A/N: Normally, I write Eric the way he's meant to be written-capable of emotion but colder, harsher. Feel free to read any of my earlier pieces to find that Eric, that CH Eric. He deserves to be written and he's rarely portrayed realistically (or as realistically as a fictional vampire can be). The Eric in this piece isn't CH's Eric. He's sappier and warmer and more comforting. There was no way around it. He couldn't be the same Eric because Sookie would never warm up to him, she'd never put trust in him. That said, I accept that this Eric is a softy. Believe me, I'm the last person that would make a softer, lighter vampire, but this particular brand of Viking vampire just had to be a little squishy around the edges.
It's About Power
Chapter 18
We stood that way, just close and quiet, in the suite for several seconds. Finally, I shook him off. His hand fell limply against his side and whatever moment we had just shared ended. Eric took his cellular phone out of his pocket and glanced at the time. He straightened his tie, adjusted the thin lapel of his jacket, and regarded me again. With one hand, he punched numbers into his phone. It sounds silly, but it was incredible seeing a man that had been clearly been on the Earth long before cellular phones were introduced (come to think of it, I had no idea how old he really was) as adept with technology as I was not.
"If you'll excuse me, Sookie, I have a meeting. Aaron will be outside the door if you have need of anything." He looked at me more closely, tilting his head just slightly. His eyes seemed to bore into me, but it wasn't a painful sort of gesture. I guess it was more like he was studying me. "Remember, I'm just a phone call away. I'll be in the hotel."
"I'll be okay," I said confidently. "No worries."
Eric picked up an attractive leather-covered briefcase from the coffee table and departed. I could see Aaron already standing by the door. He stuck his head in and waved to me before the door shut. Alone at last, I took a look around the enormous suite. The living room had six enormous floor to ceiling windows, a luxurious pin-striped cream-colored sofa and matching chairs, a coffee table with magazines and knick knacks, plus a matching side table pressed between the chairs, and a small dining table to boot. Through the windows, I could see the beautiful city, all lit up and brightly shining. Between the tops of some skyscrapers, around the bulk of others, I could see the dark mass of the Hudson River. I imagined it would look gorgeous in the daytime.
I slipped through the curtained French doors that separated my room from the main suite, and marveled at just how beautiful it was. My bed was gigantic, a king size monstrosity that looked absolutely cozy. It had a tan bedspread and an arrangement of those cylindrical pillows plus regular ones too. Through yet more floor-to-ceiling windows, I could see the lights of the city and the darkness of the river. There were curtains to pull over the view but I couldn't imagine covering it. Across from the bed, there was a pretty desk, and I even had my own bathroom. It wasn't the largest bathroom in the world, but it had both a standing shower and a huge tub with jets. I couldn't help giggling.
After I unpacked and hung up the assortment of clothes I'd packed (most of them purchased for the trip), I snuggled into my sweatpants and a short sleeve shirt. I crawled up onto the bed, tossed the pillows onto the floor, and wiggled under the sheets. Oh gosh it was more than cozy. The sheets were incredibly soft and the bedspread was warm and comfy. I turned on the massive flat-screen television and curled up against two of the four regular rectangular pillows. I found Generation Kill playing, marathon-style, on HBO and settled in to watch it. What can I say? Ray Person makes me laugh.
I don't know how Bill got there, but he was there. On the television screen, Brad and Ray were singing "Teenage Dirtbag," and there way Bill, standing over the bed. I screamed as he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me across the sheet. I grasped the bedspread, the pillows, anything to keep from being yanked, but nothing helped. I hit the floor with a loud thunk! His pants were down around his ankles and for the first time ever, in that position, I didn't give a rat's ass about his pleasure. I only wanted to escape. I had to escape. I thought about hurting him, biting him, but something seemed to be holding me back. I couldn't do anything but cry, beg him to stop.
"You wanted this, Sookie," he grinned at me. "You wanted all of this."
I woke up in tears to find hands still on me. Oh God, was it not a nightmare? Please tell me it wasn't really happening? I opened my eyes and shook my head. Maybe I shrieked or screamed, I couldn't be sure. Nothing seemed real and yet it all seemed very, very real. I squirmed out of the grip which suddenly loosened, much to my surprise. I looked up, panting. My throat was sore and my eyes stung. There, kneeling on the edge of my bed, was Eric Northman. I couldn't tell what that look was in his eyes. That was a recurring theme and it bothered me a little bit. He almost looked angry and worried and sad, all at the same time.
"You had a meeting," I breathed. I tried to push the dream out of my mind but it lingered like a hangover.
"That was two hours ago," Eric said. He pointed to the clock on the nightstand.
"So it's over then," I sighed. I tried to relax. Everything felt very shaky.
"Heh, yes, it's over." He sat down on my bed, but I kept my distance. "Look, I have an appointment at the spa for a massage. Would you like to join me? It's my treat."
"No," I shuddered. I tried not to imagine strange hands touching me. Definitely not what I would call a good time. "No, thank you."
"Well, there's a pool on the 36th floor. I understand it offers a beautiful view of the city. It's late, and I promise you that no one will be there to join you."
"So I'd be alone, then?" I asked.
"Well, mostly. I'll leave some security outside the entrance." Eric winked.
"Okay," I nodded.
I dug my bathing suit, a two-piece, white with red polka dots, out of my bag, and went to change. Eric changed as well, into blue jeans (as seemed to be his trademark) and a loose cotton tee shirt. I pulled a long tee shirt and a pair of shorts over my suit, and we took the elevator up to the 36th floor together. Eric walked me to the pool entrance, made sure his security guy was in place, and left to take his appointment at the spa. A little, silly part of me was aware of how thrilled the masseuse would be, rubbing Eric's naked body.
I giggled, folded my clothes at the edge of the pool, and jumped in. The water was heated, an exquisite seventy five degrees or so. I swam laps for awhile, and then floated on my back with my eyes closed. For awhile, I leaned on the side wall, kicking my legs languidly, and stared at the lights glinting from the skyscrapers. There were windows on three sides of the room, which meant that the pool took up most of the floor. Impressive. I could see central park and the Hudson River, plus a large part of Upper Manhattan.
I heard the door shut and I turned around to see Eric walking along the edge of the pool. He'd stripped down to a pair of black board shorts. The rest of his clothes were in a small bundle under his arm and he placed them, plus two white fluffy towels, next to my clothes. I'd never taken the time to really look at Eric undressed before. I mean, I'd seen him that way, for a moment, when I'd woken up beside him after the wreck. But at the time, I was so shocked that I pretty much bolted without really seeing him. Eric Northman was really a beautiful man. I've said that before, but it's just true. Shirtless, it was even more obvious. He had clearly defined muscles, large shoulders and firm pectorals. His abdomen was taut and I could see the bulging veins in his forearms and hands. He had just a little bit of blond hair on his chest, and a trail of it extended from his navel beyond the waist of his shorts. They sat low on his waist, and I could see the definition of his hips. I wondered if he enjoyed casual sex. After all, it wasn't the sex part that worried me so much (or at least, I could deny that that was it). It was the relationship part that scared me. I couldn't let anyone in, and I couldn't share myself with them. But that didn't mean we couldn't have a good old romp in the sack. Right?
"Will you join me in the hot tub, Sookie?" Eric asked as I swam near him. He'd dipped his long legs in the water, but for whatever reason, he remained sitting on the edge of the pool. I shrugged my shoulders, and Eric stuck a hand out to pull me up out of the water. I gave him a smirk and took the steps. The hot tub was elevated above the pool and from it you had a panoramic view of the city. It was really quite beautiful and I basked in it for awhile. Eric sat across from me and I pulled my legs up against my chest. I leaned my chin on my knees and let one of the jets caress my back.
"How old are you, Sookie? Twenty-five? Twenty-six?" Eric asked. I don't know if he expected me to answer, but boy, he was right on the money. I was just barely twenty-six years old. Maybe he'd caught a look at my driver's license. "I am over a thousand now."
I gasped. Wow. That's…well shit, that's really old. I must have had eyes as big as saucers because Eric laughed. His whole body seemed to move with the sound, and it created a deep rumbling in his chest that I could hear, even at a distance.
"I'm sure you've heard that vampires don't enjoy talking about their lives before they were turned. It's true. We're a very secretive lot. I suppose it's because most of us can't remember everything about the lives we lived before, and many of us have no desire to remember those times. I've been a vampire for a very long time and while I remember parts of my life as a human, it is more like a dream to me than a former reality. I will tell you that I am Scandinavian. I don't know how much they teach children in the Louisiana public school system, but I lived during the time of the Vikings. Technically speaking, I am a Viking."
"Wow," I gasped. What else do you say to something like that? What are you supposed to say when you're faced with a thousand year old Viking vampire? I was probably staring at him, completely shocked. And then I realized something that seemed significant, important, even vital. I now knew more about Eric than I had ever known about the vampire I loved, the man I'd spent a year of my life in service to, a man I'd worshipped, a man I let hurt me again and again. In ten minutes, I'd learned more about Eric than I knew about Bill. That was something to say Wow about.
"You're right on the money," I said quietly. I mean, it was share time now. I didn't have anything as daunting as Eric did, but I could still share my short little life with him, at least in part. "I just turned twenty six a few months ago. I was born in Bon Temps, and I've lived there all my life. I have a brother, Jason. He's a few years older than me. He's the only family I have now that Gran's gone. She passed away around the time I broke up with…well, yeah. Our folks died when I was six. They were driving over this bridge, and there was a flood. It washed the car away. So, we grew up with my Gran pretty much. I know, it's not as fascinating as being a vampire or anything, but it suits me just fine."
We ended up talking in that hot tub until my skin got all wrinkled like a prune. I noticed that Eric's fingers never got that prune-look, and that was a surprise. We wrapped ourselves up in the towels he'd brought, and we went back down to our suite. I showered the chlorine off my skin and crawled back into my pajamas. I was out like a light, and I didn't have a single nightmare.