AN: This story is based on the idea that Godric is not dead (something I plan to explain in a much later chapter).
"What on Mother's green Earth do you think you're doing?" The tall man with a crew cut held the chainsaw to the side when the women ran up to him, stepping in front of the tree. Her hair flowed over her shoulders and the chestnut locks stopped just below the hem of her denim shorts. He watched as she ran her hand against the darkened bark, her fingers running into the grooves and smiling at the rough sensations.
"I have orders to cut the tree down, there's no one living here and the city wants to put up some more power lines through here." She snapped her head to him, a fire in her eyes while she looked from his face to the chainsaw. There was a small stand off where she pressed her back into the tree as if to shield it with her own body.
"I live here. I bought this house a week ago. And you and your nature murdering devices will get off my property and leave my tree's alone." She stepped forward while speaking, and the man had to move the chainsaw further away from the woman as she moved, pressing the sharp blades into the fabric of her white tank top. He looked behind him, the moving van parked in front of the house, men moving things from the back of the truck into the front door and disappearing from view.
"W-We didn't get any notification." He looked at women directly, her eyes the same green as the leaves on the tree she was protecting. She tilted her head to the side as she watched vines move silently over the darkened Earth
"You know the beautiful thing about nature?" she asked turning her back to the man, running her hand down the bark again. "It takes care of it self."
When she turned around again the vines had wrapped themselves around the mans ankles and where working up his legs, locking them in place and not allowing him to move. "Get off of my property before nature gets any more angry with you."
The vines retracted, moving back to their hiding spot in the tree line and the man started to back off, she watched him until he placed the chainsaw in the back of the truck and drove away. His job as meant to be simple, just cut down a few trees, and instead it became an odd stand off with a long haired women.
She walked into the house, giving the movers a few more instructions before beginning to unpack the few rooms that where completely unloaded.
Two months later she had three greenhouses placed on her land, one for fruits and vegetables, one for exotic flowers and one for trees to begin to grow. "Miss. Wood?" She turned, her flowing sundress half a second behind her, but her smile bright as she turned to the man standing in the doorway of her tree greenhouse.
"I'm David Blight, I work for the power company." She simply moved to water a different seedling, almost as if she had forgotten his presence, but he continued to talk.
"We understand you bought the property for several hundred acres which interrupts our building of more power lines. I'm sure you understand how important this could be for people, and I hope you ill consider what we're going to offer." He went to put his briefcase on a table that had a few Weeping Willow's just beginning to take root.
"Place that on my table and I will plant you until you take root." She still hadn't turned back to him and her voice was steady. But when she did turn her eyes had a fire to them, they blazed in the sun coming through the windows. "Mr. Blight, if you ever set foot on my property and attempt to harm any of the plants here, you will know what Mother Nature is capable of. This includes if you bend a blade of grass while leaving. Have a fantastic day." Her smile returned, her eyes their normal shade of green.
He shuffled out of the greenhouse and she continued to water her plants, singing softly to them. When the sky started to darken, she entered the house. She was expecting a friend when the night is black, and needed to get a few things in place before hand.
The knock at the door shocked the girl, despite her being prepared for her guest. They had spoken over phone and e-mail for the past few months leading up to her move to Minden, Louisiana. They knew each other when they where younger, both reluctant debutantes and both looking for a way out. They had run away together one night, made it from London to the border of Scotland before our fathers caught up with us.
"Pamela, please come in." She stepped to the side to let the vampire into her house and smiled at the bored look that had been on her face even when they where young women being forced to attend the elegant parties for their parents. Pam eyed the wine glasses on the table, raising an eyebrow as she remembered the first time the two women had stolen a bottle of red wine from her parents, they laid in the clearing between their houses watching the stars and sharing the bottle. Sometimes, the memory of their first drunken kiss and the soft wishes that they made to every shooting star seemed so real she would swear she could taste the bitter sweetness of the wine on her lips.
"Now you know I can't drink wine, Violet." They hugged and laughed at the small joke, it was something they said when they where younger. Whenever anyone had offered them a small taste at a party, they would look at them as if they had lost their minds saying "Now you know I can't drink wine, sir!" They always attempted to sound offended.
"I am aware, dear Pamela. Which is why I picked up a bottle of TruBlood and have decided to serve it in a wine glass, so we can at least pretend." Violet walked into the dining room with Pam in tow and poured her TruBlood and herself some red wine, they sat at the table and talked, the night slowly getting darker.
"Do you even know what happened to Christine?" Pam asked as they spoke of the last party they had attended together, the last time they saw each other.
"Yes! She married some Lieutenant of the First World War and had like four children, all boys, all killed. Two in the Second World War, one by a jilted lover, and the last one I cannot remember." Pam laughed softly, under her breathe as Violet spoke.
"You look exactly as you did at that last party. You're not a vampire, what exactly are you?" Pam leaned forward, Violet's scent was still as she remembered, sweet like apples and maple trees.
"My mother moved me away as soon as she realized that I was what almost every other women in my family is. Not immortal, mind you, I die when my redwood dies." She took a long breath, inhaling and exhaling almost loudly. "I'm a.."
Pam's phone started ringing, she answered it as soon as she saw who was calling and stepped into the next room to take it in privet. When she came back in she smiled down at her old friend, "that was Eric, it's almost eleven and he wants me to work the bar. Why don't you come with me? I'm sure you have something you can wear if I remember your love of clothes." Violet smirked slightly and started walking up the stairs, silently inviting Pam to her room.
They where going on twenty minutes later before Pam pulled out what she deemed 'the perfect dress' for her to not be vampire bait. She walked to Violet who sat on the bed in her black bra and panties, the black stilettos covered in black spikes already on her feet, "let's get you into this thing, shall we?"
It was a short red dress with a crisscross back that stopped nearly six inches above her knees, and when Pam looked over her long time friend, Violet's long hair falling carelessly down the entirety of the dress, she was reminded of their nights under the stars. The same hair that fanned around the girl as she laid on her back looking at the stars all those years ago.
Pam handed her friend a bottle of water as they talked about the Viking who sat on the throne a few feet away, she was telling a few stories of how they met only ten years after Violet had left her life.
"And the dark haired man next to him?" Violet had asked when Pam walked back to her after serving a barely dressed and barely legal girl at the other end of the bar.
"Godric? That's Eric's Maker. Why? Do you find him attractive?" Violet shrugged at her friend and watched as she stiffened for a moment before a man in a plain black t-shirt walked behind the bar, releasing Pam for a moment.
"Speaking of them, they would like to meet you." She walked away, Violet fallowing a moment later.
As they approached the two men Violet stood back slightly, allowing them to decide when it was acceptable to move closer. The two looked her up and down, attempting to place what she was feeling. Not fear, her ground was held quite well, nor over excitement as some humans did when standing before them—two ancient vampires.
"Violet, is it? Please have a seat." Eric offered, his hand gesturing to the seat opposite where Godric sat as Pam took her place standing behind him.
"Pleasure to meet you, I actually feel I should thank you." Violet said, her hands resting on her lap lightly.
"Why is that?" Violets eyes flicked to Pam's for a moment. Had she not told them where they knew each other from?
"Well, if it wasn't for you I never would have seen my dear friend again. When I found she was still walking after over a hundred years I was ecstatic." She answered, her eyes never leaving Pam's, who for a moment let her features soften.
"You are not a vampire though, Miss. Wood?" Godric asked, his voice soft as his eyes caught hers, catching her breathe for a moment before she could answer.
"What I am is not for public discussion." Violet said, her eyes still locked with Godric's.
The four spoke for a while longer, Pam and Violet sharing small jokes they had created as young women in the 1800's, the latter's eyes flicking to meet Godric's every so often. They did this until last call was shouted across the bar.
"Oh my. I need to be going, I have to get up early to see to the greenhouses. I hope to see you all soon." Violet stood, Godric doing the same. She hugged Pam and bid goodbye to to men. When she got to the door of the club Godric was waiting for her.
"Do you mind if I walk you to your car, Miss. Wood?" His voice was still soft, as if he didn't know how to be angry or vicious. Violet nodded in return, taking the vampire's extended hand.