To Stare Death In The Face
By: Randomnormality

Summary: When Godric allows himself to be taken into custody by the Fellowship of the Sun, he finds himself placed in a silver cage, located in the basement of a church. To his surprise, he is not the only one caged in the basement. They call her a witch. He knows better than that. Her passive features irritate the Fellowship of the Sun and Godric finds a small piece of him, something he felt long since disappeared, becoming attached to this strange woman.

But nothing is easy as it seems.

Rating: This story is rated M for Mature Readers. Contains graphic violence, coarse language and sexual content.

Pairings: Godric/OC, Sookie/Eric

Author's Note: This story is of my own creations, even if I do not own the characters of the True Blood series. I have yet to come across a story that I find myself itching to write, although some points may seem to be already done by other authors, but it is most likely because we are following the plot of Season Two. Please note, my original character is of my own ideals and is not a mary sue, even though it may look that way in the beginning.

Thank you for reading and please leave a review, because it gives me inspiration to continue writing the story.

-Chapter Two-

Conflicting Knowledge

Eris stared at the sleeping figure. Something didn't feel right. This creature, correction, this being didn't seem like the cold-blooded killer most vampires are perceived to be. She knew he was no where close to being innocent, her Occulus Veritus showed the blood of past conquests staining nearly every inch of his body. She knew he was a damned creature, but no damned creature would carry such a sorrowful mindset.

Hearing the door open and a set of footsteps, her thoughtful silver eyes dulled to cold steel as Steve Newlin and his bitch, Gabe, stepped into view. She didn't bother acknowledging the pair as they unlocked the door to the cage. Barely hearing them command her to her feet, she complies despite her hatred for them. Following them out of the cage and up the flight of stairs, she finds herself in a familiar room, faded blood marking different areas of the room. This wasn't her first time in this room, and she doubted it would be her last.

As her hands are bound above her head, her feet bound to the ground, she watches as Gabe extracts a leather whip from the wall. As archaic as it may appear, she knew their reason behind using them was to take her sins from her flesh. Her face gives away nothing as the zippered back of her tunic-top is unzipped, the bare flesh of her back appearing before them. Newlin stands before her as his bitch stands behind me, whip in his grasp.

"What is your name?" Steve demands.

She quirks an eyebrow but says nothing, seeing him nod to the bastard behind her. The stinging sensation of the thin sliver of leather meeting her flesh ran through her nerves.

"What is your name?" Steve demands once more.

Her eyes glaze over as she continues to refuse to give them answers. As more flesh is ripped from her back, she allows her senses to fade to the background as she concentrates on her old lessons. Why was she doing this again? The bastard hasn't been making much sense as of lately. Pushing back thoughts of her ever-so-loving father, she watches as Steve rolls up his sleeves moving over to a box in the corner. Seeing the syringe appear in the man's hands, she schooled her features as the strange, transparent liquid filled the vacuum.

Ten minutes passed after the drug was forcefully administered into her system. The odd taste in her mouth filled her with unease.

"Do you know who I am?"

She parted her lips to tell him exactly what she thought of him when she said, "Steve Newlin, founder of the Fellowship of the Sun, a church that deems vampires as damned creatures. I can also tell you, you are a dick."

Almost instantly she realized she was given some serum that numbed her mental-to-verbal filter. She licked her lips, quickly coming up with a plan.

"What are you?"

"Truthfully," a smirk formed on her lips, "As cliche as it sounds, I am your worse nightmare."

A stinging sensation snaps against my exposed back, "You are no vampire."

She giggles, "I know."

A wince appears on her face as the whip connects with her back again, her head turning to stare Gabe down, "You're end will come swiftly if you keep that up, motherfucker."

A series of three whips snap against my back, tearing deeper into the broken flesh.

A familiar metallic scent causes the grey-blue eyes of Godric to snap open, the remains of his dead sleep immediately fading to the back of his mind as his body snaps to a seated position. Looking around the cage, he sees nothing out of place. Not even Eris. Her eyes shut and her appearance shrouded in the shadows of the corner. Inhaling again, he follows the scent of blood to the same corner she sat in. Moving to his feet, he approaches her, kneeling before her, but her body gives off no acknowledgment. Using his knuckle against her chin, he lifts her face, bringing it to light.

"You have been injured," he states, looking over the bruised and battered face.

"I've dealt with worse in my life-time," she retorts, her eyes opening to reveal the once amused pools of mercury turned to a cold shade of steel.

"What happened?"

"They forced this truth serum into my system, and apparently, the answers I gave them, while completely truthful, was not what they wanted to hear," she replies, her tone monotonous.

Godric wondered where this young girl's spirit went to. He wouldn't believe they broke her spirit so easily. She still bled off an aura that drew trouble to her. He releases her chin after a thoughtful moment and once again moved to mirror her cross-legged position. Godric found himself intrigued by this girl. There was something so unearthly about her. Her mouth carried a set of fangs, which did not retract much like his own. Her eyes were unlike anything he had come across in his existence. Her demeanor seemed to shift to suit the situation. She carried the ideals of a warrior, easily finding her targets weakness and exploiting it. He only knew that from her comments thrown toward the human, Gabe.

"What are you?"

A smirk finally tugged at the edges of her lips, "For a vampire, you seem to have a good head on your shoulders," His lips parted to argue that was not his question, but she continued, "But I'm not the type of person to tell all of my biggest secrets to someone I met a couple hours ago."

"Then at least tell me something about yourself. Do you have a family?" he asks, changing the subject.

Her legs uncross, her feet flat against the floor as she pulls her knees to her chest, her eyes softening with thoughts, "In the familial sense? Yes. My father is a pretentious bastard, who cares for nothing but himself and what he can gain out of a situation. My brother is cruel, dominating and is not afraid to spill innocent blood to get what he is after. In the sense that I feel comfortable and loved? I'm sure at some point in my life my mother cared for me, but she has been dead for years," Godric swallows needlessly as her gaze grows even softer, her face reflecting the pains of a broken family, "My grandfather is the only person in my family that supports my decisions and encourages my choices." Those were the same thing. "He is a great person, always makes sure he is completely justified before taking action. Sometimes, I feel that is something that must skip a generation."

"I apologize for bringing up painful thoughts," he says softly, "The human Gabe mentioned a sword?"

"When I was young, my grandfather insisted I learn a variety of defensive strategies. My father was against it. I fell in love with fencing, and from there it grew," she replied offhandedly.

Godric quirked an eyebrow, "Defensive strategies? For what?"

"Protection. It is rare that my father's bloodline gives birth to a female. Given the circumstances, if one manages to mark me as a mate, they would be placed amongst the family, even if it is without my consent," Godric nodded as she paused, allowing the words to sink in, "My father hated my existence, said it wasn't normal. My grandfather insisted I take self-defense. I don't know how many would-be suitors I have fought with."

"So you have never been with another?" He asks, curious that this woman seems to lack any sense of private thought.

Eris giggled, "I have had sex with several people, most of them know nothing of my worth. Sex and Mating are completely different concepts in my family."

As the days and nights passed, Eris and Godric learned more about each other. Neither of them giving more information than needed. Eris often chided herself on becoming attached to the vampire. He was an easy person to speak with. Every night, they would trade stories and everyday while in his Dead Sleep Eris would be taken to the same room as always. Every time Godric would waken from his slumber, he felt a sense of confusing guilt consume him as he inhaled the scent of her blood. Each time, it took longer and longer to break her from her monotonous speech. As each day passed, Eris's inner thoughts grew darker and harder.

'Your pain and confusion is breaking my concentration, my child.'

Almost instantly the pain from the leather connecting with the open wounds along her back faded, 'I apologize. This mission is confusing.'

'How so, my dear?'

'Grandfather, can you do me a favor? Look over the mission outline and take a look inside the past few decades. Something about all of this seems suspicious.'

'Allow me to do one better, my dear.'

As Eris is dragged back into the cage, her weakened body collapses to the floor and the darkness consumes her.