Disclaimer:
Anything you recognise belongs to the creative genius that is Charlaine Harris and/or Alan Ball. I'm just playing around with their universe(s).
xXx
5
Godric wasn't completely sure if his little stray would have calmed down the next night, but he decided to push her some in either case. He was a patient man, but he wasn't about to waste the golden opportunity the arrival of Jasper O'Regal had offered.
So when he sat down in the sweetly-scented grass in the park that evening he left the bottles of TruBlood right by his side before leaning back, arms resting behind his head, and listening out for the baby vampire.
She arrived swiftly enough, but he could sense her hesitating by the trunk of a tree several yards away when she spotted where he'd placed her evening meal.
Godric ignored her.
The girl took a couple of circles around him, drawing closer as she did, and he hid a wide smile when he heard her sniffing as if she was smelling the air for any hidden traps.
And then she was standing next to him, staring down at his face with uncertainty.
"Godric."
He met her gaze when she spoke his name.
"Yes, kitten?"
Her brows furrowed. "My name is Irin, not kitten."
"You sound like a kitten when you hiss," he said, not bothering to stop the teasing smile that spread over his lips. "But I am pleased to meet you, Irin."
She scowled at him for a moment, but then sighed and gracefully sank down a few feet from him, reaching for a bottle of TruBlood.
If he stretched out his left arm he would be able to brush over her thigh with his fingertips, she was that close. Godric was wise enough to not attempt such a thing.
"I don't know why that happens," she suddenly whispered, nervously glancing at him out the corner of her eyes. "The hissing. I get scared and… it just comes out."
Ah yes. He recalled Nora sitting up a treetop growling at a lone vampire they'd happen to cross paths with before he'd had time to explain that there was nothing to be concerned about. She'd been rather mortified at that experience.
"You are very young, and alone – the Beast is strong in you. It is your survival instincts drawing out your more primal sides," he explained.
Her lips pinched to a pout as she looked down at the bottle of blood in her hands. "How long before I… become normal?"
Something in his chest ached at the lost tone and he rolled over to his side so he could look at her. She tensed at his movement but stayed put.
"You won't ever be like you were. And the longer you stay out in the wild, the more of yourself you will lose."
A small growl escaped her throat. "This is not fair!"
He sighed lightly. "No."
And then brightly shining, violet eyes turned to him, anger plain in them. "Where were you the night I was turned? You come here to save these humans from me, but why didn't you save me?"
That sore thing in his chest constricted uncomfortably. "I am trying now," he said in as gentle a tone as he could.
Blood tears started flowing from her eyes, and she wiped at them irritably, hissing when she saw the red colour on her palms and fingers.
"Irin…" He tried recalling how to give comfort to a distraught young one, remembering how both Eric and Nora had relaxed in his embrace when they went to ground for the day. He sat up and hesitantly reached out, only to be met with a growl and extended fangs as she swirled away from him.
"Do not show your fangs at me," he gently reprimanded, getting up into a crouch. There was no point in letting mood swings run rampant – that had cost an entire settlement their lives when he'd thought it a good idea to simply let a new-born Eric tire himself out in one of his first temper tantrums.
She snarled in response, edging away from him without taking her stiff gaze from his.
"Go away! Go away and leave me alone!" There was a hint of desperation in her high-pitched voice. "I don't want your help - you're too late!"
Godric sighed and straightened up. "I cannot leave a feral vampire with no self-control to run wild in my area; I will not simply go away. Go run off your anger if you must, but stay within the boundaries of the park. And stay away from humans or I will catch you, with silver if need be."
The hurt in her eyes at his threat spiked as she spit out: "Then I will leave your area!" And off with the soft pop of her teleportation she was.
Godric tensed for a moment, worried she would have gone far, but relaxed again as he heard her running full-speed through the grass further up ahead. He didn't remember Eric nor Nora being quite this difficult to handle.
It was really rather simple, his feral vampire problem. He'd done his best to talk her into surrender – going way, way above and beyond his Sheriff duties with her – and at this point he was fully within his right – and obligation - to swiftly execute her as her savage behaviour was a threat to Mainstreaming and the vampire community in general, which was above all else in the eyes of the Authority. Despite his serene reputation, Godric was no stranger to killing in his role as a Sheriff when need be – and when it came to vampire society, the need for a swift execution was fairly frequent.
There was no reason for him to extend this girl's life any further; even if he would have trouble catching her, he could succeed – with silver – and if he wanted to, he could have a stake through her heart before she even realised he was in the park with her.
Godric's face was a still mask as he thought about taking her life. It would certainly make sense. And it would allow him to return to the duties he was currently neglecting, letting Isabel take care of them in her capacity as his Second. But however capable she was, she was not the Sheriff and her authority was limited, which meant that in the long run, his area was suffering for his choice to spend his nights in this park.
It wasn't really that hard to figure out why he was reluctant to do so, though it would be the logical step to take: He saw himself in her, how he had been after murdering his maker; lost, scared, alone… broken and dangerous. Some long-buried part of him was longing to save her, to somehow save himself.
He wondered if, in truth, the world wouldn't have been better off if someone had driven a stake through his unbeating heart when he was young and feral, before he killed, violated, tormented, mutilated and destroyed thousands upon thousands, and he knew deep in his soul that yes, it would have been for the best.
And it would have been more merciful to him too. He had too many brutalities on his newly-evolved conscience to ever hope for a peaceful ever after, and it would have saved him from the centuries he had been lost and alone in the wild; centuries he would never fully recover from.
Yes, his true death would have been the only right choice.
And hers would probably be the most merciful thing he could gift her.
But those big, scared eyes would haunt him until the end of his existence.