Eric waited impatiently for Sookie to answer the door. He had arrived his usual forty-five minutes after sunset, and was concerned as to why she hadn’t answered the door just before or after his knock. With her powers, she was always able to sense the “vampire void” of his mind as he neared her home.
“Just a minute,” he heard her mumble, her voice sounding off. He heard her slowly shuffling closer to the door, then heard her cough.
His growing worry was making him impatient, but he hesitated to knock again as he didn’t want to rush her if she wasn’t feeling well.
Finally she opened the door and…she looked awful. Her usually fluffy blonde hair was flat in strange places and a few tendrils were stuck to her sweaty forehead, her cheeks were an unhealthy ruddy shade, her nose was pink, and her eyes appeared glassy.
“Sookie, what is wrong,” he demanded as he entered the living room.
She started to answer then succumbed to a coughing fit. She held up a finger to hold him off then went back to the kitchen, with Eric following closely behind.
After a couple of sips of what smelled to Eric like either chicken broth or cow piss, he could never tell the difference after his turning, she turned around to blow her nose, washed her hands, then sat down at the table.
“I’m sick.” She stated the obvious, her voice hoarse.
“I can see that, but with what? You seemed fine last night. How is it possible for you to even be sick since your maturation?” Plainly, he was very worried. It was his understanding that her fairy maturation not only guaranteed an exponentially longer life span, but also granted her immunity to normal human illnesses.
Once again, just as she inhaled to speak, another coughing fit took over. After ingesting more of the noxious liquid and rising to blow her poor, swollen nose and washing her hands again, she replied, “Yeah, that would have been nice, wouldn’t it?”
“Did you call Dr. Ludwig,” he interrupted to ask as he withdrew his phone.
“Yep,” she replied with a nod as she sat back down. “I called her this morning after I woke up like this,” she indicated her nose and throat. “She came by about half an hour later.” She paused to sip from a glass containing an alarmingly orange liquid.
“What did she say,” he demanded impatiently. Why hadn’t the trollish doctor healed her? That was her fucking job! Odin knew he paid her enough.
“She said that even though I have enough of the spark to have powers and ‘reach fairy maturation’,” she finger-quoted the phrase, “I’m still human enough to catch a particularly virulent cold or flu once in a great while if my system is low for some reason, like from an allergy attack. Also, on a completely related note, it appears I’m allergic to fresh asparagus.” She raised her shirt enough to show Eric a thick smattering of bright red welts across her abdomen. “They’re on my back, too.”
Eric hissed in automatic reaction to the painful looking hives. Asparagus. The palace chef had prepared fucking asparagus for her dinner the night before. “But you’ve eaten asparagus many times before, though.” That was why he had approved the nasty-smelling vegetable on the menu. He remembered from…before…how she had liked it. He was very confused but determined to get to the bottom of this. Whatever was the cause, it would never happen again.
“Sure, I love canned asparagus. But what he fixed was fresh. I guess some sort of chemical reaction happens when it gets canned…” she broke off into another coughing spell, then rose from the table to blow her nose and wash her hands…again. This time she used some hand lotion on her quickly chapping hands.
Eric was deeply troubled. How could such a thing happen? He dialed the tiny doctor, who answered on the second ring, as she should since he had retained her services for his retinue immediately after securing the crown.
“Viking,” she spat, “I was expecting your call.” His acquisition of the throne had not endeared him to her in any obvious way.
“Why is Sookie still suffering and what else should she avoid?” He had long grown accustomed to the little troll’s attitude.
“Straight to the point, I like that in a king,” she quipped. “The only thing that would heal her immediately would be your blood,” she continued succinctly. “It would rid her of that nasty cold and would cure the hives. If she doesn’t want to ingest your blood, you can apply it directly to each hive. Otherwise you’re looking at about a week of recovery for both. She’s part fairy, not immortal, therefore she’s not immune to everything. Make sure she keeps sipping on the orange liquid and takes one of those pills before she goes to bed,” she instructed. “As for what new allergies she may develop, only time will tell,” she added before hanging up.
In great thought, Eric placed the phone on the table. He detested seeing his Sookie in ill-health, and those hives? They were horrible! He never wanted to see anything of the sort marring her beautiful skin, and he couldn’t imagine that they were at all comfortable no matter what she had slathered over them.
“She gave me some pills,” Sookie said, startling him out of his thoughts, “but since they’ll basically knock me out I didn’t want to take one until after you came by.”
“What will they do,” he asked, stalling so his brain could discover some way, any way, to get her to agree to let him heal her. It wasn’t even the primal joy of getting his blood back into her that was driving him…no, the driving need was to heal her. The primal joy could come later.
She snorted, then coughed. “Knock me out.” She then rose to go to the box of tissues near the trashcan to blow her nose once again.
“Why don’t you bring the tissues and the trash can over here,” he asked, suddenly very curious about the repeated actions that were surely taking energy she didn’t have to spare.
“You don’t blow your nose at the table,” she said as if everyone ought to know that. At his raised brow, she added, “You know; you don’t mow your grass on Sunday, you don’t disrespect your elders, and you don’t blow your nose at the table.” She shrugged her shoulders. This was all common knowledge to her.
She washed her hands, again, then sat back down. As she slumped down in her chair a bit, he could tell the toll remaining up with him was taking on her body.
Not wanting to have the upcoming discussion at the kitchen table with its rules and that urine-scented chicken broth, he rose and smoothly scooped her up in his arms and took her to the large, lumpy couch in the living room. As wealthy as he knew her to be, he wondered why she hadn’t yet purchased new, more comfortable furnishings, but then wasn’t the time to ask.
After placing her on said couch, he moved at vamp-speed back to the kitchen, gathered up the box of tissues, the bottle of hand sanitizer near the sink, her hand lotion, the mostly-empty trashcan, and her orange liquid and had them deposited on the coffee table before she had finished reaching for the throw on the back of the couch. The trashcan he placed conveniently close to the end of the table.
He picked her up and settled her on his lap with her back resting against the arm of the couch, and covered her with the old throw. With an arm around her waist to hold her securely to his body, he leaned forward and grabbed the glass of orange liquid.
As he passed it to her, he took a sniff, and realized that it smelled nothing of the fruit he knew.
“What is that,” he asked after she swallowed and handed the glass back to him.
“She said it’s something that’s supposed to help fairies recover from exposure to an allergen, but I think it’s pond water by the taste of it.”
Eric chuckled lightly at her humor as he replaced the glass. He placed his hand on her forehead as he had seen mothers do for centuries, and frowned at the fever, but left his hand in place at her sigh of pleasure.
A few minutes of silence passed during which Sookie simply enjoyed Eric’s nearness and the cool touch of his skin, and Eric tried to figure out a way to encourage Sookie to accept his blood without angering her or causing any sort of set-back in their burgeoning relationship.
If he had to, he could endure allowing her to remain sick for a week to save their relationship, but he wasn’t exactly sure how he would actually manage it. The mere thought of her suffering in any way was such an anathema to his being that he couldn’t even bring himself to imagine it, much less allow it. But…if he had to, if she refused to take his blood or even allow him to heal her hives, he would make himself endure it for the sake of their future.
As her fever slowly rose, another coughing fit struck, and he obligingly handed her the box of tissues. After blowing her nose, tossing the tissue into the trashcan he held over for her, and using the hand sanitizer, she very willingly leaned back into the cool comfort of his big body.
Unable to keep quiet for another moment, Eric began, “Sookie, the doctor said that my blood would heal you. You must know that I willingly offer my blood…”
“Yes, Eric, but only under one condition,” came her very surprising interruption.
Completely taken aback by her willingness and highly curious as to her terms, Eric blurted, “What condition?” Anything, he thought fervently, anything under the sun would be hers in an instant…anything at all. I must get her well..
“If I take yours, then you have to take mine,” she answered hoarsely.
After a sharp inhalation of shock, he noted, his voice shaking, “You know what that will mean, right? Please tell me that you are fully aware,” he continued, his voice growing in both strength and hope, “that we will once again be bonded, even if it is only a slight bond.”
Moving her head to find a cool spot against his chest and wishing for, oh, say, the millionth time that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, Sookie nodded, then said softly, “I know. I…I miss feeling that bond with you.” She sniffed, then continued, “I miss knowing that you’re safe, that you’re around, you know? I miss knowing how you’re doing. I miss…I miss feeling your life and your…I miss feeling your love.”
Overcome by the sheer love and joy thundering through his heart, Eric clutched her even closer into his chest and simply held her, then needed a few tissues of his own. “I miss that, too,” he whispered into her hair.
He placed a kiss to the top of her head and, after cleaning his face, he turned her in his lap until her back was against his chest. Without further ado, and before she could possibly change her mind, he swept her hair out of the way and tugged down the neck of the t-shirt she was wearing. Immediately afterward he bit his wrist and held it to her waiting lips, and the moment she took her first draw, he licked and sucked at her neck…then bit.
When he felt his precious life force enter her body, he could sense not only her fatigue and ill-health, but he could feel his blood already starting to mend her body. The moment he swallowed his first sip of her, he felt tingles following every drop as her blood mingled with his own.
As each slowly drew, savored, then swallowed the other’s beloved essence, sip by sip, both could feel the bond…repairing. Mending itself….soothing away any remaining doubt or fear, quickly and intensely rebonding them as intimately as they had ever been in the past.
When his wrist naturally closed, he removed it from her lips and savagely bit it again. “More,” he demanded hoarsely, his voice unsteady as he gently placed his freely bleeding wrist back to her lips.
With a small, joyous sob, Sookie gladly acquiesced, wrapping her lips around the small bleeding wounds and pulling deeply. Not wanting to take more than she could give, Eric drank only twice more from his Sookie before sealing and healing her neck, but derived such intense satisfaction from feeling her pulling so strongly from him that within three pulls his body had the natural reaction.
He came even harder than he had the last time he had lain with her, and he didn’t mind a bit.
**A/N: How’s that for a step in the right direction? Hope you guys liked it!**