Dependency

Ketti: I'm not even sorry. I've had this in the works for a while, too, though I think it's pretty recent as in this year instead of 2015 or earlier. Warning that this is so recent I don't have anything planned for chapter two, though I know where I want to go with it. You'll just have to be patient, but at least I'll be distracting you with other updates. We'll have fun with that.

Seras shaded her eyes from the light as she crept out of the dark confines of the castle into the peaceful garden, her complexion so white as to be sickly. The scar on her wrist throbbed, red and puckered, but she ignored it as she sprawled out across the grass, absorbing the warmth of the sun greedily. Eyes closed, she smiled and allowed herself to relax, out of the reach of the greedy mouths inside the claustrophobic walls. The breeze shifted, cooling her skin and bringing a sickly sweet smell to her nostrils, the stench of cloying perfume, and she frowned, trying to ignore it as she sought to keep the peace in her little sanctuary for a little longer. Her attempts failed as she heard the swishing of cloth, shhf, shhf, shhf, drifting across the grass and she looked up wearily to observe the too-pale face of the noble Lady towering over her. Seras did nothing for a long moment before she rolled onto her stomach to bow her head in lieu of a curtsy, she wasn't going to get up just to be pushed back down anyways.

"M'lady," the blonde human simpered insincerely, "is there something you need from me?"

Silence.

Seras kept her head bowed, waiting, a goblet was dropped onto the grass under Seras' nose and the blonde stared blankly at the wooden cup, all expression leaving her face as she nodded and reached for her belt where a small but sharp dagger hung sheathed. Pulling the blade free, sunlight gleaming on the polished metal, she sat up to balance the goblet with her knees, slashing her wrist in a swift strike of steel, the river of red pouring down in a sinful waterfall to pool in the cup.

My cup runneth over, she thought pessimistically as she watched her life gather in a crimson ocean. She waited, and after a moment, glanced up at the Lady that had the power to withstand the light of day, teeth grinding as the vampire made no move to approach further. So, she's going to make me beg.

Torn between pride and survival, the blonde dropped her blade into her lap next to the goblet – careful not to tip it at any cost – and grasped her wrist, thumb pressing down on the veins to slow the flow of blood. That got a reaction, the Lady hissing in displeasure and yanking Seras up by the wrist, ironically forming a tourniquet for the human and by some miracle not spilling the over full cup as she grasped it with her other hand, holding it delicately while dangling the insolent human roughly in the air with a snarl on her once beautiful face. Seras met her stare for what felt like eternity, showing no fear, and the Lady's lip curled before she dipped her head forward and ran her tongue along the open wound, the skin sealing together in its wake and leaving the girl feeling even more weak and sickly. She was dropped unceremoniously and the hungry noble turned in a swish of her excessive skirts to return to the dim comforts of the castle, leaving Seras alone once more in the garden.

Clutching her stomach one handed, covering her mouth with the other, she fought the nausea and fumbled at her belt pouch for the dry crackers she kept in a bag for such occasions. Greedy bastards, she moaned internally as she choked down the stale saltines. Damned Day Walkers trying to bleed me like a stuck pig. Going to have to hit up the kitchens, Not daring to speak the words aloud, for vampires had detestfully good hearing, and if one was in enough of a mood, she'd have a broken bone or two for her insolence. Exhaustion tugged at her bones and she yawned, crawling over to a patch of shade beneath a tree, curling in on herself and pillowing her head on her arms, she slept.

Blood loss was exhausting, no matter how accustomed to the process she was.

It was the gentle hoot hoo of the owl that woke her from her slumber, and she shivered as the chill of the night soaked into her skin. Stretching and groaning, she wriggled fingers and toes before clambering a bit unsteadily to her feet, face upturned to the silver glow of the moonlight above. For all the horrors that lurked in the shadows of the dark, Seras could not help but admire the beauty of the star filled sky. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she chuckled nervously, looking about for any sign of glowing eyes among the leaves to give away other occupants of the walled garden. There was nothing, and so she forced her tired legs to move, retreating back to the inner door on the west wall where the human servants and blood donors lived. She opened it a bit clumsily, shuddering pleasantly at the warmth leaking from the stone halls, and closed the great door behind her before making her way to the kitchens. Just outside the door she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickling and she stopped as a long fingered hand grasped her shoulder and pulled her back into a firm chest. "Hello Poppet," he purred, an all too familiar voice of one of the lesser Nobles, his chin resting on her collarbone.

"Where have you been all night?" She could feel the air moving as he sniffed at her skin, and he pushed her into the wall, crowding her with his body as hands slid along her sides insistently. "Out in the garden? You smell of grass, Poppet." Seras said nothing, face stony as she leaned away from his touch and he clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Now now, I just want a little fun, maybe a little nibble, that's all, luv."

Seras pursed her lips and pressed her palms to his chest, pushing gently, "I barely have any blood left for myself, m'lord, I can't spare any more tonight."

He growled and one hand rose to cup her breast while a leg slid between hers, the hem of her skirt riding up indecently as he pressed her tighter to the stones, making it hard to breathe. "Impertinent little trollop," he hissed, "don't deny me."

Seras felt numbness crawl through her veins and her hand slid to her belt, grabbing the hilt of her dagger as the Lord Mikael breathed cold air across her throat. She felt the brush of his fangs across her skin and in the split second before she could draw her blade and plunge it into his heart, a voice spoke at the end of the hall. "Mikael!" It was a sharp feminine voice, commanding, "How many times must I remind you not to bite the castle servants?"

The lustful vampire hissed in discontent, his auburn hair falling into his face as he pulled back reluctantly from his favorite toy. Feeling spiteful, he grabbed her wrist and broke it with a simple twist before stalking off in a huff towards his Siress to rejoin the other vampires in the Great Hall.

Seras bit her lip to muffle her pained moan and slid down the wall in a limp heap on the floor.

It was only a moment before warm calloused hands fluttered over her shoulders and picked her up under the armpits, pressing her against another equally familiar chest as the one eyed red head pulled her into the supposed safety of the kitchens where her bones could be set and she could get a good fortifying meal high in iron to help with her blood deficiency.

Seras had the unfortunate role of blood donor to the ravenous undead, and dealt with a constant state of anemia. She wasn't alone, however, and all servants, slated blood donors or no, dealt with the heavy handed and often abusive ways of their Nosferatu employers. So they were all quite well equipped to deal first aid to another, mending broken bones and stitching wounds, there was even an emergency supply of IV blood bags for transfusions.

It was a dog eat dog world in the walls of the vampire infested castle, but the humans knew they had to stick together to survive for more than a day, and Seras couldn't be more grateful for it. Being able to relax and let someone else take care of setting her broken wrist was a luxury she couldn't often afford.

A hand shook her shoulder and she woke slowly with a tired yawn, blinking blearily at the dancing light from the kitchen fire. The hand kept shaking until she raised her head to meet the concerned eyes of Cassie the kitchen maid. "You alright then? I afeared ye wouldn't wake up this time!" She exclaimed, worry clear in her eyes as she helped Seras sit up straighter, handing her a loaf of bread stuffed with meat and cheese. "I dunno how you can stand it, going out in the halls like that. Why, I'd prolly piss m'self if one of those high and mighty fanged ones came near me for blood! And!" She continued in a slightly shrill voice, "the way I hear it ye practically volunteered for it!"

Seras gazed at her solemnly for a moment before tearing into the bread with a savage hunger. Even after the meal she stuffed herself with prior to her nap, she was hungry. The silence stretched between them like a live wire as the agitated Cassie stared at her, demanding a response. Finally, Seras lowered her bread and tipped her head, "You still have to donate blood," she pointed out, "it's the rule."

Cassie huffed, fluffing up like an irritated mother hen, "Well it's by more sanitary means than their fangs or your little blade! Pouring blood in a cup, it's obscene!"

Seras shrugged indifferently, scratching absently at the splint on her wrist, which only seemed to rile the kitchen girl up further. "You're not like the others," she almost whispered, "you don't do it for the rush of fangs in your pretty skin, or for want of pain. Why?"

Blue eyes met green for a long moment, the unwavering stare unnerving the concerned Cassie, and she looked away in defeat. "It's not safe."

"No place is safe," Seras corrected gently, "But in these halls I have a better chance, only one or two of them try to bite me, and what's a few broken bones compared to the swarms of ghouls that roam the land at the command of their careless masters? There's no order out there, it's every man for himself. In here, the King has rules, and if you don't follow them you get thrown outside to the wolves." There was such a cold indifference to the blonde's words that Cassie shuddered and set down a tankard full of milk before fleeing to the other end of the kitchen hall to tend some stew.

What Seras didn't say, what she couldn't bare to admit out loud, was that the self same King that "protected" his human property was also the one who allowed the others to run rampant in the land. It was his choice, his amusement, that let them rule over the humans like abusive shepherds. The blonde girl's lips tightened in a grim line as she finished her bread and guzzled her milk. She'd need to get a fresh bottle of champagne if she were to make her rounds through the Great Hall tomorrow night.

Clambering to her feet, thankful that her sense of balance had returned, she padded silently on bare feet across the flour dusted stone floor to the entrance of the wine cellar. Nose crinkling at the stale smell, she grabbed a lantern from the pile, lighting it easily and making her way carefully down the smooth steps.

As she reached for the top shelf, where dusty bottles sat in a row, she heard someone moaning softly. Wheeling around, she tried in vain to peer into the darkness beyond her circle of light to find the source of the noise. There was a rustling of cloth, shuffling footsteps, and the moan grew louder. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, she set the bottle back down and grabbed a plank of wood splintered from an empty crate, wincing as she held the lantern with her injured hand. That moaning sounded so familiar that it made her heart ache and she raised the light over her head. "Who's there?"

The moaning became a sick gurgling and Seras knew without looking what she'd find, but she took a step forward nonetheless, plank held at the ready. She turned the corner of the champagne aisle, and saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She jumped forward out of reach of the clammy decaying hands, and pivoted on her heel to watch the ghoul with practiced detachment. The dress hanging off the shambling form would have been pretty if not for the stains, and she knew how the golden hair would have gleamed in the light, the sunken eyes no longer a cheerful cinnamon color, they glowed with a sickly yellow light. Gurgling and groaning piteously as wasted fingers clawed the air, reaching for her, Seras stole a glance over her shoulder, noting a stack of crates not far off, she'd lead the ghoul there. Taking careful steps backward, making sure not to go too fast or too slow, she took shallow breaths to avoid retching on the stench of decaying flesh. Ghouls putrefied so quickly, you could never tell how recently they were made.

The light seemed to intensify as she caged herself into the alley of crates, some empty, most full, and she kept herself calm through sheer force of will, counting each shambling step the former maid took. Finally when she was within reach, Seras swung her plank into soft, almost moist, flesh and broke the flimsy wrists, buying herself the time needed to crack the feeble kneecaps in on themselves, hobbling the walking corpse. For good measure she broke the plank over the ghoul's head and scurried around the temporarily stunned form to push the crates across the opening, steadfastly ignoring the sickening sounds from the pitiful creature within as she formed a cage of wood.

Whoever had done this was not very strong, perhaps had not even realized their victim would change. For the ghoul was pathetically weak and dull witted, little better than a rabid animal.

Satisfied that it would hold, for now, she hurried up the steps and through the kitchen door, not sparing the time to turn out the lamp as she set it down or even pick the splinters out of her skin as she ran through the halls to find a guard to deal with the ghoul before it got loose. Her wrist throbbed painfully and she held it closer to her chest, each breath coming a little heavier as bare feet pounded on stone, cursing her bad luck that the one time she'd want to find a vampire there'd be none in sight. Taking a steadying breath, she changed course towards the Great Hall, cursing under her breath as she navigated the twists and turns of the servant's entrance, ignoring the strange looks she received from her fellow mortals.

Stopping for only a moment, she leaned against the wall behind the curtain separating her from the room full of blood suckers, trying to catch her laboring breath and compose herself. It worked, if only a little. Trembling hands hidden behind her back, she crept through the curtain, aiming for one of the guards on the fringe, only to be stopped by a hand on her shoulder and a deep and purring voice. "Hello Poppet."

Shit.

Jaw tensing, chest tightening, she turned her head slowly to face Lord Mikael, and he leered at her aggressively. "Thought you didn't have any blood to spare," he mocked her, "and yet you're here. Did you miss me?"

Seras fought a quick battle with herself over what to say, her more sensible side winning out, and she replied in a cool, indifferent tone. "No, m'lord. I came to inform the guard that there's a ghoul in the wine cellar."

Conversation around her stopped, and multiple pairs of eyes turned to her, almost accusingly, as if daring her to say she was only kidding. She stood strong under their multi colored gazes, and waited, watching the guard she'd meant to speak to approaching. Another beat him to it, however, as a deep voice growled at her back; "A ghoul, you say?"

Something in that voice sent shivers down her spine and she turned, barely biting back a gasp of surprise (and maybe a dash of panic) at seeing the No Life King himself standing there among a crowd of other higher ranking Nobles. Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling on it for a moment, she nodded and spread her skirts in a curtsy as she ducked out of Mikael's lax hold. "Yes, Majesty, it used to be a maid named Anna. I trapped it with some crates, but I fear it will get loose."

A gloved hand grasped her chin almost roughly, lifting her face to meet his swirling ginger gaze. She met his stare steadily, even as she felt as though he were gazing into her very soul. His lips curled down at the corner, accepting her words as truth. "A ghoul," he mused, "someone has forgotten the rules." His voice was filled with such casual malice that Seras shivered, and his fingers tightened on her jaw, she winced.

"Would you like me to deal with it, Majesty?" The guard asked as he stood by Lord Mikael, sounding almost bored. "No," the Vampire King answered, "I think we'll make a game of it." His cold gaze swept over the gathering of vampires, and his lip curled the slightest, showing the edge of a fang, "Bring the ghoul to the Hall, and my guests shall take a turn at commanding the creature. Whoever made it shall be punished."

"Of course, Majesty." The guard replied, and Seras watched three of them depart from the corner of her eye, but she was trapped as the King had yet to release her, and the other occupants all shifted and muttered uneasily to themselves, none of them eager to try the King's so called game. The penalty for breaking his rules was usually death.

"Come," he purred to Seras as his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her along with him, "let us have a proper view for when the entertainment starts."

Given no choice, she followed obediently, struck mute by a combination of nerves and something she refused to acknowledge. He sat on his throne with a careless grace, sprawling across the rich velvet indolently, and Seras knelt by his side, head lowered subserviently. She hadn't prepared for this, and was scrambling for what to do. She knew what Sir Integra would have told her to do, but she didn't fancy herself a martyr, and was never fond of suicide missions. So she kept her hands in her lap and waited, resisting the urge to scratch at the splint.

Moments later (though it seemed like eternity), Seras could hear the guards returning, as well as the sound of something being dragged. The guards strode through the door and carelessly threw the ghoul near the foot of the throne. Seras couldn't help but look up as the decayed smell accosted her nose again. The ghoul seemed sentient for a moment, pushing itself up on its elbows and looking around with a blank, unblinking stare.

Moments passed and nothing happened. Seras knew that every eye was riveted on the ghoul, and she felt the fear and panic begin to clench in hundreds of unbeating hearts. Suspicion lay like a thick miasma over the entire chamber.

Seras heard a muffled grunt and looked up despite her instincts screaming to keep her head down. The king had a thoughtful frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed as he watched the creature.

"Bait," he finally muttered, hand on his chin. He looked about the room, and the guard nearest them reached a hand out to Seras with a questioning glance at the king who looked down and caught her eye. She found herself unable to look away, staring back unwaveringly, too stubborn to show the dread gnawing at her own heart. He watched her for a long moment, then smiled in a way that seemed nearly mocking. Of course, she'd take that to cruel indifference for her life any day.

"No, I think I'll reward this little girl. After all, she's about to help me find a lawbreaker in our midst, and we all know how I feel about dissidents." He waved dismissively to the guard. "Bring another. Choose one from the guests' convoys, if you would." At this, the crowd shifted and mumbled. He looked at them with a cold, calculating gaze.

"What is it? If you're being honest, your servants will have nothing to fear. Of course, you could always save your fellow countrymen trouble and give yourself up. No?" He asked with an air of false surprise when no one stepped forward. "Alright then... We'll just play this game the hard way."

The guard nodded and waved his hand at his men, two of them slipping out the door, presumably in search of the King's bait, while Seras watched it all with wary indifference. Something moved behind her, almost silent, and she jumped to attention, turning her head just in time to meet multiple pairs of glowing red eyes. The hell hound's tongue dangled from his mouth in an almost cheerful way as he sniffed the air and dropped his head to nudge the scrape she hadn't noticed on her arm. She went stiff in alarm as his warm tongue slid over her skin, his saliva leaving behind a tingling burn. She glanced up at the King between her lashes, only to find he was either ignoring her, or hadn't noticed.

She fell onto her side abruptly as the dog shoved her off balance and it was only shock that kept her from crying out as the ebony beast lowered his great head towards her stomach. Fear curdled in her veins and her hands shot up to intercept what seemed like the inevitable bite, only to find her palm suffused with that same burning tingle. The splinters of wood slid free without a fuss and she blinked, a blank expression on her face as the hound slobbered all over her, tongue curling around her splinted wrist in particular.

Finally the shock wore off, and her nose crinkled in distaste. "That's disgusting. Stop drooling on me, you mutt!" She complained, words quiet, yet almost seeming to echo in the silence of the hall, she had almost forgotten where she was, so caught up in the life-flashing-before-her-eyes terror that the hell hound had sparked in her before it faded to baffled amusement tinged with morbid curiosity.

"I wouldn't complain if I were you," the King rumbled in amusement, "it could be worse." At his words, the door opened and closed again and the terrified servant was dragged into the center of the space that had formed around the throne and the stirring ghoul.

"Now then, the rules of the game!" The No Life King announced with gleeful malice, clapping his hands in the deathly silence that filled the Great Hall. "Only the Bloodlines that can create ghouls must participate, you shall line up by Household, and each of you shall try commanding the ghoul to leave the servant alone. Participation is mandatory, and telepathic communication is off limits, you must try as if your life depended on it." The unspoken message was clear 'Because it does.' His sharp teeth were bared in a shark like grin as he lounged back in his throne and crossed one leg over the other. "You have five minutes to assemble in your lines before the test begins.'

Seras was amazed by how quickly the vampires scrambled, the lesser nobility who lacked the ghoul trait in their bite pulled back to the walls with smug little quirks to their lips, while lines formed like ants on a march, colors blending into a sea of reds, blues, purples and blacks, the only thing tying them together were the shades of their eyes.

The hellhound, apparently done molesting her with his tongue, sat on her legs and she squeaked, pinned to the floor under the rather intimidating weight of the King's dog. "I'm not a couch!" She complained, pushing at the hound's chest ineffectively.

"Baskerville." The King snapped his fingers and Seras quickly pulled her legs out from under the black dog as he perked to attention, but before she could go very far she felt a set of teeth sinking into the back of her shirt and she yipped in surprise as the mutt pulled her back to land at his feet. "Really?" She mumbled under her breath, sighing and crossing her legs to get as comfortable as she could with a multi eyed creature from Hell breathing down her neck while the last minute leading up to the game ticked by. She risked a glance at the King to find him glancing at her as well, amusement written plain as day across his face. His eyebrow twitched and she pursed her lips before looking down at her bare toes, resolving to ignore both of them if she could.

When the rustling of clothing died down and silence reigned once more, the king looked out at the lines. not a single vampire was out of place; it looked as precise as an army's troops before they marched into battle.

"Well... who wishes to begin? Or shall I choose?" he asked them, tone almost lighthearted if it weren't for the dark current of malice behind each word. The families all murmured and then a lone woman broke ranks, stepping up with a peeved look on her face.

"I know for certain that my family is loyal," she declared. "Let us go first, your Eminence." The king agreed with a nod and a wave of his hand. The guards stepped away from the servant and the trembling human began to whimper in fright as the ghoul caught the scent of fresh meat. it turned and began to drag itself surprisingly fast towards its new target. Seras bit back a gasp as the vampiress let it get close before shouting "Cease!" at the top of her lungs. The ghoul didn't even notice, from the looks of things, and a guard stepped forward and kicked it away before it was able to reach biting range.

"Alright, my son," the vampiress said triumphantly, turning to the man that now headed the short line of nobles. "Go ahead." The man nodded, and then each one in the line took a turn calling the ghoul. None of them had any effect on the monster, and the king scratched his cheek absently, rubbing at the stubble there as if considering the merits of a beard or shaving.

"Lady Allouette's family... is innocent." he declared, and then motioned to the line on her immediate right. "You next, Valquez." The Spaniard heading the line bowed, and then stepped forward to repeat the process. It went on for a good hour or more, Seras wasn't quite sure, when she recognized the austere Lady Ashante, Mikael's grandsire, who curtsied before the King, and he nodded in return, the ghoul advancing on the not-so-scared-anymore servant who flinched nonetheless and looked hopefully at the guards.

"Halt!" The Lady commanded and for a moment the ghoul perked up its head and looked at her before continuing to advance on the servant.

A hush fell across the gathering as all eyes focused on the line of vampires, the King sitting straighter in his chair, a bloodthirsty smile curving his lips, "Ah, so, someone of your line has forgotten their manners dear Lady. What a pity."

Lady Ashante went white as a sheet, lips pressed into a thin line as she turned and glared at her progeny accusingly. "I apologize, my King, it shall not happen again." With a jerk of her slender wrist, she silently commanded the next in line to approach. The atmosphere grew tense, nearly suffocating in the anticipation of the culprit's identity. Seras lifted her head a little and bit her lip as she caught Mikael's gaze. If looks could kill, she knew she'd be stricken dead on the spot, temporary protection of the King or no.

It didn't take long for the Lady Lily's turn to approach the ghoul, and Seras recognized her voice as being the one to halt the Lord from biting her just a few hours back. The pitiful creature had stopped for a moment and all eyes turned to the blonde accusingly before it shuffled forward once more, only to be caught by the guards. Lady Lily only had one childe.

The poor Lady looked sick as she covered her mouth and looked upon the male she had treated like her own son. Seras could not tear her gaze away from the scene unfolding before the entire Court, a weight settling atop her head as Baskerville rested his chin upon her possessively.

"Why, Mikael?" Lily asked, her voice but a whisper, "the one thing I ever asked of you!"

Lord Mikael stood straight even as his other family members surrounded him in a wall, preventing any kind of escape attempt, ushering him towards the ghoul who looked upon him like a lost puppy, only certifying his guilt further. He refused to say a word even as the King's men stepped forward to flank him on either side, escorting him to the steps leading up to the throne.

"You stand accused of breaking the King's law," announced one of the guards, a grim look upon his face even as he forced the noble to kneel. "The penalty for disobedience is death or banishment. The King has chosen death. Your sentence shall be carried out forthwith. May you learn your lessons better in your next life."

Deathly silence filled the hall, a single blood tear rolling down Lady Lily's cheek as the swish of the blade cutting through the air sang a death knell. To his credit, Lord Mikael kept his composure until the end, his headless corpse disintegrating into a pile of ash, the head following suit a moment later and the King looked upon the guilty family with a frown. "I expect better of your ilk, Lady, ensure it does not happen again. You are dismissed."

He did not just mean the one family, the entire Court knew that and began to disperse, the servant-turned-bait hurried to her Lord's side as she was released, and Seras watched dispassionately as Lady Lily gathered up a small handful of Mikael's ashes before departing with her family.

When the grand room was empty save for a lingering guard at the doorway, the King looked down upon the human his hound had taken such an interest in. His lips quirked in amusement as he observed how utterly tiny she was compared to the dog. "You trapped that ghoul rather well for a human, do you have much experience with the creatures?" He questioned, and Seras gazed up at him in bafflement at his apparent interest in the topic. She shrugged, as if she had anything to hide from a blood sucker, and answered him truthfully, "Before I came here, m'Lord, I had to learn a few tricks. Most ghouls will take a while to get out of simple traps."

"Do you often take it upon yourself to chase after ghouls and trap them little servant girl?" He chortled, and Seras fought the urge to roll her eyes. "No m'Lord, only if the opportunity arises, m'Lord."

That appeared to be the correct answer, for his laughter increased in volume and Baskerville joined in with a deep bark that vibrated through her bones and made her ears throb in protest.

"Well, little servant girl, I imagine tonight's game should put a damper on your ghoul wrangling adventures. What a pity."

Pity my ass, she snarled mentally, thinking again of life outside this enclosed kingdom. Instead she tipped her head demurely and hummed noncommittally, "As you say, Majesty."

The hour struck, ringing from a distant tower bell, and they both listened to what seemed like endless peals. He chuckled, rubbing his chin as he looked down his nose at her.

"How late it's grown, little servant girl. I'm feeling a bit peckish." She stared at him, wondering if he really meant what he was implying. "Perhaps just a bite of something small..." he leered, leaning over her, a heavy hand falling to the back of her neck. She swallowed thickly as the once almost-comforting bulk of the dog became oppressive, preventing any hint of escape. She fought the fear and panic curdling at the edges of her mind and met the King's burning crimson gaze solemnly.

She couldn't say no to him, nor would she say yes. The gloved hand drew her upwards towards the side of his throne and she balanced on her knees, palms pressed to the edge of the armrest to keep from squishing her breasts uncomfortably against the ornate wood.. Sapphire met ruby, the distance between them shortening until she could feel his cool breath wafting across her cheeks. "This is usually the part where you close your eyes," he teased, fangs gleaming in the light of the empty hall.

Seras remained silent, the splint on her wrist itching madly as a tingle ran up her arm. In an idle corner of her mind, she wondered if the hound had healed her broken bone with his saliva, as she could move her hand more freely than before.

Alucard, the No Life King, ruler of the vampire infestation that had overtaken the world, leaned down to brush chilled lips across her throat, and she flinched. "Such a brave little servant girl," he purred, "I think I like you."

He drew back abruptly and retrieved an empty wine glass from the other side of his throne, dangling it in her face with a cheerful menace. Relieved to fall back into familiar territory, Seras straightened up, drawing her knife from her belt with practiced ease. The cup was placed upon the armrest, gleaming just as evilly as the King's fangs had a moment ago. Gripping the blade loosely in her bad hand, she pressed the underside of her wrist to the honed edge and moved. The old scar split and released a steady stream of crimson into the clear chalice, filling the bowl shape and rising slowly.

Knife dropping from suddenly numb fingers, her vision wavered and swam. She hadn't been lying to Mikael earlier, her body protested the blood loss more violently than she expected. A cool hand gripped her arm and raised it to a pale face, inhumanly long tongue encircling her wrist and slithering up and down to savor the flavor. Seras took a steadying breath and blinked a few times to gaze up at the king with co discernible emotion on her face. She wasn't sure what to feel, really.

He released her and she slumped bonelessly against the side of the hound, needing a longer moment to recover. He said nothing as he raised the glass, as if in a toast, and took a large gulp, draining half the contents in one go. "Delicious."

When she had caught her bearings, she bowed her head submissively in thanks for the compliment, and when she glanced up between her lashes, he waved his hand dismissively at her, allowing her freedom. She murmured a quiet, "m'Lord" before crawling to the edge of the stairs to gain her feet, having grabbed her dropped blade in passing, escaping to the pretend safety of her bedroom. She'd give her kingdom for a good night's sleep.

Dropping face first into her lumpy mattress, Seras Victoria, blood donor-servant of the King's Castle moaned in relief. A light tapping intruded on her thoughts, but she ignored it, and after a moment it went away. She was much too tired to care. Sleep was magical, after all, sleep fixed everything. Everything.