A/N: Hi there! Umm…so I read a lot of the Happily Never After entries and must have used up several boxes of tissues reading them. They inspired this. I hope you like it.

A thousand years ago, somewhere near the shore of a small country, Vikings had invaded. A golden haired warrior by the name of Eric swung his father's broadsword and took down many of his foes in the heat of battle. His battle cry struck fear into the hearts of many men.

One approached him, unseen in the melee. It was not skill, not strength, but luck that gave him the chance he needed to strike the fatal blow. Eric did not feel the cold blade enter him, but he did see the man who wielded it, taking him down in a single swipe of his blade, separating his head from his body.

Even after he felt the pain of the wound, he still fought on, driving his body to fight until every man that stood against him had met their end. When the last man had fallen to his steel, his body gave out on him and he collapsed on the hard earth.

The world was growing colder around him, his grip on his broadsword loosening as his blood ran over the grass, the light of the day dimming with each passing moment. The feeling in his legs had gone away. Looking at the severed head of the man who had ambushed him, he at least found comfort that his enemy had died by his own hand.

Opening his eyes fully to meet his end, the vision of gold met him, galloping from the sky. Women on winged horseback, brandishing weapons and wearing armor that glinted in the sun, rode down to the rough hills of the surrounding lands where other men lay dying. One mighty steed ran straight for him, carrying what could only be sunshine and light.

Wings with a greater expanse than a longboat carried horse and rider, stopping before him. The mighty beast pawed the ground while the rider dismounted, jumping from the saddle to land on bare feet. She, for only a woman could fill and overflow from such a breast plate, ran a hand over her horses neck before turning to Eric, giving him a smile that made him forget the cold.

Full hips to grab onto, breasts that should be worshipped, strong legs that belonged wrapped around his waist, bright blue mischievous eyes the color of the heavens on a clear day, golden locks the same shade as his own cascading down her back in loose curls. He gave her a smile he knew had the effect of drawing many women to his bed. "And here I believed all the women of this land were hunch back trolls."

Laughter that sounded like silver bells in a breeze, sky blue eyes twinkled merrily with his smile. "You are quite the charmer, Viking." She looked around the battlefield as her sisters made their selections from the many men who lay dying. "I had to fight off a dozen others just to be the one to claim you."

"You would fight for me, Valkyrie?" He began to sit up, his body no longer aching from its wounds.

She looked him over, hand planted firmly on her hip. "And who would not? You are the greatest warrior I or my sisters have ever seen. You have earned your place in the hall."

Over her shoulder, Eric could see the great hall take shape amongst the clouds. Stone walls shook with song as the best of his people drank and ate to their hearts content. It suddenly dawned on him that he had not survived the battle. "I have fallen." He said disbelieving, looking down at himself into his own dying eyes. From where he stood, he could see the mortal wound just below his ribs still bleeding.

"You did." His golden beauty nodded and stepped forward to caress his jaw with her small hand, "And you have proven yourself to the God's that you lived and died as a warrior, Eric."

He towered over her, like he did most, but knew that his height did not intimidate her. "What is your name, woman?"

A lick of her plump pink lips had his mouth watering, "My sister's call me Sookie."

"Sookie." He tried out the word, letting it roll from his tongue a few times. "A strange name."

"I am a strange woman." Sookie said, her laughter returning.

Eric waggled his eyebrows at her, "I like strange things."

Shaking her golden head, she mounted her horse in a single swift motion. She held out a hand to him, "Come along, Eric. Your brother is eager to see you."

He nodded and went to pick up his sword. It surprised him when his hand went right through it.

"Your weapon is on your hip, Viking." Sookie said.

Eric's hand went to his side where his father's sword was indeed sitting in its scabbard. He reached out to the horn of the saddle and mounted the horse, pushing her back in her saddle and taking her place at the beast's front.

His passenger smacked his arm. "How dare you take a mount from his rider?"

The hands that struck him were held still by his own to settle at his waist. "I promise to take you on as many rides as you wish."

Sookie stopped struggling, instead relaxing her grip around him, finding his broad chest. Her head rested on his back and he would swear he could feel her smile through his jerkin. "I will hold you to that, Eric."

Picking up the reins, he looked upon his body a final time. The pupils to his stormy blue eyes were growing larger, the rise and fall of his chest slowing. He swallowed, thinking of all he was about to leave behind.

"Here." Sookie said to him, a hand on his chest. "What lies there is not important. That life is spent. You are here, with me, Eric."

Placing a hand over hers he nodded and sent out a last silent prayer to the children he would leave behind. He breathed deeply and set his eyes on the great hall, snapping the reins in his hands. The woman holding him hugged him tightly, prepared to spend an eternity lying by a warm hearth at his side.

As they rode away, the golden light faded. The body of the Viking warrior let out a last slow breath as his mighty heart finally came to a stop. Those who would find his body would wonder why his lips held a smile.

O

She had held on for two years. Desperate escape attempts were made almost weekly. Each time, she was returned to Sophie Anne, to Andre, and punished. She'd been at death's door hundreds of times now, just hoping someone would answer. Ever since a man named Bill Compton had come to her town, taken her from everything and everyone she knew, she had lived in hell.

Bill, without the hindrance of going around a sheriff that may have protected her, delivered her to his queen only weeks after her Gran, the woman who had meant everything to her, had been killed. The telepath had then spent the next hellish years reading minds for her mistress, while her favorite child used her up in other ways.

But today, it would end. Here, in this hotel room in the city of Rhodes, suitcase bombs would go off. She'd heard the planning from the Fellowship spies earlier and didn't once think of telling her masters. In a final attempt to leave this world behind, she would take as many vampires as she could with her.

Even as the first explosion sounded, Sookie Stackhouse made no attempt to escape.