Sorry this took so long, it's been a rough couple of weeks.
Summary: Based in the Little Red Riding Hood story. Who's really the big, bad wolf?
Rating: M for lemon, which, I remind you, I am not great at writing.
NSFW Picture link (add h*t*t*p*:*/*/) lsayaku . deviantart gallery/ #/ d26gidl
Disclaimer: Hellsing belongs to Kouta Hirano, artwork belongs to Lsayaku.
Requested by Snowalice: BTW, forgot to mention you can request pics, my bad.
Once again, thank you to everyone who reviewed/favourited/story alerted.
She felt a pain shot up her back as she stood up from the fireplace, she getting old. Someday she wouldn't even be able to bend down to start the fire.
The old woman sighed, and rubbed her cold hands together. She was barely over sixty; surely she still had a few good years left?
She eyed the dwindling stack of firewood and decided to go outside for more before the sun set and it really started to get cold.
This winter was a harsh one, much worse than the previous; her son was right, they were getting colder every year. It was a matter of time until she would have to move out of her cottage in the woods and back into the village.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, she thought, wrapping her cloak over her shoulders and picking up the hatchet she kept by the door. She would get the see her granddaughter every day, instead of just Sundays when the girl's parents had time to bring her around. She smiled; it would be fun watching her poor son try to chase all the boys away from her.
Any warmth the fire had given her was blown away by the wind; she didn't waste time being stunned by it and headed straight to the log pile.
The three logs felt heavier than stones, but she pushed forward up the stairs. As she glanced down to make sure they were arranged safely, she noticed a trickle of red trailing along the snow and leading under the house.
Hopefully it was a wounded animal that had fallen for one of her traps, and not a larger animal looking for easy food. Quickly, she put the logs by the fire and pulled her late husband's crossbow out the chest at the foot of her bed.
Thankfully there was still enough light for her to see under the house, she aimed the weapon first, knowing if there was something dangerous she probably only had one shot before it got her. Against her nature, she reminded herself that she should run and get into the house first, not shoot.
She heard a… well it sounded like it was trying to be a growl but it wasn't quite there yet.
A thin, drained looking boy glared at her, bright blue eyes burning, trying to warn her away. There was a cut on his left eyebrow that was bleeding much less than a wound that bad normally would. He was barefoot, but didn't seem bothered by the cold. His right ankle was bruised and swollen so badly she was amazed he was able to move.
He had pulled a dead rabbit out of a trap and was clutching it possessively.
"Those aren't very good raw," she said softly, pointing at the animal. "I've got stew cooking; if you come inside we can share it."
His expression didn't change; he still glared back at her.
"I've got bread too," she added. "I don't have any sweets, but I've got a fire and an extra bed."
Finally, he crept towards her, slow and cautious. He was afraid she would hurt him, she wondered if that fear had something to do with his injuries.
She offered to help him up the stairs but he hobbled up on his own stubbornly.
While the stew finished cooking, she tried to look at his eye. He didn't like it but held still, every muscle in his small body tense and ready if she made a wrong move.
Gently, she wiped away the blood with a cloth. The cut looked to be a few days old; it had scabbed over, but had reopened at the eyebrow.
She had him put pressure where the blood was coming out and cleaned the rest of his face; it had even dripped down to his neck. With the blood gone she saw a scar across his throat, like someone had tried to slit it. It wasn't fresh, but it wasn't old either.
She poured him some stew and watched how he ate it closely, hoping for clues about his past. But he didn't eat, he just watched her. After a moment, he leaned his head towards the cooking pot, then back at her.
Ah, she realized, he was waiting for her to eat first, very polite.
They sat on the floor together, watching each other. The boy seemed ate much faster than she did. She smiled at his appetite, reminded of long gone days with her son.
"Here," she said, holding out her half of the bread. "I'm not that hungry, you can have mine."
He took it gladly, nodding thanks.
"Your hair is a beautiful colour," she complimented. The boy blushed and ducked his head shyly, inadvertently giving her a good look at his snow white locks.
"Can you speak?" She asked, unable to forget the scar.
He nodded, but stayed silent.
"How old are you?"
He held up all his fingers.
"Ten?" He nodded again. Hmm, she had guessed younger, he was smaller than he should be. "My granddaughter's about that age."
This time he nodded politely, it only made her more eager to get him talking.
"Where are your parents?"
He looked at the floor sadly, she understood.
"Who takes care of you? An aunt? Uncle?"
He didn't look up from the floor.
"Are you alone?"
He nodded.
"Why were you in the woods?"
He covered his face with his hands, peeking out from behind his fingers.
"Hiding? From who?"
He didn't even nod; he just looked at the fire.
"Are you hiding from the person who did that to you?" She pointed at his bleeding brow.
He nodded, unaware that he was starting to tremble.
"Don't you worry; if he comes after you again I'll protect you."
The boy didn't share her confidence; the words did not comfort him. There wasn't anything she could do to protect him if he was still looking.
Still, it was nice to know she would try, so he smiled thankfully.
"Mother?" Her father called, knocking on the door and barely waiting for a reply before going into the house. He was always impatient to see his mother; he thought it was too dangerous for her to live out here on her own.
"Over here," Grandma said from her lounge chair, looking up from her knitting.
Someone else was impatient too, eight year old Seras Victoria ran inside at the sound of her voice, climbing into her lap and wrapping her arms around the old woman.
"There's my angel," Grandma cooed, holding the girl tightly. "Did you miss me?"
The girl nodded and rested her head on Grandma's shoulder. She couldn't wait until she was old enough to walk to the house alone, then she could visit every day.
Then she noticed something.
"Who's that?" She asked, pointing.
Her parents looked towards the doorway to the spare room and saw a small boy watching them closely, curious and on guard.
"It's alright," Grandma said, waving the boy over. "This is my son and his family."
Of course, the boy didn't budge.
"He's shy," Grandma explained.
"Who is he?"
"I'm not sure, found him under the house yesterday. Says he's an orphan, so I'll be looking after him for now."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Her son asked warily.
"You're the one always complaining it's too dangerous for me out here alone," Grandma pointed out.
He looked at the boy and said, "he's a bit small to be any protection."
His wife rolled her eyes, "you do know they grow bigger at some point, right?"
Seras climbed down from the chair, deciding to investigate the newcomer. He almost backed away as she approached him, but didn't want to show fear. She was smaller than him but he knew from experience that didn't always mean she was weaker.
"Hello," Seras said, smiling.
The boy just stared at her, confused by how friendly she was.
"I'm Seras, what's your name?"
"Leave him alone, sweetie," Grandma told her.
"Hans," the boy answered. Something about the girl had a calming effect on him; he somehow knew she wouldn't hurt him.
"Hi, Hans," Seras said while the old woman huffed.
"Sure, you talk to her," she shook her head and went back to knitting.
Ten years later…
Captain Victoria eyed the two new guards sent over from the city; they were younger than he'd hoped, barely into their twenties. But he couldn't afford to be picky, he'd been lucky to get any reinforcements at all.
"Morning, boys," he greeted.
Both instantly stood at attention, armor and weapons clattering. "Morning, sir," they said in unison.
"How's the new armor?" He asked politely.
"Honestly, sir?" The dark haired one, Rogers, said. "It fits fine, but it's not as strong as what we're used to."
"I know," The captain said, almost apologetically. "We all have to make the best of what we have here."
He beckoned them forward and began to give them the tour of their new home. Their first stop was the market, most of the village was there to sell, trade or buy. Spring had just started and people were looking for things they had missed over the winter.
"Did they tell you anything about the town?" The captain asked over the noise.
"They didn't say much, only just that you've got wolves," the other one, Baldwin, said.
"Wolf," he corrected, "it's just one. And it's smart, the one time we managed to trap the thing it somehow freed itself."
"How many people has it killed?"
"None yet," the captain admitted.
"Then why kill it?"
"Believe me, when you see it, you'll know." He probably should have warned them about the creature's massive size, and maybe he still would, but the looks on their faces would be good for a laugh.
"Who's that?" Rogers asked, grinning wolfishly.
When Baldwin saw who he was looking at, a similar smile appeared on his face.
A young woman, about eighteen, was walking through the market. She had light blonde hair cut short and lovely fair skin, of course the men didn't notice that because they were too busy looking elsewhere. Her dress didn't hide her ample chest; at least the red hooded cloak covered the rest of her.
The captain glared at them so venomously they should have burst into flame, "that's my daughter, Seras."
The men suddenly lost interest, muttering apologies and hoping something, anything would happen to change the subject.
Seras looked up from the basket she was carrying and spotted her father, she waved with a smile. The captain waved back and rookies were tempted to wave too, but decided against it, sighing with relief when she moved along.
"You will be expected to treat all the citizens here respectfully," the captain warned, deciding the let in slide just this once. "There are mostly good people here, they rarely give us trouble."
They left the market and moved to the city gates, there were less than fifteen people gathered around there, mostly other guards and a few woodcutters.
The town seemed so strange to the newcomers, there were much less trees where they came from, this place was surrounded by them. Even the wall of tree trunks sharpened to a deadly point set up as a wall around it looked foreign to them. The buildings where they came from were made of stone.
"One of the lieutenants will give you your schedules," the captain said as they hovered in the gate. "Everyone takes turns on the night watch-"
He suddenly stopped talking and walking, the men followed his line of sight until they saw what had his attention.
A very tall, very imposing man in simple clothes and a woodsman axe in hand was talking to Hubbard, the head woodcutter. The smaller man looked nervous, almost frightened.
"I know I said 6 each, and at the time I meant it because I thought I could sell it for that much, but its spring and people are using less firewood," he was babbling. "So I really can't afford that much."
He tried to smile, but it was very weak as he watched for the other man's reaction. There wasn't one, he just kept glaring.
"I can give you 4 gold and 2 silver each," he added.
Hubbard looked like he was going to cry with relief as the man nodded; he quickly excused himself to get the money.
The rookies watched curiously, finally Baldwin asked what just happened.
"Who's the big guy?"
"Hans," the Captain said, not hiding the contempt. "He's a stray my mother took in when he was still a runt."
"Why did Hubbard look like he was ready to wet himself?" Rogers asked.
"'Cause, like everyone else here, he's scared shitless of the boy," without waiting for the question, he started to explain why. They would hear the story from somebody soon anyway.
"One day, Seras went to visit her grandmother by herself, her house is out in the woods. It isn't that far but it's far enough that the trip is dangerous alone, especially if you wander off the path. One of the guards, Johnson, met her at the gate and told her about this meadow filled with flowers that her grandmother would love.
Seras left the path to find the meadow and while she did, Johnson ran ahead to the house. When he got there, he forced his way in and knocked the old woman out, thinking he killed her then he hid the body in a cupboard and waited."
The captain paused to calm himself, rubbing his jaw as rookies listen intently.
"I don't know exactly what happened next," because none of them would tell him, "but he attacked Seras and that was when Hans came home, and he killed the bastard."
The men looked at each other, wondering the same thing.
"So why do you hate him?" Rogers asked.
"I don't hate, I just don't like him," the Captain clarified. "And I'll always be grateful to him for what he did, it's just… it was the way he killed him."
The man's body had been ripped open, intestines and organs pulled out and torn up and his face had been… mauled beyond recognition, no one knew who it was until Seras told them.
"We thought a bear had gotten him, it didn't look like something a human could do, especially not a scrawny fourteen year old."
The rookies had been watching their commander as he spoke, when he stopped they looked over at the subject of his words, both jumped when the saw Hans staring at them, not just like he knew they were talking about him but like he knew exactly like what they were saying.
"That's creepy," Baldwin muttered.
Hubbard came back with a small coin bag; Hans took it and walked away, down the path and into the woods.
Seras wasn't in a rush; she walked slowly along the path and enjoyed the scenery. Since it was spring again the birds were back, singing and fluttering around the trees. They were usually the only animals she saw; the others were more hunt-able and avoided humans.
She stopped suddenly and turned around, she could have sworn she heard footsteps behind her, but nothing was behind her.
Finally she reached the tree with a lower branch snapped off; she left the path and cut through the trees until she walked into a clearing.
She turned around again, this time she heard sticks cracking. Because she was focusing on where the sound had come from, she failed to notice what was behind her.
The grass didn't make a sound as it was crushed under heavy paws. He crept forward slowly, yellow eyes burning into his prey. He was close enough to reach out and kill her down with one strike of his clawed hand if he wanted.
With his last step, Seras felt a hot breath on the back of her neck. She ripped the out the dagger from its hiding place high on her leg and swung as she spun around, the blade stopped less than an inch from where his throat and jaw met.
'You should have heard me sooner,' a familiar voice in her head scolded.
"I did," she defended, looking the part-man, part-wolf creature right in the eyes without fear. "I heard you right before I found the tree."
'Not then; you ignored vhat vas behind you. I could have killed you before you knew I vas here.'
She sheathed the dagger with a frown; he was right, she was careless. If anything else had been following her it would have killed her.
A white, furry head butted lightly against hers, trying to cheer her up. It worked; she smiled and leaned against him, playing with the mane-like fur on his neck.
As Hans shifted back into his human form he debated telling her about the conversation her father had with the new guards then decided no, she argued with her father about him enough.
He wasn't proud of how he killed that man, though he didn't feel bad about it either, sometimes he even regretted killing him so quickly. But as soon as he entered the house he smelt what the bastard wanted and he was too enraged to stop himself. It seemed like Seras never realized exactly why he had followed her; Hans had gotten there too soon for him to do anything. Sometimes that was a relief and sometimes it made him worry for the girl.
As the last of his fur retreated into his skin and his bones shrank Hans sat on the grass to rest until the pain passed.
Seras sat next to him, touching his forearm, "are you alright?"
He nodded; it got better with every year that passed. The first time he hadn't been able to walk the next day.
Seras moved closer, pressing her body against his and kissed under his ear, "I had a dream about you last night."
His eyebrows raised in interest as her small hands started undoing his shirt buttons.
"You were chopping wood, you weren't wearing this," she continued, pulling the white material off and eyed his well muscled chest appreciatively.
"And vhat vere you doing?" He started undoing the tie on her red cloak, making sure not to actually touch her.
"Watching you," she answered, very aware of his hand.
She let a squeak when Hans pounced on her, gently pinning her to the ground with his warm, hard body. He chuckled at her familiar blush, kissing and nipping the soft skin on her neck lightly so he wouldn't leave any marks as he loosened her corset.
Seras ran her hands through his white hair and watched the clouds above them to busy herself while he worked; enjoying the pleased growls he let out when her nails scraped his skin.
He tugged the top of the dress down to expose her breasts, her hands automatically went up to cover herself but her pulled them away, barely giving the warm air a chance to touch them before he covered one with his mouth and the other with his hand.
Rough fingers rubbed and swirled around the pink peak slowly while he ran his tongue over the other. Seras knew he was trying to get her worked up but it wasn't necessary.
"When I woke up I wanted you so badly," she said rocking her hips against him, craving some relief for the ache she'd had all day.
He growled again, the vibrations making her moan as they shot through her body, and continued his attention on her chest. Unsure if he was ignoring her signal, teasing her, or just not getting it, Seras decided to be more blunt and started undoing his pants.
"We don't have a lot of time," she reminded him, "Grandma's waiting for us."
Hans raised his head and gave her an annoyed glare, "don't talk about her vhile ve do this."
"Sorry," she said, not looking at all sorry when his hand went up her skirt and started pulling down her underwear, the brief contact sending fiery chills down her spin.
The scent of her arousal hit him like a stone, it sent a painful throb though his loins and he growled again, bright blue eyes turning gold. Seras opened her legs for him as he settled between them and pulled him into a soft kiss
"I love yooo," her words turned into a surprised, pleased gasp when Hans abruptly entered her. The friction sent sweet relief from the ache through her.
"I love you too," he said, smiling proudly as her eyes rolled back. But he didn't waste time admiring his work and quickly started moving in and out of her.
He started off slowly, gently, so he wouldn't be overwhelmed by her warm, achingly tight core clenching around him or the sound of her quick, deep breaths and moans. He didn't want to risk losing control and hurting her, it had never happened before but she had a bad habit of bringing out the animal in him.
It amazed him how someone so fragile held such power over him.
Seras' body burned as his thrusts started to pick up speed, unconsciously digging her nails into his hard shoulders. Her head lolled back slightly and Hans took the opportunity to nuzzle her neck, running his tongue over her pulse point and fighting the urge to suckle on the spot. He resisted, remembering he was forbidden from leaving love bites on places people could see.
His hand wrapped around her hip and plunged deeper into her, she bit back a scream when it pushed her right to the edge of her release.
"Hans," she whimpered desperately.
His hand slid between them, down to where they were joined and rubbed the small nub at her centre. As the orgasm made her body jerk and shake uncontrollably, Seras buried her face in his neck to muffle her high-pitched moans, much to her lover's displeasure.
"I like the sounds you make," he told her, voice low and husky. He bucked hard, making her gasp one last time.
Seras relaxed and smiled contently, still breathing heavily but enjoying the feeling of his hard, warm muscles moving against her, inside of her.
Hans closed his eyes, brow furrowed with concentration for his last few thrusts. With a fierce, feral growl, he pulled out of her and let his seed spill onto her stomach, fingers digging into the soil at their sides. He didn't even give himself time to catch his breath before pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping her skin clean.
Seras pulled him to lie with her and he threw the cloth away carelessly, cuddling up beside his woman and wrapping his arm around her when she used his shoulder as a pillow, a hard, boney pillow.
Things would be so much easier if he just got her pregnant, her father would have to let them get married and they wouldn't have to sneak around in the woods.
They had seriously considered it, or maybe eloping, but Seras wanted her father's approval. Hans didn't care, he only cared about one person's approval and he already had it.
Hans was the man she loved and was going to marry; they knew it, her grandmother knew it, the entire village seemed to know it and even her father knew it, he just refused to accept it.
He kept trying to find her a suitable husband, one that hadn't ripped a man apart with his bare hands and she kept turning them away.
The only plus side of that was when Hans found out she had a suitor visiting he would get very possessive and make love to her until she couldn't walk. Once literally; after she had rejected the blacksmith's son, Hans had whisked her away to their spot in the woods for a few hours and had to carry her home afterwards, claiming 'she hurt her ankle'.
Seras nestled comfortably against him, closing her eyes and enjoying the familiar scent of the forest and sweat.
"Don't fall asleep," Hans warned.
She just grunted back, he took that as a signal to get up before she drifted off. The old woman did not appreciate him bringing Seras to her house asleep.
Reluctantly, she let him pull her up and followed him to the stream nearby that they used to clean up.
Grandma was in the kitchen, finishing cutting the meat from a buck Hans had killed that morning when she heard the door open. She frowned, they were late and she knew why.
"Hi, Grandma," Seras greeted, she hugged her carefully, trying not to get any deer remains on the girl.
Hans set the coin purse on the table and kissed his caretaker on the forehead fondly. He had earned every coin but never kept any for himself; it all went to old woman.
"I'm glad your back," she said to him, shoving a bucket of useless deer parts into his hands. "Get rid of these."
He nodded obediently and left the house to bury them, knowing it was his turn today. Grandma seemed to take turns punishing or blaming each of them for what they did when they were alone. Sometimes she got mad at Hans for taking advantage of her angel, sometimes she got mad at Seras for seducing the poor boy.
"How are things at home?" Grandma asked, going back to the deer. "Has your father run out of men to marry you off to yet?"
"Almost," Seras said, "but two more just arrived."
Grandma shook her head at her son's stubbornness, "I should have great-grandbabies running around by now."
"We're trying," Seras sighed. Her grandmother gave her a disapproving look and she went bright red when she realized how that sounded. "No, I didn't mean-"
"I know what you meant, I'm just teasing," she smiled before turning serious, "but if he gets you pregnant before the wedding, I'll string him up by his feet."
Outside, Hans (who was well aware of the stringing threat) was eyeing some trees, checking how strong the wood was. When he was satisfied they were good enough, claws extended from his fingertips and he marked the trunk with them.
He'd come back another time to chop them down, when Seras wasn't around. He had about half the supplies he needed and the plans were drawn up, once he found the right land he could start construction.
He had a plan, he wasn't sure if he would do it before or after building the house, but he was going to sit down with Captain Victoria and convince him he was the right man for Seras.
As he got closer to the house his keen ears picked up on the voices inside, his two favorite people, bringing a smile to his face.
"… Dad was talking about it, last full moon they almost caught Hans near the lake, but he escaped. Said he was the size of a cow."
The smile vanished, Hans hadn't been anywhere near the lake that night.
So who had the guards almost caught?
If you haven't read Howl by Sweetpea1991 yet, check it out. It's a better H/S story than anything I've written.