Disclaimer: The characters belong to Charlaine Harris, and I am writing them in the world that Alan Ball created. Nothing is mine, regrettably.
Warning(s): Slash, language, briefly mentions drinking from children.
A/N: This fic contains spoilers for episode 3x12 "Evil Is Going On." I loved the moments between Eric and Godric in the season finale, and wanted to go deeper into them. I know I can write sappy Eric/Godric, but hopefully this isn't too much so. Enjoy.
Out of nowhere, Godric appeared. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his maker again, and now that he had, all situations considered, he wished that Godric was anywhere but here. He was so burned from the sun that his lips could not even curve into a smile, and his insides so destroyed that they didn't leap as they always did whenever Godric was around him.
I never wanted you to see me like this.
He expected Godric to be happy for him, happy that after a thousand years, he was finally getting the revenge he craved with every cell in his body. But his maker did not look pleased; he looked concerned and full of sorrow. Well, hell…if the afterlife made one so sad, no wonder everyone wanted to be immortal nowadays.
Too bad his immortality won't last for much longer, now.
"Forgive him, Eric," Godric spoke to him. His voice was wispy and beautiful, like a fond memory that one recalls whenever one wants to smile and feel completely delighted. Godric's words, on the other hand, felt like silver in his veins, poisoning his blood and causing his whole body to contort with the most extreme pain that he'd ever experienced.
Eric wished that Godric was kidding, that any second his face will break into the biggest grin, that he'll slap his knee, and tell him to get the show on the road, but Eric knew without a doubt that he wasn't.
Forgiveness was nowhere on Eric's agenda. It never was. Even if he never made that promise to his father, he'd still desire to get even, and Godric understood that once. Godric wanted him to get his revenge; he helped Eric hunt Russell down whenever they had the chance, and a couple of times they came close. So close. But never close enough.
"End all this hate while you still can." He never could. That was never an option. Ever. His only option was get even or die trying. Godric knew that, and he knew Eric's pain. Having him here, telling Eric to let it all go was a form of betrayal, and Eric refused to even meet his maker's gaze. All he felt then was anger; anger toward Russell, anger toward Godric, but above all anger toward himself that now he has the opportunity to end Russell once and for all, yet he couldn't. He could not do something that Godric didn't agree with.
He might not be tied to Godric through their bond any longer, but he was still tied to him through his heart.
"Forgiveness is love." He knew that; how many times had Godric forgiven him for all of his wrongdoings? There were too many times to count, and Godric wouldn't have done that if he didn't love him. Love for Russell, though, didn't exist—couldn't exist.
"Love is all." Long forgotten memories flew into Eric's mind. He remembered when Godric taught him how to hunt for blood. "There is no right and wrong," Godric would tell him, "Only survival." And thus, he learned how to survive; no, killing humans was not right, nor was it wrong—his life was contingent upon, so it had to be done. He remembered when Godric showed him all the beauty in the world; how the trees danced in the wind and how the flowers smiled, how the moonlight illuminated their surrounding so perfectly that he almost never missed the sunshine. He remembered Godric telling him the ways of the world, not only the one that only existed for vampires, but the human world as well, and how judgment should be rare, but vengeance should be taken when necessary.
Killing Russell Edgington was always necessary in both their minds, till now.
"No," Eric said, and that tiny word of denial caused him so much pain to say that his voice cracked like a chain smoker's. It had nothing to do with the deadly rays of the sun, but everything to do with rejecting Godric's pure wish and hope that he would show love and mercy where Russell had none. Eric was not that kind of vampire, he never was. Godric never taught him to be that kind of vampire till he was so near his death in Dallas when he would drop a subtle hint here and there about doing things for the greater good of society. And then, it was too late. How was Eric to break what had become so habitual, so ingrained into his very being after a thousand years of existence?
How, Godric, tell me how and I will try. For you.
"I swore to my father," Eric explained, still refusing to look upon his beloved maker. He knew he would not be able to stand the expression on Godric's face; he would fall to his knees before Godric, red tears streaming down his face, and yell at him why—why was he telling Eric this when he knew it was killing him, why was he gone for so long and didn't tell Eric where he was, why did he give up and meet the sun, ending their life together so abruptly that Eric felt like his body was severed in two?
Why did you do it? Why did you leave me here alone?
"Only peace follows death for all. Even for him." His heart leapt and then shattered. Russell could never know peace; he stole everything from Eric and as a young man, Eric knew that peace was not in the cards for him in this life, and believed it to not exist after he died. Russell did not deserve peace. For all the evil he was and all the lives he'd ruined and all the blood he carelessly shed, the only justifiable outcome for him was torture and pain after death.
And he screamed. Screamed for all he was worth, because no matter what, he would never get the vengeance he so deeply desired. Either Russell would live on and enjoy his immortal life, or he would die and relish in the most tranquil bliss he could ever imagine.
Life wasn't fair, especially for the immortals since they lived so much of it.
"Eric, forgive him in the brief time you have left," Godric told him, and Eric finally managed to turn his head toward his maker. His face was glorious to see again, even though he was not entirely whole but a mere memory of who he once was.
Why aren't you telling me to save myself?
"No forgiveness," Eric said through his burned throat. He knew that Godric was upset at him from the way he was looking upon him.
Well, Godric, that makes two of us.
His skin was no longer burnt, but he was still in pain.
As he lay in his coffin, he thought of Godric, how he appeared to him, and all the things he said. He knew that Godric changed in Dallas—that much was clear—but he didn't know how much. It was like he didn't even know who Godric was anymore, and that was saying something.
When Eric finally drifted off to sleep, he dreamed of him…
"See the trees, Eric?" Godric asked, gently caressing the bark of a healthy tree in the lively forest as if it were an old friend. He turned back to his child and smiled from ear to ear. "Aren't they magical?"
He ran across the green field and joined his maker in front of the tall tree, his alabaster skin glistening playfully in the moonlight. Eric looked down at Godric, sincere love etched all over his face, and he placed a hand on Godric's shoulder. He never felt as connected to nature as his maker did, but he loved it when Godric told him all about it. "They are," Eric agreed, wrapping an arm around Godric's small frame.
"They make me feel alive although I am not," Godric admitted, bringing his face close to the bark and inhaling its distinct scent. He reached up and touched the leaves of the tree softly with his fingertips.
Eric's hand traveled down Godric's front as he nuzzled his face into the curve of his neck. "And how do I make you feel?" Eric asked, pressing his lips to Godric's skin, placing light kisses.
Godric rolled his eyes, but smiled. He wiggled in Eric's arms so that he could look up at the vampire he made. "Do you only think about sex?"
He stroked Godric's cheek with the back of his hand. "How can I not when I am with you?"
"How can you be so focused on me when there is all this beauty around us?" Godric asked, gesturing towards the trees, the bushes, the flowers and the leaves that covered the abundant forest. He bent down, and plucked up a tiny white flower. He brought it to his nose to inhale its lovely scent before he reached up to tuck it behind Eric's ear.
"They pale in comparison to you," Eric informed Godric before he captured his lips in a searing kiss, tangling his fingers in Godric's dark hair. He loved how Godric's lips were always so smooth and soft; they were never ravaged when he was alive by a hungry mouth, but they certainly were now that Godric was dead and he was Eric's.
Godric held onto Eric's strong arms as if they were the only thing keeping him from meeting the true death. That was one of the things that Eric loved most about him; his touch, gentle yet persistent, always enough for Eric to truly know and feel all of Godric's love.
"Here?" Godric asked once Eric pulled his lips away from his mouth, only to latch onto his small throat. Godric tilted his head to the side, offering up more of himself to his progeny as he leaned against the bark of the tree for support. A small gasp escaped his parted lips when Eric's fangs sunk into his flesh, sucking up only a taste of his rich nectar. "Are you sure?"
Eric grunted his answer into the curve of Godric's neck as he licked the tiny wounds clean. He pushed Godric down onto the earth, and the smaller vampire landed in a bed of soft grass and blooming flowers. Eric knelt down, one knee on either side of Godric's lithe hips as his fingers quickly glided over the flimsy strings of Godric's ivory tunic. Godric arched his back up like a pulled bow and hissed when the cool, crisp air washed over his pale skin; it was a sight that Eric would never tire of even if he truly lived for all of eternity.
It was an odd relationship that they shared, but it was theirs and theirs alone. Godric looked so much younger than him, appeared to be just a child to humans, yet he was so much older and had so many more experiences that Eric could not even begin to fathom. Godric had complete control over Eric in every single way imaginable, yet he loved to be dominated by his child, enjoyed being beneath Eric during their love-making. Godric took Eric's first life from him—his true, human life—yet Eric never once sought for revenge against his maker despite the fact that Godric was ultimately responsible for his death because he had given him so much in return: companionship, friendship, love.
Godric's small hands moved across Eric's frame, peeling his clothes from his cool body before he pulled Eric down and pressed their bare chests together. Godric's brows furrowed at the contact; his head tossed back and his lips slightly parted as he rocked his hips upward involuntarily. While they were both cold, together they felt hot as their flesh molded into one stretch of skin.
Quick hands worked off two pairs of pants and they lay there, motionless, relishing in the feeling of nothing in between them to keep them apart. Even though he could have Godric whenever he pleased, Eric missed the touch of him constantly. His seeking fingers slid their way inside of his beloved, curling up to graze gently over that spot that made Godric's whole body contort wildly from pleasure. Eric's other hand gripped Godric's cock, swirling the pearly liquid that leaked out of the tip over the twitching shaft, applying just the right amount of pressure that Godric liked. In that moment, he remembered the first time he fisted Godric off: "No," his maker said, hissing as his hand grasped Eric's. "Not so rough and quick. Do it like this." Eric had since become a master at jerking Godric off; he could do it countless times in a row and still have Godric begging for more.
"Don't tease me," Godric said, almost pleading. He loved playing this game; begging Eric even though he could command anything of his progeny, all he had to do was say the words. Commandments were not required tonight; however, nor were they required any night, for Eric was only too happy to remove his fingers from Godric's taut channel and thrust inside. It was always a difficult task to work past Godric's tight ring of muscle, but he never complained of pain and let Eric move with as much or as little fervor as he wanted. Tonight was special; the pace Eric set was slow, causing every cell of Godric's body to tingle with want as the glorious moonlight shown on their skin. The flower that he placed was still tucked safely behind Eric's ear, and Godric smiled widely at the sight of it as he snaked his arms to wrap around Eric's back and his legs around his waist. One strong arm curved beneath his frame, and Eric lifted him up, still buried deep inside as he pulled Godric onto his lap. Two hands gripped him at his hips, bringing his body up and down on Eric's cock, filling him so completely that Godric felt like he'd split in two as his frantic hands searched for Eric's broad shoulders to hold on to. Eric moved in and out of him faster, desperate and determined as Godric's fangs found his neck, sinking in so gently that he barely felt it till Godric sucked up mouthfuls of his blood. Eric moaned at the sensation of his blood being drawn out of his body and into the one that he was so connected with, and his hand started to pump Godric's throbbing cock again, loving how Godric whimpered into his neck as he drank from him and knowing that it won't be long now. He leaned down, swiped his tongue along Godric's ear before he whispered in Godric's ear, telling him about all the love he had for him. Godric slammed down once more onto Eric's cock as his body stilled, surges of pleasure traveling through his veins quickly as he shuddered and spilled into Eric's hand with his blood on his tongue. Eric took the grand opportunity to sink his teeth just above Godric's collarbone, tasting his blood while his body was lit up with arousal as his hips rocked up with such a speed that only a vampire could muster. He slid inside of Godric, past his clenching ring of muscle till he came, splashing into Godric's depths, feeling more connected to his maker than he ever had before.
Godric rolled off Eric and lay beside him. He threw his arm over his child's larger frame and snuggled into his chest. "I don't deserve you," he said thoughtfully as he pressed his lips to just below Eric's still-raised nipple.
"Yes you do, just like I deserve you," Eric responded, tousling Godric's soft hair with his large hand. "We're killers by instinct; we deserve each other, and I wouldn't have it any other way."
He didn't argue, because Eric was right; if they were better men, then perhaps they would not deserve each other. But they were lesser men, manipulators and murderers by nature, and they made the perfect match because of it. "Any specific cravings you're having for blood tonight?"
"Besides yours?" Eric asked, bringing Godric's wrist up to his mouth and nipping it softly. He licked up the blood that flowed from the tiny wounds till they healed. "How about a young woman? Not necessarily a virgin unless we can find one, but a woman who is not married yet and does not have children."
Godric's eyes glazed over when he thought of virgin blood. It was so delicious, yet so rare in this town unless they fed on children; an act they committed every once in a while when the young, innocent blood smelled far too appetizing to pass up. "If that is what you want, then it is what I want, my child," Godric told him, running his fingertips lightly across Eric's bare chest, traveling down to his firm thighs. "You glamour the woman we find, though. You've gotten to be so good at it."
"Because you've taught me well," Eric responded, placing his red lips to Godric's softly.
He woke up with a plan for Russell Edgington; he would follow Godric's wishes and not kill him, but he definitely was not going to just forgive the crazed vampire and let him go on his merry way. Killing Talbot was revenge, but it was not enough to satisfy him.
At least, not yet.
If Godric appeared to him again tonight, then he'd just have to be disappointed with Eric. He could not, would not, free Russell without making him suffer. If Godric no longer understood his crave for vengeance, then Eric simply did not know his maker anymore.
Since Russell refused to listen to Eric when he ordered him to stand up, Eric dragged him along by the silver chain that was still encircled around his scorched neck. He ignored Russell's gut-wrenching wailing as he tossed his wasted body in the back of Alcide's truck and climbed in behind him, followed closely by Bill. He tapped on the wall of Alcide's truck, felt the vehicle give a great lurch, and then they took off.
"Your plans for him involve concrete?" Bill asked, gesturing toward the concrete mixer in front of them that took up most of the trunk.
He nodded weakly without looking at Bill or Russell. Eric was staring just beyond the mixer, gazing directly into Godric's sad eyes, a frown so evident on his beautiful face. It hurt Eric to see him looking at him like that.
"Don't do this, Eric," Godric told him. It wasn't a command, nor was it a plea; it was just humble request—a request Eric could not fulfill. It was too late to turn back now; a thousand years too late.
You've given me no other option, Godric.
Eric laid down a layer of wet concrete before he and Bill tossed Russell into the square pit. He was satisfied with his decision; Eric was not going to kill Russell since he did not want him to be able to have any kind of peace in the afterlife. Russell did not deserve tranquility; he deserved an eternity of missing Talbot, knowing that he signed away his husband's life when he trusted him to Eric's care. He'd spend one hundred years chained with silver and buried beneath several feet of concrete where he would go insane with all his grief and misery.
Knowing that was best of all.
"Why don't you just have your fucking revenge?" Russell asked, his burned lips cracking.
"That was the original plan," Eric told him, gripping the button that started the concrete mixer tightly. "Then I was thinking—how can I know, beyond a shadow of doubt, that you won't find any semblance of peace after you meet the true death."
"Everyone deserves peace," Godric told him, appearing again just beyond the pit where Russell Edgington lay.
Eric glanced up, meeting the gaze of his maker, but otherwise, he ignored Godric. He didn't need this right now, just like he didn't need it earlier today. Not from Godric.
Why don't you understand anymore?
"I cannot bear the thought of you finding any redemption whatsoever," Eric said, looking back at Russell as his thumb caressed the button to start the concrete. Russell did not deserve redemption; not after he ordered his wolves to brutally murder his father, mother, and baby sister all because a couple of fucking goats. Eric might not have treated his father with the respect he deserved as king, but he loved him all the same. His father was blood of his blood, flesh of his flesh; he missed his father—although he did not remember much about him after a thousand years—and he was still extremely loyal to him after all these years. "Have fun."
"You make me bleed, my child." Those words were like a blunt stake to his heart, digging into his flesh unapologetically until he exploded. His sweet words—my child—caused Eric more pain than the sun could ever bestow. How could Godric say such a thing after Godric himself told him, "You need to get the vengeance you deserve, your father deserves, and I will help you get it." He had given anything to get Godric back before, for him to be alive again. Now he just wanted all the pain to stop. It was too much. He was trying so hard to please his former maker, but what else could he do if he refused to let Russell go as a free man? "So much hatred."
His blood boiled with anger. Godric taught him how to kill; taught him that it wasn't right or wrong, just what they had to do to survive, and now he was teaching him not to? To let it all go? To forgive? "This is who I am, Godric," Eric hissed at him, his upper lip curling back. "This is what you made."
Godric looked at him with a wretched expression, one of great sadness and shame. It wasn't completely Godric's fault, but he was partially to blame for encouraging Eric for decades, centuries, to kill and never apologize for his sins, for that showed weakness, and vampires were not weak.
That expression was sincere betrayal and ultimately was the agent that caused Eric to lift his arm up and slam his thumb down on the button. As the wet concrete rolled down and covered Russell's charred body, he glanced up at Godric only to see him vanish to a misty memory, blowing weakly in the wind.
His hands balled into fists, almost grabbing his hair harshly enough to pull strands out of his scalp. Painful tears that he refused to shed stung the corners of his eyes, his brows furrowing into one line. Was he going mad? Was he really seeing phantoms like Russell said? Were Godric's words even real, or was it just his conscious? Did he want to see his deceased maker so badly that he just imagined that he appeared to him earlier today…
Just like he was right now. This was too much, way too fucking much.
"Go away," Eric said, his throat tight and painful when he spoke. He didn't even bother looking up at Godric, but he could feel him there so explicitly, just like one felt cool raindrops on a soft cheek or a cold winter breeze on chapped skin.
"We need to talk," Godric responded, his voice sounding stronger than it did before and without that strange echo, and Eric couldn't help but to look up. Godric wasn't quite solid, but he was not transparent and wispy either. He was somewhere in between, and when he reached out and placed a hand on Eric's broad shoulder, Eric could actually feel his touch.
Eric gasped and jerked back from Godric, his eyes were wide and unbelieving. "How are you here?" he asked, thinking that he sounded quite stupid. This couldn't be real. Earlier today? Maybe. Now? No way. Godric was dead; Sookie saw him burn and Eric felt their bond fade.
"You needed me, so I came," Godric told him simply, pulling his hand back and dropping it to his side. "I owe you an explanation." Eric didn't really want to hear what Godric had to say—he'd probably only tell him how he needed to forgive Russell again—but he'd listen regardless, because hearing his voice, even if what he had to say pained Eric, was better than not hearing his voice at all. "I know that I'm to blame for the way you are, and I don't regret a single moment of our life together, but your need to have vengeance is killing you, Eric. It is not worth it."
"I can't just forgive him," Eric said, shaking his head as he banged his fist on his bedside table. "It won't be enough. I won't be satisfied."
The corners of Godric's lips curled up into a weak smirk. "My child, you're never satisfied. You know that just as well as I do," he said, sitting next to Eric on his soft bed. "You've already killed his lover. Isn't that enough?" Eric shrugged his broad shoulders, and Godric reached out to hold Eric's hand in his. "Imagine how you would feel if someone killed me."
"He'll kill me if I don't kill him," Eric told Godric, not pulling his hand away, but not using the pad of his thumb to stroke Godric's hand the way he usually did when their fingers were entwined together.
Godric breathed a small chuckle. "I'll make sure he doesn't."
Eric looked into Godric's friendly eyes that were filled with love, just the way he remembered them. "How can you do that?"
"Don't doubt me, my child," Godric said, placing his hand on Eric's cool cheek, causing him to shiver.
He felt so conflicted inside, but he knew without a shadow of doubt that no matter how much he needed revenge, he'd always need Godric more. A thousand years wanting to kill a monster was nothing compared to a thousand years of the love he had with his maker. Eric wasn't sure if he could forgive Russell Edgington, but maybe he could let his revenge go. Maybe what he'd done really was enough.
"I miss you," Eric admitted. He had never said those words to anyone else, nor would he ever, but with Godric they came so easily.
"I know, as I do you," Godric said, wrapping his arm around Eric's waist, snuggling in close to him, and Eric actually felt weight against his body. "But don't grieve for me. I am happy where I am, and free from all my sins." He placed his thumb under Eric's chin and turned his head to face him. "It is good to see you again, though."
Eric couldn't stop a small red tear from rolling down his cheek and his lips from curling up into a weak smile. He felt Godric's tongue on his face, licking away his bloody tear. Eric closed his eyes and inhaled Godric's scent; he smelled the exact same as he did before he met the sun, although his scent was just a tad bit fainter, and Eric really had to wonder if Godric was actually real, here with him.
Everything about him felt so real; his lips that Eric kissed, his hair that Eric touched, his body that Eric held in his arms.
Godric eased Eric down onto the bed and straddled his hips as his fingers started to unzip Eric's jacket. "You forgave me for killing you," Godric told him, placing a light kiss on each inch of skin he exposed as he worked of Eric's jacket.
"That was different," Eric hissed as his fangs extended down and his back curved up. Godric's lips felt just as he remembered them, so very soft.
He smiled against Eric's bare chest. "It's still murder." Well, maybe, but Godric also gave him life. Russell didn't give life to his family, he only gave death. Then again, if his father never died, then he never would have fought in that battle, and thus never met Godric. Eric thought about that fact many times before, always dismissing it quickly, except for this time. Godric pulled down Eric's sweatpants, leaning down over his frame as he kissed his way down his stomach, along his trembling thighs, and then the tip of his hard cock. Eric's hips bucked up, but Godric's firm grip held him in place. Godric swirled his tongue around the purplish head of Eric's cock, tasting his salty fluid as he drew Eric's length into his small mouth.
Eric always loved when Godric sucked him off, almost as much as he loved when Godric fucked him. He was so good with his mouth, and to this day, Eric was still jealous of the man that taught Godric how to do this, wishing so much that it had been him. He felt Godric's small tongue lap at the underside of his cock as his childlike hands cupped his balls, and Eric was already twitching in his almost warm mouth. "Please, please," Eric begged as he twisted his fingers in Godric's short brown hair. Godric pulled away with a small pop and Eric reached down, feeling Godric's wet salvia on his cock. "You're not imagining me," he told Eric, placing a hand on his cheek as Godric slid inside of him. A deep moan worked its way up Eric's tight throat as he wrapped his hand around the nape of Godric's neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He could feel every inch and every detail of Godric's cock moving inside of him, and it was so glorious, so perfect, erasing all the pain and heartache Eric felt prior to this moment. Eric held onto him tightly, enjoying every second, knowing that Godric still couldn't spend forever with him—he'd have to leave eventually. But oh, did Eric wish he didn't have to. He locked his eyes with Godric's, making out his descended fangs through his parted lips, and Eric leaned up, licking each sharp fang that made him all those years ago and pierced his skin to taste his blood so many times during their life together. Godric thrust into him deeply, hitting just there, causing Eric to writhe and jerk as he came in violent spurts, his milky fluid sticking to their bodies. Godric tilted his head to the side, offering his neck for Eric to feed on. He sunk his fangs into Godric's skin, feeling him spill out his release deep inside of him as he tasted Godric's blood on his tongue, savoring every last drop of it, knowing that this would likely be the last time.
But he sure hoped he was wrong.
Godric kissed Eric long and hard till he calmed in his arms. If he was a man that didn't mind showing his emotions, thick red tears would be streaming endlessly down his face, not out of sadness, but out of joy. Their reunion for him was akin to the euphoria of finally tasting blood after years and years of starvation, or finding love after years and years of loneliness. And he was satisfied, so satisfied, for once in his life that he got to be with Godric again when he thought that would have been impossible.
"Forgive him, Eric," Godric said again, echoing the first words he spoke to Eric when he appeared to him this morning.
"But if I don't, then you'll come to me again," Eric told him, smirking as he cupped Godric's cheek.
Godric sighed. "You're still so incorrigible after all these years." Eric relished the sensation of Godric's lips on his again, albeit not for a long while. "I'll come back to you whether you forgive him or not, our meetings will just be far more pleasant if you do."
He had to admit that that was tempting. He also had to admit that, in the end, he would bend to Godric's request. Not because his vengeance didn't matter—it did—but because Godric mattered more.
"Promise me you'll at least think about it?" Godric asked.
Maybe he already got his revenge. He took away Russell's one love, broke Russell down, made him realize that even he, the king of Mississippi could be powerless, made him aware of exactly what kinds of horrible punishments he truly deserved.
Maybe that was enough.