Karma's Muse | By : xXxDaydreamJunkiexXx Category: S through Z > True Blood Views: 5882 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do NOT own, profit, or pretend to originate True Blood or its characters. All rights belong to Charlaine Harris and Alan Ball. |
"It ain't your fault Belle…you…we tried."
Stan stood behind Isobel with a hand hovering over her shoulder. He so desperately wanted to comfort her, but knew without a doubt, there wasn't any to give. It had been two days since they had performed the transformation, having clawed to the surface of the abandoned work zone, digging up through the earthly blanket and pulling out their Sheriff's only love. The sun had just set over the horizon but fading whispers of twilight remained. Isobel could have been a statue. She stood over the slight, pale, and lifeless form of Alana, with streaks of crimson blood flowing down her cheeks-silent. "Belle-" Stan was pleading, "We have to go. I don't trust the King. I know he musta sent assassins out after us." She looked beautiful still. Even with pieces of loose dirt covering her milk chocolate hair and red pantsuit, Isobel looked regal. She wore her proud manner like an armor, which offered little protection if any, against the guilt of this tragedy. "Let them come. I will share her fate-but I will NOT leave her." Isobel's voice had a hard edge to it that Stan was all too familiar with. It said without saying my mind is made. He sighed and turned away from her, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, while muttering about the stupid sentimentality of women. Flashes of Alana crossed his mind. The little spitfire had the greenest eyes he'd ever seen. She had proven herself in such a short time to have true courage. Her spirit seemed way too big to be held in such a tiny package. Stan was sad beyond words to have the knowledge-he would never get to see them again. Isobel dropped down beside Alana and gently stroked her face with a fingertip. "My friend…" She whispered. All traces of the fading sun had left the sky, transforming the limbo or in between time, into the full-fledged pitch of what was night upon the cemetery. The silvered moon and dim twinkling stars overhead, however silent in their backdrop; bared witness to the moment just the same. No air even dared to stir; no creature present cast a sound, the environment was as if on pause-all was hush. Stan could stand it no longer. "God-damn it woman," He screamed with frustration while rounding on Isobel, "I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself." He dropped down beside her and took a hold of her shoulders, shaking them to further add to his statement. Isobel refused to meet his intensely wild stare, and continued to cast her gaze to what was now the corpse of Alana. "I-" Isobel choked on the syllable, her body slumping into Stan and his welcoming embrace. "Shhh," Stan felt the first true internal sigh of relief, that maybe just maybe, he was going to be able to handle this-handle her. "I've got you darlin…" Stan finished his sentence in his head… and I ain't ever letting go… Isobel's wracking sobs invaded the solitude and tested the flannel fabric of Stan's shirt. The sticky fluid of her tears, coated and soaked his front, but he barely noticed. He held her and tried to give what strength he could-keeping the unspoken promise to himself and his pledge to her sacred…he never let go. "I'm so sorry Belle." Stan's apology was genuine. Somehow they had begun to rock, and like a mother soothes her newborn babe, Stan had cradled Isobel into his lap to coo and console, trying to ease her distress and relieve her pain. Neither noticed or registered that an unknown supernatural occurrence was taking place. The very atmosphere had changed and had taken on a charge of commanding energy. Something powerful and peculiar was happening. Electricity sparked the ozone and an aura settled to hover three feet over the ground. Colorful swirls of gold, green, and vibrant blues pulsed. A hum vibrated on too high a frequency for normal hearing to register, but to one such as a vampire, it sang like the high pitched note of a harp. Isobel stiffened in Stan's now tense embrace. Both looked over to their charge in awe and disbelief. Isobel gasped unnecessarily and seemed to have lost the ability to speak, but Stan however couldn't help himself; breaking the almost holy sound like a fart in church. His Texan drawl started out deep and manly, but much to his chagrin, ended with the shrillness of a young girl frightened by a mouse. "What- The- F-u-u-u-ck!" Isobel swatted his chest in reprimand having snapped out of her shock. Stan sheepishly blinked at her sideways, afraid to turn his head from what he was seeing. Both revered what was happening and for the first time-in a long time-felt in the presence of something more powerful than either had dared hoped still existed. Isobel clutched at Stan's arm when the lighted mist enveloped Alana, seeming to enter through her nose and cause the pallid skin of her face to glow with its shine. "It cannot be…" She whispered, more to herself than him, but Stan answered her anyway. "Oh it can Belle-and it IS" He cleared the lump in his throat, telling himself he must of inadvertently inhaled some of the dirt from crawling out of the hole. Because real men (especially vampires) like him didn't get scared…why even in his human life, he didn't wet his skivvies easily. But in this time, in this place, and in this moment; he almost wished he was capable of such a thing. His own voice quavered when he spoke next, stating the fact that they both were thinking but were speedily trying to deny. "She's been chosen." Isobel started to giggle. Stan thought to himself with a sigh, Yup she's finally cracked her nut, but found to his own surprise, he was joining her. Their tickled fits and bursts of glee created an unintentional accompaniment, to the surreal orchestra which had increased its glory to finally break the sound barrier to be heard by all. Stan swiped a finger across his cheek, wiping the escaping tears from his eyes with relief. Lil miss was going to be okay…yes siree…he reckoned she was going to be just fine. He hugged Isobel more tightly to his body, and to her amazement, gave a big wet kiss to her cheek. He didn't know how it was possible nor did he give a damn, all he knew with certainty was one thing… he couldn't have been happier.A roar of victory echoed throughout the chamber. The antique broadsword easily sliced through the unsuspecting guard with little effort; spraying blood rather artistically, to coat the cobblestone walls of the dungeon. The former hulking ape of a vamp, liquefied to be nothing more than a pile of soggy clothes at his feet. Eric leapt over the already forgotten heap.
One kick of his well-muscled leg swung another mahogany door off its hinges, splintering the hard wood, as if it was nothing more than flimsy tissue paper. "Godric-" He grunted over his shoulder, "Twenty more, upper level-some Weres too." Godric smiled serenely and nodded affirmation. Walking calmly through the carnage his Child had created. He thought he had indulged Eric enough, it was time to end this swiftly; he needed to find Alana. Eric had nearly eradicated all occupants of this lower level, after freeing Godric from his silver chains of course. His search was frenzied and thorough, like that of a berserker. The bloodlust consuming him and demanding fulfillment- none would be spared or fortunate enough to flee his wrath. "Halt my Child," The command was gentle yet firm. The tall blonde specimen that was his froze midst stride and slowly turned to face the much shorter, much older mentor, that he'd never stopped admiring. Eric remained in warrior stance but the question flashed in his eyes-Why? "I agree that there is a need to purge the compound of Felipe's filthy and deceitful cohorts, but I have a more pressing matter with which to attend-" Eric cut him off. "What could possibly be more pressing," He emphasized the word with dry sarcasm, "than destroying your enemies and finding out if Felipe acted alone?" Godric's memories of raven hair, emerald eyes, and sighs of contented pleasure flashed in his mind's eye. Only to be replaced in a mere millisecond with twisted metal, FOTS scum, and his love- limp, barely alive, and unmoving. He snapped to the present and addressed his progeny more harshly than was intended. "I Will Not Be Questioned." Eric shrank slightly at the reprimand before straightening to his fullest stature with a curt nod. Godric softened slightly and came next to him, laying a hand on his rock hard chest. "All will be explained soon enough. Trust in my judgment-trust in me." Eric's sea foam blue eyes widened and he instantly felt shame. "Always Godric," He brought the smaller hand of his maker to his lips, kissing it chastely, "Forgive me." They stood for a second just looking into each other's eyes. Many years shared and spanning centuries behind them. If their long dead hearts could've beat, they would have quickened pace at this moment. "No need for apologies." Godric finally murmured, breaking the spell. "Come." He stepped around Eric and closed his eyes to hone in on their situation, using his heightened senses to best plan the quickest exit. Without another word he turned to make way towards a stairwell he believed would lead them to the garage where Felipe stored his many cars. Eric sheathed his sword, swinging the harness over his back to follow suit. The torches lining the passage flickered, almost being extinguished, by the two whirring hulks speeding past. They succeeded rather uneventfully, as Godric had chosen the route devoid of any and all occupants of the mansion. No doubt once it was discovered that the two millennia old captive had escaped, the alarm would be sounded. Yet- just this once, luck seemed to be their temporary companion. Godric slowed beside a sturdy black SUV, sporting tinted bulletproof glass and shiny chrome rims. He was about to open the driver's side when his Child’s voice excitedly called to him; whispering from the other side of the garage, across fifteen or more vehicles. "Godric, please not that one- I found something more perfect…over here." There was whiny, almost hopeful sound to his voice that reminded Godric slightly of begging. He found like most parents, he couldn't deny his Childe this request, which was nothing more than a petty pretense, to an obvious demand. So with a heavy sigh and no surprise, he walked over to where Eric was standing. His progeny beamed down at him with a hundred watt smile, conveying what they both already knew…he'd gotten his way. Eric's arm swept dramatically over the cranberry vintage finish of a '69 Chevy Corvette; like it was on display in a showcase of The Price Is Right. "This will suit us better, yes?" Godric rolled his eyes at the cockiness of the statement. But silently agreed this choice would definitely harbor more horsepower and less bulk. He doubted Eric's reasoning had anything to do with this however. The vain, style obsessed Viking, was always attracted to the more beautiful and superficial luxuries. He briefly pondered if it was a shortcoming on his part, not instilling the more meaningful value of life or appreciation of the simple things, while raising him- Deciding no more time should be wasted on the past, and some things could wait for further consideration, while others (like Alana) could not; he made haste to get into the bucket seat of the hot rod-shotgun, as Eric was already adjusting the driver's side to accommodate his long legs. Within moments the wires were tripped and the engine roared to life. Eric pulled out his designer shades, from what pocket Godric hadn't a clue. He cocked a brow to his Maker before putting them on, making Godric smile, while gunning the throttle before taking off. Navigation out of the garage proved easy enough but they had yet to breach the wall, sporting the only exit off the property. There were guards posted with M-16's on each side of the mechanical gateway. "Look at them Godric- little bitches," Eric gripped the wheel and increased the car's speed across the long asphalt expanse of the driveway, "only Felipe would be stupid enough to trust Weres to protect his sanctuary at night." Eric was little more than disgusted but secretly thanking the former King's poor judgment; slowing down to come to a stop right in front of them, rolling down the window. "Hey boys." He casually leaned out the window. Both walked over to inspect the inhabitants of the Corvette, pondering rather slowly in their brains, why the vamp King hadn't called ahead to tell them his car was leaving; as was protocol. Before either could blink fast twice, the spell of Eric's glamour had been cast, and both were caught; hook, line, and sinker. "You will open this gate and let us through. You will NOT remember us. Is that understood?" Both nodded dumbly, and Eric found he just couldn't resist. "After we leave you will both have the overwhelming desire to fuck each other," He let a small raspy chuckle escape, breaking his hypnotic tones for just a moment, when his Maker muttered beside him, "Oh Eric, when will you grow up?" "You will squeal like pigs and take each other in all ways possible in front of the gate, while shouting - Felipe does it better-…" The red headed ginger Were was already stripping off his navy blue work pants, while the tow headed one cast his rifle aside to drop to the grass; unlacing his boots clumsily with a sense of urgency. "Let Us Out First!" Eric snapped impatiently. "Oh-Yes Sir," The ginger one with socks in hand, jumped over to do his bidding, "Just a moment Sir." The button was pressed and the heavy Iron Gate groaned as it moved to swing out before them; the street being just over the threshold. Eric gave a mock salute, rolling up the window and pulling out to freedom. He spared a look to Godric, who was holding his head in hands as if it ached, but the shuddering of his shoulders betrayed him. He was laughing. Eric was proud to have been the cause and sat up a little straighter in his seat. "Just like old times." He said while turning on the radio. Godric broke his merriment and lovingly regarded his pride and joy. "Yes it is my Child. I have missed you." Eric blinked back the emotion stinging his eyes and thickly asked. "Where to?" Godric touched on his bond to Alana and became frantic, leaning forward to dent the dash with his white knuckled hold. "The Dallas Memorial Cemetery…" He shouted fiercely, "HURRY." Eric needed to hear nothing further and pushed the limits of the Corvette harder, speeding towards the demanded destination with a niggling feeling he was unaccustomed to, making a new home for itself in the back of his mind. For the first time in centuries his Maker was acting violently with uncontrolled emotion. Something he'd always been taught to suppress or overcome. So it took some time for the Viking to identify this foreign sensation… He looked to Godric stoically, evaluating his behavior with cool calculation. His Maker's fangs were bared, savage battle growls emitted from his throat; at the windshield and at nothing as they raced forward. He could only wonder what or who could've possibly caused him to act this undone. Eric found he didn't care much for this change one bit…in Godric or in himself. Eric Northman was not used to being afraid.While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. 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