A/N: I'm so glad to see many previous readers returning to the story. Thank you for the kind reviews! This chapter is a bit heavy in content, but I feel like Britta has to break completely before she can finally start to heal herself, and her relationship with Eric. Again, thank you for continuing to read, and any reviews are welcome. :)

She relished the feel of hot fresh blood filling her mouth.

It had been far too long since she'd been able to simple enjoy the taste of human blood without anyone judging her movements or the motive behind her actions.

How had something so delicious been so easy to quit?

Tru Blood came onto the market when she wasn't facing a devastating heartbreak. Her mind and heart weren't screaming in pure agony. She only craved fresh blood when she missed her old life.

The life that had once given her sunlight and warmth.

Oh, how she missed the sun.

She'd give anything to walk out into the sea once again while the reflection of light danced across the water, just to see Eric gazing back with that boyish grin that he used to own, beaming for her alone. He would then take a breath before disappearing beneath the ocean's broken surface.

That was the same man that taught her to swim, afraid that she would die from drowning in the harsh waves if she failed to learn.

And somehow, that was also the same man who took the sun away from her himself…murdering her in a much harsher way then the sea ever could.

Britta suddenly began to hear a gurgling sound that brought her back to the present. At first, she didn't know where it was coming from. But it seemed to be getting louder and louder. The blood wasn't gushing into her mouth as freely now. She was having a difficult time gaining access to the delicious, sweet liquid.

"P…please."

Britta opened her eyes to the surrounding darkness, taking in the struggling plea.

Shit.

She sat up quickly, only to see a stranger straddled beneath her, blood spouting from his mouth as he silently begged her to keep him from dying. And he was dying.

It was all in the heartbeat, after all.

And his heart was beating at a dull rhythm that was nearly indistinguishable.

Britta only intended to get away for a little while. Snatch, eat, and then glamour them into forgetting everything. But she had gone too far once again, and Pam wasn't around to feed them her blood this time.

"No," Britta breathed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "You can't die. I'm sorry."

"Help…me," he gurgled again, his eyes pleading. He was scared to die. Anyone could see that, and it tugged at Britta's humanity. She was still in there. She wasn't turning into a monster. Everything would be okay. She only needed space. Some alone time to gather her troubled thoughts.

She didn't want to feed this strange human her blood, however. She didn't know him. He was just some man who had stumbled out of a bar in Shreveport; the first human she saw of the night.

She didn't want to feel his emotions or keep track of him for the rest of his life. It was hard enough keeping track of her own self. Luckily, Pam and Eric had killed the V addicts who had drank from her in Dallas.

No one currently alive had tasted her blood.

Suddenly, the man stopped with the gurgling despite his eyes telling her that he was still very much alive and suffering. Britta looked down, noticing the gold wedding band wrapped around his finger. He had a wife, and probably a family.

It was in that moment that she made up her mind.

"Okay, sir. Everything is going to be okay. I promise."

Britta bit the inside of her wrist. Blood began pouring from her like a fountain. She put it to the man's lips, instantly relaxing as he began drinking from her easily. She was a little nauseated by the action. Blood sharing was usually reserved for a vampire-human relationship, or at the very least, close friends who were in danger.

In eleven-hundred years, she had never healed one of her own victims. Godric forbid her to save them, while Eric had convinced her they were at the bottom of the food chain for a reason, and it was normal if they died. It wasn't her fault.

Eric had only told her that to try to save her from the deep guilt, though it hadn't worked.

She knew that now.

Over time, she was able to simply stop and send them on their way once Godric was no longer in their daily lives. If the human wasn't injured to the brink of death, there was no reason to give them your blood.

"That's enough," Britta said, tearing her wrist away from the thirsty man. She grabbed him by the scruff of his chin, holding him steady as she caught his eye. When was the last time she glamoured someone? It had been so long that she hoped she remembered how. "This never happened. I didn't attack you."

"You didn't attack me," he repeated. That was a good sign. The glamouring was working.

"You stumbled out of the bar and walked home because you were too drunk to drive," she said, adding a little safety precaution for good measure. "What's your wife's name?" she asked, looking down at the name tag on his work shirt before finishing, "Kevin."

"Mary Anne."

"Go home to Mary Anne and be a really good husband to her. Got it?"

He nodded in response.

"Cheat on her, or hurt her in any way, and I'll find you. I'll rip your fucking throat out," Britta finished, tapping his chest with a satisfied smile before standing on her feet and helping Kevin get to his.

"You're strong for a little girl," he said, still a bit dazed from the blood and glamouring.

"Just go home, Kevin," Britta sighed as she gave him a light shove, watched as the man walked out of the covered woods and towards the nearby street, shuffling his feet before disappearing around the bend.


1,115 years ago (898 AD)

"My fairest of maidens, I beseech you! Do not be afraid for I am your brave knight, prepared to battle any enemies that may dare take you away from me, including the sea itself! Come to me my sweet girl. Do not make me wait."

Britta laughed, squinting her eyes against the harsh evening sun as she watched Eric dramatically turn before diving beneath the ocean. He instantly popped back up, spouting water from his mouth as if it were a Greek fountain. He smiled, finding his footing, standing tall as he waited for her to join him.

The water cascading down his lean body instantly made her mouth go dry. He really was a vision of perfection.

When Britta remained firmly on solid ground, Eric reached out his arm, wiggling his finger tips to try and push her along.

"I know that you live for the sea, Eric. But I'm still terrified. Especially after what happened when you brought me home with you."

Eric's face dropped before he placed his hands against his hips, all teasing laid aside. "I'm sorry I pushed you beneath the water, Brit. I had no idea you couldn't swim. Every man, woman, and child from the North has been taught to survive the current. I never imagined it wasn't the same in the South."

"The South is poor. In the North, the rich have time to learn such luxuries as swimming."

"And now you are a lady of the North, my dear. So, I shall teach you to swim as if you've been doing it your entire life."

"You're that confident in your abilities, are you?" Britta smirked, crossing her arms over her chest as she challenged his teachings.

Eric gasped, clutching at his chest as if she wounded his pride. "I'll have you swimming like a champion come the end of the season. You'll love the tournaments that take place yearly."

"And are women allowed to enter these tournaments?"

"No worry," Eric winked, slowly walking towards her as if he were a sea god rising from the dark depths. Her heart beat faster the closer her got. She was still getting used to how beautiful he was. So beautiful, in fact, that it was almost difficult to gaze upon. "We will just cut your hair off and put you in trousers. No one will know the difference."

"Eric!" Britta cried, offended. Suddenly, his half naked body was momentarily forgotten. Did he just say she looked like a boy? Suddenly, her feet were lifted from the ground as he easily carried her bridal style before once again retreating back to where he came from. She held tight to him.

He chuckled. "Relax, Britta. Firstly, I'll never allow your beautiful hair to be cut off. And second, no one in their right mind would ever mistake you for a boy. You're breathtaking, and you know it."

"Don't drop me," she said, ignoring his compliment as the cool water slowly met her backside.

"Loosen your grip, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear. "Just relax and let the waves carry you away."

"I'd rather they not carry me away. That's the problem."

He laughed at her panic. Eric reached behind his neck, taking her arms away. Britta tried to stand, but there was no surface below her. Luckily, Eric remained close, so she was able to grab for his arms and chest.

"Turn around," he commanded, spinning her by the waist.

"Eric," she pleaded, spitting out the salty water as it filled her mouth.

"Relax, Britta. I'll not leave you. I'll never leave you," he spoke softly, holding her lightly by the waist. This was the closest that they had dared to get thus far. The thin linen fabric of her ankle length tunic touched against his bare chest as he hooked one finger into the belt fastened around her waist. He had offered to put her in the nicest of gowns, but they were hideously bulky and uncomfortable. Besides, Britta had a feeling he enjoyed seeing her in something so simple and sleek that showed off her developing figure.

She held still as he ran his nose up and down her exposed neck, breathing her in. The lightest of kisses brushed against her flesh, and she visibly shivered. My God, what was he turning her into? They were betrothed. Not yet man and wife. It wasn't proper to act in such a manner.

As if he read her mind, he backed up a little, allowing her to finally breathe.

"Don't let go," Britta said again, frantically kicking her feet to keep from sinking. Once more, sea water filled her mouth as she gasped, causing her to cough.

"I'm not going anywhere. Lie on your back. I'll not let go. Trust me."

Reluctantly, she started to sink backwards, lifting her legs until they were parallel with her body. Eric's hand rested on the back of her head, keeping her from drowning. His tall figure loomed over her, blocked out the harsh setting sun from her vision. It was as if he wore a halo. There was zero chance that her golden Viking was real. Or at the very least, he wasn't human.

Soft drops of water fell from the tips of his long hair and onto her skin.

"I do love these long locks of yours, Britta," he said, reaching out to touch the strands that floated around them.

"And I love you," Britta confessed, gasping at the words that had just left her lips unexpectedly. Eric paused, his mouth setting into a harsh line as he gazed down at her, shocked.

Britta willed the universe to take it back.

But it was too late.

The astounded look on Eric's face was unnerving as he remained completely silent.

At that moment, she wished he would let her go so she could sink to the bottom of the ocean in peace, and be swallowed whole by the rumored sea creatures that live below.

But then something magnificent and unexpected happened.

So magnificent in fact, that it almost made up for his speechlessness at her shocking confession.

He bent his head, capturing her lips with his own that instantly warmed her cold body. This wasn't like the first kiss they had shared on their first day together. That had been a little more than a promise of what was yet to come.

This kiss was passionate as she willingly opened her mouth to allow him access, reaching her own hand up to grasp the back of his neck as he continued to press his warm lips against her own. While he hadn't expressed his love in return, it's almost as if she could feel it hidden behind this simple act of affection.

If she had to wait a lifetime to hear him say that he loved her, she would wait, as long as he continued to treat her as if she were more precious than the throne he would one day sit upon.

Yes, she loved Eric Northman.

It would easily take ten lifetimes or more before she would willingly part from his side.


Britta stopped in her tracks when she saw Eric sitting on the stoop outside of Fangtasia, one wrist held tight as he wrapped his long arms around his bent legs.

"Did you have a nice night?" he asked. Britta was surprised to hear the genuineness in his question, instead of sarcasm.

"It was fine," she answered, slowly walking closer to his overpowering figure.

He raised his blue eyes hesitantly. They looked sad and a little defeated; tired almost. The sun would be up soon, but it was still too early for a vampire to succumb to exhaustion.

"You have blood on your lips," he told her like it was no big deal.

Britta quickly wiped at her mouth; oddly embarrassed given blood was all they survived on.

"I wasn't recorded feeding, and I didn't kill anyone. I even glamoured him. You don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried," he spoke softly before once again bowing his head to look at the ground. "I know that you need a little time to yourself. I've been suffocating you ever since I brought you home."

"Since you brought me to Louisiana?" Britta asked, shrugging. "Maybe once you opened Fangtasia. The video store wasn't so bad. I kind of enjoyed having five customers a night and reading books at the cash register."

"Since I brought you home," he repeated firmly once more to clarify his meaning. "Since I picked you out of a line up like you were little more than cattle for sale."

She could hear the tears in his voice. Britta stiffened at the sound. Eric didn't cry. He never cried. Not anymore.

Just last night, she had told Eric that she was done with him. She was done competing for his affections and never feeling good enough. But this sight of him instantly tugged at her heartstrings. She wanted to hate him, but he made it so hard sometimes.

Britta stomped the rest of the way to where Eric sat, sitting down next to him on the low stoop. She could feel him stiffen despite the glance he risked in her direction. She could sense that he was trying to not scare her off.

"That wasn't your fault. I never blamed you for how we met. I was excited, if I'm being completely honest."

He sniffled. "You were?"

"Amma and Elina were pissed off. They were terrified. But they both had good home lives. Mine sucked. My mom was dead. My dad was an abusive ass. There were kids everywhere crammed into a one room hovel. It was horrible. Trust me, there were worse things than being swept off my feet by a handsome Viking, moving into a bedroom bigger than my entire living space had been."

"You think I'm handsome?" he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smug grin despite the red liquid that rested in the corner of his eyes.

Britta swatted his arm. "I'm not blind…jerk."

"Then why won't you let me touch you anymore?"

Britta's eyes widened, horrified. Where in the hell had that come from? His voice was so sad and full of question, she was momentarily convinced this wasn't the same Eric she's always known.

"I'm sorry. Forget I even I asked," Eric quickly tried to recover his words, attempting to erase what he had just said.

"It's complicated."

He nodded in understand, though his jaw began working as he grinded his teeth together. "I sent someone to help Sookie. I'm done with her. And as for Yvette. I fired her and threw her out while you were gone."

Britta gazed at Eric's profile. It's as if she were memorizing him for the first time, even though she could easily trace every angle of his strong jaw and bone structure from perfect memory. "Your live-in stripper and prostitute?"

He nodded. "I want to give this whole…monogamy thing a try."

"Monogamy thing?"

"I love you," Eric breathed. Britta stiffened, having the sudden urge to run. He loved her? He loved her for right now, but what about tomorrow? "I have always loved you, and I'm sorry that you've never felt like you were the most important person in my life."

Britta wiped at the wetness on her cheek, looking down at the blood smeared on her own fingertip like it was completely foreign to her. "I hate when you fall in love with different women, Eric. But I'm used to the girls you fuck."

"I'm quitting cold turkey. You're all I need, Brit. You're all I've ever needed, and I've just been too stupid to realize that until now."

Britta's chest tightened with a new kind of panic that she hadn't felt in so long.

"I can't have sex with you," Britta breathed, her body shaking in fear as she wrapped her arms around her legs defensively, slowly closing herself off once more. "You can keep Yvette. I - - I would just rather not have Sookie around. That's all."

"Baby," Eric whispered, reaching out to touch her. Britta growled low, but somehow remained firm, allowing him to pull her closer to his side. "That's not what this is about. I can wait until you're ready. But if this has to do with Sookie…or even what happened with Nora centuries ago…they mean nothing to me. You haven't let me touch you in 523 years. A man can only take so much."

Britta peeked out from behind her hair, looking up at her Maker and husband. "You've kept track?"

"Are you kidding me? It's all I fucking think about."

Britta could feel hot blood pouring from her eyes now, which Eric wiped away with his thumb, bringing her closer to his chest as sobs tore through her.

"Talk to me, Brit. Please. Don't shut me out any longer."

"Th...there's things I never told you; that I swore I'd never say."

"What things?" Eric asked, genuinely confused as he pressed her to answer. "And what in the hell does it have to do with you and I sleeping together? You've been with me for all but fourteen years of your entire existence. I doubt there's anything I don't know about you, sweetheart."

"I heard you telling Godric to go talk to me. He said he wanted to apologize. I wish you would just stop shoving him down my throat. That's why I went out tonight. I don't want to talk. I just want to be left alone."

Eric backed away at this, grabbing her by the chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"It always ends up coming back full circle to Godric, doesn't it? I thought that maybe he could help. That's why I asked him here tonight."

"You don't understand," she said, tearing herself from his grasp so she could stand.

"Then tell me!" he screamed, leaping to his feet after her. "Stop hiding inside yourself and just tell me what I don't know! I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. I'm your Maker. Not a mind reader."

"You can't do anything to help me! That's the problem! I just want to die, Eric! Just let me die," she wailed, crumbling to the cement ground in pure agony. Eric's feet stayed rooted in place beside her bowed head. He made no move to hold her. She never wanted to know what emotion he currently held on his face after her deepest, darkest desire just left her lips.

Sadness? Repulsion? Loathsomeness?

She could hear the front door to Fangtasia opening as she kept her gaze hidden from sight. They were all silent. Britta could only imagine the pity that she would see if she were to look. She wouldn't be able to handle it.

The sun couldn't come fast enough.

"Eric," Pam spoke softly, her expensive pumps coming to stand directly beside them. "I think you should take her away for a little while. I can handle Fangtasia by myself. Shreveport is the last place she needs to be right now."

"She was never like this before," Eric choked out. "She was happy once. I did this."

"No, my son," Godric quickly chimed in. "I did."

They were talking like she wasn't crumbled in front of them. Is that what she had been reduced to? A pathetic invisible shell of a girl?

"There's something I need to tell you, Eric," Godric spoke, cutting through Britta's insides like a knife.

"No!" Britta screamed as she rose to her knees, covering her ears in desperation. "Just shut up!"

It was in that moment that realization slowly began to dawn on Eric's face. He gazed from Godric to her several times in shock. He was looking at her like he had never seen her before, replaced by a horrified expression. He momentarily looked sick, but then it all changed.

She had never seen Eric look at his Maker with such hatred and disgust, even when Godric had once peeled her skin slowly off with silver just to hear her scream.

"I'm going to meet the sun, Eric," Godric said, his eyes turning down to look into her own bleeding ones. "It is time that I atone for my many sins."