▶ The Nattvaktare ▶
▶ Nattmörderskan Nordsagan @Blodkatt // Word Count: 946 // Drabble #1 ▶
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The stench of wet fur reached Natt’s nose before she heard him. He was a skinny, small wolf—just a pup. The hybrid lay on Eric’s throne, keeping it warm, half-asleep. Natt opened one eye—her right—narrowing it to a slit as her gaze fell on the werewolf. She hated werewolves just as much as her Maker, Master, and Father, Eric Northman, did. The whole hatred seemed to be there before she even met him. Long before the “turning,” before she had become the Nattvaktare. She had been nothing but a young adult cat when her family got into a fight with a wolf pack.
This pack was not the pack of Russell Edgington nor the pack in her new home, but leaner, white, and purely meant for the snow and the cold. She had been out hunting on her own when the attack happened; luckily, the pack had left her family wounded and one dead. But they weren’t 100% done. Never. The pack would come again.
She hunted mice and a rabbit, heading back home when she was struck with a rock. A human had targeted her, and more rocks came flying. She tried to dodge, but on one look back, she found herself in the arms of one of the attackers. They threw her to another and then another until they had her on the ground and were beating her. Rocks, sticks, anything they could grab. She felt her body breaking; her breathing became shallow, blood pooled out of her mouth, and her eyes swam and closed. She grew unconscious from the loss of blood.
It didn’t last long, as she awoke slightly, hearing the sound of screaming, cursing, and hands that touched her, but it didn’t quite register in her mind. At least not yet. Eric Northman had seen the attack and had stepped in, saving her, at least he had hoped.
For weeks, she lay on his bed in furs, being medically treated and fed broth through a straw. She eventually got stronger, healed better, and once able to move and walk, she began to track, hunt, and guard the boy who had saved her life.
She became his shadow, his comforter, and the only one who didn’t judge him. That was until the tragic night separated them for centuries.
One name, now spat out with a venomous hiss. Russell Edgington. The Vampire King, who took everything from him and had taken her. He had kept her as his trophy, forcing her to obey him, be paraded around, and be fussed over by his progeny, and when 2008 came around, she was nearly dead again. Her life was slowly fading until he came back again.
This time, he had found her in a cage, near death. She lay there as he came over, took her out, and, piercing his skin, fed her his blood and snapped her neck, killing her. He took her with him, and she rose, becoming his Blodkatt, a vampire-cat hybrid. She stayed with him through the rest of the centuries, even when they made the bar. Now? She was a guard at the place at night and during the day.
Natt took her job seriously, and the pup before her needed to understand that he had stepped into her domain. She rose from her spot on the throne and, quickly, with black ink, was standing before him. She kept her eyes narrowed, asking the pup why he was here. He had told her that he was lost, abandoned by his pack, and he had been walking when he came across the bar.
She sighed, letting a long stream of air out of her lungs. Fine, you can stay here until nightfall, and I’ll ask the sheriff what to do with you. However, if you—she emphasized the “you”—she would lock him up in the dungeon. The wolf pup nodded his head and went to the nearest corner and lay down.
Natt watched him for a few more minutes before going to the kitchen, cooking a steak, and bringing half of it for him and half for herself. Consider this the only consideration you are getting. She placed the plate down and took hers, biting into the meat.
The rest of the time, the pup slept, leaving Natt to deal with the humans who came in, the registers, and the money that she locked up in a safe with a lock so no one could steal anything.
Night finally came. Eric and Pam had awoken. The pup was now sitting in a booth in the VIP area, with Natt asking questions about him, which he answered. Eric came in with eyes full of fury, but Natt told him that he should at least hear him out and get Alcide. He begrudgingly agreed and called the pack Alpha to the council.
An hour passed by, and the Alpha of the local werewolf pack arrived. He came and talked to both Natt and Eric before he spoke with the boy, and the two soon left. Natt was free to resume her role as guard for the Viking King.
Once the boy and the Alpha left, Eric spoke to her mind and asked her questions about the day. She, of course, answered her king. He motioned her forward, and she shifted to her cat form, a swirl of black, and she was a small black Bombay cat with yellow-green eyes. She moved like a shadow and was on his lap, curling up against him, her chest rumbling, purring in contentment. She had done her job, and now she was in the lap of the only person in the world who meant anything to her.
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▶ Summary of Post: My first drabble: Natt meets a wolf pup shunned by his pack and dumped on the streets. He wanders into Fangtasia, unaware of what—or who—waits inside. Will Natt attack? Offer shelter until Eric wakes? Or call Alcide through Sookie to return him to the pack alpha?
