Chapter 04: Nora

 Disclaimer:  I don’t own the characters in True Blood or the Southern Vampire Mysteries. So neither copyright infringement nor offense is meant. I simply want to make the characters do what I wanted them to do for a while. I am especially “unownerly” when it comes to this story. You will recognize a lot of the dialogue throughout as being quoted from Season 5 of True Blood, though I’ve tried to use Eric’s thoughts to make this story “different” from its source. That said, I claim no ownership to the quoted material and have placed it in bold so that it is set apart from my own words.

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I saw my sister, and in an instant, my mind was transported to the last time we’d seen each other.

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[Flashback: London, January 1945—four months before the surrender of Germany]

I walked in the shadows, trying to be unseen by the humans that were out on the foggy London night. Were all the nights there foggy? I’d rarely seen them not be.

Very few street lights had been lit, and—probably due to the bitter cold—very few people were out. Most who had ventured into the night seemed to be coughing. And their eyes showed a kind of wariness and powerlessness that only the memories of being bombarded from above could bring.

Hitler’s forces were most certainly on their way to defeat, but the dying animal was the most dangerous in many ways. And the people of London worried that he’d send the last of his planes and bombs to destroy what hadn’t already been destroyed in the Blitzkrieg several years before.

The threat of being bombed didn’t worry me much since I could hear the huge bombers from very far away, chugging along as if they might drop from the sky at any moment. And the smaller planes buzzed even more annoyingly. Thus, I could easily gauge the planes’ targets from the lines of their courses in the sky. Unlike humans, I could use my senses and my speed to get away or to seek appropriate shelter. So the only thing that could have concerned me was a daytime bombing. But, honestly, that possibility was so remote that it didn’t worry me much. After all, London hadn’t been bombed in years, and Hitler’s resources were extremely limited.

In truth, vampires hadn’t much cared about the Great War that had been waging in Europe, Africa, and Asia; in fact, we had never cared much about the actions of humans—unless they affected us directly.

Most vampires were using the war only as an opportunity to find and kill the injured. The kills were easy and easily covered up, but Nora had always been of a different ilk than most.

She had always been driven to protect those who were most vulnerable—those who couldn’t protect themselves. I’d found Nora dying of a disease from which she’d been trying to save others—a disease from which she could have stayed away. I’d found her—a member of an aristocratic family—in a squalid, make-shift hospital where she’d been tending to people of lower classes. Most of the wealthy and the powerful—including Nora’s family—had left London, hoping that the disease could be burned away by setting fires to the most affected—and poorest—areas of London. By contrast, Nora had ventured into the heart of the disease’s rampage in order to help.

It didn’t surprise me that—instead of preying upon the victims of World War II—Nora was working as a nurse to treat them. It had been easy for her to glamour the ward doctor to allow her to work only nights. So while both humans and vampires were killing in the thousands, Nora was trying to help—as usual. At the very least, she was able to glamour away the pain of those who had been hurt the most. She never, however, gave her own blood to the injured. She’d drawn the line there because of her idiosyncratic ideas about fate and ethics.

Her rules about her blood were simple, and those rules had been ingrained into both her and myself by our maker. Godric had taught us that the blood should be held sacred and not given unless it was to make a child or a bond. He’d instructed that a child should be made only when a clear pull was felt; in other words, he had taught selectivity.

That was why he still hadn’t really warmed to Pamela. Though I had grown to care for my child very much—and Godric could feel that through our bond—I had not been drawn to “make” her in that brothel in San Francisco. Pam had forced my hand, and Godric disapproved of my turning her without feeling the “pull.”

In addition to teaching Nora and me about maker-child selection, Godric had been adamant that bonds with humans not be entered into without caution and much forethought. Godric had formed only one such bond during his long life, but he would not speak of it. He simply said that it gave him both immense pleasure and intense pain.

Because of our maker’s lessons, Nora had never given her blood to save any of the humans she tried to help; there would have been too many to save anyway. I knew that firsthand. I’d witnessed the ravages of the war throughout Europe as Godric and I had made our way to Germany―where we’d traced the tattooed Weres―and it was the worst carnage that I had ever witnessed.

And I had witnessed quite a bit.

As long as Godric was alive, his bond with Nora transferred to me—”echoed” in me—to a certain extent, so I had no trouble tracking her. I went to the hospital where she worked, and I waited outside for her. When I saw her—dressed primly in a white nurse’s uniform with blood on it—my fangs clicked down immediately.

It had been a long time since we’d had the chance to fuck.

She answered my obvious arousal with a roll of her eyes.

Typical. It had been a long time since we’d had the chance to fuck with each other too.

“Brother,” she said in her perfect English accent. Obviously, she was not surprised to see me at all.

“Sister, you look well,” I said simply.

“Well,” she responded with snark, “you do not.” She’d never been one to pull punches.

“I am not,” I said with regret.

In fact, I’d not been well at all. Several months before, Godric had—for the first time in my existence—ordered me from his sight. And I felt disconnected—adrift.

Nora took my hand and led me through the streets of London, likely toward her resting place.

“I got a letter from Godric last week,” Nora said when we were about a block away from the hospital.

“He told you I was coming then?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“He told me that you might,” she confirmed.

“Did he tell you why?” I asked, as we ducked into an alley off of Whitechapel Street. There was still much ruin and rubble left from the Blitzkrieg, for the British were, by necessity, focusing most of their resources—both materials and manpower—on fighting the war, not on rebuilding its neighborhoods, especially not the poorer ones.

“Yes,” she said simply.

I was both angry at Godric and also glad that I wouldn’t have to rehash the situation with Nora.

Godric had been extremely displeased with me after I’d given the tattooed Were my blood so that she would talk.

“A vampire is never at the mercy of his emotions,” Godric had said to me with judgment steeped in his eyes. “He dominates them.”

After that incident, my maker had tried to reassure me that we would find the vampire who had been responsible for the deaths of my parents. He had told me to have patience.

However, in my view, Godric’s “patience” had been keeping us a step away from the vampire responsible. In fact, Godric’s heart did not seem to be in the search at all. Of that, I had been certain. I felt it through our bond.

But when I had questioned him about this, Godric had chastised me and then sent me away. And in my frustration, pain, and rejection, I had eventually made my way to my sister.

Nora led us to a small basement apartment in a large building. The inner rooms of that dwelling served as her “home.” There were no windows, and the space was dark and dank—perfect for a vampire who didn’t want to be bothered.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” she asked me.

“No,” I answered. “I do not.”

She nodded and busied herself with lighting a few lamps around her home.

“Do you wish to fuck about it?” she asked.

“Please,” I responded.

“Well then,” she said prissily, “let me warm you some water for a bath first. I do not wish to fuck you when you smell of the toils of travel. Have you eaten?”

I shook my head.

Nora gave me a little smile. “There are many whores around this area. They will be easy prey for you, but do not kill them, Brother.”

I rolled my eyes. “I have been able to control my feedings for much longer than you have been in existence, Sister.”

She smirked. “I suppose you have.” She was silent for a moment. “It is just that I like most of them. They are quite nice, actually.”

I scoffed a little as Nora gave me a dirty look. Only she would befriend the whores in her hunting grounds.

“There is one named Meg. She is a redhead and always wears an emerald green dress. Her blood is the best—if she is not otherwise occupied.”

I nodded and turned to go find this Meg.

“There’s a bit of money on the bureau. I would not want Meg to starve, Eric.”

I turned to face her. “I have some money, Nora. And I would not leave her with nothing.” I sighed in frustration and raised my voice a little, “I was not a caveman in my human life.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Brother. Caveman. Viking. There is little difference.”

“I will give her money and a nice memory. Will that content you?” I asked acerbically.

Her eyes and voice softened. “Let us not fight tonight—if we can help it. Go get your dinner, and by the time you are back, I will have a nice bath ready for you.”

I nodded and sighed. I didn’t want to squabble with her either. I wanted her comfort, though fighting a bit with her had made me feel more like myself than I had in months.

“Thank you, Nora,” I said over my shoulder on my way out.

When I returned from my meal, which had been quite tasty, Nora and I bathed together. After that, I took her body with mine—first quickly and then slowly.

Nora did not, thankfully, ask me anything about my—hopefully—temporary exile from Godric’s sight. She comforted me with her body and held me through my death-rest.

When I rose the next evening, Nora was still in her “death.” I readied myself to go, though I had to wait for the sun to fully set before I did. As it set, Nora awoke. Without words being needed, I kissed her cheek in thanks and then left.

I knew that Nora had been courting a place in the Vampire Authority and had worked for the Guardian more than once during the previous century in order to gain his favor. I also knew that it was her ultimate aim to be a Chancellor. Thus, entanglements—like a wayward vampire brother—would do her no service. And I had gotten what I needed from her—reconnection and comfort.

When I left her, her eyes told me that she understood both why I’d come and why I was leaving so soon. And that understanding—which was mutual—was why I cared so much for her.

[End of Flashback]

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My memories swept through me with the speed at which the explosion had ripped through the vehicle.

A flash of Pam entered my thoughts amidst the flames surrounding me. I realized that my vampire child must now feel very much like I had felt when Godric had sent me away—rejected and empty. Disconnected.

I wondered if I’d be able to contact her soon—to try to repair what had been damaged between us.

My eyes flashed back to Nora’s large brown orbs. She was as beautiful as always. And—as always—I saw promised comfort in her eyes.

I realized that—after Sookie’s rejection—it was comfort that I craved. Comfort that I needed.

That comfort was all I thought about as I crossed over to her in a few long strides.

“Nora,” I said, and then I was kissing her. Familiar. Comforting. And—yes—accepting.

Accepting most of all.

Her hair was silk, just as I remembered. I felt my lips melt into hers, speaking to her through our kiss. I was begging her to save me—not from any Authority flunky, but from myself and the emotions that threatened to overtake me.

That kiss felt like a safe haven—like “base” in a human child’s game of tag.

I was immediately able to relax into her, and I realized then that I’d not relaxed in days—not since I’d been in the arms of Sookie Stackhouse.

I broke our kiss at that thought.

At the same moment, I heard Bill’s fangs retract. “Friend of yours?” the ex-monarch asked, with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.

I turned to him. “It’s my sister—actually.” And then I went back in for another kiss, and for a moment, I thought of nothing else—not even Sookie. It was a blissful moment.

But that moment didn’t last very long.

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A/N: I know that many Eric/Sookie lovers hated the introduction of Nora as a “love interest” for Eric. I don’t agree with some people that Eric was awful for seeking comfort in her. Had Sookie not rejected him, he wouldn’t have sought out Nora’s comfort. I think it was the quick timing that made people angry.  I honestly don’t think Nora was ever a real “threat” to take Eric’s love from Sookie. Regardless, I had to include the relationship between Nora and Eric b/c of the “rules” I set for myself in this story. And I wanted to show this precedence of caring between the “siblings” and to introduce the character of Nora with more “care” than the show gave to her. That’s not saying that her character will turn out well.  It’s just that I want to justify Eric’s affection for her.

Kat

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