My first fanfiction ever, and therefor also the first fanfiction I have yet ever uploaded anywhere.
I truly want comments and critisism, but because of the reasons just named, and because my original language is not English, please bare with me and be gentle.
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The sky broke open, and everything glistered golden in the afternoon suns late glow, covered in the droplets of rain from the short shower just a half hour earlier.
Even now, she noticed how beautiful the white church and the many gravestones looked, lightened by the golden sunset, against the heavy lead-grey sky.
She felt Walter place his gloved hand gently and comforting on her shoulder, and she withdrew her attention from the skies to the gravestones in front of her.
Abraham Hellsing.
Her last name looked ever so beautiful carved into the marble. So proud, so rebellious. The thought alone made her want to cry, to sob, and hide in, well, her father's arms. But there were no more tears left, she had emptied herself in the church to the hymns. She hadn't sung at all, she had just sobbed quietly, tears running freely down her chins, and her right hand clenched around Walters, as he sung for both of them. He actually had a beautiful singing voice. Rather light, when trying to reach the tones, a little raspy. But not bad at all.
Now there were only empty silence as she dropped her blood-red rose down the grave, seeing it landing on top of the white coffin. She then stood back, and let the strangers in their expensive black and grey suits and dresses gather around the grave, paying their final respect to her father, the former leader of Hellsing.
What hurt even more was that the white marble gravestone with her fathers name so beautifully engraved in, was not the only stone they looked at, that they gave the respect that any deceased deserved. Painfully close to her fathers tombstone, a equally large and new one, also in white marble, rested. Baring her uncles name.
He didn't belong there. When she had first heard of it, she had clenched her jaw in rage. She wanted him to be tossed in the dirt outside the graveyard, where gods mercy could never reach him, she wanted his body pecked to pieces by black ravens.
She wanted biblical punishment over him.
But right then, she didn't care anymore.
She closed her eyes and sighed, and Walter tugged her shoulder shortly, comforting, before he removed his hand, folding it within the other in front of him.
To the left of her father's grave was yet another tombstone, with a small white pigeon, beautifully handcrafted, sitting on top of it, bending its head towards the engraving, as if reading it.
She remembered adoring that pigeon, she even remembered petting the ice cold silky stone-feathers on its back, as a very little girl, when visiting this grave with her father. Her mothers tombstone.
People began leaving, forming a line towards her, shaking her hand in condolence.
She could see it their eyes. Pity.
That little girl. Standing there in her black dress, shiny shoes and small black hat.
They were sorry for her, but in a patronizing way,
She didn't say anything, she just stood there with a empty look in her eyes, nodding, as they mumbled how they were sorry.
She just wanted to go home. She wanted to turn around and never see these people again.
After a couple of minutes almost everyone was gone. They went to the parking lot, starting their cars, driving home to their homes and families, after this short glimpse of death and sorrow.
There were still some people lingering around, and Integra stood still, trying to get herself together, readying herself for her final goodbye with her father, readying herself to go home, mother- and fatherless.
As she once again read the engraving on her fathers stone, two of the mourning guests approached her.
Members of The Round Table.
"We are very sorry for your loss Integra."
Integra noticed with mild irritation how they spoke to her as Integra, and not as Mrs. Hellsing.
She nodded and said thanks, hoping they as well would leave now.
"Not only did you loose your father, Hellsing lost a great leader."
She looked up at them, pleased that they at least acknowledged her father.
"Yes," the other of the two responded. "God knows what will happen to Hellsing now."
"Yes. Well, I'll say we better find a new leader, and that's as soon as possible."
The other nodded, looking into the sunset, squinting his eyes with a careless gesture, as if they were simply talking about the weather.
"Or maybe give the organisation over to the government, something like that."
She couldn't believe her ears, and the shock over the repulsive things they said delayed her respond by several seconds, which let them continue their ignorant conversation. Here they were, standing at her fathers grave. At her uncle's grave, whom had died because of his greed after the Hellsing orginazation, which she had protected with her life, and whom she had seen necessary to kill, to fulfil this duty that her father honourably had passed on to her.
And here these men, these arrogant strangers were, talking about how they could take this away from her, 'ease' her from this pressure.
Clearly they thought it had only been selfdefense that had driven her to shoot her own uncle, her only family left. That it had not also been to protect the organization, her organization.
She could feel how Walter also grow angry, and she heard him take a breath, with the purpose of setting these people in their place.
Quickly, she interrupted him.
"Gentlemen. I would kindly ask of you to pay my father respect at his grave, and not talk about how to replace him when he is not even buried decent yet. As for Hellsings future" she continued, controlling her anger, talking in a controlled and cold manner "I would say that we discuss that on the next Round Table meeting that is on Thursday, as you might remember. Now you can stay and pay your final respect, but I will ask of you to excuse me, I will be leaving home now, I have a organization to run."
She nodded to both of them, and turned around, walking towards the parking lot.
As she quickly went past Walter she saw the surprise in his eyes, but also, a strong sparkle of awe.
He followed her to the car, all the time a respectful distant behind her, making clear that she was the master, and he was the butler.
"Walter." She said, glancing into the sunset.
"I need a suit."