July, first, dawns bright on the thirty-fifth year, of Sookie Stackhouse's life. And even though she didn't sleep much, during the night, she is awoken with the first rays of light that burst into being. Having nothing too pressing on her agenda, she takes her time slowly taking stock of her senses. She keeps her eyes closed tight against the bright, warm sunlight making its way into her room.
She can hear the bird song, and insects buzzing, the house creaking and settling. The dripping of the faucet in the hall bathroom reminds her that she's been fixin' to get around to that. Sookie takes a deep breath of the melting morning-dew mixed with floral notes from her backyard garden. And as she stretches languidly she can feel the soft cotton sheets as they slide along her tanned supple skin.
As she finally pulls herself upright. She sits on the edge of her bed and lets her feet caress the old-worn-wooden floorboards. As she rolls her shoulders and stretches out her sore back and neck. When she notices her taste buds rebelling at the furry purple yuck, that comes with drinking two generous glasses of red wine the night before. She makes her way into her ensuite to deal with the fuzz, after which she promptly makes her way to the kitchen. Soon the heavenly aromas of coffee and hazelnut start to filter through her still sluggish brain.
Sookie takes her morning coffee on her porch as often as she is able, and this morning couldn't be more perfect. The porch swing sways gently, as she sits with her feet tucked up. The mild breeze lightly lifts the soft downy curls that frame her face, despite the bun she has the rest of her strands restrained within. As she holds her morning cup of coffee in both hands she takes a slow deep breath, allowing the tantalizing aroma to soothe her senses. Her mug is a large tactile ceramic vessel that she can't help but caress the bumps and grooves of.
As she sits on the porch sipping her first cup of coffee, Sookie notices how lovely her yard looks in the soft early morning light. Her fragrant garden wraps around her house now, and the still in-good-condition paved driveway is more clearly defined with tiny solar lights and small patches of wild flowers. She is quite pleased with the effect.
Sookie continues the exploration of her senses by engaging her own personal sixth sense, with focus and intent she opens her mind to explore her surroundings. Ever since things slowed down to boring after Eric was hauled off to Oklahoma, she has been working hard to develop her curse into a gift that isn't the bane-of-her-existence. As the morning rays lengthen, and her coffee cools, Sookie Stackhouse lets her awareness creep outward in concentric circles. Not stoping to dwell on the thoughts she comes across. She simply lets the minds buzz in the background. Her mind flitting from thought-pad to thought-pad, flowing outward like a wave from a stone thrown into a pond. Her morning ritual is more about stretching her distance and shielding muscles than listening into the banal inner-workings of her neighbours.
Sookie finds the highway and follows lazily the thoughts of passing motorists back and forth, and back and forth through her range. At first in-time with the porch-swings-tattoo. Simply tracking the passengers thoughts as they pass along the highway. She jumps easily from vehicle to vehicle following, as they zip along through her consciousness. This has been one of her favourite morning pastimes and she continues until her coffee cup is empty.
Sookie grudgingly returns to her kitchen and starts making breakfast, while she continues to scan her property and anything in her range as she cooks. Eggs and toast and another cup of coffee are another part of her daily ritual. She loves the velvety texture and taste of the medium boiled egg, melting butter, and crispy salty sourdough toast.
As Sookie enjoys her breakfast, she notices that this morning is unlike any other. Because until now she's never noticed what seems like a pulsing heartbeat in the forest. It pulses and throbs like a beacon, drawing her into its epicentre deep in her woods behind the house. Looking in the mirror she can't help thinking that at thirty-five-years-old she still looks just as good, if not better today than she did when the Vampires first came out of the coffin some ten-years-ago. She dresses quickly, throwing on a simple white and flowy eyelet sundress, then carefully she walks as briskly as her barefoot feet allow out to find the source of the pulsing magic.
The forest is alive and teeming with life, she can feel the vibrations in the soil through her bare feet. As Sookie carefully picks her way along the path, she can hear small birds and animals flit and scurry about, while the trees themselves seem to grow taller and lean towards her as she passes. The wildflowers and hanging Spanish-moss make the forest seem magical and they line the arterial path leading her onwards deeper into the forest. The forest is thick here, the floor mossy and cool on her feet.
As she nears the pulsing heart she can see what looks like a door of light and warmth. It calls to Sookie with a siren song of family and power. She can hear faint whispering of words and thoughts leaking out of the door. It's strange to see a door out in the forest so deep with nothing but forest around for miles. It's a very old looking door, solid oak maybe with carvings and filigrees decorating it. But it was all-in-all a simple, if closed, oak door. It's scarred with age and what looks like a few burn marks here and there. She knows of course that it's not some leftover item from Home Depot. The door even has a casing with moldings that would be right at home in some old plantation home down yonder. And the knob and hinges are decorated in intricate silver Celtic knots.
The moment she touches the portal she is engulfed in light and air. Her body rises and hovers five feet off the ground, her back arched and mouth open in a silent scream. Meanwhile Sookie travels mentally following the reignited bond, she sees the world through Eric's eyes. The images flash quickly, as they are not in real time. It only lasts a minute, but to Sookie it feels like an eternity before she slowly sinks to the ground unconscious.
Sookie witnesses how Eric has been under-the-thumb of a capricious and cruel Queen who has grown more and more unpleasant as the years go by. Eric is embarrassed, angry and resentful of his cage; gilded or otherwise. How Eric's aloofness during public events results in periods of torture and deprivation in silver lined cells.
He has been stripped of all of his connections and wealth, as he is contractually forbidden to contact anyone of-his-blood nor previous allies unless under direct supervision of her majesty the Queen. And since his every move is watched and recorded, it was discovered that he had a hidden burner phone in his coffin. That is when the punitive stripping of his wealth had occurred.
Eric has recently been contemplating a major defiance at the upcoming summit. He isn't sure how he is going to get time alone, but he plans to offer the state to any who will take Freyda's head. A death sentence since he is contractually bound to defend the state and specifically Freyda's undead-life from any and all threats including himself. However if the attack occurred during a period during which he was indisposed, then how could he be held at fault?
It's a risky plan, but worth it in his mind since it's only been eight years and he's already at the end of his rope. He just has to be careful in how and whom he approaches for help. All he knows is that he doesn't have another decade of servitude in him, let alone nineteen.
As Sookie comes back to herself the bond reawakens she and Eric have a moment of shared consciousness. Eric wakes with her name on his lips in the middle of the day, to find their bond humming to life once again in the back of his awareness. "Sookie," he pleads aloud, and he swears he hears her tell him, "hold on, my love, hold on".
As Sookie wakes for the second time today, she feels as if she has run a marathon. Her breath comes in great big gulps and her heart races, in fact it feels as if she has two heart beats. The more she examines the dual heartbeats the louder and more out of sync they seem. Panicking she hyperventilates and almost passes out, when all of a sudden both hearts begin to beat as one. One heart pumps oxygen to her brain and the other her fae-spark sends centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Her skin glows and her eyes flash with power, until finally her breathing slows and she relaxes back into the soft forest floor undergrowth.
"Happy birthday to me," she thinks. As language, customs and rights, spells, wards, and innate magic, all of it expands and unpacks itself into her mind. She can't help but smile a wicked smile as she opens her eyes to her new reality. She opens her hand and when a light orb appears she tosses it playfully, and just as easily extinguishes it. She stands and after brushing herself off pops straight into her kitchen.
On her first ever pop, she discovers that it's almost like a tunnel that connects the two locations together, very quickly. This she realizes, is how fae don't end up inside something and why there aren't sightings of people popping up out of nowhere throughout history. Popping is instinctual and simple.
This is also posted on my wordpress site - suzbc dot wordpress dot com