Prelude (Underworld Lucian Fanfiction)

50 - Chapter L: A Sail before the Winds

Forty-eight minutes later.

It was over. The final vote cast amid a tumultuous uproar as the fists of a shallow minority pounded their disapproval upon a battered oak table. The scene encapsulated by that most apt of immortal sayings: if vampires must choose one way, then lycans will choose another. Like comparing a pallid grave to a parliamentary shouting match. The loudest opponent on their right already thundering to his feet as though the floor were still open.

"Milords and ladies of the Gathering," he began with a pompous ceremony. "...I must protest." The one-eyed pack-leader of Berlin, Gustav had never had qualms about making himself or his objections heard. Raising his scarred palms to his peers, he called for silence before turning to face the one at their head. "Lycan-master, this is not some harmless exile living in a forgotten quarter," he said. "Surely his lordship can see that this is a highly suspect individual living in clear violation of the Oaths of Security Act of 1681..." He stabbed his index finger against the table. "...an individual without sufficient proof of merit. One that must be executed!"

There was a chorus of 'hear, hear's.

"Et cela, sans parler de...la..." Auguste was having a fit on his side of the council table, for a moment losing himself in his native tongue. "...la Statute of Communal Living," he added in English. As though a line dividing exiles from the den was enough reason to cut off her head.

Keeping her opinions to herself, Allegra allowed her finger to grace her chin in the face of this croak of naysayers. Watching Lucian more than Gustav or Auguste. He had barely registered their address, his thumb pressing into the skin above one eye, his scent masked in a void. Having exorcised his childish demons in private, he had spent the majority of the council meeting in a morose silence. The kind that led most to believe he was neither listening nor cared until he occasionally raised his face and graced his council with such memorable retorts as...

"The term 'merit,' gentlemen, is clearly defined as being at the sole discretion of this council..." The pause was remiss. "...and as this council has already voted, I fail to see how his lordship's perceived failure to understand a document...that he wrote in 1681...holds any relevance."

The controlled nature of his tone drawing more than a few guarded smiles from their number before Magnus unabashedly started to laugh in the background. The blood from his late supper seeping down his chin and the undisguised humour draining it all-the-more fast from Gustav's face. The silver remaining beneath the surface for even the smallest Change was grounds for dismissal in this hall.

Gustav closed his eyes for a measure and then turned from the Norseman to the source of his gripe. "Your case rests upon a loop-hole, milord?"

"There is no 'case,' Gustav." Lucian had switched from thumbing his brow to considering the position of his thumbs in relation to his hands. "There is merely the vote," he said. "...and by suggesting that my vote is in clear violation of the Oath, you are also suggesting that select members of this council have committed treason by voting in collusion with me." He put his thumbs together, raising his face to stare his opponent in the eye. "Now if that is the course of your inquiry, then I respectively advise this council to reopen the floor at once."

Allegra inhaled before it started. The tension rising by a claw. Like a chill tendril creeping its way forward as the void began to smell like death, making at least three of them look elsewhere as the rest of them waited on Justice to speak. Her voice taking its time for even she had an opinion.

"It is enough, Gustav," the Lady Morrigan finally said.

Sweet-tempered and kind she once had been, but a slaver's axe had given her a crueller sense of balance than the two halves of her face combined.