[FIC] Hellsing, older woman/younger woman, for rosehiptea
Admittedly, I decided to have some fun interpreting the prompt - so it might not be exactly what rosehiptea was thinking of when she wrote up the request. I also must thank the various images at Solid & Etc. for inspiration.
Title: Snow-White and Rose-Red
Fandom: Hellsing
Original request: Here.
Rating: PG-13/R (this is a Hellsing fic, after all)
Word Count: 1070
White was the colour of snow.
She had heard from Walter once, when she was young, stories of a little girl who would be seen in the tall birch trees of Poland. Snow-white skin, white dress, white fur cap - among the trees she could have been mistaken for a ghost, a spirit from the days of fairy tales and princesses. The days when kindly woodcutters saved children from evil stepmothers, and the days when Good, in the end, triumphed over Evil.
"Did she help the people?" The very young Integra asked, eyes wide at the story.
There was a pause.
"I suppose so," Walter admitted.
"I want to meet her!"
Walter betrayed no change in his expression, keeping a kindly smile. The only indication of anything was a pause. "And why would you want to meet such a girl, Integra?"
"She sounds like she belongs here," was the only explanation Integra could give, at the time.
Walter tucked his ward into bed in silence.
=
Red was the colour of roses.
Walter seemed not to mind, and the soldiers of Hellsing liked the traditional reminder of England.
So roses grew in the garden.
However, stories soon cropped up that a girl appeared in the garden, a girl with raven-black hair streaming down her back. Integra had never seen such a girl, but the soldiers were convinced it was an image of Innocence. Some of them, the classically trained, were convinced it was some belle dame sans merci that heralded death.
And so the two, Innocence and Death, frolicked among the roses.
When most of her soldiers had become ghouls, when most of her soldiers had to be put out of their undead existence by herself personally, Integra thought that out of the corner of her veil she saw such a girl, her hair raven-black, looking up at her as if in admiration.
But it was only for a moment, and the black veil obscured much.
So Integra turned to carry out her responsibility to her men - placing the roses of England on their graves.
It was not the time to go rushing off, chasing after some girl.
=
White was the colour of purity.
Integra began to see the girl more and more - though it was always in the corner of her eye, or in the reflection of a mirror just as she would turn away from it.
Until one day she began to question. After all, she had many other things to tend to. She was Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing and she would not stand being played with, nor could she afford to go stark mad when her estate, her country, seemed to be crumbling all around her.
So she drew herself up, back straight, as if she was wearing her commander uniform and sword and not just her nightgown.
"Be you ghoul or ghost, at least have the courtesy to present yourself to my face."
A moment passed. No answer.
But when she turned round again there was the girl, sitting on Integra's own bed, clad in blouse and jacket and gown, all white. Her raven-black hair streamed over the whiteness, and her lips were red as roses.
She seemed very old.
"I am neither, my dear."
Integra blinked. This girl talked as if she were an old woman, too.
"Explain yourself at once."
The girl smiled and took off her jacket, slowly. "I've been watching you ever since you said you wanted to see me. I wanted... to know, what sort of person would want such a thing."
"I said -" and then Integra remembered it, the childhood story, being tucked into bed.
The girl nodded. "The Virgin Lady of Hellsing, nearly emulating the strength and wit of the grand Queen Elizabeth, the Virgin Queen... I must say I'm quite impressed. I have seen... much. Though lately it seems I only come round when there is great death."
Integra thought for a moment. This seemed like Alucard playing a prank but at the same time, this girl felt different than the usual bloodlust that hung around Alucard. There was none of that animal instinct, none of that howling at the moon and having the audacity to tell her his loins were stirring. This girl was vaguely androgynous, yes - her figure more straight than curved - but she was not much younger than Integra looked, and her eyes seemed similar to her own. They had seen betrayals, they had seen many deaths, they had seen anger and fear and jealousy and cowardice.
"Though, mind you, I wasn't around when Queen Elizabeth was. Though I must admit Queen Victoria was quite a strong lady, especially taking the throne at such a young age. Loyal to herself and to her country. Quite like yourself." The girl stated matter-of-factly, folding up the jacket and setting it aside.
Integra blinked. Old, yet young... and there was another feeling.
White... purity... calmness. Gentleness. Like when she was a child and being tucked into bed and she knew that, in the end, Good triumphed over Evil and everything would be all right.
"If you only appear when there is great death, then why are you here?"
The girl smiled gently and indicated the bed.
"I am here to rest. Will you let me, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing?"
Integra stood, studying the girl.
The girl looked up at her, still in Integra's own bed.
Integra sighed. "Do no harm."
"...thank you."
=
The last time Integra saw the girl was on a battlefield.
And yet -
She remembered that night, the soft touches, the childish sense of wanting to be comforted.
She would fight the Major, of course. The girl sought rest, wanted respite, wanted comfort and wanted to not bring pain - there was pain, when the butler was killed, but for a moment there were tears in the girl's eyes and the sense that, in the end, even Walter was given the rest he so deserved.
Wanting comfort, wanting rest...
How dare the Major take that away! How dare he take away even the desire for rest, the wish that everything would be okay!
How dare he trespass on such sacred things?!
So Integra would fight the Major, of course. And she knew everything would turn out alright, eventually -
- for Good triumphed over Evil, after all, and she would see to it that this bloody fairy tale would end properly.
Title: Snow-White and Rose-Red
Fandom: Hellsing
Original request: Here.
Rating: PG-13/R (this is a Hellsing fic, after all)
Word Count: 1070
White was the colour of snow.
She had heard from Walter once, when she was young, stories of a little girl who would be seen in the tall birch trees of Poland. Snow-white skin, white dress, white fur cap - among the trees she could have been mistaken for a ghost, a spirit from the days of fairy tales and princesses. The days when kindly woodcutters saved children from evil stepmothers, and the days when Good, in the end, triumphed over Evil.
"Did she help the people?" The very young Integra asked, eyes wide at the story.
There was a pause.
"I suppose so," Walter admitted.
"I want to meet her!"
Walter betrayed no change in his expression, keeping a kindly smile. The only indication of anything was a pause. "And why would you want to meet such a girl, Integra?"
"She sounds like she belongs here," was the only explanation Integra could give, at the time.
Walter tucked his ward into bed in silence.
=
Red was the colour of roses.
Walter seemed not to mind, and the soldiers of Hellsing liked the traditional reminder of England.
So roses grew in the garden.
However, stories soon cropped up that a girl appeared in the garden, a girl with raven-black hair streaming down her back. Integra had never seen such a girl, but the soldiers were convinced it was an image of Innocence. Some of them, the classically trained, were convinced it was some belle dame sans merci that heralded death.
And so the two, Innocence and Death, frolicked among the roses.
When most of her soldiers had become ghouls, when most of her soldiers had to be put out of their undead existence by herself personally, Integra thought that out of the corner of her veil she saw such a girl, her hair raven-black, looking up at her as if in admiration.
But it was only for a moment, and the black veil obscured much.
So Integra turned to carry out her responsibility to her men - placing the roses of England on their graves.
It was not the time to go rushing off, chasing after some girl.
=
White was the colour of purity.
Integra began to see the girl more and more - though it was always in the corner of her eye, or in the reflection of a mirror just as she would turn away from it.
Until one day she began to question. After all, she had many other things to tend to. She was Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing and she would not stand being played with, nor could she afford to go stark mad when her estate, her country, seemed to be crumbling all around her.
So she drew herself up, back straight, as if she was wearing her commander uniform and sword and not just her nightgown.
"Be you ghoul or ghost, at least have the courtesy to present yourself to my face."
A moment passed. No answer.
But when she turned round again there was the girl, sitting on Integra's own bed, clad in blouse and jacket and gown, all white. Her raven-black hair streamed over the whiteness, and her lips were red as roses.
She seemed very old.
"I am neither, my dear."
Integra blinked. This girl talked as if she were an old woman, too.
"Explain yourself at once."
The girl smiled and took off her jacket, slowly. "I've been watching you ever since you said you wanted to see me. I wanted... to know, what sort of person would want such a thing."
"I said -" and then Integra remembered it, the childhood story, being tucked into bed.
The girl nodded. "The Virgin Lady of Hellsing, nearly emulating the strength and wit of the grand Queen Elizabeth, the Virgin Queen... I must say I'm quite impressed. I have seen... much. Though lately it seems I only come round when there is great death."
Integra thought for a moment. This seemed like Alucard playing a prank but at the same time, this girl felt different than the usual bloodlust that hung around Alucard. There was none of that animal instinct, none of that howling at the moon and having the audacity to tell her his loins were stirring. This girl was vaguely androgynous, yes - her figure more straight than curved - but she was not much younger than Integra looked, and her eyes seemed similar to her own. They had seen betrayals, they had seen many deaths, they had seen anger and fear and jealousy and cowardice.
"Though, mind you, I wasn't around when Queen Elizabeth was. Though I must admit Queen Victoria was quite a strong lady, especially taking the throne at such a young age. Loyal to herself and to her country. Quite like yourself." The girl stated matter-of-factly, folding up the jacket and setting it aside.
Integra blinked. Old, yet young... and there was another feeling.
White... purity... calmness. Gentleness. Like when she was a child and being tucked into bed and she knew that, in the end, Good triumphed over Evil and everything would be all right.
"If you only appear when there is great death, then why are you here?"
The girl smiled gently and indicated the bed.
"I am here to rest. Will you let me, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing?"
Integra stood, studying the girl.
The girl looked up at her, still in Integra's own bed.
Integra sighed. "Do no harm."
"...thank you."
=
The last time Integra saw the girl was on a battlefield.
And yet -
She remembered that night, the soft touches, the childish sense of wanting to be comforted.
She would fight the Major, of course. The girl sought rest, wanted respite, wanted comfort and wanted to not bring pain - there was pain, when the butler was killed, but for a moment there were tears in the girl's eyes and the sense that, in the end, even Walter was given the rest he so deserved.
Wanting comfort, wanting rest...
How dare the Major take that away! How dare he take away even the desire for rest, the wish that everything would be okay!
How dare he trespass on such sacred things?!
So Integra would fight the Major, of course. And she knew everything would turn out alright, eventually -
- for Good triumphed over Evil, after all, and she would see to it that this bloody fairy tale would end properly.