Sadly, I don't own Underworld nor any of its beautiful characters. Though I'd like nothing more than own the beautiful cinnamon roll that is Bradley James. And I'm sorry for the ASoIaF/GoT references...or not.

Chapter 3 - The Hand of the Queen

Varga was a despicable man. Oh, he knew of the whispers behind his back and more often than not, he agrees with what they had to say. If he himself had the authority he would sentence himself to die, and to die a painfully terrible death. Public execution should do. Of course he'd still choose the touch of steel over the burn of the sun. Even he wasn't that brave. Either way, his obliteration was the only thing the great vampire council could possibly do to rectify the situation. The situation being the murder of twenty young Death Dealers.

The problem was he didn't have the authority, nor the right to have a say of what type of punishment was given to him. The one other person more despised than Varga (that is, until two moons ago), did have that power.

"Stop," Selene's voice was emotionless like always, but all the same it commanded attention. And admiration. Never mind what she had to say, everyone in any room was always ready to hear it.

Cassius reluctantly stops what seems to be his nth recount of Varga's heinous crime.

"Thank you." Selene awkwardly nods her head toward the older vampire. She wasn't popular for being polite.

"This is a trial. A two-way discourse of how to go about..things. Now, as much as I love hearing the important retellings from the important people over here, a different perspective would be nice. You're the one being tried after all and yet I haven't heard you speak a word."

Neither have you, he wanted to say, eyes fixed solely on her. There aren't that many men who could look at her in the eye without being intimidated. And Varga wasn't at all intimidated by Selene. "I deserve any horrible fate that befalls me."

"No," Selene insists. "You don't. There's always a reason why everybody does the things they do."

"I killed twenty innocent people. Raw recruits, reluctant to fight or even practice from the start. They were my students."

"That's good."

"What?" He says, taken aback.

"You keep count."A pause and then: "It's good that you do. Do you know that most killers don't? I don't, Selene muses. "And you said people."

Varga was looking at her like he was seeing her for the first time.

"I did."

"It's nice for everyone to be reminded of that fact every now and then."

The audience began to look at one another and murmured among themselves after her short pause.

"Selene, I think we should proceed–" Cassius tries to intervene once again.

"Why did you do it?" She continues, louder this time, her piercing gaze challenging him. "Semira was the one who gave the command but it was you who pulled the trigger. Multiple times. I wanted to kill you then. Never mind that I was lying on the floor, paralyzed and good as dead, no, you also had to go pull a mass murder stunt in front of me! By rights, I should kill you myself."

Varga's head lowered, cutting eye contact for the first time.

"But she won't."

Nobody saw Eve entered the room. Nonetheless her presence was always welcomed warmly. The girl who had the face of a young goddess – so much like her mother's – but with the eyes of a stranger. Fortunate still, many would argue, to have none of Selene's cold outward bearing. "She must have taken after her father..." "What? No!" "A sweet and gentle lycan? Why, never been heard of!" Like Varga, Eve has her fair share of whisperers. The whisperers call her "princess" to her face and "monster" or "an outright abomination" when she's got her back turned.

"I won't," Selene agrees, softening now, meeting her daughter's eyes across the room. "But," she starts again, addressing Varga.

"Why can't you just answer the question?" She heard her words as though spoken by someone else, from a past she can't quite let go. Probably never will. She poured her heart out to Michael that night. In all the ways a woman like her can. Still, she didn't know why she'd opened up the way she did and why he pushed her to do so. Until today.

Varga didn't remind Selene of Michael. He reminded her of herself.

Selene glances back at her daughter again, now seated beside David. She gives her a small but reassuring smile, mother's got this one, love, and an uncharacteristic wink. Eve smiles openly at her.

"I did it because I…I loved her." Varga lets out at last. "I suppose...It's pathetic, I know. She never did return any of my…" he trails off, clearly uncomfortable. "Anyway, she respected me. Trusted me. I did everything she wanted me to do because it made her…happy. In the most twisted way I think she was. I hope she was," but he sounded tired instead of hopeful. "And she embodies someone I thought I might never see again in a leader. Believe it or not, she had been a great one." This time it was Varga challenging Selene. "There's a reason why out of all the covens, this one survived and held on much stronger even when all the others were left to ruins. But I never imagined her as...a killer. It was the first time she asked me to do such a thing."

The whole room was so quiet as the great Death Dealer's confession was just sinking in.

"You say you loved her but you turned against her the moment David claimed he was the rightful heir of the house you serve."

"I am nothing if not loyal." His answer came easily, though with more conviction. "You, yourself, know that."

"Cut the bullshit. That won't work on me."

Damn, she's good, Varga thinks. He takes a deep breath. "I planned to set her free once I–" he stops, and surprises himself as much as everyone else when he begins to laugh. "–I actually thought we could have run away together. Deep inside I knew she wouldn't have agreed to it. But it was a wonderful thought to hold on to in the middle of a raging war." When he looks at Selene this time, it was pure sadness she saw in his eyes.

But it was telling her of something more. The same thing everyone's gazes told her all the time. There she is, the great Death Dealer who loved a lycan. How miserable can her life be?

Gone was the hard, unfeeling soldier. As I know only too well.

Varga then turned to David, an amused smile suddenly on his face. "I am forever grateful, and in your debt, for sparing me from that inevitable rejection."

The lie was easy to tell and one that Selene has used so many times before. Dark sarcasm to mask how one truly feels. Yes, the wall she's created to separate herself from the world wasn't only made of ice.

But her heart was breaking for him. Forbidden love is a tragedy itself but Michael loved her.

And damn it, he loved her so much. She was aware of this as she was very much aware of her own existence. He made sure she did. He heard her heartbeat in return, and tasted her blood. Without warning, her thoughts stray back to the second time she almost lost him, remembering how he looked at her then.

Michael's adoring gaze made Selene uncomfortable. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for a moment like this. She had no idea how to respond.

He's alive, she reminded herself. That's what matters. Her detached expression failed to convey the overwhelming relief she experienced deep inside. For a few moments there, as Michael was slipping away from her, she had felt utterly bereft and alone. Just like when I found my father's corpse.

She clutched the paper on her hand more tightly as she's taken back to the present. She needs to get out of here.

"Thank you." She says to Varga. "Believe me when I say that I know–" she pauses, remembering with intensity a different kind of love she had before, a love which ended with a confession of betrayal. "I know how you feel."

He gives her a semi-bow. "Now, I've been waiting for this moment for a very long time and therefore I'm more than ready. Let's have that death sentence now then, shall we?" He finishes with a single clap of his hands, stunning everyone from the abrupt change of mood.

Selene can sense he doesn't do well with public exposure – and prolonged handling of matters that can possibly be dealt with sooner as much as she did. There are more common things they share it seems.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you but you're not going to die. Not today."

The audience were muttering to each other again. This was just about the most exciting thing the coven, the Eastern Coven at least, had to witness in the absence of their usual evening parties.

"Tomorrow morning, then?" He sounded hopeful and lively. "Good! Always a lovely time. It's been a while since I've had the chance to be reacquainted with my warm old friend. I think I've forgotten my last sunrise. Or sunset for that matter." Right. He's back to his charming self, Selene thought.

"I'm giving you pardon," She takes a pause for effect. "Absolution for all your crimes."

"Selene–"

"I'm not finished yet."

Silence.

"I'm also naming you Master of the Household. You will supervise the training of the existing and new recruits, and also, what do you call it? The Hand of The Queen. The title is yours, if you so wish to take it."

"Selene."

"Cassius."

"The council has a...way of doing things," he says cautiously.

"I'm aware of that. I've watched Viktor handle a thousand trials over the years. He had carried out more death sentences than were necessary. Pardoning was a foreign concept to him. Even his own daughter...He was my sire, the closest thing I had to having a father but that relationship had been built on lies. No matter how much you make me be like him – do you really think giving me his seat in the council, his throne, will make me honor the memory of the man who slaughtered my family?"

"I did not mean to offend, your grace. However, Varga is an entirely different matter–"

"–loved someone he wasn't supposed to."

"I'm sorry?"

"Varga loved someone he wasn't supposed to," She repeats calmly. "Forgive me for not punishing a man for that reason. Shouldn't we be thankful, at least, that it wasn't a lycan this time?" Her sarcasm sounded bitter.

"Selene." It was David who tried to stop her this time. He gripped her arm lightly. "He almost killed you. Pardoning him is one thing. That I can accept, but making him your Hand…I can't just…" he struggles, lost for words. "I thought I'd lost you then." He ends quietly.

"You don't trust him," Selene says, ignoring his last words.

"No, I don't."

"You don't trust the man who stopped and attacked Marius before he had the chance to get to you?"

David was taken aback and Varga looked at her again, thick eyebrows furrowing, with eyes saying, what are you on about?

Nonetheless both men blushed, embarrassed. And like any man in the given situation, they resolved to respond with silence.

Typical. Selene was amused, despite herself.

"Anyway, it's settled. You forced me to take over Viktor's place. He was the Elder of the Elders. I know how it goes. Nobody has ever overridden his veto. Not even when all the council's votes go against his. I do not see why I can't have that same right."

"Very well!" Cassius all but raised his arms above his head in surrender and moved to stand up. "I just hope you know what you're doing," then he remembers himself and who he was talking to. "My queen." Cassius gives her a bow before turning away to leave. The other members of the council did the same.

"I do," she says, with little conviction. She was tired. "Varga."

"Selene." He really takes a good long bow this time, with one hand on his stomach and the other on his back. The perfect servant. Selene has a feeling he has been longing to do that for a while now.

"Proceed to my quarters after you're done here."

"Alright, I–"

"Be quick about it, please." She was now standing up from her throne, the piece of paper she has been holding was now tucked under her left sleeve, right where she used to keep a few strands of Eve's hair before her daughter left her. Then she proceeded to go down the three steps it took for her to be the ruthless and unimportant Selene again. Everyone at once cleared a path for her to walk through.

She goes to Varga before leaving. "Bring three of your best man. No more, no less."

"Okay. But why? And why are we whispering?" She doesn't appreciate the amusement in his voice but decides to ignore it.

"How old are you? You should grow a stubble." Selene catches David's eye as he too, stood up and descended the raised platform. "On second thought, don't."

"What?"

"You and your chosen men–"

"Bearded men?" She was about to slap him but thought better of it. I need to get out of here.

"–will take my daughter to the Nordic coven."

"Not a funny bone then. Okay, got it. Wait..." he pauses. "You're entrusting your daughter to me?"

"I'll be following you shortly." I'm no fool. She leaves Varga then, and exits the grand hall. She hears Eve call her but motions her not to follow.

Alone at last, Selene opens the glass windows of the nearest balcony she sees and reads the now crumpled paper for just about the hundredth time.

FOUND IT. Think we've got a lead on M too. Meet us on the way to Cold Hell. - K