AN: This is an experiment, I don't really write fics, more of an avid reader, so this is a crash course for me. AU, because I love them, and hell it's fun.

Disclaimer: Broke college student, nuff said.

We are in the garden of good and evil.

Us the children of the night, and the guardians of the day.

The moon will witness our strife, but it is

The sun that will see the aftermath,

and name us the monsters that we are.

1378 C.E.

l. (A glimpse: He sees her, not as one, but of the whole throng. Lovely as they all are. He has no interest; there is already so much prey here.)

In the midnight sun she stands back to back with her family, the triplets. Four immovable pillars, three of them have more battle experience than she, but she holds her own.

She is no pushover.

Affectionately Claude and Claudette call her their little psycho.

And they are proven correct.

She's prepared. Silver is her ally, it caps her sharp teeth for if they bite she will certainly bite back. There is silver in her blood—a poison waiting to strike—if she happens to be drained, her attacker will die slowly in agony. Silver forges the cutting edge of her great sword that she thrust into the hearts of her enemies. Laughing and dancing in the blood and carnage left by the departed.

Psycho fairy indeed.

For she is Sianna "Sookie" Brigant and she's fighting the good fight.

It is a battle, nay a war. Unknown to humans, but rocks the supernatural world.

The fae and vampires are at each other's throats… again.

There have been moments of peace between the two, even trade. And yet they are natural enemies and the peace is fragile at best with war shadowing them like a bad omen.

Besides the vampires are greedy, they kill the fairies for their sport. A hunter can't be denied his game for too long.

Directed by a madman—his names are many, he is old and he must die, but he is a coward, he dare not show his face when there so many with the intent to kill—with legions of vampires and the two natured drunk off his blood, at his beck and call. Their quest is to steal the light, the spark so essential to the fairies' existence, all in an effort to see the light of day.

Day walking must be given—it is a rare gift—if forcefully taken i.e. the fairy is drained, then the light is tainted, and the vampire will only see the breaking of dawn before burning in the sun's rays. And thus the vampires need to be reminded why the fae are so vicious, they will not stand idle while a megalomaniac chases down a pipe dream, and the fairies are made fodder along the way.

There will be no clear winner for this war is reaching its end, with heavy losses on both sides. However her people will leave their mark on the world, and then the prince of fairies Niall Brigant will close the portals. Already this land already weeps with the blood spilled, she feels it in the earth, this land will be barren here once they leave, sad but a necessary evil as her grandfather calls it.

ll.

(A glimpse… maybe two: She sees him briefly, a pale chest toned and riddled in tattoos, dark hair in loose curls, and navy eyes. For a moment she is captured, then moves on. There are too many targets to kill.)

The adrenaline of battle courses through them all.

"Cousin, what is your body count? Mine is Seventeen," Claudine asks; her initial sweetness means nothing in the face of combat.

"Fourteen," Sookie answers, "but the night is still young."

"Amateurs," Claude scoffs, always competitive, "I'm at twenty-one."

"Then we'll have to even out the battle field," Claudette declares.

"Yes," Sookie replies, "we will."

"Cousin don't leave—"

It is for naught for she is already off, leaping into the air with the crackling of magic following her as she shifts, and when she lands there's a six foot long snow leopard in her place.

They are safer in numbers, but Sookie has always been hard headed, feeling as if she had something to prove with being a hybrid. It does not matter that the power is within the bloodline and if the essential spark appears, and humanity is cast aside… a fairy is a fairy. The magic is all the same, being half shifter is the equal to the quirks or special abilities of her brethren.

That is not the only thing that drives her though, she's a fighter—skilled and untested, and today is the day of reckoning. Her grandfather would not have let her out of faery if he did not think her capable. Coddled as she is, she has her own vendetta, her father Fintan had been murdered at the hands of the mad vampire when trying to save her enslaved shifter mother Adele. Sookie wants his head.

And if there's one thing the fae are good at its revenge.

However fairies thrive off of togetherness, and she's naïve to think that she alone can do it, thus showing her age and inexperience.

Sookie is painfully young for one of their kind, fairies can live forever as long as their spark remains untainted—a happy fairy is a healthy and long lived fairy. But hers will be short and unfulfilling if she does not let go or ask for help.

And as is the triplets are helpless to stop her as they fend off their own opponents. She disappears into the chaos, tearing down enemies with sharp claws and even sharper teeth that melts flesh with silver. She shifts again and a large lioness appears in her place roaring, the siblings may not be able to see her, but they can hear her battle cries.

lll.

(A glimpse… no now you have my attention: She is no longer a nameless face in the crowd. She is her own, and she has left him thunderstruck.)

Godric has always haunted battle fields. Where there is easy prey, the dying are delirious with death's cold breath breathing down their necks. How often he is mistaken for a god of death? He can't recall.

He has seen many wars and participated in half of them, but here it is different he is not part of that 2300 years old vampire's retinue, who's edict belays that he is already off his rocker. Rather he is here for sport, a fairy's blood to vampires likens to the affect opium has on humans. Two have fallen into his web already, and his high leaves him alert and more than ready to catch his next one.

And then he sees her.

She is glorious in battle. She shifts from animal to animal then becomes humanoid once again, ripping and cutting asunder with jaws of steel and sword edge.

Strangely he's reminded of his child, whom he changed after witnessing him in battle. He would have to call upon Eric soon; they are never separated for long.

Whatever the reason she has captured his attention. Perhaps it is the bloodlust she displays, or the way she moves as if dancing to the beat of her own drum, while she fights. Undulating in and out, twisting, twirling, swirling, shifting.

She is young; she has yet to gain that ageless look the fae get once upon reaching maturity—eternal youth. White blond hair, silver in the deceiving moonlight, the sun is in her skin, skin that is splattered in blood. Running down her face as if each droplet is a prize from her every kill, making her defiant expression all the more appealing. To a vampire blood is everything; she wears it without fear, she revels in it. He leers at the sight she makes, fangs brushing his lips.

She is a warrior goddess made flesh.

While watching her, he absently deflects an incoming blow, moves to the left to avoid a raging Were, and briefly she stops and stares at him with narrowed eyes. Godric stills himself and wonders at her next move: will she engage him in combat? To his disappointment she recalls herself and gos back into the melee.

It is some time later, when he takes a moment to give most of his attention to her again, from his peripheral he had watched her. A name is called, one he does not catch and her head snaps in its direction.

A dark haired duo is absconding, a female and male carrying another that is injured. They are as lovely as expected, but she alone is exceptional. They beckon her to come, to retreat for the battle is coming to a close as is, and he finds that he does not wish for her to go.

As if sensing his gaze, she finds him once again across this carnage field, but she does not notice the lurking danger, the vampire coming for her. The fairies call out to her, but she does not have time to react for Godric is there, hand gripping around the beast neck. He stares at his counterpart calmly, and then brings his attention back to her. Watching her, watching him, she seems frozen at his proximity, nigh but three feet from her.

Absently he notes how intoxicating she smells, more so than any other fairy he'd encountered, and it takes all 1400 years of his learned control to keep from attacking her, fucking her, and draining her dry. He'd thought her beautiful before, but up close and personal it is her eyes that are extraordinary. They are literally the windows to her soul, a series of emotions play: fear for an instant, and then replaced with hostility, weariness, and a touch of curiosity.

Ah, even she feels this strange pull too, he reaches out a hand either to wipe away the blood or feel if her skin is as soft as it appears. Her eyes follow his movements then snap to his other occupied hand.

Her would be assailant is struggling; well he'll put a stop to that. Godric crushes his neck and pulls out his heart. Its overkill, but he will not allow harm to come to this curiosity.

He turns back to the girl, and finds she has escaped him, clasped within the arms of the female fairy from earlier. Before his eyes they pop away, and in the distance they appear a hundred feet away at the river bank, and she is looking back at him with wonderment.

"Sookie we must go," Her companion urges, Sookie gives him one last glance, and jumps into the river in a flash of light. Into a portal he knows will never open again.

Centuries pass by and I think of you.

From a distance I watch and wait.

And the time is now.

I shall bridge the gap, and no longer be a spectator.

Time unknown… Faery.

At the water's edge she watches him as she always has—fascinated.

She pines and longs for something beyond her reach.

He's fading, he has been for a long time now and there's nothing she can do to stop it.

She reaches out and the image ripples and fades; she aches.

"Go," The booming voice of her grandfather startles her. She stands; the telltale signs of guilt in her every move, before she remembers herself and drops to her knee in a bow, "My Lord."

He waves aside her formality, and she stands hesitantly, looking anywhere but his eyes. If there is anyone that makes her feel like a child after all these centuries it's her grandfather.

Niall's amused, bright blue eyes laugh at her, but his expression remains stoic. For a fairy that's old as dirt, he'd give an underwear model a run for his money. Eternal youth, however does not take away from his wisdom, and fool he is not. He knows heartbreak… love when he sees it.

How the tides have changed,He muses, then says, "Go my child, I grant you leave to vacate Faery indefinitely."

"Grandfather—" She stutters out.

"Know the dangers: you will be hunted when not if you're discovered, you must always protect yourself, do not expose yourself to humans—"

"And stay away from iron and lemons, if you have to wear the goddamn gloves," Sookie finishes, rolling her eyes. She knows the routine, but this is different. She sniffles, knowing she will cry any moment now.

"I will be sending Preston and Damon after you, they will shadow and guard you until further notice," Niall allows her to hug him for a moment, "You know I could never deny you anything, I'm surprised it's taken you this long."

Sookie flushes and embraces him tighter; he returns it then gently pushes her away, "Now leave before I change my mind."

She makes it too the water's edge, "Good bye Grandfather." When looking at her he's always reminded of Fintan, today however he sees Sianna for herself.

"No my child this is not goodbye, I will see you again," He says to her retreating back, in a flash of light she's gone, and Niall walks away whistling.

2009 C.E. Dallas, Texas.

lV.

(A glimpse… do not think I've forgotten you, you are forever in my thoughts: A world in which you don't exist is unacceptable. You got away once and it won't ever happen again.)

2,000 years is enough.

He is tired, weary of his existence.

To think he thrived but a century ago.

To think that finding a wisp of his humanity would tilt his world upon its axis and change his perspective.

Even with the introduction of synthetic blood, humans and vampires cannot prosper together. The curtain has been thrust open since the Great Reveal, and the night can no longer shield them, but that does not stop their violence, rather makes them more discrete.

The incident with the Fellowship of the Sun does not help matters: a suicide bomber, the resulting blood bath ensuing with vampires after revenge, the amount of human casualties, and the looming threat of the authority looking to salvage this incident in their favor…. No more.

He wants no part of vampiric politics, hypocritical considering his position. Being made sheriff is not one he wanted nor needed, but was pushed upon him by a King intimidated by his age, and reputation. For he's the Visigoth, with a miles long list of sins that precedes him and if one did not tremble in fear at tales of his exploits then they were fools indeed.

Godric has seen his child—thriving, independent, and ruthless from all the teachings he now loaths. Eric no longer needs him, he had been careful to close off their bond, the ancient vampire did not wish to expose Eric to his depression, self-loathing… a spiral of emotions knotting into an eternal ache so great, the pain at times cripples him.

He has fulfilled his duty, there is not much else tying him down to this Earth.

At this age he will burn quickly... he's pulling off his tunic when she appears.

He likens her to a specter, a figment of his imagination for he has thought of her before... countless times truthfully, and perhaps he has gone insane in his old age.

He wouldn't be the first.

And yet he has not seen a fairy in 600 hundred years.

But there she is:

Her scent is masked; barefoot with white blond hair gold in the coming light, skin aglow, wind blowing her whimsical dress, and eyes vibrant with life. And her voice is musical when asking crossly, "Is it worth it, this madness?"

He's caught off guard, then regains his footing, "It is enough for me, besides who are you to question me."

"I'm Sianna Brigant," She replies, arms akimbo, "Sookie to those who matter and I'm here to give you hell."

"Hell you say?" Godric questions faintly amused.

"Of course, meeting the sun is not the answer you seek," Sookie responds cheekily.

"What I seek is peace; my existence is an abomination, at least I will be free once I die," He replies serenely.

In the face of that statement Sookie sobers quickly and gives him a look of utter sadness.

"Godric we are all capable of evil, I'm telepathic and have heard some of the darkest thoughts that humans are capable of. And like you, seen what Supes are can of, killing yourself won't leave the statement you wish to make." She sees that she has his interest, "If your perspective has changed, why you can't work to change the views of others. If you've evolved surely others may follow. Besides humans will always fear what they don't understand, I'm part human and even I comprehend their shortcomings."

And now she has lost him completely, "Even you understatement humans. How long has it been since you've lived amongst others besides fairies? Have you completely lost your humanity?"

Perhaps she has, her morals are that of her species. Godric shakes his head as if her silence is answer enough, "See? Even you don't understand, my resolve is clear, today will be my last."

Sookie feels tears of frustration, and quickly changes tactics, she will save a life—the one that matters most of all. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

He looks startled, "What—"

"I don't," Sookie continues, "It took centuries for me to realize it, and I never acted on it until now. You're wrong when you say I've lost touch with my humanity I have been in touch with humans over the years."

He's irritated and looks ready to interrupt her, she panics and continues hurriedly gets to the point. "The portals to faery never truly closed, rather the prince only allowed us short visits over the years and it was magic that kept us hidden. We were never truly allowed to roam as we did before, but hide in plain sight."

She stops and breaths deeply, seeking strength, "I would find and watch over you from a distance."

Godric glances at her sharply. Sookie flushes and looks away, "I always wondered about the vampire who saved me. I hated the whole lot of you for killing parts of my family, driving us from this world, and the genocide of my people. It took a long time to come terms with their deaths, but to live with this hate would be hypocritical when I love a vampire myself."

She has captured him once again, but continues to avoid his gaze, "Fate cannot be denied, and this is what she had decided… what I've decided, I've come out of hiding for you, and I won't be denied." Sookie finally meets his eyes, and then moves towards him, tentatively reaching out touch him, hands slipping over his skin. Godric finds himself leaning into her touch as she says to him imploringly, "So live Godric, live for love. I will never leave you, I'll take away your pain, but only if you live."

She does not let him respond, the fae are touchy feely at best and she will convince him in all the ways she can. Sookie kisses him, lips insistent against his own, salty from her tears. She molds her body to his—she's so much shorter than him—her hands are not idle, they search, they explore they memorize and become more urgent when the heat of the sun reaches her. And finally he responds, clasping her to him tightly, groaning as she moves herself shamelessly against him. She takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, running her hands through his curls, allowing him to take control and she does not stop until she requires breath.

Panting against him, she kisses him one last time sucking on his fangs, pulling another gasp from his lips, and fervently she asks, "Will you stay? Will you?"

"Yes, perhaps this world has more to offer me after all," Godric replies wryly. Sookie laughs and gives him a beatific smile. Subtle smoke billows from his hand, alarmed he urges her, "We must hurry inside before the sun rises."

Sookie shakes her head and remains where she stands. In her hands light blossoms and blooms, she pushes into it into his chest without warning, and Godric finds himself filled with warmth, his pale flesh taking on a glow, looking almost mortal.

There is a question on his lips, one look at her explains what she has given him, and once again he finds himself thunderstruck by Sookie Brigant.

Their hands come together as Godric experiences the breaking of dawn for the first time in over 2,000 years.

It is a beginning not an end.

AN:There's a sequel called Catching Signals that Sound in the Dark.