How different they were
How different they were. One dark, one light - one dead, one alive. She, the leader of a vast empire, stretching on from past decades, families, and a magnificent history; he, a humble servant with nothing his own other than the clothes on his back and the guns in his hands, only a scant whisper to his true name or past. Even those, she had given him. But they were oh so alike in all of the same regards.
Calm, cool, collected. Quick thinking, even quicker action. They were separate components, but they belonged to each other. He was her gun, and she pulled the trigger - he was her weapon, she was his wielder. They needed each other, in the end. Or did they?
Integra sat in her cell, hands tied loosely together with nothing but a soft, white cloth. Her Majesty's mercies, she chuckled to herself. Even after abandoning me and my men, the worst she can do is a soft bed and a warm meal. She brought the lit cigar to her lips again, breathing in the sweet scented Indian tobacco. Out of the shadows stepped her ever-obedient servant, draped in red and black.
"A night for a bite, don't you agree?" He laughed in spite of himself, raising white-gloved hands to his lips and wiped away the imaginary sweat. His tongue followed those same lips, erect fangs raking gently across the soft flesh.
"Arucard, don't bother me now." She put the cigar to her lips, simply a comforting touch than anything else. Her icy blue eyes stared off into space as she considered the options the Queen had offered to her. One - renounce her title, give up the family quest, and retire into the shadows with no complaints. Though it seemed fair enough, Integra's pride would allow her no such luxury. She would never, ever allow anyone to disgrace the Hellsing family name. She hadn't killed her own uncle to just throw away everything after one little mishap.
On the other hand, she could work off her destructive tendencies, earn the Queen's and country's forgiveness with her work. Work, with no payment, no support, no recognition. This too stung at Integra's pride, but she knew American investors who would gladly give up funds to see results, especially if they could turn around and rub it in Britain's face. Integra didn't like the idea of helping the Americans, but there really was no other option for her. Half of her new force was dead, Walter was being hospitalized and his medical bills would need to be paid for, Arucard had virtually destroyed one of the greatest European monuments, the Tower of London itself...she sighed, taking a smooth drag from the cigar for comfort in her thought process.
Arucard watched his Master, lost in her thoughts. He knew of the Queen's ultimatums, her questions, and even how she had backed out at the last moment. None of it concerned him in the least - Integra had always mucked through the problems. All he did was kill the freaks, and if there were none to be killed, find new ways to amuse himself. Seras had been one of those things - but she was just a mannequin, a seriously flawed copy. An attempt to gain what he could not touch. Blonde, blue-eyed...a veritable young Integra, but with more moral guard and less cruelty. This often annoyed Arucard, her frailty and her misunderstandings, her oh-so human tendencies...
"You don't have to stay like this." It wouldn't be the first time Arucard offered her this gift. She knew what he wanted - the one thing she would never allow him to have. Oh, he could do as he pleased, come and go wherever he wished, if he asked for a new weapon, he received, brought home a new fledgling, they were cared for. Yes, he had his limitations, his reprimands, his punishments. He was an obedient servant, did as he was told, and he had his rewards. But never, never, could he touch the one thing he truly wanted.
The taste of Integra's flesh, her blood, the feel of her...to think of it wiped his mind blank and left a vicious grin on his face. Integra looked at her servant with a raised brow - she wouldn't be the first Hellsing that Arucard had tasted, but she would be the first he would turn, embrace into the darkness, a worthy companion that rivaled his own bloodlust. If she would only let go of her human morals! Release the idiotic conscience that held her down in the most minute concepts of life! He didn't notice his fists clenching unconsciously, the nervous laughter that was slipping out of his mouth at the odd moment or two.
Integra smiled. Instead of scowling like she had so many times before, she smiled. It wasn't a comforting, happy smile, nor was it a "come hither" of sexual intent - no, it was one of utter and complete pride, of knowing one is so powerful that they have immortality at their fingertips. A woman in the prime of her life, barely into her brightest years, full of failures and triumphs and strength, knowing that she only need snap her fingers and the world would distort itself to please her. She brought the cigar to her lips again, and Arucard laughed, neither nervously or happily - simply, in that he knew what was going through her mind. The grin on his thin face split him in two, like some kind of cruel harlequin.
"Leave me." The words were an order that brooked no argument - not that he would've argued. He knew that his offers were making their way into her mind, worming their way into her subconscious and turning her towards him. It was only a matter of time.
Just a matter of time, until they would be together, forever. Trapped. Always needing each other.