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seren_ccdChapter Four: I have seen the low-hanging sun speckled with mystic horrors.
Rating: T
Fandom: Underworld/BtVS
Pairing: Lucian and Tara
Disclaimer: Still not mine. Darn it. The title and chapter titles are from Arthur Rimbaud's poem, The Drunken Boat.
Summary: "I know that form," he said in a low voice. "I've... Seen it before. On a battlefield, centuries ago."
A/N: Once again, I'm taking from Norse mythology and altering it slightly for this story. There will be an epilogue after this chapter. Please let me know what you think.
The night once it began to fall, it fell fast and sharp. There was only a sliver of moonlight from the waning moon. Lucian spared a moment to look up and marveled at how he could still sense the pull even in death. His mouth twitched and he had a thought.
"I would like a weapon," he murmured.
"Then get one," Tara murmured back.
"And how do you suggest I go about doing that?" he asked.
"Wish for it," she said.
Lucian paused and considered that statement.
"That has to be the silliest thing I've ever heard you say," he said at last.
Even in the darkness, Lucian could practically hear Tara roll her eyes.
"I'm assuming that a big, strong warrior such as yourself had a weapon for most of his life," Tara said quietly. "It most likely was a part of you in the same way that your clothes were a part of you. Therefore, if you wish to have your weapon with you, it will be."
"What? Just like that?" he said.
"Just like that," she said.
Lucian furrowed his brow and thought. He remembered the weight of a sword in his hand, the way the blade would steer his momentum and how seamless it always felt. He opened his eyes and looked down. There it was resting in his hand, his sword of old, before he modified it to fit against his arm. He hefted it a few times and gave a very satisfied smile.
"Told you," Tara murmured.
"No need to gloat," Lucian murmured back.
The night went on. It must have been well past midnight when they heard the sound of someone walking up the path of the hill. Walking very loudly in fact. Lucian readied himself and Tara just watched.
A young male, no more than twenty, walked into view. He walked with a purpose and absolutely no heed to the scratches the brambles made on his legs. His hair glinted silver-blond in the moonlight and his eyes were vacant and unfocused.
Tara whispered a word in Latin. Then looked puzzled.
"I can't pinpoint the caster," she said. She repeated the word and shook her head. "He's being compelled but from a connection somehow deeper than a mere spell."
"Wait," Lucian said. "Do you feel that?"
They both paused and Tara shivered a little as she felt pure malice come into their presence. The young man had come to a halt a few feet away from the large rocks. He turned and faced the small copse of trees opposite the monument. Shadows seemed to form and create a mass of figures. A lone shape emerged from the figure-shadows.
Lucian sucked in a breath.
"What?" Tara whispered.
The moon suddenly came out from behind a small cloud and they saw her clearly. She was tall and strong in build. Her once blonde hair was lank and dirty. You could see that her features had at one time been fair and alluring, now they were bitter and aged.
"I know that form," he said in a low voice. "I've... Seen it before. On a battlefield, centuries ago. She appeared for a moment in flash and then my second in command was cut down."
He grimaced. "She smiled. I kept thinking I saw her out of the corner of my eye the entire time. Every time one of my men fell."
"A Valkyrie," Tara said breathlessly.
"Yes," Lucian intoned.
Tara and Lucian watched as she glided to the young man.
The similarity between the crone and young man was striking. The same shade of hair color, the slant to the nose, the thin upper lip and a full lower one.
She raised a hand and cupped the side of the young man's face and carressed it tenderly as though he were an infant; her worn face was kind and loving. The hand trailed down the side of his neck, down his chest and rested it against his solar plexus. Her face changed slowly from caring to hard and cold.
"Mine," she whispered harshly. Then she pulled.
Tara gasped loudly and then shouted, "No!"
The crone whirled around to see Tara and Lucian reveal themselves out of the darkness.
"Who?" she rasped harshly, her face contorted with rage. "Who dares to face me?"
She studied the pair and nodded in comprehension. Then she smiled meanly, her hand now fisted in the young man's shirt.
"Guardians are you?" she said mockingly. "I've heard of such. Why do you interrupt me here? Surely there are more... worthwhile pursuits you could be championing? I'm surprised at your bother with me."
"You cannot continue with this," Tara said softly in a strong voice that seemed to resonate in the air. "You will not be allowed to kill anymore."
"Are you to stop me?" the Valkyrie rasped. Then she laughed, a harsh and tortured noise that seemed to cause the moon to hide once again behind a cloud. "No. I don't think so. This is my right and it will be finished."
"Your right?" Lucian questioned.
She turned her baleful gaze on him.
"Yes," she said. "These should have been mine. My sons!"
Comprehension dawned on Tara and Lucian.
"When Odin took you into the sky..." Tara said.
"Oh yes. Swept me off into the sky to serve," she said with derision. "I've spent an eternity on battlefields. Taking souls from young men, weaving into a fabric of real blood and fake glory."
She gazed once again at the blank face of the boy. She dragged a fingernail down his cheek.
"So many strong sons," she whispered. "So much death."
"This is vengeance against Odin," Tara prompted trying to distract her from the mortal in her grasp.
The Valkyrie looked over at the witch.
"Oh no," she said. "Not against my Lord. His only sin against me was the arrogance of a God."
Her face contorted once more into a grin.
"I watched while Fenrir tore him limb from limb and my soul danced with glee," she said. "But, no. My vengeance is not with Odin."
"Your father," Tara said.
"I see you know much, witch. Yes. My father," the Valkyrie spat. "He let me go. As a payment! Sent me away from my home, from my family. From my intended."
Her attention switched back to the boy in front of her.
"My handsome farmer," she said softly leaning to nuzzle the neck of the motionless boy. "I would have borne him sons. Kept his house."
"Instead, he was given to your sister," Tara said in another flash of insight.
The Valkyrie snarled and whirled to face Tara.
"Enough! I swore I would return. I swore I would take them all back," she cried.
"You are systematically killing the men on this island for revenge," Lucian stated.
"Is that so hard to comprehend my Lord Lycan?" she said sweetly. Lucian flinched imperceptibly from the malice in her tone. "Oh yes. The whole world knows of your vengeance. I admire your persistance and drive. And..." she looked him up and down, "Your ruthlessness. You've had your chance at revenge. Could you honestly deny me mine?"
Lucian made no answer.
"I can," Tara said in a clear resounding voice.
"Oh, can you?" she said derisively. "After what your former lover did to avenge you? She tortured for you. She killed for you. She would have taken apart the world for you."
Lucian felt Tara stiffen beside him at the crone's words.
"And it certainly isn't like you haven't had your share of little paybacks over the years," the Valkyrie continued. "Was it truly a heart attack that killed you father? No one would have blamed you. All those things that brother wanted to do to you. Daddy and the back of his hand. That was the only contact you had for years wasn't it? So weak and pitiful you are.”
"Enough!" Tara said in a strong voice that shook the trees. "That girl is gone and I remain. You will stop this now."
Tara straightened to her full height and squared her shoulders and Lucian adopted her position, their shoulders touching slightly.
"We will stop you," Tara said softly.
"No," the Valkyrie said just as softly. "You will not."
She held out her other arm and gestured at the figure-shadows still hidden in the trees.
"Come my soldiers!" she called. "Into battle once again!"
The shadows came from the trees and formed into a set of four distinct figures. Lucian could just make out the identifying weapons and gear from very different countries. He hefted his sword in his hand.
"Tara," he questioned. She had begun to chant in a low voice, her attention on the Valkyrie.
"Keep them off me," she said in between snatches of Latin.
"I can kill them?" he asked walking forward a bit.
"No, they're already dead," she said. "Just slow them down."
"Right," Lucian muttered. He bowed his head briefly and then raised it, his face set in stone and his eyes flickering over the advancing soldiers. He took in their stances, their weaponry and their builds. He glanced quickly at their faces and wished he hadn't.
Agony and suffering was etched into every worn line of their faces. Their eyes screamed the pain that they couldn't physically voice. Lucian understood what had happened all at once. These were once noble warriors and she had kept them, kept their souls, from ascending. Now they followed a vicious master and hated every moment of it.
Lucian raised his sword and avoided their eyes as he strode forward.
The Valkyrie pressed her hand hard against the young boy’s chest and curled her fingers and pulled. A stream of red began to thread out from his chest. In a move perfected by centuries, she wound the boy’s soul around her hand and continued to pull.
“I bind you,” Tara shouted.
The Valkyrie shook as if struck. She shook her head and pulled at the boy again.
Lucian dodged a sword aimed at his head and thrust up with his sword across the chest of one of the soldiers. He spun and swung his sword at another advancing soldier. The sword passed through the neck of a Spaniard and the apparition stumbled and slowed down. Lucian then turned to face a large Moor whose scimitar whistled through the air and Lucian leaped at the last second out the way as the blade swished where his abdomen had been.
Tara held out her hands palms facing the Valkyrie.
“I bind you!” she yelled again.
The Valkyrie shrieked as the words hit her. Her footing slipped a little and the thread in her hand shook and the boy swayed.
Lucian dropped into a roll to escape the double barrage of the Scotsman and the Maori. He leapt up with a growl and quickly stabbed the Scotsman and then turned to focus his attack on the Spaniard who had recovered from the earlier grapple. The swords engaged in a dance of thrusts and parries. The Spaniard’s face in a rictus of anger and sorrow.
Tara inhaled deeply.
“I bind you!” she cried out.
The Valkyrie was thrown to the ground under the force behind the words. The boy fell to his knees as the thread stretched thinly between him and the gnarled fist of the crone. She wailed and shrieked and fought against the incantation.
The fight began to seep out of the warriors and Lucian was having no trouble in getting hits. He slowed down once he realised that the soldiers were doing little more than standing still, their weapons at the ready, but the fight had literally left them.
Lucian backed up slowly to stand near Tara. He kept one eye on the warriors and the other on the writhing Valkyrie.
“Release him and be forever bound,” Tara ordered.
The wail that came from the woman on the ground was so terribly human sounding that Tara’s resolve almost faltered in pity.
“Release him,” Tara ordered again in kind voice.
The Valkyrie’s lips trembled with frustration at the losing battle of wills. Her fingers slowly loosened their grip on the boy’s soul. Finally, they fell open and the red thread slowly wove it’s way back into the chest of the young man.
The Valkyrie cried out in anguish and hatred.
“You are forever bound,” Tara said. “Go back to where you belong.”
A golden light appeared on the horizon and charged towards the hill.
“No,” the Valkyrie whimpered.
Lucian’s eyes widened when the golden light turned into a large chariot led by four horses with a tall woman at the reins. Tara sucked in a breath at the sight.
The chariot slowed down and circled above the Guardians. The woman, adorned with flowing white robes and a stern expression that softened with a slight nod of recognition at Tara and Lucian. The Guardians nodded back. The woman then turned to the defeated Valkyrie lying prone on the ground.
“Sister in Arms,” she addressed. “Your vengeance is over. No longer will you have the strength of a deity. You will remain in the land you were born in.”
The golden Valkyrie raised her hand and with a deft pull unravelled the soul of her fallen sister. The thread was thin and black and wisped into the hand of the Valkyrie with little effort.
The woman on the ground groaned and rose up trying to grab onto her soul. It fell out of reach and she sobbed. Then with a last longing look at her descendant, she fell back to the ground and disappeared into dust that was carried away by a soft evening breeze.
The golden Valkyrie bowed her head and without a backwards glance, steered the chariot into the sky. Tara and Lucian watched it blend into the rising sun on the horizon.
Lucian turned to face the warriors still frozen in battle ready positions.
“Tara,” he whispered softly. “Do something for them.”
Tara smiled at the men and then with a wave of her hand, she said, “Your battles are over noble warriors. Go back to your lands and rest.”
The faces of the warriors relaxed and they closed their eyes and lowered their weapons and drifted off into the wind.
The only sounds heard on the hill top were the distant crashes of the waves on the shore below and the strong heartbeat of the young man.
Rating: T
Fandom: Underworld/BtVS
Pairing: Lucian and Tara
Disclaimer: Still not mine. Darn it. The title and chapter titles are from Arthur Rimbaud's poem, The Drunken Boat.
Summary: "I know that form," he said in a low voice. "I've... Seen it before. On a battlefield, centuries ago."
A/N: Once again, I'm taking from Norse mythology and altering it slightly for this story. There will be an epilogue after this chapter. Please let me know what you think.
The night once it began to fall, it fell fast and sharp. There was only a sliver of moonlight from the waning moon. Lucian spared a moment to look up and marveled at how he could still sense the pull even in death. His mouth twitched and he had a thought.
"I would like a weapon," he murmured.
"Then get one," Tara murmured back.
"And how do you suggest I go about doing that?" he asked.
"Wish for it," she said.
Lucian paused and considered that statement.
"That has to be the silliest thing I've ever heard you say," he said at last.
Even in the darkness, Lucian could practically hear Tara roll her eyes.
"I'm assuming that a big, strong warrior such as yourself had a weapon for most of his life," Tara said quietly. "It most likely was a part of you in the same way that your clothes were a part of you. Therefore, if you wish to have your weapon with you, it will be."
"What? Just like that?" he said.
"Just like that," she said.
Lucian furrowed his brow and thought. He remembered the weight of a sword in his hand, the way the blade would steer his momentum and how seamless it always felt. He opened his eyes and looked down. There it was resting in his hand, his sword of old, before he modified it to fit against his arm. He hefted it a few times and gave a very satisfied smile.
"Told you," Tara murmured.
"No need to gloat," Lucian murmured back.
The night went on. It must have been well past midnight when they heard the sound of someone walking up the path of the hill. Walking very loudly in fact. Lucian readied himself and Tara just watched.
A young male, no more than twenty, walked into view. He walked with a purpose and absolutely no heed to the scratches the brambles made on his legs. His hair glinted silver-blond in the moonlight and his eyes were vacant and unfocused.
Tara whispered a word in Latin. Then looked puzzled.
"I can't pinpoint the caster," she said. She repeated the word and shook her head. "He's being compelled but from a connection somehow deeper than a mere spell."
"Wait," Lucian said. "Do you feel that?"
They both paused and Tara shivered a little as she felt pure malice come into their presence. The young man had come to a halt a few feet away from the large rocks. He turned and faced the small copse of trees opposite the monument. Shadows seemed to form and create a mass of figures. A lone shape emerged from the figure-shadows.
Lucian sucked in a breath.
"What?" Tara whispered.
The moon suddenly came out from behind a small cloud and they saw her clearly. She was tall and strong in build. Her once blonde hair was lank and dirty. You could see that her features had at one time been fair and alluring, now they were bitter and aged.
"I know that form," he said in a low voice. "I've... Seen it before. On a battlefield, centuries ago. She appeared for a moment in flash and then my second in command was cut down."
He grimaced. "She smiled. I kept thinking I saw her out of the corner of my eye the entire time. Every time one of my men fell."
"A Valkyrie," Tara said breathlessly.
"Yes," Lucian intoned.
Tara and Lucian watched as she glided to the young man.
The similarity between the crone and young man was striking. The same shade of hair color, the slant to the nose, the thin upper lip and a full lower one.
She raised a hand and cupped the side of the young man's face and carressed it tenderly as though he were an infant; her worn face was kind and loving. The hand trailed down the side of his neck, down his chest and rested it against his solar plexus. Her face changed slowly from caring to hard and cold.
"Mine," she whispered harshly. Then she pulled.
Tara gasped loudly and then shouted, "No!"
The crone whirled around to see Tara and Lucian reveal themselves out of the darkness.
"Who?" she rasped harshly, her face contorted with rage. "Who dares to face me?"
She studied the pair and nodded in comprehension. Then she smiled meanly, her hand now fisted in the young man's shirt.
"Guardians are you?" she said mockingly. "I've heard of such. Why do you interrupt me here? Surely there are more... worthwhile pursuits you could be championing? I'm surprised at your bother with me."
"You cannot continue with this," Tara said softly in a strong voice that seemed to resonate in the air. "You will not be allowed to kill anymore."
"Are you to stop me?" the Valkyrie rasped. Then she laughed, a harsh and tortured noise that seemed to cause the moon to hide once again behind a cloud. "No. I don't think so. This is my right and it will be finished."
"Your right?" Lucian questioned.
She turned her baleful gaze on him.
"Yes," she said. "These should have been mine. My sons!"
Comprehension dawned on Tara and Lucian.
"When Odin took you into the sky..." Tara said.
"Oh yes. Swept me off into the sky to serve," she said with derision. "I've spent an eternity on battlefields. Taking souls from young men, weaving into a fabric of real blood and fake glory."
She gazed once again at the blank face of the boy. She dragged a fingernail down his cheek.
"So many strong sons," she whispered. "So much death."
"This is vengeance against Odin," Tara prompted trying to distract her from the mortal in her grasp.
The Valkyrie looked over at the witch.
"Oh no," she said. "Not against my Lord. His only sin against me was the arrogance of a God."
Her face contorted once more into a grin.
"I watched while Fenrir tore him limb from limb and my soul danced with glee," she said. "But, no. My vengeance is not with Odin."
"Your father," Tara said.
"I see you know much, witch. Yes. My father," the Valkyrie spat. "He let me go. As a payment! Sent me away from my home, from my family. From my intended."
Her attention switched back to the boy in front of her.
"My handsome farmer," she said softly leaning to nuzzle the neck of the motionless boy. "I would have borne him sons. Kept his house."
"Instead, he was given to your sister," Tara said in another flash of insight.
The Valkyrie snarled and whirled to face Tara.
"Enough! I swore I would return. I swore I would take them all back," she cried.
"You are systematically killing the men on this island for revenge," Lucian stated.
"Is that so hard to comprehend my Lord Lycan?" she said sweetly. Lucian flinched imperceptibly from the malice in her tone. "Oh yes. The whole world knows of your vengeance. I admire your persistance and drive. And..." she looked him up and down, "Your ruthlessness. You've had your chance at revenge. Could you honestly deny me mine?"
Lucian made no answer.
"I can," Tara said in a clear resounding voice.
"Oh, can you?" she said derisively. "After what your former lover did to avenge you? She tortured for you. She killed for you. She would have taken apart the world for you."
Lucian felt Tara stiffen beside him at the crone's words.
"And it certainly isn't like you haven't had your share of little paybacks over the years," the Valkyrie continued. "Was it truly a heart attack that killed you father? No one would have blamed you. All those things that brother wanted to do to you. Daddy and the back of his hand. That was the only contact you had for years wasn't it? So weak and pitiful you are.”
"Enough!" Tara said in a strong voice that shook the trees. "That girl is gone and I remain. You will stop this now."
Tara straightened to her full height and squared her shoulders and Lucian adopted her position, their shoulders touching slightly.
"We will stop you," Tara said softly.
"No," the Valkyrie said just as softly. "You will not."
She held out her other arm and gestured at the figure-shadows still hidden in the trees.
"Come my soldiers!" she called. "Into battle once again!"
The shadows came from the trees and formed into a set of four distinct figures. Lucian could just make out the identifying weapons and gear from very different countries. He hefted his sword in his hand.
"Tara," he questioned. She had begun to chant in a low voice, her attention on the Valkyrie.
"Keep them off me," she said in between snatches of Latin.
"I can kill them?" he asked walking forward a bit.
"No, they're already dead," she said. "Just slow them down."
"Right," Lucian muttered. He bowed his head briefly and then raised it, his face set in stone and his eyes flickering over the advancing soldiers. He took in their stances, their weaponry and their builds. He glanced quickly at their faces and wished he hadn't.
Agony and suffering was etched into every worn line of their faces. Their eyes screamed the pain that they couldn't physically voice. Lucian understood what had happened all at once. These were once noble warriors and she had kept them, kept their souls, from ascending. Now they followed a vicious master and hated every moment of it.
Lucian raised his sword and avoided their eyes as he strode forward.
The Valkyrie pressed her hand hard against the young boy’s chest and curled her fingers and pulled. A stream of red began to thread out from his chest. In a move perfected by centuries, she wound the boy’s soul around her hand and continued to pull.
“I bind you,” Tara shouted.
The Valkyrie shook as if struck. She shook her head and pulled at the boy again.
Lucian dodged a sword aimed at his head and thrust up with his sword across the chest of one of the soldiers. He spun and swung his sword at another advancing soldier. The sword passed through the neck of a Spaniard and the apparition stumbled and slowed down. Lucian then turned to face a large Moor whose scimitar whistled through the air and Lucian leaped at the last second out the way as the blade swished where his abdomen had been.
Tara held out her hands palms facing the Valkyrie.
“I bind you!” she yelled again.
The Valkyrie shrieked as the words hit her. Her footing slipped a little and the thread in her hand shook and the boy swayed.
Lucian dropped into a roll to escape the double barrage of the Scotsman and the Maori. He leapt up with a growl and quickly stabbed the Scotsman and then turned to focus his attack on the Spaniard who had recovered from the earlier grapple. The swords engaged in a dance of thrusts and parries. The Spaniard’s face in a rictus of anger and sorrow.
Tara inhaled deeply.
“I bind you!” she cried out.
The Valkyrie was thrown to the ground under the force behind the words. The boy fell to his knees as the thread stretched thinly between him and the gnarled fist of the crone. She wailed and shrieked and fought against the incantation.
The fight began to seep out of the warriors and Lucian was having no trouble in getting hits. He slowed down once he realised that the soldiers were doing little more than standing still, their weapons at the ready, but the fight had literally left them.
Lucian backed up slowly to stand near Tara. He kept one eye on the warriors and the other on the writhing Valkyrie.
“Release him and be forever bound,” Tara ordered.
The wail that came from the woman on the ground was so terribly human sounding that Tara’s resolve almost faltered in pity.
“Release him,” Tara ordered again in kind voice.
The Valkyrie’s lips trembled with frustration at the losing battle of wills. Her fingers slowly loosened their grip on the boy’s soul. Finally, they fell open and the red thread slowly wove it’s way back into the chest of the young man.
The Valkyrie cried out in anguish and hatred.
“You are forever bound,” Tara said. “Go back to where you belong.”
A golden light appeared on the horizon and charged towards the hill.
“No,” the Valkyrie whimpered.
Lucian’s eyes widened when the golden light turned into a large chariot led by four horses with a tall woman at the reins. Tara sucked in a breath at the sight.
The chariot slowed down and circled above the Guardians. The woman, adorned with flowing white robes and a stern expression that softened with a slight nod of recognition at Tara and Lucian. The Guardians nodded back. The woman then turned to the defeated Valkyrie lying prone on the ground.
“Sister in Arms,” she addressed. “Your vengeance is over. No longer will you have the strength of a deity. You will remain in the land you were born in.”
The golden Valkyrie raised her hand and with a deft pull unravelled the soul of her fallen sister. The thread was thin and black and wisped into the hand of the Valkyrie with little effort.
The woman on the ground groaned and rose up trying to grab onto her soul. It fell out of reach and she sobbed. Then with a last longing look at her descendant, she fell back to the ground and disappeared into dust that was carried away by a soft evening breeze.
The golden Valkyrie bowed her head and without a backwards glance, steered the chariot into the sky. Tara and Lucian watched it blend into the rising sun on the horizon.
Lucian turned to face the warriors still frozen in battle ready positions.
“Tara,” he whispered softly. “Do something for them.”
Tara smiled at the men and then with a wave of her hand, she said, “Your battles are over noble warriors. Go back to your lands and rest.”
The faces of the warriors relaxed and they closed their eyes and lowered their weapons and drifted off into the wind.
The only sounds heard on the hill top were the distant crashes of the waves on the shore below and the strong heartbeat of the young man.
