So, this is the prologue to my new story. This is AH and may be a little angsty in places, but then it is me, so that's to be expected.

I hope you enjoy.

Kaleidoscope – Prologue

Have you ever been in that relationship that at times felt so easy you thought something must be wrong?

Have you ever walked away from someone and not realised how big a mistake you'd made until you had left?

Have you ever been fearful of returning home knowing that everything has changed?

.

Eric and I had known each other forever, but it wasn't until we were seventeen that we started any kind of relationship. That's not to say we weren't attracted to each other before that, as once we were together we both admitted we had been. However, at just seventeen years of age, and after – seemingly – years of dancing around each other we started dating.

We'd both had relationships before – as much as teenagers can – although neither one of us had taken that final step. We were therefore each other's firsts. My Gran and his parents had been thrilled that we got together, and admitted that they'd always imagined we'd end up together.

Of course, at the time we agreed that we would be together forever. We both went off to Tulane University – him to study law and me to major in English Literature – and after four years away where we outlasted most other on-campus relationships, we moved into an apartment together in Shreveport.

Looking back, this was probably where things started to go wrong.

Eric got himself an apprenticeship working for Cataliades and Company, and I became a junior journalist at the Shreveport Times. We were both ambitious, and both worked all hours to further our careers. In the end, we were ghosts passing in the night. There would be days when we didn't speak to each other, but it wasn't through malice, it was simply that we hardly saw each other. One of us would be working mornings, the other one nights. We'd both also work weekends, or go and visit our families in Bon Temps. It meant that we had very little time for ourselves.

We also disagreed on some fundamental factors. I'd always had dreams of moving to the big city, with New York being top of my list. But Eric never wanted to leave Louisiana; he wanted to stay close to his roots.

It was in the September nearly seven years ago that we eventually sat down together and talked things through. I think by then we'd both realised that something was seriously wrong with our relationship, and it had been Eric to make the call for us both to take some time out and talk. I knew that it was long overdue, and I was sure that he did as well.

We hadn't made time for us, and our relationship had suffered because of it. That's not to say things weren't great at times, as they really were, but getting us in one room at the same time when neither one of us was completely exhausted was difficult. In the end, it was me that suggested we went our separate ways, and Eric didn't disagree with me.

If I was honest, I was being a little selfish, as I'd been speaking to a friend from college who was now living in New York and had made promises of getting me work if I ever made in New York. It was what I'd always dreamed of, and Eric was the only real reason that I was still in Louisiana. Sure, I loved my Gran and younger brother Jason dearly, but Gran knew I always wanted something more, and had always been supportive of my dreams.

It was certainly painful leaving Eric and tears were shed from both of us. But we had really talked things through, and we both agreed that maybe we had come to a natural end. I ended up calling my friend Russell in New York, who arranged for an interview for me and introduced me to a friend of his who was looking for a roommate. I stayed with Eric until I left for New York, but in that time we were more friends than lovers.

We'd made promises of keeping in touch – phone numbers and email addresses were to be kept updated, and I had given him my address in New York. But neither of us seemingly made the effort.

It was six months later that I realised my mistake. I'd missed Eric almost straight away, but I had put it down to being homesick. However it was more than that, and before I really realised what I was doing I was booking a flight back to Shreveport.

I'd gone back to the apartment we'd shared, but he wasn't in. As it was a Saturday evening I went to Bon Temps to his family home, hoping he'd be there as we had often done. But when I arrived I only found his twenty-year-old sister Pam. She told me that Eric was doing well and that he was enjoying his life as a bachelor. I knew there was nothing malicious behind Pam's words, and she'd informed me that he was out with friends at a club in Shreveport.

So, probably stupidly, I drove back to Shreveport to see him. When I entered the club I saw him straight away. He was surrounded by a gaggle of women who were hanging off his every word, and I realised then and there that Eric had moved on with his life. He was always a good-looking man, so it wasn't too much of a surprise that him being single and on the market would be popular with the female population of Shreveport.

I didn't let him see me, and instead spent one miserable night in a hotel with my tail between my legs before returning back to New York. I'd asked Pam not to tell Eric that I'd been back, and by the fact that Eric never contacted me I assumed that she'd kept her secret. Either that or he wasn't concerned that I'd come back. I'd always preferred option one.

But I didn't allow this to get me down. Instead I decided to enjoy my own singledom, and certainly enjoyed the nightlife and bars of New York City. I'd settled into a great job that I loved, and although I didn't see my family as often as I'd like to, I was hugely happy.

After two years of being in the city I met Bill Compton. He was older than me, thirty-eight to my twenty-six, but we hit it off straight away. He was also from Louisiana and presented me with a little bit of home away from home. He worked as a Professor of History at Columbia University where he specialised in the civil war and the history of the South. I ended up moving in with him after only six months of dating.

I had to admit that I was happy with him, and I pretty much forgot about Eric. I didn't return to Louisiana often, and when I did it was split between seeing Gran and Jason, or Bill's family who lived close to Baton Rouge. It meant that I didn't see Eric at all in the years I'd been away from my home state. That didn't mean I hadn't heard anything of him, as he'd stayed in contact with my Gran and younger brother, so when he found himself a serious girlfriend I heard about it.

The one thing I regretted was that I couldn't be there for him when his parents died in a light aircraft crash. At the time I'd been in remote Australia with Bill, and by the time I got to check my messages the funeral was about to take place and I was unable to get a flight that would get me back to Bon Temps in time. Instead, using Interflora, I sent a note and a large bunch of Calla Lilies to him, knowing they'd always been a favourite of his mom's.

But now I was back in Louisiana.

Bill and I had split six months earlier having realised that we wanted different things from life. I suppose I always knew that the age gap would eventually cause us a problem, and with Bill in his early forties we wanted very different things from life. Our break-up was mutual, and a lot easier than my 'mutual' break-up with Eric had been. We continued to see each other as friends in the months that followed, and I was one of the first people to meet his new girlfriend Judith. She was the same age as him and had two grown-up children from a previous marriage. They were great together and I was happy for him.

But being back in Louisiana was hard for me.

Jason had finally gotten his ass kicked into shape by the army, and in the April, a few months previous, he'd gone off to the Middle East on a tour of duty that wouldn't last less than eighteen months. I couldn't deny that it was what he needed as he'd spent far too long drifting, but the timing couldn't have been worse considering Gran had a massive stroke only two months later.

My Gran had pretty much raised Jason and me, as we'd both been staying with her when our parents died in a flash flood one stormy November night. I'd only been seven years old, but Jason was just a babe in arms so has no memory of our parents. Gran, however, was brilliant to us. She took us in and raised us as her own despite the obvious heartbreak she must have had at losing her only son and daughter-in-law.

So when I had that phone call to tell me that she was unable to live by herself, I knew what I had to do. It pained me to quit my job as an Arts writer with the New York Times as it was the job I had always wanted, but they promised me work on a freelance basis, and I hoped that my editor would honour that agreement. Since splitting with Bill, I'd moved in with my friend Amelia, who had split with her boyfriend Bob around the same time. Luckily for me, she was from money so promised not to rent my room out should I need to come back, something I was grateful for.

The doctors had told me that despite extensive rehab following her stroke, my Gran was suffering from severe right-sided weakness – or hemiparesis – and was having difficulty with communicating at times. They had warned me she'd also had a personality change, and could be quite angry at times. I knew that I probably could have paid to have her looked after as an in-patient, or had a live-in carer for her, but considering the way she had looked after Jason and I, it wasn't something I seriously considered.

Instead, I made the move back to Louisiana. I was still planning to write, and I was glad that I'd had that high-speed internet cable installed for Gran so we could chat on Skype, but I intended to be the one to mainly look after her. She would still need regular specialist assistance, but then she also needed someone to drive her to her appointments since she was no longer allowed to drive.

The change in Gran had been quite shocking when I went to pick her up. She'd always been so loving and affectionate, but now she was bitter and angry, snapping at me when I did the slightest thing wrong, or struggling to remember things. One of the nurses explained to me that her change was a common side effect of a stroke, and that I had to be patient with her, but it was hard to see and difficult to not take it personally.

When I got Gran back to her farmhouse, I suddenly realised that the house was not good for disabled access, and it was a lot of effort to get her inside the house. She insisted on being taken to her bedroom, and ordered me away, telling me that I wasn't needed.

So that's why I'm here now sitting on the small hill between the Northman and Stackhouse properties. When Eric and I first started dating we used to meet up here in the treeline, and even as adults we'd always enjoyed walking to this spot.

I could see that Eric had made quite a few changes to his childhood home. It looked more modern, and there was a swimming pool in the backyard that hadn't been there before. I knew that it was wrong to spy on him, but I wanted to see him before I ran into him and his girlfriend together.

As I sat there watching, I noticed movement and out strode Eric, his arm wrapped around the tall brunette I presumed to be Isabel. I watched him wrap his arms around her then kiss her cheek before she climbed into a large black car, which was parked in the driveway. They spoke for probably a minute, him leaning down and resting on the open window before she drove off.

I hadn't planned on seeing Eric straight away, but as I knew he was alone it seemed the ideal opportunity. I watched Eric walk back into his house before running back to mine and climbing into my Audi.

I was going to see Eric Northman for the first time in nearly seven years, and I was suddenly very nervous.

Thoughts? Comments?

The next, full, chapter should be up within a few days, and I plan on posting once a week, more if I'm able to, and most likely on a Sunday night.

I don't envisage this story being too long, but things may change.

Thanks for reading.