Everyone, I bring my very first Hellsing oneshot. :D I'm very excited with how it came out, and I was also influenced by a few stories from this fandom I really love.

When I was done with this, I had two glasses of red Italian wine, lol. XD Legal adult I am, and I'd also finished my monthly two-day Hellsing Ultimate binge.

Hellsing does not belong to me. Shot is named after the composition by TaiGekTou on YouTube.

The sun was obscured by the clouds. That was perfectly okay since he could still walk about in daylight, even if his powers would not be at their fullest extent.

Nothing around him mattered - not even the sun or the mourners who came to pay their respects. All of these people were very few friends, mostly comrades and respectable rivals. Many of her real friends were long dead...including the one who served her and her family faithfully for many years, only to betray them all.

Now there was just himself and the one beside him. Who was letting a few tears of blood from her eyes that were hidden beneath the glasses which covered her red eyes. Her wisdom and experience as well as patience she acquired in all the years of his absence; he was thrilled to his core that she was on his level, but there was still a soft spot from her humanity which was her delicate, loving heart.

Humans...humans and what they call love. I'm no fool to not spot these things. I was once like them, and just as worse...

The flowers present in the forms of the spray atop the fine mahogany casket and the wreaths - all bearing sweet blue hydrangeas, white roses and baby's breath - made his nostrils flare with the stench of their sweetness, but not as much as the sight of that obscene thing which was sent as a "gift" from none other than the defiling Catholic Church: the garlands of red rosebuds which were accented with dripping crosses - the form of rosaries. Their last chance to make her final physical moments on this earth a mockery. If he had his way, he would tear them all piece by piece and set them aflame.

"And may Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing rest in peace."

He felt his lips curl at the holy words as the casket itself was lowered into the earth, among the others of her family's plot - right next to her father. The woman who towered above the men, displayed her masculine power equal to them...combine it with her shameless fists she loved to slam on the table - his favored times to provoke her himself, rile up his personal fire and hers - then you would have a fierce vixen who would tell you to search and destroy without leaving anything behind.

Now those days were over for him. He could have had a new master in her place, and not someone of her bloodline as she'd chosen to preserve her virginity in case she'd ever be defiled by a creature like himself, then drained into a mindless ghoul. He never would have wished that on her.

The Hellsing line was finished with her, and it would befall upon the government to take the helm. Which meant someone else would not treat him and his former fledgling with much understanding; he would not take that chance, and his master knew that. Which was why she did what she had before her final breaths were over just prior to the stroke of midnight on the eve of what was known as the Saint Walpurgis' Eve. She set him and Seras free, but they would still be fierce protectors of the world against the undead hordes.

She released them both because they were bound to her and her family, not to bureaucrats. She trusted them with her life and the country's - and the world.

He looked her over from the moment he returned and in her final moments ten more years later. Age had not changed her spirit, though she was calmer and quick-tempered. Just as he told the late queen, time made her more beautiful. Something he would never know unless a human he had long desired would come his way...

Alucard closed his eyes as the coffin was finally lowered into the ground, and instantly was dirt being shoveled atop it and the flowers. He'd seen it all in his barely seven centuries of life.

So had she, but she still shed tears for someone near and dear whom she lost, and many more to come in the years ahead. She had been with her in all the years of my absence, and she was here at the end.

He was beyond impressed that she didn't become a beast at heart. When he accepted the man and monster he was together, when he no longer ate, drank, or lived the way the humans did.

Now that his master was gone - his lady, his Countess - he felt the will to live slipping...except for the one who was standing close enough beside him, wiping her eyes of the bloody tears, the fluids blending into the dark fabric of her gloves. She was the reason he was still here, not only because of their master's final wishes.

When these services were over, they were leaving England and going abroad - to the soils of their birthplace.

~o~

Once in her immortal lifetime, she'd been to Romania, where vampires originated.

As a human, she read about it in history and classic literature, and this place was one of them that had lived on these grounds for centuries among so many others. Who would have thought her former master wanted to go HERE of all places?

Romania was like a real fairytale land, but despite its romantic, mystical and dreamy landscapes and castles - historical landmarks to modernized noble estates down to the peasants' simple structures - it was rife with a bloody history, especially with the infamous Vlad III's time. When Seras Victoria was a little girl, her parents told her about Count Dracula, the fictional cape-wearing vampire count that the entire world knew about since Bram Stoker's novel. Inspired by two fearsome characters in Eastern Europe's past: previously mentioned Vlad the Impaler and Elizabeth Bathory, the "Blood Countess" of Hungary.

Contrary to popular beliefs, vampires could walk about in daylight, but it wasn't natural for them. When they touched down, it meant a rest in their coffins which they brought with them and would be transported to a small hotel...but when night fell, it was their activities' time.

Should they come across an enemy vampire, this was still part of their lives.

They sat aboard a first-class plane to the country, normally dressed but wearing sunglasses; she would never see him without his signature, shiny orange pair. But Seras preferred simple black for herself - which was a contrast to what she was wearing right now: pure white in the form of a strapless mini with a tulip skirt that slit at the side. Something she shifted for herself after seeing a lot out there that she didn't have to worry about getting for herself anymore. And when he saw this, Alucard deeply chuckled and teased her about being a vampire - a child of the night - and yet she still insisted on wearing virginal, innocent white. And on her feet were glittering white sneakers, which was a twist on things since she was prone to action as much as him, having lived for close to five decades now but would appear nineteen forever...

...or until she was tired of it.

"But on second thought...it does your delicious self justice."

And that also included everything down to her favorite ponytail accented with the silk gold and blushing blossoms. Seras expected him to snidely comment on her sweet appearance, since they were on a pleasure getaway - and maybe some shootings during the time - and that she really did look human except for the red eyes which would be a giveaway.

"After five decades of life, that one side of you has not changed at all. I would have thought that it would, Police Girl."

"You're still calling me that after I drank your blood as soon as you returned ten years ago?" Seras retorted, when they were still on the flight and over the mountains of Eastern Europe, soon to reach Romanian borders.

A decade ago with his return, he didn't once call her "Police Girl", but Seras - her name given at human birth. The one her parents gave her before they were taken from her. Just like that night he petted her head and called her by her name, acknowledging that she was a proper vampire...and that left one thing to do which she was ready for.

When she tasted his blood, how could she describe it? She never got to taste wine in her life since she hadn't been of age, but she supposed it was just as mature women and men described: musky like oak, ripe like the grapes it was made of, and intensely scented like incense.

Different blood smelled uniquely now to the point it no longer disgusted her, though it depended on enemies she encountered, just like when she skewed Zorin Blitz until there was nothing left of her head for what she did to Captain Bernadotte.

Alucard chuckled heartily. "You're no longer my fledgling, but it ever remains an endearing term, dear Seras - dragă," he purred, laugh vibrating along with the glass of red wine he brought to his lips - not his preferred blood wine, but something to temporarily sustain until his natural substance was brought back.

He had spoken to her in his native Romanian tongue. She had learned enough of it over the years to know what this word in particular meant, though there were many definitions to list off, all of which brought a warmth to her cheeks which overpowered the cold.

Dear.

Sweetheart.

Darling.

Love.

Oh, dear God, was he toying with her this way? Sometimes, she wondered if he was playing with her as he always did with her and Sir Integra. Now would not be a surprise.

Sometimes, it is difficult to believe that this is the same man from the mid-1400s - the one who was a hero to his people, a living devil to others.

When she saw him in his true form, at level zero on his master's orders, Seras thought she had been transported back to those ancient times: the warrior's armor, blood-hued cape which flared out behind him, and that mustache which made him more masculine - that long, midnight hair wild and gleaming as she knew it. And his accent, rough but soothing to the nerves and her heartstrings...

Imagine any human girls her age and younger exploding within the ovaries at the sight of him and listening to his voice.

This man...the man who saved her from that priest in Cheddar and changed her because she wasn't ready to die. She never figured it out from the moment they met, but she never would have imagined he was really the one fearful people called an embodiment of Satan himself. Perhaps he was, since she'd seen what he was capable of, and yet it didn't frighten her the more time she spent with him.

On one hand, he was a hero when he valiantly defended his country against the mighty Ottomans. That she read about in school at the orphanage, but it was so easy to shallowly lump him as the one depicted in Bram Stoker's book, even with the gruesome acts he committed against opponents and his own people who broke the law in small to greatly offensive ways. On one level, for the most part.

But I know there has to be more to him. Not to sugar-coat it, but Dracula himself was a man who had a heart that he gave when the chance would come...only for it to be trampled on again. That's what SHE did to him.

~o~

It felt like heaven to be home - heaven the way he saw fit, since he was free, which felt foreign, but once he got used to it, it would be just like the old times. Only now he wasn't alone in this.

Constructed during his early years, this place was home in his family and then fell into neglect after his death. He returned when he rose from his own death, and this was his home again in the next four centuries to come, when his fate changed again because of another woman whom he had foolishly believed was his salvation. Someone to have a peaceful life with, walk the darkness with him...

It was exactly as he remembered in his prime as a human, and so much more now in this present. Hmmm, very fanciful indeed in its restoration. A perfect tourist attraction for these humans in its season. And the brochures have done it justice: "modern architects projected it to their own wistful interpretations of how a great Gothic castle should look". Them and their romantic escapades within their lives and minds...but they are right about what remains as my home.

In the setting sun, the brick of the great castle appeared to be rosy gold, the tall triangular roofs rouge as women's lips - the ones in sight, anyways - and the bridge he and Seras crossed overlooked the valley and small waterfall from the equally slight Zlaști River. Various windows and balconies were embellished with stoned carvings. In its day and age, it was a fortress as great as the one Prince Vlad III himself fortified with his loyal servants beneath him - including the nobles he enslaved - as a testament that they not renege against him, when the real enemy was outside.

Even enemies inside made dangerous friends.

But then this place ended in his human life as a bittersweet reminder, when a so-called ally who would have helped the Wallachian prince regain his throne imprisoned him within his own walls in Hungary.

Now, crossing the threshold, it was an empty feast for the eyes to behold. Beneath this baroque luxury would be the dungeons, but here, you were granted fantasy and comfort in your wildest dreams. He could still see the times he learned to fight in the courtyard under the very same man who fought against the Turks and taught young Vlad everything he knew, before his father sent him and his brother off to the Sultan as payment for loyalty...but here he found himself imprisoned even in his young days then. Life was hell from the moment he was born.

"Oh, this courtyard - I feel like I am in the book world!" Seras' eyes sparkled just like fire when she beheld their first surroundings before they were inside the actual castle itself. Her enthusiasm was endearing; half of him was jealous of her since she didn't know what it was like to live in his time, though you could fault no one for coming from a different era than yourself.

This place had far too many hellish memories, with very few precious ones that he sometimes wished outweighed the bloody ones.

The many balconies and staircases were masterpieces from the earth, carved by man's suffering, from outside to inside. Each step taken was an echo to the senses, getting louder and louder each time -

- until they finally stopped when they were inside the castle itself. Having slipped into neglect after his death, undergone many repairs, here it was nearly as it was first built. Everything from the stained glass windows to the gilded Renaissance ceilings, the long red carpets and matching curtains. Even tapestries from the age.

The sooner Alucard laid his eyes on his family's crest which remarkably still hung on a wall, he felt his lips stretch ear to ear. Even now was he proud to be the son of a great ruler, ordained by the Church.

Seras caught where he was looking, and then she finally spoke softly. "Is it difficult to come back home?"

"Difficult? Long ago, but now it makes no difference," he answered readily. "It feels warm, now that it is just...the two of us." And thirty years of being without you and our master, then to see and feel you lap at my blood to become like me...it's only made it that much sweeter.

After well over six hundred years, nothing would be taken with great care like short-lived humans who took advantage very rarely and would live to regret it. He learned long ago to live with the ghosts of the past, relished the kill and the power it gave him, and truly loved another who inspired him to live for it all after she was gone.

One remained, so why not take advantage of that? He had so much to teach her in these ways; no doubt she would be all too willing as soon as he got her to a certain room, and when that was over, she would learn more about his home as they had all the time in the world.

She intoxicated him even when she was just "Police Girl" to him, from the night in Cheddar to now. Still virtually innocent even now, in a different manner than Sir Integra. She was an angel and a demon together. She was HIS - and that was why he called her "darling" in his tongue.

He could just already envision all the things he intended to do to her, to hear what words he could drive from her - even infuriating her by calling her his pet - and see every sweet outline which would typically be the curves and silkiness of a common whore. Everything that made his mouth water with hunger. He could hardly wait to taste her blood again, this time with the intent of making her HIS.

"Vino la culcare."

He spoke once more in Romanian, knowing full well she would understand him, and when she did, her eyes grew wide like a doe's, and next thing she would know, he took her hand and whisked her through the walls to find the one room he had once shared with the first true love of his life.

~o~

Sun was setting, and when it would be gone, that sandstone fireplace would be lit with the logs currently placed at its side. But it was a complete surprise to even come to this room straight away when there was still so much ground to cover.

She would have found it hard to believe this was his home - built by the one who eventually had his father put to death - but once you were on its grounds, that doubt was erased altogether. And to see him looking around with something akin to nostalgia made her assume it was hard to return, when he actually took it well with that smile of his.

He had not been back here since Abraham Van Hellsing took him prisoner after his defeat, he told her. After Mina abandoned him to live a normal life with her husband, when he believed he could get her to love him, having seen more of his dead wife than Mina herself - but he had also been attracted to her fiery spirit. This made Seras relax when he liked that in Sir Integra, was riled up by it especially over the phone...and now with her, as she learned years ago.

He took her straight to this room - the room he told her that he shared with the love of his life, Elisabeta.

He knew her well like an opened book by now, sometimes pissing her off so much she would love to curse at him, and when she did, it became a game of theirs: he would warn her darkly about choosing her words carefully. They made or broke.

He must have known what it was she felt for him. Something that wasn't sweet as fairytales, but something much sweeter and much more intense than humans could bear that they often called "unhealthy for mind and soul". But they were not human beings anymore, and their kind was made to push those boundaries.

His hot breath and darkly seductive voice was in her ears: "I'm not a fool, Seras. I know what resides in that heart of yours. Vampiric hearts do not function the way they did as humans, except one thing: sensation and feelings. Admittedly, it's suppressed and sealed away, but it's as natural as anything to come and go. I saw it in your bloody tears at our master's final rest. Suppose this is considered her last wish as well as our own."

The manner he spoke and the way he held her so close to his body - her torso arched backwards so that her breasts were flushed against his powerful chest, even her hips against his, one hand cupping the underside of one buttock, almost pulling the small white skirt up - was more than enough for her to figure it out, and it excited her to no end. Innocent schoolgirl no more. If the ghoul transformation of impure humans didn't exist, would she still have felt the same way if she were human again? Maybe, maybe not.

"Are we going to do it now, Alucard?" Seras asked, getting a rumble.

"Not just yet, meu dama. My Draculina. The sun is still setting, and then we have the whole night for each other. Until then, I believe we have a lot more to talk about. High time, wouldn't you say so? What better way than within MY walls?"

And sat before the fireplace together they did, working together on getting it going despite the weather. Fires amplified mood. And here she listened to his life's story: his father, Vlad II, was indoctrinated into the knight society known as the Order of the Dragon. This made his eldest son proud of having this blood in his veins. Thus given the name of Dracul, and in turn, his son named himself "Dracula". Speaking volumes of said pride.

Was it a surprise that the times were violent, filled with territorial disputes and unrest? The need for stability and honor were drilled into the young prince from the very beginning, which drove him even when his own father gave him and his brother Radu to the Sultan of the Ottomans as tribute. All to gain alliance so he could get his throne back. From the start was Romania caught in the middle between these bastards and the Hungarians.

He grew up biding his time while pretending to be a part of the Turks, internally refusing to give over to them - and being RAPED for his "misbehaving" - but his own brother did. Such betrayal's unforgiveable. I understand how he must have felt; it's just like what Walter did.

Despite well treatment, Vlad and Radu witnessed all kinds of terror usage - including what would become the eldest's favored method of impalement. All the things he saw shaped him into what history would know him as. What Seras had been afraid of like everyone else...now coming to understand from the man himself.

Not only did he indulge her with what she knew already and expansions upon those deeds - and of course, the frightening punishments for adulterous women and whores - but he also told her about none other than his beloved Elisabeta, who was the bastard daughter of the Hungarian regent. Historians agreed on that fact but never knew her identity, and now she knew it herself.

But just as the legend told of this man, she threw herself off the tower to her death rather than being captured by enemies. This destroyed Vlad's heart altogether.

Now this shifted to the talk of her in a far more personal level: she was blonde, beautiful, intelligent, kind and also fierce. His Elisabeta never defied him or crossed him, but she wasn't below speaking her disapproval at half the things he did. Their fights would be so intoxicating it ended with being tangled in the bedsheets, sometimes biting and bruising which made it all the more sweet. One time conceived their son, Mihnea, who was born in 1462.

It was another story, but that boy would one day become prince himself for a year, except he wasn't a very popular ruler among the noble boyars, resulting in his overthrow and death.

He does miss his son; he hasn't seen him since his own death and resurrection.

It was then that they both realized that the sun was gone, leaving behind nothing but velvety blackness with streaks of smoky gray. Alucard growled and licked his lips at the sight. "Finally..."

"So, more about your life tomorrow?" Seras had to ask.

"Indeed. Plenty more time until then. Right now, something we both have waited long enough for, Draculina. Something that was deprived of me a long time ago, but you will savor for the first time of many to come."

Seras heard herself groan at his words, amplifying when he came so close to her in their kneeling position before the fire. Her body enflamed all over by just a simple spark that spread faster than a forest wildfire. He pulled her close again, hands bruising her body with everything they had. Didn't hurt, only added more flames, harsh hisses and whimpers to escape her lips.

The next thing Seras knew was that her dress was unceremoniously ripped from her lushly curved body, making her gasp with shock. "Oh, you -! I love this dress!" Seras said, almost angrily which made him laugh again.

He was working on undressing himself, that collared white shirt ripped off audibly without a care along with everything covering his lower body. "Oh, you do, but it's nothing we can't repair ourselves." You mean nothing we can't restore without handmade materials from earth, by the humans. You're right, my dear former master.

"Pleases me greatly that you are still a virgin in your vampiric state, iubit." He'd just called her beloved. "If you hadn't been, I would have done to you what any unfaithful wife or wench would have deserved: your breasts removed and the spike through where you received pleasure and birthed a child."

Had she'd lived in his time, she would have been so scared she'd vomited, but she also understood it was his great concern over female purity, given impurity was against all religious edicts. And what he did not mention now was that the man the defiling woman had her affair with would be forced to EAT her severed breasts. That had caused young Seras to have nightmares for months if not years.

Makes me glad I am not one of those women. And I will not betray him as long as I live, even if I am tempted.

Seras yelped in surprise when he took her by surprise, grabbing her by her hair after he pulled the silk flowers and tie, letting the neck-length mane free so he could grasp and pull her head back, though not snapping her neckbone. Following the surprise throb was immense pleasure which he smelled off of her. "You want more, Seras?" Alucard hissed, leaning down and slipping his tongue out to lick along the column of her neck.

"Ohhhh, yessss, my Master!"

"...master, eh? Not as we were in the past, but you are willingly bending to my will, as you always have. I love it when you fight me when you do. As soon as I have you in that bed behind us, you will. I look forward to it." He was absolutely right. "But before we get to the best part, I believe what we do firsthand to get into the mood is foreplay. Look upon me while I do the same, Seras."

She did as he said, and when she did, her sensitive areas flared to life and painfully became taut. Her nipples, for one, which he lasciviously ravished upon noticing, forcing out the cries from her throat. Even Pip could not get them from her, not even in his final moments despite the fact she did care about him to an extent.

"Mmm, you taste divine. Just like the sweets I recall of my time, meu dama. But those human foods don't matter as much as what is in front of me, existing on my taste buds. Though I will say your breasts are far more exquisite than blood alone; I can also smell you where you anxiously wait for me." He was referring to where she itched and squished for him, which made her cheeks hotter than the sun itself. He deeply rumbled in his throat. "Perhaps this will also add to the concoction called desire. Take a look upon me now, Seras."

She did, and when she looked upon him right after he released her, standing at a distance so she could see his naked body, what a feast she was given. Broad shoulders ripped with lines that did not do the hillsides justice, his pectorals too hard to even belong to a human soldier, his abdominals being sectioned into eight parts rather than six, hips slim and thighs cut like the arms - and there was none other than that horse called a manhood which pushed her over the edge. Large as a hot dog and crowned with a fine mass of black, wild as the mane which went past his waist. She had no time to measure with her eyes as to how long he was before he raved his desire as he caught where she was looking.

"You see something that arouses you, little woman?" he drawled. "You don't have to answer that, my dearest. I can smell it AND see it, and that is all I need. Oh, I will consume you and give you so much in return...!"

The beast within her was unleashed in a fit of fury. "Then grab me by my hair, bite me - where you bit me all those years ago - and make me your queen of the night!" she screamed, loud enough to make the ceiling rattle.

Alucard - or rather, Vlad - let loose his infamous maniacal laugh at her masochistic streak she developed over the years, a side she never knew she had in her. "Oh, my little iubit, what an irresistible hellcat you've turned into. Your wish will be granted, but before that, you shall drop down on your pretty little knees and do one thing for me. It's been a hell of an eternity since I let any woman touch me like this." Then his fangs were bared as he hissed. "Be sure to use your teeth. You know I LOVE the pleasure pain gives me."

Down on her knees, she faced where he passionately and painfully throbbed for her - and when she took him into her mouth, he growled and threw his head back, laughing and groaning in one. He tasted no differently than any meat she enjoyed in her past life, but that didn't mean it was foul, either. She moaned when his pulsations caused those same sensations to travel to where her womanhood was craving. She could feel the drip down both insides of her thighs, so unnaturally amazingly.

Bringing his release and skillfully swallowing it, Seras licked her lips of both his seed and his blood, but her teeth showed the red tips of what was left. He smirked when he saw himself there, pleased with her work. "You wish for me to let my hair grow long in the future?" Seras asked, standing up so she faced him bodily close again.

"Oh, yesss, indeed. I can think of plenty of things regarding your long hair I am already foreseeing." Plenty of things involving what humans called BDSM - that sounds so exciting!

He wasted no time then and there, taking her over to the bed which was a four-poster of dark wood, carved extravagantly with swirls in the posts and vines in the headboard. The quilt was rich wine red embroidered with dramatic golden piping forming medallions and diamond patterns. Made for royalty, and by birthright, he still was, which made her marrying into that royalty in a sense.

Her nails dug into the hard expanses of his back, his long hair elongating behind him into caressing tendrils which ran wild like vines in the jungle, that rod ramming into her, and if there were any tears, they would repair automatically. Twice did he bite her, not counting the mating mark which she also gave him on the opposite side, and that was on both breasts to drink from her there. Always part of the vampire mating ritual, this has been. Taking you to the highest of the heavens, floating over the earth and its waters below...

His snarls became roars as his fangs were on display, throwing his head back as his coil unraveled to release the liquids of his manhood into her womb; no children to come between them, but it didn't bother Seras as she never wanted to have children when she was human. It was such an exquisite sensation that caused her to think about what they dealt with everyday: just think about those poor humans who enjoy life this way, married and unmarried, and still become monsters against their wills. Unlike those stories I used to read about. It's so unfair I never got to enjoy this as a human -

- but then HE would have made me one of those things. I never would have known Mr. Bernadotte, the boys, and Sir Integra...and Walter, regardless of what he became in the end.

Which was why there was no room now for wondering what could have been.

~o~

Yesss...it's been here all these years. After all the changes this place has gone through in my absence.

Efforts had been taken to great lengths in order to hide this from the rest of the world, and he had begun to suspect it was lost during reconstruction, but he had been proven wrong when he decided now to find it and pull out the contents hidden behind the mortar. He had intended to give this to Elisabeta before she was taken from him - the Sultan's army and his treacherous pawn of a brother to blame for her death, cornering her - and then when he encountered Mina, he thought it was redemption for his heart...until the chance was taken again. She reminded him so much of his iubit, so that was why he allowed himself to be weakened and go to the extremes, including her friend Lucy.

He had given up thinking about this altogether when Van Hellsing enslaved him, even when his great-granddaughter gave him a brand new purpose, but now he was back with a far greater treasure of a woman.

This box from behind the fireplace - this fine craftsmanship of a keepsake which was unlocked only by a key, which was still there, thank God if he could side with him just this once - had trimmings which were the finest gold ever, molded into fleur-de-lis and four-petaled flowers, joined by pewter roses; he was incredibly lucky that silver wasn't used at the time, but what did it matter? Beneath the exquisite moldings was the glittering green of his lands. In this country and others, the color referred to intense desire and love, which was also why brides loved this along with red and blue. Elisabeta wore green on our marriage day. And he'd loved her more than he could have loved his second wife who came after her, more for political necessities.

Within the treasure box was a matching necklace, bracelet and ring set, all of which was also made up of fine pewter. The choker and bracelet consisted of swirls which came to join with a pristine blue-green stone of multiple facets, topped with a skull and framed with roses. The ring itself also swirled around the same stone, though in the shape of a glimmering heart.

All these years was it hidden away, preserved by luck and fate. They would finally be worn.

Alucard, still nude on purpose, slipped out of the room and phased into a colony of bats, heading out a window which was one of the last surviving opened exits and escapes into monstrous heights. Outside, he restored himself to normal, finding himself by the waterfall from the river. The soft roaring was music to his ears, and beyond, he could hear the bats and night birds taking flight.

He extended his connection to his new mate, rousing her from her sleep. Turned out that she had awoken on her own because of the natural timing. "Time to get up, Draculina. Come to me as you are; I have a gift for my new bride."

Her response was somewhat groggy. "Where are you, love?"

"Outside, below the bridge and next to the waterfall. It's such a beautiful night you don't need clothes..." Alucard sensed her stunned embarrassment, but then it was gone. He grinned, waiting patiently until she arrived, and he sensed her presence behind him. Turning around, his long hair whispering about his body, he beheld the glorious sight of Seras Victoria with her shorter hair glowing beneath the moonlight.

"What a beautiful night, isn't it?" Here they were in his country, surrounded by untouched beauty. Life, death and love in the air. He then held out the box containing what would have been his first wife's jewels. She looked at it with slightly wide eyes, a soft gasp leaving her lips.

"You're giving THOSE to me?"

"Yes, because they never got to have their day. Time has come now, meu iubit."

Those treasures now found themselves around her neck - close to the throat - as well as her right wrist and finally on that finger which was binding in marriage. She was overwhelmed, and there the bloody tears were again which he leaned down to kiss, pulling her close to him again.

The No-Life King held his new queen like this for a long time, gazing up at the moon which slowly became red in his eyes, igniting his veins. It was now a perfect time to take her on the hunt for fresh blood.

When Seras thinks about any girls' ovaries exploding, the idea came from several videos of Crispin Freeman (Alucard's VA), these comments spoken by the ladies. XD

Vino la culcare translation: "come to bed". :3 Iubit means "beloved" and other related terms (darling, dear, lover, paramour, precious, sweetheart). And meu dama roughly means "my woman", used in one of these inspiring stories.

These are the fics which have inspired me to bring this to life: "Angels Among Demons" by Eternal Clarity, "Child of the Night" by GypsyWanderer93 (meu dama mentioned), "Waking the sleepy dragon" by shadowanime1 (third chapter when the duo arrives in Romania), and "Eternity" by CzyDauTep. And of course, I was influenced by research on Vlad III - the real Count Dracula. ;D As everyone else was. One source in particular was "Vlad the Impaler: The Real Life Count Dracula" on YouTube, posted by Biographics; it's a short but accurate account of his deeds and life.

It's rumored that Vlad the Impaler was imprisoned in Castle Corvin when he was captured, though it was in Hungary instead.

You may have figured it out, but for those who haven't, Elisabeta was the name of Dracula's wife in the 1992 film with his portrayal by Gary Oldman. Based on historical factor and fiction sticking with what I felt was right. :) Plus, we don't know the name of Vlad III's first wife, which gives plenty of opportunities in each incarnation; it's also believed she was the illegitimate daughter of Hungarian regent, John Hunyadi, which makes Vlad's eventual fate additionally devastating in terms of a somewhat personal connection.

Also positive all of you know this, too, but green was popular in wedding dresses of the medieval period, and if you look at Mina/Elisabeta's gowns in much of the film, it represents love, lust and sexual desire (according to IMDb trivia). Plus, rosemary leaves are present, meaning fidelity and love in wedding bouquets, while in wreaths at funerals, they mean loss, death and mourning.

Saint Walpurgis' Eve is one of many names for April 30-May 1 which is none other than Walpurgis Night (German Walpurgisnacht), and it is the springtime equivalent of Halloween, the event's name meaning "winter's end". Related to May Day and Easter. What happens is that people light bonfires on the eve to ward off evil spirits and witches, then dance and celebrate into the night.

The castle is inspired by Poenari Castle, which is mentioned in the novel by Bram Stoker, being historical Voivode - and also in appearance by Hunyad Castle (also known as Corvin) which was Vlad III's prison. And these words are by humans in real life, regarding the real Corvin: "modern architects projected it to their own wistful interpretations of how a great Gothic castle should look."

Seras' new necklace, bracelet and ring were inspired by the Alchemy Gothic The Dogaressas's Last Love Bracelet and Necklace found on "The Black Cat Closet" website. It was inspired by the final token of devotion from the bereaved widow of a dying aristocrat in Renaissance Venice.

REVIEW! :3 Lots of loving detail much appreciated. There also won't be a sequel, but I do have another shot planned.