A Father's Love
by vexatively

M.

Viktor followed his nose.

It had never let him down, not when it truly counted, and he believed that it truly counted now.

The blood that gurgled at the pit of his stomach set a pounding pace in lieu of the blood that would have ran through his veins, pounding that had nothing to do with the fast pace with which he swept through the halls and more to do with the after-scent of his daughter in the breeze.

The trail wound to the garden that had always seemed to be their— his and Sonja’s— refuge. The lone willow tree, its branches barely tracing the surface of the pond in torpid ripples, resembled something different for the both of them.

To Viktor, it had been a reluctant first friend, constant and sometimes overbearing in its worry. It had been an eventual confidant, when the fates had thrown them together, and it had been unbearable loss, when the fates had ripped them apart.

To Sonja, it had been a mother.

It always surprised him how tears could trail down her face, when their species ingested neither food nor drink, much less water. Now, though, that surprise was buried under worry and sadness and nostalgia and an emotion he refused to name as love.

“Sonja,” he said, expressing all of the emotions that didn’t matter— why did you show weakness to the dignitaries, you foolish, foolish girl? and vampires are strong, Sonja, not sniveling weaklings.

“H-he asked if you were to send me a-away.” Her voice wavered and Viktor regretted ever becoming so close to his daughter if it meant he felt so vulnerable every time she broke down.

“A misconception, daughter. If you had kept your head and remained to gather further information, then you would have heard my reply.” Peering at her struggling attempts to conceal relief, Viktor’s eyes softened. A tiny bit. “You should trust me.”

“I do trust you, Father!” Sonja bubbled, her emotions careening to an all-time high. “I trust you with my life.”

N.

I do trust you, Father! I trust you with my life.

For the first time in centuries, Viktor’s nose let him down when it truly counted. Perhaps it was the earthy scent of the rain that clouded his senses. Perhaps he had been turning a blind eye (nose) to things he should have realized. Perhaps he knew all along. Perhaps he never wanted to know.

Either way, the coven knows now, not that Sonja had ever been subtle as to where her loyalties lay… away from the coven, where a wild spirit such as hers would never have to be confined to so little a space.

It will always, always find a way to escape.

It was raining when she died, too. She had always brimmed with confidence, ready to tackle the burdens of the world but in the end she was swept away in currents too strong for her, that only those who have sold their souls to the devil can navigate through…

He was much too old, or she was much too young and either way, Sonja came from obligation, not some warped mutilation of love—

(He tries to tell himself this, even to this day.)

Viktor longed to go back to their— his and Sonja’s— refuge. His daughter wasn’t allowed to venture outside from her room, and Viktor needed the presence of the woman who had once been his wife and would always be his friend.

He knew, though, that the willow tree would condemn him.

Knew that she would look at him reproachfully, for even thinking about abandoning his own Sonja like that, who trusted him with her life.

Nay.

He wanted to say it, with all of his might. But it was either love or power and Sonja had showed him that love had never really been worth it after all.

Disclaimer: Underworld, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

Author's Note: Gaaaah, the deadline is looming, intimidating, and freaking scary, man! I know this'll come and bite me in the ass, but I evade its evil clutches to present you with two longer-than-usual drabbles. Enjoy!