Story Summary: Funeral is a True Blood story that picks up following Season 6, Episode 7. Nora has just died, and—at Bill's request—Sookie has brought Warlow back to the human realm. Will the death that surrounds them cause Eric and Sookie to choose life—that "other" life they could have together?
Now—I know that come Sunday, the version of events in this story will be null and void; however, while Eric and Sookie are in the same zip code, I wanted to continue the story my way. ;)
Disclaimer: All publicly recognized characters, images, lines of dialogue, and plot lines are the sole property of their creators. I own only my own imagination as it involves the characters I love; however, even my imaginary constructions would be impossible without True Blood and the Southern Vampire Mystery series. My work is not-for-profit and intended only for the enjoyment of the writer and readers. No copyright infringement is intended.
Acknowledgments & Dedication: I want to dedicate this story to all Eric & Sookie fans, who see what this couple "could" be if their "makers" would let them reach their full potential. And as always, I want to acknowledge CDB33. This story is for you—because every once in a while, things should go the way YOU want them to go. If you liked this piece, I hope that you will check out my other stories and my WordPress site: californiakat1564 . wordpress . com (just take out the spaces).
Final Note: This is not a long story. It will be about 4 or 5 chapters. The inspiration bug bit and I wrote; however, Comfortably Numb has NOT been shelved! A new chapter of it will be coming soon. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this. It will not be going though as vigorous an editing job as I usually try to do with my stories, so forgive any errors.
Funeral
Chapter 1: Death All Around
Sookie's POV
It felt like my blood was pulling me to Bill's house, but I wasn't sure why. Still—I let my feet have free reign and take me for a walk across the graveyard.
I certainly wasn't going to make sure Bill didn't harm his "child," even though I'd just witnessed Ben—or Warlow or whatever his name was—being dragged in the direction of Bill's mansion because of the call of his "maker."
Nope. I was done giving any kind of fuck about Warlow. By trying to manipulate me and blackmail me into being "his" by holding my friends' lives over my head, he had pretty much screwed up any chance he might have had with me.
Oh—and then there was my moment of coherent thought! Warlow had likely killed everyone at the fairy "club," including Claude. How I'd "let that go" for even a minute and then slept with him was beyond me!
But—then again—I wasn't always the most "meticulous" of thinkers. And self-destruction was my middle name. I sighed. I really should get cards printed up with Sookie "Danger Whore" Stackhouse on them.
I certainly wasn't walking towards Bill's house to see its current owner either. Was it even still Bill? Billith seemed like a more appropriate moniker.
Still, something Bill had said earlier had stuck with me.
Eric had been in some kind of vampire prison, but he had escaped. Was he okay?
Was he okay?
Was he okay?
That question repeated in my head over and over again as I approached Bill's house. And every time it was asked, my blood seemed to scream the same answer: "No."
The front door was half open, probably because of Warlow's haste to answer Bill's call. I decided not to knock.
Immediately when I walked inside, I heard Eric's angry voice coming from upstairs.
He was yelling at Bill—and maybe Warlow too. And, as he raged, I realized that he'd never sounded more like a Viking—or a vampire—to me.
"Where the fuck were you, Bill? Why did it take you so long to bring him here?"
True to form, Bill placed blame elsewhere. "Sookie was protecting him."
"Sookie?" Eric yelled in anger and disbelief.
Truth be told, Eric's tone scared the shit out of me. The memory of him at Russell's house, fangs drawn and claiming not to care about me flooded into my head. However, I knew Eric well enough now to know when he was most likely to lie to me—to lash out at me. It was when he needed to strike out against his own pain. So I climbed the stairs.
From the top one, I heard Eric's voice again, this time laced with both anger and sarcasm. "What? The almighty profit didn't want to pick a fight with his precious Sookie?"
When I entered the room, every man I'd ever had sex with—all three of them—looked at me with accusation.
Warlow looked as if I'd stolen his favorite puppy. No—he looked at me as if I was his favorite puppy and had chosen to run away. Geez! One fuck did not equal possession!
Bill—or Billith—was looking at me as if I was a bug and he was a giant shoe. Of course, I had tried to stake him—just a couple of days before—so I really couldn't blame him for not wanting to be friendly.
Eric was standing next to a bed, and he was covered in blood and vampire remains. But other than the bloody tears streaming from his eyes, none of the gore on his body seemed to be his own.
As our gazes locked, his eyes flashed dangerously. "This is your fault! Had you brought Warlow more quickly, she wouldn't be dead!"
"Oh, God!" I exclaimed, stepping forward and ignoring the fact that Eric had murder in his eyes. "Not Pam!"
"No," he said, his voice quieter, though no less frightening. "Nora."
My eyes whipped from Eric's stare to the sludge on the bed and then back again. "What happened?"
Bill was the one to answer. "The humans have concocted a new disease."
I glanced at him. "A new disease?"
"Hepatitis V," Bill informed. "It killed Nora from the inside out in less than 24 hours."
"Eric," I sighed, my eyes going back to his. "I'm so sorry."
For a split second his features softened a fraction, but the hardness was back in the next moment. He inhaled deeply, and I could tell that his ancient nose had picked up on everything I'd done during the last day—all my sins.
"What are you sorry for, Miss Stackhouse?" he asked icily. "Because you were too busy fucking the new flavor in town to care about anyone else or to bother helping me save my sister?" he continued, his voice brimming over with spite.
"You will shut your mouth about my mate, vampire!" Warlow stormed.
I sighed. Warlow's input was definitely not welcome, especially not when Eric was so obviously in pain.
"Yours?" Eric asked sarcastically. "Sookie Stackhouse will never belong to anyone," he said, his tone shifting to almost pride for a moment before moving back to sarcasm. "At least not for long."
"She is mine!" Warlow yelled.
As the fairy-vampire moved threateningly toward Eric, I stiffened. Luckily Bill stepped in, "Warlow, as your maker, I command you not to harm Eric. He is my," Bill paused, "guest."
No longer able to attack, Warlow snarled at Eric. "It isn't as if my blood could have healed some mysterious disease anyway!" he said as if enjoying Eric's pain a little. Then, he turned back toward me. Luckily, his feet seemed frozen in place.
"What is he to you? I know about Bill, but have you tainted yourself with this one too?" Warlow asked, gesturing toward Eric.
"Tainted!" I returned in disbelief. "If that's what you really think, then why would you even want me?"
"You are mine! You have always been meant for me," Warlow said intensely. "Before you were even born, you were mine—my fated."
"I am not yours, Warlow," I said, my lips barely moving because my teeth were clenched together so tightly in anger and disgust—much of it directed toward myself. "And I never will be."
"You are! I have every right to you!" the fairy-vampire hybrid maintained. "You and I shared our light! That is sacred!"
"No," I said fiercely. "It was a fuck."
"You lie!" Warlow insisted.
Knowing it was fruitless to argue with Warlow, I looked back at Eric. Hurt and anger were warring in his expression. "I am sorry about Nora," I told him quietly.
Eric looked like he was going to yell again, but he didn't. Instead, his eyes suddenly lost their fire, and he looked broken—as he had on that rooftop in Dallas right after Godric had ordered him to leave. Not knowing how else to comfort Eric then, I'd touched his hand and promised to stay with Godric. My hand itched to touch Eric again—to hold him—but I stopped myself from reaching out. Eric was proud, and the last thing he would want was comfort from me in front of Bill and Warlow. Hell—he probably wouldn't admit that he needed comfort at all.
However, I still tried to convey with my eyes what my hands couldn't do.
Eric broke our stare and turned around to face away from his audience.
"Let me be alone with my sister," he said gruffly.
"Of course," Bill said compassionately.
I sighed as I caught a glimpse of the man I'd first fallen in love with from Bill. No. Actually, I saw a glimpse of someone even better—the king who had spared Eric's life when he'd been under the witch's curse. Before Bill had changed into some demi-god or whatever he was now, I'd been getting to know that Bill. It was a shame that he was no longer around fulltime. At least I knew that that Bill was real—that he wasn't performing in order to manipulate me for his queen. I think I could have even come to be that Bill's friend.
Bill looked at Warlow. "Come," he ordered.
I couldn't help but to smile a little. I was no Billith fan, but it was good to see Warlow have to heel.
I took a deep breath and lingered for a moment while Bill and Warlow left the room. Eric's back was still to me.
"My Gran was the best person I ever knew," I whispered. "Her grave isn't fresh, but I know Gran would welcome Nora and take care of her as if she were her own—if you think Nora would have liked that," I finished before walking quickly out of the room. I didn't expect Eric to answer. No. Actually, I didn't want him to feel he had to. I just wanted to offer a resting place for his sister if one was needed.
I didn't know what vampires did with their dead. And I knew little about Vikings either, though I recalled from history class that they often burned their dead. I had seen the already-dug grave for Terry when I'd been walking from the graveyard, and it looked cold and lonely in the dirt, though vampires had a different attitude about that, I supposed.
I sighed and then followed raised voices to Bill's office, where Warlow and Bill were arguing about Bill's plan to save the others. It seemed Bill wanted for Eric to smuggle Warlow's blood back into the vamp prison so that Eric could give some of it to everyone who had been in Bill's vision.
I felt a pang of worry. I didn't want Eric going back into that prison, but if it would save Tara and Jessica and Pam, I knew he'd do it. Plus, knowing Eric, he'd want to wreck a little havoc in retribution for Nora's death. I couldn't say I blamed him for that.
Why Bill didn't just use his newfound ability to day-walk, his seeming indestructibility, and his new "gifts" to destroy the prison was beyond me, but he seemed to be certain that his vision had to occur just as he'd seen it—except for the different outcome, I presume.
"What are you still doing here?" Bill asked me as I walked into the room. It seemed as if rude Billith was back.
I took a deep breath. "I brought Warlow back here—just as you asked—and now I need something in return."
"What?" Bill asked.
"My freedom," I replied.
"Sookie—no!" Warlow begged.
"Explain," Bill said to me, looking intrigued.
"Years before I was born, one of my ancestors signed a contract, which would give the firstborn, spark-carrying fairy to him," I said, gesturing toward Warlow. "I want you to order him to break that contract."
"No!" Warlow yelled. "If you do that, I won't help you save the others," he shouted at Bill.
I looked at Warlow with skepticism. "Based on how you feel about other vampires, I bet that Bill would have to command you to give up your blood no matter what, so your cooperation doesn't really seem to be a necessity here."
"And what will I get if I help you?" Bill asked.
"What do you want?" I responded warily.
Bill considered for a moment. "I need to make sure that Jessica isn't punished if she returns here. She lost control with Andy Bellefleur's half fairy children." He paused and looked anguished. "It is my fault that I left her alone with them."
I sighed. At least he was taking some responsibility for that tragedy. "Why not glamour the memories from everyone?" I asked.
"That wouldn't work with Andy's remaining child. Plus, I wouldn't want to take away the few memories Andy has of his children," Bill replied, his eyes taking on a faraway look. I wondered if he was remembering his own human children in that moment.
I nodded. "Okay, Bill," I said softly. "I'll poke around in their heads and make sure that they aren't intending to do anything to Jess, and as long as you promise not to hurt them, I'll let you know if they are."
Bill nodded. "In that case, we have an agreement, Sookie."
"Don't do this," Warlow begged both Bill and me, trying to struggle against some kind of force holding him in place.
"Warlow," Bill said authoritatively, "as you maker, I command you to break the contract that gives you a right to Sookie. I command you to relinquish all claim to her now and in the future."
"No," Warlow insisted, continuing to struggle.
"Warlow!" Bill yelled, having already moved directly in front of Lilith's child. Bill's new long fangs were down and threatening. He glared at the fairy-vampire hybrid. "Break it!" he repeated.
Warlow closed his eyes as if in pain, and in the next moment, the contract—obviously brought by his fairy magic—appeared on Bill's desk. I guess I should have been used to magic by then, but the scroll's sudden appearance startled me.
Warlow looked up at me, and for a moment, I felt his glamour trying to invade my mind. And when that didn't work, I heard his voice in my head. "Please, Sookie, don't do this. Please, let me love you through eternity."
I shook my head and then used my shields to force him out of my mind.
Still obviously struggling, but no longer able to deny the order from his maker, Warlow walked over to Bill's desk and stood by the scroll, his hand hovering right over it.
As Warlow spoke in a language I didn't understand, the scroll opened. I could see the words light up and then disappear one by one. "I proclaim this contract null and void," Warlow said after all the words were gone from the page. Next, he tore at his wrist with his fangs and dropped some of his blood onto the scroll. The document began to smoke.
Bill took in the sight without surprise. "Will Sookie's blood be required?" he asked.
Warlow nodded, though he looked pained as he did so.
Bill's fangs clicked down. "Allow me," he said to me with a half-smirk, half-leer.
"No thanks," I responded, picking up a letter opener from the other side of the desk. Though it was blunt and would hurt like hell, the last thing I wanted in my body was a set of vampire fangs. I cut a jagged line across the palm of my left hand and then waited for the blood to begin flowing before I held my hand over the contract. As soon as my blood touched the scroll, it burst into flame and consumed itself, not even leaving ashes behind.
I took off my sweater and wrapped my wound before either of the vampires in the room could get any ideas.
"It's done," Warlow said with an agonized expression on his face. "All that I have lived for is now gone."
I looked at him, unable to prevent my pity. "You were living for something that wasn't real, and I'm sorry if you're hurting, but you should learn to accept who you are and find something that makes you happy."
"You will make me happy," he said unrelentingly. "It is your destiny."
I sighed. "No. I'm sorry, but it's just not." I ran my unwounded hand through my hair. "I know that it was my choice to have sex with you. Hell—I initiated it!" I admitted, embarrassed that I was having this conversation in front of Bill, but not really wanting to have a confrontation with Warlow about it later. "And to be honest, I'm not a hundred percent sure why I did it. Maybe I just wanted to feel like I was in control of my life for a change. But it's not gonna happen again!"
"You don't mean that. What we are to each other—it doesn't need a contract," Warlow contended.
"What we are?" I asked, my frustration at his single-minded and delusional persistence growing. "I've only known you for a couple of days. And in that time, you've lied to me and tried to manipulate me into following a contract that I never signed."
"I've also saved your life," Warlow reminded, "more than once."
"I know," I said, "and I appreciate that. But what about all the lives you took?"
Warlow raised his eyebrows in question.
"The fairy club," I said.
Immediately, Warlow looked as guilty as Bill had when I'd learned about his "assignment" for the queen.
"I did not intend to hurt them, but when I smelled them, I couldn't help myself," Warlow insisted. "I never wanted to be vampire!" He looked at Bill accusingly before turning anguished eyes to me. "They may have tried to interfere with my claim over you—as Niall did. You must understand! Plus, if you hadn't told me of their location, I would have never felt the temptation."
I scoffed. "You're a real piece of work—trying to blame me for what you did." Having had my fill of Warlow, I turned to Bill. "Thank you, Bill. I hope that your plan works. I really do."
Bill nodded a little.
"And I'll let you know what I find out regarding Andy's plans about Jessica. And I'll," I paused, "try to look out for her best interests."
Bill nodded. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it," I said sincerely. I loved Jessica like a sister, and if a vampire as old as Warlow could "lose control" around fairies, then how much harder would it have been for a baby vampire. At least Jessica didn't seem to be foisting the blame onto others.
"Goodbye, Bill," I said.
"Sookie," he returned rather stiffly and formally.
"Sookie," Warlow said pleadingly.
I turned to look at him, and for a second, I thought of Ben the fairy and not Warlow the vampire. Even as I did, however, I felt him trying to influence me with either his glamour or his ability to get into my head using his telepathy. I resisted.
"Did you kill Niall?" I asked, needing to know the answer to one more question.
"No," Warlow said, though his eyes betrayed guilt.
"Okay," I said, "but I can tell you did something to him. What?"
Warlow sighed. "I banished him to where he banished me twenty years ago."
"Can you bring him back?" I asked.
"If you will agree to be mine again," he replied.
I shook my head. Clearly, he'd yet to get the memo that I didn't respond well to ultimatums.
Call me selfish. Call me an idiot. Call me a hypocrite. Call me a danger magnet. Hell—even call me a woman of "loose morals," as Gran used to say.
In that moment, I felt like all of those things. But I was not going to be the selfish, idiotic, hypocritical danger whore who gave my eternity away. I'd look for another way to help Niall, or he'd have find a way to help himself.
Without another word, I turned and left the mansion. As far as I was concerned Warlow didn't deserve a further response.
A/N: I hope you like the beginning of this story. I will try to post a chapter every day or two until this story is done. Remember, there are only 4-5 chapters as of now. After that, I'll pick up with Comfortably Numb for those of you who are reading that.
Thanks so much for reading. I hope that you will leave some feedback for me.
Cheers,
Kat