A/N: Well, folks, this is it. You've all been so staggeringly patient with me, (and my dirty cliffhangers) that I've decided to post all the remaining chapters in one go. Thank you everyone for your support and interest and comments, you've been a great audience! Hope you enjoy, and happy new year!

To Live To Fight Another Day

Sookie awoke to tear-moistened cheeks, a weakness she gave into more and more as time wore on. Daily she fought her demons, helplessness, and hopelessness. After such dreams, to be so close to Eric, only to be swatted away and back to her harsh reality, she feared they were winning.

With every day, the fear set more thoroughly within her. Every day, some new impossible task waited, some new horror of the vampire court lurked around the corner. Like hawks she and Henrik watched for opportunity, and nearly three months had passed without presentation.

After their initial break for freedom, the vampires kept them locked up airtight. No mistakes were made, no windows left open for flight.

The telepaths were kept under a close lock and key, and they earned their keep tenfold, earning cash for the Queen by the fistful.

Everyone wanted a piece of Sophie-Anne's pet telepaths, for truth or novelty depended on the flavor of the evening.

Every night, both went to bed exhausted from their efforts, minds craving a dreamland where they could wander freely, without interruption.

Of one thing, Sookie stood certain. Eric yet lived, but where, or how, she could not know. Always in her dreams, he came to her in shackles, unbreakable fetters neither of their efforts could budge.

Sookie and Henrik saw little of each other these long months, a glance in the hall here, an audience with the Queen there. In passing quick mental messages of fortitude were exchanged, glances of longing, words of love. Silently they comforted each other best they could, but such brief interludes proved paltry in the face of their despair.

Now, after his encounter with Andre's skill at manipulating the human body, Henrik limped heavily, greatly relying upon the use of a cane. As much as he admired the TV doctor Gregory House, it was a physical resemblance he'd never coveted. As Sophie-Anne had commanded, there could be no more quick movement for him. No more jogging, skiing, or Sunday futbol matches in the park. His days were filled by a constant dull pain in his left leg, and it was not long before a Vicodin addiction seemed it would be a rational and welcome thing. However, no such drugs were to be had in his confinement.

Still, he held his head high, and with calculation Andre watched him, waiting for the doctor to try at another great escape. None of the vampires wished to admit how close he and Sookie came to eluding them the first time.

Of all the vampire visitors who came to call and pander for Sophie's telepaths, it was their neighboring king, Russell Eddington, who set Sookie's hair on end the most. A charming devil of a silvered tongue, he courted Sophie-Anne with the skill of the snake who enticed Eve with the apple.

He sent diplomatic gifts to her court, the worst of which, in the telepaths' opinion, a battery of werewolf guards to supplement the human suits who'd nearly lost Sookie. One in particular unsettled far more than the others, a werewolf who surpassed even the mountains Wybert and Sigebert in size. An ex-marine, the wolf named Xavier watched all around him with quick and hungry eyes, an unpredictable energy surrounding him as the electricity of a gathering storm. Sookie recognized it from her time at Merlotte's with Terry, and hoped she would not be near when the PTSD'd werewolf finally snapped.

And to what purpose did Russell pander to the Queen? It was not her lands, her power, her hand, or her favor he coveted. Nay, for the King of Mississippi possessed all these things in full. It was not long before he put forth his proposal to Sophie-Anne, making the greedy Queen an offer she would not refuse.

Sophie-Anne called Henrik and Sookie to her private sun-room to make the announcement to her telepaths, each escorted by their own guard. Secretly Sookie loved this room, its bright and cheerful light, even as she resented the Queen laying out in a swimsuit and sunglasses that no doubt the cost of which could feed a village in Africa for a decade.

"Stop looking so glum," she commanded cattily, tossing her hair. "Such frowns you wear, on a day you're to receive such good news!"

By the flavor of Sophie-Anne's smile, slightly poisonous along with all that Hollywood glamour, both telepaths had learned to beware. She'd come up with some new scheme for them, no doubt, and from experience they knew it could only be atrocious at best.

They couldn't fathom what lay before them, on their most twisted of days.

Quietly, they awaited their latest command, and Sophie found she missed the days when they'd fought with her at least a little. Watching Andre dole out punishment in her honor excited her ego to no end. "Well, aren't you curious in the slightest?"

"I can hardly contain myself," muttered Henrik, leaning upon his cane. The weather had changed that day, and the drop of barometric pressure left him aching even more than usual.

Sophie-Anne crossed her legs primly, small hands folded neatly upon her knee. "Well, my dear telepaths, you should rejoice. You're going to be parents!"

Sookie's expression twisted into a mask of fear, mouth wide open in disbelief, as Henrik's brows drew together in a dark frown. "What nonsense is this?" he demanded, earning a thump upon his shoulder from the guard behind him.

"I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before," Sophie went on brightly. "I, in possession of two healthy telepaths of a breeding age - - the trait is certainly genetic. Who knew there could be such a market? King Russell is quite eager to have a little telepath of his own."

Of their own accord, Sookie's hands folded protectively over her womb, her heart skittering around her chest in a fear-fueled adrenaline frenzy. How could any woman be so cold as to sell a child to the highest bidder?

Immediately the scientist in Henrik protested, as the man in him balked in dumb horror at the idea. "The trait as you call it isn't so predictable. At best the telepathy skips a generation," he lectured sternly.

"Don't be so certain," snapped Sophie hotly, clearly not in the mood for such things as logic, or science, when money was involved. Russell offered her ten million dollars for a child of extra-cognitive talents, and she intended to deliver. He coveted a telepath all his own, desiring a loyal servant he could mold from the very beginning into a perfect tool.

Henrik realized he could not expound on his certainty, without revealing the extensive research he'd conducted with Dr. Ibsen. Sophie-Anne had not discovered the existence of the telepath center at the University of Stockholm; it remained one of their most closely guarded secrets. If word got out, they knew all their comrades and friends would be in danger of coercion or worse for the rest of their lives.

A sick feeling rolling in his stomach, Henrik bit his tongue.

"Sookie's grandfather had the gift," Sophie went on. "I know this from the research William Compton conducted for me, before disappearing. Can I assume a grandparent of yours also read minds, Dr. Jurgensen?"

Henrik's grandfather ruthlessly built their business into an empire with the use of his gift, always able to keep a step ahead of competitors, dipping into their minds for company secrets, but he felt reluctant to speak of it.

"Yes, my grandfather bore the burden," the doctor simply answered.

The Queen could not have seemed more pleased. "Excellent. Then who knows what results we might get with two telepaths?"

Back rigid, Sookie stood stock still, unable to remove her glare from the Queen. Defiantly, the vampire met Sookie's eyes, daring her to protest her decree.

Sookie had stood so strong, in the face of everything. So very strong, but this verged on the last straw. Though she had not planned on having children, the thought of doing so and giving her child over to be raised by machinating vampires pulled dangerously at her soul, stretching her taut to breaking. A tremor ran through her, of fury and fear. "How dare you?" She could project no louder than a whisper, but the Queen heard perfectly well.

"Thank me, Ms. Stackhouse. You're getting a vacation. Your days will still be mine, of course. You still have a debt to me. However, your nights…" Her eyes strayed to Henrik, raking over his handsome form, a smirk of triumph pulling at the sight of his favored leg, "Should be somewhat enjoyable from now on. This week in particular, according to our count. We've been keeping track of you. So return to your chambers, and don't disappoint me."

She returned to a reclining position, adjusting her sunglasses, dismissing her telepaths. "Oh, and one more thing," she called as the guards turned their charges to go, both telepaths in too much shock to go about it on their own. "Don't try to be clever. There are cameras, we can see everything if we wish, and a doctor will be monitoring you closely, Sookie. Unless you want your Henrik to lose the use of his other leg - - or worse - I would do as I ask."

Even as she walked in silence, a ball of rage built inside Sookie. Never before had she hated anyone so completely. Wished for their death with every fiber of her being. Not even Bill - - no, this ranked far worse, she reasoned. This crossed the line from inhumanity into criminal insanity, and there was nothing she could do, without condemning Henrik to death or worse.

The doctor brooded as well in his own dark cloud, and only after being shoved into Sookie's chambers roughly by their guards did they dare meet each other's eyes.

For what seemed an eternity, neither could say a word, caught in the horror of the situation.

At long last it was Henrik who leaned back against the door, shaking his head as he looked to the ceiling. "Not like this," he sighed, pleaded, with some force of the universe to step forth, to deliver them from this hell made by devious vampires. It was as though his fondest wishes, to be free to love Sookie, to make love to her, to have a family, were all twisted and turned against him, fashioned into arrows and fired to pierce his heart.

Sighing deeply, Sookie turned to pace the oriental carpet at the center of the room, feeling trapped as an animal. Tears of fury that had gathered in the Queen's presence finally felt free to fall here, with Henrik. The inevitable hung in the hair above their heads as a guillotine, and Sookie choked, "They'll hurt you. Again."

"So be it," sighed the doctor gravely. No matter what physical pain they caused him, he didn't think it could possibly be worse than conceiving a child with Sookie, only to have their baby snatched away and sold into slavery to a neighboring kingdom.

And though this thought horrified Sookie as well, shook her to the core, she also thought of problems more immediate. After watching Andre torture Henrik while mangling his leg, she knew she couldn't allow the vampire such a reason to lay hands on him in such a way again.

"No," argued Sookie, her tone quiet but firm.

"You would have the alternative?" demanded the doctor. "You could stand it?" Slowly he made his way towards her, and she watched his labored gait, once so athletic and agile, and now painful simply to watch. He cupped her cheek in his large hand, even as she found she couldn't quite bring herself to meet his eyes at that moment. "You could carry our child to term, and lose it to these monsters? Because I think I would rather die than inflict that on another living thing. Much less…"

Ours, hung unsaid in the air, and Sookie broke into a sob, clutching at his hand.

"We'll just have to be smarter than them," she decreed through a voice laden heavy with sorrow. "How can that bitch be smarter than us? We almost escaped once. We can do it again."

"That was before…" Henrik glanced down at his ruined leg. Though she could not see it through the tailored slacks he wore, a large piece of thigh muscle had been carved away, and his knee rendered practically useless.

"We'll find a way," Sookie insisted, and the words echoed as a distant memory through her mind as she wrapped her arms around Henrik's torso, settling her head against his chest. She felt stronger just repeating them, and so she spoke them once more, invoking their power. "We will find a way."

They stood motionless in an embrace, Henrik bowing his head to rest upon hers. Amidst all the chaos, the demons howling outside, at least this felt right. "I bet you wish you'd never met me that day at Merlotte's," said Sookie softly, her speech muffled against his chest. "I've caused you so much trouble and pain, Henrik. I'm so sorry."

Henrik pulled back just enough to tilt Sookie's face towards his. "Don't say that."

"It's true."

And the doctor pressed lips to her forehead, whispering as a prayer, "You're the light of my life, Sookie, even if I can only watch you from across the room. I love you."

"You shouldn't," she insisted, and Henrik's long thumb swept across her cheek to catch a tear.

"This is my fault, not yours. I told you, I knew something was amiss, when that mysterious vampire approached me on the street, whispering of Eric's downfall. I should have told you, and Eric, the moment it happened."

Sookie, however, would have none of it. She shook her head adamantly, her hand fisting in his shirt. "To what end?" she demanded. "Eric and I live on a constant offensive. We're always waiting for someone to come after us from the shadows. Do you think we could have found the witch, searching the streets of Stockholm randomly for someone dressed in a black cloak?"

"I had a phone number that could have been traced," insisted the doctor. "Instead of doing the sensible thing and handing it over to one of the firms my father deals with in such matters to have it investigated, I burned it up in a dramatic gesture over the toilet."

"And it probably would have led us to a pre-paid, untraceable cell phone. This isn't your fault," she insisted, with some heat in her tone.

It felt good to feel something besides hopelessness. To pretend she amounted to more than a rag doll at the mercy of the vampires outside.

Standing up on tiptoe, Sookie brushed Henrik's hair from his eyes, kissing his forehead, his brows, and down the straight line of his nose. The doctor softened with every touch - - he wanted nothing more than to fall into Sookie's soft warmth, to allow himself to be comforted by her strength and her love. "No one is to blame but them," she sighed. "I will blame hunger for power, and I will blame greed. I will never, ever, blame you."

A rattling groan escaped Henrik. "Just when I think I have no more strength left, Sookie, you bring reserves like rain brings life to the desert."

Sookie, however, shook her head in denial. "You're always the strong one, Henrik. I'll be your strong one tonight. I'll carry us both if I have to."

"You truly are a Valkyrie," sighed the doctor, envisioning Sookie upon a mighty horse, taking her pick of the bravest heroes and bearing them to Valhalla.

"Am I?"

Gathering his hand in hers, Sookie slowly began leading Henrik to the bedroom.

"Yes."

"Well tonight, I pick you."

She seated him upon the bed, a position of which brought them eye to eye. Their expressions were equally haunted, equally unsure, the thought of being together again not nearly enough to cancel out the gravity of the situation.

Either way, they would be damned.

Even as Henrik's hands went to rest upon her waist, he tried to pretend there was some choice left in the matter. "We don't have to do this."

"They want to hurt you again, Henrik. We can't give them an excuse. We'll both need our strength for later." She kissed him gently, and the doctor's resolve melted an almost embarrassing amount, from just that small touch.

"What about Eric?" he dared ask, kissing her once more, lips lingering a bit longer than the first.

Sookie hesitated.

If Eric understood anything, it was the necessity to survive. Would the vampire forsake Henrik, for the sake of fidelity? Somehow, Sookie had faith that Eric would be stronger than that. That their love would survive such a thing, if they themselves could defeat those who threatened them.

"I hope he will forgive me."

Henrik's analytical brain began to run rampant with the possibilities and uncertainties of their future. Say they managed to deliver on Sophie-Anne's decree, and what then? A three month window, maybe four, he reasoned, before Sookie would begin to swell far past the hope of athletic stealth or speed. Then? Say they did return to Sweden, find Eric, set Fröde's treachery to rights. How would Sookie's vampire lover react, to her carrying another's child in her womb? Would she even keep it? Henrik suddenly felt sick, from his heart to his stomach, he and Sookie tossed about without option on the sea of fate.

But he was a scientist, he reminded himself, pleaded with his sense of reason to take firm hold once more. He didn't believe in fate, or even God most days, though in such dire times it would be an easy thing to reach for some higher power to blame. Man's life would be what was made here on earth, by his own construction and consequence of the actions of others. And so he latched onto Sookie's previous assurance, her stalwart insistence, that they would find a way.

With trembling hands, he undressed her slowly, cherishing every inch of newly revealed skin, for he'd felt certain before he would never be allowed such a privilege again. Sookie sighed for his touch, even as silent tears slid from the corners of her eyes. Dread was a specter that lingered in the corner, feeding on their doubts and fears. But it was only as Sookie reached for the top button of Henrik's pants that the doctor truly flinched, placing his large hand over hers.

"My leg … it's not the same," he warned her, unable to speak the word he truly felt.

Ugly.

She had yet to see his scared leg, and though he was not a vain man he felt conscientious of it. Where he'd never lingered long over his appearance in the mirror, he did take pleasure in the way Sookie looked at him. He feared seeing anything less than that loving desire in her eyes.

"It's not important," she assured him, swaying his doubts with more kisses. "You'll always be beautiful to me, Henrik." And though it sounded cliché, it was the simple truth. And so he allowed her to divest him of that last garment, waiting with dread for the emotion that would break him to play over her features; disgust.

It did not come. Light as a feather, Sookie touched the gouge in his thigh, scar tissue still a slick and angry pink. Andre had given the telepath just enough blood to make him useable - not enough to make him whole. There was pain in her eyes, and anger for their captors, but not revulsion.

Stripped of their armor, Sookie lay on her back, Henrik leaning slightly over her from his side. They stroked each other slowly, fingertips tracing over skin, relearning the contours of their personal maps, following the veins as rivers, the dips and valleys of muscle and bone and flesh, the forested patches of hair both fine and wiry.

Touch invoked their special connection, the telepaths laying in their own bubble of shared emotion. Even as the flesh became willing, a slow fire stoked to life in both their bodies, neither felt exactly sure how to begin on this new path fate flung them upon. "How…" whispered Henrik, pressing kisses to her fingers as his eyes appeared completely lost. The rest hung in the air between them, filled with fear and desire, and the doctor bowed his head under its weight. "Sookie, I can't - -"

"Am I going to have to rape you?" Sookie asked with a crooked smile, climbing to straddle the doctor, her hands planted upon his pectoral muscles. His upper body remained fit as the day they'd been captured, and she knew he'd devised a way to exercise in his room, around the leg.

Her outrageous comment won her a small burst of laughter, but failed to chase the darkness from his eyes. Henrik's large hands went to rest upon the supple skin of her hips, and his grip tightened as she moved slightly against him, proving all too well that at least the body would be willing.

"That's not funny," he tried to convince her, but couldn't quite suppress a curl of lips. "It's not the act itself, but the circumstances…"

"Are not ideal. But we have to live to fight another day. We can't let them win."

"I wish I could reconcile so easily. I'm afraid I'm not quite the survivalist you are."

"No. You're far too noble. And I love you for it. Even if I can only watch you from across the room," she mirrored with a tragic smile, taking his hand in hers. "But tonight, we don't have to just watch. We can have this." She kissed his palm, the tips of his fingers. "And this." A hand over his other, she led his touch to travel the hourglass curve of her torso, until one full breast disappeared in the cup of his hand, winning her a pained groan.

Suddenly, the doctor sat up, wrapping his arm about her waist, pulling her close. The strength that remained in him surprised Sookie, impressing the cavewoman within her, the lizard part of her brain that sought a mate not for brains but the brawn of a hunter. Appreciatively, her hands glided over his chest and shoulders, raking nails lightly over the bulge of his biceps in a way that won her a shudder of delight.

"What I would give, to be at the ski cabin with you again, like this. Snowed in, with nothing to do but be together. I think those were the best three days of my life, last year."

Once more he proved more capable than she'd imagined, flipping them so that he lay atop her. She didn't know how the pain in his leg affected his movement, and had somewhat expected she would be the one to take charge in this as well. However, something melted in her at feeling him above her, his weight pressing her down into the soft mattress. Truth be told, it was her favorite way to make love, to be enveloped and protected by his warm body

"Then let's go," she offered. Henrik sat up on his elbows, blond eyebrows raised high, clearly not following. "Open your mind to me," she requested, catching his lips with hers, as she pulled at his mind in a similarly alluring way. "We're going home," she declared, and as always Henrik followed her, giving in to the world she built for them. Because though Sookie had been born in this humid southern state, it was Sweden Sookie now claimed in her heart as her true home, the place she loved most, the land where she truly lived.

In the telepaths minds, the trappings of their ornate prison faded, giving way to happier times. A bright sunlight, of the sort only possible with the reflection of snow outside, streamed through the windows upon them. They lay not upon a heavy velvet bedspread, but the warm, pillowy goosedown Henrik favored in his own furnishing. Bit by bit, both added details to their vision, until the space they occupied felt as complete as the day they'd lived the memory. It came as a relief to them both, this small taste of home, even if only a product of their own imaginations.

"I think you've become the master now," said Henrik, astounded by her powers, sweeping her hair away from her eyes in a tender gesture. He stole a languorous kiss, voice thick with desire and wonder. "The student has surpassed the teacher."

Sookie, however, shook her head to the contrary. "I'm certain you still have a few things to show me," she insisted, moving her hips forward, pulling him into her while caught in the clear glacial blue of his eyes.

With a growl from deep in his chest, Henrik could not stop himself from completing the action, sinking completely inside, a fit so snug as to seem tailored to him. This was a side of him only seen in the throes of intimacy, the only part of his modern masculinity that would give in to primitive temptation - - like this he was simply raw, and Sookie wanted to be devoured by him.

"I just might," he agreed, and for a few hours of blessed comfort in his arms, Sookie let him do just that.