Warlow skickade honom. Han är…” ‘Warlow sent him. He is…’ Godric finds words to say what he never expected to hear from himself, “Aias son. Han kallade sig Dago.” ‘Aia’s son. He called himself Dago.’ 

Eric shares in Godric’s grief. Two thousand years and Godric only now learns his family lives. Two thousand years: a thousand of those wasted chasing Russell Edgington for Eric when they could have been searching for Warlow. Two thousand years Godric’s human family has suffered in the kind of slavery Godric escaped. Godric’s sister, who suffered as he did, never found the peace he hoped for her.

“Vila nu, min älskade,” ‘Rest now, my love,’ Godric encourages Eric softly. “Vila.” ‘Rest.’ 

“Ta graih aym ort,” ‘I love you,’ Eric kisses Godric again, slowly and deeply. Godric memorizes the feeling as he has countless times before. Godric does not know what awaits them, and takes pleasure where he can now. 

“Ta graih aym ort, Ást-kærr,” ‘I love you, love-dear,’ Godric returns softly. “Tvivla aldrig på detta.” ‘ Never doubt this.’ 

“Aldrig,” ‘Never,’ Eric swears to Godric. He rests his head on Godric’s shoulder and his free hand on Godric’s chest, his other still holding on tightly to Godric’s hand as exhaustion takes over. Godric remains awake through the day, keeping watch over his family. Godric has no trust for Bill Compton. Godric has no intention to waste a single moment of his reunion with Eric and Nora.

Chapter Text

22

-

London, 1895

“Please forgive me, Salome,” Nora pleads in what she assumes is the privacy of Salome’s private quarters. “I am so dreadfully sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. It will not happen again.” 

Salome simply walks past Nora, ignoring her entirely. “Salome, please,” Nora begs. She drops to her knees before Salome and takes Salome’s hand in her own, “Please speak to me. Say something. I am sick with guilt.” Godric watches from the shadows. His intention was not to invade his progeny’s privacy: Nora felt a fear and Godric, protective as ever, came to her immediately. Nora is not in danger; Godric struggles to understand where this feeling came from. 

Salome stops in her tracks, seeming to enjoy Nora’s begging. “Why should I assuage your guilt? It is well-earned,” Salome responds cruelly. Godric watches the interaction curiously. Nora does not often share the details of her political career with Godric, but Godric is well aware of Salome’s desire for power.

“I wish only to serve you, to serve Lilith,” Nora goes on. Lilith? “It was only a mistake, what I said to Remus. I am so sorry. Please, Salome. I will do anything to prove my loyalty to you, and to Lilith. I have loved you and followed you as my own maker for centuries.” 

Godric can hardly believe the words coming from Nora’s mouth. Remus. 1- 1- 1- The name echoes in Godric’s mind - along with a horrible panic. 1- 1-

“How am I to believe you when you have not even denounced your maker for Lilith?” Salome asks. Godric recognizes the rhetoric immediately: Sanguinista. It is a following Godric has staunchly avoided and protected his young ones from for centuries. Unsuccessfully, as it turns out. 

Nora remains silent. “You are not a believer,” Salome accuses. “You are no child of mine, or of Lilith.” Salome raises her hand, perhaps simply to slap or possibly to decapitate Godric’s Nora. 

Godric does not hesitate to appear between them and grab Salome’s wrist to stop her from bringing harm to his Nora. This is not a fight Salome can win. “You shall not raise your hand to her. Never.” Godric sees only shock in Salome’s eyes as he throws her across the room. Her head slams harshly against a wall, rendering her unconscious. 

“Godric!” Nora screams in shock. “What have you done?!” She rises from her knees and backs away from Godric in… fear. It is not something Nora has ever shown Godric. 

Godric does not understand. “She is Sanguinista, my little one. She wishes only to control your mind.” He steps closer to Nora, and she steps back again. “To break the bond between Maker and progeny is-”

“Release me!” Nora interrupts with the two most painful words she could possibly have said to Godric. Godric is shocked to silence. Nora’s fear turns to anger, “Look what you’ve done! You will ruin everything! You are a savage and a monster. Death and suffering follows you. I do not belong to you. I belong only to Lilith.” 

The pain is like nothing Godric knows. “You know not what you say,” Godric whispers very gently, terrified to lose Nora. “Please, come home with me. You are in danger - more danger than you know. Please let me-”

“I know all I need,” Nora responds stubbornly. “Release me. Say it. Say, ‘I release you.’ I will not be controlled by you any longer.” Tears trail down Godric’s face. “Say it!”

“I cannot, my Nora,” Godric is too late. Nora is lost to him. “I cannot. I love you with all I am.”

Nora tenses her jaw, “You are a barbarian, you don’t know love. Get out of my life. I never want to see you again.” 

Godric can protect Nora or he can keep their family together: he cannot do both. “My little one, please-” 

“Get out!” Godric does not know how he forces himself to obey, but he does. Godric leaves his heart in London, and he is never again the same. Their family is broken. Godric learns of a loneliness he never before knew existed.

-

New Orleans, 2010

The quiet ends only minutes after sunset: “In the name of the one true vampire Authority, in whose wisdom and justice all is made manifest by God, you are under arrest. Get down on your knees, hands behind your head.” So begins a very long, very unpleasant night. The silver doesn’t particularly bother Godric, but he struggles to hear Eric and Nora groan as their skin sizzles beneath their bonds. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 

The Authority is just as Godric recalls: disguised cleverly underground at a power plant. Godric, Eric, Nora, and Bill are bonded with silver and watched closely by armed guards in the back of a van as they are taken to their destination. Godric closes his eyes, remains silent, and counts until the van stops and he is guided out with a gloved hand on his bicep. The group is greeted in a large, empty, industrial entryway by the one person Godric is least interested in seeing. “Darling,” Salome greets Nora without a trace of warmth in her voice. 

Godric should not listen, he knows. He should close his eyes and think of anything at all to distract him from the interaction between Nora and Salome. He should trust that, after several centuries, Nora knows how to protect herself. “Salome, I never had any intention of betraying you,” Nora begins before Salome silences her.

“Fairy tales are for children,” Salome replies, making Godric’s skin crawl. He hates Salome like he hated his own master so long ago. More, if such a thing is possible. “Mr. Compton. Mr. Northman.” 

Salome smirks as she greets over Nora’s shoulder, “And Godric. Isn’t life full of surprises?” Godric does not give her the satisfaction of responding. Eric watches the interaction curiously, surprised by Godric, who is famously adored by all, especially the ancients.

Nora tries again, “Salome, please listen, I-” 

Salome raises her hand to Nora, and Godric cannot control himself. Again, Salome’s raised wrist is in his grip. The silver binds on his wrists do not stop him from commanding the room. It all happens so quickly, the guards are too shocked to respond in time. Nora gasps as she realizes what’s happening. “Never,” Godric hisses an echo of the past, and only Salome needs to hear his meaning. “Nora is mine. I found her in the rubble of the explosion and commanded her to defect from the Authority. She will always be mine.” 

Godric releases Salome and steps back. Guards regain the control Godric offers back to them. Salome hardly reacts to Godric’s performance. “We will talk later. Many times, I’m sure,” Salome offers before guiding the group to a single elevator at the end of the space. Godric keeps his eyes lowered as a guard unnecessarily and forcibly shoves him forward. “Down to reception,” Salome instructs a guard, her eyes on Godric. “This one goes directly to Questioning for preparation. Take great care, he is extremely volatile.”

“Don’t do this, Salome,” Nora’s pleas are the last thing Godric hears before he is taken out of the elevator away from his loved ones. 

Godric soon learns that preparation at Questioning is a very pleasant way to describe draining Godric’s blood and replacing it with liquid silver to weaken him. According to the young woman who runs the machines, it’s a compliment, something saved only for ancients like Godric. Godric does not give the satisfaction of witnessing Godric’s suffering to whoever sits behind the cameras. 

“Damn, how old are you dude?” The young woman who calls herself Molly asks in shock. “Usually at this point they’re vomiting blood or at least unconscious. James, spot me.” She pulls Godri’s eye open with her fingers and points a flashlight directly into his eye. Godric flinches slightly in his bonds. “Oh, yeah, you’re feeling it. Color me impressed, though. You’re a tough one. We’ll wrap this up soon.” 

When Godric finally twitches toward the end of the treatment when he feels Nora’s fear, Molly and the guards do not need to know it has nothing to do with the silver. Nora calls to Godric, and Godric can do nothing. All Godric can do at this moment is trust that Salome has far too much invested in Nora to show her the true death so soon. 

Godric hears distinct footsteps enter the room, but keeps his eyes closed. The silver stops pumping into his veins, and his blood stops flowing out of him. “Godric, it’s been too long,” Roman Zimojic greets. Molly and the guards leave the room. “Stari Grad Hvar, if memory serves. The good old days. You know, I don’t normally do this sort of thing, but my chancellors were especially unenthusiastic about questioning you. Any idea what that’s all about?”

Godric remains silent and keeps his eyes closed. “That is, except Salome, of course. She really does not care for you. But we can’t have you meeting your true death too soon, can we? I need something from you first. Consider it a request from an old friend.” 

Godric only gives Roman his silence. 

Roman sighs in the way younger vampires often do, still clinging to a breath that left them long ago. “Godric, you are an esteemed member of the vampire community. In the eyes of the Authority, you are one of the most well respected vampires in the world. You have had every opportunity to join this Authority and make a real impact. Even now, you have more than enough votes.” 

Godric could laugh at Roman’s suggestion, but he remains still and silent. “Are you now or have you ever been part of the Sanguinista movement?” Silence. “Godric, I don’t want to do this, but I need your cooperation. Molim te, prijatelju.” ‘Please, my friend.’  

Godric gives only silence.

“Why did you command Nora to defect? You’re smarter than that. She gave you plenty of warning. If you wanted to escape, we never would have caught you. You want to be here,” Roman shares his theory. “You know what else I can’t understand? Why be a Maker, anyway? There’s no need - not for you. I mean, half the Authority would kill for you. You don’t need to make new vampires to obey you.”

Roman makes a tsk-ing sound with his tongue and leans closer to where Godric is restrained to a metal chair, “I don’t think you’re Sanguinista, but I think you have all the information I need. I know Nora is Sanguinista, but what I don’t know yet is: who else.” Roman adds, “You know as well as I do that the Sanguinista movement is the most dangerous cult to ever affect vampires. They have infiltrated my Authority. Whatever Nora is to you, she has committed treason of the highest order. Tell me why.” 

Godric opens his eyes to look into Roman’s. Roman patiently awaits Godric’s answer. “Ne biste mi vjerovali. Previše ti je prirasla srcu.” ‘ You would not believe me. She is too close to your heart.’ It is Roman’s turn for silence. Godric speaks to Roman from the heart: “Vi ste moćan vođa. Mudar iznad svojih godina. Previše sam jednostavan za politiku: ne vidim mane u ljubavi. Aleksej bi bio ponosan.” ‘You are a powerful leader. Wise beyond your years. I am too simple for politics: I see no fault in love. Alexei would be proud of you.’ 

Roman understands Godric’s indirect statement: Salome is Sanguinista. Godric offers sincerely, “Žao mi je.” ‘I am sorry.’ 

Roman shakes his head, “Wow. I see it now. The rumors are true, you have finally gone mad.” Roman stands to instruct the guards, “Take him back to the block. 50% silver IV every three hours.” The seed of doubt was already in Roman’s mind, Godric gave all Roman needed to hear to succumb to the nest madness. Godric needs only to keep Eric and Nora alive until the nest self-destructs. 

The guards drag Godric’s limp body to a row of prison cells. The first thing Godric hears is Eric and Nora bickering, but all silences when Godric enters. The guards throw him into a prison cell and lock the silver door behind him. Godric appreciates the cold floor on his smoking skin. Eric lowers his voice to a whisper, “Do you see what you’ve done? This is on you, Nora.” Nora can only stare at Godric’s tortured body with an aching heart. “All of this. Is. On. You.”

Nora reaches her thin arm carefully between the silver prison bars separating her from Godric and rests her hand affectionately on his right shoulder, the one she’s sure hurts more than any other part of Godric’s body. Godric is more cold than Nora has ever known him to be. Godric lies still with closed eyes, but treasures Nora’s soft touch. “I never wanted this,” Nora swears, her voice full of emotion. 

“Fix it,” Eric unreasonably demands of Nora. Godric cannot find enough energy to intervene in their squabbling.

A recognizable voice speaks loudly over the cell block speakers, “Welcome to New Orleans. I am sure we all wish it were under better circumstances. Mr. Compton, tell me why you, Mr. Northman, and Mr. Godric made contact with Ms. Gainsborough.” 

“She was our prisoner,” Bill answers transparently, “she’s done absolutely nothing that would, in any way, compromise her position or her loyalty to the Authority.”

“There were others aligned with you, waiting to aid and abet.” Godric wonders if he’s already delusional with pain, because he quickly loses track of the conversation. Eric must be right, Bill Compton is much more involved than anyone realized. “We killed nine of them. Where were they taking you?” 

“No idea,” Eric answers honestly. 

“Sir,” Bill urges, “I urge you to release Sheriff Northman and Chancellor Gainsborough. They deserve mercy.” It’s curious to all that Bill conveniently leaves Godric out of his generous offer. 

“A noble gesture, Mr. Compton, but a lie we all know,” the voice answers before disappearing, replaced with a whirring sound. 

“Oh, you just fucked us,” another prisoner announces. 

“The UVs!” Nora gasps. Godric feels his skin burn once more, but does not react except to close his eyes more tightly. The others scream in pain. The lights only remain on for increments of a few seconds at a time, likely for Godric’s benefit. A vampire as old as Godric would not survive long exposure to light, even artificial light.

“Motherfucker, turn it off!” Eric shouts. He will not watch his maker burn for Bill Compton’s lies, “You want to know who killed Nan Flanagan? Who the Sanguinistas are? You want to know about the witches or Russell Edgington or fucking Warlow, fine. I’ll tell you what you want to know, just turn it off! Now!” 

The lights turn off. Guards enter and take Eric away. Godric resists every urge to find some way to keep Eric close. 

“I’m sorry,” Nora’s cries distract Godric. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

Godric will not abandon his Nora. He turns his head to face Nora, eyes squeezed open with force. Godric’s voice is raspy in a way Nora does not recognize. “Shh… Ha styrka nu för mig lilla. Behaga.” ‘Shh… Have strength for me now, little one. Please.’ Nora does not hesitate to reach through the bars again to hold Godric’s hand gently. Godric holds Nora’s hand with reassurance as he always has. “Detta är inte ditt fel.” ‘This is not your fault.’ 

If the people behind the cameras notice Godric and Nora’s soft moment, they do not interrupt. Eric buys them time - a lot of time - spinning half-cocked lies about Nan Flanagan, Bill Compton, and Queen Sophie-Anne, among others. Eric tells the Authority what they want to hear, and more importantly, what they really, really don’t want to hear. Eric keeps them away from Godric and Nora because Eric will not do nothing while his family is tortured before his eyes. 

This cycle goes on for two long days and nights, and in this short time, so much changes. Authority members disappear one by one. Bill Compton disappears. When Salome finally comes to the prison block for Godric, she is not alone. “What the fuck?” Eric exclaims when his eyes meet Russell Edgington’s. 

“My, my, look at what we have here,” Korun speaks, making Godric’s skin crawl in a way only he can. “You sure do know how to party, Salome. Although it looks like our guest of honor has already had a bit too much fun.” It is a true effort for Godric to keep his legs from shaking as guards come to take him away from Eric and Nora again.

Eric threatens in a dark tone even Godric has rarely heard, “What you do to him, I will inflict tenfold on you. I swear it.”

“Promises, promises, Viking,” Russell replies playfully, unaffected as he takes Godric away. Godric is back in the Questioning room once again restrained to the administration chair. “You do look pretty in silver.” Godric must be hallucinating. He does not know how it is possible that the Authority imagined his own personal nightmare for him. This cannot be real. 

“Godric,” Salome begins, “this is such a terrible waste. You have such potential. You could command armies, and yet you suffer needlessly. We’re the same, you and I. You see that, don’t you? We suffered so much in our human lives. We have a certain invaluable influence in the vampire world. We are not constrained by modernity.”

Korun rolls his eyes and leans back against the adjoining wall as Salome gives her speech. “We would both do anything for Nora.” Godric makes his first mistake in meeting Salome’s eyes now. “Roman, with all his flaws, was right about one thing: you are here of your own free will. Vampires like us, we are never truly caged.”

Salome leans forward until she is inches from Godric’s face. “Are you a believer? Do you believe vampires were made in the image of God? Do you believe in Lilith?” Godric gives Salome only his silence. “You will thank me for this. You and Nora.”

“And that darling Northman,” Korun adds. “He will be a fine addition to my collection. Unless Remus wants him more and makes it worth my while.” Godric cannot process Korun’s words quickly enough, but he does register Remus’s name. 1, 2-

With a strength Godric could not fight even at his strongest, Korun grabs Godric’s jaw and forces it open. “Oh, now, I know you like the fight, but you’re gonna want what we’re giving.” 

Salome comes closer, and Godric feels a wetness on his otherwise dry tongue. It tastes rancid, not dissimilar to the taste of old corpses or diseased humans. As Godric coughs, Korun holds his palm over Godric’s mouth to leave him only the option of swallowing. Korun releases him and laughs, “Stupid boy. You don’t know the gift you’ve been given.” 

Godric watches Korun and Salome drink whatever they gave him - which appears to be blood. Godric watches the room twist and distort before his eyes. Godric feels his fangs protrude of their own accord as a powerful hunger overtakes him. The numbness disappears, and Godric feels it all: the pain, the hunger, the indignation, the fear. 

Godric feels millennia of self-control slip from his fingers, and he is terrified like he has not been since he first became a vampire.

Chapter Text

23

-

Rome, ~45 B.C.

Godric’s presumptions about vampires are largely true. Upon first waking in this new life, if it can be called life, Godric feels a hunger like he has never known, surpassed in strength only by his fury. Godric learns immediately of his master’s new powers over him. His master commands that Godric lies still, and Godric’s body obeys. His master commands that Godric thanks him for taking his life, and Godric’s voice belongs only to his master. 

“Cara!” Godric’s master calls as they return indoors. Cara, the slave woman who has cared for Godric in every way she could ever since he was first brought here as a young child, is now older than most, slave or Roman. Godric has always felt love for Cara, but Godric feels his heart break as he watches her hobble across the floor to a cruel master. Even Godric does not know what their master plans for her. 

“Pasce ab ea,” ‘Feed from her,’ their master commands. 

“Quaeso, ne-” ‘Please, do not-’ Godric pleads with more emotion he ever recalls hearing himself speak. 

“Sicut factor tuus, ego praecipio tibi,” ‘As your maker I command you,’ the master interrupts Godric’s pleas. 

Tears fall, and Godric does not yet know he cries blood. Cara is not afraid. 

Cara is crying, too. “Ta ooilley ny reddyn mie, fer beg,” ‘All is well, little one,’ Cara speaks the slave language before their master with a sad smile. She knows this is her end, and she is unafraid. 

There are no words, in Latin or Gallic, to express the pain between them. There is no time for apologies or gratitude. “Ta graih aym ort,” ‘I love you,’ Godric’s new fangs find their way to Cara’s neck.

“Ta graih aym ort,” ‘I love you,’ Cara returns in a whisper. Godric steals the blood of the woman who raised him in this foreign land and risked her own safety many times for his benefit. 

“Desine, cum cor cessat agere,” ‘Do not stop until the heart stops beating,’ their master instructs. Godric steals the life of the woman who taught him to survive.

When it’s over, Godric lies Cara’s lifeless body onto the floor and cries shamefully over her. His master crouches down to speak into Godric’s ear, “Dic mihi quid ei dixisti.” ‘Tell me what you said to her.’

Godric cries in a way he does not recall ever crying before. Godric becomes hysterical when his blood tears fall into Cara’s still chest, “Eam amo.” ‘I love her.’

“Item de damnatis. Non es capax amoris. Creatura es mortis, et vivi unum solum bonum es: et non est amor.” ‘You are of the damned. You are not capable of love. You are a creature of death and the living are good for only one thing: and it is not love.’ Even Godric did not know his master was capable of this cruelty. “Desine naturam pugnare tuam.” ‘Stop fighting your nature.’ 

Godric gathers his hatred and anger and awaits the right moment to strike. In the middle of the day, trapped in his master's coffin, Godric finally plunges his hand into his master’s chest and removes his dead heart. Godric is sure the pain will kill him, too, if Remus does not reach him first. 

-

New Orleans, 2010

Godric finds consciousness abruptly when he feels Nora calling to him. A woman screams in terror. “Godric, stop!” Eric’s panicked shout catches Godric’s attention. The world spins, and Godric sees blood everywhere, hears his master’s voice and another unfamiliar voice haunting him, telling him to not fight his nature. Godric is disoriented, caught between worlds. Godric’s vision is blurred and his thoughts slowed.

Godric pauses his movements in confusion. Where is he? “Godric, du kommer att döda henne. Låt henne gå.” ‘Godric, you will kill her. Let her go.’

These are not words Godric has ever heard Eric say. Godric opens his eyes and pulls back from… from Nora? Nora, whose screams suddenly become cries. Nora’s neck is bloody and the wound does not heal with any decent speed. Nora is beneath Godric, crying weakly and holding her pained, bleeding neck. Nora looks at Godric in a fear he has never seen in her eyes. “Godric, titta på mig.” ‘Godric, look at me, ” Eric commands. Eric’s heart calls to Godric, and Godric is helpless but to respond. 

Godric finds Eric trapped in a cell nearby. They are on the prison block at the Authority in New Orleans. Everyone is dead, save for Nora and Eric. The room smells of fresh blood. “Det stämmer, det är bra. Kom till mig.” ‘That’s right, that’s good. Come to me.’ Godric only blinks at Eric in confusion. His face is covered in blood, and Nora surely sees the monster within, but to Eric, Godric has never looked so small and helpless. 

“Haec est natura tua. Desine pugnam.” ‘This is your nature. Stop fighting.’ Godric turns his head quickly, confident his master is just behind him, but sees nothing. 

“Ostende te ipsum!” ‘Show yourself!’ Godric demands to the ghosts in Latin. It is not often Eric has ever heard Godric raise his voice, even more rare he has heard Godric speak Latin. 

“Godric,” Eric demands again, louder and more clearly than Godric’s master had. “Jag behöver dig. Komma.” ‘I need you. Come.’ Godric will not deny him. Godric appears before Eric’s cell and destroys the silver lock with ease. Eric wastes no time pulling Godric into his arms, “Jag har dig.” ‘I’ve got you.’ Godric finds the world much more silent in Eric’s arms, although it spins beyond control.

“Berätta vad de gjorde mot dig,” ‘Tell me what they did to you,’ Eric instructs Godric urgently. He pulls back only far enough to hold Godric’s cheek and look into his wide, dark, bloodshot eyes. “Är du sjuk?” ‘Are you sick?’ It’s difficult to believe Godric became this sick so quickly, but Eric has no other explanation. Russell Edgington and Salome only took him away no more than thirty minutes ago. 

Godric does not know how to answer Eric’s questions. Godric looks into Eric’s eyes intensely as his mind struggles to comprehend reality. Eric grounds Godric as he always has: with soft touches and softer words. Godric confides in Eric: “Han talar till mig. Han förföljer mig. Den sanna döden räcker inte.” ‘ He speaks to me. He haunts me. The true death is not enough.’ Godric sounds insane, he knows this on some level, but he is too confused to distinguish this from reality. Godric trusts Eric even now.

“Lilith’s blood,” Nora chokes out a shaky answer from where she struggles to stand. “He’ll be fine, but we have to get out of here, Eric. Take him home and lock him in a bulletproof coffin until the high wears off.” 

Eric believes Nora. His hand moves through Godric’s hair soothingly as he murmurs all too lightheartedly, “Who would have thought? You are a fun drunk.” Godric looks at Nora, finally starting to put the pieces together. Godric hurt Nora. Eric sees the shame on Godric’s face immediately. “Godric, stop,” he insists. He pulls Godric’s head to rest against Eric’s chest, hiding Nora from his vision. Godric lets him. Something is very wrong with Godric, and he needs Eric to guide him. Godric hurt Nora.

Before Godric can drown in guilt, Eric orients Godric to their current predicament, “Nora needs you. I need you, Godric. Help me get us home. Do you understand?” Godric nods. All Godric needs to understand is that he trusts Eric, and this could never change. “Good. Stay close to me. You too, Nora.”

The compound is silent. Dessicrated human and vampire bodies line their path out. Godric is horrified to see the destruction he knows he caused. Eric knows Godric intimately enough to know this is undeniably Godric’s doing. Eric is impressed, but keeps his unhelpful thoughts to himself for now. They are all deciding just how to proceed when the elevator dings and opens. “Thank God, finally,” Tara’s voice shakes with emotion as she tightly embraces Godric. “You scared me half to death.” 

Without thought or question, Godric protectively holds Tara closely as he watches disturbing visions over her shoulder fearfully. “My little one,” Godric utters recognition quietly into Tara’s hair.

“Eric, seriously, what the actual fuck?” Pamela asks in irritation from the elevator, a dismembered hand in her grip. “Who the fuck is she?”

“Who the fuck is she? ” Nora asks Godric, clearly offended by the baby vampire in his arms. Godric’s mind is too distant to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Godric’s ears ring until all he hears is his master and the woman of blood beside him. They speak horrible things to Godric in tandem, and all Godric can do is watch. 

“I know you are not talking about me like that, you raggedy bitch,” Tara argues instinctively, fangs protruding. “Godric called me because he needed me, we’re here to save your asses.” 

Eric cannot resist the argument, “Godric is high as a fucking kite from some fucked-up blood ritual, not to mention exhausted, tortured, and starved. He called us all, it wasn’t intentional.”

“All?” Tara and Nora reply in kind. They look at each other in realization, then anger.

“Eric, what did you do?” Nora accuses, brokenhearted at the realization that Godric chose another progeny in Nora’s absence. 

“He was suicidal, now he’s not. You’re welcome for resolving the situation without any help from you whatsoever. You can thank me later, Nora,” Eric’s patience very quickly thins.

“He was suicidal, so you had him make this foul-mouthed harlot to replace me?” Nora accuses angrily. 

“No, of course not, because another one of you would only have made him worse, and Tara and I actually fixed him!” Eric falls right into Nora’s argument. 

“Toties te necabo, quot mihi necesse est!” ‘I will kill you as many times as I must!’ Godric shouts at nothing over Tara’s shoulder in a jarring tone even Eric has never heard. Godric’s grip on Tara tightens protectively.

The room is silenced but for Eric, who touches Godric’s face and commands his attention, “Godric.” Godric looks to Eric and knows he was once again lost to reality. “It’s not real. Whatever it is you are shouting at is not real. I am real. Focus on me.”

Pamela is the first to speak up, “In case you have not noticed, we need to get the fuck out of this dungeon - like now. Let’s move. Sookie, Jessica, and Jason are here somewhere looking for fucking Bill Compton. You seen him?”

“Not since we first arrived,” Eric admits. “Russell Edgington may be on the loose somewhere in this building. Let’s leave before we have to find that out the hard way.”

“Quod mihi feceris, erravisse. Numquam eam laedere.” ‘What you did to me was wrong. I will never hurt her.’ Godric mumbles at the vision of his maker with crazed eyes fixed at some point in the distance. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Tara asks Godric in a kind voice, looking into Godric’s distant eyes with concern. “Who are you talking to?”

“Give him space, Tara,” Eric instructs, keeping a firm hand on Godric’s shoulder for everyone’s safety. Eric could not physically overpower Godric any more easily than anyone else here, but Godric at least seems to listen to him even in this disorientation. “We can catch up later. Get in the elevator.” They all pile in for what Pam considers the most awkward elevator ride of all time. Pam taps a finger of the dead hand against the screen, and the elevator moves.

Until it doesn’t. The elevator breaks down between two floors after a loud noise and a shake. “An earthquake?” Nora asks. 

“I somehow doubt it,” Eric replies. 

“Come on, let’s get out and take the stairs,” Nora instructs. “Help me.” Together, they force the elevator doors open. One by one, they all crawl out of the elevator into the building.

“Bill, stop!” They all hear Jessica shout down the hall.

“I’m gettin’ real sick of hearin’ about fucking Bill Compton,” Tara complains. “Come on, Sookie needs us.”

“Do what you want, I’m getting Godric out of here,” Eric announces. “Nora, show me the stairs.” 

“What if they did to him what they did to Godric?” Tara asks. “Sookie and Jason don’t stand a chance.”

“Read my lips, Tara: I do not fucking care about Sookie and her human brother!” Eric shouts, raising Godric’s anxiety. Godric covers his ears, closes his eyes, and lowers his head as a mixture of the bleeds and tears fall. 

“Don’t you yell at Tara,” Pamela bickers back at Eric.

“Considering Russell Edgington may be anywhere, we are not, as a group, being particularly covert,” Nora informs the group. “Eric, I’ll show you and Godric to the stairs. Find a car and wait for us. You two, go after the others, I’ll join you shortly.” The group agrees, and Godric is too tortured to realize they’re leaving Tara and Pamela behind. 

“Can you handle him on your own?” Nora asks as she, Eric, and Godric hurry down to the end of the floor. 

“I have been handling him on my own all this time, I don’t see what’s different now,” Eric snaps back. 

Nora forces open a locked door to reveal an emergency staircase, “Thank you.” Nora’s words are oddly genuine. Nora looks at Godric with teary eyes, “I’m sorry. I…” Nora is too fearful to touch Godric as she truly wants to, but she looks at him with sad eyes. “Thank you, Eric. For everything. For caring for him.”

Eric sees all of the meaning in Nora’s simple words, and only replies quietly, “Fuck you, Nora.” Eric guides Godric to the stairs and quietly instructs, “Upp. Sluta inte förrän vi når ytan.” ‘Up. Don’t stop until we reach the surface.’ Godric obeys, Eric just behind him. Nora joins the others quickly. 

Nearly halfway up the long staircase. Godric and Eric hear a loud screech. The building shakes again. Eric, for once, keeps his commentary to himself and continues to bring Godric’s attention back to him as needed. “I’m here, I’m right behind you,” Eric assures, although he can’t deny that he’s feeling the madness of starvation, exhaustion, and torture, too.

They soon reach what Eric assumes is the surface as the staircase finally ends in a small metal room. “Damn it,” Eric struggles with the tightly locked door. Even if he could destroy the lock on a good day, this is not a good day. “Godric, help me,” Eric requests. Silence. “Godric-” Eric turns to see Godric facing a massively fucked-up looking Russell Edgington, who must have followed them up the stairs. 

One-armed, one-eyed, and beaten bloody, Russell Edgington locks evil eyes on Godric, and Godric looks at him with an expression Eric can only describe as feral. “What did you do to him, Russell?” Eric asks in the stand-off. “Tell me, and I’ll consider mercy.” 

Russell doesn’t laugh cruelly like Eric expects. Russell is… scared of Godric. “All I did was offer him all the power in the world he apparently can’t handle. Not my fault he’s out of his fucking mind, the little freak. Wasted Lilith’s blood on him, and how does he repay us? He killed Salome, along with everyone else on the compound. Should have known he was mad all along - he’d have to be to kill his very own maker. You were a traitor to your race then, slave boy, and you always will be. You don’t deserve the gift of immortality.” 

Godric bares his fangs and hisses at Russell, and Russell takes a step back. The power goes out, and all is dark. Even Eric can hardly see in this pitch blackness, but he can hear Godric and Russell’s fight well enough. The lights flicker back on, and Eric sees Godric pin Russell to the hard ground. “Eric?” Godric calls, “Är detta på riktigt? Korun?” ‘Is this real? Korun?’ 

The building may very well be coming down around them, but Eric takes his time stepping forward to join Godric, “Ja. Jag är verklig, och Korun är verklig.” ‘Yes. I am real, and Korun is real.’ 

“Döda honom nu, annars gör jag det.” ‘Kill him now, or I will.’ Godric orders. Eric sees his Death from the taiga a thousand years ago. Eric sees their life together, sees the vampire he has loved all these years. Even beyond sanity, Eric knows Godric. Eric knows in this moment that Godric is his and everything will be okay. 

Eric kneels above Russell’s head and looks down at him, taking in the moment. “A thousand years,” Eric smiles. He wraps his hands tightly around Russell Edgington’s neck, savoring the feeling. 

“You don’t want to do this,” Russell scrambles for any reason to be kept alive. He tells Godric, “You’re in danger - your whole fucking clan. Remus is on his way, and he will kill you and anyone you’ve ever loved. He will be here any moment. He could be here now. You need me.” Terror finds Godric’s features. 

“I will kill him, too,” Eric responds, his voice soft as he breaks the bones in Russell Edgington’s neck and removes his head from his body. “You are nothing.” Korun’s body melts into nothing more than a pile of blood on the ground. Godric only stares at the blood, his mind far away. 

“Proditor,” ‘Traitor,’ Godric’s maker’s voice echoes. “Nihil es.” ‘You are nothing.’ Godric looks behind Eric and sees only darkness. 

Eric quickly appreciates the moment, breathes a sigh of relief he’s been holding since his family’s massacre, and touches Godric’s cheek with his bloody hand to catch his attention, “Vi måste gå.” ‘We must go.’ Godric gives Eric that frightened expression, and Eric ensures, “Vi är ensamma nu. Det är bara du och jag, hjartað mitt .” ‘We are alone now. It’s just you and me, my heart.’ 

“Remus me vindicabit,” ‘Remus will avenge me,’ Godric hears. He turns around, his eyes flitting about the dark room in a panic. “Currere non potes. Celare non potes. Vincere non potes.” ‘ You cannot run. You cannot hide. You cannot win.’

“Ostende te ipsum!” ‘ Show yourself!’ Godric shouts. He chases after visions of his master to attack, but only succeeds in slamming himself against a wall.

“Godric,” Eric tries to intervene, but exhaustion is setting in. “Godric!” Eric shouts as he loses patience. He puts his hand on Godric’s shoulder again. Godric whips around quickly and grabs Eric’s neck in one hand. Eric lets him. Eric would be too weak to fight Godric with all his strength; he is helpless to Godric’s madness now. “Godric, stop,” Eric speaks softly, hoping to ease Godric’s fears. 

Godric sees Eric’s face and removes his hand from Eric’s neck quickly. Godric steps back, fearful he will hurt Eric. “Jag är ledsen. Jag är-“ ‘ I’m sorry. I’m-’ Godric turns his head again as he sees his master once more. 

Eric steps forward fearlessly and holds Godric’s face to make him look at Eric, “Titta på mig. Bara jag.” ‘Look at me. Just me.’ Godric looks into Eric’s eyes trustingly. “Jag kommer inte att svika dig.” ‘ I will not fail you.’ Godric believes him. 

Godric nods in understanding. Eric smells smoke and hurries to the door with Godric in tow. “Hjälp mig att öppna det här.” ‘Help me open this.’ It takes both their strength, but they manage to break the door open as smoke leaks in through the staircase. 

“Help us! Somebody help!” Godric identifies the voice as Sam Merlotte. 

Godric disappears from Eric before Eric has time to stop him. “Motherfucker,” Eric complains as he struggles to keep up with Godric.

Godric finds Sam Merlotte, a sobbing little girl, and a very wounded young woman lying in a gutter. “Godric?” Sam asks in disbelief. “Help her. Please, I know I’m asking a lot, and I got no right, but please heal her. She’s dying.” 

Godric’s master’s voice echoes, “Damnatus es.” ‘You are damned.’ Godric kneels before the woman, bites a fresh wound in his wrist, and allows the dying woman to drink his blood.

“Not you again,” Eric complains as he finds Godric with Sam Merlotte, a dying woman, and a little girl. 

A van pulls up beside them, and Jason Stackhouse waves through the open window, “Hey, guys!” 

Nora leans over Jason from the passenger seat and informs Eric, “Get in, this place is going to blow any second. Move!”

By some act of luck - surely not God - they all survive the night. The Vampire Authority is once again rubble. The governor of Louisiana declares war on vampires on the radio. The world makes less and less sense by the minute. 

Sam, Luna, and Emma are dropped off at the nearest hospital. Jessica, Sookie, and Jason are returned to Bon Temps. Tara holds Godric in the back of the van and soothes him patiently through the very long night. Eric, Nora, and Pamela brainstorm their next move in the front of the van. The sun will soon rise. 

“Godric told me to take Tara to the Öland,” Pam informs Eric. “I couldn’t get her past Mississippi, obviously, but right about now, Öland is not sounding like a terrible place for a family reunion.” 

“We are personally responsible for the destruction of all law and order for vampire-kind. We can’t abandon them now,” Nora argues. 

“What the fuck do we owe ‘vampire-kind’? What exactly are we going to do about it, anyway? We’ve got a certain ‘Billith’ problem to deal with if we’re going to stay in Louisiana, and none of us has any idea how to fight him. News-flash, Mary Poppins, you’re not Authority anymore, Godric isn’t King, Eric sure as fuck isn’t Sheriff, and my shit’s probably already been taken from Fangtasia. Let’s get out while we still can,” Pamela bickers with Nora as naturally as Eric does. Eric would be proud under other circumstances.

“Who says we still can?” Nora asks. “The curfew is in effect immediately. We need to go to ground now.” Eric begins to drive the car silently. “Where are you going? Eric? Hello?” Eric does not respond.

“Asshole,” Pamela crosses her arms and leans back in her seat.

Chapter Text

24

-

Marrakesh, 1070

London and Madrid had been more disgusting and bland than Godric could have prepared Eric for, so Eric’s expectations for Marrakesh are low. Eric despises sharing Godric, despises each ‘old friend’ they meet more than the last. Eric misses the taiga more day by day. Despite this, Eric follows Godric anywhere he leads with a loyalty Godric has never known. 

“Världen förändras, min Eric. Det här är väldigt bra. Vi måste vara en del av det,” ‘The world is changing, my Eric. This is very good. We must be part of it,’ Godric tells Eric, and Eric wishes the world did not change in this way. Eric misses dearly the days when Eric alone was Godric’s world. Despite this, Eric only nods in understanding. 

Marrakesh is cleaner than the more northern cities, at least. The air is dry and hot. The humans smell irresistible; Eric struggles to savor their blood as he drinks. “Mata dig mätt, Ást-kærr,” ‘Feed to your fill, love-dear,’ Godric urges with a gentle hand on the back of Eric’s head, Eric’s face buried in a young man’s neck. Eric obeys gladly.

“Varför smakar han så gott?” ‘Why does he taste so good?’ Eric asks as the man’s body hits the ground.

Godric wipes a stray drop of human blood from Eric’s lip with his thumb and sucks on his thumb to taste what Eric tastes. Godric encourages, “Komma.” ‘Come.’ Eric moves to lift the human’s drained body, but Godric corrects, “Lämna honom. Han kommer att hittas på morgonen och få en ordentlig begravning. Komma.” ‘Leave him. He will be found in the morning and given a proper burial. Come.’ It feels odd to abandon the body here on the street, but Eric obeys. 

“Lyssna noga, lilla,” ‘Listen closely, little one,’ Godric requests as they walk together. “Vart vi är på väg är ingenting som där vi har varit. Du har en skönhet som dessa vampyrer aldrig har känt. De kommer att vilja ha dig, men ge dig inte åt dem. Förstår du?” ‘Where we are going is nothing like where we have been. You have a beauty these vampires have never known. They will want you, but do not give yourself to them. Do you understand?’

Eric, in his youth and innocence, teases, “Redan avundsjuk?” ‘Jealous already?’ Godric does not respond. “Och om jag vill ge mig själv till dem?” ‘And if I want to give myself to them?’ 

Godric is silent still as he considers how to make Eric understand. “Nöjet är ditt att ta, men det kommer inte att erbjudas dig i natt. De gamlas väg är inte njutning, utan kraft. Ge inte din makt till dem.” ‘Pleasure is yours to take, but it will not be offered this night. The way of the Ancients is not pleasure, but power. Do not give your power to them.’ Eric is a strong warrior, but he is young and, at Godric’s fault, sheltered; these vampires will take advantage if given the opportunity. 

Godric continues, “Allt här är en... politisk handel. Blod, spel, nöje.” ‘All here is a… political trade. Blood, games, pleasure.’ Eric furrows his brows, “Du kommer att lära dig mycket den här natten. Du kommer att bli lurad. Ta inga förhastade beslut utan mig. Påminn dem så många gånger du måste om din lojalitet mot mig.” ‘You will learn much this night. You will be deceived. Do not make hasty decisions without me. Remind them as many times as you must of your loyalty to me.’ 

“Varför skulle vi gå till en sådan ohederlig plats?” ‘Why would we go to such a dishonorable place?’ Eric asks. He stops Godric in his tracks, insistent of an answer. Eric dips his head down to Godric’s height as he often does when he wants to see the depth of Godric’s eyes. 

Godric is charmed by Eric, as he always is. “För en politisk handel.” ‘For a political trade.’ Eric searches Godric’s eyes for more details, but Godric does not offer more. “En natt. Nästa natt åker vi österut.” ‘One night. Next night, we will go East.’ Eric only gives Godric a single obedient nod. 

This vampire nest is large, loud, and very busy. It is reminiscent of a beehive. “Godric!” Upon entry to the large building, Godric is greeted by a man with an intimate hand on Godric’s cheek. Eric tenses his jaw and resists his instincts to kill this man. Godric and this man speak in a language Eric does not know. Eric watches the man’s hand slide around Godric’s waist as they speak. 

“Eric,” Godric speaks. He turns in the man’s arm to introduce, “Eric, det här är Jure.” ‘Eric, this is Jure.’ Godric returns to his conversation with Jure. They walk together further into the building. “Komma,” ‘Come,’ Godric instructs, as though Eric has any intention of letting Godric out of his sight.

Others greet Godric with joy and ill-intentioned hands. Eric has learned in detail this past year of the many, many vampires that adore Godric in ways Eric once thought he alone adored, but Eric realizes this night that all surely adore Godric in this way. Eric did not previously know a discomfort like this. 

One of these ancient vampires, a fair woman, approaches Eric and speaks to him in his native tongue, however thick her odd accent seems, “Jag är Nadia. Är du hungrig, unge?” ‘I am Nadia. Are you hungry, young one?’  This catches Godric’s attention. He speaks to Nadia in the language Eric does not know. Jure has not removed his hand from Godric’s body. Nadia and Godric speak back and forth over Eric.

“Eric, kommer du att erbjuda en demonstration för våra vänner?” ‘Eric, will you offer a demonstration for our friends?’ Godric takes that tone Eric only hears around vampires like Jure and Nadia who touch Godric too much. Eric nods obediently and awaits further instruction. Despite the unpleasant circumstances, Eric trusts Godric unconditionally.

Eric doesn’t know how he finds himself standing in a shallow wooden bucket, wooden arrows aimed at his heart. Godric speaks lowly into Eric’s ear, “Lyssna efter pilarna. Fånga dem innan de punkterar huden.” ‘Listen for the arrows. Catch them before they puncture skin.’ Godric presses a discreet kiss to Eric’s earlobe, “Skada kommer inte till dig.” ‘Harm will not come to you.’ Eric knows Godric will protect him, and more so, that Eric does not require Godric’s protection. 

Eric nods and Godric joins the crowd. Against all instincts, Eric turns his back to the man to face Godric. Eric will not fail his maker. Eric hears what he assumes is a countdown. Time moves slowly. When Eric turns, he counts four arrows. Eric does not fail, each arrow is in his grip just an inch from his chest. The cheering of the crowd is meaningless to Eric, Godric’s proud smile is all that matters.

Marrakesh is chaos like Eric has never known, chaos of pleasure and war like he so often craved in his human life. Vampires feed with abandon from the glamoured humans that serve them, orgies occur shamelessly, fights break out often for no more than entertainment purposes. It is sin. Perhaps Eric would find pleasure in this place if the sight of Godric with another did not enrage Eric. 

“Jag måste ursäkta mig själv för en kort stund. Bo hos Nadia och Fatima. Kom ihåg allt jag har lärt dig, och ring till mig om du behöver mig. Jag kommer inte vara långt,” ‘I must excuse myself for a short time. Stay with Nadia and Fatima. Remember all I've taught you, and call to me if you need me. I will not be far,’ Godric speaks again in Eric’s ear. Godric is gone from Eric before Eric can protest. 

Nadia takes Eric’s hand as the women of his village often did and encourages, “Kom, kom,” ‘Come, come,’ Nadia insists. Eric would believe these vampires are drunk if he did not know better. “Spela med oss.” ‘Play with us.’ 

Nadia and Fatima teach Eric a card game from China that Nadia refers to as a ‘leaf’ game. In Godric’s absence, they touch Eric’s arms and chest flirtaciously as they teach him the beginnings of a language called Arabic. They ask many questions about Eric and Godric’s travels, most of which Eric cleverly diverts to topics with less meaning. 

Eric may be new to politics and vampire games and Marrakesh, but he is no stranger to the ways of pleasure. He keeps Fatima and Nadia’s attention well. They ask him many times to feed, and many times, Eric declines, insisting, “Jag föredrar mycket sällskap med er vackra damer.” ‘I much prefer the company of you beautiful ladies.’

Late in the night, Eric’s attention is temporarily caught by a fight between two vampires in the center of the room. It lasts only a matter of minutes before the weaker vampire is decapitated. The crowd roars in excitement. Unfortunately for Eric, Nadia knows well how to manipulate him. “Han vågar sin nästa konkurrent,’ ‘He dares his next competitor,’ Nadia translates. 

Nadia speaks in Eric’s ear, “Du är en krigare, eller hur? Det skulle vara en stor ära att få se din kultur och din styrka här. Skulle du slåss? Din skapare kommer att vara mycket stolt när du vinner.” ‘You are a warrior, no? It would be a great honor to see your culture and your strength here. Will you fight? Your maker will be very proud when you win.’ 

Blood and women, Eric can deny. War in the name of honor and Godric’s pride, Eric will never refuse. “Säg att jag är hans död,” ‘Tell him I am his death,’ Eric instructs Nadia. 

Fatima and Nadia argue quietly as Eric approaches the fighting arena. Godric should hear when the fight begins, should stop Eric before he can be manipulated into this fatal error, but even if he did, Jure would not surrender Godric’s attention now for anything. 

The fight lasts longer than Eric expects. His opponent is much stronger than him, and if it were not for Godric’s intensive trainings, Eric would surely have met his true death this night. As it is, Eric is lucky to find an opportunity to plunge his hand into his opponent’s chest and rip out his heart. The crowd gasps and silences. When the cheers do not come, Eric belatedly realizes he was not expected to win this fight. Nadia expected Eric to die this night. 

Eric, covered in his opponent’s blood as well as his own, is attacked by a vampire whose strength is comparable only to Godric’s. Eric resists with all his strength, but this vampire dominates him faster than Eric can comprehend. Eric is helpless to stop this vampire from forcing his face onto the hard floor again and again in a fit of rage Eric has never endured. 

Eric is delirious when it stops. The world is dark. Eric hears Godric’s distant voice in that language he does not know. Arabic, Eric distantly identifies. The vampire above Eric falls lifelessly on top of him before the weight rolls off him. Eric feels Godric’s familiar fingertips gentle in his scalp, and like a balm, soothes Eric of his pain. Eric begins to heal and his vision returns to him. He sees Godric blurrily crouching beside him, wordless. Eric feels a guilt far worse than the physical pain in his face and head. Eric has disappointed Godric.