Disclaimer – Despite what you may have heard, True Blood isn't mine.

Speculum Statua

One night Godric is followed home by a cat and Isobel opens the door for this small animal to become
part of the Dallas Sheriff's nest. I've always wondered what it would be like for a vampire to have a pet,
but as with all of my stories I like twists so take nothing at face value.

Set after the True Blood season 2 Dallas/Godric storyline.

Author: ladeesarah001
Category: True Blood
Rating: T (mild coarse language, low level violence)
Published: June 1, 2010
Completed: March 17, 2011
Characters: Godric, Eric, Isobel and Stan.

1. The Sounds of Silence

It was a marvel how a few short blocks away there was a busy upper class shopping strip, yet here were disused warehouses. The windows were either broken or boarded over, there was litter and other refuse scattered in the streets and graffiti adorned every surface possible. At the same time it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. This same pattern was repeated in all the great cities across time: the areas where the rich and influential came out to play were well kept, maintained with the utmost care, while the poorer areas of the city were allowed to run wild, the telltale signs of crime and poverty allowed to mar the landscape. These were sad truths that I had become all too familiar with over my last two millennia walking the Earth. My attention was drawn away from the depressing surroundings by the sounds of a struggle. Once upon a time I would have shrugged it off and simply walked away; it was after all none of my business. More recently however, I was taking more and more interest in things that were none of my concern. It was strange, as Sheriff I had more than enough matters to attend to, yet I still followed the sounds quickly coming upon their source.

Surveying the scene in front of me, I counted six large men trying to subdue a young woman; she had been backed into a wall. The men were advancing on her and with my keen eyesight I could discern injuries on all seven. Clearly this woman had been fighting back. As I silently ghosted closer to the group of mortals the wind shifted slightly giving me access to another sense with which to analyse the situation. Breaking centuries of habit, I breathed in, the scents of garbage, sweat, testosterone, urine, blood, adrenalin, mould filling my nostrils. Ignoring those scents that weren't pertinent at present, I zeroed in on the blood. The men were Weres. A faint spark of anger pulsed through me before I returned to my now perpetual state of apathetic dislocation. I rarely felt anything anymore, the most emotion that had passed through me of late had been at the sight of my ethereal Viking warrior, fallen to his knees, with red bloody tears streaming down his face. Anguished despair was something that I had never seen on Eric's face, even though I had turned Eric over one thousand years ago and we had travelled together for centuries. My mind replayed the events from on the roof of the Hotel Camilla.

"Would you be so cruel?" I had asked Eric when the Viking had threatened to remove me from the rooftop by force.

Eventually, between the astounding sight of Eric's tears, the tears shed by my Childe's human and the revelation that the nameless God that dominated much of the modern world did not punish, but forgave, I had realised that perhaps I did have something to live for. Perhaps I was being the selfish one? I had hoped that the human woman would care for Eric, but even I had to concede that I was assuming too much. She didn't truly belong to my Childe, not yet anyway. I knew from personal experience that whenever Eric desired something he always managed to manoeuvre it into his possession somehow. No matter how inevitable the outcome I couldn't entrust Eric's care to the human.

Unconscionable naivety would be the only explanation for believing that Eric would be able to survive in this world without someone to take care of him. It was true that Eric was a grown man, a fallen warrior when I had found him, but he had always had someone to watch over him; even if just from a distance. Eric's human father had been the chief of his people and even if Eric was a full grown man in his own right and a truly fearsome warrior his father had watched over him, guided him and protected him. Then once Eric was a vampire, he had taken on this role. Really, Eric had never had to survive on his own; someone had always been there to steady him if he had faltered. Leaving Eric alone would have been selfish and might have broken the Viking.

The only thing that had stopped me from seeking his final death earlier was the belief that it was cowardly. Standing on that rooftop with the vampire I knew intimately and the human woman I barely knew at all, I had realised that it truly was the coward's way out. Once that realisation had been made, I led my Childe back into the hotel and had allowed myself to be shepherded to Eric's rooms.

A smile almost graced my features as I remembered raising the question of what I would do now. The human had suggested that Eric wouldn't mind if I moved to Shreveport. Her innocence was truly refreshing. Eric, on the other hand, had resolutely declared that I was the Sheriff of Dallas. When I pointed out that I had willingly stepped down from my position, he just looked at me strangely, shrugged his shoulders and told me to call Nan Flanagan and tell her I'd changed my mind; there was nothing she could do about it. He was right of course, despite her threats to the contrary, and she wasn't at all pleased.

Refocusing on the scene before me, I pondered the best way to intervene. I finally settled on speed. The faster I dealt with the Weres, the less likely the human was to be hurt and the less likely she would see anything that would make her fear me more than she usually would. In a matter of seconds I had dealt with all six Weres. It had been centuries since I had actually had to fight anything; other vampires and supernaturals could instinctively sense my age and power and would avoid a fight at all costs, as a result I was now surrounded by Weres that had been ripped to pieces. Glancing down at my shirtfront and my hands I saw that I was covered in blood, my face probably matched. I was aghast at how the bloodlust had overtaken me, I had never lost control, but my vampiric nature had revelled in the bloodshed. I was no less a vampire now than I had been a millennia ago; the difference was that I chose to temper the bloodlust and my other baser vampire instincts. The human woman must be terrified. I decided the best course of action would be to direct the human to the closest police station, it wasn't far and she hadn't appeared to be too hurt, I doubted that she would allow me to assist her further given how I must now look.

When I turned to the wall, where just moments before the human had been cowering trying desperately to get away from the Weres, there was no one there. Listening intently, I could hear nothing besides the sounds of silence, everything had gone utterly still. She couldn't have gotten far, but there was no sign of her and even more worrisome, I couldn't scent her. It was like she'd never been here. After another minute spent worrying over where the human could have gotten to and why I couldn't smell her, I retrieved my cell phone and called Isobel. A few minutes later she was standing at my side taking in my appearance and the Were bodies strewn around me with carefully concealed horror.

"What happened?" she asked.

"There were six Weres attacking a lone human female so I stopped them," I told her dispassionately.

"Overkill," she muttered to herself before raising her voice back to a normal level. "Do you want it covered up or should I call the Packmaster?"

"Call the Packmaster," I told her resignedly, allowing her other comment to slide.

Twenty minutes later we heard the sound of a pickup making its way towards us and a few minutes later the truck pulled up and two Weres climbed out. The first was Tanner, the Packmaster, and the second was a Were I hadn't met before.

"Sheriff," the Packmaster greeted me, also nodding to Isobel. "This is Crowley," he introduced the other Were.

Isobel and I both nodded in reply. The Weres shifted uncomfortably, waiting for us to give them another cue. When none was forthcoming, Tanner pressed forwards.

"What can I do for you Sheriff?" he asked.

"I was out walking when I came across six Weres attacking what appeared to be a human female so I intervened."

"What makes you think they were part of our pack?" growled Crowley. A brief glimmer of fear ghosted across Tanner's face in response to the younger Were's maladroit remark.

"Nothing," Isobel told them. "Tanner, you are the local Packmaster so we defer to you on all Were related business."

"Right," Tanner agreed, still more than a little uneasy. "Where are the Weres now?"

I had lost interest in the conversation a long time ago and merely gestured to the ground around us. The two Weres gasped as they took in the carnage that surrounded them. Obviously, despite my appearance, they had been willing to hope for the best.

"Shit," they swore in unison.

"The Sheriff was angered when he saw six Weres accosting the human female," Isobel offered in a hopeless attempt to explain the bloodbath.

"Err, what happened to the woman?" Tanner asked with more than a little trepidation.

"That is strange," I told them. "When I turned around she was gone. I cannot find her scent at all; it is as if she was never here."

"Where did you see her last? We'll take a look," Tanner offered.

"Over there against the wall," I gestured to the section of wall as I said the words.

Crowley went over to the wall, trying to sniff out the human. Meanwhile, Tanner stood stock still, surveying the remains of his pack brothers with a mixture of awe, shock and revulsion.

"Tanner," Crowley called. "I can't smell a human. Can you smell anything?"

The Packmaster snapped out of his reverie and joined Crowley by the wall. After Tanner spent a moment analysing the area, the two Weres exchanged a quick look, but not quick enough to escape the notice of a vampire.

"Don't worry about it," Tanner tried to reassure us, his desire to brush the incident off curious and utterly unconvincing. "Weres have a very strong scent. It's probably masking the woman's."

We didn't have any information to the contrary, so Isobel and I acknowledged his words with a nod. With no trace of the woman's scent to corroborate my story this was a very serious offence on my part, that the Packmaster wasn't seeking any retribution was extremely odd; disconcertingly so. Still, there was nothing that could be done without proof, or at the very least, more information. There was little left for Isobel and I to do except wait until the two Weres had collected all that remained of their six comrades before we turned to head back to the nest.

"Something's going on," Isobel murmured to me at a frequency that was too low even for Weres to detect.

"Indeed, but there is no way for us to find out what that is without meddling in Were affairs," I replied just as quietly.

It didn't take long for us to reach the nest; my appearance meant that we had to move too fast for humans to detect us. We paused at the door, just long enough to ascertain that some of the vampires within were accompanied by their human companions, and Isobel entered before me to ensure I had an unobstructed path to my rooms. A few minutes later I emerged, showered and changed into fresh clothing, to the curious looks of the other vampires. Taking a seat in my study I studiously ignored them, other than arriving at my home covered in Were blood, there was no indication that anything out of the ordinary had happened tonight.

A/N: This is a completed story, but I still love reading reviews so drop me a line.

This story hasn't been beta'd, that means there are mistakes. If/when you find one send me a message and I'll fix it up.