TITLE: The Boy King
AUTHOR: mothermonsters
FANDOM: True Blood
CHARACTERS: Godric, Eric Northman, a few OCs
RATING: 18+
COUNT: ~2,000
DISCLAIMER: property of HBO
SYNOPSIS: bc exploring the canonically unmarked territory of G&E's past together is my fave thing ever & bc i believe that godric was king at some point bc he is too badass not to be.
Ashes and smoke swirled over the heads of the crowd and floated away into the twilight. It was beyond silent in the thick woods; not even the nocturnal animals dared speak their opinions. The enormous fire crackled and licked at the dead wood feeding it barely contained by a rudimentary circle of stones in various sizes. It was a ritual tested in truth by time and tradition; a pivotal scene of change and oddly human beliefs.
The subject in question stood raised on a platform of bound tree trunks, his body bare save for thin trousers and a long midnight cloak lined with fur. His pale face was mostly concealed by a buck's skull used as a mask, the antlers circling his head like a tall crown. Adorning the headpiece was bloodied fingerprints, winter blooms, and a loop of thorns. Some shaped glass dangled from the horns, tinkling lyrically with every movement the boy made. For now he was still, brandishing the black mark the priestess had drawn down the middle of his torso; it began at the center of the tattooed necklace and ended right above the navel. One long, strong line to indicate the pillar the boy was meant to represent to all of them, his people; their king.
As young as their new ruler appeared, his advanced age radiated from him like a false heat. Everyone stared in awe; the breathtaking sight of a prophecy come home. Only, to one individual among the undead crowd it meant something much different.
Through the eyes of the fledgling vampire, the ritual was something completely unheard of; like a secret he had stumbled upon unwittingly. He was one of them now, but Eric still felt like he shouldn't be here. He watched unblinkingly as the old priestess (old in appearance but still younger than the king) waved a stick of incense around the boy's crowned head. These people worshipped smoke and fire it seemed, as well as the trees in which they made homes and hid themselves from the destruction of day. It wasn't difficult to deduce that these two elements, earth and fire, were hazardous to one another. Why would one praise fire if their livelihood was so dependent on wood and forest? As if to answer Eric's silent question, the priestess took hold of Godric's arm and stated, "there is water in you. An element that can tame the fires in our hearts." Then she turned to face the unbreathing crowd below. "But our king also has a great deal of earth in him as well. Look at how grounded he is, how sturdy. When water matches with earth in one creature only promising things can happen." This brought about a tittering of hopeful words and nods from the people. Then she continued, "We know that water promotes devotion, compassion, and mercy. While earth grants firmness, ambition, and consistency. Together we can expect them to manifest as a voracious heartlessness when it comes to the enthusiasm to destroy everything we all have within us." The priestess threw herself to her knees in front of Godric, grasping at his hand as if she expected him to save her from falling. The boy behind the buck's head still stood rooted to his spot like the tall trees around him.
Eric found himself wondering if this was an act on the part of his maker. He had only known Godric for a period of a few decades, but he knew that the boy was not power hungry. He was introverted and more than content to remain within his own thoughts. For as powerful as he was, Death had no outward interest in exerting that power on others. Most definitely not politically at least.
But now he stood on a pedestal, draped in fur and paint. He looked absolutely frightening with only his mouth showing, painted black like the markings on his abdomen. The dark priestess at his feet looked sapped of energy as she heaved and clawed at the trunks beneath her. Perhaps this was an act too. It was clear to Eric that she was a fanatic, as impressive a tool of persuasion she was. The people of this clan listened to her and seemed to agree with whatever she said. Upon the pair's accidental arrival, they were taken to this woman immediately for inspection. Eric and Godric had only been passing through on their regular journey to wherever their food and fancies took them. Sensing other vampires nearby, Godric reluctantly decided to snoop even though it became apparent that he was the oldest creature in the area and that none of them would be able to do him any harm.
Another thing Eric noticed of his maker was that he avoided other vampires at all costs. In their travels they had crossed paths with others like them, or rather, more like Eric. Being newly made and not shy, Eric had intended to satisfy his curiosities by approaching these strangers. On the one occasion that he actually succeeded, Godric found his progeny amongst a small nest of young vampires exchanging stories. A deadening silence enveloped them from the mere energy the ancient one produced when he had approached them. The others turned their faces away and slunk into themselves as though hoping they would be invisible. Eric only peered at his maker through innocent eyes, attempting to convince the beast with those sharp fangs and dirty mouth. In the end they had stayed close for a short time while Eric made the closest thing he had to friendship since his death, and Godric remained hidden yet watchful.
On their last night in that area—- the last night Eric would ever try to convince Godric of keeping strange company— the circle of young vampires accompanied by Eric had successfully hunted and fed. It was the first time Eric had ever eaten without his maker. Godric arrived afterwards either lured by the smell of blood or by the energy in the space that had quickly turned sexual after the meal. There was something arousing about hunting, and of course human blood. Without any hesitation, the vampires were naked beneath the night sky with hands and mouths roaming. It brought back memories to Eric of his sexual prowess as a human Viking, and the many women who opened their legs for him easily. That was still the case, as Eric was undoubtedly handsome and always horny when blood was involved. He had taken numerous human women when he drank from them, but this was his first involvement with any of his own kind. He knew already that his mastery of sex had increased exponentially since dying, and was no match for any human when he wasn't careful; which he never was. But the female vampire who was already a near century older than him was in no way fearful of freeing his cock from its cloth prison and mounting him expertly. Somewhere to his side another pair was coupling but all Eric could focus on was the pleasurable movement of the female atop him, the way her breasts bounced, and the pressure of her thighs squeezing him.
He was lost in his own pending release and incapable of noticing the approach of another individual until it was taken away from him. A hand from above roughly snatched the dark hair of the female in his lap and tossed her to the ground as easily as if she weighed nothing. She landed with a thud and a crack of bones breaking as Godric stepped in between her and Eric. His fangs were extended in the most menacing way, a growl ripping through his adorned chest. The female pitifully inched backwards, eyes still clouded with lust as the much older threat stepped closer. Then she tried a bold approach, inching her knees apart in invitation to the place between her legs. Without words the two vampires engaged, and Eric watched Godric drop to his knees and slink over the female like a large cat. He was still stiff as his maker pushed the female down on her back, moved his pants aside and entered her roughly. Something changed in her eyes when they met Godric's but it was too late, the boy pushed in unnaturally hard, undoubtedly ruining her insides with every pump. The younger female screamed repeatedly and helplessly clawed at the body on top of her, digging bloody tracks into Godric's skin that did not seem to phase him at all. Just as brutally, the boy bit down hard into his victim's neck ceasing her screaming until all that came out was a gurgling noise. The female choked on her own blood while Godric finished meaninglessly and rose with a disgusted look on his face. When he walked away he looked piteously at his childe, who was still sitting in the grass with an erection.
During the scene, the other vampires had fled leaving Eric with the mangled figure. She would eventually heal physically; the scars left to her would go unseen. Eric had not waited for her; for all he hoped her wounds were too extensive to heal before dawn, and she would waste away before Godric got it in his head to finish her himself. He retreated to the cave that was their temporary resting place and curled himself into a naked ball in the farthest corner. A stirring on the other side came to his attention, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Suddenly the boy was leaning over him, knees drawn up under his chin. He waited an agonizing moment before speaking in that strangely accented voice. "We will not have companions. I won't allow it. There are no others like us, do not be mistaken, Eric." They left the following night and never spoke of that incident again.
That had been several years ago, and Godric's intolerance for only a handful of strangers had evolved into allowing himself to be the center of a whole clan's attentions, not to mention the top of their hierarchy. It was a change that Eric did not understand.
The winds shifted rattling the dark leaves and the beads of Godric's crown. The priestess raised her dark head and turned her eyes to the sky with wonder. She rose again and stepped away from Godric, her shoulders and head bowed before she addressed the sea of vampires in a booming voice. "The Gods smile upon our choice, and upon our king." Now her words were met with a chorus of cheers and howls. The wind continued as Godric finally moved, stepping down from the tree platform with inhuman grace, and then suddenly the entire world was still. The cloak fanned out behind the boy as he moved into the crowd; the crowd of his people. They parted like waves for him and grew into animation. Now Godric could better see the faces that had previously been shadowed in smoke. There were undead of all kinds; men and women, even children. Three no more than ten human years peered through the gaps in bodies to gape at him, but when he turned his masked face towards them they immediately shied away.
Coming to a place near the center of the assembly, the boy king halted and so did everything else. A profound energy surrounded the setting; Eric felt it in the pit of his eternally hollow stomach. Even he could not tear his eyes away from Godric's cloaked form. In the next moment two significant things happened: Godric dropped his fangs with a snap that echoed, and everyone else dropped to their knees. Somewhere in the back of the crowd, Eric the Northman was bowing in the grass with his head tucked down. Until he heard the noise of rattling glass and felt the breeze of cloth on his face. His gaze traveled to meet the head of a crowned buck with gleaming fangs, and when Godric rested his hand on his shoulder Eric knew that he had become a prince once more.