A/N: Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story, put in their favorites, and on alert. I'm so overwhelmed by the responses to this story and I can't express my gratitude to y'all enough!
I also have to thank my beta Sheknitsnicely. You're so awesome, I can't thank you enough for working with me, I'm so, SO lucky to have you! I love you!
Disclaimer: We all know I don't own them, I just wish I did!
The fire had long since burned down to embers and yet they remained just where they were, laid out in front of its dying warmth, entwined in each other's arms. She watched him intently as his eyes became heavier. Lifting her hand to his cheek, their gazes locking one last time, she laid the softest of kisses on his mouth and watched as the dawn took him.
They had stayed awake all night, talking only very little and now, though she knew she must, she dreaded having to leave him. To leave the little world they had begun to create for themselves here was like waking from the sweetest dream, a dream she wished she could stay in it only a little longer, to revel in the joy that the memories of the night brought to her. But she knew it was too dangerous. Amena would already know that she had spent the night on the beach and she would be angry, but if anyone else were to discover it, it could be dangerous to them both.
Taking the blanket from where it lay on their legs she covered him gently, kissing his cheeks and eyes tenderly as she lifted the material to shield him. She marveled one last time, as the blanket covered him completely, at the insanity of what she had done. She had rescued a Vampire, she had sheltered a Vampire… had she fallen in love with him? She wasn't sure, but she knew she already cared for him differently and more intensely than she had ever cared for anyone. She could marvel at her insanity, but she could not bring herself to regret it. Even now, though he was completely unaware of her presence here, she felt as though he was calling to her, compelling her to stay with him and forget everything else.
She was not naïve enough to pretend that he was an innocent, and not foolish enough to pretend that he wasn't dangerous. He had revealed last night, without a moment's hesitation, just how very dangerous he was and with how little compunction he would kill, and yet she felt somehow sure that he would never hurt her and that he felt deeply for her as well.
Steeling herself against the need to stay near him, Saoirse closed the little door to the cottage and made her way back up to the castle. She could have laughed when she saw Amena in her now familiar position, waiting in her rooms, arms crossed under her bosom, face red and scowling, her foot displacing the freshly laid rushes on the flagstones as it tapped away in consternation.
"Not this morning Amena, please?" Saoirse said as she sat at the small table and began to eat her breakfast. Just as Amena was about to reply with a biting rebuke she could already hear running through her nurse's head, there was a knock at the door. Amena rushed forward and answered it. Saoirse didn't need to hear the whispered conversation to know that it was one of Niall's pages. He had returned and wished to see her immediately. The relief that flooded through her was so intense that she was glad she was sitting. First, her night with Eric and now her grandfather was home and safe. Truly, this day was blessed.
Just as Saoirse was finishing, Amena closed the door behind Niall's page and began to pull dresses out of the chest where they kept her finer clothes, the ones she only wore when Niall was in residence.
"I think the green silk today, don't you?" Amena asked, suddenly in higher spirits. Whatever her mistress was up to on the beach, she was sure that Niall's return would put a stop to it. Saoirse was always happier and easier to manage when the Prince was here. Yes, all would be much better now, she told herself, pulling out the fine garment and a few beautiful matching ribbons that she would braid into Saoirse's hair to compliment the dress.
An hour later, Saoirse entered her grandfather's apartments with a smile painting her face. She was so glad that he was safe and, though she felt trepidation when she thought of the possible concession s they might have to make to the Vampires, she was sure that Niall had done his best.
"Grandfather!" She said when she saw him standing by his desk, arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window. Running to him, she threw her arms around him and held him close. "I am so glad you are safe. We all worried terribly." She felt Niall return her embrace, but as his arms came around her, holding her more tightly than she could ever remember him doing, the physical contact rendered his mind more open to her and, though she had never, ever caught even a stray thought from him, she felt immediately his emotional state. He was angry, upset and deeply anguished.
Saoirse pulled back from him almost immediately and, when she caught sight of his face, the still wet tracks of the tears that streamed down it confirmed his pain. "What is it? What has happened?" Niall made no answer, only pushed her away from him and turned his back on her, leaning over his desk as though he could not even support the full weight of his body. "Grandfather, please, you're scaring me! What has happened?" Her words were like a noose around his neck, tightening with every breath he tried to take, but he knew he had no choice but to tell her.
"The peace has been made." He began. "Halbjorn has agreed to allow us to remain in this realm and to keep Ireland as our stronghold." He felt Saoirse's hand on his back, urging him to turn and look at her. He could not.
"Grandfather, this is wonderful! Truly, it is much more than any of us had expected." She said, trying to understand what was disturbing him so.
"There is more." He attempted to tell her but his voice broke in a sob. In his centuries of life, in his centuries as a Prince of his people and a warrior, through all the death and sorrow that he had endured, nothing, NOTHING, had ever cut so deeply to his heart as the news that he must tell her next. He would have given himself in exchange if he thought for a moment that Halbjorn would have agreed to it. But he knew, with the understanding that only one monster could have for another, that his anguish was the true purpose at the heart of Halbjorn's request. Keeping him, draining him, even if Halbjorn managed to control himself and make the end slow, would not have pleased his enemy as much as the knowledge that the pain of this moment would haunt him for centuries to come.
"Halbjorn has requested a marriage to bolster the peace." He finally spat out, his words coming without breath between them, hoping that the quicker they were said the faster the agony would be over. He turned now to his great granddaughter, taking her in for the first time in days, watching her as the shock registered on her face. Astonishment was there, but not yet understanding.
He distracted his mind while waiting for her reply, by truly looking at her. So often, when he gazed upon her, he saw the little girl that she had been all those years ago: tear stained, dirty, frightened in a way that a small child should never have to be. But she was none of those things anymore. He marveled quietly that she was only so little Fae, for truly he could not think of one of his full blooded kinswomen who was more beautiful than she. Her hair shone like spun gold in the morning sunlight that streamed in through the casement and her skin was like cream, touched with the softest blush at her lips and cheeks, but it was her eyes that were her true beauty.
They shone the same color as the sky on a clear day and the pools of bright, vivid color ran deep, all the way down to the heart of her, still very much innocent despite the trials of her life, and filled with love. Love he knew that she gave so freely, love that never allowed her to understand the darker nature of others, love that led her to deep pain when others did not recognize or return the gift she so freely granted. How long would it be before his child's heart was crushed? How long would it be before the light that made him love her so was deadened by the blow that fate had dealt them both? Would he ever see her again, after he gave her into darkness? If he did, would he even recognize her, or would the woman who stood before him now, shining brighter than the sun and worth more than any of the priceless things he had given her in her short life, be a mere memory? Would she walk the rest of her days a wraith, a shadow of who she was now?
"I don't understand. He demands… a Fae bride? But surely he will kill her before the vows are even said?" Niall felt the grimace that darkened his face. No, understanding had not yet come to her.
"This was my great fear. We have lost so many. I…we…the people cannot afford to lose another mother." He saw the moment realization dawned. He had been wrong, telling her was not the true punishment. Watching as she understood, as she realized how thoroughly her life was over, how deeply he had betrayed her, this was the payment of the Fae debt that Halbjorn wished to extract. He almost felt pity for the Vampire King that he would not be able to be here, a fly on the wall, to watch his triumph.
"No." The single word pierced him like a blade. He watched as she backed away from him, shaking her head back and forth in disbelief, as though he meant to do her real, physical harm. He wished with all his heart to comfort her, to take her in his arms, to take away her hurt even though he was the cause of it. But there was no help for it. No magic he had could change what would come. Instead he lowered his head again, not wishing to look any longer as the light of her love for him died in her eyes.
"Forgive me child. If I could have done differently I would have, but there was no choice. You will go to Halbjorn in three week's time. He will send his Commander at Arms and a contingent of his army to bring you back to Upsala." The silence between them was deafening. It was almost a relief when he heard the door slam shut and looked up to realize that she had fled the room.
There was no place to hide. There was no place to run. No place to breathe. There was no place to escape the sorrow and fear that lanced through her. It felt as though the world had come crashing down on her. Saoirse walked aimlessly through the stone halls, her mind no longer attached to her body. For the first time in her life, the pain she felt caused her mind to seem to contract in on itself. She heard nothing, no thoughts from others, no emotions broadcasting so loudly that she had to try to block them out, nothing. She had no room, no ability, to perceive anything but her own distress.
Suddenly, without warning, she felt herself begin to laugh. The sound was ugly and anguished even to her own ears, and yet what else was there to do? Tears were useless, as was returning to Niall and begging him to release her from this arrangement. She remembered, bitterly, sitting at his feet only days ago, promising that if only he would return to her safely she and her people would deal with the consequences of the peace. She would ask for nothing more than his safe return. Her laughter grew louder, tinged with the hysteria that was bubbling up within her. How everything had changed in just those few days!
But what had she expected? Had she really thought that he would come back to her safely, the war would end without a single hardship, and…what then? He would let her marry Eric and live with him here? It was all uproariously comical now. Now she admitted to herself that, somewhere deep inside, this was exactly what she had hoped for, almost since the first night in the cottage, when Eric had taken her blood for the first time.
She supposed in some way she had brought this all on herself. She had, after all, entertained the ridiculous notion that she could find happiness with a Vampire. She had gone so far as to wish for it. She just hadn't thought to be specific, not really expecting the fates to have been listening to her.
Strong arms went around her from behind suddenly and Saoirse was startled to see Amena. She fell against her nursemaid now, unable to continue to support her weight unaided. The nurse pulled Saoirse to her, helping her walk as they made their way slowly back to her lady's rooms.
"There, there." Amena clucked softly. "All will be well." Saoirse wanted to scream at her that all would not be well, nothing would ever be well again, but she had no energy for it and she knew, even if she could rouse herself to it, the argument would be pointless. When they reached Saoirse's rooms, Amena helped her out of her dress and laid her gently on her bed.
"You know then?" Saoirse questioned. It was not even noon but she felt bone weary. Amena sat on the bed next to her, smoothing the hair at her forehead.
"Yes child. The Prince came here looking for you shortly after you left his apartments. When he did not find you he explained all to me." Saoirse nodded her head, the fear creeping up once again to displace her weariness.
"What am I to do?" She asked, her fear evident. Amena looked at her and her face turned hard. The hardness was not born of anger or of cruelty though, it was born of determination.
"Your duty." The nurse answered. Saoirse felt herself readying to protest, but Amena's thick finger fell over her mouth, silencing her. "I saw how you looked at Ceiridwyn when Coleman was here. You wished to have a mate of your own, to love and to bring your family honor by your marriage. You cannot have the first two my child, I am sorry for it, but it is true. However, you can bring honor to your family and to your people by this. You must. You will not be alone, I will be with you, and we will endure as we have to." The tears came then, violent like a gale off the water and they seemed to tear her apart. For a long time neither woman said anything, Amena continuing to stroke Saoirse's hair as she came to terms with the new path her life had taken. At length, the tears ran out and Saoirse simply lay on the bed. She was exhausted and her head ached from the tempest that had been her weeping, but nothing had changed. She was still herself; still harboring one enemy, growing ever more attached to him as the nights came and went, and now sold to another.
"Who is he?" Amena finally asked. Saoirse looked up at her startled, suddenly frightened again.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She answered tartly, turning her face into the pillow and away from Amena's searching gaze. But she knew that the older woman would not be put off. She should have known that her nurse would suspect something. Amena always saw to the heart of things; she had learned that years ago.
"Yes you do. You've escaped to your beach for years, but I've never seen you return from it as you have the last few mornings. Who is the boy?" Saoirse had no idea what to say. Amena might be wise and see things more clearly than others, but she knew her nurse would never be able to guess the truth. Who could?
"Who he is, is no longer important, is it? Nothing I want or desire has ever been important." Amena sat silently for a moment, looking down on the girl she had cared for since she had been brought to the castle as a frightened five year old.
"You have three weeks before Halbjorn's Commander at Arms comes. I will say no more about the beach for that time. Only look that you are careful no one else finds out." Saoirse looked up at her nurse, the disbelief evident on her face. Amena only stared back at her with that same determined expression on her face. "And don't do anything foolish, girl. Halbjorn will smell it if you do!"
.oO~*~Oo.
When the final rays of sun had been swallowed by darkness, he'd awoken. She was not there and, this night, Eric thought that best. He was still weak from the silver poisoning but Sookie's blood had healed him far faster than he could have imagined. It had only been five nights, but he was strong enough to hunt again.
He crept quietly from the beach to the village a few miles away and glamoured several of the humans there into allowing him to feed. He had promised Sookie that he would not kill anyone and, even though he could have drained the entire village in his hunger, Eric was as good as his word. He knew that he could do nothing to rouse suspicion. He could only hope that the Fairy guards who'd attacked him and his men had believed he'd died of his injuries or been too weak to shelter from the dawn and burned with the sun.
He knew that he had come very close to just that and, as he fed from the Humans, it was Sookie's face that was before him. The face of his savior. She had risked her life, whether she realized it or not, to help him and he would do nothing that would end in him being caught and killed or in her complicity being discovered.
As he made his way back to the cottage, he wondered for the millionth time why she had done it. Why had she saved him? She had told him very little of herself, except that she lived in the castle and had no living family. Still if she lived in the castle then she was a servant of the Prince and his family. Why had a servant of the Fae risked herself for him? Why had she given him her protection and her blood? They were questions he had no answers to.
Yet, if he was honest with himself, he cared very little. She had saved him. She had sheltered and protected him, fed and cared for him in a way that no one had in centuries, perhaps in his whole existence, Human or Vampire. He cared little for another truth that seemed to nag him constantly as well.
She had not just saved him or cared for him, she had changed him. She had awoken something in him, something he had no name for except humanity. He was no longer a fledgling, he could control his desires and his passions, yet they were always with him, those dark Vampiric yearnings for blood even until death, for violence and for cruelty whether he acted on them or not. But, with her, they seemed to recede into the background. Instead she roused in him desires that he had not felt in so long he barely understood them. In the five days he had known her, not once had he attempted to overpower her, to drain her dry of the blood so sweet and perfect that it rivaled even that of an actual Fairy. Not once, when he'd fed from her, had he taken, or even desired to take from her, pleasure that she had been unwilling to offer.
The memory of the night before came flooding back to him vividly. She had lain in his arms the whole night long and he had done nothing more than kiss her, feel her soft and warm and sweet against him, reveling in her nearness alone. And yet he desired her. He desired her as he had desired no other woman in the entirety of his life. Her sweet smiles and guileless eyes inflamed him, her intoxicating blood and softly curved body cried out to the most primal part of him. The sight of her by the light of the fire made every part of him, from his fangs to his cock, hard and aching with want. And yet, even when his strength had returned, he had barely touched her.
Even as Eric made his way back to the cottage, his every nerve was focused on sensing her, on containing the excitement of knowing that he would be with her shortly. He wanted her, he desired her, he wished to have every part of her for himself, and yet he knew that, when he returned the cottage, hoping that she would be there, he would not so much as touch her in any way she did not permit. He could not. With her he could take nothing that was not given freely. His desires for her were tempered by a deep, alien need to shelter and protect her as she had him. Again, he asked himself why?
The answer was there at the edge of his consciousness, but he balked away from it. Everything that he had learned in the last two hundred and seventy years told him that he was not capable of that emotion, even as he knew that there was only one name for it. And yet, what else could it be? Why else would act this way? It was true, even if he was not ready to admit it.
Still, he freely admitted that his mind had been filled with little else, for days now, but visions of taking her from this place, of bringing her home with him. If what Sookie had said was true and the war was over then he would go back and ask to be released from his vow of fealty. He would travel with Sookie back to his home and live there with her quietly. When his maker had released him, he had had not a thing to his name, but in the century and a half since then he had changed that. Sookie had nothing here: she had no family, she barely had the clothes on her back, it seemed to him. If she would agree to come with him, he would give her a life she could not even dream of. Anything and everything it was in his power to give would be hers, and in return he would make her his!