I am his butler and he is my master.
I've watched him longer than any other, and I've seen all that there is to see. Even if they are things he tries to hide from me. I've watched that studious look on his face skim through pounds and pounds of information packets on his enemies. The familiar scowl he makes when he sees a bit he dislikes or doesn't care for. And then that brief look of helplessness he gets before tearing his eyes from the page and once again donning a mask for the others to see.
I've seen the glint of hope twinkle like no other, especially when he gets ideas in that head of his. I've seen that devious smile and the amount of detail and care he takes to make sure that everything falls into place, when it can of course.
And I've seen him at the lowest of his low. I've seen days where he locks himself in his room and refuses to talk to anyone other than myself, where he substitutes his tea for hard liquor and even refuses to shave or change into suitable clothes. I've seen the man who is a "hero" to those around him and I've seen the man behind the mask, simply trying to get over the tragedies thrown at him in life.
Because I am his butler, and he is my master.
But even if I am merely his butler, there are times I do indeed worry about him. There are times I see him as more than simply a master. The fact that the two of us have been together for some time and I serve him to the best of my abilities, despite old age slowly creeping up on myself. And at times, he does indeed need the role of a father in his life. I've encountered him locked in the bathroom, weeping over memories of that woman. I didn't know the late Empress Aria as personally as he did. I could never know such a woman, but I hear the stories. She must have been someone truly captivating to have such a grip on his heart, even after all these years.
As time passed however, I noticed his will to begin to walk forward after his encounters with the Empress Cygnus and her Knights. I've noticed him loitering around Ereve and talking to the tactician Neinheart with a grin on his face as the other man looked rather stressed over a list of things to do. To see him finally develop links with the world off the decks of the Lumiere is rather comforting. But still, I worry about him.
I worry when he goes on missions and simply disappears for a few days without contacting the ship of his whereabouts. While I realize that news that the worst had happened would reach us with haste, I still wonder how he manages to squander his time and what he decides to distract himself with. Still, I find myself going about my day and coming upon a thought about the young man, and almost having to tell myself aloud that he is not my son and the only duties I have to him are that of a servant.
Even if I am growing frail with the passage of time, I am his butler, and he is my master.
Spring rolled around once more, and while he had gained his former strength back, I seemed to have lost a bit of my own. Perhaps I wasn't careful enough. To think that I had made such a foolhardy error such as stepping on the neatly polished deck before it had dried. It's just a fracture, but with time it will heal. For now, I'm stuck in bed. And while the maids have taken over my work and my master has thought of replacing me, I still remain on this ship. And he comes around every so often, talking of his plans. With the way Master Phantom smiles, at times I cannot help but wonder how he sees me in his own amethyst eyes. And I wonder if he sees me the way I see him, as a form of family.
As I lay here in bed, listening to him talk sometimes late at night until the point he simply falls asleep at my bedside, I wonder if the young man will be alright when I finally do pass on. Knowing the extent of how he gets emotionally attached to others, I believe it is safe to assume he will not. But for now, I simply sit in bed and I listen. I listen to his gripes on how the new manservant he has hired doesn't serve his tea just the way he likes and how the man is even stricter with his diet, not allowing snacks to be stolen but rather not purchasing such items for either the master or the staff alike.
But sometimes things aren't always complaints. And as I listen to the complaints bleed into stories of love and yearning while he sits there with a dreamy haze in his eyes, a warm smile on his face, and his cheeks tinged with a light blush as he describes a new woman he has recently become further acquainted with, I begin to worry. Yes, I worry about the young man who had the woman he once loved fall victim to a devious plot that has burdened the entire world. And I worry what would happen if anyone had found out about a secret love that's begun to send his heart aflutter and make his expressions soften and warm as he treads down this path once more.
I simply care too much and at times I forget he is not my son. He is simply my master, as I am his butler.
Summer has come and I can once again move about with ease. I'm a bit rusty, but I take on the tasks that I can for now. I've replaced the new manservant in serving the master's food and drinks and unlike this strapping young man who cannot seem to manage his time properly, I even listen to the master's woes and pleads to have me meet this young lady.
And I must say that the women he does indeed pick to garner his attention are quite stunning. While her position is nothing grand, she is a young bishop, petite in stature and pure in nature. Rose colored curls adorn her shoulder as curious jade eyes linger upon the rather ornate halls of the Lumiere. She seems to be nervous, but the woman is sincere. On the other hand, the master is bragging about his ship in a strangely endearing way. But he is practically a child in this sense. He simply cannot contain his excitement.
Because of such excitement. Because of his happiness. Because I worry, I wish to reach out and tell him everything I feel related to him. Everything I have thought about and decided to record on such a topic. However, to speak now, I would be asked to hold my tongue and simply sit in silence, as he worries that I am picking on him.
I am not though. I simply do not wish to see another downward spiral in the event that this girl's life is cast into the underworld like so many others. I do not wish to see her join the late Empress Aria. And I don't wish to see the master feel the need to lock himself in his room and cry. I don't wish to see him reach for alcoholic beverages to attempt to mute his feelings of despair. And I don't wish to see him take something as so disgusting as a cigarette to his lips because it is "trending" and "it relieves the stress from time to time."
Master, those are disgusting habits that do not fit someone of your stature. Not even as a mere man.
Still, he reaches for her. At times he brings her to the ship and they sit on the deck and look at the stars at night. The two of them have definitely grown close, and at times he says he doesn't want to be alone anymore. That even during a time of war that he wants to marry her. And no matter what my words are, they will fall on deaf ears so I sit back and let him believe that such a thing would make him happy.
Marriage is a complicated thing. It's not as easy as putting a ring on the woman's finger, like he believes it will be. He will have to take care of her, even when he has his episodes. He cannot expect things to go right with money alone. And he will have to face the harsh reality that things may not work.
But, as his butler I will wish the best for him. And I hope this young lady can take care of my master. I don't wish to see him continue to spiral downwards into the abyss of despair. I do believe that the rest of the world can agree with me that his smile shines brightly, but it could be a greater source of hope if it was sincere and not simply an act for others to observe.
Because I am his butler, and he is my master.
The sound of rapping on the door of the Elderly man's quarters was enough for him to finally withdraw the pen from the small journal and tuck it away for the night, before welcoming the one who sought him out. And without fail, a blond man stepped forth into the light of the room from the dimly illuminated hallway. The Phantom thief grinned at the elderly man as he took his place beside the butler, putting an elbow on the bed and resting his cheek against his palm.
"I didn't expect you'd still be awake. After all, you've seemed rather tired as of late. Something on your mind?" He spoke, still grinning. But even Phantom couldn't conceal just exactly how tired he was. In fact, at times it seemed that Gaston had more stamina than he did. And once again, it wouldn't be unsurprising if he were to fall asleep at the beds edge and stay that way.
In fact, that was why the blond had been quite tired. His choice in sleeping quarters wasn't exactly the best, and he had spent the last 2 weeks resting at the edge of the bed rather than retiring to his own bedroom. In a way though, it was endearing. To think that his own master would come night after night to simply watch after the man. But he knew it was a sacrifice. During the day he looked worn and his concentration would fade in and out. Sometimes he would be found standing outside of his own personal training deck, leaning against the wall, clinging to the idea of sleep. And although his attempts were rather kind, Gaston would rather not see his master about to topple.
"… Master Phantom, I do insist you go back to your private quarters to rest. I can have tea sent if that would perhaps calm you. And before you intervene with some excuse as to why you should stay here, I would like to remind you that most of my stories do indeed put you to sleep. So go on, don't worry, and for once this week get a good night's sleep rather than hanging off my bed and soaking the area near my feet with a puddle of drool."
"A–Ahhh…" This was startling. To think, he drooled. Him, actually drooling? Gross. Disgusting. And unlike him. Looking at his butler quite shocked, he simply stood up and apologized, wiping the haze out of one of his eyes. "I suppose maybe you're right. I'm not a good listener when it's this late…"
"Don't worry Master, the last thing you want to hear is an old man's musings. You can read them all later in my memoir. And besides, isn't a certain young lady coming over for tea tomorrow? I believe with the way you've been grinning all week that you have something to give her. It wouldn't be good to collapse on such a woman, right?"
To think that he knew of such a thing. What a tricky old man. But the tinge of warmth that accompanied his blush quickly faded as he smiled, dipped into a rather over exaggerated bow and headed back to his quarters with a rather childlike grin on his face. Tomorrow was indeed an important day.
And the elderly man sighed content, alone in his room once again before flicking off the light. Sure, this could be problematic, and things like heart break could just as easily creep up on the young man once more, like they did then. But, at the same time, a whole different set of occurrences could happen, leaving him as cheerful as he once had been, back when the Empress was still around. So he harbored no ill wishes to his master's proceedings, even if he was a love struck fool. He would still constantly tease the man and remind him to count his blessings and to keep walking.
Because that was the job of a butler to someone who was indeed his master.
I feel weird putting a note on the bottom, but it was a tweet prompt from two friends. I feel this is a shaky thing to enter immediately because of OC inclusion and stuff like that. I have all the original description on my wordpress. I dunno why I don't feel comfortable not having my commentary on fics or something related to that it just scares me.