Author's Note: Thank you all so much for all your reviews and comments. Believe it or not, in the original short story, the prince really did believe the church girl was the one that saved him, pined for her long before he saw her again, then dumped the little mermaid like a rock the moment he found the girl he ACTUALLY wanted. Most readers feel the original story was such a tragedy because of... well... but I personally feel the prince was never worth it.

Disclaimer: I clearly have no legal claim or financial gain to any version of Hellsing or The Little Mermaid. What, you think I get paid by the word? Not at all.


The little mermaid was absolutely miserable now that the Count was reunited with the church girl. By all rights, she should be happy for him since he found the girl of his dreams. Since she wanted to be that girl, she was quite jealous and miserable.

Seras remained inside for the next few weeks while her leg healed. She was in terrible pain after having to sit in a long carriage ride and then walk to and stand all night at the ball to meet with the Church Girl in the first place. Even Walter, who never said a cross word to her master, asked why he felt the need to drag her about when he knew her leg was injured before they even left for London?

"The doctor was a hack," the Count dismissed.

"Be that as it may, a sprain is still a sprain," Walter said. "She needs rest, and sleep, and to keep her leg elevated until the sprain completely heals."

"She is much stronger than any of you chivalrous gentlemen give her credit for," the Count said.

"Indeed sir, but she is also a living, breathing young lady," Walter said, "Who feels pain even if she does not have a voice to speak of it."

The Count was taken aback, and eased up on Seras from then on.

Later that night, as Seras lay in bed with her leg hurting, the Count walked in as silent as a shadow. To Seras' pain-hazed eyes, he seemed to morph in from the shadows, dark and mysterious. He then sat down at the edge of her bed, with his back toward her, his face inclined to look at her from profile.

"And how do you fair this evening, my little foundling?"

She smiled on hearing him, and tried to sit up to greet him, but he pressed her back down with the tips of his fingers.

"Shh, rest now. I know you are far more injured than you care to let on," he paused. "I shall call a doctor later tonight to have another look at you, to see if there are any other injuries that quack overlooked."

Notice the Count did not admit his own personal shortcoming in assessing Seras' last injury. He had been in such a hurry to get to London to see Lady Integra that he assumed Seras was fit to travel, instead of taking the time to see what shape she was truly in and how ready she was to travel, stand, and walk again.

"In the mean time," he continued, "I will have Walter bring your meals up here in bed. You are to rest for now."

Seras tried to protest in her silent way, but he gently ran a finger down the side of her face, effectively silencing her.

"You must recover quickly, my dear," he grinned. "So that you may join me for the social season."

Seras was a little disappointed, but nodded.

As it turns out, the "quack" had been correct in his second prognosis. Her leg was indeed broken, and she needed to keep her weight off it. It was a small break, so on the first look the doctor had been hesitant to diagnose it as such because he coudn't imagine what a gentle little lady such as herself would be doing to cause a snap. After he learned she had fallen off a horse, the break seemed more likely. Of course, by that point the Count assumed his first diagnosis was the correct one, and sent him away and treated Seras' injury as a minor sprain without another thought.

Walking on it had only made her condition worse.

It never seemed to occur to the Count that no matter how severe her injury, Seras' leg was still injured and she needed to treat it with care. It never seemed to occur to him that just because Seras bore the pain bravely didn't mean she wasn't in pain at all.

While Seras could never bear to hear anyone say anything bad about her master, she rather had to agree with Walter. She would walk to the ends of the earth for her master; jump into the laviethan's jaws, run through the Gates of Hell, and even treaded on a road of knives if she had to... but she didn't want him to want her to do it. Seras couldn't articulate it, even to herself, but while she felt willing to do anything for a man she loved, she felt a man worth loving would never ask her to do it.

Regardless, Seras was thrilled to have her master come to her room to talk to her again. He came in to look at her every morning before he went out to town, and came to sit and talk to her every evening after he had returned.

Her room was still rather poorly lit, with little gas lamps on either side of her door, so seeing her beautiful dark master among the dark shadows, of black and orange and dark red from the colors on the wall, was very lovely indeed.

However, her master never stayed with her long. Whether Seras was able to accompany him or not, he was to enjoy the social season of London, and enjoy he did. It seemed every morning he would go out for some sort of walk, invitation to tea, luncheon, invitation to the ballet (whatever that was), dinner party, charity even ball...

Though she knew she couldn't leave bed, Seras felt a little hurt that her master no longer wanted her by his side every moment of every day. Nor that he was patient enough to stay by her side longer than a few minutes. Once, he could barely sit through one of her riding lessons before he ordered her back at his side. Once, he could not wait for lessons with her governess to be over and would settle in a nearby chair to read while she taught Seras the three R's, over her protests.

Once, He wanted her to join him for ever meal, every excursion, every walk about the gardens, every ride around the woods, and so on. He wanted her to join him in the parlor while he read books and wrote letters, and join him as he drank wine and gazed at the moon from the balcony. Walter even said the Count set up the tea room and started drinking tea every day just for her, after she came to them.

Now, Seras was lucky to see her master longer than the time it took him to describe his day.

He was too busy courting the church girl to pay her any mind.

Her master seemed to think of no one else. He certainly talked of no one else. The weeks of agitation and restlessness they had all endured leading up to their ride at the Lakeside were now replaced with enthused contentment. Her master seemed content in such a way one is when they're pleased with where they are and where they are going in life, when he wasn't also eagerly making plans or heading to his next outing.

Every moment the Count could schedule to meet with Lady Integra, he did with gusto. He sent her letters and telegrams by the hour. He learned where she was to be and tried to arrange permission from her and possibly her guardians to meet her there. He invited her out to dine, luncheon, and tea. He made connections with those in her social circle and got invited to balls and parties they threw, so as to gain good favor with them and eventually be present to events she was to attend.

She knew what he was doing, too. The servants gossiped endlessly on it, which Seras eagerly listened because she had nothing else to do as she lay in bed.

"... So she says to him, she says:

'My father has warned me of gentlemen like you.'

'Like what, my lady?' he asks."

"Good accents!"

"Thank you! So she says:

'The kind that pursue a lover's heart as though it were a hare. It is the chasing you enjoy, more than the catching. Once the hunt is over and you have caught me, what then?'"

"She said that?! So she knows of master's reputation!"

"Indeed, she said it's the first thing her grandfather warned her about, the moment he first tried to contact her. It's also why she didn't respond to his letters for several months, to see if he was quite serious."

"Mercy!"

"You don't say!"

"She's a smart girl," said Gretchan, "I mean, really, he turns up nearly drowned on her beach, becomes taken with her as she's the girl to find him and rescue him, spends only one afternoon with her as the sisters get him the help he needs, then he declares his undying love for her and sends letter after letter assuring her she is his heart's content?"

"And right after he jumped from one deep love to another," added Maudy.

"And right when he had, in fact, been had been pursuing some other woman - a married woman, no less - by ship which caused him to be drowned in the first place."

"Indeed!"

Seras knitted her eyebrows in confusion. Jumped from one love to another? Pursued another woman on that ship? Married - Oh! Now she remembered! Seras remembered when Captain Bernadotte had weakly protested the Count pursuing that woman who had been married, and the Count had said how she had gotten engaged before meeting him and likely only thought it her duty to stay in a loveless marriage over a more suitable one.

Seras had forgotten the Count had fancied another woman. It was his beautiful words about the love of a woman changing his entire world, and a woman's character over her appearance being what mattered to him.

"Well, what did he say? How did he react?" Maudy pleaded.

Oh, right. Her master's current devotion to some other woman, Seras thought miserably.

"Oh, right," Gretchen cleared her throat. "So, she says all that, then he says to her, he says: 'It's quite simple, my lady. Once I have captured your heart - if you could indeed call it a capture, for I know your heart belongs only to you, and whom you choose to lend it to, and how easily you can take it back... I would spend the rest of my life striving to bring you happiness."

Seras felt her heart stabbed by jealousy.

The maids felt pierced by a different weapon; Cupid's arrow, perhaps?

"Oh!" they swooned.

"How romantic!"

"If he truly means it."

"Gretchen!"

"I'm sure I'm not the only one here who thinks he sounds like he's only saying what she wants to hear..."

Seras couldn't listen anymore. She had always hoped the courtship was going poorly, despite how adamantly her master recollected every encounter, but now that she heard from someone besides her master of his interactions with Lady Integra, it seemed like just another nail in the coffin.

'Then again,' Seras thought miserably, 'She doesn't seem like she believes him, so maybe she'll reject him so I have a chance...?'

She was torn between feeling scorn for the woman for not feeling adequately grateful for the devotion her master was showing her, as Seras would have died of happiness on the spot if her master had said such things to her... and being glad the girl wasn't biting as it meant there was still a chance for her.

While Seras loved her master and wanted him to be happy... she also wanted him to be happy with her, darn it! They had wonderful times, why couldn't they go back to enjoying that? Seras felt terrible to think of the broken heart he would feel if the church girl rejected him, or even chose another (Seras' heart floated at the thought), but... given time, he would grieve, slowly recover, turn to Seras for comfort, realize how much more loyal and devoted and happy she could make him...

Maybe after an appropriate time of grieving, he would confide his feelings of grief and loneliness to Seras as he had done on that night on the balcony under the full moon, and slowly look up into her eyes and see the love, devotion, and understanding he claimed he had adored in the first place, then realized how much more she loved him than she ever could, then they could live happily together forever...

"My little foundling, you will never guess the good news!" her master exclaimed excitedly when he rushed into her room.

Seras' heart froze. Oh no, please don't let it be something bad.

"I went to see Lady Hellsing today, and she allowed me to hold her hand!"

WHAT?! This was the big news?! The woman he had been chasing amost single-mindedly for weeks, who barely seemed to like him or allow him to reach a deeper aquaintenceship besides "just another man to make small talk with at the periphery of her social circle" allowed him to hold her hand, and this was enough to ring the bell and pass out punch to the servants?!

Seras thought with sickly miserable jealousy that if he had put a fraction as much effort into being around her, they should never have parted even to use the privvy!

Yuck, Seras thought.

Regardless, her master was overjoyed to be around Lady Integra. He was a changed man. He was as courteous as he was driven, passionate, and amorous. His devotion to her was unmistakable, even to those outside their social circles. He did not even seem to mind being surrounded by people all the time, as London was full to bursting with people (sometimes hanging out of every window), nor did he even seem to mind making small talk with men she knew he thought were fools.

As previously stated, her master could be very charming when he wished to be, but before the Season he never seemed to find a reason. So far, he had only really been charming toward Seras, and so she had believed she as special. Now, he seemed to have quite forgotten about her and acted charming and engaging with anyone, so long as it meant he could later get an audience with Lady Integra.

Of course, that was only to their faces. When the Count came to see Seras at the end of every day, he complained of how insufferably idiotic most of the London elite were. How drab and dull, how self-centered and self-involved, how petty and insignificant. He complained of all the idiotic conversations he had to suffer through, how many fools he had to feign politeness for, how many events he did not wish to attend just for the sake of the woman he loved.

"If only you could accompany me into society, as I had originally planned," he said, "These events would be far more tolerable."

Seras then felt, like a stab to the stomach with cold iron, that he had only wanted her to accompany him into society not because he enjoyed her company, but because he found her more tolerable than everyone else.

He never wanted to bring her into society to enjoy her company, but to use her to make the pursuit of the girl he really wanted much more bearable.

Once, while he was talking, Seras got so mad she flung herself away from him, lay on her pillow with her head turned away and her arms crossed, and ignored him as he spoke.

"What's the matter?" he asked by the time he realized she wasn't paying attention.

She ignored him, determined to make him try to get her attention as he did with that Lady Hellsing.

It should be noted that, at this time in the courtship, Seras was only 16.

Instead, he eventually gave up and went away.

Seras was devastated. He didn't even try to get her to look at him! He would chase that girl all up and down London for weeks on end, but he wouldn't take a few extra moments to try to get her to look at him.

'I see what I meant to you,' she thought miserably, and wept bitter tears all night long.

This was hard to do because she had to flip around on her stomach to cry easily, which just hurt her leg far more, which just made her cry harder.

This realization hurt Seras very deeply, and she fell into a deep depression.

Once, Seras had a strong zest for life. She loved to eat, drink, run, play, and explore all that the surface had to offer. Now, she was pale and sick with jealousy. It infected her like a poison and left her pasty, clammy, and sickly. She had little energy, and no longer cared to exert it.

She hated London; hated the London elite, the London pollution, the London house; the London everything. She wanted to go home, back to her master's castle by the sea; where the air was fresh and salty, the sounds were birds singing and waves crashing, and the view was lovely sea and greenery for miles and miles around. When she shared her desire though, she was made accutely aware that if she went back, she would go back alone. Her master was in London to pursue Lady Integra, and London he would stay.

This only made Seras even more miserable. Stuck in a city she hated, breathing air she couldn't stand, hearing terrible ruckus outside her window all hours of the day; unable to stand or walk without pain, unable to leave her horrible little room, unable to keep her master's attention; her pain felt worse and she seemed to waste away.

Seras wished she could make them understand she meant it when she wrote, "I'm not hungry."

Once, her governess had to fight to keep her plate from emptying too fast, or piling up with too many desserts. Now, the servants had to beg, cajole, and wheedle to get Seras to touch anything on her plate. She pecked at her food, took small bites of a few things (a green bean here, a spoonful of broth there), but she no longer had any appetite. She once ate every meal in the dining hall with her master, who showered her with attention and affection, and now she ate in bed, alone.

She thought, what's the point of eating anything? I'm not going anywhere.

She also realized the food they gave her was for humans, and she was not human.

She looked human, she tried to act human, but it seemed to hit her she was not human. She never was. She only pretended to be to try to win the man she loved. She used to sit with him at every meal and eat everything he ordered because she wanted to be with him, like a wife with her husband. Now he no longer cared to sit or eat with unless he had nothing better to do, and she suddenly felt so stupid. She had pretended to be human for him and now he didn't even care for her, so why bother?

One afternoon, as she lay in bed staring miserably out the window, she heard a knock at the door. She turned her head to see Captain Bernadotte burst through carrying a large silver tray, grinning and dancing around, singing cavalry music. "Duh-duh-dah-dah! Duh-duh-dah-dah! Dah-dah-dah-dah!"

He then spun around on his heels and placed the tray over her lap. "For you, Mademoiselle!"

Seras just stared. Her eyes were like saucers, and her mouth wide as a plate. Her face seemed to scream, "What on earth are you doing?!"

"Walter said you aren't feeling very well," he said, and shifted a fork closer to her. So I thought I'd bring breakfast in bed for the sick little chickie."

Seras was still completely amazed. Walter brought her food all the time, so what was this all about?

"Looks like you have everything here," he said, still cheerfully, "So eat up and recover your strength, so we can explore London together."

He then got up and took his leave. "I'm sure you know that if you need anything, you need only ring that little bell by your bed. In the mean time," he gave a deep bow from the waist at the doorway, "At your service!" and he left.

Seras could only stare in complete shock and silence for a long time. What? What?! What was that about?!

Regardless, his antics worked. His cheerful disposition helped ease her sorrow, even if she was unaware of it, and she ate a little more of her food than she normally would.

She still only ate a few bites of everything on her plate, but it was still more than she had consumed all week.

"Very good, sir," Walter said outside her door, as the maid took her food away. "I should have you bring her every meal."

"Nah, if you do it too much, she'll get used to it," Pip grinned as he lit a cigarette. "Once she gets used to it, she'll start to lose her hunger again. Best do it sparingly."

"And yet, she's barely eating anything without intervention," Walter said.

"She's just feeling a little low," Pip dismissed. "When she starts to feel better, she'll eat again."

"You don't understand, sir," Walter said. "She hardly touches her desset plate anymore."

That took Pip aback.

"Not even sweets?"

"Not even sweets."

"Merde!" Pip exclaimed, for the first time understanding how serious her situation was.

"We could wait until her leg recovers for her to feel better," Walter continued, "Yet, I'm afraid she might waste away in that time."

"So what you want me to to do about it?"

"Just go in every once in a while. Sit with her, talk to her, lift her spirits."

"Can't the maids to do it?" Pip asked.

He felt like he was the wrong person for the job, since Seras constantly glared and turned her head away from him.

"They've tried," Walter said, "But with little success. They say she just stares longingly out the window."

"Must be tough, having a broken leg," Pip said.

"Indeed, sir, which is something I think you understand better than anyone here, and which I think she will understand as well."

Pip hesitated. "Do you think it will work?"

"It's better than nothing, sir," Walter smiled. "Just go in an talk to her every once in a while. I think she misses the company," Walter added. "What with his Lordship being preoccupied with Lady Integra..."

Captain Pip Bernadotte didn't need to hear anymore.

So, on the few occasions he was not accompanying the boss into town, or taking care of business his boss couldn't be bothered to do, he found time to bring Seras her meal with a lot of pomp and circumstance.

He acted just as ridiculously cheerful as the first time, which made Seras stare in confusion and alarm, and talk to her cheerfully about various things. He also teased her, which he couldn't help, and which just made her frown and huff so cutely.

Seras, for her part, was confused as to what he was doing. She barely saw her master anymore, never got to see other people outside the town house, and the servants were always too busy talking to have anything to say to her (even as they cleaned her room, her sheets, or even her), so she had long felt alone and forsaken. She knew of few people besides her master who enjoyed spending time with her, and assumed everyone who didn't come to the town house had quite forgotten her.

Walter was always kind, which she was grateful for, but now in her depressed state she felt it was just his job to be nice to her. Even when her master or some guests downstairs were rude to him, he was unwaveringly polite to them, so perhaps his kindness to her was mere politeness also.

The servants were rather kind, but the kindest had been Carlotta, and Seras did not see her around at all. She wished she did. She missed her. Yet, she thought of Walter's fake politeness, and wondered if Carlotta had only been nice out of professional courtesy.

So, here was Captain Bernadotte, whom she thought she'd never see again except to do her master's bidding, who came into her room to bring her meals and talk to her so cheerfully. (With maids nearby as chaperones, of course.)

In some ways, she felt like he and his men existed only in her memories of the castle stables and gardens, where she used to see them work, or walk by to

"The Count says as soon as you get better, he wants to buy you another horse," Pip said at one point.

Seras face dropped, and she looked sadly down.

"You still miss that Old Grey, don't you?"

She nodded.

"'Ey," he said, and gave her shoulder a playful nudge. "Don't feel bad. He's moved onto a better place, where there's more tender fields of grass and hay than he can ever eat. And carrots too. Don't forget carrots."

Humans often talked of Heaven, the place all good people went when they died. The specifics made her doubt such a place existed, like how only humans who believed in a certain criteria about the world went there, while everyone else automatically went to eternal punishment just because they did one wrong thing, failed to take a special bath as babies before dying, or didn't believe in certain things about the Holy Father (whoever that was) or the sun.

She knew he meant well though, so she tried to smile.

Captain Bernadotte's visits were always pleasant. He was so kind and good-natured about everything. The way he smiled and leaned back seemed to come to him so naturally. He was always brimming with energy, yet there was a quiet, almost careless confidence about him that always made him seem so pleasant, so relaxing to spend time with. For Seras, who was quite anxious and depressed, this was just what the doctor ordered.

One day, Captain Bernadotte came into her room carrying a little brightly colored bag.

"A chocolate shop just opened across the street," he said, "So I thought you might like some."

It was the thought more than the gift that touched Seras so deeply. She wasn't hungry much anymore, but seeing such a beautiful, shimmering bag tied with a fluffy little ribbon made her feel so special, she clutched it close to her heart.

"Don't you want to open it?" he asked.

She held it more protectively to her chest, as though to say, "No, it's mine!"

He laughed. "All right, whenever you're ready!"

She grinned and looked at it happily.

She kept it close by her side for a long time yet, but never opened it because something inside her felt it should be saved for a special occasion. In the middle of the night, when she lay in bed alone, staring at the dark walls, with nothing but the sickly orange light of the street lamps outside her window, she would take out her brightly colored bag of chocolates (which she kept under her pillows the same way she used to hide sweets from the chicken) and look at the light reflected off its beautiful shimmering wrapping paper, and feel much happier.

Sometimes she thought of opening it and eating it, but she felt it would ruin the magic seal, and there was really no need because just admiring how beautiful it was, knowing what wonderful treats were waiting for her in the future, and running her fingers over the edges were enough for her.

That it was a gift from someone who didn't have to get her anything made it so much better.

She grew to really look forward to Captain Bernadotte's visits. Not as much as the visits from her master, of course, as she spent all day sitting up to be prepared for when he walked in for the evening, but she looked forward to them none-the-less.

Captain Bernadotte was never around very long, but he was always so cheerful yet casual, talked to her about random things, and always just seemed to enjoy her company. He wasn't put off by the fact that she couldn't talk (as most of the servants were), didn't talk down to her like the nobles, and... well... didn't talk about a girl he loved more than her as her master did.

"The ginger filly's doing well, by the by," he said, "She's finally been broken, and is now a mare. She rides like a dream, and jumps even higher."

Seras smiled.

"I don't even have to urge her toward it, she goes right for the jump, every time. She could probably set a record if she and an owner put their mind to it. Sometimes her excitement gets the better of her, and she heads right toward it without my urging. Apart from that, and the occasional moodiness when she's in heat, I can't find any fault with her."

Seras grinned. She liked hearing good news about the ginger filly.

She also remembered a time when she wasn't treated well though, and so wrote, "Is she treated well?"

"Oui, she's taken care of," Pip said. "She still gets rather spirited, and stomps her feet, pins her ears, and tries to snap when she thinks someone is not taking care of her right proper. But as long as you show you mean well, pet her and talk to her in a soothing voice, she calms down." He added, "I gave specific instructions before I left for London."

Seras' face fell. "Did none of them come to London?"

"Nah, not enough room," he said. "The boss is thinking about renting a small mansion on the outskirts of London, so he'll have all the perks of a large country home - gardens, stables, wide open space - near London, so everything of value doesn't have to be left behind for the entire Season."

Seras widened her eyes, then smiled. That was the best news she'd heard in... well, before London!

He smiled incredulously. "What, you mean you didn't know?"

She shook her head.

"Well, now you do."

Seras threw up her hands and made a big grin as though to scream, "Yay!"

He laughed.

Seras liked talking to him about horses, riding, the country, and so on. It reminded her of good times, the way things used to be, and how she hoped they would soon be again. When he talked of the future, about riding and the filly and future, he made it sound like these good times she felt were lost would occur again soon.

If only her mast left the same impression after his visits.

Her master often came in and talked about how much of a bore this, that, or the other was at this, that, or the other party, how tedious it was dealing with people without her there, how much he still longed to bring her to such odious functions in the future, so as to make the season worth enduring. Of course, this was usually followed by bragging about the amazing qualities of Lady Hellsing.

Seras always felt like her stomach was stabbed by cold iron when he talked about her, but he never seemed to notice, and prattled on and on. That he didn't notice that talking about Lady Integra every chance he got when he came to see Seras (even though they never spent more than fifteen minutes together in the entire day) upset her, hurt all the more.

In truth, Captain Bernadotte's visits only did so much to lift her spirits. Even though she came to look forward to them; felt her heart skip a beat every time he walked in from the door, felt herself smile and nod along as he talked about enjoyable subjects, and so on... it all seemed to come undone when her master came to see her every evening, just to talk of negative things and the woman he loved more than her.

What's more, Captain Bernadotte had to actually work for a living, so he could only come in to see her every so often. When he could he came in once a day, though occasionally he had to skip one, while the Count came in every evening.

Seras wondered what kind of a world she lived in that seeing Pip always left her feeling more happy afterwards than seeing her beloved.

One day the doctor was called back to examine Seras, to see how she was recovering. He eventually surmised that her leg had recovered enough that she could sit up and even leave her room if there was someone to carry her.

This was happy news for everyone, but especially Seras. Finally, she could sit up, move around, visit different rooms, and so on.

She thought this not the least because she could see the lights and hear the laughter downstairs when her master had dinner guests over, but she could never be part of the interaction.

Of course, because Walter was the cautious type, Seras moved up and about much more slowly than if she had had her way. It was just as well, because she had lost most of her walking muscles from laying in bed for so long (to say nothing of her lack of appetite and sleep, and general apathy, lethargy, and misery), and she fell outright after she tried to stand too suddenly.

"Captain Bernadotte, would you please lend us your assistence?"

"At your service, gov'ner!" he teased.

"... And please don't speak like that."

Captain Bernadotte laughed. "Right-o, chap!"

Walter sighed.

Pip lifted Seras as easily as though she were a pillow filled with down feathers, then winked at her. Seras felt the familiar blush and quicken of pulse and breath as she settled securely in his arms. As she felt the familiar muscles beyond the fabric, the heat of his body, the smell of musk and tobacco...

She met his eye, and saw how good-naturedly he smiled. She smiled weakly back.

Walter coughed awkwardly. "Perhaps we had best set her down in the drawing room. A little change of scenery might do her some good."

"Have her change rooms?" Pip said, "Are you sure that's safe, Mr. Dornez? What if such a simple transition from one room to the next might overexert the little lady?"

"Very funny, now would you please help with this?" Walter frowned.

He shrugged - an awkward action for Seras since she was still in his arms. "You are the butler," he said, and carried Seras easily to the next room.

She prefered not to make eye contact.

Seras had to admit that after being stuck in only one room for several weeks, it was both thrilling and terrifying to be in another. She'd seen the inside of the washroom and outside the window, and had a few "walkarounds" though the hallway, but not like this.

The drawing room was rather pretty too, though nothing like she was used to so far. It was decorated with white lacey table clothes over the, pink cushions and green leavy wallpaper. It looked as fresh and lovely as spring.

Now Seras understood why Walter wanted to bring her here. She felt refreshed already.

"Would you like some tea, Miss Victoria?" he asked with a slight bow.

She nodded, and he went and got it.

She relaxed and leaned back in the cushions. This was so much nicer than sleeping in that dark, drab, moth-bitten little room she once had to lay in, day in and day out.

Her master was thrilled to see her recovering too, which Seras was slightly surprised over. After how adamantly he had pursued Lady Integra, how he had taken Seras' own attention of him for granted, and had easily given up on her when Seras showed she did not wish to engage, she had started to doubt he really missed her absense.

"We shall have a big feast to celebrate your recovery!" he exclaimed as his hands cupped her shoulders.

"Er, her continued recovery," Walter corrected.

"Very well, order venison for dinner!"

"Very good, sir!" Walter said with a deep bow.

When they were sufficiently alone, sitting side-by-side on the green and pink sofa that reminded her of spring, the Count caressed her chin and whispered, "I am so pleased to have you back at my side, little foundling. It was just never the same without you."

Her heart skipped a beat, but not as violently as it once did, which confused her.

So Seras was back to officially drinking tea and sitting down to the occasional meal with her master. Part of her was extatic, another part felt like she should be more extatic than she was, and another part... well, felt like this was not as wonderful as she remembered.

Once, just the opportunity to be in her master's presence was the most dazzling treat in the world. Just the privilege to sit so intimately with him at the tea table, and to sit at the dining table like one of his peers, had been the highest honor anyong could think to bestow on her.

Now... something about these restored teas and meals were not as heavenly as she remembered. She could not understand why. She still loved her master, still loved being with him, still loved talking - well, being talked to - as he told her of various things...

But somehow, her long absence from her master got her used to being away from him. Now that she was back, it just wasn't the highlight of her life that it had once been.

The next few days were much better than the entire last several weeks combined. She felt happier and livelier, she ate more, she felt like she had a reason to wake in the morning and actually care about the passage of time.

While Seras still spent most of her days in bed, she now got to occasionally sit up on new things, in new places.

Of course, no one would let her move unless someone was around to carry her, and since she didn't want to be touched by anyone but her master or Captain Bernadotte, either of them needed to be around to carry her for the servants to even entertain the idea of letting her move. Seras then spent many a day in bed with her eyes narrowed, and her chin propped up on her hand.

"Oh no, don't make that face, little lady!" one of the maids exclaimed. "Everything we do is to keep you safe and healthy, so you can just wait there will your master returns!"

Then again, Seras had an independent streak no one could shame away, so when the maids weren't looking she hobbled around on one leg. She found that as long as she didn't put direct pressure on it or remain standing too long, she was just fine.

It was quite often that the maids would go over to where she had been, expecting to find her there, only to see her over in the next room or down the hall.

"Miss Seras Victoria!" they exclaimed (they only used her full name when she was in trouble), "How many times have we told you to wait for help getting around?"

She would smile sheepishly, in mock apology, then do it again first chance she got.

Since Seras was in that awkward transition stage between being injured enough to need rest, but mobile enough that she was not exclusively confined to it. when her master announced that he intended to host a dinner party, he told Seras she may come down whenever she liked. Her heart leapt at the chance, until he added that she would be there, "And I have so longed for you to make the other's acquaintance."

It felt like a stab to the heart.

When the dinner guests arrived the night of the dinner party, Seras was reluctant to go down. She remembered the "elite" that came to visit the castle, and worried that these people might not be as kind. Either they would judge her most brutally, or, even worse, she would be excempt from adult rules as a child is, and be paraded before them like a precious little child or obedient dog. Seras could not bear either.

She hovered near the doorway for a long time, shrouded in the darkness of the hall, looking in on the glittering light of the crystalline lamps. She heart tittering laughter, clinking of glasses, and the rustle of fabric. From the crack in the door she saw glittering jewels, fine silk and fur fabrics, and hair pulled up even without hats.

She could hear her mast speaking as charmingly as he could, and from the corner of the doorway could see him too. As soon as her master saw her, he immediately grinned widely and approached.

"Ah, my little foundling! Just in time!"

Seras winced and wished she could pull herself away as he introduced her to the first group of people he came across.

"My, my! She is rather lovely!" exclaimed one.

"Where'd you ever find such a stunning specimen? Distant relation, perhaps?"

"If only it were the case, madam," the Count said. "I found her washed up on shore, with not but a name or voice to call her own."

'You didn't find me,' Seras thought miserably, 'And I do have a name. I just did not have a voice to share it with.'

"Good gracious, child! Is she quite all right?"

"However did you ever fix her up so well?"

And once again her master repeated the story of how he had taken her in and given her everything she possessed now.

"Good gracious, my lord! I can only imagine how much difficulty you went through!"

"She really has cleaned up nicely though, has she not?"

Seras quickly grew tired of being the subject of debate; of people talking about her, not to her.

While they were admittedly far more friendly than those who had come to visit the castle a few months ago, the way they viewed and addressed her was not much better than before. One middle-aged woman, plump and wrinkled, placed a maternal hand on her shoulder, pulled her a little aside, and asked, "And how do you like England so far, my little foundling? It must be far more stunning than where you're from."

While well-meaning, the woman's presumption in calling Seras "my little foundling," which was something only her master called her; her assumption that Seras had never seen England before (she had been told since she arrived at the Count's castle that she looked like the ideal English Rose - whatever that was - if only her manners matched the ideal), or that England was automatically superior to where she was from, quite annoyed her. That Seras agreed and loved England far more than the sea floor was completely irrelevant. Seras had seen where she was from and could tell the difference. This woman just assumed the place she grew up was superior to any other place in the world.

With a frown, Seras took out her journal and wrote: "I have a name. It's Seras Victoria."

"Well..." the woman sniffed, a little put off by Seras' bluntness, "So it is..."

And she quickly found an opportunity to talk to someone else, and shuffled away.

Seras couldn't say she was sorry.

"She is quite lovely," said a hard, stern, heavily accented voice behind her, and Seras turned abruptly.

She was met with a pair of the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen.

Before her stood a man who looked, to her, to be of tall height and strong build, with his shoulders set back and his neck and head perfectly erect. Such posture struck Seras as one of thought and power. His head was noble and broad atop his broad chest. His grizzled face sported a hard square chin, a large resolute mouth, a good-sized nose, and big bushy brows beneath greying hair. Big, dark, intelligent, penetrating blue eyes seemed to see into her soul.

At once, Seras was struck by how stern the gentleman looked. No, stern doesn't begin to cover it. He seemed to possess an iron nerve, a temper of the ice-brook, and an indomitable resolution and self-command.

Seras curtsied instinctively, which was rare because she always had to be reminded. She could think of no other appropriate response.

Even the Sea King himself did not inspire such reverence.

The man seemed a little taken aback by her reaction, and said, not unkindly, "Nein, mein child, there ist no need."

She looked up timidly, wondering what such a gentleman could have to say to her.

Just then, the gentleman was joined by a younger man who shared vaguely similar features. He looked to be in his early to mid-thirties, tall and gangly, also with a rather impressive forehead and child. There was a similar intensity in his manner and gaze as the old gentleman, but not nearly as impressive, nor as well applied. He, too, possessed dark, intense, piercing blue eyes.

He looked much more relaxed and easy-going at the moment though, looking around with an eager smile.

"I say, old chap, quite the turnout, isn't it? Not at all what we were expecting..."

He had a vague accent, same kind as the gentleman before Seras, but he seemed to try to cover it with a more overt English accent and use of common sayings. Seras could not help suppressing a smile. Just like when Captain Bernadotte had teased Walter not too long ago with his own exaggerated English accent and sayings to cover his own French. "Right-o, chap!" and all that.

"Indeed, meine Sonne," the gentleman said. "The Count seem quite popular now."

"Oh, Indeed! Indeed!" the young man exclaimed, "Not at all what I expected. He seems very well-liked now. The scandal seems to have quite died out. Everyone in the party has nothing but good things to say about him. He is well-talked of everywhere else. Even the Earless of Canterbury, and she is impossible to please! It seems the old scoundrel has finally turned a new leaf - oh, what is this?"

He had caught sight of Seras.

"This is famous ward of Count Dracula."

"Oh..." he did a double-take, "Oh! She is quite lovely, is she?"

"Yes. This concern me."

Ignoring his son's confusion, the man stepped forward and addressed Seras exclusively. The closeness of his step and the intensity of his gaze made her nervous.

"Nein, dear child, there ist no need for that. I mean you no harm, no reproof. Only to ask simple question. Not even question, but friendly curiosity of concern well-wisher. You have not to fear from me, but kindly enquiring of old grandfather."

The kindness of his tone, and the gentleness of his manner, made Seras see that his eyes were quick and tender (with his mood) and his countenance reflected an all-embracing sympathy.

Seras raised her head slightly, and smiled self-consciously.

"Ah, much better, much better," the gentleman said. "Now, come, come. Let us sit over here, to drink tea und talk. Only a few question, only a few."

"Oh great, more tea," Seras thought with a sigh. She had grown to loath the stuff after several weeks in bed, with Walter coming in several times a day to bring her tea since he believed it would make her feel better. (It didn't.) She had heard from talk it was the "beverage of England," since during one of his visits to her room, Captain Bernadotte had mentioned that the English were obsessed with tea in a way that no other countries were, and which he didn't get, and Seras was immediately struck with a strong desire to exclaim, "Tell me about it!"

After they were comfortably settled and served, the old gentleman leaned forward and said, "So, you are the pretty ward of the famous Count Dracula. Your name is Seras Victoria, correct?"

Pleased that someone finally used her name, Seras grinned and nodded emphatically.

The man smiled and nodded. "Ja, I see by your eager nod you are not called such very often?"

Seras shook her head.

"Ah, such a pity then! Shame on such men, to neglect such lovely name for such lovely lady. I see already you are quite beautiful, and bright, and gentle. A rare gem

A genuine smile crept onto Seras' face. Finally, someone recognized her thoughts and spoke to her directly like a person.

"Tell me, does Count treat you well?"

Confused, Seras nodded.

"Ah, gut, gut," he nodded, and patted her hand with every "gut." "You must forgive prying of old man. It is not intrusion I wish on your happy home, but mere curiosity over..."

Before he could say another word, the church girl stepped forward, and both men stood abruptly. Seras instinctively frowned.

"Oh please, there is no Father, Grandfather," the young woman said.

The younger man smiled brightly. "Ah, mijn engeltje!" he exclaimed, and placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "Or, as they say here in England: my little angel!"

"Oh, father," the young woman said, with not a little embarrassment.

"What?" the man said. "Am I not allowed to show a hint of affection? Particularly as I have not seen you in so long?"

"You only saw me not ten minutes ago. I have only been to get some tea, and was delayed by General Scarsard."

"Yes, but with a grown daughter who has spent most of her life in the finest schools, and the last five years in a convent, is it not natural for a man to take every opportunity to bestow affection upon his only daughter?"

"It was a religious school, Father," the young girl said. "I was taught in every religious and noble virtue, that has been mastered by the good women of God, yet I myself was hardly confirmed."

"Yes, but with fine education such as yours, shut away from the world, hidden in that little church as you studied under nuns, quite as though you would become one." Her father shook his head. "I think it very similar, especially after how long you were closed off from all in the wide world; including your own family!"

"Yet, it appears school did not do good enough," the old man grimaced.

"Oh, Grandfather," the girl sighed.

As they spoke, Seras studied the church girl. She was as lovely as she remembered, yet there was something vaguely more... mature about her. While her intelligent blue eyes still shone with truth and purity, there was also a... a sternness and intensity that had not been present before. The first time Seras had seen her, there had been an innocence, and almost worldly naiveté in her gaze that had almost matched her own. Now, while her eyes were still kind and clear, there was also a hardness that comes of being out, seeing the world, and resisting it's many discrepancies and temptations.

The old gentleman said, "Meine dear granddaughter, your father and I wish send you to school so you may be safe from evils of world, learn every good grace, manner, prayer, and strength of spirit to protect against evils of world. To avoid ruffians, and scoundrels, and all other that might use your considerable beauty, to bend your impress. Though you possess a man's brain, you have woman's frailty and heart, and a child's new-look on world."

"Oh Grandfather, you know how I feel about attributing my positive traits to those of men while my weaknesses to those of women."

The old gentleman looked confused. "How can I do such thing when women possess more sweetness, purity, and virtue no man possess?"

"And yet, the way one talks, we are sweet but so frail in everything it's a wonder we stand on our own, while men command good character and all the strength of the human race without even trying."

"Oh, there goes her 'New Woman' nonsense again," the younger gentleman scoffed.

"We sent you to school in part to root out such thought," the older gentleman said. "While you are more noble, clever, brave and indomitable in will than your whole sex - even from young age - sweetness of character, virtues of your sex, and devotion to God are paramount." The girl went to speak, and he interrupted, "Especially to protect you from those evil men that would exploit it."

"Grandfather, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," the young woman said.

"And yet, while in school, you come across a known devil who have taken many wiser girl than you."

"Grandfather, I found him half-drowned on the beach," the girl said, "Should I have left him to die?"

"Of course not, dear maiden. You have the kindest heart and greatest care. To save him from drowning? None could expect any less! It is right proper Christian thing to do, full of good charity and sweetness of spirit. One can only applaud such altruism! And yet, to respond to his letters of devotion, after so many year of being warned against him..."

"Grandfather," she said sternly, "I agreed to let you come chaperone on the condition that you do not discuss this tonight. Are you not a man of your word?"

"Of course I am, dearest heart, but after seeing far more clever woman fall victim to his crime, and see a most beloved in the path of such evil that trod again, can one blame a most devoted grandfather from try to protect his most precious granddaughter?"

"Grandfather," she said very softly, and sternly, "with all due respect, reverence, and obedience, this is not the time..."

They eventually broke off into talking in their own language, which Seras did not understand. They spoke calmly enough, yet the old gentleman spoke earnestly, as though trying to convince the young girl of something, while she seemed steadfast in some decision.

No one seemed to take any more heed of her.

Unsure of what to do, she left.


The end conversation was so hard to write! Why does Abraham van Helsing have to talk in such an inconsistently funny way?! *sobs* I'm very sorry to any fans of the novel. Abraham van Helsing is a VERY difficult character to do right.

As for his presence: in the original 1897 novel, Abraham van Helsing admits he's very fond of Arthur Holmwood because had his own son, who died in infancy, lived to adulthood, he would look just like him. I personally peg Arthur Holmwood as being in his late twenties at least (he just gives off that vibe to me), and van Helsing never specifies when his son was born. Therefore, this is based on the idea: "What if van Helsing's first son had not died in infancy?" (as well as "What if most of the events of Dracula more or less took place, only Dracula isn't a vampire?"). So, the son is old enough to have a teenage daughter of his own, who is Integra Helsing. Yay!

I'll explain more about their family history, past experiences with Dracula, explain what they've done between the novel and "present day" in the fic, etc. next chapter.