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The Green Lady	By : RaggedyNib Category: Hellsing > Het - Male/Female Views: 6456 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Hellsing! It's all Kouta Hirano!

Nibs here with fast updates ahead! Onward I plunge into a new chapter! As always, read and review.

Chapter 3 – The Politician

A week later…

Her master had moved the coffin up a floor in preparation for the incoming flood of dignitaries and government officials.

Seras did not make much of a fuss when she found the familiar black case resting on the floor of her parlor, but she did knock quite angrily on the engraved lid for an answer as to why he didn't head down into the sublevels.

"Because, dragă, I have no desire to spook the Serbs with my basement dwelling antics while they're here. No need to scare them out of this arrangement just yet," he muttered from the dark slit where he had cracked the lid to speak to her. It was fully midday, but Seras awoke from her rest early to complete the summit's itinerary for organization. "Besides, it gives the public something to talk about for a few months. Makes them think we're sharing the same coffin in the day, no? We'll boost Romania's notoriety."

She had blushed, fresh blood from earlier in the day bringing a rosy tinge to the sharp angles of her cheekbones. "Master, do behave around these people!"

He had sufficiently scared her out of the room with a well-placed squeeze to her naked ankle near his coffin, chuckling darkly at her shriek and quick departure.

Master is getting a bit fond with the new nicknames,she thought as she tapped away at the keys of her touch pad. Dragăwas a term she heard Nicolae use with his young wife one evening at the Cluj-Napoca three years ago, a very notable opera house she had insisted on visiting with her new favorite Minister.

Rigoletto was the performance showcased at the Cluj-Napoca that warm June night, and she received the Presidential box in honor of her visit along with a personal invitation to meet the cast backstage. Her master had shrugged off the invitation she extended before she left, retreating into the library with a bottle of wine and towers of books to keep him company.

The guaranteed escape from the box was uplifting to her spirits when it came, for the loving Minister of Economy and his new bride Catia were quite close during the performance. Seras had sat through the nearly three hour ordeal wishing for the gentle squeezes of the hand and the unexpected pecks to the cheek Nicolae gave the pretty woman next to her. It wasn't Nicolae himself but the closeness of a lover she desired. Alucard's new name he bestowed upon her so casually was dredging up too many old feelings she thought long buried.

He just meant it in the familial way, Victoria.

She gently reminded herself of the facts true to her eyes as she fought down the burning feeling in her throat. It was no secret to her that she had felt strong affection and attraction towards her master in her younger years, but his attention was solely for the handsome Integra and her unbreakable spirit.

Seras had accepted the fact that her feelings could never be reciprocated by the tall vampire, finally turning attention to her own self after he had vanished that day in London.

When Integra passed on, she felt a selfish wave of satisfaction that the Knight was cold and lifeless in the ground. The blonde had felt shock at her own petty greed for her master's full attention, but she couldn't help but feel relieved as Integra was lowered into the stone tomb that would encase her body for the years to come while Seras remained unchanged, ageless.

The memory of his lost master haunted Alucard, plaguing him to the point of insanity for a few years as he took his fledgling from England to the continent. He had pieced himself back together, as always.

Time heals all wounds, they say.

Oh, did she know this to be only a little true. Pip, her lost Captain, had faded into the background of her memory soon after Alucard returned. She remembered the night his voice did not answer her usual conversations, the gut wrenching feeling of dread sending her from her room in the Hellsing basement to her master's dark lair.

He had shrugged off her tearful pleading, responding shortly that Bernadotte's presence would always remain with her, but her memory of him was fading to the point where his voice could no longer reach her conscious mind.

She sunk into a miserable heap of blood-tears and screams for weeks, completely wrecking the room in her rage.

Seras had emerged a stronger vampire, but a weaker human. The loss had struck her deep, for she had grown much attached to the teasing and comfortable weight on her mind the Frenchman brought.

After thirty years of distance from the loss, she only felt small pangs of hurt when she thought of the ill-fated love between her and the Captain of the Wild Geese. No advances from human men were accepted, no advances were made from her.

Blinking, Seras realized she'd been typing the same sentence over a few times. She erased it, finishing the document quickly before forwarding it to her secretaries in Bucharest. They would handle the distribution of the schedule among the delegates of the five countries coming to visit, along with the minor details of travel and such. She had left the housing arrangements up to the housekeeper of the castle, and a few cooks had been hired to prepare the meals of the humans that would now reside in Bran for the meeting.

All set up in rooms on the residential floors below, ground floor being the chapel and all. I don't think they'd appreciate being squeezed into the basement, either…

She rose from her office chair and exited into the parlor, tapping on the lid of the massive coffin once more. Her master did not answer from the inside.

I need to get dressed,she thought as she looked down at her plain clothing. Tonight would be a reception dinner in the formal dining room, followed by a short meeting in the chapel below. The pews had been removed and replaced with a long table and stately chairs in preparation for the summit. The chapel was the only room large enough in the castle to seat all the dignitaries, journalist, heads of state, and more people filling up the castle by the hour.

Soon she was decked out in her finest, fastening the emerald earbobs to the tender skin of her earlobes. The heavily beaded front of her green hued gown had yet to be done up, draped across the skirt as she stood in front of the mirror.

"Lovely color, Police Girl."

Seras winced, folding her arms across her unclothed breasts as her master made his way past her to occupy a spare pane of the massive mirror. He was doing up the silky red cravat that went with his formal suit, taking slow care to get the folds and creases just so. His hair was at a reasonable length tonight, just shy of brushing his shoulders.

He glanced over at her, arching an eyebrow as she remained frozen in her modest pose. "Don't stop on my account."

She glared back at his mild look, her arms crossing tighter over her chest as he stepped behind her. Her shudder could be barely contained as she felt his surprisingly warm fingers brush the skin of her back as he did up the fastenings of the satin gown, bowing his head to the task politely so she could preserve her dignity, lifting the bodice of the gown to her front to assist his efforts.

Soon, she was dressed fully in the sleeveless sheath and decked out with emeralds at her neck and ears.

It was an awkward silence that followed, but her master did not move away. His hand drifted up from fastening the last clasp of the dress to adjust the lattice-like web of silver and jewels around her throat, a thumb brushing over the obscured spot where his mark remained.

"Perfect," he murmured, bending his head low to deeply breathe in the scent of her skin. "Wisteria?"

"Yes," she replied shortly, breaking the close contact to finish the final touches of eyeliner and blush to her face. She looked like a china-doll, albeit a royal looking one.

Just missing was the tiara and glass slippers, Cinderella,she thought cynically.

She turned around to face her master, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. Sometimes she forgot his height, but dressed in his finest he looked every bit the imposing, regal king the world knew him as.

"Ready to face the wolf-pack, Police Girl?" he grinned, bending forward to give her a courtly bow as he extended his arm. She took it, hooking her elbow with his as they phased down to the reception room below, the world waiting on their arrival.

The dinner was a long one as Seras had planned, six courses total for the humans and endless refills of wine for her and her master. They could manage some liquids, but never food as they once could in life.

The tumblers of brandy and the dishes of the delicate custard served as the desert were nearly cleared away by the wait staff when the heads of state seated near Alucard and Seras began to talk business.

It was when the old, wizened Premier of Croatia began to speak when things at the table took a turn for the decidedly worst.

"I'm sorry, Premier Grgić, I couldn't hear you over this rabble," Seras confessed politely to the man by her side. He was a brave one for sitting so close to the Draculina and her Sire, but he didn't let any fear show by his animated conversation about the beaches in Croatia with her earlier. Alucard had looked thoroughly bored throughout the entire dinner, swirling his goblet of red wine around and around as he listened to the talk of everyone around him.

"We would, that is to say our countries would…like to see some form of formal union between you and your king," the Premier of Croatia croaked out.

"Meaning to say…repeat that?" If she could sweat, a cold one would be popping on her brow right about now if the Premier was suggesting what she wildly imagined.

"In the interest of maintaining a decidedly moral unification to the international community, we have a few stipulations that need to be accepted before we merge," Grgić reworded his proposal, but the meaning was still hidden to the woman.

"You're dodging the point, Premier Grgić. I'd much prefer it if you'd speak plainly." Seras raised her voice a degree in pitch, enough to quiet the conversations way at the end of the table.

"Provost Victoria, the time for modesty is over. You and your lover have been together for nearly sixty years, rumor has it. Longer than my wife and I have been married! What is a simple piece of paper to you both at this point?" The tiny man chucked nervously, dabbing at the shinning upper lip of his mouth with the fine linen of the napkins.

Fuck.

It was now obvious what Grgić was getting at. Seras just had a hard time of believing the puny man had the gall to throw it out at the dinner table.

She chanced a look at Alucard on her right at the head of the table, kicking him hard in the shin when she noticed the barely contained grin threatening to split his face.

"The Rege and I-"

"-were considering a small ceremony before your proposal, Premier." Alucard smiled benevolently to Grgić, holding up a hand to stop any further words from Seras.

Seras was floored.

Her master continued to smile, reaching for the pale hand folded in her lap to give it a reassuring squeeze. Seras could hear the 'ohs' and 'ahs' down the table as he raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand with a smirk. "Shall we cease living in sin, dragul meu?"

Translations for Romanian Phrases:

Rege-king

Dragă–sweetheart

Dragul meu –My dear
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The Green Lady