“Here’s the information you requested,” Pam says strolling through the door of Eric’s office without knocking. Eric is seated behind his desk going over invoices and receipts for the bar. He is struggling to enter all the information necessary in the bookkeeping software that Pam insisted would make their lives easier when it came to running the bar. What would make their lives easier would be to have a competent bar manager. Unfortunately, none of their current employees have the brains to undertake such an endeavor. Eric knows of one person he would like to offer the job to, but he has not spoken to her in over one month.
“Leave it on the desk,” Eric says without looking up from his task. He may be speaking to his progeny, but he has not forgiven her for the actions that put his beloved in harm’s way. The tension between the two vampires is palpable. Even the bar patrons have noticed a sense of unease hanging over the club. Eric has been more surly than usual since returning to the bar after having been cursed by the necromancer and Pam has an even shorter fuse when it comes to dealing with the vermin. Of course, the fangbangers love the added sense of danger; it only adds to the mystique of Fangtasia.
Pam sets the folder on the edge of the desk, but then hesitates before leaving the office. Eric stops what he is doing to glance at his errant child with a raised eyebrow. “What?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Pam sighs heavily before saying what’s been on her mind for days. “It’s been over a month since Sookie ended things with both you and Bill. She’s made no effort to call you or come here to see you. You’ve never been one to go chasing after a woman; you let them come to you. So get the fuck over it!”
“You forget your place Pamela,” Eric says coldly. “What I do is none of your fucking business!”
Pam flinches and backs up a step from the force of his anger. Blood tears pool in her eyes because of the cold demeanor which her adored maker has given her. Any other time, Pam would have argued with Eric, but she honestly does not know how he will react if she does. Since she fired the rocket launcher at Sookie, Eric has treated Pam as if she were his enemy. He keeps her at arm’s length; never confiding in her and only speaking to her when necessary. In all their years together, Eric has never treated her this way. As the chasm widens between her and her maker, Pam is finally beginning to see how much Sookie Stackhouse means to him. She had thought it was because he wanted to fuck her and drink her blood. Pam knew by the way that both Eric and Sookie smelled that Eric had done both while in his memory-less state. With the restoration of his memories, Pam thought he would finally move on from the gash in the sundress. But he hasn’t; he’s become a lovesick fool. He has not partaken in any of the willing donors that throw themselves at him nightly, nor has he gone hunting for his own dinner and entertainment. Every night he sits on his throne until storming back to his office to take care of paperwork. The only blood he consumes either comes in a bag or in a bottle. Pam cannot ever remember her maker going more than a month without sex, and he only ever drank bagged blood when necessary. As for True Blood . . . Eric had always said the blood of goats would taste better than the shit sold in a bottle. Yet he drinks it every night without complaint. Not even Bill Compton was this pathetic when it came to moping over Sookie Stackhouse. Pam knew for a fact that while he publicly moped over the fairy hybrid, he was feeding and fucking from every donor on his staff.
Pam lowers her head meekly as a sign of respect. “Forgive me Master, but I worry for you. Since you have recovered from the necromancer’s spell, you have not been yourself.”
“And how am I supposed to act Pam?” Eric cocks his head to the side and raises an eyebrow daring her to answer. His tone is mocking as he continues. “Should I go out there and feed and fuck from every patron in the bar? Would that make you happy? Or would you prefer if I go out there and slaughter them all as I long to do so I will never have to see their pathetic, desperate bodies or smell their foul stench ever again? Is that what you want from me?”
“I want you to be happy,” Pam says softly.
Eric slumps back in his chair defeated. “I would have been happier if the necromancer’s curse had never been lifted. Then I could have stayed with Sookie,” he whispers.
Pam’s expression turns horrified. “You don’t mean that,” she declares emphatically.
Eric looks at his only progeny with deadened eyes. “I do mean it. Sookie wasn’t afraid to show her affections for me when I was without my memories. She cared for me; kept me safe . . . she loved me. We began a blood bond the day the necromancer tried to have us all walk in the sun. But the moment I was myself again, she ran scared from me. So why would I wish to stay like this when the woman I love isn’t by my side?”
“You really love her,” Pam says with wonder in her voice. She knows her maker is capable of love; he showed love for his maker and has shown love for her, but she never thought he could love a human. Well, half human in this case . . .
“It doesn’t matter,” Eric sighs and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the top of his chair.
“Yes, it does matter,” Pam says firmly. “You are Eric fucking Northman, a Viking vampire god! You do not sit there defeated, wallowing in self-pity. Go out there and take what you want!”
“In case you haven’t noticed Pamela, Sookie wants nothing to do with me. So tell me, how exactly am I supposed to go get her? I’m open to suggestions,” Eric says tiredly.
“Dear Abby says that it is normal to feel shy, awkward, and nervous when admitting you love someone,” Pam intones. “She also says that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Dear Abby has written several columns stating that some of the easiest ways to tell someone you love them is through a letter or gift.”
“Gifts?” Eric perks up and glances at the calendar at the bottom of his computer screen; December 11, two weeks until Christmas. “What’s that ridiculous song that talks about giving the most ridiculous gifts to one’s true love?” His fingers begin flying rapidly over the keyboard, and he clicks the mouse repeatedly in frustration; Apple has yet to come out with a computer that moves at vamp speed.
“How the fuck should I know?” Pam opens the office door and calls for Ginger. The overly-glamoured barmaid comes rushing in the room, trying to adjust her clothing so she looks appealing to Eric. He doesn’t bother to acknowledge her presence; Pam is the one who asks Ginger about the Christmas song Eric is looking for.
“You mean the Twelve Days of Christmas? I can sing it for you if you like,” Ginger says excitedly. She clears her throat and opens her mouth to begin singing.
“Thank you Ginger; that will be all,” Eric says dismissively. Ginger’s expression falls and she scurries out of the office. Eric meanwhile gazes at his computer screen intently; Google and Wikipedia give him the information he seeks.
“Hmmm, this says I am supposed to begin giving the gifts starting on Christmas, and it culminates on January 6. That won’t do at all,” he mutters. Eric’s crystal clear blue eyes scan the computer screen quickly. “Why the fuck would I give her ten lords-a-leaping or four calling birds? Who the fuck came up with these gifts?!?!?!”
Pam moves around his desk so she can skim the information her maker is looking at. She rolls her eyes because she knows he failed to read all the information provided; typical man, he never reads all the directions. “The song originated in the eighteenth century. Obviously, you cannot be expected to give the same type of gifts today. Sookie obviously does not have need of eight-maids-a-milking, though I’m fairly certain there is something of yours she can milk,” Pam says with a smirk.
“Sex isn’t enough to win Sookie back,” Eric reminds Pam. “I need to show her that I value her.”
“Tiffany’s and Cartier are highly valued,” Pam says with an excited gleam in her eye.
“Tiffany’s and Cartier may mean something to you,” Eric says with a smirk, “but they mean nothing to Sookie. The gifts I give to her should come from the heart; they need to show that I know her and what she values. They need to show I understand her.”
“Great, so you’ll be giving her Wal-Mart sundresses and first aid kits because of how often she’s in danger,” Pam says with a roll of her eyes. “Good luck with that.” She spins on her Jimmy Choo’s and sashays back out of the office to find her nightly meal. It is nights like these that Pam misses Yvetta. Granted, she was a thieving cunt that had stolen their money and silvered Pam, but she tasted better than the average fangbanger and would do anything sexually. Uninhibited breathers are hard to come by.
Eric ignores the words of his progeny and continues to search for gifts to show the woman he desires above all others that he truly loves her and wants to be with her. Even though danger from the necromancer and King Bill had lurked over their heads, the days with Sookie had been some of the most tranquil he had ever known. They were able to simply be Eric and Sookie. It wasn’t about the Sheriff of Area Five and the telepath, or the vampire and the fairy; it was a time where two people were getting to know each other and falling in love. Thinking back over that time is bittersweet for Eric. Being loved by Sookie and loving her in return had been an unparalleled ecstasy that had infused every inch of his undead body with warmth and light. To have her turn from him, even after admitting she loved him, had been the deepest of desolations; the only pain he had ever known that hurt as much was losing Godric. Oh he had tried to bury that pain; in fact, he’d tried to fuck it right out of his system.
She’d left him. He couldn’t believe it. Eric had been so sure that with Bill bowing out of the race for Sookie’s affections that she would turn to him with open arms. Instead, Sookie told him that their chance had already passed. She had walked out the front door. Eric could hear her heartbroken sobs from the other side of the door as he stood frozen in place in Bill’s office. His mind was racing and the strangest feeling was sweeping through his body, like he was going to have a panic attack. Eric vaguely heard a telephone ringing over the roaring in his ears. Rage was fighting a battle with grief inside him, and the feeling left him spiraling out of control. He wanted to lash out and attack something. Fortunately, the King of Louisiana provided him with a welcome distraction.
“Nan Flanagan is on her way here to discuss the events that occurred at the Festival of Tolerance,” Bill Compton, the King of Louisiana, states.
“It’s not my problem,” Eric says dismissively.
“In case you’ve forgotten, Nan saw Sookie using her fairy light to stop you from attacking me,” Bill says smugly. He thinks Sookie trying to save him is a sign that she still loves him, and despite her words a few short moments ago, he thinks there will be a reconciliation between them. She’s never been able to stay away from him; his blood inside her makes certain of that. “Are you sure this doesn’t concern you Sheriff?”
“Fuck Sookie,” Eric snarls. “She turned her back on us, or were you not paying attention when she walked out of here?” Eric rounds on the self-important fool, ready to attack.
“Would you condemn her to a life of servitude working for The Authority? If Nan knows what Sookie is, she will do anything to acquire her, seeing her as a way to further her own power. For years, I’ve tried to keep Sookie hidden from Nan’s greedy gaze,” Bill says solemnly. Eric seethes as he listens to Bill blather on about he has been heroically placing himself between Sookie and Nan; the truth is that Bill has only ever wanted to use Sookie for his own purposes. He doesn’t love her; he wants to own her, possess her as a child does a toy, playing with it until it is a dirty, broken, and battered shell of what it once was.
Eric’s cell phone ringing interrupts the sanctimonious speech that Bill has been giving. Bill gives Eric a sour look as he answers the phone, clearly displeased by the sheriff’s lack of respect for his position.
“Northman,” Eric says succinctly.
“Hello Brother,” a delicate female voice with a British accent says playfully over the phone.
“Nora,” Eric says with a smirk. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Eric has not heard from his vampire sister in years. He had tried to contact her after Godric met the sun, but she was unavailable. With their maker gone, Eric could no longer feel Nora. He feared that something had happened to her until he had received word through a mutual acquaintance saying she was well and out of the country. Because Eric could not share his grief over Godric with the one other being that would understand, he had resorted to other measures as an outlet for his pain. Hence Yvetta and the six-hour fuckfest that Sookie had walked in on wearing that hideous lavender dress. That dress should have been a red flag that Compton knew absolutely nothing about Sookie. The pastel purple had done nothing for her complexion, and the dress did not flatter her figure. However, it was exactly the type of dress a demure woman should wear; pastels are also colors that historically unmarried women were supposed to wear. Darker, bolder colors had previously only been reserved for matrons. The dress had been a reflection of how Compton wanted Sookie to appear, not a reflection of who she was. Something that was also clear by the ill-fitting engagement ring Compton had gifted Sookie with. Even from the limited amount of time Eric had spent with her, he knew the gaudy, poor quality diamond was not Sookie. She would prefer an antique piece of jewelry rich in history and not a colorless diamond with nothing to distinguish from any other that can be seen in your run-of-the mill shopping mall jewelry store.
“Nan Flanagan,” Nora says with distaste.
“It seems everyone wants to discuss that diseased cunt this evening,” Eric says as he stares meaningfully at Bill. “She is on her way to the King of Louisiana’s home to discuss something with him this evening. My presence has also been requested at this meeting. Tell me Nora, what does that cold bitch really want?”
“Nan came to The Guardian earlier asking for permission to end you and Compton. She claims the events in Louisiana are due to Compton’s ineffective leadership.” Bill, having heard every word of the conversation, growls at Nora for calling his monarchy ineffective. Eric raises an eyebrow in challenge as Nora continues speaking, relaying that the only reason The Guardian had abstained from decreeing the True Death for Eric was because of Nora. The Guardian had reminded Nan that Bill was only King of Louisiana because of her insistence. If he was suddenly unfit for the job, then that reflected poorly on her as well.
Eric chuckles drily. “I’m sure that Nan didn’t like that.”
“She liked it as much as that time Godric commanded you to abstain from all sexual activity for one year,” Nora says with a chuckle. Eric scowls as he remembers that incident. How was he supposed to know the woman he’d seduced had been the Gözde (favorite) of the Sultan? For centuries, Eric maintained that he was innocent that time; she had pursued him and not the other way around. It didn’t matter; they had been forced to flee when the Sultan sent his guards after Eric. Nora’s amusement ends abruptly and her tone becomes full of concern. “Nan told The Guardian she would handle the matter personally. She also said there was something Compton was keeping from The Guardian, something that would be very useful to him. Nan scheduled a follow-up meeting with The Guardian for tomorrow. Do you have any idea what this is about?”
An icy feeling of dread settles over Eric. The bitch means to use Sookie just as Compton feared. Nan Flanagan has signed her own death warrant by threatening Sookie Stackhouse.
“Perhaps,” Eric says slowly. “What will The Guardian do if Nan does not deliver this useful object?” Eric needs to know what he is up against. If he has to, he will take Sookie away from this country tonight if that is what it will take to keep her safe. He will deal with her anger at his high-handedness, as she calls it, but he will not compromise on her safety.
Nora considers her words carefully before answering. “The Guardian knows that some things lose their usefulness when they are removed from their natural environment.” Eric’s eyes widen slightly in horror; The Guardian knows about Sookie! How is that possible? He does not wish to have her commandeered as an asset of The Authority? That sounds highly unlikely. For nearly six hundred years, Roman Zimojic has exploited every possible resource to make sure the continued existence of vampires. Perhaps his bullshit platform of mainstreaming isn’t so bullshit after all.
“And what of Nan Flanagan?” If Nora is saying that Sookie can stay here with The Guardian’s blessing, then something has to be done about the face of the AVL.
“I believe Nan Flanagan has outlived her usefulness,” Nora says in a business-like tone. Eric receives the message loud and clear; he and Compton are to deliver the True Death to Nan Flanagan.
Nora ends the call with her brother, knowing that he will see to the matter at hand. Eric has always been thorough when it comes to eliminating an enemy. Nora cannot recall a time when the prey had escaped the Viking’s predatory gaze. Though to be safe, Nora has an ace up her sleeve to ensure her brother’s success.
“Did Nan say when she would arrive?” Eric’s mind spins with possibilities as he mentally maps Compton’s home to assess where his best advantage lies when it comes to dealing with Nan. Undoubtedly, she will have her armed thugs with her. Eric sneers as he thinks of how weak and complacent Nan has become if she thinks a few vampires carrying guns are all she needs to keep her safe. Eric can appreciate modern technology and acknowledges that modern weapons have made it easier for vampires to be killed. However, technology can fail; his fangs and hands have never let him down.
“Two hours,” Bill says shortly.
“Then we have an hour,” Eric states. Nan will arrive early hoping to catch them unaware and unprepared. “I need to get a new set of clothes. I refuse to deal with Nan Flanagan wearing his and her matching robes,” Eric says in disgust. “I shall return in half an hour. I suggest you make yourself look like a king. You need to look strong, not weak and floundering to take control of your kingdom.” Bill opens his mouth to protest, but Eric is already out the door, flying to his nearest safe house. Of course, it would have been so much easier if Eric could have gone to the home he owns across the cemetery; he does have clothes hidden in a secret panel within the cubby. But he isn’t welcome there, Sookie had made sure of that when she turned her back on him. He had humbled himself in front of Compton for her, letting the faux Southern gentleman see him at his weakest and most vulnerable. He admitted he loved her, that he was still the same vampire she had fallen in love with but she did not want to hear it. She refused to acknowledge that she could love all of him.
“Fuck Sookie,” Eric mutters to himself as he flies to his safe house. It’s the stinging wind in his eyes that causes a blood tear to escape from his eye not because the only woman he has ever loved shattered his frozen heart.
As Eric predicted, Nan and her entourage arrived an hour early. For once, Bill had done as instructed and was dressed in one of his tailored suits with coordinating shirt and tie. Eric, trying to reclaim his badass persona, wore his usual tight black jeans, ass-kicking black leather boots, and black leather jacket over a t-shirt. He keeps his face impassive as Nan and three of her gay storm troopers stomp their way to Compton’s study. Nan stands closest to Bill’s desk and her guards form a wall of protection behind her. It takes a thousand years of self-control to keep from shaking his head at the newest additions in the room. Don’t they fucking know you never turn your back on your adversary? What the fuck are they thinking to let him get behind them?
Eric lets Nan and Bill bicker back and forth. How he wishes he could be the one to end Nan! Eric ultimately blames Nan for being the push over the edge Godric needed to meet the sun on that hotel rooftop in Dallas. He longs to feel her blood on his hands as he rips her head from her body; it would be a small comfort in the face of the grief that the loss of his maker has created in him. Unfortunately, Compton will have the pleasure of ending Nan if everything goes according to his plan. Compton will have the element of surprise over Nan, while he deals with her guards. The guards outside of the home will prove problematic; Eric prays to his long silent gods that he is successful in his battles tonight. Although part of him wonders if he were to meet the true death, would it be such a bad thing? Godric is gone; Russell is interned in a tomb of concrete. Pam and Nora, while he cares deeply for his progeny and sister, they are not enough to keep him here.
Sookie, his sneaky subconscious whispers and he figuratively bats it away like an annoying fly. She turned her back on him; she won’t give a shit if he remains among the undead.
You know that isn’t true. She will mourn you. Would you break her heart like that?
Eric growls low in his throat in response to his antagonistic subconscious. Fortunately, the noise coming from him goes unnoticed because Nan is too busy screaming about how she refuses to meet the True Death because of us. She ends her tirade calling Bill and himself lovesick puppies. Eric’s heard all he needs to. In a move too quick for any of the other vampires to track, Eric decapitates the three guards, their bodies exploding in piles of goo before the heads hit the floor. He watches with amusement as Compton uses his ceremonial stake, the one Nan herself had given Compton at his official coronation ceremony, to pierce the heart of the bitchy AVL spokeswoman. It is immensely satisfying for Eric to see the combination of fear, horror, and astonishment on Nan’s face the instant before her body disintegrates.
“Well done Your Majesty,” Eric congratulates Bill sincerely. The king nods his head in acknowledgement and the two vampires stare at the bloody mess surrounding them. Both men are covered in blood as is the majority of the office. Bill looks at the room with disgust; he will have to pay to have the room cleaned and redecorated again. Eric longs to let loose a warrior’s cry signaling his victory over his adversaries as he had done on the battlefields over his vanquished foes. The only thing that would have made these kills sweeter would have been if his trusty sword had been in his hands.
Both vampires resume fighting positions when they hear the sound of gunfire and screams outside followed by silence. Bill pulls a gun from his desk drawer and Eric moves beside the double doors, ready to attack the moment the doors open. The front door of the mansion opens, and a single pair of high heels clicks against the hardwood floor as the owner walks towards the closed office doors. The unknown intruder pauses outside the door, and Eric relaxes his stance as a familiar scent reaches his extra sensitive nose; it reminds him of a field of heather along an English moor. But the scent is tempered by a mixture of sandalwood and linen, two scents that will forever remind him of Godric. Eric gestures for Bill to lower his weapon as he opens the doors in dramatic fashion.
“Hello Nora,” Eric says with his trademark smirk.
Nora strides forward confidently, barely acknowledging the King of Louisiana before claiming Eric’s lips in a passionate kiss. Her lips move hungrily against his and Eric fists his hands in her hair, asserting his dominance over her. Nora has always tried to assert her power over him, but he will always be the stronger one. He uses his hands to move her head the way he wants as he thrusts his tongue in her mouth. Never one to give up easily, Nora’s tongue duels with Eric’s and she “accidentally” slices her tongue against his fang. Eric moans in ecstasy as her blood dances along his tongue. It is a familiar taste, comforting; it is the blood of Godric, faint as it may be. Eric’s cock hardens as he greedily slashes her tongue again and again to taste more.
“Friend of yours?” Eric pulls slowly away from Nora’s lips to stare at the one who interrupted them. Compton stands behind his desk with a sneer on his face and contempt in his eyes. He knew Eric was only toying with Sookie! If he truly loved her, then how could he be kissing another woman so passionately? It doesn’t matter to Bill that he had fucked a donor earlier in the evening; that was just dinner. And he never kissed his feed and fucks; that is only reserved for the woman who owns his heart. And given Eric’s very aroused state, Bill knows he will fuck the woman in his office before the night is through. Bill is glad Sookie is free of Eric; he would have destroyed her. She may have rejected both, but Bill knows it is only a matter of time before they are reunited. She is the love of his existence.
“She’s my sister,” Eric says as Nora nuzzles against his chest. Eric kisses Nora’s head affectionately before releasing her. Their eyes meet and a heated look passes between them; this will be continued later in a semi-private place. At least far away from Compton’s prying eyes. Nora steps away from Eric and beings speaking in a business-like tone.
“I see you handled Nan without any issues. My team of cleaners are outside waiting to remove the mess. The Authority will of course pay for anything that needs to be replaced since you property was damaged while you were performing a service for us. On behalf of The Guardian, you have our gratitude. Nan was becoming a thorn in his side.” Nora, knowing exactly the type of pompous prick Bill Compton is, lays it on thick. She had vehemently opposed Compton’s appointment as King of Louisiana; she firmly believe her brother should have been given the position. It wasn’t family loyalty that prompted her support of Eric, though she would always chose family before an interloper. It was because it was the smart thing to do. He had defeated Russell Edgington; who would be stupid enough to fuck with him? Compton had no allies, was politically inexperienced, and was far too young. The only thing he had going for him was that his mortal life tied him to Louisiana, which given how close-mouthed the Deep South was to outsiders, it had been extremely beneficial in restoring vampire-human relations in the state.
“I appreciate that,” Bill says slightly surprised. He had no idea Eric had connections to The Authority. If the vampiress in front of him really is another child of Godric, then Bill finds it hard to believe The Authority would have willingly agreed to the execution order for Eric, even if he had been under the control of a necromancer. Had Nan been setting him up? After Eric had been removed, would she have turned against him? It is of no consequence now as he feel the vestiges of Nan congealing on his skin and clothes. “It is an honor to serve The Guardian and The Authority. I am always willing to help,” he says in a voice as thick and surgery as molasses.
Nora nods her acknowledgement before turning around and rolling her eyes in an exaggerated fashion at her older brother. Eric smirks in acknowledgement. Bill wouldn’t be Bill if he wasn’t trying to kiss someone’s ass.
“If you require nothing further Your Majesty, my sister and I have some catching up to do.” Without waiting for Bill’s response, Eric and Nora vamp out of the stately home to continue their family reunion.
Eric’s time with Nora has been bittersweet; they had cried and laughed over memories of Godric. When those moments had passed, they did only as two vampires could: they fucked the pain away. For Eric, it was a much needed contrast after the emotional connection sex with Sookie had been. With Nora, it wasn’t about love or affection; it was pure fucking for the sake of fucking. It was about getting off in any way he could. The next evening had continued the same way the previous one had ended, with Eric buried deep inside Nora’s tight sheath. After each of them having obtained their release, Nora had to leave; she was due to return to The Authority’s headquarters in New Orleans. Sensing there was something troubling him, Nora invited Eric to return with her. He had been ready to refuse; what if Sookie needed him?
Fuck Sookie! She is no longer our concern.
His subconscious was right; Sookie wasn’t his concern anymore. And he wasn’t ready to deal with Pam yet, so he left for New Orleans, trying to convince himself he didn’t give a fuck about what would happen in his absence.
For a week, Eric got back to the vampire he had been before Sookie Stackhouse. He fucked whomever he wanted, when he wanted, and often taking more than one partner at a time. Nora and Salome were especially eager to play with him. Salome had heard about his legendary sexual prowess and wanted to experience his skills for herself. For one week, he was the epitome of what a vampire should be according to his progeny: fucking, feeding, and laughing as he made his way through the world, not giving a shit about anyone other than himself.
And he was absolutely miserable.
It was demeaning for him to realize that Sookie would invade his thoughts constantly. And a feeling of guilt continued to grow within him during the seven days he was gone until it was all but smothering him. She had fucking broke him; none of the women he was with that week, Nora included, could erase the loss of Sookie from his heart. His sister finally managed to drag the story about Sookie out of him. She was curious about the woman who had been with their maker at the end, and she was even more intrigued by the fact Eric loved her. Not because she thought her brother incapable of the emotion; Eric was perhaps the most emotional vampire she knew. He loved very few, but those that had his affection elicited strong reactions in him. What surprised Nora was that for once in his life, Eric was willingly putting the emotional desires of another before his own. Eric, like Nora, would have always put Godric first if he had let them, but their maker never let them put his needs before their own. He had been a true father in that he was selfless when it came to his children, putting their needs before his own. Nora pestered Eric for the complete story with Miss Stackhouse, provoking him to the point that he attacked Nora.
Their battle was vicious, two siblings that despised each other beating the shit out of each other until Nora’s set of rooms at The Authority were nothing more than shambles. The siblings sat among the ruins wearily; broken and bloody, licking their wounds so to speak. Nora asked again about Sookie, and Eric, too battered to resist, spilled his guts to his younger sister, seeking a woman’s perspective. Nora, who was a romantic at heart, cursed her brother in every language she knew for being a fool. She packed his belongings that night, sending him back to Shreveport to claim the woman he loved. When Eric asked how he was supposed to win her back, Nora only had one word of advice for him.
For three weeks, that word has rattled around his brain. He is Eric Northman. The Viking. The Sheriff of Area Five. He doesn’t fucking grovel! If anything, she should be the one groveling. But she hasn’t. Eric hasn’t heard a peep from her, though he has been aware of all her activities since he returned. Surprisingly, Alcide Herveaux was his main source of information about Sookie. Eric had been in his office the night after returning from New Orleans when Alcide had barged in. The belligerent Were had demanded to know when Eric would be returning Sookie’s home to her. She was unprotected living in that house alone; anyone could harm her, vampires included, since she couldn’t prevent them from entering. Eric didn’t appreciate having Alcide be the one to point out that flaw in Sookie’s security; he should have corrected the matter the moment he felt her return. Eric liked even less having to hear that Alcide’s psychotic ex, Debbie Pelt, had tried to kill Sookie in her home. While he had been busy fucking Nora, Sookie had been abducted by the Were bitch. It was only thanks to Alcide and Lafayette that Sookie had gone free. Eric would have taken great satisfaction in torturing the Pelt woman until finally putting her down, but her death had ultimately been at Sookie’s hands. The woman he loved had shot the Were in self-defense. Eric chastised himself relentlessly upon hearing all this. He should have protected her; she was the woman he loved, yet he let her walk away. He never admits defeat easily, so why had he in this instance? He is a warrior; he is a fighter. He needs to be fighting for the woman he loves, fighting to prove that he is the vampire for her.
And if he has to grovel along the way, then so be it.