I don't own True Blood.

A/N: A different take on the story of Godric and Sarah. Sorry if my history of events is a little off.

Please ignore any typos, and let me know what you think.

TAGS: ALTERNATE UNIVERSE-DARK, WITCHES, VAMPIRES, SOUL BOND, MAGIC, FERAL BEHAVIOR, TIME TRAVEL, OLD GODS, PAGAN GODS, PAGANISM, PAGAN FESTIVALS, RITUALS, INSANITY, DARK MAGIC, TOUCH-STARVED, LOVE/HATE, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, MANIPULATION, DOMINANT GODRIC. SUBMISSIVE GODRIC, CURSED GODRIC, BLOOD AND GORE.

SARAH

Surprisingly, this event was not what Sarah had anticipated. The witch was taken aback by a sudden, intense agony that seemed to come out of nowhere. She felt an overwhelming anguish that seemed to consume her very soul.

A sharp sound escaped her lips as she felt intense pain coursing through her body, causing her to writhe on the unforgiving kitchen floor. Sharp teeth bit into her tongue, causing her mouth to fill with blood. Sarah released a loud scream and kicked forcefully, causing the ingredients and crystals to topple. The soulspell was a bust! The witch could not provide any other explanations. Overwhelmed by the situation, she succumbed to tears as the earth seemed to disintegrate under her.

An abrupt burst of wind emanating from the dark abyss forcefully struck her, causing her body to convulse and spin uncontrollably as she descended into the infinite chasm. She let out soundless cries as an expanding black emptiness enveloped her.

Through the woman's bulky sweater and shorts, water that was both cold and viscous began to seep in. As water entered her mouth, she struggled to free her numb limbs and gasped for breath, choking in the process.

She broke through the icy water's surface and forcefully coughed, expelling the water from her aching lungs as the intense sunlight dazzled her.

"By the grace of the gods!"

A masculine voice with a refined accent emanated from the right side of her convulsing figure. Frail and afloat in the river, Sarah blinked rapidly before directing her angled gaze towards the unfamiliar individual. An elderly man with short pepper-gray hair stood beside a canvas on the riverbank in front of her. Having engaged in painting previously, he currently stood before her, displaying a look of astonishment, while adorned in garments of white and light blue that enveloped his physique.

Robes?

Was it Greek-style robes that he was wearing? She was certain that he conversed in Latin. Sarah, relying on her lineage and understanding of Cajun French, committed herself to also study the extinct language in order to perform witchcraft. Sarah's grandmother, (Nemae) imbued her with a profound sense of duty towards her education.

"Swim this way, girl!"

The elderly gentleman articulated while aligning his paintbrush with the border of the easel. She complied with his orders, moving through the water at a leisurely pace towards the bank of the river and extending her hand towards his outstretched palm. The witch gave her permission for him to assist her in standing up, but she recoiled in shock at his scandalized gasp as he pulled her out of the water.

"What are you wearing?" Upon observing his countenance, the woman noticed a faint blush extending from his neck to his cheeks. His face betrayed his profound embarrassment. Baffled, she glanced down at herself. Jeans, boots, and a sweater with black and white stripes made up her outfit. The witch directed her gaze back to the man, her brow creased as he deliberately averted his eyes from her legs. He removed his light blue outer garment from his waist and shoulder, and Sarah observed with confused fascination as he enveloped her with it, making a desperate attempt to conceal her exposed legs.

He doted on her, and just before his gentle, deep eyes connected with hers, Sarah let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Are you a nymph?"

Her constrained laughter erupted from her aching throat, and she coughed uncontrollably before responding in Latin with a raspy voice, "Absolutely not."

"The unexpected emergence from underwater is highly uncommon." He cast a dubious glance in her direction.

Sarah heaved a sigh and then nodded her head in comprehension before saying, "I apologize if I scared you. Do you know exactly where I am?"

"Florence, of course."

"Florence, Italy!" Sarah's jaw tightened as her nervousness grew.

"Italia, young one."

Fair enough. She was therefore on the antipodal side of the planet. This was alright. Everything would be alright. She regulated her emotions by taking deep breaths, resolute in her determination to avoid experiencing another panic attack. The older man observed her with eyes that were both perceptive and analytical. She glanced at his attire while adjusting his outer robe tightly around her exhausted body, struggling to breathe.

Please tell me it's still 2019

"What is the current year?" she exclaimed, feeling her pulse tighten as she saw his face adopt a perplexed look and he momentarily recoiled before showing indications of understanding.

"Oh, It is currently the year 401, during the Consulship of Vincentius and Fravitus."

She was engulfed in a wave of anxiety that encircled and squeezed her until her breathing became more rapid. "Is that BC or CE?"

Once more, the expression on the older man's face became perplexed.

"Ab urbe condita?" She questioned in a frantic manner. It was 401 CE, and the recognition that was written on his face caused her to shed tears. She was a great distance away from her home. Sarah suppressed a sob, causing the older man to feel visibly uneasy. He shifted his weight from foot to foot before clumsily embracing her. "Now, there, young one. I will help you."

She sobbed against him, seeking solace in the arms of the kind stranger. Sarah was able to determine that he was a gentleman because she never received a negative vibe from his aura. His disposition was friendly and warm. Even though it was only to a certain extent, the witch immediately came to the conclusion that she could trust him.

He clumsily patted her back, eliciting a laughter from . They remained constant throughout history. With a gentle, white smile, he withdrew himself from her. The man's teeth were exceptionally well-maintained considering his age.

My name is Cassius Artorius. "What name should I address you by, young one?"

"Sarah...I am glad to have met you, sir."

He chuckled and nodded. "Your name is of Hebrew origin."

"I come from a distant land across the sea."

Cassius replied with a quizzical expression, "Where exactly?"

"United States of America."

"And how come you are here now?"

"Magick." The witch provided the older man with a direct and concise reply due to her inability to find the right words. After observing her briefly, Cassius began to hum to himself. "Is this not an awe-inspiring world?"

"Do you have faith in the existence of magic?"

"I hold a diverse array of beliefs." He turned his attention back to his painting, wearing a smile on his face. Sarah gazed at the flawless replica of the river she had recently emerged from. "You have exceptional talent." She praised the man as he stooped down to pack the paint jars into his bag. As he moved around her to clean his brushes in the river's water, her brown eyes observed him.

"Are you willing to accompany me home? My daughters would be delighted to meet their distant cousin from another country.

As Sarah observed him skillfully extracting the paint from the brushes, her jaw dropped. "I have limited options," Conducting another analysis of his aura, she meticulously looked for any indications of dishonesty. It remained clear and gentle. "Certainly, I would be delighted to have the opportunity to meet them."

He turned, giving her a sly smile, and she smiled back. Oh, she was fond of Cassius, for sure. She was certain they would get along famously.

She was positioned towards the mansion, constructed in the Romanesque architectural style. Cassius' dwelling was a one-story edifice with a nearly flat, brown tiled roof, which conveyed a sense of wealth. Nevertheless, the building's scale remained significant. At the center, there was a garden that provided access to the main entrance. This garden was embellished with tables, chairs, fountains, and marble sculptures that fixated their sight upon her. The house's white stone was upheld by robust columns.

"Alba, please make sure that my niece is meticulously groomed and dressed suitably before my children return from their excursion in the city."

It is highly likely that Cassius was referring to Florence. She gazed in the direction of the west to observe the distant city. Based on her accurate historical studies, the commencement of the construction of the second wall would be delayed by another century. Her attention was drawn to the small middle-aged woman standing next to Cassius by the sound of a shocked gasp.

Her pallid hazel eyes protruded from her skull as she scrutinized Sarah's attire and exposed limbs. Alba displayed a gesture of disdain towards Sarah, causing the witch to frown and her facial expression to become more intense in response to the older woman's obvious lack of respect.

"My lord," the woman started, "She bears a striking resemblance to a member of a wildling tribe."

Cassius, with a raised eyebrow, nodded affirmatively and turned his gaze towards Sarah, nonchalantly clutching his small painting and bag.

"Sarah, once you've finished tidying up, join me outside for lunch."

Subsequently, he proceeded to walk away while softly humming a tune. Cassius possessed a lively demeanor for someone of his age. Sarah emitted a sharp, low sound as Alba forcefully seized her arm and pulled her into the house, issuing commands to those who were in motion nearby. They were dressed in plain white robes. Employees? Please don't be slaves. Sarah pleaded silently, conscious of the fact that in this present era, individuals still possessed other individuals lawfully.

In a dimly lit and confined room at the end of a narrow corridor, there was a bathtub containing hot water. As they studied her, a number of women's bewildered looks turned into hands yanking at her damp garments. Her red bra and black underwear piqued Alba's disgust as she examined them closely.

As the hands approached to take off the remaining clothing, Sarah forcefully pushed them aside and retrieved her sweater and shorts from an unfamiliar woman's hold. "I am well-versed with cleaning myself!"

The witch forcefully removed her boots, her face twisted into a scowl as she had to stoop down and pull off her damp socks. Alba tugged at the clothing in her arms.

"Get your hands off!" Sarah's abrupt outburst provoked an irritated glare from the elderly woman. "We should wash them, at the very least. It is not clear to me why you would like to keep them, but you might be able to do so once they have been cleaned."

In response to the woman's condescending tone, Sarah laughed aloud. "You lack the ability to understand." Alba received the insult with greater poise than Sarah ever could. The witch removed the remaining damp garments from her body and gave them to an unidentified woman. Sarah ignored the others and extended her hand to perceive the temperature of the water instead. After determining that the water was tolerable, she promptly entered the bathtub and fully immersed herself.

As multiple sets of hands began to entangle themselves in Sarah's hair, she jerked forward. A group of women encircled her, pouring fragrant oils onto her damp hair, vigorously cleansing her body with oil-infused cloths, while Alba's calloused hands vigorously massaged her scalp and attempted to tame her unruly hair.

Sarah emitted a hissing sound as Alba exerted excessive force on her roots. This woman was an absolute bitch!

The witch turned her head sharply to give the woman a menacing glare. As angry brown seized pale hazel, the hands seemed to become a little kinder, suggesting that the attempt had been successful.

Sarah was a frustrated and embarrassed mess by the time the women surrounding her finished, and when they were removing her from the cooling water, the witch let out a grunt and hastily dried herself with the soft fabric she pulled from waiting hands. While attempting to extract water from Sarah's uncooperative hair, Alba expressed her disapproval with a tsk.

As she turned, she was dressed in pale pink and white robes. Tunica? Regardless. She found the fashion of this era frustrating. Maybe she could persuade Cassius to explain all of these layers when she spoke with him again.

Sarah kicked off uncomfortable sandals when an unknown woman tried to slip them on her feet. Alba sighed disapprovingly once more before trying to arrange her wet hair. Sarah retreated, pivoting to confront the exasperated woman before redirecting her gaze inward, focusing on her self. She was dressed, covered, and thoroughly cleaned. That was adequate.

Disregarding the distressed chatter of the women and Alba's desperate pleas for her to come back, the witch swiftly departed the confined space and hurriedly made her way through the narrow corridor, eventually reaching the exterior by turning around the corner.

She hurriedly exited through the front door to discover Cassius seated in one of the opulent chairs at the moderately-sized table adjacent to the gardens on the left. A pair of young girls, who seemed to be approximately the same age as her, if not younger, encircled the man. They were adorned in a variety of shades of pink, orange, yellow, and white. Both individuals exuded an aura of glamour, characterized by their elegantly styled, voluminous hair.

The young woman standing in front of Cassius had light brown hair and was lighter in complexion than the other. Her facial features included prominent cheekbones, a straight nose reminiscent of Roman aesthetics, and full lips that created a slightly pouty appearance. Additionally, her eyes were dark and had a noticeable sparkle.

While the second girl was not as breathtaking as the first, she was still beautiful. Her hair was a lighter shade, dirty blond, her eyes were slender and intensely black, and her face seemed to be perpetually marked by a frown.

As Sarah approached, Cassius's gentle eyes lifted, and two additional pairs of dark eyes looked up to observe her.

"May I inquire about the location of your sandals?"

He also likely pondered the reason behind her disheveled and damp hair but remained silent.

"Due to their discomfort, I decided to remove them forcefully."

The witch responded nonchalantly, her attention captivated by the young women observing her.

"I trust you did not trouble Alba," Cassius chuckled jovially.

Yes, I did, in fact.

Cassius looked over at his daughters and uttered the words, "My children. We will be hosting your cousin Sarah for a period of time, and I would like for you to have the opportunity to meet her. Sarah, these are my daughters, Caelia,"

With sparkling eyes and a radiant smile, the young woman Sarah first noticed was the one he gestured to.

"And this is Valeria."

The other girl cast a contemptuous and impolite look at Sarah.

The witch displayed a disapproving expression, indicating a lack of harmony between her and Valeria. Caelia, on the other hand, was already on her way to accepting the witch.

"It is wonderful to meet you, cousin!"

Sarah could not help but respond in an awkward manner, "Likewise," as the other girl pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Please come and join us!"

Exuding enthusiasm, Caelia disengaged and grasped Sarah's hand, leading her towards the table. It has already been covered in food and wine. Sarah's mouth watered as she gazed at the assortment of bread, olives, cheese, grapes, and crackers. Caelia eagerly guided the witch to a chair, positioning her across from Cassius. Valeria sat down beside Sarah, regarding the witch with contempt. Sarah gazed at her with a vacant expression, but quickly shifted her attention when someone made physical contact with her arm.

"So, cousin, what region do you hail from?"

Cassius gave a curt nod to Sarah as she extended her hand to pluck a few olives.

"...I'm from across the sea."

After providing her answer, the witch proceeded to bite into an olive, only to be pleasantly surprised by its lack of pit.

"Which land?" Valeria's arrogant tone demanded attention from her side.

Sarah effortlessly responded, "The United States of America." Disinterested enough to avoid making eye contact with the rude girl. "I am not familiar with it. The level of development in its civilization must be low."

It was considered an insult. Sarah, who was mentally tallying the numbers to maintain composure, opted to smile rather than confront Valeria's cutting stare. "Oh yes, it's currently very untame."

Sure enough, it was. America was wild and untamed at the time, and it should have remained so. Prior to being impacted by human avarice, the land was legitimately possessed by the indigenous inhabitants, who were then subjected to the rapaciousness of humans, akin to malevolent entities emerging from the netherworld.

"Are you married?" Caelia inquired, redirecting the witch's attention towards herself. "What's your age?"

"I'm twenty-two years old and unmarried."

"At that age, being single must be tough," Valeria's haughty voice started to sound again.

"Valeria!" Sarah erupted in laughter, abruptly cutting off Cassius before he could utter a word. "At this very moment, the thought of getting married isn't very appealing."

Valeria expressed her shock with an audible gasp, but Caelia paid no attention to her and carried on speaking as a young male, dressed in white clothing, approached the seated Cassius.

"I am presently eighteen years, whereas Valeria is seventeen. If our father consents, we will soon have the chance to enter into matrimony.

Sarah observed with curiosity as the young man with dark hair leaned forward to whisper something to Cassius, and her brown eyes beheld the wise expressions that flashed across his face too quickly for her to decipher.

Eventually, he stood up.

"I have important matters to attend to, ladies. Strive to establish harmonious relationships."

The man cast a significant glance at Valeria before swiftly pivoting and proceeding towards the entrance of his residence, with the male servant following closely behind.

Caelia discreetly waited for her father to move out of hearing range before expressing her enthusiasm to Sarah: "I am eager to assist you in locating a suitable bachelor, dear cousin. May he be a satyr and a wonderful husband where the sheets are."

Sarah was taken aback by Caelia's remark, but then she enthusiastically waved her hands in front of her, as she erupted into hysterical laughing.

"No, no. I'm not in need of assistance."

That's right. Sarah was actively seeking her soulmate, and despite the unsuccessful soulspell, it ultimately guided her to this specific place.

Why?

Valeria stood up and stormed away, yanking the witch out of her thoughts. After a period of quiet, Caelia finally spoke up, saying, "Ignore her. She is a brat."

Sarah subtly nodded as she gazed at the azure sky.

Why was she here?

Upon waking, Sarah was startled and profoundly disturbed by the recollection of her dream. The individual possessed striking mercury-blue eyes, a well-defined square jaw, plump lips that were absolutely kissable, dark brown eyebrows that matched his dark brown hair, and a nose that was slightly wider than ideal but harmonized with the rest of his facial characteristics.

Was that him? Her perfect soul mate—or was it all an illusion she conjured up to forget her isolation? Sarah was exhausted from using her magick on the soulspell earlier in the day, and the early moonlight shining through the closed window suggested that night was not far off. Cassius, her generous host, strongly urged her to rest and suggested that they resume their discussion the next morning.

Sarah rolled over and peered through transparent glass. The witch realized she could not stay in this era and had to find a way back to 2019, to her projects, her home, and her closest friend Rowen. But she was completely unaware of how to achieve that. Sarah leaned back against the cozy bed and closed her eyes, obscuring the moon from her view.

The witch released a satisfied breath as she entered a state of deep meditation, only to be abruptly interrupted by a mental disturbance. Her eyes quickly opened as she sensed the presence of another entity. Sarah wrinkled her forehead in perplexity and suspicion while examining her mind.

There.

Something new and unexpected appeared. Upon closing her eyes and engaging in introspection, she saw a conspicuous golden thread that stretched beyond her own being and established a connection with an entity situated on the other end of the expanse.

Sarah was astonished when it retreated in response to her mental pull before disbelief, perplexity, and rage advanced. She felt a growing annoyance as it prodded and prodded at the thread that united them, driving her completely insane in the process.

Stop that!

Anxiously, she made her demand, delighted to feel the shadowy figure recoil and retreat. However, it quickly reappeared for a second time with a more playful attitude. Sarah's pupils expanded as the dark presence moved around the thread, and then a sinister touch ascended the golden string, eliciting a gasp from her open mouth. It gave off the sensation of a wicked desire.

The more Sarah tried to mentally push the entity out of her head, the more irritated she became by its violent resistance. Realizing the presence was too powerful and losing their mental game of tug-of-war, she huffed and flopped onto her back in frustration. The entity exuded an air of self-satisfaction.

Shut up!

In the midst of her response, she felt it slip down the string and approach the other being. She sensed its mirth reappearing and understood it was mocking her. In an attempt to ward off the evil spirit that was nagging at Sarah's mind, she rolled over onto her side and buried her face in the bed. It was incredibly annoying, whatever it was.