Passions of Master and Servant

The Passions of Master and Servant

Yeah, hi. I'm back again, posting up a story chapter by chapter that is kind of a mash up of several ideas I've had sitting around in my head just biding their time. If you've never read any of my other stories, please do- you'll have something to enjoy while this one is constructed. If you remember me, then I promise you that this one will probably surpass my earlier work... my writing has improved since my last update. ;D



I understand now. I finally understand him, and what we are. Blood is the coin of the soul. It leaves traces, memories. The world is soaked with it, just fucking saturated. The streets I prowl, late at night, have seen countless deaths. It wasn’t just thirty years ago, during the last battle with Millennium. Oh, God no. It’s been as long as this country has thrived. The conquest by the Romans, Boadicea burning the city, the plague, the blaze of 1666, the murders, the riots, terrorism, war. Death has been a part of this world, and we are no strangers to blood. But why, my Master, did you disappear just as I was able to understand your cryptic manner and all of your desires? ...Still, I can’t help but feel it in my blood that you will return to me, to our Master. She’s losing patience. She doesn’t believe you’ll return. But I can still feel our bond, my Master. My Alucard. My... Dracul.

Seras threw her pen down and glanced over her diary entry. She’d been keeping the little book, randomly, for the last 30 years. Every so often the urge struck her to vent her thoughts on paper. As one of the last relics of Alucard’s existence, Seras was tormented by his loss. As often as her mind flew to him, her fingers flew to the scars on her neck. His two perfect fangs were forever branded into her pale skin. She caressed them frequently, pining devoutly for the man who’d created her. Life, or unlife, had been peaceful and to a point, successful. After the bloodbath in London, Seras and Integra had returned to the ruins of the Hellsing manor and started again from the ground up. Many precious articles from history had been trashed or burned, but Integra remained an ever-present torch of stubbornness. It took a long time for both their organization and the city to recover from the damage and the irreplaceable loss of life, but both somehow emerged. As London grieved for her children, Hellsing had grieved for their fallen comrades. Funeral services for Walter and all of the dead Geese had taken place.

At Walter’s service, there was not a dry eye. Integra wept with grace, but she could not be consoled for days at the loss of so gallant and fatherly a man. Seras’ cheeks were streaked with red as she remembered Walter’s kindness and craftiness. Their exploits during the Valentine incident had strengthened her fondness of the butler. Sometimes, she had even felt that Walter was the most appreciative of Seras, and often the most understanding of her buoyant nature. In stark contrast, Seras had found it difficult to feel sad at all at the funeral of Captain Bernadotte. Pip’s cocky laugh sounded in her head as he watched from within her eyes his own body interred in the earth. She could not help but smile as she saluted. The few remaining Geese saluted with smiles, for they all knew where the real zest of the Frenchman’s life lived on. The other dead mercenaries were received by the good earth with solemnity. None of the noble were forgotten.

Hellsing resumed its duties, but without Millennium, the vampire attacks dwindled considerably. Each case was a genuine threat, but Seras was able to hold her own, no longer frail or out of control of herself. She had risen to become as powerful and effective as her sire, yet she was much less flamboyant in her style. She dealt with threats cleanly and quickly. As the years had passed, she remained a dedicated servant to Sir Integra, and the two women formed a tight friendship. Seras remained unbound by blood and magic to Integra, but she remained loyal because of her respect for the formidable Hellsing. Integra missed her former servant, but unlike Seras, she believed that Alucard wasn’t going to return. Seras’ reassurances never seemed to convince her. Thus, the only outlet the blonde waif had to pour her overwhelming feelings into was the small leather-bound diary. It neatly catalogued thirty years’ worth of missions, longings, discoveries, knowledge and changes. No other eyes had ever read her more intimate thoughts. That evening, as she was restless and the manor silent, Seras was perusing her old notes and entries. A sudden and intense bout of heartache was upon her as she read countless old ramblings.

I dreamt of Master again... always the same dream where he turns all that insanity upon me. I wake up wet every time. I wonder if he’s as gorgeous as my head makes him out to be. God, is it wrong to want him so badly still? I ache, as if I know he’s only going to be gone for a little while longer...

...Today’s mission went smoothly. There’s been so ruddy few incidents lately, I’m growing bored. Without Millennium, England is practically unthreatened. Nothing even challenges me. Without him, it’s like there’s nothing worth challenging. That idiot fat arse Major said it himself, all those years ago. His one true enemy wasn’t the world, England, or us.. No, it was Alucard. Just him. Eternal enemies...

Countless passages continued in that vein, simply detailing her missions as the new “trashman” of Hellsing, and Integra’s personal bodyguard. Still, so many others were focused upon her departed Master. Her reverence, desperation and longing for him to return. Reflecting on their missions together, Seras shivered. She had always dutifully followed him through hell and pools of blood. But was that because he was master to her servant? Or was it because he drew her in his path? There had been times she’d disagreed with him and his nature, but in the end, he’d always enticed deep reactions within her, whether good ones or bad. Alucard had made her feel alive, ironically. Before meeting him, Seras Victoria had existed in her role as a police officer, serving her country and attempting to outrun her personal demons. But the bud had produced a blossom that captured dew and shone magnificently in the sun. Seras was only now alive, living for the sake of experience and sensation. But without Alucard, the sensations and experiences were only half so sweet. All she could do was wait and keep her candle lit.

It had been at least a month since the last episode involving a vampire extermination. Seras prowled the manor’s corridors, straining her ears to catch the whispers of the dead. She lingered in the spot where Pip had come to her rescue as she was despondent and bleeding. He chortled, his rich accented voice a comforting presence for her.

“Don’t worry, Zeras girl,” he cooed. “Zose bloody Iscariots are zniffing around again. No telling what zere planning.“ Seras thought about the Frenchman’s comment and felt herself grow a little excited. Anderson may be dead, but Heinkel and Iscariot were both still alive, both still bearing grudges against Hellsing. Iscariot the zealot would move against them again, sometime. Seras lingered one more moment in the spot that she had received a daring kiss from Pip, where he had died filling her with courage, where she had taken his blood. Then her heeled boots continued clicking with rhythm down the hallway. Pip had since been joined inside of her consciousness by the remaining Geese, those who had dutifully served Hellsing after the blitz. The mercenaries, bereaved of their Captain in body, had chosen to stay with Integra and Seras out of extreme respect. They had all been heroes, and at the end of their lives, she had offered each remaining man the chance to become part of her and reunite with the man they’d followed so dutifully. Most of them had agreed, but one or two had chosen to join their families in death. She respected them all and each of them had a hero’s death. Thirty years after the utter destruction of London and Hellsing, not one of the Wild Geese lived, but some of them were preserved in Seras’ blood.

The night was still young, and Seras’ mind was full of want. Memories of Alucard had drudged up the need to connect to him in the only way she could. Her body went ethereal and she sank through the stone and wood to the lower dungeons. This was the only part of the manor largely unaffected by Zorin’s attack, and it was where she had her room, and where Master’s lair lay undisturbed by time. The two women had set up a shrine of sorts there and then locked the room as they departed. This had not prevented Seras from visiting often simply to look with remorse upon the ebony-wood coffin, its mysterious epitaph, and the chunk of salvaged concrete that bore the last mark Alucard had left on the world. His sigil was stamped as if in blood upon the surface of the cube. At Integra’s behest the section had been removed from the street and taken back to Hellsing as monument of the fallen age. Seras stood at the coffin’s side for a few moments, inspecting the glossy surface for dust. Every so often she saw that the room was cleared of dust and that her Master’s coffin was free of any damage caused by the damp stone or any trespassing insects. She did these things from a sense of necessity. When he returned, he would want his last resting place as he left it. Seras also kept his throne clean, the velvet fresh, and his wineglasses spotless.

To his regally carved, antique Victorian armchair she strode and ran an ungloved hand across the plush surface. The cloth still kept some traces of his exotic scent, even after all that time. She climbed into the wide seat, still marveling at just how tall he had been. Her stocking-clad knees lightly pressed the cushions as she rubbed a cheek across the cool fabric. Her movements rustled the surface enough to release faint traces of the natural perfume that had always clung to his skin. It was some dark mixture of spice, musk, blood and citrus that made her head reel. It inspired warmth within her. Seras had a fleeting vision of his body, elegant and beautiful, underneath her open thighs. The burn that rose up in her hips absolutely demanded satisfaction. Even after thirty years, both she and her mistress were chaste, Integra a virgin yet and Seras untouched by any save Aluacard. Athough, Integra really should have borne an heir and Seras should have indulged her sexuality as well as her blood thirst. An innate need for satisfaction flooded her, and she tore herself away from the heady scent locked into the chair in a vain attempt to quell her desire. In doing so, her eyes locked involuntarily onto the coffin, where she knew his sweetly scented body had daily lain. The oppressing urge to place herself inside seized her with such violence that she was powerless to stop herself from dematerializing straight through the wood.

Within the cool darkness his fragrance and her memories were cloying and insistent. She inhaled him with utter delight, imagining his lithe form pressed into the soft lining in the nearest peace he could ever have. She had seen his sleeping face just once, as he’d dozed in his throne. That face had been perplexed, somewhat annoyed, but it had also been almost childlike in its serenity. Seras had fought with herself just then not to reach and stroke his pallid cheek or run her fingers through his hair. It seemed that every time she was near enough to sense the unnatural “warmth” of his body, she’d fought the urge to touch him and be dissolved into his arms. Lost in her remembrances, unable to contain her pent-up frustrations longer, Seras parted her thighs as much as she was able and reached her hands down underneath her panties. Her gloves abandoned, Seras pressed two fingers into her own already wet slit and simultaneously began to stroke her most sensitive spot with her dominant, shadow-like hand. She shut her brilliant eyes and moaned softly in the absolute dead silence of the sepulcher, picturing his hands upon her, his mouth entangled with hers, his length pressed deeply inside... In moments Seras had let her body go taut as she stroked her own flesh and her mind had taken her into a realm of torturous bliss. She could feel the strains of orgasm already, and she pressed her fingers deeper inside, feeling the spurts of her own juice. Another moment and she wouldn’t be able to stop the body-wracking convulsions she craved to have his help in achieving.

The thought that pushed her over the edge was the imagined feeling of his seed spurting into her eager body. Seras inhaled sharply as the delirious spasms caroused her and she shuddered with pleasure. She quivered, shook and reveled in wanton delight, feeling her inner muscles twitch in release. Her nipples strained against the stiff fabrics covering them and minuscule bumps covered her body. Seras stroked herself lightly now, riding the last marvelous waves as long as she could, until her tender, blood-swollen clit could no longer take the stimulation. Then she relaxed her every muscle and panted for unneeded breath. In the recovery from her climax, Seras realized the scent of her own body had overtaken her Master’s. She hastily exited his coffin, ashamed of her slatternly actions and complete lack of control. To boot, she had left the manor unguarded by indulging her desire. As a punishment to herself she forced herself back on patrol without taking a moment to freshen up. She could deal with the slippery liquid that slowly dripped from her. She hastened at once to the most important door in the manor.

Integra breathed lightly in her sleep. Seras made a pause at the stoic blonde’s door and listened to the gentle cycle for a moment. They had come a long way together since that night of war, and she would always be there for the formidable Amazon. Seras smiled lightly as she stepped away from Integra’s door and continued her patrol. Something then nipped at her intuition, and she decided to retrieve her weapon. No gunsmith could ever replace Walter, so Seras had preserved her Harkonnen and switched to a similar weapon that was more easily maintained and supplied by the weapons expert Integra had hired to fill Walter’s place. All of their weaponry was still high in craftsmanship and power, but nothing could ever be another Jackal or Vladimir. As she armed herself, she heard the rip of gunfire come from Sir Integra’s room, and beat a hasty path back to her mistress’ door. Seras slammed the door open with a bolt-breaking kick and dashed in, armed and ready to kill. The moment she entered Integra’s chamber, a delicious shiver ran through her and her killing instinct dissolved. Slumped against the far wall, haggard, less intense in presence, but still as achingly beautiful as a moon-blooming flower, was her Master. His body slowly recovered from the wounds as Integra stood agape, flabbergasted by his sudden appearance. Seras couldn’t help but to admire the woman’s sharp, ever alert skills and bravery. But still, the word tore from her eager vocal chords as she literally dropped her weapon.

“MASTER!” She cried with utter joy. At long last, he had returned! Weakened, yes, weary and hungry, most certainly, but whole...! Beautiful...! Seras almost dropped to her trembling knees as the blood-tears came. She only vaguely caught their conversation as he explained his triumph at regaining his form, and Integra offered him a few drops of the blood that bound him to her. At that point, Seras was able to stand and approach. The precious gift of blood, given to her once before, long ago, was received, but he needed more. Seras strode to her Master and knelt in front of him, exposing her neck. She literally tore open her collar to show him the marks he had left there so long ago. She would be his fount.

“Master, please... drink from me, take all of it if you need it. I have blood packs in my uniform, if you want.” She pressed her ivory neck so temptingly to his lips. Alucard grinned, rather interested in this woman he’d left behind, no longer a servant, and yet... so dutiful. Without speaking a word, and aching intensely to sate his thirty-year thirst, he willingly sank his fangs into Seras’ soft neck and supped deeply. She could feel him draining her of power, of life, but she cared little. If she need die to rejuvenate him, she’d be damned if she didn’t die with a smile. Alucard forged their mental connection while he fed from her and she reeled in the pleasure his fangs gave her.

Seras... What a beautiful greeting you offer me after my long absence. It seems we have much to catch up... You have served her faithfully all these years, and taken human blood with both discretion and compassion... How marvelous.

My Master... God, I’ve missed you. Take it all if you need it, Master. Drink until you burst. Just never disappear again…

My faithful girl. You’ve waited and believed all these years that I would return. Don’t fear, little Seras. You’ll be rewarded. Seras slipped into a state of dreamy mindlessness, weakening under her master’s life-taking kiss. Her radiant crimson eyes slid lazily shut and she collapsed with a satisfied smile onto Alucard’s shoulder. He finally released her neck and stood up, cradling her in his arms. Integra smiled under her weary eye, holding a handkerchief to her bleeding finger.

“She’s been waiting, Alucard. I’ve been waiting. Whatever happened to your incessant meddling and obnoxious punctuality?” He chortled sensuously.

“My Master, those habits seem to have been punctured by your terribly dry wit. But I believe I disturbed your rest. Allow me to call upon you in the morning- there is much to discuss.” Without even waiting for her response, Alucard flashed his fanged grin and melted through the walls, cradling the form of Seras. Integra watched him go and slipped back into her bed with an indignant sneer. Alucard was up to something, she knew it. It seemed that things at Hellsing would soon be back into a state of normalcy... however normal Hellsing was. Integra smiled somewhat as she relaxed her head back into her pillow and nestled into the still-warm sheets. She was satisfied. It was as if she had just regained a queen in a strained match of chess.

Seras’ eyes fluttered open as she smelled the delicious warm aroma of blood. She realized that her master’s transparently white neck was poised at her lips, much the way she had offered her own to him. She still felt lightheaded from the amount of blood he’d taken, but it was almost like being in a pleasant state of drunkenness. Alucard’s scent and breath made her wonderfully delirious, and she sighed softly as she tilted her head upward. Seras lengthened her fangs and made a neat set of wounds upon his neck. He groaned in appreciative pleasure as she allowed herself a few rich mouthfuls of his most ancient and powerful blood. Then she caressed his wounds with her tongue and allowed them to heal, scar less. Alucard peered down with the hellish depths of his eyes, questioning and scrutinizing her gaze. She could only smile and wrap her arms around his neck. Her grin was so different from what he remembered. Before she had been girlish, almost whimsical. Within her personality he still beheld her youthful mirth, something Seras had never lost no matter what horrors she witnessed. Yet, a maturity had grown inside her. She was no longer unstable nor plagued by doubt or fear. She understood. Alucard read the new depth in her eyes as he read the memories he’d received from her blood. He witnessed her last battles with Millennium, her dutiful protection of Integra, her missions, her daily existence, and numerous other silly or otherwise complacent details. The biggest change in her was the growth of longing and need in her for... him.

“Seras... my absence really affected you, didn’t it?” He pulled her into a sitting position. She realized as her head lifted from the fog that they were sprawled in a bed, some magnificent four-poster created to suit his whim. It excited her to be subject to his embrace. Seras curled her fingers into his silken hair and lightly dragged her nails down his scalp. She felt him shiver and pushed her body tighter, closer. If she could become a part of his never-dying body, there could be no greater unity in her mind. Their lips brushed together, their breath melded. Alucard chortled. “This explains the lascivious encounter you had with my coffin, Seras.” He plied his fangs lightly to her lower lip.

“I couldn’t help myself, Master. Your scent drove me.. I need you.”

"Poor girl... Tortured by the inability to feel herself ravished by her Master. I went through quite something, you know, to get back to you."

"And not even Integra knows or appreciates that more than I." Seras surprised him by pressing her tongue between his lips and enthusiastically grinding herself into him. One hand of his slipped under her ridiculously short uniform and caressed the supple flesh he found there. She had read his struggles in the recesses of his mind, and he had read hers in the taking of her blood. A mental narration began between them... Seras suddenly received the entire story of her rebirth and his complicated feelings for her.