D" for Short

When Integra had pictured what motherhood might be like, she had never envisioned bottles of warm milk laced with human blood, teething rings rendered useless within minutes by sharp canines, or the necessity of blackout curtains in her son's bedroom. Then again, she had never envisioned being impregnated by the vampire servant her father had locked away in the basement, either. The circumstances that had led to her son's birth were so bizarre that even she, the leader of a vampire-hunting organization since childhood, would have scoffed and called the story a fairytale if it had happened to somebody else.

Many mothers might have loathed a child produced from a union with the undead, but Integra treasured her son and was his fiercest protector, even above Alucard. That was why she was distinctly nervous about tonight. Although her child was still a baby—only a few months old—he was to be presented to the queen tonight as Hellsing's heir. The Knights of the Round Table had been opposed to the idea of her carrying the boy to term, let alone grooming him to take her place when she was gone. It had taken the queen's intercession to silence them, but it had also been made clear that what she offered was only a temporary respite. Tonight, the Crown would decide if the child would continue to enjoy royal protection.

“Stop fussing,” said a voice from behind her. Integra was not startled by the sudden intrusion, even though she had been alone in the room and had neither seen nor heard the door open. By now, she was well-used to Alucard's unannounced visits. Red-clad arms circled her waist and pulled her back against a tall, broad-shouldered figure. Integra sighed and pushed out of her vampire's embrace.

“You should be getting ready,” she admonished. “The queen ordered his father's presence, remember?”

“Of course, Master,” he assured her, his gloved fingers trailing up her bare arm to sweep her long hair back behind her shoulder. She wore a simple gown made of cream satin, the low V neckline and narrow shoulder straps its only concessions to modern fashion for women her age. “Such preparations are the work of a moment's thought for me, as you should well know.”

Integra arched an eyebrow. “And our son?”

“As ready as a child his age can be. We are only waiting on you, Integra.” His fingers danced lightly across her throat, and she irritably brushed them away before she snatched her small purse from the dresser.

“I am ready. If you are quite finished playing your games, then I suggest you fetch our child and meet me at the car.” With that, she stalked out of the room, cursing whoever had selected the evening's wardrobe. She hated trying to navigate the manor's stairs in long skirts and high heels.

~*~*~*~

Within half an hour of her arrival at the gala, Integra was prepared to engineer the painful deaths of no fewer than twenty important personages. Amongst their number were men and women who had dared to remark on her child's unusually pale skin, subtly call into question her parenting abilities, or outright disagree with her choice of father for the unconfirmed Hellsing heir. The heir in question had been taken from the room by his father three times already to soothe his tears as Alucard inadvertently allowed his own hostility to overflow into his son's mind. It was surreal to see the vampire in his impeccable black tuxedo rock a squalling infant in his arms.

“I hate this,” Integra muttered through clenched teeth as she forced another smile for one of the dignitaries who acknowledged her from across the room. She had her son in her arms, and was grateful that for now, he was watching the proceedings with a quiet attentiveness that was unusual in children his age.

Alucard was at her side, his hands clasped behind his back, though she was certain he would have preferred to have his arm around her waist. Ordinarily, she would not have cared what others thought, but tonight, she needed to demonstrate that she still had firm control of her vampire, that he had not seduced her to suit his own evil designs. Aware of the potential impact such a display would have on his son's future, Alucard had been perfectly obedient and properly distant since their arrival.

“The evening is going well,” the Midian remarked mildly. “You have so far been spared direct insult or any sort of assassination attempt.”

“You would enjoy it if there were an assassination attempt, wouldn't you?”

Strangely enough, Alucard shook his head, and his expression became somber. “Not this time. It would mean someone seeks my son's death, and that is not something I would take joy in.”

At his words, Integra felt a tiny smile pull at her lips. Since she had discovered her pregnancy, Alucard had displayed an aspect of his character she had only seen from him in rare moments with Seras. It was easy to forget that he had once been mortal and a father. Integra wondered if he had been so solicitous of his human children. She was about to ask when a page stepped forward and cleared his throat politely.

“Sir Hellsing,” he said, remarkably composed for being faced with Hellsing's leader and her imposing servant, “the queen will see you now.”

Integra nodded and wordlessly followed the young man, Alucard trailing at her heels.

The queen was seated, as one might expect, on a dais at the end of the spacious ballroom. Integra gave her son to Alucard and then approached, curtsying since the cut of her gown would not allow for the bow she would have preferred.

“Sir Hellsing,” Her Majesty acknowledged. “I am pleased that you were able to attend this evening.” She paused and looked past the knight. “Your servant may come forward.”

“Alucard,” Integra said, and the vampire moved to her side, smoothly transferring the baby in his arms to Integra's care before he dropped to one knee before the dais.

The queen gestured for the Midian to rise. “Come closer, both of you,” she invited. “I wish to see your son.”

Nervousness settled once again in the pit of Integra's stomach, making her glad that she had not eaten that night. When she got home, she was going to enjoy a nice cup of ginger tea. Pushing aside her discomfort, she drew closer to the queen, holding the child in her arms so the other woman could see him more clearly.

“His name?” the queen asked.

Integra hesitated, and so her vampire answered for her. “Dante Abraham Vlad Dracula Wingates Hellsing.”

“Then I should hope the boy does not get into much trouble as he grows,” the queen remarked dryly. “That is a formidable name to hear your parents shouting when they have discovered the mess you made.”

Alucard chuckled and glanced fondly at the boy. “I expect he will grow into it without many problems.”

A faint smile came to the queen's lips at that, but she quickly sobered. This was not a social event, despite the setting, but a public acknowledgement of where the dhampir child stood in the crown's eyes. “Dante will continue to benefit from my protection,” she informed his parents. “However, I cannot confirm him as your successor. He is too young. There has never been a child like him, and until we know more of the man he will be, it would not be wise to declare him the sole heir of the Hellsing organization. Raise him carefully, Integra.”

“I understand, Your Majesty,” Integra replied, bowing her head in acknowledgement.

“Very good. Now then, I imagine you would like to get him home. Functions such as these are no place for children.”

Integra and Alucard took their leave of the queen and the other guests, and the vampire sent for the car as he helped his master into her coat. Within a few minutes, they were both seated in the back of the limousine, and Alucard was giving Dante his bottle. Integra sighed as she leaned her head back against the leather upholstery and closed her eyes. “That could have gone better,” she muttered.

“Could it have?” Alucard replied, eyebrows arched in skepticism. “As comforting as it might have been for you to have the queen acknowledge our child as your successor, she made the only decision she could have.”

“I know, but I had still hoped … ”

“So had I, but she is right. We have no way of knowing what Dante will be like.” He smirked as the boy finished his meal and grinned, displaying tiny fangs. “Personally, I rather hope he takes after his mother.”