What would she have done?
The woman allowed a small sigh to escape her lips, as the thought echoed through the corridors of her mind. A world to protect, to keep innocent—that was her lot. The dark hallways outside of her office held no other stirring person. She was the singular person awake at this time…unless you counted the vampire.
"Vampire." A deep, feminine voice said, soft English accent permeating through the word.
"Master."
"You knew her. What was she like? What would she have done?"
The vampire studied her carefully, then drifted across the room to the fireplace, where he paused. His eyes studied the stone for several moments before transferring to the blonde woman at the desk.
"She was beautiful. Her hair, like yours, was blonde. She's where your father got it from, where you got if from, and where your children will probably get it from. Her skin was smooth like porcelain, and her eyes…Clear and bright like crystals. You could see the intelligence there. It was best for others to take that intelligence seriously right off, because she was not one to tolerate being slighted," he paused, issuing forth a soft, barking laugh. "No, she wasn't. Underestimating her was never a good idea, though many did simply by virtue of her being a woman. Your grandfather recognized the worth of that spirit, though. When the time came that he asked her to marry him, she knew what she had to do, accepting the responsibilities that came with it. She was strong. It was as if there was a rod of iron in place of a spine at times, but she had a bigger heart than many would ever know. There was so much love there…like you, really. There is much of her in you. Your smile is quite like hers, your mannerisms. It was a shame she didn't smile more often. When she did, the whole room lit up. When it was a real smile, anyway. There was a smirk she used far more commonly, but that's quite beside the point. She was tough, but fair. She never demanded more of others than she was willing to give of herself, although as the lady of the house there were limitations set on that. She would've, though. Anything she asked them to do, were she able, she would have done herself. Not a single soldier died that she didn't mourn. When she entered a room, she dominated it. It was an unspoken superiority that even the most stuck up of noblemen were hard-pressed to ignore. Her presence..her strength of mind…were unequaled."
The woman tapped her cigar on the ashtray, dropping the loose ash from the end of it. The gloved hand twirled it between her fingers, before lifting it to her lips again. "And what would she have done?"
"It's not to ask what she would have done, but rather what she did. It's obvious the choice she made. She accepted the man's proposal and continued the line. This organization wouldn't exist today if she hadn't. It was a hard choice for her, to be sure. She gave up so much in doing so. Yet never once did I hear her complain, never once did she show any regrets. She cared for the family they produced, and did her duty by them."
The firelight reflected in his morose crimson eyes, and there they remained in silence, save for the clock ticking away the minutes. Occasionally he would raise a hand to the mantle of the fireplace as if to smooth the grain of it. His eyes avoided her entirely, though she studied him intently. The red coat, the boots, the raven hair, all familiar. But now there was a defeated element in his posture, as if he recognized he was willingly handing away something that should belong to him, knowing that he had no other choice but to do so.
"You miss her."
A small, self mocking smile curved his lips. "You cannot miss someone who never left."
"She did leave. She died. Surely you of all people must understand that concept."
"No, master, she didn't. She's still here. Every time I see your face, Integral, every time you make a choice, every move you make, I see her. No one in the world could replace her, but she's still here. A person's spirit can linger in those they leave behind, and as long as your spirit mirrors hers, she will never be gone."
Hellsing's director let out a sigh. "Then what you are telling me to do is accept his proposal."
"That's your choice to make, not mine, Master."
"But you will abide by my decision without complaint."
He tipped his head to her. "I would dream of nothing else, my master, even if I could." A smirk played at the corners of his lips. "After all, I will always hold precedence over him in this household. He did not fight away your fears nor stand behind you when you first took headship. Whether you like it or not, I will always be far more useful and meaningful to you than he."
"You seem so certain of yourself." She remarked dryly.
He chuckled darkly. "You are not the first Integral I will have lost to another, nor will your loss be the hardest to bear. The result will be the same, regardless. He will serve his purpose, and I will remain closest to you."
"Did you care very much for her, and she for you?"
His eyes clouded, then cleared as he locked her in a steady gaze. "No." Without another word, he turned and exited. She watched him go with a heavy mind.
oooo
A shadowed figure knelt before a grave in the moonlight. A name was inscribed clearly on the headstone.
Integral Fairbrooke Wingates Hellsing
"Forgive me, Integra, for I have lied…"