A/N: Okay, a few things.

For those that are confused about, or want to know more about the Temple and its history (I've gotten a lot of questions), this page sums it up nicely: www. touregypt. net / featurestories / templeoforacle. htm (without the spaces - this site goes wonky on links).

For those that have expressed concern that this story is going too far off into fantasy, rather than reality (ha ha), I want to assure you that we will be making our way back to Shreveport and the backwater of Bon Temps. I'm not giving you any more spoilers than that.

Lastly, I had intended to get to the Sibyl this chapter, but Eric got very demanding with me, so she will be in the next one. Oh yeah, there's a song for this chapter (I know some of you are jumping happily at the implications): "The Mystic's Dream" by Loreena McKennitt.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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The Temple of the Oracle rose up from the vast desert like a glistening jewel, perched on the edge of a cliff. It was surrounded by a circular stone wall, upon which the emeralds were embedded, casting the faint green glow. Surprisingly, the intensity of the light remained the same up close as it had far away. It was gentle and warm, almost beckoning me into its embrace.

From above, where Rachal and I hovered, I could make out the shape of the simple stone structure. It was long and rectangular, with a small jut to one side at the front, like the shape of an 'L'. The building was not terribly large, nor ostentatious as one might expect of a temple. It stair-stepped in height from front to back, with a small, open chamber on the roof at the far end.

I felt Eric was near before I spotted the shadowy figure there. Rachal's calming influence was dulling the effect of his emotions through the bond, but I knew his mood had only grown darker in the time since he'd been gone. Anger, denial, despair... they were all present, along with dozens of other flickering and stabbing disturbances, mixing in a twisting knot I felt catch in my own throat. I looked up at Rachal, and for the first time since I'd met her, saw the joy in her eyes slip away. Her gaze was focused toward him on the roof as mine had been, and the sigh that escaped her lips echoed the emotions rippling through the bond.

I felt torn, wanting to go to him, but still afraid I was somehow the cause of his state. I'd never felt anything like this from him, and it terrified me. There was a struggle raging inside him that I couldn't begin to understand, rolling around over and over in an endless cycle of turmoil, spiraling down into a center of darkness I could only describe as... grief. That was an emotion I knew all too well; yet, whereas I would have crumbled under its weight, Eric remained a pillar of strength. His anger was at war with his despair.

Regardless of what the right, or smart thing to do might be, I could not sit by any longer. He may be a Viking, he may be a warrior, a vampire, and a million other things that logic would dictate to stay at a safe distance from (don't feed the bears); but I am not the pragmatic one in this relationship. I'd be someone else entirely if I didn't try.

I silently gestured to Rachal where I wanted to be set down. She hesitated for a brief moment, and I appealed to her with a look, begging her understanding. Her eyes softened and she nodded, gently depositing me on the roof, a bit of a distance from where Eric stood. She kissed my forehead, sending another wave of calm through me, and disappeared down the nearby steps.

I gave myself a moment of pause, drawing in a slow, deep breath. The warm desert breezes caught the edges of my dress, swirling them around my ankles. The expanse of night sky and stars seemed to go on forever, touched only by the sand on the horizon. It was impossible to deny the magick in the air, the gentle currents that seemed to wrap and flow around me, and blanketed the oasis in a veil of serenity.

Eric's back was to me, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning on his shoulder against the open archway. I knew he felt me near, but he did not move. Moonlight and the emerald glow danced along the edges of his silhouette, a vision of perfectly chiseled warrior against the infinite sky.

Though I could not tell the colors in the darkness, I could see the change in his dress. A long, breezy, tunic-style shirt was cinched low on his hips by a criss-crossing belt. His legs were clad in tight pants that might have been doe-skin, tucked into soft boots that had laces wrapping from ankle to calf. I noticed the faint outline of a sword hilt at his waist.

My bare feet carefully found their footholds on the stone roof as I moved slowly through the darkness toward him. I took each step with purpose, allowing him the time to sense my approach, much like one might move toward an injured animal that would turn and strike at any moment. He remained statue still, his voice low and haunting, as I stopped a few paces behind him.

"What do you see, Sookie? What is it you see when you look at me?"

The question surprised me a little, and I faltered for an answer. Should I tell him the mere sight of him made me weak with longing? That I saw my salvation in his eyes? Should I tell him how one look at him could take away all my fears?

As if he could hear my thoughts, he responded coldly, "I am not a hero, Sookie. You see me through false eyes."

Everything in me wanted to protest, to tell him how he had been my hero more than once. He had saved my life, given me strength, and made me feel important. I wanted to tell him how he'd given me more than I ever expected or hoped for from love. I had seen a glimpse of the man behind the vampire when he'd lost his memory, and again the night we renewed our bond. He was strong... honorable... and beautiful. I needed him to hear all this, but for some reason, the words wouldn't come.

"You cling to a shadow of someone who once existed. He is long since dead. It comforts you to believe that he lives secretly beneath the surface, allowing you to rationalize your actions and feelings for me, and I have allowed it. For a time I may have even believed it."

I looked up into his eyes as he turned to finally face me. There was no trace of the brilliant blue in the darkness. His gaze was cold, piercing, and I felt myself instinctively shrinking away from him.

"You are right to fear me, as part of you always has. I have considered killing you many times. Even now, the thought to do so sits in my mind. I could be rid of this weakness you cause in me."

His words did not sting me as they should. I knew this, had known it, somewhere in the back of my mind. This struggle had been with him for a long time, though I only began to recognize it in Rhodes. He'd said we were bound too tightly to suit him. Not long after he'd said he liked it. He'd echoed similar, contradicting sentiments time and time again with me.

Words finally escaped my lips, before I realized they'd even formed in my mind. There was no trace of anger in my voice.

"If I bring you this much sorrow and pain, then do it."

I found I was no longer backing away from him, but rather sinking down to my knees before him. His eyes followed me, intensity growing in his stare. In that moment I realized he had blocked me off from the bond, and I was left with only my own emotions, raw and untamed. Concrete thought had left me, and I was acting purely from a place of instinct, feeling compelled by something deeper than my fear.

Eric's fingers were gripping the hilt of his sword, and in a flash he drew it from its sheath. Brushing the braids away from my shoulder and tilting my head, I presented my neck to him. I did not flinch as he held the point of the cold steel against my flesh.

"You offer your life to me, do you believe that I will not take it?" he asked in a tone as cold as the blade.

"You are a vampire, Eric, not a knight in shining armor. Your very nature is to kill."

My voice was calm, my tone implying my absolute belief he would, indeed, take my life. I did not move as he pressed the point just deep enough to pierce, feeling a slow trickle of blood slide down my neck. He growled faintly.

"Are you afraid?"

"No."

He came down on his haunches then, gripping my chin in his hand to lock our eyes, "Because you do not believe I will do it."

"No... because I know it will release you from what I felt tonight, and from the chaos I have caused in your life."

His fangs flashed, "I do not feel sympathy, you should not feel it for me."

"I do not pity you, Eric. There is no need to."

"Then why, Sookie? Why do you lay your life at my feet?" his voice hitched, the edge of his control drawing near.

I closed my eyes, seeking out the tendrils of the bond, focusing my mind along its depths. I swam through the golden strands that flowed from me, finding my way to the blackness of his shields. They lashed out at me, like cobras striking at their victim, but I would not be deterred. I envisioned the light that flowed from my hands in Romania, gathering it from the corners of my mind, willing it to merge and grow. Forcing my thoughts, and all the emotion behind them, the light broke through the barrier, flooding into him.

Because I love you. Every part of you.

I heard his sword drop and opened my eyes to see him on his knees with me. His hands were trembling. The bond was laid bare and open between us, the veil stripped away. Our thoughts came together as one.

His hands threaded into my hair as his lips sought mine, desperate and hungry. He hovered over me on his knees, bending me back as his kiss deepened, consuming me with his body and mind. His tongue glided from my mouth to the puncture his left by his sword, sending a shockwave arcing through the bond. I felt his bloodlust as keenly as if it were my own, because it was. There was no more distinction between us... my wishes were his... his desires were mine.

His mouth wrapped tightly around my wound, his fangs opening it further. He drew deeply... wantonly... and the more he drank, the more I needed him to take. I felt more alive with every pull, even though the essence of my life was being drawn from me. My moans were his... his growls were mine.

As he laid me down, covering my body with his, he withdrew from my neck with a growl. I did not want him to, and thus he ached with my loss of him. My blood dripped from his fangs across my lips, and I arched with his pleasure as my tongue licked for every spilled drop. His deft fingers quickly freed the laces on his pants, and he slid the layers of my dress up past my hips. There were no underthings to bother with for either of us. My desperation was his... his hunger was mine.

Our rhythm was steady... driving... deeper with every stroke. I found myself commanding his gaze, drowning in the depth of his eyes. It was his desire, his heightened ecstasy, and his need for it became my own. His movements hit my spot inside with every thrust in, and ground into my clit with each pull out. He knew my body like it was his own, and he crested with every wave that crashed over me. We bit, and clawed, and screamed. My cries were his... and his control was mine...

... And we came as one.

TBC