Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing, Alucard, Seras, Integra, or Walter. Though, at this point, I feel like I have my own claim.
Author's Note: Loosely based on the folk story Tam Lin (especially the version in the picture book I read as a kid).
It is also set circa 1810 (picture Jane Austen clothing) because I like the period and the historian in me demands Alucard have pants and a proper revolver at the very least. (His outfit is argumentative to much of male fashion before this period).
More information below.
'The Hall'
"Do not go to the Hall."
It was a phrase that she had heard most of her life, all the years since that awful night when a family servant had whisked her to safety away from the house. She still remembered the look of horror on the woman's face and the sinking realization that the woman had been equally horrified by her own un-childlike actions in addition to the massacre that had taken place that night. The servant had washed the young girl clean of the blood on her hands, but Seras knew it stained her hands still in the mind of that woman and many others. There was still fear in their eyes when they looked at her now.
"It is my right, Walter," she sighed, shaking her head from her thoughts. "The Hall is mine. Why it has been left abandoned for so long is stranger than my desire to see it."
"That place is cursed," the old retainer said softly. "Your parents were not the last to die there, Seras. You should not risk your life over something that you do not need."
"Hmph," she snorted, dusting flour from her hands and placing a cloth over the dough to ensure its rise. "I still pay the taxes on it. I should be allowed to live there."
"Seras," Walter sighed.
"You cannot stop me, Walter. Tomorrow, I reach my majority and I will go to the Hall and reclaim what is mine." She smiled humorously as she turned to face him, her kitchen task done. "And who believes in curses in this day and age? We have conquered the globe! What magic can still exist to hurt me?"
The aging retainer did not say anything as she leaned over to kiss his forehead affectionately before leaving the sunlit kitchen. He knew what she would not say, knew the exhaustion she felt from the constant waves of fear and judgment from the little village that they lived in. Despite the fact that she was the Lady of the land and still but a child, she did not hold their love. The Hall offered her a respite from that.
But Walter knew very well what magic could harm her still.
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The old bastard had tricked her. Half the day had been wasted with various distractions and enforced pleasantries. Half the village had shown up on her doorstep to wish her well on her majority, almost masking their unease with pleasantness and they gave her gifts to commemorate the date.
Even the Crown's man had shown himself. Sir Penwood came a full week earlier than typical to ensure that she signed all the proper papers that severed her wardship of the state. Walter said nothing during the exchange to indicate that it was his fault (and, to be fair, Penwood probably wanted it over and done with). Still, she had her suspicions.
It was well past noon before she had shaken free of their claims on her time. The late November sun would scarce give her a couple of hours to make her journey to her ancestral home, a fact that she and Walter were both aware of. He was almost smug when he left the house shortly past two in the afternoon, silently assured that he had prevented her trek for at least one more day.
She was quick to prove him wrong.
After donning her pelisse and shawl, she secreted a dagger up her thick sleeve and fastened her bonnet over her head, more for warmth than propriety. The nights were close to freezing at night and she would not take chances with that for all of her stubbornness.
Leaving no note – it was unnecessary, she walked from the small cottage she had been living in since her 6th year and made her way purposefully to the edge of the village. No one stopped her, unaware of where she was heading and too uneasy in her presence for social niceties. At the border of civilization, she kept walking, her feet steadfastly climbing the increasing incline as she made her way to the steep overlook where her ancestral house loomed.
Walter said she was stubborn, stuck on a past life that she no longer needed, and doomed to only bring her pain. What he failed to understand was how perfectly the window in her bedroom framed the home that should be hers. How staring at it day after day made her angry that the men who had stolen her parents from her had also managed to steal her home, even after justice had seen them hang in the village square.
She had waited more than a decade to reclaim her past, to take back what was stolen.
She would wait no longer.
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It was not gone three when Walter returned to the cottage to find her gone. With a sigh, he turned round and stepped out the door to look up at the edifice that had shadowed his young charge's life. While he was still capable of many things, far more than the young girl might suppose, he was no longer young enough to make the journey after her quickly enough to stop harm from falling on her. The village only boasted a few horses and they would be laboring under their masters right now, available for the asking, but only at a cost of time too great.
With a sigh, he leaned against the outer wall of the cottage and lit a cigarette.
All there was left to do was wait to see if she would return.
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Dusk was imminent as she finally approached the house. The grounds, left unattended for so long, had grown wild and seemed to fight her every step. Still, she was determined and it was only a few minutes more before she was standing before the edifice, staring at the door that stood as the last barrier between her and her home.
After a moment's pause, her fingers sought the chain around her neck, pulling it from where it lay tangled beneath her bodice until her prize was in her hand. Without hesitation, she pulled hard, breaking the chain and freeing the key from where it had sat for years. Finally, it would have purpose again.
The lock stuck for a moment before giving way under her ministrations and the door creaked heavily as it opened. The sound echoed through the empty halls before being swallowed up by silence once more. Slowly, she stepped in before closing it against the chilling wind once more.
The last specks of daylight illuminated spaces that ached with loneliness and abandon. The stone floor echoed with her steps as she wandered aimlessly through the rooms. Often through the years, she had cursed her vivid memory, but now she was grateful to it as each room conjured up some new happy memory of her family within the walls. The light continued to fade with each step she took, but her memories remained brilliant and she failed to notice the approaching darkness.
Finally, she stepped into the room where it had all happened. For a moment, she saw blood still on the floors and walls, evidence of the brutality of the event. Then she blinked and the scene was gone, the blood erased from the room by those who had taken away the bodies for burial. Silently, she thanked whoever had taken the time even as she noticed that they had cleaned little else.
Along the wall, beneath the window, there was still a crack and a heap of broken wood. A ghost of pain surged through her back as she looked at it and imaginary splinters dug into her legs. There was even a small, dusty scrap of fabric hanging from one of the larger pieces, all that remained of a sleeping gown her caretakers had burned later.
She smirked slightly as she noted that someone had bothered to remove the fork that had been her weapon. That had not escaped the attempts to erase the blood at least.
A strange sound outside drew her attention suddenly. It was then she realized that the sun was almost completely gone. Furious with Walter once more for his attempts at manipulation, she made her way from the room and into the rear of the house where the servants had once worked. Memory told her that there would be lanterns there that she could use to light her way back home.
No, to the cottage.
This was her home and she would be living here again soon.
Thankfully, her memory served her well and she quickly located a lantern and tinderbox to light it with. Not looking forward to the biting cold, she hesitated out of dread before opening the back door to leave.
Foolishly, she had forgotten the sound that had alerted her to the time in the first place.
As she opened the door, the light of her lantern gave vague illumination to a man not five yards away. Seras stopped short, an unease building in her as she looked at him. These were not well travelled areas and she should know every many that lived within 15 miles, but this man was unfamiliar to her. Worse, the longer she stared at him, the sicker his smile grew.
A million thoughts jostled for prominence in her mind in that moment as she tried to isolate the best course of action. Something told her that shutting the door would not help her. Something told her that doors meant little to this man. Yet, running out would bring her closer to this silent menace and closer to danger.
Her hesitation, momentary though it was, proved to be her undoing. Within the space of a blink, the man had closed the gap between them. The dancing light shone on his features revealing sick malice and gaunt, pale skin. Before she could adjust to this new proximity, his hand was at her throat, lifting her from her feet as he pinned her to the wall.
"I've been so hungry, wandering around lost in the countryside for weeks. Spotted this place from a distance. Took a chance for a servant to wander off and…disappear."
Seras grimaced as he leaned forward to smell her, her fingers tearing at his hand. Even as he accosted her, she wondered at his high-class London accent. Why would he be hungry?
"I was about to despair when I realized the house was abandoned. Such a fine home, too. And then you walked out." He grinned at her, his blonde hair catching the light of the lantern now toppled over at their feet. Still, she could not make out his face, something she both hated and was grateful for. "What are you doing, girl? Taking a dare to the local haunted mausoleum?"
"This…is…my…home," she bit out, voice barely scratching past his grip.
"Pull the other one girl," he laughed. "Still, beggars cannot be choosers and I'm not so used to begging."
"Neither…am…I."
While he had been gloating in her face, she had finally dropped her hands in defeat. Or so he thought. The blade slashing across his throat came as a complete surprise and, covered in blood, Seras dropped to her feet as the man stumbled away in shock. Not taking any chances, she doubled over to grab the mercifully still lit lantern and turned to sprint away.
Unfortunately, she was not fast enough. Within seconds, he had caught up behind her, chuckling into her ear as he pulled her against his body.
"A feisty one! I do like a girl with some spirit. I was just going to have my meal, but maybe I should sample your other delights first. Probably a good idea anyway, wouldn't want to sign up for more than I bargained for. Killing a fledgling is easy enough, but you might give me trouble."
"Despicable."
Both Seras and her captor stilled at the single word. The man looked around quickly, jerking her to face back towards the house as he caught sight of a splash of red. It took Seras a moment to focus, her mind reeling at how quickly the man had recovered. But there, in front of the still open door that she had exited, stood a man, his figure becoming clear as the clouds parted and the moonlight illuminated the scene further.
His grey breeches and coat looked to be made of the finest materials where she could see them under his enormous red coat. It was a red that matched his eyes, sending a shiver down Seras' spine.
"Hello, sir! Have I stumbled across your hunting grounds?"
Her captor tensed in his hold on her, his jovial and friendly voice belied by that tension. Taking advantage of his distraction, she took the dagger he had yet to disarm her of and slashed his forearm deeply. With a hiss, he loosened his grip enough for her to pull free. She stumbled forward a few steps, gaining distance from both men. Something told her, however, not to run and so she stood and watched them.
"Pathetic," the man in red remarked scathingly. "It's been awhile since I've been forced to deal with trash like you in my domain."
"Where is your sense of hospitality?" her captor chuckled nervously. In the moonlight, she saw that his eyes, too, were red and Seras began to fear that all the talk of demons and curses had been right.
"For you, I have none."
"Well, sod off then," her captor shrugged. The moment after that was a blur, though. When she went back and thought on it later, Seras realized that her captor had moved to attack the other man in that quick way he had done with her. However, the other man had been quicker and before his movement could even happen, the man in red had pulled out a revolver and shot him in the head.
The gunfire seemed to echo forever, but finally silence fell and Seras found herself staring at her strange savior, unsure if he meant her harm as well. Whatever he was, it was not human and she had been brought up properly enough to know that demons and fairy folk did not play by human rules. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, before the man smirked and drew a gentlemanly bow.
"My lady."
"Sir."
"Has no one ever told you to stay away from the Hall? That monsters and curses live here?"
"I live here. Or…I will," she added with less certainty.
His expression drew curious at her words and he looked at her a moment, his face a mask as he considered her.
"You are Lady Victoria then?"
"Yes," she nodded. "I am afraid you have the advantage."
His lips broke then into an unsettling grin. "More than you know, my lady. Still, it is pointless to stand out here in the cold. I have no intention of hurting you. You are free to leave."
Her eyes narrowed at him. "You speak like you live here."
"Live?" he laughed ironically. "No, but I have been staying here for a while. A…gentleman in the village let me know that it was vacant and that people thought it was cursed. I am…trying to avoid some people so it seemed ideal."
"No one bothered to ask my permission," she sighed. Something about the way he smiled at her continued to make her feel uneasy. She was no fool. He was not normal, not human. Still, she believed him when he said he meant her no harm. "It is late and I must return." Bending over to pick up her lantern once more, she turned to leave.
"You should come back in."
Seras paused at the statement. His voice sounded…coaxing. He wanted her to stay but would not force it. Peering over her shoulder at him, she found he was smiling in a less unnatural way.
"Why?"
"It is a long walk back to the village. It is nearly freezing. If you do not warm yourself up before you go, you will surely freeze on the road." He stepped away from the door, gesturing her to lead them inside. "I promise: I have no intentions on your virtue. I just think it would be poor manors to let my benefactor – even an unknowing one – freeze to death when I could prevent it.
She stared at him long and hard, her mind at war with itself. Her sense and reason told her to leave. The brisk exercise and shortened time of walking downhill would see her back to the village before she would suffer the cold. However…
It was beyond her to deny that she found the man fascinating. Never before had she met a man so handsome. Nor had she ever had a man look at her without feeling fear or dislike. In fact, despite his gentlemanly words, she could see in his eyes that he found her attractive, a sensation she had yet to experience.
But he was clearly not human. Not safe. He might very well be the curse that everyone warned lived within the Hall….
Straightening her shoulders, Seras nodded and moved towards him to walk into the house.
"Excellent."
Well, this one has been percolating in my head for about 5 or so years now. I never got around to it because of work and school and awfulness, but today I felt like it was a good day. Also a timely one. So, thus I managed to get it done. I did write this all in one day, though not in one sitting (laundry day!). It has only been beta'd by Grammarly so please forgive any errors.
I will also say that this story...got away from me. While many key aspects were based on the simple story and the original intention was to keep it brief and fairy tale like, the narrative jumped in and told me otherwise. I hope it is good and entertains. There are three chapters total. I hope they please.
Til Next time.