Quick Author's Note:

Good day (or night or morning) to you, reader! This has been my pet project for a while to prove to myself that I could create a well paced novel-length manuscript. As such, this was originally not meant for others. And yet, why write a pretend novel to test my skill if no one was to read it? Thus, Tied was born. Please keep in mind that I have tweaked some minor details and am aware that I have. Some events or descriptions may not accurately align with the manga or anime.

Also, I have this as mature for some pretty good reasons. There's violence, language, and sexual relations. You, good reader, have been warned.

Please enjoy your read. Lay back with a cup of warm tea or coffee. Cuddle into some fluffy blankets. Do what you need to be in your zone, and I'll see you on the flip side.

Tied

Part One: Encountered

A girl clothed in white descended upon her prey, lethal teeth sharpened to sinister points and on clear display. Her hands were positioned as if they were more weapon than appendage. Hair, sleek and lustrous in a deep shade of black. If Lorelei had not been pressed soundly against a solid wall, arms blocking her face in a feeble attempt for safety, she would have accounted for the girl's blood red eyes peeking from a snowy fairy face. It was here, at the imminent moment of greeting masked death, that Lorelei briefly recalled the events that led her to this point. A point that would surely end with her delicate throat ripped out.

Lorelei was thirteen years old. She stole away on her father's aircraft and holed into a crate of blankets and rations. Though the girl always complained of her dainty figure, she grudgingly acknowledged the usefulness of a diminutive size. Her intentions were to aid in the battle in whatever manner in which she could lend her skills. Mother told her to quit her foolishness. That Lorelei should instead board a charter train to the wild countryside of Britain to cower with her relatives and wait.

Lorelei could not abide being a coward.

Taking advantage of her mother and father's tears cast upon her soldier father's departure, she escaped her family home near London, snuggling into the back of the army vehicle her father used to carpool with his fellow soldiers. She was almost caught when sneaking onto the aircraft. The fabric of her bloomers, dress wear her mother severely disapproved of, caught on a sharpened edge of seating. The fabric tore loudly. There was enough time to huddle into the crate before soldiers came to investigate and regard the incident as a run in with rodents.

But Lorelei eventually was found. She failed to realize that a soldier may become peckish and need only pry the crate open to find it already ajar. And there, there was a girl inside!

Father was not pleased to find his only child stowed away like a common criminal upon his aircraft. They were of thick, old money blood, and Lorelei's actions were askew from how a young lady should act. When Lorelei relayed how she only desired to help, he shook her shoulders, exclaiming all the usual nonsense adults exclaimed when they were upset about nothing. She was a girl. She was delicate. A battlefield only meant death for fragile children. Her lip trembled, but she would not cry. Lorelei was going to help whether her father agreed or not. He sighed, rubbing his face with his large hand as if to clear the new wrinkles lining his light green eyes.

The crew and Lorelei landed, taking up base in a sector of enemy territory. The soldiers convened to the living room of a recently abandoned dwelling. Whoever the previous tenant was, they weren't short on income. They left behind food, clothing, and a good supply of firewood for the fireplace. Lorelei had been instructed to stay put in this ghostly abode while her father and his soldier friends went to kill the enemy to save her country. She also wanted to kill the enemy to save her country, but father clocked her upon the cheek. He told her that she would do as he said and stay. With his scruffy black beard, small eyes, and fine bone structure, he was truly menacing, but only to other people. Lorelei knew that he was as soft as a teddy bear. So she lied and waited until the crunching of the soldier's shoes vanished into the whistles of battle.

The girl hurriedly located the kitchen, rummaging through multiple drawers until she found a wickedly sharp 4-inch knife. She already wore a belt she nicked from her father's wardrobe wound tight around her waist. The girl slid her new knife snug into the slip of the belt. One last thing. Just one more item until she could partake in aiding her country. She glided up to what she assumed was the master bedroom due to its immense square footage, and tapped at the floorboards until she heard a hollow "clunk." There was a loose board just as she hoped. Her mother and father's bedroom had the exact same defect at home. Perfect for a hidden compartment, and perfect for dispensing with weapons. Lucking out, Lorelei pulled from the master bedroom and tiny silver revolver. She flicked the chamber open and found that it was full. That was where that string of luck fizzled out. There was no more ammunition other than what was already present in the pistol, a weapon that the owner probably considered useless in a battle such as this.

Shrugging, Lorelei tiptoed out of the house. Cool, smoke choked air clogged her throat when she emerged. There were distant echoes of men's screams. Terrified. Horror struck. If Lorelei focused, she might have heard her own father's mutilated howl. She stood still, biting her lip. Tasting the moment. She had to help. Had to. Had to. The screams halted, and now. Now a girl in white, a girl Lorelei did not notice until that very second, was going to attack her.

I will not die a coward. I mustn't.

Lorelei's brow furrowed. Her befreckled nose scrunched in her grimace of anger as she uncovered her face. She whipped the pistol up and shot at the woman who promptly fell in a heap five feat away from the thirteen-year-old. There was no time for relief. To Lorelei's astonishment, the girl bolted upright like she took bullets to the chest on a regular basis. She chuckled maniacally, her gleaming red eyes flashing gleefully. Blood seeped from her bullet wound directly where her heart would have been if she were human. Lorelei swiftly concluded that the black haired beauty certainly was not human at all. The girl made to lunge again, prompting Lorelei to aim her gun once more. What else could she do? Before the madwoman had a chance to take another step, a cut magically appeared across her pretty face. The coppery sent of blood coated the atmosphere as the long line oozed down to her pale collarbone. The girl only grinned wider and adjusted her puffy white hat.

"That is enough, Alucard!"

Lorelei dared to glance over to her right. A boy, perhaps a few years older than herself, leaned on the very wall she pressed against. The blue moon's light parted the night's murky gloom from his features revealing his twisted grin. He held his long fingers out as if he possessed a globe, and if Lorelei squinted closely, she could just barely make out lines streaming from his fingertips. The boy wore elegant clothing, perhaps closely related to a butler's code of dress, mixed with shades of deep purple and ebony. His limbs were spindly as he there was no time to properly grow into them or the wide lipped mouth. Lorelei faintly thought of how vain this boy might be to match his outfit with his mussed black hair and glimmering, narrow violet eyes. He was now looking at her, and that intense gaze alone was enough to make her shudder. Who was this child who could command that beastly woman?

"Good evening, poppet. So sorry to intrude, but my idiot partner," he shrugged his shoulder at the white clad figure with folded arms, "and I were just passing through. You see, he's a bit too eager for his dinner."

"H-he?" Lorelei managed to ask.

"Right." The boy rolled his big, thick lashed eyes. "Alucard insists on this petty form. I'm sure its how he get his kicks. To kill grown men dressed in a girl's body..." Then, as if the boy realized who he was speaking with, "Offense intended." He giggled cruelly.

"What?" Lorelei frowned. Who did this boy think he was. She was Lorelei Richford. She had practiced archery, and in secret, how to shoot a gun, for years all for this moment. All to help fight. Did he think that because she was small and cute that he could bully her?

"Don't hurt the little girl's feelings, Walter. She's a spitfire, that one."

"Says the one who was going to eat her a mere second ago." The boy turned to speak with the jeering girl, who for some reason, spoke with a thunderous masculine baritone.

That was when Lorelei strode over and punched Walter. On the face. With the pistol still in her hand.

"Gah!" The boy, to his credit, barely startled. The wires, that was what Lorelei assumed they were, didn't even slacken. He only shut his eyes, rolling his tongue around the inside of his cheek, and swallowed. In a flash, the boy whipped his lithe body around, caging Lorelei against the wall. She refused to yelp. That blow had every pent up emotion strung into it. All her anger. All her hate. All of her fear. For the boy to take it like rocks to rubber made her insides scream.

"Now what did you have to do that for, hmm?"

The boy's face was close. Their foreheads almost touched, and she could smell his breath laced with liquor and cigarette smoke. He smirked at her, the heat radiating off of his body clashing with her own. She hated him. Hated him with all the will of her thirteen-year-old spirit. She had meant to aid her father. Meant to rescue Britain from the Nazi party. Not just Britain, but the world. She was strong, but she knew she must be stronger. All of her friends and family told her that she was weak because she was a girl both in the mind and body. When she excelled in her studies far above what any boy could achieve, she strove to strengthen herself physically. She worked for this very day tirelessly, and for some wiry wimp of a boy to so easily throw her life's work back at her like some used toy drove her mad.

"I am strong. I can beat you," Lorelei growled.

"I could smash your brains on the flagstones if I so chose without even touching your skin. I could slice you to slivers with only a twitch of my pinky finger. I could be your Angel of Death if I so desired." The boy lifted a lock of Lorelei's long, strawberry blonde hair to his lips, kissing the ends. She gnashed her teeth. "But I'm after larger quarry than a whelp like you. Quarry that you haven't a dream of even cutting with your kitchen knife there." Lorelei, if possible, frowned even more. She thought her knife was hidden.

"The Nazi's? You're after them, right?" She didn't know what to do if this boy was the enemy and she was already pinned like a moth to a board by him.

"Ah, we're not here for the small fry. We are on the hunt for Nazi vampires."

"Then let me help. My father and his soldiers just went north. I'm a decent shot." Vampires? She had seen that Alucard woman be shot and rise again. If the Nazi's had the ability to similarly avoid death, then she wanted to stop them even more.

"Not a chance, poppet. From the scent wafting from up there, that squadron is dead. Probably undead. You've no chance with them. Just stay here like a good little—" Lorelei crushed against the boy's forehead with her own. This time, he did stumble back, letting Lorelei breath her own air at last, albeit with a stinging headache.

"Oh Walter, do you need help? Seems like you have your hands full," taunted the girl in white. She was propped up against a tree, acting amused.

"Shut up," growled the boy. He rubbed his injured head. "What's your name, girl?"

"Like I'd tell you!" She had her gun up again. "I am going whether you let me or not. Get out of my way, and I won't shoot the both of you."

"Not now, soldier girl. Grow up a bit, and then you can write a novel or something to get your thrills." He put his hand down. "Your dead father with thank me for this." The boy, Walter, whooped. Before she could react, Lorelei felt Walter's long fingers on her neck. She straightened, and then slumped. He must have hit a nerve to make her pass out. Stubbornly, she held on to consciousness until the boy clicked his tongue and squeezed the spot one more time.

"Good night, poppet."

Blackness consumed her.

For the next sixteen years, that boy's violet eyes would be the reason she rose in the morning and huddled into sleep at night. Most would often assume that Lorelei was struck down with a specific sickness. Love sickness. Her eyes would become glassy, and a delicate smirk would crease her lips. But they were all entirely incorrect. In her mind, Lorelei would daydream all the ways she would hurt the boy named Walter and his friend called Alucard. She would surpass their taunts. Surpass that moment of weakness when Walter's face was so close to hers, for the tiniest of moments, she felt something other than anger. She would crush that, too, just like Walter took from her the opportunity to fight side to side with her father no matter if he truly did die before she set foot out of that abandoned house. For the next sixteen years, she devoted herself to becoming a vampire hunter. The strongest one alive aside from two others.

…

"Mama, I do not want to get married."

"Nonsense, dear. You are thirty-years-old. The last of the Richford bloodline. I don't care if you're out doing God knows what at night as long as you're going out doing God knows what while you're wed. I need grandchildren, woman. Grandchildren."

"Mama, I have no interest in children, nor do I care for this match."

"You've said that for sixteen years. Don't you think that excuse is getting to be a little old?"

"I'll only break off any engagement proposals like all the other times if you force me into this. Honestly, I'm amazed you haven't disowned me from the amount of times I've done so."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're my only child. And as you are my only child, it is my duty to see you married and secured before I die. You don't want your poor Mum to come back as a ghost and haunt you until your dying days telling you how much you've disappointed her, do you?" Lorelei shuddered. Seeing as she made a living of disposing of vampire drivel, her mother becoming a ghost was not outside the realm of possibility.

"Fine. I'll humor you. I'll see about this proposal Arthur Hellsing has for me, but do not keep your hopes up. I'm a very negative woman, Mama."

"Oye, tell me about it." Mother had a fake tone of exhaustion, but her matronly face framed by straight gray hair beamed with genuine joy. Mother's hazel eyes actually shone. Lorelei loved her mother when she smiled the most, and couldn't resist hugging her.

It wouldn't hurt to see what Hellsing had to say, though she couldn't see why a man from such a wealthy background would find any interest in her. When her father died during the war, her mother had to sell the library and finance company her father owned to keep them fed. They even had to leave their home near London, relocating to the country.

Of course, Mother's family helped and the Richford women wanted for nothing, but still, her lot for marriage wasn't the best for even the lowest county judge to take an interest. Not that there weren't any offers… What no one knew was the nest egg Lorelei squirreled away for her mother and herself from the bounty laid upon the heads of the undead and the occasional supernatural occurrence thanks to her membership at Defang. Maybe this Hellsing had someone from her bank relay the funds of said nest egg, and if so, Lorelei would find the snitch and teach him a right good lesson in proper banking. But the mystery was still tantalizingly hovering around her head, and that mystery was what ultimately made her decision to meet Arthur Hellsing (not her mother's ghostly threat.)

Lorelei drove to the Hellsing estate, one hand on the wheel while the other lazily propped her head. There was that night again. The girl, Alucard and the boy, Walter. The violet eyes floating in the darkened sky as his fingers touched her bare flesh, and she fell into an abyss only to awaken on a bed. That was where reinforcements found her. The injured recruits smuggled her back home where she was hit with a combination of angry punishment from her mother and then she was told that her tough and kind father had perished. He was dead. Dead. The grip on her steering wheel tightened, her already pale hand becoming as white as marble.

She made it to the gates of the Hellsing manor three hours later. She rung a buzzer, and the massive structures shuddered open, closing behind her vehicle almost immediately after she passed through. Down the pathway, straight to the carport. Lorelei clicked her tongue. The place was massive, and the guy was obviously full to the brim with money. Did he get funded by the Queen or something? No matter. She exited her sleek black ford and made towards the front door of the manor.

She had known someone was behind her the moment she left her car. The was a faint buzz of human body heat radiating through the current wafting against her bare arms. It was only a matter of when the human wanted to show himself, which was apparently right now.

"Aha! Hello! You must be the charming Lorelei!"

"Yes, that would be me." She turned and was faced with a broad shouldered man. There was a cigar stuck in his mouth like it was a permanent fixture, along with an inane grin. His blond curls had been attempted to be tamed with what could only be massive amounts of hair gel, but multiple locks had escaped their prison, enjoying their freedom in the crisp, morning breeze. He was shaped with the features of a hawk, sleek but wild.

"Ah, good."

"You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I do not know yours." She had a feeling, but she wanted to know from the man himself.

"How rude of me! I am Sir Arthur Hellsing. At your service, my lady." He did a little bow.

"Hmn, should I say I am at yours?"

"I like you already, Miss Richford. I see we shouldn't waste any time with you. I've heard many a tale of your famous shoot downs. I had a friend a while back that serenaded you with his own compositions and—"

"I dumped a trash can on his face? All rumors, I swear, Sir Arthur." The cad had it coming.

"How about we do away with the Sirs? And I'll call you by your given name?" He beamed.

"Deal."

"Then I shall escort you inside." Arthur looped her arm around his. It was large and warm. She found she liked it, but only a little. They trekked a path lined with rose bushes leading up to the main archway cradling a door. Arthur fiddled with the lock and soon they were inside the strangely militaristic threshold. What a stark contrast to the outside, Lorelei mused. She was led over to what could only be the man's office framed with oversized windows. The nighttime view must be glorious in here. She was offered a plush, red cushioned seat where she would have been swallowed whole if she allowed the chair the chance. Arthur took his place behind an enormous ebony work desk and folded his fingers together, peering over them intently. Lorelei met his challenge by gently glaring back. She knew her turquoise eyes could unnerve others and was impressed to see Arthur grinning rather than flinching.

"Now, you are here under the pretense that I plan to make you my wife."

Lorelei's pleasure evaporated. Now she was on her toes. Her hand ached to finger her black overcoat.

"A piece of quick advice, learn to get a poker face." Arthur grinned like a loon. Look who was talking. "And don't worry, I know how that sounded. I'm not threatening you, I'm proposing to you."

"So you really do want to marry me?" Lorelei ventured cautiously.

"To be honest, no. I am comfortable with my whores who can produce children anytime I want to."

Lorelei frowned.

"But a marriage would settle certain people down. Calm the waters, if you will. Lorelei, I am not a man who will grow roots with just one woman nor do I plan on ever being that type of moron. I see that through your rejections of some poor, love sick fools, you are a woman who wouldn't be satisfied with just any man. You also need those waters smoothed, isn't that right? Get rid of the pesky 'I need grandchildren' line from your Mum, hmn?"

"Did you have me trailed?"

"You really should study that poker face."

"To hell with the poker face, just get to what you want or I'm leaving this instant."

"I like you, Lorelei. I like you a lot. So here is my offer. We marry in contract only. I have my whores and you have whatever suits your interests outside of my manor. A whore has a child, and that's both of our heir problem solved. You have a child, there, solved again."

"Ridiculous," she scoffed, folding her arms indignantly. Although she never truly planned on settling down with anyone, Lorelei still thought of marriage as something shared between the two bound in matrimony only. No body else. The deal would have worked, but something niggled at her to refuse. What Arthur was proposing was a waste of breath. "I'm leaving." She made to get up when Arthur shook his thick finger.

"To sweeten the deal!"

His volume was way too sharp to ignore, and so Lorelei plopped back down in her chair.

"I just so happen to share an interest in your…hobbies."

"Embroidery and knitting socks?"

"God, I really do like you. But, no. Not that. I know of your excursions with the undead. Vampires." Lorelei's intake of breath was enough of a confirmation. Perhaps she would work out that poker face after all. "Yes, yes, I am well aware of the supernatural and its ability to bleed into the real world. I understand that you work with limited funding to eradicate the fiends, despite how little you earn in reward. Vampire hunting can drain anyone's personal savings, Miss Richford. You see, Queen Elizabeth herself has been my patron since World War 11 for that very purpose. Think of what more you can do with that kind of money propping you up. Think of the glory. Accept my offer because I'm sure no one else can provide this sort of opportunity for you again. It's either now or never, Lorelei, because despite my laid back nature, I am truly quite impatient." He leaned back in his chair, tapping his pocket watch.

Yes. She was already imagining how she would become stronger (also, she had called it with knowing he was funded by the Queen!). The quest to be on top. To let no man or woman belittle her. Perhaps she was greedy. She knew that was one of her personal flaws, but Arthur was right. The way she fought, the way she became strong, required money. And lots of it. Unfortunately, money equals power. Sir Arthur Hellsing was the one who dangled the temptation right above her grasp, but would she snatch it? Was marriage with a man who told her he would not love her or even stay faithful to her worth all the power, all the deaths of the vampire scourges in the world? Did her resolve break so easily with a monetary incentive, or was she stronger already for attempting to throw away love to rise up and shred all who dare oppose her? Lorelei grinned. She would have laughed if she could have.

"Fine, Sir Arthur Hellsing, I accept your offer."

"Excellent." His golden eyes blazed with triumph. "Then, please do come here." He laid out some papers she duly read and reread, then signed. They shook hands, Arthur's face wild with pleasure and Lorelei already planning how to upgrade her equipment with his money. "Hold out your hand," Arthur prompted. Lorelei held out her hand, and with a sturdy, strong movement, Arthur slipped a silver ring bedecked with a glowing red ruby on her ring finger. He splayed his left hand out to show a matching male version on his own ring finger.

Bastard knew I was going to say yes, didn't he. Well played, Arthur. Well played. And I'm sure Mama will be pleased. She'll leave me alone, and I can finally be by myself to protect my country. To become even stronger.

"Good, good. Well now, you must be famished, my dear fiancée." He said this as if they were playing pretend, but the weight on her finger felt all too real. "Let me call for my butler. He'll bring in some nice, warm tea for this cold day." He pressed a button on his desk. " I shall also introduce you to some of my cohorts later. Of course, as my fiancée, you'll be moved in right away."

She nodded, figuring as much.

"Will you tell me how you got into the supernatural fight?' Lorelei asked.

"As long as you share your story. I'm quite fascinated how a comely young thing like you got into an underground movement like Defang."

"Surely." The fact that this man was already aware of her membership to Defang should have unnerved her, but she figured that he did his research appropriately and mentally shrugged.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

"Sir, I've brought a pot of Earl Grey tea as instructed."

"Fine, fine. Do come in," called Arthur. He was still highly focused on Lorelei, who in turn was beginning to relay to him the story of when she was fourteen and found a dealer in specialized bullets filled with holy water at a tavern. The sound of a cart being pushed approached, and then the release of hot liquid into china cups. Lorelei continued.

"I crept out of the house around three in the morning. I was actually trying to find a new revolver since my last one broke when dealing with a particularly uppity vampire. I ran out of rounds so many times back then." A black gloved hand gingerly placed a trojan white cup of steaming tea in front of Arthur. "But I ran right into a member of Defang in a tavern because I aided him in disposing of a werewolf. Once we became familiar with each other, he told me the best way to kill a vampire with a gun was by piercing his heart with holy water, and a werewolf with silver bullets. Either that or decapitating them. That's why I have a sword that…" The gloved hand had settled a cup meant for her on the work desk. She followed the owner of the hand up the arm and to the face to thank him for the delicious smelling tea.

Time smacked her in the face.

She knew Arthur would berate her for how far her face was from poker.

The butler. The butler was no other than Walter, the boy from her childhood.