This is the first thing in a long, long time that I've written besides essays for my business classes. I tried. Hopefully you'll enjoy it and let me know... and if you don't- in the words of my Mom, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it." Seriously. I can't be held responsible for things that come out of my mouth when I'm mad. I'm kidding. Promise. No one proofread this for me so if you catch some mistakes, forgive me.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Southern Vampire Mysteries, Miss Charlaine Harris does. I love 'em and am just temporarily borrowing them.
'Fucking Fairies' he cursed under his breath for the hundredth time in the last month as he curled his fingers under the dusty window. Effortlessly prying the aged window open, he slipped into the familiar bedroom quietly. Eric was immediately engulfed in the sweet scent of his bonded, his wife. There had been many nights in which he had laid with some nameless body dreaming of Sookie's intoxicating smell and body wrapped around him, reminding him of the short time they had spent together what seemed like ages ago. A time when he was without the politics and restraints of his life... before the whole fairy disaster occurred.
He stalked across the creaky wooden floor of her bedroom, heading towards her beautiful sleeping silhouette under her thin sheets. She lay on her side facing away from the window, with her blonde hair strayed around her forehead and lips. Stripping himself of his jeans and shirt, he slipped under the sheets and looked over his bonded's body. Although her flimsy white nightgown covered the majority of her body, he knew the damage that lay under the clothing, the scars he could not immediately see. Her bare legs were traced with puckered new, white scars that shone against her tan skin and he tried to hold back a hiss at the memories of that night.
For the first time in a thousand years, his undead heart had throbbed.
He remembered clearly having frozen in mid sentence, concentrating on what felt like a gravitational pull reaching through his very core to pull his heart out of his chest. Something was trying to rip his very essence out of his body at that moment. Eric could not remember a time, even while he lay at the mercy of maker in his first death that had made him feel so vulnerable.
It was the bond. The bond throbbed and coursed its way through the fibers and tissues of his body whispering Sookie's name. Even before Bill called, distraught with the image of Sookie being taken by Neave and Lochlan- he knew. He knew Sookie was in trouble. His beautiful bonded was in danger, one very different than prior stages of battle and life-threatening situations. This was a war being fought by forces much more grand and powerful and evil than any she had encountered before. He could feel the panic crawl across his cold skin, clinging to every pore and golden hair like a leech. A roar erupted from his throat the moment he felt the overwhelming sense of panic turn into fear and pain that streamed through the bond into him. He endured a torture worse than any he had ever experienced before in those next few hours as he felt all of Sookie's emotions, as he and Claudine tried to track down Dermot and Breandan.
Claudine had suggested they separate to find Sookie and bring a stop to any further involvement in her kidnapping but it was difficult to stay focused when he could feel her life force seem to fade with each minute that passed. Niall and Claudine decided that his excellent tracking and fighting skills would be more effective trying to bring down those who had planned to do this to his lover, not to mention his self control was much greater than Bill's while dealing with a fairy that could not hide her scent. Bill and Niall left to track down Sookie through the fairy world and then back to the human world, while he and Claudine tried to find Dermot for more information. Instead, they faced a group of Dermot's supporters and slaughtered them. His long iron sword wove through the air time and time again through the bodies of fairies, he felt alive again. The thrill of war and fairy blood sang through his system but his bonded and her ordeal remained at the center of his thoughts and it was only through his connection to her that he managed to restrain himself from attacking Claudine while in his high. Sookie's very existence relied on the execution of all the treacherous fairies that went against Niall and his sky family.
When he finally made it to the Sookie, only after quickly changing his clothes to get the fairy blood off of him to prevent any temptations when he saw her, his heart stopped throbbing. Her broken, mangled body was a sight that he would never be able to forget if he lived another thousand years. He swore to himself a million times over in that moment that he would never allow anything to ever happen to his resilient mortal lover again. His existence was tied to hers in a way that was not in any way logical or pragmatic. Her blood and essence flowed through him, feeding the very magic that made him a man. She was his and would always be his, even if she did not realize that yet but patience was one of the only virtues he possessed. She had always been worth everything.
Claudine and Tray's death, along with Niall's return to his world, changed Sookie. He could feel her need for him stronger than ever now, and so, he found himself pressing the length of his body against hers at four in the morning after closing Fangtasia for the night. She sighed in what seemed like relief, turning her head to rest against his throat. "Eric," she murmured sleepily.
"Dear heart, I've missed you," he murmured into her ear, nipping at her lobe gently.
Sookie patted her way across his side finding his hand to wrap around her and pulling herself even more closely into the cocoon of his body. He could hear her pulse beating slowly through her neck and nuzzled her soft skin. He had not fed from her since before her attack so her body could heal properly and although under normal circumstances in the past it would have been difficult for him to be in such a close proximity to her and not want to bite her, fuck her, or rub himself all over her; the conditions of their relationship had changed. He would do all those things and more once her smooth flesh was regenerated. For now, he was content lying under her sheets, holding her warm body however bandaged and bruised it might still be, to him.
This was right, no matter the circumstances.
