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Here at OBS we all love to read! What happens when one of our favorite series ends? Many of us look to Fan Fiction to get our reading fill. But what if you have never read any Fan Fiction before, or you’re just not sure if you want to because the actual author did not write the material? That’s where we come in, OBS is here to bring you some of the best Fan Fiction out there. We guaranty that you will enjoy it
Fan Fiction Highlight: The Viking and the Virgin Queen
Author: hearttorn
Description: (A Sookie Stackhouse Fan Fiction)
Eric in the Elizabethan Age. What vampire could resist royal virgin blood? The question is, could Elizabeth I resist Eric’s charms?
Chapters: 1
Rating:M
Short Preview:
A/N: this is totally out of canon, although I tried to keep Eric pretty much to character. He is slightly different, in terms of dialogue, as he is in a different time and culture–Elizabethan England. Elizabeth I is my favorite monarch, and when I thinking of her, immediately the idea for this story came to me. What vampire could resist a virgin–a virgin queen no less? Although this is totally fictional, I portrayed the situation in England as historically as I possible –but as far as I know, I invented Prince Sven, Olaf and Josef. I will state, for the record, that I personally believe that Elizabeth I truly was a virgin until her death–most likely because she never met a certain Viking vampire. LOL Elizabethan ruff sized thanks to my beta vikingloverelle for taking on this beast!
May 1559, London
It was a good time to be in England. The Catholic Queen Mary I, was dead. With her, Spanish power over England–through her marriage to the Spanish king Phillip II–was broken. Protestants were returning home from exile, no longer forced to practice their religion in secret. The new Queen was a Protestant girl of 25, rumored to be extremely intelligent and adept at politics, despite her age and relative inexperience at swimming in the shark-infested political waters that made up the Tudor Court.
I had been wandering through Europe for some 200 years. I had made my way through Helsinki, Warsaw, Budapest, Berlin, Prague, and finally through France to Calais. I had even wandered down to Italy and Greece, marveling at the black waters at night. But, with the news of Elizabeth’s accession, England was rumored to be the new center of learning, experiencing a renaissance. Having resided for several years in many relatively uneducated societies, I was ready for one that embraced and lauded learning.
I was past my 500th year as vampire at that time, and had reached the age where I felt my undead life was beginning to grow stagnant. I knew many languages and had adapted into many cultures, some very different from my own, but I was tired of hiding among peasants for my meals, staying in the shadows. The filth of most of Europe disgusted me–the Vikings were an extremely clean people, but at that time, most Europeans only bathed once a week. There was no system to cope with sewage and rubbish, and the strong odors everywhere assaulted my powerful sense of smell.
I had heard of the struggles in England, the descendants of Henry VIII fighting amongst themselves over power, position and religion. I myself had long given up my gods of old, and no longer embraced any one faith. Having been exposed to so many cultures, I could tell you that truly, no one was better than another. But I had learned that men would forever fight for their gods, no matter a golden idol or in stained glass.
The boy king Edward VI, a devout Protestant, died young of a chest ailment, barely on the throne of his father. His much older half-sister Mary acceded to rule, and tried to return England to the old faith by force. Burnings, hangings, beheadings were the death of the day in Mary’s England. Superstitious and clinging to her mother Catherine of Aragon’s teachings of faith, she feared the unknown and the different.
But Elizabeth…she was unusual. Having been given the advanced education usually reserved for males, she spoke many languages–though she had never left her native land. Disowned by her father, hated by her half-sister Mary and shoved aside in the line of succession by her younger half-brother Edward, she grew up wily and shrewd. When Mary imprisoned her for allegedly being involved in a plot to take the throne, she single-handedly argued against Mary’s most seasoned interrogators and gave them nothing–not one scrap of solid evidence against her. She plead her case personally to the Queen, successfully arguing her innocence and winning her freedom. Having faced death a time or two myself, and being talented in verbal sparring as well as with sword, I could respect that. I admired a feisty woman, too.
In the port of Calais, I booked a passage to Dover immediately. I posed as a brother in mourning, taking a fictitious, slain sibling home in his coffin to rest. I was fairly adept at passing as human by that time, decent with imitating accents and, if well fed, able to appear positively rosy. I rested in my coffin during the days-long journey, a benefit of my age being that I did not need to feed as often. I was able to convince the rest of the passengers and the crew that I wished to be left in my room to mourn. Each night, I slipped from my coffin and threw the untouched meals left outside my cabin overboard.
Upon arrival in England, I immediately obtained a marvelous black horse from a drunken nobleman. As he staggered out of a pub late that night, I snatched and drained him, hungry from the long journey. I took little time to hide the body, but emptied his pockets and then rode off in the darkness on my new steed.
It took several weeks to make my way to London. I immediately took to the place. Even at night, the air in the city was alive with change. It was the perfect blend of new and old – new plays were being written and performed each night, yet the Gothic architecture of Westminster Abbey soothed my old eyes. This was a building built in my time, and I decided I would rest there during the days. It had many crypts and coves that were long lost, even at that time, any of them perfect for a traveling vampire.
I found a tailor and commissioned new clothes, in the latest styles, to fit my tall frame. I had a master plan, and I would need to blend in as much as possible for it to succeed. I ordered the best fabrics, the most opulent trimmings–pearl buttons and lace–to appear as a nobleman. I went to a blacksmith and ordered the best saddle for my horse, with the most elaborate tooling on the leather. Finally, I was ready.
Read the rest of this Fan Fiction HERE
So what are you waiting for, get to reading the rest of this. And then head over to the forum and discuss it with us! But please note that this Fan Fiction is rated M for Mature, I do not suggest anyone under 18 to read this!
