Rating: R for language and suggestive situations.
Title: Sarabande
Disclaimer: Hellsing, Alucard, Sir Integral Hellsing, and all related characters, et cetera © Kouta Hirano, Pioneer, Gonzo, Monthly Young King Ours Magazine, ad infinitum. The use of these characters and settings is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement is intended or should be inferred.
Spoiler Alert: Minor spoilers to Order 9: Red Rose Vertigo and Order 10: Master of Monster.
Summary: He was still smiling at her, the smile that she didn't expect, didn't understand.
Pairings: Alucard/Integra
Author's Notes: To date, my first and only anime-related fanfic. It was an exercise for me, a change of pace. A minor character study and a bit of fancy.
Sarabande
Most people would not have heard him enter the room. His footfalls were barely louder than that of a cat's velvet paw. But she heard him. She felt him.
She could even smell him.
Leather, cotton, gunmetal, vetiver, and...something else.
Blood. That was it. Blood. Tinged with bergamot. She wasn't certain she wanted to know why it was so.
She didn't move; she simply listened to him as he drew closer to her. His steps were measured. He was being cautious with her? Granted, her Beretta was in easy reach, but she had no reason to shoot him...even if he was...did he not trust her?
"It's not like that. It's nothing like that."
Even though she knew he was behind her, the sound of his voice still served to quicken her pulse. She fought to regain her composure, knowing that he noticed the change in her heartbeat, that he smelled the adrenaline, that he was smirking over the fact that he had still managed to get to her.
"And a good evening to you, Alucard." Her voice betrayed nothing of the anger and embarrassment she felt within. For that she was grateful. She had to always be on guard, in particular, on her guard with him.
With a theatrical flourish, the garish red overcoat twirling, he waltzed around her armchair, and took up a spot immediately next to her. He insouciantly sat on the edge of the desk and grinned at her, teeth and fangs gleaming in the moonlight. "Good evening, Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing." The vampire over-enunciated each name, relishing every drawn out syllable. His scarlet eyes glittered at her from above the rims of his sunglasses.
Hellsing found herself wondering if the vampire held as much of a lust for language as he did for battle. Or perhaps he just enjoyed hearing himself talk. She fancied it was both.
He had positioned himself between Hellsing and the ashtray on her desk. This annoyed her to some degree as her still smouldering cigarillo was resting on the other side of him.
"What is it that you want, Alucard" She leaned back in the chair and folded her hands before her, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. As he had deliberately placed himself between her and the cigar, so she might as well deny him the pleasure of seeing her bothered.
Indeed, her imperturbable expression gave the vampire cause to pout. "All I merely wanted was to wish you a good evening...Master."
"Hmm. Indeed." A moment's pause. "You should know, Alucard, that fangs ruin any cute pout."
This made him blink at her. Hellsing suppressed a smile. That felt good, shutting him up for once. When he finally regained himself, he flashed a toothy grin at her. "Does that mean you'd think my pout cute without the fangs"
She hissed a sigh between tight lips and reached across him to retrieve her cigarillo. Damn him for his ability to turn around everything I say to him. "You are incorrigible, Alucard."
She was forced to stretch across his lap to reach the ashtray, and as a result had to touch him in the process. She noted that he didn't move to avoid being grazed by her arm; on the contrary, he folded his legs to present an even greater obstacle and again smirked down at her.
Hellsing would have ignored his little display, except that in making more of an obstruction of his body, Alucard had also moved the ashtray just beyond her reach.
She paused in mid-stretch and glared up at him, her icy blue eyes regarding him in disdain. "What are you doing"
He continued to smirk down at her. Alucard folded his arms across his chest, leaned forward slightly, and said"Just having a bit of fun, Integra. You know, you should really give those up. Such a terrible habit. They'll be the death of you."
She nearly laughed at the comment. It would be a terrific irony, that. The lifetime of an ordained vampire hunter foreshortened not by a Nosferatu, not by a ghoul, or by a damned freak, not by dark magic, not even by a half-mad power-craving uncle, but by...lung cancer.
As it was, Alucard was enjoying the position she was in, both figuratively and literally. Hellsing noted that it would be frightfully embarrassing if Walter or Seras were to walk in at that moment. The potential for humiliation raised her level of ire. "It's my damn habit" she bit off at him. "Now, if you would, please, the ashtray"
He grinned again, practically savouring her irritation. "Yes, my Master" he purred.
His voice. That voice. When he says it like that, that word, just like that, there are times when he can sound almost - no, no, no, no, no. She couldn't allow herself to think that, not ever, above all, not with him in front of her.
She suddenly felt the edge of the glass ashtray against the fabric of her glove. He had moved it back into her range. But she felt nothing within; the ashtray was empty. She looked up, and saw that he was puffing on the cigarillo.
Integra grit her teeth together and slowly got to her feet, making certain to not break eye contact with him. Even though he was seated on her desk, she and Alucard were still eye-to-eye. "You do not smoke" she growled at him. "You don't even breathe." The vampire was truly testing her this evening, and he had been in her presence for all of five minutes.
Alucard took another drag on the cigar. "You're right. I don't breathe." She opened her mouth to issue a rebuke, but was stunned when he took the cigarillo from his lips and placed it onto hers. "With my advanced age and all... Mmm, so sorry, Integra, I must have forgotten" he smiled at her.
What...what is this... She wasn't confident if feeling and...tasting...him, on her lips, or the smile...such a sincere smile...regardless, Alucard's actions stunned Integra.
The cigarillo hung slack from her mouth and the vampire had to hold it gently in place. She was again taken aback. It was an unexpected tenderness compounding an unpredicted forwardness. He carefully withdrew the item, inhaled on it a few times to keep the cinder burning, and then tenderly put the cigar back on her lips. He repositioned it so she could speak. "Th-thank you" Integra finally managed.
He was still smiling at her, the smile that she didn't expect, didn't understand. "You're welcome" he kindly said to her.
Integra stood before him, slightly dumbfounded at the near intimacy of the exchange. It gradually suggested itself to her that the scene was more intimate still; she was standing before him, close to him, closer than she had been to him in over ten years, and Alucard had a leg outstretched on either side of her.
If she was a lesser person, her eyes would have widened at the realization and she surely would have blushed. As it were, it took a great deal of her resolve to keep her emotions from registering on her features. She took the cigarillo between her gloved fingers, took a long drag, and then coolly exhaled a cloud of smoke at Alucard. "And all you wanted to say was good night."
He was unscathed by her act of churlishness. Alucard continued to smile at her, a touch of cunning playing about his mouth now, and nodded. "Indeed."
"And that's all" She was smiling now as well, but Integra didn't know exactly why she was smiling or why she asked that question.
The vampire levelled one of his familiar smirks at her. He took off his wide-brimmed hat and threw it onto the seat of her chair. "There may yet be one more thing...my Master."
The way he said it...it almost put a chill down her spine. "Well? What is it, then" she snapped at him. At least his constant bafflement of her helped Integra keep the uncertainty from her voice.
Still leering at her, and without uttering a sound, Alucard gently slid forward on the desk and pulled Integra into him by wrapping his long legs around her. Hellsing could not keep her eyes from widening at his action. He plucked the cigarillo from her limp fingers and again placed it upon her lips. "Take in a breath" he murmured to her. Integra felt inexplicably compelled to obey him. She took a slow drag on the cigar and when she was done, he moved the cigarillo away. "Now exhale." As she did so, Alucard leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips.
Startled, Integra tried to cry out, but Alucard held her fast. His legs, wrapped around her body, gave her no way to turn. To augment his hold on her, Alucard placed his free hand on the back of her neck and deepened his kiss.
Hellsing's mind raced madly. A barrage of thoughts and sensations assailed her and she could not make order out of the bedlam. Unbidden, the vampire who called her 'Master' had kissed her...was kissing her...musky tobacco mingling with wine that burgundy he loves so damn much consuming bottle after expensive bottle of it almost drinks more burgundy than blood mingling with earl grey the bergamot that was where the bergamot came from but he dislikes tea why did he have tea this evening I am the one who prefers the taste of bergamot not he mingling with a faintly metallic taste like iron I have tasted before when the bitch stabbed me the familiar stain...Alucard killed the foul creature that harmed me, tried to turn me into a goddamned ghoul...Alucard waited through the operation...guiding...never lost hope...Alucard...warmer...softer... very tender...more so than I would have ever thought...
Hellsing remembered the use of her hands and put them on his shoulders in an attempt to break away from Alucard. But she discovered that she had not the strength to do so. He's done something to me, the bastard, the logical part of her mind concluded; he's bewitched me in some fashion so I cannot fight against this damnable unprovoked advance.
The illogical part of her mind was fixed upon one thing: that he was kissing her exactly the way that she had, now and again, before dawn coloured the sky with its amber fire, dreamt that he one day might.
The two halves of her mind started to war with one another as her hands tightened into fists, clutching the lapels of Alucard's overcoat in anxiety and confusion, awaiting instructions from whichever part of her mind won.
Alucard slowly, hesitantly, stopped kissing her and partially withdrew, staying close enough so that their noses almost touched. He took his hand from the small of her neck and pulled off his sunglasses.
"Do you know why I wear these" he asked her, holding the gold-red lenses before her.
Pale cerulean eyes met shining crimson eyes. The question and the sound of his voice helped to wrest Integra's psyche from its stupor. "You're sensitive to the light" she stated quietly.
He shook his head in a negative. "No...well, not exactly, Integra." He took her eyeglasses off, causing her world to shift out of focus, and then placed his sunglasses upon her nose. His young-old face came into view and she was surprised to find that she could see perfectly well with his spectacles on. In fact, she could see him, see her office, everything, better than with her prescription glasses. The world seemed so much clearer with his sunglasses on. Her mouth was nearly agape at her newfound vision.
Hellsing stared at the vampire in wonder. It was as though she were seeing the world for the first time. Seeing him for the first time.
"I wear them" he began"because they make my eyes look brown." He stopped, lowering his gaze. "My eyes used to be brown" he whispered.
Integra was caught completely unawares. She had never expected him to say anything of the sort. Nothing so personal. Nothing so...human. She gaped at him, not knowing what, if anything, she could say in return. Integra became dimly conscious of the fact that she was removing her gloves. She allowed them to drop onto the desk. Her hand, almost of its own accord, touched Alucard's chin. He moved with a sudden jerk, as shocked as she was at the physical contact. Over the years, the two of them had never touched. They had no reason to. No desire to. In the last ten minutes they had felt contact with one another more than in the last ten years.
His skin was cool upon her fingers. Smooth. White as alabaster, she had always imagined that it would be hard to the touch. But it was not; it was softer. Just as with the feel of his lips, his skin was suppler than she ever imagined. His skin was cool but not cold. He was dead and yet...he still felt...alive.
She titled his head so that she could see into his eyes. In amazement, she saw that he was right; with his sunglasses on, with her wearing his glasses, his eyes appeared brown to her. Why hadn't I noticed that before? It always seemed his eyes were burning embers, when she could see them. And how could he know? How do you know these glasses make your eyes brown? How?
"I know" he murmured.
Integra let slip a gasp. "You're reading my mind again. You're taking liberties with me this evening. Too many liberties." Resentment served to lift the fog of stupefaction from her mind. "What do you want of me, Alucard" She raised her hand as if to strike him.
Alucard had rid himself of the cigar and so was able to use both hands to hold Integra by the wrists. She snarled and tried to break free. "Stop it" he told her in a quiet voice.
"Why" She nearly spat the word out. "Why should I listen to you? You've been taking advantage of me, and in more ways than one. You have been manipulating me, playing me for a fool."
"Stop behaving like a prepubescent child, Integra. You are no longer thirteen years old. You are a woman."
His words momentarily stopped her struggle. "Wh-what did you say"
"You heard me the first time." He maintained his hold on her wrists and drew her hands to his chest. She was slightly unnerved by both the act and by...not feeling a heartbeat. That was unnatural. It frightened her. She knew what he was, and yet, faced with the terrible fact of it, it frightened her. "Look at me."
Alarmed, she averted her eyes. "Why" Her voice betrayed her. It sounded so small.
She heard him sigh. She couldn't remember if she had ever heard him sigh before. Laugh, yes. Snarl. Mock. Condescend. Yell. Cajole. Roar. Growl. Chuckle.
But not sigh.
"Please" he said.
He said it with nary a trace of a mocking tone. Without a sarcastic laugh. Without a snide undertone. It was sincere. He meant it. He said please. And so, she looked at him.
And her heart stung with the sight.
He looked...so young. So sad. How can he look sad? How is he capable of sadness? His eyes were brown...the eyes that had glowed with the fire of a scarlet cruelty and hunger now seemed kind and tragic. His face was full and flushed with an almost healthy glow, no longer drawn, pale, taut. His black hair fell across his face, giving him a rakish and even younger appearance.
Is this what he looked like before? Before he was made an impure soul? Was this the face of the innocent Alucard? Before his heart and spirit were darkened to black by the stigma of absolute evil? This was his countenance before slaughter, brutality, and horror made their marks upon him. This is the man known to me as Alucard, the No Life King.
The young face that she regarded was suddenly marred by concern. "Integra, what's wrong"
She could only wordlessly shake her head. She felt his hands upon her face; his slender fingers cool against her burning cheeks. His gloves were gone; she did not know how or when. Her mind attempted to focus itself on the matter of his gloves but found that it could not. He wiped away the tears that she had not realized she'd shed. She took in a quick breath and covered his hands with hers. Another intimacy.
"Dear God, I'm crying." She said this aloud without meaning to.
"But why, my Master" Worry was in his voice. She could hear it catch in his throat. The sound affected her in a way she could not give words to. "Why are you crying"
She couldn't tell him why. She couldn't. No matter how he looked, no matter how he sounded, no matter how he felt, how she felt when he kissed her...she couldn't tell him. Not now. Not ever.
"Why are you crying, Integra? Please, tell me."
Please. Again. He cannot know. I won't let him. But maybe he will understand, maybe he feels - no, no, no, no, no, NO, it would be impossible. It is all fucking impossible. There is no point in saying anything to him. It would be stupid. It would be a damn stupid thing to do.
"Integra. Why won't you tell me why you are crying? And what would be damn stupid"
All of this time I've been hollow inside. Hollow except for you. In my thoughts. In my head. I can feel you in my head.
"Integra."
Why are you haunting me?
"Miss Hellsing."
Why can I feel you? I am not supposed to feel you. I am not supposed to feel anything about you. I am Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, lord and master of the Hellsing Organisation, sworn enemy of the children of the night. I am not supposed to feel you. Your sworn enemy. Your lord and master. I am not supposed to feel. Goddamn it, you bastard, get out of my thoughts, get out of my head, vampire son of a bitch, get out of my fucking traitor heart.
"Miss Hellsing."
With a start, Sir Integral Hellsing woke from her tormented slumber.
She was sitting at her desk, her back now rigid in her chair. Her nearly spent cigarillo smouldered in the ashtray to her right. On her left, framed by the moonlight streaming in through the bullet-resistant window, was Alucard.
He gazed down at her, a strange look on his pale face. "Integra...my Master... were you...you were crying"
She choked down the last of her reverie's tears and violently wiped her cheeks dry with the back of a gloved hand. "Alucard. What are you doing here"
He tilted his head slightly. She could feel his eyes upon her, eyes that she dared not meet, watching her carefully, taking in every detail. She felt her face grow hot with embarrassment at his witnessing her moment of frailty. Such disgusting weakness. She had never cried in front of him. She had never cried in front of anyone. Never.
"If you are not going to answer me, you can damn well leave, Alucard." The statement came out more bitterly than she intended it to.
She could sense his body stiffen at the remark. She mentally admonished herself for sounding so hateful. "If that is what you wish, Master."
He almost sounds hurt.
He moved to disappear into the shadows, but she reached out a hand and clasped him firmly by the wrist. She felt his muscles tense at the contact. "No. It is not what I wish. Please...I'm sorry...Alucard..."
"Integra" She could hear a note of surprise, mild surprise, in his voice.
"You came here...for a reason..."
He took a few steps toward her, closing the distance between them. She maintained her hold of his wrist.
There's no pulse.
"I came because I wanted to wish you a good evening, Integra." His voice was quiet, restrained. He lightly loosened her grasp and took her hand from around his wrist.
He is a vampire. An impure soul.
She intertwined her fingers with his. He astounded her by responding in kind. She swallowed with difficulty. "Alucard."
He was a man, once. He is the No Life King.
"Yes, Master."
Master. The word didn't usually bother her. It didn't bother her, that he called her that. But now...tonight... "Please...stay a while with me, Alucard." She didn't look at him; she wasn't certain that she could.
In the name of God, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation.
"As you wish." He stood behind her chair, one hand resting on the back of the chair and the other holding her hand.
Amen.
They fell into silence, one that was not entirely companionable. A tacit disquiet hung in the air between them like the faint scent of her dying cigarillo, a strain that was tainted by melancholy.
Tainted by bergamot.
She could smell him. He was close enough for her to smell him. He smelled like leather, cotton, gunmetal, wine, vetiver, and...bergamot.
But not blood.
Not tonight.
She could feel the warmth of his hand through his glove and hers. He was warmer than she expected. Perhaps it was a reflection of her body heat. They rarely came into direct physical contact with one another, so she could not be certain. They had known one another for a little more than a decade now; and yet, there would be no reason for them to touch one another.
He was softer and warmer than Integra had ever thought he would be.
"Alucard" she softly asked.
"Yes, Integra." His voice matched her hushed tone.
"Alucard..." She paused; trying her best to not betray herself, betray all that was Hellsing. "What colour...before you were...what colour were your eyes, Alucard?"
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