Warnings: light smut
Song lyrics for this chapter: Summertime by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong
Summertime and the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high
Oh your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'
So hush little baby, don't you cry
Yet Grace suddenly did feel like crying as she backed away from her mic, a distressing feeling creeping into her mood. It was unexpected since singing always put her in a better headspace, but the mentality wasn't entirely unfamiliar. It had been slinking on the edge of her thoughts for months now, just out of reach for her to truly pinpoint what was causing it.
Louis, on the other hand, was unaware of her reaction to the song he'd picked for them to record. He smiled to himself, let his fingers wander the piano keys and took the next verse.
One of these mornings
You gonna rise up singin'
Yes, you spread your wings
And you take to the sky
But till that morning
There is nothin' can harm you, yeah
With daddy and mommy standin' by
She didn't anticipate how the rest of the lyrics would affect her, for when it was her turn to resume the famous Fitzgerald and Armstrong duet, Grace was surprised to feel the uneasiness quickly morph into an overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety. A force smashed into her; she was dizzy like she'd had too much booze and it went straight to her head, even though she'd been sober for months. She opened her mouth to sing but no sounds came out. She instead fell back into her chair, mute and unable to comprehend what was happening.
Louis immediately stopped playing, threw off his headphones and jumped up from his piano bench. He touched her shoulder but dropped his hand when she twitched in response. He sat back on the bench and observed her.
"You alright, darlin'?" he asked gingerly. Grace opened her mouth to say something but still couldn't quite communicate.
Existential dread. That was the best way she could explain what was going on, but even then, it didn't fully encapsulate the tremors she felt cascading down her limbs and the tight feeling in her chest. It was hard to breathe and she placed one hand over her heart to help steady her pounding pulse while the other pulled off her headphones. Tears spilled down her cheek.
It was all too much. Grace closed her eyes and slowly counted to ten, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves and get to a place where she could speak again. She was alive, she kept telling herself, despite all the uncertainties fluttering around her head. Death was not imminent, although she couldn't shake the feeling that it was closer than she would have liked.
The siren was too wrapped up in herself to hear her phone buzzing on the table beside her. Louis gulped once he noticed the name flashing on the screen and slid it onto her lap. She opened her eyes, wiped away some of her tears and saw it was Eric. He must have felt her reaction through their bond.
"I'm fine," she breathed after swiping to answer his call. She said it for his benefit, as well as her own.
"That didn't seem fine." Grace winced at the slight bite in his tone. "Are you in danger?"
"No. I'm in the house. Louis is with me." She felt silly explaining things to him over the phone since he was in the middle of presiding over his subjects and doling out punishment for recent Area 5 crimes. He'd be occupied all evening, unable to see her. "I'm fine, go back to work. Seriously. Jazz does this to me sometimes."
He could tell she was holding something back but didn't push it. At least, he didn't unload his frustration directly to her.
"Put Louis on," he growled. Grace's lips formed a thin line as she handed over the phone and resumed counting to ten again.
"Yeah, boss? … Woah ok, no, it's just us … no, of course not … We were recording something in her little house studio for fun, she just started reacting like this all of a sudden … no … No. Don't send her. We're ok … yes … yeah, ok. Alright … I'll do a sweep and tell her … Yes, Sheriff. I understand."
The vampire hung up and tried to catch her eye, but Grace avoided his gaze. Louis sighed and zipped out of the room, only to return moments later to announce that the coast was clear and nothing lurked outside in the shadows. He communicated the same to Eric, and while the news made the singer feel better, she still felt gloomy and morose. Because something else was tugging at her heartstrings, something she couldn't quite get a handle on yet.
"What are you supposed to tell me?" she sighed.
"He wants me to honestly ask you what's happening and record your answer. He'd rather hear it directly from you than through me."
The knee-jerk, molten anger that had plagued her for most of her life suddenly appeared again. What the hell? How fucking stupid had their lives become? Was this really it, now that it was July and the days were longer? And Eric's work didn't lessen despite the shorter nights, leaving them stretched and distant? He couldn't even come to console her, she had to leave him a shitty voice note or whatever to actually connect with him. Is that what they were reduced to? She was just his bird in a cage who longed to be free while he got to do whatever he wanted?
But her thoughts softened when she felt Eric send support and longing through the bond. He knew he couldn't be here and this was his attempt to still be by her side. He was doing his best, given their circumstances. And he wasn't doing whatever he wanted. She knew he hated being Sheriff, especially under Bill's reign; although he had more freedom, it was still a form of torture and punishment in its own right. He was trapped in Shreveport, just as she was.
Another fresh trickle of tears dribbled down her cheek as she berated herself for being so reactive. Louis reached out and grabbed Grace's hand, which busted open the floodgates even further. She collapsed into his chest and sobbed desperately, unable to hold back that classic feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff and looking down at the dangerous rocks below, wondering when she would fall and what it would feel like. Coupled with the uncertainty of what would be the thing to finally push her over the edge.
"Come on, let's step outside, yeah?" Louis eventually suggested. Grace's lips quirked downward.
"Too muggy, I need AC. Let me roll a smoke and then we'll … do the thing or whatever."
The singer sluggishly wandered out of the makeshift recording studio and into the living room, Louis following closely behind until he split off to the kitchen to grab some bagged blood. She plopped onto the couch and reached under the coffee table to pull her new supplies from the bottom shelf. Grace had tired of tobacco weeks ago and switched to an herbal smoking blend instead after growing the ingredients in her backyard - another project to pass the time, to fill her empty days now that she wasn't on stage. She hoped one day she could try cannabis again - after all, it was plant medicine - but she wasn't sure if she was ready for it yet.
Once she ground up the rose, clove, skullcap, marshmallow, mullein and lavender mixture, twisted it between paper and licked the seam, Grace put the antidote in her mouth and lit the end. She inhaled deeply and melted back into the couch, putting the ashtray next to her so she didn't have to move. Louis settled on the armchair next to her, sipped from his bag and waited to see her next move.
"I'm sorry you're in the middle of this," Grace lamented. "You may hear some stuff you don't want to know."
"Sugar, I've been in it since the day you told me you had powers," he chuckled. "I'm not leaving your side. Despite whatever I may have said in anger, you are special."
The tears threatened to spill again as she remembered their fight before she'd fled to Texas. She sniffled, wiped her nose on her sleeve and took another drag. Eric pushed another wave of comfort over their bond from afar.
"Let's get this started then, shall we?"
Louis chuckled, pulled out his iPhone, opened a voice recording app, hit start and placed the phone on the coffee table between them. His tone then turned somber.
"Now, what just happened Grace?"
She paused and took another drag. He took a sip.
"I wasn't kidding before, jazz can do this. It puts me in some sort of mood, you know?" Louis nodded, he understood the power music had over the mind. "Like put on some Billie Holiday and I'm just done, thinking about death and all. Even when I'm in a good mood."
"But we weren't doing Billie. This was Ella and Louis … and you were singing that nothing could harm you."
"I know that, I've got a vampire Sheriff and bodyguard squad looking out for me." She would have winked at Louis if she had a better attitude, acknowledging his part in her safety. Instead, she took another puff, exhaled deeply and looked up at the ceiling. "But I may be too protected for my liking."
"You can leave this house, you don't have to stay here twenty-four seven. In fact, I know you get out."
"I know. I know. But that's not what I mean … Fuck, what even do I mean?"
"Sometimes a stream of consciousness is the best place to start."
"Are you a therapist in your spare time, huh?"
"Ha! No, no. It's what I did when I was a baby vamp and trying to explain my cravings to someone who wasn't my maker. The fucker left me in the cold to figure things out."
"Oh. That must have been tough. I can't even imagine."
"Grace … this isn't about me, now." He nodded towards the phone, guiding her to remember Eric's request.
Right, she chided herself. She'd done enough stalling. The singer took another drag and upon her exhalation, took Louis's advice and spilled anything and everything that came into her head.
"Ok, well, here it goes … Now I know I can leave the house. And I do. But … I'm supposed to keep to the shadows and lay low so no one realizes what I've done. What Eric's done to cover it up - what you, Pam and Vincenzo have done to help him. That's hard to carry in itself. But it's not just that."
She stopped to feel the weight of her statement.
"I don't know if I'm entirely bored out of my skull yet. I'm biding my time, I find things to do. And fuck, I'm creating so much art - this house is full of it. It's the brightest thing in my life and it's so nice to create for creation's sake instead of doing it to scrape by a living. I feel like I have a true residency, a patron … Oh that sounds bad." She leaned over towards the phone. "Eric, you know you're more than that to me. But I don't know how else to describe it." She huffed before taking another drag and leaning back into the couch. "I had to beg Vincenzo to take more of my paintings because I ran out of space for them. But … I feel lonely sometimes. I'm used to having more community in my life."
The tightness in her chest slowly abated the more she talked.
"When I first moved to LA to get my start, I chased whatever connection I could to get ahead. And after a while, I had something. A community of sorts. Even if it was spread out and distant, I had anchor points that I could float between during the hustle. And I had the crowd. I know that's a bit selfish to say, but dude." She closed her eyes and bit her lip, remembering old sensations. "They fed me even before I had powers. Their attention was everything. The more I performed - especially at Fangtasia - the more I craved their attention. And now that I don't have it anymore, that ol' itch is back. I find myself seeking it."
"Mmmhmmmm, fame," Louis nodded between sips. "I know that feeling well, most performing musicians do. Keep it going girl, you're on a roll." Grace took another drag before continuing.
"But I can't have it. I know I do have the four of you and I look forward to every visit I get …"
Silence fell over them and her mood started to plummet. Now that she was more comfortable sharing her thoughts, she couldn't stop the train in motion. It started to go a bit off the rails.
"But then I feel like a burden … all of you look after me, but you have your own lives outside of me, you know? And you're not even awake during the day, so it really is just me. I want to reach out, but I find myself holding back. I need to learn to rely on myself and you're all busy anyways … so I just do 'siren shit' or whatever to keep myself sane. But how much can it really sustain me? I miss my social life." She took another drag, nearing the end of her cigarette. "… And you want to know the worst part? I'm actually fine with the fact that I need to distance myself from my family. I don't even know how to touch that one. I really should confront my Mom and tell her everything that happened but she's the Queen of avoidance. Any time a conversation gets heavy, she can't handle it and deflects. So what, I'm just going to tell her I'm a siren now and I know she could become one too if she'd followed our ancestor's call? Pffffft! That wouldn't go well. It'd be too painful and … just tragic. I can't deal with it. She called me the other day and I ignored it. It was too damn easy. I don't want -"
The dizziness returned; a shiver ran down her spine. It was hard to breathe again and Grace grabbed the couch to steady herself, the cigarette falling out of her hand.
"Oh fuck. Fuuuuuck."
"What?" Louis asked nervously, quickly dealing with her cigarette so she didn't have to.
"She called me because it was my birthday. I forgot it even happened - cuz I don't get those anymore, do I? I'm immortal, forever twenty-seven." A huge sob escaped her lips. "I joined that fucking club after all."
Her words sunk in, fueling a deeper spiral. More despair poured out of her mouth as her stomach twisted into knots.
"Oh God. We said this scenario was supposed to be temporary, right? Right? That was always the plan. We're waiting for things to settle, but it's been months. So is this it?" A crazed look appeared on her face. "I figured by now, something would have changed - a shift so I could live out in the open. But I don't know how that would happen with the Authority and Bill in the picture. And who the fuck knows when those two forces will go away, especially the Authority. Eric's been stuck here since the 80s under their thumb and that's nothing … maybe this is all my life will be for the next five hundred years. I'll just be here. In fucking Shreveport. Trapped."
"Hey, hey!" Louis said, waving his hand to get her attention and knock her out of her vortex. But Grace, in the middle of hyperventilating, felt her vision blur with tears again and ignored him. He wrapped his arms around her and she remained frozen against him, her breaths ragged and panicked. She didn't calm down until she felt another soothing push from Eric; she couldn't help but nestle into Louis' cold body, wishing it was her lover instead.
"I'm sorry," she whispered once she regained her composure. Louis released her but still kept his hands on her shoulders.
"It's alright, darlin'," he reassured, looking her right in the eyes so she knew he meant it. "You're alright now."
Grace nodded solemnly; the band leader dropped his hands after giving her a comforting pat. A part of her wanted to throw in the towel after such a wild confession - or whatever else you would call that meandering outburst. She was drained and not in the mood to bare her soul any further. But Grace knew she couldn't end the communication there; that's not all she wanted Eric to hear. There was still more to explain.
"I'm privileged, I know it," she said, pushing herself to continue. "I don't have to worry about money and that's a big deal. And more than just money, he makes me feel secure in many ways. He loves me. And I love him." She turned to the phone, needing to make something abundantly clear. "Don't you think I regret it, either. I'm yours. I have been ever since I first laid eyes on you. I know what it took for you to accept that and we're not going backward now, alright?" She shuddered at the thought of losing him and returned to Louis. "And I have Pam, Vincenzo - and you! The greatest musician, you've taught me so damn much."
She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "I'm supposed to have this great life! I have a soul mate, I'm bringing back my bloodline's honor, I've stayed sober this whole time … and yet here I am, still struggling."
"You're allowed to, honey," Louis replied. "Suffering isn't just for the living, you know."
Grace let out a soft laugh before unleashing her deepest sigh yet.
"Alright, I'm done now. Shop's closed, goodnight. I have to wind down - like tea, then bed."
"Bed, you sure?"
"Yeah. We can record another time, I'm drained. Night Eric, I'm fine now, I swear. I love you. I'm sending you a sign now so you know it."
"Alright then," Louis said just before he tapped to stop the audio recording. Grace savored the loving feeling she'd sent to Eric - closing her eyes, putting a hand to her chest and humming softly as she felt him send something in return - before focusing her attention on the band leader again. He didn't make any movements and stared back at her.
"... He doesn't want you to leave, does he?"
"No ma'am," Louis chuckled. "I'll stay 'till sunrise. And I would even if he didn't ask."
"I'm still going to bed."
"And I won't fight ya on that."
She playfully rolled her eyes and went to the kitchen to make tea. Louis followed behind and matched her mood, remaining silent as Grace flipped on the electric kettle, picked out a mug, fixed her sleepytime blend and settled back into the living room. The pair sat on the couch - still not speaking but enjoying each other's company nonetheless - until she was done and waved him goodnight. After stripping off her clothes, the siren got into bed and quickly fell asleep, exhausted.
Her eyes fluttered open later in the afternoon. Her body was heavy and she felt a lethargic, emotional hangover from unloading so much the night before. But even after taking her sweet time to get up, Grace could still catch her favorite time of day: the golden hour just before sunset. She forced herself out of bed, threw on a full length green kaftan with nothing underneath and opened the velvet blinds to reveal the pastel sky. She exhaled deeply and leaned against the window frame before inhaling again, appreciating the sun's lingering rays and finding she needed more of them. The feeling led her to step out into the humid air and raise her hands to the sky in surrender.
The singer stayed that way until the sun dipped below the horizon; she let out a trilling howl once it was fully gone to celebrate the transition into night. The act took some of the weight from her shoulders and she exhaled away more of the heavy feeling. However, it didn't leave completely. Grace still carried the gloom with her as she returned to the house. No one would be over that night to help her with it either, so she'd have to resort to her art again to get through it.
Same old, same old.
Yet, once the sky relinquished its colors and faded into darkness, she heard a screech of tires and felt a familiar warmth spread through her nervous system, which only meant one thing.
Eric.
He was supposed to be at Fangtasia. She tried to melt into the couch so he wouldn't find her right away when he inevitably came in, a swell of embarrassment washing over her. Oh God, she didn't mean to make him skip work. She wasn't that insane; it was just an outburst, she was fine and could handle herself until he was done with his Sheriff duties. But the door never flew open. Instead, Grace heard a loud honk. Her brows furrowed as she floated to the front window, pushing back one of the shades to peer out into the night.
She never expected to see a vintage dark grey CJ-7 Jeep with blood red seats and huge offroading tires in the driveway. The backseat was packed - a tarp thrown over whatever was back there and secured to the roll cage bars - and a winch system was on the front bumper. But Eric's smirk disarmed her the most. He was positively radiating charm and assurance.
"The fuck?" Grace muttered to herself before cautiously wandering out onto the porch. She was still ashamed and bit her lip, deciding not to go further but drinking in the fantastic car regardless. Damn him and his amazing collection of toys. His ride was much more exciting than her beat-up equivalent, parked not too far away.
He tilted his head, beckoned her with his heated stare and patted the front seat. "Get in."
Shit. Although she and her red wig had him wrapped around her little finger lately, he still made her weak in the knees when he got seductive and dominant. He hadn't even switched off the engine, he likely wouldn't take no for an answer. But she wasn't ready to yield quite yet, not when he was being reckless.
"Why aren't you at work?" Grace prodded. "Won't someone notice?"
"Wrong questions," he purred.
"Fine," she said, lightly crossing her arms over her chest. "What's this then?"
"We're going somewhere."
"That's descriptive."
"Get in and find out."
His devil-may-care smirk grew and her breath hitched; her resistance melted the more he looked at her with such an alluring, hungry expression. She knew she was going to lose this fight when he was laying it on so thick because unlike the early days of their contract negotiations, she found herself enjoying it immensely. When Eric Northman wanted something, he got it and fuck, it felt good to be wanted.
"Give me a second, I need to change," she said, turning back to the door.
"No."
The singer paused. Gone were the thoughts of same old, same old; his insistence was enticing. Her mischievous side perked up amid her melancholy and desperately wanted to play his game.
"But I'm practically naked," she protested, throwing him a look over her shoulder and batting her eyelashes.
"Just the way I want you," he leered, anticipation dripping from his tone. "Now get in."
Oh she would, there was no questioning that anymore. But this time she challenged him just for the hell of it, to see how far she could push him and what else he might do to convince her.
"Let me at least get my purse together. I'll need the essentials."
"Must I repeat myself again, lover?" He paired the words with a tantalizing burst of desire over their bond and Grace felt a giggle involuntarily escape her lips as she closed her eyes and reveled in the pleasure of it all.
"Alright, alright," she finally submitted. "I'm coming."
Eric's greedy stare followed her as she moved to slip on her rundown house shoes, which were thankfully sitting on the front porch. She leisurely made her way towards the car and it was easy for Grace to hop in the front seat since his particular model didn't have any doors, being a civilian descendant of World War II Jeeps. She quickly settled into the space next to him while he fiddled with his iPod, connected to the stereo through a tape deck adaptor. Unlike his other toys, she noticed this car showed signs of wear and tear with a few dings on the body.
He made his music selection, popped the clutch, hit the gas pedal and sped off into the night. A song intro with live audience cheers and weird, slow robot noises poured out of the speakers and she gathered her hair into a bun; the windshield blocked some wind, but it was similar to being in an open convertible like their first date. Grace felt her spirits lift even further as the intro peaked - the now unmistakable sounds of Daft Punk's 'Robot Rock' blasting around her - and Eric shifted into a higher gear.
"The Alive 2007 album?" she laughed. "I didn't show you this."
"You didn't have to," he grinned, his eyes still on the road. As he weaved past slower cars and made his way onto I-49 North, Grace turned up the volume, melted back into her seat and delighted in the simple pleasure of taking a drive with good music. With the added benefit of knowing that Eric, a vampire who admitted he didn't care for music before meeting her, had picked said fantastic selection all on his own. It meant the world to her, given that sharing and associating meaning to music was one of her love languages.
Since it was a live album, each Daft Punk banger blended seamlessly into the next and she felt like a wicked bat out of hell, enthusiastically dancing in her seat and losing track of time, distance or any cares in the world, really. It was glorious … until she saw a sign welcoming them into Arkansas.
"Wait - wait! What are you doing?" she squeaked. Her heart started to race out of fear instead of excitement as they whipped past the border. "We can't just leave your Area!"
Eric shifted gears to pass a slow truck and gave her another smirk instead.
"Trust me, lover," he coaxed, stealing a moment away from the road to give her a pointed look while he placed a hand on her thigh. Grace gulped, initially not wanting to. The pulsing beats made her more on edge rather than at ease and she gripped her seat, her knuckles beginning to turn white. No, this was a bad idea. A very bad idea. And her panicked thoughts got worse once they got to the album's end and silence fell over them. The lack of music sent her on an even bigger loop.
But her doubts softened when Eric sent her a comforting sensation and massaged little circles into her skin. She paused and held onto her inhale momentarily before exhaling slowly. The exercise helped smooth out her breathing pattern and Grace felt a reassuring warmth stir in her chest as her trust materialized.
"Your turn," Eric said gently, nodding towards the iPod. "Pick something."
It was still a dominant command but without the heavy pressure like before. Grace's lips formed a smile - she'd do what he asked because of course he knew the best way to distract her and get her into a better mood - and she moved her thumb, controlling the device's wheel to browse his music catalog. She went to the artists folder and let out a hearty laugh when she saw the first entry.
"I should have known you were an ABBA fan, you crazy Swede." She found he had their entire discography.
"Pam is an ABBA fan, she demands I play it," he corrected. "She even made us follow them on tour through Europe in the 70s. I only said yes because disco brought out particularly … willing crowds."
A striking image of Pam dressed to the nines in a red sequin jumpsuit with teased hair and Eric wearing black flares and a matching slightly unbuttoned shirt flashed through her mind. Both of them had blood running down their mouths, surrounded by dancing humans and flashing lights.
"Please tell me you still have the outfits."
"Somewhere I'm sure," he chuckled.
Excellent, she would ask his progeny to bring them out the next time she came over. Or share pictures, at the very least. That was for damn sure.
"Well," Grace said with a dedicated wave of her hand, "this one goes out to Pam then." She hit the play button and a running disco beat blasted from the speakers, pushing away the uncomfortable silence. One ABBA song flipped over to the next and when 'Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)' took its turn, Grace found that Eric became the man to chase her shadows away, just like the lyrics were calling for.
They zoomed further into Arkansas towards the Oklahoma border, the Sheriff still breaking speed limits and passing slow cars like he was above human law (because in some respects, he was). About an hour and a half later, they entered the Ouachita Mountains and Eric pulled off the main road onto a dirt one. Grace, being a touring musician and a bit of a snob, thought the car was overkill for this terrain since they were more like rolling hills instead of mountains. She'd been to the Rockies, Cascades and Sierra Nevadas; those were mountains, this was still the South. Besides, while the dirt road was becoming quieter and quieter, it still wasn't that bumpy.
But when they came to a stop and the almost full moon and car headlights illuminated a dried-out creek bed with high walls, Grace finally learned why the Jeep was necessary.
"Is this what you wanted to show me?" she asked skeptically. She didn't understand why he wasn't continuing on the road, they hadn't hit a dead end. The landmark was off to the side and didn't look important.
"Hold on," Eric replied, his lips forming another one of his signature smirks. He eased up on the clutch, put it into low gear and turned off the road.
"You're not serious - AHHHHHH!"
He had taken them sideways, crawling up the left wall of the creek bed. Grace looked down at the ground that was terrifyingly close and then up at him, fear pulsing through every bit of her body as he towered over her. And not in the normal way, but because of the angle of their crawl; he would have fallen into her if he hadn't been wearing his seatbelt. But Eric exuded wild joy through their bond, absolutely thrilled as he expertly maneuvered the Jeep through the narrow ravine and further into the forest. The car's tires and shock absorbers were proving their worth but her heart pumped at full speed and she held on to her seat for dear life. Adrenaline coursed through her as they approached an old waterfall, full of scattered boulders and tree branches now that there wasn't any water to wash them away.
"N-no fucking-g way," Grace managed to get out.
Her mate didn't say a word and angled the car up a specific path, already knowing how to navigate the hazards but still managing to collect a ding or two on the car's body. They slowly but surely scaled the landscape and once they got to the top, zipped through a flat patch of trees for a while until Eric's foot shifted to the brake pedal and the Jeep slowed to a stop. His expression turned stern as Grace unclenched her clammy hands and desperately reminded herself to breathe. She'd never done any offroading like that before and it scared the bejesus out of her (but in a good way she was finding).
"Wait here."
He disappeared suddenly to sweep the premises, giving Grace time to adjust. Her heart rate slowed and she regained her senses, noticing the peaceful surroundings. There in front of her was a small lake surrounded by pine, oak and hickory trees; next to the shore, someone had built a tiny one room log cabin. The moonlight reflected across the water and left a mystical trail she wanted to follow.
Eric finished his patrol and appeared next to her, offering his hand. He could feel her bewilderment and she, in turn, experienced his excitement now that the coast was clear.
"Where are we?" Grace asked, putting her feet on the ground and standing with his help.
"A human gave me this square mile of land to settle a debt in 1987. I've since fortified it into an emergency safehouse," he answered. "Now get in."
In a flash, he cast off his clothes and shoes, ran into the water and dove below the surface. He popped up in the middle of the lake, grinning like a madman as he settled into floating on his back and lazily swimming in a circle. The giddy vampire even sprayed water from his mouth to imitate a whale expelling air from its blowhole and it dawned on Grace that he might have needed this break from their current reality as much as she did. He didn't have any of his walls up and let her feel his intense desire to play. It warmed her soul immensely.
"I am Ægir, God of the sea!" he shouted to no one in particular. When she didn't immediately join him, the Viking zipped close to the shore and palmed the lake's surface, splashing water in her direction. She yelped in amusement and thankfully got out of the way before he could get her clothes wet. His audacity tickled her inner troublemaker.
"Are you seriously provoking a real God of the sea?" she guffawed. "That's it, you're getting it!"
She kicked off her shoes, pulled her kaftan over her head and sprinted into the water to tackle him. Eric, of course, avoided her easily with his superhuman speed and Grace stumbled and fell beneath the surface. But she turned the situation to her advantage; she opened her mouth underwater and sang a few syllables without him noticing. A whoosh! of lake water hit the vampire in the chest and took him by surprise. He turned to face her with a sly, predatory look.
"Bet you can't do that again," he taunted.
Grace raised a brow to accept his challenge before she dove back under the surface and closed her eyes to better connect with the medium around her. The siren may not have been able to fully grow her wings yet, but she was still a decendent of Achelous. She'd learned from her ancestor that water was the easiest thing she could control and the liquid bent to her will in ways that living beings did not. Eric, of course, didn't know this and she planned to exploit that fact in her favor.
Yet, her first attempt to hit him missed and she felt a stinging pain briefly zap her flesh; a consequence of her intention not coming true. Grace rose to the surface and used it as motivation to hone her focus. She imitated an alligator - her forehead and eyes the only thing above water - as she watched Eric dart across the lake, trying to evade her attempt before she could make it. But after a minute or so of him dancing around, she found her opening and pounced on his tiny slip of determination. In one lightning fast motion, the singer hit him straight in the chest again.
She cheered in triumph, jumped out of the water and fell back into the lake, happy as a clam. Yet before she could resume her reptile posture and start the next round, Eric chose to go on the offensive. He swiftly ripped Grace out of the water and pinned her against the shoreline, hovering over her with yet another playful smirk.
A pointed remark of "You cheated, you bastard" was on the tip of her tongue … but Grace found herself mesmerized by his smile lines and how a few pieces of his wet blonde hair hung in front of his face. His eyes sparkled and complemented the twinkling stars in the sky behind him, leaving her in complete awe of her mate and how much she absolutely loved him. With her entire being. It shifted the mood and Eric's unbridled enthusiasm faded into a possessive tenderness as he picked up on her emotions. He gently bent down to capture her mouth with his, unable to hold back his own intense attraction any longer.
But they didn't fuck like feral animals, as they were prone to do. No, instead Grace and Eric took their time and her need bloomed with each of his soft, slow kisses. Her nails made their way through his hair and she opened every part of their bond to tell him how much she yearned for his affection and warmth. How much she needed him to take away her anguish from the night before. Grace didn't think she deserved his support earlier but now, naked in this wonderous and natural setting … she craved it.
His fangs popped down with a snick!, his arousal also evident against her thigh. He paused his kiss and let his hand wander down her neck, collarbone, breast and plump hourglass waist. It ended its sentimental journey between her legs, his gaze never leaving hers.
"Please," she begged, shifting her hips upwards to meet him. "Please."
His fingers slipped inside her and languidly moved back and forth, squelching alongside their movements in the mud. Eric kept eye contact and his open mouth hovered over hers, their breaths mingling as Grace mewled and cried out from the pleasure. She felt dazed, almost like she was soaring even though she never left the shore, and when he removed his fingers and replaced them with his hard cock, her exhale shuddered. The slowness of his thrusts only added to how full she felt with him truly inside her.
It was almost too much at first. She wasn't sure if she could balance the ecstasy and vulnerability of their union, how much their souls were intertwining around them. Fuck, he felt so much like home; she'd never experienced such a strong attachment to the feeling, given how much she'd moved around in her life. But Eric held her through it, touching his forehead to hers and closing his eyes so he could better savor the experience alongside her.
"More," she whispered. There was still more to let go. "Please, Eric."
He moved her left leg upwards, nestling her knee closer to her armpit and making more space for him to fill as he rocked into her. Grace's breathing was ragged and messy as she took him - all of him, his many delicious inches - and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She threw her arms around him and pulled him as close as she possibly could; her muscles tensed in anticipation of her climax when he continued his movements and his exhale and light stubble brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck.
It didn't take long for her to release everything, the tension of her built-up arousal snapping alongside her desire to melt and let all of her melancholy go. She broke apart spectacularly. Her back arched as she finished - the stubs of her siren wings emerging from her shoulder blades further than they ever had before and raising her up from the mud - and a sense of freedom and pure weightlessness rose from the ashes of her pain. Eric climaxed not long after, her metamorphosis proving too much for him to handle.
Grace didn't want to let him go as she came down and the exhilarating feelings faded, scared of what might happen when she didn't have him to hold on to. Yet Eric's hands found hers and kissed her fingertips before tenderly placing them back at her sides. That was all it took; the tears from earlier poured down her cheeks and she began to wail, curling into his embrace as he shifted to hold her in his arms. She appreciated what Louis did for her in the moment, but this was what she needed to get over her dread. The whole night, not just the sex. The trip away was a balm for her soul and she realized that her mate must have known it, which was why he'd planned it in the first place and didn't give her the option to resist. The seductive and considerate bastard.
"I love you," she finally whispered. "Thank you."
"I love you too, min liten fågel," he sighed, calling her his 'little bird' in Swedish and squeezing her tighter momentarily. They settled into a brief silence - still wrapped around each other in the mud - before he continued on. "I'm afraid I don't know when we'll be able to return here, for the whole night. Not with the way Bill's behaving lately. But I'd like to."
"How did you do it tonight?" she dared to ask.
"I cashed in a favor for an alibi," he answered. He then threw his head back, gesturing to the Jeep and cabin behind them. "I needed to restock on supplies, I haven't been here since the Great Revelation. And I couldn't trust a day man to do that crawl … besides, I thought you'd enjoy the drive in."
"You were correct on that front," she laughed softly, wiping a few tears off her face and inadvertently replacing them with mud streaks.
"Now we can fly going forward, even home tonight. It'll give us more time." He sighed again before cradling her face and rubbing his thumb over her cheek to clean off the mess. "You asked in the recording, if this was it … I don't know how long this secrecy will last, but Godric taught me that the only constant is change. So I can tell you it won't be this way forever."
"But it could still be over a thousand years," Grace lamented.
"It could," he said truthfully. "That's how long it took for me to punish Russell." Grace shuddered, remembering what he'd told her about the vampire who killed his human family. "But it did happen eventually."
They settled into another silence, Eric holding her closer as she mulled over his words and how much this place was starting to mean to her. Being here with him, like this … it was her paradise. It made her feel alive even though the human part of her was dead.
"I'd like to come back too, as much as we can swing it," she expressed. But she couldn't help needling him a bit to lighten the mood. She'd had enough of the serious. "Even if it's just for a quick game where I beat you again."
"That," he teased, "was beginners luck."
"Mmmmm, I call it skill," she sassed back, playfully patting him on the chest.
"We go again then. So I can show you how wrong you really are, sweetheart."
Eric zipped back into the lake and gave her a 'come hither' motion to encourage her to follow. The siren lowered her head with a heated stare, licked her lips and quickly dove into the water to begin the next round … which turned into many more as the night went on and they forgot about the real world waiting for them when they got back.
But the pair would soon discover how right Godric really was. They just didn't expect it to happen so soon.
Author's note: well, some hurt/comfort for ya! Inspired by the ultimate hurt/comfort smut fic, Games by persephoneselene *bows down*. I had too much fun writing the fluff bits - I hope you enjoyed thinking about disco Eric and Pam as much as I did LOL.
But time to buckle up folks, because we're getting close to the end and next chapter I'm going to start knocking down the dominos I've been setting up all series. It's tiiiiiiiiime. Expect an update in about a month!
Please review, would love to hear from you. I post all my song inspirations for each chapter on Tumblr (like omg 'Help on the Way / Slipknot' by the Grateful Dead was on repeat while writing the end there) but I share Grace's love language - if you tell me what songs you associate with this fic, I will be the happiest number seven ever!