Erik Northman (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
onceaviking) wrote2017-09-20 06:30 pm
onceaviking) wrote2017-09-20 06:30 pm
Season Four
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 -
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 -
no subject
Bill knows. Her happiness was all he ever wanted, too, even if it meant giving her up.
if you ever loved me
He sets his jaw and tightens his grip on the stake.
Stepping closer to Eric, standing above him--
this is wrong
He swiftly raises the stake--
no subject
Looking at the vast darkness. The stars. The moon.
He has already hair one more look at the sun that was rightly his.
He has known love.
Now he can see the lights of night (you still have the stars. And the moon ) one final time.
The movement bares his neck and raises his chest.
He is ready.
no subject
His heart.
Eric...has a heart.
That's what it is. That's what's different.
That's what Sookie has found in him.
With a sharp but silent intake of breath, Bill abruptly steps back, away from Eric, and lowers his hand. His knuckles are white as he still grips the stake, his lips a thin, pale line.
For a moment, Eric may not be able to tell whether or not Bill still intends to execute him.
no subject
He blinks and shifts his gaze to Bill. And the lowered stake.
And then back to Bill's face.
His eyes are wide and uncertain.
no subject
He lays the stake down in the box and shuts the lid. With this, his decision is final.
"Release him," he tells the guards.
One of the two guards holding Eric unlocks the silver handcuffs and removes them, slipping them off his burned wrists. They then are suddenly almost benign, helping Eric to his feet.
Bill looks at him, still struggling with his own compassion. Will he regret this? Maybe. But ultimately, he's doing this for Sookie.
"You can tell Sookie everything yourself," he says to Eric, an uneasy kindness in his voice. "You are free to go."
no subject
Confused.
Grateful.
"My liege. Am I not still a threat?"
He doesn't quite understand what happened.
no subject
"What matters is that you are not a threat now," he replies. "As long as I have the witch in custody, we all should be safe."
He signals to one the guards. "Release his Progeny."
The guard wordlessly heads off into the mansion.
For vampires, doing the right thing or the wrong thing is irrelevant. They do whatever is best for vampires as a whole, or for themselves as an individual. Morality has nothing to do with practicality.
But Bill will never forget that being with Sookie helped him reclaim his humanity.
He looks at Eric, and glances away toward Sookie's house, beyond the darkness, and back up at him.
"Go," he says with a faint nod.
no subject
And so he sinks down again, to one knee, and bows his head.
"Thank you."
He looks up at him, the light of the moon reflecting in his eyes.
"Thank yiu."
And then he gets to his feet and runs off, headed for Sookie's house.
no subject
She waits, and waits. But it doesn't come.
At the sound of footsteps in the hall, she stands up, anxious.
It's a guard. He unlocks the cell door and slides it open, stepping back to let her through.
"The King has released both you and Eric Northman."
Pam...is dumbstruck.
Moving slowly, as if this were a dream, she steps out of the cell. She turns to look at the guard once, who nods, and gestures for her to continue on her way.
Eric is alive. Eric is alive.
This is all that matters.
She rushes up the stairs into the main room of the mansion and out the front doors.
Bill is standing on the porch, alone with a snifter of blood in his hand, forlornly looking up at the full moon. When Pam appears, he turns his head to look at her. His face is now the mask of vampire impassiveness.
Without a word, Pam gives him a curtsey. Grateful and polite, slow and graceful. She is an old world Victorian after all.
And then she takes off at vampire speed into the darkness, into the heart of Bon Temps, determined to hunt down every last bitch in that witch's circle.
Thanks, Bill.
no subject
As if the whole - vampire thing wasn't bad enough, Jason has gotten into his dumb head that he is somehow becoming a werepanther and has gone running in the darkness to prepare for the change.
Or whatever.
She has no time for this.
But he is her brother and so she is here, walking through the undergrowth. Brandishing Grandpa's old shotgun.
"Jason? Come on!" she yells.
"I love you, but my feet hurt, mosquitoes are eatin' me alive, and you ain't even gonna turn into a werepanther."
The night air is heavy. Oppressive.
She is doing her level best not to think about Bill.
Or Eric.
"Can you hear me? You ain't gonna be a werepanther!"
A branch breaks.
She spins, raising the gun, her hands damp with sweat.
And there he is.
Big, floppy haired Eric in her brother's old clothes. Pale and - Well, not alive but not dead-dead.
"How?" she asks, hardly able to believe her eyes.
"The king set me free," he answers, his voice so soft as to be almost inaudible.
Afterwards, neither will be able to say who took the first step, who leaned in.
Who initiated the kiss.
But afterwards he will remember her lips moving against his skin, soft as flower petals. The scent of her skin, honey-golden and full of light. The light of the moon painting them both with light and shadow.