A/N: Just what will happen to Vlad? What about Integra and Seras? Ladislaus and Matthias? And what of the war? MMM, yummy character development!
Disclaimer: I do NOT, in any way, own Hellsing or the characters in it. It is owned by Kohta Hirano, Dark Horse Manga, and any other business or people who assisted in creating these fascinating characters!
.•*´¨`*•.
Clarification
Integra and Seras both woke up the next morning groggily. Each rubbed their eyes and stumbled out of their separate beds half-awake, their hair a tangled mess of curls. Fortunately, Walter was already at the door with a tray of breakfast waiting. Integra did the honors of opening the door to her servant, and upon the action, he could almost not stifle a laugh at their appearance.
"Is that really necessary?" Integra frowned, in no mood to joke at what she looked like.
"No, my Lady," Walter cleared his throat, and a serious face returned all too quickly. He walked in and set the tray of food down on one of the many tables peppered throughout the vast room. The girls returned to their beds with the trays in their hands and plopped down onto fluffed pillows.
"Walter, how was last night?" Integra began to eat her morning vegetables.
He sat down in one of the chairs next to Integra's bed and cocked his head slightly to one side. "Well, considering the fact that I worked the whole day in the kitchen, helped prepare almost every single meal that ended up on the center table, and then watched the party crash with still a sweet desert awaiting…I'd say that Karma finally caught up with me."
Seras giggled and chewed on another piece of bread, "What about the clean up? Integra made us leave early," she shot her older sister an angry glance.
"I had to. It was already way past evening and we had to head off for our bed chambers. It was bad enough that you had to watch-" Integra stopped herself, but not fast enough.
Walter raised his chin up and smiled, "I see. So then, these questions would have no doubt led to the prisoner…"
Integra made a face, "Undoubtedly. How could I have rest knowing that someone in this Kingdom from the Order was beheaded by our own father, practically son of the Order's creator? I had to defend his right to live."
"Of course," Walter continued to smile politely, though something in it made Integra frown.
"And what of Pip?" Seras interrupted, "Does no one care for a man who was following the law loyally? Are we all going to simply care for the prisoners who convert to Christianity?"
Walter let his eyebrows raise considerably at her sharp tone. "Beg pardon?"
"Seras," Integra stood up to brush her hair out, "Our prisoner never had to convert to Christianity; he was already a Christian. The man was never an Ottoman. He's a part of the Order of the Dragon, but clearly you don't understand what that fully means."
"Then would you mind clearing it up?" she asked, finishing off her bread.
"Their mission is to destroy the Ottomans, down to the very last man. And I doubt, since they took him away from his family, that he would consider going back," Integra stated, but with little conviction. Even hearing herself defend the roguish man didn't seem to hold much weight on its own. No, she needed proof.
Walter cleared his throat, "If I may…"
"You may always speak, Walter," Integra hid a smile.
"Though Sir Vlad might seem trustworthy and devoted to the Order, I believe there is something you should know for further reference."
Both girls stopped their actions and turned fully around to see their servant. His tone suggested that what was about to come could be a tidal wave of knowledge.
"Sir Vlad's father…" Walter stopped and reconsidered his opening words, "In 1442, an army in league with Hungary drove out Sir Vlad III's father, Lord Vlad II, from Wallachia. The only reason why Lord Vlad II gained Ottoman support was because of this raid, and because of Lord Vlad II's hatred of Lord John Hunyadi, your father. The Ottomans entrusted Lord Vlad II of their support to him, but they also forced Lord Vlad II to give to their Sultan his sons, Sir Vlad III and Sir Radu, as insurance that he would stay loyal to the Ottomans."
"So that is the full story," Seras gasped, making her way to Integra's bed.
Integra took in a deep breath and scooted over to give her sister room, "So then, to Sir Vlad, our prisoner, Hungary is the reason why he was taken hostage. Hungary is the reason for all of his family's pain and suffering. Hungary is the reason why he is who he is now."
"Precisely," Walter nodded, "That is why I wish for you two to stay as far away from him as possible. Do not let him know of your presence, do you understand?"
Integra's heart skipped a beat as she glanced at Seras. She shook her head violently as her younger sister cleared her throat to speak: it was too late.
"Walter, I think that will be a little difficult now since Integra is the reason why Sir Vlad is alive," Seras paused, realizing that she had betrayed her sister.
"Seras—" Integra started.
"What?" he whispered, his darkening eyes on her within an instant.
"I…I may have convinced my father to reconsider Sir Vlad's death sentence…" the elder sister stared at the ground.
"Integra," Walter's voice was so deep it resembled a growl, "Do you know who that man is?"
"Do you?" Integra asked, lifting up her head.
Walter swallowed, his jaw tightening. "Yes."
"Care to be more specific?" her voice mirrored sarcastic curiosity. She didn't appreciate her servant's tone with her nor did she enjoy the fact that he seemed about to verbally attack her judgment.
"I…" Walter swallowed again, but then sorrow seemed to blanket his gray eyes, "Because I was there. I was in the army that raided and drove out Lord Vlad II; I saw it all, and heard it all at the dear age of fifteen and a half."
"WHAT?" Seras squeaked, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.
"And thus, the truth is revealed," Integra smiled triumphantly.
"Integra, my Lady, this is not some debate; this is a man most dangerous to your safety, as well as your family's safety. There is no knowing what goes on in that man's mind. If you believe that you are a mystery with your clever wit and glib tongue, then he is the enigma of all mysteries," Walter clenched his fists slightly, but managed to place both hands underneath the tabletop.
"Sounds like you could learn from him," Seras whispered into Integra's ear.
"Or die from him," Walter bowed his head until his chin rested upon his chest, "Promise me you won't go looking for him."
"Walter, I-"
"Promise me!" he yelled, looking up into her crystal blue eyes.
They looked so innocent to him, still so full of youth and ideas soon to be crushed. He knew of her potential, how she could manage a way out of any argument, even with her own father, and come out unscathed. She was brilliant -too brilliant. There were dangers she could not yet comprehend; evils in the world she had not yet witnessed; renegades she had not yet seen. He cared about her deeply, like a brother would a sister, and all he wanted -all he cared for- was for her to understand his logic; just once, without challenging him.
Integra jumped at his strong, demanding voice. He had never quite yelled at her like that before. "I promise, Walter."
Relief washed over his face as he picked up the trays and headed for the door. Silence followed him as he took one last glance at his two masters. His eyes apologized, with their downcast look when he reached for the doorknob. But then, he hesitated and turned back around.
"Lady Integra, Lady Seras, I will pray that he is on our side. But for now, we are all walking on eggshells with him."
.•*´¨`*•.
"Would you quit muttering to yourself?" Pip shouted. The prisoner was finally on his last nerve, and sadly, there were no drinks left. The other two guards had passed out from lack of sleep. Pip was beginning to feel sleep deprivation as well when he began to hear voices. Soon, he realized that it was just Vlad. Wait, that's right. It was 'Sir Vlad', or, even better, 'Lord Vlad'; fat chance anyone would call him the latter.
The muttering ceased, if only for one glorious moment. Then, it returned. Pip, rolling his eyes, stood up, grabbed his shield and sword, and turned the corner to face Vlad. The man was collapsed face first on the floor with his arms stretched out in an attempt to reach the bars of the dungeon. Pip was taken aback by Vlad's appearance, suddenly realizing that his needs, like food and water, had not been met the previous night.
The loyal guard remembered Vlad's tattered clothes and the fact that he could barely walk. His keen eyes and clever tongue displaced his weak disposition. Now, there was hardly anything left within that man, presently in a heap before Pip. He scratched his head, wondering if retrieving a pail of water was dutifully correct. Pip weighed his options: if he did bring water back, Vlad would survive, sadly. But if he didn't, then the regent-governor of Hungary would be furious that he didn't get to execute the man…or perhaps pardon the man. The Lord might even turn to Pip and execute him for letting Vlad die.
Pip took one last look at Vlad and set off for a pail. He woke up one of the guards for safety, in case this was all an act on Vlad's part. The guard then left the dungeon and walked outside, into the light. The sun instantly warmed his cheeks and his body as he smiled and stretched off the night, closing the door shut. The day was hardly cloudy and the castle's stone walls stood beautifully against the blue sky. He headed off to a nearby well and reached for a pail hanging on the side.
"Lord Ladislaus," Pip called from afar. The son turned around from his horse and waved across the courtyard. The young man walked over with his mount trailing behind. Pip smiled once more as Ladislaus stopped in front of the well, letting his horse sniff it with curiosity.
"Is there something you need, my friend?" the nobleman asked as the clanking of his armor filled the silence for a moment.
"I was wondering if your father was going to show up at the dungeon and declare his decision…" Pip trailed off while also nudging the horse away as he pumped up some water.
"Ah, that," Ladislaus's voice fell an octave, "I believe he was headed down there sometime today, though I don't know what his order will be. For this kingdom's sake, I hope that man is executed before nightfall."
"As do I," Pip lied. There was something about that man, something that Pip wanted to understand. He was extremely complicated, and there was only one way to learn from Vlad: let him live and teach Pip the art of fighting. Certainly if Vlad had journeyed this far, he knew what it took to survive as a soldier, and Pip longed to know how.
Ladislaus nodded and pulled his horse away from the well with a smile, "I am off to quell an uprising in one of the lower towns. Already, the Kingdom knows of Sir Vlad's return here. They are absolutely furious, some of them." The noble mounted his steed, shut his visor, and galloped off in a cloud of dust.
Pip coughed and swore at the animal's speed, covering the pail quickly from the dust as ten more soldiers galloped past to accompany the Lord. However, the guard successfully made it back to the stuffy dungeon and opened the door with his keys. It opened and closed swiftly and Pip shuffled back to Vlad's cell. He was still lying there, only the whispering had ceased. Pip unlocked the door and hit the bars with his boot. Vlad made no motion but did grumble at the cacophony.
"Ah, good. You're still alive," Pip set the pail down next to Vlad and moved back to lock the door.
"Barely," Vlad whispered, letting one arm curl around the pail and bring it to his head. He struggled to sit up, but managed by propping himself against the wall. He then brought the pail onto his lap and cupped his hands. Water sank into them and was just as quickly swallowed by a dehydrated prisoner. The cold texture sent shocks of life electrocuting within Vlad as his face then dove into the pail and drank.
Pip smiled and sat back down around the corner, letting his eyes fall back down slightly. He started to hear Vlad whisper once more; and this time, Pip grinned.
.•*´¨`*•.
"And Ladislaus is away crushing a mini uprising in Bagamér," Lord Anderson finished, glancing one last time at his list.
"That boy wishes to save the world of its treachery," the regent shook his head. "Is there anything else?"
Lord Anderson nodded, "There is the separate matter of dealing with a certain prisoner you have yet to execute."
The regent laughed, "Yes, I suppose there is. But I've thought about this predicament, and it could change in my favor. Perhaps I give him a means to conquering more land. Maybe I'll give him a small amount of men and see how he fights within my borders."
"My Lord, what do you mean?" the advisor asked.
"You told me that Ladislaus is off crushing an uprising against Sir Vlad. What if we send Sir Vlad off to stop more uprisings so that we can focus our troops on the Ottomans?"
Anderson scrunched his face. "I don't know, your Lordship…The thought of having him run about in our country makes my stomach turn. Besides, who's to say that he won't kill everyone who opposes him? We may as well write those villagers death sentences."
"It makes my stomach turn as well. But I don't believe I should execute my most valuable asset to killing the Ottomans just yet, Alexander."
"Then let him rot in his cell, my Lord. He need not step one foot outside of it for the rest of his life," Anderson moved forward to open another window.
The regent suddenly grinned, "Now there's an idea." But then, his grin fell as fast as it had come. "No, no that would not work. Eventually, Sir Vlad would stop telling us what we needed. Then we would have to execute him, and if we didn't our relationship with Sir Vlad would have soured so much that he might tell us wrong information to harm our soldiers."
Anderson chuckled, "Then just kill him now and get this over and done with. If he's going to be more trouble than his life is worth, then why let him continue to live?"
"Exactly for the point you made yesterday at the party," the governor sighed and sat down in a chair. The room had brightened considerably as the windows let rays of sunshine cast through.
Anderson turned to face the regent-governor again and saw an old soul. He sat down with rumpled clothes too rich to bear an old man's weight. The Lord looked pale, almost ill from years of running with the politics of war and country. His eyes had faded to a blue-gray, still sharp, but they had lost their edge years ago to older age. Even though the man was in his mid forties, white hairs threatened his scalp in the corners of his face. His mustache and beard were already graying as well. Lord Anderson, his royal advisor, blinked at the old man now so easily consumed by one prisoner. And suddenly, it hit him: the Lord was getting too old for his job, and too weak.
"Exactly for the point that Integra used against you yesterday in defending Sir Vlad's life: my disintegrating soldiers," he continued.
"That girl does not know when she's playing with fire," Anderson muttered.
"Integra follows her gut instinct, when all other diplomacy fails," the regent defended lightly. "But that is beside this point. The Ottomans are stronger than ever now, and we need a strategy. Sir Vlad could be that strategy."
Anderson scoffed softly and folded his arms, "Surely you aren't thinking of entrusting Sir Vlad with the lives of your men. He is fickle, a renegade, a rogue, if not still allied with the Ottomans."
The Lord threw his hands up in despair, "So what am I to do then, Alexander? I am damned if I do execute him and I am damned if I don't."
The royal advisor was silenced into thinking once more. He desperately tried to think up a plan, anything that meant avoiding Vlad's involvement. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind and he stood there watching his own ruler thinking the same problems. Both men looked at the other and smiled at their minds' failures.
"I suppose you could wring him dry of all the information you need, and then kill him," Anderson tried, his brain already hurting.
"No," the Lord objected, "The minute I ask for something, he will want something in return before he even tells me what I need."
"The one thing you can use to your advantage is the fact that you both want the Sultan to die. If you can figure a way to use that to propel him forward in cooperating, then you've won the game before it's even started," Anderson tried again. This time, the Lord's face lit up into a bright grin.
"I believe you are very correct, Alexander," he rubbed his hands together, "Then perhaps if we lay down some bait…"
Anderson smiled, "Just what are you thinking, my Lord?"
.•*´¨`*•.
Integra and Seras walked together across the courtyard in flowing dresses that were both a beautiful peach color. They ruffled gently in the breeze as did their blonde hair. Like twins, the girls were almost the same height and almost the same body type, though Integra had always been skinnier than Seras. They seemed to be going for an afternoon stroll when Integra paused at the sight of a hidden door covered in vines.
The elder sister saw Walter tending to the needs of the barn animals such as the cows and sheep across the yard. Both girls looked to their sides and then lightly brushed aside the greenery, pushing the door open and entering. Integra almost gasped at the wonderful sight; it was a huge target practice range for archers and for swordsmen. It must have been used for training sites and for knights before battles. There were dummies made of hay bales clothed with ragged shirts and there were bulls eye clothes that were peppered with holes in them.
"Integra look as this!" Seras gasped and picked up a bow.
Something shiny caught Integra's eye as she looked down to the ground: a sword. Someone must have left it sticking up out of the ground. She glanced around and took a step toward it, lifting it up gently and examining the silver blade from every angle.
"It's beautiful," she picked it up from the hilt and grasped it with her right hand. Her mouth lifted into a smile and felt herself gravitate toward one of the hay bales.
"Woohoo!" Seras aimed her bow with an arrow and fired at a target. The shot ran right through one of the hay bales in the head; it toppled over into a mound of straw.
Integra's mouth dropped, turning around to face her sister, "Where did you learn to shoot like that?"
Seras giggled, "From you. I saw Walter teaching you how so I guess I just picked it up."
"But I had much more difficulty at archery. It took me weeks to hit a hay bale, much less through the head," Integra turned to another one, looking down at her own weapon. "I was always far better at sword fighting." She saluted the dummy and shouted, "On Guard!" slicing it this way and that. She practiced her footwork, making sure that she didn't stumble in her gracefulness. The clothes easily tore off of the hay and straw flew in patches across the yard. Seras watched in awe as her sister tore up another dummy on the target range.
"Wow, you look like a professional," Seras shook her head in disbelief.
To finish the bale off, Integra sliced its head off in one graceful motion, grinning the whole time. "Thank you. It took years for me to look this good."
Both girls paused, looking the target range over with anticipated delight. They started to imagine this place as their secret hide-out to practice and improve their skills. Integra always wanted to become a knight, though the law dictated women couldn't. The same could be said for Seras, but she wished to be an archer. Wherever Integra ventured, Seras wished to follow. The girls longed for adventure, for a journey away from the Hungarian castle, almost like a caged bird. Integra felt that Vlad might be able to offer them an adventure. After all, he needed their help and they needed his. Integra would be prepared to go off and assist Vlad in reclaiming his honor, knowing she was not frightened by him. She knew one thing about caged birds: they needed wings.
"Integra! What are you doing?" Walter ran to her in shock, "I thought I told you not to practice in public!"
She smiled, "Sorry, I found this secret door covered in ivy so I thought I'd investigate."
Walter smirked, "Well, no door goes unopened without you knowing about it. I swear, nothing can pass that mind of yours." But then he noticed Seras in the distance and his face soured once more. "What is your sister doing?"
Integra raised her chin proudly, "She's practicing the art of archery."
Walter saw Seras hit another target square in the chest. His jaw dropped.
"Mine did too," Integra laughed, "She's the best I've ever seen."
Walter blinked and turned back around to Integra, "Why I…There's…What did…How come…"
"She's a natural," Integra chuckled, sticking her sword's blade in the ground.
Walter nodded but pointed, "This is why you cannot go around blithely shooting and slaying things. You both are too good to be seen, and though I may be very good at controlling rumors, if someone actually sees you two practicing out here, I cannot deny it. And what's worse, it will come back and bite me since I am the only one who could possibly be forced into teaching you archery and swordsmanship."
"Walter," Integra covered his mouth, "Calm down, no one can see us from this angle. The only building that is closest to us is that one," she pointed to a rundown building with chips in the sides of its walls. The roof almost looked as if it would cave in at any moment and kill anyone alive in there.
"And that would be the dungeon," Walter answered, suddenly catching himself. "Another reason why you must leave!" he threw up his hands and began to escort Seras and Integra out of the range.
"Ah, I see. So that is where they are keeping the prisoner," Seras gasped. Her older sister smiled.
"My Ladies," Walter began in a forced soothing voice, "There is the door," he pointed to the ivy covered portal and waved goodbye, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to clean up this mess before anyone comes looking around at the damage."
Integra and Seras let themselves out and slammed the door shut. They paused around the back corner and smiled to the other. One thing was certain: they would be back again to practice some more, and when they did, perhaps they would be able to see Sir Vlad. Seras was more excited to see the man than Integra was; but a certain quality about the prisoner had her completely vexed: his mind. She needed to know how to control him, especially for her father's use and for her country's use. Somehow, she knew he could help, though she knew not yet how.
.•*´¨`*•.
Starting to see the Hellsing resemblance? Hahahaha That last paragraph that I wrote made me go "ooohhhhhhhhh…(smack) DUH!" :)
~One last thing: I'm leaving for vacation soon, so this may be my last chapter for a while. I will be gone for a month, but will be back in July! I know this story is in its early stages, but don't give up hope! I've only JUST begun with this one (muhaha)~
to Rosegurl1:I'm so elated I finally found another who enjoys history as much as I do! :D Thank you for taking the time to write a long review! It always boosts the writer's confidence. I'm glad you think they're in character. I tried to make them similar, but have room for more growth. After all, everyone right now is so young. Seras is like 15, Integra 17, and Vlad like 20. Walter is like 25-27. In the years to come, they will grow and learn. I hope you continue to like the story, and feel free to keep commenting on it :)
to Soul93: It was tricky to keep them almost the same, and then add different elements to the story. Such as a different time setting (the 1400s) I can't wait for the chapters to come, and I hope you enjoy Vlad's appearance in this chapter.
to eyes of sin: Hahahaha! My weakness are bloddy romances too. But they have to be done tastefully, for me, otherwise my stomach groans :) I absolutely love writing war stories and war romances. That's what this story is going to be about: Vlad and Isana learning from one another and growing to accept friendship...and possibly more than that XP
to Yogo Hakamadare: Hey thanks! Hope you liked Vlad's theatrical appearance too.