Due to some "complications" with this site, the original upload of this story was removed for "reasons" (which involved an apparent violation of guidelines that we all know are - well. I won't go there~) However, I know that many of you guys enjoyed this - as I did when I first published it - so I'm re-uploading the "censored" version so that I won't have it removed again and you guys can continue to read and enjoy it like I intended.
The full version can be read on my AO3 (username "GarryxMrChairFan") or on my fanfiction tumblr "the-spadian-queen".
The Darker Side of Cinderella
GarryxMrChairFan
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A/N: First in my Fairy Tales series and inspired by Cinderella.
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As with any fairy tale, this one begins once upon a time.
In a small kingdom, just on the edge of the quiet country surrounded by vast oceans and expanses of rolling hills and valleys, there lived a family of nobles in a quiet manor on the edges of the town. Residing within this family was a young earl, Vincent Phantomhive, and his wife, Lady Rachel Phantomhive, along with their servants.
For many years, the young couple lived peacefully and happily, attending to the duties required of their status. On a particularly dark and snowy December night, the young couple was blessed with a beautiful baby boy, with skin pale as the snow and silk soft, hair a unique bluish-grey slate color, and plump lips like pink rose petals. His eyes, however, were the most unique thing about him: his left eye was a dark sapphire blue, deeper than the most precious of the jewels, and held an intelligence within that almost shocked anyone who looked into it. His right eye could only be assumed to hold the same color, as it was also covered in a slightly glowing purple design – a pentagram with unusual symbols encased in a circle.
The symbol of the Devil.
It was an Unholy mark, a sign of sin and treachery, and anyone who believed the old superstitions accused the boy of being the property of a demon, bound to it through the mark. Rumors spread that because the poor boy was marked, there was a demon around, lying in wait to claim the boy's soul when he was of age.
His parents were not superstitious people and refused to believe that their son would ever fall to the path of sin and treachery, for he was kind and gentle, and took the accusations in a stride his parents praised him for, even at his toddler age. He took to wearing an eye patch to spare the superstitious having to look and inevitably hiss at his mark.
In the sixth year of the boy's life, Rachel fell ill, and was confined to her bed most of the days. Ever diligent, Vincent and her baby boy watched over her, pleading with her to get better and praying to any higher power that would listen to help her through. On the night of the boy's sixth birthday, her attacks were reaching the limit. As she lay dying, she reached into her gown and pulled out a chain with a locket side on the end, placing it in her son's small hand.
"I will always be with you, Ciel," she said, tears silently leaving trails down her cheeks. "Be strong, and remember: you will always be loved." Closing her eyes, her breathing finally stopped.
Tears streaking their faces, Vincent and his son wept for their beloved wife and mother, unwilling to release the tight grips each had on the other until the morning light broke through.
A week later, they stood solemnly in front of the dark mahogany coffin that was the final resting place of Rachel Phantomhive, Ciel laying a beautiful white rose on her cold hands before turning with his father to leave the gravesite.
Three years passed, and Vincent came to Ciel with news that he was marrying another woman, for he believed that Ciel needed a mother figure in his life. Because the woman had also been previously married, Ciel would also be gaining two brothers with whom he could learn to develop his social skills.
In silent outrage, Ciel merely nodded his head and followed his father to be introduced to his step-mother. She was finely dressed in a long red coat that hung to her calves, an off-white blouse with a ruffled cravat around her neck, and a straight black skirt. On her head rested a wide-brimmed red hat that covered the deep red chin-length locks that framed her face.
Vincent introduced her as Madame Red, a countess from a couple of towns over. She smiled sweetly and inclined her head in greeting, which Ciel returned out of habit. Before he could turn and head back to his room, two other heads bobbed into the manor, one with waist-length fiery red hair and the other with slicked back dark brown hair, both of whom wore a pair of glasses over their bright green eyes. Madame Red introduced them as her sons, Grell – the redhead – and William – the brunette.
In the three years before the next tragic event in Ciel's life, he did nothing more than simply tolerate the presence of his step-mother and siblings. Madame Red seemed kind enough, though once in a while Ciel would catch her glaring in his direction for reasons he never could deduce. Grell and William were civil towards him while his father was present, but quickly took to mocking him and berating him while they were alone, bullying him for the mark under his eye patch.
In the twelfth year of his life, Vincent fell ill in the same fashion as Rachel had. He was bedridden most of the time and it was left to Ciel to perform the duties of Earl during the day. At night, Ciel would lay with his father in the king sized bed – as Madame Red had decided to move to a guest room to avoid contracting whatever disease Vincent had come down with, which was preferable to Ciel – and plead silently with his eyes the same thing they'd done for Rachel.
"Please don't leave me with them, father," he pleaded, gripping his father's shirt tightly. "I know you believe they mean well, but you're not ever present when they mock me, or berate me, or bully me for my mark." Ciel trembled in his father's arms, watching the sun disappear beyond the horizon. Some part of him knew his father would not be waking to see the sunrise.
Vincent sighed, coughing. "I'm so sorry, Ciel," he murmured. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you the way you needed. Please forgive me." He reached into his own shirt and pulled out a mirroring locket clasp like the one Rachel had given to Ciel and handed it to his son. "This fits the other piece," he explained, wrapping Ciel's fingers around the hard metal.
Ciel's eyes were a running stream, and he feared the trails would be etched into his skin forever. "Please, daddy," he pleaded, burying his face in his father's chest. "Don't leave me."
Vincent wrapped his arms around Ciel before pushing him away as a cough wracked his body. "Never, Ciel. I will never leave you," he stated, holding Ciel's hand. "I will always be with you, just as your mother is." Vincent closed his eyes and Ciel knew he was once again with his wife.
The funeral, as last time, was a week after. The coffin was mahogany, and Ciel placed a white rose with his father before turning and heading away, leaving a stony-faced Madame Red, a bored Grell, and an impassive William to pretend to care that the late Earl Vincent Phantomhive had meant anything to any of them.
Not a day later was Ciel forced out of his room and to the servants' quarters, stripped of all his belongings save the locket and eye patch, and forced into a room with a window no bigger than his head, a bed with no frame, a chest of drawers that looked moldy, and a cracked mirror. The only clothes provided were tattered shirts and trousers, and a heap of maid's dresses that were surprisingly in fair condition.
He put up no fight against his step-mother, quietly accepting his fate with a grace that seemed to infuriate her. She took to beating him when all he did was respond quietly and calmly with the respect she demanded, and he was even occasionally forced to take on other servants' tasks as well as his own. His normal tasks consisted of making breakfast for the Madame and her sons – for they grudgingly decided unanimously that his culinary skills were superb and knew that he would not attempt to poison them, no matter his feelings towards them – cleaning and preparing the bedrooms, and scrubbing the hallways.
The only friends he could claim were those of his now-fellow servants: the ever-clumsy maid Mey-Rin; the overly-cheerful gardener Finny; the brash and strong-willed pyrotechnic cook Bard; and the all-knowing, patient and gentle butler Tanaka. Those four had been there when Ciel had come into the world and had looked after him as if he were their little brother, and in Tanaka's case a grandson. While all the other servants of the house treated him respectfully as they would another of their kind, the four he had grown up with still called him "young lord" and "young master" and "bocchan." They even still bowed when he walked into a room if they happened to be present. Only in his small smiles did he ever show them the gratitude he felt for them caring for him, and that was all they ever seemed to need.
As the years passed, Ciel fell into the routine of waking early, preparing breakfast, and working on his chores with a diligence that worried some. He was never allowed out of the manor, which the townspeople praised Madame Red for keeping the "devil's property" out of sight and putting him in his place. Though he was worked as a servant, Madame Red could never squash the beauty that the boy radiated out of him. Though she'd never admit it, she was jealous that the brat was so much more attractive than her own sons. The mark in his eye only added to the mysterious beauty, in her opinion, so she kept him out of the public eye, even if they were afraid instead of captured by his beauty. It was all she could do to make sure her sons took the spotlight as they grew and were noticed by the many nobles in the town. She could only hope it was enough.
Closing in on six years after the Earl Phantomhive's death found the prince of the kingdom angrily stomping down the marble hallways of the palace, mumbling under his breath, merlot-colored eyes narrowed as he made his way to the throne room. Like Ciel – though none of them knew that – his birthday was coming up, and he was turning twenty-one. As the law required, he was to choose a bride by the time that day rolled around and be married at midnight the night of the twenty-first of December, which just happened to be his actual day of birth. It was a tradition that spanned centuries, and he often questioned the idiot that started it. So far, it was late October, the season of the dead almost upon the kingdom, and he had yet to even look at any potential candidates for future queen.
Storming heatedly into the grand room decked in deep gold wallpaper and honey-tinted support beams, draped in royal hues of purple and glinting chandeliers, he huffed loudly as he approached the thrones where his parents resided during the day.
The King had dark hair framing the sides of his pale face, with an angular jaw and a long slender nose, on which rested a delicate pair of frameless glasses that shielded golden eyes behind. His thin lips were set in a thin line and his head rested against his fist as he watched his son approach, kicking a leg up over the knee of the other and crossing them. He was typically a stoic man, not showing much emotion outwardly, but harboring deep care and concern for his subjects. He often met with concerned citizens to discuss ways of improving life for those of a peasant rank, though he never allowed his subjects to take advantage of his generosity. He could be ruthless, and that fact kept everyone in line.
The Queen sat to his left, her long lavender hair braided loosely and draped over her right shoulder. Her skin was a deeper tan, still holding the sunlight of when she would work outside in her gardens as a Countess before the King saw her and made her his. She was quiet and calm, and always stood behind her husband's decisions. She could be just as stern and demanding as she could be gentle and caring, and was revered as one of the greatest queens the kingdom had ever been blessed with. She observed with her never-ending motherly patience as her son stood before his parents, arms crossed over his body and a fire in his crimson eyes.
"You summoned me, father?" he asked sarcastically, raising a dark eyebrow and setting his lips in a thin line.
The King raised an eyebrow, mirroring his son. "Yes, Sebastian," he replied, deep voice sliding smoothly into the room as he shifted in his throne, crossing his legs the other way. "I believe we need to discuss your duty as prince," he continued, staring pointedly into the young man's eyes.
Sebastian scoffed. "What? My impending doom?" he asked, staring back at his father. "I haven't found anyone yet. What is there to discuss?"
"Sebastian, that's what we want to discuss," the Queen spoke softly to him, leveling a look at him that caused a sigh to escape his lips and him to drop his arms. "There's little more than a couple months before your birthday, and you have not chosen a bride. At this rate, we are going to have to choose one for you, and I know that you do not want us to make that decision."
Sebastian rolled his eyes and sighed. "No, I do not want that," he conceded, looking out a window to his left. "But I cannot seem to find someone to suit my tastes."
"Have you bothered going out to look?" the King questioned, rolling his own eyes. "As far as I can see, you've never purposely gone to meet any of the available Ladies or Countesses to get to know them, and instead spend your time either wandering the halls of the palace or riding out to the countryside to be away from society." The King stood, walking down the few steps to stand before his son. "How do you expect to find someone when you don't look?"
Sebastian sighed again. "Because I don't want to have to find someone," he said through his teeth, knowing his parents meant well but still unenthused by the idea of having to settle down with some whore. "Those that I have been forced to meet are little more than cheap whores who only want me because of my position," he stated, hearing his mother sigh and his father snort a grudging agreement, "and I refuse to settle with one. If I marry, I want it to be because I found the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, not because some ancient tradition says I have to." He paused, frowning. "Who even came up with that tradition, anyway? How idiotic."
The King sighed. "That tradition's been around for so long, there isn't anyone who could say," he said, folding his arms. "But you cannot take all the time in the world to choose a bride," he stated, gold eyes burning into crimson. "Not only will you need a queen to take over the kingdom with someone at your side, you will need an heir as well."
The Queen stood up, making her way to her two men and resting a hand on her son's cheek. "We are only making sure you are prepared when it's your turn," she whispered, smiling softly. "And to keep everyone calm, you need a family, because one man cannot accomplish what he and loved ones can." She smiled wider, lacing her arm through her husband's. "Claude, perhaps we can help him attempt to meet someone suitable," she suggested, looking into his gold eyes.
He looked back for a minute before sighing again. "I guess that may not be a bad idea, my love," he replied, looking at his son. "We shall throw a masquerade ball for All Hallows Eve and invite all those who are available as suitors," he said, watching his son's crimson eyes flash a demonic vermillion. "Get to know them," he encouraged as he walked away with his wife. "If you do not choose someone to pursue at the ball, we will be forced to choose for you by the end of the next month."
Sebastian watched his parents walk out of the throne room, standing statue still in place until his breathing regulated. He wanted to rip something apart. It wasn't that he was opposed to marrying – he just wanted to find the one that held the mark – his mark. From what little research he'd been able to do, the mark on his hand signified that someone had been chosen as his mate and that they were bound together through a bond that ran soul-deep. A mark had not been bestowed since the first king several thousand years previous, and Sebastian couldn't help but wonder why he was to one to be given one. His parents did not know of the mark, as Sebastian had kept it to himself since it first appeared the week before his third birthday. He'd been so scared of what it meant that he didn't want anyone to know.
Sebastian sighed, pulling off the glove on his left hand to once again examine the dark pattern on the back of his hand: a pentagram with demonic symbols, encased in a circle. He stared at it for a moment before sliding the hand back into the white glove. If the kingdom were to hear that their prince and future king was a demon, he couldn't imagine the uproar it would cause. He couldn't imagine the uproar it would cause if the kingdom heard that their current king was a demon. He didn't even want to think on what would ensue if the kingdom knew they'd always been ruled by creatures of Hell.
Those thoughts were best left alone.
. . .
Ciel stared at the cracking ceiling to his room, watching as it brightened little by little as the sun rose in the sky. When he could just make out the brown color in the dark wood, he rolled off of the mattress onto the floor, picking himself up before padding to the washroom. He splashed the cold water from the basin on his pale face, staring dejectedly into the grimy mirror before him. His skin was just as pale as always, his hair the same slate color but a little greasier, as he hadn't had the honor to shower in at least a week. His sapphire eye seemed dull, even to himself, and his marked eye only gave off a faint glow, barely perceptible unless one knew it was there. At least he didn't look sick – his step-mother wasn't heartless enough as to not feed her servants well. She knew that sick servants could not perform, and if anyone were to see sallowness in her servants, it would reflect badly on the public image she displayed.
No. She was seen as benevolent and caring.
Pfft. As if.
Ciel snorted and padded back to his dank little excuse of a room over to the wardrobe to prepare for the day. He glared into the dark closet, dragging out one of the cleaner maid's dresses and walking over to the oval mirror to dress. He stripped himself of his nightshirt and trousers, throwing them in the pile he needed to remember to wash that night. Sighing, he slid the dress over his head, doing up the buttons in the front while staring at himself in the mirror.
Even at almost eighteen years of age, Ciel was quite feminine-looking for a male. Though lean and slightly muscled from his labor as a servant, his build was slight and his hips were slender. He was also quite a bit shorter than a boy his age should be, having topped at a height of five foot five where most boys would be six feet if not taller. His face was also still soft in its angles, making him look delicate and fragile.
Sighing, Ciel picked up the apron and tied it around his waist, frowning hopelessly at himself. The fact that he could put on a dress with ease and wear it well had stopped bothering him before he'd ever had to wear one. He'd decided the first day as a servant that the dresses were probably more comfortable and durable than the pathetic rags that were the shirts and trousers, and figured he'd let his step-brothers get it out of their systems early to make fun of him cross-dressing. Knowing they'd just force him into one anyway, he'd taken that opportunity away from their arrogant hands and proudly presented himself with breakfast the next morning in one of the dresses, smirking inwardly at the gaping faces of his "family."
Shaking his head, he tied on his eye patch and made his way to the kitchens to start breakfast. Grabbing the frying pan and kettle, he set water to boil and commenced making omelets with fresh-sliced ham, cheese and chives. Simple, but he knew that his "family" weren't exactly morning people and tended to eat light for the most important meal of the day. He fried small portions of potatoes and when the kettle whistled he poured the boiling water into a teapot, setting in a teabag to finish the tea. Laying a slice of freshly fried bacon into each of the omelets, he folded them over, plated them, and arranged a small side of the hash browns next to the omelets. He set a slice of fresh toast and a small container of each member's favorite jam on the remaining portions of the plates and loaded each onto a cart. He grabbed the teapot and three teacups, setting them on the cart and making sure everything looked presentable before rolling it out into the dining area.
Serving each member in turn, he set the plates down directly in front of each before pouring the tea, making sure each had everything they usually required before standing in his designated corner to await orders of more tea or, on rare days, of more food. He silently observed Madame Red looking over papers pertaining to her business and designs for a new clothing line she had planned for her chain; Grell was busy rambling on to his brother about some such gossip, and William looked about as interested as the floorboards, as usual.
After making a second round for tea, Ciel quickly cleared away the plates and took them to the kitchen for Bard to wash before heading to the farthest wing of the house from the servants' quarters. Starting on the second-level guest rooms, he began his routine of clearing up the rooms. Madame Red often entertained many guests at a time, so the rooms were always in use. Ciel sighed, making sure no dust could be found on any of the shelves, making the bed and neatly folding the clothes of the current guests, if the room were occupied. He organized any knickknacks of the guests unless told not to disturb, and made his way around the manor in the same fashion.
He saved his and his parents' rooms for last, seeing as how no one was allowed to utilize them on orders of Madame Red. She was adamant enough about it that she'd even turned down a few big clients because the guest rooms were full. If it were just that one aspect, that was the only thing for which Ciel appreciated her. Ciel simply made sure that everything was kept in order and undisturbed, straightening the bed sheets on occasion and opening the windows every couple weeks to keep them aired out. It was the very least he could do.
As he made his way through the halls with a bucket full of soap and three washcloths after finishing with the rooms, a knock sounded loud on the entry doors. Being right in the foyer, Ciel set down his cleaning supplies to open the grand doors and raised an eyebrow at the palace guard standing before him.
Sighing inwardly, Ciel bowed slightly at the waist and looked back up at the guard. "Good afternoon, sir," he said, his voice tired. "Welcome to the House of Phantomhive. How may we be of service?"
The guard bowed back, reaching into a tote he carried over his shoulder. "Thank you, miss. I have been ordered to deliver invitations to His Royal Highness' All Hallows Eve Masquerade Ball to all available noble ladies for the night of October thirty-first, in honor of His Highness' son." He paused for a moment. "How many reside in the House of Phantomhive?"
Ciel sighed again, refraining from rolling his eye at the "miss" remark, and shifted on his leg. "No noble ladies of available status reside within the House, sir," he said. "Unless His Highness wishes to also invite noble lords as well, I'm afraid I have to apologize for wasting your time." Before Ciel could shut the door, the guard thrust four invitations at him. Blinking, Ciel looked up at the guard, raising his brow.
"I apologize, miss, but I was also ordered to hand out a minimum of four invitations to the Houses without noble ladies to give to four of the servant girls, should there be at least one," he said quickly, giving Ciel a small smile. "Though His Highness would prefer his son marry a noble, he conceded the point that perhaps his son may be drawn to someone of a lower status." He shrugged. "Not really any of my business; I'm just following orders."
Ciel's eyebrow stayed raised as he took the invitations from the guard. "Thank you, sir," he mumbled, bowing his head. "I will inform the Madame right away."
The guard smiled again. "Should you not have enough girls, the noble lords will be able to attend, though the Madame will need to be present to affirm that there are indeed no other girls available."
Ciel nodded, flashing a quick fake smile before the guard turned away and he shut the door. Turning around, he glanced at Madame Red, who stood near the bottom of the staircase with her arms crossed.
"What was that about?" she asked, frowning at Ciel.
Ciel waved the invitations at her, beckoning her forward to snatch them. "Invitations to a ball His Highness is throwing on All Hallows Eve," he replied, watching as she tore into one of the invitations and confirmed his statement. "The guard said that they are to go to any female servants in the household – seeing as we do not have any noble ladies – though if there are not enough female servants, that you and your sons may use the invitations and attend yourselves."
Madame Red raised an eyebrow at him, setting her red lips in a tight line as Grell bounded into the hallway to his mother, followed by William. "Oh, mother!" he shouted, clapping his hands. "Whatever do you have there?"
Madame Red looked down at Ciel before looking over to her sons with a sneer on her face. "These are invitations to His Highness' All Hallows Eve Masquerade Ball," she replied in a sickly sweet tone. "Seeing as how we do not have any ladies in the house, you, William and I will be attending in place of." She glanced back at Ciel.
Raising his eyebrow, he made his way over to his cleaning supplies, picking them up and adjusting them in his arms. "I'll be cleaning the west wing first," he said sarcastically, though he really did plan on cleaning the west wing first. "I suggest you stay away while the floor dries." He sneered to himself. "Wouldn't want to twist an ankle before the ball," he muttered under his breath.
"Ciel."
He paused in his trek down the corridor, half turning his head back to Madame Red who had called his name. "Yes, ma'am?" he said.
She crossed her arms. "There are four invitation here," she pointed out, handing one to each Grell and William, and tucking a third under her arm. She waved the fourth in the air.
"Indeed there are, ma'am," he acknowledged, waiting for her to just get to the point. He had things to attend to.
Glaring at him, she gritted her teeth. "Complete all the tasks you are given with utmost precision and detail, and I will allow you to attend the ball as well." She seemed to grind her teeth as she forced the words out. It was still known that the young earl was alive, though he never showed himself, and it may seem strange if he didn't show up to the ball. She could easily claim that she had no female servants; there was only the one clumsy one, and she usually was kept out of the guests' ways.
Ciel couldn't stop the scoff that left him. "Right, because you'd let me attend even if I managed to complete whatever assignments you'd assign to keep me overly occupied," he bit out, frowning. "How about we make this easy, and I just don't go at all?" he asked, crossing his arms. "We have a perfectly sweet maid that would be much easier to not worry about, anyway." With that, he made sure he had his supplies and again began to make his way down the corridor.
"Because the Earl Phantomhive has yet to show his face for almost six years," she stated, rolling her eyes. "What would it look like if he was issued an invitation, and didn't show up?"
Ciel paused again. "I don't know; what would it look like, Madame Red?" he asked before continuing down the hallway. "His Highness wants women anyway," he threw over his shoulder. "An earl can't produce an heir with the prince."
"Go and you'll get your status back!" she shouted at him.
This froze Ciel in his tracks. For six years he'd been berated and treated like the servant they'd forced him to be. Every night before falling asleep, he would wish that, even for a day, he could live as the earl he knew he was. He didn't feel like an earl, but he knew he was one. It was a position he'd been born into, and Madame Red had prevented him from claiming his birthright. He bit his lip, considering. What have I to lose? he thought bitterly. The worst she can do is laugh and break her word. I've been a servant long enough that it really wouldn't be a bother. He turned to face her. "Fine," he spit, letting some of the resentment he'd been harboring for six years seep into the one word. "I'll go, on that condition."
She sneered. "Well, I guess we'd better get you something to wear."
Ciel rolled his eye, stalking off to clean the floors of the west wing.
. . .
The week leading up to the ball was slow and hard on Ciel. Despite Madame Red's insistence that he attend the ball, she seemed to be doing everything she could to wear him out so he'd be unfit to attend. Straining his muscles as he cleaned the floor, he guessed that she'd decided offering him his position was not worth it, and perhaps would rather make an excuse of him being in ill health. However, he still couldn't help feeling slight excitement at the thought of getting out of the manor and possibly returning to the position waiting for him.
The day of the ball arrived, and Madame Red hadn't so much as offered him any of his clothes back. Instead, he was dumped handed down clothing items from his step-brothers and told to come up with something from them. Having no clue what to do with any of it, the four servants still loyal to him ushered him out to the gardens and served tea with the order of "just relax here and we'll take care of it!" from Mey-Rin. So he sipped his tea and closed his eyes under the waning sun, watching his eyelids become darker as it set over the horizon.
When he was dragged back to his room, he was suddenly drenched with lukewarm water and scrubbed harshly, getting rid of all the dirt and sweat from the previous week. Standing in a towel, he waited blind as the quartet dressed him in the outfit they'd managed to pull together. When he was allowed to see it, he was surprised to find himself in a decent pair of shorts, knee-high stockings, a white blouse with a dark blue bow cravat, and black vest. He looked like the male he was, and like the earl he was supposed to be.
Tying the eye patch on, he thanked each one of them for giving him just a moment of his old life back before heading out to the foyer. As he walked out, he heard a screech and a flash of red was before him.
"Where the hell did you get this?" Grell yelled at him, yanking the cravat off of his neck and ripping it in the process. "That was mine!"
William joined him after a second, yanking the vest apart and scattering the buttons. "And that was mine. How dare you wear my clothes?"
Ciel sighed deeply, holding out his arms and allowing his step-brothers to continue tearing at his attire, shifting his weight to one foot as they destroyed his moment of happiness. Figures, he thought as they ripped his shirt sleeves. They knew I'd look better and didn't want to be upstaged by the demon-marked child of Phantomhive, so Madame Red probably encouraged them to ruin my chance right at the very last moment.
When they were done, the two boys turned up their noses and headed back over to their mother. She sneered, curling her lip. "Whoops, looks like you don't have anything to wear."
Ciel glared. "Wonder how that could've happened."
Her sneer increased in intensity, and she shuffled her sons out the door. "Have fun at home, Ciel." And they were gone.
Shirt in tatters, vest and cravat destroyed, Ciel stormed through the manor to the gardens, collapsing on the marble bench by the little pond hard and laying on it, feet dangling off the end and one arm off the side. He stared at the moon until Finny's face interrupted his line of sight.
"I'm sorry, Ciel," he wailed, throwing his arms around his young lord and crying into his shoulder. "You should've been able to go."
Ciel glanced around and saw Mey-Rin, Bard, and Tanaka standing around him, faces set in somber expressions. Mey-Rin attempted a small grin at the display that was Finny, and Bard scratched the back of his head. Tanaka stood as he always did, quietly observing.
"Perhaps he still can go, kekeke~" a voice said through the air.
The five started and looked around, wondering where the voice came from before a man in dark robes billowing about and a tall and long black hat resting on waist-length silver locks that covered his eyes emerged from the shadows under the weeping willow by the pond.
Ciel regarded him for a moment, trying to get Finny to release his choke hold as he examined the man. "Who are you?" he finally settled on.
The man chuckled again. "Why, I'm the Undertaker," he replied, bowing low. "And I'm here to get you to that ball." He chuckled once again.
Ciel raised his brow at the Undertaker. "Please don't tell me your putting me in a coffin to transport me."
The Undertaker cackled at that, grasping his sides as he gasped for breath. "Oh, Ciel, you are absolutely hilarious!" he chortled, finally straightening up. "But no, you will arrive as everyone else does." His smile was wide, and Ciel could just make out a scar running along his face.
Ciel huffed. "Well, unless you have an outfit in your robes, it really won't matter."
Another chuckle and the Undertaker whipped out a scythe, pointing it at Ciel. "No, just a bit of magic to change your tattered attire." A flash of light, and the Undertaker set his scythe on the ground, thrusting out a hip and placing his free hand on it. "There. That should do."
Ciel looked down at himself after cleaning his eye of white spots. He was in a dress of pink satin, trimmed with bows and ribbons the color of his hair. His black gloves reached to his elbows and on his head sat a wide-brimmed hat. Hair extensions had been added, tied up on either side of his head in pigtails, and his bangs hung low over his marked eye, hiding the glow.
He frowned. "And why exactly is it a dress?" he inquired, huffing.
The Undertaker cackled. "Well, considering the ball is a masquerade, dressing up was the whole point." His creepy grin widened further. "Besides, you wouldn't want to be recognized by your family, correct?" He cocked his head to the side, his long silver hair fanning out to the side. "Oh! You wouldn't want to forget this!" A turn of his scythe, and he was holding a delicate mask, one eye pale as Ciel's skin, the other black. A vine pattern was etched around in a border in a deep sapphire blue.
Ciel took it carefully, tying the strings in the back of his head. A sigh. "Guess I'm ready," he muttered.
The Undertaker continued chuckling as he swung the scythe again, and a black carriage with two horses with the purest midnight black coats emerged out of low rolling fog. Another swing of the scythe had Bard and Mey-Rin in matching outfits of the same midnight black: Bard's normal chef's shirt converted into a black button-down with the sleeves rolled like he normally had them and a fresh pair of slacks with dark boots; Mey-Rin's dress looked similar to her maid's, though the sleeves were rolled up like Bard's. Both had masks of black silk over their eyes. Finny's outfit shifted to match Bard's, though his trousers were a pair of shorts, with the same mask adorning his face, and he was now wearing a tall pair of boots.
"And now you have a crew," the Undertaker mused, leaning on his scythe. "Go enjoy your freedom, Earl," he said as Mey-Rin helped Ciel into the carriage. "Oh, and your customary warning: the magic wears off at midnight. Be home or be found." He cackled once more before vanishing into the night.
Contemplating the spot the Undertaker had been standing for a moment, Ciel shook his head and said, "I guess I've got a party to go to." His servants bowed and the carriage took off, making the journey to the palace.
It was going to be a long night.
. . .
When Ciel arrived at the palace, Mey-Rin helped him out of the carriage, handing him his invitation and giving him an encouraging shove in the direction of the stone steps leading to the entrance.
"Go have some fun tonight, bocchan," she said, smiling sweetly. "We'll be waiting here for you, yes we will!"
He gave her a small smile in return and headed up the stairs, thankful that the Undertaker had put him in his own pair of flat-soled boots instead of some dreadful heels. Why royalty insisted on two sets of a hundred steps each boggled his mind.
Arriving at the grand doorway, the guard on duty requested his invitation, which he flicked the guard's way before entering the place. Glowing candlelight from grand chandeliers and soft music from a symphony orchestra greeted his senses of sight and sound, the music guiding him through the grand hallways as he followed a line of guards directing him to the Great Hall Ballroom.
What he supposed were the windows were draped in curtains in deep blues, purples, reds and black. The lights in the Ballroom were a much lower candlelight, giving off a subdued and slightly creepy atmosphere. He noticed the symphony orchestra in the far corner of the room, set up on a tall black stage with dark wood instruments resting against them appropriately, eerie yet comforting music wafting through the haze that was present in the grand room. A slight incense also wafted through the air, lulling the senses and setting the mind at ease.
Ciel wandered through the bodies, swaying slightly with the music and to avoid running into the dancing groups and couples milling about and enjoying themselves, every other person and their patron gripping tightly to glasses of champagne. Giggly laughter and booming chortles erupted every now and then, and Ciel found himself slightly smiling despite being in a ridiculous dress.
He leisurely glanced around, taking in the sights of the gowns of the ladies and suits of the men, noticing the elegance in the sweeping motions of the skirts and the flipping of long hair. Every person was adorned with a unique mask; he could see animals such as fox faces and crow beaks, lions and tigers and even a random alligator. Some were just simple masks, like his own, designs ranging from fairly simple like his to uncannily complex. Some masks held a more human look, like jesters or the frowning/smiling face of the symbol for the theatrical arts.
Refusing yet another glass of champagne from a masked servant, Ciel wandered over to a table set with different finger foods for the guests, constantly being replenished by cooks and their sous chefs. He decided that he wasn't hungry enough to bother with the food, but that the position would give him an excellent vantage point for people watching. After standing a few minutes, a girl about his age with curled blonde pigtails in a very frilly and lacey pink and white dress headed in his direction. Her mask was white like the lace bows on her skirt, with pink swirls framing the edges. The small top hat on her head was a brilliant pink to match her dress, but was trimmed in black instead of white. She stopped right next to Ciel, tilting her head to the side and smiling wide.
"Your dress has got to be one of the cutest ones here tonight!" she exclaimed excitedly, giggling uncontrollable, holding a hand daintily to her lips. "I absolutely love it!"
Ciel wasn't sure how he wanted to respond, seeing as how he really shouldn't have been wearing the dress to begin with, but he also was raised better than to be rude to a young girl. "Thank you kindly," he managed, raising his voice just slightly. It really didn't take much effort – not only did he look feminine, he sounded pretty feminine as well.
The girl giggled again. "I'm Elizabeth," she stated, throwing herself at Ciel and hugging him tightly. "But you can call me Lizzy. What's your name?" She glanced up at him and he could just make out a pair of deep green eyes behind the mask.
"Um.." Ciel stuttered for a moment before making something up on the spot. "My name's Cecelia," he said, figuring it was close enough to his own name so that he'd remember it if someone else asked.
Lizzy squealed, tightening her grip and causing Ciel to struggle against her. "OH! That's such a cute name!" she gushed, her smile growing wider. "EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS JUST TOO ADORABLE!"
Finally having had enough of the overly mushy blonde, Ciel managed to push her embrace away, straightening his skirt and mask before turning away. "It was very nice to meet you, Lizzy, but I'm afraid I need to find my escort. Good night," he said swiftly, walking away.
"Alright! See you later, Cecelia!" And the blonde headed back over to the group she had originally come from.
Sighing in relief, Ciel turned into the crowd to run into something solid and warm. "Oof!" he exclaimed as he and whatever he'd run into almost tumbled to the floor.
"Oh, my! I am terribly sorry, my little robin!" said a voice from slightly above his head. Ciel felt himself steadied by gloved hands and looked up into the face – or most of a face – of a young man with brilliant blond hair that was nearing white, wearing a white suit with a purple vest and the mask of a jester.
A sudden chill ran up his spine, and Ciel had to refrain from shuddering in a bout of creepy disgust. Instead, he allowed a slight blush to warm his cheeks and looked away shyly. "No, no, sir," he said shakily, hating himself for his flawless performance. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
The man straightened up, a gloved hand caressing Ciel's cheek affectionately. Another shudder ran up his spine. "It was entirely my fault, my little robin!" the man insisted, pulling Ciel closer. "And what a beauty you are! I am Aleister Chamber, Viscount of Druitt. And what name has been bestowed upon you?"
Trying not to gag, Ciel forced his way out of Aleister's hold. "I am very sorry, Viscount," he managed in a huff, "but I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere. My escort is waiting for me." Before the Viscount could say anything more, Ciel walked off, leaving him sighing in content and muttering about beauty.
Shaking off the experience, Ciel noticed an open window leading to a small enclosed sitting area and further beyond what he assumed to be the gardens. Not wanting to run into any more creeps, Ciel made his way to the exit, letting the shadows of the long curtains envelop him as he sat on a bench by the granite rails encasing the sitting area. He sighed deeply, glancing up at the night sky.
The night was dragging on.
. . .
Sebastian sat bored in a corner of the Ballroom, staring morosely out into the fray of guests getting drunk on champagne and moving together in increasingly dubious balance as the music continued to fill the room. He'd downed his own fair share of the gold liquid, but sadly it didn't have the same effect on his mental state as the rest of the bodies stumbling around foolishly. He sighed in annoyance as yet another whore tripped into his lap, pushing her up and on her way before she made an even bigger fool of herself.
"Sebastian, you should really be out on the floor." His mother's voice drifted to him, and he looked up at her through his dark mask of a raven, his crimson eyes flashing subtly as he sighed yet again.
His mother was dressed in a long gown of dark lavender with a white apron on top. If not for the crown nestled in her locks, she could be mistaken as simply another servant of the palace. His father was beside her in a coordinated ensemble of his own: a dark tail coat over a dark purple vest, his white dress shirt almost glowing in the dark room and the cameo on his cravat glinting. And again, if not for his crown – and his distinctive hairstyle and eyes – he could be mistaken for a mere butler. Neither of them were wearing masks.
Huffing, Sebastian stood, the tails of his own coat swishing against him as he moved away from his parents. Standing a couple feet away from his chair, he glared back at them. "There, now I'm on the floor," he grumbled sarcastically.
His father glared steadily back. "I believe she meant interacting on the floor, Sebastian," he said after a moment. "You're not going to meet anyone standing in a corner."
"And as I've said, I don't want to meet anyone," he sighed, exasperated.
His mother stepped over to him. "At least wander around," she pleaded, cupping his face. "Who knows? Perhaps some lady will catch your fancy, at least for a moment." She backed away and grabbed her husband's arm. "This is for you, after all. Go meet people." They wandered away, leaving Sebastian to himself once again.
Sighing dejectedly, Sebastian stared making his way through the throngs of people, at least to appease his parents and avoid any more whores in his lap. He looked around, trying to see anything of interest in the people who had decided to attend. A good majority could bare stand on their feet on the own, and every person seemed to be hanging off of another. Laughter filled his ears and he rubbed his temples, attempting to get rid of the headache before it started.
No such luck.
He made his way around the perimeter of the Ballroom, observing the idiocy that was his people on alcohol. I think I'm glad I'm not affected that way, he thought to himself, leering at a couple that ended up on the floor in a fit of giggles as the lady's partner had spun her too much. Though, it's not as if they'll remember the embarrassment. He continued around, deciding that fresh air was something he really wanted and heading for the open window doors to the gardens. The thought of quieting the din in his head and breathing in air not permeated with alcohol was welcome, and he hurried through a group of young lords and ladies, not bothering to catch those who tripped over him. As he reached the windows, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Sitting on one of the benches was the most interesting person he'd seen all night, arguably in his entire life.
The lady was seated turned slightly away from him, her pink dress and dark bows flared around her slim waist delicately as she stared at the sky with a bored expression. The area around her person was void of any champagne flutes, leading him to believe she was most likely the only other sober attendee besides himself, which meant he could very likely hold an actual conversation with her without her falling all over him, giggling annoyingly. Her pink lips were turned down in a frown, and dark, slate-colored hair fell over her shoulders, framing her pale face. The one eye he could see through her mask shone a brilliant sapphire, a deep blue he'd never seen before.
She was enchanting.
He neared her slowly, not wanting to get too close to the beauty that sat leaning against the railing, one foot kicked up over the other. She rested her face in a gloved palm and sighed. Hovering in the shadows beside her, he inhaled slowly, her scent wafting towards him and clearing his mind with the freshness of her essence. She smelled of rain and roses, of vanilla and cocoa. She was mouthwatering and refreshing. Then a scent hit him that had him furrowing his brow in confusion.
Faint traces of testosterone.
He was stumped. He inhaled once again, picking up the same traces. It wasn't prominent enough to be overwhelming, but it was there. She smelled like a he – particularly a he when aroused. Sebastian looked at the lady again, noticing this time that she was rather flat-chested, and that the angle of her soft jaw still had an edge to it, if one looked closely. That paused him. Could this lady be a lord? he wondered, staring at the being on the bench.
After a moment of contemplation, the being turned away further and sighed into the night, closing that beautiful sapphire eye. Out of nowhere, Sebastian felt his left hand begin to tingle and burn. At the same time, the being on the bench shifted uncomfortably, her right hand shooting up to rub under her mask around her eye. He saw teeth grit and heard a sharp intake of breath.
Thinking that was as good an invitation as any, Sebastian quietly approached. Going along with the attire, he stopped by the bench. "My lady, are you alright?" he inquired, genuinely intrigued by the enigma that sat before him. He raised an eyebrow.
The head shot up and he found himself wishing he could see more of the creamy white skin of the face and how big the sapphire orb truly was. "I-I'm fine," the voice stammered, obviously caught off guard. "Just a slight headache."
The voice was soothing and melodic, but not quite as high as Sebastian had expected. Instead of a pitchy soprano or alto, he heard a mild tenor, making him think that perhaps it really was a young lord sitting in front of him in drag.
Sebastian smiled faintly, amused at the being before him. "I was simply making sure," he said softly, sitting beside the enigma. "I too came out here to abate the headache from all the simpletons embarrassing themselves with the alcohol."
A very unladylike snort came from the enigma. "Well, I can't disagree with that assessment," the voice muttered, the blue eye rolling.
Sebastian smiled wider, resting his head in a palm of his own and staring at the enigma. After a moment, a dark slate eyebrow rose from above the mask.
"Do I have something on my face?"
Sebastian chuckled. "Besides the mask?" he asked sarcastically. "No. I just find you interesting."
A huff. "Great," the enigma muttered. "Another creep." Arms were crossed, but Sebastian noticed a faint red hue spreading across cheeks. After another moment the enigma muttered, "Have a portrait made; it'll last longer," and glared at him.
Sebastian chuckled. This one definitely has promise. He sighed, looking out into the gardens, taking in the quiet sounds of the night mixing with the aimless chattering of the guests. He rubbed his temples.
"For a ball in your honor, you don't seem to be enjoying yourself," the enigma ventured, seeming reluctant to start conversation, but tired of sitting in silence.
Sebastian cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? And how do you know it's for me?" he wondered.
Another snort. "Please. Even drunk the prince wouldn't be acting like the fools on the dance floor, and seeing as you're the only one out here not drunk off his ass.." the enigma trailed off, shrugging.
Sebastian smirked. "And here I thought it was my devilishly good looks and charm that gave me away," he muttered bemusedly. "Though I have to admit, you're the first person to know it's me and not throw yourself at my feet wanting to be in my good graces."
"Not everyone is a kiss-ass that pretends to give a rat's ass just to better their social standing," the enigma retorted, rolling the sapphire orb.
Sebastian truly smiled. "And for that, I thank you." He chuckled. "You wouldn't believe how tiring it is to have to deal with miscreants like that."
The enigma's gaze softened and fell far into the distance. "I can state with relative confidence that I know exactly how that feels."
The tone of the enigma's voice was such that Sebastian found himself believing that the being did indeed know exactly what it felt like to be called on just to be used. A warm feeling rose in his chest, and he wasn't sure what to call it.
He cocked his head to the side, contemplating on the conversation, and listened as another song began. He smiled and stood, an idea in his mind. He extended a gloved hand. "Would my lady care to dance?" he asked smirking.
Sebastian could've sworn the blue eye glared at him again. After a slight hesitation, a gloved hand slid into his. "Fine," the enigma muttered, allowing Sebastian to pull him – Sebastian decided that it was a him, for when the blush had risen so did the amount of testosterone he could detect – to his feet.
Sebastian placed his hand on the slender waist of the young lord, pulling him away from the bench and closer to the path to the gardens, gliding him around effortlessly as the waltz surged around them. Many other couples had paused in their merrymaking to join in the dance. Sebastian looked into the young face concealed by the mask, the blush still prominent and the plush lips set into a thin line of embarrassment. Dark slate covered the right side of his face, but Sebastian noticed a faint purple glow coming from the right eye.
Subconsciously, Sebastian guided them farther into the gardens, the music fading slowly into background noise as he found sapphire eyes staring into his own. Finally coming to a halt, he stared into the blue in a calm silence as he offered his arm and led them down a path through the garden, wandering slowly as he and the young lord came to stand before a small pond. Glancing around, Sebastian recognized the changing of the guard shifts, and an idea again embedded itself in his head. Grasping the young lord's hand tightly, he pulled him in the direction of the back garden gates with a softly murmured, "Come with me." With nothing more than a quick quirk of an eyebrow, Sebastian led the young lord to a darkened part of the gardens, holding a finger to his lips as he watched the guard on duty leave his post so the next shift could begin.
Knowing they were in the clear, Sebastian dragged the young lord through the thick arch of the hedge that surrounded the back half of the palace and encased the gardens, concealing the iron-wrought fence that protected the place from intruders. Swinging the gate open silently, Sebastian scanned with his senses quickly, determining that they were indeed alone, and hurried the young lord across the worn path of the guards' pacing to the thick trees of the forest bordering the back side of the palace.
Slowing his pace to something more relaxed, he gently pulled the young lord through the boughs, helping him over fallen branches and making sure the dress didn't snag on any wayward limbs. After a moment, they emerged in a small clearing, perfectly round with a small pond and a marble bench. Moonlight shone through the evergreens, lighting the space peacefully, and Sebastian watched with a small smile as the young lord glanced around in wonder. Along the perimeter of the clearing were marble statues encased in rose vines bearing the purest white roses that grew in the kingdom, and in between the statues were rose bushes towering well above them bearing the same roses.
"What is this place?" the young lord asked quietly, stepping further into the clearing to look at the roses.
Sebastian chuckled just as quietly. "It's a little place I found about three years ago," he said, wandering around and looking at the roses he loved to admire. "I'd been fed up and annoyed at one thing or another about my perfect life, and had run out in my tantrum. Instead of stopping in the garden like I normally would, I noticed the guards had left the gate for a moment, so I decided I wanted a bit of adventure." He smiled at the memory. "I just ran through the first part of the forest I came to, and it led me here. I added the bench after a couple months so I wouldn't have to sit on the ground, and the statues a few months after that to make it my own personal garden."
The young lord had seated himself on the bench, looking up at the moonlight and gently fiddled with what Sebastian could see was a locket choker of some sort. He quietly approached the young lord and sat beside him, feeling the newly ever-present tingle in the back of his hand increase slightly in intensity.
"I have to say, it's quite magnificently beautiful," the young lord said, looking down into the pond. "I used to spend many of my days in the gardens of our home with my parents, running around aimlessly through the shrubbery and ivy." He paused for a moment. "Our rose garden consisted of the deepest, most unusual blue ever seen."
Sebastian looked over. "Like the color of your eyes?"
The boy glanced up, just looking at him. "That's what they always said," he muttered after a moment, looking down into his lap.
Sebastian considered this for a moment. "You use the past tense with them; are they no longer with you?"
He watched the boy flinch and turn away. He instantly regretted asking. "No, they are no longer with me," the boy said coldly. The eye that Sebastian could see hardened and he observed the boy clenching his fists, one in his lap and the other around the locket.
Sebastian looked away. He thought for a moment before squaring his shoulders and looking back at the boy. "Having been raised with the insistence that family is one of the most important things we could ever have in this life, I offer my personal sincerest condolences for the loss of yours," he began softly. "Not the crown's, not the kingdom's, not because I'm obligated – my own and because I want to." He held up a gloved hand when the boy frowned and started to speak. "I do not pity you, nor do I feel sorry for you for any hardships that have befallen you, or the trials and tribulations life has thrown your way," he stated, gazing into the blue orb that was watching his own crimson through the raven's mask on his face. "I can tell you are long over their deaths, and have moved on in your life according to what you've been dealt. I could never pretend to imagine what your life is like, so I will not empathize; however." He took a deep breath, reaching for the boy's gloved hand and gently running his thumb over the back. "Know that if you wish to release the anger you so obviously feel about your current predicament, I will be happy to listen." He chuckled and smiled at the small hand in his own, gripping him tightly.
"Why?" the boy asked, and Sebastian looked back up at the slight frown on his lips, watching as a blush reddened the pale cheeks. "Why would you want to hear my story? You don't even know me!" The grip on his hand tightened. "I-I.." The boy took a breath. "Why?" he repeated.
Sebastian smiled at him. "Because I find you interesting," he said simply.
The young lord scoffed and looked down, not removing his hand from Sebastian's and continuing to run his fingers over his locket.
Sebastian's smile faded to just a bare upturn of his lips. "Was that from them?" he questioned, watching the boy stare off into space.
The boy nodded. "One half had belonged to my mother," he said, fingering with emphasis the top half, "and the other had been on my father." He fingered the bottom. "They gave them to me right before they passed."
Sebastian raised an eyebrow and decided to push his luck. "Did they die at different times?" he queried.
The boy looked back at him, regarding him for a moment. "Yes," he finally said, looking off into the distance. "Mother passed on my sixth birthday, and father on my twelfth. I was left with my whore of a step-mother and my despicable step-brothers."
Sebastian was quiet for a moment. "Best birthdays ever," he deadpanned.
The boy snorted. "Definitely," he agreed sarcastically.
Sebastian chuckled once again. "You are definitely the most interesting person I have ever met," he said, looking up at the moon, and they settled into a comfortable silence.
He glanced at the young lord out of the corner of his eye after a while, watching him stare out into the night contentedly. He carefully reached up his hand to brush against the dark bangs that hid the right eye of the lovely boy, and he felt the tingling and burning in his mark suddenly flare up. The boy also noticeably flinched at the same time.
Sebastian frowned. He wanted to know why that was happening. Without warning, he reached up and removed the boy's mask, eliciting a gasp and causing the boy to look at him. Going with the flow, he brushed the boy's bangs back, ignoring the flaring burn and looking into a glowing purple iris, a pentagram with very familiar demonic symbols enclosed in a circle etched into it.
The boy froze, and Sebastian ran a gloved finger along the bottom of the eye along the cheek which was reddening once again. Seeming to come back to his senses, the young lord quickly turned away and stood, backing up from Sebastian. Sebastian's finger trailed down his face and neck, catching on the locket choker and causing it to fall to the ground unnoticed. "I-I-I.." he stuttered, glancing around.
Sebastian stood slowly and started to follow the retreating boy, stopping when the clock tower in the distance started chiming out loud rings, signaling midnight.
The boy's eyes widened and he turned, dashing away before Sebastian could process what just happened. Realizing the boy was leaving him, he hurried after the young lord. "Wait!" he called, following the boy through the trees, an insignificant part of his brain surprised at how easily the boy could find his way back after heading in just once. He was also in luck; the guards where changing shifts again, and the boy rushed through the gate and back through the garden. Sebastian jogged after him, some part of his brain refusing to tap into his demon strength and overtake the boy, instead allowing the young lord to escape him. He sprinted back through the Ballroom, shoving through the crowd. "I didn't even get your name!"
The boy ignored him, rushing through the corridors and down the steps. Sebastian was almost gasping. "Please! I just want to know your name!"
The young lord looked back over his shoulder and called, "My name is Ciel!" before disappearing into a black carriage and taking off, leaving Sebastian standing on the steps to the palace staring after him.
Sebastian smiled faintly after a moment. "Ciel.." he murmured to himself. He straightened his shoulders and turned, heading back into the party. His smile turned devilish as he headed back through the gardens, past the guards into the forest where he'd been sitting with the boy. He looked down, seeing the choker and picking it up delicately, examining the crest on the front and the pictures of a happy family within. Figuring the locket was immensely important to the boy, he left it on the bench, knowing it would be safe there and that the boy would be back for it. "I think I may just need to see you again, my young lord," he said to himself.
Finally, he'd found the one with his mark.
. . .
Ciel flopped down onto his mattress, breathing heavily and trying to calm the emotions thundering through him. Breathe, Ciel, he told himself, just breathe. The prince had seen his mark! The prince! Ciel couldn't believe he'd frozen like that.
Ciel paused in his inner turmoil. I called the prince a creep. He buried his face in his threadbare pillow, groaning to himself. He really didn't think he could ever embarrass himself further. And what was worse: he was fretting over this like some lovesick teenage girl worried that her crush now thought she was mad.
Ciel couldn't understand the feelings boiling inside him. He felt a connection to the gorgeous man that he couldn't explain. Right before he'd met the guy, his eye had tingled and a burning sensation had crept into it. While he was dancing, the burn had gone and just a faint amount of tingling was present, hardly enough to notice. However, when the prince had caressed his face, the burn was so sudden it hurt worse. Though, the burn had faded when the prince had taken off his mask and just stared in wonder at his eye, softly stroking his reddened cheek.
Ciel blushed yet again, thinking of the fire that had coiled in him when looking into those merlot eyes. He couldn't figure out the attraction. He was a bit surprised when the prince had gazed in wonder at his eye instead of backing away in disgust or hatred, calling him Unholy and whatnot, and the fire had burned a bit hotter.
He was also mortified that he'd actually given the prince his name. His actual name. He hadn't really been thinking, but he also unconsciously knew he wanted the prince to know him. The real him, not the young lady that had attended the ball.
The prince had been interesting, if Ciel had to give him a term. He hadn't reeked of the champagne all the other guests had been drown in when they'd first met, and was the first sober man who'd approached him. He felt extremely at ease and uncomfortable at the same time in the man's presence, and they'd actually managed to hold two decent conversations. He was surprised at himself for divulging the information on his family – Ciel normally didn't even think to himself about his parents' deaths. But he'd needed someone to listen to him, someone who at least pretended to care that what happened was a tragedy, and not a means to gain. The prince had even offered condolences and made it clear that he didn't pity Ciel for the tragedy, for which Ciel had been grateful. Ciel had moved on, like the prince had surmised, and didn't find any point in lingering in the past.
Ciel reached up around his neck, intending to absentmindedly rub at the locket like he'd made a habit of, but all his fingers felt was smooth skin. His eyes widened and he looked around frantically in the dim room, hoping that he'd taken it off when he kicked out of the knee-high black boots, which were the only part of the ensemble that he'd gotten to keep, but it wasn't on his nightstand. Taking more deep breaths, Ciel forced himself to think of when he could've lost it. His eyes widened after a moment of thought.
Right as I was backing away. He recalled the prince's finger on his cheek trailing down his throat as he backed away, and figured the locket got caught on his finger. He faintly remembered a small tug on his neck, but next to the burn of his marked eye and the fear that the prince knew he was Unholy, he hadn't given it any notice.
Groaning to himself, Ciel once again flopped face first into his threadbare pillow. After he allowed two tears of frustration to escape his heterochromatic eyes, he pushed himself up and laced the boots back on his feet. He remembered clearly where the little clearing of the forest was – it was simply a matter of getting past the guards. Ciel sat for a moment, thinking about how to go about getting to the clearing. His mansion wasn't far from the palace, and the forest behind was not off-limits to the common and noble folk of the kingdom. Ciel could simply walk around the palace.
Oh, joy, he thought to himself as he quickly buttoned up a ragged shirt and threw on a faded brown vest over it. He glanced at himself in the mirror, taking in the worn button-up, the faded vest, and the trousers that ended just as the boots began at his knees. He looked like the commoner he felt like.
Foregoing the eye patch, Ciel quickly slipped through his door and down the servants' corridor to the back exit to his own gardens. Smiling briefly at the roses that were always kept in immaculate condition, Ciel headed towards the back fence and slipped through the iron gate, thankful that it allowed him to immediately tread forward towards the palace.
The walk was quiet and uneventful as Ciel made his way down the back roads of the town, and about a quarter of an hour later he emerged through a thick set of evergreens behind a noble house to see the wall of the palace. Sighing and resigned, Ciel began the tiresome trek around the grand palace wall. He stayed to the shadows of the trees, watching the guards slowly meander back and forth on their designated paths with bored stances. It had been several decades since someone had been idiotic enough to attempt a break-in of the palace, and when the current King had come to power, his intimidating demeanor and gentle yet firm treatment of his kingdom all but rendered the guards unnecessary. They were really just for show.
After another ten minutes, Ciel had finally reached the side of the palace that faced the forest. Locating the arch of hedge that was right across the barely noticeable entrance to the clearing. He stayed slightly within the confines of the forest, creeping slowly along as he watched the guards to make sure they weren't looking into the forest for spies from neighboring kingdoms. Occasionally, the others would feel superior and send a troop of people to infiltrate with the goal of killing one of the royal family, or perhaps taking hostages, but they never returned. Not because they were dead, but because they were offered a better life. And they weren't stupid enough to go against His Highness.
Ciel finally made it to the section of forest right across from the entrance to the gardens and, seeing the guard walking off, quickly slipped into the dense growth, heading straight into the dark evergreens. Dodging stumps and boughs, Ciel emerged a moment later in the still moonlit clearing, breathing in the aroma of the white roses, smiling to himself. Roses were his favorite flower, particularly white ones. Though his family never had any, his mother had brought a bouquet with three of them home one time, and Ciel got to keep one in a vase in his room until it wilted. He'd managed to keep it for an entire month. He was quite proud.
Glancing at the bench he and the prince had occupied, he walked over slowly, a soft breeze blowing through his slate locks. He looked down at the locket, placed carefully on the bench, the dark velvet ribbon splayed out on each side of the trinket, the silver glinting in the ivory moonlight. He cocked his head to the side. He knew I'd be back, he thought absently to himself as he ran his fingers over the smooth metal and ribbon.
Picking it up delicately, Ciel held the trinket between his fingers, examining the crest of the Phantomhive family engraved in the silver. As he stared at the crest, he felt arms wrap around his waist and a chin rest on his right shoulder, dark hair filling his peripheral vision as he glanced over calmly.
"You are definitely the most interesting person I have ever met, my young lord."
Ciel arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"
He could hear the smirk on the prince's face. "Definitely. I don't know many lords that will cross-dress just to see me."
Ciel rolled his eyes, leaning back into the prince's chest. "Full of yourself much?" he quipped. "Who says I was there to see you?" He huffed.
The prince pulled him over to the bench, sitting Ciel in his lap. "The ball was in my honor," he replied with a bright smile. "Anyone who attended was automatically there because they wanted to see me."
Ciel rolled his eyes again, hooking his locket back around his neck. "Sure. Whatever you say."
The prince chuckled. "But that's not the only reason I find you interesting, Ciel," he continued, starting to rub soothing circles on Ciel's back. The smile never faded.
Ciel gave him a look, and then watched as the prince removed the glove on his left hand. Eyes widening to the size of saucers, Ciel stared at the mark on the pale hand, shimmering faintly in the moonlight. Cautiously, he reached out and traced the pentagram with his index finger, softly caressing the smooth skin. "You have it, too," he mumbled, furrowing his brow. "What is it?"
"This is my mark," he replied, resting his chin on Ciel's shoulder. "I'm a demon."
Ciel nodded in agreement. "Yes, you are." He snorted. "Why did you mark me?" Ciel looked back at the prince, making his glowing eye obvious.
The prince chuckled. "I didn't," he answered, before pausing. "At least, not consciously. I didn't have this when I was first born; it appeared the week before my third birthday."
Ciel regarded him for a moment. "How old are you currently?"
"I'm turning twenty-one on December twenty-first."
Ciel looked back at the mark on the prince's hand. "I'm turning eighteen on December fourteenth. Guess that explains why it suddenly appeared for you." He frowned again. "But why do we have it?"
The prince shrugged. "From what I was able to find on it, a mark hasn't been seen for about a thousand years, since the first king. It simply means that we're bound together. Soul mates, if you will."
Ciel sat for a moment, quietly absorbing what the prince had said. Soul mates? I'm bound to a demon? Why does that not surprise me? A question flitted through his mind, vying for attention. Ciel turned to the prince. "What's your name?"
The prince blinked. "Sebastian. Why?"
Ciel shrugged. "If we're gonna be spending our lives together, I'll need something to call you. Unless you prefer 'hey you' or something."
Sebastian chuckled. "Why am I not surprised that this doesn't bother you?"
Ciel deadpanned. "I find questioning the supernatural occurrences in life to be quite pointless."
Sebastian chuckled again. "So you're okay with the fact that you're supposedly going to spend the rest of your life with someone you basically just met?"
Ciel looked Sebastian in the eye and just gazed for a moment into crimson orbs. "There's something about you," he finally said. "And I don't just mean the fact that you're a demon." He paused, looking up at the night sky. "Perhaps it's because of this bond or whatever, but.." he trailed off, not exactly sure what he was attempting to say. Grudgingly, he had to admit that he liked Sebastian's presence; he made him feel calm and safe and wanted. Ciel hadn't felt wanted since his father passed away.
Sebastian shifted to position Ciel in his lap more comfortably, Ciel tucking his head in the crook of Sebastian's pale neck. They sat in silence for a while, simply staring off into the night sky, watching the stars twinkle in the endless expanse of midnight blue. A slight breeze came through every now and then, rustling the trees and caressing against their faces. Sebastian continued to rub circles in Ciel's back, massaging up and down. Ciel found himself slowly being lulled to sleep, though not quite able to succumb completely, the cool air and knowledge that he'd have to return home keeping him alert even though he'd closed his eyes and snuggled into the warm chest of the prince.
"Can I see you tomorrow night?" Ciel asked quietly, breaking the peaceful silence between them. He didn't move from his position or open his eyes, content to remain where he was for as long as possible.
He felt Sebastian's chest rumble. "Of course, Ciel," he replied, tightening his arms around the boy. "Come to this spot whenever you wish; it is now as much yours as it is mine."
Ciel nodded, sighing before pushing himself up and off of Sebastian's lap and out of the prince's embrace. He gazed at Sebastian, staring into merlot orbs that shined with a certain intrigue and adoration and passionate desire that he'd never seen before. He felt his face warm slightly as a soft smile spread on Sebastian's lips, and he had to fight the urge to lean over and kiss them. He'd just met Sebastian, and though he wasn't going to deny the attraction he felt towards the demon prince, he wasn't going to rush himself into something overly romantic at the moment. Ciel wanted to get to know Sebastian a bit before completely giving himself to seemingly irrational desires.
After a short moment, Ciel looked away and played with the frayed hem of his sleeve, frowning at the grass and internally berating himself for his stupid emotions and inability to keep them off his face. He felt more than saw Sebastian stand up, sarcastically cursing himself for being so comfortable in the demon's presence and not even pushing away from Sebastian's embrace.
Ciel felt Sebastian's fingers caress his jaw before his face was gently pushed to face the prince. Sebastian's smile was still in place, and Ciel closed his eyes as Sebastian leaned forward and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his forehead.
"Be safe on your way home," Sebastian murmured against him, "and I'll be waiting for you tomorrow." He pulled back and looked at Ciel.
Ciel nodded, giving the slightest upturn of his lips as a smile before turning and running off, slipping past the guards on watch and listening to the clock tower in the distance chime the lateness of the night as he made his way back home, eventually kicking his shoes off haphazardly while simultaneously collapsing on the worn bed and falling into a peaceful dream where he found himself in a small clearing in a forest, encased in the arms of a tall, warm body and looking into eyes the color of garnets.
. . .
The next month and a half that passed was, for both Ciel and Sebastian, the happiest month and a half either of them had ever witnessed.
Sebastian never stopped smiling. Everywhere he went, his lips were always upturned, if even just slightly, and his sarcastic attitude lessened. He was still just as antisocial as he always was, but there was less glaring and more thoughtful see-through-ing. He even caught himself humming under his breath more than he'd like to admit. Ciel was always on his mind – his soft, dark charcoal-blue hair, his big, gentle, heterochromatic eyes of sapphire and glowing violet, his silky snow-white skin. Sebastian was proud to admit he was absolutely in love with the young lord he'd met at the ball.
His parents also noticed the subtle shift in his personality and the gentle smile he wore like a charm. His mother was overjoyed that her son had apparently found someone that made him happy, and she could barely contain her want to meet the – she thought – lady that had captured her son's heart. His father, too, was happy that he wouldn't be forcing Sebastian into a life of contempt towards his parents by picking a lady he wouldn't like. He'd had to agree that most of the ladies that had met Sebastian were little more than cheap whores, and he was pleased that Sebastian had met someone he deemed worthy. Of course, his stoic demeanor never hinted at any of his inner feelings, but he was indeed happy nonetheless.
Though he didn't smile, Ciel was also extremely content. His usual scowl had lessened into a more neutral expression, not quite giving away his feelings of happiness. And he was – utterly, indescribably happy. He performed his chores with more vigor, tuning out his step-family's rants, taunts, and bullying towards him with daydreams of Sebastian: raven-black hair that framed a pale, angled face; deep crimson eyes that shone like rubies; a gentle baritone voice that ran over his senses like velvet when it chuckled.
Fortunately, Ciel's family never saw a shift in personality, or suspected Ciel of anything more than the expected distaste he had always harbored for them. Or, if they did, they never bothered to mention anything about it. Ciel continued his normal routine day after day, and all was right. The only people who knew for certain of his improved mood were Mey-Rin, Finny, Bard and Tanaka, and they were all happy for him having Sebastian in his life.
Every night, Ciel would sneak out of the house and make his way to the clearing that had become his and Sebastian's sanctuary. He'd arrive and immediately make his way to the bench and seat himself next to Sebastian, curling up into the demon's side. Sebastian always liked hearing what Ciel had been up to, even if it was the same thing every time, so he'd usually ask Ciel about his day. Occasionally, Ciel would rant about a particularly difficult time Grell or William gave him, or he'd sarcastically recount a conversation that was supposed to have sounded nice because guests were present. He and Sebastian would constantly make fun of Ciel's step-brothers, for Sebastian had had the misfortune of meeting them about a week after meeting Ciel, and agreed with Ciel about their personalities.
Most of the time, however, Ciel would glide into the clearing silently with an exhausted expression on his face, situate himself on Sebastian's lap, and promptly fall asleep for the couple of hours they were together. Sebastian would hold him tightly and watch the stars while he rubbed Ciel's back and hummed quietly. Because of the holiday season, Ciel would be worked twice as hard to keep things in order for the influx of guests that Madame Red would have over, and had been put in charge of creating new menus for lunches and dinners as the holiday for giving thanks grew closer. On the actual day, Ciel had been dragged out of bed even earlier than usual to help personally attend to all the people staying over. That night, he'd stumbled his way to Sebastian, let fly some choice curses about the holidays, and passed out as soon as Sebastian had embraced him.
Ciel found himself grateful for the bond between him and Sebastian.
. . .
Ciel huffed, wiping his brow, dropping the wet rags back into the bucket of now-murky suds. That was the third round of scrubbing the floors of the regurgitated alcohol from Madame Red's guests he'd been forced to endure. Stupid drunk bastards.
He clambered to his aching feet, grabbing the bucket and dragging himself to the kitchen and through the back door, tossing the water out into the mud. Sighing exhaustedly, he put the supplies away and trudged along the hallways to check up on the guests one last time. He dragged a cart with several types of tea along with him, passing out late night desserts and calming aromas to help quiet the place down.
After making sure both of his step-brothers had locked themselves in their rooms, Ciel slipped out the back door and through the garden gate, silently making his way to the clearing. Sebastian was sitting on the bench, staring up at the stars with a smile on his face. When Ciel entered the little clearing, Sebastian turned his smile on Ciel and immediately opened his arms, welcoming Ciel into his spot on his lap.
"How was your day, my bocchan?" Sebastian asked, nuzzling Ciel's hair. Sebastian had taken to calling Ciel by the term of endearment that his servants used, claiming he "liked how it rolled off the tongue."
Ciel snorted. "I don't know enough curses to express how my day has been," he replied, crossing his arms and frowning. "I had to clean the floors three fucking times of half-digested turkey, ham and potatoes and strong alcoholic beverages. Three times. The entire manor!" Ciel fumed.
Sebastian chuckled empathetically. "Oh, bocchan, that sounds positively revolting."
Ciel threw him a look. "You think?" He sighed.
Sebastian rubbed his back. "So there was no upside to the day at all?" he asked softly.
Ciel thought for a moment before smirking slightly. "Not really, though I did see William spending all his time with a particular boy, the son of a lord a few towns over. Holed himself up in his room with the two-toned-haired flirt right before bed, too."
Sebastian snorted. "I didn't think he'd have that side in him. Do you know the boy's family name? Or what he looks like?"
"Knox, I think. Blond-black hair, boyish features, big green-yellow eyes with a pair of thick-rimmed black glasses. He's been around quite a bit over the last couple years, come to think of it." Ciel looked at Sebastian, whose eyebrows were raised. "You know him?"
Sebastian let a small laugh. "Little Ronnie? Yeah, his father often visits with mine for business, and when we were younger, he'd bring Ronnie over to play with me."
Ciel gazed at the demon. "You had playmates?" he asked skeptically. "I find that hard to believe."
"Of course I did," Sebastian said, sounding teasingly offended. "The Slingby family and the Humphries family were and are also close business partners of my father, and their sons Eric and Alan were good friends of mine and Ronnie's. I actually think Ronnie is a distant cousin of Eric's.." he trailed off, looking up at the sky.
"So, you guys were like the Three Musketeers and D'Artagnan or what?" Ciel asked with a snicker. He settled back against Sebastian's chest.
Sebastian chuckled. "More or less," he replied. "I still see them from time to time, though we're not quite as close as we used to be. I think Eric and Alan are a thing, and Ronnie apparently has William, and now I've got you. Besides, with having to marry and run a kingdom looming over my head in a couple weeks, I don't really blame them for not being around."
Ciel nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I guess that happens."
They were silent for a while before Sebastian piped up with a question. "Your birthday's in a couple days, isn't it?"
Ciel leaned his head back, looking up at the demon as he looked down, their noses brushing together. He pursed his lips in thought. "I suppose it is," he finally said, tilting his head back down. "I haven't celebrated it in six years. It's just a painful reminder anymore. I don't like remembering it."
Sebastian was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry," he muttered, resting his chin on Ciel's head. "I forgot about.." he trailed off, not having to say it aloud.
Ciel shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago. I'm over it."
Sebastian sighed. "Except that you're not." But he didn't push any further, and Ciel was glad the demon knew him so well.
They spent the rest of the night in silence, Ciel dozing off for a bit as the moon rose high in the sky. When the clock tower in the distance began striking the familiar hour, Sebastian woke Ciel and walked him to the edge of the clearing.
In the manor that had become tradition, Sebastian pressed a chaste kiss to Ciel's forehead before cupping his cheek. "Be safe on your way home," he said gently, giving a small smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Ciel gave a small smile back and grasped the hand on his cheek. "Always," he said, turning to walk away.
"Don't get caught," Sebastian joked, waving.
Ciel smirked. "Never do."
. . .
Except that he did, the night before his birthday.
Ciel had been quite careless. He had been anxious of the fact that his birthday was right upon him, and he had been off daydreaming of the demon more than usual. He had slopped through his chores, having to be told twice every time to do something by every member of his family. They all had taken some satisfaction that Ciel was not being as perfect as he usual, but they all thought it a bit suspicious. Ciel was always focused, and seeing him staring off into space and constantly glancing towards the gardens caught their notice.
Ciel had headed out the back gate every night like he normally did after a long day of chores, but this time, he had been followed. William had noticed Ciel slipping out of his room after he was supposed to be in bed and heading out to the gardens. Mildly curious as to why Ciel would be heading out in the middle of the night to tend to the weeds, William had dragged Ronald Knox – who had made himself a permanent living body within the household next to William – out behind Ciel, watching the young boy's movements from the shadows. Seeing him slip out the back gate and run off into the forest had sparked a bit more intrigue, and he had immediately told his brother and mother, who had thought it odd that Ciel would be sneaking out.
"Perhaps he has a lover," Ronnie had interjected absentmindedly, blushing when he'd realized what he'd said.
Madame Red had pondered on how Ciel could have possibly secured a lover, and reasoned that it must have been a guest that had stayed before at the manor. Ciel had recently been spacing out about something, so she deemed it possible that Ciel was in a relationship. However, being the controlling person she was, Madame Red didn't take kindly to the idea of Ciel breaking her rules. She would stop whatever was going on, and perhaps find out who Ciel was seeing in the middle of the night.
So the next day, Ciel's birthday, she watched as he absently moved through his routine, and noticed a small smile playing on the edges of this lips. That was definitely not something she'd been expecting, but it solidified the theory of a love affair. She left him alone throughout the day, not seeing a reason to bring it to his knowledge at the time that she knew anything.
That night, as Ciel was finishing up one of the halls, she had one of the servants lock the gate and gave William the key to hold on to. She would end whatever was going on.
. . .
Ciel rushed to his room after finishing his cleaning and dumping out the nasty water. He managed to secure the bath for himself that night, and quickly washed his dirty skin of the dirt that had accumulated over the week. Drying off hastily, he pulled on the cleanest pair of trousers he could find and the least worn shirt he had in his wardrobe. He donned a slightly frayed vest and ran his hand through his slate locks. Looking in the mirror, he deemed himself presentable and laced on the knee-high boots that he'd kept from the ensemble he'd worn at the ball. Leaving the eye patch on his bedside dresser, he quietly left his room and made his way out to the gardens.
Coming to the gate, he frowned when he noticed the lock. It was actually latched. Turning it over in his hands, he examined it with incredulity. The gate was never locked. Why is the gate locked? The answer was obvious as he heard the cold chuckles behind him.
Forcing back sudden tears, Ciel slowly turned to see Grell and William standing next to Madame Red, dangling a key in front of him. Ronnie was standing slightly behind them, a frown on his lips and uneasiness in his eyes.
"Going out, Ciel?" Madame Red asked sweetly, her voice dripping with sarcastic innocence. "And who's the lucky lady that has captured your attention?" She smirked. "Or perhaps it's a gentleman?"
Ciel just stood silently, face impassive and only showing the pure disgust he felt for the woman. Glancing over at William's bored expression and Grell examining his fingers like the lady he wished he were, he felt a sarcastic pity for them; he almost felt bad that the dark-haired boy and the eccentric redhead had her as a mother. Almost.
Staring into her eyes, Ciel stormed past her and her sons and the boyfriend, catching the apologetic expression thrown at him from Ronnie. He felt his anger recede slightly, knowing that Ronnie, at least, was truly sorry that he was even present. He'd listen to Sebastian go on and on about his childhood friends, and couldn't help but feel bad that Ronnie had to put up with Madame Red because he was with William.
Reaching his room, Ciel slammed the door and leaned against it, sliding to the floor and letting his head fall into his hands. The tears he'd kept from his step-mother were flowing down his cheeks in streams. Slumping against the door and floor, Ciel dropped his hands to his lap, staring through them as the hot rivulets dripped onto them.
He finally pulled himself off the floor and flung himself on the bed, burying his heated face in the threadbare pillow. Of all the days to get caught, it had to be tonight. It was his birthday, so he shouldn't have really been surprised. Nothing good ever happened on his birthday. Especially, it seemed, ones that were multiples of six. Ciel frowned. It fucking figured.
"Sebastian.." he muttered to himself. "I guess I won't be there tonight.. Sebastian.."
He felt a slight tingling in his marked eye, but brushed it off after a minute of nothing and curled up. "Sebastian.." he mumbled again, and the tingle happened again. Sitting up and frowning, Ciel looked into his mirror and was a bit surprised to see the mark glowing so brightly. It hadn't been dim, per se, but it had never really glowed. He repeated the demon's name, and watched in fascination as the glow got even brighter.
Acting on a sudden impulse, Ciel looked straight into his eye and called in the strongest voice he had, "Sebastian."
"I was wondering why you hadn't shown up," the familiar voice said in his ear as he felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist.
Ciel gasped softly in surprised happiness, immediately turning and burying his tear-streaked face into the demon's chest. "Se-Sebastian.." he muttered pathetically, stuttering in his emotions and berating himself mentally for his weakness, but not actually caring that he was now practically sobbing into the prince's shirt.
"Bocchan?" a voice called outside his door, a light knocking following. Ciel sniffled in response. "Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine," he muttered back, grasping the lapels of Sebastian's jacket tightly. "I'm okay."
The door slowly opened a crack and Mey-Rin's head peeked around the corner. Seeing tears shining on her young master's face, she immediately rushed in, unsurprised to find him in the arms of a tall, handsome man with crimson eyes. "Can I get you anything, bocchan?" she asked softly, stroking his hair alongside the man.
Ciel sniffed again and shook his head. "I'm fine, Mey-Rin," he answered, giving her a small smile. "Really."
She smiled widely, patting him on the head. "Very well, bocchan," she said, giving a slight bow. She turned to the man and bowed to him as well. "Your Majesty, thank you for being here for him." She turned on her heel and left the room with a quiet click of the door's lock turning from the outside.
Ciel and Sebastian sat quietly for a moment before curiosity killed the demon. "She seemed rather.. unsurprised to find the me in your room," he finally stated, looking down at the boy in his lap. He quirked an eyebrow.
Ciel chuckled softly. "She's one of my friends," he said sadly, nuzzling into the bigger chest. "Her, Finny, Bard and Tanaka all know about us," he whispered. "They've taken care of me since I was born, and have remained loyal even with my step-mother around. They're not ones to judge."
"They approve, then?"
"Of course."
"Do they know that I'm.."
"Yes."
Sebastian chuckled. "And this doesn't bother them?"
"Nope."
"Fair enough."
Ciel sat thoughtfully against Sebastian, relaxing to the circles being massaged in his back and the scent of cinnamon and vanilla that made up Sebastian's natural musk. It was quite an intoxicating aroma, and Ciel inhaled deeply, almost getting high off of it. It was an extremely inviting scent, one that screamed of calmness and passion to Ciel, and he suddenly found himself slightly aroused by it. Sebastian's hands had started caressing up and down his sides, and he felt his trousers tighten uncomfortably. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks and knew that Sebastian could sense the rise in his testosterone levels.
Sebastian slowly slid a hand up his arm, lightly trailing his fingers over his neck and jaw, and gently tilted his face up. Ciel tried to keep his eyes down, embarrassment flooding his expression, and he didn't really want to see the smirk that he knew was on the demon's face. But, after only a few seconds, he lifted his heterochromatic orbs to merlot ones, and was surprised to see the same lust that he was feeling reflected back in their depths. His blush increased in intensity, and his heartbeat grew rapid as his breaths came in short pants.
For a moment, everything was still as Ciel stared into Sebastian's eyes. He saw lust, passion, desire, comfort, adoration – and a burning emotion he was scared to put a name on. He stared at the rest of the demon's features, bringing a hand up to trace the line of his jaw, the upturn of the nose, and the curve of the lips as he committed them to memory. Over the month and a half that they'd been secretly meeting, Ciel's attraction towards the demon had grown significantly, and he found himself wanting to spend more and more time with him, preferably intimately.
Slowly, Sebastian leaned down and pressed his lips gently to Ciel's forehead, trailing them down the side of his face and ending at the corner of his mouth. "Happy birthday, Ciel," he whispered, ghosting his lips over Ciel's.
Ciel smiled timidly before leaning into the demon, pressing his mouth firmly against Sebastian's in his first kiss. It was simple, yet fiery. Passion burned through Ciel as he tilted his head, moving closer to Sebastian, eliminating any space between them and moving his lips in synchronization with the demon. His hands found their way into dark ebony locks, tangling in the silky soft strands and tugging playfully. He felt Sebastian run his tongue along his bottom lip and gently pull at it with his teeth, and he allowed Sebastian to deepen the kiss, parting his lips with a small gasp of pleasure as the demon's tongue coaxed his into a teasing battle for dominance.
When the need for air became too great to ignore, Ciel broke away gasping for breath while Sebastian trailed light kisses across his jaw and down his neck, nipping softly and eliciting a few embarrassing squeaks from the boy. Ciel's grip on Sebastian tightened as the demon bit and sucked on his collarbone, leaving faint red lovemarks on the pale ivory skin and causing Ciel's head to fall back with a small moan.
Ciel felt the demon's cool hands run down his sides teasingly slow, stopping to play at the hem of his shirt before just as teasingly slow trailing up again, this time inside the cloth and dragging it upward. His touches were gentle and passionate, and Ciel felt as if they were leaving trails of fire on him. Coming to his neck, Sebastian leaned back and let the shirt drop back down, gazing at the lovely boy in his lap for a moment before diving back down, kissing sweetly along the expanse of collarbone again and running long fingers over smooth sensitive skin and perk pink nipples under the slightly worn article of clothing.
Ciel was a writhing mess of gasps and moans in the demon's lap, thoroughly enjoying the pleasurable attention Sebastian was bestowing on his body. Wanting those tantalizing lips back on his, however, he tightened his grip in Sebastian's hair and tugged harshly, pulling his face back up from his chest and crushing their mouths together, moving his fiercely against the other's, suddenly wanting to convey all the feelings pent up inside and unable to be expressed any other way.
Sebastian didn't seem to mind, wrapping his long arms around Ciel's waist and holding the boy tightly. Ciel's hands loosened in his hair and trailed down his face and neck, sliding in under his shirt as far as the buttons would allow. Ciel gently traced over the demon's collarbone before dropping slightly to the buttons, playfully pulling at them suggestively. He'd managed to unbutton the first three before a larger hand gripped his firmly.
Ciel broke from the kiss and looked up at crimson eyes, a burning question and slight rejection flooding his sapphire orbs. Sebastian smiled gently and pressed a passionate burning kiss on the boy's full lips, answering without words and giving reassurance that he wanted Ciel; it just wasn't the right time.
Breaking from the kiss, Sebastian pressed his lips once more to Ciel's forehead, then one on the boy's closed marked eye, and finally one at the edge of the pink lips. He stood up and moved around Ciel, sitting back down on the bed against the wall and pulling the young lord into his lap, back against chest, encircling the slate-haired boy in a warm hug and tucking the bluish-grey hair under his chin.
They sat in silence like that for a while, each just enjoying the other's presence and the warmth that radiated between them. Sebastian gently stroked Ciel's hair and rubbed his back, while Ciel listened to the rhythmic breathing and beating of the demon's heart. They were content to spend the rest of the night that way. The peaceful silence was broken only twice as Sebastian shifted to hold a small object in front of Ciel.
"Will you marry me?"
Ciel stared long and hard at the glinting ring surrounded by dark red velvet in the small black box. The band was slim and silver, and the rectangular-cut Hope sapphire jewel was a deep blue that matched Ciel's unmarked eye. The rim of the sapphire was surrounded by delicately small rubies and amethysts in an alternating border. The moonlight shining in the room bounced off the small jewels, causing the amethysts to glow like his Unholy eye and the rubies to shine like Sebastian's crimson orbs.
Ever so cautiously, Ciel reached for the ring, sliding it out of the small box and examining it, turning it around in his small fingers. Figuring he'd stalled enough, Ciel slowly slipped it on his ring finger, smiling slightly at the perfect fit.
"Yes."
That night was the best birthday Ciel had celebrated since his parents were taken from him. And he knew they would stay that way for a long time to come.
. . .
Ciel stood in the center of the Great Hall, arms across his chest in a defensive yet self-preservative manner, glaring impassively at his soon-to-be father-in-law, who was shooting a glare right back at him. Ciel had to grudgingly admit, his glare was pretty impressive. His golden eyes, hidden behind thin shields of optics, held innumerable emotions that Ciel could not identify, though he was pretty sure disgust, hatred and even simple dislike were not among them.
But Ciel wasn't one to show his fear - or any other emotion, for that matter - outwardly, especially in front of those whose goal it was to intimidate him. And he hated to admit that Claude - pardon, His Highness- was doing a pretty damn good job of it.
Sweet Hannah was sitting next to Claude in her own throne, almost bouncing with what Ciel assumed to be some form of excitement over getting to meet her son's other half. Ciel wasn't going to pretend he understood any of the female race, but he was happy that she wasn't totally put off by the fact that, apparently, her son was attracted to men. Not that Claude seemed any more put off, but Ciel couldn't tell what the king was thinking, impassive, stoic brick wall that he was.
Throwing up the most confident façade he could manage under the scrutinizing gazes, Ciel opted for a bored sigh and rolling his weight to one foot, jutting a hip out and lolling his head to look over at Sebastian, who was beaming proudly from ear to ear.
Two days after Ciel's birthday, Sebastian had made a formal appearance at the manor, much to Madame Red's utter surprise. Having been the one to open the door, Sebastian had immediately smiled wider and brighter than Ciel had seen up to that point and gathered the boy up in his arms, placing tiny kisses along his jaw before promptly initiating a hot makeout session in front of his hostess, who could do nothing more than gape like a fish. Grell, William and Ronald had witnessed it as well, the redhead huffing and stomping his foot childishly before storming off, yelling something about how it wasn't fair for Ciel to get all the hot guys and William smirking before dragging a congratulating Ronnie off to his room. Ciel couldn't keep the smug look of triumph off his features when his step-mother had paled upon seeing the engagement ring resting on Ciel's hand and the boy tightly embraced from behind as Sebastian cheerily announced that Ciel was to become his eternal partner, simultaneously pulling off his glove and Ciel's eye patch and covering Ciel's good eye with his hand, displaying the matching marks.
Ciel had then spent the next four days as the earl he was born to be, filling out paperwork and officially removing Madame Red from the Phantomhive family. Feeling as generous as he had the ability to, Ciel signed the manor over to William, trusting the brunet to be able to handle a household efficiently and knowing it would happen. He had his and his parents' rooms emptied of all the Phantomhive belongings and moved into his quarters at the palace, getting an entire wing to himself, and then immediately approached his loyal servants, who all wholeheartedly agreed to come serve him in the palace so they could continue to watch over him.
And now, the day before the wedding, he was standing in front of the king and queen for the first time, dressed in a white button-down shirt, a black vest, matching dark sapphire blue coat and trouser shorts with a thick blue bow-like cravat around his neck, the black knee-high boots from the dress ensemble shined to perfection and a small black top hat with white roses decorating the rim resting lopsided on his slate locks. His Unholy eye was left uncovered, glowing a bright violet and signaling that any argument made against Sebastian wedding Ciel was invalid to the highest degree and simply was not going to matter.
"You could have at least told us you were bound!" Queen Hannah finally exploded, swiftly standing and rushing over to Ciel, embracing him tightly and squishing him into her heavily-endowed bosom.
Ciel heard Sebastian laugh and Claude snort as he struggled to breathe. He was released soon enough and gasped for air, just short of an asthma attack, and he felt long arms wrap around his waist. He leaned back into his demon prince, watching as Claude came to stand next to his wife.
Ciel felt Sebastian shrug against his back. "I was three when it appeared; I was too scared to say anything. I thought it meant something bad."
Claude adjusted his glasses with the tip of a gloved middle finger. "It's been too long for anyone to know what it means anymore," he mused. He gazed at Ciel for a moment before turning his mouth up in a small smile. "I'm glad it means Sebastian wasn't just procrastinating finding someone for the sake of putting off marriage." He looked at his son, who rolled his crimson eyes. "I was afraid we may have had to choose someone he'd resent us for choosing, though I have to say it is much nicer knowing he has someone of your status and not some cheap whore, as he liked to complain."
Ciel snorted, but the sound was less annoyed and offended than contentedly amused. "Thanks, I suppose. Nice to know I'm not some cheap whore." He smirked at the king, who returned the expression with a slightly conspiratorial look. He was going to get along well with His Highness.
The rest of the day went along smoothly and quietly. Ciel spent most of his time either being fitted for his wedding attire or in the gardens with Sebastian, wandering around or reading or simply just sitting and enjoying the view. Butterflies were fluttering around in his stomach, the anticipation of the next day - and ultimately the rest of his life - causing him a restless sort of peacefulness. He was quite content, but still on edge. When night fell, he and Sebastian made their way to their secret clearing, spending one last night on the bench under the moon as two separate people. Both unconsciously knew that the next time they visited, they'd be one with the other - in soul and in heart.
. . .
Ciel stood in front of his dressing room's full-length mirrors, watching silently as Mey-Rin helped him into his wedding outfit. Thankfully, even though he was filling the role of the bride, he wasn't being forced into a dress. The Undertaker had shown up early that morning out of nowhere, black robes billowing, hair in his scarred face and hat dragging behind him as he swung his scythe and produced a set of clothes that were more appropriate for a male.
Ciel's shirt was a simple plain white button-down, void of any frills or ruffles. His trousers were a blinding white set of knee-length shorts that ended right above his knee-caps, and he had on a dark blue waistcoat under his jacket.
His jacket was probably the most fancy thing he had on, a matching blinding white adorned with six glinting silver buttons, three of which were threaded through their partnering holes. His lapels were wide and trimmed in black, outlining where they were against the rest of the jacket. The cuffs were similarly lined, and the cufflinks matched his buttons. The front of the jacket came down to his hips, but the back draped lower, the tails brushing against the backs of his knees.
His hands were encased in black gloves and his cravat was a thin sapphire blue ribbon tied in a bow with his locket choker laying over the center knot. His black socks were held up with silver garters, and his black boots came up to just under his knees. On his slate hair sat a left-tilted black top hat, white and red roses surrounding a single blue one situated in a cluster on the left side, a blue velvet ribbon holding them securely in place. White lace hung over the edge to Ciel's chin, framing his unmarked eye. A black velvet eye patch was tied around his Unholy eye, standing in for the veil. Sebastian had insisted that he wanted to remove an eye patch instead of lifting a veil, because it had more meaning to them.
Finishing the last few touches, Mey-Rin stood back to admire her young lord. Ciel gazed into the mirror at the noble staring back at him, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the thought that he was the noble; he was engaged to the prince; he was only a little while away from tying himself forever to Sebastian. Gazing into the mirror, Ciel felt so God-damned mushy.
And he didn't care at all.
The chiming of the clock tower in the distance brought him out of his musings, and Mey-Rin squealed happily. "Bocchan!" she exclaimed excitedly. "It's almost time!"
The Undertaker, who had been shamelessly flirting with Grell - who had (unsurprisingly) agreed to be the "flower girl" for the wedding - in the corner of the room, looked over and smiled his creepy smile. "Definitely more suiting than a dress, Earl," he snickered. He tossed his head to the side, throwing his bangs out of his face slightly, and showed Ciel his pair of striking yellow-green eyes, ones that looked much like Grell's and William's - and even Ronald's, now that Ciel thought about it. The Undertaker winked and gave a more genuine smile before taking Grell's hand and leading him from the room, calling over his shoulder to Ciel to prepare himself.
Ciel blinked and took a deep breath, calming his excited anticipation and focusing his thoughts on the demon waiting for him in the extensively decorated Great Hall Ballroom. Ciel had seen it earlier, and he couldn't help the contentedly exasperated sigh that had escaped him at the time.
The room was simply dripping with white. Thick white satin curtains had replaced the normal dark ones on the windows and had been pulled back and tied with red and blue tassels, allowing the sunlight to shine off of them in the room, making it even brighter than normal. Garlands and streamers hung from the ceiling, with bouquets of white roses intermingled with a few reds and three blues each hung and secured to every possible surface of the room. Rows and rows of pews, benches and chairs had been set up, and a stage at the far end of the room with a giant iron arch laced with more garland, streamer and bouquets waited patiently for the ceremony to begin.
Ciel jumped slightly as bells chimed in the air, followed by soothing piano and cellos playing the soft melody Ciel had requested in place of the traditional wedding march. Ciel took another deep breath and stood in front of the ornate doors to the Great Hall. Tanaka stood dutifully by the doors, suit impeccably straight and monocle gleaming in the light, waiting for Ciel. He'd happily stepped in as Ciel's escort, since his father was not with them. Tanaka offered his arm, and Ciel grasped it tightly, taking one last deep breath to calm his nerves.
Walking down the aisle was a surreal experience for Ciel. The melody playing calmed the churning of his stomach, and Ciel breathed in the scent of the many roses that permeated the room, letting their gentle aroma wash over his senses. He glanced around, looking at the smiling faces of the guests, before his gaze fell on the figure standing tall in front of the arch.
Sebastian was dressed quite simply for a prince on his wedding day. His shirt was a crisp white, his waistcoat a deep burgundy that seemed to enhance the magenta pigment in his crimson eyes. His slacks were black with a matching tailcoat adorned with silver buttons, the lapels and cuffs lined in white, a sort of mirror to Ciel. His tie was red, his gloves were white, and his shoes were polished to a shine.
His ebony hair framed his face as always, and his lips were stretched in the most gentle smile Ciel had ever seen. His expression was one of the purest adoration and love, and Ciel felt his heart stutter slightly as Tanaka placed his hand in Sebastian's before stepping off to the side. Sebastian gripped his hand tightly, and they turned to the preacher who began the ceremony.
For Ciel, it all passed in a blur. He could register that the preacher was talking, but he couldn't hear what words were actually being said. He knew people were watching him, but he couldn't find the mind to care. All he really focused on were Sebastian's eyes. The red-wine orbs watched him in return, the love growing more intense as vows were said and rings were exchanged. Ciel had somehow managed to stutter out his "I do" at some point, and he felt his knees shake when Sebastian's own answer rang loud and clear.
As soon as they'd been presented as the new King and Queen, Sebastian cupped Ciel's face gently in his hand. The demon tilted his chin up, and Ciel could feel his deep blush flood his pale cheeks, warming his countenance. Sebastian looked deep into his midnight blue orbs and whispered the three words that would forever melt Ciel when spoken:
"I love you."
Sebastian leaned down and pressed his lips softly to Ciel's in a deep kiss, and Ciel barely registered the joyous eruption and applause from the guests as he lost himself in Sebastian, forgetting everything except the feel of his demon's lips on his. For the first time in six years, he had a genuine smile plastered on his face.
Ciel had never felt such happiness.
. . .
The moon was full and high as Ciel stared up at it, watching the stars twinkle in the dark indigo expanse of the midnight sky. The reception following the ceremony had finally dwindled to an end, all the guests stumbling drunk to their carriages as they gave their final congratulations to the newlywed couple. After the last families had dispersed, Ciel had wandered into the gardens of his new home, contentedly sighing and breathing in the cool night air deeply.
Warm arms encircled his waist from behind, the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla filling his nose and surrounding him. He leaned back automatically, one hand gripping the two around his hips and the other snaking up to thread into inky black hair.
"Are they all gone now?" he asked, leaning his head back to look up at his demon.
Sebastian chuckled. "Yes," he replied, placing a kiss on Ciel's lips. He glanced over to the gate and smiled. "Come on."
Sebastian took Ciel's hand and pulled him through the gardens much like he had on the night they'd met. It seemed they both could subconsciously tell when the guard shifts changed, and they never failed to escape to their secret clearing undetected. As they reached the gate leading out of the palace grounds, Sebastian picked Ciel up and settled the boy in his arms as he darted over to the forest, carrying him into the clearing.
As Sebastian went to set him on his feet, Ciel tightly wrapped his arms around his demon's neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss as he brought them to the soft ground beneath them.
. . .
Sighing contentedly, Ciel glanced up at Sebastian, locking dark sapphire with burning crimson.
"I love you."
Sebastian smiled wide, leaning up to kiss Ciel once more before tucking him closer and lulling his bocchan to sleep with their lullaby. There was only one more thing to say.
"I love you, too."
And as in any true fairy tale, they began their happily ever after.
Epilogue
Bright light cut into the grand room through the thick curtains, falling directly on the sleeping boy's face, causing him to stir. Ciel groaned and rolled over, attempting to block out the light and succumb to unconsciousness once again, but a churning in his stomach and a bout of nausea that he knew wasn't going to abate pleasantly had him throwing off the sheets and stumbling out of bed in haste and darting to the bathroom, collapsing none-too-gracefully in front of the toilet and hurling up whatever had managed to resist digesting from the night before.
Sebastian was there immediately, rubbing his back soothingly and holding his hair up from his sweating forehead. Ciel breathed deeply a couple of times, the nausea receding as quickly as it had flared. He leaned back into Sebastian and huffed.
"I'm getting real sick of being sick," he mumbled, letting Sebastian help him up and carry him back to the bed. "And it never even lasts!"
Sebastian sat down and situated Ciel on his lap, continuing his massaging. "It's been going on for a little over two months now," he mused, looking out the window. "Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?"
Ciel sighed. "For what? Morning sickness? Weird and unusual food cravings? Sleeping all day?" He snorted. "He'd just tell me I must be pregnant."
"That's because you are, Ciel."
The deep voice coming out of nowhere caused Ciel to yelp and Sebastian's arms to tighten around him. Both of them whipped their heads around, hair flying into their eyes, looking over at the lounge area in their bedroom. Occupying on of the plush chairs was a man neither had ever seen before.
The stranger had long legs clad in dark trousers of fine quality crossed in front of him, his dress shoes shining in the sunlight. His shirt was a dark amethyst silk, rolled up to his elbows and baring his pale arms. Dark chocolate locks framed his ivory face, waving down the sides of his face longer in the front and short in the back. Bright emerald eyes glinted warmly, and the full lips were spread in a wide smile.
Ciel stared for a moment, regarding the man before asking, "What do you mean?"
The man chuckled. "I mean what I said: you're pregnant, Ciel. About three months along now, in fact."
Ciel felt Sebastian's hands move to his abdomen before gasping softly. "He's right," Sebastian said in surprise. "I can sense another life in you."
Ciel frowned, turning from Sebastian to the stranger. "How did you know?" he demanded. "How is it even possible?" He paused. "Who are you?"
The man shifted in his seat. "I know because I was in Sebastian's place about a thousand years ago," he explained, propping his angled jaw on a fist. "My name is Lucifer."
Ciel stared, and Sebastian stiffened. "Like, the King of Hell, Lucifer? The first king of the kingdom? My great-to-who-knows-to-what-extent grandfather?"
Lucifer smirked. "Yes, Sebastian. I am indeed Lucifer, the King of Hell, first king of this kingdom and a very distant grandfather of yours."
Ciel looked between the demons. "I thought Satan was the King of Hell," he said offhandedly. "And you haven't answered how it's possible that I'm pregnant."
Lucifer glanced at Ciel. "He was the first," he said. "After about a thousand years, he got bored and chose an heir to replace him. That would have been Beelzebub. And a thousand years after him, I was chosen." He grinned. "We're all indeed different people."
"How did you get chosen?" Sebastian queried, wrapping his arms tighter and holding his Ciel close. "How did you know?"
Lucifer held up his left hand, and Ciel and Sebastian's eyes widened at the mark. "This," he said. "The next-born heir in line for the throne, at the time that the current King of Hell decides to pass on his throne, receives a mark as soon as a suitable mate is born for him," he explained. "Now, I'd decided a little over a couple of decades ago that I was going to pass on the throne, but by then Claude, your father, had already grown and found his mate. So, you were the one that was destined to take my place.
"It took almost three years for your mark to appear because that was when your mate was born." He smiled at Ciel. "You were the first and only worthy mate born that could bear a child and continue the line."
Ciel huffed and crossed his arms. "Yeah, explain that bit. I still don't get how I could possibly carry a child."
"You're a rare breed, Ciel," Lucifer mused, tapping his chin. "Every so often, a child is born intersexed, or as one gender with aspects of the other. Though you are most definitely male, you were born with a womb and a small amount of eggs capable of being fertilized." He paused, looking thoughtfully out of the windows. "Normally, it takes several tries and an insane amount of luck for an intersexed male to catch. It's actually an extremely rare occurrence, which is why it seems so impossible for you to be pregnant. Sebastian's sperm was even more potent, because he's a demon and your mate, so it's not really a surprise that you conceived after your first time."
Ciel blushed hearing Lucifer talk about him having sex with Sebastian, though technically the demon was his husband, and he huffed in embarrassment, turning his burning face into previously mentioned demon's chest. "Does it work like a normal pregnancy?" he asked quietly after a moment.
"Yes," Lucifer replied, standing and walking to the windows. "You'll just have to have a Caesarian section, because you lack a birth canal. Happened with my mate, too." He turned to face the couple on the bed. "When the child is grown and takes over this kingdom, you'll become the official ruler of Hell, Sebastian," he said. "I'll be back then to escort you there and make sure you settle in."
Sebastian pursed his lips in thought for a moment before speaking. "What about Ciel? If I'm to live for that long at least, what will happen to him?" He seemed to pale. "I don't think I could live without him."
Lucifer smiled gently. "And that's why he was chosen as your mate," he replied. "The royal family is not the only clan of demons around. Many have roamed through the area and mated with humans. Ciel was chosen because he's a descendant of one of those demons – some part of his blood, no matter how infinitesimal, is demon blood." He looked directly into Ciel's wide sapphire eyes.
"Whether you ever feel it or not, you've begun a sort of transformation into a full demon," he explained. "By your twenty-first birthday at the latest, you'll be immortal like Sebastian, and will be brought with him to rule in Hell as you are now."
Sebastian and Ciel sat and absorbed the information in a peaceful silence. It was weird to Ciel to think that he was a demon – even just a little part of his blood. But, he figured it made sense. Nothing was normal about him – why shouldn't he have some demon in him? He was happy, though, that he would get to stay with Sebastian.
Sebastian was simply ecstatic at the thought of getting to live forever with Ciel, though he'd apparently be spending quite a bit of it in Hell. He was quite glad that rule of the kingdom was passed down every twenty-one years and that the former King and Queen retired soon after – he wasn't sure he would have been able to hide the fact that he was immortal for very long. His parents would grow old and pass on, like his great-grandfather and great-grandmother had recently.
After a couple of moments, Sebastian had one question. "Why isn't there any information on this recorded somewhere?" he asked, frowning at Lucifer. "All I was able to find on, well you, I suppose, was that the mark simply meant I was bound to someone as soul mates. There's nothing that says that it's because I was picked as the next ruler of Hell as well."
Lucifer shrugged. "It only takes place every thousand years, and I was the first king. There hasn't been a chance for any information to be recorded, apart from the personal journal my mate kept. If you want, you can write it down somewhere and have it explained to all heirs as they come of age, just so the family knows and when you decide on having a new heir, he won't go through the same confusion you did. Either way, it does eventually get explained, as you'll have to come back and do what I'm doing now." He paused. "Though, I guess if it's explained as part of the coming-of-age, you'll only have to show up to escort them to Hell."
Sebastian nodded in agreement and Ciel, who had been listening attentively, felt and heard his stomach grumble insistently. His blush returned as Sebastian laughed and Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Guess that means it's time I take my leave and let you two get back to your lives for now," the demon king said, turning to the windows. He looked back once more. "I'll be back in approximately twenty-one years, then. Congratulations." And with a turn on his heel, he was gone.
Ciel immediately crawled out of Sebastian's lap and padded to the door, looking over his shoulder. "Come on," he demanded cheerily. "You're cooking for me today."
Sebastian raised his eyebrows in amusement before standing and following his mate. "Yes, my lord," he said sarcastically, heading out the door and down the hall behind the small boy, smiling widely.
. . .
Later that day, Sebastian and Ciel had announced the wondrous news and recounted the visit of Lucifer to Sebastian's parents and Ciel's servants, along with Eric and Alan, who were visiting with their fathers on business – though Sebastian had kept the information from their fathers –and Ronnie and William, who were visiting Ciel on matters pertaining to the business the former Earl Phantomhive used to do. William had plans to change many of the facets of the business, but he wanted to make sure his step-brother approved, since it was still in Ciel's power to take the business away from him.
The rest of the nine months went smoothly by all standards. Ciel's morning nausea continued, and his appetite for sweets increased drastically, though he'd only eat the sweets that he coerced Sebastian into making for him. He slept most of the days away, and when he was awake, he spent all his time lounging in the study reading or out in the gardens enjoying the fresh air.
Sebastian was the happily supportive husband, making sure Ciel was comfortable at all times. He never actually complained about having to learn to cook and bake – in fact, he found he quite enjoyed performing the actions and seeing the absolutely unadulterated contentment and euphoria on Ciel's face when he put a forkful of whatever chocolate cake Sebastian had created for him in his mouth. He somehow managed to efficiently run the kingdom simultaneously, making all the meetings and even going out into the towns for business and completing his goals all before dinner.
It was the night of September twenty-second when Ciel went into labor.
He'd been sitting in front of the grand fireplace in his study, reading through one of his favorite books, when he felt a crippling pain surge up in his abdomen. Immediately calling for Sebastian, who appeared not two seconds later, he was carried gently to their room and set carefully into the bed, Mey-Rin and the on-call doctor rushing in and ordering people around.
Three hours and countless curses and pools of tears later, Ciel was flushed and sweaty, Sebastian's hand was throbbing from Ciel's grip on it, and the soft musical cries of their child filled the room.
Their son had been quickly examined and deemed in perfect health before being passed into Ciel's arms, Sebastian hovering closely over his family.
The small baby boy was just as pale as his parents, with soft ivory skin like satin, the only real color being the faint red flush to his plump cheeks. His dark hair was quite thick for a newborn's, and was a deep indigo, almost black but with hints of dark purple-blue when the light hit it. His little lips were full and plush and pink, and his eyes were a striking hue of deep jade laced with silver. There was a slight unfocused quality to them, and Sebastian knew he'd be wearing spectacles later in life, as he'd seen the same quality in his father's own golden eyes.
The smile on Sebastian's face was mirrored on Ciel's, and they both looked at each other with love and adoration, towards each other and to their newborn.
"What are we going to name him?" Sebastian asked softly, settling on the bed next to Ciel and wrapping the slate-haired boy in his long arms, tucking the charcoal-blue locks under his chin and gazing down at his son.
The baby cooed happily, sensing both his parents' warmth surrounding him and snuggling into his mother's chest. Ciel bounced him gently, thinking of possible names that were worthy for his baby. Sebastian reached up and gave the baby one of his fingers to hold onto, chuckling at the happiness he saw in the jade-silver eyes.
"Adrian," Ciel finally decided, smiling warmly at the baby. "His name will be Adrian."
Sebastian grinned. "And one hell of a name it is, too." He stroked the baby boy's cheek gingerly. "Hello, Adrian. Welcome to the family."
Adrian cooed again softly, his jade-silver eyes blinking slowly and getting heavier. He stopped his squirming and finally fell asleep in his mother's arms, breathing steadily with a small smile of his own on his full lips.
Ciel sighed and leaned against his demon, tucking his head deeper into the crook of Sebastian's neck. "I honestly don't think I've ever been so happy before," he mused quietly, allowing Sebastian to shift him under the covers. He held Adrian for a moment longer before passing him to Sebastian to set in the crib that had been set next to their bed.
He watched Sebastian prepare himself for bed before crawling in next to Ciel and wrapping him in his arms. Sebastian placed kiss after sweet kiss on Ciel's forehead as the smaller boy nuzzled into him, wrapping his slender arms around his demon's waist.
Ciel leaned up and caught his demon's lips with his, initiating a passionate kiss that lasted none-too-long before they pulled apart, smiling like idiots and panting slightly. Ciel was pulled closer to Sebastian as his sapphire eyes drooped close and sleep prepared to overtake him.
"I love you, bocchan," Sebastian whispered in his ear. "Forever."
Ciel's wide smile faded to a content grin, all his happiness conveyed in the simple expression.
"I love you too, Sebastian. Forever."
END