Hellsing fanfiction
My very first Hellsing fanfiction, dedicated to
shini02
She's the author of the bitter-sweet Onward and the creative girl I have to credit for the idea of pairing Jan Valentine and Rip van Winkle. :-)
This story is an AU, because they both deserve a second chance (and also because I can only write AU ^_^).
Betareading by Kevin (if you find any mistake you are allowed to throw him tomatoes...)
Words: 2.412
"And suddenly, a creepy sensation shook her, as she resisted the temptation to brace herself. Rip was sure this time. She knew the Valentine Brothers. But when and where she could have met them?"
Dejà-Vu
She smoothed down the collar of her uniform, casting a last glance at her reflection in the mirror. The image was that of a young woman with regular features and pale skin covered with a smattering of freckles.
Lieutenant Rip van Winkle tightened her eyes, pausing one last moment to tuck two rebellious locks of jet-black hair behind her ears.
She hated those freckles and her hair, and she was starting to detest the uniform she had been so proud to receive the day she graduated from the Academy. Instinctively she lowered her eyes to look at her chest, implacably flattened by the opaque black fabric.
After ten months on base, on the edges of the known world, she was dying to wear something different. Something that could turn her in a girl again.
“When this war ends I will buy a yellow dress and I will go to the ocean. I will spend the day on the beach, watching the waves” she mumbled.
Rip was able to hide the kind and dreaming child she had been only few years before. The one who cried listening to the opera, and whose heart broke the day her father announced she had been admitted to the best military school.
She sighed, picking up the photo she kept of her father. General Erik van Winkle was a famous war hero, and everyone expected his daughter to follow his footsteps. She could not disappoint them. She didn’t want to. After the first shock, and putting melancholy aside her dreams, she became a top student. It had been a duty, a sacrifice and an honour for her.
Her gloved hands caressed the photo.
“To think that I dreamed of becoming a famous singer…”.
Now, sometimes in the loneliness of her room, Rip sang. Imagining the role of proud and brave soldier, who defended the native land from countless hordes of blood-thirsty enemies. Those moments were her happiest.
Her daydream was shattered when the videoscreen sparkled to life, and the face of a young officer assigned to the communication unit appeared.
“Lieutenant van Winkle, your presence is requested in Meeting Room number Four immediately.”
Rip absently nodded.
“Tell the President that I’m on my way.”
She laid down the photo and rushed from the room, slipping inside one of the lifts.
Quickly she arrived at destination. Two guards came to rigid attention as she marched past them into the room. The doors opened silently to reveal her comrades; the stare of the President, Major Montana Max, fixed implacably on her.
Rip nodded firmly, taking her place around the table.
Her hands tightened on her lap, trying to quiet a rush of nervousness.
His presence always made her feel that way, and she was unable to prevent it. How could she? The President was not the kind of man who put the others at ease, though he did not possess any physically menacing quality.
On the contrary he was nearly ridiculous, squeezed into the white uniform of the Commander in Chief, almost too small for his size. And his voice was neither powerful nor authoritative.
Nonetheless he was the point all of them relied on, their beacon, and the man who had guided his people in challenging the entire known universe.
The first time they met she was still a cadet, and he was not President. Although he was only an Army Major, everyone knew what a shining career was in store for him.
She was with her father and, as soon as the Major spotted her, he approached, almost giggling; while she abruptly started to shiver without a reason.
The man, so short he scarcely reached her shoulder, had widened his mouth in an immense smile. Rip hesitantly raised a hand that he ignored, preferring to put his own on her shoulders, greeting her warmly.
“It will be a pleasure to have you in my team, cadet Rip van Winkle.”
The Major had astonished everyone, since he was usually not that friendly, but Rip’s father chuckled ecstatically, sweeping away his daughter’s confusion.
“This will carry to you to the top ranks of the Fleet, my child” he whispered to her.
Rip had nodded, deathly pale, not daring to reveal that she felt like dying, under the Major’s touch,
Nearly ten years and many battles had passed, but even now that she was twenty five years old, his presence still disquieted her. Her apprehension was irrational, she was conscious of it, and it was impossible to explain, but what bugged her was that she could see it on the faces of almost everyone in his inner circle.
It was as eerie sensation, like a monster you think to have seen out of the corner of your eye in a dark alley, that becomes a poor beggar if you look more closely.
The magnetism of the Major made all of them forget their fears, inspiring the deepest devotion.
The only one who seemed perfectly comfortable in his presence was his personal assistant, Warrant Officer Schrodinger. But he was so young and fanatic that probably didn’t bother with girly fears.
It was he who announced, pulling Rip away from the silent observation of her comrades, than the Sixth Fleet had reached the base.
Rip stared at the large monitor from which she enjoyed the impressive view of the star field surrounding the base.
There, in the void, a multitude of war starships were appearing out of the hyperspace: battle cruisers, fighter carriers with their associated battlegroups, destroyers, scouts, dreadnoughts and the twin colossal flagships, with their wedge shape making them impossible to miss. The powerful Sixth Fleet had been recalled from the borders of the quadrant to launch a massive attack at the heart of the enemy lines.
Rip’s eyes skipped through the files of the report in front of her.
The leadership of the fleet was divided, unusually, between two admirals. Siblings. Luke Valentine and his younger brother Jan.
Her eyebrows furrowed reading ‘Valentine’. She vaguely remembered that her father knew someone with the same name, another famous general of his generation.
`Evidently related' she thought. ‘Or they would be too young for such a fast career. They are only few years older than I am.’
She expected nothing less excellence but, while the elder Valentine perfectly fit the cliché, the younger brother seemed to have spent his years in the Academy collecting disciplinary notes.
A smile touched Rip’s lips.
How many times she had got one too? Her room-mates had never appreciated when she used to spend the nights singing in the bathroom.
The soft hiss of the door being opened made her raise her eyes. Rip assumed her most neutral expression, thoughtlessly fixing a stray lock of hair.
Her gaze locked on the two unknown men. Both tall, and impeccably dressed in the black uniforms of the Imperial Star Fleet.
And suddenly, a creepy sensation shook her, as she resisted the temptation to brace herself.
Rip was sure this time. She knew the Valentine Brothers. But when and where she could have met them?
The sat down right in front of the President, without showing any of the nervousness that people usually exhibited in his presence.
She cast a glance at the monitor.
‘I suppose it’s easy, when you have such huge shock force behind you. And, from what I’ve just read, ready to strike as soon as the brothers snap their fingers.’
The Major smiled, placing his elbows on the table.
“Welcome to the Millennium Base. The attack will be launched as scheduled, in twenty four standard hours. They have already begun resupplying your ships. You will have all that you requested, and the Third Fleet has been moved to the side of the quadrant you left uncovered.”
Luke Valentine nodded. “We expected nothing less from a fine strategist like you, President.”
Rip perceived a soft vein of flattery in his words. The admiral had the look of a man accustomed to others carrying out his wishes, but evidently he wasn’t afraid to praise his superiors.
And, as a Fleet Commander, only the Major was higher than him in the military hierarchy.
The two exchanged more small talk, nothing really important. Everything had already been decided, and this was only an informal reunion. A way for a comrade to salute someone who might not come home the next day.
His brother sat quietly at Luke’s side, looking around with an utterly bored air painted on his handsome tanned face.
‘This one is not a politician…’ Rip thought to herself.
Than his eyes fell on her, and his expression changed from uninterested to perplexed.
She looked away, feeling disquietingly scrutinized.
That look rang an alarm bell in her head.
Rip felt the blood draining from her face, as an ugly memory menaced to resurface. It was scary, but she knew it was important for her to know.
It was something floating under the surface of her thoughts, like a faded photo or a distant memory, that she was unable to focus on.
For the rest of the short encounter Rip kept firmly her eyes on the main monitor, refusing to meet again the glacial amber stare of Admiral Jan.
In the end, the stars outside were much more beautiful.
When the two stood up to go, Rip gave them both only the briefest nod; eventually the doors closed behind them, and she felt she could breath normally again, although she could not explain what had shaken her, or the sense of loss she was experiencing now.
‘I must be tired. Very tired.’
Rip glanced the Major. His chin sunk into his cupped hands, he seemed to meditate on something. Then he lifted his head, staring at her.
“Lieutenant Van Winkle.”
“President” her voice answered firmly.
“I would like to invite Admiral Jan Valentine to have dinner with me. Lieutenant, would you deliver my message personally?”
Her hands balled into fists under the table.
“Yes, Sir” she answered.
“Hurry then. But remember, only him. Not the brother.”
The request seemed strange but she tossed her doubts aside, rising to her feet. After all, who was she to argue with the President?
__________________
Rip found the brothers in the corridor that led to the teletransport.
They glanced at her, and an amused look passed between them.
She stiffened.
‘Who just do you think you are?’
“Lieutenant Rip van Winkle, President’s Staff.”
“I know” Luke Valentine replied coldly. “We have seen you before.”
“We had not been properly introduced, however.”
The last thing she wanted was to allow that arrogant ass to forget her rank.
“I have a message for Admiral Jan Valentine.”
Rip stared at Luke’s eyes. “It’s private.”
This time the look of the blond officer did not succeed in hiding the surprise. He turned towards the brother, who shrugged, then back to her.
“Great” he simply replied. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
She watched him disappear, fists clenched tight at her sides.
“So? What was it?”
Jan Valentine leaned against the wall, arms akimbo.
Rip disliked his smile. It was cruel, wicked.
‘I start to understand the reason behind all of those disciplinary notes. You are not one who follows the rules, are you?’
But she kept her comment for herself.
“The President invites you to be his guest for dinner.”
For a second the perpetual smirk wavered, and she thought she saw a shadow of terror in his topaz eyes.
But it lasted the space of a breath.
“Will you also be there?” he asked, leering at her.
Rip could not stop herself from blushing violently.
‘I can’t believe it!’
“Of course not” she answered, perhaps a bit too hastily. But she was not accustomed to direct approaches. On the contrary, she was usually totally unnoticed.
Jan surprised her by bursting in laughter.
“It’s a shame to throw away what may be my last night alive with the Major. He’s not that sexy. But what are you doing after?”
“Nothing that interests you.”
She took a step back uneasily. Even if slightly flattered.
Despite the rudeness of the approach at least it was one. The last time she had dated someone she was still attending the Academy.
And the admiral could also have an unusual aspect but he was for sure worthy of a second glance. His irreverent manners attracted Rip, who had always been even too serious. She tightened her lips, shaking up.
‘What am I doing? He’s also a superior. Better if I go.’
She bowed her head slightly.
“Excuse my words, Sir. I’ve been disrespectful. I wish you a very good night, Admiral.”
Without waiting for an answer she turned on her heels, ready to leave.
“Wait.”
She stopped, amazed by the request while his tone sent a long shiver down her back.
Rip faced him, her cheeks a deep crimson colour.
“I believe you are not in the position to make such a demand to me. Nor I to accept it. There are strict rules…”
Jan laughed, apparently her words were funny for him. He raised both his hands, casting an amused look at her.
“… and according to them you cannot have an intimate relation with your co-workers” he ended for her. “I know it. And, frankly, it sucks. Not that I have ever paid that much attention to it.”
He stared at Rip, offering her the most innocent smile he could muster. “Hey, Lieutenant, don't be on the defensive or take it all too seriously. I’d just like to know something more about you… because I’m sure I’ve seen you around, I just can’t remember where. Or when.”
For a moment Jan seemed at a loss of words.
Rip’s heartbeat accelerated.
‘You seem nothing else than a son of a bitch, admiral. But at least you sound sincere, and I won’t die if I give you a chance.’
“I will think about your proposal.” she granted him. Before executing, this time, a perfect military salute. She tuned quickly, striding away, hoping that he did not run after her or that he did something strange. The Admiral seemed the kind of man from whom to expect everything.
Instead, only his voice reached her. “You’ll find me later in the prow bar, I’ll be waiting for you Lieutenant Van Winkle.”
Rip felt her lips, involuntarily, stretch in a wide smile.
And, even conscious that it was stupid and infantile, Rip asked herself if the Admiral Jan liked the sea. And yellow dresses.
shini02
She's the author of the bitter-sweet Onward and the creative girl I have to credit for the idea of pairing Jan Valentine and Rip van Winkle. :-)
This story is an AU, because they both deserve a second chance (and also because I can only write AU ^_^).
Betareading by Kevin (if you find any mistake you are allowed to throw him tomatoes...)
Words: 2.412
"And suddenly, a creepy sensation shook her, as she resisted the temptation to brace herself. Rip was sure this time. She knew the Valentine Brothers. But when and where she could have met them?"
Dejà-Vu
She smoothed down the collar of her uniform, casting a last glance at her reflection in the mirror. The image was that of a young woman with regular features and pale skin covered with a smattering of freckles.
Lieutenant Rip van Winkle tightened her eyes, pausing one last moment to tuck two rebellious locks of jet-black hair behind her ears.
She hated those freckles and her hair, and she was starting to detest the uniform she had been so proud to receive the day she graduated from the Academy. Instinctively she lowered her eyes to look at her chest, implacably flattened by the opaque black fabric.
After ten months on base, on the edges of the known world, she was dying to wear something different. Something that could turn her in a girl again.
“When this war ends I will buy a yellow dress and I will go to the ocean. I will spend the day on the beach, watching the waves” she mumbled.
Rip was able to hide the kind and dreaming child she had been only few years before. The one who cried listening to the opera, and whose heart broke the day her father announced she had been admitted to the best military school.
She sighed, picking up the photo she kept of her father. General Erik van Winkle was a famous war hero, and everyone expected his daughter to follow his footsteps. She could not disappoint them. She didn’t want to. After the first shock, and putting melancholy aside her dreams, she became a top student. It had been a duty, a sacrifice and an honour for her.
Her gloved hands caressed the photo.
“To think that I dreamed of becoming a famous singer…”.
Now, sometimes in the loneliness of her room, Rip sang. Imagining the role of proud and brave soldier, who defended the native land from countless hordes of blood-thirsty enemies. Those moments were her happiest.
Her daydream was shattered when the videoscreen sparkled to life, and the face of a young officer assigned to the communication unit appeared.
“Lieutenant van Winkle, your presence is requested in Meeting Room number Four immediately.”
Rip absently nodded.
“Tell the President that I’m on my way.”
She laid down the photo and rushed from the room, slipping inside one of the lifts.
Quickly she arrived at destination. Two guards came to rigid attention as she marched past them into the room. The doors opened silently to reveal her comrades; the stare of the President, Major Montana Max, fixed implacably on her.
Rip nodded firmly, taking her place around the table.
Her hands tightened on her lap, trying to quiet a rush of nervousness.
His presence always made her feel that way, and she was unable to prevent it. How could she? The President was not the kind of man who put the others at ease, though he did not possess any physically menacing quality.
On the contrary he was nearly ridiculous, squeezed into the white uniform of the Commander in Chief, almost too small for his size. And his voice was neither powerful nor authoritative.
Nonetheless he was the point all of them relied on, their beacon, and the man who had guided his people in challenging the entire known universe.
The first time they met she was still a cadet, and he was not President. Although he was only an Army Major, everyone knew what a shining career was in store for him.
She was with her father and, as soon as the Major spotted her, he approached, almost giggling; while she abruptly started to shiver without a reason.
The man, so short he scarcely reached her shoulder, had widened his mouth in an immense smile. Rip hesitantly raised a hand that he ignored, preferring to put his own on her shoulders, greeting her warmly.
“It will be a pleasure to have you in my team, cadet Rip van Winkle.”
The Major had astonished everyone, since he was usually not that friendly, but Rip’s father chuckled ecstatically, sweeping away his daughter’s confusion.
“This will carry to you to the top ranks of the Fleet, my child” he whispered to her.
Rip had nodded, deathly pale, not daring to reveal that she felt like dying, under the Major’s touch,
Nearly ten years and many battles had passed, but even now that she was twenty five years old, his presence still disquieted her. Her apprehension was irrational, she was conscious of it, and it was impossible to explain, but what bugged her was that she could see it on the faces of almost everyone in his inner circle.
It was as eerie sensation, like a monster you think to have seen out of the corner of your eye in a dark alley, that becomes a poor beggar if you look more closely.
The magnetism of the Major made all of them forget their fears, inspiring the deepest devotion.
The only one who seemed perfectly comfortable in his presence was his personal assistant, Warrant Officer Schrodinger. But he was so young and fanatic that probably didn’t bother with girly fears.
It was he who announced, pulling Rip away from the silent observation of her comrades, than the Sixth Fleet had reached the base.
Rip stared at the large monitor from which she enjoyed the impressive view of the star field surrounding the base.
There, in the void, a multitude of war starships were appearing out of the hyperspace: battle cruisers, fighter carriers with their associated battlegroups, destroyers, scouts, dreadnoughts and the twin colossal flagships, with their wedge shape making them impossible to miss. The powerful Sixth Fleet had been recalled from the borders of the quadrant to launch a massive attack at the heart of the enemy lines.
Rip’s eyes skipped through the files of the report in front of her.
The leadership of the fleet was divided, unusually, between two admirals. Siblings. Luke Valentine and his younger brother Jan.
Her eyebrows furrowed reading ‘Valentine’. She vaguely remembered that her father knew someone with the same name, another famous general of his generation.
`Evidently related' she thought. ‘Or they would be too young for such a fast career. They are only few years older than I am.’
She expected nothing less excellence but, while the elder Valentine perfectly fit the cliché, the younger brother seemed to have spent his years in the Academy collecting disciplinary notes.
A smile touched Rip’s lips.
How many times she had got one too? Her room-mates had never appreciated when she used to spend the nights singing in the bathroom.
The soft hiss of the door being opened made her raise her eyes. Rip assumed her most neutral expression, thoughtlessly fixing a stray lock of hair.
Her gaze locked on the two unknown men. Both tall, and impeccably dressed in the black uniforms of the Imperial Star Fleet.
And suddenly, a creepy sensation shook her, as she resisted the temptation to brace herself.
Rip was sure this time. She knew the Valentine Brothers. But when and where she could have met them?
The sat down right in front of the President, without showing any of the nervousness that people usually exhibited in his presence.
She cast a glance at the monitor.
‘I suppose it’s easy, when you have such huge shock force behind you. And, from what I’ve just read, ready to strike as soon as the brothers snap their fingers.’
The Major smiled, placing his elbows on the table.
“Welcome to the Millennium Base. The attack will be launched as scheduled, in twenty four standard hours. They have already begun resupplying your ships. You will have all that you requested, and the Third Fleet has been moved to the side of the quadrant you left uncovered.”
Luke Valentine nodded. “We expected nothing less from a fine strategist like you, President.”
Rip perceived a soft vein of flattery in his words. The admiral had the look of a man accustomed to others carrying out his wishes, but evidently he wasn’t afraid to praise his superiors.
And, as a Fleet Commander, only the Major was higher than him in the military hierarchy.
The two exchanged more small talk, nothing really important. Everything had already been decided, and this was only an informal reunion. A way for a comrade to salute someone who might not come home the next day.
His brother sat quietly at Luke’s side, looking around with an utterly bored air painted on his handsome tanned face.
‘This one is not a politician…’ Rip thought to herself.
Than his eyes fell on her, and his expression changed from uninterested to perplexed.
She looked away, feeling disquietingly scrutinized.
That look rang an alarm bell in her head.
Rip felt the blood draining from her face, as an ugly memory menaced to resurface. It was scary, but she knew it was important for her to know.
It was something floating under the surface of her thoughts, like a faded photo or a distant memory, that she was unable to focus on.
For the rest of the short encounter Rip kept firmly her eyes on the main monitor, refusing to meet again the glacial amber stare of Admiral Jan.
In the end, the stars outside were much more beautiful.
When the two stood up to go, Rip gave them both only the briefest nod; eventually the doors closed behind them, and she felt she could breath normally again, although she could not explain what had shaken her, or the sense of loss she was experiencing now.
‘I must be tired. Very tired.’
Rip glanced the Major. His chin sunk into his cupped hands, he seemed to meditate on something. Then he lifted his head, staring at her.
“Lieutenant Van Winkle.”
“President” her voice answered firmly.
“I would like to invite Admiral Jan Valentine to have dinner with me. Lieutenant, would you deliver my message personally?”
Her hands balled into fists under the table.
“Yes, Sir” she answered.
“Hurry then. But remember, only him. Not the brother.”
The request seemed strange but she tossed her doubts aside, rising to her feet. After all, who was she to argue with the President?
__________________
Rip found the brothers in the corridor that led to the teletransport.
They glanced at her, and an amused look passed between them.
She stiffened.
‘Who just do you think you are?’
“Lieutenant Rip van Winkle, President’s Staff.”
“I know” Luke Valentine replied coldly. “We have seen you before.”
“We had not been properly introduced, however.”
The last thing she wanted was to allow that arrogant ass to forget her rank.
“I have a message for Admiral Jan Valentine.”
Rip stared at Luke’s eyes. “It’s private.”
This time the look of the blond officer did not succeed in hiding the surprise. He turned towards the brother, who shrugged, then back to her.
“Great” he simply replied. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
She watched him disappear, fists clenched tight at her sides.
“So? What was it?”
Jan Valentine leaned against the wall, arms akimbo.
Rip disliked his smile. It was cruel, wicked.
‘I start to understand the reason behind all of those disciplinary notes. You are not one who follows the rules, are you?’
But she kept her comment for herself.
“The President invites you to be his guest for dinner.”
For a second the perpetual smirk wavered, and she thought she saw a shadow of terror in his topaz eyes.
But it lasted the space of a breath.
“Will you also be there?” he asked, leering at her.
Rip could not stop herself from blushing violently.
‘I can’t believe it!’
“Of course not” she answered, perhaps a bit too hastily. But she was not accustomed to direct approaches. On the contrary, she was usually totally unnoticed.
Jan surprised her by bursting in laughter.
“It’s a shame to throw away what may be my last night alive with the Major. He’s not that sexy. But what are you doing after?”
“Nothing that interests you.”
She took a step back uneasily. Even if slightly flattered.
Despite the rudeness of the approach at least it was one. The last time she had dated someone she was still attending the Academy.
And the admiral could also have an unusual aspect but he was for sure worthy of a second glance. His irreverent manners attracted Rip, who had always been even too serious. She tightened her lips, shaking up.
‘What am I doing? He’s also a superior. Better if I go.’
She bowed her head slightly.
“Excuse my words, Sir. I’ve been disrespectful. I wish you a very good night, Admiral.”
Without waiting for an answer she turned on her heels, ready to leave.
“Wait.”
She stopped, amazed by the request while his tone sent a long shiver down her back.
Rip faced him, her cheeks a deep crimson colour.
“I believe you are not in the position to make such a demand to me. Nor I to accept it. There are strict rules…”
Jan laughed, apparently her words were funny for him. He raised both his hands, casting an amused look at her.
“… and according to them you cannot have an intimate relation with your co-workers” he ended for her. “I know it. And, frankly, it sucks. Not that I have ever paid that much attention to it.”
He stared at Rip, offering her the most innocent smile he could muster. “Hey, Lieutenant, don't be on the defensive or take it all too seriously. I’d just like to know something more about you… because I’m sure I’ve seen you around, I just can’t remember where. Or when.”
For a moment Jan seemed at a loss of words.
Rip’s heartbeat accelerated.
‘You seem nothing else than a son of a bitch, admiral. But at least you sound sincere, and I won’t die if I give you a chance.’
“I will think about your proposal.” she granted him. Before executing, this time, a perfect military salute. She tuned quickly, striding away, hoping that he did not run after her or that he did something strange. The Admiral seemed the kind of man from whom to expect everything.
Instead, only his voice reached her. “You’ll find me later in the prow bar, I’ll be waiting for you Lieutenant Van Winkle.”
Rip felt her lips, involuntarily, stretch in a wide smile.
And, even conscious that it was stupid and infantile, Rip asked herself if the Admiral Jan liked the sea. And yellow dresses.