You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking.
-"Blackberry Picking," by Seamus Heaney
The Sweetest Flesh
Contentment. That's the closest to what he found within this peaceful silence. Aside from the gentle rustle of his feather duster against the hundreds of unread tomes lining the mahogany shelves, there was no distant crash of rumble of impending chaos. Even the sunlight was gentle and unobtrusive, the sheer curtains tempering the vicious glare of summer sun so that soothingly lit the library and his young master's rather untedious game of chess.
In her desire to please her fiancé, Elizabeth had unselfishly volunteered to do something she knew Ciel would like. So now she sat his prisoner in person and on the board. Sebastian had to resist the urge to chuckle at her unladylike consternation, brows drawn together and lips tight as she stared down the board. It was as if she thought the game would divulge all its secrets with only a glare. Ciel, meanwhile, was the picture of apathy. His gaudy top hat had long ago shifted from its pins, slouching from the side of his head, and his cheek was sluggishly palmed by a propped up arm. Knowing his young master, he was drawing the game out, out of kindness. Ciel's azure gaze wandered outside and fixed somewhere in the distance as the young lady's face reddened with concentration.
With a gentle smile, Sebastian continued his leisurely dusting, plotting supper out in his mind. The stracciatella soup would be a perfect light predecessor to the beef wellington. Perhaps he could sauté some greens from the garden and prepare a light salad for the young mistress. It was a source of great consternation that the only way his Lord would eat anything green was if it was drenched in butter and garlic.
Suddenly, he was torn from his thoughts by a cry that called to mind tortured souls in hell.
"Ah, Ciel! I can't do this anymore!" Lizzie sobbed, throwing her lacey hands into the air with frustration. Ciel merely stared at her in a bemused fashion, unsure about what precisely was wrong with their arrangement.
"Perhaps, the lady would prefer to do something more ladylike?" He mused aloud and she turned her emerald eyes towards the windows.
"It's so pretty outside right now," she murmured regretfully. Ciel blanched at the prospect of any outdoor activity.
"Sebastian could play the piano if you like," he stuttered, sitting up a little straighter. Dusting the shelves lost their allure as the demon watched the drama unfolding before him. "Or perhaps we could turn on the radio?" He rose slightly from his chair, white-knuckled as the alternatives raced through his mind. Sebastian merely smirked from his vantage point.
"Remember when we were little, how Aunt Anne would take us to pick berries? Martha brought a bunch with her yesterday and they were so delicious with cold cream," she murmured. Ciel swallowed audibly and turned a desperate sapphire eye towards his butler. Sebastian's smirk grew teeth as he respectfully folded a free hand over his breast.
"Lady Elizabeth, if I may be so bold. Would you and the young lord be interested in a little excursion? I have heard that there's an ideal patch just back in the woods that's ready for picking," he said with a beaming smile. Elizabeth gasped in childish delight.
"Oh, Sebastian, that would be so wonderful! Ciel, can we? Can we go pick berries just like with Aunt Anne?" Ciel's pallor developed the blue tint of nausea at Sebastian's blatant betrayal. At times, he wondered if the butler was fond of Elizabeth for the suffering her enthusiasm brought Ciel, or because he knew her dreams of wedded bliss would never see fruition. The boy lord cleared his throat pointedly and rose from the game table.
"I don't see why not," he gritted as his demon beamed at him amiably. "Would you care to prepare the carriage and a lunch, Sebastian?" Another shrill of delight rippled down Sebastian's spine as Elizabeth sprung from the table.
"I have just the cutest hat to wear, too!" She rejoiced, nearly flying from the room in her eagerness. The dark haired man continued with his beatific expression and ambled from the room the make preparations, even as Ciel fixed him with a look that promised punishment. Sebastian allowed his tongue to wet his lips in anticipation.
With his standard amiable beam, Sebastian gently drove the carriage down the forest path. There had been much clamoring among the rest of the house staff once the plans had gotten their way and Elizabeth was more than overjoyed at the prospect of sharing the experience. Behind their carriage, Bard led Finny and MeyRin in a sulky, leaving Tanaka to sip tea and mind the estate. The trio jabbered away excitedly at the prospective treats they could make with their findings. If Bard could resist the temptation to char them to bits, that is.
Within their own coach, he was certain the Ciel was trapped in a similar, but more one-sided conversation, with Lady Elizabeth. Inspired by their excitement, Sebastian began revising his dessert plans for the evening. It had been awhile since something had been destroyed and he did try his best to reward good behavior. Elizabeth silenced his contemplation with a squeal of excitement as the carriage rocked to a stop in a quiet copse.
"Sebastian, it's so perfect!" She cried, as she slid a lace-gloved hand into the butler's owe, hiking her skirts to step from the box. Ciel had only just begun to emerge by the time the trio of house staff had barged across the field, baskets in hand to begin their harvest. Even in his simple attire, Ciel's pale skin had begun to bead sweat as he walked slowly to the tree line, discontent thinly veiled with polite swipes of his kerchief across his face.
MeyRin and Elizabeth beamed baskets held in lightly crooked arms, as they selected berries from the edges of the thicket, while Finnian and Bard waded in with no regard for their clothing or propriety. With the cicadas thrumming in the background, it was an unremarkably peaceful scene. Sebastian found it painfully boring.
"Are you not going to join your Lady, young Master?" The tall man prompted teasingly, watching as the boy hung back, tugging experimentally at an unripe fruit with two thin fingers.
"Elizabeth is perfectly happy without my attention, Sebastian. Do you not think I deserve a moment to myself?" The demon deftly maneuvered around the boy's sullen question with his standard pleasant charm as Ciel turned his attentions to a different fruit. This one overripe and it melted beneath his touch, dripping down his fingers.
"If the young master has no interest in play, might he prefer an impromptu lesson on the customs and myth associated with our current activity," he pressed with a grin as the Earl dutifully ignored his inquiry, casually licking the juice from newly stained fingers. "Is the young master familiar with the story behind Michaelmas Day?" An azure eye turned upon the tall man and fixed him with an impressively withering look.
"Do I look like a fool, Sebastian? Every child in England has been to a Michaelmas Fair. I remember watching those silly plays where St. George slays a dragon or some nonsense," Ciel mused as lavish dinners and parties past drifted through his mind.
"I did not mean to insult my little Lord's knowledge, but perhaps it is better known in the church as the day Archangel Michael threw the devil out of heaven," he crooned, bending neatly, to be more at the young man's level.
Ciel surveyed the field and tugged at yet another fruit before sliding it casually between his lips. Sebastian resisted a dark chuckle as the boy's face crinkled up at the unexpected bitterness. The hungry malice melted away into complacency once more as that big blue eye rolled to him.
"Pray tell, what does that have to do with blackberries?" He drawled, blinking sweat from his eyes and grimacing. With a snap, the butler produced the crisp, starched kerchief from his breast pocket. The boy took it sharply; skin prickling at total absence of sheen on the butler's own skin.
"Well, mythos tells that when the devil was finally forced from the heavenly plane, he had the misfortune to land in a thicket of blackberries," he clipped, his own gloved hand, reaching to taunt back at a tempting fruit. Ciel had only the slightest of hesitations as he dabbed his face dry and refolded the cloth into a tidy triangle. A short shout briefly distracted him, and he saw that Finnian and Bard had already found the nearby stream, playful splashes followed soon after.
"Seems a silly thing for a devil to do, to fall into a briar. Do you hate blackberries, Sebastian?"
"Quite the contrary, Young Master, they are a fascinating fruit," he smiled. "There is much folklore across Europe about them. They can represent death, sorrow, haste, and arrogance. Some cultures plant brambles on graves to protect the souls of those departed. Personally, I'm fond of the idea that the bramble was once a beautiful plant, tainted and twisted by Lucifer's rage when he fell," he mused, carefully plucking the berry and popping it into his mouth, white gloves unscathed. He made the softest moan as the flesh burst as he pressed it to the roof of his palette and tart juice flooded his mouth. Ciel watched in wonder as Sebastian seemed to be genuinely savoring the fruit.
"I thought demons don't taste things the same as humans," he queried cautiously.
"Ah, we don't, but these berries, when just under ripe, remind me of an especially bitter soul," he murmured, the beginnings of cruelty pulling at the corners of his mouth. At this proximity, Ciel thought he could see hints of hellfire in his slitted eyes. "Not unlike the, young master," he whispered. Something about the length of those canines made his heart skip just a few beats, and a lump form in his throat. "Though I suspect, you will be much, much, sweeter."
Ciel choked on that lump in his throat, attempting to swallow around it as the bloody color of the butler's eyes congealed. The boys eye began to dart like prey, until another cry from beyond the briar jerked his head back around and the butlers own rose slowly, chuckling softly.
"Ciel! Sebastian! Come over here! It's so lovely," came Elizabeth's warble and Bard's baritone laugh. A soft cough came from his Lord as he snapped open the kerchief once more, deftly swiping across his face. Smooth, composed, already recovered.
"You forget your place, Sebastian, but it would be rude to keep them waiting," he clipped, turning on his heel and taking off through the knee high brush awkwardly. Sebastian actually bit his lip with restraint as the boy paused to flail his hands wildly at the numerous summer insects that rose in his path. Soft expression of amusement remained on his face as he turned to release the horses from their burden. What an amusing briar patch he had fallen into this time.