Author's Note: Following on from my previous arc, Ciel is having trouble sleeping. Sebastian suggests a holiday in Cornwall to settle his melancholy. Eventually, the boy agrees. This is merely to set the scene. Expect mysteries to abound in later instalments. Enjoy.
Ciel and Sebastian: His Butler, At Leisure
Sebastian was a sleeping aficionado despite not requiring sleep to function. He did not dream as humans did, nor did he wish to. He was content in revel in the unending blackness that characterised his inner being for hours at a time. Sleep was a way to understand death since he had often been led to believe nothingness and the termination of life converged at some juncture. The demon had seen many of his former masters succumb to this terminal condition in his company, largely due to his own actions, but never yet confirmed death for a human meant nothing remained afterwards. The souls harvested were not proof of an ethereal life for humans. They were just proof of a fulfilled contract, a repayment of a loan, and a reason for him to continue on in the physical world. They did not represent the final product of human existence. That, at least to Sebastian, remained a mystery.
Tonight, Sebastian had slept for three hours, rising at one in the morning to begin household chores while peace and tranquillity were still intact within the manor's walls. He walked the corridors with a candelabra in hand, knowing already he would begin his duties in the kitchen. Once there, the butler stood before a vast cabinet filled from top to bottom with different blends of tea, organised by the alphabet and the continent of origin. Each tin of loose tea leaves had either one, two or three individual marks underneath its name. These corresponded to their status as awarded by the master's frank reviews. 'Passable', 'average' and 'not bad' were the three current grades the boy awarded his morning and afternoon teas, but nothing more. One mark indicated passable with three marks reaching the lofty heights of 'not bad'. The majority of teas were marked as average. Sebastian had provided his master with dozens of different tea blends over the years, whittling down a list of a thousand to one of less than sixty-five which he rotated through every six weeks.
This morning's tea, the demon decided, would not be another Darjeeling: the master was sick of Darjeeling. He could tell just by his soured expression that Darjeeling was beginning to bore the boy, even if he maintained it was 'passable'. He opted for the black leaf English Rose tea, a blend he knew had a calming effect on his master that few other beverages could replicate without copious amounts of sugar. Now settled with the morning's most important decision, Sebastian shifted his attentions to what to serve at breakfast. Thirty minutes later, after laboriously selecting spinach and cheddar omelette with an accompaniment of braised mushroom tips as the meal and the master's light green suit for today's attire, the demon left the rooms below stairs and ventured up to begin cleaning duties.
After cleaning and dusting through the majority of the ground floor, Sebastian entered the master's study. The master sat behind the desk, musing through business-related materials in nothing but his nightshirt. When their respective lights intercepted one another, bathing the whole room in the soft flicker of candlelight, the pair regarded one another in silence. The boy, Sebastian observed, was not wearing his patch. His pentagram glowed slightly, reminding the demon of the prize growing beyond measure within and why starvation was so noble a state for him to undertake in pursuit of one soul. He regarded his pocket watch. It was barely after three.
"I apologise for disturbing you, Young Master. I will close the door and knock for entry." The demon said turning on his heel.
"Don't bother. You'd only waste my time in doing so. I take it you've come to clean my study?" The boy said with his usual cruelty. Sebastian nodded without turning around.
"That's correct, Sir. But since you are working, I will return when it is more convenient."
"And I take it you've developed a sudden aversion to addressing your remarks to my face in the last minute?" The master responded with a tone that spoke slightly of something other than irritation or annoyance. The demon struggled to place it but turned back to face the boy before conducting a brief bow.
"I did not mean to be improper, Master. Your current state merely suggested you did not wish anyone to see you at this time. I did not wish to antagonise you." The boy leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes with a sigh.
"You aren't a person. You may walk and talk like one, but so can a string puppet." He said before opening his eyes and levelling them on the demon, "And I have the same lack of regard for either you or it seeing me like this." Sebastian knew if he were human, such a scathing remark would cause offence. As it was, he found the master's caustic remarks very witty and adopted an amused smile at the analogy.
"I am your Pinocchio, Master." He said with another bow. The boy smiled. He did not sneer or smirk. He smiled at his butler, a gesture Sebastian knew embodied his master's true affection for him since the boy rarely gifted anyone else with it.
"I like how cruel I can be to you, Sebastian. It stops me being so to others less deserving of scorn and derision. In any case, I'm not busy with work. I'm having trouble sleeping." The master said without false bravado or embarrassment. Sebastian liked how the boy could be honest with him and not spin an intricate web of lies as was commonplace with those in his secular world. The demon drew close.
"May I ask what you believe the cause of this trouble is?"
"I suppose the stress of recent months is beginning to follow me. After the circus and the elaborate parlour games played by Earl Grey and Master Phipps on the Queen's behalf, I feel unwell." The master admitted before shrugging. "Not physically though. My wounds are healed. It is my mind that is melancholic." Sebastian set his candelabra on the desktop.
"Such a mental ailment often proves more deadly than a physical disease. Perhaps it is time for a holiday, Master, to rid you of your melancholy and woe." The demon suggested as the boy planted an elbow on the table and rested his head upon it. Sebastian could see reluctance to accept such a suggestion. It was nothing new. Coaxing the master into revelry that served no ulterior purpose was almost an impossible feat.
"I doubt there is anywhere on this earth distant enough for Her Majesty and this realm's problems not to find me. I am anticipating another unwanted task any day now." The boy replied with a tired sigh. "Sometimes I think both my sovereign and my country must truly despise me to assign such unpleasantness so routinely."
"Considering her displeasure when dealing with Lord Winslow, I doubt she will be pulling you into the spotlight anytime soon. And I would wager neither her nor your country despise you, Sir. They merely have never encountered anyone else like you. Your abilities to eliminate this realm's problems, no matter their standing or difficulty, likely scare Her Majesty and her subjects, since you are so young and already so powerful in influence." Sebastian was incapable of lying, something he knew even the most pious of human beings could not claim. He was certain his master was aware of this unique trait as well. The boy regarded him in silence, studying him in the dancing light of the flames.
"Do you think I'm scary, Sebastian?"
"To an adult, especially one who is used to being generally superior in body and mind to a child, you present a terrifying prospect. After all, there was very few children in the world who wield the power and authority you command and even fewer who know exactly how to exploit it." The demon said only for his master to roll his eyes in displeasure.
"That is not an answer to my question. I did not ask about adults, I asked if you think I am scary. So?"
"And I answered, Young Master. I think you are frightening to others. However, I myself am not afraid of you. This is only because I am afraid of nothing in this world or any other. I think that I respect you should be enough, certainly where servitude is concerned." He watched the boy frown at his answer before dismissing the entire avenue of conversation with a hand gesture.
"Enough inflating my ego. Where would you have me go to holiday?"
"To Penzance and your cottage by the sea."
"Even though I told you of my desire to summer in Cambridge this year?"
"With all due respect, Sir, it is not summer yet. And both the sea and salt air will do you and your constitution some good. We do not need to go for long, a week or so at the most if you cannot tear yourself from your duties for an extended period of time. We might take your other servants as well. They would all enjoy a more tranquil and leisurely atmosphere for a time. Perhaps the only way their mood could be further improved by a week in Penzance is if they knew you were enjoying it too." Sebastian offered with a smile before reaching over and gently brushing through his master's hair with a feather-light touch. "I do so like to see you ruthless and bloodthirsty in your efforts, an attitude that can only be sustained so long before rest and recovery are required."
"What makes you think you can touch me in that manner and get away with it?" The boy snapped. The butler reached over again, this time settling his hand on his master's cheek and stroking the skin with his thumb.
"For the same reason my seeing you so improperly dressed is not an issue: because I am not a person, just your personal puppet. Since you control me, I cannot act in any way that truly displeases you. I can be familiar with you because you do not find it offensive. In fact, although you may always deny it, I believe you even like such attention from time to time." Sebastian said without removing his hand. The boy responded to this by placing his over the top of it, his family ring shimmering in the soft light surrounding them.
"That a demon understands me better than my fiancée is a source of never-ending embarrassment. You already know that I no more pull your strings than the Queen does mine. We are all somebody's puppets, Sebastian, someone's own personal Pinocchio. It is a sad but true fact that the only satisfaction humans have in life is the power to manipulate others for their own ends or amusement. I do not control you, Sebastian: you allow yourself to be controlled by me. I am grateful for the privilege." When the boy's thumb stroked his gloved hand, the demon knew he had taken enough liberties with the master for one night. He gently slipped his hand out from under the boy's and inclined his head.
"Shall I pack your belongings for Penzance, Sir?"
"Yes. Tell the others to pack as well. I wish to leave shortly after breakfast. If all goes to plan, we should arrive there by nightfall."
"Yes, My Lord. Might I suggest you return to bed for a few hours to ensure a good mood for this morning's meal?"
"You may suggest it," His master said standing up, "however, I am not totally void of common sense and was intending to return to bed in any case. Wake me when you have something other than Darjeeling to drink and toast points to serve." The boy added walking past him with his candle in hand. Sebastian's eyes followed his master's exit and then the faint glow of his candle as it illuminated the corridor before being swallowed by the blackness. The demon thought of his empty dreams and smiled. When he had taken the boy's soul, he would have his answers. With Ciel Phantomhive, he knew something would be left behind: the boy was too strong not to linger on in some form or another. Sebastian closed his eyes and nodded.
"Yes, My Lord."