Chapter 36

"That was entertaining," Dermot said with a look of supreme enjoyment.

If the faery busted out popcorn and a soft drink, Sookie wouldn't have been shocked. The urge to engage him, to unleash all of her issues upon him, was much too tempting. She decided to ignore him instead.

"We will be going," Fintan said. "If you need me, call."

"No! This is going to be best part!" Dermot protested. "She has been caught philandering! We do not know who she will choose!"
"Of course she will choose her mate." Fintan defended.

"Look at him." Dermot countered. "He looks ready to fight her and we can watch, Finny!"

Sookie snarled at him, and Fintan glared. Dermot sighed despondently, much like a kid who had been deprived of his favorite thing. Reluctantly, he vanished with his brother. That gave her a few moments of silence to think of a way to salvage this. She just needed to get Eric to listen to her. Pissed off as he was, she knew it would be harder for him to want to believe, never mind listen.

Slowly, the Queen followed after Eric. He was in his bedroom. It wasn't the out of world one the faeries had created, the one where she had awakened. This was a part of the stylish, loft-style apartment. It was so Eric. She was looking around when he emerged from the walk-in closet in running gear.

It was completely inappropriate, but lust was the first emotion she registered as she drank him in. It left her brain addled for a moment, but then he looked through her as if she wasn't there, she knew how much damage had been done.

"I fucked up, Eric, bad. I know you're angry and you have every right to be."

He shot her a look that would normally precede bodily harm when he had been a vampire, "I didn't need your permission, but thanks all the same."

Eric grabbed his keys and she knew he was ready to go. She blocked his path, moving as fast as her body could manage. It wasn't much. In fact, in that short distance she overexerted her still healing body. When she stopped moving, her head spun, and she nearly crashed into Eric. He caught her effortlessly, steadying her.

"That was just not smart," he commented, easing her on the bed.

"Agreed."

He didn't smile. He still looked at her as if she was a stranger, a stranger who had hurt and betrayed him.

"Eric, it really isn't what you think. I can explain."

He nodded, "Okay, explain."

He left her on the bed and stood against the wall with his hands folded across his chest, waiting. That rendered her speechless for a few beats.

She blinked dumbly at him, "Really?"

He nodded, but she could feel his patience thinning and his icy cool failing.

"Okay, but it's going to sound crazy, like completely out of this world-"

"Oh, Sweetheart, it had better," he inserted coldly.

"Just promise to listen to all of it, please."

Something changed on his face. He must have been thinking that she would lie, but her last caveat seemed to give him pause. He didn't give her an acerbic retort. He nodded wordlessly again. It offered Sookie a little comfort and strength while she recounted their long and painful past, the sweeter memories since their reunion, and the details of his reincarnation. All throughout his expression barely changed.

"So me being your supposed 'soul mate' that transcended death to be with you again made you think it was alright to string both of us along?"

Eric didn't believe her. Sookie knew it by the question he asked and his tone. He wasn't asking about his previous life as a vampire. He was still very much pissed about her being with Grayson.

"Look," Sookie argued. "I know you don't believe me—"

"I don't, and if you're finished, then so are we."

"No!" Sookie called. She was on her feet again and she didn't sway, but it wasn't a smooth move either. "I can prove it."

"You are going to prove to me that I am a reincarnated thousand-year-old Viking vampire sheriff to whom you were married. You are going to prove to me that Free was an evil witch and a vampire queen who stole me away from you. Then, you're going to prove to me how you being with Grayson while we were together doesn't make you a lying shit."

"Yes," She told him firmly. "Well, I can prove all of it except the last thing...it's true."

He threw a look that was beyond murderous her way, and it had her rushing to explain, "I held onto him out of fear. Nothing happened, ever!"

Eric stared at her and whether or not he believed her, she didn't know. Since he was still there, she took the opportunity to prove what she could.

Sookie summoned her biological father. He appeared with his twin, and Dermot looked terribly sad that the drama was over. She wondered absentmindedly whether he watched enough television or if he watched too much. That was an issue for later. All she wanted was for them to ferry Eric and her back to her main palace in Oklahoma.

"Do you wish for me to go, my love?" Fintan asked her.

"No." she replied. "He might not want to stay after what he sees."

Sookie walked through her castle and into her no-longer destroyed suite. The panic room had felt like a containment barrier during the time the Queen had been lost. Today, she finally opened the door into the room that served as a portal into her past. She never understood why, even in her robotic and hollow state, she had kept these things. She was now relieved that she had. In this moment, it was as if she was looking at them for the first time. There was a memory that held smiles, love, and happiness attached to every item in the little room.

"This is mine," Eric said.

His voice was a whisper, but it was certain, even though his expression was confused. He had been following her wordlessly, probably expecting more lies. As he gazed at a portrait that was dated thirty years in the past, Sookie knew that Eric could no longer deny it, not when he was faced with something as intimate and personal to the vampire he had been. This was something that she knew he held more dear than the ring he had given her.

The piece in question was the one he had painted of her as she had slept the night he asked her to marry him, the night both of them decided to stop running from their heart's desires. Eric had depicted that moment as if he knew he would need to remember one day. She was sprawled in bed.

To be honest, Sookie had never appreciated the artistry before. Looking at it now with all that she knew, she understood just how much he loved her. He didn't just love her when he was a vampire. She had also been more than his mate. She was the woman he had worshipped.

Nudity, seduction, and sensuality were evident in the way Sookie's past self was displayed. Every arc and dip of her upper body screamed her sensuality. She looked like every bit the satisfied woman she had been that night. Her hair and the sheets were mussed from sleep and a night of lovemaking. Yet somehow, she knew it made her more appealing. The sheets were tangled, but she looked somewhat fretful.

Sookie recalled that night with so much joy and so much ease. It wasn't a nightmare that left her restless. It was the absence of Eric in the bed. Soft brush strokes and the enigmatic mix of colors captured it all. For every part of Sookie Eric had captured that night, she had the feel, scent, and sound to go with them. They were forever ingrained in every fiber of her being.

In the portrait, Sookie's head was resting on her left arm, but her right seemed to be searching for something, for her mate. The painting evolved from just one sketch of her. It captured the emptiness on Eric's side of the bed and included the window. The light of the fading of the moon explained his absence. It threw the most titillating shadows over her back and across the sheets that covered the rest of her body. Sookie continued to gaze at the painting, trying to bury all the emotions it brought to the surface. Eric was close enough to touch the canvas, his canvas, but he didn't.

"I have seen this, this exact image in my mind, I dreamed of it, and even tried to replicate it, but..." Eric murmured. "I know every freelance portrait I have ever finished, but this isn't one of them. Where did you get it?"

By his confusion and awe, she knew that he was finally starting to see. He might not believe the entire tale, but he knew art and no matter what else he wanted to refute, he couldn't fight the proof.

"You painted that over thirty years ago, the night you asked me to marry you."

Eric said nothing as he caressed the painting in the faintest of touches, "How?"

"I was telling you the truth," Sookie replied. "We have so much history, but this is all that I have of our past."

Eric said nothing, but it was as if she could practically see it coming together in his head. Sookie hung back and watched as he touched so many things in this most sacred of places. There was his favorite green t-shirt. She had kept all of his sketch books. He spent hours glimpsing it. He scrutinized every sketch and their every detail, carefully running his finger over every line. She watched along with him.

Eric had reached the end of the book. Then he moved on to a dresser where her ring sat. It had been untouched since she'd placed it there. Through the dust that covered it, the diamond still glistened under the bright lights. Eric picked up the thing that was a symbol of his marriage proposal. She had never asked him what had made him choose that exact cut and design.

It was old world in its filigree diamond-encrusted band and the large princess cut diamond. It had felt so right, even when she felt like it had been too much. Eric held the ring and spun it round and round on the tip of his index finger. It was as if he was testing the weight of the ring. When it seemed to have passed some test, he fisted it in his hand.

"What happened after the divorce? How did I die?" He asked. "All you said was that my Maker made me do it."

That single moment would haunt her forever; she knew it by the amount of pain it brought to the surface. It wasn't just pain, she was so ashamed and felt so guilty. She couldn't look at him anymore.

"It was my fault."

It was the first time that she was saying this out loud and the words felt like poison burning her tongue. Tears threatened to fall, but she forced them back. Eric had always hated to see her cry. She didn't want her tears to be the reason why he chose to stay.

"That can't be true. Makers own their creations. There was nothing-"

The Queen shook her head, and then she could no longer keep her tears unshed. Of all the emotions that had been running rampant because of their newness, grief was the strongest and there was so much of it left. It hit her like it had in that split second before part of her soul had been lost. She fell apart.

"It was my fault. You had your own plan to get back to me, to get rid of him. You begged me to do one thing, the one thing I swore to do as your wife and I didn't. I didn't trust you. My pride didn't let me; my pain didn't let me. In the end you paid for it-"

Her sobs quickly made talking impossible. She buried her face in her knees as the hollowness and the grief collided in her. It was as if both would destroy her as they fought for dominance. Eric left her to it. Cas had been right. Eric was probably going to leave and she couldn't find it in herself to blame him. Even if he didn't recall every detail, the little that she had told him would be enough. He couldn't stay even if he wanted. Sookie hadn't just led to his end in that life, she had condemned him to a childhood of misery in this one.

Sookie didn't see Eric move. She heard his footsteps as he no doubt made way for the door. He didn't. He slid down beside her. She peeked at him through the curtain her hair created. He had taken a similar position as her. Then he took her left hand were it lay, wrapped around her legs. It wasn't in comfort. She looked up because she didn't know what he was doing.

Eric slid the ring back on her finger just as he'd done over three decades ago, "I love that you love me and I love you, too."

"You remember?" She asked in disbelief. That had to be only explanation. He had said those words verbatim.

"Yes, Lover. I remember."

The Queen was lying in bed with Eric and it was hours later. They had spent every minute of it talking. It wasn't nearly as painful as she would have thought. It was as if they were catching up after a long separation. Although he recalled many major things, Eric still needed her to fill in the blanks.

It would seem like idle curiosity, but she knew that he was looking to corroborate every assumed delusion he'd had. It also explained many of the things that were on his mind. The fact that FIN had been stumped that he had been human, and Zee acting as though he'd seen a ghost, to name a few. It was as she had assumed, Eric was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. They broached the subject of Freyda and that was difficult, but not for the reason she would have thought.

"Why do you think Free and I found each other so early, when you and I only met again recently?" He asked, toying with the ring on her finger.

"Balance, I think. I'd hurt her," Sookie admitted and for some reason, the fact that this Eric loved Freyda made her ashamed of that. She had plucked the limbs off the witch Queen like a cruel child torturing an insect.

"Toward the end, she was ruined and totally alone. I think you started to feel sorry for her because she was a pawn you intended to use against your Maker, and I was dismantling her. I took everything from her and she began to...unravel."

None of them had escaped that love triangle unscathed.

"Shit!" Eric exclaimed, sitting up from the bed.

"What's wrong?"

"Free," he said, reaching for the phone on the nightstand. "You started feeling. I stopped having nightmares, and she's been acting differently since the day I first met you. I never assumed it meant she was getting better."

"Oh."

That was something that hadn't occurred to Sookie. To be honest, it wasn't something she thought of often. Her feelings of human Freyda were so multifaceted that she went to great lengths not to think on them. However, Sookie did find Freyda's recovery to be a great thing. It wasn't because Eric could let her go with a clear conscience.

It wasn't about her insecurity. It was about her own happiness that someone who had been suffering since she was a child no longer would be. They had all been serving the same sentence, just in different prisons, and now they would be free.

The Queen listened as the call Eric was making to his ex-wife's hospital connected. She could clearly hear every word, even the ones in the background that Eric couldn't. She knew something was wrong before he did. When he asked to speak with Freyda, he got a police officer instead. Freyda was missing.