06-Feb-2001
Note: The arc is currently under a massive revision, and will be under revision for at least another four to six months, so there will be some discontinuities until I can get everything fixed.
Author: Dan
Genre: epic AU
Pairings: NA
Disclaimer: not mine, don't sue.
Warnings: AU, a positive plethra of OCS, high
supernatural and yech factor, angst
Further Note: terms from such literary gems as Laurel
K. Hamilton are used and then twisted beyond all
recognition.
~~ Touched, you say that I am too
So much of what you say is true
I'll never find someone quite like you again
I'll never find someone quite like you
like you...~~
~Vast, Touched
It had been a long day. Not that I had done anything particularly strenuous, just attended one pointless round of negations and meetings, but it had been a long day. That's the only excuse that I can offer for what happened. It's the only excuse I have.
The elevator ride felt like an eternity of waiting. I let my forehead rest against the chill glass as I watched the ground drop away and the city spill out before me like shining jewels. I felt numb, stretched out, and like my skin was too thin to keep everything out.
When I stepped out of the elevator it felt as if every sense suddenly came back online, at about a hundred times their normal sensitivity. Something smelled odd. It was faint, piney-metallic-copper-sweet-musk-cinnamon smell that had never, ever lingered in the short hallway to my apartment before. I could feel my non-existent hackles go up. I felt nauseous and anxious.
My hand dropped to the gun that Wufei has insisted I learn to use, wear, and even sleep with. He had been making that argument long, long before that night, but it wasn't until after--it wasn't until he was bandaging my already healing wounds—that I gave his arguments any credence. The gun—a blue-tint finished .9mm Sauer Sig, recommend to me by Heero—no longer felt uncomfortably heavy in my grip. Hilde had dragged me down to the range for 'therapy' enough that I had finally gotten used to it.
Crouched against the wall, I nudged the door open with my foot and slid into the room, sidling along the wall not unlike a cockroach. Nothing was lurking in the entryway waiting to decapitate me, nor was anything in living room as far as I could tell. The scent was definitely stronger in my apartment, but I was hesitant to get up and investigate. The little I knew about how to move stealthily with a firearm came from the cheap action flicks I'd watched with Slyvia, Hilde, and Dorothy.
"Are you going to stay hunched down there like a frightened kitten, or are you going to come out?" asked slightly accented baritone. I grimaced, but stood up. It wouldn't do me any good to stay huddled entryway like an abused child. Holstering the gun with only a little fumbling I followed that distinctive scent to the kitchen.
A man I did not know was sitting in one of the white wicker chairs that Hilde had talked me into buying. He sat on it backwards, arms folded over the back. His hair was a brilliant russet color that couldn't be natural and his eyes were the color of spring leaves. The coloring was startling paired against the sharp Asian line of his cheekbones and the slight tilt to his eyes. He wasn't handsome in the generic way that Heero was handsome, nor did he have Duo's easy good looks, but he was striking. Something about him drew your eyes, and you found yourself wanting to study him. We stared at each other for a moment before I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.
"I thought I had made it perfectly clear that my apartment, my life, was not subject to pack interference. Or have you decided that does not apply to you?" I said with all the quiet menace I could muster.
He raised his head off his arms slowly, as if it was too heavy to move, as if he was almost asleep. The look in his eyes was anything but sleepy. It made my stomach clench.
"He said you'd be aggressive," he said more to himself than to me, talking about me as if I were a precocious child suddenly dropped in his lap. And that just pissed me off. I snarled at him when he suddenly narrowed his eyes at me and hissed: "Do you think you're dominant to me?"
Under any other circumstance I would have been careful, cautious, with the answer, but I let the irritation and the frustration of the day overwhelm my better judgment. I was tired of playing games. I let the anger that seemed to be constantly bubbling inside spill out of my mouth before I could think of the ramifications.
I felt my eyes bleed into rich amber as I stalked up to him, felt them turn that tawny wolf yellow. I lowered my face until we were kissing distance and growled at him: "Yes. And I am telling you to get out."
He was moving, attacking, before I could blink—before I could swear at my own stupidity.
We crashed to the ground with him on top. Dominance struggles generally lead to violence with the lukoi. I had forgotten that. But some part of me must have been expecting it, because I find myself going for the gun without instinctively. Found myself pulling it from its holster as we fell. He was raising one hand already gone monstrous when I calmly placed the .9mm Sauer Sig underneath his chin and thumbed off the safety. He glared at me with yellow eyes and I smiled sweetly. I was damned proud when my hand didn't shake.
"You would use a gun?" His voice was inhumanly deep.
"I'll use whatever it takes to stay alive." I scared myself with that infinitely calm, infinitely reasonable tone of voice. I was scared, but not surprised. Something inside me was breaking away, making violence such an easy thing.
Those yellow eyes held mine for a long, long time, searching for something that I couldn't fathom. We lay there breathing in each other's scent, watching each other for something, lay there long enough that my back ached.
He slid off me with inhuman grace and backed away, cautious. I got to my knees slowly, but kept the gun level at his head. His muscles tensed, bunched, and quivered with restrained movement. I didn't like that unspoken threat. "Silver bullets."
The man nodded slowly, his red hair falling in his eyes, obscuring them, but I knew they were still yellow. Lovely, we were still playing power games. I've spent the majority of my life playing them with words, now that I'm lukoi I get to play them with my life. He wrapped his power around me, drowning me with in the warm, spicy swell of his essence—of everything that made him lukoi, with everything that separated him from humankind. Without knowing what I was doing I fought back. Extending what little power that was mine out into the air. I slashed at him with it as if it were a knife. A line of blood appeared along one of those perfect cheekbones. Stunned he held up a hand to the narrow bleeding line.
"No one in the pack can do that."
"Well, it's just my day for doing things that the pack doesn't, isn't it?" I asked, snide and cranky.
He smiled, and somehow it was charming—in that James Dean, 'fuck off' kind of a way. We stared at each other for a long breathless moment until he turned his head and lifted his chin, very deliberately flashing the pale column of his neck. It was an indication of submission, a very casual one, but still an admission. Then he turned his head back to me and smiled that charming, careless smile as he held his hands out, palms face up, to show he was going play nice.
I watched him carefully as I got up off my knees. The gun stayed trained at his head while I tried to figure out what to do. He cocked his head to the side, the smile sliding into a smirk. I sighed. He smirked. I holstered the gun.
We both knew I wasn't going to shoot him now that I was out of immediate danger, and I couldn't hold the gun on him without my hands shaking like mad. It didn't take a Gundam pilot to tell me that shaking brought you down on the intimidation scale. I figure I had already impressed him enough by cutting him open with nothing but raw power. Unfortunately for me, I hadn't a clue how I did it.
The silence dragged out, going from that post adrenaline rush stillness to that uncomfortable waiting. I was going to have to do something soon, or he would take the initiative again. I had been swimming in the sea of politics long enough to know that I did not want that to happen. I decided that arrogance touched with malice might serve me well in the instance: "Now explain to me why the hell do you think you can just waltz into my home?"
His eyes had gone back to human-green, but I saw his beast pace behind them when he glared at me. I tensed, and had to fight to keep my hand from going back to my gun. Just because I had proven myself dominant once didn't mean I wanted to do it again. I backed up just a little.
"I don't have to take shit from you, bitch," he hissed, but there was something in his voice besides malice, something more ... teasing.
I gave him my version of Dorothy's evil smile. "Yes, you do. I'll ignore the bitch part this once since it's technically correct." I stepped closer to him, until our body heat mingled, and hissed, "but you will take whatever shit I give you."
He laughed, which startled me. "Well, at least you know better than to back off. Once you've proven your place, you have to fight for it everyday." His eyes went wicked as he lowered his voice to seductive whisper. "Everyday."
I just looked at him. From the expression on his face I guessed that I was supposed to have a different reaction, but I was just too exhausted to work up anything other mild irritation.
"Just tell me why you're here. I play enough of these pathetic games at work." I was tired now. The anger had seeped out of my body and left me cold and tired. My muscles were reminding me that I had just spent the last 58 hours on my feet working, something I wouldn't have been able to do two months ago. One of the nice things about being a lycanthrope is that my body can take far more abuse than it once did.
"Victor sent me." That got my attention. He gave me an innocuous smile when I shot him a startled look.
"Ulfric is worried about you," he said plaintively. He smiled sweetly when I gave him an annoyed look, but sobered quickly. "You never come to see him. You always send away his invitations, and it is important that he speaks to you. You stand out and that could put the pack in danger."
I waved a hand at his hair. "As if you don't stand out?"
He gave me the same sort of indulgent smile that you give to a temper tantrum throwing three-year-old. "Come see Victor, my lovely alpha."
"Alpha?" I cocked my head to the side. "Is that a technical term?"
He stared at me in utter shock. "You've been in the pack for at least two months and you still don't know the basic vocabulary?"
I shook my head. He groaned. "An alpha is a lycanthrope with a fuckload of power and the personality to use it. They are the enforcers and protectors of the pack. Geri, Freki, Heimdall, Hati, Skoll, and all the rest are always alphas." I watched him for a while with what I knew had to be an utterly blank expression. He stared at me for a moment. "You don't know what any of those positions are, do you?"
I shook my head. He looked a little distressed. "See? This is why you need to visit Victor. Either that, or someone is going to rip your head off for being rude. Do you know anything about the vampires?"
"They exist," I replied.
"The mages?"
I shook my head.
"Shit, sweetheart, you have got to come see Victor before you cause damage." He sighed, ran his hands through his hair, and looked at me for a while. The same cunning intelligence that Maxwell occasionally allowed to slip through his façade was plainly evident on this man's face as well. That alone should have given me a clue as to how hard this new addition to my life was going to be to control or predict. "Victor was right though."
"Right about what?" The suspicion in my voice was thick as caramel.
He raked a hand through his hair and gave me a disarming smile. "Victor said that you were strong enough to become Ulfric if you wanted. I didn't think so." He stalked up to me until our bodies were almost touching; he made the hem of my dress brush against my legs with just his body movement. "You want to know why, little princess? I didn't think you had it in you to kill. All your little speeches about Absolute Pacifism and peace, I thought you'd be too weak, too human, to fight for it."
He was stalking towards me as he spoke and I backed up. We kept that up until my back hit the refrigerator and he pinned me there. He put his hands against the refrigerator and leaned into me like he was doing a push up. I stared up into those startling eyes fascinated by this sudden change in attitude. It was intoxicating.
"But you aren't weak, are you?" His lips ghosted near my ear and I shivered. "You don't believe it do you? You don't believe in those stupid little ideals, not anymore. Maybe when you were sixteen and stupid, but not anymore." I sighed when he gently brushed my too long bangs away from my eyes. "But after our little fight, you've proven that you're definitely strong enough to fight for what you want, to kill for it. You want it even. You want to let your beast rule for a while. You want to let the simplicity of pack law rule." He pressed a lover-like kiss against my lips, but it felt like a violation. He back far enough that I was lost in those aspen-green eyes as he whispered: "Don't you, Relena?"
The back of my head was screaming a furious denial over and over again. No, I was not my beast. I had nothing to do with that bloodthirsty sensory driven brute monster. I did not want to fight anyone. I did not want to taste the blood that beat just under the surface. I did not want to run wild like that. It wasn't me. Couldn't be me. I couldn't have those desires, those needs. I wasn't allowed to. That desperate rejection turned into a mantra in my mind, and bubbled from my lips as a high-pitched keen denial.
He leaned into me, concerned maybe, and I slammed my right elbow into his neck and the palm of my left hand into his sternum. I threw him a good twenty feet away, over the bar that separated the kitchen from my living room.
Shaking like a dead leaf in an autumn gale, I tried to control my breathing. I stared at him, shocked more than horrified by what I had done. He got to his feet slowly, as if he hurt and was expecting to get knocked down again. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't place, wasn't able to decipher in my less than stable state.
I didn't move as he walked towards me. We stared at each other as he approached. He, infinitely cautious, and me, traumatized yet again. I could feel my nails digging into my face, leaving little tracks. But I could not seem to loosen my grip even as I got my voice under control.
"I am not that beast. I am not! I can't be. I can't. I have to be perfect." I was losing it, starting to babble as I fought to explain. Fought to explain away the hurt in his eyes and the sudden violence in my blood. But it was just too much right now. I was too tired. And he had just ripped away all the barriers I had put in place to protect my remaining humanity. "I can't want those things. I have to lead the people. All those people expect... God... "
I pressed my hand against my mouth and tried to stop the shuddering sobs that were starting to well up. Warm arms slipped around my shoulders and I jerked, struggling half-heartedly. This time all he did was grunt. A warm scent slid over my skin, enveloping me like a loving embrace. It was the pack, the scent of the lukoi. He was trying to reassure me.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed at you. I didn't know." His hand was running over my hair. I buried my face in the hollow between his neck and his broad shoulders. "I didn't realize. Shit, I've screwed up again."
He sounded so very ... young, and desolate, like some cherished dream had just been dashed to pieces. It was disconcerting, and brought me back to the situation and myself.
I pushed away from him, feeling hotly embarrassed. I'd drawn a gun on this man, let him touch me in ways I had only wanted Heero to touch me, thrown him over twenty feet, and then let him cuddle me, and I was starting to descend into definite melodrama. I was definitely losing my mind. "I don't even know your name."
He blinked those brilliant eyes at me again and then grinned. "Sorry 'bout that. Aidan Kusanagi, Hati for Ulfric Victor Ramanth."
"Relena, Relena Darlian, Foreign Minister of the United Earths Sphere Nations and your alpha," I said the last with more teasing affection than I felt, but it made him smile and that, for some reason, pleased me.
We shook hands in the middle of my devastated kitchen. The sheer absurdity of the situation hit me and I started to giggle. To my horror I found I just could not shut up. I just kept giggling hysterically in the middle of my kitchen. Aidan rubbed circles on my back, and I inhaled pack scent like a reassuring perfume. I slowly got myself back together; forced myself to rebuild the layers that protected me from the world.
Aidan's eyes were deadly serious when I looked back up at him. "You can't run from your beast. If you don't find peace with it, it will eat you alive."
I nodded, scared of him, scared of myself. Unfortunately, I knew he was speaking the truth. But I sure as hell didn't have to like it. But, like the rest of my life, the majority of the shit that I have to deal with I don't like. I closed my eyes. "Well, as long as I'm facing things that I don't want to face, I might as well go see Victor."
"Might as well." His voice was amused. He ran a hand over my hair. "You want me. I can smell it."
"And you want me. Doesn't mean you get what you want."
"No woman has said no yet."
"I get to be the first, aren't I lucky? Let's go."
We went.
End Part 2
(:./dan/wolf2)
