Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Vice, Lust, And Desire	By : Awen_Sofer Category: Hellsing > Het - Male/Female Views: 1980 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Hellsing or the characters therein. This is strictly an endeavor for fun with no profit whatsoever.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Willie tried not to gawk while Vlad stripped off his shirt to bare his torso. She liked the way his upper body formed an inverted triangle starting at his wide shoulders. His broad chest graduated downward to hard and defined abdomen that tapered to a slim waist. His straight, narrow hips were encompassed with deer hide leather pants that had been tanned to a soft, velvety finish and dyed black. Her eyes roamed over his solid pectorals that were nicely tanned from spending many days sparring in the sun to stay prepared for close combat. Fine black hair sparsely covered his chest, forming a line down the middle of his belly to disappear under the waistband of the pants sitting just below his pelvic bones. He flexed the firm muscles of his chest when he caught her gazing at him causing her to bite her lip and look away. Heat crept up her neck to her cheeks making sweat break through the pores under her nose. The day was hot, and it had just gotten hotter. Adding embarrassment to the oppressive heat made her wonder if she was going to melt. She lowered her eyes to drag the already sufficiently sharpened blade of the knife across the wheel shaped grindstone sitting on the table. Soap, a bowl of water, and a cloth were laid out on the table as well.
There was a ball at the castle tonight so Vlad had requested to be shaved for the festivities. Willie was more than thrilled to fulfill his petition to remove the awful beard. His facial hair had grown out to form a bushy mess that marred his comely appearance.
Vlad plopped down in the plain, straight backed wooden chair that the kitchen servants had brought out along with the table. Willie combed her fingers through his unruly ebony waves, gathering the mass of hair in one hand. She did not want his hair blowing into the soap on his face where the strands would stick and be cut off. Her eyes searched the table for a strip of ribbon or cloth with which to tie back the ponytail that was thicker than her wrist. Finding nothing, she reached up to impatiently snatch the ribbon from her own hair. Once his hair was secured, she twisted hers into a knot at the base of her neck to keep it out of her face. She picked up the knife while grasping a tuft of the overgrown beard in preparation to cut it off. They had been away from the fields of battle for three weeks. The ball tonight was being held because they would soon be returning to the fight. Her birthday would be spent on the battlefield. She supposed in a way that would be appropriate. Her life for the last decade had been defined and shaped by the winds of war. Once the bushy beard was cut down close to his face, she picked up the soap, dipping her hands into the water quickly so she could work up a lather.
Vlad spread his legs wide to accommodate her as Willie stepped between them to soap his face. Staying focused on her task prevented her from noticing the way he was ardently examining her face. She did not see the manner in which his keen eyes followed every line of her face from her forehead down to her chin with adoration. Her eyes did not meet his as they intensely studied her unique light brown, almost golden irises that were speckled with accents of green and dark brown. She had no idea he was counting each tawny colored freckle that dotted her nose and cheeks. Instead she concentrated on positioning the knife in preparation to begin scraping the hair from his face with the precisely sharpened edge. His hands rested on her waist, pulling her close to him as she used his his ears as handles to tip his head back so she could get unobstructed access to his neck.
"Whatever you do, don't tickle me at this moment," she warned him as she pressed the blade of the knife to his throat. Pushing the blade upward, she removed the hair to reveal smooth, flawless skin.
"I trust you with my life," he murmured once the knife had moved past the edge of his chin.
"I know," she returned with a smug expression on her face. With a flick of her wrist, she flung the soap and hair from the knife before dipping it in the bowl of water.
"Hmmmm," Vlad hummed with satisfaction, a grin drawing up the corners of his lips.
"Don't smile," Willie ordered him. Smiling creased the skin around his mouth making it difficult to remove the hair without cutting him. She grabbed his ear, pulling it ruthlessly to unwrinkle the skin. When his mouth dropped open to protest, or possibly to issue a groan, she admonished him, "No talking."
By the time Willie completed the shave, there were so many clods of foamy white soap on the grass around them it looked like there had been a freak snow storm in the middle of summer. The terrible and some what unavoidable mess of the whole shaving process is why she preferred to perform it outside. She shaved him on the battlefield as well when he would take on a resemblance to a Paleolithic man. Her dashing, majestic Prince should always be at his best, even in the midst of war. At times she suspected she might be as vain Vlad about his appearance.
"My darling - "
"Don't call me that. I don't want Ilona to hear," she snapped, rinsing off the blade of the knife and purposely flinging water at him. "Especially since its not sincere anyway."
"Why do you think it is not sincere?" Vlad inquired, using the cloth to wipe the excess soap off of his face.
Willie scowled deeply at him. Clean-cut and comely once again, her eyes scanned the glorious face of her Lord in a search for any missed hair. He was annoyed with her. The tightness of his jaw and the hard stare he was giving her were silent messages that were difficult to misconstrue. She did not understand why dismissing his insincere flirtation for what it is offended him. With an insolent toss of her head, she responded coldly, "Do not call me by the same pet name with which you refer to your wife. The woman you love."
"Silly girl," he chuckled with a hint of derision in the laugh. He flung the towel at her, beaming at her when the damp fabric smacked her in the face and wrapped around her head. "What makes you think I cannot genuinely love two women at once? Are you really so childish and naive?"
Humiliation fused with the rage that had been swarming inside of her. She swung the bowl, flinging out the water in an arc that would have splashed over him had he not jumped backwards out of the way. She slammed the metal bowl down on the table, plunking the the shaving supplies into it for easier carrying. As she walked past him, she attempted to shoulder him to push him back to express her outrage. Bumping into him was like hitting a brick wall because his big body stood firm, unmoving. His hand reached out to steady her when she bounced off of his chest to stumble a few steps.
"Willene," he breathed, laying his hand on her shoulder.
Willie shrugged off his heavy hand while tears of anger burned her eyeballs to gather in the corners. Pausing a moment to restrain her emotions, she took a deep breath before looking at him with the tears still glittering in her eyes. "I may be both immature and ignorant. But one thing I do know for sure is that I don't deserve to be second best."
Willie stomped off in a huff, swiping at the tears she could no longer keep at bay. Before she was completely out of earshot, she thought she heard him say, "I never said you were second best." Maybe not. However, she was definitely second in line to be the woman most dear to his heart. Each day of seeing Ilona with him pricked at her heart. Every little display of affection and every word of love whispered between them chipped away at her mind and soul, breaking away tiny chunks to leave scars of bitterness behind. The way Ilona would make eye contact with her when Vlad kissed her neck or held her in his arms made Willie feel sick at her stomach. At times the nausea was so strong she would vomit just a little but hold it back with clenched teeth and sheer determination. She could not wait to get out of the castle and back into the fray. The blood and heat of battle called to her like a siren. There she could vent her anger and animosity. On the front lines she did not have to see Ilona's egotistical smirking face, her icy blue eyes full of contempt, or her pale blond hair that she would toss over her shoulder before laughing haughtily. An ugly, cold emotion crept inside of Willie, oozing along the edges of her psyche. She hated Ilona.
~...~
Vlad looked so incredibly fetching in his dress uniform as he stood at the front of the room greeting guests with his wife standing beside him. He still wore the red ribbon in his hair that Willie had used to tie it back earlier in the day. The ribbon matched the vermillion piping outlining the gold trim on his black jacket. The gold buttons bearing the Dracul dragon head gleamed in the light of the thousand candles that lit the room. The crisp white pants clung to his legs like a second skin, showing off the the ropey muscles of his thighs. The knee high black leather boots brought even more attention to his fantastically shaped legs. Willie could not take her eyes off of him. A bizarre but not entirely unpleasant warmth swirled and coiled in the deepest part of her body as she gazed at him with blatant admiration.
"Go," a fellow servant whispered to Willie, elbowing her gently to get her moving.
Dressed in a female servant's uniform, Willie made her way through the guests gathered at the edges of the dance floor. She carried a shiny silver tray of filled wine goblets in one hand and another tray loaded down with various bite sized portions of food in the other. At the moment, she desperately wished she had a third hand to loosen the strings of the corset that was pinching her breasts. Usually she wore form fitting but not bone crushing cotton undershirts covered by oversized poet shirts. Loose skirts that came just below her knees or tight leather pants were her typical bottoms of choice. For the ball, she had been forced to be tied up and stuffed into a dress made of an unforgiving fabric that further compressed her ribs over the corset. The voluminous skirt billowed out over her hips and flowed to the floor. She moved with cautious, measured steps so her boots would not get tangled in the hem of the dress. She curtsied and bowed and smiled like an idiot, making sure to keep her mouth closed for fear of the rude words that might fly out of it. The attendees of the ball were the nobility, the upper echelon of society, not the rough and bawdy war worn soldiers who knew what it meant to have a good time. Obviously this little soiree had been Ilona's idea, to show off her dear husband one more time just in case he did not come back from the upcoming conflict. A chill of apprehension shot up Willie's spine and slammed into the back of her head giving her an instant headache. She could not bear the thought of any kind of harm befalling her master; the prospect of his death in particular terrified her.
"Willene? Willene!" Ilona's syrupy sweet, sing-song voice cut right through the noise of the chattering crowd and four person music ensemble.
Willie barely resisted the desire to roll her eyes and groan. She also did not give into the urge to ignore the woman and walk away in the opposite direction as if she had not heard her. Looking at her master's wife, she offered her a superficial smile while emitting a growl that was lost among the noise of the people talking around her. The woman beckoned her with a wave of her hand. She inhaled deeply to shore up her resolve. Ilona was standing next to Vlad, her arm hooked through his, her body pressed to his side as they chatted with the Grand Duke and Duchess Lupei. The Duke wore a military uniform bearing the family crest of a wolf's head. The Duke, a short, fat round man with a lengthy gray mustache that curled on the ends, was a powerful ally who loaned his soldiers and weaponry to Prince Dracul when necessary. The man did so willingly, risking the lives of his men, even the life of his own son who acted as General of the troops, so he could retain his power and position in the country. Of course the Grand Duke himself never visited the plains full of heavy artillery and bleeding kinsman to fight along side them unlike the valiant Prince who fought in the name of God and country.
Willie held out the trays to offer the hosts and their upstanding guests refreshment. Her eyes met Ilona's briefly, seeing the hateful glint in the woman's washed out blue eyes seconds before Ilona's finger hooked under the edge of the tray containing the full wine goblets. For a split second, a wicked grin spread Ilona's thin lips as she tipped up the tray leaning it toward Willie. Unable to balance the upset tray since both of her hands were full, time seemed to slow down as Willie watched the tray fall toward her, the wine spilling down the front of her dress, drenching her from the neck down to her waist.
"Oops," Ilona declared with insincerity. She hid her face behind her fan but could not hide the sound of her evil giggle.
Willie could not move at first, frozen in place by disbelief of what had just happened. She stood soaked and humiliated, stupidly holding the tray of hors d'oeuvres in her other hand. Without risking a glimpse at Ilona or Vlad, she lowered her head, curtseying deeply. A knot formed in her throat, her voice quivering as she apologized. "I am terribly sorry for my clumsiness, Mistress. I will have someone clean that up as soon as possible."
"No, girl," the woman growled, scorn evident in her voice. "You clean that up. Now."
Willie bit her lip, struggling to maintain her poise. Since her pride had been stripped away, she fought to keep a degree of grace that would enable her to salvage a small amount of her dignity. Seeing another servant nearby who offered her a sympathetic yet sad smile, she held out the tray full of food to the girl who was about sixteen years of age. Once that full tray had been handed over, she lowered herself to her knees with elegance. Moving cautiously since her hands were shaking, blinking back tears as she worked, she picked up the metal wine goblets one by one to set them in an upright position on the empty tray. Using the long beige colored skirt of her dress, she sopped up the merlot until there was no more of the deep crimson colored liquid on the wooden floor. The floor had been an extravagant whim of Ilona's and had cost her husband a small fortune. Willie convinced herself that her compliance to the mistress's order had been to keep the expensive wood planks from being ruined so Vlad's money would not be wasted. Standing to her feet with just a bit of unsteadiness, she looked like she had been party to a massacre due to the wine stains covering her dress. The only thing that had murdered tonight was her self-esteem. "Pardon me, your ladyship," she mumbled, barely able to speak at all due to the restrained tears that were choking her. "I will be leaving. I apologize for disturbing your party."
"What a clod," Ilona giggled as Willie walked away.
"Such a shame," the old wolf rejoined, making a tsk tsk sound by sucking on his teeth. "One would think such a pretty girl would have more finesse."
"She's a servant!" his wife, who was too thin and too loud, countered with disgust. "What do you expect from low born trash?"
Willie's steps became faster as she neared the double doors that would allow her to escape from the ballroom. She ran down the hall, passing servants carrying food and wine from the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, she dumped the empty goblets into a tub of soapy water then threw the tray against the wall to make a nerve wrenching clanging sound. She dropped to her knees and screamed, unleashing the fury that had been building inside of her.
Velika, the head kitchen servant and a kind old woman, came over to Willie who was wailing with her hands over her face in the middle of the busy kitchen. She put her arms around the distraught young woman, lifting her to feet. A gasp left her mouth upon seeing all of the red splashes on the uniform that not too long ago had been a clean, creamy beige color. "What happened, little one?"
Willie snorted, sucking the line of snot that had leaked out back into her nose. Her eyes met the watery blue eyes of the woman whose aged face resembled the pattern of a quilt. Many years of hard work had sewn each wrinkle into her skin. However, there was a light in her almost colorless eyes, a brilliant benevolence, that grueling servitude had not quenched.
"I-I-I..." Willie stammered, grunting with aggravation when she could not speak. Taking a deep breath that shuddered and skipped through her sobbing, she blurted a single word, "Ilona."
"Uh, that horrid woman," Velika groused, uttering an extensive string of curse words. She took Willie by the arm, guiding her toward the bathhouse.
"Where are we going?" Willie asked apprehensively. Servants weren't allowed to take baths in the bathhouse. They were required to go to the river to bathe. Only the Master and Mistress of the castle were allowed to have the luxury of a warm bath in privacy. Any servant caught taking a bath in there could be turned out of the household, publicly whipped, or worse, executed. Punishment, and the severity of that punishment, depended on what kind of mood the lady of the house was in that day. Willie knew her execution would be swift and would possibly be administered by Ilona herself.
"That dress is a mess, and you're sopping wet. You can't stay like that, can you?" the woman chided her, clucking her tongue as they entered the bathhouse that connected to the kitchen on one side. "There isn't enough time for a full bath, but that will do," she said, pointing at one of the large laundry tubs. "There's already water heated. We prepared it just in case her highness needed to wash off the bullshit from hobnobbing with her phony friends." Both women laughed. Velika patted Willie's cheeks, giving her a big toothless grin. "Now, you take a bath and wash off all of that shame along with the wine. You're going to be fine, little one."
"But I really shouldn't," she protested, beginning to shiver.
"Don't worry about getting caught. We'll make sure that doesn't happen," she assured her, giving her a wink. "I'll be getting back to the kitchen now."
Willie smiled as she watched the ancient woman shuffle off. She searched for the big ladle to scoop hot water from the cast iron pot to fill one of the tubs. Peeling the dress from her body, she dropped it into the pile of laundry that was nearly as tall as her. The water had cooled slightly which was good because her skin was not accustomed to being soaked from head to toe in hot water. Her hands and arms up to her elbows had grown immune to the heat due to assisting with the Master's bath and washing the laundry or dishes. The rest of her body knew only the frigid sting of the water in the river except for the rare occasion when the Prince would want her to wash his hair, and she could dangle her legs in the heated water. She cupped her hands, filling them with the hot water before pouring it over her head. Her headache began to drift away. She drizzled more water over her body, delighting in the sensation of the drops hitting her skin. A laugh unexpectedly rose from somewhere deep inside of her. The water felt good. And so did the laughter.
"Having fun?" a disconcertingly familiar male voice questioned her. Vlad stepped from the shadows in the corner just beyond the fire-pit.
"Oh, Master," she gasped upon seeing him. He seemed to materialize out of the shadows that had been surrounding him. She criss-crossed her arms over her chest to hide her breasts then pulled her knees up to provide an extra layer of protection from his prying eyes. Too afraid to stand up, not trusting her legs to hold her, she remained sitting in the tub. Her eyes glued themselves to the floor, unable to look up at his handsome face that wore a lascivious half grin as his eyes danced over her.
"I was wondering where you had disappeared to," he mused, leisurely strolling across the floor toward her. "I went to my room to see if you had fled to hide there. Then I heard splashing so I followed the sound." He knelt down by the tub, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. "And here you are."
The anger that still glowed like hot embers inside of her leapt to life to become a raging inferno. Willie slapped his hand away, glowering at him with glacier cold eyes and resentment filling her heart. "Don't touch me," she snarled, her lip sliding back from her teeth.
"Why - " He recoiled as if she had bitten him. She gave every impression that she would take a chunk out of him if he remained too close to her.
"You stood there and did nothing!" she screamed at him while he stood there blinking at her with a blank expression. Violence coursed through her, making her fingers twitch. It had been many, many years since she had experienced murderous intent toward him. At the moment, she threatened to be consumed by the desire to kill fueled by hatred. "You watched without saying a single word," she hissed, standing to her feet. She had forgotten to care that she was stark naked in front of him because she was caught in the beginning of an irrational tirade. "You allowed her to humiliate me, to mock me, to laugh at me, and never did anything!" When his eyes drifted from hers, straying down her body, she grabbed the nearby sheet to wrap it around her. She was not going to allow him to ogle her, to indulge his greedy eyes, after what he had done. Or more to the point, what he had not done. "Prince Vlad Dracul, the great and mighty warrior, a fearsome Warlord!" she hollered, before dropping her voice several octaves to growl through her clenched teeth, "A craven, impotent man incapable of subjugating his own wife."
Willie had pushed him too far by directly insulting his manhood. Attacking him as a coward was one thing but degrading his virility was quite another. And that he could not abide. The slap he delivered to her cheek cracked the air like a whip, snapping her head to the side with such extreme force Vlad instantly worried that he had broken her neck. He lunged toward her with the need to check her for injury. He immediately halted, refraining from touching her, when she stepped back from him with her hand held up in a stop motion. She cautiously turned her head, making sure nothing was amiss, no broken vertebrae or torn muscles, from the punishing hit. She slowly dropped her hand to her side, turning her body to face him directly. Her eyes raised from the floor, focusing on his. Her cheek throbbed, the pain sizzling down the side of her neck. But she resisted showing any signs of discomfort. Closing her eyes, she bowed deeply at the waist despite how agongizing the pain became in her face. He had brought her back to her senses, swiftly reminding her that she was just a servant. "My Lord, I beg your pardon," she apologized, bowing her head deeper. "I had forgotten my place."
Vlad stared at her without uttering a word. For the second time tonight he had been struck dumb and unable to react. If he had said something earlier, Willie would have been put in peril of dangerous, possibly deadly, retaliation by Ilona. The brutal strike he had given to his loyal, trustworthy servant was the one he had repressed from unleashing on his reprehensible wife. A sickening sensation churned in his gut. He had not meant to hit her. She did not deserve suffering the comeuppance that should have been Ilona's.
"I am the one who is sorry," he confessed, dropping to his knees in front of her.
"Master, don't!" she exclaimed, backing away from him. When he leaned forward onto all fours and proceeded to kowtow to her, she was mortified. Her belly fluttered so violently it felt like something had come alive and was crawling inside of her. "My Lord, please, please, stand up. If someone should see..."
"I don't care. I want you to believe that I mean what I say. That I genuinely apologize," he said, reaching out to touch her feet. He crawled closer to her, placing his forehead on the tops of her feet. "Please forgive me."
"Master," she whispered, touching his back. "Please, don't do this. Get up."
"Will you forgive me?" His fingers wrapped around her ankles holding onto them tightly.
"Yes, yes, of course I will," she agreed, her heart beating so fast she could barely breathe.
Vlad stood up, looking down at her. For a long moment, he gazed at her, not saying anything or moving a muscle.
"Sir?"
"I really am sorry." He had never sounded more sincere. He lay his hand against the back of her neck, pulling her forward.
Willie held her breath as his lips lowered toward her. She breathed a sigh of relief when he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. She still had not received her first kiss. There was not a single man brave enough to come close to her due to her constant proximity to Vlad. The bravest of the soldiers were not willing to risk life or limb in the name of love with the favored servant of the fierce Prince.
"I must return to the ball, my dear. Before I leave, I have a request. Do one thing for me?"
"What's that, Sir?" she asked without lifting her head to meet his gaze.
"Well, I suppose there are two things I want you to do for me," he told her, removing his hand from her neck to rest it on the hilt of the decorative rapier on his side. "The first thing I want you to do is raise your head. Look at me, Willene," he commanded her with tenderness in his resonant voice.
Willie did as she was told, lifting her chin. Vlad smiled at her when her eyes connected with his. She did not smile back. At the present time, she did not have it within her to smile, not even a forced smile of insincerity.
"The second thing I want you to do is to never let anyone make you feel like less of a human being. You're not a lowly servant. I do not know how much of your childhood, of your mother, you remember, but there is something you should know. Your mother was a Countess. You're the child of a noble. When I stole you, I took your title away from you. I am sorry about that. To keep you, I knew I had to remove your noble status. I have taken much more than I have given to you. Tonight I allowed your dignity to be stolen. Until now I have protected you from every threat except that from my own wife, your mistress. I am terribly sorry for that too."
Willie swallowed but was unable to choke down the lump that obstructed her throat. The sincerity in his eyes made her heart ache. The flames from the fire reflected in his dark irises making them appear to glow with their own reddish orange light. She flinched, jerking away from him when he extended his hand that was closed into a fist toward her. Her eyes watched his every move as each finger peeled back to reveal a silver ring in his palm. There was a set of wings, angel's wings, etched onto the simple band. Glancing at his other hand, she saw that he held out a ring, just like the one in his palm, that was secured around his neck by a thin almost invisible silver chain.
"If you want to be set free, I will set you free. I will restore your title, giving you your papers to prove your freedom and your nobility. Or," he began, hauling in a deep breath as he knelt down on one knee in front of her. "You can take this ring, pledge yourself to me as a helpmate, not as a servant. I want you to be by my side always as my companion and partner."
Like a wife?, she wanted to ask to clarify his intent. She glimpsed at the ring then looked back at his face. A little over a decade of her life had been spent with him. For half of her life he had been her focal point, the one constant in the ever changing world around her. He had provided for her, taken care of her. He had taught her to be an excellent and highly skilled soldier among other things. If she left, where would she go? What did being free mean? He had always given her free rein, allowing her to go wherever she wanted to go, whenever she wanted to go there. The only time she felt trapped or oppressed was when Ilona would give her orders. She only felt demeaned or mistreated when the woman would play cruel, juvenile tricks on her like tipping the tray to spill the wine on her. Her fingers shook as she reached out to take the ring.
"I had meant for this to be the surprise on your twenty first birthday," he explained. He watched her intently while she stared at the ring as if she were still trying to decide what to do. "After that little event earlier, I was afraid you would run away. I feared..." His words trailed off as he moved hastily away from her while keeping his back to her. "I was afraid you would leave me." Looking back over his shoulder, he reminded her, "The choice is yours. If you want to leave, you are free to do so with my best wishes." His voice faltered at the end of the sentence so he cleared his throat. "If you stay, you will no longer be a servant. You will be my official assistant. My helpmate."
"Helpmate," she repeated, turning the ring in her fingers as she stared at it. Mate. It still sounded too much like being a wife. He already had a wife, Ilona. If she became his wife too, she would be his second wife. She clasped the ring in her palm momentarily before giving it a fling. She heard the small piece of metal hit the floor with a high pitched pinging sound before it skittered across the smooth limestone floor. "I will never settle for being second best...especially to her."
"Ahhh," he sighed, scrubbing his palms over his face as she stalked away with her head held high like a Queen adorned in a silk gown rather than a newly freed servant in a sheet. "That's my girl."
That ring had belonged to Willene's mother, the Countess Anghelescu, yet she had not wanted it as a gift from him. Vlad had spent months searching for a silversmith to duplicate the ring, to make the one for his necklace. Willie was his good luck charm after all so he wanted to have a physical representation of that. More to the point, she had missed the extremely meaningful underlying message of the ring and its copy. With the second ring, Vlad was actually tethering himself to her, pledging his loyalty and life to her rather than the reverse. But she had thrown her ring away. Vlad needed to find that damn ring.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Vice, Lust, And Desire