Alanna


"My Lady, it's time to wake."

Sebastian's voice wove its way through my dreams. The ropes of the nightmare parted beneath it, much like the gossamer strands of a web. Strands that seemed so flimsy in the light, but could trap you until the dream had it's way. Until it milked you for as much terror and heartache as it could.

I waited for a moment, knowing he wouldn't speak again until I sat up. It was almost like a game we played, had we played such silly games. There was silence as my pulse slowed and breathing became more relaxed, until the blades quit piercing my flesh. One last shiver and it was done.

I could greet the day.

I parted my eyes and of course, he stood there, blocking the rays of light that shown through the Venetian lace of the curtains. Nary a beam touched me till my eyes grew accustomed to the gold.

Such a fine butler. The best in the land. I should know. I payed the exorbitant price for him. Hmm, perhaps I spoke to soon, as the cost was still to be paid. But I would. Gladly.

Sitting up, I kept my sheet pulled up to my chest as he wrapped my dressing gown around me. Typically, this would be frowned upon in polite society. In the 'fine' society that I had been raised in. But that 'fine' society had dissolved around me, much like my dreams beneath his voice.

I no longer gave a damn what one would think of me. Dying had a way of doing that a person, polite or not.

"Earl Grey, and with it, this morning's news." His eyes glanced into mine before lowering.

He verged on impudence. Had I been a noblewoman, perhaps I would have slapped him, railed at him, for daring look at me. And while, by all outward appearances, I was still that woman, I wasn't. Eyes didn't hurt. Eyes didn't strip you of dignity. Eye's didn't steal from you the thing you cherished most. At least, not if you chose not to care.

And I didn't. Not anymore.

"Thank you, Sebastian." I said, easing my legs over the side of the bed.

With a bow, he held out his arm and closed his eyes.

Unable to help myself, I took the offered arm and stood, arranging my bedclothes. The touch wasn't what one might think. He was my weapon. And much like one who adores the sublime edge on a finely honed blade, I couldn't resist the feel of him. My hand on his arm was a thumb across the glinting edge of sharpened steel.

I longed for the day when I could use him. Thrust him into the ones who hurt me. Watch as he claimed their lives, much like when they watched the end of mine.


Sebastian


Was every master to call upon me to be in the throes of revenge?

Ahh, but who was I to question? As long as the price was paid, the reasons should be of no consequence. But there was that one master… My last one. Revenge-ridden. Pitiable. Pure.

I had been too patient with him, too caring. And in the end, for naught. Now, here I was, starving. And for some hellish reason, agreeing to this noble cause.

But it only took one look into my Lady's face to remember why I agreed. Why I put myself back into this demeaning position. Determination and resolve shone like diamonds from the sable of her eyes. There was not one doubt in my mind that I would feast again.

Alois was not here, himself consumed. Claude was dead, by my own hand. Hannah buried with him. There was only Alanna Livingston and I. The two of us. In this grotesque monstrosity of a home. Two beings.

I had to admit, I sometimes missed Baldroy, Mey-Rin and Finnian. Even the somewhat incomprehensible Tanaka. Sometimes. They had helped to alleviate the endless monotony of the days. Their 'help' more helpful than I cared to give voice to.

At the very least, with them, I had things to do, clean up after their exuberant efforts, assign them chores that I knew I would later have to do myself.

Being what I was, simply one hell of a butler, I found myself lacking something, and what I discovered, with much dismay, that something was simple contact.

I left my young mistress, sitting silent with her tea and the paper. There was still meals to be planned and visits to be arranged, though those were very few and far between

As usual, I found myself drumming my fingers on the butchers table in the kitchen when a sound, seldom heard here, echoed though the cavernous space.

A bell.

A summons.

What in the bloody hell?


Alanna


I knew that face.

My breath stopped. My heart burned.

The scar that traveled down his cheek. Reaching blindly, I found the cord to call for my steel, my saving grace.

The burn in my heart turned into a torrent of flames.

I found one of them.

Lost.

I was lost.

Pain. Shadows. Shining steel. Red. So much red. Agony. Death. Screams. Mine.

Amber now, filling my vision. Erasing the licking yellow and streaming red.

"Hush, my Lady. I am here."

Words. So familiar. He said the same thing. 'Hush, my lady,' Leering face as the steel shown red in his fist. 'It's almost over.'

Warm hands on my flesh.

"Mistress, I am here. Tell me what to do."

There was my blade. Calling to me.

Black hair fell over whiskey-colored eyes. No scar. Sebastian. He wouldn't hurt me. At least not yet. Contract.

"Him." I managed to get out. I couldn't be the fine lady, couldn't even pretend to try. With a hand, I pushed the paper at my faithful butler.

"The scarred one, my lady?"

I nodded, the movement jerky, like a puppet with a string or two broken. That was all I could manage while keeping memories at bay.

Looking up, I met his calm gaze.

"You are coping well." His voice made it more of a statement than a question.

"Of course." I had fallen apart before his arrival. Couldn't show that I was still ripped at the seams. "You are late."

"My apologies, Mistress. I am unaccustomed to the sound of the bells here. It will not happen again."


Sebastian


Very few masters have had such conviction, such resolve.

At least that was what she wanted me to see. But I knew the truth.

I could see exactly how devastated she was at finding the image staring back at her from the paper. The fine lines of her slightly up-turned nose flared ever so slightly with her breath. The brown eyes that met mine firmly held only a trace of the terror that haunted her nights.

But that was me.

Anyone else gazing upon her would simply see a young woman, calm and collected, with the faintest hint of ire at the delayed presence of her butler.

"Have you been able to learn something of the man from the information presented in the news?"

Her eyes left mine and fell to the offending item on table. "Only one thing of import." She said before looking out the window. Her eyes fell unseeing over the complicated labyrinth of hedges. I knew her gaze was drawn in.

"He will be in London for a fortnight." Her voice was low, distant.

"Are you having second thoughts, My Lady?"

That got her attention. Honey hair flew as her head spun to face me. "Never, demon. You shall have your payment. Keep me alive long enough to do what I must and our contract will be fulfilled."

"My payment is not a concern, Mistress. Simply your state of mind."

She rose to her feet, looking for all the world a noblewoman. "Were this a normal arrangement, I would have your job."

I could feel the smile start and I did nothing to stop it. "Alas, this is not a normal arrangement, madam."

She turned her back to me and her head lowered. "No. Tis not. Normality was taken from me, wasn't it." This wasn't a question.

We both knew that answer.


Alanna


Normal.

That was simply a word now. Sounds strung together to form syllables. It held no meaning for me. It was lost in blood and pain, in screams and death.

Most of the world thought me buried. And by all rights, I should have been. It was only through hushed whispers among the servants my parents had when I was growing, that I still lived. Whispers that they had no idea the lonely little girl heard as she hovered in hallways. Always on the outside. Rarely included.

Whispers of a demon, who for a price, could see one's fondest desires come true. Oh, but the price was monstrous. At least I thought so at the time.

Seemed laughable now.

I could feel his hands on me now, running through my hair. He was pinning it up, piling it high on my head. It was time for the bath.

As he dropped those hands to my shoulders, he spoke.

"Are you ready, my Lady?"

This part of my day was never easy. And it shamed me that he knew this.

"Yes, I am." With a deep breath, I held my head high and turned from the window. He bowed and held out his arm. This time I wouldn't touch it. It was enough to know that he was near.

Silently, I led the way to the bathing room.

We had been through this enough to almost be comfortable around him as he slid the robe from my shoulders. The damned fashions that women were supposed to wear made it a necessity to have someone there to help. As I was dead to most of the world, it was Sebastian that this chore fell to.

His hands never lingered too long and he was completely professional as he helped me to disrobe. And as always, I refused to look down. They would not be going anywhere.

Scars.

Scars I didn't earn, didn't deserve. But I couldn't pity myself. No, It wasn't that I couldn't. I wouldn't. To do so would be to fall into despair. And despair never solved anything.

Only cold, rational, unfeeling logic.

And now I had a starting point.

I had a name.


Sebastian


I was impressed, I had to admit.

She was getting better at this. It wasn't my presence that bothered her, much to my chagrin.

No, it was her scars. In the early days of our contract, she fought against me seeing them, despite knowing it was me that tended her wounds and brought her back to health. It was only with me arguing that it would be hampering my duties that she finally relented.

As stubborn as Master Phantomhive, she was.

Ahh, that pain was, at long last, becoming more bearable. That loss, finally, seeming more distant.

The famous unfulfilled contract. Though I performed my duties superbly, my payment was stolen. Cast away by the whims of an addled boy.

My feelings for the young master was as close as a demon could ever come to love. And one could say mine was… unrequited.

Due to the nature of contracts and the fact that Alois was sharing my Lord's body, when Alois fulfilled his contract with Hannah, she granted him his wish. His wish was that Claude nor I could ever touch Lord Phantomhive's soul. Thus, it was locked away, turning him into the very thing I am.

But I learned, didn't I. Emotions have no place in a business transaction.

Even when the summoner screams in the middle of the night, a good butler holds himself stoic. Wasn't his place to offer comfort. When she hisses with pain from still healing wounds, from the tightening of her stays, one doesn't offer sympathies. And when the butler discovers his mistress in the nursery, holding a doll, tears streaming down her broken face, he certainly refrains from offering a shoulder to cry upon.

Evidently, I still had a bit of learning to do, as I was so entranced by my own thoughts, that when my Lady spoke, I almost didn't hear her.

"His name is Theodor Hutchins."

Her eyes met mine and there was an expression on her face that I had yet to see.

A smile.

The beauty of it took me aback, though I was careful not to show it. Such a simple curve to the lips. My own returned the curve as I silently vowed to see it more often.

That would be a most simple vow to keep.

A new game had begun.