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Midnight Roses	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Hellsing > Het - Male/Female Views: 7370 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do NOT own anyone or anything from the anime/manga Hellsing. This is not for profit and just for fun! Please don't sue!

Chapter List
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'She was but a peasant's daughter, a lowly fish monger's child. Yet her heart still raced in her chest the first time she had seen their Lord in their tiny village. She had been selling flowers on a street corner for some extra coin when she heard a flurry of activity. Looking up, she saw a flood of peasants scrambling to either get out of sight or make themselves look as noble as they could. Curious about what was happening further down the road, the sixteen year old craned her neck around a lamp post and widened her emerald eyes as she saw a large, black carriage that was being drawn by huge, magnificent looking black horses. Fur swished around their hooves as they trotted down the hard-packed road, giving the beasts an almost otherworldly look. Whoever was inside such a grand transportation had to be of importance.
At that moment, the young teen became painfully aware that she was dressed in whatever rags her mother had left her. She simply didn't not have time or coin to make more or repair what she had so she looked every bit the street urchin she was. Unfortunately she had no time to hide like the more vagrant looking villagers and had to stand her ground as the carriage approached her. To her horror, the passenger within bade the driver to stop in a commanding voice; a voice that made a shiver run up and down her spine. Then the door was opening and the most handsome man she had ever seen was slowly stepping out.
He was a good few feet taller than her and lithe despite being broadly built. Every line of his body had muscle to it, giving him the resemblance of a big cat and the way he moved as he walked up to her only helped this illusion. His midnight hair spilled down his back like an inky waterfall and a bushy mustache graced his upper lip, only adding to the ruggedness of his angular face. His blue eyes were fixed on her and held both a sever cruelty and a gentle laughter, the contradictory emotions confusing her slightly. He both looked like he wanted to beat her and devour her at the same time. “How much for one of your lovely lilies?” the richly dressed male whispered, the timbre of his voice doing strange things to her insides.
“T-two deniers sir,” she stammered, handing him one of the more vibrant blooms. The cape wearing man only smirked down at her, looking as if she were something to conquer. Then he was pressing a much thicker feeling coin into her hand before he began to head back to his transport.
Opening her fingers curiously, her emerald eyes popped out of her head when she saw a Grosh in her palm. This was far too much! She couldn't accept this amount for a simple flower she had grown in her garden! Looking up to stop the obviously noble male, she saw his carriage already pulling away. Looking down at the coin again, she saw the markings for the Dracul and felt her blood stop in her veins. Had she truly been visited by the legendary 'Dragon' that protected this village? Watching the back of the carriage as it retreated, the young teen made a vow to gain employment in the castle no matter how hard the fight!
Entry into service of the Dracul was notoriously hard, especially for those trying to become maids. There were rumors that the violent warrior would only take the most beautiful and skilled of women into his castle. Even cleaned up, she was nothing to compare with some of the women she had seen running the shops. Still, she had to try. As soon as she had seen him, she felt almost drawn to him. Even if she never saw him again in her entire time of service, she would be glad just to be in the same dwelling as him.
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Her father had been all too willing to help, giving up money that would have bought food to ensure she had the best materials to make herself a dress. She had tried to stop him but the old man would hear none of it, having been worried about his daughter as he got older. Soon he wouldn't be able to do his job well enough to feed them both and he wanted her to be well taken care of. Working for a Lord was probably too high of a position to hope for but he would make damned sure his only child had as good a chance as any high-born servant.
Working into the night, the pair managed to transform the sixteen year old into a maid fit for any castle. Just seeing her reflection made her feel like an entirely different person and she felt just a twinge of fear within her. If she succeeded, she would never be able to come home again or even contact her father. Servants of a castle were often not allowed to fraternize with those lower than their employer and that often meant leaving everything they loved behind, some times even their own husbands and children. Could she leave behind her father and the village she had been born in for a man she had only seen once?
As if sensing her sorrow, her aging father wrapped her in a tight hug and gave her a loving kiss on her cheek. “As much as it pains me to see you leaving, it's best. You will be well taken care of by the 'Dragon',” the wizened man assured her, wiping his own tears from his eyes before he helped her pack some of her more precious items. As soon as that was done, the pair embraced once more; both knowing this would be the last time they would see eachother. Then she was walking out of the only home she had had and was mounting their old gray mare, riding off in the direction of the castle that over looked the land from a far off mountain.
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An elderly, rather severe looking woman trudged down the line of women, her slightly foggy gaze moving over their forms critically. As the matron stopped in front of the young teen, the peasant couldn't help but stiffen in fear. Her silver hair was tied back in a tight knot and her back was hunched from years of hard labor but she still looked as frightening as any monster. “You girl, what is your name?” the old crone asked, her eyes narrowed as her wrinkled hands clasped behind her bent back.
“E-elizabeta Demetrescu,” she stammered, her heart pounding as the old maid took one of her hands and turned it over.
“Many calluses, you work hard and you have a pretty face. Bend down child, so I can take the measure of your soul,” the elderly female ordered, looking in the hopeful's eyes for a very long moment.
“Aye, you have a good heart. You others are dismissed, Lord Vlad only asked for one,” the matron dismissed before leading the teen past the entry hall and into the huge castle.
“My name is Antonia Barnutiu but you may call me Madam Anne. Your duties will be to clean and straighten things around the castle as well as help with meals. Should the Lord call you, his needs will take precedence over all other activities; even having to relieve yourself. If he decides you are not to his liking, you will be relegated to being a scullery maid and will remain out of his sight,” the severe woman told her as she was lead down a long hall and to the kitchens.
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It wasn't long after her first day that she had her first encounter with Dracul. She had been cleaning a vase and had a very close call that he saved her from. She had to admit, due to the expensiveness of the vase, she had fully expected him to punish her; not take her on as his personal maid. She had already heard horror stories from the other servants about his temper as well as his liking to hit those who broke things. Now, as she stood beside him and made sure he had everything he needed, Elizabeta found the accusations hard to believe.
He had treated her with nothing but the utmost gentleness, even kissing her hand when she brought him his wine or his food. It wasn't too long until they actually began talking, learning about on another more and more as the weeks gradually turned to months. The young female learned he had been groomed from a young age to be a merciless killer, to never trust anyone, to never let anyone close to him. The more she learned, the more sorry she felt for the Lord. He had been deprived of any and all love at a devastatingly young age and had been ripped of any of his empathy. He had gotten to the point that he no longer even trusted servants that had been with his family for decades. After hearing his tales, she made it her goal to show him that there was a little good in the world.
She started small, putting a little extra food with his lunch or giving him an encouraging note with his afternoon tea. Then it had grown to her giving him small smiles and even light touches. At first the Lord seemed a bit suspicious of her actions but he had eventually grown to accept them as genuine and even seemed to enjoy their small conversations and contact. He even started taking to grabbing the hand that had touched him and placing a kiss on the top before releasing her, making the teen feel all warm inside. If she wasn't careful, she would fall hopelessly in love with the Prince; something that was frowned upon by most of society. No, it would be best if she tried to keep a professional distance. Something that was getting harder and harder every time his sky blue gaze met hers.
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Running to the kitchen, her heart pounded in her chest as she realized just what had happened. Lord Vlad had asked her to stay in a meeting, acting as if she was a trusted advisor and taking her suggestions very seriously. He had even sent away the powerful Lords that had demanded she leave, treating her as if she was above them! Just the thought of it made her head spin and she had to sit down. Plopping down at the kitchen table she placed her head in her hands and tried to gather her thoughts.
The noble almost acted as if he was interested in her, something she knew could not go beyond platonic. Surely someone of his bloodline had to be betrothed long before he had been born. There was also the fact that she was but a lowly peasant, nowhere near on the same level as her lord. No, surely he had to see her as a dalliance and nothing more. Still, if he wanted to bed her she would not refuse. The 'Dragon' was handsome and treated her well, it would only be right to allow him access to her body in return. Still, under the front she had placed to protect herself from heartbreak, the sixteen year old knew it was more than that. She would not refuse him because she loved him.
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It was her birthday today! She was turning seventeen and she felt the absence of her family very keenly today. This would be her first birthday away from her father and she doubted that Lord Vlad would even care to know the day of her birth. Chuckling at her own foolishness, Elizabeta got dressed in one of her favorite green dresses and headed toward her Lord's study. He would want his breakfast and morning tea, something she made herself.
As soon as she had taken over as his personal servant she had made all his meals from scratch, never telling him that his own cook had never come near them. She simply wanted to take care of him in any way she could and she honestly considered herself a good cook. So far Lord Vlad had yet to notice or, if he did, he never said anything. Today would be no exception. Since she would get no celebration of her own, she would have to celebrate for herself and just make an extra special meal for the Prince. Smiling to herself, she went to his study to check in first, something he highly preferred her to do as soon as she awakened. He had never punished her for not doing it, had merely given her such a disappointed look that she never done it again; no matter the reason.
“My dear Elizabeta, did you sleep well?” a happy, baritone purr greeted her as soon as she swung the door open, making her feel warm and soft on the inside.
“I did my Lord,” she replied, giggling slightly at the frustrated look he gave her.
“I do believe I have asked you time and again to refer to me as Vlad,” he sighed in a bemused but scolding tone as he shoved his chair back to get to his feet. Once standing, he towered easily above her; making her feel much like a child being confronted by their father.
“I have told you just as many times, it is simply not proper,” the teen replied apologetically, giving him a curtsey as he rapidly closed the small distance between them.
“I care not for propriety. My patience grows thin with such things,” he bit out, his roughened hands on her cheeks as he took her lips in a very brief but heated kiss that made her toes curl. When he pulled away her breath was coming in pants as her skin tingled pleasantly.
“My Lord!” Elizabeta squeaked breathlessly, unable to believe just what had happened. Had he really kissed her?
“Come. I have something to give you,” he rasped, grabbing one of her hands and dragging her behind him as he left the castle and headed toward the stables.
“Give me? You need not give me anything! Just being able to be in your presence daily is more than enough for me,” the flustered woman whispered, earning a deep chuckle from the handsome warrior in front of her.
“It is your birthday, is it not? It would be poor manners not to give you something,” he replied, waving to the stable hand as they got closer.
“How did you…?” she asked, wracking her brain for how he could have found out.
“Antonia found out for me,” he rumbled as the groom lead out a huge, wild looking, black stallion.
The enormous beast was easily seventeen hands and had his nostrils flared as his tail streamed behind him. Fur fluttered around his hooves and his ears stood straight forward as he seemed to examine her. “He is now yours if he accepts you. You may name him if you like,” the Prince offered as she stared at the gorgeous creature, stunned. Then she was approaching him slowly, holding out an open palm for him to sniff as a tense Dracul watched. At first, it looked as if he would bite her; his ears laying back as he bared his teeth.
“Easy, I mean no harm,” she soothed, not the least bit scared by the show of aggression. Instead of continuing forward, she stopped with her hand outstretched to allow the stallion to approach if he wished.
To everyone's surprise, the equine slowly came towards her and pressed his muzzle into her hand. “You're so beautiful,” she cooed, petting his face affectionately as the large horse began to relax.
“What will you name him?” came the shocked but proud purr from behind her, drawing her attention back to the Lord.
“Dracula,” she replied with a smile before she simply mounted the stallion's bare back and took him for a quick ride around the paddock.
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So much had happened so quickly! First Prince Vlad had proposed to her. Then they had gotten married, despite heavy protests from the monarchy as a whole. Next she had found out she was carrying his heir, a fact that had delighted and frightened them both. She had been deemed too small to bear children and this pregnancy could prove to be hazardous to her. In the midst of this worrying news, war had broken out in her Lord's lands. At first, he had tried to ignore it for her sake but now he no longer had such luxury.
She had been swollen with child by the time he pulled himself away to fight the ever worsening battle. He had been loathe to leave her and had even had several nightmares before he had ridden off on Dracula. Left alone, she could only sit on her bed and wait for her beloved to come back. As she lay there, she tried to ignore the ever worsening pain forming in the small of her back. If it continued to get worse, she would send for the midwife and hope her husband would not have to be fetched.
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Pain, so much pain. Fear and people rushing around the room. Where was Vlad, oh where was Vlad? Her back arching as another scream left her, she reached out blindly for a man that just was not there. She was scared, she could feel her life leaving her body and yet the child would not come. No one would comfort her or even speak to her, treating her as if she was already dead while she struggled to birth her unborn. In her haze of pain and confusion, she heard a loud commotion outside and desperately called for her beloved once more in the vain hope that it was him.
More yelling and then a familiar voice. It was Vlad, he was there and talking to her as the pain continued to worsen. It seemed like an eternity later that she felt something finally slide from between her legs but no cry came. She didn't need the midwife's declaration to know but it came anyway and her heart broke. In her last moments alive, she had failed the one most cherished to her. She found herself apologizing for not being able to birth his son. The last thing she heard was him telling her to only apologize for leaving him.'
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Midnight Roses