The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended.The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.
I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own. This Story is rated M.
“A nice day for a walk, do you not think so my bride?”
“A lovely day,” Sookie replied as she admired the old growth forest and the lovely walkway paved with what looked like gold. “Seriously,” she said to O.I., “is this gold?”
“Yes, my queen,” he replied as he fluttered beside her.
“You ever have someone in a hot air balloon land here?” she asked.
“Oh, good one, my queen,” O.I. chuckled. “King Er-erikr has an extensive library. He read The Wizard of Oz. I was so taken with the Cowardly Lion and how he found his courage, I read the book as well. We both agreed it was good for a chuckle to have our own yellow brick road.”
“I am glad,” Sookie reached out and stroked the small dragon on the face, “he has had you to stand by his side. How lonely his life must be without his family.”
“Thank you my queen,” O.I. smiled at her. “It is a pleasure to see my king reunited with his family. Somethin’ I never did think I would be alive to witness. I am grateful for that. In your debt, I am. Forever…and let me just say, my queen, that is a mighty long time.”
“Has it been that bad for him?” she asked.
O.I. said nothing for several moments. “He has, his emotional outlets,” the small dragon nodded. “Reading is one of them. He celebrates and cries from time-to-time with the characters.”
“Oh,” Sookie said, looking thoughtful. “So a new best seller just might be the thing to gift him with.”
“Yes my queen,” O.I. smiled at her. “That would be perfect. And,” the dragon leaned in closer, “he likes those historical romance novels.”
“What?” she laughed.
“Do nots be tellin’ him I tolds you. But he does. A guilty pleasure, he calls it.”
“Well, I like them also and I will keep that in mind,” she smiled.
“What?” Sookie nudged Eric in the ribs when she saw him smirking.
“The romance novels,” he chuckled. “Actually, I read them also.”
“What?” she eyed him.
“I do,” he smiled. “A very guilty pleasure.”
“Godmother’s abode, dead ahead,” came the call from the front and was passed through the ranks.
“Oh, potty mouth fun,” Eric’s grin got bigger. “Here we go.”
Eric walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
The doors were opened and there were women lining the steps that took you to an upper level.
“I am Campner, the oldest of the godmothers,” the woman dressed only in a blue chemise and frock eyed Eric and spit at him.
“Where are the rest of your clothes?” Eric asked.
“My proxy king,” she smiled sweetly, “if I go to my death, I am not wasting a gown.”
“Good point,” he nodded. “Now where is your ledger?”
“What?” she took a step back.
“The roll book, the register, the journal, the account book of who lives in the house.”
“What?” her voice was no longer as smug.
“Good call about the dress,” he said as he pulled his sword and cut off her head.
There were screams and gasps all up and down the stairs as women drew back.
“And you are?” Eric asked as he motioned the next one in line forward.
“Bulleryn,” her voice held a bit of a quiver.
“Yes,” he nodded. “And your ledger is where?”
“It is kept in the meeting room,” she mumbled.
“Send someone to go and get it.”
“Bowler,” she turned and motioned to the next woman in line. “Go and fetch The Reckoning so that the king may see who abides in our home.”
There were uneasy eyes and shifting of feet until Bowler returned with the tome.
“How many abide here?” Eric asked.
“Well…” Bulleryn began.
“No,” Eric shook his head. “All living godmothers should be registered in the book and all godmothers, legally, are to abide here. I understand you can petition the king,” he smiled, “who can grant a dispensation, to live elsewhere.”
“Say nothing,” a voice from the top of the stairs held venom.
Eric looked at Bulleryn who began to weep. Righting her shoulders, she shook her head. “I am sorry my king…” she began…and her head went flying off.
“The House of Gettingsly ends this day,” Eric said looking out onto the group of women. “The King’s Own,” Eric’s voice carried the threat. “Weapons at the ready.”
Throughout the foyer was the sound of steel on steel as swords were drawn.
“Now Pearl,” Eric began in a conversational tone, “I will come up there and get you.” Eric shook his head, his face showing his displeasure as he looked up the stairs, his eyes focused on one woman. “I was there at the Unholy Wars. I know who did and did not die that day. You can send someone else down in your stead and they shall die and the process will keep repeating until only you are left standing. Then I shall end you and you can explain your lying self to The Light.
Seriously,” Eric was shaking his head as he made eye contact with the women, “this is your Chancellor? Have you removed yourself so far from your codex that you no longer remember your form and function? That you would let this being send you to your death because she says she is more worthy of living than you?”
“Fairly,” the silver headed woman dressed in a long flowing robe and what appeared to be a small ringlet of a crown perched on her head. “Show the proxy king The Reckoning.”
A table was brought out and the book placed on it. “As I said, I know who died that day on the battlefield.” Eric opened it to the first page and with his pen, began marking through names. “I have,” he looked into the foyer, “removed those that have died. To include those that met The Light, today. Now, I shall begin roll call.”
When Eric was finished he closed the book and looked at the Chancellor. “You are down fifty percent. Where is the other half of your clan?”
“Some met with accidents, others left the home world and have not returned. I cannot account for all of them,” she made a shewing motion several times with her hand.
“Oh,” Eric nodded. “I see. And the king was notified about the accidents and the others who portaled out of fae without permission of the king.”
He was met with a glare that spoke of hatred and harm!
“Oh,” he nodded again, “the king was not notified. How many, Chancellor, did you kill personally?”
Eric could see it in her eyes. All of them, I killed all of themsaid the smirk, and just what did he think he was he going to do about it? There is no proof!
“Douse with coffee,” Eric said. “Begin in the living areas. This will break the spells and we shall witness just what foul play has lived out its life, here.”
From the ranks, there came guards carrying a large containers with a hose and a sprayer, attached. Into the building they went and the smell of coffee came wafting out.
“Good call, my bride about the two gallon portable sprayers.”
“Good for killin’ weeds and for ferrettin’ out the truth,” she said as a chair was brought up for her.
“Main floor is done my king,” was called from inside. “You may now enter. Just watch out for spilled blood and gasping bodies. Apparently on one occasion, to celebrate a birthday, rivals were dispatched and they were left for days to die in place.
My Queen, this is not a place for you.”
“I shall abide in my chair,” was all Sookie said as she watched Eric set his shoulders and walk in.
There, frozen in time, were bodies on the floor, the deathblow leaving their brains and blood next to them.
“Bring the book,” Eric said. “And let us put names to these bodies.”
The shadows were growing long on the floor. There was weeping from several women as they relived the day when their friend greeted The Light.
“As Chancellor of this house,” Eric regarded the petty tyrant, “you are responsible for these deaths. If you felled the blow or not, it does not matter.
What is the quota, your majesty,” he addressed O.I. as he drug the offender out of the building. “To administer The Living Death?”
“Thirty percent,” O.I.’s voice carried the death ring and the sound of justice. “You remove thirty percent of your clan, you are gifted with The Living Death. She has killed fifty percent. Half my king,” O.I. sadly shook his head. “I wish I had something far greater to bestow upon her. But alas, this is the worst we can do.”
“So be it,” Eric nodded.
“No wait…!” Pearl screeched. “The king decides this.”
“The king just did,” Eric responded. “Net her and let us be gone from this awful house.”
She was wrapped in a net woven with truth and life as her screaming continued as she was then tossed into a small cart and was being pulled away.
“You need a new Chancellor,” Eric said to the shocked filled, empty eyes that were looking back at him. “Decide wisely. Then write up new by-laws and bring your paperwork when you stop by to schedule your time before the king. If all appears to be in good order, a docket date will be given to you. If your shit stinks, then it will be kicked back to you and you will be told to start over. There have been and always will be protocols in place for this. Follow them and all should be well,” he said with a bow. Righting himself he turned to his guards.
“The King’s Own,” he shouted, “fall in.”
“You get to the basement? Anything in the library?” Sookie asked as they held hands and walked.
“No. I am content to let that abide for now. Fairly is going to be useful when we come back around. She is working in the stacks down below and trying to bring order from chaos. We shall let her do this.”
“Excellent,” Sookie nodded. “Oh look,” she pointed skyward, “there goes someone on a broom off to spread the word. The Proxy King is on the move! And he is kickin’ ass and literally takin’ names.”
There was much to do about everything in the land of the fae. Word carried on the wind, out of mouths of babes and into the land. The Proxy King was on the march and thought nothing of removing your head, be you chancellor or caretaker.
“The Living Death,” was whispered along the trails, roads and skyways. “Pearl is on her way to The Living Death,” they all shuddered. “Wrapped in a net and put in a wagon used to carry harpy shit to the Fields of Liars. The king pronounced sentence not for the death of the moortufels, but for those for her house that she removed. The Proxy King has brought something that unmasks the spells and reveals the truths,” was scattered about as fast as one could go with the news.
“He knows about the name journal, to the house,” others sobbed. “He knows who abides and who does not. He calls the list of names and demands to know where are those that are missing! In the godmothers’ house, plenty are missing!” as eyes nodded and whispers confirmed what everyone thought they knew. “Not off world,” they would cup their hand and whisper into an ear, “but to The Light!”
One or two marched along with Pearl until they realized that there was no entertainment to be had by doing so. That there would be only the smell that would cling to them announcing where they had been.
“Pearl is going to abide The Living Death,” was said in horror from house to house. “One of many yet to come,” was sobbed as family members looked at their locked doors and their family head standing guard with their sword and longbow, shouting, “He shall not enter here! Never! The Proxy King, he shall not enter!”
“We are all dead,” was heard in such homes as windows were opened and many were prepared to jump and run to the safety of their king, for their master had a case of the harpy shit crazies!
This was true of the Lord of the Blue Trees, Gilmore the Grand. An old and noble house who had become more standoffish in the most recent past ages. Only the master ventured forth to visit and wander the countryside.
He was standing at his outer gate, a canon pointed out to mow down the enemy if he could not remove them with his words and wards.
“We are all doomed,” his wife, Lady Gilmore was shaking her head as she changed into her death shroud and went out to die with her husband.
As she passed through the main hall, here sat the proof of their wrong doing. Looking around, those that were not of their house were slumped against a far back wall. Afraid to be seen, afraid of the light, afraid to be taken from the madness that kept them here. Afraid they would not get their next fix.
For here, behind these walls, The Lord of the Blue Trees grew the plant gypsum, from which came the highly illegal substance that made gyp-juice! Why, you could become so addicted that you were that clan head’s slave!
And indeed they were. They tended the poison that owned them, and labored for those that owned the plants.
“Gilmore,” Eric shouted, “open up. By order of the king!”
“Not my king,” he shouted through the portal that opened in the gate. “My king reads poetry and watches the sun rise and does not disturb me and my family.”
“Oh, but Gilmore, I have here, in my hand, how you have demanded that the king remarry and that you demanded a proxy king to stand in his place. Then with a flourish and it says here, suck my dick, and you signed your name. Are you Lord of the Blue Trees, Gilmore the Grand?”
“You Halfling harpy shit turd,” he bellowed, “you know I am. That is why you stand at my gate, making demands and pretending to be the Proxy King.”
“I am not a pretender,” Eric laughed.
“Guards,” Eric smiled, “stand back. The door is coming down.”
Raising his hands, the blue lightning leapt from Eric to the metal hinges in the massive doors that blew inwards, knocking Gilmore off his feet, his head into a stone buttress and his brains all over the yard.
“We are searching for wrong doing in the death of the moortufels,” Eric said as he entered through the now shattered doors. “Prepare to be searched.”
The guards moved in and looked about at the damage and where to begin. Of all that was unholy, Gilmore raised a poison to control the fae!
“My king,” Ranger, his captain got up from the ground as they searched through the rubble. “Be careful as you go. They have been raising gypsum. The doors have destroyed their garden.”
“Yes, my king,” he nodded. “It enslaves you. As clean as these walls are, I would say there are probably some slaves living inside the residence. No one cleans their walls.”
“Addicts?” Eric asked as they entered the hall.
“Yes,” he nodded toward those in the back.
“What is it called?”
“Gyp-juice,” Ranger answered him.
“Any hope for them?”
“None that we know of,” his captain replied.
“Spray them down,” he motioned to those with the canisters of coffee. “And have them drink some as well. If they show any improvement, dose them with it.
Now,” Eric shook off the misery he saw in their eyes…and the wanting of their next fix. “Let us go through their garden carefully, they might have had moorteufels engaged here as well.”
“It has been a day,” Eric said as when he came out and sat down next to Sookie who was sitting under a beautiful small white tent with dragons woven into the material.
“Nice,” he smiled as she scooted over on her tufted blue velvet wing back chair and patted the space next to her.
“Want to put your feet up?” she asked. “I will gladly allow room for you on this very charming and oh so comfy foot stool.”
“You are having a snack,” Eric observed.
“Yes,” she smiled. “The baby and I, we think this is delicious. It is some type of broth with vegetables as the base and this bread and honeycomb,” she rolled her eyes, “every day should be like this.”
Eric looked over at O.I. who just wiggled his eyebrows.
“The king of the dragons does good work,’ Eric bowed to him.
“Thank you my king,” O.I. bowed in return. “My queen and our heir deserves only the best.”
“What a fucking day,” he sighed. “We found the plant gypsum, inside. Along with the addicts. The coffee seems to help. I could not conceive of there being druggies, here.”
O.I. nodded. “The druggies, the squatters and the shitters on life. I suspect you have seen all of them today.”
“Mo’ fo’n,” Eric took Sookie’s hand and kissed it. “I am ready to head back to the castle.
“Of course my king,” O.I. rose from around Sookie’s neck. “Break camp,” he said as dragons came fluttering in from everywhere.
What a treat today had been as dragons from everywhere had come to be in attendance! It was not everyday the king of the dragons sat and told stories! And today, their O.I. had told stories that reached back to the beginning of time. Always with the dragons as the heroes and the evil ones spitting and toasting in the honest rays of the sun and the flames of their fires! Today was a day to be remembered!
As they walked back to the house Eric recounted the dealings with the last house. “Seriously my bride, what possess them into such a mind set?”
“Well,” Sookie shrugged, “you count on somethin’ and then things don’t work out for you and you get pissed off. For instance, Sam promised me a day off. I made plans. Big plans for me. I was goin’ to Shreveport to the thrift store and shop. I needed new shorts. Then I was stopping at Target, not evenWal-Mart, and buying me some new-new under wear.
So he calls me as I am stepping out the door. Need you to come in. Arlene is home sick with the kids.
I had worked forty days straight without any time off. I was pissed off for days the next week or two and I let him know it. Slamming this and that in the kitchen around and throwing salt and pepper shakers at him and just cussin’ in general, but no so any customers could hear me. Just Sam.
And I know that is not a very big thing in the over all scheme of things, but it was to me. I had saved my tip money and I was gonna have lunch and dinner out and everythin’. I was gonna’ end up seein’ a first run movie to end my day of fun to include splurging on popcorn and a soda.
So if that lord thought he was gonna’ get to be the proxy king, and it kinda sounded like maybe he wanted the job, so he could run drugs, well you ended his fun. And he was pissed. After all,” she laughed out loud at the look on Eric’s face, “you are just a Halfling.”
“You worked forty days without any time off?” Eric seethed. “I am going to kill that shifter, just as soon as I kill everyone in the land of fae.”
Sookie was laughing at him as they walked along, holding hands and admiring the flowers.
Eric stopped and turned, facing in another direction.
“O.I., how far are we from the castle?”
“Just at a half mile my king. Do you see the blue trees, there behind us. They are the marker. The king’s residence runs up to the blue trees. We are just inside the marker, so we now stand upon your property.”
“Half-mile,” Eric pondered that and then turned. “I hear music. Is that coming from the castle?”
“No my king, the castle is dead ahead. We are following the golden path home. That is coming from,” he tasted the wind, “from about a league as the dragon flies. Not far. Just through the trees and past the creek.”
“If this is my land,” Eric arched an eyebrow at what he now suspected to be one of the tiniest co-conspirators ever known, “whom would that be playing music?”
“Oh,” the dragon looked confused, his eyes round and full of questions. “My king, that would be forbidden, let us go and find out.”
“My ass,” Eric mumbled as they began their journey away from the castle and onto what sounded like a very good time being had by all.
As they crossed over the creek and walked up a small rise, there stood a magnificent white tent, banners fluttering in the breeze, tables under the canopy, and men eating and drinking while a small orchestra played.
“Oddly,” Eric observed, “those appear to be the men of the Courting King,” his eyes were mere slits.
“Well,” O.I. smiled. “So it does. I smells food and drink, my king, let us go and see if they will offer us some hospitality.”
“Oh,” Eric glared at the dragon, “I have the feeling they will.”
“Welcome!” was called out as they approached. “My son, my daughter, any and all that fall under their banners, welcome!”
“Father,” Eric gave him a very short smile and then a very long frown. “I thought you would have called on your first perspective bride by now.”
“What? Really? My son,” he smiled, “you make a joke. I cannot possibly go courting without first learning to dance. And I am an age and a bit and a thousand years behind on the dancing. I am learning the oldest ones first so that we might build towards the newest. I could not possibly go calling without first knowing how to dance. I mean, the ladies, I am told, first judge you by your dancing skills because that might translate over into the bedroom skills.”
“So you got this far, what not even half a mile, and you have been here all day, learning to dance? While I have been out dealing with the realm,” Eric thought maybe steam was coming out of his nose.
“That is correct,” he smiled at him. “And now it is time to break the evening fast. Please, won’t you join us? The last of the sun is about to go to its rest. As we shall ourselves. But first, a meal.”
“Dinner sounds lovely,” he eyed his father and those that were apparently in the kitchen part of the tent. “Did you bring the entire kitchen staff?” he asked.
“Not all, my son. My lovely daughter and my grandson must eat.”
“Oh, well yes,” Eric nodded as he continued to admire the tent. “And by the way, you are down two heads of house holds. Nothing on the moortufels yet, but there is plenty of in-fighting and killing that goes on when the crown is not around and apparently they raise plants that produce illegal substances.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Dreadful business. I am so glad you are seeing to this. I must say, this courting ritual of being king is most delightful.”
“I can see where it would be,” as Eric watched the jugglers on the backs of large eagles go swooping by and then do a loop-de-loop out of the tent and up into the falling sky of evening.
From the back tables came much yelling of good cheer and much sobbing of bad luck.
“Game of dice,” Er-erikr smiled. “I won big this afternoon to include a dragon’s horde of fool’s gold. I did so well against everyone, they banished me from the game. Said I must learn to dance. And so I am,” he said with pride. “My new wife will be schooled in all the latest steps so that we might thrill the crowd on our wedding day.”
“Have you also been drinking?” Eric asked, chagrin on his face.
“Before I left, the great and good king of the dragons, O.I., his royal bad ass self, did so gift me with a very small but very righteous keg of The Death From Above. I am indeed blessed,” he sighed, then burped, farted and scratched his ass. “So blessed. I have been sharing it with my men-at-arms.”
Eric nodded. “So I have been out rousting the wrong doing in the kingdom while you have been, I believe the expression on earth is partying?”
“Same expression here, my king,” O.I. nodded. “Very same. Partying. Yes. Get your party on! Let’s party ! Parrrrr—–teeeeeee!”
“Thank you, O.I.,” Eric glared at him.
“Of course, my king,” the small dragon bowed and wrapped himself back around Sookie’s neck.
“My son,” his dad smiled at him. “I am so glad you are here. Rob-roy, our bard, is present for my walk about so that he might record in song and verse my courting debacle,” Er-erikr chuckled. “My newest queen deserves to have her name and favors recorded in our history.
But the same must now be said of the woman who carries the Sookiehawk heir. The Queen that stands beside the Proxy King. What say you Rob-roy?”
“Of course, our Courting King,” the tall, thin, man with the auburn hair and the same color flashing eyes said as he downed his drink and then set his drinking horn down, picked up his mandolin and stepped forward. “It will be my pleasure to record into our history how our Proxy King set our world to right while the Courting King must be out seeking a new mate.
My Queen, I shall rhyme your name into our verse and universe,” he smiled at Sookie and offered a grand and sweeping bow. “My queen,” he smiled, “if I might be so bold as to ask you of your name?”
“Sookie,” she replied as her father offered her a chair.
The tent, itself, took a breath. You could see the material in the sides move as there was the inhale and then the exhale. The sun hesitated on the horizon, causing the last rays of light to fall on Sookie and light her up like the first star of a starved summer’s night before all fell into darkness and silence filled the crevices.
“Sookie,” Rob-roy repeated back as all the guards in the tent came to attention.
“That is correct. Sookie Sookiehawk. And yes,” she smiled as she held up her hands and balls of blue blame danced there. “Somewhere in my blood line lurks a dragon.”
“The King’s Own,” was bellowed as all the guards in the tent came to attention and slammed their right first into the left side of their chest. “Those is fae bend knee to our queen,” was roared as everyone in the tent fell to theirs.
“Sookie the First,” was whispered on the breeze.
“Our queen, she does return to us,” Rob-roy said, his face still cast downward. “To purge us of our wrong doing and to set right those things that we have fouled. Forgive me for my impertinence, my queen,” he said quietly. “The Proxy King does well to clean your home of all offensive doing before your feet walk here again. I apologize on behalf of the realm for our misguided ways and for not correcting our own faults. To call you from your slumber while we did not hold your words in sway shows how base and degenerate we have become. How little you must think of us.”
Sookie glanced at her father-in-law. She had wondered when this would come about. Apparently now was the time. “I know your history of this brave and fearless woman. That the dragon king was so enamored of her, he switched sides and together they defeated her foes. That I am one of her descendants,” she shrugged elegantly, “perhaps. But the blue moons must rise on her return and the two become one in their passing. So until them, I am a Halfling that is the Proxy King’s wife.
Now,” she said looking around the tent. “You cannot have your dinner in that position. Please rise,” Sookie said as Ranger stood and all others followed his example. “I could use some dinner.”
“Of course,” Rob-roy stood and hurried back to the kitchen area.
Eric looked over at his father. “Nicely played.”
“Timing really is everything,” was all Er-erikr said as pots were uncovered and placed on tables and plates were sat out. “I don’t think they have poisoned anything, but we will run it past the blue fire, just to prove we are no one’s fool.
My daughter,” he smiled at Sookie, “I will be most pleased to fix you a plate. You just continue on with your feet up and I shall return post haste.”
During the meal, one or two from the kitchen that were not needed slipped away to carry the news. “Queen Sookie has returned,” they whispered as they went from door-to door.
“Pshaw,” many said, “what is in a name that a Halfling carries?” they mocked. “There is no sign that she has returned.”
After the meal, Sookie thanked the cooks, kissed her father goodnight and hand-in-hand she and Eric made their way back to the castle.
“Fall out,” Ranger bellowed when the king and queen stepped through the door.
“Let’s sit out on the roof for a while,” Sookie sighed as she admired the views from the windows as they climbed the stairs. “The night sky is so different from home and yet so beautiful.
This is nice,” Sookie sighed when they reached the top. Eric sat and she snuggled in on top of him. “Look at those colors of the stars. That one is actually purple! They look close enough that I could just reach out and touch them.
“Oh,” she smiled. “Look at that blue glow on the horizon. And look, there is another one to the right of it.”
“The two famous blue moons of fae,” Eric smiled. “Father would talk about them when I was small and at times I longed to see them.
When mother died, I no longer cared.
Now, here I am with my wife and unborn son, looking at them cresting above the horizon.”
“They really are blue,” Sookie said in delight as they cleared the mountain.
“Yes,” Eric smiled.
“The same color,” Sookie looked into his eyes and then back at the moons, then her concentration was back on Eric’s face. “The same color blue as your eyes.”
“That is what father said,” his voice was distant.
“What?” Sookie put her hands on his face and lightly kissed him.
“I hate being tied to this place. Having any type of…of…reckoning with it at all. That I must make it account for the evil it has done to my family.”
“But you are strong enough to right those wrongs…” she looked deep into his eyes. “There are some addicts right now that are probably grateful and are having screaming fits because of you. And you will find justice for the moorteufels.
You know Eric, these are the things you do as the Sheriff of Area Five. Same things, only on a different plane of existence. You right wrongs, make hard decisions. Hold others accountable for their very bad choices.”
“I am going to grump about that but you are right, my bride. This is no different.”
“Good,” she smiled at him and wiggled in that much closer to him. “Now, should we have sex under these blue moons,” she ruffled his hair and winked at him. “I think while in fae, that would be the fae thing to do.”
Eric laughed. “Yes,” he tilted his hips and pulled down the front of his pants. “My bride,” his voice sounded shocked when he lifted her skirt, “you are not wearing any panties.”
“Nice of you to notice,” she sighed when he slid her down onto his throbbing penis and she ground into him. “Someplace, there is a bed chamber,” he thrust his hips forward as she wrapped her legs around him. “But so far I am likin’ this just…ohhhhhh….fine…..
Mmmm,” was all she could manage as she felt herself tighten around him. Moaning, she felt her nipples tighten. “I need to be suckled,” she gasped as Eric placed his forehead on hers. “Now,” she was thrusting against him. “Please Eric,” she was massaging her breasts. “Now, I need this now!”
Ripping off her clothes, his pants dropped to the floor and she pulled off his shirt. Eric was floating on his back with Sookie riding him, her legs dangling in the air.
Pulling her down to him, he latched onto her left breast and suckled her, while his right hand massaged her right nipple. “There it is,” he began to drink, “the sweetness of your motherhood,” he groaned as he tasted her. “Mmmm,” he sighed when he switched to her other breast. “Both are full, waiting to suckle my son. Mmmm,” he moaned a bit louder, “I shall prepare them for his arrival. Her moans became more frantic as he pulled both nipples into his mouth.
Her panting gave way to screaming and when she came she felt the milk gush from her breasts and into his mouth and fluids gush from her vagina, leaking onto Eric and down her thighs.
“Excellent,” he sighed as she collapsed on top of him, his finger lightly tracing her areola.
“I like this new part of you,” he said kissing her ear and nibbling there. “And when I move my finger to your nipple, and lightly squeeze, it immediately stands at attention.”
“Gawwwwd, Eric,” she was moaning, again. “That…that goes straight to my uterus and all girly parts in between. It makes my breasts ache and feel so heavy and…and…please don’t stop teasing my nipple. I am going to come!” When she shuddered, he latched on and within seconds, she shuddered, again.
That dark was spent with them on the rooftop as Sookie flowed from one orgasm to another, her breasts leaking milk while Eric joyously suckled her and she rode him in wild thrashing movements. The two lovers were wrapped in each other and paid no attention to the two moons that had reached their zenith. And instead of continuing their downward treks, they stayed as one in the night sky.
This phenomenon, which was said to herald the return of their Queen Sookie, was not lost on the locals that were all out watching the night sky.
“The two moons shine as one,” was said with awe as eyes turned toward the castle.
Ever since their queen had told the bard her name, there were extra guards out on the perimeter.
Now, the two blue moons were as one!
It was beginning! The guards could see their eyes out in the trees. Coming as close as they dared but no closer. When the sun rose, there would be a line to gain entrance.
Ranger walked over to where the Courting King was out watching the sky.
“My king,” he began. “Did…did you know she was the one?”
“Captain of my guards and trusted confident, I did not. But then, this was not my quest. Bringing home our Queen Sookie, I always knew this was the job for my son. I could not do this, but he would know her. Just like he has known her in the past. Just like he will know her in the future.
How was it on the hunt today? I have heard stories,” Er-erikr grinned. “A Living Death and brains scattered in the courtyard amongst the gypsum plants.”
“He is just like his father,” Ranger smiled. “You have every reason to be proud of him. He has righted old wrongs and proved that his justice is stronger than their evil. It was most impressive to watch him, my king. He is indeed his father’s son.
You will hear stories about his evening activities as well. Just let me be the one to start them. The blue moons joined when they joined. There was no mistaking the pleasure screams from both of them as the moons stopped their treks and joined as well.”
“That’s my boy,” Er-erikr slapped him on the back. “I will remained camped here until the uproar dies down. Who knows,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “the ladies now just might come to me.”
“How is this possible?” the Witch of Whatneverwas, she called herself, moaned as she looked at the night sky. “Two blue moons and now only one! What has happened? How can this be good? This was the perfect plan! Perfect!” she screamed. “That one moon tells me it has all gone to harpy shit!”
There hanging on the last of the stars, was a round, beautiful blue orb, reflecting back the morning sun that was pushing its way up on the horizon. “This is not supposed to be possible! Two moons go up, two moons come down! Not one…not just one fucking blue moon!
I am so fucked! So fucked,” she cried. “The Proxy King will curse me with The Living Death,” she sobbed.
“Well,” she sniffled as she dried her eyes with the back of hands. “Perhaps not if I am his new mother. Well yes,” she nodded, “I could be his new mother. After all, the Courting King needs a wife. And I will please him so much that he will never want to let me go. Yes, a good plan,” she nodded to herself. “I can and will suck his dick. I even pleased Godric and his dick had been sucked time-out-of-mind! And I caressed it very well with my tongue and teeth and worked it with my hands. But it was the sucking that got Godric off!
I can do the same tricks on the Courting King. Then, after I am his queen and his son and his whore have gone back to earth, I will give him an heir. Then, perhaps he will slip on a slime beast and go rolling into a bed of gypsum plants where his blood will be so infected with the poison, it will kill him outright! Yes, a good plan, a noble plan, a plan,” she smiled, “that will work!”