OOM - Russell Edgington's Mansion, Night

[onceaviking]

He gets the driver to pull over a little way away from the King's residence that he may approach on foot. It gives him time to assess the area. And to calm down.

He can feel Pam. Even with the distance between them. Ignoring her is one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he needs to keep his cool if he wants to succeed with this.
The old ones rarely appreciates emotion.
Detachment, a certain amount of cruelty, that is what he is going for.

By all accounts, the King - a vampire named Russell Edgington - is both old fashioned, and a snob. His house certainly fits the bill. Huge and white and gated, with trimmed lawns and tastefully hidden lamps. There also seems to be an abundance of black clad security people crawling about the place. All young, male, and attractive.
Another thing Russell Edgington is known for.

So he's exchanged the leather jacket for something a little more formal and tailored. Something that both shows breeding and shows off his shoulders.
He is nicely dressed, freshly scrubbed, with his hair combed back.

If he plays his hand right, he is certain that the King will let him hunt for Bill Compton in Mississippi.


He reaches the gate and suddenly finds himself surrounded by a security posse. All looking very grim and determined.

"Eric Northman, Sheriff of Louisina's Area Five. I come in peace to see the King?" he says, showing his empty hands. They're smart enough not to be persuaded by that. You gotta hand Russell Edgington that.

He lets them grab hold of his arms. Suppressing the urge to show them just whom they are dealing with.

They lead him to the door and he says, "This is completely unnecessary. I told you I come in peace," as it opens. Sounding almost a little amused by the antics of the staff.

Comments

[dobadthings]

Greek columns adorn the foyer, warmly lit with antique light fixtures, casting a golden glow on the cool seafoam-hued walls and the fresh flowers on decorative marble side tables. Everything exudes opulence, and the individual responsible for keeping up such appearances is near the foot of the curving staircase, inspecting a stack of fresh bedding of Egyptian silk held by a valet. Satisfied, he waves the valet off.

The front doors open, and an unfamiliar voice comes through.

Turning around, the young man sees four burly security personnel escorting a tall, blond vampire inside.

And he can't take his eyes off him.

"Hel-lo."

He speaks with a soft Greek accent. His long hair is ink black, slicked back in neat waves. He has a pale olive complexion, large eyes the color of the Mediterranean Sea, and a full-lipped, sensual mouth. It curves into an appreciative smile as he takes a few steps closer.

"Have we met?"

[onceaviking]

Eric looks over at the vampire greeting him.
Pretty like the flower arrangements and acts like he owns the place. Almost.

He lets his lips curve, just a little. A hint of ' can you believe these guys', as he replies, "Eric Northman, sheriff, Louisiana Area 5. I am here to see the King."

This is not Russell. His lapdog perhaps.
With a wagging tall and an eager, little nose.
He can work with that.

[dobadthings]

Well, well.

"Talbot," he says, introducing himself. "Royal consort. Permit me to facilitate."

He turns toward the stairs and calls out, "Russell?"

Turning back to Eric, he then addresses the guards with a slight eyeroll of haughty disdain.

"Let him go, you idiots."

The vampires on either side of Eric obediently release his arms.

[onceaviking]

As he turns, Eric makes a point of letting his eyes move slowly down his body.
Talbot.
Royal Consort.

He'd been right then.

He is released and says, "Thank you," with a small curl of his lips. Looking intently at him.
Appreciatively.

He's old. But not Eric's age.
And soft.

But very certain of his own standing here. And the staff seems to obey him without question. So he just might be right.

[dobadthings]

It's been a very long time since anyone's smile left Talbot feeling a little flustered.

Aside from his beloved Russell, of course.

But he finds himself grinning like a schoolboy for a few seconds, and upon remembering his manners, he gestures toward an adjoining room.

"Please. Will you come this way to the dining room? Russell should be with us shortly. We don't usually receive unexpected guests like this, but for you, I'm certain he'll make an exception."

[onceaviking]

Eric nods slightly, and moves past Talbot.
"I appreciate that," he says in a low tone. Confidentially.
Intimately.

"I normally wouldn't show up like this, unannounced, but the situation requires it."
And a shadow passes his face.

[dobadthings]

Talbot follows Eric with his eyes. He's very tall.

(Taller than he expected.)

Noting Eric's grave tone, he tilts his head, brows slightly knitted.

"Oh, dear. Well, if we can find a way to assist you, we shall."

The dining room is warmly lit only by dozens of candles. Once they enter, two guards post themselves just outside the doorway.

"Do have a seat, Mr. Northman. I ought to check on Russell and personally let him know that you are here. Would you like some refreshment in the meantime?"

[onceaviking]

Eric looks back at him, over his shoulder.

"Thank you, but -"
He shakes his head.

Obviously preoccupied.
But not so much that he doesn't let his eyes linger at Talbott's lips, before slowly returning his gaze to his eyes.

He's with a vampire king. He must like those who are sure of themselves. The trick is not overdoing it. Because there is also a very real power balance here and it is not in Eric's favor.

[dobadthings]

Tall and sure of himself.

Talbot can't help but smile. Coyly, but perhaps a little knowingly as well.

"Oh, but I insist. You're a guest and you've come a long way. I'll have Marcel fix us up some fresh blood. It won't be any trouble at all."

With a small nod, he leaves the room with a light, graceful turn on his heel.

Russell will absolutely love to hear who's come to visit them.

[onceaviking]

Eric looks around when Talbot leaves.
The scent of melted wax and fresh roses is almost overpowering. Sweet and cloying.

Everything is rich and plush and too much. Oil paintings and antique furniture everywhere.

He'll talk to Russell's old world sensibilities, stress how he prefers this properly, asking for the privilege to hunt here. Speak of his crime in a suitable low tone.
The lapdog seemed favorably disposed. That might come in handy. Unless Russell is the jealous sort in which case he'll just have to keep his distance.

[dobadthings]

Eric ends up waiting quite a bit.

A servant enters the dining room at some point to set down three martini glasses on the table, one in front of Eric, the other two at empty place settings near him.

"The King will be with you shortly, sir," says the servant assures him with a bow of his head, before he exits with the tray.

The martini glasses are filled with blood, of course. But it has an especially sweet scent, a rather citrus-like note. And it's very fresh, as if it were just drained.

Finally, two pairs of footsteps approach.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting, Mr. Northman," says Talbot, with a smaller, slighter figure coming up behind him. He steps aside with a graceful gesture of his hand. "But may I introduce to you the King of Mississippi -- Russell Edgington."

[onceaviking]

He'll never understand the need to play coy with glasses and laid tables.
But he has come across plenty of vampires who seem to think that it somehow elevates them. Makes them more civilized.

He suppresses an eye roll.

And then he waits. And waits.

Another royal thing it seems. Sophie-Ann enjoys it too. An easy way to emphasize who is in charge.

He stays standing and tries to keep his shoulders down.

But finally, finally, they enter the room, the lapdog and his King, and Eric takes a small step forward and inclines his head slightly.

Russell Edgington is a short man, with widow's peaks and a fondness for velvet. And dark, observant eyes. He may be crazy, but he is not stupid.

"Your Majesty," Eric says. "I do apologize for arriving like this, but as I told your consort," a brief look at Talbott, "it is a matter of the utmost importance and I could not afford any delay."

His brief glance at Talbot is admiring. Not for his sake, but because anyone with that many expensive vases filled with roses and huge oil paintings (some of them depicting himself) is someone who enjoys having others envy him for the sake of his possessions.

Russell waves off his explanation and says, in his rich, southern drawl, "Please, Mr. Northman. Sit. I can't bear to discuss serious matters standing. Nor can I," he adds with a small smile, " engage in anything resembling business matters on an empty stomach. Ah, but I see that you have taken care of that, Talbott my dear."

Eric seems to have been right. Russell likes it when you covert his stuff. As long as you keep your distance.

[dobadthings]

And Talbot certainly doesn't mind being admired by one such as Eric. He makes his way around the table so that he can sit opposite him, and Russell can take his place at the head.

"Of course I did, darling," he croons at Russell. "What sort of hosts would we be if I didn't?"

Eying Eric in return, he gestures at the offered seat.

[onceaviking]

Eric walks to the chair - and then waits till Russell has seated himself.
Then he too sits down.

Finally.

He leans forward and says, "I humbly request permission to hunt your territory for the vampire missing from my area."
His eyes trained on Russell's face. His voice intense.

Russell leans back in his chair and smiles.
"I appreciate your courtesy, Eric," he says. And Eric breathes an internal sigh of relief. You can blow everything if you hit the wrong note at a time like this. But he has been right about Edgington, it seems. Especially when he continues, partly to Eric, partly to Talbott, "It's very old-world. Nobody has manners anymore."

[dobadthings]

Talbot agrees, himself aged enough to remember the good old days. At least, among high society.

"It was all so beautiful once," he muses, smiling at Eric.

[onceaviking]

"Your fugitive, what's his name again? " Edgington asks, attentive and with a look of concern on his face.

"Bill Compton," Eric replies, keeping his face neutral despite being rather thrilled with how this is going. If he plays his cards right, Edgington might even offer reinforcements.

"I'm responsible for him, and, uh, I'm ashamed to admit it, but he's wanted for selling vampire blood."
It sounds like an admission. The old ones tend to be very concerned about the sanctity of the blood. Bill's (fictional) transgression is not really his responsibility, but to someone like Edgington it seems like a safe bet to be at least somewhat shameful about the whole thing. For does it not tain us all - or some such bullshit.

"Oh, no, no." Edgington seems appalled. Very appalled, "That's heinous," he says, looking at Talbott, and now his facial expression and the tone of his voice is - almost too much?

"Are you sure?" he asks, returning his attention to Eric, who finds himself nodding. But slowly. Something's not quite right about this.

And he is proven right, when Edgington says, "Let's ask him."

Ask him?

[dobadthings]

Talbot might be enjoying this charade as he plays along, mirroring Russell's aghast expression and shaking his head in a tsk tsk sort of way. Someone has been a naughty vampire.

But then, the jig is up, as they say. For just outside the doorway, listening in on the entire conversation, is none other than Bill Compton. On Russell's apparent cue, he strolls in, smug as you please, and casually leans on the backrest of a chair. Somehow, he doesn't seem at all surprised to see Eric.

"Voilà," Talbot chirps. "He's not missing, and he's way too square to deal V."

Bill would agree.

He gives Eric an amused smirk.

"You tried to pin that on me?" he says, thinking that was a pretty desperate move, especially for Eric.

[onceaviking]

Edgington continues, "We all know it's your queen behind this, Northman," in a reasonable tone of voice, as Eric stares at Bill fucking Compton, standing there as if nothing is the matter.

As if his little human isn't practically in tears and begging for him to be found.

Does she know? Does she know that he is here at Casa de Roy, sipping on gourmet blood in crystal glasses?
He thinks not. Sookie can't act. She's like Sunshine, open books the both of them.

He looks back at Edgington and then at Bill again.

[dobadthings]

"And that you did the selling for her," Bill adds.

He thought he'd never see the day (or night, rather) when he'd have one up on Eric Northman. Eric may have a great poker face but Bill knows he's got him cornered, and it's about time he took some responsibility for his actions.

[onceaviking]

"You see, Mr. Compton has accepted a position in my court and therefore keeps nothing from me," Edgington continues, smoothly.
Watching Eric's face.

Eric in turn is looking back and forth between them, his face unreadable.

He's been caught red handed. His plan has been shot to pieces. There is no way Edgington will hand over Bill now.

And yet it is not all bad. And so he says, "Oh. You're here of your own accord."
Looking at Bill Compton who have just forfeited certain rights.

Have he considered this? Perhaps not.

And it buys him a little more time to think about what to say now,

[dobadthings]

Just like that, all smugness is wiped from Bill's face. Because despite the situation at hand, it still comes down to the one thing that only ever mattered between them. The only thing that will always keep them at odds.

And now, he's forced to say the words that Eric has been wanting to hear:

"Sookie is no longer mine."

He can still feel the painful echoes of her crying over the phone when he told her that it was over.

[onceaviking]

Eric locks eyes with him.
"Oh," he says.

A very small word full of meaning. Because he is besting Bill Compton. Again.
Surely he must be growing tired of that.
Eric isn't though.

Not at all.
His small smirk says as much.

Russel leans over to Talbot. He is wearing that silk scarf Russell likes. It always makes him in a good mood, when Talbott makes an effort. Making an effort is a dying art it seems.

"A King in front of them, a Queen behind them, and they're talking about a human girl," he says, his lips curling. With both amusement and a little disdain.
Honestly.

[dobadthings]

Bill may no longer have the right to protect Sookie from Eric, but he still trusts her with every ounce of his being that she will never willfully succumb to him. That is his only consolation.

Talbot, meanwhile, has been observing this little exchange with just as much amusement as Russell. When Russell leans in close with his commentary, his skin smelling of an almond-scented aftershave lotion, he grins with a slight roll of his eyes.

"Men."

[onceaviking]

But mocking Bill is not the only thing on Eric's mind.
He's been caught lying, yes, but Edgington does not seem to consider this hugely problematic. As Eric is still sitting here.

Granted, his friendly smile obviously hides more than fangs, but it is still something to work with.

So he turns his attention from Bill and leans in, just a little, just enough to be and to address Edgington and Talbott at the same time.

"Your Majesty I confess," he says, sounding both earnest and troubled.
He doesn't even have to act all that much to hit the last note right.

"I sold the blood at my queen's command and accused Bill to protect her."
The confession itself. They already know but dying it out loud is both an act of submission and of honour. He'll bet that Edgington likes that sort of thing.

"So, what do I do now?" he asks. Not only giving himself over to Edgington with his crime held as a sacrifice before him, but with his trust as well.

It's the kind of thing that might work on himself. If he was in the right mood. And the vampire in question was interesting enough. And while Eric is nowhere near as old as the King, he knows that he is interesting.

He continues without pause. "Unless I give the Magister Compton, he'll murder my progeny."
And again, he hardly has to act.

[dobadthings]

Talbot is immediately drawn in as Eric pleads his case.

As far as he knew, as privy as he was to Russell's plans, there was never the intention to punish Eric in the first place. At least, not directly. Russell was more interested in the affairs of that bitch Sophie-Ann. And Bill just happened to cough up some pertinent information. Such a little turncoat he is. A boring turncoat.

Eric seems much more fascinating.

When Eric mentions the fate of his progeny, Talbot utters a little gasp. Such cruelty by the Magister is not unheard of, but even this is quite extreme. He turns to Russell.

"Darling, so sad," he murmurs softly, a note of sympathy in his voice.

[onceaviking]

"The Magister is a nasty little Anachronistic toad, a ridiculous remnant of the Middle Ages," Russell says, as he rises. Suddenly agitated.

Eric seems to have struck a nerve. In his favor,

"The only power he has over us is the power we give him."
Eric watches him, but decided that he doesn't need to offer any input. The subject seems to be one Edgington can easily dissect all in his own.

"There may be a way to solve all our problems," Russell then says, thoughtfully, before adding, "Sleep here."

It's not really an invitation.
Eric is well aware of that.

He darts a quick look across the table at Talbott.

[dobadthings]

Talbot smiles warmly at Eric, as if to reassure him that yes, Russell can get worked up about certain things.

"You're more than welcome."

And he raises his glass of blood to him.

[onceaviking]

Eric looks back up at Edgington.

"How can I refuse?" he asks, with a small smile. And Edgington looks down at him with an answering smile.

They both know it is an offer, he can't refuse. But keeping up appearances are sometimes better.

And while he would vastly have preferred being able to do something about Pam's situation, right now, he must admit that there are certain advantages to his situation.

He lifts the glass to his lips, answering Talbott's small toast.
And then he turns his head and toasts Bill the same way. Smiling at him.

It can only be educational for a vampire like Bill Compton to see how his elders and betters deal with unforeseen happenings.

[dobadthings]

Bill was sure that Russell would turn Eric over to the Authority as an accomplice to Sophie-Ann. Russell had wanted information, and that was his best hand -- short of telling him what he knew about Sookie.

And now once again, Eric seems to have gotten himself off the hook.

He knows that look he's giving him. And it never fails to get under his skin.

Talbot, on the other hand, is looking forward to entertaining their new guest. Bill had barely expressed any interest in the beauty and richness of his surroundings, a home that Talbot took centuries of great care to cultivate. Nor did he express any interest in him. Such a prude.

Perhaps Eric is the type to show more appreciation for the finer things in life. He already has the feeling that he is.