A/N: Practice clears the mind, yet invites trouble along with it…apparently…

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!

.•*´¨`*•.

Practice

"Tell Lord Vladislav II that I can spare another battalion of men for him, but no more," The Regent dug his fingers into his scalp, clearly frustrated, "He needs to unify Wallachia, and quickly."

Anderson bowed to that and shifted around more papers. Thumbing through more documents, he pulled out another sheet of paper, "Ah, also, the village of Bagamér is acting up again. There have reportedly been fights, looting, and protests against your regency over The Kingdom of Hungary. A messenger delivered it on this morn."

The Regent yanked on his growing dark brown hair until he could feel individual strands snap, "I thought we crushed that uprising. I thought Ladislaus took care of it," he turned sharply to Vlad, "I thought you took care of it."

Vlad brushed the comment aside easily, "My Lord, Ladislaus and I would have, were it not for the imminent trouble of the Ottoman army we found out about. Ladislaus had been crushing the uprising for two days when I arrived. Then we caught word of the Ottomans sneaking around. That was when we sent Andor to investigate, only he came back to us pierced by a crossbow. From there on out, it seemed pretty clear where we needed to place our priorities."

Anderson narrowed his eyes at his second advisor, "It seems everywhere you go there are Ottomans on your heels."

"Well, if I recall what happened last time correctly, you and the Regent actually set me up to face Radu in the hopes that I would either die, or join them. What you were not counting on was the feverish loyalty I have for the Order of the Dragon," Vlad did not even look at Anderson and kept his eyes leveled on his ruler.

"Yet you do not deny the fact that Radu might compromise the ending of a battle. After all, you did take mercy on him," Anderson shut his notes and adjusted the cross around his neck, staring at the back of Vlad's head in an open glare.

Vlad turned very slowly around and met Anderson's gaze with a look of calm rage, "The most you could ever distort what happened is to say that I 'spared' Radu. I do not take mercy on my enemy. We were outnumbered by at least three to one and their foot artillery arrived. I had two options: die in a futile attempt to kill my brother, or flee as…" Vlad turned to the Regent, "…your son did. So, my dear Royal Vizier…" he turned back around, "…if you wish to give someone a lashing with that blunt tongue, then I suggest you turn to Ladislaus since it was he who made the order to attack head on."

"He told me what happened," The ruler stated defensively, "I am not saying that I respect his decision, and I had a very long talk with him. Gentlemen," his voice suddenly sounded of diplomatic velvet, "I thought we were passed all of this childish back and forth bickering, or should I leave and return tomorrow?"

"No, my Lord," Anderson quickly reassured, "My apologies, but I still have doubts about this man." He nodded to the Wallachian.

Vlad snickered gruffly, "Just as I have my doubts about your competence."

Anderson twitched, but stood still, "I will have a word with you after this meeting." His eyes almost seemed to grow a shade darker to match his menacing tone.

"Gentlemen," The Regent warned.

The Wallachian sighed theatrically, "We could duel right now, if you so wished my fellow advisor," Vlad taunted. When Anderson stood there with remarkable self-restraint, Vlad shrugged and turned back to The Regent, "My Lord, might I suggest stationing soldiers there permanently? It would certainly help in preventing another uprising, but it would also keep a few extra pairs of eyes fixed on the border between our territory and the Ottoman's."

He nodded.

"If there is anything I know about the Ottomans, it is that they thrive on finding any weak spots in your borders and exploit them to the fullest extent. We want to make sure that they focus their troops elsewhere. So long as they believe that we are a force of equal strength to their own, they will not waste more men in trying to conquer Hungary; and the sooner we accomplish this, the sooner we can all sleep at night," Vlad turned around to face the carved-out window thoughtfully.

Fortunately, a beautiful woman in a dark blue flowing dress floated into the room with an angel's grace. Erzsébet smiled and curtsied to every man in the room, a slow and loving movement. Anderson, Vlad, and the Regent all stared at her perfection with their mouths slightly open. Her lavender perfume seemed to emanate from the walls and intoxicate the inhabitants. Erzsébet laughed melodiously, the paragon of what a queen should look like.

"Well, let us continue the meeting, shall we? Do not stop on my account," she grinned, pleased with their reactions to her dramatic entrance.

Anderson kissed her ring as she extended her arm, "My governess, it pleases me to see you well."

She nodded and turned to Vlad. Erzsébet seemed to hesitate for a split second, which was noticed only by him. As they locked with his, her eyes, in that moment, penetrated through his walls of pretentious, swaggering courage. The deep wistfulness within those blue orbs seemed to strip away every piece of armor he had within the span of a second. It startled him as she stared at him longer, which only made him feel as though he continued sinking into an abyss. It slipped its hooks into him and pull him lower, deeper, lulling him almost into a drowsy sleep.

He stood there, in a strange coma, feeling completely naked and exposed for her to begin her dissection. When he watched her lips curl upward in a smile, he couldn't feel the strength to breathe. Trying to break free from her, he squirmed. To his relief, she lifted her toxic gaze from him and looked back at her husband. He instantly felt released from being held captive and touched every piece of his clothing, making sure it was just a reverie.

When he dared to look back at Erzsébet, she looked as harmless as ever. He blinked in confusion and shook his head.

"So this is Sir Vladislaus Dracula III," She announced graciously.

He instinctively stepped forward and bowed, her arm extended to him, and he hesitated.

"Your generosity is as remarkable as your beauty," Vlad kissed her soft white skin that resembled Integra's remarkably, "I can easily see where your daughters get their beauty."

He saw her eyes flash in anger for a split second but then return to their charming glow once more.

"Thank you, young one," She chuckled and stepped back to her husband's side.

"I've been thinking, my love," The Regent thoughtfully looked a manuscript over, "My birthday is coming up, is it not? Should we begin plans for the annual feast day?"

Erzsébet made a sound of slight interest, "Yes, it is. I was thinking of preparing a feast for you, in your honor. Or perhaps a celebration?"

The Regent-governor nodded slowly to both of those ideas, but he was now more focused on the fact that she seemed distant, "Is something wrong?"

She blinked and smiled politely, "No, nothing," Her eyes wandered to Vlad for a moment, "I only worry for our daughter."

The Regent sighed and decided to sit down for this conversation, "I told you. Victor is a good man. His title says it all. Imperial prince, Duke of Munsterberg and Opava and Count of Kladsko."

"It is not Victor in whom I have doubts," Erzsébet clarified softly, breaking her eye-contact with Vlad, whose heart began to beat faster, "It is with George of Kunštát and Poděbrady, Victor's father."

Vlad exhaled silently.

"You know he claims regency over Bohemia, but that region is torn viciously with civil war: one party faithful to Rome, and the other, the Hussites, faithful to him. That is hardly a stable ally to put so much faith in, and I can't help but wonder if he will be there to help us against the Ottomans."

The Regent wrapped his arms around his wife, securing her, and hoping he could secure her doubts, "I know…I know…" he whispered in her ear, "But it is a marriage-alliance. It is a pact between regions like us. It promises that–"

"That's the problem," Erzsébet raised her voice, "I don't want her anywhere near Bohemia. She might get killed, János. It's not stable there."

He hushed her by placing a thick index finger across her lips, "Which is why I am going to invite Victor to the celebration of my birthday. And his father, The Regent of Bohemia, George, is invited, along with his family. Everyone shall be invited. Every man with a title attached to his name can be invited. Perhaps we could even make it a tournament, a Turneul Cavalerilor."

Erzsébet coiled a strip of her blonde hairs around her finger in deep thought. Her nose scrunched and her eyes narrowed. The Regent almost kissed her right there for looking so cute, but he refrained, because he knew she would get mad at him diverting her concentration. She bit at her lip, considering something new.

"My love, tournaments are held for the sole purpose of winning a fair noble Lady, so that the knight may talk to the nobleman to arrange a marriage…"

The Regent's eyes lit up as he began to imagine it, "Yes, you're right. We could kill two birds with one stone."

Erzsébet chuckled, seeing exactly where he was headed, "You mean to invite Victor to the celebration to meet Integra, and marry Seras off to a knight who registers in the Turneul Cavalerilor? Ingenious."

The ruler kissed the top of her forehead slowly and looked down at her adoringly, "What would we do without each other?"

She was about to answer him when he silenced her reply with a kiss. Vlad had guessed it was a rhetorical question.

"And I believe this is where I take my leave," Vlad heard himself say abruptly, startling their amorous moment. Anderson nodded in agreement, turning a sickly green color.

The Regent snapped his fingers to both men without breaking eye contact with Erzsébet, "Ah ah…my advisors, get this job done. The celebration needs to be…a memorable one."

Anderson cleared his throat, "My Lord…what of Bagamér?"

"Yes," The Regent seemed to remember, "You're right. Send Ladislaus and a company of men to assist him." He did not release his wife as she quite resisting him, sighed, and began to hug him back.

Vlad, mildly disgusted by the sight, forced himself to take a step forward for his question, "My Lord, do you wish me to accompany Prince Ladislaus to quell the uprising?" Eagerness could not be masked in his voice.

"I second the idea," Anderson nodded in agreement, the only time Vlad actually would have his support.

But The Regent shook his head in disagreement, "No, you shan't. You must stay here and help with the preparations of the tournament. You have helped enough already in this meeting."

Anderson watched as the young man's jaw locked and his gaze fell to the floor in frustration. In a whisper that could almost not be heard, Vlad stated, "My Lord, I hardly feel useful planning for a party…"

"You will do as you are told, advisor," The Regent stated impatiently.

"Then shall I do what I'm clearly supposed to do?" Vlad raised his voice, "I'll just then advise you of the fact that my title is Captain, and I prefer to be called as such. The word 'advisor' is reserved for men with obsequious pomposity. In essence, Anderson," Vlad threw him a perfect smile.

There was a pause when The Regent decided whether or not to answer, and how to. The man let go of his worrying wife and sighed, turning around to face the young brute. The older man's eyes dangerously narrowed as he walked up to Vlad. The Regent placed a hard hand onto Vlad's shoulder, instantly choking its circulation in a vice grip. Vlad fought the urge to flinch and twist away from the pain, but pain was what taught him to stay strong; it was what taught him to stare back at his problem and fight it relentlessly into the ground; it was what taught him to stay alive, what reminded him of the fact that he still was alive. The Regent bent slightly to whisper in Vlad's ear.

"Then shall I remind you of the fact that I am, above nothing else, your ruler? And of the fact that when I give you a command, you obey it? If you give me reason to believe that you will not follow orders, I shall have your head delivered to me on a silver platter by the end of today. Are we clear? You are not to question my judgment," The Regent stood back up straight and smiled.

Vlad grudgingly bowed his head, "Yes, my Lord." He did not smile back. "I take my leave. Or am I forbidden from that as well?" He turned on his heels before any answer could be formed and walked out of the room in a cloud of torrential anger.

.•*´¨`*•.

Seras reached for the familiar wooden feel of her bow. Its soft, curved shape soothed her mind as she then groped for the matching quiver of arrows. Throwing it to her back like a sack of potatoes, it slung loosely into place. She took a stance and eyed her target thirty paces away; far enough to squint her eyes, but close enough for her arm to pull back on it, the limbs bending flexibly under her pressure. She quickly pulled an arrow out of her quiver and lined it up correctly with her grip. She inhaled slowly, and exhaled, releasing the arrow. It shot forward with a whoosh and penetrated her target mercilessly with a 'thud'. Eying the damage done, she grinned, satisfied.

Another violent swish of air blew passed her face, causing her hair to whip her cheeks. She whirled around in a panic to see her older sister brushing imaginary dirt off her shoulder in an attempt to look awesome, that it was no skin off of her nose. Looking back at the target, a thick dagger had embedded itself in the dummy's chest adjacent to Seras's arrow.

"You could have warned me that you were here," She said angrily, "Had your aim been slightly off…"

Integra shrugged, "And yet, it wasn't. I'm not here to fight with you, Seras. I just need to work off some pent up…emotions," she carefully chose the word and unsheathed a sword from her weapons belt.

Seras nodded, seeming to understand, and pulled another arrow out, "I can sympathize. You seem to have made peace about it."

"The engagement?" Integra asked.

"Yes…" Seras stated, as if it was obvious, "Unless…unless you haven't–"

Jutting her sword forward in a hook like motion, Integra gutted a different hay bale, watching the straw spill out and to the ground, "I have."

The two words were awkward and abrupt, but Integra did not care to reply with a usual furthering statement, to Seras's surprise. Her younger sister opted to continue practicing in silence. But it didn't last.

Integra bared her teeth at her target and slashed at it once more, pretending it was retaliating as she jumped this way and that, "I have no reason not to come to peace with it," she pommel-struck the dummy's head, "Victor is obviously a good man, from what I've heard," Integra impaled her sword into its chest with a grunt, "He's rich, a duke, has a fiefdom, all the riches in the world that a girl could ask for. He'll make a fine husband!" she pulled out another hidden dagger and stabbed the dummy roughly where its eye should be. Pausing to realize what she was saying and what she was doing, noting that they looked very different, laughed in spite of herself. There was a certain bitterness she could not hold back from it.

Seras's face twisted into a knot of frowns, "Is that what you think, or is that what you want to think?"

Integra ceased dismembering her target and glanced back at Seras. Her expression was easy enough to read that Integra was miffed for being pushed further. Even without a response, Seras got her answer in seconds and nodded sadly.

"Forgive me, sister," Seras apologized, "I did not mean to pry."

Integra turned back to the bale and sawed its arm off, "You are fine. You are not one to judge," she grinned, "After all, it has become quite obvious that you have feelings for Pip."

Seras lost her balance and shot the arrow straight into the grass a couple of feet in front of her. Her cheeks instantly felt hot as she reflexively reached up to cover her blushing face to hide the evidence, "What?"

To that, Integra laughed raucously, "Do not play innocent. I see the way you look at him when he escorts us places. I see the way he looks at you, as well."

Seras turned swiftly around and allowed her curiosity to win over, "What did you see? What does he look like? Does he even look at me? He never looks at me, nor deigns to talk to me on the way over! What if he hates me? How would you know anything?"

The elder held up a hand, which finally caused Seras to stop talking, "I don't need to answer all of these questions in order for you to know that he feels something for you," she paused, "Now, what you do with this is up to you."

Seras double took at her statement, "What, no warning? No chastisement? Not even some parting words of wisdom?"

Integra closed her eyes as she felt a breeze play with her hair. Its soft and warm caress sweetened the sad moment as she swallowed. "I have no wisdom to give, since I am as guilty and naive as you…"

When Seras was about to ask what she meant by that, they both heard someone shove open the secret door to the target range. Both girls frantically raced to the covered ivy sides for safety and hid themselves amongst the greenery. The person kicked the door once more and watched it crack open with a jolt. Seras and Integra looked on curiously to see a castle guard enter, suspiciously glancing around him.

"That's Pip!" Seras gasped in complete disbelief, "What is he doing here?"

"I don't mean to point out the obvious," Integra reasoned, "But he looks more like he should be here than we do."

Seras shushed her when another person stepped through the portal. His maroon cape and gold tassels swishing gracefully across his collar bone as his plated shoulders swayed confidently side to side. Vlad tossed his black shoulder-length hair aside and stepped closer into the field, muttering something softly about the sun's brightness. He stalked a few steps into the high grass when he halted and sniffed the air. Integra and Seras held their breaths as his head turned slowly to face them, his eyes trailing the ivy and bushes that they were concealed with. He took a few steps in their direction, much to Integra's dislike, but fortunately, Pip called out to the man.

"Vladislaus, can you teach me now?" Pip pressed. He stationed himself next to the hay bale that Integra had crippled.

Vlad blinked and glanced once more at the bushes, then continued his way to the guard. He paused again, and this time inspected Integra's dummy, taking acute interest in the dagger buried in its head. He reached for the hilt and gently grasped it. Upon meeting contact, he withdrew his hand as quickly as it had reached out.

"Vladislaus, now is it? Not Ottoman? Or even Wallachian? We're on a first-name basis? Oh, how touching," he chuckled.

Pip rolled his eyes, "Forgive me, Oh Segregated One, if I do not wish to anger my teacher on the first day."

Vlad unsheathed his sword and fought the urge to smile, "Then arm yourself, my student."

Pip unsheathed his own sword and examined it for a moment, "These…are blunt, correct? We're only dueling, right; so that I may better hone my skills at reading my enemy's moves?"

Vlad did not reply and only stepped closer to Pip. The guard nervously watched the soldier's eyes darken at Pip, his new target. They saluted one another and readied their stance. Each man stood unflinchingly still as he watched the other to move first. Vlad jerked his sword to the right side, causing Pip to fling his weapon in that direction. Vlad quickly took advantage of Pip's mistake and jutted his sword left, into the tip of the man's chest, leaving room for the width of a fingernail. Pip held his breath as he stood still and eyed the sword.

"Amateur mistake," Vlad shook his head, "Never be startled by another's moves, and never take your eye away from your target."

Pip righted himself and leveled his sword again, "Yes, of course. How stupid," he said with honesty, shaking his head in embarrassment.

Vlad crossed his footsteps and watched as Pip matched him. "Good, you're mirroring what I do."

Pip jumped out at Vlad, and as Vlad took the bait, Pip twirled to the side, missing the soldier's blade and whacked at Vlad's backside. But Vlad was quicker and ducked to the floor, rolling into a crouching position agilely and sweeping his weapon at Pip's feet in an arc that split the leaves settled on the ground. The guard jumped up to avoid the sword and lunged for the man again. Vlad leaned back as the guard grazed his metal chest plate with the tip, engraving a nice horizontal line in it. For a moment, Pip looked at it satisfactorily with a smug grin when Vlad growled softly and clashed weapons.

The sound of metal hitting metal rang through their ears, but it was a familiar tune that Vlad welcomed. Finally, there was an outlet he could use in releasing his anxiety and anger.

Adrenaline sang through his veins as Pip desperately tried to keep up with the soldier. Just when the guard had deflected a near crushing blow, Vlad answered with another relentless stab. And yet, when Pip glanced at the man, he seemed generally content; Pip could go even further to say 'happy'. But that was Vlad's extent. Just happy-looking. No doubt, hundreds of calculations were running through his head as he watched Pip's moves in order to figure out his own next move.

Pip feinted right and juked Vlad, confusing the soldier for a moment. Pip then watched Vlad make up for it by thrusting his sword forward at the man; but the guard was two steps ahead, for once, and ducked himself beneath Vlad's arm. To Pip's utter astonishment, Vlad rotated his sword and slipped it underneath his arm to stab Pip behind him square in the chest with the tip facing the opposite direction Vlad was.

"Where in the Hell do you learn to fight like this?" Pip laughed, exasperated, as he backed away and watched Vlad turn around, spinning his sword back to his side.

"I was bred to kill," Vlad said without much emotion, "When your life depends on how good you fight, usually the poor ones do not last long."

Pip somberly nodded, "I see."

Vlad's face animated back to its charming brilliance once more, "You're doing better than I could have imagined. There is one thing, though. You are trying to hit where I am, not where I am going to be. And it takes an especially trained eye to read your opponent's moves like that."

Pip's face fell slightly. "I knew it. It's not worth the trouble, is it?"

Vlad snorted in derision, "I did not say that. I think, with some training, you could be the next best duelist in all of Hungary."

"Whaaaat?"

The soldier sighed, "Do not make me say it again, guard."

Pip's Cheshire grin seemed to split his cheeks in half as he sheathed his sword and fist-punched the air, "Alright!"

Vlad sheathed his own weapon and leaned against a dummy, "What with the Turneul Cavalerilor, you may have a chance of at least impressing Seras in the Grand Melee."

Pip jerked his head to the side, as if the words 'Seras' and 'Grand Melee' were two separate slaps to the face, "W-what?"

Vlad nonchalantly raised his eyebrows and laughed airily, "Oh, that's right. You do not yet know the news. The Regent is hosting a celebration of sorts for his birthday, and is also intending to marry Seras off to some knight who registers. Everyone in the kingdom is apparently invited."

Pip shook angrily, "Mon dieu, he plans on selling her to the highest bidder like a heifer."

Vlad blinked at the first two words out of his mouth but then heard a faint gasp in the corner by the bushes he'd looked at earlier. He turned to Pip and decided to slowly approach the area. Pip followed in his footsteps soundlessly as they came closer…closer…

Vlad began to hear sniffling and whispering as he armed himself, unsure if a spy was hiding or not. Recognizing one of the voices, he grinned and parted the greenery with his sword. Integra was wiping tears off of Seras's cheek, probably from what Vlad had just stated. Watching the backs of two lovely young women turn around and look at him in shock was all too rewarding.

"My Ladies…" Vlad concealed his weapon and held out a hand for any of the two to pick.

They both looked at each other and then at his intrusive appendage with severe distrust. They stood on their own. Integra was the first to speak.

"It is not…It is not what it looks like," she tried, half confused if she should even be attempting to defend herself.

She knew her face was probably red with embarrassment, but the origin of the feeling was not born from getting caught here, in the target range. It was from the last time she had seen him, from the last time they had spoken; the time that she spewed her guts out and over the second balcony for all to see, with him holding her in that soft yet strong embrace to ensure her balance and safety, no doubt the heroic act grounded within his own selfish gains. Even now, with the memory still fresh in her mind, Integra felt the barely-healed scar of her dignity tear once again as Vlad's body language exuded pride. She met his gaze with her own, all the same. She could exude pride too, if only externally.

"Of course not," Vlad enveloped his words in sarcasm, "It does not look like you were spying on us in curiosity at all. It's clear to me that you wish to know how to improve your skills, or did you think I was not aware of the fact that you constantly sneak out to this place?"

Integra's eyes widened for a moment, but she quickly controlled herself and shook her head, "You think I want to improve my already exceptional skills by watching you?" she said with evident disgust, "Heaven, forbid me so! You lack a particular…grace…that is needed to be a true duelist."

The soldier recoiled slightly from her comment and frowned, "Then perhaps you wish to show me just how superior you are," he challenged.

Seras jumped in between them for a moment, "Integra, sister, we really must be going! If father sees you and I here, he will chain us to the walls of our rooms before dinner! And what's worse is that it will be on Walter's head! You know this! Reason with yourself!"

The elder princess felt her mind gain back the reins of her sanity for a fleeting moment as Seras looked up into her eyes. They begged her to reconsider Vlad's challenge, and based on their sentiment at the moment, she nearly forfeited. But as Integra watched Vlad control himself from snickering, her blood boiled with rage once more. She pulled the tassels from her shawl, draped on her collar, and let it fall to the ground. She stepped out of the safety of the bush and straight up to the soldier with an air of arrogant confidence.

"Let us not keep a girl waiting," Integra walked to the center circle where Vlad and Pip were not five minutes earlier.

"As you wish, my Lady," Vlad winked and headed over to the circle with her.

Seras and Pip watched on in horrid fascination as both people saluted each other, and the duel began.

.•*´¨`*•.

"IT'S TIME TO D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-DUEL!" …(anyone?) :D

There are three things you do NOT do to Integra: take her cigars, question her intelligence as a woman, and make fun of her swordsmanship. There will be blood. Oh-ho-ho yes!

Okay, for those who might be lost –in Chapter 4 (Clarification)– Integra and Seras find a hidden target range complete with dummies stuffed with hay and fabric with bulls eyes painted on it. So that's where they were during that scene.

Also, Turneul Cavalerilor means Knights Tournament in Romanian. I know, it's not Hungarian, but I don't trust Google Translate, and I have family in Romania.

Also, yes, Pip meant to say those two French words. I cannot un-make the fact that he will always be awesomely French in my eyes, with a touch of swearing-sailor in him as well. We will learn later on how he ended up here, in Hungary. (Oh, and it's probably not going to be super mysterious. It's probably just going to be a side explanation like 'Yeah, my ancestors moved here in the 1100s', or something.)

Anyway, as you can see, nothing really goes on in 1452, so I'm having fun here. I've always wanted to do a tournament! So excited! So excited!