Real Life Princesses

Warning: This story is rated T. It contains language, violence and there could be kissing. Be warned and be good.

Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the property of Kohta Hirano and his publishers; I have no stake in them.

This story is set in January 1947. It is set to answer the question presented in the manga "what relationship did Alucard have with the Queen as alluded to in their meeting?" We are post-Dawn and knowledge of that series is helpful, though not essential. There are no pairings per se, but you're free to read anything into this that you like.

Chapter 1

"Walter!" A wet hand groped from the shower, reaching for the towel that dangled from a distracted youth's hand, "Dammit! Give me my ruddy towel already."

"Hm?" the boy was leaning against the tiled wall. He looked up from his comic book to see the fumbling hand. "Oh, sorry," he said in a voice that indicated a complete lack of concern. Walter tossed the towel toward the bath, eyes back on the battle taking place on the pages. Grumbling issued forth along with the steam. "Big day today, boss?" he said by way of polite conversation.

"A proper valet does not call his superior 'boss.' Sounds like street trash," the towel draped man, still young himself at twenty five, stepped from the shower and admired himself in the full length mirror. He looked at the reflection of the boy behind him and shook his head. "Are my clothes pressed? I'm almost afraid to ask about my shoes."

"Yes and yes. Shined 'em last night," Walter mumbled as he turned another page with a half gloved hand. He protested mildly as his employer took the comic out of his hands, dripping water over the superheroes. "I was reading that!"

"Yes, but you were supposed to be assisting me," the man spoke gently, but there was steel in his blue eyes. Sir Arthur Hellsing thought of Walter as one part kid brother, one part servant and two parts cold hearted killer. The last half accounting for the patience he tried to always show the boy. Walter C. Dornez had become a ward of the state during the war and had a rough time of it until the Hellsings became aware of him. He'd been the enforcer for a small gang of orphans and his skill had quickly gotten him in real trouble. Arrested for killing by age twelve, the boy smoked and talked filth like a sailor. Lady Hellsing, Arthur's mother, insisted that Walter be taught a trade not just turned into an assassin. And so he had; he'd become a butler and manservant for Arthur. He did right well at it those first few years, but then peacetime and puberty struck. Arthur sighed quietly, now at seventeen the boy had become too full of himself and they locked horns as often as not. If they could live through these teen years, it should be fine. "Go see to my breakfast while I dress then. Oh, and Walter? See if he's awake. No rest for the wicked you know." He watched the boy sulk out the door before returning to his own reflection. Arthur's wild blond hair was temporarily tamed and his face clean shaven. Well, if he was about to go meet royalty, he was as presentable as he got.

Walter didn't literally drag his feet, but he took more time to fuss over the breakfast dishes than was strictly necessary. A smile graced his lips as he left the office where Arthur would be arriving in a few minutes. In his mind, he parodied his boss chiding him, "Walter, we're not rationing any more, you know. You can be more generous with the bacon. Where's my double cream?" Spiteful, but he laughed at the puffed up image in his mind. As he walked slowly down the hallway, Walter pulled a fag from behind his ear. There wasn't a hurry or anything, he thought as he stopped to have a smoke. Part of his mind acknowledged that he was delaying the inevitable. He'd have to go down to that cell in the dungeon. Along with the dread, a thrill always crept along his spine. Walter tracked a trio of maids walking up the hallway. Two of them were ancient, but there was one he sort of fancied and he felt his face flush as she neared. Like all of the house staff, they merely nodded their greetings to him and hurried on to their task, probably cleaning the master's bedroom. Talking occurred mainly in the kitchen after hours. Mind you, he thought with a large dose of drama, it's not like I'm ever off duty. One job ends and the other begins. He slept when he could, but rarely got more than four hours in a row.

If that bastard is sleeping, Walter decided, he would kick the damned box over! More likely he'd be awake and waiting in ambush. Just what he wanted, he rolled his eyes, more training! Walter snorted out a puff of smoke, looking much like a sullen dragon, if said dragon would be caught dead in the drab hues of a butler. Butler... what he really wanted was more action, more missions! He tensed as he neared the lower corridor. It had the smell of chemical cleaners striving hard to cover the stench of death. The house had been in the hands of the Hellsings only about fifty years, but the smell of decay was much older. Carfax Abbey, it had once been called. Now it was the place he called home. Well, except these creepy laboratories. These were Lord Alucard's home. Alucard didn't look it Walter knew, but he was said to be a very old vampire. He'd taken Walter on as a sort of protégé as soon as they met. Alucard said he didn't care about the menial house tasks Walter was assigned, he wanted to train him to slay the un-dead. Sometimes Alucard scared him- a movement from the edge of his vision gave Walter just enough warning! Wires sailed out of the half-gloves he wore, tearing an angry gash across the vampire's face. The maniac moved so fast that Walter had to leap to avoid being knocked down. Glimmers of blood against the white of Alucard's smiling face flashed and were gone into the inky darkness again. Walter braced himself, strings ready to whirl in whichever direction needed. His heart raced with the thrill of danger. More often than not, it was Walter's intense enjoyment of these games that scared him most.

"Good," the words were spoken on Walter's right side, almost into his ear. Walter didn't stop to think, he let his hands move on their own, slicing the air in front of the demon creature. There was a soft thud as a hand, writhing inside a white glove hit the floor beside him. The shadows seemed to lift and Alucard was smiling expectantly.

"Shall I give you a hand, old chap?" Walter smiled at his own pun as he bent to pick up the bloody thing. Alucard's other hand came crashing down on Walter's head and he crumpled to the floor.

"Old?" He hissed, "You idiot. You'll be lucky if you live to see twenty." Black shadows encircled his wrist, attaching his hand once again. Alucard picked up the butler and carried him into the room, settling him unceremoniously atop the closed casket. "I know dear, but it's just for a few minutes," he said to no one in particular.

As Walter opened his eyes, Alucard came into focus, toying with a machine gun. "Holy Christ!" He was pretty sure the vampire wouldn't shoot at him lest a stray bullet nick the only thing this vampire truly loved, his coffin. Walter rubbed his throbbing head. "You needn't have hit so hard."

Alucard put down his Tommy gun and crossed the room to ease the boy off his final domain. "Can you stand?" As Walter nodded, Alucard moved his hand to feel the lump that was developing on the back of the boy's head. It wasn't bad, but he hadn't meant to leave a mark. Walter stood still, allowing the vampire to look into his eyes with his crazy red ones and to touch his face. The pain in his head eased.

Alucard appreciated the amount of trust the child had in him. It was an odd friendship that had formed during the early days of their training together. That had saved the boy's life a few times as he knew that if the vampire told him to do something during a battle, no matter how counter intuitive, it was a good idea to do it. Trust, it must be. It pleased Alucard down to his core, to the blackened souls of the damned he cradled within him, that the boy had seen his true nature in action and still trusted him.

"Well, 'brothers in arms' indeed!" Arthur Hellsing stood in the doorway watching the strange scene unfold. Discomforting others was one of his specialities and he relished the blush on the young man's face.

"Oh stuff it," Walter said to cover his embarrassment, "not everyone's a pervert like you." He knocked Alucard's hand from his cheek, or rather Alucard allowed his hand to be knocked away. Walter wasn't such a fool to think he could keep the vampire from touching him if he desired. He'd felt the strength in those hands often enough, usually as they came from nowhere with a punch during sparring. The No Life King could look like anything, even a little girl, while keeping that inhuman strength.

"Oh ho, pervert?" Arthur raised his eyebrows at Walter's cheekiness, "but I'm not the one being fondled by a corpse, am I? Alucard, if you're ready? I have a car waiting for us." The tall vampire held his steady gaze for several seconds longer than needed, as if he would say something about the jibe, but perhaps thought better of it and nodded instead. "Good, let's go then. Walter, get back to your studies while we're gone."

"Where are you going? Can't I come?" he watched the two stop in the doorway. Hellsing turned back to face him. "I can be your valet or something," Walter tried.

"Mm, not this time; you're a bit too much like a frog going to meet a princess," he chuckled and even Alucard favoured his master with a small smile. A dark look returned to Walter's grey eyes. He hated being laughed at, especially by the two men he most respected.