Author's Note: I've hit a bit of writer's block for my story Tilt, so while I have been struggling with my muse, I've been working on this in my spare time~ I love Hellsing and this little AU popped into my head: Yes, Integra is a bit younger in this than in the manga, but it worked better with the plot I have planned.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy~!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing.
Chapter 1: The King
Yet again, Integra found herself unable to sleep. Her fingers drummed silently against her stomach as her eyes traced the cracks in the ceiling. The building was eerily silent, even given the time of night: not a breeze of the wind nor a creak from the foundation. Simply silence.
She turned ten years old tonight. Had someone asked her how she felt about this a year ago, she would have been exuberant over the prospect. Double digits: a major milestone in the eyes of most children.
She had often imagined the party: not a huge celebration, just something simple and meaningful shared between the inhabitants of the manor. The staff and soldiers would send her well wishes, the few that she spoke to more often might even bring her cards or small trinkets as gifts. Walter would certainly have arranged a cake to be made, her favorite, even: vanilla with fresh, ripe strawberries. Her mouth watered at the thought.
And her father. Despite his failing health, Sir Hellsing would not have simply sat back: he would put on a show of spirit for her, pretending to be better just for her sake. He would have done everything in his power to make her feel as happy and carefree as he could. If he had his way, this day would have been perfect.
Too bad he was dead.
She rolled on her side, the bed creaking and groaning under her weight despite her small size. Her longs bangs fell over her eyes, obscuring her vision, but she did not bother to brush them aside. Without her glasses on, everything was a blur anyway. Though, blurry her vision may be, she could see well enough to acknowledge the spikey blonde haired head as it poked up over the edge of her mattress.
"Can't sleep either?"
Integra sat up and frowned, eyeing the young girl. "Seras, you need to stop climbing up the bunks in the middle of the night," she scolded in a hushed voice. "You are going to fall one day."
She could not quite see the girl's expression, but the young Hellsing could make out her head tilting down, bangs falling over her doe like eyes. "…I had the nightmare again."
Instantly, Integra's expression softened towards the younger girl. She should be used to this by now. Though not as often as it was in the first few months, the routine still held true at least once each week. Shifting over, she patted the mattress beside her, letting Seras know that it was alright to come up.
The girl on the ladder then quickly tossed her lumpy pillow and old worn quilt that she lugged up along with her onto the top cot with practiced ease scrambling up over the edge as well. Fluffing her pillow quickly, she wrapped herself in her quilt before scooting up to nestle into the older girl's side for comfort. "Thank you, Sir!"
Integra hummed at the address, adjusting her head back on her own pillow. "Get some sleep, Police Girl," she stated blandly, though a bit of friendly affection slipped into the nickname.
Silence fell between the two girls, for a few minutes at least. Then, in a quiet, hesitant tone, the younger girl spoke. "Integra—"
"You wish to hear another, hmm?"
"Yes please!" she eagerly replied. "Just one please!"
Groaning, Integra firmly stated, "Just one. Then, sleep. Understood?" Despite the rapid bob of the girl's head, Integra knew that she would be telling stories until the younger girl fell asleep. Which could be anywhere from five minutes to half the bloody night. "What do you want to hear?"
"Tell me more about him!"
"Your king again?" she asked in exasperation, knowing exactly who the blonde was asking about. "Why do you always ask about him? Why not the hunter?"
"The hunter is scary," she replied simply.
"And he isn't?"
"The hunter seems cold and mean. The king sounds… better."
"Fine, fine: another one, hmm? I'm going to run out of stories at this rate." Shifting to get more comfortable while Seras snuggled into her side, she affectionately stroked the younger girl's hair before speaking. "Another tale about your king… the king of vampires."
And so, she wove her tale, telling of the fallen "hero", or at least, that's how Integra portrayed him, for Seras' sake. The younger girl listened, enraptured by the story, and vaguely, Integra wondered if this is what it had been like for her father all those years ago, when he first began telling her these tales. They were dark and twisted, a sense of morbidity woven through them, but that suited the two girls just fine. Each had seen darkness before, and neither were afraid to simply hear about it.
They just lost themselves into the stories, forgetting the world around them. They forgot about the old, creaky bunks they slept in; they forgot about the dozens of bunks surrounding them, each filled with a child; and they forgot about why they were there, these lost orphans without a home.
They did not think about any of it in that moment. Just the story. The story, and the tragic Vampire King.