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CHARACTERS: Eric Northman and Thranduil
LOCATION: The Oxygen Gardens
WARNINGS: vampire feedings and grumpy old elves
SUMMARY: Thranduil has summoned Eric to the Oxygen Gardens to "beg his pardon" in person.
NOTES: Continued from this IC inbox summons.

Thranduil has summoned him yet again to the Oxygen Gardens, and Eric has half a mind not to go. He's gotten enough abuse and frustration over this accidental bond to make him consider it. But Thranduil is talking about 'begging his pardon' and if Jaye put him up to this then it can't be all that bad, whatever he has in mind. At least in theory.

He doesn't need to ask where to find Thranduil, he knows instinctively where he is through their bond, and so he seeks him out, appearing without a word much the same as he did the last time. He's hoping that this will go a lot better than their last conversation. He does not have the patience that he did then, not after the way the past few weeks have gone.

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He doesn't look when Eric turns up. He's standing with one hand behind his back and sipping a glass of mead. Liquid courage, it's sometimes called. And yet he can tell this time that his need for it is needless, his anxiety is groundless.

He swallows as Eric appears. "I owe you more than one debt, it would seem. As much for Jaye as for myself. She told me you helped her."

Edited 2013-12-08 18:15 (UTC)

Well, this is unexpected. Starting right off the bat talking about debts owed to him and all. Didn't they leave off with Thranduil hung up on the idea of what Eric wanted from him in return, rather than any sense of gratitude on his behalf. Not that it was necessary, that is. Eric has far better things to do with his time than mope over not being thanked. But it's definitely a different tune than the one he'd been playing before. His surprise at this is enough to show on his face, a little, in a wary glance at Thranduil.

"Human recovery is painfully slow, and she was chafing, stuck in the medbay. I aided the healing process," he replies. He's not sure where Thranduil is going with this, or where it came from.

"Did you know she lives with me now?" Thranduil sets down his glass and walks slowly toward Eric. "She is mine much in the way she is yours. Without your aid, who knows what may have happened to her? Too much already had."

He stands in front of Eric, face-to-face and eye-to-eye. "I seldom trust, Eric. And when I trust it is only to a point. It is a wariness that has kept my people alive for a long time. And yet I made a promise to Jaye that I would practice trusting you. She wishes it of me, and..."

A deep breath.

"And I weary of this feud. Of this struggle to maintain a needless fear. I have done wrong by you."

Slowly, he draws his long hair over one shoulder and tugs at his collar, baring one side of his throat.

"I was aware that she lived in the gardens," Eric remarks, casually. Because he's visited her there. Thranduil, thankfully for his delicate sensibilities, must have been out that day. Whether or not she commented about living with Thranduil at that moment, he cannot remember. His mind had been a little otherwise preoccupied, as it were.

He watches as Thranduil pushes his hair back over his shoulder, baring his throat to him, listens to the other's explanation of himself. He wonders if Thranduil understands the gesture he is making in offering himself to him as such. Perhaps he does. It is a form of submission in the extreme, after all, offering his throat to him. If ever there were a way to trust someone, it would be with your life. And it would be so easy for Eric to just end it all right there, if he wanted to. He wouldn't, but the thought is there, how fragile life is.

"You would allow me to feed from you?" he questions, regarding Thranduil levelly.

He didn't even allow Godric to feed from his neck the first time. This is an act of ultimate trust, and the best way he can think to begin a cycle of change between them. He gives a slow nod in response to Eric, ignoring the anxiety fluttering in his heart and hands.

Eric can feel the anxiety there, through their bond, and he can hear Thranduil's heart, like a little bird's. It is not hard to feel like a predator when your companion is responding to you thus, and Thranduil's reactions are feeding into the most primal of vampire desires. Luckily for the pair of them, Eric has had a long time to learn to keep himself in check. He steps closer, moving to brush a stray strand that Thranduil had missed out of the way, leaving the skin of his neck pale and exposed in the artificial sunlight of the gardens.

Eric's eyes travel up from that spot to meet Thranduil's gaze. "You're nervous," he comments.

"Yes." No point in denying it, nor in feeling shame for it. If it's not going to be a secret between them, he refuses to be ashamed about it. His gaze is steady on Eric's face.

That nervousness is the reason he's doing this. He told Jaye he would practice trusting Eric. There is no surer way to do that than this.

Eric nods in return. He appreciates the honesty, as it is true that there is no point in hiding it from him. He can feel what Thranduil is feeling, after all. It is a step in the right direction, if nothing else.

"You have experienced this before," he points out. "You know what there is to expect, yes?"

"Yes." No. Not from Eric, anyway. He knows the effects Eric is really talking about, but not whatever twist Eric may add to the experience to test him. But realizing in truth that that is probably the worst thing he can possibly expect from Eric is reassuring. So is the solemnity in those ice-blue eyes, and the respect of the gravity of this moment. Respect. Not something he expected from Eric, not ever.

"You will stop if I tell you to?" He barely remembers to phrase it as a question and not a demand.

Eric might not respect humans themselves, but he has been taught to respect the act of feeding. Blood is sacred, even that of the person that he is feeding on. And while it's true that he has not treated every feeding with the same level of respect, they are bonded. Any pain he causes Thranduil will be pain he causes himself. Any suffering he causes will be suffering he will have to live with, so to speak.

So in response to Thranduil's question, Eric raises an eyebrow as if to say 'I wasn't created yesterday, I have some self-control,' before he speaks up, nodding. "I will stop if you request it of me." He won't, that is part of the glamour of the feeding, it feels good so the one making the donation does not stop the vampire until they are done, but Eric will still offer if it makes Thranduil feel better.

"You may end this bond." The words come somewhat breathlessly. "This moment, you may end it for ever. But you might have done so before as well, if you were quick."

His eyes, sharp as chiseled ice, don't leave Eric's. He knows that once he is bitten, he is completely at Eric's mercy, as much as he would pretend he has control.

Edited 2013-12-10 13:45 (UTC)

Eric nods. He could have ended this, and Thranduil's life for that matter, any time that he so chose. But he has not. In fact, he has done quite the opposite, in saving the elf as he has and creating the bond in the first place. To kill him now would go against what he has established. Not to mention that it would not be a pleasant experience for either of them, not when he would be able to feel Thranduil die.

"I may," he confirms. "But I will not. And you will have to trust that." He knows that he is stating the obvious, but with the words hanging there between them, with Thranduil's eyes regarding them as they are, the words need to be said.

"I know." The nervousness calms somewhat. Not from what Eric has said so much as his tone. There is something in them working together on this. Eric is helping him practice trust.

His gaze shifts to slightly above Eric's eyeline.

"I am ready."

Eric needs Thranduil's gaze to meet his for the magic of the glamour to be a success. He is not fool enough to ask the other to trust him and then feed from him without it. But with Thranduil's gaze trailing higher and away from his eyes in a sense of self-preservation or Eric doesn't know what, that's going to be an issue. So Eric acts as he sees fit, reaching out to cup a hand against the other's cheek and guide his gaze back towards his eyes. Only then does he release the magic and speak his words.

"This will not hurt. It will give you pleasure," Eric says, and it will. Their line especially is talented at making the bite not only tolerable but pleasurable, with the aid of the glamour.

He doesn't really know why Eric is stating the obvious. Of course it won't hurt. It never hurt when Godric did it, after the initial bite. And nothing Eric says could possibly be false.

Feeling strangely lethargic, he nods.

Eric nods in response to Thranduil's nod. He has already been given all the permission he needs, and that is even before he has applied the glamour to the other. So Eric leans forward and bares Thranduil's neck again, brushing a hand over the skin there and flicking his eyes up to meet Thranduil's gaze once more, before he tips his head forward, unsheathes his fangs, and bites down. Almost reflexively, an arm sneaks around the other's back, holding him there in place against him. Oh, but the neck is one of his favorite places to feed from, with the way that they always just seem to fit...

Thranduil sucks in a breath, his eyes rolling back and his lips parting. Hands sneak under Eric's arms to hold on to his shoulders from behind. There it is, that beautiful euphoria where everything falls away and nothing hurts anymore. Everything is light and he is young.

As soon as Eric's fangs pierce the skin and that first taste of Thranduil's blood rushes into his mouth, he is filled with a similar sense of ecstasy. He must keep himself in control, he knows - it wouldn't do to drink too much and cause the other harm while Thranduil is giving himself in an exercise of trust as he is. It would be so easy to just let go and lose himself in this moment, in the warmth of the flavor of his blood, like liquid sunshine and contentedness. He must be strong. But for now he will drink and savor this moment and the euphoria it fills him with. Thranduil's blood really is incredible.

He doesn't need to feed that much but it's the principle of the matter, and the fact that Thranduil is supposed to be learning to trust him, that keeps Eric latched on a little longer than he needs to be.

He does not know when one of his hands buried itself in Eric's hair, holding him steady but not firm against his throat. He never gets to feel like this any other time. He opens his eyes and even the trees seem greener around them.

That hand in Eric's hair makes him want to let go even less. With Thranduil's blood in him, he can almost feel the plants around them breathe. The artificial light feels like the sun, warm and inviting. He can feel Thranduil's heartbeat, and while they are connected, it's almost as if it's his own. He doesn't want this to stop. The one thing that letting go has going for it is that this feeling will not end immediately. Eric stays hanging on for another moment longer, before he forces himself to pull back.

"...you are exquisite," he comments, his voice breathless, his arms still around Thranduil for the moment, although whether that's for his own benefit or Thranduil's he's not certain just yet. If he isn't holding on he might just float away.

Thranduil lets out his breath and releases Eric as the euphoria fades. This is the part he hates, where he has to come down to set his feet on the disappointment that nothing has actually changed.

Nothing except that he placed his life squarely in Eric's hands, and Eric gave it back to him.

He takes hold of the vampire's elbows to keep him steady. "You had best heal the wounds. Someone might see."

"Mmm," Eric comments, and pricks a finger with one of his fangs, moving to wipe the blood over the bite. It is neat and tidy - Eric is not a messy eater, he can be good when he wants to be - and so it takes almost no time to heal up.

Unfortunately for Thranduil, while his own euphoria fades, it will be a while before the magic wears off for Eric. He looks up at the trees above them, at the artificial sun beaming down at them, and for the moment he can imagine that it's real, he feels so warm and content. That puts a smile on his face. He glances down at Thranduil. "I had forgotten about this," he says. Well, not completely, but he'd forgotten the finer details. And being on the Cylla, he hadn't had time to appreciate the effects of Thranduil's blood. Now, though, here in the oxygen gardens, he could enjoy it all he wanted. He felt like flying. Maybe he would, if he got this interaction right.

That's...kind of adorable. Thranduil's lips twitch into a flash of a soft smile, but it's gone as soon as it comes.

"How long did the effects last for Godric?"

Eric shakes his head. "I do not know," he says, honestly, his expression a lot more open and honest than usual. "I did not see him until well after he had left with you. A day, perhaps. That is usually the way these things go. We do not necessarily have a circulatory system, we are not exactly metabolizing what we ingest." He glances back at Thranduil. "I suppose it depends on how long your magic lasts," he says, with a shrug, feeling high as a kite.

"That is a word I have never understood." Thranduil shakes his head softly. "Mortals use it to mean nearly anything. But my life is connected to the life of my world. Perhaps that is what runs in you now."

"I am not mortal," Eric corrects Thranduil, with none of the attitude that he might have otherwise. "And it is not your world I have fed from. It was you. Maybe it is your kind, maybe it's your age and your blood itself. Maybe it is both." Eric takes a moment to reach out and toy with a strand of Thranduil's hair. He could swear that the strands are actually sparking in the light of the gardens. His gaze is oddly intense, if a bit unfocused.

Thranduil looks vaguely uncomfortable and delicately attempts to extract the lock of hair from Eric's grasp. "Perhaps you ought to sit down."

With hands in lap. Not touching anyone.

Eric may have been able to read the cues that Thranduil is uncomfortable while he was sober, but sober he definitely is not. He is stronger than Thranduil but the elf does not need to exert that much force to get him to let go of his hair. Of course, his hand coming up to save his hair like that brings Eric's attention to Thranduil's skin. Milk white. Like moonlight, Eric thinks to himself, as his gaze shifts to study Thranduil's hands. It is only because he knows subconsciously that it would perhaps scare his companion that his fangs do not unsheathe themselves again.

"I do not tire," Eric says, definitely not taking the hint.

Elves are beautiful, Thranduil no more or less so than most of his kin. But he doesn't really think about it most of the time. Certainly the scrutiny Eric is giving him is more invasive an admiration than he's used to even from mortals. He puts himself at arm's length and places his hands on Eric's shoulders, gently encouraging him downward while looking him directly in the eye.

"Sit."

Eric doesn't quite understand why Thranduil would be directing him to sit. He doesn't want to sit, in fact he wants to do the opposite of sit. He feels like running around, he feels like flying. He feels like rolling in the grass before this feeling leaves him. He does not know when he will get the next chance to feed from Thranduil. He does not know if he ever will, for that matter. Nothing is a guarantee. He will not waste this by sitting.

So he stops halfway to a sitting position and moves to stand again. "No," he says. "The air is fresh in here. We should enjoy it."

"You can enjoy it sitting down."

Eric shakes his head. "But we can enjoy it so much more from above."

And before he gives Thranduil the time to consider that comment, he wraps an arm around the other's waist and lifts off the ground, quickly rising to just above the tree tops.

Thranduil has never experienced a takeoff like this in six and a half thousand years of living. That would be why he gasps and throws his arms around Eric's neck and his legs around his waist, clinging on for dear life. If Eric wants him to trust him, now's the make or break point, because Thranduil's feet are dangling in midair and he knows that at any moment he could be falling to his death far below. He won't look down, just straight ahead over the vampire's shoulder.

Eric vaguely recognizes that he has surprised his companion, but he has confidence in what he's doing. This is not the first time he has carried someone like this, and he has never dropped anyone before. Especially not someone who has wrapped himself as tightly around his neck and waist as Thranduil has done. But once he's reached just above the tree tops he stops, hovering there, and lets out a whoop of joy. How could anyone not enjoy a moment like this?

Allow Thranduil to demonstrate.

By now his face is all but buried in Eric's shoulder.

"Take me back down. Now." It's almost a whisper, and he tries to sound commanding even though he knows he's stuck. If Eric doesn't carry him down, he has no choice but to hang on.

Eric laughs joyfully into the artificial sunlight and holds the other tighter. Honestly, Thranduil doesn't have anything to worry about, he's got a good hold on him and he would never let him drop, he doesn't understand what there is to complain about. "Hush," he says, and it is supposed to be comforting, "I've got you. Have you ever smelled air so clean?" Okay, so maybe it's just because they're in the air, but Eric can swear the air up here is even fresher than the already pretty clean and filtered air that they have circulating around them everywhere else. And just because he doesn't need to breathe doesn't mean that he can't smell it.

Oh no. He's turned into Legolas. Thranduil's blood makes vampires start acting like his son. Laughing and teasing and talking about the smell of the air and all that. But Thranduil lifts his chin slightly and takes a deep breath, heart still pounding.

"It is...one reason I choose to live here."

If Eric knew what you were thinking there Thranduil he would object, but he does not, and so he lets it slide. He can feel Thranduil's heart pounding and hear it in his peripherals but honestly, what is there to be afraid of, he's got him safe, and he is the strongest, fastest vampire on board, save for Godric.

"You are of the sun and stars," he says, literally and figuratively as high as a kite. "Of course you would choose to live here, with your plants and your animals and your flute and your...tendency to bathe in streams." He is literally just naming everything he can remember Thranduil doing here in the gardens right now.

Eric isn't looking at Thranduil's face, and though he can almost feel the look that he's giving him even still, he doesn't register it. The gardens are much too exciting to get hung up on this. Gosh, he even threw a compliment in there too, of sorts. What's your deal anyway, Thranduil? Eric just ignores that look and flies higher, taking the pair of them further away from the ground and the area that they took off from.

"You really need to lighten up."

"You have watched me bathe?"

Eric shrugs. "Once or twice," he comments. Hell, he has bathed next to him in the showers, even. It's not like that should be news to Thranduil. What's the big deal?

The big deal is that in the showers after a jump, everyone is naked in the showers together. Actually sneaking in to watch someone bathe privately? That's creepy.

"Why?"

Well, at least Thranduil isn't freaking out about flying anymore. Eric would prefer it if he weren't being interrogated anymore, though. In response to the question, he shrugs slightly. "Seemed like a good idea at the time," he answers honestly. "Why not?" It is a public area, even if it had been a private moment.

Thranduil huffs out a breath as if to say Typical! but makes no further comment. Instead, he finds himself looking outward, anywhere but at Eric, and...well, he's right. It is pretty nice up here. Would be nicer with a sky above them, but for this place, it's as free as they can be. No attachment to anything, surrounded by green on every side, away from anyone who might disturb them.

Slowly, he relaxes in Eric's arms, forgetting to be afraid.

Eric notices Thranduil relaxing, and it pleases him. If he had been intending on scaring the other he would have done so in a much different way, after all. But the idea had been to share in his wonder, and it looks as though finally Thranduil is getting that as well.

"I learned how to fly in a forest, long ago," he says, suddenly, as if the thought just occurred to him and he's letting it go straight from his brain to his mouth. He probably is. "Godric taught me. When I was new."

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