.night. a candlelit room. Italy. 1823.
Pamela narrowed her large, deep set eyes at him. Through the blood bond she shared with him, even as a human, she could sense that he was mulling over something. His emotions, which he didn't bother hiding from her at the moment, were switching rapidly as he thought about...whatever the hell he was thinking about. Sometimes she didn't care. Now? She shouldn't have cared. She wasn't nearly done experimenting with the make-up Godric had brought her from Egypt. She barely finished lining her eyes with the kajal eyeliner when she looked up at the viking through her vanity mirror and just watched him.
They were at one of the many grand villas Godric owned in Italy. As a congratulatory gift for Eric bonding himself to Pam, he made the arrangements for them to stay at the home for the week, to celebrate and not be disturbed by petty human things. Godric didn't know why a vampire would be so willing to share himself with a breather, but in his heart he knew Eric just hadn't had the heart or the patience to turn her. He would smarten up when things got difficult, but as stubborn as Eric was, he had to find out for himself. All things aside, Godric was never one to spoil a celebration.
"Eric."
With the subtlest of movements, he looked at her. "Yes, docka?"
"Docka?" she questioned.
He simply smiled at her. He was fond of how little of his first language she knew. "'Doll.'"
"Why doll?" she mustered out, her poor English getting the better of her.
"You have the skin of the richest porcelain doll I've ever laid eyes on." She took her own time to mull over his words. She liked the idea of being someone's pet. He dressed her and cared for her and took care of her. At home in Paris, this was what she was being set up for: an arranged marriage, but here, with Eric? She loved it. She felt like a hypocrite of sorts, and that dazzled her. "What question did you have, my sweet?"
She paused for a moment, shuffling through the English in her head. She cursed Eric for not knowing French better, but for a vampire, what could she expect? "What language do you think in? Vampires think, oui?" her accent thick and heavy. She thought in French herself.
"Like...my thoughts? In my head?" She nodded. His expression, which didn't change often, changed to that of surprise. "Why... I don't know, Pamela. I... I grew up in old Sweden." His eyes momentarily hardened, but Pam did not notice. "I spoke Swedish there. Godric soon thereafter taught me Norwegian and Russian. A few decades later I learned German, and then English when we moved to the states. I suppose I... I do not know, Pammy." She smiled at the nickname. "What do you think in? French?"
She nodded. "I know not of anything else." In the blink of an eye, Eric was behind her, his hands on her bare shoulders and his chin resting on her shoulder. She gasped softly. As a human, she was still not used to the speed at which a vampire could move.
"Jag kommer att lära dig svenska," he said with a grin. "Kom. Upprepa efter mig, ja?" His hand moved down the bare skin to the lace of her corset. "Spets," he said, looking into her eyes through the mirror with a smile on his face. "Come on. 'Spets' is 'lace' in Swedish. I will teach you. Undervisa, teach. You will teach me French?"
She grinned. "Oui. Undervisa. Enseigner."
"Enseigner," he repeated, returning her grin. He let his hands move a little more, to the gold necklace around her neck, a gift from Eric. "Halsband."
"Halsband," she repeated, and then giggled. "It sounds like...husband!"
"Hmm...I supposed it does." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Mmm...puss. 'Puss' means 'kiss.' Jag älskar kyssa dig." He turned her face to him and kissed her softly. "Jag älskar att kyssa din läckra läppar." Pam moaned softly. She loved hearing him speak in his native tongue. It was oddly attractive. He kissed her again, moving his hand up to her cheek and parting her lips with his tongue. He parted them, only to say, "Läppar."
"Läppar," she breathed. Eric always took her breath away.
He licked her lips. "Tunga."
"Tunga."
He moved his hand down to her breast. "Bröst."
"Bröst," she moaned. She grabbed his hand and massaged her breast with it. "Kyssa mig!"
It was such a turn on, hearing her speak to him, demanding those things from him, in his own language. He obliged, not one to keep a lady waiting. He moved his hands to the ribbon on her back that kept her so tight in her corset. He cursed the fashions of the 1800s. How was a man supposed to remove clothing in a proper amount of time when the woman was practically sewed into her garments? He missed the days of loincloths, he truly did. With a swift pull, he tore the long, taut ribbon in half, the corset splitting and falling into two pieces on the floor. She gasped, but soon forgot about it as Eric pulled her into his arms, and them into a standing position. Her skirt fell behind her as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
She moved in to kiss him, her hands on either side of his face, but he bared his fangs at her instead. "Pamela, du...är...min." He hissed at her and roughly pierced the skin. Her delicious blood pooled in his mouth and she moaned loudly as he drank from her.
"Oh, Eric! Buvez! Buvez-moi! S'il vous plaît!" She grinded her pelvis against his stomach, moaning at the friction.
He pulled his mouth away from the wounds and whispered into her ear: "Blod. Your blood, all of your blood, is mine, Pamela. You are mine."
"Blod," she breathed.
He raised his own wrist to his mouth and pierced the skin. "Drick från mig, prinsessa. Drink. Be mine forever."
She latched onto the dripping holes he made, bonding them for the third time, and forever.
"För evigt."
A/N: The beginning of my take on how Eric turned Pam. IDGAF what the TV show or the book says. Fuck the authority. I believe that Eric and Pam's relationship is deeper than we ever see. He loves her more than maker and child love each other. This is only chapter one, and should not take more than five chapters to finish. This will not interfere with "Lovesong." Enjoy. By the way, I don't fuckin' speak Swedish. Or French for that matter! Thank God for the internet. I'm sorry if I made any mistakes. I truly am.
