Chapter 19 – True Filth

 

 

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A/N: This chapter switches back and forth between two scenes, it’s a bit like a tennis match… 

 

“Power resides within him. Power we respect,” Niccolò responded. “You had it offered to you but instead you chose to pursue your own greed. To maintain a symbol of a crown rather than the power it can exert.”

 

“I don’t understand,” she whimpered as another shot of silver was sent coursing through her entire nervous system.

 

“The telepath.”

 

“There is no power there,” the former queen angrily retorted, frustrated to be arguing over something so insignificant. The merger of the two states was a diplomatic feat, the cost of a telepath was meagre in her opinion. Glamour was an innate ability that did just as well in its place.

 

“That is where you lost your true crown,” Niccolò narrated as he scribbled down some notes on a small flip over pad. “Our political field is not exclusive to vampires any longer. We no longer live among the humans, Ms. Krasiki. We live beside them and many of them never agreed to that. Your failure to recognise this made you release the most valuable asset to surface in this realm.”

 

“The telepath!” she cried out in agony as her central nervous system collapsed upon itself with the final administration of the silver doses.

 

“Perhaps you can teach an old bitch some new tricks after all,” he retorted with a dark gleam to his eyes.

 

“I hate you!” she screamed out before the pain subsided and sent her to unconsciousness. “You and those fucking fairies!”

 

---

 

“How are these wings coming in?” Eric murmured while caressing the skin that tautly stretched over her bare shoulder blades. Soft kisses and caresses followed her moans of contentment as his mouth trailed down her shivering back.

 

“Still vying for that fairy sponge bath?” she giggled teasingly as she rolled her body beneath him so they were face to face once again.

 

“Well, you are a fairy,” he leered with a large grin happy to hear she remembered her promise of a fairy sponge bath once her wings came in. “And, I could use a bath.” It was an experience she had promised him when under Cecily’s instruction she had bathed Godric in her light giving him a false notion it protected him from the Maenad. Naturally Eric had wanted to experience that for himself.

 

“Is that so?” she quipped as her eyes filled with mirth. “You don’t seem all that filthy to me.” She sniffed the pits of his arms in demonstration. The lack of any sweat made his distinctive scent unchanged despite their earlier exertion. At most she could smell hints of herself.

 

“All clean!” Sookie concluded after a thorough inspection of his body before she planted a soft kiss to his chest.

 

“Allow me to demonstrate how filthy I can be,” he returned in a provocatively lowered octave. His rough textured tongue swiped broadly over her exposed skin inciting a fuel of laughter with the ticklish sensation and the continued intensifying speed.

 

“You just got me all dirty,” she mocked with fake ire. The accompanying pout was irresistible to the vampire and he quickly took it for his own lips’ enjoyment. His naked body writhed over hers weakly gluing them together with the trails of his saliva.

 

“Not dirty enough,” he murmured as he nipped at soft angle of her jaw. She yelped as a sudden cool lick assaulted her heating neck as he proceeded to suck on the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear.

 

---

 

“Are they still going at it?” Cecily asked her maker with amusement.

 

“Yes,” he gritted out. He had lived with Eric’s appetite for lust for a thousand years and been able to block it out effectively from the day he was reborn. Sookie apparently seemed to overpower that even through their severed maker-child bond. He felt nothing coming from Eric at any other time. Godric didn’t know what was worse, the residual emptiness of the former bond he felt continually or these overpowering bursts of unbridled carnal hunger their collective coupling incited.

 

“They are quite the sight,” she purred back setting the scene in her and Godric’s mind as Cecily positioned herself beside him on the Spartan bed. She huffed and grunted a little before finally finding a position of comfort on her side while propped up on her elbow. For the lack of life in her, she couldn’t understand why he would scorn comfort knowing it to be such a marvellous invention of time. “Jason and I are more magnificent of course.”

 

“Modesty never suited you,” Godric said with some amusement, happy for her distraction and the knowledge that she would be here for him now. She had promised him as much. He turned his body to hers so he could see her face.

 

“Abstinence never suited you,” she retorted with eyes bright and playful. “Why won’t your God allow it?”

 

“It is for procreation only,” he explained in belief. “We can no longer procreate through intercourse so we should refrain from those urges.”

 

She quirked her brow, a family trait through the bloodline, in disbelief. “Your God believes you to act against your nature,” she said shaking her red locks through the air.

 

“It is nurture not nature. We were taught improperly. These desires, they do not belong with us.”

 

“This has nothing to do with nurture,” Cecily stated coolly as she grabbed his linen pants finding the straining erection. Godric growled harshly against his child as he fought internally between the craving and the pleasure induced by the assault.

 

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“Ah,” she moaned at his buffeting tongue that attacked from all angles. He seemed to be everywhere all at once as he forced her body into a boneless mess of pleasure. A swipe here followed by a pinch diametrically opposite while a fang pricked softly elsewhere. He was teasing her into submission as he expertly avoided her most desperate spots.

 

She hated it and loved it all at the same time, this constant preoccupation with each other’s bodies. The rewards were most often winning out from the tease but tonight he seemed to be relishing in withholding as Sookie continued her defiant stance that he was the epitome of clean.

 

She was lying of course, neither one of them willing to concede in this game they had conjured up with a few challenging words. They were both speckled in saliva, her blood and trails of his pre-cum. Beyond the physical filth, his mind was undulating between a similar state of dirt and delight.

 

“Please?” she solicited with batted eyelashes as her arousal was overtaking her desperation for release. Her mind, however, was still maintaining her drawn barricade that refused to concede.

 

“Do I still look spotless to you?” he said with a grin as he trailed the outer lips of her sex with the glistening shaft of his throbbing erection. She watched mesmerized as he seemed to be painting her body with his essence as it mingled with the wet paint that trickled from between her thighs. She applauded herself for being able to draw him in so effectively with a mere look in her eyes but was frustrated he could hold out just as well as she.

 

“You would do the sanitation department proud,” she informed smugly with an exaggerated whiff of his scent. “All. Clean.”

 

He growled in response denying her the sensations he was momentarily easing her in to. She whimpered with the loss of the promise while she tried to writhe her body back up against his. Sookie conceded she had little room for manoeuvring as he had restrained her by the crossed wrists of her arms and pinned his legs upon her thighs.

 

“Now my little fairy,” he said sotto voce, the menace and mischief dancing through his eyes. “Perhaps you should take a closer look.”

 

She closed her eyes purposefully as she shook her head, “I don’t need to see what I can smell.” With another growl he released his hold on her and flipped them round holding her firmly by the bottom of her skull. “You’re as clean as can be,” she grinned recognising his frustration.

 

“Does this look clean to you?” he demanded as he moved her body to prominently display a streak of her dried blood.

 

“Interesting,” she returned with a pregnant pause, “birthmark.”

 

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her audacity. The severity of the situations he found himself in ever since she entered his life had more than made up for in moments like these. Her inability to contain her smile made it all the more amusing to them both as their play reached a momentary intermission.

 

“You seem to have an awful lot of these,” she continued with a more serious tone as her fingers trailed over his body in search of incriminating spots. The thicker smears gave way with a little friction. “Maybe you could use a good dusting.”

 

“Dusting?” he said incensed at her standing barricades.

 

“Dusting,” Sookie returned with a wink ehilr she grabbed his erection between her hands with a knowing look and started moving the lingering fluids up and down the shaft.

 

“Dusting,” Eric said with a satisfied grin as he finally caught on to her meaning. He tried to resist her tease but he was too far gone, spun up by their play. It took her little effort as she pumped from base to tip with a slight twist of her hands over the needy cockhead. She blew the hot air of her breath over his most sensitive spots heightening the sensation as he admired the view of her straddled body sitting in reverse upon his waist.

 

“Fuck,” he growled when she felt him swell in her hands. To her delight and triumph he erupted gushing as if he belonged in Yellowstone National Park; the drums of her ears trembling in tune with his body as he came with a roar.

 

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The sound in the room was deafening as Godric flung Cecily’s immaterial form through the walls after ripping her delicate hands from within his pants. She landed with a thud in the palace gardens before reappearing beside him once more.

 

“Do not touch me,” he warned with the menace of the vampire he once was. It was glorious to Cecily in its ferocity and memory of her magnificent Maker. This was the vampire that ravaged on her night upon night draining her never ending supply of fae-laced blood.

 

“That is nature,” she declared victoriously.

 

“Why do I surround myself with everyone who doubts me?” he demanded to the room but mostly of himself. His conversation with Tara had hit a nerve. He refused to concede that he was lying to himself. It had been haunting him throughout the night. This presumption from a human he hardly knew but seemed to understand him so much better than others. Now Cecily had come to further taunt him.

 

“Listen to what is true, Papà,” Cecily urged, her warm hand came to rest tightly over his heart. “Listen to who you are.”

 

His rage suddenly had dissipated with the euphoria coming from Eric’s release and he leaned into Cecily’s soft touch seeking a breath he had no need of.

 

“God does not want this,” Godric murmured as he allowed himself to feel what coursed through his veins. The feeling of it had become so foreign to him now. He knew the elation of exertion, the rapture, the joy and the ecstasy. What Eric felt was so different and it felt right, where he knew it was wrong.

 

“Your god does not want you to love?” she probed identifying what Godric was experiencing vicariously.

 

“We are not deserving of it,” he replied solemnly pulling his body from her comforting hand. He lay on his back staring at the bare ceiling.

 

“You are the only one that wants to believe this.”

 

“I have thousands of followers,” the ancient vampire returned at a louder volume than necessary. His hands latched at the short hairs upon his head in frustration. Godric growled out and with an imperceptible speed blurred his face from recognition in primal agitation.

 

“You did not hear what I said,” she said unimpressed by his display. “Your followers believe it. I do not doubt this. You want to.”

 

“No,” he denied vehemently. The frightening stance of his face did nothing to scare her off, she only inched closer to him. “I believe what I speak to be true.”

 

“Yet you surround yourself with those that doubt you,” Cecily pointed out as she tenderly ran her fingers over the drawstring of his tunic. “You have only ever surrounded yourself with those who make you better. You truly believe it to be doubt? Could it not be that we simply offer you the truth you do not wish to see.”

 

He stared at her silently as she lifted herself off the bed and grabbed through the steam-trunk containing his limited possessions. She selected the journal she was looking for and opened it to the last pages.

 

“December 14, 1648,” Cecily started in narration. “The people of this town have denounced Hamish a witch. It is obvious that they have never truly encountered a witch. Hamish is simply successful in his endeavours reaching a potential no one allowed him from his birth. Unlike his parents and fellow town dwellers he is smart, has educated himself, and directed this intelligence to his crops. This is why he will not grow hungry this winter while the rest of the town starves.

 

“The next door neighbour is the one that leads them. They believe him, like they believe the words he speaks of a god, as if he can speak on behalf of him. Had they simply asserted themselves like Hamish, they would not be going hungry. There is no magic involved in independent thought, yet it has caused the people of this town to turn against the one who strayed from the herd of ignorance.” Cecily turned the page before skipping over the intermittent entry that was of little interest to her.

 

“December 16, 1648,” she continued. “I rose to find Hamish hung from the oak tree not far from where I went to rest. He hangs as a reminder to anyone coming in or leaving this town that there is no place for people like Hamish. Those that question the validity of known truths. The neighbour has taken possession of his farm and the crops he stored in his barn have been distributed to the rest of the town. They will not be thanking Hamish when they bid their god gratitude for their meal. The neighbour has seen to that with his actions.  To them Hamish is a witch, not the man that kept them warm and fat this winter. I console myself that at least that as it is written here for Hamish Smith the truth is recorded for eternity. These people will pass but I will remember the man as he was. He would have shared his crops. No god will feed them more than Hamish ever did.” She snapped the delicate spine closed as she looked at Godric.

 

“Are these lies, Papà?” she demanded to know.

 

“Yes,” Godric answered with hesitation before he proceeded to whisper in confusion, “No.”

 

“Which is it?” she screamed her small hands holding the journal firmly in her hands threatening to toss it into the burning fire beside her. When he refused to make up his mind and provide her with an answer she tossed it in the direction of the flames.

 

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“Oops,” Sookie said with the most insincere rendition of the word. “Clean up on aisle five.”

 

Before he could decorate her with the spilt semen as he had done with every other fluid that night she lapped it up in broad strokes content with the new canvas for her tongue.

 

“Sookie,” he groaned as her warm mouth encompassed his already stiffening member.

 

“Yes Eric,” she returned with feigned innocence while she released her hold with a resounding pop before triumphantly declaring another, “All clean!”

 

She wasn’t surprised to find herself on her back again. He would always have the physical advantage over her even if he had not been blessed with immortal strength. There was no sense in fighting that hold but that didn’t stop her from battling the other fields that lay between them.

 

“You think yourself so clever little fairy,” he gritted out with a vibration that seemed to speak directly between her thighs. “Your tongue is as sharp as a sword.” It was a small admittance to her momentary upper hand by use of her mental acumen where he fell weak to the demands of his loins. However, Eric was never one to go down without a fight so he was sure that would be all he would be conceding to tonight in their scuffle of wits.

 

“I didn’t leave a mess, did I?” she asked coyly, showing him the sharpness of said tongue. “I don’t like bloody messes. Impossible to get out.”

 

He purred at the imagery and warmth she was summoning into his imagination. The impressive length of his nimble fingers drew through her glistening folds probing at the entrance. “I think I found a wet floor to cleanse it with,” he said before stealing her lips for a deepened kiss.

 

“Enter with caution,” she smirked before gasping when the sudden thrust of his cock registered. She didn’t think she would ever get used to the feel of him, he had always been gentle in his approach but they were both so spun up that she took him in with ease as he proceeded to gyrate into her with abandon.

 

Finally finding the friction she had pleaded for she sank into the sensation moving with him rather than against him. Both content with their temporary truce, flames fuelled at their fire.

 

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Combustion was averted as Godric lunged for the journal while yelling out a fierce ‘No!’. Only narrowly avoiding the flames he flew at the red-headed apparition pinning her to the wall. She let him hold her despite her ability to easily move from his grasp. Cecily was never one to be controlled, not when she was alive or undead, even when it was her own choice to willingly comply.

 

“Why?” he demanded angrily dropping the ancient journal by his feet. She remained defiantly mute. Her haunting gaze that had penetrated the sad orbs of his eyes for centuries spoke more than her words ever did. Instead of abating his anger it only caused to fan the flames. The accusation rife through her facial expression. His questioning was superfluous, they both knew exactly why he was mad. He couldn’t argue his own words. He was no different than the neighbour of Hamish Smith. A man whose name was not even worthy to record.

 

“I am different,” he said repeating the sentence once more as if unsure he spoke it right the first time. “Eric, I let him go.”

 

She shook her head at his disillusion of self. “Would you, if Sookie had not claimed him for her own?”

 

He knew the truth of that answer as well as her. Eric would have been the first on the funeral pyre within weeks of arrival. The first and true sacrifice. Yet, setting him free of his command had been a sacrifice of another kind. In the end Eric had not left him as he had thought for so long.

 

Cecily draped her thin limbs around him in embrace. A gesture she had never given him in her entire existence, it was always him who sought her out. The embers of her fairy essence warmed him and for a moment he swore his heart beat once more.

 

“These words are not as important as the ones you follow now?” she asked softly returning the journal to his trembling hands.

 

“My world is no longer my own since I took the crown,” he returned. “I am but a humble servant.”

 

“Remember what you told me in Antioch?” she requested, remembering her lowest moment as a newly born vampire.

 

“We never truly lose who we are inside, no master can take this from you.”

 

Cecily had desperately needed to hear those words then, as desperately as Godric needed them now. While he had been her maker and held firm control of her they had suffered together under Godric’s Roman Maker’s tyrannical reign. It had always made them more like comrades rather than master and child. It was that model that had shaped his relationship with Eric and from what he could gather it was how he had raised Pam. By his side rather than beneath him.

 

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Sookie writhed in ecstasy beneath him, clamping down on her vaginal muscles incredibly tight to lock him in place. She had felt him try to pull out knowing his own release to be imminent, his calculating manoeuvres easily detected through their shared bond.

 

Her physical resistance was useless of course. Only intensifying the sensation as he pulled out with the warning swell painting her stomach with his spendings as if it were a Pollock original.

 

Fuck. Rub. All over.

 

Nothing was going to mess with his intent. She screamed at the sensation of the cool liquid assaulting her hot skin and the subsequent marking of her body. Before her protest could be registered he had her on all fours plunging back in from behind.

 

Sookie resigned momentarily to her fate, her position leaving her at his mercy. The sensations were maddening as the sounds of their smacking skins ricocheted off the freshly plastered walls. She tried fervently to keep him deeply stilled inside but he held control of her thighs.

 

She threw her hair carelessly over her shoulder gazing at the hot stare of his eyes. He was expecting to hear words of defeat. Her white flag, coming from between her clenched teeth begging him to let her come. However, she had saved her weapon of choice for last, uttering the treacherous words he would never refuse from her swollen lips.

 

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“Bite me,” she said with pleading eyes and an offering of her neck. His fangs clicked down standing proud in their pearly white glory. Godric obliged by licking the ethereal artery, the scent so familiar yet foreign at the same time. He broke his fast willingly for the first time in months as he waited in anticipation for the intoxicating blood of the fiery Fae-vampire to treacle out and into his starved mouth. There was heat but the veins were devoid and dry. He was met with an experience he knew far too well for far too long. Emptiness.

 

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Eric never felt so full, his cock surrounded by the warmth of a goddess who seemed to be wringing him out like a wet towel as his mouth filled with the ambrosia from her veins. His thousand year old control slipped as he came deep inside her as her delectable blood hit his palette. He pulled out but only a mere smidgen of cum decorated her back as was intended when her release massaged his intended exit to dizzying heights.

 

“We’re filthy,” she giggled as he held her in his encompassing embrace. She rested her head against his chest positioning her forehead on his bicep as they steadied themselves to a state of calm once more.

 

“Took you long enough to notice,” he smirked. “Time for my fairy to give me a bath.”

 

His victory, however, was short lived as she found her upper hand. “Told you I have yet to grow in my wings,” Sookie teased as she turned her head to look towards her shoulder blades. “Unless they arrived with priority express you’re going to have to settle for a human bath.”

 

“You wound me,” he mocked.

 

“Only with my tongue.”

 

Eric had to admit there was yet to be a truer statement to come from that much adored mouth.

 

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A/N: That was quite the tennis match 😉 Mutual highs brought Godric to his lowest point…

 

Special thanks to msbuffy for betaing. She has been kind enough to take on the editing of my chapters on all my stories as my work is piling up. Saying that there will unfortunately only be one chapter on this story till the new year that will conclude part one of this story, if I find the time I will try to upload at least the first chapter of part two but I can’t commit to that at the moment. It’s a combination of holidays, workload and wishing to enjoy my holidays as simply holidays. There will be some stocking stuffers and outtakes but on the multi chapter stories it will be quiet in the latter weeks of December. I hope you will all understand and patiently await what’s to come.

 

 

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