Eric knew that his home had been gentrified and rebuilt hundreds of times over since he had lived there. But still, this time the same as every other, he huffed when he saw the skyscraper apartment complexes and fancy coffee shops. Oh, how he hated this era.
He wondered what would come next, what would inevitably follow this glass paneled, poly-plastic haven. But before he could enter too deep of a ponder, he saw the small, rounded spine of one of the eldest descendants of his people.
The woman was small and her skin was leathery. But she looked upon Eric as if she was gazing upon a fairytale character.
"It is a pleasure, Mr Northman." She croaked and before he could say anything, she placed her hand into the crook of his arm and they started walking.
He could not remember his grandmother, even his own mother's face had become worn in his mind. But the feeling of the small woman leaning on him made him feel strong and respectable. If only Sookie could see him now, helping the elderly.
They walked for longer than he could recall. They meandered past the complexes and malls, until they came to the real land, his real land. He had known buying this land would profit him one day. He had purchased the plot in hopes of preserving it and the way of his people. Of course, he had installed phones and subsequently internet when it had come along. But it was a safe place for his people to retreat if the modern world was not to their liking.
Being back there, seeing the small families of people, that looked just as his own must have, so many hundreds of years ago, made him feel an emotion he could not fully understand.
The lady, Agtha was the leader of the community. She was the eldest and therefore the leader. Of course, when Eric was around, he became leader by default. But he had no interest in taking on the leadership role of these people. They were a reminder of who he was, before the shitshow of his life had happened.
He spotted a man, chopping wood, his chest exposed to the sun and he smiled a little, seeing the inscription of his woman's name over his skin.
"Who did that work?" He asked and Agtha chuckled, her voice croaking.
"I do all of the tattoos in the old way, the right way." She told him and he smiled, of course, his people were a proud one and they would not relinquish their traditions.
Agtha understood why he had come. When he stripped down, she felt even the kindling of her old flames begin to flicker in the part of herself she called a woman.
"Mr Northman, you have been alive for so long. How did you not have a tattoo before?" She asked him, looking at him from the side of her eye.
He knew it was uncommon for a man even of 30 to be without a tattoo. But a man of over a thousand? There must be something wrong with him. That was their thinking.
"I was turned vampire before I could have my wife's name tattooed." He fabricated an answer and the woman nodded curtly.
Vampires were feared in his community and it had been a harsh awakening to learn that their plot of land, their reservation had been owned by an original Viking, turned vampire. But, as with everything, the more they lived with it, the superstition died down and the acceptance took its place.
He laid on the slab of wood and took a deep breath. It would have never been possible for him to do this before. His vampire blood would have healed the tattoo before it had set into the skin. But now, he had fae blood, he could sweat and eat and he was hoping that meant he could experience this tradition.
Agtha looked down at the name her benefactor had given her. Sookie she had never heard of such a name. But she knew that Eric had travelled widely in his all-too-long life and had no doubt experienced many women.
What kind of woman this Sookie must be for a bachelor of a thousand years to take the needle. Agtha took a moment to think of the woman and congratulate her, before she tapped the needle with the stone.
Eric took pride in being a man of great strength. But even his tolerance was nothing when faced with the tattoo. His ancient ways were brutal and painful and he felt every tap, every mark. But, when he thought of Sookie's face, when he considered that this might prove to her that their lives were going to be interlinked forever, he felt he could suffer for an eternity under the needle, if that is what it took.
However, it seemed a few hours were sufficient and when he gazed at himself in the looking glass, he couldn't believe it. It was as if some ancient part of him was healed, whole for the first time in his existence.
He was begged to stay for dinner, but even his native food was not enough to keep him from Sookie. He was bandaged up and sent on his way, with orders to greet his wife on behalf of his people.
The plane was waiting and on the journey back, the pain of the tattoo and the anxiety anticipating Sookie's reaction melded and made the journey one of the most uncomfortable of his life.