Being the night before Christmas, you'd expect yourself to be somewhere a bit more... scenic. Perhaps sitting by a fire, indulging in some literary classics. Or drinking tea, while wrapping presents and topping them off with bright red bows.

Hardly.

Instead, you were freezing your ass off, standing with a group of little kids and singing Christmas songs door-to-door. You were trying hard to conceal yourself from the drifting silver snowflakes; your red "festive" dress with green accent was comprised of cheap fabric, so it didn't do much for the cold.

Being part of the local orphanage, you were forced to go caroling with your fellow orphans. Eliza, the owner, had given everyone Christmas-y attire, and ordered everyone to go "spread some Christmas cheer".

At 14, you were the oldest there, since most of the kids were adopted at young ages. Something about parents wanting to raise their children themselves. You went unnoticed by the passing asipring parents- you shrank back whenever it was time to examine the kids. You'd rather not live with some family you hardly knew; besides, all the stories foretold of abusive adoptive parents who pretended to be nice but really forced you to be a slave.

Well, you thought to yourself as you knocked rather angrily on the wooden doors in front of you, at least this is the last house.

The house you and the kids were visiting was a large one. The entire house was decorated cheerfully with gold tinsel, and a gigantic wreath adorned the doors.

"Oh, young master, how exciting! Carolers!" exlaimed a genuine voice as the doors swung open. A blast of heat escaped from the house, and a contented shiver ran up your spine. The owner of the voice was a girl- she wore a maid's outfit, with glasses showing off auburn eyes.

Ugh. This is humiliating.

"We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Chri-"

"Oh, how wretched."

A brash voice collided with your monotonous holiday singing, and you were somewhat relieved. You signaled for the others to stop as a boy, looking a bit younger than you, strode to face you.

"It's nine o' clock. Are you idiots or something? It's Christmas eve." He was short, with raven hair messily covering one eye, which was bound with an eye patch. His other eye was sapphire blue, and a discontented expression veiled his face. "I'm a busy man."

Man? This kid looks younger than me.

"My apologies," you said, stifling the rudeness you were compelled to distribute. "It's just us, the orphanage members, singing some songs for the priviledged." Maybe a little dose of guilt would make him feel bad. You were the one out in the middle of the night, after all, singing songs to people who didn't even really care in the cold.

"Master, they were only trying to give off some Christmas spirit! Maybe you need some."

"Mey-Rin, return to your duties."

You sighed, relieved that you didn't have to finish your performance. Turning, you motioned for the others to follow.

"Um, wait."

You turned, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Do you lot want to come inside? For some tea or something? It looks awfully cold."

Your guilt trip had worked. Smirking just slightly to yourself, you crossed your arms defensively. "No, no, I can't. I'm returning to the orphanage."

Now he looked pissed. "You don't simply turn down an act of kindness from Ciel Phantomhive! Who the hell do you think you are?"

A wave of gasps came from the group of orphans around you. You too were a bit shocked; Ciel Phantomhive? As in the owner of the Funtom company? They had some pretty good candy, and Ciel was supposed to be some big crime-solver. You could hardly believe that this scrawny boy in high heels was the owner of a popular company and practically solved the Jack the Ripper case.

"Alright, I suppose we come in, then."

The group of you entered the house, and it was lavishly decorated and extensively large. He cleared his throat. "Sebastian!"

A tall man clad in a black suit emerged from a darkened room, and you assumed him to be the manor's butler. He bowed slightly, and you stood awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to such a gesture.

"Sebastian, retrieve them some nice clothes. I can't bear to stare at this train wreck."

"Yes, my lord."

"Train wreck?" you barked defensively. "I'm an orphan, so where the hell am I supposed to get money for nice clothes?"

He smiled, somewhat condescendingly. "I'm an orphan as well. However, I have a business to run, so I have no place in an orphanage."

Before you could retort with a biting comment, Sebastian returned with a stack of fancy-looking clothes. He handed you an outfit, complete with a corset, and motioned you to the dressing rooms, which you entered. Staring into the wall-length mirror, you mentally agreed with Ciel; you did look like a train wreck.

Your dark brown hair hung limply around your face, damp with snow and scraggly from months without a haircut. Your ivory skin made you seem like a corpse in your crimson dress, and your gray eyes resembled a filthy pond. Perhaps a change of clothing would be suitable for the moment.

Changing into the outfit, you realized it was an off-the-shoulders gown; it was the color of soot, and although you didn't particularily favor the color black, you still liked the dress. The skirt flowed to the ground in a mess of lacy tiers, and the shape of the dress very much suited your frame. The only thing you couldn't figure out was the corset.

You had the article wrapped around your waist, but what the hell were you supposed to do with it? You knew the upper-class ladies wore these quite often, but you hadn't any experience with trendy clothes. A soft knock on the door startled you, and you quickly recovered.

"Yes?"

"It is Sebastian. Would you like any help?"

"Uh, yes, actually."

Okay, so what. You had to swallow your pride for a moment. It was better than having Ciel scorn you for looking stupid in your outfit.

Sebastian stepped inside respectively, bowing his head. The dress was only half-on, and the upper part hung loosely around your waist. Your upper section lay bare, except for the thin undergarment you had on, and the untied corset. Turning bright red, you watched as he snickered.

"Need help with the corset, I presume?"

"Yup."

He wordlessly approached, and began doing something with the corset. Whatever he was doing hurt a lot, and you could barely breathe out when he was finished.

"Why the hell are these things so popular?" You could barely make out the words, as the corset was so constricting. You silently feared that you would pass out and be at the mercy of Ciel, which you didn't want. You had a slight, newfound obsession with not wanting to be inferior to him, and you wanted to prove that you were independant.

"Milady, I believe they are used to accentuate the figure."

You nodded absently, finishing putting on the dress. Your white skin contrasted against the harsh shade of the gown, but you didn't mind. It actually looked kind of nice. "You can, uh, go now."

He nodded, bowing once again. With a small pivot, he exited gracefully.

Slipping on the stockings you'd been given, you wondered why someone as cold as Ciel would invite a group of carolers into his mansion. You supposed it was because he felt bad; after all, he too was without parents. Maybe he wasn't so cold after all; maybe it was just his stance so that he'd be respected and not taken advantage of.

Finally, you fastened on the high heeled boots and rose, leaving the room in a way you hoped was smooth. You made your way to the floor room, where Ciel sat casually on a stair and sipped tea. His eyes met yours briefly, and promptly he returned to his bored expression.

"Do I look stupid?"

"No, not very," he said. "You actually look rather attractive."

You could feel your face nearly burst into sparking flames. "Ah... thanks?"

Ciel half-smiled. "Don't become accustomed to compliments from me. I don't give them out a lot."

"Why did you even invite us in here?"

"It's almost Christmas. I would be a complete arse not to."

You giggled, and immediately stopped yourself. Giggling was something you were not a fan of- it made girls seem preposterously ditzy, which you didn't want to be mistaken for.

"Where are the others?"

"I've sent them to sleep. They are children, you know."

"Aren't you a child yourself?" you accused, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm thirteen. I'm not a child." He seemed genuinely angry, so you chose to leave the subject alone.

"I'm fourteen. I suppose I win."

He did not respond, and instead he stood. "Care to join me for a game of chess and cake in my office?"

"You don't seem like one to invite random strangers for a friendly game of chess."

He ignored you for the second time, and began walking up the stairs at a lethargic pace. "Accompany me or not. It's your decision."

"Perhaps I'll come," you drawled, purposely coming off as unsure and reluctant. You followed him gingerly up the stairs, where you eventually entered a large room. In the very center was a wooden desk. Ciel placed the chess board on the desk, and motioned for you to come forward.

"Know how to play chess?" He had a contented expression on his face; he knew damn well you didn't know how to play.

"Uhm... not precisely," you admitted. Better to tell the truth now than to get caught later.

He let out a dry chuckle, and silently distributed the pieces throughout the board. "Sit," he ordered, and you did so, across from his seat, facing the chess board. "I will demonstrate to you how, but if you don't understand the first time that isn't my fault."

He showed you exactly how to play; calmly and simply, he pointed out the name of each piece, and what they were used for. He explained the object of the game, and how to win. You nodded empathetically, although you still didn't exactly grasp the concept.

At some point, Sebastian wheeled in a tray of pastries, and you happily obtained a pastel colored macaron. Ciel watched you, amused, as you took yet another colorful cake and ate it quickly. "Are you prepared to play?"

"Yep."

You both initiated the game; he easily started well off, beating you terribly, and you let out a grunt of frustration as he knocked aside one of your pieces and made it to the opposite side. "Checkmate."

"That wasn't fair."

"Life isn't fair." He spoke playfully, but you could sense the seriousness behind his voice. You shrugged.

"Fair enough."

"So, what is your name anyway? I haven't been able to quite catch on."

You nibbled on a piece of Funtom candy, courtesy of Ciel, pondering whether you should tell him. "Well, my name is (y/n y/l/n), technically. According to my birth certificate. You can call me Autumn, though."

He nodded understandably. "And how exactly did you obtain the title of 'orphan'?"

For a split second, you were transported to the day your parents were so gruesomely murdered. The gunshots, ringing throughout the walls of your comfortable home. Your sweat-ridden body as you hid beneath a series of quilts for what seemed like hours, praying the intruder wouldn't find you. And then, discovering the dead bodies of your parents. It was sickening.

"I was ten," you explained timidly. "My parents were murdered while I was asleep in my room. The gunshots woke me up."

Although his face remained unaffected, a bout of recognition passed through his eyes. You could tell he related to you in some way. "My parents died in a terrible fire, in this very manor. They were also murdered."

From the tone of his voice, you easily picked up that he was finished discussing the matter. The only sound that filled the otherwise silent room was the faint sizzling sound as tea filled Ciel's delicate China cup. Sebastian had appeared from nearly nowhere.

"I suppose I'll be going to sleep, then."

"All right," Ciel said, taking a small sip from the rim of the cup. Sebastian gestured for you to follow him into a spare guest room, where a large canopy shielded a king sized bed, laden with silken sheets. An eggshell-white nightgown laid across the velour purple sheets, and you turned to Sebastian.

"Thank you very much."

"My pleasure, milady."

He departed, and you changed into the nightgown and settled beneath the sheets. For a while, you gazed out the large window, watching as dainty snowflakes drifted to the ground in a sheet of ivory. The occasional horse-drawn carriage would make its way down the ice paved streets, and you hoped Eliza wasn't worrying. You'd explain everything tomorow.

Somehow, you were happy you'd been invited inside. It was Christmas eve, after all. Didn't everyone deserve to have a pleasant Christmas? Enveloped in warm covers, your fragile body void of chill, you thought of where you would be if Ciel hadn't decided to be nice.

In a room, lying uncomfortably on a rickety cot as the springs poked through to your back and caused tiny marks to appear all throughout your body. Shuddering, you settled down in the bed.

You drifted to sleep quite easily. Eventually you were woken up by the distinct clanging of pots and pans, and you groggily lifted yourself to your elbows.

Someone was cooking.

Perhaps I'll assist, you decided. It was the least you could do for such a generous gesture. Not to brag, but you were a bit wonderful at cooking, Being the oldest at the orphanage had its advantages, which meant you had to help out in the kitchen.

Slinging your feet onto the side of the bed, you unbuttoned your nightgown and shuffled to the closet which you assumed would be filled with clothes.

You were not mistaken.

Dozens of gowns, of all shades, lined the inner part of the closet. You found it humorous, almost, that Ciel owned all of these gowns with no women in the house. Or perhaps he did, and she was just out of town.

He seemed a bit young for a fiance, but then again, he seemed a bit young for any of the things he did.

You chose a navy gown; it flowed to the ground and was scattered with miniature ribbon roses and bows. The midsection was low-cut, ruffly in the center, and pulled in your waist so far you almost felt like some sort of a doll, and there was no need for a corset. The dress was long sleeved, but completely left your shoulders bare. Slipping into the same shoes from yesterday, you followed the sound of pots clanking against one another.

What on earth could they be making?

You darted past Ciel's bedroom soundlessly, as to not wake him up, and you eventually turned up in a suitable-sized kitchen.

A man stood in the middle of the kitchen, ruffling his dirty blond hair. His back was to you, and he smelled intensely of cigarette smoke.

"Ahem."

He turned, and immediately let out a sound of relief. "I thought you were the young master or sumthin'. Wouldn't want 'im to see me in this state. You're Autumn, if I 'ont stand corrected?"

"Yes, that's me." You approached him gingerly, holding up the edges of your dress. "And you are?"

"Bardroy," he told you, his oceanic eyes squinting. "Call me Bard. Wot are you doin' up this early, milady?"

"You don't have to call me anything weird like that."

"Like what?"

"Milady. You can just call me Autumn."

"All roit then, Autumn. Wot are you doin' up?"

"I supposed I would help make breakfast."

A grin crossed his face feverishly. "Wow, really? You don't 'ave to. Especially on dis 'ere Christmas morning."

"Well, I'll help anyway, What are we making?"

"Pancakes."

"Sounds easy. Why don't we make something a bit more interesting."

He shifted, looking a bit uncomfortable as you began ransacking the cupboards for ingrediants. "I'm all for gourmet food an' all that, but I don't think 'ats a good idea."

Ignoring him, you began mixing a pasty batter. "It'll be nice. I'm gonna make a really good pudding flavored with cherries and french toast with a honey-lemon sauce and light powdered sugar dusting."

"Um... very well, then."

An hour later, you had all of the places set, and displayed all of the delicious food that you'd so delicately worked on. Bard filled each sitting cup with sparkling apple cider, and Sebastian descended from the staircase.

"What on earth? It smells rather nice down here."

"Yes," you said proudly, meeting him at the bottom of the stairs. "I assisted Bard in making a tasty Christmas breakfast."

Raising an eyebrow, he examined the setting. "How did you learn to cook like that, if you don't mind my asking, milady?"

"Lots of practice in the orphanage kitchen is all. It's very easy if you have the time to learn."

"What have you prepared for me, Sebastian?"

Ciel stood with pristine posture at the top of the stairs, eyeing the display questionably.

"Merry Christmas, my lord," the pale-skinned butler said, slightly bending at the waist. "For today, milady has prepared some exceptional food. You are sure to enjoy it."

"Why the hell would you cook? You're a guest here."

"I suppose I wanted to help."

He arrived downstairs, and nodded his head coolly. "Merry Christmas."

He took his seat at the head of the table, vaguely playing with his neck ribbon, and you sat in the seat across from him. "I saved a seat for your servants- I suppose they'd enjoy some food, too. After all, it is Christmas."

He seemed shocked, but he did not protest. The lot of the servants entered, and one you hadn't yet met entered the room. It was a short boy- he was very young, and his strawberry blond hair was restrained with a few bobby pins. With wide, nearly-violet eyes, he surveyed you and the young master. Judging by his attire, he seemed to be a gardener.

"Care to join us for some breakfast?"

"Oh- uhm, sure, then. Thank you very much- I ah, don't know your name. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right," you chuckled. "I'm (y/n), but you can call me Autumn. You are?"

"Finnian."

"Hello, Finnian! There's no need to be nervous. Would you mind getting the others to accompany us? It is Christmas, after all."

He jerked his head upwards, and turned to follow the task he had been granted.

You turned to Ciel. The rest of the orphans joined at the table, occupying seats, and Sebastian stood silently off to the side. "Merry Christmas."

"Ah, yes. Merry Christmas."

"You don't seem too excited."

"Why would I be?"

"I don't know. Don't all rich people like Christmas?"

"Hardly."

Examining his face, you wondered immensely why he was wearing an eye patch. How had he lost his eye? You bit your words back, not wanting to insult him by bringing attention to it, so you altered your words.

"Where are the others?"

Just then, four loud voices overlapped each other as four bodies accompanying the voices entered the room. Three of them you recognized- Finnian, Bard, and Mey-Rin. The last was a short, older man in a tailored suit. They took their positions, Mey-Rin smiling fiercly.

"Thank you so much for the breakfast invitation!" she trilled.

"It really isn't a big deal."

The moment Sebastian began to serve Ciel, the rest of you began. The food was very good, and the servants seemed delighted.

"So... Ciel," you said, trying to spark up some conversation as you bit into the French toast. "How is the food?"

"It's nice."

You supposed that was all the praise you would recieve from him, and somehow you were happy with it. Altogether, at that moment, you were entirely satisfied. Christmas morning, eating a delicious breakfast, in a comfortable setting that wasn't freezing cold.

The orphans were happy, the servants were happy, your momentary guardians were happy, and most importantly, you were happy.