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A Sookie/Eric/Godric fic.
Chapter Eleven.
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Disclaimer: See Ch. 1.
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A/N: ANNOUNCEMENT: I WILL BE CHANGING MY USERNAME ON Friday, June 24th. I WILL INCLUDE THIS ANNOUNCEMENT ON MY PAGE, AS WELL AS IN MY FUTURE UPDATES, SO THERE'S NO CONFUSION. MY NEW NAME WILL BE "Copper's Mama". Thank you for your patience.
Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, you guys are awesome!
I won't be writing the story in any other points of view - this story will strictly be from Sookie's perspective; sorry for those who want to see Godric's or Eric's POV in this story. However, I am planning on writing a version of this story from Eric's perspective, but that will be after I finish this one.
Sookie does some exploring in this chapter, of both the house and her powers.
I'm excited to say that I finally ordered HBO today, so I'll be able to watch the new season on TV - less than a week away! I'm so excited! Can't wait to hear Eric say 'Sookie is mine'!
Big thanks to Caaro for doing the Norwegian translations for me!
I hope you guys like this one, I know I'll love writing it.
As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!
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I'd woken up from my dream at about three o'clock in the afternoon, feeling more rested than before, and even more confused. I knew it would be a few hours before Eric and Godric woke from their slumber, so I decided to do a little exploring.
I made my way back down the stairs, easily finding the sitting room we'd been in before. The tray of food was still sitting on the floor by the couch, waiting to be picked up. I figured I could at least take it back to the kitchen, since Godric had gone to the trouble of getting it for me.
The fruit was warm, and a little soft, and the bread was crunchy, but other than that, it was all still edible. My stomach was growling in protest. I hadn't eaten much since getting back from Dallas. Ginger's words rang in my mind, about it being easy to forget to eat around vampires. I quite liked my body the way it is, and didn't want to become all scrawny and lifeless 'cause I didn't get my three meals a day.
The kitchen ended up being near the back of the house. Even though it was rarely used, I could tell that it was still well taken care of, just like the rest of the house. Godric must pay his human employees a fortune to look after his affairs while he's away.
I packaged up what was salvageable from the tray, and threw the rest in the garbage, looking through the cupboards for something a little more filling. Most of the food was microwavable, which made me realize that whoever cleaned the house probably didn't relish the idea of remaining within it too long ... at least, not enough to want to cook a proper meal while there.
I tossed a box of instant pasta into the microwave, and pulled a glass out of another cupboard to get a drink of water.
It didn't take me long to eat my "breakfast", with no one else there to talk to. I had everything cleaned and put away, and I hadn't even been in there for fifteen minutes.
Back home, I'd always had something to keep me busy during the day. Work, friends, housekeeping, dealing with my brother, reading ... I hadn't brought any books with me, I wasn't exactly feeling friendly towards the citizens of Bon Temps right then, and I'd already cleaned what little mess I'd made in the impressive home. I hated to admit it, but without Eric or Godric around and awake, I was bored.
I decided to explore the rest of the house, since I had so much time on my hands. I found a bathroom and a storage room near the kitchen, and a room similar to the sitting room we'd been in last night. There was a basement, but I didn't feel comfortable checking it out alone just then. Instead, I made my way back up to the second floor. I passed by my room, already knowing what was in there. Instead, I walked to the room right across from mine, and placed my hand on the handle. I poked my head in carefully, not wanting to let any light spill into the room if there was a vampire sleeping within. The walls were built in a way that barely a speck of sunshine made it up the stairs and into the hall, but I wanted to be safe.
That room was empty of vampire life, and looked quite similar to the room I was staying in. After finding nothing too interesting within it, I closed the door and moved along.
The next room was not so lifeless ... in a manner of speaking. There were no warm, breathing bodies within, but Eric and Godric lay together on the bed in the middle of the room.
I closed the door quickly behind me, while still trying to close it softly. I'd never woken a sleeping vampire with my presence, and wasn't too keen to find out what would happen if I did. With the door closed, and no light from the hall seeping in, the room was completely dark. Definitely light-tight. I'd seen a light switch by the door, and carefully flicked it on.
Neither one of the vampires so much as flinched, so deep was their slumber.
I took a few cautious steps into the room, taking in my fill of Eric and Godric. They were covered up to their waists with a thin, dark-blue sheet, and their top halves were naked. I had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of their bodies were unclothed as well. They had fallen asleep facing on another, like they'd done at the hotel, only this time there wasn't a "Sookie" in between to make it a sandwich. Godric's hand was slid underneath Eric's neck, and Eric's was under Godric's. Their other hands were clasped together between them, thumbs locked around each other in a masculine sort of way, but still sweet. I found myself wondering how many nights they'd spent like this over the years. I never thought of Eric as gay ... but then, I couldn't exactly read anything homosexual into their interaction, either. Their relationship superseded sexual drives or societal taboos. It was beautiful.
I felt almost wicked, staring at them like this when they couldn't stop me, or even see me. I had a fleeting curiosity of whether Eric would sense my presence or not.
I was only in the room for maybe twenty minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I mused over the thought that I could watch them sleep for hours and be quite content. Something was changing in me, something strange, and wonderful, and uncontrollable ... it was a rush, and I didn't know whether to fight it, or embrace it.
Choosing the safer path for now, I quietly backed out of the room, closing the door behind me.
There was another bathroom on this level, but it was monumentally more glorious than the downstairs one. For starters, the marble floor almost sparkled with its cleanliness. While the other bathroom was cleaned regularly, this one was downright worshipped. The sink and other fixtures were made of a metal that gleamed like gold, and I didn't doubt for a second that they were. Godric had expensive tastes, and two thousand years had gifted him with the means to cater to those tastes. There was a row of large, black towels hanging on a rack on the opposite side of the room, but I only had eyes for the tub in the center of the room. It was enormous. It was a lover's tub, I realized, able to sit two more than comfortably, even three if one were creative enough.
I blushed immediately at the thought, my mind drifting to my two slumbering vampires.
If I'd been in a clearer mindset, I would have wondered when I'd started to think of them as 'my vampires'. Instead, I left the door ajar, planning to return to the room in a little bit. A hot bath would feel glorious, but I wasn't done exploring.
The room across from the bathroom held clothing, and lots of it. The garments dated back centuries, millennia even, and there were far too many interesting items to go through in the short time I had before Godric and Eric woke. I had a feel of some of the older clothing, my fingers trailing through the fur, rubbing against the leather. I tried to picture Godric wearing them, but all the scenes that I could imagine seemed to ridiculous. To me, he looked more at home in a simple pair of white pants and shirt.
The last room in the hall was my favorite, next to the bathroom - which was still beckoning me. I'd collected a fair number of books over the years, but my meager collection didn't come close to comparing to the library that I found when I opened the door.
Every inch of wall space was lined with large, sturdy bookshelves. The stacks went all the way up to the ceiling, leaving only inches of space in between. There were shelves on either side of the door, and I noticed in surprise that this was one room in the house that was not light-tight. There was a window on the opposite side of the room with thin, beige curtains in front of it, allowing a small amount of light to seep into the room. I felt a warmth as soon as I crossed the threshold into the room, and it made me smile.
An irrational part of my brain was pleased that Godric hadn't altered this room in the house ... it still had human touches.
I didn't know where to begin. I doubted that Godric would mind if I looked at the books in the room; he hadn't forbidden me access to any room in the house. Quite the opposite, really. He'd told me to make myself at home, even though we were planning to leave at sundown.
Still, I made a mental promise not to disturb any of the rare-looking books, not wanting to chance wrecking them with my oily fingers. The thought made me subconsciously rub my hands on my pajama bottoms.
There was a table in the center of the room, with a writing lamp on top of it. A quartet of chairs were placed around the table, and there were two more comfy looking chairs by the window.
As I began wandering about the room, soaking in the titles, I wondered how many houses Godric owned. Were they all like this one? Were there bigger ones, more spectacular ones? Or were they like Godric's home in Shreveport - simple enough to suit his purposes? I'd never thought of Godric as flashy or big-minded, but I also hadn't known him that long. Perhaps in his mind, bigger was better.
I flushed at the thought, even though I hadn't spoken it aloud, and there was no one around to hear me if I had.
I didn't know how long I'd been in the library, but eventually I found a title that I couldn't resist. I had a chuckle when I pulled it from the shelf, and relished its weight in my hands. It was a first edition, I knew just by looking it. In mint condition, though I could almost feel the hours that Godric had spent pouring through the pages. Published in 1897, its years were not betrayed by its appearance. Bram Stoker's Dracula, one of my secret pleasures after vampires of the world had "come out of the coffin". I'd read it several times, though never from a copy quite as treasured as this.
I almost put it back on the shelf then, not wanting to risk damaging it, but its lure was too strong, and I held it more firmly in my hands.
I submitted to yet another one of my guilty pleasures, retreating back to the bathroom with the book in my hands. First I set the book on the counter by the sink, wrapping it in a towel so as not to get any water on it. I perused the bathroom for soap and shampoo, finding what I needed in a closet by the sink. There wasn't any bubble bath, which slightly saddened me, but beggar's can't be choosers.
I filled the large bath half-full of water before stripping out of my pajamas and sinking into it. I planned on soaking later, but I wanted to drain and refill the tub first. There were few things less appealing than soaking in your own bodily sludge for an extended period of time.
The shampoo was unscented, but did its job of cleaning my hair. After flying through the night air with Eric, and then sleeping on it in a strange bed, my hair had gotten both bigger and greasier than it had when we'd left. It felt nice to pamper myself a bit.
I lathered and soaked my hair, and then groped for the lufa that hung on the side of the tub. I scrubbed and rubbed my body clean, then stepped out of the tub to let it drain. I wrapped myself in one of the black towels from the rack and returned to the sink, wiping away the condensation from the mirror. After flicking on the fan, I took a good, long look at myself. Maybe it was the setting, or just my own bias, but I looked different. I felt different. The addition of vampires into my life had changed me. I was no longer the innocent "Crazy Sookie" that the townspeople of Bon Temps so lovingly called me. Though it had been less than three months since I'd met Bill, I looked so much older. Scarred, maybe. Hardened ... definitely.
With a sigh, I realized that not all of my hardness could be attributed to the vampires in my life. I'd been broken long before that - thanks to Uncle Bartlett - and separated even before then, thanks to my telepathic abilities. Fairy abilities, I corrected myself immediately.
An array of images and memories flooded my mind then, and for the first time, I found a common bond between Uncle Bartlett and Bill Compton. Both had violated me - both my trust, and my physical body. Uncle Bartlett had only ever raped my mind, his wandering hands and body never getting very far, but Bill had done so much worse. By manipulating me into trusting him ... into loving him, he'd violated my body in ways I couldn't even begin to comprehend.
The memories of our lovemaking sessions that I had once cherished flashed over and over in my mind, hitting me like a ton of bricks repeatedly. I lurched forward, gripping the edge of the counter so hard the my knuckles whitened. My teeth gritted at the painful memories, and I nearly screamed. I would have, too, but I was exerting too much pressure on my locked teeth. Instead of a scream, what came out was a high-pitched, shrieking moan of agony and fury. I could feel saliva shoot through my teeth and hit my hands below, but I didn't care.
My body began to heat up, and then I was blinded by a bright light, sharp enough that I had to squint and look away. My body heaved with every breath that I took, and my towel slid to the floor, unnoticed.
I don't recall taking my hands off the counter, but I must have. The next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of the space between the sink and the tub, shaking, while the light within me throbbed ... on and off, like a light switch, or a heartbeat.
My shock superseded my anger, and the light dimmed until there was nothing left. I stood alone in the middle of the room, staring down at my naked body. It had happened again, but this time neither I nor anyone else was in immediate danger. Interesting.
I was struck with an idea, and decided to put it to the test. I thought again about everything that had been done to me in the past few months, pouring over every painful and hurtful memory. I closed my eyes and allowed the emotions to pour over me, clenching my teeth together. Before long, I felt a rush of heat run through, and when I squinted my eyes open I saw my reflection in the mirror. The glare was powerful, but my eyes adjusted, allowing me to see what I'd created. The light had a bit of orange mixed in with it, though it was subtle. On the rooftop, my body had been exuding a light that was pure white ... holy.
My mind raced with all the possibilities. My powers seemed to have different functions depending on the situation, and the light within me responded accordingly. When I was angered or infuriated, I emanated an almost orange hue. When I was using my power to protect, it was a bright, harsh white. I found myself desperate to find out everything I could about fairies, and their powers.
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I don't know how much time I spent practicing with my powers, making my internal light switch turn on and off, but by the time I sank back into the tub, I was exhausted. The hot water felt glorious against my skin, and for a while I just laid back in the water, allowing my aching muscles a much-needed rest.
I almost fell asleep in the tub a couple of times, and finally sat up to forestall drowning. I'd brought over the book from the sink before I got into the tub, so I pulled it out then and opened to the first page.
I smiled softly, remembering all the hours and days I'd spent immersed in the same story. I'd always likened Lucy to my brother Jason, who had more "suitors" than he could handle, and always found himself getting into trouble because of it.
Everyone always expects good girls like me to root for Jonathan Harker and Mina, and their love story, but I never had. I'd always been drawn to a different romance in the story. A slightly darker one.
"Du forstår ikke hvor vanskelig det er å ikke bare gripe deg og gjøre deg min."
I shrieked at the sudden noise, throwing my hands into the air. My body jolted in the water as I looked to the now open doorway and saw Eric standing there. My hands immediately returned to my body to cover the flesh that was peeking above the water, and in my haste, I dropped the book. Godric's precious, first-edition, mint-condition, glorious book began a slow plummet towards the water, and I was powerless to stop it.
In a blur, Eric was at the edge of the tub, his hand shot forward to catch the book flat in his palm.
With my hands crossed over my heaving chest, my eyes flickered back and forth between Eric and the book. Small waves of water were splashing over my skin, the peaceful bath disturbed by my panic.
Eric made a show of looking over my entire body in the tub, and I found myself wishing I'd made bubble bath out of soap and shampoo. Anything to escape from his heated gaze.
"Is there room in there for another?" he asked me, that ever-cocky grin on his face.
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End of chapter eleven.
Well, what did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it?
Eric's Norwegian phrase means: "You have no notion of how hard it is not to grab you and make you mine."
Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.
Until next time ...!