A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first attempt at an Underworld fanfic, thought I've written many for other genres. I imagine it as a several part series, though I don't see much point in continuing unless people want it. So I'll give you this little piece as a taste. I've set up the plot of the war in case you want me to continue. Let's say that if I don't get at least three reviews telling me to continue, I'll leave it as a one shot? Sound fair? Good.
This is set about two years before the events of the third movie. Lucian and Sonja haven't yet established a relationship.
The coven was uneasy. It was like the calm before the storm, an unnatural calm. Vampires and Lycans stood, trying to remain calm, fully aware of the army that swarmed closer each day. Every evasive measure had been taken, and then some, to try and prevent the oncoming slaughter, but why settle for compromise when you can just kill and be done with it? The Death Dealers were under strict orders not to leave the safety of the castle, so there were no patrols to at least keep them busy while they waited for extinction. A hopeless battle. Impossibly outnumbered by a race far more powerful than their's. A new breed, not unlike vampires in their blood drinking tendencies, but far more powerful. A violent breed, bent on overcoming anything that threatened their idea of a perfect future, a future where they were all.
The steady clang of steel on steel and the warmth of the bright glowing fire brought little comfort to Lucian. He, like everyone else, feared the war. His frustration at Viktor brought his hand harder on the steel than normal. He had broken and bent far too many swords that day, though the vampires were too preoccupied to notice. Lucian didn't understand the way Viktor thought. Even when his entire coven and his own life were at stake, the elder would not remove the Lycans' shackles. They might have a slight hope if they could only transform. Wasn't that what Viktor had created them for, after all?
A familiar scent warmed the air around Lucian, and his heart childishly missed a beat. Sonja. Her scent was cool, like water, but with other things in there. It was a scent he could only describe as what he would imagine diamonds would smell like.
"…and the walls could give us an advantage of the higher ground," she was saying to somebody. Lucian's small smile was half amused, half sad. Even with all odds stacked against them, Sonja would not stop fighting. She would never give up, never give in, never admit defeat or weakness. A sometimes reckless quality, but one of the reasons Lucian was so drawn to the cold daughter of Viktor.
Lucian mentally cursed himself. It was sick, the way he thought of Sonja. Sure, she was beautiful. In fact, she was much more than that, she was courageous, selfless, headstrong and incredibly sexy when she showed her claws. But she was also a vampire. And anything between them would be so wrong. He was, after all, just a slave. A Lycan. Why should she, royal, stone-cold Sonja notice him? But then there were the times when Lucian thought otherwise. He would never say it out loud, but he did see those looks she gave him. The looks that told him she was thinking the exact same thing as he was. That she was being stupid, they were too different, it was forbidden.
The scent grew stronger, and the highly attractive voice grew louder (and angrier), pulling Lucian out of his thoughts.
"Despite what my father has drilled into us all, this is not the end. And if it is the end, we will fight until it comes." she snapped. Lucian noted the disapproving tone at the mention of her father and wondered why that was. Were they fighting again? It was not uncommon for their voices, his slimy and furious, and hers dripping with venom and slight arrogance, to be heard engaging in a shouting match over whatever scandalous thing she did to piss him off. Another thing that Lucian found so appealing in the Lady Sonja.
Sonja stepped into the warmth of Lucian's workspace and sucked in an impatient breath, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. Lucian waited, trying to force the amused smirk off his face. Unfortunately, Sonja noticed his expression and her coal black eyes narrowed.
"Yes, blacksmith?" she snarled scathingly.
Lucian looked down, shaking his head, forcing a straight face, "Nothing, milady,"
He drew her sword, one of the few to survive his anger throughout the day, from the small pile, holding it out to her. The side of her lip pulled up and her expression softened in the slightest.
"Thank you," she said, "And I'm sorry. I'm sure you can understand the strain, given our current situation,"
Lucian nodded, "Of course, it must be difficult,"
Sonja shrugged casually as she inspected her sword, a beautiful ornate piece. Lucian remembered crafting it. One of his first creations. Viktor had ordered him to make it for Sonja's sixteenth birthday. He spent several nights, even working through the day to get it perfect. He had never worked so hard on a sword, so the admiration and glee on Sonja's face as Viktor presented it to her was a great personal triumph. Of course, he hadn't gotten a word of praise. Viktor made it seem as though he had made it, and Sonja believed him easily. Over the years it was difficult to understand how Sonja trusted and loved such a cruel man as Viktor. Lucian supposed him being her father would warrant a fair bit of blindness to his crueller sides.
"I've always wondered about this sword," Sonja said in a offhand tone, however her eyes looked mischievously knowing, like she knew what he'd been thinking, "It's so beautiful, a lot of work done on the handle,"
Lucian nodded, unsure on what he should say. An evil little voice in his mind slithered to the surface, egging him on to tell her that he had made it, but Lucian pressed his lips tight together.
"I think the person who made it really thought it out. I'm incredibly lucky," Sonja continued, a teasing glint in her eyes. She knows, the voice in Lucian's head hissed with poisonous, greedy glee. Again, he said nothing, uncomfortable in this situation. Sonja drew closer, and that enticing, appealing scent filled Lucian's lungs.
"My father is no craftsman. I find it hard to believe he forged this sword." she said in a lower voice. Lucian almost jumped back. The proximity of her body, the husky, sensual tone of that already irresistible voice, it was almost too much for him. He wanted to grab her, roughly into his arms and carry her away. Take her away from everything bad in the world. Whisk her far away from any war that threatened to close those obsidian eyes forever. But then she was gone, the diamond scent just a pale reminder. Lucian could swear that through his daze of confused thoughts he could hear Sonja's laugh as she walked away.
So what do you think? As I said, let me know if you want me to continue the story, and tell me what you think of the story idea. The plot will certainly thicken if you guys want me to continue. Constructive criticism welcome (though it stings, all the same!) and hope everyone's have a fantastic start to the new year!