I can't believe the response this story is receiving. You people are completely amazing and I love you all!
Many of you have said how they like the confidence Sookie is portraying. A strong, confident Sookie was the impetuous for writing this story. I started wondering how her life would have been different if the fairies had gotten to her before the vampires. I think she would have emerged a stronger, smarter person; way too confident to fall for the likes of Bill Compton, but perfect as a match for a certain strong, powerful vampire.
A huge thank you to Weewoman1 who's been kind enough to pre-read these chapters and point out my typos for me. Without her help, this story would be much messier, and slower getting to you. Thank you. Any remaining mistakes are completely my own, as I couldn't leave well enough alone and changed a few more things.
As always, I don't own these characters. I just like to play with them.
Sookie Stackhouse had always been different, but she hadn't always been a fairy. Or at least that was how she liked to look at it. For the twenty years before Gran died, she thought of herself only as fully, one hundred percent human. The telepathy couldn't be explained but that didn't mean it wasn't human. After all, what else could it have been? She'd grown up in a world before the Great Revelation, when humans assumed they were the only intelligent beings on Earth.
The construct she lived within shattered when Adele Stackhouse perished. Without Adele's presence, the decades old magic concealing her from her fairy family expired. Sookie's beloved Gran was only in the ground scant days when she'd been approached by Claudine Crane, who'd been sent as an emissary of sorts. Claudine claimed she was a cousin, explaining that her grandfather was also Sookie's great-grandfather.
The grieving telepath had embraced her new-found family with open arms and joy in her heart. Family was something the telepath had always yearned for, but since her parents died, it had always been the three of them. With Gran gone, Sookie was left with Jason as her only surviving family member. Jason loved her, she knew, but she wasn't his priority, and likely never would be. To learn she had a large family waiting to meet her was a momentous occasion, one she would never forget.
The moment Claudine gently explained her heritage was another she wouldn't forget. The tall, willowy fairy had spoken in soft, lilting tones, revealing to the telepath the secret her grandmother had carried to her grave. Mitchell Stackhouse was not her biological grandfather; he was Adele's husband, but Fintan Brigant had sired both of her children. As Fintan was one half fairy, that meant that Sookie herself was one eighth Fae.
After getting over the shock of learning there were even such a thing as fairies, let alone that she herself was one, Sookie had spent some time getting to know her Fae side. She instantly fell into a great friendship with Claudine and was delighted to learn her beautiful cousin was appointed as her fairy godmother. Claudine had explained her role was more than honorary, as was the human custom. She would be actively looking out for Sookie's best interests and well-being, in addition to being her magical tutor.
Through it all, Sookie persevered with grace and dignity as the very fabric of her being was ripped from her before being reshaped into a similar, but uniquely different skin. She accepted she wasn't who she thought she was, but balked when told she possessed the essential fairy spark, marking her as more Fae than human. The spark was rare in part Fae, but Sookie's was not only there, it was as strong as could be expected in a full-blooded fairy.
It was this idea she had the hardest time grasping. It was still strange to know she had more than human DNA in her system. To find out she had the yet untapped potential for magic previously reserved in her mind for superheroes? It was ludicrous to even think it.
Bit by bit, Claudine talked her down from the metaphorical ledge as she explained the magic of the spark. Sookie spent a lot of time in thought, formulating the often very insightful, intelligent questions she posed when her cousin finished speaking. After many long nights spent in conversation with Claudine, or deep in thought by herself, Sookie eventually decided to embrace the part of her that scared her the most.
It was frightening to take on a completely new mantle of different when you'd been ridiculed your entire life for being just that. To willingly become something others couldn't possibly understand took bravery, more than Sookie even knew she possessed. Claudine had squealed with excitement when Sookie finally agreed to learn how to use and control her inherent magic.
It had only taken a couple more thoughtful conversations before the telepath accepted her family's offer to visit their homeland. The idea she would be visiting another realm was overwhelming for the small town girl who'd only ever been as far as New Orléans once. But she'd be able to learn to master her spark quickly in Fae, as opposed to the years it might take on Earth.
During one of their many talks, Claudine had focused on the very real reasons why it was important she learn to use her magic. The supernatural world was an unsettled place to be, with wars and skirmishes a frequent occurrence. The fairy explained all the different supernatural groups, paying particular attention to vampires and what she knew of their culture. The vampires were poised on the brink of their Great Revelation and the impressionable girl soaked up every word. Vampire fiction had been a guilty pleasure all of Sookie's life, but Claudine's description of the real thing didn't line up with the romanticized ideal in her mind.
Now, as she gazed upon the vampire standing before her with his long, impressive fangs pressed menacingly against his lower lip, she was particularly glad she had given in and spent the long arduous months training in Fae, time which translated into years of her human life. It wasn't that she feared the vampire; she had been well-conditioned by Claudine to think of the fearsome, handsome vampire as an ally. It was that she knew she might well need to utilize those skills in the coming times. The vampire was right. They wouldn't stop coming now that they scented her, so to speak.
"Wanna put those fangs away, big boy?" The sight of them was distracting in ways the inexperienced girl couldn't truly understand. She toyed with the light balls in her hands, juggling them back and forth as she spoke.
Eric stared at her for a moment before throwing back his head and letting a loud bark of laughter escape his throat. He laughed with true amusement for a moment before looking her in the eye and very deliberately snapping his fangs up.
"Big boy?" He questioned, one golden brow arched high. "Cowboy?" He shook his head. "Have you no respect, woman?"
"Plenty, vampire," she replied with a wink and a smile. It was true. Everything she'd learned about Eric Northman had led to the grudging sense of respect she felt for him. For a vampire, he was one of the good ones; honor was more than an abstract concept for the Sheriff of Area Five.
"How are you suppressing your scent?" Eric asked curiously, leaning in and taking a deep sniff of the air surrounding her. Other than her uniquely delicious aroma, there was nothing else. The intoxicating Fae scent was absent.
"This is my scent," she flipped a light ball in the air and caught it again.
"But you are fae?" His eyes were penetrating, right to her very soul, it seemed.
"Part-fae," she corrected with a smile. He watched with rapt attention as she compressed the two balls into one. She showed off for a moment, stretching and twisting her fairy light into pretty shapes.
"Halfling?" he guessed, knowing how unlikely it was for a part-fairy to have this much magic.
"Nope," she replied, popping the P. "Not even close. One eighth, to be precise. My grand-daddy was a halfling."
"Remarkable," he murmured. She was remarkable. Eric recognized he had found so much more than just a telepathic waitress. This woman was a force to be reckoned with.
"How is it the entire town knows of your telepathy, but this remains a secret?" Surely Pam's talkative bedmate wouldn't have forgotten to mention this.
She snorted before closing her hands and turning off the magnificent light show. "That's because none of the fools around here have ever seen me do that. Except Lala, but he's different."
"When did you come into your magic?" She had impressive control for one so young. "And who is Lala?"
"Lala is my friend Lafayette. He knows every one of my secrets. And I spent some time in the Realm recently," she replied nonchalantly. "I had good teachers."
Eric reacted visibly to her casual announcement. Traveling to Fae was a big deal for anyone with less than full fairy blood.
"Who are your kin, for you to train in Fae?" His eyes narrowed as his train of thought continued. Her family would need to be well-placed in the power structure.
"My great-grandfather is Niall Brigant. Perhaps you've heard of him?" Sookie giggled as Eric cursed under his breath. Of course he knew Niall Brigant. The crafty old fairy was the Prince of Fae.
"You are royal," he stated with surprise in his voice and eyes. "A Fae princess."
Sam's small office filled with the sound of Sookie's twinkling laughter. "God, not you, too," she groused light-heartedly. "Perhaps by birth, but trust me, I'm no princess! I'm just plain old Sookie Stackhouse."
"Your birthright is all that matters. You are a princess, even if you reject the title." His countenance matched his serious tone. Sookie stared into his face as she responded in an equally serious manner.
"It's not just the title. It's the job description I take issue with."
"What part of the job do you take issue with?"
Sookie sighed. She really wished she hadn't brought it up. "The Fae expect their Princesses to reproduce."
Eric looked at her with questioning eyes. "You don't wish to have children?" Pam was one of the few females he had ever known to express disdain for children.
"I'd love to have children. I really would like to be a mother," she replied wistfully. "But it's not in the cards for me. I won't take the risk of passing on my disability to a child."
"Is your gift," he emphasized the word strongly, "a Fae trait?"
"Not according to Claudine. She said it isn't an ability they possess." Sookie had been shocked when Claudine denied a fairy connection to her telepathy.
"Is it so much of a risk, then? Perhaps your situation is a complete anomaly." Eric really didn't understand why he was arguing the case for her bearing children. It was the one thing he couldn't give her.
"Any risk is too much risk," she replied calmly. Sookie had made a solemn vow to herself when she was just five years old. She would never take the chance of cursing an innocent child with the life she'd had.
"So it is not mating with a Fae you object to," he observed aloud.
"Not so much, although I didn't really like any of the men I met there. If I were to become pregnant while in Fae, I would be expected to stay there and raise the child as Fae." She smiled brightly at the vampire. "As you can tell, I prefer life here in my own realm."
"So that's why a fairy princess is slinging beers for a living."
"Not for a living, no. I received a substantial inheritance from my Fae family." It was still a little bit shocking for the girl who grew up poor as a church mouse. To not worry about making ends meet was liberating in a way Sookie was still trying to fathom. "I work because I want something to do with my time. I won't waitress forever, of course, but it's fine for now. It's also a good way for me to practice shielding my mind. If I am away from people too long, they still fail."
"You can shield your brain from others?"
"Yes, although I didn't really learn until I was a teenager. Shielding still takes concentration and physical contact breaks them down every time. As I said, it's something I need to practice, or it doesn't work at all. Use it or lose it, as they say."
"Interesting," Eric answered. "How does the telepathy work?"
Sookie looked at the couch before motioning to Eric. "We may as well make ourselves comfortable," she said with a small sigh.
The vampire stepped to the side and allowed Sookie to go first. She moved to the far end of the couch, the spot Eric had occupied earlier, and sat cross-legged in the corner, her body angled toward Eric. The old couch dipped under his weight as he claimed the other end.
"I receive thoughts in two different ways," Sookie began, "either in words or in images, or sometimes both at the same time. I guess it depends on how people think in their heads. Some people think very quietly and others broadcast their thoughts clearly. Every single person is unique.
"I can 'tune in' better if I am touching someone, but that doesn't mean their thoughts are any clearer. Unless you understand the context, it's mostly useless information."
Eric nodded his beautiful golden head and Sookie had to force herself to concentrate. Some might consider it strange to think such a prime example of masculinity beautiful, but that's exactly what he was to Sookie. He was beautiful.
"I can see how it would be difficult to interpret the truth behind random thoughts."
"You wouldn't want to hear how often I hear people thinking about committing murder, but to my knowledge, none ever have. People think things all the time they would never imagine actually doing or saying."
The human brain was a gigantic circus, in Sookie's opinion. People took wild rides and flights of fancy all the time. Even a telepath couldn't make sense of the mess of some folk's heads.
Eric was about to reply when a brief knock sounded on the door. It opened a moment later and Sam's tousled head appeared.
"Sorry to interrupt, chere." The look Sam tossed in Eric's directions belied his words completely. "We're kind of swamped out here."
"I'm so sorry, Sam," Sookie sprang to her feet as the apology tumbled from her mouth. "I guess I lost track of time. I'll be right out."
Sam walked away muttering to himself. The door was left open.
"I really need to get back out there," she said. She watched as Eric stood to his full, impressive height. It was the last thing she wanted to do. She found she'd enjoyed the time spent in conversation with the vampire. The silence of his mind alone was a blessing, but it was more than that.
Sookie Stackhouse looked like your average twenty-five year old, but there were big differences between her and most young women her age. For all her beauty and charm, Sookie had never been in a relationship; in fact, the intelligent, vivacious young woman had barely even dated in her life. Her telepathy made it impossible to even consider entering into a physical relationship with anyone. Sookie couldn't even think of holding hands with a date, never mind the physical intimacy that came with sex.
For the first time in her life, Sookie had sat with a man she found attractive and wasn't subjected to his thoughts. Even though she'd never dated, she'd been hit on plenty and knew when a man was interested. Eric Northman, the vampire with devastating looks and a silent mind, was interested in her.
She didn't want it to end, even though she knew she should. Her head had been swimming ever since he'd walked through the door and all Sookie wanted to do was talk to Claudine. Her fairy godmother had predicted this meeting would come to pass. Perhaps she would have some sage advice to offer the telepath.
"I want to see you again," Eric stated firmly.
"You do?" Sookie smiled at Eric, her ponytail bobbing as she unconsciously nodded her assent.
"When are you free again?"
"Tomorrow," she replied automatically before blushing. She didn't want to come across as being too eager. "The next couple of nights, actually. Whenever you want."
"Tomorrow it is," he said graciously, sweeping a little bow her way. He grinned at her as he indicated her hand. "May I touch?"
"You may," she replied with a giggle as she extended her hand.
He took the proffered hand and held it within his own for a moment. The difference in their size fascinated him. He raised her captive hand to his cool lips and pressed a soft kiss against her warm skin.
"Until tomorrow, Miss Stackhouse."
So, what do you think? Is everything making sense here? Next up is their first date.
I'm really sorry if I've missed replying to any of your lovely, delightful reviews, but honestly, there's been way more than I expected. Keep 'em coming, though, and I will try my very best to respond to every one! I once read a story where the writer referred to reviews as candy-coated crack. I didn't understand it then, but I do now. Every single review makes me want to write, write, write.
Thanks again for all your support!