Disclaimer: Still don't own Hellsing. Yet.
Claimer: Uhh… hints of yuri maybe?
POV
Saki fidgeted uncomfortably on her bed, only a few short steps from jumping up and down on the austere furniture. The room was nice enough – most certainly tidy and organized into a near painful structure.
Sir Integra – 'my master,' she asserted mentally – had told her to stay here. Her rebound from the gunshot wound had apparently been a rather quick one, judging by the surprise of the men and women dressed in white – the healers of this household, if she were any to judge. So now, even though she felt up to full capacity, here she was left – waiting.
It had been a few days, and by now Saki felt full to burst. She was used to running free – quite literally – with the frozen forests and tundra as her playground. And yet here – here in this strange city of white stone and tidy little fortresses ('houses!' she corrected mentally) – here, she was told (rather harshly, as it were) to stay inside while 'arrangements' were made.
And so here she sat, idly biding her time, watching the men outside incessantly drill day in and day out. As a voyeur to this strange new world, she had, admittedly, learned a great deal. But, being confined to this room as it were, she hadn't learned as much as she could have hoped.
A gentle rapping on the door was followed with smart promptness by the cool, smartly-dressed butler called 'Walter'. He was an older chap, and it came as a rather big surprise to Saki that he was not the elder of this household. As it were, however, master seemed to place a great deal of trust in this man, and as such, Saki placed her own trust soundly within him as well.
"Sir!" Saki greeted, saluting smartly as she had seen some of the practicing men outside her window do.
Walter smiled politely, the fine lines in his face crinkling merrily in a polite gesture. "And a good evening to you, Miss Saki." His cool grey eyes seemed to take in everything in the room at once, and with a gentle clucking noise, he set the silver tray in his hands down upon her desk. "You realize, of course, that when Sir Integra told you to stay put, she was referring to you remaining out of the way – not becoming a recluse in your room."
It was more of a statement than a question, but Saki perked up at his words anyway. "Really?"
"Absolutely," Walter informed calmly. Absentmindedly, he rearranged some items on her table, straightening them back into a semblance of the smart tidiness that Walter seemed to leave in his wake. "Sir Integra is simply trying to figure out what to do with you."
"What to do with me?" Though it had been an innocent enough statement, something about the wording sent a course of chills through the lycans body. Images of being cast out, discarded or left behind like some useless child flashed behind her eyes.
She had sworn her life to Sir Integra. Her master wouldn't cast her out… would she?
Walter, however, was blind to her sudden rise of panic. Calmly, he explained, "Well, yes. As a member of the Hellsing household, you will of course be expected to contribute in some way. We simply need to find your proper place." That said, and table apparently returned to a satisfactory level of order, the butler bowed took his leave.
Long after he was gone, Saki stared rather contemplatively in his wake. "Find my place…" she murmured, head already ripe to burst with ideas. "Yes! I will prove to my master that I belong here just as much as any other!"
POV
The Hellsing mansion seemed even larger from the inside than it did from the outside. With over brimming curiosity fueling her every step, Saki began to make the rounds.
Thankfully, she was used to a life of tracking by landmarks in a largely tundra-area. Though this place was entirely different, she found it wasn't too hard to memorize the layout by landmark. Each wall seemed to be covered in very different portraits, each hall adorned with a slightly different layout. After scarcely a few hours, Saki felt relatively confident about the upper level.
Next, naturally, came the path down the stairwell. The first floor was significantly less populated than the second. While the second contained master's office and rooms among many others, the first contained larger areas. The kitchens, the dining hall, a few libraries, some expansive studies, and some servant rooms. It didn't take the lycan too long to have exhausted her curiosity of this floor, as well.
The next natural progression was to proceed to the dungeons.
Though her mind was, in all factuality, revolving around how she could please her master, it was really her subconscious mind to blame that stopped her when she felt their presences.
'Vampires!'
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end the moment she sensed them. For a moment, she crouched, an instinctive growl rumbling low in her chest. It was only a momentary instinct, however – a moment later, she was forced to scoff at her own reaction.
'Master's vampires.' She had only momentarily met the younger one, as she passed through her infirmary in a surge of curiosity. The older, of course – the male – served her master. Was bound to her, somehow.
There was something beneath the surface between those two. Something that wasn't quite tangible – an underlying bound that went beyond the magic that undoubtedly was involved in a vampire's capture. It was respect, it would seem – and there was something more. Something deeper…
At the very thought of her master's warm gaze upon him, a surge of jealousy coursed through her, unbidden. He was a vampire. He lived off the blood of humans and the servitude of lycans! He was a monster, and a monster had no place even groveling upon the ground her most noble master walked upon!
What made him so special? Why did he get this close bond to her, while she was but a burden which needed to be 'figured out what to be done with'? Surely, her master should know that she could better serve than any blood-sucking shadow of the night!
Then again, he seemed to play the part of her warrior. But Saki could play the part just as well, if she only had the orders – the tools – the weapons…
'The weapons…'
Without even realizing it, she had stopped before the room that seemed to reek of old blood. This was his lair – that much she was certain of. Being a lycan, she had a sixth sense for the undead, and even if she didn't, she was rather certain that the shadows were more tangible in this part of the dungeon anyway. Even as she looked at the door, she had subconsciously made her plan.
To be continued…
Trying to be better about updating this one for you all!
Now, I have a few ideas as to where to take this in the immediate future, but your guy's requests and suggestions would be much appreciated!
Want more of something? Want less of something? Suggestions for the writing style, format, etc.?