A Kuroshitsuji semi-introduction fanfiction idea that had been eating away at me for what seems like a millennia. Enjoy. {includes OC}
My grandfather always told me that if I kept believing that fairies, werewolves and vampires existed, reality would drop a brick on my face sooner or later. Sooner was better than later, so I did an incredible thing. I burned my toys, and I became a lady.
The construction of The Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris began in 1875.
Nearly engulfed in fog, the rickety carriage wheels rolled into the entrance. As we crossed the plot line, I extended my neck out the window and 'uwaahh'd at the elegance of the twisting path of the trees masqueraded by fresh snow. Though it was only around the middle of November, both French and England climates had taken hold of the crisp winter air surly enough to deliver washes of snowflakes an early an eve as this. All of these factors complimented the beauty of the building that stood before us. The carriage driver chuckled at my wide eyes and assured that it was only the Town House.
As the horses slowed their pace, I grabbed a tight hold of the window frame and summersaulted out of the open window, clopping my way down the path to the front door in junior combat boots. My father, yielding behind, caught up to me and stiffly rang the bell. To my surprise, a handsome gentlemen with soft navy locks of hair opened the door with a polite smile.
"Welcome. I see you've brought your daughter. Please, come in, Lord."
My father, stoic and seemingly impatient, began to remove his scarf and top hat from his stout body while entering the house. I started to do the same, when a flash of pink caught my eye. I scrunched up my nose earnestly, looking at the man, then at the direction of the flash, then at the man. Opening his dark eyes to where I noticed a small mole by the left one, he gestured to the courtyard with the lasting smile.
"Go on. Your attention has been drawn elsewhere I presume. Children will be curious. Why don't you run along and I'll see to it we summon you when the time is right."
My father huffed and handed his scarf to the man. "Don't catch a chill."
I dashed off around the bend of the building, stomping through small, shriveling trees that toppled their snow into my boots. I reached the end of the matrix of brush as my poor-sighted eyes fixed on the pink object. A little girl. She looked to be about my age, with two large, twin spiraling curls of sunshine. I took a piece of my orange hair in my mitten and held it up to observe it in the light, displeased. A bit awestruck, I lost my balance and landed on a dead stick that snapped louder than I expected. The girl's head turned to reveal glittering green jewels where normal eyes should be. Her long black lashes batted at me, cradled by a pallet of creamy skin and rosy cheeks. My boring, blue eyes and ghostly pale skin dotted with freckles were an unfit disgrace in comparison. In a small voice with her warm breath curling in the icy air, she asked,
"Who are you?"
My lips parted slowly to a gaping hole, but no sound came out.
My name is Sofia Abadie. I am the betrothed of Ciel Phantomhive.
"No, no, NO! All wrong! Chin up! One leg has to be bent and backwards and- what's that movement you're doing with your hand?" Frances let out a drawled out sigh and her sword fell loosely from her palm.
"Auntie...?" The child bit his lower lip and straightened his posture. "Are you angry with me?"
Frances smiled weakly and knelt onto the polished woodwork. "Ciel, an aristocrat like yourself must learn fencing. And even so before he is wed."
His large royal blue eyes traveled drowsily around the room and his fingers twiddled amongst each other.
"I'm saying this as your family, not a master of the sword."
"I'm sure I'll get it, auntie," he lied.
She sighed again. "I'v got to attend to the estate. I'll be back here on thursday precisely at noon." she abruptly stood up and left the large ballroom. Ciel, feeling bereft, picked up the foil and began to forcefully jab at the air.
While I stood making breathless noises, the girl's cheeks flushed and she smiled weakly.
"...Your dress is beautiful."
"A-ah..." I lifted my head and my hands immediately clutched the hem of the skirt. "Y-your dress is lovely as well!" I squeezed harder. "Are you... do you live here?"
She chuckled and looked off and over at the rest of the town, that almost seemed to twist and bend off the edge of the world. She took soft, slow breaths, and her head hung low with the breeze sweeping in.
"No. I am Ciel's second cousin. Elizabeth Middleford." She extended her hand, which was clothed in a soft cloth glove with a white puff ball on the wrist. I timidly extended my hand, almost touching her fingers.
"I am Sofia."
Her emerald eye twitched, and the pink in her face faded as the corner of her mouth flickered, on and off, a frown, a grin. Her emotions were a toddler fussing with a light-switch. Her hand quickly drew back. Afraid I insulted her, I opened my mouth to speak.
"Sofia!" my name echoed again. She grabbed her forearm with the other palm as she pursed her lips in the direction of the sound, the recognizable hefty voice of my father.
"I'm sorry!" I ran off, my heart pounding.
I'm sorry.
Sorry if I insulted you.
For running off.
Winded, I hunched over when I made it to the doorstep, wheezing a bit. The kind man from before was still standing there with the door wide open.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" he patted my head with a familiar sense, which made me blush. I nodded and stepped inside.
A boy, a smidgen taller than I with the same hair color as the man, came from out of nowhere. it was when I heard the clopping of his shoes that I turned to meet eyes with him. He was thin, with a small necktie and trousers that hung against his small body. My eyes brightened, but he shoved a small flower in my face, causing me to flinch and sniffle.
"Hello." He said, playing with a small piece of his hair. He glanced at the man, then back at me. I was still rubbing my nose.
"Uh, you should have this."
He grabbed my arm that hung limply at my side, opened my fingers and put the flower inside. I scrunched up my face after examining it, and shoved it right back at him.
"I don't want it."
A bit taken back, he frowned.
"It's pretty, but it's pointless. Take it back. Thats not how friends start off." I grabbed his tiny ears and pulled them on either side, stretching his crooked mouth. "This is what friends do.
I'm Sofia, hello. I'm 11 and I was born in France. My grandfather is in poor health and my favorite flavor is strawberry. Now you."
"Shtuppurshingohnmaifaysh!"
"Are you speaking French, too? That was horrible."
The man's voice rang with humorous laughter while gently gripping my shoulder, releasing my grip on the boy's face.
"Sofia," he spoke, "this my son, Ciel."
Quickly, I curtsied at this new face.
"You may call me Vincent. If you would, we'd like you to stay the night with us tonight."
The Basilica Sacred Heart of Paris took 36 years of construction.
I acknowledged him with indifference, shrugging and gazing up at my father, who nodded his head but once.
Within it's hallowed halls, the figure of the lord makes his presence clear and digs deep within the spirit body of his visitors.
He is seen guiding the damned, and those who have far too long been wallowing in their sin.
I sat up in bed.
Without moving an inch, I stared down and onto the endless black land spread like a quilt over the land through the crystal clear window. The abyss glared back, unwavering and strange. I turned my head for a moment and looked over at the other side of the bed, where Ciel was hugging a feather pillow. I stared at his chest, which rose and fell with each gentle breath. With motherly adoration, my throat became tight and I worried for him. I then looked straight ahead of me, where a lone closet sat with innocence as the maroon curtains, looking gray, swayed out of the corner of my eye. The silence was thick. My ears throbbed. I slowly laid back down and my small head sank into the soft sheets, creating a sense of peace. Of drifting. Of floating.
I faded away as a dark figure grew long across the carpet.
{...I wanted to make a clever author's note, but that's not working out :I}