La Danse du Crépuscule
A Hellsing Fanfiction

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Author's Note - Wh00t! I've finished rewriting both chapters one and two, but for tonight I'm only posting chapter one. The original versions of the first two chapters of this fiction will be available on my website. Unfortunately, my web hosting is currently being über stupid and pissy, so it's going to take a few days to get them up there. Once my wonderful beta reader is finished looking over chapter two it will be up, and once my web server stops being stupid the original versions will be up on: http://www.silverkeystudio.

Much thanks go out to everybody who reviewed or added this story to their favorites, that really makes me happy! And, thanks to my so-sweet beta reader, my husband, Boi Moosen, and to my kitties, Moose and Little Moose, for being such wonderful and cute distractions.

That's all for now, though I'm sure that there will be more to come with the next chapter!

Chapter 1 – Resisted Temptations

The room was dark, and the floor was cold. Thin streams of light trickled into the room around the door reflecting off the puddles of blood on the floor, but not enough for Integra to really see anything. Her eyes had adjusted quickly to the dim light when they had locked her in but now her vision was beginning to blur. Everywhere she looked she could see her blood, black-red in the dim light. It coated the walls and puddled on the concrete floor, it dripped from the ragged gashes in her flesh. Some of the cuts were deeper than others, and a muffled voice in the back of her head was pleading with her to at least try and stop the bleeding, but Integra could not move. All she was able to do was sit in the slowly growing puddle of her own blood, completely unable to move, as though paralyzed. The sight of blood captured her and rendered her immobile, though Integra had never shrunk back from the sight of blood before. 'Then again,' she thought, 'it's never been my blood before.' Integra continued to stare down at her hands, resting uselessly on her legs. She could just make out the cuts that covered her hands and legs, and though she couldn't see them Integra could feel every one of the lacerations on her arms, back and chest. The fabric of her jacket was soaked and heavy with blood and every breath Integra took caused the rough material to brush painfully against her injuries.

The muffled sounds of movement and speaking that had been drifting into the darkened room seemed to grow more distant and softer as Integra's vision continued to blur. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly shut, and willed her vision to clear. When she opened her eyes her vision had cleared slightly. Integra lifted her head and concentrated on the door across from her. It was one of the few spaces in the room without blood on it. She kept her eyes fixed firmly on the door as she struggled to push herself off the ground, desperate to rise. Pain lanced through each cut as she moved and she gasped for breath. Integra managed to stand, leaning heavily against the concrete wall. She could feel the blood flowing down her legs but she gathered her remaining strength and pushed off the wall, hoping her momentum would propel her to the door. Integra stumbled the first two steps and miraculously managed to stay on her feet. One second passed, then another and another as Integra stood swaying in the darkness. Breathing was becoming more difficult and Integra was amazed that she was still standing. Integra refocused her attention on the door, though the lack of blood sent the room spinning. Even as she lifted her foot, Integra knew that moving had been a mistake. Her knees buckled under the weight of her body and she fell to the floor with a dull thud.

As she lay on the cold concrete, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, her heart beating wildly against her ribs, waiting to die, the sounds beyond the door intensified and grew louder. Shouts reached Integra's ears, but she disregarded them as unimportant. Integra felt her eyes drifting shut against her will and wondered who would take over Hellsing operations when she was gone. Shots rang out and Integra couldn't help but be drawn to thoughts of Alucard. She found herself worried about how he would take her death. Would he mourn her, or would the enigmatic vampire simply take it as his chance to break the restrictions on his power? Her eyes were almost completely closed when the door swung open drenching every inch of the small room in blinding white light. A dark shape stepped into the doorway, its shadow reaching out to the corners of the room. Integra looked up as her eyes drifted shut, and found herself smiling as the darkness pulled her away from her pained, cut-up body. Alucard stood framed in the doorway, the last sight she saw.

Alucard gazed down as his commanding officer, the head of the illustrious Hellsing organization, his master, covered in her own blood and barely breathing. He had been able to smell her blood even before he had entered the building, but now the sweet scent threatened to overwhelm him; it was driving him almost to madness. Every fiber of his being was demanding that he claim her as his own there and then, but he dared not. If she survived this, and he would do everything in his power to ensure she did, she would hate him if he made this decision for her. There would be very little benefit to claiming her as his for eternity if she hated him. But if he didn't act fast she wouldn't be able to make any more decisions. He briefly toyed with the idea of bringing her to the human hospital only two blocks away, but discarded it quickly. Humans always had too many questions that couldn't be answered. Alucard stepped forward and picked up the limp body of his master, cradling her gently in his arms. He would simply have to do it himself.

When Integra finally regained consciousness it was to find herself lying on a large, lush bed of dark red silk which matched the opulent furnishing of the room she now occupied. This room was everything the last was not. The cell she had been locked in was bare; the only decoration on the concrete walls and floors her own blood, and dark. This room, one Integra recognized as part of the Hellsing mansion, was thickly carpeted, well decorated with heavy furniture, and lit by the numerous candles in ornate wall sconces. Everything, from the wallpaper to the carpet, to the furniture was a deep red color, and Integra found herself forcibly reminded of her own blood adorning the walls. The thought was fleeting, something about her surroundings calmed her and made her want to go back to sleep. First though, she wanted to inspect her wounds and see how they had been treated, which meant that she would have to sit up. Thankfully she found that her strength had returned somewhat, and she was able to push herself into a sitting position using her hands. Surprisingly, though she was sore all over, there were no bandages or even wounds on her flesh. Thin, angry red scratches covered her body and she felt as though she had been hit by a truck but there was no evidence that she had very recently nearly died of blood loss.

"Did you sleep well, master?" A velvety voice drifted from a darkened corner of the room. Integra squinted into the darkness and could vaguely make out Alucard's distinctive jacket and hat. "What happened?" Integra asked, ignoring his question for one of her own. Alucard smiled and shrugged, "They were smarter than the chipped freaks you're used to," he stated simply. "I mean my wounds." Integra clarified, her voice steel hard and cold. "What is it you really want to know? Are you still human?" It was what she needed to know, but she was unsure how to reply. Instead, she struggled to push herself out of bed, sweat beading on her forehead. Alucard considered forcing her to lie back down, but decided that would do neither of them any good. "Would you have had me leave you there to bleed to death? I would not choose that death for you, master. You are still human, master, but I will not hesitate to do what I must to ensure your continued survival." Alucard waited for her response, but none came. He had spent hours doing what he could to save her life without jeopardizing her precious humanity, but it had been taxing, to say the least. His power lent far more to destruction that healing, something that had made his task all the more complicated and exhausting, but it had been better than the alternatives.

He watched her stumble over to where he sat. She stood before him, clad only in a practical white bra and matching panties, covered in scratches. Her long hair hung limply at her back, still matted with blood and tangled, but he found her quite beautiful. She sat heavily on the floor and scooted towards where he sat. Integra leaned into him, and he had pulled her fragile body onto his lap, holding her close before he realized what he was doing. Even more surprising was that she did not pull away from him.

Integra hadn't intended to get so close to Alucard, her savior, her servant, her enemy, but somehow she found herself resting comfortably in his lap. She felt dirty and tired and sore but when he took her in his arms it didn't matter at all anymore. He was warm and he smelled like clean summer nights after the rain. Involuntarily, Integra shivered. Within seconds, before she knew he had moved, his coat was around her shoulders, and she was back in his arms. For a few seconds, she almost believed that he was safe, she almost forgot that he was everything she was fighting against. Then she leaned against his chest, and heard the absolute stillness of his dead heart. She pulled back from the embrace for only half a second. Then she gave in, too tired to fight, and fell asleep in his arms.