| "Blood and Sand" - Lucian/Kraven, PG-13 - Underworld |
[Aug. 25th, 2005|10:37 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  lonely | ] |
Title: Blood and Sand
Author: Lemur (Lemur710@aol.com)
Fandom: Underworld
Pairing: Lucian/Kraven
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Blood and knives.
Disclaimer: Underworld and its character belong to lots of people who aren’t me, namely those fellows at 20th Century Fox and Lakeshore.
Feedback: That’d be great. Especially constructive criticism.
Archive: List archives; otherwise, just ask. :)
Summary: A fateful meeting on a special day.
Author’s notes: Written in an hour for the ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif?v=92.2) contrelamontre Birthday challenge. And with all props to Michael Sheen who rocks beyond the telling of it.
Blood and Sand
By Lemur
The moon glowed dimly over the Nile, just a sliver in the sky casting a faint blue light on the water. White lines in the current waved as Lucian stood in the sand, his bare feet grinding into the granules still warm from the day’s sun. He waited.
Behind him, the camel’s reins jangled with the local beadwork and the animal sighed sleepily, a day laboring beast of burden made to work on into the night. Lucian sympathized. Had he any other means of transport aside from his own worn feet – and this far distant location was too far and too distant to be reached on foot in a day’s time – then he would have readily taken it. Camels didn’t take well to Lycans anyway.
A small caravan approached, just cresting the nearest hill, which had hidden it from view for likely the last several hours of their trek. Lucian shook his head at the ridiculous frippery: Two camels, each bearing an opulent, cushioned seat, and tasseled reins. Bells jingled from their mounts like the clatter of gold coins, or perhaps, they carried gold coins with them; Lucian would not have been surprised. They bore every touch of native finery.
“Lucian,” Kraven called out in a smug greeting as his camel approached. His voice sounded as arrogant as ever, but his bearing belied every ounce of confidence; he held his back rigidly straight and the hand that held the camel’s reigns did so with white-knuckled force. In other circumstances, he would have lounged across the beast, perhaps with some supple servant girl with an open wrist by his side. Now, he had only his faithful Soren by his side, whose narrowed eyes looked at Lucian, then past him, seeing that he had complied to their agreement. Lucian had. He hadn’t even brought a bodyguard as Kraven did. He was not so fearful.
“Keep watch.” Kraven gave the command to Soren as he slid from atop his beast. Lucian smiled when the vampire stumbled upon the dirt. Little irked Kraven more than losing his façade of absolute strength and power. He still hadn’t learned the hard-won lesson that Lucian had: Facades slip easily, but real strength and real power never slip at all. “Lucian,” Kraven said again with a friendly smile. “I’m glad you came.”
“Say my name again and I’ll think there’s someone listening,” Lucian said quickly, his voice low and deadly, but more deadly still when he added, “Kraven.”
Kraven smirked unpleasantly, his fanged teeth showing white in the dim. “In polite society, it is a way of showing respect.”
“It is your way of wasting time. I have no need for your pleasantries.” Lucian pulled out the short-bladed knife from the pouch at his waist. “Let us get on with it.”
Kraven nearly licked his lips, though whether hungry for the power or the promise of blood, Lucian didn’t speculate. Instead, he gripped his arm, turning the scarred and branded skin toward his blade. He cut and he bled. It would have been easier, perhaps, to let Kraven do it or even Soren, but the idea was loathsome. This pact was loathsome, but it was all a means to an end.
Blood flowed down Lucian’s arm as he turned the blade edge down, shaving off the skin, flaying his own limb. Lifeblood, he thought. Penance. A sacrifice for the future and a goal more far off. If Viktor believed him dead, Viktor would sleep. He would stop hunting him and finally – finally – Lucian could do what must.
He grimaced, letting out a small grunt as the tip of the knife grazed a bundle of nerves. The blood dripped freely now from his fingers. He was sure Kraven and Soren could smell it, taste it in the air, could perhaps even tell it was Lycan blood that clotted in the cooling Egyptian sands. How abundant, how plentiful like the Nile’s water in the harvesting season, how very priceless.
With a last sigh, he pulled the blade through the skin and held now, in his hands, this piece of his flesh, the branding coated with blood. From this angle, it was unfamiliar. It had more detail, more breadth than he’d realized. He swallowed the pain; it was not so much, not in comparison, anyway. Without a word, he handed it to Kraven.
The vampire gripped the sheet of skin greedily, absently licking a bloody finger as he admired his treasure. “Oh, you are the most thoughtful man,” he cooed. “This is the finest gift.” He smiled up at Lucian. Amazing how cruel ambition could shine in the eyes. “It is the day of my birth, you see. Seven hundred thirty-one years.”
Lucian blinked at the number, faintly surprised that one so old could be so ruthless and deceptive to his own kind. But Kraven was deceptive, and trusted by Viktor, so it mattered little. “Do you count from the day you were born or the day you were made?”
“Both, and I celebrate twice.” Kraven gave a disgustingly charming grin.
Lucian looked away to pull the bandaging from his pouch. He wrapped it tightly about his arm, cinching the flow of blood. The rough fabric tongued the wet, raw plains of the wound; it would hurt when he removed it for cleaning in the village.
“With your gift, it becomes my time to rule. I could ask for nothing better.”
“I wish you luck with it,” Lucian said dryly. He tied the bandage off with a gentle tug. “Do not forget our agreement. Or I will find ways to remind you that you will not like.”
Kraven stepped boldly closer, the skin held to his face. He breathed in deeply, and thickly licked his lips. “I’ll not forget.”
“Kraven.” Lucian nearly laughed, as he eyed the vampire with revulsion. “So in love with your own power. Go now, leave. Take your prize to Viktor and bother me no more. Put the old man to sleep, Kraven.”
“It will be centuries until we meet again.”
“And it will be centuries too soon.” Lucian turned, but Kraven seized his bloody hand and held him fast. Lucian stood firm as his hand was lifted to Kraven’s mouth and his blood-soaked fingers slid into his mouth. He sighed impatiently.
“I will miss our talks.” Kraven lapped across Lucian’s palm and his tongue shined red in the moonlight.
“You will not remember them so fondly if you do not let go.”
Kraven smirked and took a parting lick before releasing his hand. “Farewell, Lucian. I will remember your gift to me every time I celebrate another year on this earth.”
“You had best remember it more often than that.” Lucian stepped close, pulling himself to his full height. In his peripheral vision, he saw Soren tense to attack, but he stayed and Lucian stopped short of touching Kraven, only loomed over him, bore down on him with his eyes. “Everything you become from this ‘celebration’” – he spat the word – “to the next, you become because of me. I am your greatest benefactor, Kraven. And you will owe me your soul.”
The arrogant fire in Kraven’s eyes dimmed, though his jaw hardened in defiance.
“You will remember,” Lucian said again, gravely.
“I will remember.” It was a sharp whisper, but it was enough.
Lucian stepped away. Then, with a small smile of his own, he reached back into his pouch and removed a small coin. He tossed it to Kraven, who caught with a graceless fumble. “Enjoy some wine tonight, Kraven,” he said. “In honor of your birth. And think of me.”
Lucian stalked away, his mind full of plans and only a few short lifetimes of peace to fulfill them.
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| Comments: |
From: ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.2) woodlandwines
2005-08-25 09:03 pm (UTC)
I don't want to do constructive critisism :-P | (Link)
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I just want to SQUEEEE! Lucian fic! Lucian fic in a very well described setting, btw. Someone's broadening their horizons. :-D
From: woodlandwines
2005-08-25 09:08 pm (UTC)
Re: I don't want to do constructive critisism :-P | (Link)
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I should _really_ learn to spell criticism, though. That's just sad. :-S
![[User Picture]](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/51838337/7873145) | From: lemur710
2005-08-25 11:36 pm (UTC)
Re: I don't want to do constructive critisism :-P | (Link)
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Someone's broadening their horizons. :-D
I know! There wasn't a reference to cold or rain anywhere! Ha. ;) 'Course, I did manage to get some water in there. Ah, well. Baby steps, right?
*sigh* Lucian is so much cooler than I can write him. Heck, he's cooler than his own film, the poor bastard. Michael Sheen is so underappreciated. I would fangirl him properly if it wouldn't take away from the valuable time I spend on Orlando. ;)
Thanks for reading, reisling. :P I appreciate it.
Interesting. I think I like this one better than the last one I read. | |
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