Before the Moonrise
Copyright notice: The creators of Underworld own all… I'm making nothing off of this other then the enjoyment of writing this prequel. However- any original characters relating to the plot I've created, must give credit before use (such as Aldis, for example).
Author's Note: Hi, I got a new penname (I'm actually SailorFusion) but I'm sick of that pen name. Will be updating this as much as I can (I'm a sophomore this year, so my schedule is crammed!).
I already write for GaleriansSlash on livejournal… so read some of my stuff there too. My blog is http/theredqueen. and there's a link in my profile too, so visit there if you like.
All stories from SailorFusion are officially over, I do not intend to finish them. They're dead. That's it.
More reviews I get, the more I'll try to update. Trust me, they are a Godsend. Thanks.
Here goes nothin'…
Part 1: Fragile Thing
"She won't survive the dawn"- faint whispers are heard over this deep voice. Footsteps shuffle back and forth across a stone floor, hems of long skirts swaying back and forth as they make way for this tall, broad figure. Dressed in black, loose leather pants, and other wear of a warrior, he steps toward the bed.
The four post canopy is soaked on the bottom with blood, beige sheets now a bright crimson, the dark green and gold comforter is cuddled around the dark haired, pale skinned woman who is leaning against the cherry wood headboard. Her light panting echoes in the stone chamber. Sweat pastes her dark hair to her porcelain face as she holds a small child. A girl.
The baby is wrapped in a dark red, silk cloth amongst other blankets of soft material. She moves her tiny arms occasionally but is otherwise quite still.
"She'll live." The woman says, looking up at the man. Her husband. The precious gold bands on their left ring fingers show them to be so.
"You really think so? Aldis, be practical. All the others perish by morning, the do not survive these winter nights." The man turns his gaze towards the floor, dark eyes attempting to not express the grief he feels within, "It might be best if we let go now."
"How dare you say that!" She snaps, the child opening its eyes in her arms, "She- she is different then the others! She's going to survive." A harsh wind blows outside, sweeping up wisps of powder light snow, the bright moon illuminating the white snow. The castle was cold as well. This winter palace, although designed to retain warmth, was still permeated by the freezing temperatures outside.
"Aldis, I will be going to separate quarters tonight. I cannot bear to see another perish in the night, to watch her struggle for warmth in your arms." He says, gently yet firm. "You and I know well that vampire children need warmth the first few days of life to survive. Love, and warmth… things we cannot provide for her. Not now, nor have we ever been able to. Be reasonable, woman. You're lucky to be alive after losing that much blood."
Her face looks tired suddenly as she begins to lay down further in the blood stained bed, her delicate white lace gown is slightly exposed, as the child begins to cry louder in her arms.
"Have you no love in your heart?" She whispers, pushing herself up to be in a position to breast feed her child. "She is not like the others- so strong!" Aldis crades the child further to her breast. "She'll survive. She's a fighter, and she will make it through the night. Servants, leave us." She dismisses her chamber maids and midwives as they make their way through the hard wood door, slamming it shut behind them.
"Have you thought of a name yet?" Aldis asks, still feeding the child and turning her gaze away from her husband.
"No, I don't want to become attached. But if it pleases you," he smiles at her, "I think Amelia would be lovely."
"Farrell, what is this change in heart you have now?" Aldis looks up at him, bringing her child down to lay more comfortably now.
"The look in your eyes," he smiles, "And hers, the spirit of a great warrior lurks within those eyes of determination. And I'm beginning to think she'll make it."