Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.—Mahatma Gandhi
The Vamp Camp had been built in the center of an abandoned warehouse district north of Baton Rouge near the Mississippi River. Unfortunately, the phrases “light tight” and “structurally sound” hadn’t really applied to many of the dilapidated buildings in its vicinity. The one Eric and I were in was on slightly higher ground than the others, which explained why the original architects had included a half basement. Earlier, Alcide had concluded that the southeast room in that basement was light-tight and that the building was sturdy enough not to collapse around us when the bombs at the Vamp Camp and the TruBlood factory went off.
Thus, it had been declared the “winner” for Eric and my resting place. I was thinking of it as the “love shack” since it was also where we’d be completing our bond.
Alcide had left Sarah Newlin’s SUV in the center of the first floor of the building. Earlier we’d found an entry point wide enough to drive a vehicle through, and Sarah’s car was parked next to the van that Eric and I would use if the vial of Warlow’s blood didn’t work to protect Eric from the sun. The dynamite—which would destroy the building when Eric and I were “finished”—was already rigged next to the vehicles.
Eric’s phone beeped to indicate an incoming text. He checked it, and then—with a sneer—he crushed the phone and threw it into Sarah’s SUV.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yes,” he responded simply, though I could tell he was still a little irritated.
After Eric quickly inspected the explosives, I led him down to the basement.
The “safe room” that Alcide and I had found while Eric had been doing his “thing” wasn’t much to look at. Given the rusty lockers along one wall, it had probably been an employee changing room.
Earlier, while I’d been “sprucing the place up” a little—which had included using an old push broom to clean the half inch of dust from the floor in the part of the room Eric and I would be using—Alcide had driven to where we’d abandoned my car and had gotten the quilt that I always left in the trunk. I’d spread the quilt out in the corner of the room. A few battery operated lanterns—placed around the little pallet—provided as much romance as was possible given the circumstances.
“The lights were the surprise Alcide was setting up before,” I chuckled. “Candles would have been too dangerous.”
Eric nodded and smiled a little.
I shrugged. “Otherwise, it would have been just this for light,” I said, holding up the small flashlight I’d been using.
“And the quilt?” he asked. “It smells of you already.”
I nodded. “From my car. Gran made it.”
He smiled. “It’s good we have it. You might get chilly when we fly otherwise.”
I smiled back. “It’ll be nice to keep it. Most of Gran’s quilts got destroyed by the Maenad, but since this one was in my car, it was spared.”
He bent down to kiss my forehead.
“It’s probably not gonna be that comfortable,” I said, suddenly feeling a little nervous.
“It’s perfect,” Eric responded in almost a whisper. “Plus, once we share blood, I don’t think it will matter—do you?”
“No,” I shook my head and blushed. Where we actually were really didn’t register to us at all during one of our “trips.”
He chuckled. “Better than starting off in a shower.”
I laughed. We’d both had pickled skin and I was ice cold because the hot water heater had run out of water by the time we’d “come back” from our first bonding “trip.”
“What about Bill? Do you think he’s nearby?” I asked, my laughter dying and being replaced by worry.
Eric shook his head. “No. I texted him while I was flying to you earlier. I told him that I was getting ready to ‘give myself up’ but that I’d seen Jessica and Pam in one of the Gen-Pop rooms. I expressed my conviction that today would not be the day for his premonition to come to pass.”
“And?” I asked.
“And—seventy-two minutes later, he texted back to tell me that he was still in Bon Temps and would be here in twenty-four hours to begin waiting for his prediction to occur.”
“Is that why you crushed your phone?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes. Though it’s better for us that Bill isn’t here, he should have come tonight.” He sighed. “Today would have been the day.”
“For his prediction to come true?” I gasped.
“Yes,” Eric confirmed. “In fact, why Bill waited even a day after first having Warlow’s blood is fucking beyond me! Had I not been here tonight,” he stopped.
He didn’t need to complete his sentence. Had Eric not been there, Tara, Jessica, Pam, and Willa would have met their true deaths with the rising of the sun.
“Pam was right. Bill is an asshat,” I scoffed.
Eric shook his head. “The world would have to be coming to a fucking end for me to wait seventy-two minutes to acknowledge good news about either of my children’s safety.”
He sighed. “But at least Bill’s ambivalence means that he won’t know that the plan changed until he hears of the explosion or sees Cataliades’s television debut. Hell—it might take Jessica’s arrival for him to realize that his plan was scrapped.”
I smiled. “I’m glad she agreed not to contact him.”
Eric shrugged. “It was a variable to leave her alive, but you were right about her. She’s much more honorable than her maker.”
I nodded. “How long?”
“Eleven minutes until the explosion. The sun will be up in one minute,” he answered.
“We should go up there so that you can see it—at least for a minute,” I said.
Eric shook his head. “I’m looking at the only sun I will ever need,” he said, taking my hand. “Your light is my sun.”
“No—Eric. It’s you,” I responded, even as my eyes filled with tears because of his fervent words.
He looked at me in confusion.
“You are the ‘being of the light’ that you told me about from the Book of Lilith—not Billith and certainly not Warlow. You saved the vampires here today. You stopped Hep-V from killin’ others. It’s you. And you are my sun!”
He looked speechless for a moment.
I continued. “I see a little glow in all vampires—except Warlow—which is ironic since he’s the fuckin’ fairy.” I paused. “And—here’s the thing—your light is the brightest to me. I used to think that was because of your age, but Russell’s was barely existent, and—though close—Godric’s was dimmer than yours too. You are the light.”
“We’ll be the light together,” he said passionately.
“Okay,” I smiled, even as hot tears streamed down my cheeks. After all, I was willing to be anything with him.
He looked at me as if I was the only thing he ever wanted to see again. I hoped that I was looking back the same way.
“Take your clothes off,” he ordered huskily.
I giggled. “Why?”
“I want to be inside of you when we finish our bond—that’s why,” he growled.
My breath hitched.
“The clock is ticking, Stackhouse,” he said. “And I have only a few minutes to make sure you get off before bombs go off and we both get off.”
His offer was too good to refuse. Quickly, I took off my clothes even as he was doing the same. After we were done, he seemed frozen—just taking me in—for at least thirty seconds. I think that it was in those seconds that I truly felt beautiful—maybe for the very first time.
There was something about the way Eric looked at me that was able to erase—no, to eclipse—all the negatives that I’d ever heard from others’ thoughts. It was able to help me move beyond the manipulations of Bill and Warlow. It was able to help me forgive myself for my mistakes.
That Eric could look at me like that—as if I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen—took my breath away. And I knew that he wasn’t just appreciative of my body. He didn’t want a sun-shiny fairy package which conformed to his pre-set wishes. He wanted me—Sookie Stackhouse. I was no assignment for him. I was no stab at redemption. I was no prize to be won. I was no line item on a contract.
I was just me.
And I was his.
“You’re the only one who’s ever seen all of me,” I whispered in awe. And it was true: Eric had noticed both fairy Sookie and human Sookie.
Moreover, the greedy vampire in front of me wanted both!
By contrast, Bill and Warlow had each noticed only one of the “me’s”, and—even then—they’d not looked at that one without seeing what they wanted to see.
“That’s because I belong to you,” Eric said as he moved toward me.
“Mine,” I responded—both ready and happy to accept the gift he was offering me.
He reached out his hand for mine, and I noticed that the light that had dimmed when I left his side the morning before—the light that he encouraged to arise in me—was back as soon as our palms touched.
“How long do we have?” I asked.
“Just over six minutes,” he responded with a smirk. “I’ll have to work fast.”
He positioned us on the quilt so that his back was against the wall and I was sitting on his lap. He was already hard, but—then again—I was already wet for him. Impossibly so. Just looking at his body would have been enough, but the thought of us completing our bond and the way he’d been looking at me were the things that had really gotten me stirred up.
One of his hands stroked down my body until his fingers came into contact with my clit. He leaned forward to steal my resulting gasp with a kiss.
Even as his tongue made its entry into my eager mouth, two of his fingers entered my sheath. I moaned, which caused a vibration in our kiss, which caused him to moan in return. My body rose and fell with the movements of his fingers: up, down, in, out. One of my hands snuck down to join the party. I gently smoothed a bead of pre-cum around the head of Eric’s dick before circling my fingers around the base of it and then stroking him.
Our sexes were so close to each other—so aching for each other. Tantalizing.
It wasn’t long before Eric’s fingers curled to find my G-spot, even as his thumb moved to stroke my clit. Almost immediately, my body was shaking with release. However, just as my orgasm had begun to subside, Eric replaced his fingers with something infinitely more satisfying. He lifted my hips in time with his slow thrusts.
“How long do we have?” I asked him breathlessly.
“Ninety seconds,” he responded as he continued his thrusts.
I nodded and enjoyed the way we moved together—the perfect fit.
Neither of us spoke for more than a minute. However, our gazes were as locked together as our bodies. And the light that I was certain wouldn’t have been possible without Eric encompassed us both in its golden sheen.
Eric stopped moving—filling me completely.
“Twenty seconds until it detonates. You ready?” he asked, even as he lifted his palm to his already-lowered fangs.
“Yes,” I answered unequivocally.
He bit and held his bloody palm out to me even as he positioned his fangs over my neck.
“Three, two, one,” he said.
And then we drank.
We felt the percussion of the explosions—though it might have been the force of the bond completing itself or the force of the orgasms that rippled through us both.
I knew that the evil doings of mankind were becoming a mangled mass of metal less than a mile from where we were, but in that moment, I just didn’t care.
I felt Sookie’s essence leave me like the breeze left Louisiana in the dead of summer.
There had been a time when losing my connection to her like that would have crushed me.
“I loved her once,” I heard myself saying aloud, though I didn’t experience the feelings that ought to have gone along with those words.
In truth, Sookie’s death meant fewer complications for me, and I was grateful for it. Without her in the picture, Warlow would be more docile—less bent on escape. Takahashi was already working on a way to synthesize Warlow’s Fae blood. When he succeeded, I planned to stake Warlow. However, in the meantime, I needed him so that I could continue to walk in the sun.
My own child’s life force still thrummed steadily inside of me, so I didn’t worry that Sookie’s demise had fucked up the happenings at the Vamp Camp. Eric was now in place, and soon my plans would come to fruition.
I didn’t give Sookie another thought as I continued to feed from and to fuck the donor I’d procured.
I was already weak from blood loss when I felt the blow. It was like a thousand pieces of glass had hit my body in chorus as I felt all the drops of Sookie’s blood inside of me lose contact with their source.
She was dead.
She was dead.
I felt lukewarm tears stream down my cheeks, but I was too weak to wail in my pain.
For so long, I had dreamed of the woman I’d “bought” from the Stackhouse bloodline—a woman whose blood and spark had traveled through millennia just for me.
I had meant to make her love me no matter how long it took or what measures I had to take. She would have become my perfect mate in time—someone with whom to traverse the world.
I had tried and failed to turn both humans and fairies in the past, but I had been certain that Sookie—as a hybrid—would be different.
I barely registered that Northman, too, had perished from my blood. The disappearance of our weak tie was but scratch compared to the pain I felt at losing my mate.
“They must have died together,” I whispered as I felt jealousy surge through me. If Sookie had to die, it should have been by my side!
My only comfort was that I was now confident that Sookie and I had begun a bond, after all. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have felt such pain at her death. Northman had been right; it wouldn’t have been possible for Sookie to form a bond with anyone but me. It was likely because of her nature—her shielding ability—that I couldn’t feel it before.
I closed my eyes tightly, thinking about how I should have operated with Sookie.
I’d been foolish for wanting her love to match mine before I turned her. I should have simply forced a bond from the start and then turned her once it was complete. Her love would have followed—eventually.
I briefly thought about adopting this plan with Bellefleur’s remaining daughter, but quickly rejected that idea. I felt no kinship with her. She was of a different race of Fae than I was. No! I needed someone of Niall’s line!
“Jason,” I said aloud.
I smiled. Jason could have a female child, and that female would give me access to the line of my people. Perhaps she might even have a spark.
Yes. Jason was the answer. Destiny had used Sookie to teach me that I needed to be more decisive in capturing my mate.
I smiled. I knew that Bill would want to keep me in Bon Temps, which would keep me close to Jason. And I would become the model prisoner, offering my blood without complaint to keep Bill walking in the sun. Hopefully, “my maker” would soon trust me enough to give me a “parole” of sorts. I could even suggest that he command me to stay in town and “behave myself.” And then I could keep a closer watch on Jason, perhaps even steering him toward a match with the Bellefleur girl.
“Perfect!” I said to myself. If Jason mated with the half-breed, then they would most likely produce at least one child who had the essential spark.
Though I was weak, I marshalled my energy to check on Jason using the tie I’d already created with him.
The fortuitous move of giving Jason my blood had been made only to ingratiate myself to Sookie. However, now I realized that the tie with Jason was the most important part of my interactions with Sookie!
“Perfect!” I repeated as I felt Jason with my blood.
Although I couldn’t pick up much in my weakened state, I could tell that he was fine—excited even. It was obvious he didn’t yet know of his sister’s death. Luckily, he could be glamoured, and as soon as I found the opportunity, I would do just that—making sure that he pursued Bellefleur’s child.
I smiled and allowed my grief over Sookie to burn away as our tie had minutes before. I would bide my time monitoring Jason’s bloodline, and when a girl with the fairy spark was born, I would make her mine.
Meanwhile, I would manipulate Bill into letting his guard down.
I’d killed my maker once; I was determined to do it again!
Then I would wait for my prize.
The feeling of being whole for the first time.
“Where are we?” Sookie asked.
“I don’t know,” I responded.
“Open your eyes,” she ordered with a giggle. “I wanna know why the only things I see are snow and mountains.”
I obeyed and immediately recognized the place. “We are in Åre, Sweden,” I said, awestruck. “I have a cabin near this place.”
Sookie giggled. “It figures that two out of three of our ‘trips’ would be to snowy places.”
I chuckled in wonder as I saw that we were on a bed of furs again. “Well—it was my turn.”
She nodded. “We can keep exchanging—right?”
“Absolutely,” I confirmed. “Perhaps next time we’ll be somewhere hot again.”
She giggled. “It’s not as if I’m cold here. I know I should be—bein’ in the snow on the top of a mountain in nothing but my birthday suit.”
“I love your birthday suit,” I said waggling my eyebrows.
“And I love yours,” she said, eyeing me lustily. “It’s a good thing you don’t shrink in the snow.”
I looked down at my ready cock. Nope—no shrinkage there. In fact, I was still hard for her.
She lay back on the furs and opened herself to me as I moved to hover over her.
I could feel her emotions and she could feel mine as we made love on the top of the snowy mountain as fully bonded mates.
And as we both came undone, we were encompassed in a light so warm that it would have melted the snow if we were truly in Åre.
Eric and I had just come back to ourselves from our “trip.”
He’d confirmed that the blood of all others—including Warlow’s Fae blood—had burned out of us when we’d bonded. He’d also just drunk one of the vials.
He nodded. “Plan A it is,” he grinned.
I grinned back as I buttoned a clean pair of jeans and then put my dirty clothing into my duffel bag. I gathered up Gran’s quilt.
Eric quickly prepped the explosives that would destroy the building we were in. We were taking no chances of leaving trace evidence behind. In the wake of the destruction of the Vamp Camp and the TruBlood factory, no one would question the fact that Sarah Newlin’s car was the focal point of yet another explosion. People would assume that she’d died in the explosion in an act of either cowardice or “martyrdom”—depending on perspective.
After everything was set, Eric handed me the detonator, and we went up to the roof of the building.
He looked at the sun for a minute and then at me.
“No comparison,” he whispered before he kissed me. Because of our completed bond, I could feel that he was being truthful.
I looked at the sunlight in his hair. I looked into his shining eyes. “You are more beautiful in the moonlight,” I said, knowing that he too would feel the truth in my words.
“And that’s why you and I work,” he grinned.
“Anyone in range?” he asked.
I listened for humans. “Some surveying the damage at the camp and factory, but no one too close.”
“Good,” he said. I enjoyed the sensation of him wrapping me into the quilt before lifting me up bridal style. I enfolded my arms around his neck as he took to the air. Once we were a few blocks away from the “love shack,” I dialed “F” for “freedom” and then clung to Eric more tightly as I felt the percussion from yet another explosion.
Of course, he was hanging onto me just as tightly.
I closed my eyes and rested my head against the chest of my bonded vampire.
“I love you,” I said.
“And I love you,” I felt as much as heard from him as the wind rippled through my hair.
I knew that there would be a funeral in Bon Temps for me. And knowing Pam and her flare for the dramatic, there would be a memorial of some sort for Eric too. I imagined her schooling Willa and Tara about funeral clothing. I imagined her in a dramatic black veil. I imagined black roses filling Fangtasia. Pam did love a good performance, after all.
But Eric and I weren’t dead at all. Whatever the opposite of dead was—that’s what we were as we flew toward the peace we both deserved.
I just wondered how long we’d have that peace before our enemies found us. I hoped it would be years, decades—centuries even.
But—then again—I found it hard to care about our enemies with Eric’s strong arms wrapped around me. I smiled and found myself laughing out loud—in joy.
“What?” he asked over the wind.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Just,” I sighed, “I’m happy.”
“Me too,” he said as I felt his glee through the bond.
I smiled, and he smiled. And then we both laughed.
I knew that nothing could separate us now. Warlow could find us. Bill could find us. But none of that mattered. Live or die—my only bonded would be Eric Northman.
Our souls were one now—our existences one.
And—no matter what the future held—nothing could change that.
Yes. I was happy.
A/N: Well—that’s is for Funeral! I really hope that you enjoyed my take on Season 6. This is where I would have left the season.
Now—I know that many of you have already been trying to “glamour” me into a sequel for this. There has been begging, utilizing imagery of Season 4’s amnesic Eric to manipulate, and cajoling. I’m sure that the threats will not be far behind. And I’m guessing that “some people”—you know who you are—will even try to stop shipment on all the wetnaps I’ve ordered. 😉
However, as of now, there are no plans for a sequel. Sorry.
Once more-thank you! thank you! thank you!-for all your support with this story. Your comments inspired me to make it longer than I’d originally intended and they brightened my world for the month I was posting this story!
Hello all! Here's a link for the complete .pdf of this story. Funeral .pdf