Title: Wedding Day Blues…
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji
Author: kira
Chars/Pairs: Lizzie, Soma
Genres: romance
Warnings: none
Word Count: 666
Summary: Lizzie indulges in fantasy on her wedding day…

Author's note: Mang tikka is a hair ornament worn by Indian brides on their wedding day as part of their wedding attire. It consists of a jeweled medallion hanging from a single jeweled strand. I tied for first at Hentai Contest.

888

Soma knocked softly on the bedroom door. "Forgive me, ladies, but I have something for my little sister…" he trailed off, smiling ingratiatingly at Francis Middleford when she opened the door.

The marchioness was not amused. "Now what is it, your highness?"

"Ummm… Agni!"

Agni bowed and stepped forward. "For Miss Elizabeth." He held out a bundle of pale blue silk topped with a jeweled strand. "Isn't it a part of your wedding customs? Something blue…?"

Lizzie stepped forward. "Yes! Thank you, Mister Agni." She took the bundle. "Oooh… it's beautiful, Prince Soma!" She carefully showed off the blue silk sash and mang tikka.

"If I may, Miss Elizabeth?" Soma took a step forward.

"No, you may not!" Francis said as she tried to shut the door on him.

"Mother!" Lizzie turned around, pulling the prince inside, and shutting the door, quickly opening it. "Sorry, Mister Agni." She pulled him inside too, much to her mother's annoyance. "How do I wear this?"

"Like this, if I may…" Soma said, taking it from her. He wrapped it around her waist, tucking the end in to hold it, amid Lizzie's giggles and his soft chuckling. He then brought the long tail end of it across the bodice of her wedding dress and up onto her head like a veil. Soma stepped back, smiling. "You look beautiful…" he said softly.

"Thank you…" Lizzie felt her cheeks heating up. "And this?"

"It sits on your hair part, with the medallion resting on your forehead. Perhaps your mother can help you… I will go now; I'm sure my little friend Ceil has need of my assistance too." Bringing his hands together at his chest, Soma gave her a slight bow.

"I'm sure he does," the marchioness said dryly as she opened the door. Prince or not, she could not for the life of her understand her nephew's and daughter's friendship with the idiot.

Lizzie watched them go. As much as she loved Ceil, her thoughts had often been drawn to the pair of Indians. When she was younger and in the first blush of womanhood, it had been Agni that had haunted her thoughts, but now that she was a woman, Soma had taken his place.

He had been in her dreams last night, ones that left her flushed, and aching in that special place her mother told her not to touch. Lizzie sighed. She had to now, but that was impossible due the voluminous folds of her wedding dress. Feigning a headache, she shooed everyone out of the room so she could be alone with her thoughts.

Lizzie sat in the bedroom's wingchair, carefully positioning herself so as not to crease the lace and silk; crossing her legs. Closing her eyes, she could see the prince, lying naked in her bed. Holding his hand out to her, she crawled into bed with him, giggling while he covered her with kisses. When he rolled on top of her, she wantonly spread her legs, moaning softly as he thrust inside. Lizzie, feeling a familiar wetness in her knickers, tried desperately to move her bottom without wrinkling her dress, while her fantasy played out in her head. The feelings of shame and disgust that usually accompanied her daydreams about Soma, added to the sinfulness of the moment. Lizzie knew if Soma returned, she would eagerly let him in, just to satisfy her lust, her wedding be damned. With a soft sigh, she came back to reality. She sadly wondered if the prince would haunt her wedding night too.

Down the hall in Ciel's room, Soma was strangely quiet while the last bit of bachelor revelry went on in his friend's honor. Agni, sensing Soma was unhappy about something, wisely chose to let him be alone with his thoughts. The prince turned, unnoticed, and headed towards the window. His back to the others in the room, he carefully adjusted himself in his rather tight churidars, having indulged himself in one last fantasy about Lizzie…