Author's Notes: This is going to be a bit of a sad one, so have your tissues ready.

Disclaimer: I do not have any legal claim or gain to Hellsing or The Little Mermaid.


After a lot of rummaging and several upended pillows, Seras found her journal. 'Finally!' she thought. This thing would have been useful when her master was confessing all those lovely things to me on the balcony.

Now that she had time to think about what she was going to say, she realized she could not easily confess to the rescue.

Seras sat at her desk and stared at her paper and pen, unsure of what to write. What could she say? "The church girl did not save you, I did. I saw you buffeted about by the waves, and brought you to shore. I pillowed your head the the sand so that the sun could bring warmth back to your cheeks, for you were nearly dead with cold, and sang to you as I waited for you to regain consciousness. When the church girl arrived, I…"

But Seras realized that story sounded ridiculous. Why would she disappear after the other girl fled? Not to mention it did not match up with everything else she said and did.

Seras kept writing letter after letter, each one more ridiculous than the last.

"I saw you out at sea and brought you to shore. I pillowed your head high on the sand so the sun would bring life back to your cheeks, caressed your face and sang to you till you woke. My song attracted the church girl, who came and found you…"

She crumpled it up and threw it away. That just opened the question of why she fled when the church girl came over. Not to mention the question of why she saved him, disappeared for over a year, and then turned up naked, alone and mute on the steps of his castle one day.

She tried recanting the rescue again and continued, "I loved you so dearly that I could not think of anything else for a year, until finally I braved the journey back to your world. My ship was sank on the way over…" she crossed it out, "There was a terrible storm and I was thrown overboard…" she crossed it out, "There were some horrible people and I was thrown overboard…"

Seras crumpled that up and threw it away too. No matter how many stories she came up with, none of them made sense. What was she doing out there in that time? How could she sing so beautifully one year and then turn up completely mute the next? Why did she hide after she saved him? Where did she live in that time? Why did she not want to reveal where she came from and how she came to live here?

Seras thought of confessing to everyone's suspicion that she was kept in an asylum, but then that raised the questions of who put her there, where was she kept, how did she get out, why had she been there to see him and rescue him a year ago and then turn up again, etc. And Seras still did not know enough about the human world to tell a convincing story.

Seras felt the only way she could tell him would be to confess to being a mermaid. She still did not understand the human world enough to make a convincing story. After all, what perfectly reasonable girl just swims around rescuing people floating along on the ocean and then flutters off into oblivion, only to return over a year later right out of the sea, like a… like a…

'Like a mermaid,' Seras thought.

And Seras could not let him know she was a mermaid. She was terrified of what might happen. The Sea Witch said her potion made her completely human, but Seras was afraid there might still be traces of the mermaid left in her. A human's gaze was agony for mermaids. More specifically, she heard that when humans looked upon mermaids and knew them for what they really were, their eyes upon mermaids caused them great pain.

Seras was afraid. If the Count knew she was a mermaid and his knowledge brought her pain when he looked upon her, this would have all been for naught. She could never stand to be in his presence again. Every time he looked at her, every meal they ate together, every time he spoke to her… it would just be agony to Seras.

In fact, Seras believed the captain suspected her because his gaze made her very uncomfortable. He often looked at her strangely, like he vaguely recognized her from somewhere and was trying to place her. The Sea King had said the humans talked of seeing a mermaid, and Seras believed it had been the strange one-eyed human because he always seemed to sense her, to find her.

When she first looked into the ship on her fifteenth birthday, he had looked her way and then walked over to search overboard enough though his head had been turned and she had not made a sound. During those months when she gazed upon humans from afar, and he and his men stood about talking near the shore, he would vaguely look her way like he sensed he was being watched. When she watched humans from up close or the hounds came too close to her, he always seemed to nearly see her.

She thought of that morning when he had been on the hunt with those dogs, and how they had swarmed the bush she had hid in, and how he had peeled back the branches and very nearly saw her. Maybe he did see her. Seras did not know. She had just been so terrified she splashed him first thing and then drove to the bottom of the river while she waited for them to leave.

Seras suspected that he suspected what she really was, and his gaze brought her great discomfort. If he ever found out for sure, Seras was afraid that his eyes upon her would hurt her deeply, and she still had to be around him.

While Seras was writing, one of the maids came up to see what she had scribbled.

"Oh, you seem very hard at work here…" she said as she picked up one of the crumpled papers.

Seras gasped, tore the paper out of her hand and threw all her discarded drafts into the fire.

"My heavens, girl! What was that all about?"

'You can't know!' Seras thought, 'you just can't know.'

It brought her pain to keep such a secret; to keep her master from knowing her true self and her hand in his rescue, but she just could not let him know. She thought of her feverish nightmare when the man she loved looked upon her fish's tail and saw her for what she really was, and what scorching agony it caused her. What visceral discomfort, what writhing pain. Like the sun cooking some poor tide pool crawler after the tide went low, like the Sea Witch's burning peat marsh, like the thick ooze of the potion forcing its way down her throat and through her veins.

Seras could not risk him seeing her for what she really was so that she lost everything she worked so hard to obtain. She just couldn't.

Seras was happy to see the nobles leave. She had spent months rolling her eyes at the oddities of human society, but this was more than she could handle. She saw Lady Cecile turn up her nose on her way out, clutching Bon-Bon firmly to her breast, and Lady Ingrid smile and bat her eyes coquettishly on her way out.

'Get out of here!' Seras thought angrily.

She was later to realize the two old ladies and two old gentlemen (both married couples) brought their daughters along because they hoped to help them snag the Count. Well, it didn't work, because other than his admiration in their singing at the piano, he had even less interest in them than he had in watching the gardeners prune the rose bushes.

Seras was so thrilled to have the castle back. No cruel governesses to tell her what to do and no nobles to sneer down their noses at her. Just her and the servants and stables and the Old Grey; and her beloved Count, of course. Many of the staff found her odd and gossiped about her too, but they weren't malicious about it. Seras enjoyed their company despite it.

However, the fox hunt had awakened a sort of blood lust in her master. He used to be content in riding for a couple of hours at most, then come in and carry about his day. However, that chase of the fox had reminded him how much he loved to ride and hunt for sport, not just leisure. The rides became steadily longer and longer, often faster, further, and more intense. He took more daring leaps, rode through more winding paths, and made something of an obstacle course chasing through the grounds. It was all Seras could do to keep up, and sometimes she didn't even try to because she didn't want to strain her Old Grey. Even her desire to please the Count did not come before the well-being of her horse.

Unfortunately, the hunt was also an activity the Count had forgotten how much he missed. Even though it was traditionally supposed to be a social activity shared between men of his own station, the Count brought his hounds out for his and his foundling's daily ride. He used to do it on a daily basis before Seras started riding along with him, but now that grace period was over.

Seeing them happily they bounded along with the horses was nice, until they heard or took sight of some hapless animal in the woods, then they would tear right after it. Usually with the Count close behind. This upset Seras a great deal, and at such times she would go as slow as she dared. Often he noticed her in the nick of time and became impatient with her pace and/or lack of enthusiasm.

She tried to protest at home, but her master barely read her letters before casting them aside. If she had a voice she could keep using it or even raise her voice until he finally had to listen, but as long as she only wrote something down he didn't have to read. She was beginning to see more limitations to her condition.

"Ah, Miss Victoria, and how are your letters coming?" Walter asked one day.

Mrs. Hawthorne had taken care of the hard part of teaching Seras, so all Walter needed to do was keep having her practice to make sure she didn't get rusty. She was to write in a journal every night, read at least one story (though he thought fairy tales and nursery rhymes would be easy), and write a series of lines so he could check her penmanship and spelling.

This time, however, she gloomily handed him a note. "What's the use of learning how to read if no one cares to see what I write?"

"Now, Miss Victoria! I can assure you that is not the case…" and then he went onto say many things that did not assure her.

At one point the hounds were gaining on the animal, and her master tore ahead while at the same time she decided she had enough, did not want to see it, and slowed down. Very quickly she heard them howling in the distance, and only too late did she realize her mistake. When the sounds of their howls and hoofs faded from earshot, Seras realized she was lost.

Despite how often she rode around, she did not know these woods like her master did. She mostly just followed him around feeling star-struck by how elegantly he rode and didn't they just seem like husband and wife and—snap out of it, Seras! She had to find a way out.

Unfortunately, Seras had never heard, "stay where you are when you're lost so it'll be easier for someone to find you." To her, it made sense to keep moving until she found someone or someplace familiar to her, and so she did.

After riding around for most of the day, stopping a few times to let her Old Grey rest, eat and have a drink at the stream, she heard the braying of hunting dogs in the distance. No sooner did she start to worry there was another hunt coming along did she encounter one of the grooms on horseback.

"Oh, there you are. HEY! I'VE FOUND HER!" and he blew a horn to alert the others, bringing the others along.

Captain Bernadotte was one of the first among them.

"Oh, Dieu merci!" he breathed. "Are you all right?"

She nodded.

Her master was less beside himself with worry because he knew her to be a better rider than that, and demanded to know why she had stayed her reign. When she confessed that she did not like hunting, he said coldly that they almost never caught anything in the forest because there were so many bushes and trees for their prey to hide in. It was just good sport for the dogs and riders; nothing more.

Seras thought that was beside the point, but dared not let on. Under her master's cold glare she bowed her head, nodded, and let it go.

Because of her stunt, her master went on hunts once every few days and did not bring her along. She could tell when it happened when he brought out the hounds, saddled up with a few of the men, Captain Bernadotte among them, and rode off. It was just like the times she used to watch from the sea, but now she watched from the castle windows.

The rides they went on together were longer and harder. For the first time since she started riding, Seras was becoming rather saddle-sore. Because she could not speak, she could not let him know during the rides that she wished to stop, and so bore it until she got home.

Her master was growing steadily restless, but Seras did not know what. He seemed like he was always itching to go somewhere, do something. He often looked agitated as he read, paced in the parlors or balconies, declared his desire to go for a ride at the oddest times, hunted more frequently, and enquired about social affairs to Walter, who often calmly let him know that he had given him all the information he had at present and, no, nothing had come up over the last few hours.

Her master's unease brought her unease, and so Seras grew to enjoy her visits to the stables more and more. It was far more peaceful and relaxing down there. Because of her stunt many weeks back, the grooms were now nicer to the horses. They didn't jerk them around with the ropes or whip them about, which made the whole place much pleasanter to be in. The horses were calmer and happier, and so Seras was calmer and happier. She liked coming to see the horses, who liked to see her because of the sugar cubes she always had in her pockets, and she grew to like it better than being in the castle.

There were fewer rules down here. She did not have to stand on ceremony as often; to wear perfect clothes, to use perfect posture, hold her eating or writing utensils delicately at the tips of her fingers, or to meet the expectations of many critical eyes. She could walk about in men's clothes and the horses didn't care as long as she had treats hidden in them. She could slouch and lean against the railing and no one came to correct her. The men hated her after she got one of their own fired and so ignored her entirely, which was just fine with Seras because she hated them too. No one cared. This was a place where men could be themselves and Seras could ease back into herself with them.

Seras got to see Captain Bernadotte breaking the filly she had saved. She still remembered how the men would jerk the filly around when she was clearly distressed, and then whip her for showing the slightest bit of spirit. This only served to make the filly even more distressed, which only made the men treat her even more harshly. It descended like so until the day one of the men got so enraged he just kept whipping her and whipping her for no reason, then would jerk her harder and whip her harder the more she whinnied and tried to get away. Seras had gotten so angry she had run up to him, snatched the whip out of his hands and slashed him across the face.

She had very nearly gotten into a row over that, had Captain Bernadotte not intervened. He kept the man from striking her and relayed the story to the Count. She had hated him at the time because he made her sound like she simply "didn't like the way he was training the horse," which made her see red and refuse to acknowledge him for weeks.

Now, as she saw him take over the filly's training, she was starting to warm up to him again. He was firm with the horse, but not cruel or exacting as the other men were. He led her around with a strong grip, but did so slowly and steadily so that the filly knew what he wanted of her, and got a chance to do right rather than just being punished for doing wrong. If she did wrong, like resist when he tried to lead her around or refuse to move when he got on her back, he again did not jerk or whip at her. He would simply do so again with more pressure. He would pull the rope again steadily but more firmly to let her know he meant it, but never lash out.

Seras liked watching him train the red filly. She often got testy and tried whinny angrily, toss her head or snap at him, but he never struck back or punished her for it. Sometimes he would lead her around in circles to get her to "re-direct her rage," as he called. Sometimes if she got too testy, he would hook the lunge line onto her bridle and have her run around in circles to "work off the energy," as he called it. Sometimes if she jerked her head or tried to snap too many times, and ignored his steady but firm warnings to quit it, he would give her rope a short but first jerk to let her know he meant it. But he never used more force than was needed to get the message across.

The filly was very spirited and temperamental, and never tried to hide it. However, unlike the former men, Pip took her anger in stride. He would often talk to her as he trained her; usually in his own language, sometimes in words Seras could understand.

"Oui, I know you're angry, but you need to put on the bridle. Can you do that for me?"

"Oui, I know you want to bite me, but first you have to run in circles. If you have energy to snap, you have energy to run."

"Oui ma cheri, you want to quit, but first you have to go in five circles. Our deal is you go in circles with me on your back and then I take you back to your pretty open box and give you lots of oats. You have not done your work, so you do not get your pay. Can you do the work for me?"

The way he spoke, it was like there was an agreement between horses and humans. Horses did what they were supposed to do—carry riders around, pull carriages, go where humans directed them—and in return they got to go back to their nice stall with plenty of hay, oats, bran mash, and so on. If they didn't do what humans told them, they didn't get to go back to their stall or eat what they wanted until they cooperated.

The filly's training seemed to operate under such a system. Pip would slowly but firmly direct the filly to do something, and if she resisted he just kept directing her to do it until she got it right. Captain Bernadotte once told Seras that horses are cunning animals—like children, they try to get away with doing the least amount of work with the most amount of reward. "Our job as humans," he said, "Is not to punish them for doing wrong, but just remind them who gives them food and board. They can try to shirk the work, but they don't get their nice stalls or their tasty treats if they don't work for it like we work for our pay."

Seras did not fully agree, because when she was a child she never tried to shirk her responsibilities. She might have been a moody loner, but she did all of her tasks without being distracted and only stopped to eat or play by herself once her work was over.

She also remembered how the other chamber maids, young and old, used to gossip when they should have been working, and she wondered if all people were like that. Down in the sea and up on land.

Whether she agreed with his words or not, she liked the way he handled horses better than the other men, and that was what was important to Seras.

"You want to come up and pet her?" Captain Bernadotte asked her one day.

Seras was a little uneasy, but came over to pet the filly as she was being untacked.

The filly often got a bit testy when Seras was around, but the captain didn't let him bother him any.

"Carter really did a number on her," he said. "I don't think she's used to having more than one person around her unless it's to flog her. She's got to get used to having many people around, though. Here, give her this carrot. I think she'll like it."

While Seras always broke her carrot into pieces before giving it to horses for fear of them biting off too much and choking, she only held out the end for the filly because she was afraid of getting bitten otherwise.

The filly eventually settled down to the young lady's presence, though she remained snappy and irritable if they both tried to work with her at once. So, Seras tended to just hang back and watch.

"I'm thinking of calling her Ginger," Pip told her once, "Not just because of her color, but because she snaps."

Seras furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"You know. 'Ginger snaps,' like the treats?"

Seras cocked her head.

Pip was beside himself. "You've never had ginger snaps?!"

Seras shrugged.

"How have you never even heard of one?! Those are a favorite of kids!"

Now she felt defensive. Why did humans always assume she had to know of things they did?

Because they thought she was human, Seras thought.

"You must have had a very deprived childhood," he said.

His words made her spirit sink. 'You don't know the half of it.'

So the next day she came out to the stables, she found a box of ginger snaps waiting for her on her horse's tack. She opened the box and tried one. It wasn't as sweet as the desserts she was used to. In fact, at first it tasted very bitter and tart at once and she nearly spat it out. It was an acquired taste though, and she eventually got to munching on them.

She even started sharing them with the horses when they took an interest. When she came near the ginger filly again, she fed her some ginger snaps.

When he saw her do this, the captain laughed and laughed. "I like your sense of humor, ma cher!" he exclaimed.

Seras smiled. Finally, someone thought she was funny because of something she meant to do and not just something foolish she had not intended.

Seras loved being around the horses, but she loved her Old Grey best of all. She felt his temperament was best suited for her. He was calm and patient, and very pliable. He responded to her every touch, tended to be very calm and mellow, and enjoyed the little things she did. He liked having his head scratched, often draped his head over her shoulder, and allowed her to hold his head in her arms and lean her cheek against his forehead.

Whenever Seras tried to pet some of the other horses, they would jerk their heads away. Captain Bernadotte said they were "head shy," or were afraid of being touched on the head. He said it was likely they had been whipped or struck in the face so many times they were afraid to get touched there. Even really sweet, gentle, well-meaning girls like herself did not ease their fear.

Seras felt terrible. Was it really so common to mistreat horses that being "head shy" was common? Why did no one try to prevent it?

Captain Bernadotte didn't tell her all upsetting things though. During her time in the stables, at one point he and a few other grooms told her how her Old Grey came to be.

"He was a beautiful pedigree colt from a famous stallion," they explained, "A finer temper, there never was. It was clear he would make a good lady's horse. He was bought for some noble lady that wanted a beautiful dappled grey. There wasn't a horse with a finer grey coat nor a more graceful gait in all the region. The Grey Ghost, he was called, not just because of his coat but the silent graceful way he moved. They say he seemed to glide out of the morning fog as his mistress road in her daily ride."

Pip smirked sardonically. "What she didn't realize was horses lose their grey as they get older—"*

No! Seras didn't believe it!

"It's true! They become greyer and whiter as they get older. They become a deep iron grey from an early age. When they become just a few years old, they start developing dapples, which are white spots in their dark grey coat. As they get older, the dapples get bigger, and the white hairs start to grow all over, till they become a lighter grey all over. After several years, they become a sort of 'flea-bitten' grey, or white with little freckles everywhere. Over time, become white everywhere."

"The lady was not happy to learn this," one of the men said. "She thought she was getting a beautiful dappled grey for life, only to find the horse loses its dark grey and dapples in a few years. She was so mad she sold him outright, and the Count picked him up when he moved here, so here he is."

Seras looked her horse over. It was true his coat had a light grey and the white dapples not fully distinct, but his head, neck, shoulders, muscles, and legs were so finely shaped that she would never have thought him unattractive. Even his coat, which was nothing to write home about, did not seem so unattractive to her.

Captain said the men jokingly called her horse "Old Grey" because he was old enough that his lovely dappled coat was almost gone, but he was still quite young.

"He's about eight to ten, and horses live to be about 20 or so, so I'd say…" Captain Bernadotte thought about it, "he'd be around his late twenties, early thirties. Same age as me!"

Seras couldn't resist. She scrawled down, "Wow, you are ancient."

He laughed. "Hey!"

Seras smiled, for she alone knew her people lived to be centuries. Around three decades is as good as three years to a mermaid.

"I must admit I was planning on teaching you how to ride on this horse, before passing you off to a different one; one who is younger, prettier, and female, because the Count's stallion gets testy around other males, even if they are gelded..."

Seras learned during her stay on land that male horses, or stallions, were very aggressive around other males because they wanted all the female horses, or mares, all to themselves. On top of all the other ways he made money, her master bred his stallion to other mares in the stables and sold their beautiful offspring for a lot of money. There were only a few geldings in the stable, from before he learned his beloved stallion would not tolerate their presence, but he felt they made good carriage horses and so on. Seras now understood why her master's stallion got testy when she came out.

"But you seemed to love this horse so much I thought you should keep riding him."

Seras was glad he did. She had to admit she had assumed they would just teach her with this "Old Grey" before moving onto her own horse too, but she was relieved to keep this one. She had grown very attached to her Old Grey and enjoyed riding him best of all. She was also now looking forward to seeing him grow white, as the others said he would.

The rides grew steadily faster and longer, until their own sweet-smelling wood could no longer satisfy her master's wanderlust. For reasons unknown to her, the Count began taking Seras riding to further territories so that they may see and explore "the charming English countryside," as he called it.

On such excursions, he brought Captain Bernadotte with them. Seras suspected that it was because she slowed down and got lost that one time, but he seemed to just provide all of their basic needs.

Sometimes they would ride a carriage to further places, where they would ride for hours or even a whole day, and stay in lodgings as they road around exploring the beautiful English countryside. Seras was happy, for she had always wanted to explore the beautiful world above and was thrilled for the chance, although sometimes she missed the chance to spend time with Schrodinger.

"I am sure you have wondered which country I am from," he said.

Seras had not. Yes, she knew he had an accent, but then all humans possessed accents to Seras. The people under the sea had their own ethereal voices and speech patterns that were unlike any of those above land. Her master had the most beautiful rollicking melody of a voice, with flowing words and syllables that rolled together. She knew his accent was different from most of those on land, but then many humans sounded different from each other. Captain Bernadotte sounded different from the Wild Geese crew, who sounded different from the maids, who sounded different from the chef's assistant, and so on.**

"I come from a country far away from this so charming land," he said. "Out in Transylvania, the land known in your tongue as 'beyond the forests,' the hills roll on forever and the mountains go beyond the horizon as they reach for the heavens. It is a land far above the sea, where even the lowest flatlands rest high enough to touch the clouds. It is a land often shrouded in clouds and fogs, with the fields and trees made an even deeper emerald green than this country from the constant rainfall. It is a dark land, often thought savage and shrouded by your people…"

Seras realized that he believed her to be British.

"And even so, that is what I miss about it. You have all civilized this land. Out in Transylvania, you can ride for days and never see the end of the wild hills, forests and mountains. It is a land that has not been tamed by vast industrial farms or cities. It has been tempered only by small villages that pepper the hills, filled with little farms and orchards between the vast fields and forests, along the mountains that forever reach up to the sky."

Seras was enchanted by such a vivid picture he painted of his home.

He leaned back in the carriage seat, "Sometimes I miss the rugged terrain, the high mountains, the wild weather. This island is so small and tame. The land is flat, the fields long since tilled. All animals worth pursuing have long been hunted to extinction. I came to this country hoping to find a challenge, but alas, England's 'teeming millions' have been long as tame as the land."

Seras did not fully understand what her master was talking about, but realized he was homesick, and she stroked his hand to let him know she cared.

At one point, they went to visit the "Lake District," which she understood was greatly celebrated for its natural beauty and wonder. When they arrived, the little mermaid was not disappointed.

Seras thought it was a beautiful place; more beautiful than any they had seen thus far. She loved the lush green grass, the deep emerald trees, the crystal clear blue water, the deep sapphire skies, and the thick white clouds that sent shadows on the Lake District. There were hills and mountains as far as the eye could see, one after the other. Between the green hills and mountains were huge lakes that were so clear they perfectly reflected the trees, hills, mountains and clouds above them like a giant looking glass.

She and her master and captain rode for many hours along the lakes of the district, enjoying the air that was as clear as the water and the sights of the lovely hills and mountains and skies. They rode along stone roads, over cobblestone brides, along winding dirt paths along the hills. They saw cows and goats grazing in open grass fields, they passed small villages and farms where little people lived in stone huts.

Her master was overjoyed by such a ride. Seras remembered how he described his home and how this place looked the most like it of any place they had visited thus far. He often took to the winding paths atop the hills where they could see the lakes and farmlands below, and he wished to ride atop the mountains.

They rode through a region in the Lakeside that was higher than all the others, where even the lowest land was high enough that the air felt very thin. They eventually reached a summit that was dangerous for the horses, so that they had to leave them in the care of Captain Bernadotte. She climbed up high mountains with the Count. Though her corset bound her lungs so that she struggled to breathe, she only laughed at the captain's concert and followed the Count on until they could see the clouds driving far below, like a flock of swans in flight to distant lands.

Only on Captain Bernadotte's insistence did her master stop often enough that their horses could get proper rest and refreshment. He often leaned back against the trees, looking very happy and content in this land. Seras would pat her Old Grey as he drank from the lake or river, and would have done the same had the captain not held out a canteen for her to drink instead.

"Non, non, you don't want that," he said. "The water's not fit to drink. Here, have this instead."

Seras pointed to the Old Grey because she saw the horses were drinking just fine.

"They're horses. They can handle water we humans can't," he smirked. "Rather like food."

Seras used to feel curious about the foods horses ate - hay, grains, oats, bran mashes, and other things - and would try to sneak a taste, only to promptly spit it out. Yuck! How could anyone or anything eat this?! But the horses went gaga over it when they saw the grooms approach with their food, so what did she know?

The Captain liked to tease her about it every chance he got, and so she splashed him.

This bit about water didn't sound right either. Were humans so delicate that they couldn't eat or drink things that other animals could just fine? But she accepted the canteen and drank like humans should.

Though he liked to mock her, Captain Bernadotte always made sure she had what she needed. When he saw her having trouble breathing he made her slow down, when they paused to rest he always offered her food, when she started to feel thirsty he always held out the water. In a way, he seemed to know what Seras needed before she even did.

Captain Bernadotte often came out with Seras and the Count to take care of things the former two could or would not. He often made arrangements to get lodging so her master did not have to deal with common folk, saw that their luggage was taken where it should, saw that their horses got the care they needed, held the map and directions, reminded her master of things he needed to do that he did not care to remember, and so on.

Seras did not mind looking after the Old Grey. While this was not possible in their lodging as almost all resting places had stables for traveling horses and grooms to look after them, up here in the mountains the Captain Bernadotte found a willing partner in his work. Seras held the reigns of her own grey as he drank from whatever streams or lakes they were near, while the Captain took care of the stallion.

At one resting point Seras attached the long lunge line she had filched from the stables and let her grey wander around eating whatever grass suit his fancy, while she sat on a tree trunk and watched him in bemusement.

The Captain, who had his hands full with the restless stallion that constantly wanted to move around, laughed. "You clever girl!" he exclaimed.

Seras enjoyed this Lake District almost better than any other. When she was a little mermaid looking up at the green hills, mountains, and clouds in the sky from below the sea, this was what she dreamed the land would look like. When she first decided to leave the dark ocean behind to come up to land, this is what she had hoped to experience. Moving around to different places, seeing all the beauty and wonders the world above had to offer. This was so beautiful and fun, she wished it could last forever.

Of course, Fate always decides to throw a rock in our path just as we decide we love something.

As they rode along a high ridge, they came across some men on horseback and a large carriage. At first her master tried to run passed them, but there were so many they blocked the path. Her master then grew very impatient, and demanded they get out of the way. They claimed that their carriage was broken down and they needed assistance. Her master responded that their carriage was standing up just right, and if they were going to claim they were broken down the least they could do would be to pop a wheel off or turn it on its side in a ditch.

Seeing their rouse seen through, the men chuckled and several men with guns and knives got out.

"Highwaymen," she heard Captain Bernadotte gasp, and he started to back his horse up.

"I won't say it again, we need 'assistance' with our carriage," said the leader of the gang.

"And I say again, you look like you need none," the Count smirked.

"Then it seems we are at an impasse."

"Indeed!"

Her master and the men looked thrilled. Seras and Captain Bernadotte were very uneasy.

What happened next was very sudden. The men got out a metal hand-held contraption (what Seras learned was a pistol) and let out a shot that caused a loud bang. The horses then started at the noise. Her master grinned and laughed widely and removed a pistol from his own coat, as his stallion reared to meet the challenge. At the same time, Captain Bernadotte yelled for her to run, and urged his own horse to flee.

When a few of the strangers started to advance upon her, Seras urged her own horse to turn tail and flee as well.

The next several minutes were pure chaos. Her master fought the group in front. The captain and she fled with several gang members following her.

"Run as fast as you can and keep to winding roads!" he called to her, "It'll be harder for them to hit a moving target!"

What happened next can only ever be seen in a high-chase film.

One of the thugs came upon Seras with a knife. Seras reached for the riding crop she never used but the grooms always made her bring with her, then slashed him across the face. This caused him to reach for his face, which kept him from directing his horse, which caused it to slow down enough that she could get away. Another tried to do the same with a long whip

Off to the side, Captain Bernadotte rammed his entire horse into the other fellow's and elbowed him in the face, nearly unseating him. This caused them to slow down enough to he could get away.

"Say, you're really good!" he cried.

Seras smiled.

It was a long but frightening couple of minutes. The highwaymen had gotten their carriage running and were chasing her and her master along the mountain. He was having a grand old time felling enemy after enemy as he went. They heard guns go off and horsewhips crack. Seras and Captain Bernadotte were just concerned with getting away.

After felling another would-be robber, Captain Bernadotte rode up beside her. Their hearts were racing as fast as their horses, which in turn were at a fast canter. Most of the thugs were now cleared and her master was likely to finish the rest. They smiled at each other.

Then, Seras' smiled dropped. In a single instant, she both yanked the reigns to make her horse stop, and then used her crop to strike his horse's flank to make it move faster.

What happen next hit him like a freight train. It hit his horse only from behind, so that she stumbled terribly and nearly lost her footing, but Thank God did not fall or break anything. It kicked up a lot of dust and caused her great distress, but no life-altering damages, as he was going to thank God later.

Seras was not so lucky. She saw it coming and tried to stop. Too late. One of the robbers had swerved around and tried to ram them off the cliff. The front of the offending horse had only hit Captain Bernadotte's horse from the flank, so it was confused but ultimately unharmed. This large draft horse rammed Seras' Old Grey broadside, and caused them both, horse and rider, to fly clean off the path and into the air.

They were still on the winding path inside the ridge. The hill was steep beneath the path. It was as good as being forced off a cliff.

For one terrible moment her horse seemed to hovered in the air, and Seras could only clutch the reigns.

They say time slows down directly before a tragedy. When one is about to fall; when one sees someone aim a gun just as they start to pull the trigger; when one sees two carriages about to impact.

For one terrible instant - instant that seemed to last for eternity - the Old Grey seemed to hover in the air and Seras atop him. She looked shocked, numb. Her eyes met Captain Bernadotte's, and she stared blankly. She slowly reached out her hand, and then time slowly seemed to speed up as they fell down.

He heard the defending snap of a twig or branch as the two disappeared in the thick brush along the steep hill. They would tumble. They would fall. They would no doubt crash or scrape against thick branches and trees that littered that steep hill. The horse's bridle would or could no doubt get tangled up in some branch too thick to go with him. If he didn't, he could roll. With the girl on his back...

The Captain was so enraged he pulled out the pistol he had not used because the girl was too nearby, aimed it at the murderer's face and pulled the trigger.

The rest of the robbers were dispatched quickly, and their master was extremely proud of himself.

"Oh, marvelous!" he cried, "I have not had so much fun in ages! So this is what your country has to offer!"

"Seras fell down the cliff!" Pip cried.

"What?!"

"Those assholes pushed her off the cliff! Hurry!"

They soon raced down the ravine, which was almost as steep as a ridge. They were not hopeful that she had survived, but if she had... if there was any hope...

The men found her at the bottom of the ravine, near the creek. She looked distressed and harried, but visibly unharmed. The horse lay on its side, with his head cradled in her lap. Huge and no doubt heavy as it was, the horse kept groaning and writhing, yet the girl kept holding his head closer and caressing his forehead to keep him from trying to get up.

"Oh, Dieu merci!" Pip gasped again as he reached her. "Thank God you are alive! Are you all right?"

She nodded.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, and he ran his hands up her arms and shoulders to make sure nothing was broken. "What happened? Did you break any bones?"

She shook her head again, then gestured frantically toward the Grey.

One closer look and the men knew it was over. The horse had broken no less than two legs. Even one broken leg for a horse was a death sentence. The horse was clearly distressed and in pain, and would have thrashed about if he had use of his legs. The girl seemed also distressed for him and kept trying to hold him still and sooth him into calmness, yet the horse could not be consoled.

"Captain Bernadotte, get her away from here," the Count said.

"All right ma cher, come on, this way…"

His touch was soft and his voice was soothing.

Captain Bernadotte spoke to her more kindly and gently than she ever heard him speak to anyone, ever. With much caressing and cajoling, he persuaded her to stand and he led her away, back toward his and the Count's horses. He caressed her hand and ran his other hand along her arms to make sure nothing was broken. He told her as calmly as he could what they needed to do, how they needed to make sure she had not broken any bones, make sure she could move properly, they would soon take her to a doctor, and so on.

The Count was not so gentle. He loaded his pistol, and, as soon as they were a respectable distance away, he aimed it at the Grey's forehead.

Seras started and darted her head back when she heard the blast.

Horror and trauma did not even begin to describe how she felt as she saw her beloved Grey lie still, and her beloved Count pocket his gun as he rose. Her heart broke, her eyes flooded with tears, and her spirits sank.

"Sir, with all due respect, couldn't you have waited until we were safely away?"

"Servant, with all due disregard, there is no time. It broke its legs. It had to be put down. It's getting dark. We need to find a village."

Its leg was broken? It needed to be put down? What a monstrous thing to do! All because he was injured and needed help!

"Let's go, you two, don't dawdle."

Captain Bernadotte tried to lead her away, but Seras would not move. When he pulled harder she allowed him, but her whole body above her knees seemed to go limp, and she would not move.

"What's the hold up?" the Count demanded.

He had reached his stallion and looked back to find that neither of them had even approached the captain's mount.

Seras turned her tearful eyes away.

"I think she's sad for the horse," Captain Bernadotte said.

"She can be sad on the way. Bring her over."

He tried again but Seras barely moved her spine and limbs again hung like a scarecrow where she stood.

"What's wrong? Stop dawdling!" the Count snapped.

Seras flinched, but looked miserable. She couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

"Sir, if you would just give me a couple of minutes..." Captain Bernadotte snapped.

He felt confident that if he could just speak to her for a few minutes, he could cajole her into coming along of her own volition.

"We don't have a 'couple of minutes'!" the Count snapped, and descended upon them like the night. "The sun is setting! Deep shadows are falling into the ridge. Soon it'll be too dark to see, and we can either blunder around blindly in the dark until our horses break the rest of their legs, or stay here and freeze to death. I'm not staying here another minute because she wishes to mope about a worthless beast!'

'How can you say that?!' Seras thought miserably, and again gestured toward the fallen grey as tears streamed down her eyes.

"What is it, little Draculina? Do you expect us to stay here all night because your horse is dead? Do you expect a funeral? We don't have time to sit around and mourn every thing that dies!" He grabbed her by the scruff of her collar. "It is an animal! A beast of burden meant to carry humans around on its back, or pull heavy loads with its legs. When it's legs are broken, it is no use to us anymore! It can no longer serve its purpose, and so it must die! A horse without legs is as worthless as a carriage without wheels, and it must be disposed as such! That's the way it is! That's the nature of the world! I cannot change it. Not God, not the Devil, and not you!"

Seras was devastated. She could not speak or move, only allow tears to roll out of her eyes.

Seeing that he had wounded Seras, his own eyes had softened, and he looked truly remorseful.

"No..." he said softly, "It's just the way it is..."

He released her collar and walked away. When he reached his stallion, he paused. "Bring her along, Captain Bernadotte. We have to move."

Seras offered no more resistance. She looked completely absent and miserable, but allowed Captain Bernadotte to take her hand and lead her away. He helped her onto his mare, and then mounted behind her. He wrapped an arm around her torso to keep her steady, clicked with his heels and teeth and rode after the Count.

The girl was very silent and still. All she could do was bury her face in her hands and weep.


* When I made Seras' horse an old dappled grey, I didn't realize it's technically not possible because horses lose their dark gray and dapples as they reach the double digits, and horses live to be about 20-30. So I decided to make him a soft dapple about to become "flea-bitten," that was cast off by his former owner when she learned he wouldn't keep his pretty dapple gray coat all his life (as I did), and the men just call him "Old Grey" to make fun of his former owner.

** I forgot to describe accents. Since the Count is a Transylvanian nobleman, you can imagine that he has a Transylvanian accent, like in Alucard's English dub flashbacks (when he is defeated by Hellsing) and when he reaches Control Art Restriction Level 0 and appears to Integra and Seras has Vlad III Dracula. I've decided to write it off as Seras thinking all humans have accents, which makes sense since people living below the sea would have different speech patterns than those living on land, and so never found his accent particularly noteworthy compared to other humans; just his voice.