onceaviking: (Fanged profile)
[personal profile] onceaviking
Eric is standing in the hallway.
Alone.

Edgington has just fetched Sookie for a chat.
Sookie, who had been dragged here when Edgington returned, her pale vampire lover boy subdued by one of the King's burly security guards.
They had both expected Eric to do something to save her and he had been able to feel Sookie's chock and anger when he'd merely grinned at Edgington, telling him that he did not know what it was, but that he was sure it was valuable. Laughing at Sookie for believing that she was somehow his equal.

Bill had, foolishly, attacked Edgington. As if. He'd been dragged to the slave quarters and Loreena had stood there, tears in her eyes. But still present enough to snarl at Sookie. Who'd given as good as she got.
And Loreena was lucky that he could not be distracted by her when she bad-mouthed his Maker. That he had to let her live.

He could not let himself be distracted by this. Any of this.
He had to think.

And so he'd let Loreena leave and silenced Sookie with a hand over her mouth and taken her to the library to wait for Edgington who'd have to go placate his little trophy wife. Who'd gotten upset about something.

Sookie kept talking at him though. About how he was betraying her. How she hated him. Big hat, no cattle. Yadda, yadda, yadda.
Till he finally snapped and yelled in her face that he did not care about her.

He was torn.
He needed Edgington to save Pam. He was old enough and powerful enough and insane enough to go up against The Magister.
And he needed Edgington to die. Die a thousand times over. Suffer, and suffer endlessly for what he had done. Having to smile and pretend to be at ease in his company was almost unbearable.

And now Sookie. With her alluring scent and her golden hair. Her tempting breasts and the promise between her legs, and her headless, stupid bravery.
And he could not allow her to distract him.

For he didn't care about her. He didn't. At all.

Then Edgington had returned, doing his pants up, and had asked Eric to leave them alone. And he had.

And now he is standing here.
Torn.

Date: 2014-10-10 08:51 pm (UTC)
dobadthings: (Talbot)
From: [personal profile] dobadthings
He slants a look at Eric as he continues to shuffle the cards. As beautiful as he is in that soft blue sweater that matches his eyes, Talbot has no doubt that with his stature, his broad chest and shoulders, and his calm and intelligent demeanor, that he would make quite a commanding figure indeed.

"Perhaps."

He then shakes his head slowly, pityingly.

"But one would think they would have learned some manners in the century since then. It seems that they resort to feral behavior the first chance they get. A shameful upbringing, really."

He begins dealing out the cards.

Date: 2014-10-10 09:05 pm (UTC)
dobadthings: (Talbot)
From: [personal profile] dobadthings
He huffs a sigh and shakes his head, and he lowers his voice.

"Miss Krasiki is just incredibly lacking in good taste. I heard that she wanted Russell to make Bill watch while she killed the little Sookie girl. A ludicrous request out of nowhere."

A pause.

"Also? The hatesex they've been having has been getting on my nerves. Did they think that getting bloodstains out of silk sheets is easy? No, they must be thrown away and replaced. And the damage to the furniture in their bedroom is honestly the last straw. The most inconsiderate houseguests, ever. I'm glad Russell has finally relegated them to the slave quarters to do what they will."

He puts a fluttering hand to his forehead, feeling flustered again.

"I do apologize, Eric. It's been a hectic few days."
Edited Date: 2014-10-10 11:37 pm (UTC)

Date: 2014-10-11 06:09 am (UTC)
dobadthings: (Talbot)
From: [personal profile] dobadthings
His gaze shifts to Eric's sympathetic smile at the word ξενία, and he smiles gratefully in return, his shoulders relaxing. Russell used to indulge him with the old language, but he hardly does anymore, and so he hardly ever hears it from anyone but himself.

"You know, Eric," he says casually, straightening out his hand of cards, and nudging a pile toward Eric, "in spite of your unfortunate circumstances, I'm glad you came to us. Your presence has been very refreshing."

Date: 2014-10-11 06:37 am (UTC)
dobadthings: (Talbot)
From: [personal profile] dobadthings
He raises his eyebrows a little, then realizes they'd been so distracted by their conversation that he hadn't specified what exactly they were playing.

"Kaiserspiel? We're playing Karnoffel."

The games are closely related enough that anyone could've made that mistake, really.

Date: 2014-10-11 06:53 am (UTC)
dobadthings: (Talbot)
From: [personal profile] dobadthings
It's a face that works on Talbot nonetheless.

"Russell taught me this game when I was still human," he says fondly, temporarily forgetting the tiresome spats and tiffs they've been having lately.

Date: 2014-10-11 07:29 am (UTC)
dobadthings: (Talbot)
From: [personal profile] dobadthings
He rolls his eyes ceiling-ward in brief thought.

"Oh, just shy of 700 years," he says, arranging his cards.

He then adds with an affectionately beleaguered sigh, "Although sometimes, it feels like seven million."

Date: 2014-10-11 01:14 pm (UTC)
dobadthings: (Talbot)
From: [personal profile] dobadthings
Talbot chuckles as well.

But then he's held in Eric's gaze so intently that even as they exchange cards, and even as a mild disturbance occurs in the foyer, Talbot doesn't look away. It seems as though neither of them can.

"Oh, believe me," he says, his tone also low and serious, eyes locked with Eric's, "...he does."

Date: 2014-10-11 01:32 pm (UTC)
dobadthings: (Talbot)
From: [personal profile] dobadthings
Talk about ruining a mood.

When Eric turns his head, so does Talbot. Just in time to see the girl being dragged up the stairs (she puts up such a fight; she'd better not scratch the wallpaper) and Russell approaching the doorway.

"Where are you going now?" Talbot asks him. He tries to contain the annoyance that's starting to well up again.

Date: 2014-10-11 01:43 pm (UTC)
dobadthings: (Talbot)
From: [personal profile] dobadthings
"Again?"

Talbot is really trying. But Russell has had so much business over the past several nights that it might take more than a few minutes of fucking to make up for his absence.

Date: 2014-10-11 02:25 pm (UTC)
dobadthings: (Talbot)
From: [personal profile] dobadthings
Please save Bill. Talbot has to chuckle at that, too, because after the conversation he and Eric have just had about him, nobody is saving anybody.

But then, Russell asks Eric to come with him. And like a shot Eric is on his feet, complying, obeying. Talbot looks back and forth between the two of them with such disbelief that he might get whiplash.

Excuse me, hello, I'm still in the room!

So this is Russell's plan for Eric, is it? To take him along on all his little business trips? While he can stay home as usual and mind the house that Russell barely even pays attention to anymore?

"You never take me anywhere!" he finally bursts out, and he stands up, unable to contain his emotions.

One of which seems to be jealousy.

"Because you prefer to be in the company of sycophants," he continues, glaring at Russell but with a fluttering gesture toward Eric.

He manages to rein it in a little as he approaches Russell, arms folded, simmering with frustration and anger.

"Deep down, my darling, you're a very weak character."

And he storms off upstairs (again), muttering curses in Greek. So much for a quiet evening.

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Erik Northman

November 2021

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