A/N: This chapter is told from Eric's POV, for reasons that will quickly be obvious. I hope you enjoy. As always, thank you for all the support and inspiration!

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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Eric touched down on the balcony of the bed chamber, his sleeping bonded cradled in his arms. The force of will he'd needed to expend, in order to absorb and gain control of the energy that threatened to consume her, had required him nearly thirty minutes and two goblets of blood to recover from. He could not begin to guess how long her fragile, mortal body would need to be at rest. If the amount of time became concerning, he would feed her his blood. For now, however, he would allow her respite, and himself time to seek answers.

He laid her gently on the bed, sliding the thin coverlet over her. His hand brushed the stray braids from her face, and he leaned in to kiss her temple. The sight of her, drifting in peaceful slumber, seized at his chest, tugging and wrenching at the man he'd long since buried. How had it come to this?

He rose with a heavy sigh, drawing closed the bed's gauzy curtains. Rest, Dear One.

The Viking's mind was weary with the weight of his long years. This place haunted him with ghosted memories, ones he had thought drained of significance long ago. He silently descended the stairs to the courtyard below, letting his gaze roam slowly over the vast desert that sprawled into the horizon, touching the eternal night sky. This realm was sacred, a sanctuary from the endless downward spiral of the mortal world, a plane of existence reserved for those touched or favored by the divine. Its space was infinite, its possibilities endless; a gift from the Gods that cradled the faithful, allowing them to find their way once more. It was the crossroads.

Eric settled himself on the ledge of the low stone wall that encircled the courtyard, hooking one heel onto the edge, one arm resting languidly over his knee. The sounds of trickling water from the central fountain relaxed his tense muscles. He inhaled the scents of saltwater and desert air, mingled with the incense that burned from braziers mounted over low burning torches. His eyes closed as he felt her approach from behind, sliding a gentle hand onto his shoulder which he covered with his own.

"It is so good to have you home," Rachal said softly.

Eric's love for her knew no bounds. Until his bonded, Rachal had been the only source of peace in his world, his one true constant. It was because of her that he held onto the few remnants of his mortal life, and the man he had once been. Upon his turning, and the years of learning that followed, she remained here by his side. She nurtured his soul in the face of his death and the hardening of his heart. Though they were of the same mortal blood, he had never known her in that sort of familial sense. Their relationship was not one that could be defined by any human notions or plagued by their mores.

He brought her palm to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on her velvet skin. "It is not the homecoming I would wish for."

She pressed herself to his back, her arms encircling him as they stared into the distance. Her voice remained low. "No, but it is the one you need."

He gently clutched her hands, "If there is reasoning behind this madness, I cannot see it. If Sookie was meant to have such power, why was she not cared for and nurtured from birth?"

"When Niall's son Fintan learned of her fate he chose to hide her away, and we suspect the Prince helped him to do it. Niall is set in his ways, and believes we are all better off hidden from the mortal world. He cares only for the security of his realm," Rachal sighed softly. "Phemonoe believed her line had perished with the freak accident that killed Sookie's parents."

"Accident," Eric scoffed. "I knew from the moment I heard the story that it was no accident, but I could not have guessed its purpose. I suppose Niall and Fintan found it easier to keep her hidden by exerting their influence on the Grandmother."

"I would assume so," she replied. "Some of the creatures in Sookie's ancestry, such as the succubus, cause many of the species to be inexplicably drawn to her. Niall was a fool to think he could shield her forever."

"Perhaps..." he trailed off, allowing the bits and pieces to fit together as a whole in his mind. He now knew that Sookie's abilities first manifested the night after their bond had been renewed, when it was rendered open and complete by their purposeful and desirous actions. The logical conclusion was that the bond, and his blood, had brought something in her to the surface, waking her dormant powers.

"You have not wronged her, Eiríkr. Do not forget that you were chosen. You were part of this tale long before it began. It was meant to happen this way," Rachal said, knowing his mind all too well.

Eric released her hands, rising from the ledge, moving a few steps away as he strained for foothold over his mind. Self-doubt was a feeling most foreign to him, but he found himself sinking into it much as he had when he was first turned. He recalled bitterly how he had been horrified at his new existence, thinking how his mortal servitude was preferable in comparison. The first time he fed had sickened him, and he thought himself truly a monster. These shades of an ancient past now gripped at him once more, his own journey coming full circle. His crossroads were clear; become the demon, or find rebirth.

"How can I begin to help her harness a power I do not pretend to understand?" he said, resignation in his voice.

Rachal moved nearer once more, turning to face him and hold his gaze. "She is unique, Eiríkr, there is no one who can claim knowledge of her abilities or what she may be capable of."

"Even if I succeed in preventing her from simply annihilating herself with her own gifts, what then? To what end?"

"No one knows that, either. You can only trust in your own instincts, which have always served you well. The Gods do not make random choices, you must have faith that by simply being yourself, you will fulfill the purpose you were meant to serve."

He snorted, "You have been with Phemonoe for too long, Sister."

"You have given yourself too much to the selfishness and indifference of the dead," she admonished.

He could not be angry with her, despite the sting and innocence of her words. She did not know his world, nor did he wish her to. She was far too gentle and kind-hearted to be thrown in with the hounds. It would break her, and that, he could never bear. He opened his arms to her, and she sank into his embrace. Eric knew the pain of loss she felt over him, but he could feel no guilt over becoming what he is. Their paths were never meant to be eternally joined. He hummed softly, stroking her hair, a reversal of the roles they once played.

"Phemonoe will not be able to stave off Avel for much longer, Eiríkr," she said softly against his chest.

He placed a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up, "What do you mean?"

Rachal's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Avel believes Sookie to be a lost cause. He wants to keep her here long enough to conceive and give birth to the next in line, and then take the child from her to train."

Eric's brow furrowed. Undercurrents of rage threatened to take hold, but the pragmatist in him rarely gave in to such emotional gut reactions. He released Rachal from his embrace, beginning to slowly pace as his mind rolled over the various scenarios.

It was a given he could not father a child for Sookie, which meant this plan would require another. While this did not sit well with his pride, he would put that aside for the moment to consider the larger picture. A child raised and trained into their destiny seemed far more logical than attempting to gain control over Sookie's abilities. As it stood now, she did not even accept that she was fated for a great destiny. Her stubbornness would be a great hindrance to any attempts Eric might make at guiding her down this path. He had no doubt he would gain her compliance in the end, but it may take far too much time. Time was an unknown variable in this equation, considering the goals were unclear. Was Sookie destined to affect a pivotal moment in time, or would her actions over time culminate in fulfilling her purpose?

There was also the question of her mortality and whether or not he would turn her. Another unknown variable. As a vampire she may have far greater control over her powers, especially with him as her Maker. However, it might also affect the state of their bond, which had now become almost an entity unto itself. Eric had never heard of, nor encountered, a bond of such magnitude. It was only through the bond that he was able to help her control the energy unleashing itself from her. If it were damaged through the turning, the consequences could be dire.

On the other hand, he doubted Sookie would willingly agree to conceiving a child. Her human notions of monogamy would cause her to immediately dismiss the idea, and her ire at the mere suggestion would result in a fit Eric could already hear in his mind. She would be disgusted with him for being open to such an idea. Sookie would push him away, yet again, and then he could not help her to keep control of the magickal battle raging inside of her. She would also be inconsolable when the child was ripped from her arms shortly after birth. Of all these things, he was certain.

Down one path lay many unknown variables, but Eric learned long ago not to fear the unknown. When debating over choices, it is always best to rely on what you can account for. The path Avel proposed would harm his bonded in too many ways, and the ends might be catastrophic.

"No," he stated firmly. "That is not an acceptable solution."

Rachal smiled gently, "I am glad to hear you say that."

"I will deal with the daemon, should it become necessary. When Sookie wakes, I will find some way to get through to her and make her understand that running is no longer an option. She... we... will face this whether she wants to or not."

His voice became more assured with every affirmation of his purpose. Rachal took his hand, giving a little squeeze, her silent vow of support. He regarded her with a tender gaze, cupping her face in his hands, and placing a gentle, chaste kiss upon her lips. It was the only acknowledgment of his love he could afford her now, and he knew that she had accepted this the moment she saw him with his bonded.

"I should go check on Sookie," he said softly, breaking the moment before it could get away from him.

Rachal nodded with a smile, "I will go tell Phemonoe of your..."

Eric's head snapped up in the same instant Rachal abruptly cut off her words. The scent had hit him like a slap to the face. It was one that did not belong in this place. In an instant his sword was drawn, and he pressed Rachal behind him.

"What is it?" she whispered, having sensed a disturbance, but unable to identify it.

Eric snarled, "Shifter."

He moved silently in the direction of the scent, all his senses fully heightened. It was not close, but somewhere out over the rolling dunes. As his vampire speed allowed him to quickly draw closer, he began to distinguish the smells of multiple beings. Shifter... Were... Human... Vampire. His eyes grew wide as he realized the familiarity of each scent.

Floating over the last dune blocking his vision, he saw them. They all appeared unconscious, lying in heaps on the sand. How is this possible?

Eric shook his head in despair, the answer coming to him as quickly as he'd asked it in his mind. Sookie. She had no idea how to direct her thoughts to a singular purpose when they had wished for time to choose a path. Of course she would be thinking of the fates of others over herself. It was her concern that brought them here, he was certain of it. There was no other explanation for this particular group to be here, sleeping on a sand dune in a plane they did not belong. His gaze flicked over each of them one by one.

Pam. Compton. Elana. Victor. Amelia. Dawson. Sam.

TBC