I said I would have the entire story uploaded and finished before summer ended. I told a lie.- G̶o̶d̶r̶i̶c̶ Five-Blues
Hope this giant chapter makes up for that fact I clearly cannot be trusted.

WINN

Like the area of Fangtasia, this part of Shreveport was also mostly industrial. And at two in the morning, was mostly deserted. The ash had covered their clothes. All trying to hastily wipe it away had accomplished was smearing it deeper into her clothes. Eric had told them they had to look human for this meeting with Dr. Ludwig. The goblin.

It was still a slow process for her to come to terms with the fact that goblins existed. What was next, fairies?

Her mind immediately shut down that thought. No. Goblins was already crazy enough. She was just going to keep her thoughts to vampires and goblins.

It should be unsurprising that Eric had clothes fitted for each of them in the back of his trunk in case that ever came in handy. Though, she did wonder why he had clothes for her specifically. It seemed like a line of thought that was uncharacteristic for him. Being in such an isolated area of the city, they had to change out in the open.

But Eric had just insisted that no one was around. Now here she was, hastily changing behind a dumpster in an alleyway, with Godric and Eric together and some ways off. Without a doubt they were already done having changed at a supernatural speed while Winn was still wrestling with her skinny jeans.

She felt up the garments and wrinkled her nose. What on earth had he picked out for her? With a frown she put it on, having nothing else to fall back on. Eric had made it clear they had to look human, and drive their car to this area like a human. Dr. Ludwig was extremely paranoid, and liked to fit in with her surroundings as much as possible. The first sign of anything suspicious in her own quarters and she would disappear.

She put on the loose beige pants. And a white blouse with wooden buttons and frilly shoulders. Winn had become a middle ages peasant. With Eric there was always an intention, but she wasn't quite sure what to make of this one. So why had Eric come with such an outfit that felt so out of place for the twenty-first-century? If Godric had thrown this at her she would understand. It was an odd choice. And maybe she'd never get an answer behind the angle Eric was playing.

Eric threw all of their ashy clothes in the back he slammed the trunk shut. "We all need to be on our best behavior, now. Rumour has it Dr. Ludwig has a certain little minion that we have to go through first in order to gain her trust. If we don't have that trust, we will never find Dr. Ludwig."

Winn had a feeling Eric wanted to befriend Dr. Ludwig for more long-term plans, and not just finding out what this ash was.

The industrial door groaned as Eric pushed it to the side, allowing them inside. He closed it with a bang. Winn squinted as her eyes adjusted to the dark. The only source of light was from some windows high above, but with the upcoming rainclouds, it was getting darker by the minute.

"Welcome." A male voice said from across the giant warehouse area. Everything was entirely unfurnished in here except for a small coffee table, and then two sets of chairs in the middle of the room.

The man was as tall as Eric, but broader built. His jet black hair was long, brushing his shoulders. From afar his eyes seemed as dark as his hair. Was this the goblins minion they were talking about?

"Turenne." Eric huffed in frustration. Great, so the minion was known in some capacity. The longer Winn spent in the supernatural world, the more of a bad omen it was she realised, to be on Erics radar. It didn't ever seem to be in anyones favour to be known by him.

There was a drink on the table in a red clay cup. It was clear and odourless. Yet she had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't water. And a moment her thoughts were confirmed.

"What a merry little group we have here." Turenne said. "But alas, I only need to speak with one of you. I'm sure you've heard of a Cathagian Parameter?"

Her brows knit together while both Godric and Eric gave a grudging, non-verbal acknowledgement.

Turenne caught her expression of confusion. "Oh darling. Not to worry. Its only . . .well, there's only enough in that cup for one person," he said, outlining the grooves she saw indented into the floor that went around the concrete in a perfect pentagram, "A gift from me, to you."

His face was too kind and enthusiastic and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why?"

"Because we're so often blinded to the truth. I'm just here to help with the gift of sight."

Eric sighed heavily. "We need a moment to decide."

Turenne lifted his hand in a flourishing moment. "Very well. Once you have decided you can take a seat." He said, before moving into the pentagram and sitting on one of the two metal chairs.

If she had entered this place without Eric or Godric she would have been convinced this was an interrogation chamber. And not the kind where just words were used.

She crossed her arms as the two discussed heatedly amongst themselves. Right. Of course she wasn't involved. Godric had it more than clear to her that she wasn't strong enough to continue pursuing a life that involved supernatural elements and uncertainty.

It pained her more than she wanted to admit. How was she going to pursue the Vampire when the two ancients in front of her had told her she was weak? It stung.

But she could be strong enough. She could.

She'd show them that she was capable. And so she walked over to the table, glancing and Eric and Godric who were in her periphery. Neither had noticed her yet.

So she threw the drink back, ready to choke on its acidic content. The only sign it wasn't water, was its acute bitterness. She stepped into the pentagram. For a split second she froze, waiting to combust into flame or something of the sort.

But she felt nothing, and then - "Oh."

She blinked rapidly but the lights had dimmed, and then gone out. She stumbled backwards slightly in shock. There was a small hiss behind her from one of the ancients.

"Relax darling."Turenne said. "Brave little human, aren't you? Come here, follow my voice." He coaxed.

But she refused to move. Everything had become pitch black. Liquid black spanned the entirety of her eyes, replacing her bright green iris's. Behind her Godric and Eric were murmuring to each other, too low and fast for her to understand anything.

"Winn do not do this." Godric's voice was strained. "Come here, follow my voice. We will sort this out."

Now she did move, but instead she turned around to face where Godrics voice was sounding from. She took a small step forwards. Intuitively, she knew she had to remain inside of the pentagram. "No." She replied with a strong voice. "And you can't touch me. Not with this boundary."

There was a long pause; a stunned silence. Her words seemed to sink for for him before turning into a gut punch as he realised her implication. She was afraid of him. He had placed his hand on her and tried to control her.

"You know the rules, Vampire," Turenne said sharply, "You can't reach out over this barrier."

Another long pause. Turenne spoke again with impatience, "Tick-tock."

"Winn . . . Please." Godric whispered. "Let us talk. This - all of this does not matter."

"I can do this." She said. And she hated herself for how small her voice sounded, like a child convincing their parent they were good enough.

"I know." He said quietly, voice pained. There was another pause and Winn thought he was done speaking. Just as she was about to move, he added, "He will try to manipulate you into giving away information. You no longer have the ability to lie. Whatever happens, it is not your fault."

She turned around and took small steps forwards, listening to Turenne's inane words to help her find her way to the chair, hands spread out in front of her. She was going to do more than try. She could keep up. She could keep up with the world. She had too.

Finally she found the chair and maneuvered around to sit down. She bit the corner of her lip, unsure what was next. Losing her sight was terrifying.

"What's your name, human?"

Great. Was it really that obvious? Out of an instinctual distrust she tried to use a fake name but a warning, phantom pain that felt like acid in her veins stopped her. Godric had said she couldn't lie. But surely . . .?

As she tried to give a fake name she inhaled sharply in pain. It gripped her like a vice.

Turenne gave a small laugh of amusement. "My, aren't you a paranoid one. What's so special about your one little name?"

"My name is Winifred Vik." She spit out.

"Very good. I'm not here to hurt you, Winifred Vik. I'm just here to ask you a few innocent little questions on behalf of Dr. Ludwig." He said. She got the feeling his questions weren't innocent at all.

"You came in here with Eric Northman and Godric the Gaul, did you not?"

That seemed like a simple enough question. Was this like a lie detector test where they measured your base response first?

"I did."

"And what is your relationship to Eric?"

"I work for him." She was getting paid for a job she had done, and she wouldn't be able to continue getting the money if she left him. That qualified as a job and working for him.

"And what sort of work does that entail?"

Coming to Dallas. Nearly getting killed on multiple locations. Being pushed into becoming a bloodbag for an ancient vampire. Nothing out of the ordinary. "All sorts of work."

"Mr. Northman works in a bar, called Fangtasia, does he not?" He asked.

"He does."

"And does 'all sorts of work' entail normal bar duties such as say, working behind the bar?"

"I've never worked behind the bar before." She had to admit.

He hummed at that revelation. "Well you don't sound like the traditional sort of help. I'm curious, how do you become employed by Mr. Northman, whe you don't even help the business he runs. As far as I know he's quite the savvy individual. Somehow, your story isn't adding up."

Oh damn. Wherever he was leading her was a destination she couldn't end up at. Somehow she had to change the course of his questioning, or evade his answers. "I alleviate his boredom. I don't back down easily."

Turenne chuckled. "You must be very . . . persuasive then."

His intonation made it very clear what sort of persuasion he was speaking of. She snorted. "If I was able to keep a thousand year old creature entertained by my sheer sexual prowess then I may as well demand payment for it."

His chair scraped across the floor as he pulled it closer to her, and she tensed. She hated not having her sight.

"Mr. Northman cares about you."

"Is that a question?" She snapped.

"Hmm . . . No." He was taking great glee out of this situation. He was toying with her like a cat toys with their prey. Though she didn't believe it was because she was anything special, rather every question seemed directed at the vampires behind her. For a fleeting moment she saw herself getting up and leaving, unable to handle this interrogation in which she had no hope of lying her way through.

"Mr. Northman will forget our paths ever crossed in a few years time. I am a mortal. I will whither and decay and become a part of this earth once again. Eric doesn't adhere to time the way I do." Her words were harsh, and she meant every one of them. There was nothing more to say on the subject. "Now are you going to keep asking stupid questions or is there a point you're trying to make?"

There was a pause. And then the chair scraped closer. His knee touched hers and she inhaled sharply. Turennes voice was dripping with glee. "You can't cross the boundary, Vampire."

Who was he talking to? Eric? Godric? Her lack of sight was disorientating, and her imagination to fill in the gaps was plunging her into a chasm of overthinking.

"You said Eric employs you for various work."

"Haven't we been over this?"

"How did you end up meeting the elusive Godric of the Gauls?" He asked.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and shrugged. "Eric was following a false lead in Dallas."

"And he took you, a simple human, along with him?"

"I suppose he did." She answered warily.

"So you could say that Eric took you to meet Godric, then?"

"That's debatable."

His voice was a low whisper, and she felt his breath fan her face. But she couldn't get away, having already leaned back into her seat the second she had heard the scrape of his chair. "It's a yes or no question."

"Yes." She answered through gritted teeth. Yes, because Godric had told her the very same when they had driven together.

"Now you know what I find interesting?" It was a rhetorical question. "Why you are still together with him, and why he is still here with you. In fact this little trio is fascinating to me. Ancient creatures as so isolated from everything. Besides working at Fangtasia, why are you still with them - what is Eric employing you to do for the Gaul?"

Her mouth stayed shut, which was in itself a truthful answer, wasn't it? Nothing in the rules say she couldn't answer with silence. Until the pain shot through her veins, feeling like the molecules in her bloodstream and muscles were falling in on each other. Damn. Damn Turenne. The question very clearly asked her what Eric was paying her to do for Godric. And she had accepted his money - was still accepting his money.

"He's paying me to be a donor for Godric." She hissed and then breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the pain ebbed out of her body like the ocean waves retreating.

"The Gaul has not done it yet, has he? You don't carry the stench of a marked mortal. Why is it then, that Godric is so keen on you? He is not the type to pursue fruitless endeavours."

Her leg began tapping against the floor. She couldn't lie and say her blood was special, that he was like a fly to honey. Because her blood wasn't special. In fact it was the most common type in the entire world. She didn't attract vampires like Sookie did. He couldn't say that he had some sort of interest in her, some compassion for her. Because she could barely approach that subject herself, and was spending her time forcing herself to believe that it was only a fleeting interest. "Because I tried to save his life."

"Oh! Oh. Ohhh. Tried to save his life, you say?" He had hooked onto her words like a fish on bait. And whatever she had said she shouldn't have. Even if she was forced to answer his words. Whatever interest he had in Godric was not something she wanted to help him with.

"He's immortal and powerful. You seem to already know that. And you know I'm nothing but a weak mortal. It's impossible for me to save him."

"Hmm . . . Yes. What possible situation could you have been in to try and save him?"

"There was an explosion in Dallas. You can find the tragedy all over the news, that's no secret." She said.

"Yes, yes, it was quite violent, wasn't it?" He speculated. "So why is it, then, that you decided to try to save him?"

"He-" she gagged as her throat closed up. He may have been the closest person to her as a fact. But she hadn't tried to shield him for that sole factor, had she? Turenne was enjoying this. Whoever he was, he knew Godric. It was clear they were not on friendly terms. Although she had a sneaking suspicion that for Godric, Turenne did not matter to him at all.

"Oh, darling. Cat got your tongue? Well I can't blame you. He is rather handsome, isn't he? Is that it? Are you attracted to him?"

Anger shot through her veins. She hated knowing that in her obscured vision, Turenne probably wasn't catching her anger. Or maybe he was. And it made this entire interrogation all the more savoury. But it was an object question to an extent, wasn't it? He was attractive.

"Yes."

"Have you ever acted on your attraction?" He put a hand on her knee and her muscled tightened as her discomfort soared. "You wouldn't be the first."

"I have." She ground out.

"And are you . . . Emotionally invested in the Gaul?" He whispered. She knew where he was going, and she knew this was just a mocking question before he asked her questions too detailed for her to evade from. He was about to get off on forcing her to detail what she had done to him. Something he had no business in asking.

"I'm emotionally invested in him; you're emotionally invested in him . . . Perhaps more so. Jealous I touched him when you couldn't Turenne? I bet you wish he was in here instead with you, bet you wish its his leg you're touching now." Her own chair scraped across the floor as she closed the remaining gap between them, her hand reaching down to move the chair leg. Her free hand reached out, and slid his hand further up her leg, closing the physical gap between them.

"What a sharp tongue." He mused, his chair creaking as he even leaned closer, thrilled at the game she was playing now. Her hand crept to the holster on her leg.

She took his small distracted to reach for the knife and whip it forth, hitting his inner thigh. His hiss of pain made her feel bad. She had dug it in too deep by accident. All she had wanted to do was use it as a warning. But she shouldn't feel guilt for this goblin-thing in front of her. She knew she shouldn't.

"My tongue isn't the only sharp thing I carry." She said, and was glad that her voice didn't waiver. Then he laughed in delight. Relief washed over her, glad he hadn't decided to defend himself against her own display of violence. Without sight she could do nothing more than this.

"Apparently not." He said, and leaned away from her, acquiescing. "I do see now their interest in you, little human. I'm sure in their long immortal lives your spark is enough to give them a welcome reprieve from their endless darkness. At least, for a while."

She stayed silent. Like she had back at the Authority. Him, Roman, anyone else, they always seemed to try to leverage intimidation of silence to force the other person to speak. She wasn't going to allow herself to fall for it.

Turenne sighed. "Alright. As I said before, I'm not here to harm you. But please, allow me to give you a more gentlemanly introduction."

Her eyes narrowed. "If I do, will this be the end of this? We can get up and leave and talk to Dr. Ludwig."

"Of course, my darling. I would never renege on my word. If you could move your beautiful Neck Knife, that would be much less distracting for me. My own blood seeping from this wound is distracting me. Although, so is that knife. What a beautiful handle. Haven't seen them in production for centuries. I do love a girl with taste." He rambled.

She bit her tongue for a moment. "Fine."

As he slipped his hand into hers she automatically tried to tug her hand back, but forcibly relaxed it right after. He brought her knuckled upwards, and felt his lips gently brush across her knuckles. "Gentle like the summer breeze, sweet as honeysuckle, and bright like the leaping flames from a pyre, the pleasure of having met you is all mine, Ms. Vik." His breath caressed her, too hot for her liking. "If you are ever back in Shreveport, allow me the honour of escorting you around."

"Sure." She mumbled uncomfortably.

"So by your own account, none of you pose a danger to Dr. Ludwig." Said Turenne, his voice going back to a business-like manner.

By her own account? "No."

Turenne's chair scraped across the floor as he stood up. "Very well. You may speak to her then." A moment later he was back and he lead her hand to a cup. "Drink this."

Upon Eric and Godrics silence she figured it was safe to drink and took a long sip. Almost immediately her vision began to come back. At first everything were just a bunch of blurred shapes, but at least there was light again. She knew she now hated the Cathagian Parameter and she hated Turenne. The entire supernatural world was all about power play in one form or another. And it was exhausting to play.

When she could finally see again, Turenne had slipped out of the room. Only Eric was there. Another door was wide open. "According to Turenne's aggressive little finger jab, we can find Dr. Ludwig about that way." Eric said.

She looked around. "Where's Godric?"

"If he comes as he is now, he'll have the goblin running for the door screaming." Eric replied, beginning to walk down the long windowless hallway. His steps had slowed to match her own.

"He wouldn't hurt her, would he?"

Eric shook his head. "He doesn't have too. When he gets like this . . . Most supernatural creatures within our vicinity will feel his power."

Her brow furrowed. "What happened?"

"You happened." His voice sounded distant. And she didn't know what to make of it. "Though, his reaction was predictable. But everything had to happen the way it has tonight. Your action with the knife, however was a surprise. Well done."

She was so startled by his praise she stopped moving for a beat, before quickly catching up again. "What are you talking about?"

"You weren't happy with how Godric treated you. Consequently you were going to do something impulsive, something to prove yourself. You always do." He held the door open for her. "Turenne was born sometime in the Eighteenth Century. He never really did get over his . . . Passion of the time."

"You . . . You dressed me up knowing it'd peak his interest?"

"Knowing," he corrected, "That you'd end up getting questioned by your own will, and he'd go easy on you. And of course I was right. His questions were entirely directed towards you."

He handed her back her gun. "Dr. Ludwig demands a questioning from her supernatural visitors to gauge their level of trust. Its understandable, with her dangerous clientel. And Godric and I couldn't well give away our secrets; though I'm sure her or her lackey would have been thrilled to have information to leverage against us."

The weight of the gun was a welcome reprieve, much better than the uneasy lightness of the knife. "And the knife?" She asked.

"Keeping you in character. Modern guns don't belong in the past." Eric said.

She bit her lip and looked at him from the corner of her eye. It made her uneasy, how well he knew her now. Yet she couldn't say the same about him. Without question she had followed his intention with her from the very beginning - and she hadn't even noticed.

"Godric is one thousand times better at me in nearly everything. But he doesn't temper well with humanity." He offerd a sly smile.

"He's learning." Her answer was careful. She didn't understand this sudden reversal in his personality. Never had he told her anything beyond a sliver of information she needed to survive.

"He's two-thousand years old." Eric answered.

"He wants to understand us."

"I took you as an idealist, but I see I've mixed that up with naïveté." He murmured.

"So what, he can never learn?" She bit out harshly.

Eric stopped right outside the final door that would lead them to the Goblins room. He held the handle and looked back at her, and for once she saw compassion in his eyes. Maybe it was for her, maybe it was for Godric. Maybe it was for the both of them. For whatever was between them was doomed from the beginning, like a rose trying to blossom in the desert. "I'm saying that he'll break you before you ever broke him."

"No. He won't." She answered resolutely; still, her last word faltered. She felt the ghost of his hand on her throat. Saw the cold wrath in his eyes.

Eric remained calm, not a hint of the usual impatience he had with her creeping into her voice. "He was taught that for something to survive, it must be broken first. Then reshapen to thrive in a cruel environment. He may believe he has evolved. But he's still a vampire who has survived two millennia."

Before she could answer he had swung the door open. And as he strode in to greet the Goblin she was frozen in the hallway, the breath having been pushed out of her by an invisible force. She swallowed thickly before trailing in after him. Was she hopelessly in over her head? Was it only her sheer naïveté, as he said, that was ensuring she spent time with Godric?

For the first time Eric had been calm with her, like he had acted with her before she had met Godric. After that he had turned colder, more impatient with her. She hadn't even realised it until she had been reminded of the contrast again. Had he been doing it for her? Had he been trying to teach her something in how cold he was acting towards her? What did he know about his maker that was entirely unaware of? Her stomach rolled with unease. But she pushed it down. Finding out what that ash was, was her main priority.

Eric and Dr. Ludwig had already launched into a conversation by the time she sat down into the close compacted room with books and various odd items she'd expect to find in an taxidermists office. The goblin eyed her up and down and snorted. "A human. Hmph." Was all she said before continuing her talk with Eric.

She didn't look like anything her imagination had allowed her to run off with. In fact she looked perfectly human. Except that she was indeed, very short. Then again, vampires could look very human to the untrained eye.

The first ash sample was slid across the table. Ludwig examined it for a moment, before looking up, unimpressed. "That's quite a bill you're racking up to show me some ash that was lit on fire by some human hicks with gasoline."

Eric made a noncommittal sound. "I figured. Its from a library. It's this, that holds much more interest for me."He took out the second ash sample. The book. He pushed it towards her.

Her eyes widened in fear as she recoiled. Her chair fell to the ground as she stood up. "Where in the hell did you get that?"

"From inside the supernatural library. Fourty-five minutes from here." Eric said.

"No. No." She lamented, shaking her head, "I won't have any part of this. You hear me? That's magic I'm not touching."

Eric stood up at the same time Winn did. "Tell us what it is." He demanded, crossing his arms tightly across his chest as he watched her pack up her bag with haste.

"Unholy is what that is. I can feel the power still in the bare bones of the ashes from here. How dare you bring blood magic into my presence." Her voice was shaking as she nearly ran out of the room. "Ancient power like that - you all can stay away."

Winn felt the thrill of fear go up her spine from Dr. Ludwigs terror alone. If some mystical goblin with supernatural clientele felt terrified, then she should too. She just didn't know why. And neither did Eric. He growled. "And that damned book can't tell us anything anymore either."

"So what do we do now?" Winn asked.

He shook his head. "I don't know. But its a threat to my area. Whatever the hell it is that's happening."

But Winn felt the disappointment too. She hadn't wanted to give away any information, but she had . . . And had it all been for nothing?

After swiping the ash off the table and shoving it back into his jacket, he began walking out the same door Ludwig had fled from, though he wasn't pursuing her. Outside he turned around sharply adjusting his leather jacket. "I need to get to Fangtasia. Check up on some things. Godric's still here. You're safe. For now." He said. Before she had time to speak he was gone.

Apprehension overwhelmed her. It shouldn't, but only a few hours prior she had been made acutely aware of another, darker side to him. She had seen it back at the Authority. But it had never been directed towards her.

Shoving her hands into her peasant pockets she began wandering around the apartment complex reluctantly. Jess had been frantically texting her while she was gone about some personal problems, and begging her to come meet her at Merlottes. But it would only be polite form to meet with Godric first, wouldn't it? Was she going to tell him about the freak-out about the ash? But if Eric had left him to go to his club, then the information probably wasn't life and death at this very moment. Later however . . .

GODRIC

With utter determination he had stopped his pacing and ended up outside this alley that smelt of damp cement and the faint but putrid smell of garbage from the cans some distance away. Feeling her disgust and unease towards the goblins apprentice had him aching to get rid of the negative source of her emotions. None of them had needed to speak it, for they all knew of this interrogation technique. But Winn hadn't known the week long of all-consuming pain she would have been in had he dared cross the line of the pentagram. So he had left, shot up into the sky for a few minutes. Only when he felt her relief did he know that Turenne was finished. Goblins aged slow. And the day would come when he would rip Turenne limb from limb, if he believed that placing his Claiment through such a situation was consequence free.

Never had he responded so much on the emotional whims of anyone. A vampire was in control of his emotions. He had been taught that by his Master, and as Erics Maker, he had passed that on to him. And he knew Eric was passing that on to his own Progeny. But everything felt like it was being dictated by how Winn felt.

Somewhere he knew this was a long-delayed form of karmic justice. Even when he didn't focus on her, there was a constant undercurrent of anger, fear, despair, and heart-quenching sorrow that had her forming such an icy wall he couldn't penetrate it. No, it was more than karmic justice, it was punishment for him.

He had long wondered what the afterlife had in store for him - if such a concept existed. Now he knew there was, except this world was his living, breathing afterlife. It wasn't feeling like heaven, which would have surprised him, he supposed. After all he had done, hell was a more suitable destination for him.

But with the way she had sought his blood, he had been able to feel everything she did. And oh the olds gods knew, he had strained against every ounce of self-control he had, but in the end he had begun losing the battle as his hands had found her pliant body. The way her body had writhed on him as she had consumed his very life force . . . Gone was her guarded reservation with him to be replaced with desperate need. And how he was more than willing to cater to her needs.

Though he couldn't give her what he so desperately wanted . . . but he could give her what she so desperately sought: the craving to feel strong. The ability to stand against anywhere who tried to harm her. The ability not to jump at her own shadow and sudden sounds. She wanted to feel safe, and she wanted to feel that through a reliance on her own strength.

He breathed a laugh without amusement. What a beautiful irony. Millenia old, feared by most, the rest at the very least feeling intimidated. An arsenal of weapons, physical strength and mental cunning to make him outlast and win against anyone who dared defy him or usurp him. And it was all useless against this one human. Because he couldn't fight against trauma. He couldn't defend her family against an enemy who had already struck. But he could teach her how to fight.

With over two-thousand years of expierence he could teach her the art of deception, of manipulation, and utilising herself to become an extremely capable fighter. He could teach her how to utilise every weapon that humanity had invented with deadly precision. And gods, if she allowed it, the art of seduction.

Nimble fingers hesitantly gliding over his tunic, before slipping under; fire combined with ice. Her lids would become heavy as her eyes became laden with desire. Supple, pliant body would melt into him. He would explore every inch of her body, kiss every single freckle that marked her body like an explosion of constellations. Instead of the soft mewling and gentle cries of his name that escaped her lips sweeter than any blood he had tasted in the darkness of night when she slept, they would not be from forgettable dreams. And with those thoughts he almost pulled her towards him then. He would coax her into the state he wanted. Every scent he had come to love about her: her blood, her hair, her very scent would saturate the air and envelope him.

With that thought his gums ached as he struggled to keeping his fangs in place. She had once complained he never showed emotion and she couldn't possibly begin to understand his thoughts. He could never form the words to tell her that if he began showing her his true desires, he would never be able to stop. Men and women alike, both mortal and vampires, had fawned over him; some had even pledged their life. He never reciprocated their feelings, mostly due to utter apathy. And now the situation had reversed itself, with his mortal struggling to reciprocate affections.

Here he was claiming a human, here he was teaching her - albeit slowly - millennia of learned tricks to her that he had closely guarded to his chest; was allowing her to throw orders at him without repercussion . . . And did it all really matter when he had to act so very painfully neutral with her? He had a sharp suspicion in the beginning that she feared intimacy, that she feared vulnerability. But her emotions confirmed it for him. With her own terror reflected back at her, she would never take any confession he gave her as a truth. However, he had a silver tongue, and he could persuade her to trust him, to allow every part of her being to be his and his only.

But every time he opened his mouth to let the golden words flow from his tongue like honey he was himself unable to. It felt like it was a game of falsities, and he didn't want anything more than what was so very real.

Like she seemed to read his thoughts her eyes darted towards him, beautiful and radiant as the evergreens in winter encased in shadows. She began walking towards him. Rain fell from the sky. He caught her every movement, from the gentle sway of her hips to the subtle swinging of her arms. Her shoulders were pulled tight from stress; both from a prolonged stress and from an increasing anxiety that he was angry with her. But of course he wasn't angry with her, he never could be. Worried yes. And frustrated nearly always with her inability for self-preservation. But angry? Never. He ached to placed his hands on her soft skin and massage every muscle she had until she melted beneath him.

A drop of water splashed onto the tip of her delicate nose. Pressing her lips briefly together like she did every time she was nervous she looked up at him.

"You left." She stated. Of course she was waiting for him to elaborate, like she always did. He wanted to tell her everything he knew for all of eternity, but . . .

"Winn." He said, and as quickly as his lust had appeared it disappeared to be replaced with a deep shame. For a moment he saw himself dropping onto his knees, begging for forgiveness like humans often did. His own Son had done so on multiple occasions. Funny. He had never done such a thing let alone have it as a passing thought. "I pushed you too far tonight. Never should I have laid my hands on you like that." His eyes slid down to the ground, ashamed of himself, and the next words came out before he could stop them. "Sometimes I begin to remind myself so much of my own Master I fear I never escaped his hold after all. Time has not released me from these shackles."

Her eyes widened in shock at his sudden confession, before filling with compassion. Always brimming with endless compassion for others. He ached for how little she had for herself. She took a small step forwards, and she was within arms length for him to pull her close and-

"I do not expect you to forgive me." He interrupted his own thoughts. He full well meant it as well, as he meant every word he spoke to her. Eric had made it more than known through their bond he disagreed with his handling of her, though without intending too. Never had he seen Eric more torn between his loyalty then and there. As to why his Son had spent so long playing at apathy concerning Winn was something that was a troubling, growing thought. Insofar there had been no sign of disobedience from Eric. But the fact he had missed such a large key factor in Erics emotions meant he was missing out whatever he was playing at. That concerned him more. As soon as he could, Godric needed to find out what goal Eric was pursuing before he did something unforgivably rash in good intention. For now, his entire focus was on Winn.

A small crease appeared between her brows like it always did when she began thinking deeply. Winn's mind raced through multiple realisations and modes of analysis. Her sharp mind and humility to learn from her mistakes would make her an excellent vampire. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Why did you do it?"

It was his turn to take a small step forwards, closing the distance just a little more. He looked down at her. "Because I could never glamour you. I want you just as you are. But I am a selfish creature, as it turns out, and I ensared you with my own troubles. You know how fragile you are, but I do not think you know just how tough you truly are. No one has defied my orders with the stubbornness you possess; it frustrates me how careless you step out of the lines that are placed specifically for your safety. Although," he couldn't help the slow creep of a smile on his lips, "You are either one of the bravest or most reckless person I have had the pleasure of knowing."

There it was. The blush that seared her cheeks and made her mouth-watering scent bloom. "Or both." She answered, growing a little breathless at the close capacity she found herself in. But what he had done to her wasn't going to disappear any time soon, and she grew introspective.

A long silence crept between them as he saw her deep in her thoughts. Feeling her emotions, now growing duller as the time between her blood receival had lengthened, did not able him to become a mindreader. But he knew that apprehension she felt was entirely directed towards him.

Pressing her lips together her eyes flashed up towards him. She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut, cheeks growing heated with embarassement.

"Ask." He said gently.

She swallowed. "I want to touch you. But - . . . " She faltered.

"I won't move. I won't touch you." He supplemented quickly. He had stolen control for her. For her, in her fragile human state, he had stolen control. All he had set out to do, was let he know her place in the world, that he was there to protect her. But the vampire inside of him had been more than pleased with the way she had navigated the circumstances he had placed her early - which was a new phenomenon in and of itself to him; his instincts should have been furious at her tactic defiance.

There was another moment of hesitation as her eyes flickered over his face, waiting to catch a sardonic expression on his face, or something else inauthentic at his words. When she found none her shoulders lowered a fraction.

Raising her hand she seemed unsure of where to start. And so she began by allowing her fingers to brush against the border of his sweater and chest. Her fevered heat seeped through just through her lightest touch. Her touch remained light, gaining courage as her fingers traced over his skin. He kept his mouth shut. She would move at her own pace.

Her expression was curious, with the hint of determination that always seeped into her expression when she was trying to solve something. Occasionally her cheeks would flare up with a thought, and his lips parted, struggling to keep silent. He wanted to know why she was blushing - what thoughts did she have?

The rain kept its light downpour, darkening the alleyway further. No one was around for at least a mile. Her hair was plastered, framing her face and obscuring her neck. There was only a sliver of space between them. He couldn't help but focus on the sound of her pulse, hearing as it sped up a fraction. Between her hair he could just see the winding blue river filled with life. Her life. Her blood that smelled more enticing than anything he had ever encountered. It was the smell of -

His thoughts stopped in his tracks as her fingers slipped beneath the sweater and his eyes snapped back to her. Then she stopped as that same hesitation came back, but he knew what she wanted in before he could stop himself the sweater had been discarded at lightning speed. Winn controlling the situation was becoming all too enticing the longer she explored.

She blinked in surprise. But she stayed silent. Her palms splayed across his chest. One hand traced the tattoo lightly with her nails. Her head cocked slightly to the side, unconsciously exposing her neck. His thoughts ran away from him, kissing and nipping every exposed expanse of her neck. Biting through her flesh. It wouldn't hurt. He would ensure it. But he was broken out of his thoughts as her fingers had dipped just beneath his pants, right where his hips grew narrow.

"Winn." He hissed. She was testing his restraint now, torturing him with her touches that were innocent as the devil.

Her eyes flashed up now, looking at him through her long lashes. "Does this affect you so much?"

His voice had groan hoarser. "You affect me more than you know."

She didn't seem wholeheartedly convinced. And before he could stop himself he had stepped forwards so that she was pressed against him, her body aligning with his. If she didn't believe it now, then he would show her until her voice grew hoarse. He would show her until she lost herself in his touches. No. He couldn't touch her. Not more than he had already done, ruining his own promise of not touching her. His erection pressed against his abdomen, and it seemed to take her by surprise. And a part of him wanted to laugh, because how - how could she possibly not understand what she did to him. But she didn't move away from him.

"I'm sorry with what I said in there." She said, her voice softer. Her hand trailed upwards, up to his neck; her thumb ran across his jaw. If he had been human he would have had to strain to hear her over the rain.

"What?"

"About you to Turenne."

"That doesn't matter to me." He said quickly. He wasn't interested in talking about the goblin.

Her thumb ran across his lower lip. He let his fangs slip free, peaking out behind his lips.

It was three in the morning in an alleyway in an industrial district of the city. The chance for anyone to come through here and interrupt them was incredibly low. Still, he had to dispel the growl of frustration at the mere through of an interruption.

As she pulled back he had to placed his hands behind his back to keep them from shooting out and gripping her supple hips and pulled her close. He was already straining against his jeans, an obvious step in showing her how much she affected him. He wanted to flash over to a wall with her and pulled her atop of him, guide her to rock against him. Her face had grown flushed and her heartbeat had quickened, spurned on by her own desire. He was desperate to help her.

But she didn't pull back completely like he had expected. Instead she leaned forwards, and pressed a kiss to his tattoo. Soft, tentative. Then she placed another. And another. Running along his collarbones. Pressing another kiss she let her tongue flicker out, tasting him. And he had to look up at the sky and close his eyes. He needed to take a step back, or he was going to lose whatever control he had left; infinitely less than she presumed.

As she raised herself up onto the tips of her toes her hands rested on his shoulders to balance herself. Then she leaned in, and pressed her soft lips onto the corner of his mouth. Automatically his jaw tightened as he struggled with his self-control.

And a little voice whispered in the back of his mind was how could he feel so strongly, how could he so enthralled and so distracted? Too many kisses to count in his lifetime and not one of them had his unbeating heart racing like this little innocent kiss. She pulled back entirely too quickly for his liking and his fingers curled into a fist as he struggled not to frighten her with his touch. He had promised her he wouldn't move. He would spend eternity trying to salvage the trust he had broken between them just to see her look at him with trust again.

As she pulled back her gaze flickered to the warehouse, and he knew her mind was back to its usual multi-tasking. It was bittersweet. But a part of him was glad, because if she kept going the way she had. If she had pressed her lips against his neck. He would have turned into a liar about not moving.

"How did I do?" Her own voice had taken a slight huskiness hold to it.

"With the goblins apprentice?" He asked, and his next move was one of risk and unadulterated selfishness; the back of his hand brushed against the inside of her thigh, "Your knife trick - right here - was impressive."

While it hadn't appeared she had taken his lesson seriously back at the diner, she had full well been listening and absorbing his words. And she had used them phenomenally and subtly. She drew in a sharp breath but didn't distance herself from his touch.

He took that as acceptance and placed his hand more firmly on her right leg. "However, you placed the knife here," he said, caressing the inside of her thigh again, a little ways above her knee. His thumb began to wander upwards in a languid manner before sliding further inwards close to the juncture of her thighs. "This is where the femoral vein is."

While she was distracted he closed the distance, and as his lips move to brush against her ear his eyes slid shut as her scent overwhelmed him. If only she understood how little self-control he had in her presence, she would understand that it was her who held all the power.

"Next time you aim to slice your opponent, this is where you need to target." He rubbed his thumb back and forth. Her pants had become soaked in the rain and his movement was fluid. She shifted beneath him, bringing his hand closer up to her apex.

There was a long silence, and he felt each puff of shallow breath against his chest. Oh how he enjoyed the affect he was having on her, and how accepting she was. Perhaps . . . -

But she spoke again, finding her voice. This time she sounded breathless and surprised. "Next time?"

He breathed a laugh of amusement. With all the willpower he had left he removed his hand and pulled back. Her lips were wetted where she had run her own tongue over them and on instinct her eyes had grown hooded. Something twisted in his chest as he fought to capture those lips with his own; to hear breath hitch again; to feel the blood rushing to the surface as her body responded to him. "Perfection is reached with practice, Sinni."

Winn turned serious again, as she ran a hand through her soaked her to calm herself. "I'm trying to understand you and what being a vampire means, but Godric," and the way she said his name made him wince internally, "I can't do that again. If you do that to me again, then . . . Then I'm walking and I'll figure out everything on my own."

"I know." He said. The fierceness in his next words couldn't be dampened as they flowed out before he could stop them. "Do not feel ever ashamed of your truths. I was wrong, Winn. And just as you seek to understand me, I seek to understand you."

Her eyes wandered around as they always did when her discomfort at her own vulnerability shone through. Godric wished she wouldn't do that. He didn't just want to feel - no, need - to feel her emotions, he wanted to see her raw emotions on her face. He wanted her in every way. He would tell her that he would never hurt her. But he couldn't very well say that now, could he?

"I have to meet Jess now, she says its urgent," The bags under her eyes said she should cancel and sleep. But Winn never slept more than she needed to for more than most basic survival. "But when I get back, can we just, talk? You say we're trying to understand each other, and I'm . . . I'm trying so hard. But I can't do that when you won't talk to me."

If it would earn her trust back. Then he could tell her anything. They both understood words were dangerous and information could be lethal. He just wasn't sure how to make her understand that possession of information could be just as lethal to her. He nodded. "Very well."

And as she walked out of the alley to hail she glanced back at him. He hadn't moved. Then, biting her lip she turned the alley in search of a cab. A moment later he leapt up onto a rooftop of out sight. As soon as he saw her take a cab he would leave to go change. He hated these jeans.

A/N: If you're still into this story dropping a review makes all the difference in the world