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.
I woke up from my day-rest, obviously having “forgotten” my resolution to locate and reattach my balls.
Of course, the truth was that I hadn’t forgotten anything.
It was about twenty minutes before the sun was due to set. Though older than Bill, Nora had not developed the ability to rise before the sun was no longer a danger to her. Many vampires never did. Therefore, I knew I would have a little while to myself.
As if by instinct, I used the time before the others “awoke” to find and assess Sookie through our bond. She was apprehensive. She was anxious. And she was hopeful.
But underneath those emotions, she was continuing to pummel herself with loathing. And underneath that, I could felt her longing. I knew what she longed for; I longed for the same thing—connection.
Connection with each other.
The bond wanted it. I wanted it.
I had to remind myself that she didn’t.
I shook my head, not having forgotten my mantra. “Fuck Sookie,” I said out loud into the dark storage container. Indeed, Fuck her! After all, Sookie knew the fucking number of my secure phone and could have called me if she’d changed her mind about severing our connection.
With that thought, I quickly checked my phone. Maybe she had called.
I angrily shoved the device back into my pocket and stood up, opening the doors the moment that it was safe to do so.
I was looking at the gray of the early night when two cool hands snaked around my stomach from behind.
“Would you like to tell me what’s wrong, Brother?” Nora asked.
I leaned into her and saw that Bill was still asleep. He’d probably stay that way for another ten minutes or so. Most vampires under 200 years old slept until the night was truly dark. I enjoyed the dusk; in my opinion, disappearing light was better than none at all.
“No,” I said simply. I didn’t feel like talking. I didn’t want to rake the scabs from my wounds; they were tenuously hanging on as it was.
I wanted to be numb.
“You are going to keep up your wallowing—then?” Nora asked. “You know—you are never pleasant when you are moody.”
“I’m not moody,” I grumbled.
“Of course not,” Nora said sarcastically, breaking her physical contact with me and stepping around so that she could face me. “Well—would you like to tell me what you are not wallowing and not moody about?”
I gave her a half-smile. “I never liked how well you could read me, Sister.”
“Nor did your pocketbook when we played at cards,” she smiled back.
She glanced out into the gray twilight. “Are you saddened by the life you leave behind, Brother? I know that you have businesses and a child. I’m sure that, after a time, you can arrange for Pamela to know where you are, and surely, Mr. Packrat, you still have some of that money you always hoarded around the world.”
“Yes,” I said simply. “I have access to plenty of money. And I will call Pam to me soon enough—once I am certain she will not be followed.”
“Then what is it?” Nora asked.
“A woman,” I admitted.
“The same one Mr. Compton is mooning over as well?” she asked perceptively.
“Yes,” I relented. “She is quite a woman.”
“The one you told me about? The telepath who stayed with Godric?” she asked.
Damn! She was always too perceptive. “Yes,” I confirmed simply.
“You love her?” Nora asked.
“Yes.” It was another simple answer, but the feelings behind it were anything but. I craved a little simplicity.
“I did not think I would live to see the day when you loved like this, Brother, and I always intended to live for a very long time,” Nora half-quipped.
“She is quite a woman,” I repeated in a low voice.
“Yes—you said that already,” Nora responded, her voice devoid of anything other than care.
“I bonded with her,” I said almost contritely, though I felt no real regret—not about that. Even if I’d had all my memories in the cubby, I would have wanted the same thing.
“You what?” Nora asked, clearly agitated. “But how can you be sure? You likely just exchanged, Eric. Godric always told us how difficult it is to form a bond.”
Nora seemed to be looking for a way out for me—an escape from the bond I’d made, as if it were a chain. Maybe it was. I took her in with a wry smile; it was sweet of her to be so concerned―really.
“Surely, you did not actually bond,” she insisted.
“Yes—a first bond,” I said.
“Perhaps it did not take,” Nora reasoned. “Bonds don’t always take—you know.”
“It took. I am certain,” I said with significance, knowing she’d understand my meaning.
Nora looked at me with wide eyes. “You felt it? Actually experienced it? The euphoria?”
“What was it like?” she asked with a little awe in her voice.
“Euphoric,” I deadpanned.
Nora rolled her eyes and then scrutinized me for a moment. “Then she should be here with you. I will arrange for her to have papers too. One phone call, Eric, and it . . . .”
I cut her off gruffly. “That will not be necessary.”
She narrowed her eyes. “But to be without her now will cause you pain. It is probably already doing so if she is still all the way in Bon Temps.”
“As I indicated, we have made only one exchange,” I said evenly, neither confirming nor denying the huge and very painful ache in my body. “And the bond will fade in time as long as there is no more blood exchanged between us.”
“Eric, her place is with you,” Nora insisted. “If you chose her like that, it is with you!” She paused. “If you trust no one else, I will go get her myself after you and Bill are gone, and I promise that I will bring her to you safely.”
I scoffed. “You cannot return to me something which is not mine, Nora.”
“But the bond makes her yours, Eric,” Nora pointed out.
“Sookie Stackhouse does not wish to belong to me,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Does she belong to Mr. Compton—then?” Nora asked, looked over at the still-sleeping vampire.
I shook my head. “Sookie has chosen to belong to neither of us.” My fingers were biting into my palms because of the pressure of the fists I was making to keep myself under control.
“But you want her to belong to you,” Nora aptly observed.
I looked into the darkening sky and answered Nora’s question with an almost imperceptible nod.
We were silent for a few moments.
“Do you want to talk about it anymore?” Nora asked compassionately.
“Talk about what?” Bill queried as he rose and stretched his limbs.
“No,” I said ignoring Bill and boring a look into Nora. “I want to fuck about it.”
She gave me a little smile. “Mr. Compton, would you mind giving Eric and myself some time alone?”
Bill looked at me with a bit of surprise, but he nodded and quickly left the container.
But—to experience that physical pleasure—I had to actively prevent myself from thinking about why Nora didn’t feel ‘best.’ There was only one who would ever feel like that. And for the moment, I needed to forget that ‘one‘; I needed for the world to feel simple again—manageable.
I pounded into Nora roughly, taking her from behind as we stood. Her hands were braced against the side of the storage container. It was a good thing; otherwise, I might have fucked her right through it.
Despite my efforts to stay focused on the moment, I felt my mind drifting—drifting toward guilt, drifting toward how wrong Nora felt around me, despite the fact that she felt good.
I missed a beat with my thrusts, and as if Nora could sense exactly what I was feeling and as if she knew exactly how to make it better, she grunted loudly and quickly turned us around, pushing my back against the metal wall—hard.
I thrust into her again, pulling her leg onto my thigh so that I could go deeper.
“I miss you sister,” I said in Swedish. I did miss her.
I knew she meant it. I knew that she wanted me to be there with her in that moment. I also knew that her desire had little to do with the sex—though she was obviously enjoying it. More than physical pleasure, however, she knew that I needed something else, something similar to what I’d needed more than half a century before in London.
And—for that understanding—I cherished my sister.
I picked her up and wrapped her legs around my hips before turning her and thrusting back into her as her back thrust against the wall.
If it had been Sookie in my arms, I would have never pounded into her so forcefully—almost mercilessly—not that being “gentle” with Sookie had ever lessened my pleasure. On the contrary—it had increased it to a great extent. I just never wanted to hurt her, and a vampire did have to hold back with a human.
That was just a fact.
Bill had purposely made Sookie feel insecure about this fact when he’d screwed Lorena. Of course, his motives had been “good”; he’d wanted her to stay away from him. He’d wanted to hurt her so that Russell, his Weres, and Lorena could not hurt her worse.
But even the most well-intentioned actions often had consequences. Sookie had told me about Bill’s comments during that long day in the cubby; she’d been worried that I hadn’t been satisfied by our sex, and she’d wanted to know if there was anything that she could do to make it “better.”
I’d been flabbergasted by her words. How could someone make “best” better? Even in my amnesic state, I’d not seen the logic in that, and I’d told her so.
She’d joked—in that insecure way that she had sometimes—that I was likely just satisfied because I couldn’t remember having sex with anyone else.
But that wasn’t the truth. The truth was that I’d never felt anything as exquisite as being connected to Sookie. We had a way of moving together, which had felt perfect—right. It had come to us naturally, our bodies just seeming to react as one. We had flowed in and out of each other as if we had been practicing our dance for all of my thousand years. We had spoken in ways that words could never speak.
No—screwing Sookie as I was screwing Nora wouldn’t have been possible.
Frustrated, I tried to shake myself out of my current Sookie-induced haze. Again, I felt anger. My body just wanted to enjoy its fuck! But now that Sookie Stackhouse was filtering into my head, I felt my carnal desire slipping away from me.
I grunted and drove into Nora again, glad that at least my body still knew “how” to fuck, even if my mind didn’t know how to enjoy it. I was irritated at myself for letting Sookie into this moment, frustrated that I could no longer just enjoy Nora without comparing her to a woman who clearly didn’t want me as I wanted her. Mostly, I was forlorn that I would never again feel sex with the partner I truly craved.
Luckily, I was drawn out of my melancholic thoughts by the unlikeliest of sources: Bill Compton. I heard Bill’s amused voice from outside, “You might want to keep the noise down in there. New Orleans is only sixty miles away.”
Thanks to Bill—I was distracted just enough to pull myself out of my swirling thoughts about Sookie so that I could refocus on Nora. If my vampire sister had known that I was trying to keep myself hard—even as I was fucking her—she would have likely kicked my ass.
“Thank you, Bill,” I thought to myself. I was grateful for the “wake-up call,” but even more thankful that Bill’s voice had held no judgment. Of all people, Bill was the most likely to judge me as unworthy of Sookie because of my carnal actions with Nora. But the Civil War veteran’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and amusement, not derision. And as I looked into Nora’s eyes, I was thankful for that fact.
Nora was smiling like someone who had been caught doing something very naughty. Her expression was delicious. I could work with delicious.
“What if he is right?” I purred in Swedish. I closed my eyes momentarily as I felt her clamp down her internal muscles. Yes—delicious. “Do you think they can hear us?”
I thrust deeply into her, feeling that she was close to exploding around me and wanting to be right there with her. I wasn’t sure that I could be, but I was damned sure going to try, and if it did take me a bit longer to get to the promised land—well—then I’d be sure to give Nora a couple of additional orgasms along the way.
“Sookie,” was my initial thought. Very few knew the number of my untraceable phone. I’d programmed it into Sookie’s phone after she’d saved me from burning at the stake—just the night before. I’d programmed it before she’d fed me and Bill―before she’d rejected us both. But no—it couldn’t be her. I’d given her a different ring tone. Knowing that it wasn’t her gave me pain, and I kept thrusting into Nora, looking for some relief for that pain.
“Uhhhhh,” I groaned. Pulling anyone’s hair fucking hurt—vampire or not!
So much for relief.
A/N: I hope you liked the added scene at the beginning of this chapter. In the actual episode, I’d been “jarred” by the suddenness of the Eric/Nora sex, even though I didn’t “blame” Eric. As an Eric/Sookie lover, it was a hard scene to watch and write, but-again-my rules made me do it.