Upon Waking

Disclaimer: Hellsing along with all it\'s charaters, stories, and components belong to Kohta Hirano and it\'s respective owners. In the simplest terms, they\'re not mine so don\'t sue. xD!

It was one of those rare moments when she was able to sleep in the evening. The undead creatures in her employ made it hard for the young heiress to have, what could be considered, a normal sleep schedule. She turned to her right side in the queen-sized bed fitted with black satin sheets, the satin dark green nightgown making a rustling sound as it scraped against its sister fabric. Her hands now rested beside her face in a sort of “prayer” position. She huffed rather audibly as she dreamed, her breath becoming rapid, droplets of perspiration quickly appearing on her forehead and down pivotal points in her body where stress tended to cause such reactions. After a small moaning sound, her eyes flew open and she turned, sitting upright. Her right hand went to her forehead, to wipe the moisture that had gathered there.

Locks of shining, moist platinum hair fell on either side of her, not styled as they usually were when she was awake, but with strands in her eyes and face. She let her gaze drop down as she struggled to regulate her breathing, her chest rising and falling with each labored intake of air and subsequent release. The flimsy nightgown had a deep v-line that accented the cleave between her breasts. When she wasn’t in her business suit, Integral Hellsing could look very feminine.

“Another nightmare, master,” came the deep, low voice that belonged to none other than Alucard, her no-life king. His back was pressed to one of the mahogany posts of her canopy bed. His hands were crossed over his chest.

Upon his voice reaching her ears she took in a sharp gasp and then relaxed. She let her breath pass through her pale lips in a half-annoyed way as she reached over to the matching bed-side table, with a deep red taffeta overlay, where her golden-rimmed glasses rested along with several other odd objects (books, papers, a lamp, etc.). She let her left hand grasp them and she pulled them back with her as she sat up, placing them gently upon her face. Her head was down now, her hair shielding her face, as she let that piercing voice break the silence and respond. “Why do you persist in watching me sleep?” Her head was raised now so that she could make out his profile in the dim light. He was wearing his usual Victorian red attire, minus the hat, that much she could tell. His ebony hair hung in long strands around his face, his long nose peeked out from the black mass. “I’m not a child, I don’t need you to hold my hand when I have a bad dream,” she said more softly, recalling times when she had needed him as a child. When dreams of her father’s death and her uncle’s betrayal had haunted her. He’d always been there at her darkest hour to list her out of the abyss.

“It’s more than that, isn’t it?” His voice was low now, humorless. But he was quite right. It was much more. Since her fall from grace, her formal rejection from the favor of the Queen Mother, she’d had these nightmares. Premonitions, one might say, of impending doom. Though she had survived one battle, the war raged on. But she felt defenseless, just like a child, ironically enough. And dreams are so funny that way, even the strongest, bravest of warriors can feel completely helpless in the prison of their own nightmare.

“Why do you always come at times like this,” she asked in a whisper, a small glint in her blue eyes.

“I always come to you at times like this, my Master. It is my solemn duty, is it not?” And with that he turned to face her and let his right hand cross his mid-section as he bent over to bow deeply. That face would then come up and crimson eyes would be seen through the tresses of black hair. His long mouth curled into a snaky smile, those fangs of his highly visible and oddly enticing.

Then, before she could answer, before she could even blink he was before her, kneeling on the bed and she gasped and her right hand flew to her chest, grasping for the heart as if that would stop the thumping. He was on all fours, as it were, arms on either side of her. Even so, she had to look up at him, as he had taken a position of dominance. That wry smile had not abated. “My gift could put an end to your nightmares. I do not dream.”

Recollecting her composure, her hand fell from her chest. Those movements made his eyes graze over the tops of her breasts, peeking out from the v-line of the fabric that covered them. He took note of the perspiration there and he could swear he felt his canines twitch as he longed so desperately to taste that blood that had woken him more than a decade ago. It was only her voice that brought his attention back to her face, a pretty face it was, particularly in its present state of disheveled waking. “Your gift is a nightmare.”

“Ouch,” he said and widened the grin. Moving in, his ice-cold cheek was just millimeters from hers, as his voice dropped to a low growl in her left ear. “I know you have longed for it just as I have. I can feel your blood grow warmer when I suggest it. The pumping in your veins is like music to my ears. Let me share that symphony with you, Master. Let me put an end to your suffering.”

She felt her breath catch in her throat as his brushed her ear and the most sensitive parts of her neck. She felt that stirring between her thighs, that area growing moist with a desire that he had wakened, a desire that she always suppressed. The same pumping in her veins began pulsing in those nether regions that she had ignored. What was it about his proximity that could trigger such a reaction. She tried desperately to ignore it, to ignore that the blood now rose to her light olive cheeks, tingeing them in rosy colors. The heat rising from her face made her feel as if it might melt her skin right off. She swallowed in an attempt to gain back the poise of supremacy. “Your end is only my beginning. You know very well I will never agree,” she finally answered in a soft tone, talking into his ear, as their faces had not moved.

It was only then that he pulled back just a bit to look her in the eyes, the grin having faded just enough so that his full set of teeth were not visible, just the tiny peek of a single fang over his lower lip. Her blue orbs moved over those thin lips and then back to the bloody irises she was so familiar with. That lump in his throat moved as his voice rose and his lips parted so that he could whisper to her again. “I want you to ask me for it, to beg me to take you. Though,” and now the right side of his mouth curled most sinisterly, “I assure you, my Master, that you will not have to beg me very much. I would take you now if my servitude did not bar it.” And his nostrils would flare ever so slightly as the scent of her desires would reach him, full force. It was truly driving him mad. How he wanted so much to pin her to the sheets and do every little naughty thing that had crossed his mind since he’d noticed that young girl grow to this woman before him.

When she did not answer, he felt as if she was teasing him. She only watched him, she could say nothing else and that pulsing in her loins threatened to drive her to the brink, somewhere between insanity and desire she could very well lose herself in her undead servant’s fiery gaze and icy touch. Undeniably strong-willed though she was, an involuntary motion now took hold of her and those pale lips were coming closer to that Cheshire smile, stopping only an inch away. Alucard could feel the heat radiating off her body as if she were made of flames, and he wanted nothing more than to dance into that fire.

Her lips began to part and he was sure she’d beg him now, in his mind’s eye he could see it all play out. But he knew he’d gotten ahead of himself when her reply reached his ears, dashing his hopes in one fell swoop. “Get out,” she said very simply, though she felt her hips plead with her to move towards him, to give her some release. Her lips quivered entreating along those same lines.

“You can’t mean that,” he said, the grin having faded to a half smile. His black heart might have been breaking, but he knew what she felt, he could sense it, smell it, taste it on the tip of his tongue as that incredible warmth reached him. “You’re afraid.”

“Don’t make me repeat myse…” but her sentence was cut short by his lips covering hers. And though she might have let herself become shocked and push him away, she instead let her eyes slip shut and her arms flew around his neck. Her tongue pushed itself forcefully into his mouth, playing with that cold appendage within. Simultaneously, Alucard was pulling her with his gloved hand, by her hips, towards him as he eased his body over hers, letting it fall back into a lying position. She moaned softly into his mouth, the heat from her body dulled the harsh cold of his flesh. The fingers of her hands began to tangle around his hair, grasping at it desperately as her hips pushed up into his lower mid-section. She wanted him closer, if that was at all possible.

Incredible, was this release she was allowing herself. Unthinkable, that she would let it go this far. She moaned again now that his hands began to travel up the sides of her body, lifting that thin fabric ever so slightly, exposing more of her thighs to the underside of her sheets, which still covered part of her body. When his hands reached her breasts she took in a breath sharply, while still sunk deeply within the kiss. He was not being a gentle lover, and, at this moment, she did not want him to be. Their love was different from that of others. She was a chaste knight who thought of nothing but slaying the evils that threatened to swallow the children of God. And he was the very epitome of that malevolence, aiding his enemy so that he might survive the onslaught that the hand of the Holy would bring. Their lives were wrought in chaos, and so their passion would be just as frenzied.
He began to knead the sides of her breasts, enjoying the feel of the soft flesh. She felt the hard tips of her nipples against the satin and their sensitivity mixed with the movements of the fabric against them made her shiver. She took in a breath again and broke the kiss for a few seconds, her tongue retreating, her eyes reluctantly opening to gaze upon his which had never closed. Her mouth had mimed the word before her voice could emit, “Stop.”


To be continued.