Britta Katerin Vinter watched the blood drip from his mouth; a view she continuously failed to get use to. He was a mess. Eric Northman was the only one who could look vicious and ridiculously funny at the same time. Blood was matted to his long hair after an apparent slaughter yet foil for added highlights separated his golden locks.

Her Maker was a walking contradiction; cruel and gentle. How was something like that even possible?

She stifled a giggle. It wouldn't do for anyone to see her show a delighted expression when she did her best to avoid all kinds of contact.

A prisoner, Lafayette she believed his name was, was dragged into the small room. He was clearly being held captive for selling V; interrogated and tortured. Eric replaced himself on the stool he had previously occupied not ten minutes ago. He was immediately chastised by Pam for his lack of decorum and sloppiness.

If Eric was going for the intimidating approach, he was sorely lacking. Of course it seemed as if Lafayette was terrified so he must have got the job done well while down in the dungeon. Britta rose from the lounge chair in the corner and made her way to the open door. The pleading look in the human's eyes cast in her direction were unnerving. Yes, Pam and herself got away with more than any other living or undead creature around, but not even she could save this man. She failed to hold that kind of power over the intimidating vampire.

When Eric set his mind on something, he succeeded in getting what he craved, and what he coveted was solving the mystery on who was selling V and where a local vampire had disappeared to.

"There she goes. I'm beginning to think she's autistic, Eric. Social settings arn't her thing."

The sound of Pam's bitter voice had her turning around and staring daggers at the women who invaded her existence a century ago. Living for an eternity had always been hard. Pam made it nearly impossible. It felt like a competition that would never end. But the competitive nature over Eric was rediculous.

The difference between herself and Pam was that the other women had asked to live for all eternity and worshipped the ground that Eric walked on. Pam loved being by his side, seeking his approval and trying to be the vampire that he wanted her to be. Over 1,000 years and Eric only had two progenies. It baffled Britta that he had chosen a whore to join them. She would never get use to it.

Britta wasn't even use to Eric. She was a social misfit. Her human life had followed her into the current never ending one that she was cursed to forever endure.

"Let her go, Pam," Eric's lazy draw spoke as his eyes met her own and a red smirk crossed his handsome features. The other women rolled her eyes and went to comb some of the blood from his hair.

Britta turned around without a word and made her way to the empty room at Fangtasia that would soon be filled with other vampires and fangbangers. It made her sick to think of all the deranged individuals who wanted to be bitten and have sex with them. Vampires were new to the community; new to the world. The earth was divided on their desire for the undead. Half thought they were sexy, the other half wanted them staked and gone.

Britta sat on a stool at the bar and nursed a bottle of O negative true blood. The stuff was kind of disgusting but she had been excited to finally have an alternative to survival. She never relished the thought of killing humans. Every time she sank her teeth into a terrified victim, thoughts of her own human life would flash into her mind and it made her remember. Remember the time when Eric had sank his teeth into her neck and stifled the scream that rose from her throat as she tried desperately to push him off.

She shook her head and tried to rid herself of memories she cared to forget. Britta rose the bottle to her lips once again as the screaming of Layfette being dragged back to his prison drifted to her ears.

She closed her green eyes and took a deep breath that she didn't need. Seconds ticked by. The clock read 7:43. The club would open in just a little over an hour as it did every night. She would sit at Eric's feet and be a model progeny on display. It was what she did...would always do.

She was hungry tonight.

Britta opened a second bottle, this time A positive, and took a long swig. The change in blood type was the only variety she would ever have when it came to eating. She smiled to herself. That's what she missed the most...food. The thought of potatoes, roasted animals, bread, and wine had once sounded delicious but now made her gag deep within her throat. How had something so satisfying turned into a vulgar thought that repulsed her.

Britta tensed as her long dark hair was lifted from the nap of her neck and a soft finger trailed lightly across her skin. She cursed herself for being so unaware. Her thoughts always got the best of her, causing her to forget to open her ears to what surrounded her. The stool to her left squeaked as it was pulled out and Eric's long legs stretched out to brush against her bare knee.

"What's seems to be the trouble, Brit?"

"What makes you think somethings troubling me?"

"I know you hate confrontation. I am the authority of Area 5. I am bound by duty to keep the law."

"He doesn't know anything, Eric," she whispered. Britta lifted her gaze to meet his own and was taken aback by what she saw. A smile crept onto her face that she didn't even attempt to hide. "Wow."

"Do you like it?" He lifted his chin and moved his head from side to side for her to scrutinize his new look.

"You do realize it will never grow back."

He sighed audibly. "I do. Is it that awful?"

She shook her head vigorously. "Naw. I like it," she answered with a grin as she took another sip.

"Good. I'd hate for you to be disappointed in my appearance."

The clock continued to click against the wall. 8:34. They stayed silent, neither moving.

"Don't pay any attention to, Pam. You know how she gets when anyone shows emotion."

"Yeah."

Her curt answer had him reluctantly lifting from the stool and walking away from her in a slow gait with his head held low. He always hung his head down, despite his massive presence and tall figure.

"I just don't get it."

He paused mid step and turned his head to the side, still keeping his back to her.

"Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"Why her? Was it so terrible when you just had me?"

Eric was next to her in less than a second, his face inches from her own. "How many times have you asked me to release you?"

She held her tongue.

"How...many?" his fangs dropped and a growl escaped him when she lacked to answer.

"Twenty-eight," she responded honestly.

"And what I have done?"

"Kept me with you against my will."

He clicked his fangs back into place and backed a few steps away.

"That is correct. Because I am selfish and care. I care for you...I care for Pam. That's all you need to know."

He walked away but stopped once more and in a hushed whisper he said, "I've always kept you with me even when you would beg on your knees to let me let you go. Do you remember then, Britta?"

How could she forget? "I remember."

He fully walked away from her this time.

Alone with her thoughts that endlessly invaded her mind. She rose from the stool and went into the bathroom that was installed for human customers. Britta looked in the mirror at her image.

The image of...a girl.

That was all she would ever be. She was forced to live an eternity in a body that would forever be young, would forever be a girl that was no more than two weeks into her sixteenth year.

The endless images flashed before her mind.

Sweden, the seaside, her family and friends, the king,...a human Eric. She was the only one who had known Eric as a human, not including Godric. And the ancient vampire only knew the Viking while he was dying after battle in Scandinavia.

Britta knew who he was, what kind of warrior he had been. What kind of man he had been. She sank to the floor and could feel the blood pour from her eyes. The memories flooded within her as she wiped at her face and looked at the red streaks covered within in her palms.

This was what she was. An immortal monster that should have been dead tens of centuries ago.

1,115 years ago (898 AD)

"I'm sure it won't be so bad, Amma. They're just men," Britta reached out and stroked her friends long blond hair with a shaking hand.

"Exactly. Men are vile and ruthless. They only think about food, fighting for sport, and the bed chamber. How could our fathers agree to such a thing?"

"She is right, Brit," Elina chimed in as she waded her feet in the icy sea water and gaze out across the horizon. The kingdom to which they were endlessly at war with glared back with a vengeance.

Both Kings from the North and South insisted that the only way to put an end to the never ceasing violence was to join the two empires...by marriage. Every girl within the ages of twelve to seventeen from the South was to be wed to a man from the North. At fourteen Britta, Amma, and Elina were ripe for the picking. The King had been lenient and made a rule that if a household contained more than one girl within that age range, that only one had to be put up for the picking.

Amma was an only child and Elina had brothers without any other girl in the family. They had no choice but to be volunteered.

Britta was another story entirely. She was one of eleven children. She had four sisters that could easily be put up instead, but her father chose her without even thinking. She was Marit's problem child. The one who spent too much time day dreaming and anticipating what the future might hold. He meant to punish her for her lack of obedience and bountiful fantasies by delivering her to a man who could focus his harsh discipline on her like he did the battlefield. That was what her father was wishing for. A brutal man to take her off his hands.

She had no mother to turn to for help. Laila died giving birth to her youngest brother four years ago. It seemed like her mother had been invincible. She was always pregnant and immediately snapped back without difficulty. But then Markus had been born breeched.

Laila had bled to death and then she was no more. It still tugged at her heart to think of her sweet mother no longer here to hold her and tell her that the dreams she so often had were what made Britta's personality her own. That no person could ever steal her light.

All she had left was a father with an iron fist and siblings she couldn't relate to. Perhaps that was why she was taking the news slightly better than her fellow companions. They had famililies who cared. Perhaps Britta would be picked by a man with a gentle hand who would welcome her fanciful self into his arms and dream along beside her.

She would never voice her longing to anyone. They would laugh and tell her how ridiculous she was being for thinking that a man could possibly be any kind of friend to her.

King Ulfrick would be arriving shortly with his greatest knights following. There was a rumor surfacing that it was not only current warriors that would be choosing, but Vikings present and past who had graced the battlefield and rose victorious. The thought of an old man taking her as his bride caused her to shudder.

They were to be picked like cattle. Taken to the square in the middle of the day as their home was invaded by the enemy. Just as these thoughts racked her brain, famed longships came into focus as they broke the water's surface in hast to collect what was theirs. Who was theirs.

"Here we go," Elina muttered as she rose from her position and put her slippers back onto her feet.

"Do you think we will ever see our families again?" Amma asked through her subsiding tears.

Elina shrugged and began to trudge back through the path in the woods that they had previously taken. "Serves Mama and Papa right if they never see me again. They didn't even try to put up a fight."

Britta reached up and touched her own tender cheek, wincing in the process. "Do you think they will notice?"

A pair of brown and blue eyes turned a sad gaze in her direction.

"Bruises heal, Brit," Elina said with smile. "Your beautiful and they'll see through the temporary blemish."

Britta hoped that her friend was right. What if her father's fury ruined her chance at a good match? What if a tyrant or old man were the only ones to bother taking her as his wife, the way Marit hoped.

Elina and Amma disappeared from sight as she turned back around to gaze out at the sea. Four ships made their way closer, clenching the gape that had held them apart since the beginning of time. That gape would soon be shut forever.

A wave of panic filled her senses as she turned around and ran to the square where her future, and little did she know, eternity, awaited her.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed what I have written so far. Please follow, review, and let me know what you think. This is a story that I've had in my head for awhile now. I don't plan on killing off Eric's family the way they originally were incase you were wondering on why they were alive.