Midian Evolution

“Your hair is just lovely.” Julianna wrestled my locks with a wide-tooth comb, and spoke to me with a mouth full of hairpins.

“Thanks.” I’d washed it last night and used the Manic Panic Virgin Toner on it. I knew if I could get out in the sun like a normal person, my hair would probably be the same color as Sir Integra’s. “I like your hair, though. Is it naturally curly?”

Julianna laughed shortly. “Yes. I have to get up an hour before anyone else just to tame it. My mother told me I should never cut my hair, and I don’t. Thank goodness it only grows out to this length.”

As she spoke, Anderson slunk through the connecting doorway between my rooms and Master’s. He leaned against the wall to watch us, his green eyes interested in the dark haired woman. I didn’t think she knew he’d come in.

“Didn’t your mother talk to you about keeping your hair long?” Julianna asked me.

“I’m an orphan,” I said. “My mother and father were murdered when I was just a kid.”

Julianna stopped combing and pinning for a moment, her mahogany eyes filling with sympathy for my sake. “I’m sorry, Mistress Victoria. I will say prayers tonight for your family.”

“Because you can’t say them for me?” I asked, feeling a little bitter.

Julianna lifted an elegant eyebrow. “No, Mistress; because you are unable to say them yourself.”

Ouch.

I sighed. “Thanks, Julianna.” I couldn’t really be mad at her. I’d never said prayers anyway, and now I really couldn’t. “I guess prayer is good for my mum and dad.” I lifted the hand mirror so I could watch how she arranged my hair.

“Prayer is good for us all, no matter our faith or our… species,” Julianna said firmly. She made a long twist of one section and pinned it firmly. Her hands were very deft and gentle. She hadn’t tugged on me painfully even once yet. “Remember, God hears you no matter what. Prayer doesn’t have to be structured. In fact, God welcomes the heartfelt voice.”

I wished I could believe her. I was a damned thing, and God would no more listen to me than he would Satan. I looked up into her eyes, curious as to how her faith worked here in Hellsing, where black magic and vampires dwelt. “How can you even bear to touch me?” I whispered. It wasn’t that I felt ashamed of what I was, but she shouldn’t be able to stand me.

Julianna put the comb down and cupped my face in her hands, her eyes solemn. “God has a purpose for all His creatures,” she said softly. “The Devil is His creation.”

Anderson sucked in a breath at the same time I did.

Julianna released me and continued to wrestle obedience from my hair. “Who am I, Seras Victoria, to question the plan of the Almighty?”

She moved slightly to the side, and I locked eyes with the fallen priest. Speaking to Julianna, but still keeping Anderson’s gaze, I said, “Everything and everyone happens for a reason, then?”

“Of course.” Julianna began to spray my hair with some sort of foul-smelling lacquer. “That’s why none of us should bemoan our fate; to do so is to fight against the way God guides our lives.”

Anderson clutched at his crucifix and closed his eyes.

What on earth is going on? Master’s voice asked. I can barely focus on Walter’s little pre-wedding melt-down up here for all the turbulent emotion going on down there.

Julianna’s preaching a sermon, I said, feeling sour and not up to the task of sorting religion. Anderson’s taking her to heart.

What about you, Sotie? he asked, chuckling.

It’s all out of my hands anyway. I don’t care if its divine intervention or infernal meddling, I have no say in any of this shit.

Master’s laughter acquired the faintest tinge of hysteria. I’ve had that thought more than once, he confessed. I have to go now; Walter’s truly in a state of decay, and I’m attempting human concern, since he has no best man other than a No-Life King.

Good for you, Master. I cut communication and sighed. I’d much rather be up there witnessing Walter’s panic than down here, getting a dose of Sunday School. But, it made me smile to imagine the Hellsing steward, our Angel of Death, intimidated by something like a ceremony. He stood on ceremony and rituals, though, which meant he was probably afraid he’d royally screw up in front of the entire household and the sole witness of the queen.

“All right, Mistress Seras,” Julianna said, stepping back. “You can put on your gown, now.”

Anderson melted back into Alucard’s chambers as Julianna started picking up all the stuff she’d used to tame my hair. I looked in the mirror to see a very elaborate, high chignon on my head. It looked pretty good. I touched it and felt appalled that I couldn’t move it at all; it felt like a helmet. Ugh.

Julianna left, and I put on my dress. I felt grateful Integra had chosen a pale green instead of white for me. She already violated all manner of tradition for marriage, going to her wedding bed already breeched, so why not include Alucard and I in the actual ceremony. Thankfully, we didn’t have to do anything but stand on either side of the couple, hand them their rings and look good.

I put on my shoes and went into Master’s chambers. “Are you attending?” I asked Anderson, who sat at Master’s table with a Bible.

“Ah don’t know why I should,” he retorted. “It’s an unholy union for unholy monsters and their masters.”

I glared at him, putting my hands on my hips. “You could at least look at me, Angel Dust.”

“Ah fear to meet yer eyes,” he said, and the honesty in his voice took me aback. “It’s like lookin’ inta some dark abyss. Yer filthy vampire master doesna even have such eyes.”

I understood that, actually. Master was comfortable with his inhumanity. I was still learning, still growing as a Midian, and I probably hit Anderson a little too close to home. He, too, struggled with change. I reflected his own transformation back to him.

“I’m polluted many times over to you, aren’t I?” I asked softly. “It’s one thing to be a demon; you’d give a demon a quick kill. It’s quite another to look at me and see me holding onto my humanity while I grow claws and fangs.”

“An apt summation, vampire lass,” Anderson said, still not looking at me but turning a page. “Yer a child; a child twice.”

I felt awfully sorry for him.

“I’m not, really,” I corrected.

“Ye are,” he stressed. “And, ye’ll forever be one. That vampire father of yours even knows it, but he doesn’t care because he wants his own, unholy union with you. In his day, children were brides and grooms.” Anderson’s left hand clenched upon Master’s table. “I dinnae know who ta hate more; you or him.”

I put my hand up to feel the very faint scar left over from one of his blessed bayonets. I had these little silvery marks all over my body, from him going skewer-happy the night we met, but the one on my neck held particular significance to me; it was separated from Master’s original bite by only a few scant inches. I’d been marked by the holy and the unholy, the sanctified and the demonic.

“You don’t have to hate us at all,” I told him, turning away. “We don’t hate you.” I didn’t have time to baby him during his moralistic breakdown. My best friend was getting married in a few hours.

I walked up to Walter’s chambers and stood outside the door a moment, listening to the ruckus.

“Newly youthened or not, I’m too old for her!” Walter shouted. “My god, Alucard, I’m seventy!”

“And I’m centuries old,” Master said calmly. “Still, I took a teenager.”

“You’re a bloody vampire; human standards mean nothing to you.”

Walter broke off into a string of curses that hadn’t been on my instructional list, curses that made my face flame even while I struggled not to laugh.

“If you don’t stand still so I can tie this cravat,” Master growled, “I’ll chain you to something.”

“You just try it.” Walter’s voice held nothing but effrontery and daring. “I’ll cut you to pieces, vampire!”

I put my hand over my mouth as the sounds of a struggle broke out. Master?!

It’s fine, Master’s mental voice said. He’s just having a moment. Go and check on Integra. I’ll bet you anything she’s doing the same thing.

Reluctantly, I walked on down the hallway toward Sir Integra’s rooms. I hadn’t even breeched the connecting foyer before I heard her voice lifted in panic and anger.

“It’s a double-damned strangle-trap of a thing, and I’m not wearing it!”

“Sir Integra, it’s a wedding train,” a feminine voice soothed. “Look, it flows from your veil. The skirt gathers here at the waist, and then-.”

“I’m not bloody wearing it!”

I gasped at the sound of ripping fabric. A herd of house staff spilled from Integra’s rooms and skittered down the hall. It was like watching marbles bounce in a rat maze. They stumbled into each other and into walls before evaporating like morning mist.

Rather intimidated, I knocked on Integra’s door. “Sir?”

“Seras?” Integra yanked the barrier open and stood back to admit me.

She looked gorgeous in white, positively ethereal. I saw where she’d mussed her long hair in removing the veil, which she trod upon contemptuously as she retreated to her mirror. “All this expense and frippery for a gown I’ll wear one time and never clap eyes on again,” she muttered.

Cautiously, I reached out and smoothed wrinkles from the skirt of her dress, making the lace lie right and feeling the tiny freshwater pearls sewn into the satin. “It’s so beautiful, though,” I said, feeling a little envious. I’d never wear anything like this.

“It’s conventional,” Integra growled, lighting a cigar. “God knows we at Hellsing must obey convention.”

I looked at her, radiant in her beauty, the overcast sun making her glow. Her hands were shaking and that big brown cigar threw out clouds of smoke. She seemed slightly better off than Walter, but she wasn’t having an age crisis.

“Walter’s having a fit,” I told her, thinking it would take her mind off her own part in the panic. “I heard him starting a fracas with Master over being too old for you.”

Slowly, Integra smiled. That smile became a grin. Gracefully, she tapped ash into a discarded drinking glass. “Still? I thought he’d gotten over that.”

“Master considers it an unimportant display of jitters.” I picked up Integra’s hairbrush and moved to straighten out the mess she’d made. I loved the way her hair felt. Nothing but smoothness and silk. “But, I really just think Walter doesn’t believe he’s good enough for you.”

“Nonsense.” Integra snorted. “The man is exceptional in every way or I wouldn’t deign to marry him.”

I grinned at hearing such a carefully worded bit of praise. “He’s really handsome now, isn’t he?” I asked leadingly, catching her eyes in the mirror. “I mean, he was always attractive, but now…”

“Now he’s got the outside to match his inside,” Integra finished.

“Right.” I put a little braid down the center of her hair and plucked a daisy from the vase at her elbow. Carefully, I began to weave the flowers into the braid. I’d make her a proper circlet out of her own hair. She didn’t need a stuffy veil.

I worked several long minutes, Integra patiently watching and smoking. When I finished getting the whole braid full of daisies, I brought it up and around, circling her brow. A pin from my own, helmet hair secured it nicely. “There,” I announced. “That’s prettier than gauze, isn’t it?”

Integra nodded. “It’s lovely,” she said with simple honesty. “I can bear it easily.”

“Good.” I sat down on her vanity table and grinned at her. “You look beautiful, Sir Integra. Walter’s going to vapor-lock when he sees you.” And it was true. Integra didn’t need makeup or things like that to be a gorgeous woman.

She stubbed out her cigar and smiled a little. “I have forty minutes to make a getaway, should I choose it.”

“You won’t,” I said.

“I know.” Integra put a dab of clear gloss on her lips. “I love Walter.”

My heart did a skip-beat-thump at hearing her admit that. “Yeah,” I agreed. “You were lucky to find your love in your own home, weren’t you?”

“Fortunate beyond measure.” Integra spread her hands and looked at them. Someone had done her nails in the palest pink. Through they weren’t quite long enough to be femininely elegant, they looked good. “Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t deserve him.”

“Oh, bullshit,” I said, making her startle. “You’re a great match. The stars say so.” I’d glanced at horoscopes every now and then since Walter’s revelation.

“The stars?” Integra chuckled. “What do the stars say, exactly?”

“Ares and Leo are a good union, if their big egos can get over themselves.” I grinned to let her know I was teasing. “Leos need a lot of attention, so be sure you let Walter know you really think he’s awesome.”

“Praising someone once should be enough,” she replied, feigning indifference. Her eyes slid to mine, though. “Do you really think he needs praise?”

“He loves it when I tell him he’s awesome. From you it’ll be much nicer, I’m sure.”

“Hm.” Integra walked to her window and looked out. “How can you tell he loves praise?”

“He blushes and tries to pass off his accomplishments as nothing.” I gave her a pointed look. “But, you do the same thing.”

“I do?”

“Too early for those words,” I teased, pretending to check a watch.

“Seras…”

“Yeah, you do.” I dropped my smile and met those beautiful, pale blue eyes. “You’re a strong, fierce, smart, capable and brave person, and you would like it if someone told you that. But, you’re too proud to beg. I admire you a lot.”

“Seras…” Integra turned her face away, and I saw the blood rushing to her face. She got out another cigar and quickly lit it.

“It’s the truth. Master and I adore you. We’d do anything for you, Sir. And, so would Walter.” I hopped down from her vanity, giving her a peck on the cheek on my way down. “I’ll meet you in the inner foyer for the ceremony. Right now, I have to go make certain Master and Walter are behaving.”

I left before she could call me on anything I said, darting back down the hall.

Trade places with me, Master, I said as I approached Walter’s door once more. You might be Walter’s best man, but I’m his best friend. And, Integra needs a pep talk. Be nice.

Sotia Mea, I don’t know how to be nice. Alucard opened the door and gazed at me. His eyes went up and down my dress, my face and hair. I think I could learn to be nice to you, however.

I blushed. “I want to talk to Walter,” I said firmly.

“Let her in,” Walter said.

I entered, and Alucard oozed out to visit with his master.

“Hey, Walt,” I said, openly admiring the figure he cut. And, he did look fine. The tux fit him perfectly. His violet eyes looked great with all that darkness around them. He wore his hair down for a change, and no gloves. But, he had a ring on every finger, except the finger his wedding ring would rest. “You look awesome.”

“I do?” Walter looked in the mirror.

I resisted using the same gag on him that I’d used on his soon-to-be wife. “You sure do,” I said. “You’re so hot you burn the ground.”

Walter’s face turned bright red. “Seras, the things you say,” he protested, but I saw him straighten a little bit, gaining a little more confidence.

“Oh, come on,” I said smoothing his hair with the flat of my hand. “You’re the bomb and you know it.”

Walter grinned a little. His eyes met mine, sly and pleased. “Hell yes, I am,” he agreed.

I laughed, and so did he. He looked much more relaxed now. His shoulders lost that tight effect, and his eyes sparkled instead of brooded.

“Those royal witnesses and the Knights are going to shit themselves when they see you,” I proclaimed. “Only Hellsing staff knows you’re so dead sexy and young. They’ll swallow their tongues, I tell you!”

Walter’s little chuckle held iniquitous pleasure. “I did consider that,” he confessed. He held up his hands. “Alucard said not to wear my gloves. I couldn’t bear to be unarmed, so I wore the spool rings. What do you think?”

“I think your wife-to-be is probably packing heat herself, underneath that gorgeous gown.” I grinned as lecherously as I could. “You’ll have to tell me later, but I think she’ll probably have that silver .45 in her garter.”

Walter closed his eyes and shivered. “Seras, you shouldn’t get me all worked up.”

“This is the very time to get worked up!” I leaned up, and Walter automatically leaned down. I kissed his cheek. Before he could straighten again, I whispered in his ear. “You’ll be just as good of a husband and father as you ever were a warrior and steward. The stars are in your favor, Walt.”

I left him before he could reply, preferring to stick to my hit-and-run approach to pep talks. I met Master coming out of Integra’s room, looking smug. He had a handprint on his left cheek. “Master! A pep talk doesn’t involve getting slapped!”

“Maybe for ordinary people, but my master is not ordinary.” Alucard offered me his elbow. “Come along, Seras. It’s time for us to take our positions.”