onceaviking: (up)
She opens the door behind her and walk him back inside with her, still kissing him.

She is kissing him.

Just one kiss and he promised her that he would be happy. And now they are raining down on him like the sweetest dew and she is moving back toward the couch (kicking off her slippers on the way) and his hand is touching the soft fabric of her dress and - yes. Yes he is happy.

They settle on the couch and he touches her, almost hesitantly.
Sookie is far more resolute, as she grabs hold of the hem of his top and pulls it off him, grinning a little.

It's the sweetest thing he has ever seen.

Her dress goes too and she lies there in her underwear, all beautiful and radiant and warm and alive.

He leans down and kisses her rib cage.
Then her belly.

Sookie lets her head fall back and moans -
onceaviking: (up)
It's stupid really.

Sookie's friend has come over and she is clearly upset about something. Emotionally wrung out.

And he should. Just have stayed away. Have hidden. Played along with Sookie's 'well, now is not the best time to have a sleep over'.

But he doesn't. And the friend, Tara, freaks, brandishing a poker at him, screaming at Sookie.
Because she betrayed her by letting Eric in. Eric who tortured Lafayette.

And he sees it, the dungeon, the one Pam showed him. Just as clear as if he was standing there.

Because he cannot deny it. He is that Eric too. Was that Eric.

Tara leaves and he asks Sookie, if he really did all of those horrible things Tara said he did. (To others. To Sookie). She confirms it. And then she tries telling him that there is good in him too. That she sees it. That she wouldn't have let him stay if that was not the case.

But he can't unhear the accusations. Unsee the dungeon with its chains.

So he tells her that he sees the beautiful light that shines within her and that he could not bear if he was the one to snuff it. And then he leaves, walking slowly into the darkness of the Louisiana night.

He hears the creak of her screendoor. The sound of a floorboard being stepped lightly on.

"Eric," she says, quietly.
You need not raise your voice when talking to a vampire.

"Don't go."

He turns and she is standing there in the porch lit by the warm light from her kitchen window and her inner glow.

She holds out her hands to him and he returns to her embrace.

To her kisses.
onceaviking: (Sad)
He lies in her bed, talking.


Her face softens as she listens. As she comforts him.

She knows the name too. The vampire.

He can't make it fit; what she says and what people told him in Milliways. Not with the horrid creature he dreamt about.

But he lies in Sookie's bed and when he turns on his side, his back to her, and reaches back, to pull her arm across his body - she holds him as he falls asleep.

She likes the old Eric too.
But maybe she likes this Eric too.
onceaviking: (Sad)
Sookie is sleeping. She is laying on the bed in a flimsy nightdress that somehow makes her seem more naked than her naked skin would have. Clinging to her thighs, her buttocks, her breasts, her hair fanned out on the pillow.

He watches her from the doorway. Half naked.

And then - there is a heavy hand on his shoulder. A cold, heavy hand.

He turns and looks down.

A vampire.

Short and pale with cropped hair and a dark, geometric band tattooed across his clavicle.

"Hello Eric," he says, reaching up to run a finger along Eric's jawline.

It's a gentle touch.

He steps past Eric and walks over to where Sookie lies sleeping. Running a hand up her leg. Leaning down to breathe her scent, face close to her neck.

And then Eric moves, the trance finally broken, rushing to the bedside, pushing the other vampire away.
"Don't touch her," he says, and his voice sounds strange to his own ears. Strained. Pained.

"She is beautiful," the other vampire murmurs and then he continues, in Swedish, "Drink with me. Let us drain her and walk in the sun together."

He is appalled and frightened but his 'no' sounds weak to his own ears.
Still, it enrages the other vampire, who is in front of him in a flash, his fingers closing around Eric's throat. Forcing him to his knees.

Snarling, "You are incapable of love," as if he can hear Eric's thoughts. "You are damned."
"She can redeem me," he whispers.
"You cannot be saved. You are a creature of death, and the living are good for only one thing. And it is not love."

And the vampire lets down his fangs and hisses and he is a frightsome and fearful sight, making Eric's insides go cold and heavy.

"Drink," he orders and Eric tries to tell him no, he really does, but the hand on his neck is so heavy and his fangs throb and it is just easier to go along with it, to let his fangs down, to let the hiss out -

He sits up with a start, alone on the cot.

He rises and walks up the stairs, through the dark house.

Sookie is in bed, obscured by her cozy flannel nightgown.
He stands in the darkness, staring down at her.

She opens her eyes, startled.
"Ah, Eric! What the hell?"

And he says, "I had a bad dream."
onceaviking: (up)
He lies down on the cot as he returns, staring off into space.

A little while passes. Then he hears Sookie enter the house. Her soft footfall. Her breathing.
Her pulse.

She hesitates briefly at the door to the hidey-hole and then she opens it and walks carefully down the ladder.

He doesn't say anything.

"This isn't like you." Her voice is soft. Concerned.

"Yes, it is," he mutters.

"No," she says. "It's not. The real Eric -"
He cuts her off. "I am real." Sounding more hurt than he probably should.

"Yes," she says. "You are. I meant the Eric with his memories." Smiling to herself. "Not much gets him down.
Sure, he's a rascal and a troublemaker, and most of the time, I'd like to slap the smile off his face, but he's a happy vampire."

It's funny how Eric Northman always somehow end up sounding almost likable, when she talks about him.

"I'll never swim in the sun again,"" he says, sounding dejected. "Never feel the heat on my skin. Never see the daylight in your hair."
And he looks up at her. And he means it. Every word.

She casts about for something to say. "Well, the nighttime's not so bad. You still got the stars and the sky."

He cuts her off again, looking away. Don't. I'm not a child."

"I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better," she says, realizing that she means it.

But to him, it sounds almost patronizing and he asks, almost despite himself, "You think I'm weak?"
"No," she says, but he doesn't buy it. Not at all.

"You want the Eric who doesn't feel." The monster. The happy monster.

"It's not that," she says, but she sounds feeble, even to her own ears.
He's sitting up now, right net to her. His eyes are really blue when you're this close.

"If you kiss me," he says, leaning in a little, as if to make sure that only she will hear his suggestion.
"I promise to be happy."


It's a no. It's not a particularly firm no. But then again, she hadn't expected him to say that.
To ask.

"Why?" he says, now with the hint of a smile on his lips. "It's only a kiss."

And then he interrupts himself. "Someone's at your door."

She gets up hurridly, straightening her skirt with suddenly clammy hands. "Don't come up," she says, firmly, before hurrying up the ladder.
onceaviking: (Default)
It's exhilarating, running at full speed through the darkness.
The fairy's blood is lighting his veins on fire, and when he looks down at his arm, he is almost certain he can actually see it, the fairy blood, red and glittering beneath his skin.

He throws his head back and laughs and then he reaches his arms above his head and hurtles into the night sky , almost colluding with a terrified bird.

The night is a blur and the sunrise - ah, the sunrise. It is so beautiful that he weeps, half-hidden in the branches of an old tree.
But he doesn't hide for long, lured out by the clear sound of water moving against land.

It is not the sea. But it is water, moving invitingly like a woman's body, adorns with strands of glittery sunlight.
He strips and dives in.

And then he hears her. Her heartbeat. Her pretty, fast heartbeat.

(And another heartbeat. But that's not important).

He breaks through the surface, feeling the drops scatter around him, and calls, "Hey, Sookie! Where have you been? Come. Come play with me. It's wonderful here."

His voice is full of laughter.

"I am Aegir, God of the Sea, and you are Ran, my sea goddess."

"There's big gators in there, you crazy Viking! Get on out and let's go home, before one of them chomps off your you-know-what," Sookie yells back, sounding just on the edge of panicky.

(He is really naked out there. And wet. And glistening. And drunk off his face).

"Leave the sun to the water? Nope. I'll just kill all the sea monsters! Gators, krukodiler! Show yourselves! Cowards!"

It is a game. Though he wouldn't mind killing a sea monster for her.

"He really is different," someone says, and Eric is suddenly hyper aware of the man. The were. The fucker.

Right. Next. To. Her.

"Get away from her! " he sneers.

"Fuck you! She wants me here," he yells back and Sookie tries to intervene. And introduce. "Eric, this is Alcide. He's our friend. He's gonna help you." And adding, because this is no herder party and she knows these two. "You don't want to fight him."

Eric's answer is predictable. And a little eager. "Yes, I do. Now prepare to die, you stinking dog."

As is Alcide's. "Take your shot, you dumbshit fanger."

And Sookie has had it with them. "Grow up, you giant babies! Alcide, stop making that noise. Eric, put up those fangs and do what I say! "

He is about to yell something when he suddenly feels the ground disappear under his feet. "Uh, uh I don't feel so good," he mumbles,

"Now will you listen to me?"

He looks up at her, eyes wide and confused, " Sookie, I hurt. My blood is burning."
"I know," she says, and Alcide can't help but notice that she doesn't sound quite as put upon as she ought to,
"Now, come on. You gotta get going. Vamp speed."

"I don't want to go back to the darkness," he whimpers. "I want us, I want us -" She interrupts him. "Just keep that blanket on, and the sun at your back."

"Sookie, I'm -"
"Go. Run. We'll be right behind you."

And he does as he is told, running blindly back toward the house.

He sits on the cot, swaying slightly, when she makes her way down the ladder.
The were is staying upstairs. Wisely.

"I don't want to go to sleep," he murmurs, looking at her with bloodshot eyes,

"You have to rest," Sookie says. Reasonably. "You got all burned up today. Let me check." Looking him over, touching him gently.

"Everything healed. Now, lay down and close your eyes."

"No," he says. Unreasonably.


There's a hint of a pout.

"If you stay awake, you're gonna start bleeding all over the place," she tells him, a little sternly.

"I know what the bleeds are."
Petulant now.

"Fine," she says, getting up, " then you can clean it up. I'm not a maid."

"Stay with me."

He doesn't care if he sounds weak. Or needy.


"Can't," she says, surprised at the pang she feels. "Human stuff to do."

He gets tucked in and she leaves. He closes his eyes.

And then he wakes. Knowing that her house is empty.
The last of the fairy blood is making his restless.

He gets up and wraps himself in the blanket before climbing up the ladder.
And entering Miliways.
onceaviking: (up)
He steps through the door - and then he is rushing up the stairs and through Sookie's house, because there is yes, yes, fucking yes a fairy. Right there.

They are talking but he can't hear what they are saying and then she is in his arms, the fairy - terrified and screaming - and his fangs are down and Sookie is yelling at him but he can't hear her.

And he bites.
And the world explodes in sparks of joy.
And he drinks.

The fairy disintegrates between his fingers and he swallows, looking up at Sookie.
His head feels heavy, all of a sudden. And filled with cotton wool.
He blinks at Sookie who seems - upset?
Upset. Yes.

"You just killed my fairy godmother," she says. And he can't help a small giggle from escaping, because c'mon, that does sound funny. BUt he tries to school his features and sound contrite, as he says, "'m sorry?"

She starts talking fast. Agitated. "We're sittin' ducks out here if any of Claudine's friends show up.
Hurry. In the house."

Trying to get him to get off the ground. To move.
To understand that this is actually really serious.

"We're headin' for the cubby, you hear me?"

And then it's as if a veil is drawn aside and he sees her. He really sees her.
And he wants her. He -


Her voice is annoyed.


And a little frightened.

"More," he says. Because he can hear her blood sing and he wants it.

"Quit," she says, sharply.

"I want more."

"You can't have any more. There isn't any more. You drank the whole faerie, and you're going to your room."

She could cry if the whole thing wasn't so fucking bizarre. And if she hadn't seen the fairies without the glitz and glamour. If she hadn't learned of her grandfather's fate, abducted and held prisoner.

"Drink you up." His tongue feels thick and uncooperative.

"Eric, you'll kill me!" Genuinely frigtened now.

"No!" He could never do that. Not that. Not her.
"I would never harm you."

And she almost believes him, even as he stands there, covered in fairy.

"You better not," she says. "Come on, I'll tuck you in."

She is sweet.
He can feel a smile (loose and broad) spread on his face. And then he moves, vampire fast -

"Hey! Did you just pinch my butt?"

"Beautiful butt," he sing-songs, because it is. And it fits just right in his hands. He knows it.

"Well, thanks, but hands off."

"Whoo!" he hollers.

"Hey! I said -" and then it dawns on her.
Intoxicating faires. "You're drunk."

"Catch me," he yells and runs off a little way towards the trees. Laughing.

"Get back here! I'm trying to help you." She can feel the desperation tint her voice.
"You can't do this. Get back in the house right now."

But he won't. Not when the night is beautiful and the air soft.

"Never," he calls out.

She tries to reason with him using the best argument she knows.
"It'll be dawn soon!"

It will.

"I don't care," he yells and then he really does run away from her, too fast for her eyes to follow.
Faster than her cry.

onceaviking: (up)
He sleeps. Dead to the world.

Unaware that Sookie calls Alcide to ask him if she can come by. Ask him a favor.
Unaware that she worries about Eric being close to Jason, who is still recovering from his V addiction.
Unaware that Tara stops by to beg Sookie to square things between Lafayette and Eric.
Unaware that she lies for his sake, claiming that she hasn't seen him.
That he is missing.

(In a way he is missing, his old self, the one she knows. Now he is frightened and gentle. But he still has fangs. She reminds herself of that).

He sleeps while she drives to Shreveport and makes a deal with Alcide, about Eric hiding out in one of the homes he is working on, one that hasn't sold yet. Sleeps while she realizes that Alcide is back with Debbie Pelt who's switched V for Jesus. Sleeps while the were bristles at the idea that Eric is in her house.

Sleeps while a phone he no longer has rings and rings and stops to let Bill leave a message. Annoyed at being ignored. Again. Fucking Northman. Arrogant sob.

And then he wakes up and blearily makes his way up the stairs in worn and soft Bermuda shorts and a t-shirt, opening the door - and stepping into Miliways.
onceaviking: (up)
It's hard.

Sookie is pretty and the way she smells makes him want to -

But he tries to behave, even though Pam's revelation that Sookie's house is in fact his house is making it harder.

Sookie shows him a hidden cubby (she has to coax him to climb down the small ladder).

"Wow," he says, looking around in the small space with the bed. "This really is my house."

"Yeah, but not for long," Sookie replies, seemingly disinclined to discuss it any further.

He - doesn't really pick up on that.

"And you live here? In my house?"


So disinclined.

But he presses on, because surely, surely that has to mean something.
"Are you mine?" he asks, hopefully. "No," she replies, curtly.

"Do you belong to another vampire?"
He hopes not and her - just as curt - 'no' kindles a hope in him. A hope that flies out of his mouth, breathlessly.

"Would you like to be mine?"

He looks at her. Hopefully.

"Um, not really," Sookie mumbles, "but - thank you for askin".

It's all so awkward and his open, trusting puppy-face is making it even more so.

And then he is suddenly taking hold of her, moving very, very close. His lips parted in a far more recognicable expression.

She says, "Eric, let me go", and is proud of herself for sounding firm instead of scared.

(His hands are huge).

"I just want to thank you for uh - for everything," Eric says and his voice sounds distant to his own ears. Up close it is really difficult to not get caught up in her scent. "That - that's all."

"You're welcome," she says with a fake smile. "Please let me go now." Trying to will him into doing as she tells him to.

"What are you?" he asks. Emcee called her a fairy girl or half fairy or something. Is that what she is?

The question, this particular question, manages to push Sookie from somewhat intimidated straight to really annoyed.
"I am really sick of being asked that question is what I am," she spits. "Let me go."

And he does. Quickly. As if burned.
"Of course," he says. "Sorry."

And then he settles down under the covers and she tries to make her body forget the sensation of his cold fingers curled around her upper arm.
onceaviking: (up)
And so he returns, reentering Sookie's living room, once again in dirty jeans and with muddy feet.

He sits down on her couch, cautiously, and realizes that she must be on the phone with someone out in the kitchen.

Going "Pam? Pam?"

Then she hangs up and reappears with a basin of water for his dirty feet. Apologizing because it's grown cold by now, the water.

"I don't mind," he says, looking intently at her as she kneels down and wrings a washcloth.

Her touch is gentle and he pulls one foot back a little, surprising her with a suppressed giggle.

It tickles.

She seems sceptical as she returns her attention to his feet. As if he doesn't fit.

Like in Milliways.

He suddenly, urgently, wants to kiss her, but you can't. Not just like that.
So instead he leans forward , just a little, and says, "You're very beautiful."

She looks up. Even more sceptical.
"Uhm - thanks?"

{ooc: dialogue taken from season 4, episode 3}
onceaviking: (Default)
The night is clear, the air crisp.

Eric looks around him as they walk, eyes wide with wonder.
The sounds.
The scents.

Especially Ganymede's scent, the hint of something reaching far beyond human.
It's distracting.

He keeps looking back at him as they walk toward the treeline.
onceaviking: (Default)
It's stupid, really.

It's all because of the house. And Sookie.

He'd known she'd return. He'd been certain. So he had bought her house, through an agency of course. Her idiot brother would never have trusted him, but he had never suspected anything amiss with the agency. Not even when he got the asking price.

Anyway, he'd bought it and she'd returned and not been particularly pleased that he could come and go as he pleased.
He'd been happy to see her though.
Surprisingly happy.

Anyway, he'd figured she'd come around. So he'd spent time in Miliways, been condescendingly polite to his new Regent, and waited.

And then he was summoned by King Bill who was all smiles and hinted strongly at houses and giving them back and such.

The joy of turning him down.
Oh, yes.
And Bill having to look like it was all just fine because he knew that Eric Knew People and couldn't be forced into giving up property. Such as houses. And half fairies.

And then he started talking about witches. Not just ordinary witches though. Your Wiccans with their woo woo crystals or your Satanists with their goats' blood or whatever. No, these were the real deal apparently,
Compton claimed he'd had a spy infiltrate their little coven and that the spy had seen them raise a bird from the dead.


Necromancers can control the dead and vampires being what they are -

Well. It would have to be shut down. Eric wanted to send Pam but Bill insisted he go himself. He tried a deflection about whether it had been pre-approved or not but in the end he took the job upon himself.
With an ironic, little bow even.

He should have known it would all go to Hell. He'd been there, during the Inquisition. He knew that if they were the real deal they'd be antagonistic. And skillful.

And yet he just walked in and told Marnie, the head witch, just how things would go. They would disbanden. Straight away. When she tried to argue he asked Lafayette (and what the fuck was that about? Seriously, Lafayette) if that worked with him.

No. Eric tells how he wants it and that is how he gets it.

He grabs Marnie when she tries starting shit and drops fang. And they start chanting.
Of course they do.

Only - only it - does something.
The light disappears.
And Marnie is standing a little ways away, yelling at him. In Latin.
Staring at him.

He can hear the surf and the crashing waves.
And then he falls into her eyes.


The vampire looks around.
And then he runs away.


He walks alongside the road. Bare feet. Bare chested.
His jeans are dirty.

A car slows. Stops.

And suddenly the air smells like summer. Summer and honey and sunlight on waves.

The woman is bright like a sunrise. She calls him Eric.
Is that him?

She smells so good that he has to -
And then she breaks his nose and tells him she will help him. If he behaves.
He promises he will.
Swears it.
To Sookie.
(Not Snookie. He thinks that's her name at first. When she tells him he is a vampire. And he tells her he knows.
He knows he is a vampire.

That is all he knows.)

His nose heals. He sits in her car, his hands in his lap.


She invites him into her house. Since it's the first time he is there. He almost gets mud on the rug straight inside and has to cant his way around it.

And then he just stands there. Huge. Half naked. With tousled hair and muddy, bare feet.

She goes into the kitchen and he hovers, briefly.
Then he walks after her, through the door.

For Tess

Dec. 12th, 2016 07:45 pm
onceaviking: (Default)
Eric opens the door to his room and lets Tess in, as he turns on the light.

It's cool and clean and neat, the huge bed made with white sheets and bedding.
(The joys of really good dry cleaners slash rats).

He gestures to the bathroom. "Do you want to head straight to the main selling point?"
Said with the casual irony of someone prety confident that he himself is always the main selling point.

For Sinric

Dec. 10th, 2016 01:30 pm
onceaviking: (Default)
Eric's room is cool and dark as he opens the for and lets Sinric in.

He turns the light on and shrugs off his leather jacket.
onceaviking: (Default)
The evening air is cool and clear, making the stars look like brilliant pinpricks just out of reach.

He puts a cold arm around her shoulders, leading her towards the forest.

"There's a small clearing a little way inside," he says. "I'll hear if anyone approaches. And the demon bunnies prefer to stay clear of me."
onceaviking: (Default)
Eric's room is cool and dark. He switches on the light as they enter and it illuminates the huge bed, the small table, the low chairs.

There are a few objects scattered around. A small Viking ship on the desk, a few framed pictures on the wall.

Eric holds the door for Godric, silently.

Not speaking out of turn - and not able to even if he wanted to.
onceaviking: (Default)
Eric's room is cool and dark.

Once they are inside, Eric turns on the bedside lights and pulls off his t-shirt, dropping it on the floor.

There's a bottle of brandy on the small table and the bedding is Egyptian cotton, smooth and silky.
onceaviking: (Default)
Eric opens the door to his room and switches the light on.

His room is clean and neat and cool. A filled decanter and a glass on the small table, the bed turned down.
He steps aside to let Emcee in.
onceaviking: (Default)
The door opens in a hallway.

The walls are painted dark red and the floor is painted black. That, however, is not the first thing you notice.
The first thing you notice is the music.
Really loud techno from the room at the end of the hallway is making everything vibrate.

The second thing you notice is the smell. Beer. Sweet drinks. Strong liquor.


Eric turns to Jim and points down the hallway, away from the door leading into the club.
"My office is down there," he says, his voice carrying just fine over the noise.

Fic Friday

May. 21st, 2016 08:06 am
onceaviking: (Default)

He cringes even if the word is softly spoken, shifting away from the woman, bloody and whimpering, beneath him, and sits back on his heels.

He can feel the blood drip from his chin, but he dare not move.

Just as soft.

And he settles down on top of her again, pressing his lips to her open wounds, feeling her hot blood fill his mouth, feeling the pull of her death, feeling -


He can't. It's too hard moving away. He can't. He -

"Eric. No."

He moves away, burying an urge to growl and snap deep inside.

And then Godric says, "Very good, Eric. A vampire masters himself. Always," and runs a finger along his blood spattered jawline.
And he closes his eyes, and the whole world becomes that point, skin against skin.
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