Sands of Time (Hellsing•AU)

Special Attention (32)

•Threat of Violence & Death

When Ylva finished washing up, she ran down a less dirty servant dress and corset. It had flour on it, so she could manage to brush it off but the skirt was way too short. It just went to her knees. Sometimes being 6 feet tall was not so good, in other situations.

When Vlad opened the door, Ylva was cleaning a shield. It was battle worn but a good wall decoration of some great wins. She stood up and held the shield in front of her. The blondehad just realized again, how short the dress was and she detested undergarments. It didn't let a woman's lower parts stay healthy. Infections and discharge frequently occured. She was surprised Vlad was into hygiene so much.  It was quite obvious the blacksmith wasn't.

"Evening my lord, what do you wish me to do for you?" as she bowed her head.

He at least wasn't a total ass, as he let her only bow her head and not her head, with her whole body. It was awkward and left you vulnerable to a surprise blow. Ylva just stared past his shoulder and waited for a command.

"It took me time to check, that you had done all of your chores correctly and to my liking. I would have liked the tack cleaned, but the former blacksmith took too much of your time, so I forgive you," Vlad raised his right hand and rubbed his wrist.

There was blood on both hands, he had been doing something violent?  A whipping? Breaking bones?   Ylva shuddered lightly, just happy it hadn't been her. The evening was still early though.

"I will be having hot water delivered again tonight. Care to join me?" he said in a low voice, with a large smirk on his lips.

"My lord I have already bathed, just finding it hard to find dresses in my size, if you don't mind me saying so..."

Vlad's cheeks flushed a little with a twinge of jealousy, "And where was that?"

"A locked room, with cold water Sir..."she bowed her head once more.

"Well there will be none of that! I will not have certain unfavorable men watching you clean yourself. It might give them sinful ideas and wish to act upon them!"  His voice raised with his anger.

It was with that, a knock came and the door.

"Enter," said the Impaler King.

Ylva picked the wine decanter up then strolled over to fill his wine goblet. He could be a humble Prince at times, he used a goblet of no great ornamentation, as some others would. Before she got to him, he supplied another goblet similar but not matching to his

"Perhaps some wine to help ease your sore muscles?"

"Yes please my lord," with a dip of her head again.

She poured his wine then he took the decanter and filled hers. That was a little off, a sign of respect or equal station?  The Prince probably just wanted to throw her off and she would forget, to hold her tongue. Ylva smelled the spiced wine and forgot her manners. With large, swift gulps she downed the wine quickly. As she brought the wine goblet down, she felt his eyes on her.

'Oh shit!' she thought.

An old habit from drinking mead from a drinking horn. She missed her good drinking horn, it had been stolen.

"My!  Drink like that anymore and you will be passed out in my tub," he had a mischievous smile that matched his eyes.

'Great, he was having sexual thoughts about her getting drunk.'

He was in for a surprise, wine was like tea to her. He took a sip of wine now and then set the goblet down on a table. " You will do the exact procedure for bathing, as last night."

Swell! Thought Ylva, and blinked her eyes so as not to roll them. Rolling her eyes hard, got her into all kinds, of painful trouble. She stepped up to him and started to remove the leather armour. The Norse woman laid it on the floor, away from the tub. The armour was clean enough, but should get cleaned again soon. Next was the arming sword. She laid it down, in the scabbard still.

"Pick it up, wench and unsheath it," he stated matter of factly.

Normally you never touched a sword then she had broken, that rule at the inn. He had given her permission this time. She turned and yanked the sword, out of the sheath, in an aggressive manner. She held it up into a source of light and restudied it. It was a very nice sword, well crafted by a master weapons maker.

She was about to put it back in the sheath, when the Prince replied, "Show me your fighting stances."

"My lord I am wearing the bread maker's clothes, she will cook me like bread, if I rip the seams out of her clothes..."

"Then strip them off..."

Ylva had walked right into that. With a large sigh, she did. There she was, naked and standing, before The Prince of Wallachia with his arming sword. She straightened and started to show a couple of her fighting patterns. Ylva finished with a thrust, directed at the Prince then lowered it and positioned it, with the pommel up.

He stroked his thin mustache and flatly stated, "A couple of the shifts in blade positions are no longer used. Let me show you the improvements."

She waited until he grabbed the sword but instead, he put his left hand over hers and came around to stand behind her. His other arm came around, so Vlad's hands were positioned, to have her do a moving practice and he would guide her body. He leaned into her back and started the stance, then the move through.  Vlad tried to get her to follow his movements. She was resisting his help. Finally he squeezed hard with his arms around her upper arms.

Why was she fighting him on this?  That's when an elbow came down swift to his ribs.

"Ow that fucking hurts! I can't do the position because I have big tits and you have none!" as she yelled while stomping off.

She grabbed the wine decanter and filled her goblet again.  "And before you ask, armour can be painful too! The Amazons had it right, cut them off and then brand the area!"

The Prince started to laugh deeply, he had not ever thought of that. "If you turn out to be good, I will have armour made for you!"

"If I turn out to be good? Good? Take your damn sword! Where is mine?" She growled boldly at the dark Prince.

Vlad pulled a cloth from a table, her sword was sitting on it. Ylva stalked over aggressivy, grabbed the sword and charged him. He was caught off by her bold, quick paced charge. She was all on the attack, trying to force him into a small area of the room. Vlad started pressing back at her. He slipped under her blade range. The Norse woman would have to back up, to swing at him again. He grinned, he thought he had her on the defense now.

That was not Ylva's style.

She closed the distance instead, and pulled her head back to head butt him. It caught him off guard and he quickly shifted his head to only get a glancing blow. He then felt his sword arm in a lock with Ylva's left bicep and her right arm reached over, as it was trying to disarm the sword. Another head butt, from the side of her head and then Vlad felt himself, rolling over her right shoulder. He hit the floor hard but rolled up quickly. He saw a female hand pick his sword up.  She stepped sideways and then rotated the swords as paired weapons. Ylva took a stance and did a move thorough. Her arms rose and crossed the blades. She looked at them and then threw them on the ground. Ylva stepped back then grabbed the wine goblet. She leaned back, as she stood and crossed her arms, finishing her wine.

The Prince's blood boiled! How fucking dare she do that to him! He stormed now, grabbed his sword off the floor and placed it to her throat just under her chin. She didn't even flinch.

"Warrior Prince, your water is getting cold," and she just waited for her punishment.  "You can slit my throat and spill my blood but I will not beg for life. I am ever Úlfhéðnar and will  die as a Úlfhéðnar."

Vlad raised his sword in a salute and said, "I will bathe you tonight..."

Great warriors, like great earthquakes, are principally remembered for the mischief they have done.    

~Christian Nestell Bovee