DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Trueblood series or it's wonderful characters that help inspire my creativity!
I look into his beautiful blue eyes, falling deep into their depths until I loose feeling in my body, sight in my eyes and thoughts crumble to dust before forming in my mind. I have not seen these eyes in over a thousand years and they are still as captivating as ever.
"Please don't hurt me!" I curl against the post that digs into my back. My wrists are raw but still I rub them together, I must escape. Each Viking has come and gone but this one is different. As he enters the tent, he seems nervous, very hesitant of his presence here. He stands by the slit, and I can tell his eyes do not focus on me, they are too busy looking around the room, avoiding my eyes that dare not to look at him.
"If your going to do something, please just get it over with." I begin curling into myself, preparing for the pain that will soon follow but he does not move. His eyes remain busy. I look at him for the first time and that's when I realize how beautiful this man is. I have seen beauty in its rarest form and this man makes it ugly. His eyes are so deep, so wise that I could stare into them for one hundred years and still find depth. Though he does not look at me I cannot help but stare. His hair falls into his eyes, golden blonde locks that are braided and twisted together into a ceremonial bun. His jaw is chiseled, his scruff covering it like moss to a rock, but he looks kept, even out here, on the road, traveling with the Vikings to conquer. His height is over towering, a rarity in this world. I have always been tallest, the tallest in the room but this man beats me by many a arm.
I realize I have not stopped staring at this man and all his beauty and that he has refused to look at me.
"I'm sorry. I... You don't deserve this... this barbarian treatment. One of your beauty..." He still doesn't look at me but his voice trails off, lost in thought at my apparent beauty that has left him speechless, and here I am reveling at his own blind beauty. He moves around the tent, making sure our radius never decreases and this upsets me. It upsets me this beautiful creature has not stepped forward. It not only upsets me but it angers me that he has not had his way with me. I am immediately shocked as this realization hits me. I want this beautiful man to do with me as he pleases yet he remains gentlemanly, staying far away and averting his eyes. For but a split second I believe it is because I'm ugly but the thought is brushed away at the mere fact that my beauty caused a war amongst the Gods.
"It is not your fault." His head shakes and my only wish is to cup that beautiful cheek bone in my hand and wipe away those line that crease his forehead in worry. He looks away and I realize my situation not only angers him but it upsets him as well. How could this huge Viking be brought to tears at my situation? This barbarian fears no emotion, a quality that is rarely if ever seen in one of his upbringing.
"I did not protect you. You are but a innocent frail beautiful women and I did not defend your honor. I do not deserve my sword, nor my name. I relinquish myself to you. Do with me what you will." For a moment I consider forcing this amazing creature to make love to me , to make sounds I have never used come from my mouth. I want this man to bend my body in ways I never imagined. And after that long, excruciatingly wonderful and memorable moment, I begin to think of escape. And again, my pleasuring moment returns. If I leave, this beautiful creature leaves my life as well.
"You have not had your way with me. I am at your will and yet you remain away. That is all the protection I need. You have defended my honor more in these moments then anyone ever before." For a moment I see anger in his face. True anger that scares me into rethinking my words. I fear I have hurt him, upset him in such a way he will storm away, and that I do not want.
"You have had horrible men in your life if this is protecting your honor, min kärlek" I laugh slightly at the fact that all men in my life have been horrible, even if they hadn't started out that way. His head tilts in confusion at the sound of my laugh and for the first time since entering this tent he looks at me. And my body convulses. I cannot not control the burning sensation that appears between my legs as this beautiful creature looks upon me. I rub my wrists together with no thought of escape. I try to rip off the rope so I can run at this beautiful creature and jump onto him, into him and force him into me with every particle of my being. His eyes look upon me for what feels like ever and then he leaves. We sat in silence for a moment, taking in each others beauty and then he turns and walks from the tent. Nay, he runs from this tent I am still held prisoner in.
I look into his eyes and see myself within them. But I do not recognize the girl that stares back at me. It has been a thousand years since this young women has looked me in the face and I feel nothing but sorrow for her, nothing but pity, nothing but jealousy. And though I can see the young me within these old eyes, I know the owner of them does not see me, does not see that which I use to be. He does not recognize me. Though this had been my choice, I still regret it.
He enters slowly, talking to the guards that stand outside. It takes some convincing but soon they agree to leave, to give him privacy while he "has fun with the kön slav" he gives a quick laugh and then turns to look at me anger on his face. "blodig fåne" and then he smiles at me. He seems to glide across the tent and soon his hands are cupping my face, bringing me closer to his lips. I have waited a week for this night, for his caring embrace. He pulls away so he can focus on the knots that wrap themselves around my wrists.
"Min väktare" I whisper it into his ear that is bent towards me, his eyes staring at my ropes. I see a small smile appear but it disappears under his veil of anger.
"Was it bad this quarter moon cycle? Did they hurt you? I will kill them." My hands are finally freed and I place them on his cheeks. I rub just below his eyes, trying to rub away the sleepiness that is ever present there.
"You stayed awake. All quarter cycle?" I cannot bare to see him this way. He cares for me in ways I wish he would not. I know our time together is almost over and it fears me what will happen to him if they find out.
"How could I not? Knowing what they were doing to you, what they were going to do." again the anger returns. I do not wish to know what his mind has created, how his imagination has spun the truth.
"My protector." I continue to rub his cheek and my other hand goes to his chest. I feel his heartbeat, his warm pumping blood flowing through his body.
"Eric." I look into his eyes. We had never exchanged names. We went deeper with our own terms of love. I can see his longing for my own name and I realize this is the moment my decision will be made. I could tell him everything, everything about me, the entirety of my truth, where I come from, how old I truly am. But that would put him in harms way. Do I tell him everything and risk his life? Or shall I lie and save his life, make these few moments with him last forever in my mind.
"Isabelle." And my decision is made. I've always loved that name. He will not know of my past, of what will happen to me. Though my feelings have and still do grow for this beautiful creature, he is mortal, and that is all he will ever be and I cannot watch as he slowly dies before my eyes. This Eric will live a long healthy life without me and my deceitful death-bringing ways.
"Isabelle." He smiles at my name and slowly and lightly kisses my lips, allowing the passion to grow between us and the tension to thicken. He begins to say my name, his voice thickening and deepening each time. I know he is preparing himself and he slowly lays down my body, leaning over me and staring into my eyes.
"Eric... My protector... They have not had me as you think." He stops suddenly, his excitement dying for but a second and then coming back, full throttle. He knows exactly what I have just said and it pleases him in a way I have never seen before. A smile lights up his face that is not only happy and joyful but full of lust and some deceit. He will enjoy conquering this battle.
I notice his hair is shorter. Though still a luscious blonde, his beautiful locks have been cut, to go with a modern look. I hate it. He is no longer my Eric, my protector. Though it has been a thousand years and his memories are gone, I still yearn for him in a such in way. A way that only a handful of men could make me feel. And he is the only one living. I continue to look at the rest of him, aware my staring has made him uncomfortable. His body is as cut as it was when he was a barbarian, a side affect I am now pleased with from vampirism.
He looks into my eyes, trying to force himself into believing he knows me, a feeling of deja vu but he can't. It may have been a thousand years ago, but my power stays strong.
Eric enters fast, he barrels through the doorway, blood covering his face and clothing. He rips off his shirt but I know immediately it is not for the excitement growing inside of me. His face is unrecognizable. He is full of anger and power. His barbarian roots are showing. He runs behind me, knife in hand and cuts me free. Throwing me his cloth shirt he runs back to the slit and looks outside.
"Eric? My protector? What is happening?" The moment I call him my protector he turns toward me. His barbarian side vanishes and he becomes the beautiful man I have grown to care for, dare I say love. He walks back over to me and kneels before me. His hand cups my cheek.
"Min kärlek. Isabelle." My stomach flips inside when he says that. I have, since the moment that name left my lips, regretted the decision to lie. "I need you to put this on. You are going to hide. You are going to run and hide and, when I finish this fight I will find you."
"Eric I-" His lips cut me off. One hand wraps around my neck while the other grips under my legs and lifts me to him. I put everything I have in my weak state into this kiss because I know this is the last time I will see this beautiful man. As if he feels the same, he begins to kiss like there is no tomorrow, which, in our case, there isn't. When we finally part we both gasp for much required air. He reaches into his pocket for a piece of paper and puts it into a hidden compartment of his shirt I wear.
"If, by the Gods cruel joke, I cannot find you, go here. You will always find me here." He kisses me one more time on the lips, very lightly so as to not excite himself, and stands. Looking down upon me, his hand lowers and moves one strand of hair from my face. I can see the longing in his eyes for not only battle but me.
He turns and walks to the slit, my voice stopping him short. "Eric." He stops but doesn't face me. I know, as well as he, that if he does indeed turn he will not be able to leave by will. I stand slowly, wearing nothing but his shirt and walk up to him. My hand touches his shoulder and I immediately feel him relax. I have been his safe haven just as he has been mine. He turns finally and looks into my eyes. A tear falls down my face as I watch his deep beautiful blue eyes become shallow.
"You will not remember me. These past weeks did not happen. I was a prisoner you held for fun. I have no name in your memory nor a face. When, if ever, you look upon these memories, you will feel happiness but not know why. In your mind, it will be the battles that exhilarate you, not love. You do not remember me, Isabelle, the women you have come to care for, the women you have grown to-" The thought of saying love crosses my mind. Did he love me? I loved him but how could I ever know if the feeling is mutual. I regret not asking before this moment. Not knowing, never knowing. "love." Another tear falls as I decide, even if he didn't, that he loved me. In my mind, when I look back at this time, I will think of love. Eric stands still, shallowness veiling his eyes for but a moment more and then his head shakes.
"Women. You must leave. You are too frail for this battle." He looks down upon my unclad body and gives me a disapproving look. He looks into my eyes, but the love that had been there just moments before is nowhere to be found. He turns and runs from the tent, just like the first time I saw him. I am left alone, with nothing but his shirt left, and my memories that are one-sided. The tears fall and for once I do not care I am showing my feelings. It may have been four thousand years since I was mortal, but in this moment, I do not feel like the Demi-god that I am.
My heart still flutters with excitement at the mere fact that he lives. I had grieved for this man, had taken my time getting over him and move on. I can only regret my decision.
"You can't go. Think about what your saying, what you're doing Vittoria." I look into Abby's eyes. They are nothing like his but staring into her, into anyone's eyes reminds me of the gaping despair that fills me each day.
"Abby I have to." she shakes her head but picks up a shirt that sits on the bed, folding it as she speaks.
"You finished the job. You followed the group and discovered there wasn't a vampire among them, just blood-thirsty fucking barbarians." Her face makes a face of disgust as she speaks of the barbarians. She has never liked barbarians, especially after her up-bringing. But who could blame her.
I've always loved Abby. She was-is my best friend. In everything I do, she has always been steps behind me, giving me advice I never truly want but always desperately need. Were it not for her, I never would have met Eric, but I would never tell her that. Blame is not what I would place on her, but it is certainly what she would place on herself.
I've loved her like a sister, as well as a mother and a daughter. She fills that gap in my life, she fills all the gaps in my life. And lucky for me, her magical abilities help her stay alive with me. She was my other half, but now, she's my third.
"He wasn't like them Abby. He was...different." She makes a face at my words and begins taking on a role of me, clutching the clothes in her hands.
"He was different, beautiful, wonderful. If you could meet him you would see." I push her over and pick up another dress.
"He was. He showed emotion and he cared for me." She stands slowly, brushing off her skirt.
"How do you know that wasn't some ploy to get in your pants." I look at her in anger. I would never have told anyone. It would have been my secret to my imaginary grave, if things hadn't gone horribly wrong, if it wasn't clear as day that I had had sex with that beautiful man.
"Abigail! How dare you-"She cuts me off with a look. These words have been in her mind for months, I have heard this conversation plaguing her thoughts since she found out.
"How dare I what? Your a fucking idiot. Your going to find this man who won't remember you and tell him what? 'You won't remember me because I swiped your mind with my God powers but I'm pregnant with your child.'" Abby was always my safe haven, before I met Eric, but now, she feels more like a prison.
"I didn't ask you for your opinion. And if I wanted an opinion you can be as sure as Hades that I wouldn't ask you." I know I've hurt her as she hurdles herself out of my room, but it's what I had to do, what was necessary to get me to Eric, to the address written in his beautiful handwriting, hidden in his beautiful shirt that lays on my bed. Though it is still covered in his blood, I hold it to me. I haven't washed it but in a few days it will no longer hold its sentimental value. When I have his real smell on me, I can rid myself of it. I take one last look at my room as I turn towards the door, entering my new life that is about to begin.
He still smells the same. It hits me all of a sudden as I breathe for the first time in minutes, for the first time since I saw him enter this room. He smells of woods, as if it has been deeply ingrained into his being, his homeland always being apart of him. I notice that he smells of blood too, a rare kind of blood that I have not smelled in hundreds of years, though I cannot place it. I have never liked the smell of blood and this woodsy smell clashing. It has always been followed by horrible things.
The decision of how to arrive plagued my mind the entire trip. Eventually I decided on approaching this decision head-on. For some reason the idea of crawling through woods just does not sound as captivating as this luxurious cab I sit in now. The horses neigh as they are pulled short in front of the house. It's bigger then I ever would have imagined, then I ever did. Most barbarians come from poor families in need of money. Eric's family was certainly in no need of money.
"The Northman residence ma'am." I laugh at his name. Northman. Eric Northman. It does have a nice flow to it. For but a moment I imagine yelling that name whilst in a very revealing position. But I shake off that thought and focus on getting into the house. I pay the driver and turn to the house. Though all the candles are lit, the house does not seem very lively. I knock on the door. No one comes. I knock again, yet I am again denied entrance. Though it is impolite, I try the handle, too nervous to care for manners. The door opens easily but the moment it does I wish it hadn't.
The first room is covered in blood, from floor to ceiling. Everything within the room lays covered. The blood slowly drips down the walls, leaving behind small trails of blood that, sadly, do not seem out of place in this room. A massacre has occurred at the Northman residence and my heart begins to leap from its chest. I can feel myself becoming ill but I continue on, I need to know.
The next room is the same as the first but I notice two bodies lay on the floor. I walk to them slowly, unable to control myself before I bend down and turn over the bodies. Though I am pregnant, my Demi-God strength stays strong. Both are women, though one looks to be about the age of ten. I grab my stomach and pray to every God that my child does not receive this fate.
The kitchen is covered as well, but the room itself lays in shambles. Every drawer is out and emptied, the contents scattered across the floor. I place my feet warily, trying to keep the blood off my shoes, out of my mind, but it is no use. I misstep and hit a bucket that lays bent on the floor. I freeze where I am as the sound travels throughout the house, the dead silent house. I move not an inch more until no sound reaches my ears, no sound but the wind outside and my beating heart that struggles to continue on.
I finally come to one of the two bedrooms, the room for the children. There are four beds in this room, two of which have been personally altered for their height. I would have laughed if this night went the way it was suppose to, the way I planned. And in each bed lays a body, each body deformed beyond recognition. Two young boys lay in the smaller bed, their faces cut up almost identically. From their size, I would guess both were the same age, possibly twins. I notice, for the first time, the cuts seem more rounded then just slits. These bodies were not cut up, they were attacked.
I stop at the first of the taller men and my first recognition is his hair. I know right away it is too brown to be my Eric, my protector. I pause for a moment, give this man the respect he deserves. I may not have known Eric's family, but it is as if they were mine, now that I hold his child inside of me.
I finally approach the last bed. The body lays as if it's been put to rest. His hair is long, braided and twisted just as Eric's had been. I touch a stray lock that fell from his intricate design. I twirl it a little and then place it back with the rest of its brethren. His face is too scarred to tell me if this man is my love. His height is almost perfect but I cannot tell as he lays before me. I can feel my stomach clenching, readying itself to dump its contents but I hold back. I prepare my mind for my next move. My hand slowly reaches for his face, trembling every centimeter that it moves. When I touch his face, a tear falls from my eye. But I hold it back, I hold back the tears.
I rub his cheek, like I had wanted the first time I met him, trying to remove the lines of worry. My thumb slowly traces his eyelid and then, with every bit of emotional strength I have, I lift the lid. Shallow beautiful blue eyes stare up to me, just as they had the last time I looked into them. And then my tears fall. My hand shoots back from this beautiful face and I begin convulsing as my stomach empties itself. I look back at his face and my tears come again. I just stand there staring at his face, laying as if he were asleep.
I hear them when they pull up, I hear them mentally as they get out of their carriages, coming to speak to Mr. Northman and his son, his beautiful son. I kiss each of Eric's eyelids and walk quickly from the room.
Eric's house sits close to a patch of woods and I dash to the line of trees. The moment I am hidden safely away I hear the yells from within the house. For a few more moments I look at the home, I think of Eric and how this night was suppose to go, and then I turn and walk away with my fatherless unborn child.
I realize, too late, that he was trying to talk to me in my shocked and reeling state. I continue to look at his body as he speaks, his words not reaching me. I finally look at his face, using my eyes to figure out what he is saying while my ears are still in my flashback.
"Are you even listening to me?" I blink a few times, clearing my vision and look at Eric's eyes that are full of anger. "Who. Are. You?" he looks into my face again and when I don't answer, he turns to the women at his side. "I hate the women of this generation. They hold themselves in such high standings yet are as uncivilized as swine." I smile meekly at Eric's joke. Though it has been a thousand years, he still seems to talk with a barbarian tone, though his accent of his homeland is almost non-existent. "She smiles. Won't respond, but smiles when I mock her." He sighs at my "stupidity".
The women standing next to him moves forward and looks closely at me. "Maybe she's dumb. Like those people who can't-"
"I know what dumb means Pam. I do not need a human dictionary. If I did, I would tote our good friend Bill around." Though the women, Pam, wants to laugh, she acts hurt. She knows Eric would not want to hear her laughter.
I look again at Eric, comparing him to the Eric that has plagued my thoughts for one thousand years. I did not do him justice. Hades must have cheered for joy when this beautiful creature became one of his demons. This man looks nothing like the man from my dreams, from my memories, he is better.
I have never felt so much pain. I have been killed hundreds of times, tortured to death, each more vile then the one before. But this pain is incomparable. I would much rather any of those deaths than this moment. I want nothing but for it to end.
"ERIC!" I yell out his name, hoping and praying that he would be given back to me, I would be given the gift of seeing his beautiful face one more time, just enough to make this bearable. But I will never see his face again, never touch his beautiful scruff covered skin, never look into his deep beautiful¾the pain is so bad, I can't take it. All I want is for it to be over. My entire body aches. I arch my back, try to move to get comfortable but a dozen hands force me back. I shove them off easily. "ERIC!" I scream again for him, for his help and his love. I just want it over.
*crack* I hear it. I hear the deafening sound that sends my mind into a spiral, and then I no longer feel the pain, I no longer feel myself, I no longer feel my child. All I feel is empty.
I feel myself falling, a feeling I have felt many times before, hundreds of times before, but this one scares me because I am not the only one relying on my life. I push through, force myself to breathe. I have never done this but how could I not try. I may have lost Eric, but I will not loose our child. For but a second I wake, and that is all that is needed. I hear the baby's first cry, see her small head in the arms of my doctor, watch as Abby walks over and takes the child, all her anger and frustration from the past nine months gone the moment their skin touches. She smiles to the baby and then looks at me. Her smile drops and she gives me a curt nod. She will take care of her until I return.
"Isabelle. Her name is Isabelle." And then the blackness finally gets me.
"This fucking women is getting on my last nerve." He begins to pace in front of me, his anger becoming his dominant feature. This is not my Eric. I have only seen his face like this one other time, when he was prepared for battle and came to free me. My nerves begin to act up, I know my death may be coming soon.
Abby? Can you hear me? I know that I have to escape here, I cannot survive Eric's death. He cannot know of my power, of my abilities.
Holy crap Vit! Where the hell have you been? We have been looking for you every where! Her thoughts fill my head and I immediately feel relief, her voice bringing me back into my mind set. I am here to do a job no matter what. Even if my long lost lover is found, I must stay strong.
I'm fine. Just a little tied up at the moment, could use some help. I can hear her laughter, mentally chuckling and then, the moment she realizes I'm not joking, it stops.
You're a God, how did u get tied up? No matter how many times this happens, she always has to ask.
Do we really have to have this conversation right now? I can hear her chuckling. It fills my head and immediately I feel happier, her emotions spilling over to me.
"Do you feel that? Is it just me or does she feel...happy?" I look into Pam's face and try to calm down my emotions. Worst thing about vampires is their sense for emotion, like they actually need that. You'd think someone who has no emotion wouldn't need an extra sense to feel other's emotions.
I'm gonna guess you didn't get the job done? You know they won't be happy about this. I sigh, pricking up Pam and Eric's interest. There are way too many conversations going on.
Ok, Abby? Could you just get me out? We can talk LATER. Eric walks over and peers into my face. Even peering, this man is still beautiful. Death suits him.
Fine, fine. Just give me a sec. I'll get you out. I look into Eric's eyes, as he searches through mine. I can't help but think of removing my spell, revealing to him his true human past, telling him about his daughter. Isabelle. I have not seen her in over five hundred years, and my heart still leaps lightly in my chest when I think of her. And the vampires take notice.
"How dare you? You cannot keep me prisoner here. I do not want to be like you! I never have!" Though her eyes are the exact same color as her father, she carries not one other quality. Not his kindness, his loving heart, his golden locks. A tear falls as I think of him, but she believes my feelings are hurt because of her. In her mind she accomplished her goal when entering this fight. "For a God, you sure have a weak heart. I mean come on mom, you conceived me by raping some peasant on the side of the road, and yet you cry when I want to leave." She scoffs at me, just like she always has.
"Not everything is about you Isabelle. You have to accept that you are not the only person on this planet." She looks into my eyes as she speaks.
"I may not be the only human, but I'm certainly the only one of my kind, thanks to you." She storms off, ending this conversation the same way it has the other five hundred times. She may have been born of a Demi God, but she did not receive my immortality. Her one other quality from her father was his mortality. My heart stops in my chest as his image flashes through my head, his bloody image.
She was my last piece of him, my last reminder our love had happened, I couldn't loose her. So, when the time came, on her eighteenth birthday, I changed her, made her one of a kind. I paused her aging, used most of my power to do so, sacrificed my life to give her more. And she has never thanked me. To her, it was a curse, not the gift I had intended it to be. I know she will leave, I just hope that day is not soon. The thought of no longer looking into Eric's eyes scares me, and they're not even his eyes.
"Ok, this girl is a freak. Come on Eric, just kill her and we can get out of here. I hate this place. Only fucking Bill would have his crappy house turned into a mansion when he became king." Pam scoffs in the corner, looking around at the velvet walls.
"Oh Pam, like you wouldn't do the same." Eric still stares into my eyes as he speaks.
"Maybe, but it wouldn't be this...tacky." she lifts one of the gems from the chandler that hangs from the ceiling and flicks it away in disgust. Eric laughs at her, amused by this girls disgust. I search his eyes, look for that familiar depth that has always soothed me in my dreams, but I can't find it. It's as if he has hidden it, hidden the depth. I tilt my head as I look at him, as I try to find my Eric. His head tilts in response.
"What's your story? Who are you?" He smells the air and looks deep into my eyes. "What are you?" his face leans in closer, only centimeters from my lips, and my heart speeds up.
GOT IT! My mind comes alive as Abby's victory yell sounds through out it. The room fills with what seems like a black smoke and Eric looks to Pam, terror filling his eyes.
"It's a trap!" Pam runs at Eric, to save him but before she gets to him my vision becomes clouded, the black smoke swallowing everything in sight.
"The girl!" I hear Eric's voice and then my ears pop. No sound reaches me and my vision is so clouded I close my eyes. I have lost him. I waited one thousand years to see his beautiful face and I missed my chance. One tear falls down my face as my sound comes back and my vision clears up. When I open my eyes, I see Abby standing in front of me, smiling like she granted my dearest wish. If only she knew she just destroyed my dearest wish from coming true.