Disclaimer: I only own my original characters in this, although I would love to own Underworld, and the characters I don't.

Important Note: This story will be slightly AU. It will also be a LucianOC romance. So if you don't like it, don't read it. But please do not flame me complaining when I have clearly warned you NOW!!

Many thanks

Elfsire

Prologue – 1201 A.D. Before the war

The woman looked around her, confused. Where was she? This was not the place she was supposed to be. Tired, disorientated, she stumbled slowly through the woods. Her feet seemed to find every small twig or rock that littered her path. Eventually, her legs could no longer support her bruised body, and when she stumbled she fell to the floor, panting heavily.

The moon rose in the sky, a bright beacon, illuminating the forest with its silvery glow. In a few days it would be a full moon, at least seven days, but the woman hoped she would be safe by then. She had no desire to stumble across a rogue lycan encampment; she would be torn to pieces in a moment.

Looking up around the woman noticed she was not alone. A large hound looked at her quizzically, almost wondering if she were prey or not. It had a large collar around its neck; its master would be somewhere. Although that thought did not comfort the lonely soul, it worried her more. She did not want to be discovered. Almost sensing her thoughts the hound turned tail and ran.

The woman felt panic surge through her veins. If she were to be found and discovered, she would be killed on sight for what she was. 'Damn it' her mind screamed, 'why so soon, why now?' She hauled her protesting body up with the aid of a strong tree and leaned against it, 'I can't run I'm dead' she thought suddenly.

As she took a slight hobbling step forward she realised that her time to escape had run out. A horse's stamp alerted her to the fact that a few of her would be pursuers were on horseback. A quick scan showed she was surrounded completely. Desperate, realising the futility of her situation she pulled her teeth back and snarled. An armoured figure held up a hand as one figure reached for a whip.

The same armoured figure then dismounted fluidly, and walked towards the woman, one hand at her side out of reach of her weapon, the other held out in front of her placating. The woman couldn't help herself; she looked puzzled at the outstretched hand. When she realised that she was meant no harm a wave of relief washed over her. They obviously had no idea of who she was, what she was...yet.

"What is your name sister?" a female voice enquired from within the armour.

"I can't remember," the words fell thick and heavy, pouring from her mouth, slurring in her pain and exhaustion.

"It is alright, none here are going to hurt you," the voice soothed, the hand reaching out to touch her.

The woman nodded, satisfied now. She could sense the figures now, the ones on horses were vampires, and the majority of those on foot were lycans. However there were a few, like the one who had reached for his whips, who were vampire. They must think she was a vampire then! So be it. To keep them from the truth she would maintain this charade. Again she nodded, before her body collapsed beneath her, and she descended into darkness.

Sleep let her go slowly, unwilling to loosen its grip on her too quickly. She felt that she was warm and comfortable, in a soft bed, with fine linen sheets that rubbed against her skin when she moved. She must have been taken there; she would never have managed to walk there in her exhausted state. Now she felt slightly better.

Opening her eyes slowly she observed she was not alone in the room. A middle aged woman was watching over her. Seeing her ward's eyes open, she stood and nodded, before moving out of the room. As she left, beneath her thin sleeve the invalid caught sight of a brand. 'So, the vampires still practise slavery' the woman thought. A strange and barbaric custom to her. She shook her head, and regretted it, as bile rose in her throat.

Cool metal was placed against her lips, and warm liquid trickled down her throat. The woman instinctively swallowed and began to drink. The metallic tang hit her strongly, making her pause in her drinking for a moment. She was drinking blood! Had she really fallen so far, that she was reduced to drinking blood and keeping up a charade to live? The woman forced herself to drink as she realised that brutality would be necessary.

As the pewter goblet was removed from her lips she saw a wizened old face, scrutinising her closely, for any sign of movement. The woman in bed licked her lips and teeth fastidiously, ridding herself of any remains of her gory meal, before smiling her thanks. This earned a hiss from the younger woman, a frown and a shaken head from the older.

"Lady Morganna should not smile at me," the older woman shook her head again.

"Who is this Lady Morganna?" the woman asked.

"You were named whilst you slept by the lady Ilona, who found you," the younger woman explained.

"Oh, thank you for looking after me," Morganna said, after a pause.

"They say you are ill, Sarah heals you, nothing else to it," the older woman muttered.

"We must go now, Sarah, the lady needs her rest," the younger woman chided.

"Yes, she will meet with Lord Viktor soon enough," the older woman cackled as she was led out.

Morganna wondered as she lay back against the sheets. Morganna, yes she liked the name. It seemed to suit her well, it fitted like a glove. She knew that names were important. If you no longer had a name you were forgotten about and faded away. She had not wanted that to happen to her, which is where all her troubles began. Perhaps it would be better if she had been forgotten; she would not now be on the precarious knife edge of her new life.

A sharp knock on the door awoke her. She saw the moon shining through the now open shutters, and it fell like a knife blade through the arrow slits. A vampire stormed in, and demanded that she array herself, and that she would be taken to Lord Viktor when she was ready. She nodded and told him to leave, after accepting the parcel of clothes he carried.

It consisted of a black corset that laced up the front and left some of her pale creamy skin in plain view. To go with it was a simple black skirt. From the back came a triangle of brocade, which broadened out to a fishtail at the base. Around the top was trimmed with gold and fell to a v underneath her belly button. The centre of the trim was highlighted with a simple red ruby surrounded by gold.

To finish she simply pulled her hair back into a large bun at the back of her head. Her hand ran over the pendant she had obviously been allowed to keep. Tears flew to her eyes when she remembered how she got it but she thrust them away. It was a simple profile of an angel, with wings that hung useless.

Finally ready Morganna opened the door and turned to the vampire. She nodded curtly, sensing that she would need something more than kindness if she were going to survive in this midnight world. The vampire sneered at her, but she snarled, and a flicker of fear passed over the vampire's face. He led the way confidently. Morganna wondered if he really trusted her with his back, 'I wouldn't if I were him' she thought with a grim smile.

She was admitted to a long hall. She walked easily down it, to the large table at the end, which was obviously meant to be filled with vampire nobles. However, now it was eerily empty but for a single lord, who was sitting in a high backed throne. There were no other witnesses. Morganna guessed this tactic was meant to scare her, and still she walked with her head high, pretending not to be afraid.

"Lord Viktor," Morganna bowed slightly, being unable to curtsy due to her skirt.

"Morganna," Viktor nodded.

"I take it this isn't a pleasure visit?" She asked pleasantly, making Viktor draw a breath at her impertinence.

"There is the small matter of your future here in the coven to discuss," his voice was clipped, showing his discomfort.

"Certainly," she seemed to have realised that it was wiser to hold her tongue.

"There are two positions here for you..." Viktor began, "My high table is lacking a noble," he indicated a seat close to him.

"Or..." Morganna began.

"Soren is in desperate need of another slave master to help him," Viktor tried to read her inscrutable face.

Morganna's thoughts were racing around her head. 'He would make me a lady, and I would be powerful, with so many at my command.' But then the picture flew unbidden to her mind of the two lycan slaves who had tended her to her mind. They had looked starved and afraid, and unused to even the few crumbs of gratitude and kindness she had been able to throw them. She had made her choice without even knowing it. She would help them in any way she could.

"I will be the slave master," Morganna's voice rang out among the halls.

"So be it," Viktor nodded before calling for a servant, "Tell Soren he is to escort his new working companion around, once she has changed."

She bowed gracefully before she left. She was led again to the room she had stayed in, that she assumed would be given to her. More clothes had been laid out on the bed, and the younger lycan woman was there to help assist her out of her clothes and into a new set.

This one she infinitely preferred. It allowed her more freedom of movement. The top was of red leather, without any sleeves, and a lace up front. Around the bottom of her arms went studded leather bracers. Her trousers were simply dyed black deerskin. For her feet were a pair of leather boots that had a slight heel. Finally there was a weapons belt that secured around her waist.

She was glad she was assisted by the lycan woman, for Soren was impatient, and was soon there. Morganna left her hair how it was, she would have no time to change it. When she opened the door Soren calculated her, her height, weight, the way she was dressed, and even her silver pendant.

"You should take it off, the lycans will try stealing it," he indicated the amulet.

"It is pure silver, and none will try and take it," Morganna challenged.

"You have not worked with them for as long as I have," Soren answered her curt remark.

"Perhaps new blood is needed," she smiled coyly testing him.

The tour was brief but informative. Soren told her that the younger lycan woman, Klara, would be her personal servant, and would also be her responsibility, as would the other lycans under her care. She was shown around the servant's quarters, meagre things in her opinion. Then she was taken to the armoury. She had a whip thrust upon her.

"The mark of a slave master, take anything else you want," he commanded.

While Soren was watching her impatiently, Morganna slowly made her way along, testing each weapon for its feel and weight in her hand. Finally she selected a simple long sword. She tried a few practice swings and realised how perfect the weapon was for her. It was as if the weapon was made for her. She sheathed it and walked out of the door before Soren, a fact which would gall him.

Morganna soon fell into the pattern of her new life. She would wake up at dusk, and go to see that the daylight guards were replaced promptly. She counted each of the lycans on and off, to make sure that none of them had run off during the day. She never doubted that any would, she had faith in them.

Her next task would be to oversee the feeding of her lycans. In the beginning she did this with great trepidation, not knowing what was expected of her. She was glad to see that the lycans had already had this very much sorted out, and there was none of the bullying or fighting over scraps of meat that she had seen before. In fact it was all rather civilised.

Morganna had made changes that were popular with the lycans, but not perhaps with Soren. Firstly she increased the amounts of food they were given, she argued that starved workers would not work properly or to their best degree. This was proved when her lycans were put to their tasks they completed them with good grace. She often gave extra rations to some, especially if they had done something worthy of praise, or had been out on the gates all day.

Klara became Morganna's almost constant companion. She was a fount of knowledge on what it meant to be lycan, and told her mistress many interesting things about her brethren. She also knew many of their names, and Morganna strived to find out what most of the lycans in her care were called, so she would be able to address them as equals. This helped reinforce their respect and Soren's hatred for her. Eventually they accepted her, and tolerated her; some even began to respect and love her. She no longer had to see starved lycan children stare up at her; even if they were too young to work she would see that they were provided for.

However Soren seemed not to share any of her ideas. He thought that the only way to subject lycans and make them work was to treat them like dogs. All lycans lived in fear of the twin whips that Soren carried around with him. And since Morganna had began her work his beatings seemed to become more frequent and damaging. Many of those in his care died quickly after being placed as such. Many saw it as an unjust punishment to be sent to the uncaring embrace of the twined leather straps. Morganna vowed early on that she would talk to Soren about this.

However, all rational thoughts flew from her brain when she interrupted on him punishing her maid.

Klara had been pushed by Soren, and had dropped some item, and it had broken. Soren had started to shout and reached for his rarely used silver whips. Using her unnoticed advantage she drew her own whip quicker than he could his own. With a deft flick of her wrist she drew a sharp line down his cheek. He turned, shocked, to see Morganna standing, her usually coiled whip held loosely in her hand.

"Why attack her with silver? It was a small item nothing that can not be replaced."

"Any item that belongs to a vampire is worth more than a lycan's life." He sneered.

"Does that include the lycan slaves?" she replied a smile crossing her lips.

The next thing she knew she was sent slamming into a wall. She felt a sharp pain run through her back and heard in the distance Klara's shocked cries. Her head swam and lights danced at the corner of her vision. As it cleared she saw a fearsome sight, a mad vampire with glowing bright eyes and elongated canines.

She curled onto the floor in a foetal position covering her head hoping that he would fall for her ruse. As she planned he kicked her in the stomach, curling her legs up in pain she wrapped her hands around his legs and then pushed her legs up to wrap around his hips. She rolled backwards with him and helped use his own momentum to pull him down, while stunned and speechless Soren was not a danger but she planted her elbow in his sternum for good measure. Klara had gone for help and quickly rounded the corner with two strong lycans and their vampire masters.

"This is only the start he will not be content until he has killed you."

Author's note: here we go the first chapter. By the way, I'm going from the book Blood Enemy for all my pre-war information. It is actually a book about the pre-war Underworld, and is a good book to read. I hope you all like it.

For all of you who are reading this again, this version is revised and edited. I decided, with some help from Lilitha star (who I adore!!!!) that this was long overdue a re-write. Voila, we now have a newer account of Morganna's goings on. Hope you all enjoyed.

Many thanks again to Lilitha star. I would recommend you read her stories as well if you have the time. They are well worth it, anyways bye for now!!

Elfy