Erik Northman (
onceaviking) wrote2017-09-20 06:30 pm
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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 -
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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.
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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.