'Underworld' Fic- Invisible Ink (1/1)
Title: Invisible Ink
Fandom: Underworld
Characters: Tanis, Viktor, Kraven, blink-and-you'll-miss-her Selene
Rating: PG
Words: 857
Summary: A decisive moment in the coven's history is witnessed by the one person that paid attention to everything.
Spoilers: References to the events of Rise of the Lycans; takes place two months after the film ends.
A/N: This is a birthday gift for not_tragedi.
When Kraven came back to the coven, he was alone. He was bloodied, charred, gaunt, and haggard, but he was also victorious. He carried a broken sword and a disgusting strip of flesh. Tanis watched from the corner as the Death Dealer presented both to Viktor.
Viktor stared the tarnished silver hilt of the weapon, which even in its disheveled state was ornate and beautiful. Then he handed it to one of his attendants.
“Have it melted down,” he said sharply. “I don't want to know what its new use is to be.”
The servant looked confused, but had the good sense to stay quiet.
Viktor turned to Kraven. “Let me see the other.”
Kraven held up the raw bit of skin, which was still covered in blood.
“Lucian's brand, my lord.”
Tanis frowned. Had Lucian been branded? He didn't remember such a thing being done.
No, he never had been branded. His fall from Viktor's grace, his escape, they had all happened so quickly, it had never been done...
What?
Lycan branding was a process that took weeks. The initial mark was burned into the flesh, and then a silver press was tightly bound to the still-smoldering wound and held there until the symbol was permanently imprinted into the healed skin. It was a torturous operation, one that kept the slave in great pain and sickness. In Tanis's memory, two had died of it, the constant exposure too much to bear for less robust lycans.
But he honestly could not recall a time that Lucian had been forced through it. Until the last few days of Son...the last coven, Lucian had truly been Viktor's pet, had been in the closest to Viktor's good graces any lycan ever would be.
But Tanis knew Lucian. Lucian was ruthless, focused, single-minded.
“Where is the pendant? I told you to bring back the pendant?”
Tanis's head perked up again. Only he knew the two distinct significances of that deceptive piece of jewelry. Kraven certainly didn't.
Kraven shrugged. “The thing was destroyed, my lord. I watched it melt.”
Viktor cocked his head quickly to an angle, which Tanis suspected was an involuntary movement. The Elder had been slightly twitchy ever since the battle with Lucian that had left him nearly dead. “You're sure?” His voice was soft and deadly.
At Kraven's nod, Viktor took another long look at the shred of embossed skin.
“Tanis, what are your thoughts?”
Tanis started just a little. In the two months since the siege at the old coven, Viktor had consulted him very little, not on the newly-turned vampires, not on the course of action to take in this strange war, not on the girl that now trained with the freshly-enlisted Death Dealer downstairs. He suspected Viktor resented the debt he now owed him for taking such care of him and the other two Elders.
“Well, my lord,” Tanis said slowly, “there is still much to be done, but if Lucian is truly dead,” at that he paused and shot Kraven a suspicious look, “then perhaps there is less of a rush in which to do them.”
Kraven glared at Tanis, but Tanis looked straight ahead at Viktor. This was an important moment, he could tell. He had a sense for these things.
After several long moments of consideration, Viktor finally nodded. “You are right.” He turned his attention to Kraven. “For you duty to your coven, we commend you. Go, clean yourself up. When you are rested, we will mourn our losses and celebrate your victory.”
Kraven bowed deeply before turning toward the door. Tanis retreated into the shadows and followed.
“Wait,” he said sharply when they were both out of the hearing of the crowd in the hall.
Kraven turned, his scowl deepening. “What do you want?”
“The truth,” Tanis hissed. “We both know you left out some important details back there.”
“It's really none of your business.” A small bit of spittle escaped Kraven's mouth with the last syllable and landed on Tanis's face.
Disgusted, Tanis wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “I will find out what really happened. Just tell me one thing.”
“And what,” more saliva went flying, this time missing Tanis's face by mere inches, “would that be?”
“Is Lucian really dead?”
Kraven stiffened his posture. “Of course he is.”
For the first time in the several weeks that he had known this detestable man, Tanis was grateful that Kraven was such a horrible liar when it came to direct questioning.
He now had leverage. He just needed proof.
But, truthfully, he liked Lucian. It could wait.
Just as he returned to the hall where Viktor sat enthroned, surrounded by so many new vampires, Tanis heard the Elder speak another order to another servant. “No go and fetch the girl. I wish to speak with her.”
Tanis returned to his corner to watch the girl walk towards the throne, her eyes fierce and desperate and hopeful. She knew nothing. None of the hangers-on knew anything. Only he knew.
He would have to write all this down, if only for himself.
Fandom: Underworld
Characters: Tanis, Viktor, Kraven, blink-and-you'll-miss-her Selene
Rating: PG
Words: 857
Summary: A decisive moment in the coven's history is witnessed by the one person that paid attention to everything.
Spoilers: References to the events of Rise of the Lycans; takes place two months after the film ends.
A/N: This is a birthday gift for not_tragedi.
When Kraven came back to the coven, he was alone. He was bloodied, charred, gaunt, and haggard, but he was also victorious. He carried a broken sword and a disgusting strip of flesh. Tanis watched from the corner as the Death Dealer presented both to Viktor.
Viktor stared the tarnished silver hilt of the weapon, which even in its disheveled state was ornate and beautiful. Then he handed it to one of his attendants.
“Have it melted down,” he said sharply. “I don't want to know what its new use is to be.”
The servant looked confused, but had the good sense to stay quiet.
Viktor turned to Kraven. “Let me see the other.”
Kraven held up the raw bit of skin, which was still covered in blood.
“Lucian's brand, my lord.”
Tanis frowned. Had Lucian been branded? He didn't remember such a thing being done.
No, he never had been branded. His fall from Viktor's grace, his escape, they had all happened so quickly, it had never been done...
What?
Lycan branding was a process that took weeks. The initial mark was burned into the flesh, and then a silver press was tightly bound to the still-smoldering wound and held there until the symbol was permanently imprinted into the healed skin. It was a torturous operation, one that kept the slave in great pain and sickness. In Tanis's memory, two had died of it, the constant exposure too much to bear for less robust lycans.
But he honestly could not recall a time that Lucian had been forced through it. Until the last few days of Son...the last coven, Lucian had truly been Viktor's pet, had been in the closest to Viktor's good graces any lycan ever would be.
But Tanis knew Lucian. Lucian was ruthless, focused, single-minded.
“Where is the pendant? I told you to bring back the pendant?”
Tanis's head perked up again. Only he knew the two distinct significances of that deceptive piece of jewelry. Kraven certainly didn't.
Kraven shrugged. “The thing was destroyed, my lord. I watched it melt.”
Viktor cocked his head quickly to an angle, which Tanis suspected was an involuntary movement. The Elder had been slightly twitchy ever since the battle with Lucian that had left him nearly dead. “You're sure?” His voice was soft and deadly.
At Kraven's nod, Viktor took another long look at the shred of embossed skin.
“Tanis, what are your thoughts?”
Tanis started just a little. In the two months since the siege at the old coven, Viktor had consulted him very little, not on the newly-turned vampires, not on the course of action to take in this strange war, not on the girl that now trained with the freshly-enlisted Death Dealer downstairs. He suspected Viktor resented the debt he now owed him for taking such care of him and the other two Elders.
“Well, my lord,” Tanis said slowly, “there is still much to be done, but if Lucian is truly dead,” at that he paused and shot Kraven a suspicious look, “then perhaps there is less of a rush in which to do them.”
Kraven glared at Tanis, but Tanis looked straight ahead at Viktor. This was an important moment, he could tell. He had a sense for these things.
After several long moments of consideration, Viktor finally nodded. “You are right.” He turned his attention to Kraven. “For you duty to your coven, we commend you. Go, clean yourself up. When you are rested, we will mourn our losses and celebrate your victory.”
Kraven bowed deeply before turning toward the door. Tanis retreated into the shadows and followed.
“Wait,” he said sharply when they were both out of the hearing of the crowd in the hall.
Kraven turned, his scowl deepening. “What do you want?”
“The truth,” Tanis hissed. “We both know you left out some important details back there.”
“It's really none of your business.” A small bit of spittle escaped Kraven's mouth with the last syllable and landed on Tanis's face.
Disgusted, Tanis wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “I will find out what really happened. Just tell me one thing.”
“And what,” more saliva went flying, this time missing Tanis's face by mere inches, “would that be?”
“Is Lucian really dead?”
Kraven stiffened his posture. “Of course he is.”
For the first time in the several weeks that he had known this detestable man, Tanis was grateful that Kraven was such a horrible liar when it came to direct questioning.
He now had leverage. He just needed proof.
But, truthfully, he liked Lucian. It could wait.
Just as he returned to the hall where Viktor sat enthroned, surrounded by so many new vampires, Tanis heard the Elder speak another order to another servant. “No go and fetch the girl. I wish to speak with her.”
Tanis returned to his corner to watch the girl walk towards the throne, her eyes fierce and desperate and hopeful. She knew nothing. None of the hangers-on knew anything. Only he knew.
He would have to write all this down, if only for himself.