Dead and Damned
Chapter Twenty One: Slaves Ablaze
Disclaimer: I don't own the True Blood universe.
Sorry for any errors.
The sun did not set that long ago. It's the third night since the Future Godric appeared to us. Despite the fact that he has had ample opportunity, Eric has not spoken a single word about him to the wild beauty that is his Maker. I thought my little brother should have spoken about him the night we were running to Bastien's territory. That would have been the best time to do it. I understand he might not want to say how unhealthy and withdrawn Future Godric was, but he should at least tell his Maker about him appearing. The longer Eric goes without saying anything, the angrier Godric's going to be when he does eventually speak up. That's how I would react anyway. If the roles were reversed and it was Eadric keeping something this important from me, I'd be livid.
I suppose I could speak up and tell him, but he is Eric's maker not mine. I was only recently reaquainted with the "boy death" after a brief first meeting. I do not have the right to interfere with his and my little brother's bond. It is not my place. I have respected Eric decision to remain silent up until now, but that will only last so long. If he does not speak up soon I will have some words to say to Eric.
One day, Loki the trickster found himself in an especially mischievous mood and cut off the gorgeous golden hair of Sif, the wife of Thor. I mentally spoke to my Eadric as I washed his beautiful raven curls. Telling him the story of the creation of Thor's hammer, Mjollnir. When Thor learned of this, his quick temper was enraged, and he seized Loki and threatened to break every bone in his body. The water in this part of the river came up to my neck and it caressed us both soothingly. Eadric's long lashes brushed his cheekbones, his entire body was relaxed. He might be too old for me to tell him the stories of our gods while I bathe him. But he didn't seem to mind, I am glad he doesn't feel emasculated and enjoys moments like this as much as I do. Loki pleaded with the thunder god to let him go down to Svartalfheim, the cavernous home of the dwarves, and see if those master craftspeople could fashion a new head of hair for Sif, this one even more beautiful than the original. Thor allowed this, and off Loki went to Svartalfheim. I threaded my fingers through his thick hair and made sure my short nails scratched his scalp. There he was able to obtain what he desired. The sons of the dwarf Ivaldi forged not only a new head of hair for Sif, but also two other marvels: Skidbladnir, the best of all ships, which always has a favorable wind and can be folded up and put into one's pocket, and Gungnir, the deadliest of all spears. Eadric's tall body floated on the surface, long limbs bobbed and swayed in blue-green water. My feet dug into the slimy, rocky, uneven river floor as my hands moved down. My fingers glided up and down the muscles in the sides and back of his neck. My pressure was gentle but firm. Having accomplished his task, Loki was overcome by an urge to remain in the caves of the dwarves and revel in more recklessness. He approached the brothers Brokkr and Sindri and taunted them, saying that he was sure the brothers could never forge three new creations equal to those the sons of Ivaldi had fashioned. In fact, he even bet his head on their lack of ability. Brokkr and Sindri, however, accepted the wager.
I felt the presence of Godric and Eric long before the elder of the two spoke. "Vi måste avgå eller vi kommer för sent." (We must depart or we'll be late.)
He did not say it rudely or impatiently. His voice and the look on his handsome face told me he respected the moment between a Maker and her Child. If the bond is used correctly, like with Eadric and me or Godric and Eric, it is a sacred thing. Unfortunately not all Makers are like me, quite a few are like Leif. Godric might be wild and mischievous but there was more to his personality than that. He had a lot of layers and I would enjoy learning about all of them. One of them was how important being a Maker was. Godric does not regard it as some frivolous thing.
"Du fick till slut." (You did not get to finish.) Eadric murmured in his deep, smooth voice. He opened his grey eyes and got out of the river gracefully. Every inch of his 6 foot 6 frame was dripping wet.
I chuckled in response as I got out of the river as well. "Du talar som om du inte vet hur det slutar." (You speak as if you do not know how it ends.)
Eadric has the tale memorized, it is not a new one. Promise you'll finish tonight? Eadric requested. His voice in my head interrupted my thought process. Godric watched our interaction with intrigue. I am sure he overheard my confession to Eric about how we communicate.
"Jag lovar det." (I swear it.)
I did not undo my hair before getting into the river, so the top half was still in tight braids. Eadric and I dressed quickly before we all departed. When we reached Bastien's property one of his many guards led us to the room we were in the night before. You would think he was the King instead of a sheriff. I have come to learn that it wasn't unusual behavior, many sheriffs act like that.
The first thing I noticed was that the humans on the opposite half of the room were different than before, all of them were very healthy. They smelled marvelous and many of the men were eye-catching. His eldest child had good taste. I was very impressed with the selection available. Even the young virgin blood of the children was the best I have ever smelt.
"Jag trodde att du inte skulle kunna göra det." (I thought you were not going to be able to make it.) Bastien announced, his face lit up visibly when we entered. His excited gaze was locked on Godric and he stood up straighter.
"Fruktansvärt ledsen." (Dreadfully sorry.) My fake maker responded, a subtle expression of remorse on his face. I knew that it was only an act, but Bastien ate it up. "Vi hade inte för avsikt att du väntar." (We did not intend to keep you waiting.)
"Ursäkt accepterade. Är dina avkommor går bra i kväll? Jag vet att mina är uppsluppen?" (Apology accepted. Are your progenies doing well this evening? I know mine are in high spirits.)
Why does he not get on his knees, pleasure Godric to his heart's content and be done with it? Eadric's mocking voice entered my brain. I sent him a laugh back and replied, Very true. I'm sure Bastien would love nothing more than to do exactly that. He is utterly smitten.
After another moment of exchanging pleasantries Bastien called for his Children. In a blink of a human eye they were standing near their Maker. He waved a hand as he introduced them. The woman was the only one out of the two that appeared to be in "high spirits." There was an absentminded smile on her oval face and her yellow-green eyes were unfocused. Decima was wearing the finest of dresses and her small feet were bare. The man standing next to her looked like he was in a horrendous mood and would like nothing more than to be far away from this room. There was a scowl on Adalwin's delicate looking face and his thin arms were crossed. He was short, scrawny, and disheveled. His bone structure and body type made it seem like one stiff wind would break every bone in his body. They were an odd pair to be sure. If he was attractive then maybe I could have seen the appeal of his fragile features, but he was the very opposite of good-looking. I would not have intercourse with him to save my existence. That goes for his Maker too. And what his wrong with his female progeny? She does not seem all here mentally.
He has odd taste. Eadric told me, his thoughts in alignment with mine. The subtle look my little brother sent me told me he felt the same way. I couldn't help but wonder what Godric thought of them.
"Kärlek har bundit din små vingar, stänkte du med billig parfym, ställer du svimma i elden. Och med tanke på dig, i din törst, heta tårar att dricka." (Love has tied your little wings, sprinkled you with cheap perfume, set you fainting in the fire. And given you, in your thirst, hot tears to drink.) Decima's high pitched and breathy voice spoke up. It sounded like she was quoting poetry. I kept my face blank and didn't let the bemusement I felt show. She does not seem like her sanity is completely intact. Is she mentally ill?
"Naturligtvis kära." (Of course dear.) Bastien nodded, like she did not randomly quote a poem I have never heard and instead asked a question. Then he announced that he agreed wholeheartedly with Decima, he was anxious to get started as well.
She was telling him she was anxious to see the fire? How did he get that out of what she actually said? Eadric inquired, but I had no answer for him.
A few of Bastien's guards flanked us as we left the large house. I heard the sound of flames crackling and several terrified heartbeats before I saw or smelt anything but the deep forest. When the trees did give away to a clearing I saw that the humans from last night were bundled together. Their fear and the chill in the air caused all of them to tremble like a leaf in the wind. The sick and too thin adults were holding the half dead children, all of them were filthy and their clothes were in tatters. Despite the fact that they were no longer chained to the ground, none of them tried to escape. I wondered whether that was because they knew it would get them nowhere, or if they were under the influence of glamour.
The red-orange flames danced merrily to my right. The fact that they were resting deep in the earth did not dim their burning glow. The guards dispersed and spread out around the tree line, making sure nobody got in the clearing or out of it without Bastien's permission. The night demon male that was already here before we arrived tossed more wood into the pit and the greedy flames that rested within it.
"Låt oss komma igång ska vi?" (Let us get started shall we?) Bastien asked rhetorically, snapping his fingers once. The broad shouldered male feeding the flames nodded obediently. In a single second he made his way over to the humans, grabbed two, and tossed them into the burning pit. Their screams of agony immediately caused the remaining human adults to beg for their lives. But I could see in their dead eyes that they knew their begging wouldn't do them any good. The children were mostly unconscious, so the only noise coming from them was their heartbeat. Tear tracks stained their dirty faces.
Godric inhaled deeply through is nose beside me. My gaze shifted to him at the sound and I drank him in. His muscular form looked even more handsome bathed in firelight. He deliberately sniffed the air again and his full lips quirked up into a crooked grin. His eyes were aglow with dark delight as he watched the human's burn alive. I did not mind the sickly sweet yet putrid scent of the burning flesh and muscles. Yet I did not find it as lovely as Godric obviously did. I saw another human get tossed into the flames in my peripheral vision, this time it was a babe.
"Åtnjuter denna, är vi?" (Enjoying this, are we?) I murmured to beauty next to me.
"Väldigt mycket." (Very much.) Godric whispered back. He turned his head in my direction but his eyes stayed locked on the flames that were devouring human bodies. "Synen är en vacker en, inte sant?" (The sight is a beautiful one, do you not agree?)
I have always thought fires were breathtakingly beautiful. While searing human flesh isn't something I would describe as beautiful per say, I do enjoy human pain and fear. Especially if I am in the right mood, it makes the blood better. It adds a certain spice that I very much enjoy.
Bastien spoke up before I could say anything in response to his query. "Jag håller helt, pojke död. Jag tycker alltid att få koppla av och njuta av denna uppfattning. Vad om du Decima min älskling?" (I agree completely, boy death. I always enjoy getting to relax and enjoy this view. What about you Decima, my darling?)
Another poem came pouring out in that breathy voice of hers, this time in Greek. "Φωτεινό πέρα αφήγηση μου. Στη χάρη σου εσύ λάμψει. Όπως και κάποια νύμφη θεία." (Bright beyond my telling. In thy grace thou shinest. Like some nymph divinest.)
I suppose that was meant to be a yes? Eadric's voice was tinted with a bemused laugh. I suppose so, I tell him back. It was a pleasant poem. It wouldn't make sense for that to mean she was having a dreadful time. Of course the fact that she replies in poems did not make sense. I honestly want to know what was wrong with her brain.
"Adalwin?" Bastien inquired next. The male in question waved a dismissive hand and rolled his eyes. His expression was still one of annoyance.
How long are we going to have to be here? This time his voice sounded disturbed. While my progeny has taken to this life like a fish to water, he is still young enough to have moments like this. The longer time goes on the less they will happen, his endurance level will continue to get higher until he no longer cares for humans or what happens to them at all. I've killed and hurt my share of humans sure, but burning them like this is awful. Surely there is a better way. How do you stand the smell? I wanted to laugh, and here I was worried he was feeling pity or empathy for them. All he was worried about was the smell? That's my boy.
Eadric has not been around a burning human since being turned. The last time he was around one it was at a funeral in his human life. In the year we have been together Eadric and I have buried the bodies we killed. I was very proud that Eadric rarely cares humans at all now. It was good he didn't care about such fragile and mortal beings. You can't survive centuries if you care about every pitiful and pathetic human that comes along. Caring leaves you vulnerable, I have been teaching Eadric that.
Our kind must harden our hearts against those soft emotions. Only give your heart on rare occasions, like to your Aunt/Maker or your father for instance. I encourage him to care for us. Apparently in the future I didn't listen to myself and I cared for an unworthy human. Then I turned him and he ended up betraying me, causing my true death. I can promise you that won't happen this time around.
The hardest thing for me to harden my heart against had been mortal children. So I started imagining all children were Leif, which helped when I started feeling too soft. Eventually I didn't bother doing that anymore because finally my emotions cooperated with me. Unfortunately I overcorrected. All I wanted was to feel indifferent toward them so every time Leif made me kill one, my heart stopped feeling heavy with guilt and horror. Now children disgust me, I hate them. Oh well, there's nothing we can do about my overcorrection now.
It has only been a single year for my progeny. He might not care for adults or the elderly, but I am sure that children suffering is not something he has stopped caring about. I know my Eadric. I am sure the only reason he is not telling me it's something that still bothers him is because he does not wish to disappoint me. He needn't worry, I know it will take time.
"Vill du kasta en i?" (Would you like to throw one in?) Bastien asked Godric.
After agreeing Godric turned to me. "Vilket skulle du föredra att se bränna, min underbara?" (Which one would you prefer to see burn, my lovely?)
I was not expecting him to ask my opinion but I already knew which one I very much wanted to see burn.
"Honom." (Him.) I reply, pointing to the boy who appeared to be around the age Leif was when he was turned.
"Så du vill det, så skall det vara." (So you wish it, so it shall be.) Godric bowed low and winked up me. Then in the next instant he was grabbing the boy while ignoring the protests of the woman who was holding him. He grinned at me with fangs extended, winked at me again, and then tossed the boy in the flames.
Will you continue the story now? Eadric requested, his mental voice was a little disgruntled. So to distract him from the child being tortured, I continued the story of the creation of Thor's hammer. But first I told him soothingly, Children suffering will not always haunt you so. I promise you will outgrow it.
As they worked, a fly (who, of course, was none other than Loki in disguise) stung Sindri's hand. When the dwarf pulled his creation out of the fire, it was a living boar with golden hair. This was Gullinbursti, who gave off light in the dark and could run better than any horse, even through water or air.
"Jag hade en tidigare engagemang att jag nu kommer för sent till." (I had a previous engagement that I will now be late for.) Adalwin spoke up for the first time. "Måste jag vara här varje gang? Du gör detta så ofta." (Must I be here every time? You do this so often.)
"Adalwin." Bastien chastised, displeased his Child was being disrespectful in front of company. I guess he pushed his Maker a smidge too far.
I did not stop my mental story telling. Sindri then set another piece of gold on the fire as Brokkr worked the bellows. The fly bit Brokkr on the neck, and Sindri drew out a magnificent ring, Draupnir. From this ring, every ninth night, fall eight new golden rings of equal weight.
"Jag menade ingen respekt. Visst kan du förstå min vrede?" (I meant no disrespect. Surely you can understand my ire?)
Sindri then put iron on the hearth, and told Brokkr that, for this next working, they must be especially meticulous, for a mistake would be more costly than with the previous two projects. Loki immediately stung Brokkr's eyelid, and the blood blocked the dwarf's eye, preventing him from properly seeing his work.
"Vi kommer inte att vara här mycket längre." (We will not be here much longer.) Bastien replied in a flat tone.
Sindri produced a hammer of unsurpassed quality, which never missed its mark and would boomerang back to its owner after being thrown, but it had one flaw: the handle was short. Sindri lamented that this had almost ruined the piece, which was called Mjollnir. Nevertheless, sure of the great worth of their three treasures, Sindri and Brokkr made their way to Asgard to claim the wages that were due to them.
"Kan min Eric kasta nästa?" (Can my Eric throw the next one?) Godric asked. I glanced at my little brother at his words.
Bastien waved Eric forward. "Naturligtvis han kan." (Of course he can.)
"Du är för snäll." (You are too kind.) Eric sent the sheriff a smile full of charm. Seems like my little brother learned his lesson from the night before.
There were only three humans left. Eric chose an elderly female. He lifted her frail body into his strong arms and walked toward the dancing fire. You could see the bones that refused to burn resting deep in the pit. As soon as the elderly woman was in the fire, the other two were tossed in as well. Eric nodded at the broad-shouldered male behind him and then he was standing near Eadric once more. Thick black smoke swirled up into the night sky. The stars were bright above us.
Loki made it to the halls of the gods before the dwarves and presented the marvels he had acquired. To Thor he gave Sif's new hair and the hammer Mjollnir. To Odin went the ring Draupnir and the spear Gungnir. And Freyr was the happy recipient of Skidbladnir and Gullinbursti.
As soon as the last of the humans were dead, we headed back to the sheriffs house. One night demon stayed behind to put out the flames and clean the area. When we got back to Bastien's large house, someone was anxiously waiting for him there. An average looking male with a large belly informed Bastien that he had a visitor. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot as he spoke, a very human gesture. A second later a thinner male step outside. He was dressed in gold and silk. I saw a wall go up behind Bastien's eyes at the man's presence. It was similar to how he looked at us before he realized who Godric was, only more hostile.
A fake smile flickered across Bastien's thin lips. "Hälsningar. Hur kan jag stå till tjänst?" (Greetings. How may I be of service?)
"Jag har nyheter från drottningen. Kanske bör vi tala privat." (I have news from the Queen. Perhaps we should speak privately.) His body language and strong voice told us he demanded respect.
I did not realize this territory had a Queen instead of a King. Good information to know. Who is she though I wonder? The fake smile disappeared and a sneer took its place. A curious reaction. What news could Bastien be expecting?
"Kanske vi borde." (Perhaps we should.) He agreed stiffly before dismissing all of us, his children included. The beautiful, but strange, Decima recited another poem before departing. Adalwin did not say a goodbye before vanishing into the night. Lastly, Godric promised the sheriff we would return at a later time before we left as well. On our journey back to the river, I finished the story just like I swore I would.
As grateful as the gods were to receive these gifts – especially Mjollnir, which they foresaw would be of inestimable help in their battles against the giants – they nevertheless concluded that Loki still owed the dwarves his head. When the dwarves approached Loki with knives, the cunning god pointed out that he had promised them his head, but not his neck. Brokkr and Sindri contented themselves with sewing Loki's mouth shut, and returned to their forge.
"Jag tror att du har något du behöver tala om för honom." (I think you have something you need to tell him.) I mouthed to my brother after I finished, giving the ancient ahead of us a look. Eric sent me a scowl back. We sent each other glares back and forth the rest of the journey. Neither one of us wanting to budge. My little brother was so focused on scowling and shaking his head no at me, it he nearly caused him to run into a tree. It was delightful, but my smug amusement only made his sour expression deepen.
"Du gjorde mycket bra i kväll Eric." (You did very well tonight Eric.) Godric said when we arrived at the river, breaking the silence. As soon as he turned to face us, Eric and I smoothed out our expressions.
"Men jag då? Gjorde jag inte bra i kväll?" (What about me? Did I not do well tonight?) Eadric pouted playfully and bounced on his toes. He widened his vivid grey eyes in exaggerated hopefulness. I knew he was mocking Bastien's urge to please Godric. I chuckled at my Progeny's antics.
"Naturligtvis du gjorde kära." (Of course you did dear.) Godric purred back patronizingly with amused grey-blue eyes.
I giggled when Eadric flung himself at Godric's feet and, to my surprise, placed a kiss right on his crotch. Reminding me of the comment he made earlier about the smitten sheriff. I adored seeing my child in such high spirits.
"Jag var så orolig att du inte skulle göra det." (I was so worried you would not make it!) Eadric mocked in a high pitched voice, batting long lashes up at him. A grin stretched across his full lips as Godric caught on.
"Bastien har tagit ganska glans till mig. Det är mycket praktiskt, nej?" (Bastien has taken quite the shine to me, hasn't he? It's very convenient, no?) Godric snickered.
"Det gör allting mycket enklare." (It does make everything a lot easier.) Eadric agreed. Then he stood back up and took a few long strides backwards.
I glanced at Eric casually. It looked like I was simply asking his opinion on the matter. When in reality I was telling him to speak up about Future Godric's visit. His stubborn refusal is starting to get annoying. You'd think he would want his Maker to know something so important. You would think it would be the first thing he'd talk about when Godric came back from where ever he went, but no. Three nights later and still nothing.