Warning: continuation of overdose content. Themes of life and death.
Disclaimer: Women Who Run With The Wolves strikes again. More details at the end but I can't claim full credit for this plot arc.
Eric thankfully made it back to his nest before the sun could cause some serious damage, but his experience for the rest of the day could hardly be called sleep. He hid in the underground bedroom at his nest and closed his eyes but never actually succumbed to the usual death vampires experienced when they went to ground. His mind buzzed, causing blood to continue to pour out of his ears and nose as he tossed and turned.
Because he was still angry. So, so angry.
It was the most common emotion he'd felt since his turning - it fueled his entire crusade against Russell for over a thousand years after all - but Eric hadn't experienced it this intensely since his newborn years. The monster he kept at bay needed to be free and roam the night with its insatiable appetite, killing and feeding on whomever it pleased without remorse. Eric wanted pure animalistic bloodlust like the old days of his youth without any responsibilities. His being stuck underground only made his rage worse since there was no way to release it.
How did Grace think leaving in the middle of the day would go unnoticed? And she just had to go on a rampage, breaking vampire rules in her wake, didn't she? Eric growled as he flipped onto his other side, continuing to give in to his fury. But his temper consumed him so much that he missed an important warning sign that had started during his previous day's rest.
The Viking had dipped back into his numbness after the last cabaret but something smoldered deep inside his chest while he avoided the sun. It was dull at first but quickly grew and he'd never felt such a unique pain. The creeping agony made him feel like his bones were on fire and it woke him from his slumber, which was a cause for concern. The sensation had snuck up on him and that didn't happen to the infamous Eric Northman during the day. No one was bold enough to attack him during his rest; it was eerie and chilling.
His apathy melted away as he went on high alert. He couldn't quite place what was causing the pain but itched to find out what was happening. It wasn't until the night finally came that he answered a call from Vincenzo and figured out the source. His third-in-command reported that he'd stopped by Grace's residence to take up his shift and found it in disarray. The day man tailing her was incapacitated - his brain completely scrambled - and she was nowhere to be found. Her car was gone, the house had no signs of forced entry and many valuables were still inside. It all pointed to a hasty, voluntary departure rather than an abduction.
She left and apparently didn't want to be found. The reality hit Eric like a ton of bricks and deepened the unique pain in his chest.
He always knew Grace could trigger the contract termination clause. Still, Eric never thought she would do it since he'd lavished her with perks and structured the payout timeline to reward her for staying the full six months. And he certainly didn't expect her to go without a single explanation during the day when he couldn't negotiate.
A switch immediately flipped in his brain before he could truly process how much her departure hurt him. Eric's dominant, possessive tendencies took the reigns and his sole fixation became finding her. This was not how it would end; he would have a bigger say in the matter. She was not getting away this easily.
While Grace had been smart enough to cover her whereabouts by mesmerizing her tail, he still had something in his back pocket to figure out where she was. The Sheriff pulled out his phone from his black jeans and opened a tracking app to locate her company-owned iPhone, just like he'd been doing since he gave it to her. The current view showed it wasn't in Shreveport and once he zoomed out on the map, Eric's face froze. Her location dot was smack dab in the middle of the Texas desert, hours away even by vampire flight and within Area 9.
Isabel's jurisdiction.
The information hit him like a bloodhound catching a scent and after a few quick calls, Eric offloaded his duties for the evening to Vincenzo and Pam, telling them not to expect him back until sunrise. He followed up by alerting Isabel that he planned on entering her territory for a conversation with one of his employees and would consider it a favor if she could come with him in case of a problem. Although he didn't mention it out loud, Eric didn't trust Grace would be a saint after she'd ruined her tail's mental state.
He rocketed into the sky to avoid wasting any time. The closer he got to Grace, the better the pain in his chest felt; something akin to hope replaced it. But it became clear that things were terribly wrong once Eric and Isabel entered the small town bar. The locals were acting crazy and tearing up the place as if under some spell and when the Viking's eyes landed on Fangtasia's star sitting at one of the booths surrounded by her evil black aura that only he could see, he knew exactly why. She had done this, veering out of control. And by the way she blasted morbid sensations through their bond, Grace was high again like her last performance and didn't even realize the full mess she'd made.
Because it was more than just their contract now … or even his power struggle with Bill. Russell had changed everything with his dominion over werewolves. The Authority was now on the offensive to maintain control over the American public by any means necessary, even if it meant waging war with other supes. And Grace was in their crosshairs with her latest stunt.
Their newly passed laws gave Eric the right to deal with Grace in his own territory and he'd been actively choosing not to hold her accountable for her actions since he was benefiting from them in more ways than one. But her powers were causing chaos at another level and if caught by the higher-ups, the case would be out of his jurisdiction. It would even be above Bill's authority since Grace had broken laws in multiple states. The new Magister would weigh in since she'd recently been authorized to pass judgment on non-vampires who could be a threat. Eric knew she wouldn't hesitate to make an example out of Grace. In fact, she might take him down too for letting the singer run wild at Fangtasia without consequences. Bill's fines would pale in comparison to whatever she could inflict.
The situation made him so irate that he began to see red; the beast inside him roared and demanded to be let loose against the Authority. He would not lose Grace to them as he did with Sylvie nor accept whatever banishment they gave him next. But he wouldn't let it come to that. Instead, Eric would ensure all of it disappeared before anyone could learn what had happened.
He quickly glamoured Grace to keep her quiet while bartering with Isabel to help him sweep the singer's mess under the rug. He didn't want to know what he owed her but was thankful the Sheriff had agreed to help so he could return to Louisiana before sunrise without incriminating Area 9 any further. He needed all the time he could get since it would take longer to fly home with Grace. If they went at his normal vampiric altitude and speed, she would die from the cold and shock.
They made it, but his willpower began to erode as the first light peaked from behind the horizon. Once inside the house, his unbridled rage just about consumed him and it took everything he had not to say something he couldn't take back. But he didn't have the strength to tamp down on their bond and Grace felt his emotions. They fueled her retaliation, he could sense it. She threw a scattershot of digs at him (the kind he expected to hear when she left in the first place) and he only survived because of over a thousand years of practicing restraint. Yet Grace eventually pounced on his weak spot - his uncharacteristic love for her that he was too scared to embrace - and Eric finally hit his breaking point.
He shut his brain off and stepped into his Sheriff's attitude, knowing that the only way to keep Grace safe would be to trap her during the day while he went to ground. She couldn't be trusted in her current state and neither could he. It was petty to make her aware of his control over her but he was all out of fucks to care enough. All that mattered was that he'd bought himself time to plan what to do in the long term. Yet it was still excruciating to wait until nightfall when he could make moves again and his ferocity overwhelmed every other emotion during his time underground.
Most importantly, it masked the burning pain that had returned in his chest.
Eric didn't know the sensation was there until he rose from his bed when the sun finally set, raided his evidence locker and downed five unsanctioned blood bags in one sitting to feed the beast and lure it back into its cage. The agony surrounding his connection to Grace came to the forefront as his anger receded. Eric held his chest after the bond pulsed and it felt like someone had staked him.
Everything came back into focus.
When he recognized the feeling, he whipped out his phone in a panic. It was the first time he'd looked at it since initially calling Isabel, so he had to move past a few texts and missed calls from Bill to open his tracking app and check Grace's location. Her dot was still in the house and there was no chance she'd left without her phone due to his glamouring. Nothing from his surveillance team either … but Eric didn't feel at ease. He trusted the ominous pain meant something was still wrong.
The Viking declined another incoming call from Bill - because fuck him right now - and rose from his seat. He had every intention of rushing to Grace's house but when he made it upstairs, he found Pam stalling the King's personal security squad to avoid letting them in the door.
"See, I told you he can be a heavy sleeper," his progeny purred, turning to face Eric behind her. It allowed her to flash him a pointed look that said 'You're welcome' but also notice his agitation without giving it away to their visitors.
"Evening, Sheriff," the security lead said with a respectful nod. "The King sent me here in case you continued to avoid his communications." He pulled a phone out of his pocket, dialed his boss and held it out to Eric as it began to ring. "I'm to take your personal phone and ensure he has your full attention."
"Very mature of him," Pam sassed.
"New rules, ma'am. I just enforce them."
Dealing with Bill was one of the last things Eric wanted to do at that moment. The pain pulsed again; his attention was needed elsewhere. His eyes shifted back and forth, weighing the odds of him getting out of there unscathed. They didn't look good—for him, at least. The same couldn't be said about his progeny.
"Check on our star while I deal with this," Eric muttered to Pam in Old Swedish before he took the phone. He added a sweetener to make sure she'd do it without question. "I'll make it thirty copies instead of twenty-five."
His second-in-command got the hint and zipped out of the nest. He felt marginally better knowing his right hand could handle things but Eric's eyes narrowed as he heard Bill's Southern drawl answer the phone. His monster started to wake up and rattle the cage.
"This better be important," the Sheriff growled, handing his personal device to the security team. "I'm busy."
"I can tell," Bill said smugly. "You didn't submit your status report yesterday." Eric had been so consumed by his trip to Texas that the thought of doing his other normal duties hadn't even crossed his mind. He clenched his fist at his side.
"All this follow up over something that's not even a day late? Micromanagement really doesn't suit you, Bill."
"I can do whatever I please, I own you. Be grateful that I'm in Baton Rouge. Otherwise my detail would have dragged you directly to Bon Temps to have this conversation in person."
He glowered at the King's patronizing tone and concluded that the new rule of taking phones only applied to him, likely because he'd been ignoring him. Bill was dangling the crown in front of him just to taunt him. He must have gotten off on the control, the motherfucker.
All of a sudden, the Viking felt a whoosh of dread flow through his progeny's bond. His persona device started buzzing and playing Pam's specific ringtone. He kept a straight face, knowing he couldn't give himself away in front of the detail; they would no doubt be debriefing Bill with extra clues they noticed in person. Yet he started to wither under his mask. His hunch must have been right.
"But I'm not contacting you over your report, Eric. I need you to look at something, sending it now."
Pam's call ended and a new attempt was made immediately afterward. Eric pursed his lips but focused his attention on the company phone in his hand so he could read Bill's incoming attachment. To his horror, it was a copy of Isabel's incident report from the previous night. It didn't mention anything about him or Grace. Her write-up stated that she'd stumbled into the bar after receiving an anonymous complaint but had no idea how the locals had turned so crazy.
The security lead, meanwhile, couldn't stop staring at Eric's personal phone. Pam made another call when the second one ended but stopped after it went to voicemail again. She knew Eric couldn't look at his device yet still managed to get her message across with three calls and then a silence. That was their code for SOS.
Something was definitely wrong.
"Have you read it?" Bill asked impatiently.
"Yes," Eric said through his teeth. As much as he wanted to run to Grace's house, he needed to find out what Bill knew. "But why do you care about what happens in Texas? Sure, everything's bigger there but otherwise I find it rather … dry."
"I'm always looking for leverage, that shouldn't come as a surprise." He could clearly picture Bill's smirk even though he couldn't see him. "And you see, ever since the Authority adopted human technology, it's been easier than ever to find it. All I had to do was pay some desperate hacker to write me a script - or whatever they call it - to troll through all the reports entered into the nationwide database. It flags unusual things and drops them in my inbox at the end of each night. This one popped up yesterday. So tell me, what do you think caused the disturbance?"
Eric couldn't tell his angle, so he played it safe.
"There's not enough information in the report to determine what happened."
"My thoughts exactly. I want you to contact Isabel and get the full story. Ask her about the humans' eyes and if they were black. Do whatever you must, invoke Godric's name for all I care."
The beast slammed against the cage bars and snapped its jaws at the mention of his maker; Eric wanted to shout obscene insults into the phone and disrespectfully hang up. But he noticed the desperation creeping into his superior's tone and pushed down his anger. Bill was so fixated that his own mask was slipping and if he played his cards right, he might gain an advantage against the King.
"Why their eyes?" Eric pressed.
Bill's nerves dropped his voice to a lower register.
"... I need to know if we failed to kill Maryann. Or if she has a sister who's out for vengeance. I will not be surprise attacked by some creature, my reign is too important."
A maenad. He thought a maenad caused the incident.
At first, Eric didn't fully trust that he'd earned the relief he felt. Bill could be luring him into a false sense of security while he set up the chessboard for an eventual checkmate. But the Sheriff eventually decided that the King was still young and hadn't mastered the high-stakes political games the Authority loved to play. He was starting to crack under the pressure. His performance wasn't up to their standards and Nan Flannigan was constantly hovering over Louisiana to clean up their messes. So it made sense why Bill's actions were desperate and crazed as he looked for threats across the country that weren't even there. He was chasing ghosts out of fear and Eric would happily indulge him to get him off their scent. Making Grace's outburst look like a maenad's wrath would be easy.
"I see. I will contact Isabel," he replied. Then, he deployed a tactic that had worked with the last King he'd outflanked: false loyalty. "And I can ensure this information doesn't go to the Texas leadership, only to you. If it is Maryanne, we don't want a panic like the last time."
"Good." Bill's voice returned to his normal tone. "Good. I want an answer by sunrise tomorrow. Report as soon as you have information."
With that, the line went dead. Eric couldn't tell if Bill trusted him but it didn't matter, he needed to get out of there. Now.
The vampire instantly snatched his personal phone from the lead's hands, slammed the front door shut, used the back door to stay out of their sight and raced through the woods towards Grace's residence. Once he arrived, Eric pushed past the harrowing pain and threw the entryway door open. He was surprised to see Louis standing next to Pam in the living room. Their backs were turned to him and they hovered near the couch, whispering to each other.
"What is it?" He tried to keep his voice steady but the smell of Grace's blood was tantalizing and alarming. "And what is he doing here?"
"I needed to consult an expert while Vincenzo gets Ludwig. She's declining my calls," Pam replied darkly.
Then his progeny stepped back from the couch to answer his first question. She revealed Grace's bottom half - her legs still clad in the dingy sweatpants from the night before - and a rolled up dollar bill on the coffee table. Louis gulped and followed suit, moving to expose Grace's upper body. Her nosebleed had stopped but left a considerable red trail down her face and chest. All three vampires couldn't stop staring at it.
"Boss, I don't know how she's still breathing," the band leader said quietly. "By all accounts, she should be dead."
The news hit him hard. It was as if Eric was hearing music for the first time and someone had unexpectedly cut the speakers in the middle of the song's crescendo.
As much as he'd been running from it, he experienced vibrations that touched his very DNA and put the world into perfect harmony when he was with Grace. Godric called it love, but it was so much more than that simple word. She'd brought him out of the same depressing fog that had claimed his maker and life was worth living just to have more of her music in it, even if trouble could follow. But now the electronics switched off and the sounds abruptly stopped with a distorted ripping noise. No more melodies, no more lyrics. It was extremely disorienting and distressing to be thrown back into silence after feeling such remarkable things and Eric knew he'd lost a part of himself that he wasn't sure he would ever get back. There was no guarantee that the music would return with Grace's current state.
He walked over to her side and sat on the coffee table, taking her face in his hands. The singer's body jolted in response to his touch, but her shallow breaths barely moved her rib cage when she settled back into her coma. Their bond throbbed tortuously. Eric set her down and developed a vacant thousand-yard stare like he always did when he shut down. He stayed that way even when Vincenzo brought Dr. Ludwig through the front door. Pam and Louis didn't dare to disrupt him.
"I was in the middle of surgery!" the dwarf exclaimed, glaring at his third-in-command for bringing her there.
"Don't care, we pay better," Pam retorted, taking control since Eric was incapacitated. "Now fix her."
The doctor huffed before gesturing for the others to move from the couch; Eric barely noticed Pam's touch as she pulled him away. Ludwig put on her glasses and tested the powder on the table, noting the results. She reached into her bag and administered a nasal spray, but nothing happened. She then inspected Grace - poking, prodding and sniffing - to determine the next course of action.
"You gave her your blood, yes?" she asked, pushing up her specs.
"First thing I tried," Louis said. "She spit it back up."
"Alright then, what's wrong with her?"
"Excuse me? Aren't you supposed to be the one who answers that?" Pam retorted.
"I'm not in the mood, vampire. You handed me a medical mystery while I have another patient waiting on the operating table," Ludwig growled, setting the tone for their conversation. "I need more details."
"We pay better," his progeny said through her teeth, matching her ire. "I don't give a fuck how long this takes, you're going to fix -"
"Grace isn't fully human," Louis cut in to ease the tension.
"No shit, Sherlock. That's why she's still breathing somehow. What else ya got?" Ludwig clapped back.
"She doesn't know what she is. And I don't know if we do either. But she hypnotizes people when she sings and makes them do things."
"How the hell do you know that?" Pam said crossly. She turned to Eric. "If you let him in on this before me, you owe me fifty copies."
The Viking ignored her, still unable to gaze away from the artist's river of dried blood.
"Grace told me," Louis finally admitted. "She wanted you to hire her in the first place. Then she charmed the entire Fangtasia audience each cabaret to make them want sex and ultimately spend more money … same with Leon. And Dallas, well he was an accident."
But that got his attention. Eric's eyes silently shifted to the band leader as a crack formed in his ranks. It was the first time he'd received confirmation on Dallas but moreover, Louis' knowledge of the whole matter had never filtered up to him. What else had he been hiding? His dark anger rose as a knee-jerk reaction to the breach of trust.
"And you just sat on this?" Pam spat, voicing his thoughts.
"She could be fae. They're known for their performances," Ludwig interjected to keep the conversation on topic. "But she doesn't smell like one. So what else?"
"She has a devilish side," his second-in-command said after a few moments of silence, crossing her arms over her chest and begrudgingly playing along with the doctor. "She's probably a demon then."
"What, like a succubus? Nah," Louis disagreed. "I've worked with one of those, they are nasty. Grace is not."
"Got any other ideas then, genius?"
"My guess is a witch."
"Yeah, well Eric ruled that one out already. No evidence of spellwork."
"You have quite the operation here, Northman," Ludwig said, finally acknowledging the Sheriff. "Very helpful."
Her sarcasm stoked his rage, alongside the fact that his chain of command was falling further into disarray. They were supposed to be a well oiled machine he could trust and that was clearly not the case. But soon, a bigger crack formed that Eric hadn't been expecting.
"I believe she is a siren."
The statement came from Vincenzo, the reliable softspoken one who blended into the shadows and cleaned up everyone else's messes. He didn't say something unless he meant it. Eric's head snapped to face him, his full attention on his cousin. The Viking had encountered siren lore throughout his research and the details matched Grace's abilities. There was just one problem that always led him to a dead end, which is why he never took the theory seriously.
"They've been extinct for over five hundred years," Eric finally spoke.
"That's not true. I've met one."
Eric's brain whirred to life with this new information as the puzzle pieces started coming together. Vincenzo was not that much older than Pam.
"Explain," he barked. "Spare no details." Vincenzo obeyed, contributing more than Eric had ever heard him say in one sitting.
"Remus' game … you've played it, have you not?"
Eric nodded. Vincenzo's maker had grown bored after the first thousand years of his vampire existence and invented a game to play with his siblings; whoever could capture the rarest supernatural and bring it back alive would win. Godric participated over the years, using the skills he learned viciously hunting humans for sport. He'd even recruited Eric and Nora to make their own entries when they came of age. The catch celebration dinners were legendary and filled with blood and sacrifice but ceased once Remus passed in 1891.
"Near the end of his life, my maker commanded me to find a siren as my first entry. They didn't exist so it would be the perfect prize to show off in front of the rest of the family. He tortured me as I scoured the world and failed to capture one. It took twelve years but finally, I stumbled across a woman right next to our family nest in Naples. Her name was Alessandra and … Remus met the true death before I could bring myself to trap her. She didn't deserve to be subjected to our cruelty, she was an artist with the right to be free. I let her escape on a ship and never saw her again."
"Christ," Pam muttered. "Not you hiding things too."
"I know my place and how our family operates its bloodlines," Vincenzo responded. "I am third-in-command. I receive limited information to protect the top of the hierarchy should I be questioned. And I must be one hundred percent certain in my observations if I am to engage with the boss on sensitive matters above my position. Otherwise, I mention it to no one. I have high confidence in what Grace is, she reminds me very much of Alessandra. But I am not absolutely certain. I didn't want to be wrong and … disappoint you."
In other words, get killed for it. The way their ruthless grand maker used to run things.
Though Eric's anger was rooted in his own self-hatred - if he hadn't been so distant, he would have ruled his roost with a tighter fist and uncovered Louis and Vincenzo's details sooner - he expressed it outwardly by baring his fangs and hovering over Vincenzo's face.
"I am not like the rest of our family," he rumbled to make his point clear. "I want to know your suspicions as soon as you have them, even if you are not fully certain. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sheriff," he confirmed, facing him like a soldier.
"Good." Eric then turned his intense stare to Ludwig. "We operate under the assumption Grace is a siren. Now what?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," the doctor sighed. "I've never treated one before."
"You didn't know what caused Sookie's scratch marks and still healed her," Pam retorted. "Surely you can think of something."
"That was different," Ludwig spat. "Your girl here overdosed hours ago, the Naloxone spray didn't work. So I'm betting the human and siren parts of her are fighting against each other to see if she lives or dies. If she won't accept vampire blood, I'm out of ideas. This seems like some mystical shit."
"So she's just stuck like this?" Louis said in disbelief.
"Until you can figure out what exactly is going on, yes."
"Well - well how are the fuck are we supposed to do that?" the band leader said, exasperated. The reality was finally hitting him. "I'm sure there's tons of research on how sirens and heroin interact. Better yet, we should just ask her, huh? Hey there Gigi darlin', can you tell us what's going on in that little head of yours?"
"Not my problem. Call me when something changes."
There was no way Eric was giving up on Grace that easily. He could still feel their connection pulsing, she was in there.
"Now, now Patricia. You're not leaving until I get my money's worth," he intimidated, stepping towards her with a wicked glint in his eye. "Try more things, do … something. Even if it's a long shot." Dr. Ludwig huffed again and rolled her eyes.
"Fine. But you're wasting your time."
The dwarf dug into her bag of odds and ends and pulled out several alternate treatment options. Eric began to aggressively pace; he couldn't watch or sit still. As predicted, each of Ludwig's attempts failed and Grace remained unresponsive on the couch. Finally, she pushed her glasses up and glared at the Sheriff.
"That's my sixth Hail Mary. Nothing's working here, Northman." He stopped in his tracks but couldn't face her. "As I said, call me when something changes."
This time, he didn't bar her from leaving. The four vampires remained silent, avoiding each other's stares as the sound of the front door slamming echoed throughout the living room. Eric resumed his pacing, not wanting to admit defeat. No one said anything for several minutes.
"Alright, I'll be the one to ask. How fucked are we?" Louis sighed. He didn't mean to draw Eric's temper but became an easy target. The Viking needed to let off some steam.
"We'd be less fucked if you reported your conversation with Grace right after it happened," he growled, taking the band leader by the throat and shoving him against the wall. "Don't think I forgot about that."
"I wasn't going to send her to her death," Louis challenged, his fangs dropping.
"I would never kill her."
"You were stalking the shit out of her, what was I supposed to think? Nah, I wasn't going to risk it. She's too precious to lose."
Eric gnashed his teeth as jealousy clouded his thoughts.
"She is not yours. If you touched her -"
"I ain't done nothing of the sort, I'm talking about her art, man -"
"For fuck's sake, put your dicks away already," Pam interjected, putting a hand on her hip. "She's still stuck, what are we going to do now?"
"Maybe there's nothing we can do," Vincenzo added softly. "It could be all up to her."
His statement caused a harrowing feeling of powerlessness to overtake Eric's anger. The Sheriff grunted before letting go of Louis and his eyes landed back on Grace, watching her struggle as their bond trembled again. His lover's breath unexpectedly hitched and Eric quickly found himself on his knees at her side and entering another phase of grief after shock and anger.
Bargaining.
He couldn't go through such a loss again; he wasn't sure he could continue to exist while carrying the pain of her death alongside Godric's. The hole within him would be too big. Blood tears began to prickle in his inner eyes and his mind went back over his actions towards Grace and his many mistakes. Rejection and force hadn't worked before, but he was willing to try anything now to help her survive. But he didn't know what that would be.
"You do know, my child," a familiar voice said with a hint of a smile. Eric looked up to see his maker standing behind the couch, looking down at them like an angel. For the first time, the Viking felt a sense of calm from his presence.
"No, I don't," he croaked.
"Ummmm, who's he talking to?" Louis whispered.
"Shut it," Pam said, elbowing him in the side. "Leave him be."
"Love her, Eric," Godric reminded him. "Have faith."
"H-how?" he stuttered. "When she is like this?"
"You must let go of your ego and let it die alongside her. For with death, there can be rebirth. You know that as a vampire. It is not something to fear, it is the opportunity for transition. It will bring space for a new beginning. Every creature goes through many cycles of life and death in this way during their existence and it is true with love as well." Godric sighed deeply. "I know it is difficult for you to unlearn all I have taught you and face your wounds. But hear me now. Let it die and trust where love can take you. Give her your heart and see what she chooses."
His soldierly instincts told him to continue to run from the pain and fight against his maker's words. Death was a curse and a punishment, not a blessing. His mind had been warped and molded to endure that fact like a gnarled old tree trunk that had grown over a hole with the bullet still inside. But Eric looked at Grace's face again and was overcome. If this was really it, then he owed her more. He had to try; she was still so young at twenty-seven. Godric's words hit home and the Sheriff grew tired of carrying such a painful weight. It was time to let go and face his fear and grief. So be it if ego death was needed to cleanse him of it.
He loved her. There was no denying that anymore; he embraced it. Yes, it hurt, but it was all worth it, even if this was the end. He wept softly as his heart began to break open and a tear finally escaped from his lashes and dribbled down his cheek. It landed on Grace's arm and her body jolted upwards as if shocked. Eric drew back slightly in surprise.
"What the fuck was that?" Pam murmured.
"She's reacting to you," Louis observed. "She did it earlier, do it again."
Eric's fingers touched his face and rubbed some of his blood away. He looked at it in a new light before putting his hand on Grace's arm. She jerked again, her chest arching upwards like someone had put a defibrillator on her chest. He felt her heartbeat start to flutter but it sputtered shortly after.
Give her your heart and see what she chooses.
At first, he took it figuratively, but as Eric looked up to see Godric nodding and smiling at him, he realized that as a vampire, he could physically give it to her as well through the healing powers of his blood. Louis's earlier attempt didn't work, but it was possible that his essence wasn't the remedy Grace needed. Their connection pulsed again and Eric welcomed another fact instead of running from it.
Grace was his bonded. Her aura had brought out his life force and shown him that he had a soul. It had been there all along - even through the atrocities he'd committed - but she'd unearthed it and given it a chance to grow. Now it was time to give the same opportunity back to his soul's true mate. The vampire gently bit his wrist and drew more of his blood. He placed his wound next to her lips and poured his entire essence - physically, emotionally and this time definitely spiritually - into her mouth. The blood flowed and so did his own intangible glow alongside it.
"Please Grace. Choose to come back." He didn't feel ashamed to admit the next part in front of the others. "I love you."
Eric withdrew his wrist and everyone held their breath, waiting for something to happen. It was the longest minute of the Viking's existence. Yet suddenly, Grace's eyes flew open and she shrieked as her body lurched forward and she came out of her coma. She gasped for breath like someone who'd recently been drowning.
She was alive … but Eric could sense she was no longer human.
Author's note: Oh man. Ohhhhhh man. No song lyrics, I hope you spied the metaphor that explained why! I tried to make the title just '*' but it wouldn't let me. Also, I wrote out and trashed so many ways to end this chapter … but couldn't find it in myself to write a true cliffhanger. I said no main character deaths but you know, death is a subjective thing in this fandom ;)
But now I can finally start speaking to the Woman Who Run With the Wolves references in more detail! Eric's journey is based on the Inuit Skeleton Woman myth and Estes' commentary on how men can address their wounds through the cycle of life/death/life to become better, stronger lovers. All the bits about minding his own business and then being 'hooked' to Grace, running away despite their tie and the transformational power of his tears/heart are direct references to that myth. So yeah! That's what I've been building towards this whole time to springboard into what's next in Act III. I wanted to play out a slower descent into Eric being in love. Season 4 was cute but I wish it was more natural than just a spell that made him 'brain dead' for a while.
I'll explain Grace's myth inspirations at the end of the next chapter after you spend some time in her head ;) As for the timing, it'll be a bit longer than my normal cadence. It will be an emotional ride for me to write but I also want to go back and edit some of the earlier chapters to smooth over some details and add a bit more foreshadowing so the plot lines up nicely with what I'm cooking up. No major storylines/events will be different, just small tweaks. So please, I would love your feedback on things that were confusing or maybe a little jarring. Constructive criticism is welcome!
Ok, but also, I have to ask … how many of you were Vincenzo with pretty certain suspicions about Grace's supe type, you just didn't say anything? Please let me know in a review! I tried to dance around it for as long as possible while dropping many hints. Curious to see how y'all felt!