9

The Tale of the Northman

Here is the next chapter, everyone. I hope that y'all enjoy it. I have now posted all of the chapters that had already been written. Now I have to write the chapters as I go along. I will still post a chapter each week but it will vary based on my caseloads at work. I just wanted to let y'all know that I'll get them posted once they've been edited and are ready for reading. I hope that this one isn't filled with errors. I hope that y'all enjoy.

The story idea is mine but the characters belong to Charlaine Harris.

To say that I was intrigued at the very idea that I was going to learn about Eric Northman's past is an understatement. There were no words that could describe what I was feeling or what I was going to be feeling. I just know that I wanted to learn everything that I possibly could about the vampire with whom I'd be spending most of my nights. But it was more than that. I wanted to get to know him. I wanted to know his likes and his dislikes. I wanted to know what makes him happy … what makes him angry. I wanted to know everything that he's ever done. I wanted to know everything that he's ever seen. I am completely fascinated with him. I, for one, couldn't believe that I was going to learn some of the history of Eric Northman. So, to get the ball rolling, I did what I had to do.

I put the coffee pot, sugar, and creamer on the table. I took Gran's famous pecan pie out of the fridge and put that on the table. Grandpa cut the slices as I put the saucers and forks out. I put out the napkins and poured the coffee. He cut the pie. The closer we got to finishing the setting of the table, the more my heart began to pound in my chest. I could actually hear my heart beating in my ears. It was actually beating in my ears!

As he put the slices of pie on the saucers, I glanced around the kitchen. "Is that everything? We don't need anything else, do we?"

Grandpa stared down at the table as he shook his head no. "I think we're ready." He looked at me and motioned for me to take my seat. "Let's get this little history lesson on the road," he said as he rubbed his hands together.

I was seated and waiting.

Grandpa sipped at his coffee and nibbled at his pie. Gran makes the best pecan pie in the free world but I didn't want her pie tonight. I wanted to know what grandpa was going to tell me but he was taking his sweet time as he nibbled at his pie. He's good for that … lollygagging. Though I'm used to him doing that, I wanted to scream at him and tell him to hurry up but I didn't. When he is lollygagging, he's trying to figure out how he's going to start the conversation and that means it's going to be one heck of a conversation.

"He was born many, many years ago," Grandpa began. "He is born from a long line of fighters … warriors … a king. His father was one of the greatest kings of his time. When I say that he was great king, I don't mean that he was a great man. His kingdom was rich in every way imaginable … crops, livestock, fighters. That in turn, made his kingdom great but not him. He wasn't a giving king or father. Erick was his father's only son … and he was most irresponsible." He began to chuckle as he talked. "Eric loved the ladies. He always has." He made sure to make eye contact with me when he shared that bit of information.

I could see that. The women and the men that come to Fangtasia were really throwing themselves at him. I can only imagine what the women of his time would do just to get his attention. He was a prince after all but I've not seen Eric behave in a horndog kind of way. He's not like my brother, Jason. He's different than that. He's not into getting into as many pairs of panties in one night as possible. Well, at least he doesn't seem to be. Since meeting him, he's been nothing but kind and polite to me. I wanted to say as much but I didn't speak a word. I let my grandpa carry on with his tale of The Northman.

"His father, King Ocella, was not a great man. His subjects hated him." Grandpa chuckled. "They despised that man. When his people were starving, he was eating like the king that he was. When his people was freezing and dying from the winter cold in their hutches, he was as warm as summertime in his expansive home." He then shook his head. "He was cruel for no reason, Sookie. Even his wife despised him."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing about Eric's dad. He sounded like a tyrant. How could a man like that raise a son like Eric? And then it dawned on me. Maybe my grandpa was telling me these things to warn me away from Eric. Maybe he could tell that I was beginning to feel something for Eric and he wanted to let me know what I was getting myself into.

But he could be wrong. I'm not going to let my grandpa decide what type of vampire Eric is. That's a decision that I'm going to make on my own.

"But his son," grandpa began. "His son was a different type of man. The townspeople loved Eric. They admired him. They revered him. Eric would take food from his father's sheds and go from house to house to make sure that each family received their fair share. He figured that they'd worked in the fields all day so they earned it. They'd earned the right to eat. Eric would stand by the sides of his subjects and he would go out into the forests with his broad axe and chop down trees so that they could have heat. He would skin the hides from bears to make sure that the women and children were clothed and warmed during the winter months." He smiled. "Eric, he was one of the good ones."

And just like that, something clouded over my grandpa's eyes. "What is it?" I asked.

"This is where the story changes," he said. "Eric was one of the good ones. He always has been. His father hated him for it. He wanted Eric to be like him. He wanted the people to fear his son; not love him. He didn't want them to revere him. He believed that fear garnered respect. And because he believed that, he tried terrorizing his son. The things that he would do to that man would chill even the devil. Though he tried his best to break Eric, he failed."

My heart dropped to my feet. I couldn't imagine anyone doing anything to hurt Eric. Even as a vampire, he seems to be of good spirit. Well, at least to me it seemed that way. He'd been nothing but kind to me. A bit sneaky and underhanded but … that's okay. He'd done nothing to me that would make me want to punish him or hurt him. I could tell by the look in my grandpa's eyes, I didn't want to know what he'd done to Eric. And he was right. I didn't want to know.

"Ocella's wife would always defend her son. She would protect him as best she could. It didn't matter to her if she'd have to suffer at the hands of her husband just as Eric had. She accepted that as her fate. She was a Valkyrie but in human form many have said. She knew that Eric was destined to do great things and it was her mission to keep him safe for as long as she could." Grandpa sighed. "She always believed that her son would die on the battlefield. She always told him that he would not die at the hands of the most sinister man alive. She told him that he would die a glorious death. A hero's death. The true death of a Viking."

"She loved him," I whispered.

"Dearly," he said.

"What was her name?"

"Svava." He began to look out into nothing as he thought of her. "She was the most beautiful woman in the village. Everyone believed her to be a Valkyrie. Some even asked her. She would laugh off the absurd questions as she batted her baby blues at them, as the wind lovingly fluffed her hair over her shoulders."

I scooted to the edge of my seat. "Would she even answer their question?"

"She did without saying a word," he replied. "From what my father told me, she was an amazing creature."

"Are there any portraits left of her in this world?" I asked. "I know that kings and queens used to pose for portraits. I hope that there's something left of her in this world. I'd love to see what she looked like ... as a human. Did your father have any mementos of her?"

He shook his head no. "Nothing."

I flopped back in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest. "That sucks." And I, too, sighed. "So, what did she do to save Eric from his father?"

"While Ocella was away at sea, she had her brothers come for him. It was hard for her to do but she knew that she had no other choice. There was no way that Eric would have survived another brutal beating at his father's hands. As I said, Ocella was quite cruel. So," he said. "Her brothers took him to their homeland. He stayed there until his father's death. He died three years later in battle. And Sookie, after his death, there was an all-out war. His father was such an awful man, that when he died, he left Eric nothing in his will. People began to fight over the land. He'd rather have left his wife and son with nothing as punishment."

"His subjects were fighting over his land?" I asked.

"Not them," he clarified. "People from different countries came in to take that land. It was very prosperous. He had the richest land in the country. Ocella was a very wealthy man but he was too greedy to even pass it on to his son."

"What about his wife?" I asked. "Why didn't he leave it to his wife? Did he love her at all?"

"For fear that she would let Eric have total and complete control." Grandpa looked disgusted. "As I told you, he hated his son. I'm not sure that man even knew what love is."

"Jerk," I said. "What happened to Svava?"

Grandpa looked down at his hand before he looked at me. "She was tortured within an inch of her life by the new tyrant that came in to take her queendom from her. Eric and her brothers found her near death in her home. She was almost unrecognizable."

My hand instantly went to mouth as to stifle my cry. I could only imagine what grandpa meant by tortured; especially in those time. "That poor woman," I whispered. "Did she tell him what happened?"

"There was no need," he said. "They were made aware of what was happening before they returned to Eric's homeland. She wasn't too far gone though. The woman of her land took proper care of her as they waited for her son and brothers to arrive. She had enough strength and fight in her to tell her son to avenge her. She told him that this was his chance to have a glorious death and when it was time, she would be waiting for him. She would lead him home to Valhalla."

My heart began to pound in my chest. I was almost too excited for my own good. The idea of Eric dying on the battlefield and fighting for his mom was glorious. The idea of his mom greeting him in death was outstanding. But my excitement was soon gone because none of what she wanted to happen happened. He didn't die a glorious death. His mom, the Valkyrie, never got to lead him home to Valhalla. He was turned into a vampire. "That didn't happen, grandpa."

He shook his head no. "It did not but he fought as only a Viking can. He went out there on that battlefield with his broad axe and fought to the death. His axe and his body were covered in the blood of his enemies as well as his own. Though he was stabbed with spears and shot with arrows, death did not immediately take him. He continued to fight. He would drop to his knees but his axe continued to swing but he didn't do it alone. He didn't have to fight alone. He was never alone. His uncles and the menfolk of his village, were standing at his side."

That made me proud. His kindness and selflessness was returned to him. "The townspeople were with him?"

"They were," he answered. "They fought with him and they died for him. As I told you, they loved Eric. They admired him and they revered him. His death was written into song."

I was suddenly confused. "You said that he didn't die on the battlefield."

"He didn't but they didn't know that," he said. "His people believed that he made his way to Valhalla. As the battle ended, he bequeathed his kingdom to his eldest uncle but only if he promised to take care of his townspeople as he had. His mother would have had it no other way. And his uncle promised."

"Eric believed him?"

Grandpa nodded. "He did. He had every reason to. The man fought with him. The men in his mother's family were strong and honorable men. Their name was very important to them. They never went back on a promise. He and the last of his male subjects went back to Eric's homeland. His last remaining uncles, Arvid and Daniel, carried him to the forest under the cover of night and laid him to rest under a tree. That is where he was to die. It's where he wanted to die. Eric loved the forest. He loved the trees and cool breeze that the winds would so willingly bestow upon him. He thoroughly enjoyed the peacefulness. He always has. So, on that particular night, he watched the stars as he waited for his mother to come for him."

I began to cry. I didn't want him to die. I couldn't imagine Eric dying … not as a human or a vampire. I know that I don't know him very well but I don't ever want that to happen to him. I know that this is selfish of me but I'm glad that his mom didn't come for him. I never would have met him if she had. "What happened next?"

A smirk was on my grandpa's face as he answered me. "You know what happened. He met his maker. His maker wanted him. His maker killed his uncles and gave Eric the choice of what he wanted. He asked Eric if he wanted to die or if he wanted an eternal life. Can you guess which one he chose?"

I knew that the question was rhetorical but I answered it anyway. "He didn't want to die," I answered immediately. It all came to me in that very moment. "There was more that he wanted to do with his life and he thought that it was over so he'd accepted his fate. His mother's fate. He was willing to die as his mother wanted him to even though that's not what he wanted."

"You got it," grandpa said. "At one time, he believed that he wanted a Viking's death. He believed that he wanted to be greeted at the gates of Valhalla but he was given the opportunity to live eternally. He was told that he could walk this earth for the rest of his days just as long as he lived carefully … smartly. There was no way that he was going to pass up that opportunity. He'd have been a fool."

Now, that surprised me. "I always thought that you believed that the life of the vampire was one of ill repute. Those were your exact words, grandpa. You sound as if given the choice, you would take that chance. Would you do that, grandpa? Would you want to be turned into a vampire?"

"No," he answered unquestionably. "Not ever. I love who and what I am. I am happy and quite delighted with the life that has been given to me. I wouldn't have it any other way." He placed his hand on mine. "Your grandmother, my son, and my grandchildren are the greatest gifts that I have ever been given. I can honestly say that this life is the only life that I've ever wanted to live. And I am grateful."

I reached out and hugged him. "I love you, grandpa. I love you so much."

"As I do you, Sweetie," he said as he patted me on the back.

Just as I released him and returned to my seat, I asked, "Now, tell me why you told me this tale of Eric. I don't understand what this story has to do with me."

"He's a fighter, Sookie and he will keep you protected."

I knew that. I knew that after our first meeting. When that guy touched me a couple of nights ago, Eric came to my defense and he'd only just met me. I'm working for him now so I am quite certain that I have absolutely nothing worry over. "Okay," I said.

I could tell that grandpa didn't like the nonchalant tone to my voice. "You need his protection if you are going to be working in the supe world."

I picked up the contract and said, "I know that. It's all right here. I'm going to be well protected. I know that I'm going to be safe with Eric. I'm not worried. He's promised to be with me at all times. Either him or Pam."

"You should be worried," he said. His eyes are dark orbs and his voice had gone down a couple of octaves. "You are a commodity in this world, Sookie. You will be working with kings and queens. Pack leaders in the Were world and covens of the most powerful witches. Everyone in the supe world will know that you are a telepath."

A commodity?

He must have noticed the look on my face because he continued to talk … and scare the begeezus out of me. "What do you think is going to happen? Did you think that this was going to be an afternoon social at one of your grandma's Glorious Dead meetings? Is that what you thought?" His laugh was menacing. "You are in for a rude awakening, my love. People will kill your family and friends to get to you."

I tried to laugh off his comments but I couldn't do that. Laughter was not an option. Swallowing my tongue, that on the other hand, was all that I could do. None of that had ever occurred to me. It never dawned on me that I'd be putting my family in danger because I wanted to take my place in the supe world. I never thought that part through. It was never a possibility.

"You never thought of that, did you?" grandpa asked.

"No."

He grasped my hands in his. "Forgive me for speaking to you in such a way but you needed to know what you are going to be doing and what you will be risking," he said. "This is what you want. This is your life now."

I nodded. "This is my life now."

He released my hands and slid the contract in front of me. "You haven't signed it yet. You can throw it in the fireplace and I can send you away. Or we can just throw it in the fireplace. Burn it to ash. No one will ever know of what you can do."

"That's not true," I said. "I've already told Eric and Pam. The people in town know. Everyone that knows me knows what I can do."

"No vampire will ever know what you can do," he said.

"What do you …?" I rapidly shook my head no. "No! You can't kill them!"

He shrugged his shoulders as he sat back in his seat. "There is one last choice and it's one that you seriously need to think over."

I was still stuck on my grandpa threatening to kill Eric and Pam. I'm not surprised that he offered to kill them. I've always known that grandpa has killed. He killed these two faeries that came for me one night. Neave and Lochlan were their names. They hated me because I'm a hybrid. He killed them with iron swords. He had to wear gloves but he killed them. He said that full-bloodied faeries are allergic to iron. And he was right. It slid through them like a hot knife cutting butter. They didn't even get a chance to scream. After that night, grandpa ordered me and Gran iron daggers from some supe arms dealer that he's known for centuries. We can't have them around him but we have them just the same. I keep mine in my purse at all times.

So, hearing him say that he'd kill for me was nothing new. He'd already done it. Anyway, I'm not even sure of what he said to me. His mouth was moving but nothing was coming out of it. Nothing that was quite clear. I just know that I said that I'd do whatever I needed to do. I heard him say something about drinking blood and bonding.

"Sookie, do you hear me?" he said.

"I do," I answered.

"If he doesn't give you his blood, if he doesn't bond with you, promise me that you won't sign that contract."

I looked into my grandpa's eyes and nodded.

He banged his fists on the table. "Please!" he said a little louder than normal. "I don't want you nodding at me. Tell me that you will do this for me. I have to keep you safe and I can't do it without you and Eric." Tears welled up in his eyes. "Please." His voice suddenly softened. "I must keep you safe no matter how much it pains me at the thought of vampire blood running through your veins. You have to promise that you will ask Eric to bond with you. You need his blood in you if you want to live."

"I'll do it," I said. "I will ask him to bond with me."

Grandpa dropped his head as he kept his grip on my hand.

All I could think was what was Eric going to say.

What was he going to say?