To Stare Death In The Face
By: Randomnormality
Summary: When Godric allows himself to be taken into custody by the Fellowship of the Sun, he finds himself placed in a silver cage, located in the basement of a church. To his surprise, he is not the only one caged in the basement. They call her a witch. He knows better than that. Her passive features irritate the Fellowship of the Sun and Godric finds a small piece of him, something he felt long since disappeared, becoming attached to this strange woman.
But nothing is easy as it seems.
Rating: This story is rated M for Mature Readers. Contains graphic violence, coarse language and sexual content.
Pairings: Godric/OC, Sookie/Eric
Author's Note: This story is of my own creations, even if I do not own the characters of the True Blood series. I have yet to come across a story that I find myself itching to write, although some points may seem to be already done by other authors, but it is most likely because we are following the plot of Season Two. Please note, my original character is of my own ideals and is not a mary sue, even though it may look that way in the beginning.
Thank you for reading and please leave a review, because it gives me inspiration to continue writing the story.
-Chapter One-
The Basement
He wasn't sure what really possessed him to give himself over to these idiotic humans. Maybe it was a sense of internal exhaustion from constantly ceasing the fights between his underlings and these radical believers. He did not fight as they led him through a rather beautiful church, the silver binding his arms behind his back burning into his skin as he is pulled carelessly down a flight of stairs. He finds himself roughly shoved into the silver-lined cage, his sensitive hearing catching the sound of a lock sliding into place as he takes in his surroundings.
"You can wait there," Steve Newlin coaxes, his voice filled with his self-endowed arrogance. "When we finish the construction in three weeks, you both can burn together."
As Steve leads two other Fellowship of the Sun followers up the flight of stairs, the seemingly young man took in his words and gazed around the cage. There wasn't much in the room. A cot lined in the back of the cage, the blankets untouched. The four walls of the cage glinted in the dimly lit basement, but as a strange scent presented itself, the two-thousand year old vampire found his attention pulled to the darkest corner of the cage.
Sitting with legs crossed was a girl, no older than himself in appearence. He knew a beautiful creature when he came across one and this young girl was no different. Her shoulder-length black hair fell to her shoulders in thick, lively curls, hints of deep burgandy appearing amongst the silk threads. Her complection was almost as pale as his own, with only a hint of a sun-kissed hue. Her face was free of any freckles or markings, except the single scar located just off the side of her left eye. Her petite body was clothed in a pair of denim jeans and a rich green tunic-style shirt, much like his own shirt.
"It is awfully rude to stare at a person," the soft voice traveled through his ears, the velvet-laced voice wrapping around his mind.
"My sincerest apologies," he replied, "My name is Godric."
The once closed eyelids parted, Godric finding it barely in his grasp to keep his blank mask as he gazes into pure molten silver, "I go by many names, and my full name is too long for one to stand remembering. You may call me Eris."
"How long have you been in here, child?" Godric asked, moving to sit a few feet in front of the girl, his body shifting to mirror her stance.
"Only a few days," her full, soft pink lips parted slightly as a smirk appeared on her lips, the glint of a fang appearing for a brief moment, "Apparently, I resemble a vampire."
"None of which I have seen," Godric replied, "Did they fail to notice you have a heartbeat?"
"I think my attempt at breaking out during the middle of the day hinted to them of the truth."
Godric inwardly smirked at the girl's nerve. The soft aura surrounding her screamed trouble and if he learned anything in his two-thousand-years of existence, that smirk on her lips told him she enjoyed stirring up problems. The sound of a door opening pulled his attention from her, her eyes sliding shut instantly, and the following footsteps echoing down the staircase caused his gaze to focus on the appearence of the man known as Gabe.
"Where is it, girl?" Gabe demanded through the silver cage.
Godric turned his gaze back to Eris, her eyes sliding open once more, a glint of mirth dancing amongst the mercury depths, "Your balls? I'm pretty sure you lost those when you signed your soul to the devil in the white suit. Your dick? I'd say it's the object Newlin has shoved so far up his ass." Godric could taste the rage burning from Gabe's essence. "Tell me, Gabe, does Newlin choke everytime you blow your load?"
A slam sounded as Gabe's hands greeted the cage, his fingers turning white as he grips the links dangerously tight, "Where is that pretty little sword of yours?"
"Oh? Lost it have you?" Godric quirked an eyebrow. No one uses a sword these days. "I assure you, I have been in this room all day and all night."
"So, you're telling me it grew two legs and wandered off?" Gabe sneers.
"Or three."
"That's impossible."
"Logic dictates that if all possible outcomes are deemed incorrect, then the impossible is practically probable," the girl returns, her fangs glinting in the dim light as her smirk grows wider as Gabe's face turns a darker shade of red.
"I can't wait for the day you burn in hell, witch," Gabe sneers.
"The day I'm in Hell, is on the day of your arrival, just to watch you burn," Eris retorts with ease, a giggle echoing from her lips as Gabe whirls around on heel and disappears up the staircase.
As the slam of the door echoes through the basement, Godric gives her an amused look, "A witch?"
"It's what they believe me to be. Why ruin the surprise?"
Godric felt a soft smile appear on his lips. This girl, barely over the age of sixteen, was no witch. He would have recognized the scent of a witch instantly. She was no vampire either, the active heartbeat is proof of that.
"What are you?"
She smirks again, "To you? I am the greatest enigma of all time. Tell me, how is it possible, that these morons managed to snag a vampire such as yourself?"
"Such as myself?"
"You wreak of an ancient world. You have to be closer in the thousands for your age and correct me if I am wrong, but older vampires are more powerful. There is no way these idiotic humans could capture and confine one of your stature," she replies.
"I gave myself over, in hopes that they realize not all vampires are bad creatures," Godric finds himself saying, "I've existed for so long that I find that I no longer think like a vampire."
"A depressed, suicidal vampire? That's not something you see often," she looks away for a moment, "Surely you have people who care about you."
"Most of my underlings are waiting for the right moment to surpass my status. My progeny is half my age and has learned enough to survive on his own. We have actually not spoken in many decades," he replies, "I hardly feed, unless I must, and even then, humans these days taste tainted."
"Tainted?"
"Industrialization. The chemicals found in most of their food runs through their blood. Ever since the Great Revelation, it is easy to come across humans who want to be our food, but I find it boring. There is no longer a need to hunt for our food and as such, there is no longer a need for basic vampire instincts. It is as if the world continues to grow smaller with each passing decade."
Eris is silent for a moment, contemplating his words, her tongue running over her lips before she says, "You hate your existence."
Godric says nothing. There isn't a need to. Her words were a simple statement of understanding. He swallowed needlessly, for he has truly given up. Given up for a sense of peace. Given up on the hope of humans and vampires co-existing.
Silence fills the basement, and he feels the nature of his existence call out to him as his eyelids slide shut. As he slips into his 'Dead Sleep', he recognizes a small glint flickering through the silver gaze.
Confliction.
