Title: Stop Fighting Your Nature
Fandom: True Blood
Characters: Godric and Eric Northman
Summary: Short quick fic, written during my ten minute break of writing my novel. spell checked but un beta'd. Eric has only been a vampire for a couple of weeks, he's still hungry but the sun will be setting soon, luckily they've found shelter.
Warnings: Mature content, Adult themes.
"You?" The man said and ran his eyes notably over Godric's form. "You have killed many men? I am not a fool boy, you are merely a child." The man was large, smaller than Eric in height but taller than Godric, he was heavy in girth but his bulk was not muscle.
Godric turned to him slowly, his head cocked slightly to the side.
"I am far from a child." he spoke the words slowly.
Perhaps it was in the way Godric spoke, with the words slithering from his lips like a snake from its hiding place or in the way that the fire caught his eyes, eyes that were far too old for such a young face, eyes that showed darkness beyond tales of any monster told.
Eric could see the swallow of the mans throat, hear the rhythmic beating of his heart speed up with fear. The mans body temperature had risen significantly, despite the snow that fell freely outside the man had broken out in a sweat which made his skin shimmer.
He reached back with one hand, his fingers grasping clumsily for the handle of the blade that he kept beneath a pelt near by. Taking it in his grip he lifted it high in the air, the metal quivering as the hand that held it shook all the way down to the elbow.
The man made a gargling noise as Godric's small hand met his throat. He did not grip, simply held the man still. With his free hand Godric gripped the still shaking wrist, holding it between his thumb and first finger he snapped it easily, the bones beneath the skin shattering.
The man tried to scream, his eyes bulging with pain and shock as Godric tore the hand off. Blood sprayed from the wound, the skin jagged, the bone jutting from what remained of the mans wrist like a tree from the ground. He roared in pain as Godric's hand left his throat.
Godric moved then, his body a blur as his fangs extended and sank unceremoniously into the mans throat, the tearing of flesh and muscle so loud Eric thought that even the mans wife who cowered in the corner had heard it.
The scent of blood was heavy in the air, like the scent of sex would have been in his village after the men had returned victorious from a battle. Eric's fangs extended, just as Godric pulled his own from the mess that had once been the mans jugular.
The smaller man stood to his feet, kicking the sprawled bloodied body of the man to one side easily. He raised his head, he was covered in blood from his lips to his chin and down his neck. His fangs gleamed in the fire, the pearl white canines stained red with the blood of another successful kill.
Godric moved to the woman who lay huddled in the corner, her face streaked with human tears and lower half soaked in what could only be her own urine. Eric couldn't blame her though, believing in death was one thing but to have him come into your home and tear apart your strong ox of a husband like he were nothing but a piece of cloth was completely different.
Godric lifted her by the hair, her long blond locks tangled messily among his pale fingers. She shrieked, her voice returning to her dry throat as she sobbed and kicked out, her hands flailing in every direction that her body would physically allow in an attempt to escape.
"Please." She begged in Eric's native tongue.
Eric was hungry, so hungry, he felt like a man who had been starved for weeks. His stomach was cramping, the desire for blood so strong he felt as if it would bring him to his knees.
"I C-can't" He said to Godric, his voice hoarse. "I can't. She is innocent."
"You will." Godric replied simply, he was not angry but his voice held authority.
"I can't! She could be a mother, she may have children that she needs to care for and love."
Godric let her drop, before her body had hit the floor he had Eric by the throat and on his knees in an almost mirror image of what would happen over a thousand years later in the bedroom of a Louisiana waitress.
"You are a creature of Death and the living are only good for one thing… And it's not love."
He looked into Eric's eyes then, with such intensity that Eric had to look away.
"It's wrong." this was the first woman that Eric had been told to kill, for the past few weeks they had fed only on men, on warriors and travellers.
"There is no right or wrong, there is only survival, or death. Stop fighting your nature." With those words he let go of Eric's throat and let him rise to his feet. He turned back to the woman and lifted her up, so quickly that it made her head spin as the room blurred and almost fell into complete darkness.
"Please. " She said again when her vision had cleared. "Do you have no honour? " She looked straight to Eric, his physical form giving her no doubt that he was a Viking. Perhaps she thought she could reason with him but Eric did not hear a word that she said. Not that it would have helped if he had.
Eric was staring at Godric's fingers, pale and bloodied as they moved slowly over her neck, over the vein that pulsed just beneath the skin. They travelled down her collar bone, into the dip of her cleavage and over the cup of her breast.
"Do you desire her?" Godric asked, amused. He knew the answer. He could feel everything, Eric's hunger, his lust. Godric gripped her face in her hand, using the same two fingers that he had torn her husbands hand off with to hold her jaw still. She shook, violently, a scream leaving her lips that burned her throat and made her feel as if she had just swallowed fire. She did not stop though, if anything her screams got louder when she saw Godric grin, saw the blood that had once pumped through her husbands veins smeared over his fangs and down his face.
Godric threw her then, into the not so comforting arms of his progeny.
"Drink."
A/N Reviews are welcome and appreciated.