Chapter 35 – Dinner

 

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“What lives between the two of you is not our making,” Claudine tried to explain. “We considered others, Cecily had proposed Godric at first. All we required was your blood, love was never a factor, but we knew a price had to be paid.”

 

“Why go through such orchestrations?” Eric demanded, his anger still remaining difficult to contain. “There would have been plenty of vampires my age who would have given the blood for a different price. Why am I important alongside her?”

 

“We had an agreement with your former Queen, she was willing to sell the blood of her favoured Childe,” Claudine tried to explain, and it was this argument that finally convinced Eric they had been genuine in their intentions.

 

“Fucking Sophie Anne,” he muttered while simultaneously cursing himself, his former Queen’s actions and willingness to sell their blood had after all caused Godric to act against her, and his Maker had only been aware of it through him. Her small hand squeezed his, knowing exactly where his troubled conscious had lingered to, whispering with comfort, “Not your fault, and it means I’m here with you and I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone but you.”

 

He smiled back in return, murmuring, “Likewise.” Eric’s gaze set upon the old monarch once more, assessing astutely, “There is more at play than this, what is going on here? Why is she of such importance that you willingly mate her with a mortal enemy? What other enemy are we fighting here?”

 

“We, is it?” the old Faery grinned happily, and with a creak to his bones he moved out of his plush throne, motioning them to the window, “The sun will not harm you here vampire,” he assured. “Have you looked outside yet?”

 

“It’s beautiful,” Sookie complimented.

 

“Look closer,” he urged and when they did the lush landscape faded, a barren desert emerging in its place, the sun that Eric had feared suddenly absent, the oppressive heat still present and more straining than before. Sookie let out a frightful cry when she caught sight of Niall by her side, his handsome features suddenly nothing more than rotting flesh with patches of grey skin. While not quite as bad, the other faeries in the room looked just as worse for wear where she and Eric shined brightly with unparalleled health.

 

Niall smiled feebly, stifling a harsh cough, “This place, everyone here, we are all dying. Do you understand our urgency now?”

 

---

 

“We’ve exerted this plane,” Niall explained. “Experimented in others with mixed results. We have but one choice and that is to return to where we once came from, an Domhain, Earth.”

 

“How did this happen?” Sookie asked with a gasp.

 

“We are not sure, we probably spent too much time searching for the cause rather than the solution.”

 

“Sit, Uncle,” Claudine urged, helping him to his throne once more, the glamour of their faux surroundings shifting back in place. “You have to spare yourself.”

 

“I will do what I like,” he grumbled with a dismissive hand. A worried sigh escaped Claudine, her eyes begging Sookie to aid in her stead, which Niall did allow. “What was I saying? Ah yes, how we came to be here. Put simply, war.”

 

“War?” Eric asked, wondering how a war between the Fae would have gone unnoticed through the Supernatural grapevine.

 

“Yes, the decision was made that we would return to Earth, though this was far before your kind’s reveal from your coffins,” he chuckled at the terminology. “We came together with your vampire Authority, and financed and borrowed our expertise for the development of synthetic bloods. It was the only condition through which I could assure safety for my people.”

 

“Explains why TruBlood tastes so damn delicious,” Eric drawled sardonically.

 

“You can’t have everything,” Niall agreed with a snort. “We needed the vampires out in the open.  We didn’t have time to cater to your delicate palettes.”

 

“So you would be safe,” Eric assessed. “you needed us behaving.”

 

Niall nodded, “I have known your kind longer than you have, and not one is alike. There are, however, conditions that appeal to you all; order, structure, hierarchy. The synthetic bloods gave us assurances that we’d be without otherwise. It put forth a framework in which we could co-exist. Things were looking good; the Water clan, however, had different ideas. They pushed for a different agenda, became radical. They wanted assurances of their safety without risk. They want to rule all and wanted to do so by creating chaos.”

 

“Let existing enemies slay each other first,” Eric noted. “Smart.”

 

Niall nodded sagely, “Yes, they’ve leveraged some strong allies into working with them. Ones they’ll betray when they can afford to do so, because they want the Earth all to themselves. Not even we are deemed worthy of it anymore.”

 

“They do not trust us to seek relations with humans,” Cecily added with a roll of her eyes. “They think us weak.”

 

“Russell’s Childe was the first of their attacks, but mistakes were made, and we thought they had killed him until recently,” he shook his head in disapproval. “They were successful with others though, blackmailing their Makers into working with them. The fools, all dead now.”

 

“How is that different from you wanting Eric for his blood without his knowledge?” Sookie asked, voicing the question Eric didn’t dare pose aloud.

 

“It is very different!” Niall protested harshly, falling to a coughing fit once more with the exertion. “We built our relationships with the vampire Authority, we did not force them, and we did not finance that despicable church!” he spat. “We understand that our own demise came from conflict, and we wanted to work with our counterparts even if they were once our natural enemy. We learned that our enemy had to be our ally with stipulations made. We cannot exist without that balance, we cannot exist alone! The state of our realm proves that much, all that is left here is death.”

 

Sookie’s gaze moved to Cecily, her manoeuvring had been the thing that had brought her and Eric together after all. “You were an opportunity,” she whispered. “An opportunity to turn the tide, Godric’s madness was only strengthening their fight unknowingly in his quest for death. It’s what the Water Fae wanted and why I was sent to him against my will. He didn’t understand that standing with that Church meant he was standing with them. The two of you made sense through it all, and yes,” she sighed, “it rewarded me in return, back to my original form, a bargain I struck to free me from them and of that oppressive form, but even without that promise I would have done the same. I begged Niall not to waste his energy on restoring me, but he’d made a promise, and despite the further damage it would cause him he saw it fulfilled, even if it meant bringing the end of this realm sooner.”

 

“You see how we are different,” Niall noted with a satisfied grin. “We understand the unconventional. We deal with reality, not make believe.”

 

“What is it specifically you need from us?” Eric voiced with suspicion.

 

“Amnesty,” Claudine answered, “A safe haven for our kind until we can establish ourselves.”

 

“We were on the brink of war when we ‘disappeared’,” Eric replied. “Safety is far off. The territory that is supposedly ours isn’t even secure.”

 

Niall nodded, “Yet you left an assembly of strong allies and resources. Even without your presence they have been doing well.”

 

“Have?” Sookie asked in confusion.

 

“Time is not a congruent thing between here and there, my dear,” Niall smiled indulgently. “It makes our strategy and choice of actions all the more difficult. We are constantly gambling on a future that passes us by quicker than we can assess. Your friend will deliver her child soon, the Mexican forces have been kept at bay, and territories have been retained. The human population, however, is turning against them and all things Supernatural. The violence is running out of hand.”

 

“We have to go back!” Sookie exclaimed with worry. “They don’t even know where we’ve gone!”

 

“Yet, they still fight your cause,” Niall smiled indulgently, ignoring her sudden urgency. “They have come to understand you are here with the aid of a witch, and they eagerly await your return. Do not worry, this war, it is not necessarily a bad thing.”

 

“Parts of your original plans haven’t changed, have they?” Eric voiced suspiciously. “You seek to be the saviour of the human race, and win your place at the cost of another?”

 

“We do what we need to keep them content!” Niall scoffed defensively. “If it helps our cause, it helps us.”

 

Eric smirked, shaking his head, “That attitude will not bring you far in this new world. I had a similar outlook once,” he continued before looking at Sookie, squeezing her hand gently while she smiled back with the recognition, “don’t underestimate them, in the end they rule us all.”

 

---

 

“Say it properly!” Pam demanded.

 

“Those carpets do not match the drapes?” Talbot tried, the lisp in his voice only adding further to the insecurity present in his tone.

 

“It’s not a question!” she huffed. “Assert yourself! You’re a vampire for fuck’s sake!”

 

“Those carpets do not match the drapes!” he yelled back.

 

“Slightly better, but not quite. Let’s try it again, ‘Those carpets…”

 

“Remind me not to let her near our child,” Tara muttered to Godric. “Why are we all living here again?”

 

“You know it is to keep you and the baby safe,” he reminded with a sigh. “We are at war. These are not secure times for anyone.”

 

“I seem to be moving from one prison to the other,” she complained. “I’d like to be able to decorate MY own nursery for MY own child!”

 

He regarded her with confusion, “Russell assured me Pamela is an excellent decorator.”

 

“I think you misunderstood dictator for decorator,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes.

 

“Please do not fight again,” Godric pleaded. “Dr. Ludwig says it’s not good for the child.”

 

“I’m not making any promises,” she huffed. “It’s bad enough she uses Talbot as her lackey in his attempt to rediscover his inner bitch, Jason and Stan horn over her in their every waking moment, Russell treats her like his consort, and to top it off, she has that prime piece of wolf man candy who caters to her every whim!”

 

Godric could barely hide his smirk, let alone the laugh that begged to be bellowed out, “Are you jealous?”

 

“Of course I’m fucking jealous!” she snapped. “I’m the size of an ocean liner, I can’t leave this house for fear of being abducted again, never mind the batshit craziness the human idiots are up to. Keeping this baby was the worst idea ever! I’m constantly horny, hungry, and I’m fucking pissed! To top it all off; you’re no help!”

 

He looked slightly guilty, though his amusement was not completely abated. He had been of little help in that sense, in a moment of desperation she’d ‘forced’ him to have sex with her. It had been a rather embarrassing affair and sensibly, neither one had ever spoken of it again. “You know it had nothing to do with your…” he trailed softly, swallowing the last word unsuccessfully, “size.”

 

“It better have been my size!” she growled. “I’ve had enough bouncy blonde hair competition my entire life!”

 

Unsure what the right response would be, he offered lamely, “If it makes you feel better, I wouldn’t touch Pam if she were the last woman on earth. Nay! The universe!”

 

Miraculously that disarmed Tara’s agitated state, tearing up as she did, “You mean it?”

 

“Yes,” he replied honestly. “She’s entertaining enough, but I think I would prefer to roam this earth on my own instead. I will command her to listen to your wishes. I am her King, she will listen.”

 

“I’m her Queen, and that doesn’t seem to impress her one bit,” Tara still hated the title she had reluctantly accepted for her and the baby’s future safety after much resistance. She didn’t fail to treat it with disdain whenever it was mentioned nor remind Godric what a ridiculous political system the Supernatural pursued, though he’d always remind her now was not a time for revolution.

 

“Perhaps,” he pointed out gently, “if you took that role seriously, she would.”

 

“No, I won’t. Fatty Fangless, move along,” the contented woman herself drawled with annoyance, gesturing her need to access the refrigerator. “Mama needs some breakfast.”

 

Tara’s arms remained crossed and unmoving like the rest of her body, “I had Jason move the blood to the other fridge, the vampire fridge.”

 

“I know,” she shrugged. “I had him put it back, now move!”

 

“Bite me, vampire Barbie!”

 

Her fangs ran out instantly. “Was that an invite?” Pam drawled, suddenly seductive and uncharacteristically soft, a chilled finger tracing over a nervous palpitating vein, “The gravid taste especially sweet.”

 

“Tara, perhaps you should lay down to rest,” Godric tried gently, sensing the distress Pam had resurfaced, reliving the worst moments of her captivity, while desperately trying not to use his calming influence on her through their bond, knowing from experience that would only make it far worse. She nodded numbly, and with a gesture from Godric, Talbot led her towards her bedroom.

 

“Yes, go rest that fat ass,” Pam yelled after her. “It looks like it hasn’t seen a pillow for at least fifteen minutes!”

 

“Pamela!” Godric warned. “You will leave her alone now! Or-”

 

“Or what?” she mocked. “You’ll end me? Send me away? Yes, I’m sure you’ll do that, and watch this tightly organised machine fall to shit. Again.”

 

“Pamela,” he pronounced with ill temper through clenched lips. “Yes, you are essential to this operation, I have commended you many times for this. This does not, however, allow you to forget your place. You will treat Tara with respect or force me to act.”

 

“And do what?” she cackled. “Put me in the torture chamber with Isabelle? Oh wait, you don’t have one, she’s just bored out of her mind, sitting on her pampered bed. For. Months.”

 

“We are not torturing her,” Godric replied with a clipped tone. “Mexico is no longer a threat. She is no threat.”

 

“I can’t believe Russell listens to you!” Pam growled. “We’ll never know what Mexicunt is hiding that could be of use to us.”

 

“She’s Spanish,” Stan pointed out smugly.

 

“Potato, patata,” she shrugged.

 

“There are other ways to gain the information we need,” Godric sighed. “Stan assured me he has been making progress.”

 

“By prying her dry little legs apart?” Pam snorted.

 

“You’d be amazed what someone reveals during pillow talk,” Stan grinned with his sudden appearance. While swatting her ass he leaned in to her ear, whispering, “Want me to tell everyone about your fear of fluffy little bunny wabbits?”

 

“Don’t you dare!” she shrieked.

 

“Be nice to Tara then,” Stan smirked. “She’s a nice enough broad.”

 

“Fucking traitor!” she snarled, slapping his face hard in retaliation.

 

“You know you love it,” Stan grinned. “Just own up to the fact you want to fuck her and get on with your unlife.”

 

“I’d rather fuck Isabel,” she growled.

 

“YES!” Jason encouraged, before starting his chant of “Fuck her!” soon to be joined by Stan in an out of tune chorus. Logan merely looked up with an amused gaze from his laptop while she shrugged innocently.

 

“I probably should,” Pam remarked off-handed. “I’d get more intel from her than you two ever could.”

 

“Au contraire, Sweetcheeks,” Stan boasted, only to be nudged in the side by Jason, which had him soon amending, voice syrupy sweet, “but who am I to stop you from trying? Go ahead, don’t mind if we watch.”

 

“Children,” Godric reprimanded with a shake of his head. “You will cease this, NOW! What did you learn from Isabel, Stan?”

 

“I don’t know if I should say,” Stan goaded. “Pam over here might get her ego bruised.”

 

“As if!”

 

“Fine,” he grinned. “She finally confessed who her Maker is.”

 

“How is that going to bruise my ego? She certainly isn’t mine!” Pam scoffed. “Like a Childe of mine would ever wear those things she calls clothes.”

 

“It’s Niccoló,” Stan revealed, ignoring Pam momentarily, his gazing finding her again with a triumphant grin when he delivered the second titillating titbit of the night, “Seems he’s quite the strategist, even she can hardly keep track. Mexico was a ruse, he commanded her to engage them, elicit the fight so they’d be weakened, and told her to make sure they lost.”

 

“Impossible!” Pam denied. “I defeated that bitch fair and square!”

 

“Of course you did,” Godric agreed gently, hoping to avoid another scuffle and overpriced decorating bill.

 

“Don’t you take that Tara tone with me!” she huffed. “Isabel’s a fucking liar.”

 

“Wouldn’t be so sure of that, Pumpkin,” Russell piped in. “Outside of this room, there are very few who know of Niccoló and his position. Whether it’s true or not, the information is relevant. Whatever is between them, there is a connection there.”

 

Pam had started to scowl indignantly, only to be disrupted by the alarm system blaring at full blast. Tallulah, the court witch, rushed in with worried eyes, “Something tried to breach the wards! It came out of nowhere!”

 

“We didn’t see anyone approach,” Logan supplied while reviewing the security footage. “They appear to be on the lawn just outside the perimeter now.”

 

“Fuck, yes!” Stan cheered. “I’ve been waiting for a good fight!”

 

“Get your weapons,” Pam directed, her previous composure instantly transforming to the hardened battle-woman in command.

 

“Wait!” Logan urged. The vampire contingency, however, had already sped from the house, chasing after them as fast as he could.

 

Pam’s eyes narrowed at the sight before her, “So good of you to join us,” she mocked with a hiss and a set of gleaming fangs that descended at a teasing rate. “Aw, how sweet! You brought dinner.”

 

 

>

 

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A/N: More next time I promise, any guesses whose there? Hope you enjoyed my rude little Pam who appears to be ruling the roost… *snickers*

 

Much thanks to msbuffy for her excellent editing skills.