In the end, it was his child’s tears that made him change his mind.
After all, Godric had never planned on Eric seeing this. When he decided to turn himself in to the Fellowship of the Sun, he had not seen Godric in years, and they hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms. So he had thought this was the best way to go, without telling him. Eric would have felt him go, of course, he would feel the burning pain and the emptiness like a lost limb, but he wouldn’t be here now trying to stop him. He would get over it, eventually. His child was strong. He was a survivor, a warrior, a leader. Godric had fallen in love with him a hundred lifetimes ago for those reasons.
When Godric was first turned into what he is now, before there were even any silly names to describe their kind, he swore to himself that he would never make a child of his own. He had been turned against his will at a virginal, innocent age when he was not yet a man. He held it against his Sire, so much so that when he learned how vampires could die, he drove a stake through the bastard’s unbeating heart.
But a millennium later, Godric saw an Angel of Death on the battlefield, and watched him fall. He knew what he had to do. He had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted the blond Viking. It made him feel alive again at a time when he could only feel nothing. After the death of his maker, Godric had to learn what it meant to be alone. Years of solitude had reduced him to a mud-covered creature of the forest, a predator, a feral child…but Eric brought out the human in Godric he thought he had lost forever.
His hard-headed child was always pushing his limits and he had learned quickly that patience was the best way to deal with him. His own master had always punished too severely, and he had promised himself he would never lay a hand on Eric in anger, even when his child’s antics infuriated him.
In Eric’s lifetime, Godric had only broken that promise once: when his child was late meeting him after hunting and only a few minutes of darkness remained. Eric had been barely a yearling, but the Viking warrior’s blood still ran thick in his veins. He didn’t understand why he had to obey a vampire who looked so much like a child. As a young vampire, Eric felt invincible. Godric had been terrified that his child wouldn’t make it back it time, so when Eric came sauntering through the entrance to the cave that they were using for a lair, Godric exploded. He backhanded Eric hard enough to send him sailing twenty feet, crashing into the cave wall. That was the only time Eric had looked at him with fear in his eyes, and Godric knew he would never hit his child again. That look haunted him to this night.
Not long after that, Eric began calling him ‘Godric’. Although the older vampire did not quite understand why his child had decided to bestow this particular name upon him, he went by it from then on.
And here he was, easily one of the oldest vampires of the New World, changing his mind because of a few tears from his begging child, crippled at his feet. He had grown soft in his old age, it seemed. Or perhaps just more wise. He reached out and ran his fingers through Eric’s shortened blond hair until they came to the nape of his neck to force his child to look up at him. Godric did not know a heart that hadn’t beat in two thousand years could break, but at the sight of his child’s tears, he felt an ache in his chest.
“Do not cry my child. You know I cannot stand to see you cry.” Godric spoke in Swedish, Eric’s native language, an old habit to break.
"Then don't make me cry," Eric reasoned frankly through his begging sobs. How could his maker stand there so calm and collected, while Eric was reduced to crying a river of blood? It seemed his maker had been planning this for more than one night. He was acting as though it were a simple, mundane, every night task. This was by far the most sadistic thing the boy king had ever done, Eric thought to himself, topping thousands of years of savagery and blood thirst. This was pure cruelty, to stand before him like this and say he wanted to end it all.
It wasn't often that Eric felt helpless. Yet here he was, sobbing tears he did not know he was capable of, feeling utterly broken and weak, as if he were little more than an infant vampire in Godric’s arms again. If his heart were alive it would be dying, yet he could feel it like a phantom limb being ripped apart inside him.
This was selfish. This was foolish. Was Godric willing to die to satisfy a curiosity? Eric wouldn't allow it, he couldn't. He was either going to take Godric off this roof or die with him. "I won't leave you, then. How would you like that? Or are you too selfish to care if I burn too?" Eric accused. It was terrifying to know he meant it. He truly meant it. Sookie stood unimportant and forgotten in the background, her presence barely noticed by the two vampires. Eric wondered if in another thousand years he would feel just as tired, but he simply couldn’t imagine it now.
Godric sighed, a deep and completely unnecessary intake of breath. They both knew Godric could simply order his child off the roof, but Eric was making a good point. What if it was his child here instead of him? Of course he would not allow such a thing. He could not even bare to think about it. Looking down into the blue eyes of his child, he thought how funny it was that he could still be surprised even after two thousand years.
He felt that same tiredness he had been feeling lately, overwhelm him. Vampires as old as him in the old world would usually find a place to hole up and simply sleep for years at a time. The only advantage of his age was that he hardly needed blood anymore to survive. But he hadn't wanted to sleep, he wanted to burn, and now he saw his chance slipping away from him.
"All right, my child, I will not meet the sun this day," Godric finally said, and although Sookie could not understand their language, she could tell the vampire boy had been talked down.
Eric stared up at him as if he didn't believe him. In fact, he would not until he watched his maker step down from the roof with his own eyes. And not even then would Eric be satisfied. He would need to watch over Godric even as he slept. Eric took in a deep, shaky breath and wondered what had changed Godric’s mind so quickly. He owed it to his maker, as his only child, to wake him up from whatever trance held him close to the sun.
"There is nothing beyond this life for you. What did you expect to happen, angels to take you to heaven?" Eric tried to sound angry but his voice was small and pathetic and heartbroken. He could feel the dawn pulling at him like sleep and he knew they needed to seek shelter, but he would not budge until Godric did. They had spent so much time without one another, but Eric had stayed nothing if not loyal. If it meant dying with him, he would do it.
"I know there is nothing there for me, and that's want I wanted. To feel nothing," Godric explained, not really expecting his child to understand. He gazed longingly towards the horizon where the first rays of dawn were starting to peek through the clouds. "Come." He offered a hand to Eric to help him up off his knees. "Dawn approaches and you need to sleep."
Eric kneeled before Godric like was an altar, before he hesitantly took the hand extended to him. He took one scornful glance at the lightening sky, and with a hand firmly in the other vampire’s, lead him off the roof and down the stairs.
Sookie stood frozen and watched, deeply moved by the unexpected scene before her. After all, it wasn't often that Eric begged on his knees. Godric watched the human girl watching Eric. He was pretty sure his child desired this human, and now he was certain the human desired Eric right back, even if she did not realize it yet.
"She has your blood in her," Godric stated simply as Eric led them away from Sookie and down the stairs. "I did not sense that before, is it a new development?"
Eric looked down at his maker in shock. Godric was frozen in a fifteen-year-old boy's body but his eyes showed centuries of wisdom that Eric couldn’t even fathom. He wondered what he had learned over the years to make him want to end it all. There were reasons, Eric wanted to say. There were very good reasons why he had tricked her into taking his blood, but he wanted to discuss none of them with his maker.
"That is not important right now," Eric told him, for once not wanting to think about the human. She could not come between them like this. Nothing would come between them again, he swore silently.
"Hmmm," was all Godric said on that matter, too tired to pry further. His home lair had been destroyed, he had lost nest-mates and their human pets, and he was no longer Sheriff of Dallas. It was a title he had never really wanted, but it felt odd not to have it anymore. He could not tell if he felt more liberated or lost. Realistically, Godric could be King of any kingdom in the New World if he was so inclined.
Eric hated how easily Godric could hide what he was really feeling, if he was feeling anything at all anymore. The boy was an expert on passive aggressiveness and in all their years together, Eric never built up a tolerance for it.
"You say you want to feel nothing? What the hell do you feel now, then?" It was perhaps only Eric who could speak to Godric in this way and get away with it. He had always known this. The tears on his face had dried but he did not bother to clean himself off. He wore them in mourning as if Godric had really stood firm on the roof.
"Guilty." Godric reached up to lovingly trace the tears on Eric's face. "You were never supposed to find out about any of this. I did not think of Isabel contacting you after they found out I was missing. I thought it would be easier for you that way. There are years between us, but I had forgotten how strong the bond was. I should have released you the day we parted from each other. Then you would have felt no obligation for me. I apoligize for being so selfish. I would have spared you any pain."
Should have released him? Did Godric really believe that just speaking those three meaningless words, 'I release you', that Eric would be free of him? That Eric’s loyalty and love and bond with him would just magically not matter? For all his years, Godric was still so much a child.
"It was foolish of you. What would that prove, letting them tie you down and force you into the sun? Letting us start this war against them? Risking our lives to come rescue you when you did not want to be rescued? Did you think you were martyring yourself?!" The anger was rising within Eric now. Watching his maker so close to death had snapped something in him.
"They would have taken one of us eventually," Godric responded calmly. "And it would have been one of the young ones. I did not want additional bloodshed. I thought if they had their petty sacrifice, it would appease them and their false deities. I made a deal with them, but I should have known better than to trust they would uphold their end of the bargain. If you had not come, I know Isabel would not have gone after the Fellowship. She would not have found proof I was there. There would have been no attack, no war. I thought it was the right thing to do," he explained to Eric, not knowing why he felt had to when he had never done so before.
It didn't make sense to Eric. It simply didn't. "And you think I wouldn't sense something was wrong with you if you were missing or in pain? No, of course not, you forget our bond, as you say." He tried not to make it sound like he was hurt by what Godric had said, but the angry accusation was there.
"We have not shared blood in many years and our bond is not as strong as it once was. You would have felt me die, but that is all," Godric told him. The feeling of his maker's death had been nothing more than a paper cut.
"That's all!?" Eric repeated with a short laugh. Godric spoke like it would be a quick pang, like the stubbing of a toe. Then why did he cry and beg and know that only fire from the sun would silence the screaming he felt inside?
Godric said nothing at that. The dawn was here. Safe in this room, Eric felt exhaustion wearing heavily down on his mind and body. Godric went further into the room and took a seat on the couch. "You should retire to your bedroom and get some rest. I will rest out here."
"I don't believe you that you won't walk into the sun when I shut my eyes. I want to be near you as you sleep," Eric told him.
"Since when is my word not good enough for you?" Godric challenged, his role as maker to his child instinctual. Eric used to think his maker hung the moon, but his child was different now, all while never really having changed at all. Perhaps having a child of his own now had made him see things in a whole new light. It had for Godric, anyway. "I told you I would not meet the sun. That should be good enough proof that I won't," He added as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.
Eric cast his eyes to the floor as if ashamed of challenging his maker. How could Godric put him in his place so easily without even raising his voice or changing his expression? Despite his fear and anger, Eric couldn’t help but to surrender then.
"I've missed you," Eric admitted instead, his focus still downcast to the floor. He did not want to watch his maker’s eyes well up with pity. He did not want to face the fact that he had not missed him back.
Yet Godric’s eyes softened as he looked over Eric, even if his child could not see him. He stood up and walked over to where the blond vampire was standing. He had missed Eric too, more than his child could ever understand. But he had never been good with feelings or expressing them, even to the only one he loved.
"I have missed you as well," He told him softly. Eric was surprised when his maker, the stone statue, melted at his confession. "You have done very well for yourself. I... I am very proud of you." Godric gave a small smile and took Eric's hand in his. "Come, let us rest."
Godric led his child into the bedroom and gently pushed him to lie down with him as they faced one another. Their height differences got in the way at times, Eric remembered, but never in this position. The older vampire automatically reached up to run his fingers through his child's hair. "You've cut it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It makes you look more grown up." He smiled faintly at his own humor.
Eric was still afraid that when he opened his eyes again the bed would be empty, and he held himself awake despite all his vampiric instincts. Yet his maker's fingers through his short hair soothed him and settled his nerves like nothing else could, and he felt himself finally relaxing. "Maybe you should try it then," he teased without breaking a smile.
Godric raised an eyebrow at his child. "I did, and it didn't work." Again, that smile. He was glad his child no longer seemed upset at him, but evidence of his earlier upset was still on his face in dried tears. Godric leaned forward and began to lick his face clean of blood. He held back a moan at Eric's familiar taste, having gone so long without it. He tasted like home.
When Eric closed his eyes and allowed his maker groom the blood from his face, it was like there had been no stance of time between them at all. Godric was eternally his dark angel, his dark god, his world. If he had been successful this night, there would be nothing left for him. Eric had risked so much to save him and only to learn Godric wanted death?
"Don't leave me again," Eric whispered shakily, tears threatening to begin flowing anew.
Godric closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Eric's. Eric had always had an independent, ambitious nature. Even before Godric had turned him, while he lay dying and watched his two comrades murdered by a demon child, he wanted to know what was in it for him. Godric soon learned, however, that his Viking king could be rather dependent, as if the metaphorical umbilical cord attaching them had never been scissored. Only he knew that secret about Eric Northman.
Godric had thought he had done the right thing by leaving. After all, Eric had been several centuries old by then, and he could clearly take care of himself. Godric had feared that Eric would start to resent him as he started his own endeavors, and the thought was too much to bear. It was a terrible feeling, knowing that the love of your unlife no longer needed you. The last thing Godric wanted was to hold Eric back from achieving his true potential. He should have known better, he thought to himself.
"Sleep, Eric, and we will talk again tomorrow night when you wake," Godric promised when at last Eric’s face was clean.
That was enough for Eric. Godric would be here when he woke up and that was all he could ask for right now. His maker had his cruel moments, but he had never been a liar. Sleep could come, knowing that. Feeling his maker's fingers soothe through his hair, he closed his eyes and let the dawn take him.
Godric continued to pet his child and watched him sleep for a while thereafter. He had forgotten how much pleasure just simply touching Eric could bring him. He was starting to see that he had been too hasty to let death claim him. After all, if there was something to live for, his Viking was it. He closed his eyes and for the first time in many years, he slept peacefully.
Godric was awake an hour before the sun had fully set, as usual. He took a shower and only bothered to put his pants back on as he wandered barefoot and aimless around Eric's hotel room, waiting for his child to wake. A few minutes before sunset, he heard Eric begin to stir and made his way back to the bedroom. He sat down beside him on the bed and watched as Eric's eyes fluttered open.
Eric felt a gentle pull out of sleep as if someone was gently shaking him, and opened his eyes to find Godric seated patiently on the side of his bed, shirtless and beautiful with wet hair. He blinked and simply drank in the sight before him as if it were a hazy dream image he was trying to cling onto.
"Are you thirsty? Do you need anything?" Eric asked when finally he was awake enough, because at this hotel, a complimentary breakfast was only a phone call away. Godric could sometimes neglect his own thirst and Eric knew it. His Maker insisted he needed very little blood anymore, and knowing his age, that may be true. But just because his ancient body no longer required it did not mean he may not want it.
"No. I am fine," Godric dismissed, looking down at his child. "Did you sleep well?" He found himself reaching out to take Eric's hand in his, and his child thrilled at the contact. Godric usually wasn't the first one to reach out to touch. However, Godric found it reassuring after last night’s unpredicted events, although he couldn't quite comprehend why it was so.
"Yes, I slept fine," Eric answered him simply. In the old days when they were together, Godric had always been there when he woke, night after night, no matter what. Eric could still remember the one night when he finally was not. He wondered how much longer he would have Godric like this. He sighed and stared down at their linked hands as if it was something to be studied. Then, slowly, he raised them to his lips and kissed his Maker’s exposed palm in an ancient, loving gesture they had shared so many times before.
Godric smiled softly at his Viking. This was the first time in a long time that he did not have a hundred things to do. Being Sheriff was a lot more work than most realized. The thought also reminded him that Eric would need to get back to Area 5 soon. An Area with an absent Sheriff was just asking for trouble.
Before he could ask his child how long he planned on being in Dallas, however, there was a knock at the door. He tilted his head to the side inquisitively, as if he were listening for something. "It is Isabel and some of your people." He said, forgetting Bill's and Sookie's names. He could also tell there was a very young female Vampire with them, but he had not met this one yet.
Eric knew exactly who his Maker meant and he sighed in response, suddenly not wanting at all to rise out of bed. He didn't want to see the others. They would only suggest Eric go back to Area 5, and his private moment with Godric would be over before it started. He wanted his Maker to himself, before he turned around and left him a second time.
"What the hell do they want? Tell them I'm busy." Eric shut his eyes lazily and moaned, as if he really were in the position to give a vampire like Godric orders. Godric raised an eyebrow at his child. The Viking had obviously not been around his Maker enough, as he had forgotten his manners. He stood up and looked down at his child with amusement.
"Shall I tell them I threw you out the window because I grew tired of your attitude? I'm sure they would believe that," he said over his shoulder as he walked out of the bedroom to see what the others needed, even though Isabel was his main concern. She was sure to be overwhelmed with her new position as Sheriff and he wanted to do whatever he could to help her. She had been a loyal subject for over forty years, and more than that, she was a good friend. Godric grabbed one of Eric’s T-shirts, inhaling the scent of his child as he slipped it over his head.
Eric gave his Maker a sly, fanged grin, having gotten the desired reaction from his boy-god-made-of-stone. Sometimes, challenging Godric was the only way to bring out his emotions. It was an old pastime of Eric’s; provoking his Maker to get a rise out of him, to watch him put Eric in his place, to see even a glimpse of the unbelievable power he possessed. He was about to provoke Godric further, maybe with a comment about how cute he looked in his own oversized clothes. Yet just as he opened his mouth, so did the door, and they were no longer alone.
"This better be good," Eric growled at the odd mixture of humans and vampires, old and new.
"Eric, you should be nicer to your guests," Godric told him simply, not chastising the other vampire in front of the others, but knowing how to get the 'threat' across to his stubborn child anyway. "Why don't you open the window and let some fresh air in?" he suggested innocently, holding back his smile, knowing Eric would remember the previous window threat. Godric invited the others to sit on the couches with a silent gesture as he himself sat on the loveseat.
"We are sorry to disturb you two; I just came to speak with Godric, the others met me in the hall," Isabel explained, but before she could continue, the very young red-headed vampire cut in, pushing past the others to come closer to Godric.
"You're a vampire too? I've never met another vampire like me before!" Jessica practically squeaked in excitement.
"Jessica!" her Maker admonished, but she completely ignored him.
"How old were you when you were turned?" She asked curiously and Godric blinked at how fast the words flowed from her mouth.
"I was almost sixteen," he answered her. He didn't remember a time when another vampire didn't speak carefully and respectfully around him. The girl's naiveté was refreshing.
Eric, however, immediately narrowed his eyes in anger. If it had been anyone but Godric, Eric would have snickered in amusement at the way this stupid fledgling was speaking to him, as if they were teenagers at the mall. Perhaps a very deep part of him was jealous of the way they looked at each other. Godric looked... pleased. Eric saw a spark of life in his eyes and he clenched his fists as he stood loyally near his Maker's chair. It angered Eric that this girl had no sense of respect, that she had no idea who she was dealing with.
"Godric is older than you will ever fathom." He corrected her quickly and angrily. "He is not like you, he is your elder."
"She is just a child, she did not mean any harm," Godric responded, trying to placate his own child. He wanted to reach out and touch Eric for reassurance but there was no way of doing so without being indiscreet.
"But that's just it, I'm not a child!" Jessica, it seems, did not have any sense of survival. Godric glanced back at her and saw she genuinely seemed upset. This conversation obviously had deeper meaning for her. Godric could relate to her in more ways than his child could realize.
"I apologize; I did not mean to offend,” Godric smiled at the young one. “To me, your Maker seems but a child."
"Really?" she asked, amazed. Godric smiled softly at her preserved innocence and hoped she would keep it much longer than he did. "But he's so old!"
"I have been around for a very long time," Godric answered gently and she looked at him adoringly, as if trying to figure out if he were telling the truth. She herself could not imagine being as old as this vampire boy.
Eric rolled his eyes dramatically at Jessica's immature reaction. For once, he felt bad for Bill, having to raise such an infant. She had no idea, no respect, and it angered him. "This child should not be here. She isn't a part of what just happened. Take her home to Bon Temps." He stared at the red-headed vampire as he spoke.
"She can only learn by being around others of her kind," Godric replied before Bill could, trying to assuage his child’s anger. "I doubt there are many vampires in Bon Temps."
"There's just me and Bill," she agreed, looking smugly at Eric as if she had won something, although Godric didn't really understand what. "And it's soooo boring... I like your tattoos." She grinned, stood up and came to sit beside Godric on the loveseat. He blinked at the sudden change of subject.
She reached out to trace the tattoos on his upper arm and he stiffened, then forced himself to relax.
"How cool," she said, mostly to herself, not realizing his discomfort.
Eric did not understand Godric's defence over the stupid child. He knew that Godric never really felt he deserved the title he held. He never really felt he deserved to be worshipped and respected. But Eric knew better, and refused to have people treat him any other way. So when the idiot child reached out to touch him, Eric was there to stop it.
"Enough!" Eric's voice boomed through the room, shaking the walls and causing Jessica to jump back as he shoved her hand off of his Maker. He stepped in between them, forming a protective wall in front of the older vampire. He did not look at Godric but instead turned to his subordinate, the unfortunate owner of this obnoxious young one. "Bill, take her out of here!" he demanded.
Bill did as he was told and grabbed the girl. He escorted her out, looking a bit in over his head with the girl, his first and only child. Bill’s guilt over turning her and his messed-up relationship with his own sire had caused issues in his own child-rearing. Sookie followed with a curious look between Eric's protective gesture toward Godric before she, too, left.
When only Isabel remained, she broke the tense silence. "If that girl’s heart hadn't already stopped beating I would say you gave her a heart attack," she said, amused.
"Eric, please sit down," Godric said quietly and indicated the space next to him.
Eric swallowed back a growl. At least he had gotten the majority of them out of the room. The only one left was Isabel, which he really did not mind at all. He knew Godric was quite fond of her, but he did not feel threatened. But he wished Godric had yelled at him, raised his voice, anything to make Eric look less like the hysterical fool while Godric remained calm and stoic.
Yet he did as his Maker asked and sat down without question, taking the seat which Jessica had invaded without right. "That was the point. She needs to learn this isn't show-and-tell at summer camp." He spoke calmly to Isabel.
"Vampires like her are the reason that I never became a Maker." Isabel agreed.
"She was turned too young," Godric spoke up, but stared down at the coffee table instead of the other occupants of the room. "It will take her a decade or two before the human hormones in her body finally filter out," he added, almost to himself, before he seemed to snap out of his reverie and looked up at Isabel. "What is it you needed to speak to me about?"
Isabel was looking at him differently, as if she just realized for the first time that he had been turned when he was even younger than Jessica. Most vampires could sense his age and they hardly noticed the teenage body.
"Yes, first I just wanted to say that I am honored by your nomination for me to be Sheriff. I will work hard to ensure your trust in me was not in vain," she began, giving him a deep nod of respect. Godric gave her a small smile and she continued. "I also wanted to warn you that the King of Texas is convinced that since you are no longer Sheriff, you will challenge him for his crown. You could be a target if you decide to stay in Texas."
Fear shot through Eric. Of course Godric will be challenged. In his retirement, he would be in danger from the very few that were strong enough to do so. And Godric, although he was perfectly capable of putting up a fight, might not have the willpower to fight anymore. And that was what scared Eric. The vampire sat up straight in his chair and looked at his female elder.
"Excuse me, Isabel, if I could have a quick word with Godric alone...?" he requested.
"Of course. I'm in the room across the hall if either of you needs me." She nodded, excusing herself and walked out.
"I have nothing to fear from the King of Texas. He might be incompetent but he is not stupid enough to start something with me." Godric tried to reassure his child because he knew that was what he wanted to discuss.
Eric didn't give a shit about the king. Sliding to his knees on the floor in front of the sitting vampire, he bowed his head as if he were praying to him. After a moment of silence, he gently grasped both his Maker's hands in his and rested his forehead on one of them.
"Come home with me," Eric whispered.
Godric sometimes wondered if the only reason Eric got down on his knees before him was to insure his full undivided attention, because that was always what Eric received in return. "Eric..." he stopped, unsure of what to say to the younger vampire. "Are you sure that is what you want? You have your own life now. I would not want you to give that up if that were not what you wanted."
His own life? Eric wanted no life if it meant continuing without Godric. For so many years he had felt alone, abandoned. He did not want to say this aloud, but he feared that the isolation Godric would feel, now that he had withdrawn from all titles of authority, would send him back into the Sun. And Eric wouldn't let that happen. He was sworn to protect Godric, to serve him, to be with him.
A father, a brother, a son.
Godric knew Eric would not have asked if it weren’t what he really wanted, but he wanted his Child to consider it. What Eric wanted now may not be what he wanted in the future. "I have already caused you so much pain," Godric whispered, mostly to himself.
"Then make it up to me," Eric begged softly, and tilted up his lover’s palm and kissed him there. "Please, Godric." He asked in their old language.
Godric cupped Eric's face and lifted it so he could look into his eyes, wanting to make sure Eric really wanted this. Finding nothing but genuine truth and honesty, Godric sighed and nodded in agreement. "If it is what you truly want, I will come with you to your home."
Relief washed over Eric and his shoulders slumped as if he had been holding up a weight. He let his forehead fall to rest on the vampire's knees. "I haven't wanted anything so much in a long time," he confessed as his eyes closed.
Godric was quiet for a moment as he ran his fingers through Eric's hair, over and over again. The process relaxed him just as much as it did Eric. The last few years they were together it seemed all they did was argue. He had thought that maybe they had run their course and it was the right thing to do to leave Eric, because he knew his child would never leave him. One thing Eric had always been was loyal. Yet Godric had not anticipated just how much leaving would hurt himself. It was as if he had torn his dead heart out and left it with Eric after they went their separate ways.
Oh, he had been aware that he loved Eric. He had loved him since he first saw him in human form, fighting on a battlefield, and that love grew the longer they were together. Eric getting struck down that night so many centuries ago had seemed like fate. Godric just didn't realize how much he loved Eric until he had left him.
And now they were brought together again, each given a second chance. Maybe he could do things right this time. Maybe he could try not to close himself off as much. He had over two thousand years of practice, it would not be an easy thing to overcome, but for his child he would try.
Eric closed his eyes as Godric was silent, content just to feel his Maker's fingers through his shortened hair. Perhaps the years really had damaged him. Yet Godric had given him something to live for in himself. It must mean something. It had to.
"I sent people to Shreveport, to check up on you from time to time," Godric confessed quietly after a moment. "The last time was a few weeks ago and they said you were still doing well. I had thought you would be okay without me. Now, I am thinking that was selfish of me. I apologize."
Eric lifted his head off his Maker's lap and furrowed his brows in confusion as he looked up at him. "You sent others but not yourself?" For years Eric had wondered and waited. Pam had been his compensation for losing Godric. He thought that having a child himself would fill the emptiness inside of him. And although Eric loved Pam completely, she was never able to fill the void Godric had left. And all this while, Godric could have come back to him, but choose to send others.
Years later, Eric found out that Godric was alive, and the resentment came. Yet Eric did not go after him, knowing that Godric left him for a reason. Godric didn't want him anymore; he finally got fed up with Eric’s rebellious nature and left him, abandoned him. Or at least that was what the hurt had felt like.
"I did not want to interfere," Godric said simply, not elaborating. He wanted Eric to have his independence, but he worried about him too much to just let him go. The not knowing what his child doing bothered him more than he thought it would.
Eric looked directly in Godric’s gray eyes even when they did not meet his own. It was more often than not just like this. Godric was not big on eye contact unless he really meant to get one's attention. But his eyes were beautiful when Eric got the chance to see them.
"You're my Maker. Your job is to interfere." Eric bowed his head to tell him with a hint of resentment. All this time had gone by, and Godric chose not to show himself? If Godric’s people that he had sent out were any good at all, they would have noticed Eric's loneliness, he thought to himself. He laid his forehead on Godric's palm again as if he were praying at the feet of a god.
"For as long as you are alive... I belong to you." And even after death, Eric thought to himself. He had no doubt that even if Godric had been successful in his rooftop escape, Eric would have felt him.
Godric wasn't sure what to say. The older vampire was never one for words at moments like these, and to have Eric say something so profound, well, if he needed to breathe it would have taken his breath away. He stayed perfectly still, looking down at his child's bowed head.
"Do you not resent me for that? For making you into what you are?" Godric asked even though he dreaded the answer. He had taught Eric better than to say yes, he had taught him to be proud of what he was.
Eric chuckled softly at the question. He had watched Godric kill his friends, his loyal comrades, every single one of them. And yet it had only served to symbolize his own mortal death. With it came rebirth into Godric's life. A rebirth into darkness. There he had been, waiting for death to take him, waiting for the funeral pyre to be lit. What he didn't know was that death would save him, in the form of a little boy with fangs. One look into Godric's feral, gray eyes and his past was forgotten, and the window into darkness opened. He wanted Godric more than he had ever wanted anything in his mortal life, more than women and war and victory and his family. Eric wanted Godric like he wanted life. To Eric, Godric was all-consuming and had been ever since.
Finally, Eric stood, towering over the reclining boy. "You know the answer to that question," he responded simply.
"I think you like being a vampire," Godric said as he lifted himself to his feet, but even standing, Eric towered over him. He put his hand on Eric's chest and stared at it. "I do not regret making you, even though I swore that when I was made, I would never make another. You have a talent for breaking rules."
Despite Godric's shorter frame, Eric did not feel as though he lorded over his Maker. He never had. "I know. Rules were meant to be broken." Eric smiled down at Godric even as his Maker stared at his chest as if it held all the meaning in the world. Eric’s own arms remained at his sides, holding back from tracing the tattoos on his Maker's arm. He always harbored mixed feelings about the ink on Godric’s body. Although each one was breathtakingly beautiful, they were reminders of a past Eric did not know. They were reminders that Godric had once belonged to another.
"I have the habit of bringing out a lot of things in you. Or at least I used to,” Eric whispered provocatively, a bold, devious smile spreading across his face.
There was a little twitch to Godric's lips. "I would not call it a habit, more like a gift. No one has ever gotten the kind of reaction out of me that you can." Unlike his child, who, in his youth had probably deflowered every girl he had ever known, Godric had never had much of a sex drive until Eric. After Godric turned him, it was as though Eric had flipped a switch inside of him. Eric had a tendency to awaken emotions and to provoke primal, carnal needs in Godric that he hadn’t known he could ever possess. It was as if he gave new life to himself by giving his blood to his child and making him his.
"So you aren't made of stone after all." There was a teasing tone to his child’s voice as Eric smirked. He above all others knew that Godric certainly was not the statue he sometimes appeared to be. Underneath the calm and collective demeanor was a boy just as troubled as any other vampire. In him, Eric could still see the human boy he once was. "Even after all these years."
Yet Godric felt like stone sometimes, like a crumbling statue of old that was well past its time. Perhaps that's why he thought meeting the sun seemed like such a good idea. He removed his hand from Eric and went to stand by the window to look out at the city lights. The night lights of Dallas made it impossible to see the stars. He was tired of not being able to see them.
"Your opinion is biased. You see what you want to see." Godric spoke quietly. He was trying to keep his distance from Eric emotionally by pushing him away, even while he didn't understand why he was doing it. He had not felt anything in a very long time and he knew Eric was the only one capable of making him feel. And that scared him.
"You're wrong," Eric whispered and walked soundlessly to his Maker, and out reached his hand, but retracted it back shakily before it could touch Godric's back. He desperately wanted to change his Maker’s forlorn expression, but as usual, he felt helpless to do so. Finally, Eric took a brave step forward and began to massage the nape of his Maker’s neck, softly and gently, as if asking permission if he could go on. Eric did not know what Godric craved more- to feel something or to feel nothing at all. He did not know what Godric craved last night on the roof.
Godric slowly began to relax under Eric's hand. With the exception of the episode with Jessica, he could not remember the last time someone had touched him. Most vampires were not big on touching, and most feared the power Godric exuded. Even humans that did not understand what he was and could not meet his eyes, much less accidently brush up against him.
"It would not be the first time." Godric smiled, looking at Eric's reflection in the glass, it was easier to meet his child's eyes this way. His eyes made people nervous, he knew. Perhaps it was because he had such an old soul in such a young body.
"No, it would not," Eric agreed, and taking that as permission, he stepped in between Godric and the window. He forced himself to become the object of his Maker's attention, putting himself in plain view in hope of eye contact. "When you came to me when I was mortal and dying... your eyes never left mine." There was a smile playing on Eric’s lips and he stared directly into his Maker's downcast eyes despite their dramatic size difference. No one else dared to challenge Godric like this, except maybe that bitch Nan Flanagan.
“I’m aware of the discomfort I cause others when I look at them,” Godric replied, finally looking up at Eric and giving him a small smile. Eric didn't flinch or look away, and it was refreshing to Godric. "I forget how different you are."
"Uncomfortable is perhaps the last emotion I feel when you look at me," Eric confessed to him, wanting desperately to reach out and touch him, to cup his face in his hands or feel his lips on his but as Godric was his Maker, Eric had a natural instinct to let him make the first move. And now, Eric was begging for it. He had been since he had found Godric in the basement of the church.
"You are older than all of us, and you have the deepest soul," Eric told him. After all he had done, even though it was foolish and angered Eric more than he could ever convey in words, Godric proved a lot of things during his nights with the Fellowship of the Sun.
"I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around," Godric answered, bringing his hand to cup Eric's face, letting his thumb trace over Eric's lips with a childish look of fascination. "You have always worked so hard to protect me, even from myself. Sometimes I think you forget who the Maker is." Godric smiled sadly up at his Viking. “I have not been a good Maker to you."
"Oh, I doubt you would ever let me forget who the Maker is here." Eric smirked with a low chuckle. He would admit that in the past, he used to defy his Maker just to get Godric to put him in his place. Perhaps it was entirely his fault they used to argue so much. But all that was a human lifetime ago. "And you know that is not true. But if you insist, you can make it up to me by keeping your promise to stay with me." Eric turned his face to kiss the palm of his Maker's hand that cupped his cheek. "You can even share my bed," he added boldly.
"You were never one for sharing... you take up the whole bed," Godric teased, being deliberately obtuse with his child.
Eric grinned playfully, his fangs glistening; they had snapped out involuntarily just from being so close to Godric. He wanted so badly to drink from his Maker, he wanted to feel the bond rekindling all over again, he wanted to fill his body with his Maker’s strength and love and essence. And then he wanted his lover to take it right back from him, completing the cycle so that he was reborn. And although patience was never one of Eric Northman’s virtues, he would wait until Godric thought it was time.
"I'm tall... I need room to stretch out. I can buy us an extra-large king sized bed if you wish for it," Eric proposed. Anything for his Maker.
"You would just take up all of that, too," Godric teased, letting his hand drag down Eric's chest. "If I did not know better, I would say you have gotten even bigger."
"I might have." Eric grinned deviously at his own sexual innuendo. He always loved teasing Godric if only for the pleasure that came with shock value. Making Godric laugh used to always be so easy, especially when Eric was a clumsy infant vampire.
Godric shook his head, even as his lips twitched with a ghost of a smile. He had feared Eric would never outgrow his ridiculous, offensive sense of humor, and he was right. Godric secretly loved it, of course, and his child’s charm always made up for it, somehow.
"When are you... we returning to your district?" Godric asked, trying to deflect Eric'c mind onto something else. The vampire hotel, where the currently were, was supposed to have top notch security. But having so many people staying under one roof always made him nervous.
Eric's wanted to see a smile on Godric's face. A real, genuine smile. Not the polite ones he gave to the others, not the sad ones he gave Eric. He wanted to see Godric laugh. "Whenever you wish it. We can leave now if you'd like."
"I think I have had enough of Dallas." Godric nodded, remembering that most of his things had been destroyed during the bombing. All he had left were the clothes on his back. He would have to buy clothes at some point, something his loyal Isabel had always happily done for him.
Eric nodded. "I'm sorry you lost so much," he apologized, even though he knew Godric never really cared for material things. Not much would be missed. And compared to the other vampires present at that bombing, some of which had lost their friends and lovers, both vampire and human, Godric did not lose much of anything.
"I can give you anything you need... just ask and you will have it," Eric promised. He planned to demand nothing but royal respect and service be shown to Godric in Shreveport. "I'm afraid you may not approve of Fangtasia, however. It's in poor taste," Eric chuckled to himself at his own pun.
"I have everything I need right here," Godric told Eric, and he meant it. Eric was his only reason for living anymore. If it was not for his loyal child, he would have already met the sun by now. "I'm sure it will be fine.” He dismissed Eric’s last comment. “And I am looking forward to meeting your child."
Eric was just glad it wasn't Sookie his Maker tried to bring up again. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to explain that when he asked again. "After you left me, I made Pam to cure my want for you. It did not quite work. But I am very proud of her," Eric told him. Pam was his partner in crime, his best friend, his daughter. His love for her ran just as deep as his love for Godric, but they were not lovers.
"I am glad you found a child. I am sure you are a very good Maker," Godric said lifting Eric's chin so that he would look at him. "Deciding to leave you was the hardest thing I have ever done. But you needed to grow on your own without me. I thought I was holding you back from your full potential, and I did not wish you to resent me for it later," Godric told him. He wanted Eric to know now why he had done what he had all those years ago.
Eric wanted to shake his head. He did not need to grow up alone to learn how to live. Some vampires might choose to live out their lives in solitude, but Eric was not one of them. Unlike Godric, Eric had been blessed with a long mortal life and had grown into a man. He knew what he wanted in his vampiric life. Godric would never have that chance. He could not understand. Yet all this talk about resentment and regrets and abandonment was making Eric weary. He was sick of it.
Eric wanted the here and now. He wanted more. He wanted to kiss his Maker but he did not dare. Godric sometimes reacted violently when surprised, and did not like it when Eric smothered him. But oh god, Eric wanted him. He was here, he was Eric’s again, yet he did not feel as though anything had been consummated.
"Let's not dwell on the past. I'll take you home."
Godric finally understood the phrase Home is where the heart is. because no place had ever felt like home unless it was with Eric.
A long plane ride later, and the two vampires were in the back of a rented limo on their way to Fangtasia. Godric had been silent most of the way, and now that they were getting close to his child’s home, he finally seemed to wake up and start taking in his surroundings. Downtown Shreveport had a lot of older buildings, and although it was a big town compared to a place like Bon Temps, it had nothing on Dallas. Godric liked that.
Eric, meanwhile, worried for his withdrawn maker the entire trip home. Twice he asked Godric if he needed blood, if he wanted Eric to arrange something upon their arrival in his hometown. Yet Godric declined each offer, earning only sighs from Eric. It was close enough to dawn when they finally arrived, that there was no one waiting up for them. Eric guided Godric to his apartment.
"You must be tired. I will show you where I rest. It is safe; no windows and secure locks," Eric told him.
"It is very nice Eric, you have done very well," Godric nodded while he glanced around the apartment before following Eric to the bedroom. It was just as Eric described: no windows and a queen-sized bed with black satin sheets. Godric raised an eyebrow at his child's taste, and smiled. He slipped off his shoes and pulled off his shirt as he climbed into the welcoming bed. It smelled of Eric, and he decided he would definitely be resting well.
Eric made a secret vow to himself that he would not hog the bed or the covers as he was so notorious for doing. He smiled and slipped off his own shirt and shoes. He could have easily put on another shirt but chose not to. Modesty was never one of Eric Northman’s virtues. Besides, he knew how much Godric loved his bare chest, and looking down at the elegant way his maker lounged on his bed, Eric was reminded of how much he loved his maker’s. He had memorized each and every one of Godric's tattoos in such detail over the years, that he was sure he could draw them blind.
Eric smirked before raising his hands to clap loudly, triggering the lights to go out, leaving only a dim light that would mimic the moon if there had been windows.
"I have a clapper. It's very convenient," he chuckled. He slipped beneath the covers beside his maker and turned onto his side so he was facing him. In the darkness Eric could still make out Godric’s features with his sharp, vampiric eyes. After a little hesitation, he reached out a hand to run down Godric’s arm. Toned but adolescent, the feel of his smooth skin taunt with muscle, sent Eric's fangs on edge, just this simple touch that was not quite a caress.
A clapper. What would humans think of next? Was it really that difficult to stand up and turn out the light? Of course, Godric thought the same thing when electricity was first invented. His train of thought, however, was interrupted by the soft touch in the dark. He was surprised. His child had grown bold. He allowed the touch and sighed deeply, an old human habit, as he relaxed further into the covers.
Eric never thought a sigh could be so beautiful. The soft, human motion caused Eric's dead heart to swell, and suddenly, nothing could hold him back from Godric. His worshipping hand ran down Godric’s arm, as if he could feel the heat of the sun he missed so much through his maker’s skin. Eric closed his eyes and dipped his head to lay his lips on Godric's upper chest along the ink decorating his collar bone.
Godric's eyes fluttered shut as Eric's lips touched his skin. His hand came to run his fingers through Eric's hair for a moment before suddenly and unexpectedly, his grip tightened, and he pulled Eric up so that Eric’s mouth was pressed to the crook of his neck. Godric tilted his head to the side in a clear invitation.
Those two words stirred the primal, animalistic need inside Eric that was in every vampire. For the first time since his birth to darkness, Eric felt out of breath, like he had to pant to take in sufficient air or like he would suffocate as his lips attacked his maker's neck. Sometimes Godric had a way of making him feel very human. Other times, he just made Eric feel like the lover of a God. He was desperate to belong to Godric again, to have his blood dominating his veins, to be reborn. It had been too long. He was empty and yearned to be full.
Eric did not so much as kiss Godric’s soft throat before driving his fangs deep into his flesh, moaning at the surge of blood that flowed into his mouth. Eric’s arms came around Godric, feeling the contours of his upper body as he suckled the wound. This must have been what Odin felt when drinking the sap from the Tree of Yggdrasil, or what the Christians meant by the Blood of Christ, Eric thought through his red haze. With his eyes closed, he could still believe they were in that forest a thousand years ago. A companion of death, that was what Eric was again as he swam in his veins.
Another sigh of pleasure ghosted from Godric’s lips as Eric's fangs tore deeper into his throat. He had not let anyone take him this way since Eric last had. There had been times when one of his young nest mates had been hurt and he had offered his ancient blood from his wrist, but it was never in such an intimate embrace as this. Godric could not take back the pain he had caused his child over the years, but he did plan on making up for it. One of his hands continued to pet Eric's hair, encouraging him to take as much blood as he needed, while his other hand explored the familiar planes of Eric's back.
Eric moaned in pleasure as he shifted fully on top of Godric. No blood was wasted, none dripped, as it was too precious to lose, as he continued to drink greedily. His hands smoothed down his maker's chest shakily before they moved to Godric's clothed thighs. In the past, it was never enough to simply take his maker’s blood. The blood always only made him want Godric more. Only when they shared body with blood were either of them ever sated.
"Not yet," Godric whispered as he caught Eric's wandering hands with his own. His own body responded to the feeling of being drained and he was half-hard with anticipation, but it was not the right time.
Eric tore himself from his maker's neck and watched the wound in fascination as it healed. His hands were frozen in place on Godric’s thighs, stopped by another set of stronger hands. His lips were red with smeared blood as he lifted them to his maker's, desperate to at least have a kiss.
"Why not?" He whispered against them.
Godric stared at Eric's blood stained lips after the kiss. "It's not..." He let himself trail off because he did not know how to explain it. "...the right time," he finished lamely, knowing that did not really make any sense to either vampire. He traced Eric’s perfect lips with his tongue, moaning at the taste of his blood on his child.
Eric's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at Godric's unsatisfying answer. Before he could ask again, he saw the hunger flash in his maker's eyes and his lips turned up in a grin, his fangs still fully extended. Quickly, so Godric could not see it coming, he pressed his lips to his maker’s in a deep kiss, invading his mouth with his tongue. He moaned at this different taste that was just as sweet as his blood, trying to awaken Godric’s suppressed hunger that he knew was there just under the surface.
Godric moaned and they fought for dominance in the kiss. Using his superior strength, Godric flipped them so that he was on top and pinned Eric’s hands above his head. He pulled away from Eric's lips and looked down at his child, dazed from the bloody kiss and in awe of his maker. Godric's eyes were dark with lust and alive with hunger.
The kiss seemed to wake something in Godric, something the Viking had missed terribly and was worried he might never see again. It was the beautiful, savage, primal thirst of a vampire, and Eric was automatically hypnotized. Surrendering underneath Godric like willing prey, Eric was unable to keep his own clouded eyes off his maker's sharp fangs. He made no move to break Godric's hold, not that he could have budged him if he tried. But why would he want to? Eric was hard under the restricting clothes in between them and knew that Godric could feel it.
Just because Eric was held down, however, did not mean he could not tease Godric right back. Grinning, he nipped at Godric's bottom lip, not quite drawing blood, but sharply enough to elicit more hunger in them both. If his hands had been free, they would be all over Godric, so his lips did the work as they nipped with fanged teeth.
"Take me, then..." Eric begged after another heated kiss, and tilted his neck in submission to his maker. Eric’s submission was almost Godric’s undoing, and he let his hands slide down from where they lay on Eric's wrists until they rested on the other vampire's chest.
"You always surrender so sweetly," Godric said in a hushed whisper, but he was practically vibrating with the effort to hold himself back. Eric’s freed hands found their way back to Godric's body, sliding down his maker's chest and down his slim torso. If he could not have Godric’s body, he would at least need the blood-sharing cycle to be complete.
"Please, Godric..." Eric begged again in their old language, lost to the modern world. "Take it." He exposed his neck even further, his hands burning against his maker's thighs.
Godric finally could not hold himself back anymore, and he leaned forward to give Eric’s neck a tentative lick before slowly sinking his fangs into it. He moaned at the first taste of Eric's blood. To Godric, Eric tasted of lust and love and everything good in life and death. His hand came up to wrap around the other side of Eric's head, as if holding him in place, even though his child was a willing captive.
Eric cried out when, at last, he felt the penetration of his maker's fangs. But he was caught off guard by the gentleness of the act. In the past when they would share blood it was fast and aggressive, a predator-and-prey inspired power struggle. Yet this was as close to making love as blood sharing could get. Eric moaned and his body fell completely limp, except for one particular part of him that was pressing into his maker's hip.
Eric’s hands never stopped their exploration of Godric's half-naked body, memorizing it, as if touching it for the first time. They teased the edge of his maker's pant-line, the younger vampire emitting a low growl in frustration when it would not budge, and pressed up on Godric's hips with his own.
Humans will never understand the bond between a vampire and his maker, Eric thought to himself. They can never know the feeling of mixing blood, becoming one, the way a vampire and their progeny can.
Godric pulled away from Eric when he had had his fill. He licked the wound until it was completely healed. He kept his face in the crook of Eric's neck, and it was not until he started coming out of his blood-induced high that Godric realized how restless Eric's hands had gotten.
"No, Eric," he chastised quietly as the younger vampire attempted to work open his pants. Godric was just as hard as Eric, but he had had a lot longer to practice self-control than his child had. Eric made a whining noise of protest, but the two simple words stopped his hands dead in their tracks. He gave another angst-ridden groan as he rode out the waves of pleasure in his post-blood sharing haze. But it had only satisfied Eric’s symbolically beating heart and soul and left his body wanting.
"What's wrong? Why don't you want it?" Eric dared to keep asking. His thoughts were swimming through a heavy ocean current and he could not grasp them. His hands grew bold again and ran down the insides of his maker's clothed thighs. His maker still desired him. The blood had told him that. But why else would he refuse him? Was this a cruel power play?
Another low growl of warning came from Godric as his child grew bold again. There were not many times Godric let his feral side show, not anymore. Part of Godric was scared that if he let that side out, he might never be able to suppress it again. He took a deep, calming breath and sounded much more like himself when he spoke again.
"I just want to stay like this," Godric said, indicating their positions.
Eric immediately dropped his hands to his side even before the boy could finish growling. There were many times that Eric had heard such thunder from his maker, and he knew very well what it meant.
"I love you," Eric whispered in their ancient tongue. There were no other words to say.
Godric sat up and looked into Eric's eyes before he finally leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "I love you above all others," he whispered in a voice so gentle it left Eric surprised again. Those words struck whatever soul he had left as if he had waited years to hear it. Godric lay back down and nuzzled into Eric's neck. "Now go to sleep."
It had been so long since they had shared a bed, that Eric fell asleep right away, soothed by the old comfort and familiarity of it all.
Godric watched Eric sleep for awhile before he too, felt the pull of the sun and allowed himself to rest.
It was not but a few hours later that Godric’s eyes snapped open in alarm and he grabbed the hand that held a stake inches away from his child's heart. He immediately snapped bone, and the man let out a yell before weakly attempting to scamper away. Godric stood, his body screaming at him that it was too early to be awake.
He grabbed the human intruder before he could escape and knocked him out. Usually, Godric would have killed him, but they would need answers later. He picked up the man and carried him to the bathroom. Godric did not want the man to regain consciousness and escape before they woke in the evening, so when he shut the bathroom door, he simply tore the handle off. The only way to open it now would be to knock it down.
Now that he knew Eric was safe, it was as though all the energy Godric had drained out of him and he collapsed onto the floor, sound asleep as blood dripped out of his nose, eyes and ears.
Eric stirred the next evening to the absence of weight on his chest. He snapped awake instantly and jolting out of bed faster than any human eye could follow, feeling in his blood that something was wrong.
"Godric!" Eric cried out, panicked and leaning over his sleeping maker. When Godric did not immediately wake, Eric shot up to his feet, shoving open his apartment door and was shocked to find it unlocked.
"Get in here!" he shouted to Pam or anyone else who would hear his cries. Godric's eyes began to flutter open, either from the noise or from the feeling of Eric's panic. He wanted to continue sleeping, but his child's worry was his worry.
"Eric, calm down," Godric sighed, slowly sitting up. He looked at the ground as if amused to find himself in such a position. "There is a human locked in the bathroom. Do not kill him. We need to find out who he is," he tried to explain. Godric purposely left out the detail about the man trying to stake Eric. He would explain that when his child was calmer.
Eric dropped back down to the floor and leaned over Godric, looking over his maker’s body for signs of injury, but other than the blood leaking from ears and nose, he found none.
"What happened?!" Eric demanded.
"Dammit, Eric, it's too early-" Pam yawned as she lazily entered the room, but stopped when she saw Godric lying bloody on the floor.
"I am fine, I had to wake and it was too early, even for me," Godric tried to explain again. He looked at Eric. "If you would listen to me, you would know there is a man locked in the bathroom. He came in while we were sleeping."
Eric heard him that time, and his fangs immediately unsheathed. He emitted a low, predatory growl towards the closed bedroom door. Pam gave an exasperated sigh, as if it was little more than a bug that needed to be squashed, and fixed her hair before walking past the two vampires to the bedroom.
"I'll go look," she told them.
Eric was still focused on his maker. "Can you get up?” he asked, and bent down on his knees to try and assist Godric off the floor.
"I am all right, I just needed a moment," Godric assured him, pushing Eric's hands away gently. He knew Eric would smother him like a mother hen if he did not get up, so he forced himself to stand. His joints felt achy and his head was pounding, but it was nothing. Just then, Pam walked out of the bathroom with the human and deposited him onto the floor at Eric and Godric’s feet.
"Vampires aren't supposed to be able to wake up at midday," the captive muttered sullenly as he clutched his broke arm to his chest.
"Most cannot," Godric replied. His hand reached out to grab the human’s hair, bringing his face up so he could catch the man's eye and glamoured him instantly. "Who sent you and what was your mission?"
"The Vampire King of Dallas sent me to stake Eric Northman," he answered obediently. Godric had the man so well glamoured that he didn’t even have to ask his next question out loud. "He said that Northman had to die… That if he died, The Ancient One would have no reason to continue. Northman is the Ancient One's only weakness."
Glamoured humans were too weak to lie. Upon instinct, Eric's flashed his fangs and lunged at the hypnotized man on the ground. Pam stopped him with a hand flat to his chest, and Eric allowed it, still snarling at the human.
"Wait," she whispered softly to her maker.
"Why does he want to kill Godric?" Eric demanded.
"He believes that Godric will go after his throne, now that he no longer is a Sheriff. There were many high ranking Vampires in King Thomas's court that were upset over Nan Flannigan's decision to take away Godric's title. The king believes Godric's supporters will ban together to overthrow Thomas, since he stood behind Nan Flannigan's decision," the glamoured human answered.
Eric turned to Godric. That was all the information they needed to know. "Can I kill him now?!" he snarled.
"That would not solve anything, Eric," Godric answered, his eyes never leaving the captive’s. "We will let you go, with a message. You will tell King Thomas that I have not, nor have I ever, had any interest in ruling, but he committed a crime against the Queen of Louisiana by attempting to murder one of her Sheriffs, and my child. She will be informed of this."
Eric growled and towered over the human, just begging for the chance to drain him dry. Pam’s hand still held him back. The man was in the lion's den, the scent of blood from his arm filling the room and even Pam's fangs made an appearance from the smell of it. The human stood up to leave but Godric grabbed him and pulled him closer; the next part of the message was much more important.
"Tell him that if he ever, ever attempts anything against my child or my child's child, I will rip his heart out and eat it for breakfast," Godric snarled, and the hypnotized man’s eyes widened. With that said, Godric let the man go and watched as he practically bolted out the door.
Normally, Eric would not question Godric’s actions, but he had hurt Godric. Godric had taken the hit that was supposed to be for him, and the frustration with having no revenge was driving Eric to hysterics.
"He's going to come back. Why did you let him go? He's going to come back during the day! You should have killed him! I'd say that's a better message to the goddamn King!" Eric shouted.
"You do not have to shout, Eric, I can hear you just fine," Godric responded, walking into the bathroom and turning on the sink to wash off the blood from his face. He came back into the room with a wash cloth, still trying to get the blood off of himself. "He was only doing what Thomas ordered him to do. If he comes back again, I will take care of it," he spoke calmly in the face of his child’s anger.
"You should have let me take care of it. Then I would not have to sit around worrying about being prepared the next time he comes back to kill you. They might send someone else next time, someone stronger, like a werewolf. I am not going to wait around for something else to happen," Eric insisted stubbornly. Godric was paler than usual and it worried him.
"He was not trying to kill me; the stake was aimed at your heart," Godric explained. Thomas had the right idea, Godric had to admit. The King knew he could not simply kill Godric, and it made sense to go after his offspring instead. Thomas probably imagined Godric would leave the States if Eric died, since he knew the only reason Godric had come to North America was to be closer to his child.
Godric sat on the edge of Eric’s bed, suddenly feeling weary from all this political scandal. This was precisely why he did not want a kingdom. He had only reluctantly agreed to be Sheriff when the position was first offered to him.
"Call your queen and tell her Thomas sent an assassin after you, but leave my name out of it for now," he told his child.
The last thing Godric needed was for the Queen of Louisiana to be worried about an ancient vampire in her territory. She already had Eric, and Godric was sure that Sophie-Anne thought she had him under her thumb. Eric threw his hands in the air as if nothing he had been saying was sinking into his maker's skull.
"It does not matter whose heart the stake was pointed at. It's you they are after," Eric reminded him. "I'm going to have to hide you... No one is to know you’re here with me. You should not have let that bastard go so soon.” Eric tried to keep himself from losing his temper. Sometimes, he simply did not understand the way his maker handled things.
"I am not hiding Eric," Godric shook his head. He walked to his child to comfort him, remembering that Eric was a very physical person. Godric had found over the years that a simple touch could calm Eric down quickly. That was when the elder vampire finally turned his head to face Pam. She promptly bowed her head in respect, as if she were apologizing for her own erratic behavior. Godric gave her a gentle smile.
"I see why you choose her, she reminds me of you at that age," Godric commented. Pam lifted her head shyly and offered him a smile. "Would you mind giving Eric and me a moment, Pamela?" he asked, and when she nodded and left, he turned back to Eric. "You worry too much. I can carry my own, so to speak."
Eric glared at his maker defiantly. "You do not worry enough. It does not matter how strong you are, you still have vulnerabilities.” He would have to go to the queen but he was not going to leave Godric unprotected exactly where the enemy knew he was.
"I am fine," Godric dismissed. Although lying down did not sound like a bad idea, he did not want Eric to have any more reason to worry. "I only want to shower and then I want to see your club." He smiled, hoping to divert Eric's attention.
"You are not fine," Eric insisted. Godric did not need to shower, he needed to lie down and to drink back his strength. Eric grabbed Godric's arm, a bold move, but it prevented him from escaping. Godric had to hold back a snarl. He did not like to be touched suddenly, and he did not like to be man-handled. Eric knew that. Godric was beginning to lose his patience, something that did not happen easily, but his child knew what buttons to push. Godric gently pushed an offered wrist away, but his tone was a bit sterner.
"I said I was fine, Eric. Let it go," he said as he removed Eric's hand from his arm.
Eric did not know whether to be hurt or angry or worried, so all three emotions gripped him at once. He recognized the annoyance in his maker's voice but for once did not back down. "You're going to sit around and suffer instead of accepting my help? And what does that prove, Godric? It is not safe for you here anymore. I brought you into danger, now I have to get you out. Once I know you are safe I will go to the queen." Eric had already nearly lost Godric on the rooftop, and that memory was still fresh in Eric’s mind. By some unearthly miracle, Eric had gotten him back, and he was not going to lose Godric again.
"I am not trying to prove anything," Godric explained, glaring at a spot on the floor instead of looking at Eric. He could not believe Eric thought he would just let him stow him away somewhere 'safe' until he got back, as if he were a child that could not care for himself. "You did not bring me anywhere. I chose to come with you. It was my decision. And I am not in any danger."
In truth, Godric was more worried about Eric than himself. That was perhaps the only thing holding him back from lashing out at Eric for his insubordination. Secretly, Godric loved Eric for his stubborn, child-like attitude. It was part of what made him Eric, and Godric would not change him for the world. In the past, Godric rarely had been forced to command Eric as his maker, using it only at times when his child was in danger and too stubborn to admit it. When Godric's own maker had used that tone, it was something to be feared. Godric had never wanted Eric to fear him.
Eric finally let his shoulders slump in defeat. They could have gone on arguing for hours and it would not resolve anything. Eric was not the kind of vampire to sit around and wait for something to happen, especially when it came to Godric. He was angry. He had to act on that anger, which meant going to see the queen. It had to happen tonight, before the man reported back to the king. But Eric knew the queen well enough to know how difficult she could be.
"Once I visit the Queen it is hard to leave," he explained to Godric, eyes cast to the ground as if in remorse. He wanted to be close to Godric again, he wanted to feel his comfort, but knew better than to initiate it himself. "I can leave Pam to look after you," he sighed, giving in.
Godric's own anger had faded considerately. A gentle hand forced Eric's chin up so that he was no longer looking down but into Godric's eyes instead. "If it would make you feel better, I will stay somewhere else," Godric offered, feeling as though he were giving in himself. He had put Eric through a lot of grief in the last few days, and he still felt guilty. He did not want to see Eric disheartened for any other reason.
Eric had used this strategy in the past, manipulatively. It was perhaps Godric's only undoing – to see his strong, brave Viking defeated. Yet he never really was. He always got his way, even with someone as unmovable as Godric. All Eric had to do was hang his head and act sullen, and pretend to give in, and the vampire made of stone was putty in his hands.
"Where will you stay? Bon Temps is in chaos, something about a maenad. You cannot go there," Eric told him, because he assumed Godric might have thought about lodging with Sookie and Bill. But they had bigger problems of their own.
A Maenad? Godric had not known the kind was still around. It made the child in him instinctively curious, but he did not want Eric to see his interest. "I am good at hiding, and I will not go far from Shreveport," he assured Eric before wrapping his arms around Eric's waist and pulling him close into an embrace. "When you get back from the Queen’s palace, I will know and join you then.”
Too short to reach Eric with a kiss, Godric laughed at his own predicament and pulled Eric's head down so that their lips touched softly. Eric was the first to deepen the kiss, leaning down to battle his lover's tongue with his own, as if it would be their last. He wanted to put all business aside then and swing Godric onto the bed, but what kind of Sheriff would that make him?
Godric pulled away reluctantly before the kiss became too heated. "You better go," he said, squeezing Eric once more before letting go. The sooner Eric left, the sooner he would be back. "Try not to let her keep you too long."
"Why? You'll miss me more?" Eric could not help but tease him. Godric watched as Eric rummaged around the room for the things he would need to travel.
"It will certainly be more boring without you here, as you always require so much of my attention," Godric answered, keeping a perfectly straight face. He was certain that Eric often misbehaved just to get the attention he desired. What Eric did not know was that Godric's attention was always on him, no matter what he did. "You mentioned a Maenad... In Bon Temps?" he asked nonchalantly.
Eric froze in place and realized he had let it slip to Godric about the Maenad. He recognized the curiosity in his tone of voice, or rather, the lack of tone. His maker was interested, far too interested. And no matter how strong he was, Eric did not want Godric messing with something equally as strong or, Gods forbid, even stronger. He also knew that a bored Godric was dangerous Godric. The boy would put his own safety aside in order to find something new to amuse him.
"Do not go to Bon Temps. Godric, I won't allow it. You need to stay as far away from that town as possible,” Eric pleaded.
"You will not allow it?" Godric smiled with amusement as if Eric had made a joke. "I am merely curious. I have not run into a Maenad in many years, since before I created you."
Eric gripped his hands into fists. "Well then stay curious. If I think you will go to that Hell of a town I'm not going anywhere and staying here to make sure you don't," Eric threatened stubbornly, swallowing Godric in his shadow as he towered over him.
Godric raised an eyebrow at the threat and wondered how many times Eric used his size to intimidate people enough to do his bidding. It must drive Eric crazy that it did not work on Godric. He was curious about this maenad, but not curious enough to risk Eric's life. If Eric did not go to see the Queen, he could not get her protection.
"I will stay away from Bon Temps," Godric sighed, because Eric's safety was always his first priority. He looked at his child’s chin instead of into his blue eyes. "I will not leave Shreveport."
Eric did not know if Godric’s staying in Shreveport was safe either, but he was done arguing. He did not know whether or not to believe his maker, and he hated this distrust between them. This was supposed to be a new beginning for them, a second chance. Eric glared at his maker, into eyes that were avoiding his before turning away harshly and left the room.
Godric was after him in a flash, moving too fast for humans – and most vampires – to see. One second he was in the room staring after Eric, the next he was right in front of him. "Do not leave here angry with me," Godric instructed.
"I can leave however I want," Eric informed him defiantly, wondering why he even cared. Godric laid a hand lightly on Eric's chest, not meaning to stop him from leaving but to get his attention.
"Of course, you can," Godric said quietly. "I would just feel better if you did not."
This was more like old times. Perhaps they would not have a new beginning after all, perhaps they would just both slip back into their old ways. Eric crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring his maker's hand.
"And I would feel better if you did not lie to me," the Viking shot back at him.
Godric's eyes snapped to Eric's. "I did not lie to you, I would not lie to you," he growled, letting his hand drop. He turned away from Eric as if all the energy had been drained out of him. He did not want to argue anymore. A thousand years of arguing was far more than enough. "Go to your Queen. I will find you when you get back.”
Will you? Eric asked that question only in his mind. He saw the fatigue weighing down his maker and he knew it was his own fault for making Godric more stressed than he needed to be. Without another word, Eric turned to take his leave.
Godric watched his child go. For several minutes, he stared out the window, before he finally left as well. He walked down the stairs and out the door, sticking to the shadows and moving as quietly as a ghost. He would explore Shreveport until Eric got back. It would help him keep his mind off of things.
“You should have seen his face, Bill. I’ve never seen Eric look at anyone like that. I didn’t even know he could look at anyone like that,” Sookie told her vampire boyfriend. It was too close to dawn for them to leave for Lafeyette’s, so they were staying the night at Bill’s. Jessica was already in her safe sleeping place under the floorboards and Hoyt had decided to take his mother home. Now it was just the two of them, and Sookie finally had a chance to talk to Bill about what had transpired on the rooftop.
“Eric really loves Godric,” she repeated for about the hundredth time. Bill was quickly growing tired of hearing about Eric Northman. He was hoping it was just a side effect from Sookie sampling his blood. Bill prayed it would pass soon, but knew it would not.
“Godric is his maker, I’m sure what you saw was just devotion,” he responded. He loved Sookie, but he still was not entirely comfortable talking with her about vampire business, especially if it concerned Eric.
“No, you certainly didn’t look at Lorena that way… Do all vampires in that kind of relationship have sex?” she asked, curious about the sire/child relationship and she watched her lover shift uncomfortably. “They do ,don’t they?! So that means Eric and Godric…” She let her voice trail off. She didn’t know why that fascinated her so much. Eric seemed like such a monster sometimes, but she had finally seen what lay beneath.
“I will leave tomorrow night to find more information on the maenad,” Bill said, trying to change the subject. “I might know a way to kill her.”
It was not until the next night that Eric was freed from Sophie Anne’s lavish palace. The queen was intelligent and she planned her time well, even when it seemed no one could be more careless with it. Eric knew once he arrived, it would be the regular routine. He would have to play a game of Yahtzee, soak in the pool, and beat around the bush for hours before he got a response from her. The more he stressed the importance of his visit, the longer it took for her to accept her responsibility as queen and protect her kind.
Yet, as old as Eric was, he was still her Sherriff and he still could not argue with her. The queen laughed in amusement upon hearing about Eric’s reunion with Godric. After many inappropriate questions and comments, they played the last game of Yahtzee and the queen yawned dramatically, stretching her arms above her head and insisted that the Sherriff stay the day. As if he had a choice.
Luckily, the queen had finally told her people to investigate the man with the broken arm and to bring the king to her immediately. She waited until the first rays of the sun shone above the horizon before showing Eric into a guest room, and not without offering a male or female 'blood donor'. Eric declined, not having much of an appetite, which for him was very rare. Yet he did not want one of her human slaves or pets.
That next night, Eric snuck out of the palace, satisfied that the queen would take control. She had sent many of her own out to retrieve the king and bring him back to her to talk face-to-face. Eric could believe that such an ordeal was punishment enough, but when it really came down to it, Eric still wanted to drain the bastard dry. He wanted the king’s fangs ripped out. He wanted revenge over what he did to his maker – more than he could get tattling to his queen.
Finally back at his apartment with the loud music of his bar thundering underneath him, Eric collapsed on his bed and ignored Pam's questions. He felt very weary of it all.
Godric had spent much of his time people-watching, which was becoming more and more enjoyable. Human interactions fascinated him, especially in this particular day and age. The oldest vampire may say that the key to a long existence was learning to blend in, to adapt and change with the world around him. Yet for Godric, having the face of a teenager gave him a disadvantage, and he always felt he had to prove himself, even more than others.
As the sun began to rise on that first night, Godric dug a hole in dirt of the forest outside of town and slept there in perfect comfort. The next night, he woke and felt Eric closer. He dug himself out of his shallow grave and tried to shake as much dirt out of his hair and clothes as he could before he made his way to his child’s apartment. He found Eric collapsed on the bed, and doubts about what might have kept his child began to surface. Godric had met Sophie Anne once at her coronation and did not have high hopes for her as a good ruler.
He climbed soundlessly into the bed beside Eric even though he was still filthy from the ground. He still wore the only set of clothes he had with him, which he realized now was probably ruined. He had never cared about clothing, however, preferring not to wear anything at all.
"You took longer than I thought you would," Godric spoke quietly.
Eric opened his eyes when Godric slipped into bed beside him, and he turned to face him. There was no anger, no resentment, only respect, love, and adoration in his eyes. "You're all dirty. You deserve more than the ground. I don't think you should sleep anywhere else but this bed from now on," he whispered, and reached to swipe dirt off his maker’s forehead with a grin.
"I like sleeping in the ground. It reminds me of simpler times. I remember you did not mind it so much, either," Godric responded, closing his grey eyes and relaxing under Eric's touch. He had missed being close to Eric during their brief time apart. He had wanted Eric with him in his grave. "Did the queen want you in her bed last night? Is that why you were late?" he asked in a completely neutral tone.
Eric responded with a confused look. He had gone to see the queen to do Godric's own dirty work, there was no such thing as being 'late' when one was a vampire with all eternity in his hands. Was this jealousy he detected from his maker? "I was ‘late’ because the bitch would not agree to do her job until the sun was almost up," he explained to Godric honestly. "As usual, I humored her.” Eric decided to change the subject, and turned his attention to his maker's dirty clothes. He smirked and fidgeted with the buttons. "You need new clothes, and I'm afraid I don't have anything in your size."
Godric frowned, not liking where this line of thinking was going. "You want to take me shopping, don't you?" he said in a mock-defeated tone.
Eric grinned. "No. I think you should just wear nothing but mud," he whispered, and his hands boldly became more productive as they began to toy with the thought of unbuttoning Godric’s tunic, silently asking permission.
"I like mud... shopping, not so much.” Allowing Eric a little bit of control, Godric lay back and let his child divest him of his shirt. He lifted his body to allow the sleeves to be removed until he was left in nothing but his loose-fitting pants. Eric grinned and took his time peeling the layers off his maker as if he were unwrapping a present. With each inch of skin he uncovered he bestowed a simple kiss until finally he balled up the muddy tunic and cast it to the floor to be forgotten.
Encouraged, Eric shifted even closer so that he lay half on top of Godric’s smaller body. Blindly, Eric grabbed the covers from the bed and covered them both with a blanket of warmth and comfort before grazing Godric’s shoulder with kisses. Finally, a hand travelled down from Godric’s chest to his pants, making a slow move to dive inside.
Godric went to grab Eric's wandering hand, but gripped the sheets instead, allowing Eric to do what he wished. Yet he tensed all over, not having been touched like this in so long. It was hard to make himself relax.
Eric had braced himself to recoil, expecting another growl or a shove from his maker, but was shocked to see Godric stop himself this time. The older vampire was clearly nervous and shifting uncomfortably under the Viking; only Eric's fingertips were hinting underneath the band of his briefs. Eric knew that if Godric really did not want this, he would have stopped him. He would not be giving Eric this control.
Eric rested his forehead on the pillow while his hand finally dove beneath Godric’s waistband – slowly, hesitantly, and secretly – as if he were waiting at any moment for Godric to lash out at him. His hand sought out Godric's semi-hard arousal and gripped it firmly. Slowly, he massaged it without stroking, rubbing the tip and squeezing the base.
"We don't have to do anything. I just want to touch you. That's all I want... just to touch you," Eric whispered.
Godric gasped when Eric touched him, his body arching into the touch without his permission. His fangs descended and he became fully hard under Eric's touch. His hands flew from where they had been gripping the sheets to the expanse of Eric's back, pulling his body closer so there was barely any room for Eric to work.
Eric's own body immediately responded, his cock hard but restrained in his jeans. Slowly, his hand squeezed and stroked and rubbed. He wished he could see his lover completely naked, but was more than content just to blindly feel him. His own fangs descended with a snap as he kissed along Godric’s jaw line.
Godric was having a difficult time remembering that he no longer needed to breathe as Eric worked him with his hand, and he turned his head to catch Eric’s lips in a kiss. His own hand sneaked down his child’s body, wanting to give Eric the same pleasure. His fumbled with Eric's jeans, and unable to work around the button and zipper, Godric ended up simply ripping the pants open and wrapped his small hand around Eric's cock.
Pants ruined, Eric hardly cared enough to notice. All he knew was that the bulge that was begging, screaming for attention, was finally in the hand of his lover. He moaned enthusiastically, remembering all over again the unique feel of his maker's hand working him. Godric’s hand knew him well, it knew what Eric liked, and it was as if the years apart had not made an impression on either of them at all. Eric had determined long ago that being close with Godric was like being in religious ecstasy. His maker was his one and only God, his worshipped idol, unlike any other had been during his lifetime and beyond.
Eric channelled all his sexual aggression into a fierce kiss with his tongue and lips and fanged teeth. A moan caused both their bodies to vibrate as his hand worked his maker faster and rougher. Godric pulled away to rest his head against Eric's. He knew he would not last much longer, but he wanted Eric to come first, to feel his hot seed spill onto his skin.
"I want you to come," Godric ordered in a husky voice as he tried to hold himself off.
With any other lover in his bed, it would take Eric much longer to finish, if he did at all. Yet he knew from the past, that Godric could take him from soft to coming in a matter of minutes, just from a word. The boy was in his blood and owned him, body and spirit, and when Godric commanded, Eric was hopeless to protest.
Eric thrust his hips hard into Godric's hand and spilled out onto Godric's chest, shooting semen as far as his maker's chin. The Viking let out a loud moan as he continued to thrust into Godric’s come-covered hand, riding out his orgasm and stroking his lover hard, wanting to bring him with him.
Feeling Eric come, Godric could no longer hold onto his control and he came hard with a gasp. He arched his back into Eric before collapsing back bonelessly onto the bed. He wrapped his arms around Eric and pulled him into a long, lazy kiss.
Eric slipped off of Godric’s sticky chest to lie on his side, never detaching himself from the heated, fanged kiss. He wished his maker's fangs could always be extended, even if they did intimidate him on rare occasions. The beautiful gasp Godric had had emitted when he had come was still ringing in Eric’s ears.
When Eric pulled away from the kiss, the sight of his maker was more overwhelmingly beautiful than he could ever have anticipated. Godric's stoic expression was replaced by one of passion and love and raw emotion, and his body was relaxed with satisfaction. The Viking stared unashamedly.
Godric blinked slowly as he came down from his orgasm. It was a few minutes before he was able to talk and he smiled lazily back and Eric. "And what are you looking at?"
"You," Eric grinned, his head still heavy on his pillow as they lay facing each other, so close their sticky chests were aligned. It had been so long since they had lain together like this, basking in the afterglow. "You got my bed all sticky and muddy... just like old times," Eric teased, his eyes only half open as they continued to stare at every inch of his maker's skin that was visible to him.
"Hmmm," Godric purred, reaching to cup Eric's face. "You don't mind." He nipped at Eric's lower lip with his fangs, enough to draw blood, and moaned at the taste. Eric deepened the kiss to willingly give him every spilt drop. Once their kiss ran dry, he sliced his tongue on his maker's fangs until the blood flowed anew from the corners of their conjoined mouths. Godric growled, the sound coming from deep within his chest, as he sucked on Eric's tongue. He finally pulled away, his own lips bloody.
"You always taste so good," Godric whispered, squirming even closer to Eric's body. The growl excited Eric, as it always did. There were times in their past when sometimes he would push Godric too far just to hear that low, animalistic, dangerous rumble of thunder in his maker’s throat.
Eric made quick work of licking his lover's lips clean, but it was simply not enough. Tasting himself only sparked his hunger for his maker's blood and he became desperate to taste Godric, even if it meant offering him every last drop of himself.
"It's all for you," Eric told him. And with that, he pushed his limits and tested his maker by latching onto his neck, echoing the hungry growl, but not yet biting down. Godric promptly grabbed a hold of Eric's hair and yanked him back so that he could look in his eyes.
"Did I give you permission?" He asked sternly, though secretly, he was amused by his child’s brashness as usual.
Eric snarled but made no further move to try again. He was challenging Godric, and the hunger was making him bold. "I don't need you to give me permission if I know you want it," he answered.
Godric raised an eyebrow and let go of Eric's hair. He flipped Eric so that he was on top of him, and in one quick motion, bit into Eric's neck possessively. He only took a few swallows of blood before pulling away and looking down at his child.
"You belong to me," he hissed. "I think you have forgotten that."
Eric immediately submitted, his body going limp – except for his cock which had begun to harden again under Godric's aggressive display of dominance and the blood-play. His neck was throbbing with pleasure and with pain and he smirked to himself, knowing that Godric always had a way of making punishment feel so good. His maker had not been gentle with his mark of ownership.
"Yes... yes..." Eric whispered, bowing his head against Godric's tattooed chest. "I belong to you...”
"Good boy," Godric whispered, licking at the wounds which were closing on Eric’s neck. He heard two sets of footsteps coming towards Eric's apartment door, and he groaned and rested his head in the crook of Eric's neck. "Your child and another young vampire approaches," he warned Eric. He could hear Pam mumbling something about it being Eric's turn to entertain the ‘blood bags’.
At the mention of the others, Eric sighed deeply, feeling their presence now that his maker was not the only thing filling his senses. He kissed Godric chastely on the lips before reluctantly slipping out from underneath him and making his way to his door, barely remembering to tuck himself into his torn jeans as best he could.
"What?!" he demanded.
"You’re supposed to make an appearance at the bar tonight. We are opening in an hour," Pam told him, taking in his rumpled appearance with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.
Godric had fixed his pants in time, but did not bother with his shirt as he sat up on the bed.
Eric rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "Fine. Make sure the place is clean, get that useless blonde human to do her job, and wait for me. Glamour her if you have to," he ordered, and shut the door without giving them a chance to argue.
It took Godric an hour and a half to work up the nerve to enter the bar. He showered, slipped on a pair of dark jeans and a white button-down shirt that Eric had picked out for him.
Fangtasia was like many other clubs in that it was dark and loud. Godric naturally liked the darkness, but the loud music was nothing but a deterrent. The patrons were a mix of tourists, fang-bangers, and just a enough ‘authentic’ vampires to attract their attention. Almost all of the vampires were younger than Pam, so few were able to recognize the power that rolled off of Godric in waves, even when he tried to hold it back to blend in.
His eyes quickly found Eric and he smiled at the sight of his child, sprawled out on his throne, looking cocky and untouchable for his audience. There were several booths situated strategically in dark corners and Godric took one of them, wanting to people-watch without being noticed.
Eric watched Godric float through the room, seeming out of place. He was a god among mere mortals here, and not one of the idiots knew. Not one of them had any idea who they were in the presence of, none but Eric. He was surprised, however, when Godric choose a desolate corner to hide in the darkness. The Viking could not stand for that, and was by his maker’s side in a blink of a human eye, weaving around the crowd.
"What are you doing? Come sit with me. No one will bother you." He held out his hand to his maker.
Eric was like the sun in the darkness. All eyes turned towards him, and it made it harder for Godric to blend into the shadows where he belonged. Godric took his hand anyway, because perhaps it was time to come out of the darkness.
Eric brought Godric to a chair beside him. "You don't have to stay down here. You just wanted to see my bar. Embarrassing, isn't it? But you wouldn't believe the profit it brings us," he shruged as he surveyed his crowd.
"It is very odd," Godric admitted. To him, it took the fun out of the hunt when the prey was begging for it. "You would not think humans would want to be in a place full of us, and yet here they are."
Eric laughed. "They are all pathetic idiots... and believe it or not, I think our kind has gotten stupider as well. There is a sort of auction now, where a vampire will pay a human a thousand dollars to let him bite them. And the humans give it up willingly." His voice carried a bit of disgust.
Godric observed the patrons quietly for a few minutes, and noticed that everyone wanted Eric, to one extent or another. "Have you ever had any of them in your bed?" he asked, his voice neutral as he continued to survey the bar.
Eric laughed outright. "Any of these? No. Eric Northman doesn't exactly sleep with just anyone, especially drunken humans that stumble into Fangtasia," he told Godric. Sure, he took blood from particular mortals that caught his fancy. He still preferred human blood to that fake, bottled crap that Bill seemed to be way too well-adjusted to.
"So who does Eric Northman take into his bed?" Godric asked as he stared at a vampire who was dancing along to the beat of the music, obviously showing off for the humans.
Eric let one side of his lips curl up in a smirk. He stared at the same ridiculous vampire and wished he would trip. "Hmm, I don't know. I have a thing for fifteen-year-old boys wearing tight jeans and tattoos with a jealous attitude. I think it's a sickness," he teased.
"I am not jealous," Godric denied. He told himself that perhaps he was just greedy, not wanting anyone else to have Eric. There were times in their past when he had actually encouraged Eric to take other lovers. "And I was almost sixteen," he added defensively, as if it made that much of a significant difference.
Eric snickered. Maybe Godric's behavior was not jealousy, but part of Eric hoped that it was. "You didn't used to be jealous. As I recall, there was a time when you were practically giving me away." He did not expect that statement to come out so angry, but it had. Perhaps Eric did still resent his maker for all the times he gave him to other lovers without hesitation. It had always been as if Godric was tired of his child and handed him off just so he would not have to take care of him. At the time, Eric would always refuse these lovers, sometimes even killing them in his anger. He would come back to Godric with another story, however, flushed and boasting in an attempt and make his maker jealous. Time and time again, it never worked, much to Eric's frustration. “I hated it," he glared straight ahead as he added.
Godric finally turned to look at Eric. He finally put his hand on his to get his attention. "I recognized that you had more of a sexual need as a young one than I did. I did not want you to think that you could not find other's company pleasurable. I was not giving you away. I thought it was better for you to have other companions besides myself."
Eric continued to stare straight ahead into the crowd, but he did not take his hand from Godric’s. "Bullshit. You have just as much need as I do. How many times would I wake up at night with your hand down my pants?" Eric challenged him, refusing to believe it was true, and refusing to believe that Godric wanted him less than he wanted Godric. "And you weren’t even a little bit upset to send me off with another? I didn't sleep with half the others you let me run off with," he confessed. "What would you think now if I ran off to seduce any one of these mortals or vampires now… would you still think it was 'for the best'?"
"I did not receive any joy by sending you to other lovers," Godric said. Honestly, it had killed him to do so. "I did not realize how much you hated it. I just wanted you to know that you always had a choice, one that was never given to me. If you were to seduce someone tonight I would not stop you, but I would not be happy about it, either."
Eric snapped his hand away. Godric looked at Eric sadly for a few moments before deciding it was probably best to let the matter drop. He put his hands in his lap as he watched the crowd. It was a melting pot of supernatural and natural beings, and both species were attempting to find the best way to use each other. It made him feel sick inside. He could feel Eric practically vibrating with anger beside him, and that hurt more than anything else.
Eric did not want to fight with his maker so early on in their reunion, but so many things were resurfacing, things that should have remained swept up under the rug of the subconscious. Eric rose from his chair and whispered something to Pam. She nodded and her maker walked away, out of the club.
Without Eric there, Godric determined that there was no reason for him to stay in the bar. He did not know if he should give Eric apt time to cool down or if he should confront him now. Considering Eric's temper, he decided that waiting could not hurt, and headed back to his child’s apartment.
Eric walked out of his bar and into the crowd of aggravated, impatient mortals that did not make it into the bar. It was not hard to pick one up, it was not hard to drag them off into the shadows, and it certainly was not hard to drink his fill of him.
Godric could swear he still felt Eric's anger even with the physical distance between them now. Since they shared blood, the bond seemed to strengthen anew and deepen. Godric sat down on the couch in Eric's living room and closed his eyes, attempting to calm the anger that was not his own. He tried to send sensations of love and comfort back to Eric to calm him.
Pam quietly walked into Eric's apartment to find the boy vampire seated on the couch, his body relaxed in meditation. Pam mused to herself how Godric made everything he sat on look like a throne. She bowed on one knee in front of the seated older vampire and kept her head down in respect. "Godric... I hope you will excuse my intrusion," she asked politely. "Eric wanted me to watch over you. Somehow, I think he underestimates you. You hardly need a babysitter." She lifted her head with a respectful smile, clearly impressed with being in the presence of someone such as Godric.
"Eric's always been a bit over-protective when it comes to me," he explained while returning the smile. "I have to admit, I have been very curious about you, Pamela," he said, and gestured for her to take a seat in the armchair in front of him. "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"
Pam took the proffered seat. "I can tell that you two belong to each other. He is my maker, and a good one, but I've never seen him act the way he does with anyone but you. And I am very close to him." She laughed softly. "I just hope you feel welcome here. It is nice to have someone keep Eric in check for once. Especially with all that is going on. What did the queen say of our intruder?"
"She assured Eric that it would be taken care of, but there are always politics that get in the way and I doubt she will actually be able to do much besides fine the King of Texas," Godric said looking down at the coffee table in front of him instead of at the younger vampire before he changed the subject. "You have been Eric’s child for awhile now. Has he seemed to be doing well over the years?"
Pam furrowed her brow in confusion. "Lately he has been very distraught, but that was only because you went missing. I thought he was going to lose it for a while... I’ve never seen him so upset, and I didn’t understand it until now," she told Godric truthfully.
He could only nod. Pam quietly studied Godric while the boy's eyes were downcast. They were interrupted soon after when Eric walked into the apartment.
"Speak of the devil," Pam mused.
"I thought I told you to watch over the club," Eric immediately told Pam, although he knew from the past that his child tended get bored easily and wander. She was never one to stay on a task until it was done.
Pam rolled her eyes and stood, knowing that was her cue to leave. "Relax. Chow and that stupid human are doing all the dirty work," she sighed. She turned to Godric and bowed respectfully before saying, "If you'll excuse me," and waiting for the older vampire's nod to leave.
After Pam was gone, Eric did not acknowledge his maker's presence with quite the same respect his own child had. He had spent the night making sure he reeked of other humans, without having done anything other than drink their blood. He walked past Godric and flopped down on his bed in fake exhaustion.
In the past, Godric would have ignored Eric's childish behavior. He knew from experience that ignoring Eric would be more of a punishment than anything else he could bestow on him. "Should I expect this every night?" Godric asked, walking into the bedroom and leaning against the door frame.
Eric glared at the ceiling and kicked off his shoes. "Expect what?" he asked. He sat up and removed his jacket, then collapsed back again. "That I will be tired after working? It happens often.”
Godric took a few steps further into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He took Eric's feet in his hands so that he could pull his socks off for him. "I was referring to you storming out and coming home smelling of more humans than you could have possibly have had," Godric told him. "Go take a shower. I am not sleeping with you smelling like this.”
If it were anyone else’s hands pulling off his socks, they would have gotten a few kicks. "You insisted you didn't care," Eric accused him, but before his maker could reply, he had already shut himself in the bathroom.
One long, hot shower later, Eric slipped on a pair of sweatpants and shook out his wet, blond hair before he walked back into his bedroom. Godric was still in the same spot on the bed, and he inhaled the air, no longer smelling the human buffet on his child. He knew their argument was far from over, however. Over two thousand years of knowledge and experience, and he still felt like he was on uneven ground when it came to his one and only child.
"I never said that I did not care, I just meant that I would not force you not to be with anyone else because of me. I do care if you are with someone else. I care a lot," he admitted.
Eric slumped down on the bed on top of the covers and closed his eyes. Perhaps Godric was not planning on staying with him, and he was saying all this to make sure Eric knew he had other options. Maybe he did not want Eric's loyalty. All these fears crowded Eric's mind and only further fuelled his frustration. He would much rather Godric command him to be monogamous than tell him he was allowed to be with others. At least then he would know his maker loved him as fiercely as Eric loved him.
Godric crawled up the bed and lay down beside Eric. He ran his fingers through Eric’s hair as he had done a thousand times before. "Is this what they call the 'silent treatment'? I do not believe I have ever had anyone do it to me before, besides you, Child," he said.
"You don't feel anything. You never did," Eric snarled at him, although he really did not know what he meant by that. He allowed Godric's hands to thread through his wet hair but he did not open his eyes.
Godric's hand stopped. He thought about the morning on the rooftop, where he was desperate to feel something after feeling only nothing for so long. What he did not realize was that it was not the sun, but Eric's tears that made him feel alive again.
"I feel for you, and only you. You must know I love you," he told his child, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I know," Eric answered him, but his tone was not forgiving.
"You know, but you would rather I order you around like some sort of puppet?" Godric asked. "I know how some makers treat their progeny and I have seen how it breaks their spirits. I made you because I admired your spirit and would have done anything to protect it," he explained as his hand went back to petting Eric’s hair. "I thought you would grow to resent me if I ordered you only to be with me. But the truth is, Eric, no matter who you are with, you are mine. I made you, and my blood flows through your veins, and that is not something that can ever be undone. We are more than companions and more than maker and child. We are lovers, or at least we used to be. Have you forgotten?" He asked, and Eric’s head shook ‘no’ under his maker’s petting.
It was hard for Eric to stay angry with Godric, especially when he was trying to provoke his maker into anger but could not so much as change his expression. "I didn't sleep with anyone tonight," Eric admitted suddenly. "And I'm sorry I accused you of being stoic. I know you are not."
It was a relief to Godric to know that Eric had not slept with another. "I try not to seem emotionless around you," Godric whispered, and let his hand move down to rest on Eric’s broad chest, and suddenly, Eric knew the time had come to change the subject.
"I'll have to buy you pajama pants." Eric grinned after his random comment.
"Pajama pants? I thought you did not believe in such things." Godric grinned back playfully. He thought the jeans Eric had picked out for him were far too tight, but Eric seemed to appreciate them, so that made it worth the hassle. At least for a few hours.
"But you would look so cute in them," Eric teased, and braced himself for what he knew would come.
Godric was on top of him and his hands pinned down beside his head before the other vampire could blink. "Did I not warn you about using that word?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly, trying to resist the smile tugging at his lips.
"You're so cute when you get mad." Eric further provoked Godric fearlessly, loving feeling the strength pinning him down. "Especially when you deny it. It makes you even cuter."
"Eric," Godric said in his 'I-am-your-maker-therefore-I-know-better-than-you’ tone. "I am over two thousand years old. I am powerful, frightening, terrifying... but definitely not cute. Cute is for puppies and kittens and I am certainly not either of those things."
Eric continued to ignore him and grinned deviously. "Come on, your jeans are tight and you want to get out of them.”
Godric narrowed his eyes. "You are such a bad child; I should punish you," he threatened, leaning down to nip at Eric's earlobe.
Eric loved Godric's playfulness and the life that it brought to him. "You have such a cute ass," he grinned, and braced himself as if he were going to be ripped to shreds. "Yes... please, do punish me if you must."
"It would not be a punishment if you like it," Godric grinned, letting go of Eric's hands so that he could divest himself and his child of their shirts. He kissed a line down Eric's naked chest and sucked on a nipple before pulling away and grinning teasingly down at the man underneath him.
Upon their sudden freedom, Eric immediately let his hands roam all over Godric's body. They smoothed down his chest to his torso, and finally to his thighs. "This is punishment..." Eric said out loud. He was hard already under the confines of his jeans, and his head was still spinning from the blood of many willing mortals.
"Good," Godric smirked, his fangs sharp and extended. The jeans he wore were now uncomfortably tight as he leaned down to kiss his child’s lips. The Viking's strong, broad hands roamed over Godric’s chest and he nipped boldly at the soft lips not quite hard enough to draw blood.
"Please..." He whispered against Godric’s lips, his hands working to unbutton his maker's jeans. He did not know what he was pleading for, but he wanted it desperately.
Godric rolled off of Eric so that he could get his tight jeans undone and wiggle out of them, a task which proved to be harder than it looked. He cursed in frustration in their ancient language, and stopped himself from tearing them off. He looked at Eric, who was holding back a laugh. “I know you enjoy watching me fumble around, but you need to help me,” he ordered his child.
Eric shifted so he lay half on top of his maker and gently pushed Godric's smaller, frustrated hands away to unbutton and unzip. "Gladly."
After effortlessly slipping off the jeans and casting them to the floor, Eric stared down at Godric unashamedly, his fangs throbbing. Along with buying Godric new jeans, he also got him tight boxer briefs. "You can't tell me these aren’t comfortable," He teased, playing idly with the elastic banding.
"They are not, and I would rather not be wearing anything underneath at all. Undergarments are pointless," he said. "And why am I the only one in pointless under clothes?"
Eric chuckled and got the point. Leaning down to lay a kiss on Godric’s lips, he unbuttoned his own jeans and threw them a to the floor alongside Godric's. "I prefer you don't wear anything underneath as well. And I didn't think you wanted me to strip you down completely."
Godric was suddenly unsure of what he wanted. He knew he wanted Eric, his body seemed to scream for him, but he knew he was not mentally prepared. "I am not sure," he answered his child honestly.
Still half on top of Godric, Eric could not bear to pull himself away. "I need you. If we can't be together than don't tempt me, I can't stand it," he admitted to his maker. "I've waited so long to have you back."
"I know," Godric whispered quietly before coming to a quick decision. He pushed Eric onto his back and settled between his thighs, before letting his hand sneak down to cup Eric’s need in his palm. "Can I kiss you...here?" he asked, giving Eric a gentle squeeze.
Eric tried to conceal the shock and arousal that had overwhelmed him. He could count on his fingers the number of times Godric had got down on his knees for him, not to mention recall with great detail each and every one of those times. Eric stared down at his maker with a mixture of adoration and lust, frustration and a little bit of confusion.
"Only if you want to," Eric whispered.
"I want to," Godric whispered back, kissing down Eric's chest until he reached the waist band of his boxers. He slowly pulled them down and off of Eric so they would not be in the way, and made himself comfortable between Eric's thighs. Reminding himself to be mindful of his fangs, Godric licked Eric from base to head before sucking on the tip and running his tongue over the slit.
Eric nearly fainted. "I don't know why you didn't kiss me there more often in our- Ah!" Eric arched his back when he felt Godric's skilled tongue slide up his cock and gasped involuntarily in a very human manner."…our past..."
"If I would have known this would get you to shut up, I would have done it more often," Godric teased in between licks, and Eric could only gasp and arch his back against Godric as he worked him. All train of thought and speech halted to a stop when Godric practically swallowed him whole, and Eric bucked into his mouth before quickly stilling his hips after he realized what he had done.
Not having to breathe defiantly had its advantages, especially with an enthusiastic lover, Godric mused to himself. Godric would not have minded if Eric had continued to thrust into his mouth, but he wanted to draw this out as long as he could. He laid a hand across Eric's hips to keep him still as he continued to swallow him down, setting a steady pace, moaning at the taste of his lover in his mouth.
Eric's shaking hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it wound its way into his lover's hair and he began to thrust into Godric’s mouth. Of course, Eric had done this with others, both vampire and human, male and female, but having Godric’s mouth swallow him whole was beyond anything he had ever experienced.
Godric batted Eric's hand off his head and growled before nicking the tip of Eric's cock with his fang. He pulled his mouth away to watch the blood well up. "Behave, or I'll bite it off, and I'm not sure if vampires can grow this part of their anatomy back."
Eric yelped in both pain and pleasure and both hands immediately fell palm-down onto the black satin sheets. Instead of submitting and apologizing profusely, a wide grin spread across his face and his eyes darkened with lust. Godric shook his head at his unrepentant child and licked the blood off Eric's cock, moaning at the taste. "You are such a brat," he told Eric simply before he went back to work on his cock, this time picking up the pace to bring him off.
Eric gasped as he felt Godric’s fang teasing a begging vein up his shaft. "I'm gonna... oh, fuck..." He panicked, his hips wiggling underneath Godric's fast-working mouth, straining against his inability to move and fast-dissolving willpower. Eric did not want it to end so fast. Clenching his fanged teeth, he held it back desperately.
Godric suddenly slowed down his pace before stopping completely, and lifted himself up to lie down on his child so his erection pressed into Eric's. He had to force himself not to just tear off his own underwear and impale himself on Eric's length, instead grinding their erections together as if there was nothing between them.
Eric nearly came just from Godric changing their positions, feeling their needy hardness rubbing against one another. He was so close that even letting himself go for a second would have him spilling out against his maker’s chest, so he resisted it, painfully, just to draw out this moment and watch Godric grind down on his cock.
"You're so beautiful..." Eric whispered, euphoric and delirious from the sensation. His hands found their way to the curve of Godric's ass and he thrust his hips hard against Godric’s in return.
Godric growled as Eric thrust back against him. He buried his face in Eric's neck as he felt his own orgasm approaching. He let his fangs slide across the white expanse of Eric's neck, lightly teasing as he thrust against Eric at a vampiric speed.
Instinctively, Eric bore his own fangs and growled deeply as his hands clenched harder on Godric's flesh. Eric opened his mouth to cry out but all he could scream was silence as his eyes rolled back of his head and he shot his seed high onto Godric's body. Eric bit his lip and tasted blood.
When Eric came, Godric allowed himself to let go and sank his fangs deep into Eric's neck, not drinking, but marking what was his as he came, then slumped down onto Eric's spent body. He pulled his fangs from the wound and licked it clean, careful not to let any blood go to waste.
"I love you," Godric mumbled against Eric's neck, too sated to move.
The younger vampire moaned at the sharp mark of ownership and continued to rock his hips against Godric as he rode out his orgasm. He ran his hand down his sticky chest to the wet spot on Godric’s underwear, feeling him there.
"You can't stay in them now. Take them off now that you've relieved me so well..." Eric smiled deliriously. "I'm keeping them," he decided, tugging at the useless piece of fabric.
Godric chuckled against Eric's neck. "Do I even want to know why you want to keep them?" he asked, but sat up and slipped them off anyway before laying them on top of Eric's chest. Eric snatched them up greedily and stuffed them into the bedside table drawer with a satisfied grin. He had waited so long to see Godric naked again, truly naked, just as he remembered him.
"Mmmm, I don't think you want to know. It's too much for your young, virgin ears to hear," he teased gently.
"I think I can imagine," Godric mused, and grinned as he fondly reached up to ruffle Eric's blond hair, causing it to stick straight up in some places. "And I think my ears are way past virgin," he added. Of course, his body would remain virgin-tight forever, because that was how his own maker had made him.
Eric gazed drowsily up into his lover's grey eyes. His hands wandered over the nakedness of his thighs and over his softening cock, memorizing the feel of him all over again. "How many others have you had?" He asked suddenly and curiously, knowing Godric would know what he meant.
Godric closed his eyes and relaxed as Eric's hands explored him, but opened them when Eric spoke. "The older I become, the more I lose interest in sex, except in concerns with you. I have not had any lovers since I left you. I had no need for them."
"You've gone that long without having a lover? And you are telling me you want to wait?" Eric teased him, bringing the black satin bed sheets up over both of them, his hands still lazily exploring his body.
"Is it really that difficult? For you to wait? Will you go out and take another lover while I am here?" Godric responded with faint curiosity.
Eric chuckled at the thought. Godric was his world, his deity, and there was nothing beyond him, including other lovers. "If I were going to take another, I would have done it tonight," he told Godric, hoping that would be enough of an answer. His hands wandered up to Godric's chest, tracing the ancient designs that were just as preserved as the rest of his body. "You never told me how you got all these," he wondered out loud, changing the subject.
Godric automatically tensed. He had never told another the details of his human life, including his child. He preferred to keep his past before Eric buried. Sometimes, he wished he could forget. "The ones on my back are the markings of my tribe. The others were given to me when the Romans conquered us," he told Eric with a sigh. Watching as invaders killed off his people and then being forced into slavery because he was a survivor was not something Godric enjoyed remembering often.
"Oh," was all Eric could say, surprised that he had even gotten that much. He knew it was a sensitive subject for Godric, and as much as he craved to know more, he knew better than to push and pull his maker into spilling more details. He knew he would learn, in time. Godric was very often Eric’s greatest lesson in patience.
Eric did not like the sudden distantness in Godric’s eyes and he immediately decided to change the subject again. He shifted onto his side and kissed his maker’s shoulder, his arm, his collarbone. "You smell good." He inhaled deeply.
Godric was pulled into the present by the feel of Eric's lips. "I smell like sex and blood; of course I smell good to you," he smiled. The change in subject reminded him of something else. "Why does Ms. Stackhouse have your blood?" he asked randomly, because he knew his child was up to something.
Eric's unbeating heart sank, and he closed his eyes as if the impact of the question had kicked him in the gut. "She's valuable to us. She's also an idiot. I have to keep check on her. She can read minds, and she has helped us out a lot in the past… though, never without a fight. She helped me find you," he explained.
"Humans are not things, Eric, they were not put before us for our disposal. I think you should leave the girl alone, she has enough problems of her own making without your own schemes," Godric said, in a way that made it very clear to Eric that he strongly disapproved.
"She's not my plaything. She is Bill's plaything," Eric corrected, but knowing that Godric would know better.
"You are still using her. If not sexually, then to make her work for you. And what right do you have to do that? Just because she is involved with your underling does not give you that right." Godric spoke gently, but Eric shrunk inwardly as if he were being chastised, even when Godric phrased his words as mere suggestions. Yet still, the deed was done, and she would be long past her mortal life by the time the blood bond between them thinned.
"Without her I couldn't have gotten you back in time. I want to be close to her to ensure I can do that again," Eric insisted.
Godric stared at Eric for a moment before he turned onto his other side and pulled the covers up over his shoulders, his back to his child. "If I wanted to meet the sun again, there would be nothing you or Ms. Stackhouse could do to stop me. Do not use me as an excuse to continue using that girl," he told the wall.
That did it for Eric. Godric knew him too well, and he knew exactly what to say to get Eric to give in and to break him. "Don't say that. If you went into the sun, I would follow you. I couldn't bear it," he told Godric honestly.
Godric sighed and reached behind him to take Eric's arm. He pulled him closer so that Eric's arm was now wrapped around his waist. "I will not do that," he reassured his child. He brought Eric’s hand up to his lips and kissed his knuckles. "I will not leave you again unless you ask me too."
Eric shifted so his chest was against Godric's back and he closed his eyes. "I won't ask you to," he promised effortlessly. "Why did you want to do it?"
"I was just very tired, and thinking selfishly," Godric admitted. When he had decided to turn himself over to the Fellowship, he had not thought of how Eric would feel. “Two thousand years seemed like… too much time.”
Eric wished Godric could need him as much as he needed Godric. For most of his vampiric life, he found himself starved for his maker's attention and it seemed things had not changed. "I can never have too much time with you," Eric whispered.
Godric squeezed Eric's hand tighter but had nothing to say otherwise. He loved Eric, he always had and he always would, but Eric did not need him anymore. He felt as if his existence was pointless. Eric could still feel the unrest inside his maker, and felt utterly helpless to mend him.
Eric lifted his head and asked gently, "Do you still want to die? Do you hate me for keeping you alive?"
"I could never hate you, Eric," Godric told him quickly.
Eric leaned over him and searched his maker's eyes that had been avoiding his own. "Tell me what I can do to fix it," he begged.
Godric did not think there was any way to ‘fix it’, at least in the way that Eric meant. He looked up at Eric and cupped his face. "Just be yourself," he said. “Just continue doing everything you are doing.”
Eric forced himself to smile and made a joke of it as usual, something that had always gotten Godric to lighten up in the past. "What- annoying you? Rebel against everything you say and try to get into your pants every second we are alone together? Playing with humans?" he teased.
Godric had a little smile on his face when he said, "Well, you certainly keep me busy... The Gods must have been laughing the night I first set eyes on you."
“And what did you think when you first set eyes on me?" Eric smiled arrogantly. He knew Godric had watched him for some time before taking him, and had waited only for the right moment to make him his. He had been hand-picked.
"I thought you were a cocky bastard, and of course, I was right. You and your companions were sitting around the campfire, and you were telling stories of all the battles you had won and the women you had been with. It took a minute for me to realize you were trying to boost your companion’s morale with all your conquests. You amused me, so I decided not to attack and feed from your group just yet," Godric shared a grin with Eric. "It was the next night that you really caught my attention. I do not know if you remember, but one of your companions was talking to you and you hushed him because you thought you had heard something. The moment before, I had jumped to the ground from a tree, but it could not have been possible for your human ears to have heard me. And yet, I swear you looked right at me in the dark, before shrugging it off a moment later." Godric tucked Eric's hair behind his ear where it had fallen in his eyes. "It was the next week, when I saw you on the battlefield, that I fell in love. I had never seen anyone fight like you. When I saw you fall, I knew I could not let something so beautiful rot in the ground. You existed for another reason."
Eric felt his heart kick to life. "I wanted to kill you. I would have if I hadn’t been dying from the infection in my leg. You killed my companions," Eric accused him, but with a smirk across his lips and a glitter in his eye.
"Yes, well, I had no use for them, and I only had eyes for you," Godric rationalized. "And I gave you a choice. I knew it had to be your decision, and I would have let you die if that was what you had wanted.... But I am glad you chose to walk with Death. And now… a question for you: Why did you start calling me Godric?" He tilted his head with curiosity, and Eric looked at him, surprised.
"Well, I had to call you something," he shrugged. "Your name means 'strong God', or 'God ruler', depending on how you analyze it."
"When vampires came out of the coffin, as the modern phrase goes, we had to register ourselves with the government, not unlike having a human birth certificate so as to be able to get passports and bank accounts. They told me I had to have a last name,” Godric said to his child. “Can you guess what last name I decided to take?" He smiled. At the time, he had not even had to think twice before signing ‘Godric Northman’ on the dotted line as if that had been his name all along.
Eric knew, of course, and was warmed by the thought of his maker thinking of him even then, during their years of separation. "I couldn't have thought of a better last name myself," he teased. "Does this mean we're married?"
Godric laughed. It was a soft laugh that Eric would have sliced off his right arm to hear again in the past few years. "I am sure it can mean whatever you want it too."
Eric grinned and turned to pounce on Godric. He knew that his maker did not like being surprised, but that was why he did such things. "So you are my wife?" he joked.
Godric sighed as if he were dealing with an over-excited child. He wrapped his arms around Eric and spread his legs a little so that Eric had room between them, even though he should have been punishing him for jumping on him as if he were part of the bed. He was too lenient.
"I am definitely not your wife," Godric answered sternly, but his hands were gentle as they rubbed up and down Eric's back.
"Whatever you say," Eric chuckled, as if he had already decided that he was.
"But you would make an awful husband," Godric told him. He let his fingers trail down his child’s spine and enjoyed the way Eric shivered as he did so.
"I know," Eric admitted with a heavy sigh, and Godric chuckled. The sound was like a balm to Eric’s nerves, and he felt himself melt.
Godric could feel dawn approaching, and knew Eric would soon be unable to resist the pull of the sun, but he did not want this to end. Just lying here like this was comforting. "Go to sleep," he gently soothed his child, knowing he was trying to fight slumber. Eric nestled closer to Godric while his eyes closed and he sighed contently. Godric smiled and brought his hand up to run his fingers through Eric's hair as they drifted off together.
One thing Bill noticed about Godric was the permanent look of detachment on the older vampire’s face. The ancient boy never looked into Bill’s eyes for long, and he was glad of it. There was something frightening about the steadiness of Godric's haunting gaze, as if there were something wild and untamable just below the surface, held back only by willpower and wisdom. Godric had the body of a child, but the eyes of an elder that penetrated deeply into his soul. Bill found it all very disconcerting.
When Godric looked at Eric, however, it was as if everything inside his stone body softened. He looked more like the human boy he had once been. Bill knew that look was one borne of over a thousand years of love. If Lorena had ever looked at him the same way Godric looked at Eric, he could have had a very different life in death. Bill could see why Eric was so blindly devoted to his maker.
"That is all," Eric interrupted Sookie’s conversation with Godric with a strong, deep voice. "Pam will escort you out."
Bill nodded and took Sookie's arm as he led them back to the bar. Sookie looked back once as she was led away, looking as if she were about to say something but changed her mind. When they were out of hearing range Godric allowed himself to relax.
"She wants you," Godric stated simply, knowing his child would know what he meant. There were too many thoughts and feelings running through him then to do anything but stare at the closed door for a moment. "You want her too, on some level," he mused, his voice perfectly monotone even when his body was practically vibrating with suppressed emotion.
Eric had to laugh out loud. "Yes. Well, humans are weak to the blood. She will get over it," he shrugged it off.
"She's not human…at least, not completely," Godric said, his voice controlled. Inside, he felt as if he were going to snap. He had Eric slammed against the wall before the ancient vampire even knew what he himself was doing. "You are mine," he hissed through his fangs, "Say it!"
Only Eric would have been able to detect the tension in his maker's voice, the calm before the storm. Yet he still had not braced himself for the blow, and hit the wall hard. If he had still needed oxygen, he might have lost it then. This was the Godric he knew was dwelling deep down. Here was the feral, animalistic nature inside that he had fallen in love with. In his way, Godric was Eric's most intense adventure. He gave his maker a smirk that he knew would both turn him on and piss him off at the same time, and went back to his favorite subject.
"If she is not human, what the hell is she?" he challenged.
Godric let out a growl that would have sent a lion running in the opposite direction. As it was, all the patrons in the bar with vampiric hearing decided to do that very thing, their instincts telling them something very powerful was very pissed off.
"I will make you forget about the half-blood," Godric vowed through clenched fangs before he threw Eric on top of the desk. By the time he was on top of his child with his thighs straddling Eric’s hips, he had already ripped off his own clothing. He pulled Eric into a deep kiss while his other hand opened Eric's pants to fondle his hardening cock.
Eric felt his maker's growl vibrate through every inch of his body, setting him alive in a destructive mixture of lust and fear. His chest heaved and his eyes fell intensely on Godric's newly nude chest, his clothes having vanished in the blink of his eye. The second Godric’s hand captured his cock, hard and rough, as if that part of him belonged to Godric as well, Eric arched his back and his fanged mouth opened in a gasp.
Yet still, Eric did not give in, even though now, Sookie was the last thing on his mind. "Half-blood of what?" he asked curiously.
Godric snarled and fought the urge to lash out. Instead, he turned his urges in another direction. He lined up Eric's cock with his entrance, and in one swift, painful movement, embedded Eric's cock within him. He cried out with the sensation of being filled after so many years. He remained perfectly still for a moment, mouth slack, the tips of his fangs visible behind his lips as he gazed possessively into Eric's eyes.
Eric had been expecting more teasing, more mind games, and maybe Godric's hand to finish him off again. He did not expect to suddenly feel Godric impale himself onto his begging cock. The feeling of sudden completeness was overwhelming, as if they had both been holding their breath for years for precisely this moment. He could feel himself forced into his maker's eternally virginal body and the smell of blood set his senses aflame.
"I'm yours..." Eric admitted immediately, because there was no pretending anymore. He moaned loudly at the tightness that surrounded him, enveloped him, and consumed him completely. There was nothing sweeter in the world than his maker's own cry ringing in his ears.
"Mine," Godric echoed with his own moan, like a child claiming ownership over a toy. He lifted himself up and pushed back down, beginning a quick pace. There would be plenty of time later to make love slow and easy, but now, Godric wanted it hard and fast. He wanted to consummate their love as quickly as possible.
Eric had had intercourse with others since and even while being with Godric, but it never, ever compared to the feeling of being inside him. It had simply been too long. For far too long he had woken up only seconds after the sun went down, drenched in sweat and longing, only to feel the painful gap and impossible distance between them. There was no gap now; they had each other, and this time, neither was going to let go.
Eric's hands, desperate for something to cling to, found his maker's hips as they thrust against him. His own hips rose up to meet Godric’s, but in his clouded lust, could never be quick enough. Sweat glistened over his chest and he moaned involuntarily with each gyration of his maker's hips and every tight clench of his ass.
Godric angled his thrusts so that Eric’s cock hit that sweet spot inside him. The desperate cling of Eric's hands let him know that Eric still needed him. He had been given a second chance and had made a promise to himself that he would do better. Eric was his child, his friend, and his lover, and that was such a rare combination that he could now not believe he had thought of giving it up to meet the sun.
Godric’s own erection was so hard that he hurt for release but ignored it, instead focusing on Eric's pleasure. He lowered his head to lick at Eric's nipple as his body never missed a thrust. Eric's fangs throbbed and demanded, and the desk underneath them rocked heavily with each of Godric’s powerful movements.
Like this, it was as if there were not so many years of absence between them. Eric felt as he had the first time they made love, when he was first born to darkness. The younger vampire arched his back and moaned his maker's name, his fingernails drawing blood on Godric’s hips even though they only loosely held to allow Godric to continue his hard thrusts. Eric growled lustfully, animalistically, with indescribable heat and ecstasy.
Godric pulled Eric up so that his child was in a sitting position. He used his nail to cut his own neck, offering his blood to Eric because he knew it was what his child needed. A small part of him was actually nervous, thinking about Eric's last rejection of his blood.
Eric nearly lost it at the sight of the blood, however, but he forced his own orgasm down, desperate to make this last as long as possible. The blond vampire bore his fangs and immediately latched onto the wound, but instead of sucking from it, he sank his teeth into the flesh to make a wound that was all his own. He drank greedily with deep moans that vibrated through both their bodies, as his hands moved to clench his lover's ass.
Godric moaned when Eric penetrated him in this other but no less intimate way. His arms wrapped around Eric's neck to pull him closer as he drank. He was losing control of their rhythm, as the sensation of being was as all-consuming as their frantic love-making. He was finding it harder to concentrate and soon Godric’s rhythm slowed then stopped, with Eric still embedded deeply inside him.
Lost in the blood, Eric did not even notice their movement had ceased. He moaned aggressively against the wound as the vampire in him took over, yet worshipped every drop gratefully. To become one with something so powerful and ancient was intoxicating, and he felt his orgasm approaching with each deep pull of blood. It was in that moment that Eric knew the Gods were shaking their fists with jealousy.
Godric could not take it anymore. He bit into Eric's neck as Eric was drinking from his, and at the first taste of his child’s sweet blood, he could no longer stave off his own orgasm. For the first time in their history together, he came before Eric did.
As soon as Eric felt Godric's warm come hit his chest in sharp spurts, it was an instinctual reaction to follow him, to ride the wave with him. Eric’s hands on his lover's ass clenched hard as he exploded deep inside, shooting upwards into the sore, tight ring of muscles. Eric tore himself from the wound on his maker’s neck, his lips and mouth red with blood, as he cried out, filling Godric with his essence while at the same time giving everything to him with his blood.
Godric slumped onto Eric as if all the energy had been drained out of him. Now that he and Eric had consummated their love, he felt like he could finally relax and let his guard down. Over the years spent with Godric, Eric had gotten used to the coldness after sex. He was used to his maker detaching himself from him only seconds after they had both collapsed on each other, and leaving their bed to disappear into the night. This was a nice change. Yet still, Eric's hands were strong around him as if to prevent an attempt to leave.
"Maybe I'll make you jealous more often," Eric whispered with a lazy grin.
Godric inhaled Eric's scent, smelling blood, sex, and something that was uniquely Eric. That smell, oddly enough, always reminded Godric of his life before Eric. He chuckled against Eric's neck. "I do not think either of us could take it if you made me jealous more often."
"Speak for yourself," Eric teased. He knew that the minute he slipped out, Godric would heal up as tight as he had been before and Eric wanted to prolong the feeling of his maker stretched for him as long as possible. He moaned in relaxation as his cock continued to twitch in his post orgasmic haze.
"Hmm, I think I wore you out," Godric smiled. He sat up a bit so that he could see Eric's face. "I did not hurt you, did I?" he asked, looking Eric over for any signs of pain. It was his worst fear that he might lose control completely one night and hurt the one he loved most. The desk they were on seemed to be about ready to collapse.
Eric frowned. "No, I am the one that always hurts you.”
"Oh, my love, you cannot hurt me," Godric denied, kissing Eric softly on the lips reassuringly. "Never worry about that.” Godric smiled, wanting to move on to a better topic of conversation. “I will purchase you a new desk. We may have killed this one.” Just as he said that, the wooden desk creaked in protest under their combined weight.
Eric chuckled and shook his head. "I don't care about the desk. If you buy me a new one we'll just break it again, I'm sure." His hands ran down his lover's sticky chest, feeling his come cooling on his skin. He was not ready to change the subject, however. "It must hurt you. There is better, modern lubrication now... it will make things feel better," he suggested softly, knowing that Godric was never one for modern upgrades of anything.
"Blood has always worked just as well in the past," Godric said. He leaned his forehead against Eric's and closed his eyes for a moment. "But if you would like to try that, we can."
Eric grinned. "We can try it and you'll feel so good you'll understand why."
"Perhaps," Godric replied, unconvinced, but willing to try anything for Eric. He cocked his head to the side as if listening for something. "I think we have frightened all your patrons away," he said, slightly amused. He could hear the humans still ambling around in the bar, and he was pretty sure Pam was still nearby.
"Good. I like it just being us. It reminds me of when I was young." Eric smiled, knowing Godric would know exactly what he meant. When he was first born to vampirism, for many years he did not know any others except Godric. His maker did not keep him solely to himself by choice, however. Vampires in the ancient days were not what they are now. They were widely dispersed and much like animals. Each had its own range, its own territory, unless it lived in a group of more than two. Those groups were even more dangerous, and Godric had made a great effort to keep Eric safe from them. In fact, by law, Godric was supposed to have taken Eric to the nearest nest and introduced him, but he had waited till Eric was well over a decade old before he even considered it. Godric had not wanted to share his child with anyone.
Eric’s restless hands smoothed down his maker’s chest and his thumb circled his bellybutton, a part of Godric he had always had a strange fascination with. "You have a cute bellybutton," he teased, knowing it would get a reaction out of his maker.
Godric shook his head in exasperation. "Bellybuttons are not cute, Eric. You fixate on the strangest things." That made him think back to why he jumped Eric in the first place. Without warning, he gripped Eric's hair tightly and forced his child look him in the eye. "Do not take any of Sookie's blood, Eric," Godric ordered, perhaps the first direct one he gave in a long time.
Eric's body tensed. The promise to obey came instantly and instinctively. "If you wish it, I will swear off others’ blood completely. You are all I want," he vowed, although to another, Eric’s swearing off blood completely would be a laughable thought. But to Godric, he meant it with his heart and soul.
"Other mortals are fine to drink from, but not her. You drink from her and you will never want another," Godric warned his child vaguely.
That sparked Eric’s insatiable curiosity yet again, and he was once again very interested. Godric was acting strange. There was something about Sookie that he did not want Eric to know. "What do you mean?" he bravely asked.
Godric hesitated, but thought that if Eric knew the truth, his curiosity would be quenched and stop him from getting into further trouble. "She is part Fae, either from a grandparent or great grandparent. It is distant, but still in her blood. That is why our kind find her so attractive, and why she smells so good. If you drink from her, you will be even more infatuated. It is in her blood and she cannot help it. I do not even think she realizes it," Godric explained.
Eric laughed at first, unbelieving. And yet he did not think he had ever heard his maker joke. "There's no way. The girl is as thick as a brick," Eric insisted, trying to swallow down this realization. "No, she doesn't know. And neither does anyone else. But you should believe me when I say I was simply using her telepathic abilities to locate you."
"Alright, just do not drink from her," Godric warned again, finding that he could not say it enough. "And if you do ever come face to face with any of her kin, it is probably best not to mention who your maker is. Before I made you, it was a hobby of mine to hunt them down. That is how I recognized her smell. They were not appreciative of me… Fairies like to think themselves superior to all supernatural beings and they are very powerful magically. They thought they were at the top of the food chain... and I made it my job to prove them wrong."
Eric furrowed his brow in confusion. "What other strange hobbies did you have before you met me?" He asked. "Did you kill them?"
"I had been alone for a very long time before you. I cared more about survival than anything else. By the time I made you, I had come back to myself a little, if you can believe that. Yes, I killed them," he explained with a little regret. At the time, he had not really understood what they were, just that they tasted delicious. "Sookie is fascinated with me because I bring out a side of you she has never seen, one that she did not expect," Godric explained.
Eric listened, intrigued. Godric had never talked about his past before making his child. "How long were you alone?" he asked. "I know nothing of your life before me."
"I left Rome a few years after I was made and was alone until I found you. I was never a social creature. I did not crave companionship as most of us do, until I found you," he admitted reluctantly. He leaned in close to his child’s ear before whispering into it, "I killed my maker."
The fact that Godric's maker was dead was no surprise. Eric knew from the start that Godric belonged to no one else. Killing a maker was hard to do, if not impossible without trickery. A child could almost never overpower their eternally stronger maker. Godric would have had to have planned it out skilfully, artistically, and purposefully.
"Tell me about your maker," Eric encouraged.
Godric shivered at the memory of the man that had made him a monster. "I told you the Romans took over my tribe and killed my people. I think the only reason I survived was because I amused them. I never gave up fighting. I was sold into slavery. I went from being a Chief's son, a prince among my people, to a slave. I was sold to a wealthy family and escaped the first chance I got, but he was waiting for me, as if he knew what I would do before I did. He said he had never seen anything like me before. That was just before he murdered and then raped me. He said I would learn to love him, but I never did. I only saw him as another form of slavery. He did not have money, and he was a young vampire himself, so he gave me to humans for hours at a time, and they paid him well. I hated him for it."
Eric took in every shocking word and found it was all very hard to hear. "Did you kill the humans that touched you? If you didn't, tell me who they were so I may kill their descendants." He had always suspected that Godric had been raped sometime in his past, although clearly not while he was mortal. He liked to be on the top too much, liked to have control and liked to keep that control firmly in place.
Godric smiled. Eric always seemed to be able to pull that reaction out of him. He kissed his child’s lips reassuringly. "Their bones will have turned to dirt by now, but it is a nice thought. I hunted them down as soon as I was free of my maker."
Eric's body relaxed a little, and he felt now felt more like a restless child listening to a bedtime story. "How did you kill him?" he asked, because he was dying to know. If Godric was young and so was his maker, he must have been very weak; he would not have inherit strong blood.
"My maker simply underestimated my intelligence. When I was brought to Rome, I did not speak the language, but I picked it up quickly. I pretended I did not know very much Latin. So I watched and learned and waited for the perfect opportunity..." Godric stopped himself, suddenly going quiet, not wanting to discuss the subject further.
Eric's un-beating heart broke as Godric trailed off and nestled against him. His arms wrapped more tightly around his maker and he kissed any inch of skin he could reach. "You'll feel better if you tell me," he tried, although he was not so sure he sounded convincing. Eric was beginning to realize it would take much more than a few minutes to learn his maker’s past.
Godric shook his head and remained silent. He had told Eric enough for now, and he did not feel any less guilty for it. He lifted himself off Eric, his body healing itself quickly as he put on his jeans with his back to his child. When he finally turned around, he had regained his composure. "Let's go christen your bed," he said holding out his hand.
Eric grinned into a kiss as his hands ran up his maker’s slender back. He could still taste himself on Godric's tongue and he moaned softly into his mouth. He grabbed the smaller vampire’s rump and lifted him into his lap.
Godric chuckled as he was repositioned and ran his hands through Eric's short hair. He ground his hardening erection against Eric then pulled away from Eric’s enticing lips long enough to say, "I've always loved your hair.”
Eric smiled. He wondered if it made Godric sad to see it shortened, even if it was not the first time. Eric had been the first to cut his hair, after all, and it had taken Godric years to finally trim his to keep up with the changing times. "I've always loved your body," Eric half-whispered, half-moaned. His hand fell down to his lover's hardening flesh and gave it a soft squeeze. "Especially this. I'm glad you reached puberty before you were turned," he teased affectionately.
"That would have been horrible… to be forever stuck in the body of a child. At the time I was turned it was against vampiric law to turn a child. My maker had to go before the Elders because others argued I was too young. Lucky for me, my maker won. Otherwise I would have been forced to meet the sun…to put me out of my misery, so to speak," Godric huffed at the idea.
Eric’s grin faded quickly at the thought of his maker's life on trial. "What made them decide you were old enough?" he asked, his hands smoothing over his lover’s thighs.
"The deciding factor was whether or not I could come," Godric told Eric plainly as he ground his erection into Eric's again. "Lucky for me, I could."
Eric was sure for a moment that Godric was teasing him, but then remembered that his maker was terrible at telling jokes. "And how exactly did they decipher that?" he asked boldly.
Godric smirked and reached down to take both their cocks in his hand, squeezing them together. "At first, they ordered me to make myself release. I got hard, but there were too many people watching and I could not finish. There was another boy present that had been recently turned as well. He must have been around seventeen. He got permission to...help me. He saved my life that day."
When their cocks rubbed against one another, Eric gasped. Poor teenage Godric, he thought to himself. At that point, Godric would still have been young enough to feel the lingering effects of his early adolescence in all its fumbling awkwardness. Even now, Eric felt a twitch of jealousy at the thought of another touching Godric, even two thousand years in the past. He supposed he could not help that. As Godric’s one and only child, Eric was biologically programmed to be jealous.
"Were you attracted to him?"
"Yes," Godric whispered, resting his forehead against his child’s and closing his eyes. "He was always very nice to me," he told Eric, because back then, one kind word or gesture was all it took for Godric to be attracted to anyone.
Eric pouted despite the hand on his cock working him. "More than me?"
Godric stopped stroking them both and put his hands on either side of Eric's face to ensure he had his child’s complete attention. "I have never, ever wanted anyone like I want you," he assured Eric sincerely.
Eric closed the distance between them with a solid kiss. His tongue probed Godric’s mouth and his extended fangs grazed his tongue. Eric broke the kiss after a few moments, but he did not remove his lips from his maker's, even as he spoke. "You had no lovers at all before you were turned?" He asked. Now that Godric was opening up, Eric felt as though all the questions he’d been too afraid to ask were now going to pour of out his mouth.
"No. I had a... I do not know the word, but she and I were promised to each other at birth. She was murdered in the invasion," Godric answered, closing his eyes at the memory. It still amazed him that no matter what horrors he faced in his vampire life, his human life had hurt more.
Eric stared at him, wishing his maker would speak more straightforwardly. "Was she your lover? Did you fuck her?" he asked a little harshly, intrigued by the sadness in Godric's eyes when he spoke of this girl. Eric shivered, for the first time noting the absence of the warm water and feeling the awkwardness of sitting in a dry tub after it had finally finished draining. (After they had christened Eric’s bed, they had quickly decided they better christen the luxurious Roman-style bath tub as well.) "Did you love her?"
"Eric, don't be crude," Godric chastised quickly. "She was my intended, but we never lived long enough to marry. Yes, I loved her, but we were children who had known each other since we could crawl. My love for her was what one would have for a sibling," he tried to explain.
"Did you fuck her?" Eric asked one more time, not bothering to sound less crass. Eric was never good at sharing. He liked to keep what was close to him as close to him as possible. He wanted to know Godric's history.
"No!" Godric shouted, finally losing his temper and moving to get out of the tub. He did not like talking about his past, and Eric always seemed to focus on the sex. He had watched as someone he loved was killed. He had fought to save her, but in the end, it was all for nothing.
Eric narrowed his eyes at his lover and rose out of the tub as well. He grabbed his clothes from the floor and stormed out of the bathroom. It seemed that nothing much was going to change. Their conversations either ended in a vicious fight of power or wild lovemaking, and this time, it was their loss of tempers. Eric did not look back or say another word as he dressed and left his apartment.
Godric tried to calm himself after Eric left, but he couldn't seem to find his center. He sat on the couch for about an hour and glared a hole into the coffee table before he gave up and paced the room like a nervous animal in a cage. He felt trapped in this apartment. He felt as if he were becoming a kept pet.
He was no pet. He could go wherever he wanted and do whatever he wanted. And yet all that he wanted was right here.
He needed to go somewhere else to think. He left the apartment, so deep in thought that he forgot to slip on shoes. He decided against leaving a note. If Eric still believed Godric would leave him, even after assuring he would not, Eric would just have to get over his faithlessness.
The tranquil effect of the wooded area behind the bar had a quieting effect on Godric’s inner turmoil. He found a spot under a tree and sat there for a long time, just drawing ancient, forgotten symbols and figures in the dirt with a stick and enjoying the peace he found there.
Meanwhile, Eric was not worried about his maker’s whereabouts. Newly filled with his blood, he could feel if Godric were in danger or needed him. The fact that he sent out a spy to watch over him, knowing his tendency to wander, also helped to calm the Viking’s nerves. He knew that Godric would be infuriated by that for sure, but Eric was doing it to look out for him and protect him. Is that not what everyone, vampire or human, did for the ones they loved?
Pam was surprised to see her maker emerge from his apartment solo, but did not ask questions, and Eric was glad for it. He would have sent her out to watch Godric herself, but she would give her presence away easily with complaints about her shoes being ruined. He was sure wherever Godric had gone, it would probably be muddy. Instead, she filed her nails next to Eric on his throne.
Godric stilled when he finally realized that someone, or something, had followed him, having been too lost in his thoughts to notice before. The vampire intruder was young, not even a century old yet, and Godric had a pretty good idea that whoever had sent this amateur spy was not the enemy.
One second the young vampire was watching Godric from a safe distance, and the next, he was lifted by the scruff of his neck and led back to bar at a speed he did not even know vampires could achieve. His sheriff was not going to be pleased, the young one thought to himself in a panic. He did not know if he feared Godric or Eric more.
The bar went from bustling noise to absolute quiet when Godric suddenly appeared in front of Eric and dropped his stalker to the ground. The young vampire scrambled to his knees in front of Eric and, clearly terrified, apologized profusely for being caught during his spying attempt.
Godric’s expression was emotionless except for the fire burning angrily in his eyes. "What is this?" he asked calmly, not even bothering to elaborate, knowing that Eric would know precisely what he was talking about. His voice held an edge to it that had both vampires and humans shrinking away.
Eric raised one eyebrow and crossed his legs. He looked down at the cowering, weeping mess before him and actually pitied him. He knew first-hand how terrifying Godric could seem. He was also well aware that all eyes, both vampire and human, were fixed on them. He had never meant for this to become a public affair, and he did not like being chastised like a child in front of his inferiors. He tried not to act intimated, and even curled up his up in an amused smile.
"A very scared vampire, by the looks of it," Eric answered with a shrug. The former Viking stood and towered over his maker, who now had to turn his face upwards to look at him. Eric turned away and began to walk out of the bar, the crowd parting quickly like the Red Sea.
Godric clenched his jaw at Eric's reaction. He felt the curious eyes on them as Eric seemed to purposely tower over him, before simply turning and walking away, forcing Godric to follow him like a subordinate. Godric followed his child because he did not want a showdown in front of any others either, but as soon as they were away from prying eyes and behind the closed door of Eric's office, he grabbed the taller vampire and slammed him into the wall and held him there.
"My patience with you grows thin, Child," Godric warned, his fangs extended in anger.
Eric fired back with equal aggressiveness, at least in the sharp extension of his fangs and in the anger in his eyes. The truth was, he knew he could be crushed with a flick of his maker's wrist. Whether he was going to acknowledge his inferiority was a different story. "I told you I was afraid for you. I wasn't going to let you walk around when there is a plot against you!" he growled.
Godric forced himself away from Eric with such force that it was obvious he was preventing himself from lashing out. He took a few steps back so that the desk was a barrier between them. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Eric if he lost control of himself. "I am not a child, Eric! I am your maker and I do not need to be protected and coddled!"
When Godric separated them as if to prevent violence, Eric's arrogant and confident composure melted. He slumped against the wall, his eyes downcast to the floor. No, Godric was no child. But sometimes, Eric thought aspects of his prematurely-born vampirehood stayed with him. If it had not, Eric wondered if he would understand why he was worried, rather than act like a teenager who wanted to extend their curfew.
"And I am your child and it is my job to keep you safe. I've saved you once already and I will continue to protect you whether you think you need it or not."
"I don't need a protector. If anything, it is my job to protect you!" Godric insisted. Was he that horrible of a maker that Eric felt a need to reverse their roles? He had never heard of any vampire child having such a fierce need to protect his maker as Eric always had.
Eric slouched heavily against the wall and glared at Godric from the comfortable distance that was slowly making him bold again. "Can't you for once see through my eyes? You are a narrow-sighted child even still... You don't realize that I did it because you are my maker and I sure as hell had a right to watch out for you," he snarled.
“You take it too far, Eric. You are a jealous, possessive creature,” Godric accused.
Eric almost laughed. Jealous? The reason he sent out the spy was to protect him, or at least to give his own mind a sense of peace. "Jealous of what?! The dirt you idly sit in for hours while you are alone? Please, there is nothing to be jealous of," he snorted.
Godric did not know why those words actually hurt him. It was perhaps an old insecurity that he had long ago buried when he thought Eric was truly his. In their early years, Godric had always been so sure Eric would find someone more attractive to be with and leave him. Perhaps that was why Ms. Stackhouse had hit a nerve within him.
Eric watched as the mixture of emotions swept across his maker’s face. He seemed to be the only being in the world capable of bringing Godric's feelings to the surface. As usual, when Godric became truly upset, he seemed to just shut down. "I am going upstairs. I will stay in the rest of the night," Godric announced, walking past Eric without looking at him.
An hour later, Eric grew tired of glaring at the wall. After he closed the nightclub for the night, ushering the last lingering human out the door, he slowly made his way back to his apartment. He headed straight to his bedroom, knowing that his maker lay there as he had since their fight.
The room was dark but his vampire eyes adjusted quickly and he slipped off his shoes and jeans and slid under the covers where his lover's mostly naked body was curled up. Godric wore the boxers he hated so much, and Eric knew it was some sort of punishment just for him. No way would his maker endure the uncomfortable restraints of the underwear for any other reason.
Only a moment passed before Eric's hand crept around his maker's side and up his torso. Godric immediately pushed the hand away and curled up even more, knowing that physically pushing Eric away would hurt him. Eric jerked his hand back as if he had been burned, yet he did not recoil completely. Stubbornly, he would not let them sleep next to each other in anger.
"Maker..." He begged softly, knowing that that word usually always struck a soft spot within Godric, no matter how carefully guarded it always was. "You have to understand."
"Understand what, Eric?" Godric asked, not willing to let this go yet. "That you think of me as incapable? As both a vampire and your maker? I do not understand where all this… this…. mistrust comes from, because you clearly do not trust my judgment at all."
Eric sat up, wondering for the first time if his maker was beginning to lose his mind in his old age. "No! I don't know why you say such things, I never said that!" he shouted, because he knew Godric hated shouting. "Why don't you understand that I was trying to protect you from others, not from yourself? I trust you, I do not trust others!"
Godric sat up as well and turned around to face Eric. "Then prove it to me by showing me you trust me enough to take care of myself! I can take care of myself, Eric! I was doing it for over a millennium before you were born!" He shouted back, and his raised voice startled Eric. The Viking did the equivalent of a dog putting his tail between his legs and bowed down, pressing his head against his maker’s chest to show his obedience and respect and worship. He stayed like that for a while, silently asking for forgiveness.
Godric stared straight ahead for several moments, trying to regain his composure and completely ignored Eric. Soon, however, his own resolve began to crumble and he sighed. His hand came to rest on Eric's head. "Eric, we are going to end up hating each other if we keep on like this. And I could not live knowing you hated me. I promised I would not leave, but Shreveport is your life, not mine."
Eric panicked and raised his head to stare wide-eyed, immediately assuming the worst. "No!" He begged. "If you left me again I would hate you," he lied, because nothing, not even that, would make Eric hate him. He would resent Godric, sure, and perhaps never forgive him, but he could never hate him. "Why do you dislike it here? Where would you like to go? I'll take you anywhere, I swear, just don't leave me, I couldn't stand it, I'd throw myself in the sun to burn," he rambled on in his panic.
Godric grabbed both sides of Eric's face with his hands. "Do not ever say that again! Promise me you will never meet the sun because of me. I promised you, and as your maker, I command this."
Eric felt bloody tears spill from his eyes with panic. "I promise!” he shouted, only because he had no choice. His maker had commanded it. “Why do you want to leave me? Why can you not be happy here with me?"
Seeing Eric's tears, Godric immediately regretted being so forceful. "Shh,” he soothed, kissing Eric’s face. "I won't leave. It is not you… not you at all. You will have to forgive me. I was so set on dying on top of that rooftop that I had forgotten how hard living was."
"You cannot just say those things to me as if they mean nothing!" Eric cried. "And I cannot keep you here... I don't want to keep you here if only for my happiness. I want you to be happy, and I cannot make you happy…"
"I'll try harder, and I am happy with you!" Godric insisted, beginning to sound a little panicked himself when Eric would not stop crying and only seemed to sob harder. "Please, Child, stop crying. I cannot take it when you cry," he pleaded, and frantically pulled Eric closer to him. "Make love to me," he whispered into his ear, wanting to divert Eric's attention. "Please, Love, I need you."
Eric’s breath quickened with something other than sobs then, and the need to be close to Godric, to be inside of him, was suddenly overwhelming. "What is it that you dislike? I'll fix it, I'll make you love it here... I'll do anything..." he begged softly even as his clumsy hands ripped off his remaining clothing.
"Just love me," Godric told him, pulling Eric down on top of him.
Godric wrapped his arms around Eric and held him tightly as he soothingly ran his fingers through Eric's sweaty hair as they both came down from their post-orgasmic highs. He turned his head to kiss Eric's temple and breathed in the musky scent of his lover.
Eric sighed in contentment, feeling the scratches Godric’s nails left on his back and the bites to his lip healing. He tried to find the English words to explain how he felt but his mouth ran dry. His cock was softening inside his lover, but he made no attempt to detach himself. Instead, he kissed Godric slowly, making love to his mouth with his bloody tongue.
Godric growled in pleasure at the taste. When the blood ran dry, Eric broke the kiss to lick some that had spilt on his lover's chin. His hands, shaky with the aftermath of his powerful orgasm, caressed Godric’s thighs which were still wrapped around his waist. "I feel like I can believe in the Gods when I make love to you," Eric whispered into the thirsty shell of his maker’s ear.
"Hmm," Godric mumbled, and shivered at Eric's words. "I should not have gotten so upset earlier, I apologize," he admitted quietly.
Eric shook his head and kissed away any further words from his mouth. "Just tell me what you want to do, where you want to go. I will do anything to make you happy. I can't be happy unless I know you are..." His voice was pleading again.
"It will just take some adjusting. I am used to taking care of others, and I am not needed here. I feel like I am holding you back, like being here has made it more dangerous for you."
Eric shifted so he could look directly into his maker's eyes. He could see his soul shining through the irises, and it was such a relief. Sometimes, his maker could be so withdrawn, so distant, and his eyes could be empty. Eric wanted to bring life and light back into them no matter how close Godric was to accepting death.
"No, no you're wrong. I need you here. The only thing that kept me going all these years was the thought of getting you back. And you take care of me... I cannot function on my own without you, no matter how self-sufficient I pretend to be. Just ask Pam…she knows," he admitted honestly. Pam was always there to motivate him, even when the darkness was all-consuming.
Godric stroked Eric's cheek. "We are both silly fools aren't we?" he mused with a smile. "All this time I have wasted being away from you."
Eric wished there were no sadness in that smile. He almost wanted to tickle him, but he knew that would be forcing it. He realized in that moment that Godric still needed to be saved. "No, it only makes this reunion better. And when I'm exhausted and come home to you every night after my 'sheriffy duties', I can show you how much I need you," he grinned against his lover's lips, hoping to earn himself one in return. “Maybe you could find a hobby…”
"Like what, knitting?" Godric teased, and Eric rolled his eyes, giving up. Godric's refusal to participate was making Eric's heart break all over again.
Godric frowned at the ceiling and pulled Eric closer to him. "I apologize. You are right. I will find something to entertain myself while you are not here with me," he assured quietly. "I do not deserve you."
Eric lifted his head and gave him a puzzled look. It seemed his low self-esteem was something Godric was never going to grow out of, no matter how old he became. "You are a far better vampire than I could ever be. I would have killed every human in that church, just for revenge and just out of anger. I was ready to do it. I've... I've done things in your absence you would not be proud of," Eric whispered, remembering his human dungeon.
"We have all done things we are not proud of, Child. It is what you do with the knowledge and experience our mistakes give us that counts," Godric told him. "Our kind has grown too full of ourselves. Some humans treat us as gods, while others fear us. There is no real median and I doubt there will ever be. Sometimes, I believe we should have kept ourselves in the dark. There is no place in the human world for us.”
Eric considered that theory, but knew that sometimes evil was just plain… evil. He was a vampire who prided deeply in what he was, even from his very beginning. He was meant to be a monster.
“Whatever you have done in the past, Eric, is in the past.”
Eric knew Godric would not be so quick to reassure him if he really knew what he had done. "You spoil me," he determined with an affectionate smile.
"Hmmm, not nearly enough," Godric teased, kissing Eric's smile. "And you try and take care of me and I am not appreciative enough of it.”
"Mmm, I know deep down you love me obsessing over you." Eric moaned at Godric's groping and tilted his head to give his lover's neck a fleshy nip. He dropped his head and his hands ran up Godric's thighs to his tattooed chest. "I want to stay inside you forever."
"I wish that were feasible," Godric whispered, his hand trailing down Eric’s chest. "The bar is empty now… and I have been fantasying about riding you on your throne,” Godric admitted in a heated whisper.
"Throne?" Eric laughed softly. "I rather like how making up makes you horny. Maybe we should fight more often," he teased, but no way did he mean it.
"I think it is more your throne that makes me horny…" Godric chuckled, his hands still kneading Eric's ass as he spoke.
Not wanting to hurt him, Eric finally slipped out of Godric. Curiously, he slipped down his maker's body and nuzzled his abdomen, inhaling the scent of his essence staining his skin. He licked the come from his belly with one long stroke of his tongue. "Mmmm," he moaned approvingly.
Godric watched, memorized by the sight and feel of Eric's tongue on his skin. "What do I taste like?" he asked curiously.
Eric ran his tongue up his lover's abdomen again, lapping up any remaining sticky streaks of him. He moaned as he kissed him, letting Godric taste himself. "You taste like a horny little teenager," Eric teased when he pulled back and licked the corner of Godric's mouth. In reality, he tasted like everything Eric loved about him. He tasted like home.
Godric nipped at his lower lip in retaliation. "I do not," he protested. He wrapped his arms around Eric's neck to keep him close even though there was no danger of his Eric pulling away for him.
Eric chuckled and nipped him back, softly teasing without drawing blood. "I thought you wanted to go play on my 'throne'?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I do wish to play on your throne," Godric giggled, and his eyes lit up with mischief. "We could play a game… like we used too. I can play the innocent human and you can be the big bad vampire."
Eric was getting hard again, and he pressed his cock against his lover's hips as if to show it off. He fondly remembered their years of role playing together. At first, he had been afraid to be the one to take control. He had feared that Godric would not allow it, but his maker had always been quick to reassure him. "Does that mean I get to boss you around without getting smacked?" he challenged.
Godric grinned, not promising anything.
Eric felt warmth spread throughout his cold body as he nuzzled his maker's neck. It was an old habit that always brought him comfort. Having collapsed between Godric's legs, Eric made no effort to move, and instead settled more heavily on top of him. Godric closed his eyes and purred with pleasure at the small show of affection from his child. He let his fingers run lazily up and down Eric's spine.
"You are like a big cat," Godric teased.
"Yeah, but you’re the one purring. You're like a not-so-big cat." Eric smirked, loving the smell of himself on his lover's skin.
"Brat," Godric accused affectionately. He suddenly felt very tired, his eyelids falling heavily. There was still a half hour before the sun would begin to rise, and Godric was surprised he was feeling so drowsy. "I think you wore me out."
Eric pouted at his lover's sleepy eyes. "Come on, I could still go for another round."
"You're not tired?" Godric asked just as a strange feeling settled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. He was beginning to think that something was not right, but he was too tired to think about the fact that there was a faint scent of magic in the air. "Eric..." He barely had the strength to say his child’s name. "Something is wrong."
Eric did not notice the panic in Godric's voice. He was growing tired as well, having given up hope on having round two, and settled down on top of his maker. "No, you're just not used to keeping up with me, old man," Eric teased playfully. A drowsy smirk played on his lips as he closed his eyes.
"Must be," Godric agreed, brushing away his doubt, and was soon immersed in the darkness of sleep. It was not the familiar, easy surrender-like tug of the sun, however. It was a different kind of pull, heavy, like a drug.
"I love you," he whispered into Eric's hair before he finally fell victim to the witch's spell.
Godric awoke dazed and confused, and it was a while before he realized he was not stuck in the terrors of a nightmare. He seemed to be in some sort of prison cell and the pain of the silver collar around his neck made it impossible to doubt the authenticity of his surroundings.
He growled when a few men entered his cage. No, they were not men, he realized. They were vampires, his nose told him, and he bore his own fangs to hiss.
The other vampires jumped back nervously at the outburst. "He's as weak as a kitten," their leader stepped in to reassure, and although Godric did not understand the words exchanged, the language seemed familiar. "Why don't you boys welcome him to our lair?"
The next time he woke, Godric was in a cell of another kind, but this time, there seemed to be another occupant beside him. His companion appeared to be asleep, and groaned as his aching body writhed. The collar slowed the healing process. Godric cocked his head curiously and watched.
He was distracted by the sudden presence of others looking at him through the bars, and Godric growled viciously again. "You are a savage little thing aren't you?” The leader chuckled. “Is that part of the spell?" he asked an older woman next to him.
"The spell reduced him to his most primal state," she explained. "Would you like me to wake up the Viking now?"
At the vampire’s nod, the air was suddenly filled with the scent of magic, and Godric fled to the farthest corner, pulling his knees to his chest.
Eric felt the wind knocked out of his body for perhaps the first time in hundreds of years and woke from the dark void that had swallowed him. Pain was the first sensation that struck him. Pain, weakness, and the strong scent of something evil. He heard the soft drip of water and the ground hard against his back.
He opened his eyes to a dungeon, and instantly he remembered the basement of Fangtasia. Confusion clouded his mind as he tried to uncover this mystery, and when his vampiric eyes focused on his surroundings and saw the bars surrounding him, he knew he was a captive.
He stood, and it took all of his strength just to do so. "What the hell is this?! Who the fuck are you?!" He screamed, but his voice was hoarse, strained, and he felt the collar around his neck burn him.
"I am the King of Texas, Thomas Arden. I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting you, Eric Northman, but I've done a lot of research on you," the vampire said with a smile. Dressed in an Armani suit, he must have been turned in his early forties. "I have a deal to discuss with you and I thought you would be more agreeable in these circumstances."
Eric bore his fangs and clenched his burned hands into fists despite the pain. "No one forces me into anything. I choose what deals I participate in." His tone was threatening, because it was the only aggression he was capable of. If there was one thing Eric hated in this world, it was feeling helpless. "Do you even realize who I am?! Who will be coming for me?! You'll piss off the wrong maker."
Where was Godric? Eric thought to himself. In his frenzied mind he cried out for him.
Thomas chuckled darkly. "I think you will be more inclined to hear my deal if you want to get out of here alive. As for your maker, he has been nothing but a thorn in my side for a long time. I had to do something about him, and I finally did." He gestured to the dark corner where Godric was cowering. A low, defensive growl came from the darkness and Thomas laughed. "He will make an excellent pet when he's been broken. Unfortunately, he is immensely stubborn, even in his current state."
Those words chilled Eric down to the core of his being, and anger like he had never before experienced overwhelmed him. He lunged at the silver bars that contained him, shaking them with all of his strength, but pulling back when he felt his hands burning. Panicked, Eric dropped to the ground and narrowed his eyes into the darkness where he had heard the noises. He saw a child with wild eyes full of feral aggression. He did not see his maker.
"Godric?!" he demanded.
Thomas laughed and signaled to his guards to open the cell. "Drag the wild child out into the light so that Mr. Northman can get a better look."
There was a hiss from the corner as the guards grabbed the squirming boy. Godric tore a chunk out of one of the guard’s arms in retaliation before they threw him down onto the floor. He was suddenly immersed in moonlight filtered through a barred window.
"Don’t touch him!" Eric screamed, ravenous in his aggression as he threw himself at Thomas. Even in his weakened state, he managed to tear a good portion of Thomas’s hair out and scratch his face. Eric’s burnt hands were bloody by the time the other vampire punched him. Eric fell to the ground and struggled to become a defensive wall around his maker. "What did you do to him!?"
Godric was confused. The tall, handsome, blond vampire seemed to be trying to protect him, but he was just as frightening to Godric as his captives.
"We took his memory away. I didn't anticipate this as the outcome, but it has been interesting. Come on, Northman, don't look at me that way. You should be thanking me. It was perverse how long Godric kept you under his control. You are free now."
Ignoring his pain, Eric did not give up. "What can be taken away can always be regained. He always taught me that," he snarled, wishing now of all times that he could believe it himself. "This was a huge mistake. You kidnapped two Sheriffs... two respected Sheriffs. I wonder what your punishment will be. I hope you're not too attached to those fangs of yours. You won't have them long." If there was anything Eric did well, it was intimidation.
The king laughed at his prisoner’s confidence. "Come on, boys. Let's leave Northman for a few moments with his broken maker." Thomas ushered his underlings out. He followed them, but not before casting Eric one more look. "You will give your allegiance to me, Northman, or you will be the one suffering for your mistakes. You and your maker."
Eric glared hatefully as Thomas left, but he did not feel any less a prisoner with his absence. He turned to Godric and swallowed down all panic and fear and anger for the sake of him now.
"Godric," he whispered the name, as if trying to drag the memories out of him. They were still there, Eric had to believe that. "Wake up from this. You need to remember how strong you are."
Godric eyed the bigger man warily. There was that word again. It sounded familiar to him and he wondered if it was his name. This man said it as if he had done something wrong, and he scooted farther away.
Frustrated, Eric wanted to force it out of him. When he saw he was scaring Godric, however, his expression softened and he held out his bloody hand for his. "No, Maker..." His voice was softer now. He slipped easily into their ancient language, one that perhaps Godric could remember. "Remember me."
Godric's brow wrinkled in confusion at the change in speech, but he still could not quite place it. He stood slowly before he hesitantly placed his hand in Eric's even as his whole body was tense, ready to run or fight if he had to.
Eric was extremely careful not to make any movements, knowing that Godric was as tight as a spring. His hand was without constraint as he let Godric take the lead. "It's all right. It's Eric. You know me. I belong to you." He did not know who he was trying to comfort more. He had to form a bond with this new creature that possessed his maker if he was going to get them out of here.
"Ey-rick?" Godric attempted to use the same strange speech as he placed his hand on the taller man's broad chest. "Ey-rick?"
Eric pretended to be pleased with his maker’s tiny improvement. He wondered if Godric could still feel their bond. "Er-ic. You know how to say it," he nodded gently, covering his hand with his own. "I am your child. We share the same blood,” he tried to explain.
Godric frowned. The larger vampire looked as if he could snap him in half, but his voice was gentle. For some reason, Godric trusted him. He pointed to Eric again and then to himself with a questioning look.
Eric forced himself to remember the virtue of patience. He pointed to himself. "Eric." He remembered something in a movie that was all too similar to this. Me Tarzan, you Jane. He wished he could joke. "Godric." He pointed to his maker and was careful to keep his movements slow and gentle.
"Ga-drick," Godric hesitantly attempted to repeat him.
"That's it. God-ric." Eric nodded his head. "I'm going to get us out of here. And then you will remember," he spoke with mock confidence, mostly to himself.
That was when Godric smelled the blood on Eric's hands and instantly became distracted. He brought Eric's hand to his lips and began to lick the blood away like a mother cat would clean her kitten. Eric watched, mesmerized. The blood was the ultimate physical and mental link between them. If he renewed that, if Godric drank from him, he would not be able to deny who he was. Clinging to the hope that thought offered, Eric slashed his own neck well above the silver collar so as to not harm him.
"Come," he whispered, tilting his neck in offering, his posture as submissive and unthreatening as possible.
There was not a moment’s hesitation before Godric clumsily bit down on the wound. Eric was surprised by his forwardness, even after he realized that he should not be. He wondered how much of his Godric was left, and how deeply he was buried. He wondered how much he could recover. Yet when the boy savagely lunged at his throat and began to gulp down Eric's blood, he knew the answer to that question.
Godric was there. Inside this savage little boy was his maker as preserved as ever before. Eric closed his eyes, his own fangs biting his lip to stifle the sounds that his throat desperately wanted to make. He almost felt perverse taking pleasure from the bite, thinking for the first time in his immortal life that it should not feel as good as it did. They were in trouble, and Godric was not himself.
Yet Eric could not hold back a soft moan when his maker detached with a bloody mouth and some of it spilled down his chin. The boy swallowed innocently and Eric looked desperately into his grey eyes for familiarity. The wildness in the boy’s eyes still sparkled, however, and Eric realized it was as though his evolution had been set back thousands of years.
When Eric noted no change, he could not bear it, but Godric was ignorant to Eric’s despair and swooned from the blood. He purred in contentment and buried his face in the taller vampire’s broad chest.
Eric did not expect his maker to understand when he whispered, “Let me clean you up.”
Godric responded to the gentle tone of the vampire’s voice and lifted his chin up to him as if he trusted Eric with his life. Eric mused, thinking that the king probably imagined Godric would turn on Eric within seconds and slaughter him while they were alone in their shared prison. Yet here he was, as gentle as a kitten.
The Viking gently licked away the blood from his maker’s face and remembered how he looked the first time he’d seen him. Perhaps this had been supressed in Godric all along and the witch simply drew it out of him.
Godric relaxed and closed his eyes as Eric cleaned him. Something about it felt so comfortable, so familiar, but he could not remember the hundreds of other times they had done it. The contentment was short-lived, however, and both vampires tensed when they heard guards approaching.
"So this is the Ancient One and the Viking? They don't see so tough to me," a large vampire told his companion. "The little one is awfully pretty," he grinned. Eric knew this guard had not been a vampire long.
A low, menacing growl erupted from deep inside Godric's chest and the guards paused in their steps as if reconsidering. Godric's hands tightened in Eric's shirt as his body froze, preparing to pounce if he needed to, as if he were triggered by his instincts as a maker to protect his child. Eric watched him arch in aggression, and even in their current situation, he swelled with hope.
Eric laughed as the guards took a few steps back from them. "You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into," he warned them.
It was at that moment that the alarms rang loudly throughout the building, and in a panic, the guards took off up the stairs. Godric shrieked at the loud, artificial sound of the siren and covered his ears, cowered, and clenched his eyes shut. Eric froze, hearing the sounds of a battle from a floor above.
It was Isabel that flew down the stairs at vampiric speed, and Eric blinked twice to confirm that what he was seeing was real. "Godric… Eric," she sighed in relief. There was a bloody slash across her cheek and her leather jacket was torn. "We were worried we wouldn't get here in time." Eric’s senses perked when he felt his own child approach, and a moment later, Pam joined them. She was visibly shaken, and when she saw her maker weakened by the silver bonds, she was overwhelmed and fell speechless.
"Took you long enough!" Eric shouted, but remembered his maker’s sensitivity to sound and silenced himself. Neither Isabel nor Pam knew about Godric’s present state of mind, and he wondered how he was going to explain it to them. "I can't get the silver off. Where's that damn human!?" He growled, as if he had expected Sookie to come along with them.
Godric still had not let go of his death grip on Eric's shirt. "I'll get someone," Pam rushed off.
Isabel’s gaze settled on Godric and she knew immediately that something was very wrong. "What happened to him?" she whispered.
Eric could not bear to say it aloud. Right now, his patience was running out and all he could think about was getting out and seeking safety. Normally, he would have an enormous amount of respect for the vampire who cared for Godric during the years when he did not, but now was not the time to be polite.
"I will answer your questions later, just get us out," he growled. He could still hear the stomping of feet above them and voices, and he knew Pam and Isabel could not have come alone.
"Eric, do you realize how many reinforcements I had to gather to take on the King of Texas? I apologize for the delay, but it took some maneuvering," she explained, but her gaze never left Godric’s. Eric recognized pain in her expression. Before she could ask again, however, a human who had once been a loyal pet to the king rushed down the stairs with Pam. She motioned for him to unlock the cell door, which he did with shaking hands.
Eric did not feel liberated when the door was open. The silver still weighed him down. "I have the key to the collars too, but it's also made of silver,” the human spoke to the vampire nervously, avoiding eye contact. “So you might have to let me undo them…."
Eric was surprised to see this apparent mutiny by one of the king’s men. He was not glamoured, at least not currently. There was no way Eric going to let him near Godric. "I don't trust him. Pam, find some damn gloves and do it yourself," he ordered her, his voice hoarse from the cruel effects of the collar.
Pam rolled her eyes in annoyance and frustration, and Isabel quickly pulled a pair of leather gloves from her pocket and handed them over to the Viking’s child. Eric continued to glare at the human and watched his every nervous move in distrust.
When Pam came close with the key, Godric erupted with a growl that caused her to jump back in surprise. She nervously tried to ignore the noise and hurried to carefully undo Eric's restraints. "Maybe you should leave those on him until… until he is more himself."
Eric clutched his sore wrists in pain, just thankful to have them off. He turned to Godric. "Godric, let her. She's here to help." He spoke soothingly because he knew that otherwise Pam was going to be attacked.
Godric stopped growling and closed his fanged mouth. Pam gave Eric a questioning look, but after getting no immediate response, she unlocked Godric’s bracelets with obvious hesitance. When she reached for Godric's neck, she yelped and pulled her hands back just in time to avoid a bite. "Eric!"
Eric embraced his maker close to him to prevent another attack. "Godric." He was using his name often, hoping it would spark his memory of it. He had to believe it was still buried deep inside of him. "She is helping you," he chastised softly. Freed from his silver bonds, Eric was beginning to feel his strength return, and he grabbed the gloves and key from his Pam. The glove was far too small for him, but it was enough to create a protective barrier just long enough. Godric recoiled as Eric approached him with the strange objects, and in frustration, Eric almost lost himself.
Isabel knew this and took a few steps closer. She sank to her knees and began humming a soft Spanish lullaby that seemed to melt Godric’s tension. Eric had little time to be amazed as he quickly worked off the bonds.
"He always did like that song," she whispered with sadness in her voice. Eric was sure that by now, they both understood what had happened to his maker.
Eric gingerly took Godric by the hand and stood. His maker’s grip was strong even though he was weakened. Together, they rushed with Isabel and Pam out of the building, which was cleverly disguised as an abandoned warehouse. Eric took note of the bloody, lifeless bodies of both humans and vampires littering the floor. It was the only indication of the battle that had taken place just moments ago for their sake. There was no sign of the king anywhere and Eric did not have time to stop and ask questions.
"Where can we go that is safe?" Eric turned to Isabel. Godric clung to him.
"I have a place. It was supposed to be a surprise for both of you. I bought a house just outside of Shreveport. It is very secluded and I thought it would be perfect for the two of you," Isabel said.
If Eric were in his right mind, he would have shown at least an ounce of gratitude. "Fine, you can lead us there."
Isabel nodded just as a black limo sped out from its hiding place in the darkness. Pam and Isabel jumped in, but Godric clung even harder to Eric in fear. Eric realized quickly that Godric could not recognize what it was. He gently lifted his maker into his arms like a child. "It's okay. I'm going in with you. It's safe," he tried to convince him in words he knew would be lost on his maker.
Godric shook in Eric’s arms the entire ride. The Viking nervously combed his fingers through his maker’s tangled hair as Pam watched with a worried expression on her face. Isabel made phone call after phone call as Godric watched curiously despite his panic.
It was an hour before the buildings began thinning out and the woods became thicker. "I will hire some weres to work the gate during the day. They can be trusted." They pulled up to a huge white antebellum mansion, and Godric poked his head up. "The basement has to be refinished but I’ve already had the master bedroom windows blacked out."
Eric hardly took notice of the lavish mansion before him. His maker’s sanity may be gone forever, and that was all he could bring himself to care about at that moment. "That's all fine but what are we going to do about Godric?!" He snarled, and led his maker by the hand out of the limo and into the house. Godric resisted the entire way, yet only half-heartedly, wanting to stay with Eric even if it meant entering this very intimidating building.
Eric was surprised to find most of the mansion already furnished. No vampire stopped to admire it, however, as Isabel led them quickly upstairs. Eric continued to gently pull Godric along, even as his maker’s distracted eyes flew around the hallway in amazement.
"I have people looking for the witch," Isabel spoke softly to Eric when they finally stood in the bedroom, even though she knew nothing could provide him solace. It was clear that she did not know how to undo what had been done to Godric any more than Eric did. “Once word got out that two sheriffs had been kidnapped, our allegiances proved their loyalty. The king will pay for this. And… and we will heal Godric.”
Eric could say nothing to that. "You will be safe here. The sun is rising and you both need to rest," she suggested, and when the Viking nodded shortly, she turned to leave.
Now alone, Eric watched the mute boy look around curiously before he began to explore his new surroundings using touch and smell. Every so often, his eyes would search out to find Eric’s, as if to make sure he was still there. Each time, Godric would be puzzled with the other vampire’s obvious despair.
When at last he grew bored, Godric pounced on an unsuspecting Eric and pinned him to the bed in a wild attempt to make the larger vampire smile. Eric panicked at first, but soon recognized the growl as playful and relaxed his tense body.
"What was that for?" He whispered, not understanding.
Godric smiled down at him in response and licked the area of Eric's neck that he tasted before. He took in Eric's scent before he sat back up and let go of his arms. He looked down at him as if he were expecting Eric to do something to entertain him.
Eric searched again for any resemblance of his maker in this feral child. "You must be tired," he spoke mostly to himself as he pulled the warm covers of the bed over both their bodies. Maybe this intimacy would bring his Godric back to him. Maybe if he slept, his memory would come back in dreams.
Godric frowned in confusion and snatched up the quilt before he jumped off the bed and created a nest on the bare floor. When he realized Eric had not followed him, he sat up and glared. Eric sighed sadly when he realized what was happening. He remembered many nights during their early years together when they would bed down together on a pile of furs with nothing underneath but the stone floor of a cave.
"No, up here. It's warmer and more comfortable," he told him, but Godric only shifted restlessly and continued to glare. Eric knew it was pointless to argue with him now when words meant nothing, and giving up, he gathered more blankets and slid down to the floor to join him.
Godric immediately snuggled up close to Eric and sighed deeply in satisfaction. For one short, desperate moment, Eric thought that perhaps Godric was better off like this. In horror, he pushed that thought far out of his mind and forced himself to relax and close his eyes.
Eric woke the next evening still in one piece and still lying on the floor. In his sleep, the boy had disrobed completely and had curled up impossibly close to him. Tenderly, Eric brushed his knuckles along his maker's face, his expression soft and innocent with sleep. He knew then that nothing had changed in Godric.
The older vampire’s grey eyes fluttered open soon enough and a small smile swept over his lips when he saw that Eric was still with him. He had been disappointed last night when Eric did not seem to want to mate. He was here now, however, and he smelled of love and safety. Godric rubbed his rising arousal lightly against Eric’s hip.
Eric perked fully awake and shifted so he lay on top of the boy. "None of that," he chastised gently, even if it broke his heart. He inhaled the scent of his hair as if to convince himself that this was still his maker, and took Godric's hand to curl it around the boy's erection. He stroked slowly. "Here... touch yourself," he instructed in their old language. He knew Godric’s teenage hormones, having been suppressed for so many centuries, were resurfacing with nothing to hold them back anymore. Eric wanted so badly to touch him, to have him, but he knew it was wrong…
Godric did as Eric showed him, wrapping his own hand around his cock and stroking it slowly. It felt good, really good, but he still knew something was missing, as if remembering how much better it could feel. When Eric let go, he whimpered, but continued to stroke himself.
"That's it," Eric whispered soothingly, ignoring his own erection. He was afraid that Godric would not take this with satisfaction and demand more. So that he did not have to watch this arousing scene, Eric lowered his head onto the pillow he had dragged down with them to the floor.
Godric growled. Something was not right. Eric lifted his head to find that he had not come and he knew then that Godric needed more. "All right," he sighed, his hand running up Godric’s thigh to take his maker’s cock in his hand. Stroking it slowly at first, he built up a fast rhythm. "Mmm... good?" Eric whispered.
Godric panted and attempted to pull Eric closer to him, spreading his legs automatically as if by instinct. He whimpered and attempted to thrust his hips further into the other vampire’s hand. Eric fought down his own instincts, refusing to take advantage. He wondered if Godric would remember any of this when he was better, and he had to tell himself he would find out one day. "Shhh..." He soothed, nuzzling his neck affectionately, because he did not want the entire house hear Godric cry out.
Godric's fangs were out and sharp when Eric nuzzled him and brought his neck dangerously close to his mouth. Suddenly, Godric was hungry for something else, and when he arched and came into Eric’s hand, he could not stop himself from clumsily biting into Eric’s neck. The first taste of blood caused him to moan and come a second time.
Eric gasped in pain with the uninvited and unexpected penetration of fangs. His immediate reaction was to stop Godric before it went too far, yet when he felt the first pull on his vein from Godric's demanding mouth, he melted against him. It was like being born again, having his maker drink from him like this, and he craved it too much to stop it even if it meant he could die.
Godric drank and drank and filled himself on Eric's blood as if he’d not had anything to eat in years. Something told him he should let go, that he was taking too much, too fast, but he did not know how to listen to his instinct any longer. He pulled Eric closer to himself instead.
Eric felt exhaustion hit him as a consequence of Godric's greedy, deep gulps of his blood, but he still did not stop him. He was too distracted by the idea that this may be the one and only thing to link them together again. It may be the one thing to reverse the spell and bring his Godric back to him.
Finally, when Eric felt himself teeter on the brink of consciousness, he pushed the boy away. "Enough." His voice was rough as he laid a steady hand on his chest. He was sure Godric would have fought him for more if he had not been so intoxicated on his blood. He tried to gather his thoughts and searched in his maker's eyes for familiarity. "Do you remember anything?" he whispered.
Godric blinked up at him as he slowly woke from his blood-lusted haze. He still did not know what Eric was saying, and he frowned, picking up on his companion’s distress. The Viking sighed in disappointment and detached himself from Godric as he sat up. He did not know if he did it more to protect Godric from himself or to protect himself from Godric, considering his erection was still urgent in his jeans.
He chose to ignore it and held out a hand to his maker. "I have to go talk to the others about healing you. I'd like you to come with me so I can watch you."
Godric took Eric's hand and stood, and the blankets fell to reveal his nude, come-covered state. Godric's adolescent body was rosy with blood and flushed with sex, and Eric would have given anything at that moment to have him. He could only stare, hypnotized as Godric smiled and his free hand automatically went to Eric’s erection, cupping and squeezing him lightly through his pants.
That was it, Eric thought. For the sake of Godric, for the sake of his maker trapped within this animal, he had to put an end to this before it went too far. Growling, the Viking shoved Godric's hand roughly away from him and looked sternly into his eyes. "No!" he shouted, as if he were chastising a disobedient puppy.
Godric cringed. Feeling rejected once again, he pouted at him and felt his eyes well up with tears. He looked away and covered his face in his hands so that Eric would not see. Eric sighed, not wanting to give the boy the kind of attention he obviously desired.
He took a tired step towards him, holding out Godric’s trousers. "Put on clothes. Come on. I'll tell someone to get you something more comfortable, but for now..."
Godric thought for a moment about being difficult and refusing to put on any clothes, but Eric's reaction had frightened him, so he quickly dressed. He did so clumsily as if he could not remember how they fit him. Eric had to help him button and zip.
He did not think he had ever seen his maker cry. Seeing him as the abandoned, abused child that he had been more than two thousand years ago broke his heart, but also made him more determined to reverse the spell. "Come, follow." He gave him short commands on the offhand chance that Godric would begin to recognize them.
Godric hated all the unnecessary clothing and shifted uncomfortably in them. He followed Eric out of the room, and as soon as they were out in the hallway, they heard the foretell click of Isabel's boots on the hardwood floor. Godric hid behind Eric.
"I had an idea," Isabel hurried to say, as if she had been up all day plotting it. "Your mind reader, Sookie, could help us. I called a witch friend of Godric's, but she said that only the witch who cast the spell could break it. When I mentioned we had a mind reader available, Amelia said she might be able to get inside Godric's head. At least see what was going on. She said she would need you to help, since you are probably the only person he trusts in the first place."
Eric glared at the vampire women. "What good would she do? I don't need someone to go into his mind to find that there is nothing there. It would fix nothing," he told her angrily. He was starting to feel completely hopeless. He glared at Isabel as she frowned at the boy behind him. "Don't look at him like that, you'll scare him."
"We need to do something, Eric. At least this way, we will know more of what we are dealing with. How do you know for sure it was a spell? He was awake when you woke up, right? They could have done anything to him while you were out," Isabel suggested, trying to defend her plan. She looked at Godric once again with a puzzled expression. "Why does he look like someone killed his puppy?"
Eric growled, but stopped the instant he felt his maker jump. "What do you mean, anything? He doesn't remember a thing. They took away his memory," he told her. This was his maker they were dealing with. There were a thousand years of love and devotion between them that she could never understand. "We have no time to fuck around with psychics. We have to find that witch. With all out alliances, why haven't we done so already!?"
"We don't know how much of his memory was actually taken away. What if it's just blocked from him? He acts like a fledging, so he obviously knows he's a vampire," Isabel said, looking at Godric thoughtfully. "What was his maker's name? He mentioned him once. Michael, Marius... Marcus… it was Marcus! "
Godric froze at the mention of that familiar name and squeezed Eric tighter to him. Both Isabel and Eric watched him carefully. "See? He does remember," the dark-haired vampire said.
Eric clenched Godric tighter, but he did not let himself become too hopeful yet, even when his dead heart was fluttering in excitement. "It might have just been the tone of your voice. You're scaring him," Eric accused. He took Godric’s hand in his and turned to walk to a vacant room. "Let me try," he told Isabel before shutting the door.
Eric brought Godric with him to a couch, nuzzled him affectionately, and showered his face with quick kisses. "What do you remember, Godric? Do you remember Isabel? Pam? Sookie?" he asked soothingly.
It was getting frustrating, not knowing what was going on or what was happening to his maker. Godric started to get agitated again, not understanding what was being asked, but knowing it was important. Eric could feel his body tense and he knew it was because of the flow of unfamiliar words. Silently, he continued to kiss Godric’s face, his neck, his lips, until he felt his maker relax again.
Now the experiment could begin. "Do you remember Marcus?" he asked without any aggression in his voice or any change in body language. Godric’s eyes flew open and he pulled Eric closer, burying his face in Eric's neck as if attempting to hide himself. Eric tried not to let Godric see the hope growing in his smile at his reaction. "All right, all right. You're safe," he murmured to the boy.
Eric walked out of the room with Godric following closely behind. Both Isabel and Pam were waiting impatiently. "He remembers his very early life… or at least his maker," Eric announced. "But it doesn't help to stand around. What if with every second that goes by he loses more and more?"
"Or what if he gains more?” Isabel argued. “We just don't know what we are dealing with here. I've got all my people looking for the witch, but until we hear anything, I think we should try Sookie."
Pam looked between the two older vampires. "Do you want me to call Bill?" she asked her maker, being very careful not to take sides in this.
Eric felt Godric behind him, clinging to the fabric of his clothes again, and the Viking allowed it. He did not want to break the fragile trust they had guilt for anything. Eric had a feeling it was crucial to healing. All this meant, of course, that he could not leave Godric easily. Eric had to leave it up to Isabel's 'people'.
"Whatever you think will work," he grumbled, and Isabel nodded. Pam, ever loyal, walked off to make that phone call. Godric clung more tightly to Eric. They had mentioned his maker's name twice already, and Godric was now convinced the vampire was going to pop out when he least expected it.
"I know how difficult it is for you to see him like this," Isabel gave Eric a sympathetic look. "But I believe Godric is the strongest vampire I have ever encountered and he will get through this." She tried to reassure Eric as she glanced at the boy clinging to him. She smiled sadly. "He is awfully cute like this. I don't think I've ever seen him touch anyone, much less cuddle with them."
Eric frowned. Cute was the perfect word for it, sure, but he could not focus on that. "He isn't like this normally." He told her nothing she didn't already know. "Not even with me. He favors more distant displays of affection... I cannot say I mind this change. But I would give up anything to have him back. I would risk my life," he told her with strict honesty.
"I know you would, but it will not come to that. I never saw Godric passionate about anything except when he spoke of you,” Isabel confessed honestly. “Stan was always trying to get into Godric's pants… I think he had a thing for young boys, considering his human partners, but Godric always refused him. When Stan finally gathered up the nerve to ask him why, Godric told him nobody could beat a Viking in the bedroom and he wouldn't settle for second best. The look on Stan's face was priceless. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard," she told him, smiling at the memory.
Eric dropped his eyes to the floor. It felt strange to be speaking of Godric as if he were gone forever. "I did not know that about Stan. I'm afraid I'll never think of him the same way again. Or ever let him near Godric." He leaned heavily against the wall as he smiled sadly. "Why didn't he come to me then? Why did he spend all those years away from me, if he still wanted me?" he asked quietly, as if he did not want others to hear. He had asked Godric the same question, of course, but he wanted to hear Isabel's side of the story. Although loyal to Godric, he knew she would tell him things his maker would not have.
Isabel was quiet for a moment as she thought about what she should say. "I think he truly believed you were better off without him. He was really hurting, Eric. The others couldn't tell since he'd always been distant, but I could tell he missed you. There were a few times when I thought about contacting you, he had me so worried," she told him quietly.
Eric felt the weight of regret on his shoulders. He should have worked harder to seek Godric out. Godric never released him, but Eric was sure that even if he had severed all ties, Eric would not have felt any less of a connection to him.
Before Eric could say anything more, however, Pam walked towards them in a huff. She was clearly at her wit’s end with the humans in her care. "Bill, Sookie, Jessica, and the Stackhouse boy are all here. I sat them in the living room for now," Pam told her elders. "I arranged for a couple of meals on legs for you. They are in the guest bedroom upstairs," she told her maker, knowing that he had not fed yet tonight. She knew that sometimes Eric needed to be reminded to take care of himself in situations such as this.
The Viking rolled his eyes. He felt that whenever Sookie was dragged into a situation, things only got worse. The human was too curious for her own good. "What is this, a party? Why is the young one here?" There was no reason Jessica should attend this. Too many people would make Godric nervous.
He knew Sookie was close. He could feel it in his blood, and he could feel her concern for Godric, as well. He knew that the old Godric would not enjoy seeing the two of them together, and Eric thought it would be interesting to see if he remembered why.
Eric turned to his child who was wearing a helpless look on her face. "Pam, I need you to take care of Fangtasia in my absence. Keep an eye out for suspicious ones. I will know if you are in danger." It was not voiced as a command. Instead, his eyes gazed into hers affectionately. Usually, he would need Pam beside him, if only for comfort. He knew, however, that she was needed elsewhere, and he could not take care of Godric and her at the same time. She was safer at Fangtasia, anyway. "As for the humans… Godric may have them; I want to see if he remembers how to take a victim. I want to see how he acts. And I cannot give enough of my blood to him," Eric turned to Isabel to explain.
Pam opened her mouth as if to argue, because she knew her rightful place was with her maker. Yet she recognized the sternness in Eric’s eyes and voice and she knew it was best to let him have his way. This time. "Yes, Eric," she sighed, and exchanged with him a look that said everything before she walked away.
Godric could sense that there were more beings in the house now and it was making him very uncomfortable. The scent of them came from all directions. He clung to Eric as he inhaled the air around him deeply. One of the humans here with them was not entirely pure. There was something strange in her scent, something magical and deep and enticing.
Eric felt the tension rise in Godric's body, and he turned around to face his broken maker. "Are you hungry, Godric?" he asked, expecting no answer in return. "Come, I think you will like this." He slipped his hand gently into his maker’s and led him down the hall towards the scent of humans. Two adult men, Godric's senses told him.
Eric walked into the room with his maker behind him. The humans were unconscious, though he debated whether he should wake one up and offer Godric a live kill. He turned to his maker and gestured towards the men.
"They are for you."
Godric looked around the room curiously before his eyes landed on the two men laid out on the bed. He looked back at Eric fearfully, he remembered his maker forcing him do awful things with human men. Is that what Eric wanted him to do now? His shaky hands went to his shirt and he started to undo the buttons clumsily.
Eric's eyes widened. He quickly stopped him, buttoning them back up quickly. "No, no Godric." He shook his head. "Here, I'll show you." He dropped down to his knees and tilted one of the men's necks, exposing a large vein that still pumped with life as his fangs exposed with hunger. He bit into the man, swallowing a few long gulps before tearing himself away. He looked up at Godric and motioned for him to do the same.
Godric watched Eric curiously. Then he crossed his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes at his companion defiantly.
Eric glared. Godric was very much like a child who did not want to eat his vegetables. "What's wrong? Come on, before the wound heals," Eric tried, the smell of blood doing nothing to calm his frustration. "Godric," he said his maker’s name sternly when he did not budge.
Instead of cowering at the rise in his voice, Godric growled back at him, and Eric almost jumped. There was a time when a growl from his maker had been the only thing that would set him straight. He supposed a child never quite out grew the fear of that sound from his or her maker, no matter what happened.
Eric did not have time to play games, however. He sighed in defeat and turned to almost violently sink his teeth into the unconscious body. He almost felt sorry that this man should be unfortunate enough to be the helpless victim of his frustration. He felt the man’s pulse come to a stop and moved onto the other, drunk and full off the blood of the first man but knowing he had to drink for two.
Godric smirked when he got his way and he watched Eric feed from the men. He kneeled down beside Eric as he attacked the second man. He was just now beginning to realize the difference between Eric and himself as he watched the taller vampire feed from the man as though he were starving.
At last, Eric felt the second life slip away. These men had most likely been trying to steal from the house and captured by the werewolves patrolling the area, yet he would not have cared if they were decent people with strict morals. Eric was never one to care for such things, and Godric had never been one to enforce it in the past.
Eric lifted his head, licked the blood away from his mouth and offered Godric none. "At least one of us is fed," he sighed. He rose to his feet and straightened his clothes. He was not sure what Godric's lack of thirst meant, if it meant anything at all.
When Eric rose to his feet, so did Godric. Sensing that his companion was upset, the boy pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around his waist. He wanted to kiss Eric. He wanted to taste the human’s blood in his mouth.
Eric looked sadly down on him. His hand smoothed his lover's short hair and massaged the nape of his neck comfortingly. He could no longer stay mad at him when they were close like this, and Eric could almost fantasize in that brief moment that his maker remembered him. "You used to have longer hair. You hated me playing with it, or trying to comb it out with my hands. One day, it was no longer in style to have mud for hair and you cut it off..." Eric smiled. “You did it to look older, but you only looked younger. I did not have the heart to tell you.”
Godric purred under Eric's touch. He found his voice comforting even if he did not understand the language. He leaned forward on Eric's chest as he continued to pet him. Finally, Eric’s hand moved to grasp his maker's and gently led him with him out of the room.
Eric found the others waiting for him in the parlor. "Someone needs to dispose of the bodies. He didn't want them, but they seemed like such a waste," he told Isabel.
"I'll have someone take care of it," she said, taking charge and signaling for a minion to do as Eric asked. "I didn't tell them everything, just that Godric lost some of his memory,” she whispered. The less information the other’s had, the safer they would be.
She cleared her throat and spoke louder as she gestured towards the only stranger in the room. Godric eyed her curiously from behind his child. "Eric, this is Amelia Broadway. She is an old friend of Godric's from New Orleans. She is a very talented witch."
The girl nodded in Eric's direction, knowing enough about vampires to know they did not shake hands. "I've never met another vampire that knew as much about magic as Godric did…. uh… does,” she corrected herself. “I always came to him when I needed help and he never turned me away. It will be an honor to return the favor."
As far as Eric was concerned, this 'witch' would have to earn his own trust, let alone Godric's. She looked about the same age as Sookie and he doubted how much wisdom she could have gained in her short, human life. He let go of Godric's hand, feeling rather ridiculous holding onto it.
"He's very old. Much older than any witch. Of course he would know more than you," Eric answered back rudely. "If you are a witch, then you can reverse whatever has been done to him. Otherwise, leave now; you are worthless to me. He will not remember you."
"Eric, she is trying to help us," Isabel interrupted sternly, although she knew the only one who held any sway over Eric's behavior was currently out of commission.
Amelia shook her head at Eric. "The telepath will need my magic to get past Godric's mental shields. All vampires have natural shields, and the older they are, the harder they are to get past. In fact, we will probably need you to get past Godric's because he's not going to trust anyone else. I think putting a sleeping spell on him would be easiest… especially since he shot out of here like a cannon as soon as you let go of his hand."
As soon as Eric let go of him, Godric had snuck away. Not knowing where to go, he headed straight for the bedroom and locked the door behind him before diving under the bed. There was no way he was staying in that room with a witch, a fairy-blooded human, and vampire strangers. He did not have to understand their language to know they were discussing him and his fate.
Eric almost tripped as he ran out of the room after him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on finding his maker with his mind. He snapped his eyes open again as he ran to the bedroom, and growled when he rattled the door handle and found it locked.
"Godric!" He screamed, forgetting that Godric was only a frightened child. "Let me in or I am going to knock down this door!"
Eric’s mind was swimming. Had Godric remembered the witch that had done this to him and run away in fear? What if he remembered that the same way he remembered the memory of his abusive maker? There was no way Eric was going to let that bitch near Godric. She had already done more harm than good.
"I really don't want to have to do this. Isabel put in a lot of effort to restore this little love nest for us, but you are giving me no choice," he shouted angrily at the door, knowing it would understand just as much as Godric would. With little effort, Eric took a deep breath and elbowed the door. He knocked it off the hinges as it crashed into splinters on the floor.
Eric saw a toe poke out from under the bed skirt and he gently lowered himself to the ground. He had almost expected Godric to storm out from nowhere and yell at him for vandalizing such a nice gesture from Isabel and making Eric shrink in shame, and he was disappointed when he was greeted only with silence. He lifted the bed skirt slowly and suppressed his frustration. He forced his expression to soften with love and gentleness as he met his maker's wide, grey, feral eyes. "Godric, come to me," he whispered, trying to keep the instructions simple.
Godric narrowed his eyes when he sensed the other vampire’s frustration that he was supressing. It was like being lied to, in a way, and Godric hissed at Eric as he tried to move farther away from him.
That was when Eric lost it. Something paper-thin inside of him finally snapped and he closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands as the tears began to fall with a will of their own. Freshly fed, it only made them fall more thickly, faster, and bloodier. And Eric was just too overwhelmed to care.
He remembered the last time he had cried. His tears had fallen then just as freely as they did now. After spending years with his maker, Eric had become an expert at hiding his emotions behind a defensive brick wall. Pam, as close as she was to the Viking, had never seen tears on his face. Only Godric had seen them that night, along with Sookie, only because her curiosity had gotten the better of her.
Godric could now not remember that it was always Eric's tears that broke something inside of him, but it was still instinctual to reach out and comfort him. He did not hesitate as he crawled out of his hiding place and wrapped his arms around Eric.
Eric could not see through the blood staining his eyes, but Godric's smell and warm body wrapped around him was all he needed. He relaxed, letting himself become engulfed with the essence of his maker, and he inhaled to fill his senses with him. Godric smelled like home and love and comfort and everything that made the existence of an immortal worth something.
Eric realized then that there was something in Godric that still loved him. Their bond did not care for time or struggle or pain, and it ran deeper than witchery. It was swimming in their blood, etched permanently onto their souls.
Godric began humming quietly in an attempt to get Eric to settle down. The words of the tune slowly came back to him as he remembered his own mother singing to him at night.
Hò-bhan, hò-bhan, Goiridh òg O
Goiridh òg O, Goiridh òg O
Hò-bhan, hò-bhan, Goiridh òg O
Gu'n dh'fhalbh mo ghaoil 's gu'n dh'fhàg e mi…
He sang so quietly that only someone with vampiric hearing would be able to hear, and only if they were as close as he and Eric were. The lullaby described a legend that if you left your baby unattended, the fairies would steal them away and leave a changeling in their place.
In their early years, Eric would often catch his maker humming or singing in languages that were long since dead. Often when they lay together, naked under the thick animal furs and tangled up in each other, the humming would lull Eric to sleep as if it were a spell of its own.
The sound of his maker’s voice soothed Eric's wild nerves, and when he closed his eyes – they were back in that cave a thousand years ago, sated after making love over and over again on the soft fur. He once again was the child in his maker's arms, he was home.
Godric ran his hands through Eric's hair. Their peace did not last long, however, and soon Isabel barged into the room. She took in the sight before her and threw her hands up in the air. She was already on edge with worry and she could not afford to lose Eric to a breakdown.
"All right, that's it!" she huffed, walking over to them. "Eric, forgive me. And Godric, if you ever remember this, then you can berate me when the time comes." She lifted Godric up and away from Eric, and immediately the boy screamed like the wild child he was and tried to bite and scratch as much as he could. "Eric, go get cleaned up. You can play good cop and get him settled- ow!" She screamed when Godric got in a good bite. Remembering that Godric did not know the limits of his own strength, she gripped him tighter and marched him back into the living room.
Eric did not lift his head. He could not stand to see the his betrayal reflected in Godric's face. It would kill him for sure, but for Godric's own sake, he wiped his face clean of bloody tears and stood straight with strength he did not have.
He stared down at the shattered wood by his feet. The broken door had been original, just like most of the house, and could never be replaced. Yet Eric was far more concerned with preserving whatever was left of his maker, and could not care about a stupid piece of wood.
He wasted no more time and hurried to the room echoing with his maker's cries. He knew the others would see him defeated. They would see the loss of hope and the all-encompassing sorrow written on his face. Yet when he walked through the door and saw the witch approach Godric, his eyes were suddenly sharp and focused and glaring threateningly in her direction. "I don't want her near him. No more spells," he demanded of Isabel who had her hands full of a struggling Godric.
"Eric, Godric isn't just going to be still and let Sookie enter his mind," the Spanish vampire tried to reason as she attempted to get a better grip on the boy. "Try and get him calmed down," she ordered as she handed off Godric to Eric. The older vampire immediately tried to climb up and into Eric's arms, wrapping his legs tightly around Eric's waist and burying his face into his neck.
"Well, that seemed to work," Amelia mused. "If Eric can keep him calm enough for Sookie to get into his mind, you won't need me anyway."
Eric was surprised when Godric did not fight him too. "Shh, Godric," he whispered as he sat down in an overstuffed arm chair and he felt his maker relax. He saw Jessica, just as wide-eyed and child-like as his maker whimpering in his arms. This was no place for a fledgling. She was too young to know the true gravity of this situation.
Although it pained him, Eric maneuvered Godric’s body so that he was facing the others. Isabel had taken a seat across from them and was trying her best to get her hair back to some semblance of order. Godric growled at her, and the sound made her freeze and look over at him.
"I know he doesn't remember how strong he is, but that sound still scares the hell out of me," she confessed. There were only a few times that she had heard that sound, and luckily, never directed towards her. Still, it had a way of making everyone in the room feel like they should beg for forgiveness.
Eric knew the feeling, more than Isabel could ever know. A maker's growl was enough to send his child into an instant state of submission. Now, however, Eric had to be the strong one. "He doesn't mean it. He has a great deal of affection and respect for you," Eric told her honestly, as if that could somehow suffice as an apology on behalf of Godric.
Isabel was quick to nod, but such things did not matter now. Eric looked over at Sookie who was stared transfixed. He could sense the girl’s sympathy for Godric the same way he had felt it on the rooftop. "Well?" His strong voice shook everyone in the room.
Amelia kept her distance. "Sookie, you said you could focus better if you were touching the person you are trying to read. I think you should do that, but you need to be touching both Godric and Eric. Think of Eric as your conduit to get inside Godric's mind. Eric, just relax and send relaxing thoughts through your bond with your maker. Hopefully it will let his guard down enough for Sookie to get in."
Sookie moved to sit on the floor in front of Eric and Godric's chair. Godric eyed her warily and his grip on Eric's shirt tightened. Eric allowed for the blonde to place a hesitant hand on his maker’s knee, but when she reached to put her other hand on Eric, Godric growled warningly at her.
"At least his maker's instincts seem to be intact." Isabel mused.
Eric remarked in his mind that she did not really have to touch him to do this. His blood was in her veins, but Isabel did not know that. He wondered if that was why Godric had growled. He wondered if he could sense that, even now. "Shh, Godric," Eric soothed again, and when Sookie once again touched Eric, Godric was silent.
After a few suspenseful minutes of nothing, a faint scent of magic permeated the air, and Godric knew the witch was up to something. “It’ll just relax him further,” the witch explained to Eric as Godric felt his eyelids growing heavy. It was then that he felt the fairy half-breed inside his head.
His mother… with her long, dark hair and laughing grey eyes. She was teaching him the magic of her people as a little boy. “Our family is special, my son, we see what others cannot. We see what they refuse to see…” She had been the witch of their village, but with his people, magic was sacred, and so was she.
Godric at thirteen chasing after a little red-headed girl with plaits in her hair and tattoos on her skin. He tackled her and she kissed him chastely on the lips. “When we are married, I promise to kiss you every day,” she vowed, smiling up at him. She never got to keep that promise, because the next winter brought red snow as she lay bleeding to death on it. Godric had tried to save her, but he had not been strong enough, and the men had laughed when he tried. They stopped laughing when Godric slit one of the warrior’s neck open….
The scene changed, and he was running through an ancient city, finally escaping slavery. The slave brand still burning painfully on his right shoulder, but he could not worry about that now. He was being stalked by a monster and he knew he would have to fight for his life once again…
The monster’s name was Marcus, and Godric hated him. He made him do things, horrible things with hateful men. But there was a light in the darkness. A girl with hair the color of the sunshine he could no longer see. Her name was Adora and she taught him how to read and write and she called him her brother. One night when the monster was raping her, Godric could not take it anymore, and plunged a stake through his heart. Adora would go on to become the first Queen of their kind, and she would take him as her king…
Sookie pulled away with a gasp and Godric seemed to freeze in Eric's hold as the whole room was silent.
The visions came to Eric at first like a dream, warm with the sunlight and the innocence of childhood, but quickly became hellish nightmares. He had not expected to get sucked in along with Sookie and Godric. So intense was the experience that Eric was sweating heavily by the time they dissipated and Sookie broke physical contact with them both. Godric, awake now, had his eyes open wide in fear.
"That's enough," Eric growled, clutching Godric to himself protectively.
Those memories had been almost been too painful to recall. To have them invade his mind was violating, and as curious and fascinated as Eric was, he knew they should have remained locked up and forgotten. What was worse, it had all been for nothing.
Still in Eric’s lap, Godric clutched his aching head. It felt like it had been split open with a hammer. "Hurts," he spoke quietly, and although his voice was harsh from disuse, the word was spoken in modern English. Eric and the others instantly snapped to attention.
Eric shot up when he heard the sound of his maker’s voice and Godric fell to the floor as a result. "You can speak?! Say something else!" Eric exclaimed in his excitement.
Godric was visibly startled. "My head… my head hurts," he repeated. His English was broken and his accent was heavy, as if he had only just learned the language. He knew he was not quite himself, and somehow through the haze of confusion, he realized there were large parts of his history missing. That must be what all the fuss was about.
"Do you remember me?" Eric asked impatiently, his eyes lit up with hope.
Godric looked at Eric sadly and shook his head. "I wish I could… I know we share blood, but I do not know how that came to be…"
He was so close, yet so far away, and Eric was beginning to lose it. "You need to remember more. You cannot just remember a tiny fraction of your life! You have thousands of years missing!" he cried.
Godric was pretty sure Eric was attempting to force the memories out of him. That, along with the shouting, was enough to make him grab his head in pain again. "I am sorry!" Godric insisted.
Eric’s fists were clenched in anger and he glared at Isabel. "It didn't work! Where’s that witch who did this to him?!”
"We are looking for her, I told you that," Isabel sighed, still focused on Godric.
Eric’s fangs were drawn as if he were ready to rip someone apart. "He remembers what Sookie brought out of him, but what good does that do?!"
"Calm down, Eric," Isabel said, standing up. "Excuse us for a moment," she told the other occupants in the room. She dropped to her knees in front of Godric who was curled up on the floor and clutching his head. "Godric?" she asked softly.
Eric quickly took notice of his maker’s posture on the floor and panicked. "What is wrong with him?"
Isabel pushed Eric gently to the side so she could get a better look at Godric. At this rate, she was going to have to tie Eric up in another room to get him to calm down.
"Head hurts," Godric said again. Eric knew it was not like his maker to complain, especially about pain.
"At least he's speaking," Isabel said quietly as she looked him over. "Sookie breaking into his mind is probably why his head hurts. That can't be a pleasant experience," she told Eric. "Darling, would you like some blood?" Godric shook his head no, and she frowned and turned back to Eric. "See if he'll feed from you, otherwise we will have to get him to drink some of that phony Japanese shit."
Eric was trying to hold himself together, but he was coming apart in too many pieces. "What would blood do? He doesn't need it anymore," he muttered hopelessly.
“Just try, Eric,” Isabel chastised. Eric sighed, and Isabel stood and walked to the door to give them privacy. "If you need anything I'll be right down the hall."
"I don't want any blood," Godric said quietly when Isabel had left. He remembered how much he had taken from Eric before and knew that he needed it more. Godric could tell that this vampire, whom the female had called Eric, was younger than he was.
Eric almost felt hurt that Godric was refusing him, "I want to give you blood. I need to feel close to you. It might help you remember." Now, he was the one begging.
"You are exhausted," Godric pointed out. "Taking blood from you would only make you worse."
He wanted to feel that connection too, but not at the expense of Eric's health. He tentatively reached out his hand to cup the blond vampire’s cheek in his palm, "How long have I loved you?"
Eric knew Godric could finally feel the weight of his own years, but for all he knew, Eric could be ten days old. Did he even love him now? Was their love learned, developed, or truly instinctual? Did it run through their bodies, as tangible as their blood? Would it survive even this?
Eric did not want to know the answer. "Don't ask me that if you do not remember," he whispered.
Godric ran a hand through Eric's hair soothingly, somehow knowing that always worked best to comfort him, "This hurts you... me being like this. And it hurts me to know you are hurting. How can I make you feel better?"
Eric shook his head hopelessly. "Do you still love me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, and if Godric had been human he would not have heard him at all, "Or am I only a stranger?"
"I don't remember you, but I know I love you. You are a part of me, I can sense that…" Godric answered him honestly.
“You are my maker; I am your child,” Eric explained quickly, “The only one you ever made.”
Godric was visibly surprised, so much so that he was speechless. For a moment, he could only stare at Eric, even as the Viking avoided his eyes. He should have known, really, and he supposed a deep part of him did all along.
Eric sighed in despair when Godric did not respond, "I want you back. My life is not worth living without you. I haven't saved you… I've failed you.”
"You have saved me. I am here, am I not? Just not all of me," Godric tried to reassure him as he leaned forward and whispered into Eric’s hair, his accent becoming thinner and thinner, "You have taken care of me. You have not failed me."
It was his maker's voice that Eric was finally hearing. It was his tone, wise with age, yet still lacking the memory of most of his years. It was his smell, the feel of his skin... and none of that had changed. Eric lifted his head then, his eyes rimmed with red as he nuzzled his maker's face with his lips. He kissed every reachable surface of skin, needing to taste him, until his lips landed on the boy's own mouth chastely. He wanted to be inside him, to have him and give Godric all of himself in return. He needed to be close to him.
Godric purred under Eric's kisses. "Do not deny me again. I do not think I could take it," he confessed against Eric's lips, his awakened teenage hormones raging through his body.
Eric did not think he could take it either as he forced a deep, passionate kiss onto Godric's lips. Now that Godric could speak, now that he had been domesticated from a feral animal to a boy of speech, he felt almost reachable... he was Godric finally, yet only a small part of him still.
"How did I like to make love with you?" Godric asked earnestly.
A slight smile played on Eric’s lips. "You liked to ride me," Eric admitted, "You liked knowing you had me surrendered, and I liked when you took control. But I don't care how I have you now…" he whispered as he practically pounced on the smaller boy and lay on top of him.
Godric spread his legs so that Eric could be closer to him. Eric clumsily fumbled with their clothes, half-ripping, half-tugging the cloth away from their limbs as if his life depended on it. Godric fought to free himself from his modern garments just as frantically. Eric nuzzled his lips before he plunged into his mouth again, playing with this allowance of dominance. When he remembered something, he lifted his lips only a fraction of an inch from his maker's.
"I'll hurt you. Your body is chaste…" he explained.
Godric groaned when Eric pulled away from him. They were finally nude and it was difficult for him to think straight. His eyes drifted up and down the Viking’s body, learning it for the first time all over again. "Hurt? I don't care," he dismissed quickly.
The Viking kissed him then, this time slashing his tongue purposefully on Godric's teeth and allowed a few drops of blood to fall into his maker’s mouth. "If I have to remind you of every second of our past together, I will spend another century doing so," he vowed earnestly.
"A century is a long time, but I have a feeling it would be worth it." Godric reached up to brush Eric's hair out of his eyes. He could never remember anyone being this gentle with him, this loving. "It's no wonder I love you," he whispered.
Overcome, Eric's eyes brimmed with red, even as his body hardened on top of the boy. "You will stay with me, right?" He did not mean to sound as though he were begging. Yet what if this Godric was different? After not remembering thousands of years of his life, would he still want to stay with his child? Would he wish to leave, to explore the world all over again with his newly found child’s curiosity? He would keep him with him by force if he had to...
"I am not going anywhere," Godric put Eric’s worries to rest. And then, nothing could hold Eric back as he dropped his head to encompass Godric's mouth in a kiss so rough that when their fangs clashed together he could taste his own blood spilling onto his maker's tongue.
Later that night, while they both lay sated and wrapped around each other in bed, Eric’s hands were still restless as they traveled over Godric's skin. It was if they were discovering each other for the first time. Eric had missed him too much, and yet he still did not have all of him; Godric was a puzzle with missing pieces. Yet when they made love, Eric could have sworn that those pieces found one another, if only for a brief moment.
"You never had enough stamina to fuck more than once a night, but maybe I can change that now,” Eric teased despite how heavy his heart still felt.
Godric seemed deep in thought for a moment before he spoke. "Maybe I just wanted to make sure you always came back for more," he suggested with a smile. He could not imagine that with his hormones, he could have had that problem, but perhaps over the years Godric had somehow learned to control his libido. Yet now, he was half-hard just thinking about Eric being inside of him again.
It dawned on Eric then that perhaps Godric was right. In their early days, Godric would often playfully deny him even if the Viking knew he wanted it just as much. It would only make Eric try harder to seduce Godric until he was practically begging for it and chasing after him like an animal in heat. In the past, Eric had thought that it was nothing but a power play, an exercise of control over him. Now, it made sense that it was something more.
Suddenly, he was overcome again and dropped his head to his maker's neck. "I'm going to reverse the spell," Eric vowed, but he was not sure if he was trying to convince Godric or himself.
"It will be all right," Godric soothed his worried child, rubbing his gentle fingers up and down Eric's back.
Eric shook his head into his maker's neck. His anxiety was too deeply rooted to be caressed away with even the most loving and reassuring of touches. He pulled the blood-stained covers of the bed up to their necks and wished to be swallowed up in them. Godric did not seem all that concerned that he was missing huge pieces of his life, and it puzzled Eric. Perhaps he was just trying to be strong for Eric, or perhaps the loss of his memory was a heavy burden lifted from his soul. Ignorance was bliss…or was it?
Eric wished he could shelter Godric from the bad memories and shower him with only the good ones, as rare as they were. "Would you want to remember? Do you regret relearning what you've re-learned?" Eric whispered.
"I do not regret it… I am simply trying not to think about it." Godric frowned. He was almost afraid of asking questions about what he did not know. "I think all I would really like to remember is my past with you. But I know that is not realistic."
Eric nuzzled his maker in the cocoon of warmth. He inhaled the smell of both of their scents mingled after love-making and he tried to think of a way to summarize their life in death together. "You are my maker. I live to serve you," he whispered, because it was all he could say.
"I swore that I would never make a vampire. You must have been very special," he told Eric sincerely, studying the features of his face again. “And I must have loved you very much to earn so much loyalty, love, and devotion from you. I have a feeling you were my first love and my last…”
Thinking about it made Eric want to weep. Yet he knew that for once, he had to be the strong one in the relationship, even though he desperately wanted to be the child again. "I was a Viking and I was dying after a battle. You had been watching me and came to me like Death."
"I killed you," Godric said sadly, "I killed you… and you still stayed with me?" Godric remembered his own maker and did not understand why Eric did not resent him for stealing away what could never be given back.
Eric furrowed his brows in confusion and shook his head. "No… you didn't kill me. You gave me life. Why would you say that? I was already dying when you turned me… I had a fever from a deep sword wound. You saved me. I wanted you," he explained, desperate for Godric to understand.
"You wanted me?" Godric asked, as if he did not believe him.
Eric kissed his lips reassuringly. He did not have the heart to tell Godric that he killed his friends that night, Eric's loyal companions and fellow warriors, without so much as a second thought. "You gave me a choice, a choice I don’t think you ever had. You gave me the life I wanted, if you hadn't, I would have died. I wasn't ready to die and you knew that…"
Before Godric could argue further, both vampires heard a gentle knock on the door frame as Isabel walked over the splintered wood littering the floor and into the bedroom. Godric, a little alarmed, hid himself further under the covers of the bed.
"You do remember we have guests… they now have to stay the day since it is so close to morning," she said as Godric tucked his head into Eric's neck, embarrassed that others might have heard them together.
Eric was amused, maybe, but not embarrassed. And as far as he was concerned, if Isabel did not have any more information about the witch, she should leave them alone. "Fine, if they must. Now leave us alone if you don’t have good news," Eric snapped. He was still at the end of his nerves and he was still taking it out on the ones he relied upon for help. He knew Godric would not have tolerated his mood if he was of sound mind, and perhaps that was also why Eric continued to grumble.
Isabel rolled her eyes, not at all intimidated. "I’m just informing you of your houseguests. And don't forget your door is broken," she reminded them, as she shot Eric a pointed look before turning and walking out.
"Is she gone?" Godric asked quietly as he peeked out from his hiding place. At least Godric's modesty was back in place, Eric thought to himself. "You were not very polite to her. She is doing whatever she can to help, and you are taking advantage.”
Eric shrugged childishly. "I'm not a very polite vampire," he admitted with a little bit of stubbornness and a wicked grin threatening his lips.
"So you're just nice to me then?" Godric asked with a raised eyebrow.
Eric pressed his face in his lover’s collarbone, "Pretty much…yes." In his opinion, as long as he was a relatively obedient child to Godric, who cared if he were a disrespecting, manipulative jerk to everyone else?
Godric smiled into Eric's hair. "I bet you are a handful to keep up with. Have I not raised you well?" he teased.
Eric groaned and squirmed in his arms. “You liked it about me. It is part of my irresistible charm. And I behave for you… most of the time," he insisted.
"I'm sure you do." Godric was not convinced at all. His hands, which had been rubbing up and down the length of Eric's back, came to rest on Eric's ass before he gave it a teasing squeeze.
Eric flashed his fangs arrogantly and moaned. "I do," he insisted. He may not always behave, and especially now when his maker was not yet himself, and he could get away with anything. Yet Eric was always loyal and loving and protective, and was that not what mattered above all? "But you spoiled me too much in my young years. It's not my fault."
Eric fell in love all over again with the sound of Godric’s gentle, deep laugh then. It was calming to his nerves and he could not help but smile with him. "I'm glad I spoiled you," Godric decided, his hand resting on Eric's waist. “You, my prince, were meant to be spoiled.”
The Viking blinked away tears then and prayed to the Gods that his maker did not take notice. He nuzzled his neck and pressed his own awakened erection between his lover’s still-open thighs, feeling Godric’s own need answering back. "And you were meant to be my mate."
Godric groaned and tilted his head to the side to give his lover better access to his neck. "I don't want them to hear us," he admitted quietly.
Eric was desperate to keep himself distracted and to keep from remembering how much he had failed his maker. He wanted to make love to Godric until Godric had no choice but to remember him, until he could no longer deny the years of love between them. He wanted to hear Godric cry out his name and he wanted his maker’s body to take him with the same yielding familiarity that it always had. Eric knew Godric’s body knew him, recognized him, but his mind was lagging. Eric spread his lover's legs farther apart and nudged at his opening with two fingers. "It's our house. I don't care if they hear us," he growled.
"Eric..." Godric began, but gave up when he felt those fingers breech him. "Not in here, then… In there.” He pointed to the bathroom. At least they would be able to shut the door and have the illusion of privacy.
Eric shook his head impatiently and slid his two fingers inside Godric’s entrance. It was healed as tightly as it had been before. "There's nowhere to lie down there. I want to make love in the bed," he insisted stubbornly. Everyone in the house had already heard them from the bedroom, so why worry about it now?
"What are you, an old man?" Godric teased, trying to work at Eric's pride to get what he wanted. He did not know for sure, but he had a feeling that was the best way to get to his child. "You could take me against the wall with my legs wrapped around your waist. Please, Eric?"
The Viking had to admit, he liked that idea, but he never gave in easily, even if he secretly wanted to. "And what if I refuse and take you here and now?" Eric threatened, and wondered if Godric remembered how much stronger he was than his child. Before his memory loss, Godric would never stand for Eric challenging him so. He supposed he was trying to provoke that fire out of him.
"I'll be... I'll be very unhappy with you," Godric said, trying to sound threatening but failing as Eric continued to finger him.
Eric purposefully thrust his fingers roughly against his lover's prostate just to prove a point and watch his legs open up to him. "Just unhappy?" he challenged, still not giving in.
"I do not want them to hear…” Godric repeated, but whimpered when Eric's fingers found his prostate. "Very unhappy."
Eric growled and bit his maker’s shoulder over a mark that had already healed. "I don’t care," he insisted defiantly as his fingers worked him roughly. He wanted to push Godric to the edge, and not just in a sexual way.
"Well, I most certainly do not," Godric argued, and reached to grasp Eric's wrist. "Eric, stop," he told him. His voice was firmer this time, but still gentle and unsure and he made no move to pull Eric's hand away. Not knowing his own strength, he still thought he would not be able to.
Almost there, Eric thought to himself. He could feel the rising danger in his maker's tone, and in the past, it would have made Eric stop what he was doing and submit instantly. He would do that in good time, however, once Godric realized his strength again. "Mmmmm," he moaned loud enough for the others in the house to hear. He pressed his cock to his lover's entrance, nudging but not entering.
Godric growled, and moving faster than the human eye could see, he flipped them over with little effort until he was on top. He leaned over his child and hissed angrily. "I told you to stop," he demanded with all the superiority of a maker. He grabbed Eric's hands and pinned them at either side of his head, using enormous strength that he did not know he had.
Eric smiled up at him. It was like gaining another inch of his maker back. However, the sight of his maker lashing out with this much aggression instinctually caused his body to fall limp with submission. Even if Eric had tried to fight him, he would have failed. "See? You are strong. I will never overpower you," he whispered.
Godric blinked in confusion, but when he looked back at Eric, his fanged smile was predatory. Eric stared at his fangs, hypnotized, his own throbbing with the need to bite. "Really? So you have to do anything I ask?" Godric teased, leaning down to suck and nibble and explore his child’s broad, hairless chest.
Eric moaned and arched his back, his cock twitching with excitement. "Maybe…” he moaned stubbornly, his body still obedient underneath him. He bit back a grin and thrust his hips against his maker's. "There are... other places that can be sucked..." he tested bravely.
"Hmmm, yes, but that would be a reward, and you have not actually been very good, have you?" he asked, sucking a nipple into his mouth.
Eric moaned loud enough for even the humans in the house to hear, just to spite him. He clutched his hands into fists as they were still pinned down. "I may not have been very good, but I don't deserve to be tortured..." he protested.
"Is that what I am doing, torturing you?" Godric asked with mock pity as he kissed his way up Eric's chest and lifted his head to let his lips hover above his child’s. He let his hands slide down Eric’s muscular arms, and in a flash, he had leaped off of him and was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. "Come in here and I'll let you do whatever you want to me," he proposed with a mischievous grin, trying to entice his child.
Eric gasped, feeling only the harsh and sudden emptiness of being alone and naked on the bed when Godric was suddenly too far away. Even now, he is a tease, Eric thought to himself. He was an expert at getting what he wanted, and Eric, like always, was swept away and enslaved.
The blond vampire was after him in a flash. He growled, though it was the growl of a vampire who still knew his place and knew it well. "Whatever I want to you?" he challenged and pressed his body against his maker's.
"Whatever you want," Godric agreed as he wrapped his arms around Eric's neck. He trusted Eric, even if he did not remember him. His heart knew him, his body knew him, and that was what was important.
Even as his own needy erection pressed between them, Eric had a different idea. Godric trusted him, he was giving him control, but he wanted to give it right back. He wanted to taste him, to pleasure him, and to make him fall in love a second time. Eric dropped to his knees then and kissed, nibbled, and licked his way down Godric's chest. "I want to see how many times I can make you come before the sun rises," he whispered hot against his maker's thigh.
"That is quite a goal, my Viking," Godric mused as he reached for the bathroom door and shut it.
Eric nuzzled his thigh, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his maker's arousal before he licked up the length of him. Godric’s groan vibrated through both of their bodies. "They will still hear you… at least the vampires will," he teased, because it was true. It did not matter how many doors or rooms were between them.
Godric’s hands came to tangle in his lover’s hair. "Are you trying to make me angry again?" he smiled.
Eric grinned against his thigh, loving the feel of Godric's hand in his hair. "I'm trying to make you feel good," he insisted innocently, right before taking his maker's cock into his mouth and sucking hard. Wasting no time, Eric worked him hard, taking him into the very back of his throat and swallowing around him.
Godric kept one hand gripped tightly in Eric's hair, but the other hand flew up to stifle his cry. He bit into his hand to ensure his silence and soon the smell of blood permeated the air. Eric moaned around Godric's hardness and his fangs brushed against a vein as Eric worked him. He did not break the skin, but gave Godric some torture of his own.
Eric let his maker's cock fall from his mouth before he kissed the inside of his thighs teasingly, raking his fangs up the soft flesh there instead. "You can do anything you want to me and you choose to pleasure me?” Godric asked breathlessly, having forgotten that oxygen was not essential any longer. “I must have done some great thing to deserve you," he added quietly, blood dripping down his chin.
Eric allowed Godric to think that. He was not going to tell his maker otherwise. He would, instead, let him discover the secrets of his life on his own. There were many things, many secrets that Eric did not even know about his maker, and which might now be gone forever. Yet he did not want to think about that possibility: that Godric may never remember anything else at all.
Shaking off these plaguing thoughts, Eric stood up and licked the blood from his maker's chin as if he were grooming him like a cat. "The sun is coming soon. I want to be inside you again..." he whispered. And knowing that he was allowed to, Eric lifted his maker’s lithe body up against the wall. Godric wrapped his legs tightly around Eric's waist as a single red tear streamed down his face.
Scandinavia, year 930
He was a nervous wreck as he frantically paced the mouth of the cave, stirring up dirt and sending any other nocturnal creature scurrying away into the forest. It had been three days since he had decided to make a child, and that child had not woken yet. From what little he knew, it took three moons for an infant to wake, but they were the longest nights of the boy's immortal life.
After he had watched the Viking close his human eyes for the last time, the vampire had dug a deep hole and buried them both in the ground. He had slept with the body in the Earth, but he had been restless and thought of nothing but how dead the body next to him seemed. On the third night, he dug them out of the Earth and brought him to his cave, but his skin was chilled and he remained as lifeless as before. The boy had not been around a human colony in over a century, so he knew nothing of their comforts and luxuries, but he had made a soft pallet of straw on the ground and laid the man down there.
He glanced down impatiently at the dirt and blood covering his hands, and for the first time, the vampire worried about what a human man would think of him. Though covered with the same dirt and mud, the Viking was still well-groomed and dressed as proudly as he was himself. He could not trust that his child would not wake and run away from him the second he opened his new eyes, leaving the boy alone again.
He was scrubbing his face and hands in the small stream of running water that filtered through the inside of the cave when he thought he heard the man he had heard others call ‘Eric’ stir. The boy stood, and in a flash, he was leaning over Eric's body. A stray piece of blond hair had fallen over Eric's eyes and the boy reached out to brush it off his face, thinking that he had just been hearing things.
Emptiness was all Eric felt for what seemed like an eternity. When he first closed his eyes and began to dream as any human would, he felt himself drift off into something much deeper, and he thought that this is what it must feel like to be six feet under, to be eaten by the worms. This is what it must feel like to die and be nothing.
In the beginning of that nothingness, Eric refused to believe that it was the end, even when the dark void took him and he lay comatose for days. He refused to believe that his fate had led him to this empty, meaningless death. He knew that there was new life on the horizon, a future that was brighter and more passionate than anything he had experienced before. He could somehow remember that promise whispered to him from the bloody lips of a muddy, angel-faced demon.
Eric's body woke before his mind and the boy shivered as he felt his child swell with new life. When Eric felt himself drift back to consciousness, however, there was no brilliant, warm light to welcome him and no gleaming star over his head. Instead, he woke to the same darkness that he had been immersed in for three days.
His fingers curled into the rough earth underneath him, feeling himself finally grounded to something tangible. His chest heaved, but he found no solace in oxygen. His senses were suddenly alive, intensified and overpowering, even with his eyes still closed. He smelled the dampness of the earth like the strongest of perfumes, and he heard the gentle drip of water like hammering tools.
He could feel the presence of another, as if the very blood in his veins sensed it, as if it were a part of himself. That was when his eyes finally snapped open- directly meeting the gaze of Death himself. Yet, now, his body was telling him that he was something more.
He stared up at him in a mixture of confusion and amazement.
"You are finally awake," the boy said in Eric's native tongue, his accent one that Eric could not place. It was hard for the vampire keep the excitement out of his voice. He would not be alone now, at least not until his new companion left him.
Eric stared unashamedly at the boy’s mouth as he spoke. He swore that before the darkness took him, he had seen the fangs of a wolf in that mouth. He remembered how they pierced his skin and drank his life. He stared in wonder at that mouth that formed those accented, meaningless words. Those lips were sculpted to perfection, innocent in the youthful pout and erotic in their fullness...
"Are you hungry?" the boy asked, suddenly feeling unsure under Eric's intense stare. He did not think anyone had ever focused on him so intently before. He did not hesitate before he bit into his own wrist and offered it to Eric, hoping his child’s instinct would take over and he would not have to explain in words to Eric the price he paid for his new life.
Eric involuntarily flinched, trying to force himself up from the ground, but his body was too weak. He wanted it, more than he had ever wanted any wine or ale or woman, and his senses exploded in reaction to the exposure of blood. This thirst went beyond thirst; it was a raw and instinctual need as essential as breathing used to be.
It terrified him. Eric could not drink of this demon's blood - the demon that was cleverly robed in the body of a cherub. This boy was an incubus. "What beast are you!?" Eric snarled at the boy's wrist.
The vampire boy cocked his head to the side and looked at Eric. Slowly, he smiled, his lips stained with red. "I am your maker. Now drink. You need your strength."
His fanged mouth gleamed in the darkness and Eric could no longer deny him. This boy’s blood was the fountain of life and his parched veins thirsted to be filled. He wanted this boy close to him, so close that they joined as one. With little more hesitation, Eric felt the strange ache of his own newborn fangs forming as he lunged forward with energy he did not know he had, and attacked the boy's offered wrist. Latching onto the wound, Eric licked up every drop of spilt blood that was still red hot against his tongue.
The wound now clean, Eric was not sated. He became more than a man in those few moments. He was an animal driven by this primal need, and in that instant, he abandoned all sense, reason, and fear and sank his burgeoning fangs into the wound. He moaned when he tasted that first gush of blood flooding into his mouth and he could not swallow quickly enough. All his life, he had never been as hungry as he was now in death. His body strengthening, he sat up and held the boy’s wrist more intimately to himself as he drank greedily...
Eric had made love to many women before but he had never felt this level of intimacy, so profound in this sexless act. The strength flowing through his body was intoxicating and Eric's eyes closed to everything but the blood. The Viking leaned against the boy, wanting to consume him.
"All right, Viking, that is enough for now," the vampire chastised, pulling away. He almost did not trust himself not to give Eric everything.
When the boy tore away from him, Eric stared like a child who did not understand why he would be denied more treats. His mouth was red with blood as a precious drop fell to the ground of the cave. He stared down at it, hypnotized.
No, it could not be over yet... it was not enough, it just was not...
The thirst was still all consuming and Eric growled, a sound he had never made with such animalistic intensity before. He lunged himself at the boy, knocking him down onto his back and tearing his fangs back into his wrist for more.
The vampire maker was surprised at the audacity and strength of his child. His thousand-year-old blood and Eric's own will had made him a very strong vampire indeed, even for one this young. For a moment, the boy was torn between surrendering to his child’s ravaging hunger and writhing in pleasure under Eric's body, or chastising him for being so bold.
He knew Eric needed to learn, however. In one swift movement, the boy-vampire flipped them over so he was straddling Eric, his erection evident under the deerskin trousers. He tore his wrist away and growled in warning in Eric's face, "Do not make me to punish you."
Eric was shaken by this being's display of absolute, impossible power and his body instinctively submitted. It was then that he realized his body was not dead, but very much alive, and so was that of the boy's. He was hard, impossibly hard, like he had never been before. He glared up at the demon straddling his hips, feeling his weight so beautifully placed over his need. Eric had never loved men the way he loved women, but that was so unreachably far behind him now.
Eric swallowed nervously and lay perfectly still, "I do not understand. I am not dead. We are both alive."
"No, not alive. Yet, not dead. We drink the blood to live," the vampire-maker explained, and he decided he had better move off of Eric before something happened. He got up off of his child and looked down at Eric, wondering how he would accept his new life.
Eric knew his own erection was prominent under his thin, ripped trousers, but his gaze remained strong and angry at the boy. He had heard of old wives tales of creatures in the woods, not human, yet not animal, who feasted on the blood of the innocent under the light of the moon. Vampyre. He remembered the name from a distant place in his memory. Yet it was folklore, existing only to scare children into their beds at night. It could not be. Yet here he was, intimate with this monster.
"You mean we are nothing more than animated, dead flesh? We feast off of each other? You promised me life, and I wake surrounded by death!" he accused the boy, his own snarl startling him.
"Should I have let you die? To be eaten by the worms? It is life, just a different form of life. You now hold more power than you ever did as a human. Now you are the predator instead of the prey," the vampire said, squatting down in front of Eric so they were at eye- level with one another. "I could end it right now for you, if that was what you wish, to be truly dead and in the ground. Yet, you did not strike me as a coward while I watched you battling on the field," he proposed to his Viking.
Eric continued to glare, pretending not to be swayed by intimidation. It was hard to imagine that this boy, who looked little more than fourteen years of age, held his fate helplessly in his boyish hands. "I was never the prey. I have slain many men… I was a good warrior," Eric insisted.
The boy decided that perhaps stroking his child's ego would help with his new circumstances. "You are a beautiful fighter, it is true. It is why I chose you, because you stood out amongst the food..." he said, and in a blink of a human eye, he had Eric by the neck and was hauling him up off the ground. "But you were still food." He placed Eric back on his feet and let go of him, "And now I have made you a god."
Eric tried to gather himself clumsily, but he stepped back in fear as if he were in the presence of a wild animal. This boy who was not a boy was unpredictable, primitive, and savage. His eyes were feral, but he was terrifyingly intelligent.
Eric looked away from the vampire for the first time and it was harder than he imagined it would be. He slowly lifted his own hands and studied them in the dull light of the moon, and unsatisfied, he walked towards the mouth of the cave to get a better look. He realized that if he still had been human, he would not be able to see anything at all. His hands were paler, his skin harder, his nails glossy like glass. Fascinated, he stared at the veins in his wrist before he looked down at the rest of his newly transformed body. He slipped his tattered shirt off and looked down at his chest. The moon danced off of his toned muscles, yet his heart was still.
Beautiful, the boy echoed in his mind. His Viking was more than that. He looked like an ethereal being, reflecting the moonlight, as he watched him from the shadows of the cave. The boy felt like nothing more than a monster immersed in the dark, and he decided he would hide no longer.
He followed Eric out of the cave but kept his distance as he stared in fascination at his child’s body. His fingers itched to touch, his mouth to devour, but he held himself back by the sheer force of more than one thousand years of practice. "See? You were not meant to be rotting in the ground."
This shook Eric from his trance and he lifted his head to focus on the source of the voice. This boy was the embodiment of perfection in Eric’s eyes, and he stared unashamedly at his bare chest and shoulders and torso and neck. Eric raked his eyes across every marking decorating the boy's skin and across every toned muscle. His eyes looked over every inch of that was not covered with animal hide, and even still, he imagined the boy's legs and hips and the curve of his buttocks.
Was this boy once a boy? Mortal, as he had been? Questions flooded Eric's mind and he could not stop them from erupting out of him with a childlike curiosity. He felt the distance between them as miles when it was only inches, but it was still too much, as if his soul were too far out of his body. Eric wanted to breathe him, to feel him, to taste him again, to drink his healing elixir. He wanted to be inside of him.
"And someone made you the way you are? Why are you alone? Are there others like us?"
"The one that created me is dead. We can die, yet not from age or illness. Sunlight will burn you, and if you lose your head or are stabbed through the heart you could die," the vampire warned Eric. He laid a palm flat on his chest, feeling his heart thud no more. "There are others of our kind. Most live in groups or nests. I am alone because that is how I like to be. I was alone until you... if you choose to stay with me, that is."
Eric only half-listened to the boy's preaching and ignored his precautionary words. Death could not touch him now. Renewed with life, he felt invincible. He wanted to ask more, but he did not want to anger the boy. He had a feeling he did not want to see him angry.
He wondered what the boy would do if he tried to leave. Would he let him go? Eric almost tried then, just to see what would happen. But his body and his soul, what was left of it, ached at the thought of taking even one step away.
When Eric did not flee the first chance he got, the older vampire took this as a promising sign. He stepped closer to Eric, feeling the pull towards his child so strongly that he could not deny it any longer. "I promise you will not regret this," he vowed, a bit of teenage excitement leaking through in his tone. "I will teach you everything I know, and you may teach me, as well."
Eric stirred from the peace of sleep but instantly felt as if he had just stepped into a nightmare. He was alone on the soft pile of fur as he usually was when he woke. His maker had little patience to wait for him to rise, and although Eric never woke to him still sleeping beside him, the boy was always within sight after Eric opened his eyes, his cheeks pink with the heat of a fresh kill.
Yet this night, only weeks after he was born to death, Eric woke and the boy was gone. The Viking felt emptiness inside of him, as if he alone was the only living creature in the world. The despair was so deep Eric could almost feel his body dying its second death. He panicked, feeling lost and insecure and horribly unbalanced as he tried to feel for the boy with every newly heightened sense he possessed. Eventually, he found him seated on the ground, his marked back resting against a tree. Eric heaved a sigh of relief when he realized his maker had not left him, but the helpless feeling of sorrow did not fade, as if the emotion did not belong to himself. Looking at his maker, he felt agony, like an old wound.
He did not understand it. Every night, Eric woke expecting to have lost all lingering ties to his human nature. He woke expecting to be a beast, a ruthless killer. Yet night after night, he found his own mortal soul still intact. Night after night, he found his companion shockingly human.
Afraid to approach too close, Eric stood awkwardly beside him. "Are you hurt?" he asked lamely, knowing he was not.
"Go back to sleep. All is well," the vampire boy told Eric. Although he had not shown it, he had been so deep in thought that his child had actually managed to sneak up on him.
Eric was simply not satisfied with that answer. He could tell there was something dark and deeply-rooted inside of him, tormenting the boy. He knew because he felt it too, as if it were his own. "Why can I feel you so strongly?" Eric asked boldly. The pain he felt from him was almost too much to bear.
When he was only ignored, Eric planted himself in front of the brown-haired boy and blocked his maker’s distant gaze into far off nothingness with himself. "Have I disappointed you? Have I not met your expectations?" he asked with even more courage.
When Eric came into view and forced the other vampire to look at him, the boy could no longer ignore him. "No, you have not disappointed me. I do not regret you and I never will," he answered with the honesty of a child. He could not hold back then from reaching out and cupping Eric’s face in his palm.
Eric had expected the boy to lash out at him for interfering and demanding his attention, and was surprised to receive affection instead. He wondered how long his maker had lived in solitude. The boy could be hundreds of years old, for all the Viking knew. When he looked into his grey eyes, Eric could see the weight of years that was not evident anywhere else on his youthful body.
It was fascinating to see this creature so heavy with emotion, as if his heart was still alive to ache and yearn and skip beats. "Why do you weep, then?" Eric whispered bravely. He saw no tears, but could feel them inside.
The smaller vampire dropped his hand and looked away from his child. "I am very old and I have seen many changes, but have not changed myself. I suppose I grow weary of it sometimes," he explained softly.
It was hard for Eric to believe those words came from the mouth of a child. He wanted to ask just how old the boy really was, but he could not bear to make his maker's dead heart hurt more. He stared at the vampire in front of him with mud caking his hair and the smell of raw earth on his skin. "How can creatures such as us change?" Eric asked inquisitively. The boy had to have changed. He could not have always been this nameless creature in this forest. His history was written on his body, on the muscles that toned him and the ink that dressed him.
The boy shrugged. It had been so long that he did not know how old he was anymore, but he sensed that his child wondered. So when Eric looked at him with dissatisfaction, he leaned forward and nuzzled Eric in a barely there brush of lips on his. When he pulled away, he licked his own mouth, hoping to pick up some taste of Eric.
The kiss shocked Eric, but sparked lust inside of him at the same time. It seemed to consume him just as savagely as the hunger that drove him to want to kill. He was too young yet to learn to control it, to understand it, and he was possessed by instinct. Eric's blue eyes glazed over and darkened before his mouth collided against the older vampire's, giving his full, bottom lip a strong nip before withdrawing, as if he were daring him.
The boy smirked devilishly when Eric’s reaction was the opposite of what he thought it would be. He grasped a fistful of Eric’s blond hair and pulled him to him for a deeper kiss. Eric was unable to control himself, a mixture of bottled-up desire, lust and hunger for his maker overwhelming him as he responded visviously to the kiss. His tongue tangled with the boy’s, he was drunk on the taste of him. Eric moaned, and when he withdrew from the kiss, his fangs were pointed and throbbing.
The vampire boy ran his thumb across Eric's newly sharpened teeth. "Shhh," he soothed gently, as if trying to calm a wild animal. His own fangs were protruding, but that was all that gave away his arousal. With a hand flat on his chest, he pushed Eric back so that he was straddling the Viking’s waist. "This is just instinct," he explained, running his hand lightly down his child’s face. "Tell me how you feel."
Eric’s body submitted underneath the boy instantly, not looking away from his grey eyes as if deeply under a spell. When words did not flow freely from his lips, Eric knew the rest of his body would speak for him. His cock hardened quickly under his trousers, the fabric of which had become worn and dirty. He gave the boy an obvious look of confusion, as if looking for an answer to that question himself.
"I-I cannot get close enough to you," whispered the brave Viking who never stuttered, who had mortal children of his own who were older than this boy looked.
The older vampire could not be sure if it was the maker-child bond making Eric feel this way or if it was something else. The only thing he had ever felt with his own maker was the need to obey whatever was ordered of him. "Closer than this?" he asked as he pushed a lock of hair out of Eric’s eyes.
Eric gazed up at his maker’s pointed fangs through lust-glazed eyes. His thumb bravely reached to graze against those teeth before it brushed against his full-bodied bottom lip. His hand then ventured down to his bare, tattooed chest and finally down to his navel. His eyes followed, worshipping. "Close like...when we share blood," he tried to explain.
The boy closed his eyes to Eric's gentle touch. He could not remember a time when someone had touched him so reverently. "It is the bond causing you to fixate on me,” he insisted. “When you were a man, were you attracted to women?" he wondered.
Eric's eyes continued to undress his already nude chest. "I am sure there are many reasons why I feel the way I do, and not all of them can only be because you have made me the way I am," he insisted. But in all honesty, these feelings towards the boy were confusing and strange, and he did not know how to define them. "And why does that matter?" Eric barely responded to the question.
The other vampire sighed and gave Eric one last chaste kiss before he lifted himself off of Eric. "You are confused; now is not the time for this," he decided, but it only made Eric want to understand more. He watched as the boy’s eyes suddenly lit up. "Let's go into the town tonight."
The newborn vampire rose into a sitting position and attempted to clear his head. The distance between them was torture, even if it was only mere inches, but he held himself back out of fear of rejection. "I liked women," he tried to give the boy an honest answer.
"Yes, I know," the boy smiled, not looking at Eric, but towards the town instead. "It is the bond affecting you." With that, he rose gracefully and began walking. "Come," he ordered gently over his shoulder.
Eric's body began to move in obedience to his maker before his mind could make that decision, as if he were a slave to the command. There was a long interval where the Viking was deep in thought as he walked mindlessly, following every footstep of the other vampire. "Then why did I want you when I was still human?" he challenged him suddenly.
"You wanted to live. I gave you an easy choice. It had nothing to do with me," the boy answered.
That was when Eric finally realized what they were doing. "Wait a moment, what are we doing? You cannot go into the village looking like that." He tried to stop the boy by walking backwards in front of him.
The older vampire stopped walking to look down at himself. "Why ever not?" he asked with childlike curiosity.
"Your hair is muddy. As is the rest of your body..." Eric tried to explain. He looked so incredibly innocent and youthful, and it fascinated Eric.
"I like it," the boy defended, "But for our safety's sake, if we are going to act as mortals, we should look like them, as well."
"Let me wash you," Eric suggested in a whisper.
The did not see the point to that. He would just get dirty again. He crossed his arms over his chest automatically as if to hide himself. "Fine," he snapped, but then took in a deep, calming breath. His child was only trying to help. Eric almost laughed. His maker never looked as young as he did when he folding his arms over his chest in an act of defiance.
He walked over to the river, knowing Eric would follow, and it was only then that he realized what he had agreed to. Eric was the first to strip out of his pants, not thinking twice about it. He threw the trousers behind him as though he were shedding old skin. The vampire child’s jaw dropped when his child stripped down to nothing without warning. He thought he had grown past his shyness long ago, and usually, he barely blinked an eye at nudity. Yet somehow, this was different.
He was careful to look anywhere else but Eric as he spoke. "I'm not taking my pants off," he said firmly.
Eric gave his maker a puzzled look, and it was then that he realized he was standing completely naked in front of his maker for the first time. In his human life, he never thought twice before dropping his trousers in front of whoever, whenever. Feeling as though he had disappointed him, Eric sought out his trousers and slipped back into them.
"Fine. We can go as savages," he shrugged at the ground.
The boy hated that vicious word. Is that what Eric really thought of him? Probably, but it was not like he had done anything to dissuade this notion. He looked down at his bare chest, so covered in dirt that one could barely make out his tattoos.
Mind made up, he covered the short distance between himself and Eric in a blink of an eye and was pushing Eric into the deep part of the slow moving river before the other vampire had a chance to react. The boy grinned playfully before jumping in as well. "We may as well get our clothes clean, too. We would not want to look like savages, after all,” he added a little snidely.
As a Viking, Eric never had a fear of water. Yet now, after being flung into the darkness of the river with a simple flick of his maker's wrist, he sputtered to the surface and gasped for air as if his life still depended on it. He panicked even more when he realized he could not feel himself breathe even as he heaved for air to fill his lungs. Eric swam backwards, backing up against the bank as the boy entered the water much more gracefully. Eric glared at him defensively from across the river, and with every movement the boy made towards Eric, the Viking tried to back away further like a scared animal.
The older vampire frowned at Eric's reaction and finally realized his mistake. He had been alone so long that he sometimes forgot how truly terrifying he could be. "Eric," he said his name as gently as he could and held his hand out to him. "I did not mean to startle you, Child."
Eric continued to glare even when he felt the instinctual need to find comfort in his offered embrace. He was still shaken up. He had not expected it, and now, how could he believe that the other vampire truly did not mean to scare him? How could he trust him, knowing he held this kind of power? Not taking his eyes off of the boy, Eric was silent and stayed where he was.
The boy tried to look as un-intimidating as possible. It was something he had never really tried to do before and he was not sure how successful he actually was. "Eric, I was just..." he began, "...playing. I forgot that you still have your human reactions. You do not need to breathe," he assured, approaching Eric slowly. "Did I scare you? I will try and not do so in the future." When he was in front of his child, he reached out slowly with both hands and gently rubbed the Viking’s arms up and down in an attempt to get the goose bumps to disappear. He had seen this gesture of human comfort long ago and hoped it was the appropriate one.
The goose bumps only rose further at his maker's soothing touch. How can those hands have hurled him so roughly before, but touch him so gently now? The boy was unpredictable and Eric never liked surprises. He wondered if he could do that, too. He wondered if he could hurl a man his size or bigger into the river like he was nothing at all.
"You did not scare me. I just do not like being drowned," he mumbled, not willing to admit his fear even now. Even though he was still terrified, Eric melted into his maker's comfort instinctually, as if it was a natural balm to his nerves. He could not look into the boy’s eyes, however. Instead, they focused on his chest, one hand tentatively reaching out to run down his torso to wipe off some of the mud.
A small smile quirked the corner of the boy’s lips. He was pleased that Eric had not recoiled under his touch.
"Maybe, I will find some new tattoos under all this mud," Eric tried to tease light-heartedly. He still would not look at the boy and concentrated instead on his chest. He slowly lathered away the mud, thrilling at the feeling of his taunt, sculpted, yet still so adolescent muscles. His hands worshipped the boy as they washed away the earth from his skin, taking one inch at a time. "How did you get them?" Eric finally spoke.
The older vampire let his hands drop as Eric washed him, afraid they would wander. "They were given to me," was all he said. His child was sometimes too curious for his own good. He closed his eyes and relaxed under his child’s attention.
Newly clean, Eric kissed the naked areas of flesh from the base of his neck to his shoulder and his collar bone. He was unable to resist the contact of lips to flesh. Being this close to his maker was overwhelming but intoxicating as he cupped his hands to pour the river water over the body in front of him. As Eric uncovered this new flesh, he thought he would have to do this again, and again, and again. He laughed when he looked up to observe the boy's hair. He gently began to comb through the black locks, working them apart carefully yet not pulling too hard.
The older vampire sighed in contentment. He knew he should not let Eric get so intimate while he still had his reservations about what was happening between them, but at the moment, all he could think about was his child’s touch.
Eric’s fingers were so tangled in the boy's hair that he feared he would ever get this project done. Yet his maker was letting him touch him, groom him, and therefore Eric could not complain. He gazed at his maker's serene face and could not look away. "Were you this beautiful when you were mortal?" Eric asked with genuine curiosity.
The other vampire’s eyes snapped open to find Eric sincere. "I am not beautiful," he answered, reaching up to cup Eric's face again and look at him intently before letting his hand drop. "We should get going. Am I clean enough to pass the test?" he asked with an raised eyebrow
Eric snickered. He had not seen himself since the transformation and he looked down then to gaze into his muddled reflection in the water. "Well, I suppose I cannot blame you... there are no proper mirrors in these woods, I suppose you do not know," he shrugged. Even if they were not in the darkness of the wilderness, mirrors were expensive and hard to come by. His wife owned one, Eric thought in the back of his mind.
He leaned forward and began laying kisses on his maker’s chest, tasting river water mixed with his own unique, intoxicating taste. The boy groaned and wrapped his arms around Eric's neck to pull him closer, forgetting for the moment that this was what he had been trying to avoid. "Eric you do not really want this, it is just the blood," he interrupted, letting go of him reluctantly and stepping away from Eric's wandering, needy hands.
Eric narrowed his eyes at him. "I do not understand why you keep saying that," he said, refusing to get up out of the water. They were in no rush. They had eternity, did they not?
"I say it because I do not want you to do anything against your will. You admitted yourself that you were attracted to women in your human life. The only thing that can explain your attraction to me is my blood in your body. You feel obligated to make me happy and you are just confused because you are feeling my own attraction to you," the boy reasoned.
"I am not mortal anymore." Eric stated the obvious, as if his maker failed to notice. "Those things do not matter anymore. And besides, I would have bedded a man if I had found one I fancied," he answered truthfully, although he did not expect the boy to believe him. He did not seem to trust him, and Eric hated that. He waded over to his maker and pressed his forehead to his torso as if he were bowing his head in worship. He kissed his navel, finding this particular part of the boy infatuating. It was proof that he was once a mortal boy.
It was then that the boy was sure Eric was a temptation the gods had sent down to him to torture him. Yet he knew it was his own fault from his own moment of weakness. If he had not kissed Eric, his child would probably never have gotten ideas of love-making into his stubborn head.
The tender gesture was almost the boy’s undoing and he had to fight the urge to have Eric take him right there in the river. He ran his hands gently through his child’s long, sun-colored hair as he fought with his own conscience. "Come, let us go into town and you can find you a woman to bed if you wish," he offered, hoping to divert Eric’s attention.
Eric stared at him, dumbfounded. He could still bed mortals, even as this creature? It did not sound as appealing as it should have been, and Eric made a face of disgust. He rose up and towered over the boy in the water. "I do not want to find a woman!" he shouted, unable control his frustration.
The boy was surprised by Eric's outburst. "Eric, do not shout at me. I am standing right here, and I assure you, I have very good hearing," he chastised. "I was just offering you other means of relief.”
Eric dropped his eyes. As if to cool himself off from the heat of his anger, he laid down on his back and floated in the water. He swam back over to his maker and pressed his forehead against his chest again. He found this act comforting. It was like having a mother again. "I do not wish to play with my food," he told the boy.
The elder vampire’s hand automatically came to run his fingers through Eric's hair. "All right," he agreed, quietly giving in to Eric, even when he knew he should not spoil the boy. "But you may change your mind if you find something you fancy."
Eric tried to ignore that as he closed his eyes while his forehead continued to lean on the unyielding flesh of his maker’s chest. He kissed every inch of bare skin over and over again. In the past, he had always been a rough lover. He very rarely even touched his wife like this. Yet nothing was more natural than nuzzling this boy, kissing him, just as a mating pair of animals would.
"Eric, you must feed from me before we go," the boy told him. A newborn always had a difficult time controlling the blood lust, and if Eric was hungry, he may just try to take out the whole town.
Eric knew his maker could feel his smile against his bare flesh. His fangs sharpened instantly, so quickly that it spooked him a little. The kisses to his bare torso became rougher, hungrier, and soon, he was using his teeth to nip him.
The boy chuckled, and the soft sound excited Eric more. "Hungry are we? Let us get out of the water before we are washed downstream," he teased, taking Eric's hand and leading him up onto the grassy bank. He sat on the soft earth and motioned for his child to sit beside him. Usually he simply offered his wrist, but he still felt guilty about frightening his child earlier. So instead, he lay on his back. "You may drink from whatever spot you want," he offered, curious as to where his child would choose.
Eric was starving, and this hunger was not a human hunger. It demanded and it was violent like a storm inside his veins. He had fought many battles as a mortal, but this battle against hunger was by far the cruelest. So when his maker laid his body down and offered himself completely, every inch of him, Eric stared, overwhelmed. Quickly, as if the boy might change his mind, Eric covered his body with his own and lay gently on top of him. "Anywhere? And you will not stop me?" Eric asked, his fangs throbbing as he gazed down into the boy's grey, cloudy eyes. His hand slid to his inner thigh. "I want it here."
The smaller vampire should not have been surprised when Eric went for the most intimate part of his body. He covered the spot where Eric had his hand and tore an opening in the cloth big enough for Eric to access the flesh there.
Eric glared at the restricting rip in his maker's trousers, having hoped to see more than just this patch of skin. The boy had torn the animal hide as though it was nothing, and he wondered if he could do the same to it. He wanted to test his own strength. At the possible expense of angering his maker, Eric emitted an animalistic growl and grabbed the offending fabric and ripped it open more, tearing it higher to his groin, but still not enough to expose more than his thigh.
The boy reached down to playfully smack Eric on the back of the head, not enough to hurt, but enough to get his point across. "Now look what you have done. I will have to find another pair," he chastised, though it was hard to stay angry in the wake of Eric's enthusiasm.
Eric lifted his head high to preserve any small amount of dignity he had left after that smack to the head. To prevent himself from laughing at his child and further damaging his pride, the other vampire relaxed and reached down to use his sharp nails and slice a small cut on his exposed thigh.
The second Eric caught the smell of his maker's ancient blood, his attention snapped immediately back to where it should have remained all along. An animalistic growl emitted from deep within him and his hand roughly shoved his maker's leg up and bent his knee before his mouth latched violently onto the naked flesh. With a muffled growl against his skin, Eric bit down, tearing the flesh clumsily. Once the blood flowed freely into his mouth, he moaned in ecstasy and the hand that was not holding his maker's thigh in place wandered up and down his other thigh.
His maker had cried out when Eric bit into him so savagely, and his own fangs extended from the pleasure of being fed on. Eric held on to him tightly, as if he might try and get away, even if it was the last thought in the boy’s mind. He hand came down to run through Eric's hair and he tried not to think about the fact that he was hard and there was no way his child could not notice.
Eric drank and drank, and wondered at how he could find more passion in death than in life. As a man, he had tried to live every day as his last, because for all he knew, it could have been. And on his deathbed, he thought he had experienced it all. Yet now, he could never have known how wrong he was, for no mortal could feel heat and passion and ecstasy as he did now. He thought that perhaps this boy would taste like death, but his blood was the very essence of life himself.
Eric’s erection was incredibly hard, as if all the blood he was taking greedily from his maker's thigh was flowing directly into it, and he could smell the boy's arousal. His free hand came up to smooth a flat palm over his torso that was heaving as a victim’s might. His hand firm around his maker’s thigh, he lifted it and swung it over his shoulder, spreading the boy’s legs up and apart and withdrawing from the wound only long enough to lick up spilt blood before sinking his fangs roughly into the secret flesh of his maker’s inner thigh a second time.
"Eric," the boy hissed. He almost came, but held himself back as one hand clenched in his child’s hair and the other dug into the ground as if he were trying to stabilize himself.
Eric ignored him and continued to take the blood greedily, moaning with each gulp, learning to keep his fangs inside the wound so it did not heal. His soft hand curled as he raked his nails down his maker's chest and instinctually down to his groin. He felt his hardness hot in his palm and moaned loader, sinking his teeth in further.
The boy’s eyes rolled back into his head and he arched up Eric's touch, even as he grabbed the hand that brought him pleasure. For a moment, he could not bring himself to push that hand away, but he knew that if he did not, it would lead to other things. He moved Eric's hand to rest on his stomach. That was when he could feel himself begin to weaken. "That is enough, Eric," he said, his voice rough with lust.
Eric only just heard him through the sound of the blood flowing through his body. He did not stop. Instead, he moaned and sank his teeth in further and gripped his thigh over his shoulder tighter.
"Eric," the boy said again, but his child was lost in a haze. A hand gripped Eric’s hair tightly as he was shoved away.
Eric was jolted roughly back to reality and the wound healed instantly. He felt himself filled to the brim with his maker's essence, strengthened and intoxicated. He lowered his head to his hips, resting against his damp trousers and inhaling his musky scent. "Godric,” he spoke the name before he realized he had thought of it.
The boy shivered as Eric spoke a name he had never heard before. He ran his hand gently through his child’s hair as if he were trying to soothe away any lingering pain Eric might have felt when he jerked his head away. Perhaps it was the blood loss making him hear things. "What did you call me?" he asked gently.
Eric licked the drying blood from his thigh and settled his head back down on his hips. "Godric," he repeated absent-mindedly, "I need a name to call you, do I not?"
"I suppose..." the boy responded, his hand still stroking Eric's hair, "It is a strange choice. What does it mean?" he asked, not knowing Eric's language well enough to understand.
Eric raised his head and glared at him. "It is not strange," he mumbled defensively, "If you do not like it, then give me a name to call you. You made me because you want to regain your humanity. You will need a name for that."
The boy grinned in amusement and laughed softly. "You get upset about the silliest things," he teased. "I like it."
Eric ignored Godric and rested his forehead against his maker's collarbone. "Why do you wish to torture me? If you wish to put me through tests of will, you may, but my body and soul tells me I need to..." he searched for the right word, but could not find it. "To mate with you..."
"As your maker, I have complete control over your body and soul. You feel what I feel, and I fear that I am projecting my feelings onto you," Godric explained yet again. "I do not wish to torture you. I am trying to do right by you. I have never made another before."
Eric's frustration, fueled with the strength of his maker's blood, was starting to take over. "You do not trust me, yet you demand mine," he accused, but as soon as he heard his own angry voice, he lowered his head in shame. He laid soft kisses on Godric’s chest apologetically.
"It is I that I do not trust, Child. I would not trust anyone, even myself, when it comes to protecting you," he admitted as he raised Eric's chin so that he was looking Eric in the eye. "I will protect you, from everything. This is my promise to you," Godric vowed. After all, that was all he had ever wanted from his own maker years and years ago.
The town was busy that night. Many men were still out drinking with their whores while their wives and children slept in their beds. The streets were crawling with pimps and thieves, rich men and poor men, but none of them truly knew what lurked in the dark.
It was a perfect hunting atmosphere.
"The trick is to find your own hunting technique," Godric whispered to Eric as they watched a slow group of men stumble out of a tavern. "You are too young to glamour, so seduction is your only option. I usually only hunt men, but each of us has his own preference."
He had stolen a pair of dark deerskin trousers before they came into town, his own too badly ruined after Eric had torn them. They were too big, however, and hung low on his hips. He had also snatched a shirt so his skin’s inked markings would not show. "No children," he added, giving his child a stern look so he would know how serious he was. "Now, I want you to stick to the shadows as I lure us our prey. Stay hidden until I say so. I want you to watch and learn."
Own hunting technique? Eric did not understand, but he did not ask, too afraid to disobey. Could they not just blindly hunt whomever they pleased? On the battlefield, he barely caught a glimpse of the faces of the men before he struck them dead. He was even more a monster now. Did that not mean he would be even less apologetic and merciful? To kill without discrimination, is that not what a creature such as himself did? And what did Godric mean by glamouring?
He left his questions unasked as he stood motionless in the shadows, watching his maker intensely. Godric gave his confused child a reassuring smile before he turned and walked into the flickering light of a street lamp. Eric witnessed his maker then change within a simple blink of his eye from a powerful, other-worldly creature to a small, scared teenaged boy.
The laughing, drunken men’s eyes seemed to be automatically drawn to the small form that emerged from the shadows. "Good evening, gentlemen," Godric began, his voice quiet and humble, "I was wondering if you could spare some coins…"
"Ah, laddie. You don't sound like you’re from around here, but people here have to earn their keep. Any ideas on how you might earn yours?" an older man challenged as his two companions laughed.
"Yes, sir," Godric nodded, and his voice turned sultry as he looked up at them from underneath his long eyelashes. The men stopped their leering just to stare. "I am willing to do anything," he said, taking one man's hand and leading him towards the dark alley. The other men followed, excitement in their eyes.
Eric could only stare in awe as his maker transformed from Death himself into a timid, innocent little boy. So convincing he was in this act that it almost convinced Eric. This boy has been doing this for a long time and had mastered this technique. The second he realized what Godric was actually doing, however, his fists clenched in a dangerous mixture of anger, jealousy, and hatred towards the mortal men who thought they were going to touch him. The Viking growled from the shadows, and even though he knew the humans could not hear it, he knew Godric would.
Once in the alley, the man pushed Godric face first into the stone wall. "Pretty boys like you shouldn't go into dark alleys alone," he whispered harshly into Godric's ear.
Godric grinned, his fangs flashing in the moonlight. "That is why I did not go alone." With that as the only warning, he spun the man around and ripped his throat out before he knocked out one of the others. The last man had taken off as fast as his drunken legs could carry him, and was running right towards Eric, even if he did not know it. "Now, Eric!"
Eric had lost his patience the second the man had thrust his maker against the wall. He hardly even heard his maker's permission before he lunged out of the shadows at the man who had touched Godric, not even realizing that Godric had already sliced his throat open and had commanded him to go after the mortal who had escaped. Viciously, Eric sliced his fangs into whatever remained of this man's throat and drank him dry sloppily.
This was different, so different. Drinking from Godric was like drinking the wine of the Gods. His maker tasted like perfection and his blood was as rich and deep and beautiful as their bond. But with this man, he only felt anger. He tasted like corruption, yet Eric hungered viciously for it all the same.
"Eric!" Godric shouted, but there was no time to chastise him further and he took off after the fleeing man. He did not have time to glamour him, and instead, to silence him. Godric snapped his neck with a flick of his wrist. He hated to do it, feeling as if he had just wasted a meal. Human blood was not good cold and dead.
Godric sped back to the alley and dumped the body beside the man he had knocked out. He grabbed Eric by the shirt and lifted him to his feet off of the dead man before slamming him into the wall and pinning him there. "You put us in danger," he snarled.
Eric yelped, still not used to Godric's unearthly strength. He had hardly had a chance to come down from his swoon, filled with the ecstasy of his first kill. The shock of his back hitting the cold stone wall sobered him up quickly. At first, he could not speak, as he was too terrified by the sharp look in his maker’s eyes. Was Godric going to slit his throat the same way he had these mortal men? The way he was looking at him, Eric really could believe that he might. He swallowed nervously and his body went limp in submission, but his eyes remained narrowed in anger.
"He touched you," Eric explained softly.
At first, Godric did not understand what Eric meant and then understanding dawned, his child had been jealous. It took all the willpower he had then not to roll his eyes. He tried to be patient, but it was difficult. "Eric, you are going to have to get over this. We are no longer human. I do not belong to you. If I had allowed it, I could have let him have me and there would have been nothing you could say or do. Creatures such as us do not practice monogamy."
Eric almost collapsed to the ground when Godric let go of him, but at the last moment, he regained his composure and stood. His thirst was not yet sated and just being surrounded by these bloody men on the ground was torture. He had only just had his first taste of mortal blood.
He wondered if his maker would have let the men have him, and have him as he himself had not. His body swelled with anger at the mere thought, but he remembered the look on Godric's face before he turned to slash the man's throat. Godric had other reasons for choosing rapists such as the men by their feet, and Eric knew it.
"Yet I belong to you?" Eric challenged, even though every thread of his body told him to remain silent and obey his maker without question. But the Viking was never one to obey even the most powerful of instincts. "Why did you make me then, if not to be your companion?"
"I am your maker. That makes you mine until I say otherwise," he told Eric firmly. As far as he knew, most makers grew tired of their children after a few hundred years and released them. Looking at Eric now, however, he knew he would never be the one to leave him. "I made you to be my companion, yes, but not my lover. Did I not hear you speak of your wife and other women? It is nearly the same thing. Sexually, you can be with whomever you please, but a larger part of you will always belong to me."
For once, Eric did not want sexual freedom. After all, once you tasted wine, water was just second best. His body and his mind simply did not allow it, so bonded to Godric's as they were. It angered him that this stoic boy did not feel the same.
Eric projected his anger then to something else and looked down at the unconscious man in a pile of bloody broken bones and shallow breathing. There was still some life in them yet, but it was a life he did not deserve. Something about the thought of killing him was extremely fulfilling to Eric, as if in a way it meant he was proclaiming Godric as his own. "I want to kill him," he snarled angrily through clenched, fanged, hungry teeth.
Godric was pretty sure he had not gotten through Eric's hard head at all, but at least there was a new focus. "You may have this one but I want you to work on luring your prey away from the pack. So after you have him, you can find me mine," he proposed. Tearing out the other man's throat had not given him scarcely a mouthful of blood and he was still weak from Eric’s earlier feedings.
Eric looked up only to glare at Godric before he lunged at the man. He almost wished he were conscious instead of half dead already. He wanted to feel the quick pounding of his panicked heart like an erratic drum in his ear. Yet the second he clumsily broke the skin and tasted the heat of blood, he moaned and proceeded to drink his life away. He only stopped when he felt the life exit the body, when suddenly instinct told him to take no more. That was enough. He lifted his face from the mortal’s neck, a mess of blood surrounding his mouth. He stared at the lifeless body as if in a trance.
Godric kneeled, turned Eric away from the lifeless body, and began to lick the blood off of his child’s face. Part of him had worried how Eric would react to his first kill as a creature like himself. Would he hate him for turning him into a monster, or would his past as a warrior help his him follow his instinct to survive? He wrapped his arms around his child and hoped that Eric would realize he was not alone and that perhaps the price one paid to walk with Death was not all that bad.
Eric forgot his earlier anger immediately and melted under his maker’s gentle, affectionate grooming. It was such a giant leap from what Godric was only seconds before- deadly and frightening. He could turn from a tiger to a kitten with lightning speed.
In all his years on the battlefield, Eric had never felt more victorious as he had after he killed the man, as sloppy as it was. How could he feel so alive and be so dead?
Godric finished cleaning the last of the blood from Eric's face and leaned back to look at him. Satisfied with what he saw, he asked gently, "Do you think you can do it by yourself? Would you like me to come with you?" He had been Eric's only food source since he was created, and once Eric learned to hunt properly on his own, he would not need his maker in that capacity anymore. The thought saddened him, but he did not want Eric to be dependent on him. He wanted Eric to keep that free spirit Godric was so fascinated with.
Eric, meanwhile, wished he could just take from Godric whenever he thirsted. As exciting as the hunt and kill had been, it still was nothing compared to drinking from his maker. "I do not understand," he whispered, "Where will I take them? Where will you be? How do I do it?" he rambled nervously, thinking that Godric was casting him out to the middle of the deepest river without a paddle. "I am not going to whore myself like you do," he added angrily.
The last person to call him a whore did not have his head on his shoulders much longer afterwards. "You think I am a whore?" Godric asked in a deceptively calm voice.
Eric regretted it immediately. He had been with Godric long enough to know that this calm tone of voice usually meant danger. The newborn’s face softened as he dropped gracefully to his knees, burying his forehead in Godric's chest apologetically. "No," he whispered truthfully. He just meant that he acted like one. He lured men into his company and seduced them in a way that he denied to Eric.
"Hmmm," Godric hummed, unconvinced, but willing to let Eric get away with it. "Eric, seducing is sometimes easier than fighting; it is quieter and draws less attention," he explained as he ran his fingers through his child’s long hair. "And I always believed men like that deserved death if they were willing to copulate with a child they assumed to be their own children's age.”
Eric looked up at him in confusion. "You project your morals into killing? We are monsters."
"No. They are the monsters," Godric snapped, and Eric jumped. He wondered what kind of life Death would have had. "Come, I'm hungry," the vampire boy said irritably.
Eric stood tall, dwarfing his maker's much smaller frame effortlessly, even when he still felt shrunken next to him. "No," he interrupted stubbornly, "I can do it myself." With a sharp glare, Eric turned his back to his maker and walked confidently out of the alley.
"Be careful," Godric whispered, because he knew Eric would hear it. He watched him leave, but followed behind at a safe distance, unable to let Eric out of his sight. They had not been apart since the night Eric was made, and Godric wondered if it was normal to care for someone this much after such a short about of time.
Eric heard Godric's warning as if it were a voice in his head and pretended to ignore it. Despite everything his instincts were telling him, he insisted on going off by himself. He wanted to convince himself he could still be independent, as if he still owned a part of himself, that he had not been possessed completely by his maker.
Eric stormed proudly out of the alley and into the crowd, but was immediately overwhelmed with the scent of the mortals surrounding him. Not only could he smell each and every one of them, but he swore he could hear their blood pumping in their veins and their hearts drumming violently in his ears. He realized all too soon he was not prepared for this.
Godric watched anxiously from the shadows. He could feel Eric’s nervousness, but he remained hidden. He would give his stubborn Viking the independence he craved, especially since Eric had been so dependent on him since he woke to this life.
Yet Eric's blood felt as though it was on fire and his fangs snapped in place and throbbed painfully with the neglect of satisfying his hunger. How was he supposed to choose a single a mortal out of this crowd? How did he know to pick the right one? On the battlefield, the enemy was always recognizable. Yet now, he was swallowed by a crowd of strangers.
He did not want Godric to see him fail. Did his maker not expect him to be a warrior in death as he was so gallantly in life? Stubbornly, Eric wandered further into the dense sea of mortals until finally he could not take it anymore and collapsed onto the ground. He covered his head and his ears with his hands and arms, as if to drown out the sound and the smell of the world around him, a world he no longer belonged in.
By the time Godric got to Eric, a crowd of worried and curious humans had surrounded him. Just as one man reached out to place his hand on the young vampire’s shoulder, Godric seemed to spring from nowhere to stand protectively in front of his child. "Do not touch him. Everyone needs to go on their way and forget you saw us," he commanded, his voice taking on an almost musical quality as he glamoured the crowd. Eric did not even notice his maker above him, too overwhelmed with the sound of heartbeats like drums that was flooding his ears. He gritted his fanged teeth and groaned as if in agony.
Godric reached down and hauled Eric up before he used his supernatural speed to take them out of the crowd and back into the safety of the woods. He sat Eric down, but did not let go of him. Instead, he sat down in front of his Viking and pulled him close. "It is okay, Child," Godric whispered. He had not comforted anyone in a long time, yet it came as easily as breathing used to. "You are all right,” he whispered again to reassure them both.
The speed of the travel frightened Eric even more and he backed away from Godric until his back met a tree and he no longer had the energy to run away. "How am I supposed to hunt in such a place?! It is torture to be surrounded by all that flesh and blood!" he cried out.
"You will learn to block it out," Godric answered with worried eyes.
Eric leaned heavily against the tree and buried his face in his hands, unable to face the fact that he had made a fool of himself. He had never been cowardly, not even as a small boy. He was practically born with a sword in his hand. And now he could face a crowd of humans!
"I know it is different now, but you will get used to being around humans. It will just take some time," Godric promised as he moved to sit beside Eric.
Eric knew now why his maker had chosen the life of a solitary animal in the woods, away from human contact. He let his hands drop from his face and gasped in shock when his palms were reddened with blood. His eyes widened as he gingerly licked a finger, curiously testing it. "Our tears are blood?" he asked in shock.
Godric felt his dead heart breaking when he saw that Eric had been crying. "Yes," he answered, taking his child’s hand and licking it clean.
Eric found it comforting, and for the first time since they had gone out into civilization, Eric relaxed. "Are you going to leave me one day?" The question startled him as much as he was sure it startled his maker. "Is that how this works? You breed me into this world, raise me up, and then throw me out into the wilderness to complete the cycle?"
"Usually it is the child that wishes to leave the maker after a few decades. It is perverse for a maker to keep their children under their command for longer than that," Godric explained gently, "One day, you will not need me anymore, and you will wish to leave and maybe even create your own children. But I will not throw you into the wilderness. I choose to live here because it is peaceful… But perhaps I hold you too close here. Perhaps we should 'play human' for awhile. We could leave and live in Rome and you could meet others like us there.” Godric knew the solitude of the woods, with only himself to influence his child, was not the proper environment for a newborn. He had known it from the beginning.
Eric dropped his head back in his hands when he did not receive a real answer. He needed his maker to say he would stay with him for however long they lived. He could not go on with this uncertainly. He had given Godric everything, yet his maker gave back nothing of himself. "Why should I meet others?" he asked, his voice muffled by his hands.
"Perhaps it will help you with the transition," Godric answered. He was surprised when Eric did not advocate the idea.
Eric turned and dropped his head in Godric's lap, clinging to him like a small child. "I want no one but you. No one can be like you," his chest heaved against Godric's legs as if he still desperately needed to breathe.
"All right, calm down," Godric soothed, rubbing Eric's back. "It will not always be so overwhelming. You just need to be around humans more to get used to them. Are you still hungry?"
"The hunger never stops," Eric admitted. He pressed his face in Godric's chest and inhaled his scent. He convinced himself he no longer needed to breathe and stopped. He had no need for the air around him now, and it only reminded him that he clung to his former life too strongly. He needed to leave it behind, to shed it like old skin.
Godric had not let Eric feed from anywhere but his wrist and more recently from his thigh as a treat. But he knew Eric needed something more, so without a second thought, he sliced a small wound on his own neck. "Drink," he offered.
Eric perked up instantly from the scent of his maker's sweet, familiar blood filling his nostrils and warming his body. He could almost taste him already, and the animal inside him took control once again. His lips brushed against Godric's, not daring to steal an uninvited kiss and only taking the liberty of the barest of touches before he growled passionately and attacked his neck hungrily. The wound was closing, but as soon as the first drop of blood hit his tongue like a spark of lightning, his fangs sank into his flesh. When he moaned loudly, he felt the vibration through his maker's body.
Godric gasped when Eric's fangs sunk into him, and the sound sent chills up Eric's spine as he continued to gulp down his blood. All the previous times he had torn his own wound, he had been clumsy and messy like the awkward fumbling of a teenager. This time, however, he practiced being swift and skillful. His hands came to run up his maker's chest, accidentally lifting his stolen shirt in the process. Instinctively, Eric tried to force Godric onto his back, but that part of him was already against a tree and he growled against Godric’s flesh in frustration.
Godric gently maneuvered them so that he could lie back on to the ground, knowing that was what Eric wanted. Once there, he forced himself to lie still, allowing his child to take whatever he needed, as long as it would chase away the tears. The Viking growled again when he felt some give to his maker's body and he was finally able to lie on top of him. Godric’s blood was a healing elixir, dark and thick and dangerous, and he drank his fill and felt as though he were swimming in the very depth of Godric’s veins.
Eric always drank from him as if it would be the last time, as if his maker’s blood was that precious to him. "You do not have to take so much at a time," the smaller vampire whispered to him reassuringly, "If you need more later, then you may have some."
Eric wondered if Godric's voice was truly in his head and if he had the ability to communicate in that fashion. The sound of his voice triggered the automatic reaction for Eric to finally stop and detach himself from Godric’s neck, even though it was nearly painful to do so. He licked the remaining drops from his maker's neck as they spilled out of the healing wound. He buried his face in his maker’s collar bone and swooned from the orgasm of the blood. Never had Eric felt so alive. His maker's blood was like a drug thundering in his body. Why could they not just stay hidden in these woods and feast off of each other forever?
Godric wrapped his arms around Eric and held him close. "Feeling better?" he asked.
Eric did not lift his head. His hardness was pressing obviously against his maker's hip, a constant ache, not having found relief since his birth into this world. The erection was like the thirst, forever unfulfilled. "How can you say we are not lovers after that?" Eric whispered, still feeling the pulsations of pleasure as his maker's blood coursed anew in his veins.
Godric sighed. "I suppose I cannot," he smiled, "Are you sure that is what you want?"
Eric found comfort in the crook of his maker's neck and breathed in the gentle, adolescent musk of his skin. Godric's question confused him. "A little late for that. You have already made me your companion."
"Yes, but are you sure you wish to be lovers?" Godric asked.
Eric gave his maker another puzzled look. "It is what we were meant to be," he told him simply.
Godric had learned in his past that nothing was ever that simple, but perhaps what he and Eric had really was. "All right," Godric agreed in a voice barely above a whisper.
Eric took Godric's reluctant, vague answer as another rejection and could barely accept it. He rolled off of the boy onto his back and hid his face in his muscular arms. Godric sat up and looked down at Eric sadly, determined to make it up to him. He straddled Eric's waist and ran his hands down Eric's chest. He lifted up Eric’s shirt and ran his hands over bare skin, hoping to entice his child out of hiding. He leaned down to lay kisses on Eric's arms, wanting his apology to be recognized and accepted even if it was never spoken.
"Eric," Godric coaxed him as he kissed the fingers that covered Eric’s eyes. "I want to make love with you."
Eric dropped his hands when his maker's words sank in. When he felt Godric’s hips gyrating against his cock, he began to ache. It had been so long since Eric had found relief that he almost came just from hearing his maker say those words. "I want to do more than that," he admitted.
"Really?" Godric mused with a little laugh. He was glad that Eric had come out of hiding. "What would you like to do to me then?" he proposed mischievously.
There were many, many things Eric wanted to do to Godric. He had a feeling he should not go into detail. "Strip you naked... so I can finally see you." His hands came to slide up the boy's shirt.
Godric smiled and reached down to rip the shirt right off his own back, not having the patience to go slow. Then he stood up to strip out of his pants before he was completely naked and straddling Eric's lap again.
Eric watched the striptease as if time had stopped. He swallowed, and it was a lingering, nervous, human reaction. His maker’s body had to have been perfected by the hands of the gods themselves, so toned, and yet, still the body of an adolescent. Eric’s hands smoothed over his thighs aimlessly and his cock ached painfully from neglect in his new body. "You cannot tease me anymore," he murmured.
"No teasing," Godric agreed as he reached down to pull off Eric’s tunic and ran his hands up Eric's bare chest. He leaned down to pull Eric into a desperate, savage kiss. As soon as Godric's lips touched his, all of Eric’s hesitation vanished and he moaned, a deep sound coming straight from the pit of his need. He did not know how it was going to happen, the two of them coupling, but the actual physics of it did not matter. He needed to be close to Godric, so close that he was inside of him.
Though his body was submissive under Godric's, Eric’s tongue fought for dominance inside his mouth. Their fangs both lengthened, he did not notice he had slashed his tongue until he tasted blood and knew it was his own. Godric growled animalistically, and in the blink of an eye, he had stripped Eric of his pants. "I want this," he began, holding Eric's cock firmly in his hand, "inside of me."
Normally, Godric's speed would have startled Eric. Yet now it only excited him, made his heart jump with lust rather than fear. In this cloud of lust, Eric did not even notice he was suddenly disrobed of his pants until his suddenly-exposed cock was gripped in the tiny hand of a demon. Eric arched his back and thrust up instinctively into his maker's hand, already leaking with his own natural lubrication.
"I need it..." Eric moaned. His voice was hoarse and thick with arousal and he pumped into Godric’s hand as much as he could. Anything to relieve the tension.
"Mmm…," Godric moaned as he slowly lowered his virginally tight body down onto Eric's hardness.
Eric's fanged mouth opened in a gasp when Godric sank down on his cock, impaling himself at an agonizingly slow pace. Godric's body was tight, untouched. Yet Eric knew this could not be. He was too experienced in what they were doing now, too experienced in the art of seduction. He knew then that just as he was trapped in the body of a little boy, Godric was trapped in the body of a virgin.
“Ah!” Eric exclaimed as he finally felt himself fully inside his maker. He forced his eyes to open to make sure what would be excruciating to humans was still pleasurable to a creature like him, and was encouraged by Godric's boyish moan as he rocked his hips. Eric’s clawed hands clenched his thighs as they straddled him.
Godric cried out gently as Eric rocked up into him. His hands came to rest on his new lover’s chest to brace himself. He could not take the gentleness of the act any longer as he lifted himself up, only to slam back down on Eric's cock as if to prove a point. "You do not have to be gentle, Viking… I am no human and neither are you."
Eric moaned and bit his lip so hard he bled. He could smell his maker's blood, different from his own. "I've broken you," he panted, sounding amazed and bewildered. To prove it, he wrapped his hands around his maker's slim waist and lifted him before almost immediately slamming him back down where he belonged again.
Godric moaned, and the sound brought Eric to the edge. "You cannot break me, I am strong," he said. It was in that moment that he knew he loved Eric; perhaps more than a maker should ever love his child. Godric was not sure if he would ever be the same again. He set a fast pace that still did not seem fast enough for either of them.
Eric wondered how truly unbreakable his maker was. Did vampires strengthen with age? When Godric slammed roughly back down onto his cock, however, he did not care about anything but this moment. Nothing in his life had ever felt this good, this perfect or erotic as being inside Godric. With his hands hot on his hips, he met each of Godric's thrusts with his own. Finally, in a particularly deep thrust, he rubbed something hard inside Godric with the head of his twitching cock.
Godric cried out, his back arching and head flinging back when Eric hit that special spot inside of him. He flashed his throbbing fangs and felt his body shiver all over. "Right there… Oh, Gods! I had forgotten how good that felt…"
With his cock striking that secret part of Godric with each roll of his hips, Eric felt more in control than he ever had. A deep, animalistic growl emanated from his throat and he dug his nails into his lover's thighs, drawing blood.
The sound Godric made in response sounded like something between a whimper and a purr. Eric seemed to be aiming for that sweet spot inside of him ever since he discovered it, and Godric nestled his face in his neck and inhaled Eric’s scent deeply before he licked over the scar on his neck. A Maker's Mark is what it was called: a very sensitive spot on a vampire’s body to remind them that they would always belong to someone else.
Eric shivered. He still felt his maker's fangs there like a phantom limb. He sat up to get closer as he forced his back to straighten even when his body wanted to melt from pleasure. Chest to chest, Eric's hips met his maker's in a rough collision and he could smell their sweat mingling sweetly as his cock struck Godric’s prostate over and over inside that impossible tightness.
Godric let his fangs teasingly rake across his skin as he continued to ride Eric. He leaned in closer to Eric and whispered, "I want you to come..."
Eric moaned sharply when he felt his maker graze him and his cock twitched inside him, so close to orgasm. "I don't want it to be over..." he gasped desperately.
"Brat," Godric accused affectionately through fanged teeth as he nipped his lover’s lips. He could make Eric come if he willed it, but that would take away the fun. "It may… mmm… it may be over sooner than you wish," he warned as his own body tightened and he teetered on the edge of control.
Eric did not know how his maker could talk during times like this when he himself could not even find the air to breathe. Thankfully, he did not need it. Eric’s hands tightened on Godric’s thighs, and his fanged mouth fell open as he cried out and thrust upward into Godric one more time before spilling out deep inside of him. Eric collapsed, falling onto his back.
Godric took his own cock in hand when he felt Eric come inside him, and all it took was one tug before he too was coming hard. He cried out Eric's name as he did, and collapsed on top of his child’s chest. After a few moments of speechlessness, Godric automatically began to purr like a panther that had just had a meal after days of starvation.
Eric not only felt Godric relax against his chest and heard his low, steady purr, but he felt it from inside of him as well. Still deeply imbedded in Godric, he felt his maker heal around him, virginity restored. Eric shut his eyes, the smell of blood and sex overwhelming his senses as he tried to calm down.
Godric feathered little kisses all over Eric's chest before he sat up, careful not to lift himself off of the younger vampire. He leaned forward to capture Eric’s lips with his own in a lazy kiss.
Eric kissed him back with equal passion. "I want to stay inside you forever," he whispered. The sweat on his chest was cooling in the night air as his hands still remained firm on Godric’s hips.
"Do you feel better now?" Godric asked, running his hands up and down Eric's chest as he spoke.
Eric grinned up at him, his fangs still pointed in his mouth. He was closer to his maker now, not just physically. There was no longer a gap between them. They were in complete communion with one another, and the Viking was high from the feeling. "Did you fuck me to get me to stop trying to fuck you?" he teased.
"Well, you are very persistent," Godric said, giving him a fanged grin and leaning into his touch. "And I grew tired of fighting instinct. It is not in our nature to do so."
Eric worshiped his body with his hands as they smoothed over the flesh. "And I grew tired of you leading me on," he smirked arrogantly as he rubbed Godric's come over his still-spread thighs.
"Hmmm," the boy hummed, as he shifted on Eric's lap, knowing they could not stay like this forever. "One cannot be a tease and a whore at the same time Eric. So which one am I?”
Godric ran through the forest at a clumsy, slow, human speed and forced himself to pant heavily as if he were out of breath. Eric was practicing his hunting skills, specifically, the art of the chase and capture. Right now, however, Godric was sure his child was just toying with him. He made himself trip over a raised branch and fell hard onto the ground. He scratched up his hands and arms in the process, allowing the scent of his blood to fill the air.
A collision of thoughts clouded Eric's lustful mind as he chased after Godric in the darkness of the forest, exercising every predatory instinct that was still very new to him. The speed was something he was getting used to but he still could not move as fast as he had seen his maker travel.
Despite the distance between them, Eric listened to Godric’s heavy breathing and could almost hear the illusion of a pounding heart. Their nightly games were always realistic, as they had to be. This was Eric’s training, his practice, yet he always wondered every time his maker victimized himself, how much of this was truly education and how much was foreplay.
Eric’s fangs were long and throbbing from the rush of adrenaline coursing through his body. He thrilled knowing that this was the only time Godric allowed him to be the one in control. Or at least, he could pretend to be, because no matter how Godric would struggle innocently underneath the weight of the Viking, he was still always in control.
Eric caught up with Godric effortlessly. He grabbed the boy around the middle and swung him around to face him and pinned him to the mossy ground of the forest floor with practiced ease. Eric forced his weak, struggling arms and legs down and Godric allowed him to overpower him. During these games, Eric liked playing with his food. "What is a little boy like you doing alone in the forest? Didn’t anyone ever tell you there are wolves in these woods?" he played.
"Please do not hurt me," Godric begged realistically as he struggled weakly in Eric's grip. "Please, let me go," he pleaded, his eyes widening with mock fear.
Eric grinned arrogantly and felt his ego swell. His arousal was evident as it pressed purposefully against Godric's hip. "Why? You are going to taste so good," he growled, dropping his head to inhale Godric’s scent and pretending it to be the stench of a human.
Sometimes, their games ended here without the penetration of fangs. Sometimes, Godric would stop him or chastise him for being clumsy. This time, however, Eric wasted no time and asked no permission before he sank his sharp fangs impatiently into his maker. He did not let go of Godric’s hands as he drank greedily.
Godric knew he should break Eric of the habit of toying with his food, but it was difficult when he enjoyed it so much. Godric cried out when Eric's fangs sank into him when he had not expected it, but he remained in character as he attempted to struggle out of Eric’s hold.
Eric wondered just how far his maker would let him take this. He wondered how far Godric would play the helpless victim before he decided to take back the control he had allowed his child to borrow. He moaned against his maker's flesh as he drank his fill, not yet understanding that his maker was not an unlimited source of blood. To him, Godric never ran out.
Why would he ever need humans?
Still crushing Godric’s body with his own to prevent his escape, Eric's hands wandered down to his trousers which were worn down and thin. They ripped easily under his lust-crazed fingers and he growled before he pulled down his own trousers just enough for his engorged cock to spring out. Godric knew he should stop him, but he knew Eric’s newly discovered confidence was a good thing. A human would be dead by now and Godric wondered if Eric would have even noticed.
Eric braced himself for his 'victim' to wake from his death and take back the control that was rightfully his, but he did not feel any strength in the body underneath him. Now afraid to take it too far, he withdrew his fangs and let his body slump on top of his maker's. Eric was not used to having this much control for this long, and he quite simply did not know what to do with it.
Godric's arms came up to wrap around Eric. "Eric?" he questioned softly. Eric mumbled an incoherent reply and buried his face into his maker's healed neck. He did not want the control anymore. He wanted to be swallowed up by the comfort and warmth of his maker.
"Shhh," Godric soothed, kissing his hair. He was surprised that Eric did not jump at the first opportunity to take control like Godric thought he would. He reached down to quickly rip off his animal hide trousers and spread his legs around his child. He situated himself even closer as he took hold of Eric's cock and stroked him a few times before leading him to his entrance.
"This is your reward for being such a good hunter. Don't you want to take it?" he whispered seductively in Eric’s ear. He felt that Eric needed to do this for himself or he would never get the confidence he needed to be a true companion of Death.
Eric lifted his head when he felt Godric's hand stroke his need and spread open for him, and could not continue to resist. He allowed the animal inside of him to take over and he arched his back before not so gently thrusting into Godric's virginal body. He stopped halfway, waiting for his maker to open to him. He moaned as his cock throbbed inside of Godric and he thrust once more and felt himself impaling Godric completely. He nails clawed at the moss, tearing up the Earth as his fangs grew long again.
Godric grunted and forced his body to relax. "There's my big, bad, hunter," he teased, his fingers reaching up to trace Eric's fangs as his own sharpened.
Eric growled lustfully and gently bit one of his maker’s fingers, sucking on it briefly before letting it fall from his mouth. He loved it when Godric spoke during these heated moments and his cock swelled even more inside of him. "Mmmm, so tight..." he moaned almost incoherently as he thrust roughly, taking from Godric’s body what he needed.
Godric cried out, and Eric decided he would do anything just to hear that sound again. Sometimes, it was difficult to hear emotion in his maker's voice and see it in his expression through his distant, stoic mask, but it was at times like this where Eric saw deep into his soul. Godric was spread open for him, literally and metaphorically, and Eric was enthralled.
Godric cried out again and arched his back under the younger vampire’s assault, yet his erection never wavered and his fingernails clawed along Eric's back. Eric ran his shaky hands up his lover's smooth, spread thighs and pressed his chest flat against his own. The Viking bit the boy's shoulder, playfully, enough to leave a mark but not enough to draw blood. His thrusts were rough but passionate and so deep they struck the hilt of him each time.
When at last they lay sated on top of one another, Eric broke a kiss and could barely find the words to speak. "Are we capable of love? Can two demons love one another?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes, and we have an eternity to do so," Godric told him, despite what he knew about what others of their kind believed. What was the point of living forever if you could not love someone? Godric supposed that even the fiercest of monsters in the deepest of forests still desired companionship. He playfully nipped at Eric's lip to change the subject. "Did you like your reward?" he whispered.
Eric moaned his response. "Is this what I get every time I am good?" he teased, kissing his lover's wet, swollen mouth one more time before he caressed his neck with his lips and tongue.
"We shall see," Godric granted, running his hands through his child’s long hair and working out the tangles.
The Viking relaxed under the boy's fingers. "That means yes," he grinned hopefully. His fangs were still pointed and sharp as they caught the light of the moon. Bravely, he reached to brush a messy, tangled lock of black hair out of his maker's eyes.
Godric chuckled. "It means we shall see," he repeated.
Eric decided that he could stay right here on top of Godric forever if only the sun would not disturb them. "It means yes," he insisted again with an arrogant grin, "You cannot help but love it when I impress you with my hunting skills..." Testing him, he fingered a strand of his maker's black hair. He liked its messy appearance and how it fell in Godric’s eyes as if it had a mind of its own. Yet, he would also love to wash it and to run his hands through it.
Godric automatically tensed when he felt Eric’s hand in his hair and he swatted it away. "Well, you are impressive," he smirked, "In everything that you do."
Eric pouted childishly despite the deliberate boost to his ego. "Why do you become uneasy when I touch your hair? You should let me wash it. Not that I do not love it in ruins..." he nuzzled Godric’s cheek, inhaling his scent.
"I am just not used to it, I suppose," Godric shrugged, not wishing to discuss it further. "There is no point in washing it when it just gets dirty again."
"You are not used to a lot of things," Eric observed, even though he knew he was taking a brave leap with that statement. It was true, was it not? Godric almost blushed every time Eric fell into staring at him, and continued to be surprised with every gentle, intimate touch that he was allowed to make. "I want to," he sulked.
Godric groaned, knowing Eric was not going to let this one go. "Fine," he muttered.
Eric vowed then to keep showing off his impressive hunting skills, but never perfecting them. He did not want to stop these games. He did not want to break away from his maker to chase after humans. They could offer him nothing when his maker was everything.
The younger vampire gently ran his fingers through Godric's hair, chuckling when his hand became trapped in it. "Do not do that, it only makes it worse," his maker chastised, detangling Eric's fingers from his hair. "We should go hunting so you may feed again. I wish to take you to the Rome soon, and you need to be better prepared. You will be too overwhelmed otherwise," he changed the subject.
Eric’s dead heart sank. He buried his face in Godric’s neck and settled down more firmly on top of him, as if to plant himself there permanently. "I do not wish to do that. I’m not ready. I want to stay here," he said stubbornly.
"You need more human blood, Eric. It will make you stronger," Godric insisted gently. When he was a fledgling vampire, he remembered hungering constantly for human blood, yet Eric seemed to have no desire for it.
Eric lifted his head to glare down at him. "That is not true. No human blood could be as powerful as yours. It does not make any sense."
Godric was both amused and pleased when he realized that Eric only wanted to feed from him. But realistically, he knew it could not go on for much longer. "Eric, I am not even half as strong as I usually am because I have been your only food source. It's my fault, however. I admit I should have started weaning you off my blood the first night I made you. You may still feed from me, you may always feed from me," he tried to reassure him. "But you need to drink from humans, as well."
"I don't wish it," Eric said against stubbornly.
"You are a big-headed, stubborn Viking,” Godric sighed in a very human-like gesture before he pushed Eric off of him and sat up. “Fine, we shall have it your way, but no sex until you agree to begin feeding from humans, as nature intends."
Eric gritted his fangs, truly angry at his maker for perhaps the first time. "I will kill and drink the men that touch you. I will do that happily... I know I can do it," he stated.
"No, my child," Godric said firmly, "You will find your own prey."
Eric growled at his maker, not with lust for the first time, practicing this newly-discovered confidence, and surprising Godric, who only raised an eyebrow though, in response to his child’s boldness. "Of course. You do not have to touch him. I will do all the work," he insisted. The plan was perfect in his young vampiric eyes. "We can share victims, can we not?"
Godric tried to get his ripped pants into some order. It looked more like a loin cloth than a pair of trousers. "The whole point is for you to learn to hunt without me. You need to attract your victims on your own," he said patiently.
Once Eric knew he could get away with growls, he bore his teeth and did it again. "Why would I ever be without you? Why can we not hunt as a pair? Are you planning on leaving me?" he accused.
Godric closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself before he spoke. "If something were to happen to me, I would not want you to be defenseless. There is always someone stronger than yourself in this world, you must remember that. Just because you are a predator does not mean you can never also become prey."
Eric glared at his maker who remained just as calm and stoic as ever. "And what exactly do you mean by that? How many others of us are out there?" he demanded. "And why would something happen to you?"
Godric shifted slightly, the only sign that he was uncomfortable and irritated with this conversation. "There are many of us. That is why we must go to Rome and meet the Queen of our kind, so if something happens to me, you will be protected," he admitted. "Anything could happen to any of us at any time; we are immortal but we can die."
Eric was still dissatisfied and could not help but think his maker was hiding something from him. Were they in danger? More specifically, was Godric in danger? Is that why he choose to spend so much time alone in the woods, like a savage animal? "What are you talking about?" Eric shouted, and startled an owl into flight that had been watching them from above. "Nothing is going to happen to either of us, we are living gods, you have taught me that. I do not need protection. That is insane," he snarled. He did not want to share Godric with anyone. No victims, no other children, no makers... and certainly no queens. He had no queen and he had no king. As a Viking, he was his own, and that was how he liked it.
"Lower your voice," Godric commanded calmly, and that was all Eric needed. "There is a lot you must learn about our kind. I cannot be so selfish as to keep you here in this forest forever. You are going to have to trust me. When we go to Rome, all you have to do is behave. Is that too much to ask, my stubborn child?"
Eric rose to his feet when sitting down made him feel useless. How was he supposed to trust Godric when the boy did not give him answers? "What do you mean lower my voice? There is no one here! We have these woods to ourselves. We sleep in a cave during the day!" Eric threw his hands up in the air. "I do not want to go. It is a long journey that would take months. Just because I am the same creature as she does not mean I have to answer to a queen." A large animal, perhaps a deer, scurried away at Eric’s angry voice.
"I do not like being yelled at. I can hear you just fine," Godric replied plainly as he stood. Even though Eric towered over him, it made no real difference to him. "And in these circumstances, I do not care what you want. We will go and you will do as I say."
Eric took one small step back when Godric rose to his feet. "What is waiting for you in Rome?" he asked with a twinge of jealousy.
"Nothing but my peace of mind," Godric answered honestly.
Eric’s eyes wandered down to his maker’s soft thighs that were showing through his shredded pants. He could still smell the sex on him, and suddenly, it was difficult to remember what he was angry about. "You are practically naked. You cannot go into town like that," Eric told him.
Godric glanced down at himself and shrugged, but he was glad with the change of subject. "It does make things easier."
Eric glared at his maker’s indifferent expression. He would rather Godric lash out at him than remain a stone cold statue. When he did not respond, Godric turned and walked towards the river, stripping himself of his tattered clothing and diving into the deep waters.
In an act of rebellion, Eric watched his maker for a moment before he walked off into the forest.
Eric learned quickly that memory was sharp for a vampire. He found his way out of the woods easily, yet every step away from Godric was almost physically painful. This is the first time he had been without him since his awakening. It felt wrong, it felt dangerous, and for the first time in his life, he was unsure. He did not feel free, only trapped. Eric did not turn back, however, as he was always too stubborn to listen, even to himself.
He found himself in the very same alley in the village, swallowing down his distress and allowing his hunger to dominate. His first real kill was clumsy and awkward like the first sexual encounter of a teenager. But his hunger was a hollow shell in the pit of his being that screamed to be fed. It was all consuming, his constant erection.
His victim was young and drunk, perhaps a few years older than he himself had been, and he was an easy kill. He had stumbled accidentally into the alley and had practically fallen into Eric’s arms. He struggled only weakly and fell unconscious even before Eric sank his teeth into him. Eric learned then that Godric's games did nothing to prepare him. The victim did not smell so sweet, nor did he taste as delicious. He did not struggle the way that purposefully aroused him. Even still, Eric felt alive when the lifeless body fell to the ground and Eric fell back against the wall in ecstasy.
He felt drunk on the walk back into the depths of the forest where he felt he belonged. Though he would never admit it, he understood now why Godric insisted on the prey of humans. He was sated in a way he had never been able to be with his maker, perhaps because he had never drained Godric dry. They would find no traces of blood in the veins of the man who lay dead and ghost-white on ground in the alley.
Eric allowed his feet to take him back to the clearing in the woods that Godric had called his home for many years, centuries, or eternities. However, he stopped before he could come into scent and sight range of his maker. He realized then that Godric would laugh at him if he knew his victim had practically fallen into his arms. He would muse that Eric had preyed on a drunk that had one foot in the afterlife already. He looked around, found a thorn bush to his right, and took one deep breath before thrusting himself against it. When he stood again, his body was covered with bloody scratches, some worse than others. Now, he could tell his maker that he had fed from an army of enemies who put up quite a fight. Bloody and aching, he walked proudly into the clearing.
Meanwhile, Godric had worked himself into such a panic after emerging from the river to find Eric gone. In the blink of an eye, he went from pacing the mouth of the cave to inches in front of his child. "Where were you!? What happened!?" he demanded.
Not bothering to look at his maker, Eric walked straight past him. "I did what you told me to do. Is that not enough?"
Godric grabbed Eric's arm and swung him around to face him. "You left and did not tell me where you were going or what you were doing,” he said, trying to control his anger, but it was not as easy anymore.
Eric had been whip-lashed by Godric's hand on his arm and he almost fell backwards with the force of it. "You told me to do something, so I did it," he snapped at him. "You told me to go hunt, so I left to do so!" He bore his fangs.
It was Eric's fangs flashing at him that finally pushed Godric over the edge and he backhanded Eric across the face. Although it would have been strong enough to knock a mortal unconscious, the blow was not meant to hurt him. It was simply meant to put his defiant child in his place and to silence his insubordination. He knew only one smack would be enough, and almost instantly afterwards, Godric’s eyes softened with affection.
Eric cringed, his face stinging only faintly, but his soul aching unbearably. When he opened his eyes, he was on the ground, and Godric was kneeling beside him. He suddenly wanted to run away, to crawl under the earth and let the dirt devour him. Instead, Eric gazed down at the ground in shame.
"I should not have lost my temper with you. But you push me to my limits, Child. I have to remember that the fire in you is what made me want you so." Godric smiled softly, unthreateningly, and tilted Eric’s face up towards him. "How did you get these wounds?" he asked, hoping to focus Eric's attention elsewhere.
When Eric did not reply, Godric crawled gingerly into his lap and straddled his thighs. "I thought you had left me," he explained.
Eric could no longer deny him while he had snuggled so close. Just as his maker could instill within him impossible fear, he could also give him impossible comfort. "I cannot leave you,” Eric told him honestly, "Even if I wanted to."
"If you ever asked it of me… I could release my hold over you," Godric admitted to Eric hesitantly, because that certainly was the last thing he would want. He had selfishly wanted to keep it a secret, but knew that would not be fair to Eric. One day, Eric would have resented him for it, just as he had resented his own lying maker.
Eric frowned and shook his head disbelievingly. Nothing Godric could say or do would make Eric leave him. "That is foolish, it would not work," he insisted, and it seemed his maker was not willing to argue anymore, because he had begun to lick away the blood from the healing scratches on his face. Eric could not help but melt then. "I hunted," he whispered suddenly, remembering.
Eric's ignorance was refreshing to Godric, and gave him hope. "You smell like you have eaten," he agreed approvingly and inhaled the lingering scent of human blood. He could tell the human had been male, in his late forties, and very drunk. "I am very proud of you," he smiled. Usually, Godric was not so cuddly, but the belief that he might have lost his child was still fresh in his mind. He did not even realize his hands were clenched in Eric's shirt as if the other vampire would be ripped away from him at any moment.
"I could have done it all along. It’s not that difficult. It's all instinct," Eric lied, "A group of men wanted to fight me, and they had swords, but I had fangs. I let them think they could win, just for fun. That is why I got all scratched up. Then I took them one by one," he mumbled, making up the story as he went along. On the battlefield, Godric fell for him because of his strength and bravery, and he could not turn into a coward now.
"You are so brave," Godric smiled. There was a thorn stuck in Eric's hair and he ran his hand through it to remove it out nonchalantly. It amused him that Eric had made up this tall tale just to impress him. “I will never strike you again,” Godric vowed, because he doubted he would ever need to.
Eric nuzzled his maker's neck affectionately, but his arms were still exhausted and lifeless and did he did not wrap them around Godric's slim body. "Not even if I deserve it?" he asked teasingly. In his mortal life, he never respected anyone but himself and his fellow brothers on the battlefield. But things were different now. Now, he had something worth worshipping.
"Not even then," Godric answered.
Eric sighed. "Are you hungry?" he asked curiously. Godric had mentioned how his strength had been impaired since Eric had been drinking so much of him, and the Viking could not imagine how it must feel, having now known true hunger himself.
"A little, but I am okay," Godric replied, thinking nothing of it. He knew they should probably lay low for awhile. Too many murders were hard to make look like accidents, and he did not know how clumsy Eric had really been. "I want us to leave tomorrow night."
"Why must we go?" Eric wanted answers because he knew his maker had them. "It is safe here, nothing is going to happen. I don't understand."
"It is a way of our kind, Eric. A tradition. When a maker sires a child, they present them at court. I do not care for such things, but I want others to know you are mine. You will be better protected that way. Those that do not respect me at least fear me, and will not try to harm you. And those vampires who have allegiance to me will also be your allies, shall you ever need them," he explained.
"Does that mean you are mine in return? I do not share you with any other?" Eric asked.
Godric sighed. "You are my only child. I will not make another," he said, hoping that would be enough. “But it would be cruel of me to keep you from exploring others.”
Eric knew the boy was an expert at dodging questions and avoiding straight answers. "And will you find another you are attracted to?"
Godric almost laughed. "Some you will meet have been lovers to me in the distant past, lifetimes ago. Yet right now, you are my love."
Eric squirmed underneath him. "Which ones?" he asked, his fangs pointed at the thought.
"They meant nothing to me. But you, my child, are everything to me," the boy explained patiently.
In his attempt to wiggle out from underneath him, Eric ended up with his back to the ground. He gave up, his limbs heavy in defeat. "It must have meant something at the time," he accused Godric.
"Sex is about power and gratification with most. For me, it meant nothing except to be able to feel something, if only just for a little while," he admitted, running his hands over Eric's chest as if trying to soothe him.
Eric was not convinced and perhaps never would be. "And what is it about when we have sex?"
"So much more, my Viking.”
Rome, year 931
Eric watched as Godric struggled with the clothes. He could tell he had not worn anything but deerskin and his own nakedness for far too long. He looked like a child in these modern, loose clothes that were far too large for him. He had killed a Roman teenager earlier that evening, no older than eighteen, purely for his fashion sense. They had arrived a few nights ago, but had been lying low in the neighboring wilderness. Eric, having become a skilled killer, was not so easily overwhelmed now by the large crowds of humans.
The younger vampire had to hide a grin as he watched his maker in amusement. His own new clothes fit perfectly, and he was lucky, because finding another tall man in a place such as this was a skill. "If you took smaller clothes they would fit you better," he suggested, but knew Godric's policy on children.
"I do not need smaller clothes," Godric insisted bitterly as he finally got the pants to stay up after tightening the belt as far as he could. "I do not plan on needing them for very long, anyway," he added as he eyed the corpse's boots warily. He decided that no one would be looking at his feet, so he turned back to face his child who was still greatly amused by this.
Eric did not like where they were going. Any distraction from their journey was one he was going to seize. He looked over Godric, shaking his head at the bare toes that peeked out from his long trousers. "Didn't you teach me one of the most important rules was to blend in? You stand out like a sore thumb, especially with no shoes. You look like a little beggar boy. And your feet are cold, I know they are... they are icicles against my legs during our rest in the day."
Godric looked down at his feet and frowned. "Vampires are always cold. And I cannot walk in those things," he argued, pointing to Eric's own boots. In all honesty, he could not remember the last time he had worn them. "And who cares if I look like a beggar? At least humans will not look twice at me."
"But I do not look like a beggar. You will stand out next to me. And you tell me that vampires cannot feel pain or cold... but why then do I still shiver?" he challenged as he gathered up the boots of the man Godric had killed. They were large, yes, but they would not swallow his maker whole like the rest of his clothes. He dusted them off and undid the lacings.
Godric sighed, knowing that his child had made valid points. He sat down on the ground and grabbed one of the boots, reluctantly staring at it before he slipped his foot inside. From there, he stared down at it as if he did not know what to do next.
Eric fought hard not to laugh at his maker. He was like a small child unable to tie his shoes for the first time, preferring instead to puddle-stomp in the mud barefoot. He crouched down to Godric's level, knowing that if he was going to offer his help, he should also know his place. "Let me help you?" he asked, because everything required permission with Godric. His hands came to pull at the laces. Although old and already worn, they were good boots. "I will tie them tight so they do not fall off," he told his maker as he did just that.
Godric frowned and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Eric lace up the boots. Instead of standing up right away, he glared at the stupid things on his feet as Eric bit his lip to stifle a laugh. His maker was adorable in his stubbornness and hatred of something so simple. To make amends, Eric laid his head in his maker's lap and kissed the back of his hand over and over. "Thank you," he smiled.
Godric huffed, but he felt his anger slowly draining under his child’s affection. He gently pushed Eric off of him. "We must to get going," he reminded, waiting for Eric to stand before he followed him a bit more slowly. However, two steps later, he was back on the ground after tripping. He growled angrily and forced himself to stand again, but ended back on the ground not a second later.
Eric's hand quickly came over his mouth, this time unable to stop the surge of laughter. He caught it quickly enough and forced it down. There was the swiftest, most agile, most graceful of vampires on this earth stumbling on the ground like a drunk. Eric immediately bent down on the ground beside his maker. "I bet they are warm, though? It will be worth it, once you are used to them," he offered his hand, "If you take my hand I can teach you how to walk in them..."
"I do not wish to learn," Godric growled, "Having warm feet is not worth not being able to move." He reached up anyway and allowed Eric to pull him to stand.
"I can move fine in mine, and they are small, which is even worse," Eric pointed out.
Godric sighed and forced himself to be calm. "You are right. I am being ungrateful. I just do not like being hindered like this," he admitted, "Show me?"
Eric wondered yet again how long Godric had spent in solitude in the forest. He did not ask, as he held his maker’s hand tight and began to walk slowly with him by his side so he could catch his maker at the first threat of a stumble.
Godric walked better with Eric to steady him, but as they got closer to the village, he stopped and pulled Eric closer to him in a very different kind of embrace. He pulled the blond’s head down to gently kiss him, and Eric melted. He liked the feel of Godric leaning on him, even if it was just so he would not fall standing, needing him just as much as he himself needed Godric.
The Viking deepened the kiss, taking more than what was offered, and wrapped his arms around his maker as if he could prevent him from pulling away. He did not want to go. He wanted to stay here, just like this, in Godric’s arms.
Godric allowed the kiss to continue, their fangs brushing up against one another’s, before he finally pulled away. Now that he had Eric relaxed, it was time to talk to him. "I need you to be respectful to the creatures like us you will meet, Eric. They are powerful and you do not want them as your enemies."
Eric laid desperate, passionate kisses along his maker's neck, feeling the blood in his veins just under his skin. He was rock hard already as was typical of his new vampiric body after only a little excitement. He could barely hear what his maker was saying, purely because he was barely listening. "You are powerful, too. They don't scare me."
Godric had a feeling Eric's cockiness and independence that he loved so much was going to get them in trouble. He pulled Eric back by his hair so that he would look him in the eye. "We are a different breed than humans, Eric, with different rules. No maker would treat their child as kindly as I do you. As a fledgling, you must to be respectful to your elders."
Eric stubbornly winced and whimpered, but submitted,. "What do you mean they should not treat me like you do?"
"Watch how they treat their own children and you will understand. To them you are nothing and most would not think twice about killing you. That is why we need the Queen's blessing," Godric explained. "Just... please behave."
Eric turned away from his maker, detangling himself even though all he wanted to do was crawl up as close as possible to him. "We do not need any blessing or you would not have already made me your child," he pointed out angrily.
"We have to do this. I do not have time to explain everything to you. You will just need to trust me, Child," Godric sighed, coming up behind Eric and wrapping his arms around his waist. "We will not be there long."
Eric was still unyielding as Godric embraced him, even as his erection raged. As a promiscuous mortal, he’d never had this problem. Yet now, it was constant, like he was pubescent again. "And what if she does not approve of me, since I am such a bad vampire? Will you have to leave me then and find a new handsome Viking more appropriate?"
"No, of course not. Do not be so foolish," Godric laughed. “It would just make things very difficult. Be respectful to her and her child, Andre. He will be the one that is always with her. He looks as young as I do," he told Eric.
Eric crossed his arms over his chest. "I won't go," he insisted stubbornly, doing his best to appear unmovable. Here, Godric belonged to him, whether his maker would admit it or not. He belonged only to him, just as Eric belonged only to his maker. But under the rule of the Queen, Godric did not belong to him anymore.
"No?" Godric mused, his lips quirked at Eric's stubbornness, "I think you had better, otherwise this..." he reaching down to squeeze Eric's erection, feeling its heat in his palm, "...will not be let out to play for a long, long, time."
Eric gasped, not having expected his maker's hand suddenly where he wanted it the most. He arched into Godric’s touch after getting over the initial shock and leaned heavily against the wall. "That is not true," he challenged him.
"Before you came along, Eric, I went over a century without a sexual encounter," Godric whispered in Eric's ear before he let him go and stepped away. "Shall I try to break that record?"
Eric shivered, his cock aching in abandonment. He tried to give Godric a pathetic look. "You made me to be your mate," he argued, though weakly.
"I made you to be my companion with hopes that you would want me as your mate," Godric corrected him, "Come." This time, his tone booked no argument as he turned and walked away with as much dignity as he could muster with these unnatural monstrosities on his feet.
Eric glared at his maker’s back even when he feared the consequences of doing so. Godric wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but there was no time. The longer they stayed in the Rome unannounced, the longer Eric was in danger.
Godric sighed in relief when finally they safely reached the abandoned building on the outskirts of the busy city of Rome, but he could not say he was happy to see it again. It had always amused him that the Queen had chosen to make her home in the hidden catacombs below of all places. When they reached a stone door, Godric hesitated only a moment before knocking.
A guard answered and immediately bowed when he saw who it was. "I wish to see my Queen," Godric requested.
The guard practically scrabbled to let them in, not even looking at Eric who was staring at the only other he had seen of their kind except Godric. "Yes, My Lord," the vampire hurried, much to Eric’s confusion, before he sent another guard ahead to announce their unexpected arrival. Eric was hesitant as the strange vampire led them through many long hallways, but he followed closely behind his maker anyway, feeling as though he would be lost if he was even just one step behind.
"My King!" a male vampire, who seemed to come out of nowhere, exclaimed. Eric looked around, wondering who he was referring to, and was shocked to find that it was Godric. The vampire shocked him even more when he dropped down to one knee to kneel before standing again and eyed Eric as if he were a lowly species of worm. "You have made a Child," he realized.
"Yes, Andre, this is Eric," Godric introduced, hoping that his child would remember his warning.
Eric only glared at the vampire called Andre suspiciously. "Why did he call you King? Who is he?" he demanded.
"Eric, hush," Godric said sternly.
Andre looked amused. "You did not tell him?” he asked, but did not want for Godric to respond before he continued, “Your Maker was once the King of our kind here in Rome. He ruled with our Queen Adora, my maker. That makes you a Prince, like me," he boasted. Eric could only stare, dumbfounded, before Andre turned back to Godric and spoke again, "Kael is here, you may wish to hold back from introducing your child just yet. This one sounds like he has a mouth on him."
Godric reached out to cup Andre's face so he had the other vampire's full attention. "I need you to protect Eric if anything goes wrong," he pleaded, and Eric watched as Andre seemed to melt under his touch as he nodded.
"All right," he agreed, and Godric let go of him. When Andre looked at Eric, he sighed, as if he were forcing himself to say it. "Eric, Child of My King, you have my vow of allegiance."
A mixture of confusion, betrayal, anger, and jealousy ripped through Eric and he lunged at the boy that had gazed at Godric with such love and had touched him with such intimacy. He slammed him down to the floor, growling into his face like an angry wild animal.
Andre just laughed and did not even flinch when Eric pinned him to the ground. "What is the matter, Cousin? Are you jealous that your maker was with me long before you were conceived?"
"Andre, stop taunting!" Godric insisted as he lifted Eric up and off the other vampire with one hand. "Eric, contain yourself!" he chastised firmly. "Andre is not your enemy."
Now, Eric determined, it was war. Is this how the others of their kind were? He pretended to allow Godric to lift him off, but once his maker's grip released him, he lunged at Andre again. He snarled as he tore at Andre, the scent of blood only fueling him further.
Godric growled and secured a better grip on Eric before he roughly shoved him away from Andre for a second time. Andre stood up and wiped blood from his lip. "He is stronger than a fledgling." He sounded amazed.
Even as Godric pulled him away, Eric tasted sweet satisfaction as he watched the blood spill down the bastard's face. He sneered in his small victory and no longer struggled in Godric's firm grasp, knowing it would do nothing to free him. "I am not, you are just weak." Eric threw him one last insult.
Andre did not have the time to respond before a crowd of other vampires turned the corner fast after having smelt the spilt blood and heard the chaos ensue. They came like a pack of wolves towards a fresh kill, and Eric was unprepared for it. Suddenly, he was not so arrogant and not so untouchable. It was hard to be intimated by the pathetic, loud-mouthed boy he had attacked, but these creatures were different. They were older, stronger, and Eric knew he was no match for them. They were the real vampires, the ones they had come to see and the ones Godric had warned him so passionately about. They were the ones to be feared and respected. Eric instinctively stepped behind Godric for security as if he could hide behind him despite the fact that he was still taller than anyone in this room.
"I heard you were here, but I did not believe it at first," the leader of the pack began to speak as he took in the scene before him. "Your child drew blood. That means blood is owed."
Eric did not know what he meant by that. Their sinister smiles chilled his blood, and defensively, he glared right back. He did not understand. Godric had lied to him. He had failed to tell him that he was not just a servant of the royalty here, but had once been the royalty itself.
"It was no one's fault but my own, Kael," Andre spoke up quietly, trying to placate Kael. Kael and Godric were around the same age in their immortal years and had been enemies for as long as Andre could remember. If there were a fight, it would be an awfully bloody one.
"It matters not. Blood was spilled and it must be paid," Kael insisted so harshly that Andre flinched back. Kael took a few steps forward and moved as if to take Eric from Godric, but Godric grabbed the strange vampire leader’s hand.
It did not matter anymore to Eric that the threat of something larger than himself weighed over his head. The moment the strange vampire came closer to Godric, he snapped his head in his direction and bore his fangs as he growled.
"Yes, I know the law. If you want blood, you will have it," Godric agreed before he turned back to Andre. "Take Eric to my suite."
Kael smiled as if he had been waiting far too long for this opportunity. "Your blood will suffice, My Lord. Yet I think if it is your child's punishment, he should be here as well."
Godric knew he could not argue. “Yes, we will meet in the dungeon.”
Kael gave a swift nod, and with a swish of his cape, he was off. Godric turned to Eric and pushed him against the nearest wall. He placed both his gentle hands on either side of his child’s face to make sure he had his full attention. He kissed his lips gently before whispering against them, "I know you are angry, I know you are hurt, and I promise to explain things to you later. But you will listen to me now. No matter what happens, you are not to interfere or cause another fight. As your maker, I command this."
Eric was too shocked to argue and surrendered instantly. He felt Godric pull away, as if he would never have him again. Something strange came with that firm command, as if it held some magic inside of it, and as if his free will had been taken into his maker's hands and out of his own.
"Why? What is happening? You told me you would stay with me, why are you leaving?" Eric was too overwhelmed to stop and think, otherwise, things would have been more obvious. Blood. Punishment. Dungeon. These were all words that added up to something horrible.
"Eric, it will be all right. I am not leaving. You have to come with me," Godric ran his hands up and down his child’s muscular arms, as if he were trying to warm him.
"This is not right, My Lord,” Andre interrupted, “You know Kael has been itching to get his filthy hands on you, and this is just an excuse. You may not still be the King, but you are still surrounded by loyal servants here to defend you… let me fetch Adora, she will straighten this out…”
Godric did not take his eyes off his child as he spoke to the other vampire. "No, if the Queen gets involved, it will be just what Kael wants; an excuse to take over her reign."
Eric turned to Andre again. "This is your fault," he snarled viciously.
"My fault?" Andre snickered, "You are the idiot who attacked me. And now, your maker has to pay the price...."
"No one is to blame!" Godric interrupted firmly.
Eric lunged at Andre as he had before, except this time, he met the stone wall of Godric's arms and he was slammed back against it. He was slowly realizing what was happening. "Why must you be punished?" he turned to his maker to demand.
"Blood was spilled and it must be repaid. It is the ancient way of our kind, just as humans believe an eye for an eye," he explained, "We must go and you must do as I command."
Eric grabbed Godric's loose clothing like a needy child as his maker began to walk away. He said nothing, all the way to the dungeon, practicing his obedience. It was a rank, nightmarish hell, and when his maker halted, he dropped to his knees in front of him and clung to his waist. If he refused to let go of his maker, maybe they would punish him instead of Godric. "It is my blood they want. Let them take it from me."
"No, Child. No one will hurt you," Godric assured. He had made that promise and he intended to keep it. "I am stronger than I look, Child, I can take more than you can. This is the way it will be. Now let go."
Eric tried to resist Godric's hands prying them apart. Eventually, it was Andre who pulled him away. His initial reaction was to attack him, of course, but his maker’s command took over and he was physically unable to fight, even as he was pulled away and held in place from behind.
Kael smiled as Godric stepped forward. He was holding a whip with ends laced in silver. Godric took off his shirt to keep it from getting ripped to threads as his back soon would be. "Let's get this over with, shall we?" he asked, perfectly calm.
Eric's body was paralyzed. He panicked when he saw the weapon but he was unable to fight and unable to protect. He was unable to do anything at all. And the very worst part of what was to come was that Godric did not deserve this. Eric did. It was his fault, his doing. He was the one holding the whip. He was the one hurting Godric. "No! Give it to me!" he cried out as blood tears fell freely from his eyes.
"Don't worry, fledgling, you will get your chance, I am sure," he heard Kael say, and Godric tensed at the threat, which was exactly what Kael hoped would happen. He heard the first crack of the whip and it felt as though someone had burned him to the bone. The scream was silent in Godric, but echoed through Eric instead. He felt the pain of the whip as if it were his own.
Kael raised his hand for the second strike, but it did not come. "Stop!" a small girl with golden hair shouted through the stone room, and all the others automatically dropped to the floor to kneel before her, except for Godric and Eric. Kael babbled an excuse to the floor as Godric walked over to wrap his arms around his child.
Eric ducked his head in his maker's chest, his eyes still closed. The only reason he knew his maker had approached him was by smell. Normally, the scent of his blood would have sent him reeling, but now, it gave him a human sense of nausea.
"It is all right now, Child," he whispered to Eric as he petted his head. "Come," he coaxed Eric to stand and led him out of the dungeon and up several flights of stairs to his old suite of rooms. He was surprised to find them just as he’d left them.
Once Godric was sure they were safe from eavesdroppers, he turned to watch Eric sink to the bed and cover his face in his hands. "It is okay now, you are safe," Godric whispered, worried at Eric's lack of response. "You may open your eyes, now."
Eric was not yet convinced. This room still smelled of other vampires and his senses were too overwhelmed by it. He did not want to see the damage done to Godric that he could smell. He turned his face, but not his body, because suddenly, Godric was planted firmly on top of him. He felt his maker’s gentle, comforting weight straddling his hips.
"Eric, please," Godric chastised, "No one is here but you and I. I would not ever let any harm come to you, and I myself am not hurt. It will take more than a crack of a whip to hurt me," he smiled. He reached up to pull gently at Eric's hands, and when they would not budge, he kissed Eric’s neck. "Come on, brave Viking. Let me see those sky blue eyes."
Eric dropped his hands but his eyes were still sealed shut, stubborn as ever. Godric held back a laugh at his child's stubbornness. "Come on, Love, I wish to see those lovely eyes," he persuaded again. He kissed the tip of Eric's nose and licked away his dried, bloody tears. He brushed his lips over Eric's when he was through.
Eric seemed to relax more at the light brush of his lips, so Godric tried again with a bit more force. His tongue came out to lick Eric's lips, seeking entry into his mouth. Eric had no choice then but to open up to Godric, and soon, the room was silent except for the soft, wet sounds of their kissing. To Eric, it was not only comforting, but arousing. He did not even notice that his maker had lifted his shirt until he felt a hand slip under the fabric to touch his bare chest.
Godric gave Eric one last chaste kiss on his lips before he kissed down his neck to his exposed chest. He swirled his tongue around a dark nipple as he let his hand wander further down to Eric’s groin. He felt the warmth of it in his palm as he squeezed. "Let me take care of you," Godric whispered against his child’s chest.
Eric jumped when he felt his maker's hand grope him and his warm tongue and lips kiss his muscled chest. If he was trying to make Eric forget everything that had had happened, Eric knew this was the quickest way to do it.
The Viking’s back arched under his lover's breath as Godric continued to kiss down Eric's torso until his lips came to his clothed erection. He sat back to unlace Eric’s pants and only pushed them down far enough to let Eric's erection spring out. Godric bent his head to lick up the length of him before taking him completely into his mouth.
Eric did not know what Godric meant to do until he felt his tongue slide up the center of his need. His eyes opened to look before they were once again closed. Ecstasy overwhelmed him and his cock was swallowed in tight, wet heat. The Viking let out a passionate cry that was half-surprised and half-consumed by ecstasy. His hands came to grip the bed sheets, his hips rocking only slightly as his maker's mouth worked him.
Godric moaned, knowing the vibration of his throat would continue through Eric's cock. He worked him slowly at first, taking him all the way down into his throat before licking back up his length. He used his hand to fondle Eric’s balls and he began to pick up the pace.
Eric threw his head back and his mouth fell slack as he panted for air as a human would. He bit his lip to hold back a loud moan and tasted his own blood. His fists clenched and unclenched, his hips rose and fell with his maker's quickening rhythm. Eric learned very quickly that their kind must not have an efficient gag reflex as Godric practically swallowed him whole.
Godric pulled back just enough to kiss the tip of Eric's cock and say, "I want you to come down my throat."
It was yet again like Godric had complete control over his body. Pain, pleasure, and every other emotion and sensation was now so very keenly heightened. He was unable to hold himself back and he opened his mouth to cry out. The head of his cock hit the back of his lover’s throat as he came.
Godric swallowed every drop and continued to lick Eric clean even after his cock had softened. He finally slid up Eric's body before he kissed his mouth. "Feel better now?"
Eric was more paralyzed than ever, but now, it was not from fear. His orgasm had come so forcefully that for a split second he had lost consciousness and his world went black while all the stars of the sky had dazzled him. When his eyes finally opened lazily, he stared at Godric as if hypnotized.
Godric smiled down at him, his fangs sharp, as he gently brushed a lock of blond hair away that had fallen in Eric's eyes. He then reached to fasten Eric's pants back up before he pulled a fur blanket over them and settled down comfortably on top of him. "Go to sleep," he told his child softly.
That was enough to wake Eric from his post-orgasmic sedation. "What? We cannot sleep here. You did not tell me we would be staying here. Godric, you said we could get approval and leave!" he cried out.
Sometimes, Godric decided, Eric's mood changes were worse than a woman's. Godric could do nothing but blink for a few moments at the sudden outburst. "We have not gotten the blessing yet, Eric," he said calmly.
Eric hated how calm Godric could be. It only made him want to scream louder. He rose up from the bed impatiently. "Then we will get it. The Queen saved you!"
Godric reminded himself of the virtue of patience. "Eric, calm down and come back to the bed," he said firmly.
Eric shook his head. "I do not wish to stay here! I do not want to be their prisoner! We still have time before dawn to talk to the Queen and leave... Godric, please!" he was pleading now.
"Eric, I cannot do this right now. Calm down and get into bed," Godric ordered. Eric gave his maker one last defiant glare as he slid under the covers as far away from his maker as possible and turned his back. He deserved that horrid lash, not Godric. Now his maker would resent him...
The older vampire sighed as he stared at Eric's back for a moment before sliding closer and reaching down the grab the fur Eric had thrown off earlier. He covered Eric with it and scooted closer as he laid a kiss on Eric’s neck. "Do you know that I love you?" Godric whispered in his ear as he wrapped his arms around Eric’s tense body, "You are my world, my prince."
Eric melted under his maker's affectionate, warm tone and settled down into the bed which was richer in luxury than anything he had ever seen in his mortal life. Godric ran his hand up and down Eric's spine. Moments passed before the Viking sighed deeply and allowed his body to go slack as if sleep were claiming him, but really his senses were still alive and alert. Godric remained with him until there was a small knock at the door and he rose from the bed to allow Queen Adora entry.
"Sit down,” the Queen ordered, and Godric did without a fight. He closed his eyes in exhaustion and soon he felt a damp cloth on his back. The Queen patted away the blood left from the healed wound.
"That was very foolish of you, Brother," she told him quietly.
"There was no other way," Godric told her simply, and for a few quiet moments, there was only the soft sound of dripping water as the Queen rinsed the cloth out.
"I am glad you found what you were looking for," Adora told him softly, "Your child has my blessing, but I do not know how much good it will do you. I do not have as much power and influence as I did when you ruled at my side."
Eric suddenly sat straight up in bed. "So you let them beat him because you cannot keep your kingdom in line?"
Godric turned quickly to face his child whom he had thought was sleeping. "Silence, Eric," he chastised. He walked to a wooden dresser and slipped a loose fitting shirt over his head. “Do not talk to her that way. You will be respectful."
Adora looked more amused than offended. "I got there as soon as I heard," she told Eric before she turned back to Godric. "You have yourself a protector."
Godric smiled. "Come here, Eric," he said, holding his hand out to him. "I want to formally introduce you. This is Queen Adora, my blood sister. Adora, this is Eric the Viking."
Eric came as though it was a command and as though his feet were obedient but his soul remained stubborn. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, because he did not trust this Queen. Who could lead such villainous monsters? Who could allow Godric to be punished for what he did? There was so much injustice here, and it was almost funny, because Eric had never cared for such a thing before.
And what did he mean by blood sister? "She does not look like you," Eric replied skeptically and eyed her up and down, not looking impressed.
Adora laughed softly, "Andre said he had a mouth on him. You have spoiled him rotten, I see. They will never be very obedient unless they fear you."
Godric laughed at that. It was a gentle, beautiful laugh that touched a place inside Eric, deep in his soul. "Adora and I share the same maker," he explained to his child.
Eric almost wished then that he had remained pretending to be asleep. What else would he have discovered when his maker thought his child was not listening? "And you meant never to tell me anything? You thought it was better to throw me into this hellish place and make me figure it out on my own?"
Godric walked over to his child. "I am sorry for all that has happened," he told him.
Eric huffed. "I want to leave here now," he said again, because they had gotten what they came for.
"Spoiled," the Queen repeated again, shaking her head at the two of them, even as she smiled.
"I enjoy spoiling him," Godric said, shutting her up quickly, "Come, then. We will find somewhere to stay during the day."
"Where will we go?" Eric asked timidly, following his maker blindly as they walked through the empty streets.
"I am not certain yet," Godric said, though it was clear he was deep in thought. It had been so long since he had walked this city’s streets and known its secrets. It was enough to make him want to scurry back off into his woods. "There are catacombs outside the city walls. We could stay there and be safe."
Eric stared at the ground as he walked behind his maker. He was tired and hungry and felt horrible for all the trouble he had caused, even if his pride would not allow him to admit it earlier. "I am sorry," he said softly to the ground.
Godric stopped to turn to Eric. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Yet I hope from now on, when I tell you to do something, you will listen."
Eric said nothing to that, but glared at the ground under his feet as he continued to follow. It was not until they were in the depths of the catacombs that he spoke again, "I'm not going to let that bastard get away with it."
"Yes, you will. Kael will tear you apart before you even have a chance, and I cannot allow that," Godric told him.
Eric watched as Godric laid a pile of their clothing down on the dusty stone floor. He knew that his maker cared little for blankets or pillows and was just as content to sleep on a rock as a feather mattress. Eric caught sight of the faint mark on his back where the silver had struck him. "What can I do? Will my blood help?" A flood of questions surged out.
"Eric, I am fine, I have told you. Come lay down beside me, I am tired," Godric told him as he lay down.
Eric was dissatisfied. He sat down on the makeshift bed of clothing, and after a moment, he leaned down to lay kisses on his maker’s skin. His lips moved from his neck down to his arms, as if the kisses could somehow heal him. He knew it was getting late and he knew the sun would be rising at any moment. He could feel it weighing down on him. Yet how could he sleep when his maker suffered so? "My blood may help..." he said again, but really, he did not know.
"Eric, I just need rest, and so do you," Godric said, reaching to pull Eric down beside him.
Eric obeyed reluctantly. Lying down next to him, with their bodies parallel to one another, Eric continued to shower Godric with kisses. Godric allowed it, simply because he was too tired to argue. He had not felt the day coming so strongly in a very long time. His eyelids feel heavily and it was only a moment later that he was deep in sleep.
The younger vampire tried to relax but he could not find rest. He watched as Godric's body relaxed fully in slumber, and he wished he could still sense the life inside of him. It was rare to see his maker sleep and it startled Eric to find him so cold and motionless as if he were dead. He wished for the gentle, steady thud of a heartbeat or Godric’s chest breathing with life. It kept Eric awake even when he felt the sun rise high into the sky.
An hour later, Eric had still found no solace in sleep. His body began to ache at first, then throbbed with pain. When he sat up, he was shocked to feel blood trickling down his face and recognized the scent of it as his own. Panicking, he tried to find the source of his blood flow and discovered it dripping slowly from his eyes and ears. He covered his mouth to stifle a scream as he practically hyperventilated.
Godric woke with a sense of unease. When he smelled Eric's blood, his eyes snapped open and he sat up in alarm. Seeing that his child was still awake, he sighed in relief and forced Eric to lie down as he firmly shifted on top of him. "Shh, this happens when you stay up into the day too long," Godric soothed, licking the tears away, "It is all right, but you need to calm down and sleep now."
Eric was panting as if he could not catch his breath even after Godric's body covered him in warmth and protection. "Why is it happening?" he tasted his own blood in his mouth.
"It is the god’s way of telling you that you should be asleep," Godric said, biting into his own wrist before offering it to Eric. Feeding would take Eric’s mind off his panic and he would hopefully fall asleep while suckling like a baby on its mother's breast.
The Viking could barely mumble a confused, "What?" against Godric’s skin before he whimpered and began drinking from the wound. His body instantly calmed as he greedily swallowed the flowing blood. He drank down the liquid fire for a few long moments before his eyes drifted closed. With one last, slow gulp, his mouth fell slack and he finally surrendered to sleep.
Godric sighed with relief and finished licking Eric's face clean. After he was done, he did nothing for a long time but watch Eric sleep. "I think you may have tamed me, my Viking," he whispered with a smile into the dark.
Eric came running through the forest at supernatural speed. It was a trait he had learned to use to his advantage, thanks in part to his nightly games with Godric. They had become unnecessary as the years passed and Eric became a skillful hunter, but they still had not ended.
Eric loved to run, especially when he moved so fast that he was barely a blur to unsuspecting mortal eyes. Nothing, however, had ever come close to what he’d just experienced.
"Godric! Something amazing has happened!" he shouted as if the boy could not already hear him coming from miles away.
When he reached Godric, he was out of breath without needing to be. "Why did you not tell me we could do it?! Why would you keep something like that from me?!" Eric suddenly reverted to anger, just like that, not realizing that his maker had no idea what he was talking about.
Godric looked at Eric in confusion. "What are you raving about?" he inquired irritably.
Eric rolled his eyes, not believing that Godric really did not know. "We can fly! I was walking along the cliff when I fell, but five feet from the ground I picked myself up like I had wings and I shot up into the air above it all! Why didn't you tell me we could do it?!"
"You fell off a cliff!?" Godric shouted, reaching out for Eric and dropping the firewood he had been holding in order to check his child over for injuries despite Eric trying to push his probing hands away. Finding nothing wrong, Godric raised his head to glare. "Flying is your gift," he explained, not looking very excited at all. "Every one of us develops certain gifts, and rare ones seem to run in our bloodline. I had no idea what yours could have been."
As a human, Eric had never been able to climb cliffs or mountains. Yet now, what was impossible was now effortless, and he was merely trying to test himself. "I wanted to see what would happen if I fell," he admitted, because, at the time, he was feeling invincible and immortal and unbreakable. Eric’s arrogance had gotten the best of him in that moment and he had stumbled purposefully. "Yet before I hit the ground I shot up into the air!"
"You fell on purpose," Godric stated in a perfectly monotone before his panic gave way. "You fell on purpose!? What were you thinking?! You could have died! Your head could have gotten cut off or your heart staked! You could have been injured and taken years to heal!"
Eric was quiet after Godric's outburst. None of that would have happened. It was not high enough a cliff. Every instinct told him to apologize submissively to his maker, but the adrenaline was still pumping through Eric’s body. "But none of that happened. I flew." He just could not understand why Godric was not excited for him.
Godric gave an exasperated huff. "I do not want you doing that again. You fly only in emergencies," he ordered. Eric was enough of a handful on the ground. What was to happen if he were up in the air and decided to pull another outrageous stunt?
Eric ignored him. What was the fun in flying only in emergencies? "It is times like these that you show your age, whatever that may be. If it were not for me, you would still be sleeping on a rock in a cave in the pitch darkness,” he argued with his maker. "You cannot fly? Have you tried? What can you do that I cannot?" A surge of questions flooded Eric and he suddenly could not ask them fast enough.
"No, I cannot fly," the boy snapped. The very thought of being off the ground made him panic. "And neither are you to fly except for in emergencies.”
Eric rolled his eyes. There was nothing dangerous about flying. When he did it, he felt like he had complete control. "You are just saying that because you have not done it. Let me show you! I bet I can carry you and do it!" Excitement gripped Eric once again.
"No, I enjoy my feet firmly on the ground," Godric told his child. "It is dangerous, Eric, you could get hurt.”
"I will not. I have been practicing. You must see!" he insisted, so pumped full of adrenaline he was practically shaking. "Or are you frightened? Is that why? You are afraid of heights?" Eric bit back a wide grin.
"I am not afraid," Godric denied quickly. He could climb the tallest trees and cliffs without it bothering him, but then, he was in control. "You will hurt yourself," he said again.
"No, I will not," Eric insisted again sternly. It was downright adorable to see Godric frightened of a little thing such as flying and Eric loved it, despite his maker's disapproval. "You know... they say you never really get over your fear until you face it. Come here... I want to show you!" He took a few steps towards Godric.
"No, Eric." Godric said, perhaps backing away from something for the first time in years.
Now, Eric was determined. And when Eric Northman was determined, nothing could stand in the way of what he wanted, not while he was mortal, and certainly not while he was a vampire.
They played their games often. Therefore, Eric knew exactly how to grab his maker without Godric escaping him. Eric lunged at him, wrapping his arms around Godric’s slim waist and lifted him up effortlessly. He held him tight, and before his maker could even realize what was going on, Eric shot up into the air.
Godric panicked and clung to Eric; his child was the only thing keeping him from hitting the ground. He was too scared to even scream. The Viking had flown into the air above the trees, but his ecstatic grin faded when he realized his maker was having a panic attack, as absurd as that was. Eric landed clearing in the forest about a half mile from where they were previously. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he let go of Godric.
“I told you it was fun.”
Godric stumbled until he was on his hands and knees. It took him a few moments to stop panicking, and a low growl soon began in his chest. Not trusting himself to even look at his child without smacking him, he shakily rose to his feet and took off at top speed back to the cave they were calling home.
Eric knew right away that this meant trouble, even if he could not say that he regretted it. How could something so amazing be a source of regret? Eric could only wish his maker had enjoyed flying as much as he had. He wished his maker could have been proud of him, because was that not what he had always been searching for? After all, he had mastered the art of flying so effectively over only the past few hours.
The Viking thoughtfully considered what had just happened. Now that the excitement was gone, he could think clearly. Heavy with remorse, Eric did not fly back. He did not even run back. Instead, he walked to their cave at the pace of a slow human, his head hung all the while.
He felt like every slow step back to the cave was one step closer to doom. He could remember coming home to his wife after months of fighting battles and having many other women. He could remember gathering bouquets to give her. Smiling at the memory, he found himself absent mindedly picking up the sleeping flowers from the forest floor. If anything, it was a distraction from thinking about how angry his maker would be once he got back.
By the end of his hike, Eric’s hands were full of vibrant, colorful flowers and he approached Godric very carefully. He extended a hand, his eyes still glued to the ground. Godric looked up and stared in confusion at Eric's gift, but reached out for the flowers anyway. "What is this, then?"
Eric's shoulders drooped when he realized a bunch of flowers would only be a bunch of flowers to Godric. He should have known Godric would not understand what flowers meant or even that they were a gift. Feeling rather silly, he sulked off into the cave and lay down on a pile of soft furs and stared at the rock walls.
Godric followed and sat down next to Eric. He placed the flowers on the fur and placed a gentle hand on Eric's shoulders. "Eric?" he questioned, "What are the flowers for?"
Eric was surprised to realize it had sparked his maker's curiosity enough to follow him into his furry bed of sorrow. He spoke softly to the wall, "I cannot believe you do not know. Humans have been giving bouquets of flowers to one another for centuries. Mostly to women. But I just thought... even though you are not a woman, you would still understand." Eric did not even really know what he was saying.
"But what does this mean?" Godric asked with a curious tilt of his head. He picked up the bouquet and sniffed them as he waited for Eric's answer.
"I do not know, Godric. It means many things. Like giving a ring or a necklace to a lover. A present to a loved one. Some humans do it for anniversaries; brides have them at their weddings," he tried to sum up what he had never thought to question before, but the task was surprisingly hard.
Godric seemed to like that answer and he grinned widely. "Thank you, Eric," he said softly, looking down at the flowers as if they were made of gold.
Eric was suspicious. There was no way something that simple could have turned Godric around that quickly. The boy was a volcano in an ice storm. Eric nuzzled further underneath the protective furs that smelled of both their scents mixed together. He continued to stare at the cracks in the rocks.
Teenage curiosity was something Godric was never able to grow out of. The older he became, the more he wondered about little things that he had never bothered to understand before. He smiled down at the flowers affectionately. "I should not have overreacted," he told Eric, "It is a very rare gift you have, you should be very proud."
Suddenly, Eric finally turned around to face Godric. "Yes, well, what else have you been hiding from me? I have to know. And how are you so different from me? I am hungry constantly. I feel as though I can drain an entire army of men and still not be satisfied. I have a constant erection, and I do not know what thoughts are mine anymore!"
"I have not hidden anything for you," Godric assured him; just because he did not tell Eric things did not mean he was hiding them. "The hunger will diminish the older you are. Have patience."
Eric faced the wall again and glared in frustration. He felt as though he were at mercy of the beast within him now, a beast he was still trying to get to understand. "And when will that be? Years, centuries?" he snorted.
"I do not know. I do not remember how long it took me," Godric confessed. He put the flowers to one side of their makeshift bed and lay down beside Eric. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed the back of his neck.
Eric did not react at all. "I do not think you ever grow out of it. I think you just learned to control it. And I am never very good at learning and controlling," he mumbled.
"You are a very quick learner. And I love your impulsiveness," his maker reassured him with a smile. “You just need to give yourself more time. You are so young still, only an infant.” Godric soothed him by rubbing his strong, muscular arms. "I love my flowers," he whispered into Eric’s ear.
Eric wished he could put them in a water jug to preserve them for Godric, because what were they going to do with sticks and dirt? He felt silly now for picking flowers for a demon boy. "I do not know any other kind of infant that craves blood and sex more than food and water," he muttered to the wall, not wanting to admit that he felt comforted just from the feel and smell and sound of his maker near him. He turned over to face Godric and buried his head in his maker’s bare chest. "I am hungry now," he whined.
"Shall we hunt?" Godric asked even though he knew that was not what Eric wanted.
Eric whined again, "You never want me to drink from you. All you do is tease, tease, tease, and all I can do is want, want, want."
Godric frowned at the accusation. "I do not tease. I worry that you are not getting enough human blood," he insisted.
Eric finally lifted his head. "I am not getting enough of your blood. It is the only thing that stops the hunger. I hunt once a night, is that not enough?" With Godric, it was more than just blood and hunger and lust. Drinking his blood satisfied other cravings in Eric that there were no words for.
"All right. I will just have to make sure you feed from me when you wake up and before we rest during the day," Godric offered.
Eric shook his head. "You still do not understand," he argued, but he left it at that, too exhausted to try and explain further.
"Shh," Godric soothed his aching child and pushed him onto his back. He kissed Eric's lips chastely before biting down on his own tongue deeply so that the wound would not heal too quickly and kissed his child passionately. Eric moaned and immediately opened his mouth to welcome the bloody kiss. His fangs sharpened with a snap, and savagely, he deepened the kiss, not wasting a single drop.
Only when Godric felt the wound healing did he pull away. "My own lovely Viking," he whispered against Eric's lips, "Do you have any idea how happy you make me?"
Eric swallowed the last draught of the best aphrodisiac he had ever tasted. His erection was obvious in between them, and he knew he was not the only one well aware of its presence. Eric refused to break contact with those lips that still smelled like his blood. "I want to mate," he begged.
Godric moaned and felt himself grow hard with Eric's words. He pinned his child’s wrists down and nipped at his neck. "Want to play a game?" he offered.
Eric grinned when he realized Godric was not going to tease anymore. "Only if I win in the end," he teased instead.
Godric chuckled, "Do you not always win?”
It was Eric’s turn to moan. He was being tested to his limits tonight. "What game are we going to play?" he asked impatiently with a devilish grin that he hoped would win over his lover.
"Hmmm," Godric pondered as he nibbled Eric's neck, "What would you like? Predator and prey? Slave and master?”
Yes, all of those things and more, Eric thought to himself. His grin widened, and when he sat up, Godric fell onto his back. Eric was immediately on top of him. "I want you to be my slut. My willing slave."
Godric shot a fanged grin up at him before falling into character. "Please, Master," he begged like a perfect little whore.
In one swift, carefully practiced motion, Eric threw Godric onto all fours on the mattress of thick furs, and grabbed his hips. He pressed his hard erection against the cleft of Godric’s ass and gazed down at his lover spread open for him.
"I am yours, only yours," Godric admitted, and moaned as Eric penetrated deep into his soul.
Nikolas Eric Northman lived a good life. He was a trade merchant with a lovely wife who was expecting their first child in spring. His father had been a great warrior. Nikolas had been five years old when his mother sat him down and told him that his father had died a hero to their people. Now, more than twenty years later, there was not a man, woman, or child who did not recognize Nikolas’ surname and respect it.
He was visiting a town far from his home, selling his merchandise, when a boy caught his eye. There was nothing outright noticeable about the poor beggar-child roaming the streets, but what caught Nikolas' attention was the way the boy moved when he thought no one was watching. There was something Nikolas could not quite place. Curiously, he followed the boy into a dark alley where he seemed to disappear.
He reappeared quickly enough and slammed Nikolas into the brick wall with ease. The boy, who much smaller and shorter than himself, had him easily pinned down with just the very tips of his fingertips. Nikolas caught only a glimpse into the child's face, with eyes that showed ancient age and sharp fangs aimed at his throat, and he braced himself for the worst. Nikolas clenched his eyes shut and whimpered, stricken with panic.
However, the boy seemed to freeze just a breath’s width away from his neck and just sniffed him. The demon child dropped Nikolas immediately and took off into the night faster than Nikolas could blink an eye.
Once Eric could hunt independently without trouble, they learned to do it alone. Eric could not watch as Godric seduced the men he killed. When he did, he ended up shredding them into unrecognizable pieces so that not even a vampire could feed off of them. It was during these moments alone that he collected presents for his maker, whether it was clothes, books, or more flowers.
Tonight began no differently. Eric impatiently waited on Godric's return, and when at last he came into a vampire's eyesight, Eric grinned. "I stole some new furs for us, better than our last,” he boasted proudly, his fangs sharp with excitement. “We have worn out our bed."
"Hm. I cannot imagine how that happened," Godric replied with a smile even if he did seem a bit distracted. When he was right in front of Eric, his arms wrapped around his waist and he inhaled his lover's scent. Doubts filled his head.
"I want to show them to you," Eric pouted. They were a rare fur, very luxurious and expensive. Those things would mean nothing to Godric, but it did not mean Eric would have settled for anything less.
"As long as you are on the furs, I am sure they will be divine. How was your hunt?" Godric asked.
"Satisfying," he shrugged. "I still want to show you..." Eric tried to coax him towards the cave, his voice a whine that he knew Godric could not refuse.
"All right, all right." Godric gave in. "Show me these wonderful furs you have stolen with the sole purpose of seducing me with."
Eric pouted again. "That's not-" he stopped when he heard the distinct snap of a twig. He froze and looked off into the forest with his preternatural sight. "A deer?" he asked, sniffing the air.
Godric held still and listened, knowing it was not a deer and that he had made a mistake. "Perhaps," he lied, "Let us go in and you can show me my present."
Eric knew that there was something strange in the way Godric dismissed whatever creature was scentless and watching them in the forest. Yet the promise of lying down with him on newly stolen furs was too good to interrupt, and Eric found himself following Godric back into the cave without a second thought.
While his maker had been gone earlier that evening, Eric had spread the furs out and over each other in the best way he could to imitate a bed. To show them off, he lay down and tried to tug his maker down with him. Instead of lying beside Eric on the furs, Godric sat down next to him.
"Eric, do you ever miss your human life? You had a wife… and children?"
"I did not drag you in here to talk about my children," Eric frowned. That life was past him now. It was one stage of immortality, before he became the greater being that his maker made him. Before he became what he was meant to be.
"All you ever think about is sex, my Viking," Godric snickered. His fingers dragged over Eric's ribs, lightly, wanting to make him squirm a little. He took Eric's large, hands and pinned them beside his head and bore his fangs as he smiled. Godric could still feel the presence of the other outside the mouth of the cave, though he now felt it had moved further away. He would distract Eric from sensing it himself while it lingered in the air, and they laid low, safely in the darkness.
Eric chuckled "And all you ever think about is rejecting me. You like doing it. You trick yourself into believing that you can resist me, when really you cannot," he teased back.
"You think you know me so well," Godric smiled, "I am glad I found you, my Viking."
Eric grinned proudly. "Why did you want to make me?" he asked. Godric had told him before that it was his strength and courage on the battlefield that had stood out to Godric and had made him believe that Eric would be a good vampire to raise. Eric wanted to know if there was more to it than that.
"When you fell on the battlefield, I knew I could not let someone so beautiful die. You were so alive. I wanted you by my side," Godric whispered.
Eric gazed up at his lover like he was once again feverish and delirious by the blade that had stabbed him that night and Godric was only a vision. "When I saw you, I knew nothing so beautiful could be alive. I thought you were there to slash my throat and I thought… how ironic that I would lust after my own death."
Godric leaned down to capture Eric's lips in a gentle kiss, but ended it before his child could deepen it. Eric made a pained whine like a begging dog when Godric pulled away, leaving him dissatisfied. "What is wrong? Something is bothering you," he questioned boldly.
"Nothing is wrong," Godric reassured him. “Stop imagining things.”
It was only a minute later that Eric heard it. It was the same clumsy, heavy footfall, and this time, a larger twig snapped noisily in half under the weight of their intruder. That was when the split decision was made. Eric emitted a low, dangerous growl, his only warning before he used his vampiric speed to bolt out of their cave as fast as he could after whatever it was that was disturbing the peace.
"Eric, wait!" Godric cried out, following behind him quickly.
Eric did not have time to think about consequences of fast, territorial, aggressive decisions before he tackled the nameless being to the ground. He gasped when the monster did not put up a fight. As if in shock, the human-like creature fell to the ground as if tackling him had been enough to send him into a fainting spell.
Still growling, Eric shoved the creature into the moonlight. Nothing could have prepared him then for what he saw. "I know that face," he whispered in a chaotic mixture of astonishment and fear as he stared. If the Viking had still been human, he was sure he would have joined his son in lying comatose on the dirt ground.
Godric stared down at the boy. "Did you kill it?" he asked, but the sound of the human heart answered that question for him.
Eric was so consumed with shock that he did not hear his maker approach. As a Viking, Eric did not see his son often in his mortal life, but he had dreamed every night of the moment his son would join him in battle. And yet, here he was. Eric had not thought of him or his wife since he had been bitten by Godric. He did not know how many years had gone by until he was looking straight into the eyes of his past. His son was still a boy, only a few years older than his maker had been when Eric was made.
He wondered if, in his last moment of consciousness, the boy had seen his father's face or if he instead saw the face of a ghost with fangs and heard an animalistic growl, smelling of blood and sex.
"He is not an ‘it’!" Eric shouted angrily at his maker, "It... it is my son, he has grown!"
"You should kill it before it wakes," Godric ignored him, as he sneered down at the unconscious boy.
When Eric looked over at his maker, he saw something in his eyes he had never seen before. Instinctively, he stepped in between his maker and his son. "Are you crazy?! This is my son! He is not a meal!"
Godric frowned and eyed the boy jealously. If Eric had to choose between them, would he choose this human? "I won’t hurt it," he compromised.
Once Eric believed that Godric would not harm his son, he took another few steps backwards and collapsed onto the ground. He brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He ducked his head and tried to remember he did not have to breathe.
"Eric?" Godric asked worriedly. He could not understand how Eric was feeling; he barely remembered his own human family. It had been so long ago.
"Why did he follow you back here!?" Eric demanded with bloody eyes. He knew he was an even more fearsome sight like this. He could not have his son see him or remember him like this.
Godric looked away. "He followed me in town. I was going to feed off of him, but his familiar smell stopped me," he confessed quietly. "I did not realize he would follow me here. I was foolish."
Eric was still in a panic. What was his son's name? He searched desperately inside the darkest parts of his memory for a name and remembered: Nikolas. "We have to leave and never come back here. We have to return him to my..." he stopped when he remembered his wife for the first time in years. His son seemed young still, and Eric was sure he had taken over the duty of caring for his mother. He did not have a ring on his finger yet. His own ring had been lost and forgotten somehow, perhaps even before his birth to darkness. He used to take it off on his travels. It seemed to interfere with bedding other women.
"He is no longer your child, Eric,” Godric reminded him gently, “He is no longer your responsibility.”
"You do not understand! You are too old to know what it is like! I hope I never end up as cold as you!" Eric raised his face from his hands to shout at his maker.
Eric's words stung, but Godric’s expression did not change. "All right, then. Go back to the cave and I will convince him he fell and hit his head. He will think he imagined it," he offered.
Eric stumbled as he stood, as though he were still a clumsy, young vampire. He could not trust Godric, not with this. He had wanted to kill Nikolas, after all. His maker was an animal. He had lost his humanity long ago, and was now a creature made of stone. "No, I do not believe you. I will take him back to the house while he is still unconscious.” Eric knelt down beside his son and lifted the boy limply into his arms.
Godric sighed but did not try to stop him. "Be careful," he warned.
Eric was not fooled for an instant. Godric was going to follow him. He knew that. There was not a time that Godric ever let his child out of his sight except when the two of them were feeding in separate areas.
The boy was weightless in Eric’s arms but his own limbs were still heavy with despair. It was then that he realized he did not know where he was going. "I... I forget where it is," he said into the open air around him.
Godric sighed and looked to the sky as if it held the answers. He should have killed the boy when he had the chance. "Why do you have to take him anywhere? Just leave him in town and let him find his own way home."
Eric almost jumped at his maker's voice behind him. He turned around to glare at his maker. "What? And leave him there to be killed?" he growled. "I do not need your help!" And with that, he was off. He did not know where he was going. He could have flown, but he feared what would happen to the boy if he woke. With every step away from the forest, he searched his mind deeper for another inch of memory from a past life.
He did not know how long it took, but eventually his feet took him to what had once been his house. He had built it himself. It was strong and sturdy and he was glad of that now. He wondered how skilled his son was with his hands after not growing up with a father. Eric watched the smoke rise from the chimney and he knew his wife was inside. She was probably wondering where her son had disappeared to. Or maybe she was used to his absence. Maybe he was more like his father than not.
The boy stirred in his arms and immediately Eric dropped him on the grass. He took cautious steps away from him in order to be cloaked in the shadows. Eric hoped Nikolas would wake up thinking he’d had a nightmare. If only he could have the same pleasure.
Nicolas stirred again as he regained consciousness, and before he opened his eyes, Eric had taken flight. Godric lingered in the shadows and he continued to watch the boy wake. He listened to the other heartbeat coming from inside the little house.
Eric liked flying. There was something empowering that came with the feeling of being above everything when he was this high up in the air. The change in altitude did nothing to harm him and flight was now as effortless as breathing once had been. Many times as a mortal, in between battles, he had stared up at the stars during drunken nights next to the campfire and wondered exactly what it was like to do just this.
It took his mind off his son, but he could not stay in flight forever. He had to get out of these woods. They had to find a new forest, a new cave, and why not a house? He wondered how monstrous they really were. Would the gods strike them down if they lived in a house like civilized humans, or were they meant to live in caves and beneath the dirt like animals?
Gathering up his belongings was an easy task. He did not have much but the clothes on his back and the collection of furs. When Godric finally joined him moments later, the boy panicked. "What are you doing?" he asked.
When he heard Godric's voice, Eric jumped. "I told you we cannot stay here! We need to leave!" he insisted, wondering why Godric was not equally concerned that a human had found their hideout.
Godric sighed quietly. "It will be fine, Eric. The boy will just think he dreamed all of it. What are the chances that he will be able to remember the exact path that led here? It is miles away."
Eric growled and threw the heap of blankets at Godric. It missed him by a significant amount. He was not in the right state of mind to worry about accuracy. "Because no son of mine is an idiot and he knows where we are!"
"You are over-reacting. Calm down," Godric said as he grabbed Eric's arms to keep him still. Sometimes, touching Eric soothed him.
Not this time, however. Eric withdrew as if his maker’s touch had burnt him. He did not know where to go, and he suddenly felt very lost. If they were going to relocate, it would be Godric's choice of where and when. With an angry glare in his maker's direction, Eric could do nothing but walk inside the cave to sit with his back against the wall and his head between his knees.
Eric had never pulled away from him before, and Godric’s hurt turned to anger. "Shall I go back to that little house and drain them all? Then will you forget about these mortals?" he hissed.
"If you do, I will hate you forever!" Eric screamed from inside the cave through his tears.
That instantly stopped any murderous thought Godric might have had. He softened and slowly approached Eric in the darkness. "I am sorry," he confessed, sitting cross-legged in front of Eric. "I would not have hurt them. I was just upset that you may wish to leave me now, and I lashed out. I could never hurt anyone that was a part of you. In town, I let the boy go only because he smelled vaguely of you."
Eric finally lifted his head from its hiding place and glared at Godric with blood-rimmed eyes. "You were going to kill him. You wanted to, you still do," he accused, because he had heard the words come right out of his maker's mouth. Eric craved his maker's comfort instinctually but his anger kept him from him.
"But I did not," Godric pointed out in his defense.
It did not matter if Godric did or not. The point was that he had wanted to and he tried. Eric did not understand why, except only to be cruel. "You do not understand," he said again. After all, how could he? He was a child himself when he was turned into this creature. What did he know of family and sons and wives?
"I know, and I am sorry that I do not," Godric said quietly, “I wanted to kill him because he had your love and attention. How many times have you torn out the throats of men who merely glanced my way?"
Eric had nothing to say to that. The fact that his son might think of his father as a demon-like creature and not a hero tortured him the most. He never truly knew his mortal family, not really. He preferred battle and drinking and other women to the quiet comforts of domestic life.
Godric worried after Eric’s silence. “We will still leave here if you wish it,” he told Eric.
It was not until then that Eric sat up with his tear-stained face and practically flung himself at Godric in a heaping mess of pathetic tears. He wrapped his arms around the boy’s waist as if he were a child and clung to him. His head buried itself in his maker's torso, breathing in Godric’s scent and the only comfort he was able to find.
Godric sighed and looked down at Eric. "It is all right, Eric," he soothed and his fingers threaded through his child's hair.
Godric's voice was like balm to his nerves, and Eric relaxed, but did not loosen his grip. He was glued to Godric with no intention of letting go, even to move to safety. He took in deep, human-like breaths as if he was learning to breathe again.
"Do you wish to stay here another night? Perhaps we can choose a town and live in a proper house and live as common mortals would. You can teach me how. Would you like that?" Godric offered.
Words failed Eric as he nodded his reply against his maker's abdomen. The hands through his hair were the most comforting of all and they lulled him into a sense of security he had only ever felt with Godric. "Good," Godric whispered. He gently maneuvered them onto the blankets that made up their bed.
Eric did not lessen his death grip around Godric even when he found he was lying on top of him. Godric was consumed again with worry when his child did not lift his head. "Are you hungry? You may feed from me if you wish."
Lazily, Eric perked up and finally lifted his head. He nuzzled his maker’s neck, because that was enough of an answer. Godric tilted his head to the side to give Eric room as his fingers continued to tangle in Eric’s hair. He did not understand Eric's pain, but he felt it as his own all the same.
"Drink," he whispered.
Eric did not hesitate before he drove his fangs deeply into Godric as though he were starving. If he had been in the right state of mind, he would have been afraid to take too much from him, but all he wanted was to fill himself with love and security and peacefulness. He moaned hot against Godric’s throat with each long draught.
Godric chuckled. "My fierce warrior," he whispered to Eric as he fed.
Eric woke up the next night in his usual disarray, with a painful hardness and a hollow, crippling hunger. As was the case most early evenings, Godric was already in town to catch his own meal, and Eric was alone.
Yet despite his hunger, Eric did not want to face a crowd of mortals that night. Instead, he took flight and closed his eyes as he ghosted above everything. Deep in thought and blinded by his hunger, Eric was aimless, not caring where his feet landed. He allowed his body to take over, to lead the way. He did not realize where his mind had led him until at last, he landed his feet on the ground and found himself staring right into the glass window eyes of a house of his past. A fire burnt inside and smoked out of the chimney, and he should have been satisfied with that. But he was not. His feet led him further towards the house, and he gingerly peered inside, feeling like a ghost.
"What are you doing?" Godric’s voice came from behind Eric, startling him. Of course, Godric already knew what Eric was doing. He knew who this house belonged to.
Eric fell backwards in surprise, because having been a vampire for some time, he was not used to being snuck up on. Godric was the only being on this Earth that could sneak up on Eric, and therefore, he did it often. Eric stood up quickly in an attempt to restore his dignity. "I am not doing anything. I hate when you sneak up on me," he growled with bold audacity.
"That is why I did it," Godric answered simply, "Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here?"
There were not many times that Eric witnessed true anger in Godric. He was used to his maker's pliant indifference. Yet when he did see the fire in Godric's eyes, it struck fear in him to his core. "It is the middle of the night. I am allowed to make sure my family is all right. That is all I am doing," Eric growled.
"You are not allowed to endanger your life. You are dead to them, Eric. If they see you they will think you a demon and we will have the whole town hunting us down," Godric hissed, though keeping his voice low.
This was cruel. Godric was a huge contradiction in and of himself, and his words pierced Eric’s heart and opened a wound only now discovered. "That is not true. You do not know them," Eric insisted angrily. "I was not going to show myself to them; I am more careful than that. I just came to observe. You cannot stop me from checking on my own family." His fangs sharpened then as they often did when frustration overtook him.
Godric stepped right in front of him. "I cannot stop you? Really?" he raised an eyebrow as he spoke calmly.
Eric stumbled backwards and his back collided with the house. "I am doing nothing wrong. There is no law stating that our kind cannot watch over humans. There is no law saying I need to give up my past!" he insisted.
Godric sighed. "It only hurts you to see them, so why torture yourself?"
Eric glared at him. "It is none of your business why I come here," he crossed his arms desultorily over his chest.
"I am trying to be patient with you and as usual, you are trying that patience," Godric warned, fighting the urge to drag Eric away by his hair if he had too.
Eric was gripped then with agonizing pain and he realized he was starving. His skin clung too tightly to his bones and his head pounded. The emptiness in his veins demanded bloodshed and it crippled him. His face contorted in angst and he sank further into the shadows.
When Godric realized what was happening, he could not believe that Eric had come here without hunting first. "Here," he whispered as he bit into his own wrist and offered it to Eric. "Drink," he ordered.
Eric's fangs sharpened instinctually when he smelt his maker’s blood. He hated Godric for wanting him so much then, because the stubborn Viking wanted to stay angry. Godric was sneaky like that, Eric had determined. He would rather Godric strike him or command him never to go back to this house, rather than offer that wrist. Nevertheless, Eric dropped to his knees and savagely drank from him as though it was for the first time. He suckled reverently, and made animalistic noises of contentment during each deep draught.
Godric's own fangs breeched as his child fed from him and he stifled his own moan, since Eric was making enough noise for the both of them. "Shhh, Eric, you must be quiet," he warned. He ran his fingers through Eric’s blonde hair to calm him.
Eric continued to feed greedily, and his tiger-like purrs, which traveled with his loud moans, shook through both their bodies. He could hear Godric's voice from far away as he drank his blood, but Eric did not stifle his loud, desperate noises of hunger. He leaned heavily against Godric, sucking too fast for the blood to keep up.
Godric found himself on the ground with Eric leaning back against his chest. When he knew Eric had had enough he pulled his wrist forcefully away. "No more," he whispered.
It was not enough. Godric never gave him enough. "I need more. I need more!" Eric begged.
Godric put his hand over Eric's mouth to silence him. "You need to hunt, not drink from me," he said firmly.
Eric sat up, finally filled with strength, and wiped at his mouth. He had gulped down the blood so sloppily that his face was messy, as if still an infant vampire after his first kill. He tried to lick himself clean. It was then that he finally remembered where he was and he looked around his surroundings before he turned back to Godric sharply. "Do not hurt them."
Godric scoffed. "You think you need to protect them from me?" he stood up and licked the blood from his wrist as the wound healed. "I will not hurt your precious humans," he sneered.
"You threatened to-" Eric stopped when he heard a noise. It was a noise that stirred within the house. As Eric listened, he realized it was the awakening of a small infant. A baby. Its shriek pierced the silence, having heard their argument.
Eric’s face turned pale and his eyes widened. He stood up slowly and walked quickly and quietly to the house, hearing the soft soothing noises of a mother. He recognized the voice instantly and his dead heart sank with the realization.
Godric curiously stood on his tip toes so he could see in and saw nothing that should cause Eric's ire. "She is just helping it back to sleep. What is the matter?"
Eric jumped when Godric was suddenly by his side and his hands clenched into fists when it was obvious his maker did not understand. He took another step forward, and through vampiric eyes, he could see his wife. She was still youthful, as if she was one of them and had not aged, despite this new addition to her life. "It is not my child. That is my wife, but that is not my child!" he growled.
"It would make sense that she found comfort in the arms of another. It is what humans do."
Eric wanted to burn the house down with everything in it. He wondered if his son even recognized him in the forest. "She is a whore." He gritted his teeth. "And how do you know what humans do? You do not!"
"Human nature does not change," Godric told him. "Why should it bother you what she does now? Do you still want her?"
Eric bore his fangs to the window where the pretty, blonde woman cradled her infant and hummed to it softly. In his mortal life, she had been good to him. She bore him a son and prayed for him when he left for battle. He did not remember much more than that. "It does not matter if I want her! I was her husband and she has dishonored me with this!" That infant in her arms would not grow up in Eric's shadow, but in another man's.
Godric was about to say something, but he stopped when he heard something walk towards the house. Realizing who it must be, he grabbed his child's arm. "We must leave," he whispered.
Eric turned to look. It was a young, human man with a dead rabbit slung over his shoulder and a bow and arrow laced to his back. Eric fought against Godric's hand instantly, growling in frustration, his fangs aching. The man was tall, but not as tall as Eric. His hair was long and brown and tangled from spending the night in the woods. He was ordinary. "Let go of me," Eric fought, struggling violently. "I want him!"
"No!" Godric hissed.
Eric continued to push against Godric, his fangs desperate to sink into enemy flesh. "Let me go! I need to do it!"
Godric knew Eric would not give up, so instead of wrestling him, he bit down on his neck and quickly drained him until his child was sedated from blood loss. It did not take long, considering the only blood Eric had taken tonight had come a rationed supply from Godric himself. Now, his maker was taking it back. When Godric pulled away, his mouth was bloody as he hissed into Eric's ear, "I will not lose you to this insanity. I will not.” He hauled Eric up off the ground easily.
Eric’s body ached and cried out for sustenance. The hunger was eating him alive and he whimpered pathetically in pain.
Godric got Eric back to the cave within seconds and settled him down on their blanket of furs. "Do not leave the cave. I am going to get you a meal," he told Eric before he disappeared into the darkness. He needed to find the perfect prey so Eric could quench his thirst for violence.
Eric panicked when he realized Godric was going to leave him. He was not sure why, but he could not bear the thought. What if he did not come back? What if he was truly that angry?
However, an hour later, his maker returned with two men trailing after him like dogs in heat. Godric did not turn to face them until he reached the entrance of the cave and acted surprised when the humans 'snuck' up on him and grabbed him from behind. "Well, my boy, you certainly led us on a merry chase," one of the men snickered as he pulled Godric to him roughly.
Over the agonizingly slow hour, Eric's weakened body had regained at least enough strength to attack the two men the instant he saw one of them touch his maker. In one swift motion, he knocked both men unconscious while his fangs sank into the one who had touched him. Eric drank viciously, greedily, and sloppily as the man screamed in pain and fear and shock and finally fell lifeless, cold, and white to the dirt floor. Filled with stolen strength, Eric drank the second man's life away just as quickly as the first.
Godric did not move a muscle at Eric's violent reaction. He wondered if he’d brought these men to him for reasons other than to allow his child to express his rage. Watching Eric look back at his mortal life with angst twisted something deep inside Godric. Watching him yearn for his mortal wife in particular stirred something he had not felt in a long time.
Eric threw himself onto his back away from the men as he felt the blood engorge his body. After a moment’s hesitation, Godric kneeled down beside him. When Eric felt his maker’s tongue licking his chin and lips clean of blood, he lifted his head and planted a firm, deep kiss on his mouth. Full of blood, Godric was once again his living god, his reason and his world.
Eric woke the next night and Godric was gone. He knew his maker was only hunting but he yearned for him all the same, as if he were continents away. He did not want to think about the men Godric would seduce tonight, and instead, Eric turned his thoughts to anything but.
On the way to the village, his feet took a long detour as if they had a mind of their own, and he lifted his head only as he walked past his old house. Lost in thought, he startled when he heard the heavy, mortal footfalls approaching ahead, and Eric watched as the same man he had seen the night before walked out of the darkness of the woods. He was carrying his bow and arrow and a trophy from his hunt.
The hunter can so easily become the hunted, Eric thought to himself. It is just the way of nature, was that not what Godric had taught him? Unable to control himself, Eric’s fangs sharpened, and from the darkness came a deep, animalistic growl. The man instantly froze.
Eric realized his mistake the second the arrow buried itself deeply in his abdomen.
As soon as he felt the piercing of the weapon, Eric instinctively cried out and shot up into the night sky above the house. The arrow was still deeply imbedded inside him after stabbing his internal organs and he landed clumsily a few miles away, breaking an ankle in the process. There, he cried out in pain.
Godric felt his child’s agony instantly, as if it were his own. He located Eric within seconds and panicked when he found his child bleeding on the ground with an arrow through his side. He kneeled down beside Eric and tried to keep his voice calm. "The arrow has to come out, my love," he whispered softly, brushing a lock of hair out of Eric’s wide eyes.
Eric's fangs were sharp and his body broke out in a heavy sweat as he bled out onto the ground. He could die here, he realized, having not yet fed yet tonight and bleeding the very last of his life out onto the forest floor. His eyes welled up with tears to puddle on the ground, adding to his blood loss. In his panicked state, Eric remembered keenly the night he was made. He was suffering from fever from a wound that had been just as traumatic as this, and Godric had come to restore his life and share his secrets like a dark, beautiful nymph.
Godric knew Eric needed a distraction. He bit into his own wrist and held Eric as he placed his arm against his child’s open mouth. Eric latched onto the wound automatically and his body soon fell limp with the heavy sedation of his maker’s blood.
Godric knew it was now or never, and he yanked the arrow out as quickly as possible. Eric's head fell back onto the ground, his bloody mouth falling from Godric's wrist as he cried out. He felt as though a limb had been ripped off of his body. Arrows were designed to do more damage on the way out than the way in, Eric knew this well. It ripped him apart even more, and he whimpered in pain.
Godric bit into his wrist again and held it to Eric's mouth, effectively quieting him at the same time. "Drink," he ordered.
Eric could not turn away from the second offering of blood and he moaned as he drank faster than his maker's blood was willing to flow. The blood was warm and comforting like the milk of a mother, even though Eric could not ever remember feeling this way as a mortal child. He moaned again, but this time, it was not in pain. The warmth flowed into him, hypnotizing him, and lulling him into safety. He wanted to never touch the blood of a mortal ever again.
"You went without feeding tonight again?" Godric asked knowingly as Eric drank.
Another small moan was Eric's only reply as he continued to drink, feeling his maker's wound close up along with his own. In frustration, he sucked harder, trying to will the wound to stay open for him. Soon, he was only licking what had spilt down Godric’s arm. Abandoning all hope for more, he turned his newly healed body around so that he was facing his maker and buried his face in his chest. He wished he could crawl inside of him.
Godric wrapped his arms around Eric and they just sat there for a few minutes before Godric spoke. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"
Eric thrilled at the gentle affection and the relief of the pain and hunger. He could not remember why he had been so foolish. "I do not wish to. I want you to keep holding me," he said quietly.
Godric closed his eyes and ran his fingers through Eric’s tangled hair. "I do not like seeing you hurt," he whispered.
Eric nuzzled deeper against him and inhaled Godric’s scent with the aid of the muscles in his newly-healed abdomen. It was as if the arrow had never pierced him. Only the blood staining the ground was proof of his wounds. He wiggled his ankle painlessly.
He was meant for this life, he knew that now. He could not hold onto his past when there was so much for him in the future. "I am sorry. Trouble always finds me, and I have only myself to blame…" he confessed.
"You will learn," Godric soothed him.
Eric finally lifted his head and laid a begging, chaste kiss on Godric's lips. Then another, and another. Each kiss lasted longer than the last and Eric waited desperately for the moment when his maker would part his lips so that he could take it further.
Godric smiled when he eventually kissed Eric back. Seeing his child hurt so badly had broken his soul, and he could deny Eric nothing. Eric’s fangs scraped clumsily against Godric's tongue and his own. When the older vampire broke the kiss, Eric continued to lay his lips gently on Godric’s, licking his maker’s beautiful, full bottom lip.
"I want to build us a house," he said randomly, "With a warm fire and a soft bed so I can make love to you properly."
Godric's lips quirked at the thought. "So what have we been doing all this time, then? Making love improperly?" he teased.
Eric grinned wide, and Godric could have sworn he felt his heart kick to life. "We have made love properly only because I have brought nice, luxurious furs to your cave, which you hardly notice. Besides, you said yourself we can go. I wish to leave and begin a new life with you."
"I did, didn't I?" Godric smiled, remembering his promise. He let his hand slide down the newly healed skin on Eric's belly. He knew how he had gotten the wound and who had delivered it. This was a trial his child had to survive, though knowing that did not make it any less painful to watch.
Eric laid his head down in Godric's lap in an act of submissiveness that still comforted him. "I will never go there again, I swear it," he vowed earnestly, knowing his maker would know what he meant.
"It was cruel of me to try and stop you, I know that now. I was young when I was taken, Eric. I know nothing of the life you once led, but you should be grateful that you had once led it. Yet I tell you now that holding onto it will drive you mad. You will only watch them grow old and die or suffer from mortal sickness. And you will still go on."
Eric shook his head. "I never fully knew them. I never really knew anything," he whispered, even though he was not sure what he meant. It was hard to use words to explain how he was feeling. However, with Godric, he suspected he’d need not say anything at all. “I would give up everything over and over again. I would lie down and die a thousand times to be with you in death,” Eric confessed as he turned onto his back to look up at his maker. The full moon illuminated his head in a halo of light.
Father, brother, son, lover.
“My child,” Godric smiled down at him. “You are my heart’s blood.”
Godric ran as fast as he could back to the cave as the first ray of sunlight breeched the night sky a few nights later. These hunters were smart, smarter than Godric had anticipated, and they had discovered quite quickly that they were not hunting normal prey. After rumors spread around the village of demons in the woods, an army of strong men with large weapons quickly formed.
"Get up, Eric. We have to leave. Now,” Godric violently shook his child awake where he was sleeping in their nest of furs. When the younger vampire felt familiar small hands forcing him awake, he resisted and hid his face in his arm. “Eric, get up, we have to leave this place now!"
Eric quickly recognized the panic in his maker’s voice and his eyes snapped open, "Why?”
"We are being hunted by very persistent humans," Godric tried to explain quickly.
"What?" Eric asked again lamely. He must not have heard his maker right. Humans? Here? No one knew of their lonely cave, not even the animals of the forest. And now they were here? "Where do we go?"
"Anywhere but here," Godric hurried. "Come, we must go!"
Eric followed closely behind Godric out of the cave and heard the stomping of booted feet and deep, angry voice echoing through the peace of the forest. His maker suddenly halted and Eric did the same. It was then that he said his silent goodbyes to the warmth of their cave and the dirt at his feet and the shelter of the trees. He smiled, knowing that this was not the end of their story. It was only the start of a new chapter.
“Take us into the air, Eric. Quickly,” Godric ordered as he turned around.
Eric laughed then, and the moon reflected off of his gleaming fangs. It was the thrill of the chase that excited him. “You are allowing it? Suddenly you approve of my special, dangerous gift?” he teased.
Godric stared at him, not knowing what could possibly make his mad child laugh. “You foolish idiot, what choice do we have? Hurry!”
Eric lifted his maker effortlessly up into his arms and twirled him around in the air above him for a moment despite Godric’s sharp glare, angry protests, and kicking legs. The Viking laughed again before he held him closer again and shot up into the sky.
He felt the very world at his fingertips. There was so much still unexplored and he had an eternity to discover it. This time, his laugh was muffled against the hiss of the wind, but Godric felt it echo in his soul.
Godric gasped when he woke suddenly.
For a moment he could do nothing but lay passively on his back as his scattered mind processed all that had happened. He remembered the witch and he remembered Eric taking care of him even as every second of it pained his child.
Most importantly, however, he remembered everything else.
Godric turned to Eric, who was still deep in sleep. He was automatically tempted to wake him, but when he remembered how tired his child had been, he hesitated. Instead, he turned onto his side and watched Eric sleep as he waited for him to wake.
Eric frowned in distress, deep in a nightmare. Godric sensed this, sat up, and eyed his child worriedly. "Eric, it is all right," he soothed gently. "You are all right, Child." His arms wrapped around Eric and pulled him close.
Eric breathed in the comforting, familiar scent of his maker and quieted right away. He felt the calm fall over him like a blanket and his chest fell for the last time as his body relaxed.
Godric kissed his forehead softly. "My love, wake up," he coaxed him gently.
Eric felt the gentle tug towards consciousness with the sound of his maker's voice. He opened his eyes half way to gaze into Godric's and the sadness consumed him all over again. He did not want to wake up to this reality another night. Mumbling something, he rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow.
Godric smiled and stretched himself on top of Eric's back to whisper in his ear. "I've missed you. I know I was here, but I feel like I wasn't. I feel like I have not seen you in days," he said, kissing the back of Eric's neck.
Eric did not move from his hiding place. "What are you talking about?" his voice was muffled by the pillow.
"I am just telling you how much I've missed you, Child. The spell wore off on its own," he said as he continued to kiss every inch of Eric’s skin he could reach.
Eric was on his back so fast it would have made a human's head spin. He looked straight into his maker's eyes, and if he were human, he would have held his breath. "Tell me something you would only know if you were telling the truth," he said hurriedly.
Godric raised an eyebrow. "I gave you this," he said, fingering the talon necklace around Eric's neck. "And I do not believe I have seen you take it off since."
Eric continued to stare. His hands immediately went to embrace Godric and turn him over onto his back before he quickly covered his maker’s body with his own. "You've returned to me? Just like that?" His eyes were wide with shock and brimmed with red.
"It must have worn off," Godric nodded.
"I was lost without you," Eric admitted as he lowered his forehead to his maker's chest.
"So you had to suffer with my teenage hormones that I have to constantly beat back. You poor, poor thing," Godric laughed, but before his child could speak, he added, "You did a very good job taking care of me, Eric. Thank you."
"You are my maker. I could do nothing else," Eric answered plainly before he changed the subject. "Isabel bought us this house. Do you like it?" He smiled, knowing that this was much more his maker's taste than Fangtasia.
"I do like it. Isabel has good taste, why do you think I have let her do my shopping for the last forty years? Knowing her, that closet is probably full of clothes."
Eric did not have a chance to respond before the vampire they had been discussing burst through the door and threw herself at the foot of their bed as if deep in prayer. When she lifted her head, there was hope and astonishment in her eyes. "Godric?" she asked, her accent thickening with emotion. "You're back?"
"Isabel, thank you for everything," Godric answered with a smile.
"The witch, has she been found?" Eric quickly demanded.
Isabel heaved a sigh, hardly unable to believe it was over. "The King panicked when he was outnumbered by Godric's army of allies. He gave her over and now she is finished. The King is on trial as we speak. I suspect that is why the spell broke overnight."
Eric only wished he could have done the killing himself. His body swelled with relief. "I will tell the others the news you are back," Isabel said excitedly as she hurried off to leave them alone once again. Eric would not have had it any other way, and it was not a second later that he pounced on his maker.
Godric laughed and effortlessly pinned Eric down onto his back and straddled his hips, balancing his gentle weight in all the right places. "Haven't you had enough over the last thousand years, my insatiable Viking?" he teased.
"Never," Eric insisted. His eyes brimmed with red and tears threatened to overflow.
"Don't cry, my Child," Godric nuzzled him. "I am here."