Chapter Two: The Unforgiven

Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them.

Sookie kept repeating the words in her head, reminding her so starkly of her grandmother. They may have come from a small town in Louisiana but her grandmother made sure Sookie read books to broaden her knowledge. And George Eliot was one of Grandmother's favorite authors. Sookie felt a vague, dull pain in her midsection. She imagined she had fully recovered from the loss. After all, it has been almost a year. Or more than? Sookie refused to be concerned with the day her grandmother died. That day had been the beginning of all the horrors in her life albeit the presence of Bill. Her so-called protector, ex-lover. Dark were the thoughts that swirled in Sookie's head as she drove in a hurry, though carefully, down the parishioner's road leading out of Shreveport to…

She has no idea where she's going.

The red light flashed. Sookie stepped on the brakes and mentally whipped herself. A drunk man crossed in front of her car, leered at her, then proceeded forward. Sookie took a deep breath and expelled the air from her lungs. She shook her head. "What the hell am I doing?" she asked aloud. I don't even know where I'm going…or where Eric is.

And why should she be so bothered? Why did she care?

It's the blood talking, she said in her mind. It's only the blood talking. But Sookie felt afraid of…whatever it is. She wondered if that was what Eric was feeling at the moment. Fear. But, what did Eric fear? Well, perhaps, the Sun? Meeting a true death? Logical, yes, but so unlike Eric. If there was one thing Sookie knew well about the Nordic vampire, it was he cared for nothing and no one, unless it posed a threat to his position in the vampire hierarchy. Sookie had no idea how he treated his vampire offspring, Pam, but she knew Eric treated other vampires and humans like crap.

Even her. Especially her.

How many times had Eric betrayed her, hiding his real motives behind a mask of apparent gentility and concern for her well-being? Sookie realized she kind of hated him and his guts. Eric will just about dare anything to protect himself.

So where was she going again? She had to know, to decide. No one was crossing the road anymore and she could feel the tension of the male truck driver—no, hear him—wanting to get his trip over and done with.

The red light switched to green.

Sookie stepped on the gas pedal.

Over the course of his vampire life, Eric Northman mostly stayed by his maker, Godric's side. There were years—centuries—when they parted ways, more because of Eric's desire to see the world beyond Europe with his own eyes. Many an argument had arisen between him and Godric but always, before Godric's Spiritual Conversion, his maker gave way to his demands. Eric thought he was definitely a spoiled brat and wondered presently how Godric could have borne his mule-headedness with patience and understanding. Perhaps, even then, Godric was changing.

Its conclusion: Godric's long-awaited meeting with the sun.

There was no helping the bit of bitterness that crept upon Eric.

He did not know what happened to him in the last few hours. He was reminded of Godric all of a sudden and the feeling of loss akin to the one he felt for his human family engulfed him. He wanted to get out of Fangtasia and clear his thoughts. Thousands of years of memories and ideas, all swimming inside his head. Even a vampire can take as much.

He could not tell Pam. Pam, despite her years, was still a vampire child. She will not understand. And she could have mothered him, which Eric did not want happening.

He thought about going to Sookie's house earlier, even before Fangtasia opened for the night. She would have no choice; the power he held over her was now almost unbreakable, the bond. It will not be long before she is his. But even the thought of Sookie's delectable body in his hands did not push him to fly to her place of residence. Eric imagined this to be the bloody "blues" mortals described.

Hell, he was no human. Vampires did not have any business having such feelings. Definitely not vampires as old as he was.

So, where is he going? He knew he was well away from Shreveport now. Still in Louisiana? Eric looked about him. He had flown out of his office window in Shreveport after he realized the folly of his situation. When he thought he heard Sookie's voice inside Fangtasia, Eric knew he was possibly going insane. So, he literally flew away.

No, not Louisiana. Mississippi?

Eric landed. Wherever he was, it was far from Shreveport. He reckoned he could go farther. Much farther.

But the sun will be up in a few hours. He might as well look for a temporary shelter. Then again, as he looked around, he was nowhere. He landed in the midst of woodland, with only the light of the moon filtering through the thick foliage. There was nowhere to hide. Except…

Eric had to smile to himself. It has been a long time since he relished the feel of earth on his skin. At that moment, he applauded Bill Compton's resourcefulness. For someone who wanted to be re-assimilated into the world of the living, Bill felt no compunction burying himself in soil. Without the coffin, of course. Chuckling to himself, Eric dug into the ground and after reaching the fourth feet, he stopped, lowered himself into the hole, and buried himself.

As he closed his eyes, he made the decision.

A few days back home might be something worthwhile.


The old man then prepares to die regretfully. That old man here is me.