The Lost Princess

Chapter Seventeen

"Focus, Ilona."

She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes. She tried to stand as still as possible, her hands relaxed at her sides. She felt the cold air of the basement around her, yet it had no effect on her already icy skin. She sensed his powerful presence as he stood before her.

"Imagine your body dissolving," she heard his voice in her mind, knowing he was speaking to her telepathically rather than out loud.

She concentrated, feeling a tingle sensation in her fingertips. It slowly spread throughout her body, starting from the crown of her head and moving to her toes.

"Did it work?" she replied back to his mind.

When she heard no response she opened her eyes. He was beaming at her, his red eyes glowing in the dark. She looked down and saw a dark saw mist where her body had been, its edges radiating a faint red that resembled fog. She gasped loudly. 

"Relax, Ilona" he soothed her, still speaking through her mind. She willed herself to be calm. "Now imagine your body becoming solid again."

She closed her eyes again, imagining her form taking shape. She felt the mist evaporating and the feeling of returning to her body. When she opened her eyes again and she looked down to see she had successfully come back to her normal state.

"Well done," he spoke proudly.

She looked up into his eyes and returned the grin.
She realised how much she had missed seeing him smile and how happy it made her. She remembered all the times she had observed it; playing together as children, the day they had been reunited after so many years, when she had accepted his marriage proposal, seeing him hold their sons for the first time after each was born.

Of course, she had seen him smile many other times in their life together, mostly during the failure of his enemies and the victories of countless battles and wars. But this smile was different somehow, it was as if it had been reserved just for her.

The expression faded from his face as he read her thoughts. He looked at her wistfully, taking a step closer to her slowly and carefully.

She didn't retract as his gloved hand came to her face, cupping her cheek gently as if he was afraid she would break. It was the first time she'd let him be so close since he had come back into her life so suddenly.

She had only been at Hellsing now just over a week, but she had spent each evening with him in his sub-basement room deep below the manor. He had been patient with her as he trained her, teaching her things about their kind, but always respectfully keeping his distance.

She, in turn, had been careful with her thoughts around him, keeping her shields up and her feelings at bay, but tonight she had slipped.

She looked into his eyes, seeing how he longed for her still. His touch burned her cold skin. She turned away from him suddenly, overwhelmed by his closeness.

"I'm sorry," she heard him apologise.

When she didn't reply he spoke again.

"How long are you going to punish me like this for Ilona?" His voice was louder now, harsher.

She spun around quickly. "Did you assume I was going to fall into your arms the moment I saw you?"

She saw the shock in his expression and continued before he could speak.

"You, who turned me into this against my own will. You told me Seras choose to become a vampire on her own free will, but what of me? Do you think I wanted to become like this? That I was happy to lose everything? Thinking I had died that night and then waking the next, finding myself alone, confused, and hungry for blood. I killed, and I was captured, placed into a tomb that would hold me forever. And you, where were you?"

She paused, feeling the tears on her cheeks. She swallowed, wiping her face quickly.

"You moved through time, forgetting me, your sons, trying to claim others. Your brides, the poor Harker woman. And now you are a servant to humans. You, the man who would never bow to anyone."

The words poured out of her fiercely without thought. She saw the hurt in his face, the anger.

"You don't understand do you?" he shot back, his voice thick.

"You don't know the things I have been through, Ilona, the pain I have had to live with for nearly six-hundred years, how your face haunted me in my dreams, knowing every moment that I was the one who did this to you! I searched for you, hoping with every fibre of my being you were alive. You don't know how much it's tormented me all this time, thinking that I killed the one who I loved the most. Do you think it was easy to live for over five centuries with this pain? How could I interfere with our sons' lives when I was like this, after what happened between us? I lost control with you, Ilona, and I couldn't risk that with either of them. I failed you, our sons, my family, my people, my country. All which I swore to protect when I was captured then beheaded, at that moment making the choice to become like this."

He looked away from her, his voice becoming quieter.

"So I drifted through life, living with nothing but grief and regret. I took brides, yes, but out of loneliness and never out of love. I searched for you in every woman I ever met. And then I saw Mina, the spitting image of you, and I believed I had to have her. She wasn't you, but you were lost. And in trying to steal her I was defeated, revived only by Abraham Hellsing to serve his cause. So you see, the reason I am a servant today is that I was searching for you, even if it was through another."

As he finished speaking she understood he had never spoken about this to another, and the weight of the emotions he forgot he had seemed to weigh on him.

She saw the deep, red tears on his cheeks and realised it was the first time she had ever seen him weep in his life. She had never seen him so vulnerable.

She came closer to him, reaching out to wipe the tears gently. Her fingertips brushed against his cheekbones and feeling his smooth, hard skin she let her fingers rest there to cup his face. He sighed, gazing into her eyes deeply.

She wanted to say something, how they had been through too much, both together and apart, but he raised a finger to her lips. She realised his glove was gone, and she felt his skin against hers for the first time in centuries. 

Her blood felt like it was on fire.

He pulled her closer quickly as his lips devoured hers in a hungry and passionate kiss. She moaned quietly as his tongue found hers, his arms wrapping around her waist tightly.

She moved her fingers from where they had entangled in his soft hair to his neck, fumbling to undo the red cravat around his collar. He smirked into her lips.

"Can't wait, iubirea mea?" (my love)  She heard him laugh in her mind as he spoke to her telepathically.

"It's been close to six centuries," she retorted, earning a deep laugh from him that vibrated against her skin.

She felt his hands roaming over her body and she removed the knot finally, unbuttoning his white shirt next. She slipped the material from his shoulders, feeling his bare skin under her fingers.

His lips parted with hers as he pulled her shirt over her head gently. She examined his defined torso, her fingers gently pressed against his muscles.

His body was different and not the same as she remembered. She thought of all the times he had returned to her from battle; bruised, scratched, scarred. Like her, his skin was now creamy, perfect.

She inclined her head to press a soft kiss against his chest. Gently he took her chin in his hands, bending his neck once more to take her lips in his.

"Vlad?" she murmured in-between kisses.

"Hmmm?" he purred into her lips.

She pulled away once more, breathlessly, to look into his eyes.

"Te iubesc," (I love you) she spoke. He grinned, pulling her lips to his again.

"La fel și eu, regina mea" (as do I, my queen) she heard his voice in her head again.