Eric Northman had never felt more idiotic than he did as he lay still smoldering in the fresh fallen snow of a Swedish mountain top. He had thought that a little time to himself to atone for all of his foolish mistakes was just what he needed to get himself back on track. His selfishness and stupidity had cost him Nora, and nearly cost him Pamela. He knew that he had broken her heart in leaving, but breaking Pam's heart was all he seemed to be good at these days. He just needed time; she would understand. She always did... or so he hoped.
Pamela. If he hadn't made the worst decision in his thousand years and turned fucking Willa Burrell, none of this would have ever happened. She would have never ended up interned at the vamp camp. Nora would still be alive. Pam would have never been forced to resort back to the life that he had saved her from. That nasty psychiatrist would have never laid eyes, and even worse, hands on his Pamela. It made his blood boil. Watching Pam end the motherfucker then dance with his corpse still made him chuckle. His Pamela... she would forever amuse him.
But still, Warlow's blood had worn off, and he had almost gone up like a Roman candle, and if it weren't for the snow, he'd be dead. This vacation had seemed like just the thing he needed, but roasting like a pig at a white trash Bon Temps social event made him realize that what he needed had been by his side all along. For 100 years, Pam had been as loyal and faithful and true as the day was long, and he'd foolishly disregarded her love and friendship for reasons that made his head ache when he thought of them. As soon as the sun was down and he could leave his safety of the snow, he'd go back for her and ask her to leave their miserable lives behind and live as they had for the happiest years of his millennium. Two unneeded, unwanted, and annoying as hell progenies be damned; he was going to give Pam the life she still deserved... if she would still have him.
Just as he was sure that he couldn't wallow any lower in his own self-pity, a sight came into his vision that made him almost certain that his eyes were deceiving him. Pamela descended to the mountain top, the sunlight radiating off her hair and looking every bit like his own personal celestial savior. Was this real? If his own psyche had made Pamela appear before him looking even more lovely than he had ever seen her, he would gladly lose himself forever in his own insanity. But no; this did seem real.
"Pamela?" He finally managed to mutter, as his eyes focused on her delicate form settling in beside him.
"Nope." She replied in her usual dry tone. "Jessica Lange on location filming American Horror Story: Abominable Snow Man."
She settled down on her knees and gently stroked the charred skin of his face, and Eric felt his stomach quiver in anticipation. Even after 100 years, the feel of her soft skin touching his own was still intoxicating and evoked the most primal of reactions within him.
"The fuck happened to you?" She finally continued.
Eric huffed and brought his own hand to rest atop her delicate one that was stroking his face. "Fuck if I know." He replied. "I guess the fae blood wasn't as long lasting as I thought it would be."
"Obviously." Pam smirked.
There she went again, forever amusing him. "Did you really come all this way just to be insubordinate, Pamela?" He asked with the beginnings of a grin spreading across his face.
Pam rolled her eyes. "Of course I didn't. I thought I might see if you wanted to come home so we can work out whatever it is that's plaguing you together... like we used to."
Eric swallowed. Of course. Even after all that he'd put her through, still here she was by his side. He felt even more imbecilic than he had felt a moment ago. What gave him the right to ever doubt her love and loyalty for him? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
"Pamela..." Eric began. "I had no right to leave you. I thought that I needed time to myself to get my shit together, but I know now that I was wrong. I know that I've been awry and misguided in almost everything that I've done over the past few years, but especially in how I've treated you. There has never or will ever be anyone else who loves me with such affection, devotion, emotion, tenderness, passion, and respect than you, Pam. You're all that I'll ever want or need out of life. I'm not sure that I can ever really make up for all the cruel, vile, disgusting, and horrid things that I've said and done to you as of late, but I'd damn sure like to try... if you'll have me."
Twin streams of crimson tears streamed down Pamela's porcelain cheeks, and she collapsed atop Eric's chest a sobbing mess. He gently stroked her golden locks, and placed his lips into them, taking a moment to breathe in her delicious scent.
"Is that a yes?" He finally asked after a few minutes of petting her.
Pam slowly raised up, smiling brightly and nodding her head. "Of course it's a yes, Eric." She said through the small sobs that were still choking her. "It's all I've longed to hear for what seems like an eternity now."
Eric pulled her down into his arms once again and placed a gentle kiss against her soft lips. Out of nowhere, a thought crossed his mind that he couldn't believe he had never before entertained.
"Pam, when I made you mine I promised you an eternity, and I meant that. An eternity with you is a sweeter paradise than any one man deserves, particularly me. Even though you're already mine and always will be, I want to make it official."
Pam's eyes snapped open with interest. "What do you MEAN official?"
Eric grinned, grasped her hand, and looked deeply into her sapphire eyes. "I mean I want you to marry me, Pamela. Right here; right now, on top of this mountain. We don't need a piece of paper or any legal formalities to know what's always been true in our hearts. Be my wife, Pam. Just say it with me. I marry you. I marry you. I marry you."
Without hesitation, Pam locked her gaze fully into his own azure orbs and replied "I marry you. I marry you. I marry you."
Eric gently lifted her chin and enveloped her lips in the most perfect kiss of their existence together.
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Northman." He said when they finally pulled away.
"I love the way that sounds." Pam replied stroking his face with hers. "Of course you know you're not getting away without ACTUALLY putting a ring on it right?"
Eric rolled his eyes and yanked her back into his embrace. "Don't expect the Hope diamond. I don't think the Smithsonian will accept any offer I make."
"Yeah... well.." Pam huffed. "You can TRY."
"Anything for you my princess." He answered, as Pam's eyes lit up with anticipation and excitement.
Later, as they lay sated together, the snow acting as their blanket, Pam looked up at Eric with wide blue eyes.
"Do you think we can stay just like this forever?" She asked softly.
Eric placed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Maybe..." He answered. "But you'll eventually complain about the lack of Versace up here."
Pam pondered this momentarily. "This is true. So where will we go next?"
"Anywhere we feel like going. The world is our oyster, Pam." He replied. "We can do what we love to do; kill, and fuck, and laugh, and never worry about anything else again. Bon Temps is behind us. We never have to go back there again."
"What about Tara and Willa?" She asked, her voice lacking emotion.
"Who cares?" Eric answered quickly.
"NOT ME!" Pam exclaimed as she pulled Eric down to begin round two of their post-wedding love making.
Eric was certain that some things were just meant to be.
