A/N: Alright, this story will be way different from my other true blood story in pretty much every aspect. While there's not too much on Gaul as they passed things on orally (and the accounts are mostly from Romans since they had a literary language, so i'll take their biased writings with a pinch of salt), I keep ending up reading more on it since it seemed like such a cool culture and time period, but I've never really thought about or read about it before. Sooo I made a story, completely AU of Godric the Gaul, literally.
In trying to help Eric save his dying maker, Tamzin ends up being thrown back to 150 B.C. - she'll have to learn to adapt to the Gaulish lifestyle whilst finding out how to get home, if the future leader of his clan, Godric, doesn't end up keeping her there. But dark magic has unforeseeable consequences, and it may be out of either of their hands to change their now intwined fate.
Minnesota could be a desolate place if one chose their location correctly. Tamzin hadn't had a choice when she was banished from her coven. The small cabin stood as an isolated figure against the awe-inspiring backdrop of the mountains rising to pierce the sky. Pop music played through the staticky radio. She ran a hand through her thick red curls as she stared at a candle in utter boredom. Her black henley and leather pants sure weren't adding any colour to the place either. The candles were her only source of light in the rudimental house, and her only source of entertainment. It was no Netflix, but hey, it was free and required no internet.
Being so alone she hadn't expected anyone to find this place and jumped when there was a sharp knock on the door. Balling her fists she stood up. Tamzin was a witch. If this was some lumberjack serial killer she would go Sabrina the Teenage Witch on steroids on the creep.
Preparing herself the swung the door open with narrowed eyes full of intent. But to her relief, and shock, it was Eric Northman. They had already come across each other two months ago, but she hadn't expected them to ever cross paths again. Especially not when he lived so far away. It was known that vampires weren't fond of witches and vice versa.
Their interaction had been a special once-off case, and she had actually found it cool to work with vampires. Her coven sure hadn't.
"Louisiana's back that way." She jerked her head.
In his arms were a white sheet, and beneath it she was pretty sure a corpse. The hair on the back of her neck rose. Whatever he wanted of her, working with a dead body was a total no. Vampire dead she could deal with, but the dead dead creeped her out.
Finally registering for her, her brows shot up. "I might be living in middle of nowhere Minnesota but I sure as hell will not help you bury that in my backyard. There's team building exercises, and then there's team building exercises. I am a peaceful witch, with all that kumbaya and prayers and stuff."
"Unless you're helping me." He referenced their earlier event where she had unfortunately gotten into a few battles with witches to protect the peace between the species.
Well, she hadn't gotten into fights per say, just given Eric and his gang pointers on dealing with them. Tamzin was a lover not a fighter, who was squeamish around blood and insects, protested whenever she got as much as a papercut, and loved animals so much she had proudly been a vegetarian for a decade. Not that her coven knew about any of the vampire details luckily - that would be a death sentence for sure. They just knew she had willingly aided vampires.
"Let's not make that a running theme." She replied.
"Are we going to speak between this little magical barrier all night, or will you let me in?" Eric snapped.
"Not until you tell me what it going on." She said. Tamzin would get to how he had even found her later.
"Let me in or I'll burn this sad little shack to the ground." Eric asked.
Tamzin stared at the vampire for a moment before sighing. Her hand swept across the room as she moved to the side, "Since you asked so politely, come in."
He stepped through the doorway, careful not to let the body hit anything on the way in. Eric cradled the body to his and Tamzin wondered who was under the sheet. She didn't know much about Eric, only that he was an immortal Viking who's reputation was preceding him.
Tamzin closed the door and Eric turned around to face her. "I need your help, Witch."
"It's two in the morning. Do I seem like some free twenty-four hour helpline to you?"
His lip twitched in a sneer and she quickly pressed her lips together in a tight line. It was becoming clear he was in no joking mood and she needed to tread lightly.
"I'm sorry," she sighed, "But I'm having a pretty shitty time. After I helped your friends last time I've been banished from my coven and this is the only place I kind of have to live at the moment. Turns out, witches aren't big on coven-members helping your kind and considering I'm squatting and normal humans don't know about witches, it means I'm pretty much fucking fucked when the police come knocking."
"You do this for me and I will guaran-fucking-tee you have riches beyond your imagination for the rest of your mortal little life." He growled.
Sighing deeply she looked at him with hesitation. He was one to keep his word, but . . . "I'm not saying yes, but what is it you need me to do?"
"My Maker is dying of an evolved Hep-D. His time is limited." Eric said. Tamzins eyes slid to the white bundle. He must be hours away from the true death. The body beneath the blanket was so still she would have believed him already dead, if it wasn't for the fact vampires exploded into a mess of red gore.
Crossing her arms she looked at him with a frown. "I have no expierence with curing vampires of diseases, especially not some evolved Hep-D case. Plus, I'm still only sixteen. Even if there was some cure I don't have the knowledge yet." Unless her grudge-holding group forgave her, she probably never would gain any knew information. Hastily she added: "I'm really sorry."
His smile was razor sharp and her heart lurched. "Not as sorry as you will be if Godric dies."
Godric. So that was the name of the body beneath the blanket. "Eric . . ."
"I have a spell."
Tamzin raised a ginger brow.
With extreme gentleness she didn't know he was capable of, Eric laid the body on the ground. Then he took out a crumbled piece of paper from his tracksuit pants. It was an ancient spell, the origin language of the witches: Sumerian. Every witch learned how to read it, though it was rare it ever came into use.
As her eyes skimmed the page she inhaled sharply and her head flashed up. "No fucking way. Absolutely no. This can't happen. Ever."
His fangs shot out and he hissed. "Do it."
"This isn't a spell to heal him - this spell will tie our souls together!"
"It will save him!" He snarled.
"And what about my own soul, what about that?" She cried.
"Irrelevant. Link them together and save him. Bind them together, whatever the price." Eric showing vulnerability was rare, in fact she didn't know he was capable of it. Tamzin inhaled sharply at the look he threw her.
"At a price no one knows." She whispered fearfully. Eric didn't understand. This spell was madness. It was the equivalent of throwing your body into Devils Kettle falls and hoping for the best. Except incapacitating all limbs before hand, poisoning your body, stopping your heart, and then linking another human being to you because why not. And then hoping you made it out on the other end, except no one had any day where that end was.
It was madness. Eric had finally gone mad. See, that was exactly why her coven had told her not to associate with vampires. Treating every species as equal had come back to royally bite her in the ass.
Tamzin was desperate to get her point across, "That price might not even save him. There is zero guarantee this will work. One little pause between words too long, one beat too short is all it can take for the entire spell to change and open up a plague worse than the Black Death upon this world. Or maybe a Noahs Ark two-point-oh."
"Than you better not screw this up." His voice was so pleasant it was insincere.
"He's no human, Eric." She stressed his name again, hoping to bring him down from this insanity. "He's a vampire. There's a reason vampires and witches never bond - except for me because I was dropped on my head as a baby - well, probably. My point is witches are living breathing entities that are part of the earth. You're undead mutations, you should never have existed in the first place."
"He is my Maker." He hissed, eyes darkening in fury at her rejection.
"No one is crazy enough to tie their soul to an Immortal! You probably don't even have souls!"
The next second she was slammed against the wall and the breath left her. His arm was at her throat, pinning her to the wall and she raised on tiptoes, gulping for air as her own hands went around his arm, trying to gain leverage. "Do it, Witch."
"Can't breath." She gasped. He released her and she fell to the floor with a cry. Tamzin looked up at the Viking towering over her, face twisted in a sneer. Her voice was raspy. "Eric this is mystical energy, tied to all living things. It's volatile and dangerous. There's a reason we don't ever attempt anything of this magnitude in our lifetime unless it's a life or death situation."
"This is a life or death situation!" He roared and she flinched. Slowly he knelt down. His cool breath fanned her face and she could see his pupils nearly swallowed whole in rage. When he spoke his voice was silky, "Do it, or I will shatter each bone in your body leaving you immobile when I open each of your main veins," he gripped her thigh bruisingly hard, "and drain you 'til the last drop of blood. How does that sound?"
"You still don't understand. I can't remember ever hearing what happens when we tie our soul to another human but I know it has been done. But a vampire? Eric-"
His fangs clicked out and his hand shot out, grabbing her neck and yanking her so forcefully her neck snapped back in whiplash. His fangs scrapped the side of her neck. "I'll do it - I'll do it!" She cried. Why couldn't vampires just act like civilised beings and drop an email when they needed something done, do a little negotiation here and there? If she asked Eric though, he probably would call his meaningful threats a peaceful negotiation.
He paused, and she knew he was smirking. But when he pulled back his face was impassive. Eric stood, yanking her up with him.
With a heavy sigh Tamzin collected the paper from the ground and looked over it again. Some of the ingredients were obscure, and others she wouldn't be able to collect in the next few hours. Godric wouldn't survive the night and Tamzin was going to pay the price. At least she had a solid excuse for not studying. Her lip quirked. She really should be taking her own likely death much more seriously.
"These ingred-" Eric had flashed outside and was shoving a bag at her chest, cutting her short. Peering inside the bag she found it filled with all the herbs she would need, and the black volcanic ash. He really was prepared.
Tamzin bit the side of her lip as she looked at the drawers filled with candles. "Fine. I'll get this set up. Try not to murder me in the meantime, it may slow down the preparation a little."
Eric looked at her, finding her words wholly non-amusing. She gave a half-apologetic shrug before getting to work.
An hour later she placed hands on her hips to take a deep breath. Candles illuminated the dark room like stars through across the darkness. The flames rose high and flickered against the lazy winter wind. On top of the unmoving body of Godric were bundles of sage and bay leaves. Placed on his forehead was ground angelica which she would burn as she began the incantations. Throughout this entire time she still hadn't seen his body. Tamzin had absolutely no idea what he looked like as he lay motionless beneath the white sheet.
Mistletoe and plantain lined the right side of his body. On the floorboards beneath the herbs were the Sumerian symbols carved as part of the ritual. On his left side were yarrow and majoram, woven together. Sumerian symbols were carved into the floor next to each bundle.
Volcanic ash gathered from Harriet al Birk had been thrown onto the floor. It had been collected from there as the paper had specified. Tamzin knew the name, it was where there had been a sacrifice of three dozen witches who had been desecrated in the soil, promising life and continued magic to the area.
With one incantation, it had formed itself into a perfect circle around both Tamzin and the corpse she was going to bind herself too. Eric had to stand outside, which he was now doing impatiently, stalking back and forwards like a caged tiger with crossed arms.
"Well Northman, here goes nothing. If this succeeds, I don't just want unlimited money, I want a pony too."
"You can buy that with your soon to be fortune." He hissed, foot tapping in blurring speeds as he waited impatiently for her to get going.
"It would mean more if it came from you." She replied sweetly.
"Stop talking and do the spell or I'll-"
"Step inside this circle now and you'll taint everything. Now calm down, I can't focus if I keep wondering when you're going to drain me. I'm doing everything I can, Northman. I promise." And she was trying to do everything she could. Eric was always a jackass, but it was clear he was distraught over the thought of losing his maker. Apparently the loss hurt worse than death itself.
Unfurling the paper she closed her eyes and gathered her emotions, calming herself before she finally went through the last part of this suicidal mission. Gaia help her.
When her doe brown eyes opened, they were filled with determination. The entire time setting up the ritual she had recited the words over and over in her head. She could do this. Tamzin opened her mouth, and the words poured out.
Eric stood to the side, arms tightly crossed as he glared at the circle, jaw tight.
Kneeling down she touched the angelica with a finger and it burst into flickering flames. Suddenly the door burst open and a howling wind swept through the room, but the ash remained where it was. Her hair was flying all around her, obscuring her vision. Suddenly she felt as if the floorboards had shifted upwards and she was sliding down, she fell onto her side at the rapid disorientation. Fire coursed through her veins and her throat was closing up. "Someth- something's wrong."
Tamzin stumbled upwards and struggled to remove the mass of hair whipping in her face. Her stomach lurched and her chest tightened like an invisible hand had grabbed her heart was squeezing it like a vice. "Get me out." She stalked forwards but smacked her head against an invisible barrier.
Her palms came up and hit the barrier as the panic hit her. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong and she couldn't get out. The wind turned into a howling scream. The white linen on Godric began flapping and then every herb flew away from the body in a single gust. She slammed her palms agains the barrier. "Get me out!" She screamed.
It was terror that hit her now as for the first time ever as Eric's face had contorted into panic. He flashed forwards but was immediately thrown back with enough force that he flew through the wall. Tamzin collapsed on the floor, body writhing as an invisible force took control over her body. Her movements were violent jerks as she stared up at the ceiling, mouth open in a silent scream.
And then she was sucked below the floor and into darkness. She was falling, except there was no direction. She had been sucked into a current in the pitch black void and nowhere was up or down. Her hands flailed wildly and she screamed. For a second there was nothing. No gravity, no noise, no light.
And then there was a terrible pressure and a blinding light.
The air was forcefully expelled from her lungs as she landed on her back. She stared upwards. After a movement the swarming dots began to subside. She was looking up at a sky that took her breath away - if there was any left. Never had she seen such a bright sky, as if it was unpolluted completely. But there were few areas left in the world where such skies existed. Certainly she had never seen it.
It was the entire milky way, beautiful bright and twinkling stars thrown across the great canvas of the evening sky. They filled her entire vision. For a long time she stared up in awe.
The next sense to return to her was sound. Crickets chirped in an evening chorus from all around her. A brook was babbling just a little ways off and the trees behind her creaked and groaned.
Her back was wet. For a second she thought it was blood. Maybe that's why she couldn't move. But soon she realised it was wet grass that had soaked through the henley. The familiar scent of damp soil coiled around her like a delicate fragrance. Tamzin inhaled deeply. The air was clean and sharp, more so than she had ever expierence before, like she was breathing for the first time. She took another gulping breath.
Her finger twitched. And then her body spasmed as it was flooded with life again. Her hand curled into the moist soil. It took time as she moved her hands, then arms. Simultaneously she was little by little wiggling her toes, then rolling her ankles, bending her knees slightly.
Finally she managed to sit up and looked around. The grass was tall and slightly limp, hanging heavy from the recent rain fall. It went on as far as the eye could see. Still, it was difficult to discern anything in this near pitch darkness. Tamzin wasn't used to darkness like this.
With a loud groan she struggled upwards on weak legs, despite every muscle in her body protesting. Her head was throbbing and stomach nauseous like she was in the middle of a hangover from a week long bender.
Looking around she saw the densely packed forest behind her, and in front of her was just grasslands. Except right in-between the forest and grass did she see a village in the distance. Squinting her eyes she could swear it looked nothing like any village she had seen. With nothing to lose she set off towards in.
Every fibre in her body was screaming that something was terribly off, like the entire world had shifted a foot to the left. The village was simple huts, and dozens of horses were together in a makeshift pen, just off to the side. She could smell the stench even from here. As she inched her way closer, the smell of a bonfire wafted towards her.
The grass turned to mud at the downtrodden area. Tamzin found a hut with no door and curiosity pulled her inside. It was incredibly simple, with only a wooden table and multiple weapons laid on, all of them bronze. It was the gutted and skinned rabid that had her wrinkling her nose in disgust. What type of weird, primitive place was she in?
Her heart began pounding in her chest when she heard deep rumbling voices of men. Quickly she grabbed a knife and made her way outside. But she didn't want to seem crazy - maybe they were nice and could tell her where she had landed. Tamzin decided to hold the knife loosely by her side. It was just a precaution.
When she walked outside she nearly stumbled into three men and screamed in terror as she leapt back, stumbling into the side of the hut and knife swinging like a madwoman. "Stay the hell back!" She screamed, terror making her voice crack.
The men were tall, broad shoulder, and all muscle. Blood was splattered across bare chests and faces. Blood was in their long, wiry beards. One of them had a head tied around his waist like a victory token. An actual human head, now pale from the blood still dripping from the neck. The brown eyes were dull and unseeing, staring right back at her. She was so shocked she didn't even have time to vomit from horror.
None of them had weapons on them. They wore loose brown pants and laced deerskin boots. Black tattoos were covering their bodies, all symbols she had never seen before. Regret filled her; if she had just studied history like she was supposed to, maybe she would understand where she was - but history was full of lifeless people stuck in history books.
Their heads jerked back in shock as they took in her attire, so greatly different from their own. Quickly they overcame their shock and they began firing off in a guttural language her ears had never heard before. None of it sounded familiar.
Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and she swung the knife out again, one of them jumped back, narrowing avoiding the blade. "Get the hell back!" She shouted.
One of the men narrowed his eyes, spitting out something gruffly.
"I'm serious, I'll cut you." She yelled again. "Don't get near me!"
In her terror she didn't think about using magic at all, just about keeping the savage, bloody men at bay. They understood nothing she said.
At the commotion another boy began coming over curiously. When he was close enough to see her in the light he stopped sharply and his eyes widened in surprise, then confusion as he took in her attire. Slowly he came nearer to stand next the others, who looked at him out the corner of their eyes in acknowledgment of his presence.
The boy brought her no relief despite being decades younger than the other men. He was equally as terrifying as his savage counterparts. His shaggy brown hair reached his shoulders, half the strands were braided at random, some of them had bronze beads with various inscriptions hanging on at the end. Light stubble was just beginning to appear on his youthful face, signally the gradual change into manhood. Soot covered his face in two long broad lines staring from forehead and ending at jaw. From his neck hung a bronze necklace with another unfamiliar symbol.
Dried blood and mud coated his bare chest and arms. Unlike the others, he had no tattoos yet. Soil created dark crests under his fingernails.
She swung the knife again and then he leaped at her. The boy collided into her, hand going to her wrist. She was thrown back against the hut, head smacking the wood. His fingers wrapped around her wrist and squeezed. With a cry she dropped the knife. There was a brief scuffled between them and then he had effectively pinned her against the wall, knee between her legs, one hand crossing her arm across her body and the other against the juncture between her neck and shoulder.
Finally his head raised, revealing azure blue eyes. His face still had baby fat on it, but she knew once it disappeared he had would have a strong, handsome face.
He placed a finger on her lips and she stilled. The scent invaded her fingers: burnt wood, earth, and blood. The boy said something in his guttural language, but she understood nothing. Only that he was speaking gently too her. He looked like he was waiting an answer.
She gave a mumbled response, lips moving against the finger. "I don't understand."
He seemed puzzled, cocking his head to the side as his brow furrowed. He said something to her again.
"Please just tell me where I am. English, do you speak English?"
He looked over his shoulder, barking something at another one of the savages. The savage shot something back at him, and then gestured wildly while breaking into a story, probably about the strange girl who had been swinging the knife at him. He pointed over to the trees, probably trying to come up with where Tamzin had appeared from. They seemed just has confused as she was.
Realising the boy was distracted she tried to shoot out of his grip and run but he pushed himself against her and his hand tightened his grip on her wrist. His body, all lean muscled, aligned with hers. He was a head shorter than her, but he also looked to be about a year or so younger. It didn't matter, his body was much stronger than hers and easily overpowered her desperate attempt at fleeing. He gave her a sharp squeeze of frustration and she swallowed back a cry of pain at her already bruising and sensitive wrist. His head whipped to look at her and he snarled something at her as annoyance flashed in his blue eyes.
Tamzin flinched. "Just let me go - I won't say anything. I'll leave all of you alone."
A savage behind her chuckled at her plea. Another seemed deeply offended at her attempted escaped and snarled something at the boy. Though the boy snarled something back his eyes remained locked on her. She flinched at their aggressive savages carried on a conversation, but he never took her eyes of her.
Finally he gave a sharp nod and then he reached for a short knife in his belt and held it at her throat. While she felt the tip of the blade, it wasn't digging into her skin. Whoever he was, he was still learning to be a leader. But it was clear that already now, he held some kind of authority.
He spoke with a level tone, and she knew whatever it was he said, it was a promise of pain if she tried to struggle. His inflection raised and she knew he had asked a question. Tamzin gave a quick nod. But she had no idea what she had agreed too. Then she was dragged off towards a hut, stumbling to keep up with the boys brisk pace. She swallowed her panic. If he was thinking of doing anything bad to her she was sure as hell going to put up a fight.
What had she gotten herself into? And more importantly: where was she? One thing was certain: it wasn't two-thousand-and-five anymore.
If you like, favourite follow and most importantly, review! I can't guarantee weekly updates, but if you like it, I'll upload more chapters.
- Five-Blues