Hello, hello!
I am proud to present to you my latest work. This is a semi-AU slash. Though the pairing is slashed, I only rated it PG-13 because it's not at all graphic. I really hope you like this; there isn't enough SeleneErika fiction out there, which is surprising because—I think, at least—they would make a great couple in an AU.
As for my other current work, Sanguis Et Potentia, I'm sorry it has been so delayed. I wanted to get this out of the way before I continued, and then I wanted to finish The Da Vinci Code (a GREAT book, by the way). I did both of those today. And now, with finals coming up I'll be getting out of school early every day, so I should have plenty of time to write.
To Disclaim: I do not own Underworld, Selene or Erika, and I do not claim to.
So, without further ado, More than Meets the Eye
As the old saying goes, there is more to me than meets the eye. Though it is cliche, I find that a lot of things in my life are, and the saying does fit so well.
Because there is more to me than meets the eye. I am not trying to justify my actions; I am well past that point. But I don't find much of anything in this life worth feeling happy about.
That is, before her.
I was so young when I was turned, not too long ago. It was another of Kraven's careless and selfish indulgences. He met me at a nightclub in the 1970's and worked his charm on me. I was so naive; I absolutely adored him. I thought he adored me.
I was swept away from my life in that one night. The change of pace never really struck me until it was too late. You see, I had always been looking for excitement in my mortal life, in one way or another. Whether it was at bars, with men—what have you.
Kraven had been just the excitement I thought I was looking for.
I had imagined that I would spend my immortal life in Kraven's arms, without a care in the world. I imagined I would have long discussions with the most interesting people, people who had been around during the most interesting historical events.
Oh, naive little me. As it turned out, Kraven dropped me after that first night, and all the other vampires are boring and vain. All they care about is either the war, or what position in the aristocracy they hold. And since I am so young, like most fledgings I was put in a service position. I spend my nights and sometimes days personally attending to Lord Kraven himself. I find it ironic how I would have liked the job had he not dumped me like yesterday's garbage.
All I really wanted was to get out of this damned lowly maid position! I had no intention of waiting several hundred years for myself to gain face value, so to speak. I am no soldier, a Death Dealer, so the only hope I have in speeding up my rise in social class is kissing ass.
I force myself to do it all the time, as much as I loathe it. But is there anything I haven't come to loathe? Well, yes, actually. There is something, someone, I have actually grown to like—even to love.
One thing I will credit Kraven for is his excellent taste in women. He has an infatuation with Selene, even though she is less than friendly with him.
Selene. A Death Dealer, one of the best of them. She's beautiful, determined, and hates Kraven. Though she is cold and distant to nearly everyone, I always knew there was more to her. On the outside we appear polar opposites. But once all clothes and egos are cast aside, things are really quite different.
The only good thing, perhaps, about my job, is that Kraven always sends me to attend to Selene. I always loved this. It gave me an excuse to be around her, even when she treated me like everyone else. I no longer need an excuse, though. I can revel in more than just being in her presence. Oh, things have changed quite a bit since those days.
It had started out as a usual night at the mansion, only several months ago. Selene and Kraven were yelling at each other over something. Kraven must have said something—I think it may have been about her deceased mortal family—and Selene utterly snapped.
Neither Selene herself, nor Kraven, saw her powerful left hook coming. Selene must have been shocked at her own actions. She realised that she had pissed Kraven off beyond belief, and hitting the coven leader is not something you can get away with.
Kraven must have recovered from his shock first. He took the opportunity to throw her against the wall, causing a nasty gash on her forehead. Selene certainly could have overpowered him, but I doubt she would risk the punishment it would cause.
Battered and bruised, both physically and emotionally, Kraven took the opportunity to kick her around some more. In a seething rage, he whipped out his handgun and put the barrel to her forehead. Many threatening words were said, but Kraven was not about to kill his love, so the final assault he inflicted upon her was a swift and painful pistol-whip.
I stood in the doorway both terrified and fuming during the entire conflict, but when Selene left the room I hurried down the hall so she wouldn't see me.
I crept into her room about thirty minutes later, though Kraven had not sent me. She was asleep on her bed when I entered, and her wounds had not been attended to.
She stirred and her eyes fluttered open. She looked at me with a softness I had never seen in her before.
"What are you doing here?" She always asked me that when I approached her chambers, but this time there was no hostility in her tone.
"Your wounds. They need to be cleaned," was what I managed to get out.
I had expected her to dismiss me, but to my surprise and delight she delicately sat up.
I knelt down to a mahogany cabinet a retrieved some first-aid supplies. Walking to her bed, I noticed the nasty cuts and bruises on her back, under her tank top.
Sitting down behind her, I bit my lip in concern. "You might need to lift your shirt up a bit so I can clean those," I said, trying not to blush.
I felt her tense a little when I applied the antiseptic, but she quickly covered it up. With a sigh she let her shoulders sag, an action which absolutely astounded me. The small gesture spoke volumes for Selene.
Once I was done cleaning the wounds on her back I got up from the bed and walked around to stand in front of her, placing the cloth and the bottle of antiseptic on her bedside table.
She had a couple of bruises and cuts on her face, which I took notice of. Placing my hand lightly under her chin to tilt her head towards me, I ran my other hand lightly over the gash on her forehead. She breathed in and out deeply, her eyes closed and face passive. In that moment I knew that, for now at least, the lust I felt for her might be returned.
The half-moon cut on her cheek from she was struck with the pistol still bled freely. Slowly I leaned in closer to her and brought my mouth to the wound. As I licked the little droplets of blood running down her cheek, she turned her face closer to mine and captured my mouth with hers.
I moved my hands down her neck and explored her perfect shoulders while I could feel her own hands near my waist. I leaned in closer, gently lying down on the bed, bringing her with me.
That night was the first night we explored each other. That night was when I started to really get to know Selene. Not Selene the Soldier, but Selene the Woman, Selene the Lover. I fear she will always be a that soldier on the outside—this is not mine to change—but as long as my immortal life is, I will always remember her for what she is when we're alone. For I know that her interior is very separate from her soldier shell, no matter what one might think. Selene the Soldier takes without giving, but Selene the Lover gives. Selene the Lover gives more than she'll ever know. She gives me not only pleasure and company, but hope for the future and assurance that we are never just what our outsides might portray. Hope not only for her and her cold exterior, but for me and what I might have to say, because there is more to me than meets the eye; more than you could ever imagine.