Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chpt 63 And the Darkness Will Disappear of Itself
EPOV
It took a half dozen of Niall's warriors to subdue me, pressing my face into the threadbare carpet that smells so strongly of her.
My blood, her scent.
To fight them is instinctive, to fail is expected.
To give up so easily . . . .
"Eric." His face is a mere inch from mine. "I am sorry . . . ."
Sorry.
I do not want him to be sorry. I do not want him to have anything to be sorry for.
"Where is she?"
"She is here."
"Can I . . . ."
Niall's sorrowful countenance withdraws from my sight.
"Let him up." He commands.
"Majesty, is that wise?" Someone perched on my back asks.
"Let him up." He says heavily, his blood splattered Italian leather brogues appearing in my line of sight.
The weight lifts off but I do not get up.
"De Castro?" I ask, recognising the smell.
"Yes."
"Did he suffer?"
"You would have been pleased." He assures me quietly.
Carefully I get to my feet, hiding my wince at how the movement affects the now gaping wound in my chest.
"There is much you need to tell me." I growl automatically when our eyes are level.
He nods, sucking in his cheeks for a moment.
"I will tell you everything when you are ready. Your child, your friends, they are all safe."
My turn to nod.
I have responsibilities and soon enough I will need to meet them.
"Leave us." He orders his guards.
They hesitate but ultimately obey him.
I do not recognise the room but we are in Sookie's dilapidated farm house, I recognise the local scents and sounds. The way it creaks with old age.
My chest constricts and to my extreme annoyance his face softens in sympathy, as if he understands me.
Then he startles me by ripping the sleeve from his shirt, offering me his naked arm.
I blink.
"She would be unhappy." He says evenly. "If she saw your wound."
She is not going to though, is she?
Instead of constricting, my chest swells, threatening to rip me asunder.
"Eric." He says gently. "There are things that I need you to hear. It is always darkest before the dawn."
I snort. Platitudes?
"Son. I understand that all of this is new to you."
"You understand nothing!" I snap, backing away from him lest I do something stupid.
"I understand that Godric's death did nothing to prepare you for this."
As usual my glare has no effect on him whatsoever. We will not be probing my inner psyche over this. I know my limits. I know they are already breached. And I will deal with it. I will . . . .
"My father died when I was still a boy. I never knew my mother, she died not long after I was born." He raises an eyebrow, daring me to shut him down. "I wanted to be a chariot racer when I became a man, they got all the girls. But I did not get the chance, war came and I fought, I fought for so long it was all I could remember being able to do. It was me. I was good at it. Thus, when I met Sookie's Great Grandmother, Eildith, I was woefully ill equipped to deal with her."
He chuckles to himself, remembering, but not allowing me to look away.
"That woman destroyed my life more thoroughly than any weapon. I was absolutely sure she had been sent by some all-powerful agent of ruin. My own personal demon."
He watches me blink.
"Despite the death I had already experienced I was in no way prepared for hers."
Another blink.
"You may not like it Eric Northman, but I do understand you."
He sighs, closing his eyes briefly.
"And you are luckier than I."
"What?" I demand, my voice almost a shout.
That is his understanding?
"I will explain." He promises, thrusting his arm at me. "But first you will drink."
"I am not a toddler!" I object, offended by his casual air of command.
"I never thought you were." He smirks. "But for my Great Granddaughter I will feed you like one if you continue to be stubborn."
I want to rage, scream, maim and destroy. But instead I take his arm carefully in my hand, sinking my fangs into his wrist.
He tastes like an enhanced version of Sookie and the memory of it nearly sends me to my knees.
He is correct. I am in no way prepared to deal with this.
I just know that I will.
The pain of my wound magically recedes as I swallow his blood.
The other pain, gets sharper, cuts deeper. Moves in its possessions and settles down to take up permanent residence.
I knew, I always knew, it was inevitable, that I would lose her eventually.
…..
Because I am suddenly reluctant to face this Niall leaves me to take a shower and don the fresh clothes one of the guards has left on the bed.
I pause before I open the door, gathering my courage, unsure why I am attempting to avoid what I already know to be true. Except, perhaps, that my feelings for her have always been tinged with avoidance and I am disinclined to let even that go.
When I finally emerge Niall is waiting in the corridor, leant against the wall in a pose I recognise from myself. Extremely casual alertness, Pam calls it.
The house is dark and still, there is no one here who requires light to see.
I follow him down through the rooms in silence. Her scent is everywhere and it closes my throat over a range of emotions that I am unwilling to face.
"She is breathing." I whisper to myself as we cross the living room, it is faint and scratchy and I do not know whether to be relieved or appalled. My steps falter in confusion and he stops, turning to face me.
"For now." He says quietly, watching my face closely.
"I cannot feel her." I admit in a low voice. "I thought she was gone."
"She is." He informs me sadly, extending his hand. "Come, see her, I will explain."
Unsure if I have what it takes to do this, I do something I would never have expected, I take his proffered hand and allow him to draw me forward.
He ushers me through her door and everything I have been trying to fight overwhelms me, weakening my legs and I slump to my knees.
She looks, perfect. The sleeping beauty.
The wrongness of this and the injustice of it hits me full force. I do not know how this could have happened to her. I can neither see nor smell any injuries but her blood is not her own, like she has been transfused and she, the essential parts that I have come to rely on, is gone.
The reality of it is so much that I have no shame for the blood tears that are staining my cheeks.
Gone.
I did not realise how much hope, despite Niall's obvious sadness, I had managed to manifest just a few moments ago. Somehow even the idea that she has decided, in light of last night's events, to go with him to Faery, severing our bond, forsaking me, was a cause for celebration.
"Eric, Son." Niall's voice is the only thing other than Sookie I can focus on. "We are alone here, do not hold back."
Using all my speed I flash to the bed, slowing to a less than human pace, since jostling her would be disrespectful, lowering myself down to carefully wrap my arms and legs around her, burying my face in her golden hair, staining it, I am sure, with my bloody tears.
Something inside me is definitely breaking. Broken.
"Sookie."
I will plead, beg like a dog, do anything . . . . for it not to be true.
Peripherally I am aware of him sinking into the chair I occupied the night I kidnapped her.
"I am sure you are aware of how wood in the heart 'breaks' the blood magic that gives you life."
I nod, not caring if he can see the slight movement.
"Fae and vampire, they do not . . . ."
He sighs.
"I was not aware it was possible . . . ."
He swallows.
"Her magic, her light. Somehow she was able to use it to hold you together, while she fed you. And when the stake was removed, her light, it healed you."
It is my turn to swallow, a dry, clicking sound.
"She gave her light, and her blood, to ensure you would live, Eric. She is spent."
No.
No. Not for me.
No.
"She loved you."
No.
No, no, no, no, no . . . .
"Sookie . . . . please . . . . I need you . . . ."
Someone is making an intermittent and harsh barking sound.
It is possibly me.
Fatalistic acceptance.
I am broken.
…..
"Son, it is time for you to learn about souls."
The urge to maim, scream and destroy is rising but instead I find myself listening . . . .
"Souls are amazing things. They live forever. Moving in and out of lucidity. Though they are not technically conscious they are able to remember, to learn, hope, covet, grieve, hate and love. And all these things they are able to do for eternity.
Most are simply never aware.
Those of us that consider ourselves supernatural beings are inclined to be more attuned to what underpins our existence.
I am able to follow souls."
I am not sure I am following him but his words are hypnotic, holding what I know of me together, for now.
"Godric came to understand the unending power of souls. That was, in part, my fault and for that I am sorry. But he was always a spiritual being."
A pause.
"When I went to him, seeking to use our friendship to protect Sookie, he was extremely disinclined to help. He wanted only to protect you.
But when I showed him your souls, your connection . . . . ah . . . . Eric . . . . he would not deny you your soul's desire . . . . he loved you . . . . he came to hope, as I did . . . . that this time we could bring the two of you together.
Eric, I am sorry, I am meandering here, but this is important. To you.
The knowledge that there was more to existence than he realised, that there could be more for him also . . . . Eric, it is the reason he decided it was time to free his own soul to live again. And he will, my Son, we all will. Some of us when we are ready, some of us when we must."
Godric. Father, Brother, Son.
I . . . . I miss him. But Niall was correct. It has not prepared me for this loss. It shames me, for he was everything to me, yet his loss has been overshadowed, obliterated, expunged.
"Your soul, Eric, has desired Sookie's since the dawn of time. Has, in fact, stalked her through it."
He laughs, mirthlessly.
"The bitter irony of this is that is has always been her who has resisted you. Been afraid to lose herself to you. It has been like a very bad romance novel to review. Until now. The most unlikely of circumstances. When you are her natural enemy. She is perverse, like her Great Grandmother."
"Why are you telling me this?"
Are you torturing me? Did I do something to earn this? I am sure I did, many times over . . . .
"This time . . . . Eric . . . . you and she . . . . you are soul mates."
He heaves in a deep breath.
"You love her and she loves you."
"I do not understand."
And I do not. I want to imagine a way in which this makes things better, but I cannot.
"Souls, whether they know it or not, are capable of linking themselves irrevocably to another. You and Sookie, you have done that, mated, on the most elemental of levels . . . ."
I lift my head to look him in the eye, unable to see what good that could possibly be now, but he raises his hand.
"Ah." He chides. "Listen to the old man."
Unable to muster any resistance I slump back down until I am once again buried in her hair.
"Sookie . . . ."
"You can never lose her Eric. She will always be yours."
"She is dying." I point out, though it is agonising to admit.
"Souls are always reborn."
"So, what?" My anger gets the better of me and I jostle her immobile body as I jerk upright. "I am lucky because one day, in who knows how many years, I might bump into her reincarnation on the street?"
He sighs, slumping forward and fisting his hands in his hair.
"Yes."
"Yes? Yes? Are you out of your ever loving ancient mind?"
I am aware that my grip on Sookie now would hurt her, if she were truly here, but I cannot seem to relinquish it. If my physical strength alone could only keep her . . . .
"Eildith was not my soul mate."
Now I really am confused, and angry and . . . .
"I am Fairy. I gave her my soul. Gladly. But she could not give me hers. It was already lost."
I keep my eyes on him, tightening my already hard grip on Sookie instinctively.
When he looks up his eyes are unguarded windows, full of unshed tears.
"Long before I met her she fell in love with another. His heart and his intentions were not pure. She gave herself, her soul and her light to him."
He stops, dropping his head to inspect his wringing hands.
"And he cast them aside."
He heaves in a quivering breath.
"The Fae do not get second chances in this regard. Because of his deceit her soul was not able to bond with mine. When she died I was not able to call her back to me. And though we may meet again, by random chance, in the future, there is nothing to bind us together. Our souls are forever destined to remain alone."
There are some obvious questions I must ask him but I cannot get past the implications of what he did.
"You knew . . . ."
"Yes. I knew. Everything. The eternal consequences, everything."
"And you still did it?"
You knew you were doing it? Giving away your soul, your chance . . . .
He raises his eyes to mine, the tears now rolling down his face.
"I would give my soul to no other. I loved her. She was an amazing woman."