Hey everyone! This is my first fanfic, so I hope it's ok. It does have some russian words in it so try not to be too confused... ^^" There's a translation at the bottom of the chapter that you can look at for translations if you need it! ^^

Thanks for reading!

BlackButler: FanFic

CH 1

Once upon a time in a soon-to-be communist regime far far away there existed a little frosty castle in a little frosty place, in a little frosty town, in a rather large frosty country. In this castle lived a beautiful little girl, and she had everything a young countess could want. Her wardrobe was stunning, her servants attentive, her meals decadent, and her doting father loved her dearly. Yes, Serafima Alkaev lived a blessed life, that is, until one late winter night a week before her fourteenth birthday...

The reflection of a roaring fire flickered across the window pane in the library, the outline of a wintery world outside barely visible through the foggy glass. Serafima sipped her imported english tea and balanced a book on her knees. She had dismissed her servants hours ago and had the room to herself, the resulting silence was penetrated only by the crackling of the fire and the rustle of turning pages. A candle flickered on a wall sconce, illuminating the hand painted wallpaper.

In europe, this room wouldn't be strange at all, but in Russia it certainly was. From the plush carpet to the leather arm chair the little girl was curled in, everything in the room was reminiscent of an English parlor. This european intrusion on a traditional Russian palace was of course the work of Serafima, who got whatever she wished with a single pleading blink of her amber eyes. She had been in love with England ever since her first trip there when she was nine years old, and the evidence of her fancy was scattered about the palace in the form of fine wall paper, beautiful teapots, and soft carpets. The library was her crown jewel, a perfect English study.

A knock on the door pulled Serafima out of her book, and she looked up, calling softly out.

"Come in."

The door creaked open and Serafima's father trumped into the study, flopping exhaustedly into the armchair opposite of his daughter.

"Dobriy vecher." Serafima greeted, smiling sweetly at the worn out looking man.

"Hello milaya moya." He responded with a tired smile.

Serafima lifted her eyes from the book to look at her father, he seemed unsettled. He had bags under his eyes, and his dark hair, usually neatly combed, was in disarray. In addition to this he hadn't removed his long fir coat, although it was very warm next to the fire, and he was holding his left arm as if it was hurt.

"Nána, is something wrong?" She asked, standing up and placing her book on the coffee table before crawling into the other chair next to her father.

Serafima's father looked down at her, his face thrown in shadow as it turned away from the fire. It was hard to tell, but Sera thought she saw sorrow in his amber eyes.

"Nothing is wrong ." He soothed, stroking her amazing long, wavy hair, "It's just that business was... erm... difficult... today." He let out a sigh and wrapped an arm around the little girl.

Sera hugged her father back, feeling safe in his strong arms.

"Sera," He said softly, still stroking her hair, "I was thinking you should go to England again..."

Sera looked up at him in confusion, " Nána, It's the middle of winter... shouldn't I wait for warm weather to travel?"

"You don't want to go?" he asked, seeming almost as if he was pushing his suggestion on her.

"No... I just thought it was strange." she said, looking down and twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"Good, so you'll go?" There was the tiniest hint of desperation under the calm surface of his voice.

"Uh... of course, Nána." Sera replied hesitantly, resting her head against her father's broad chest.

Her father leaned down and kissed her forehead, "Consider it an early birthday present. Now off to bed, you're leaving tomorrow, so you'll need a good night's sleep. priyatnyh snov." With this he wrapped his right arm around Sera's waist and stood up, lifting her with him and setting her gently on her bare feet.

"Priyatnyh snov, Nána." She said with a yawn.

He smiled at her, half of his face illuminated by the fire, the dim orange light matched the sadness on his face as he watched his daughter plod out of the room. As soon as the girl was gone Mr. Alkaev collapsed into a chair, clutching his arm to his chest. His heavy fur coat glistened in the dim light as it dropped with a soft thump onto the floor, revealing just how 'difficult' business that day had really been.

DICTIONARY:

Nána- Daddy, Dad

Priyatnyh snov- Sweet Dreams

Dobriy vecher- Good Evening

milaya moya- My Sweet

Again, Thanks for reading! Hopefully I'll have more up soon! ^^