Urgh...I haven't posted anything in ages. And now I've got three things going at once. -sighs- Oh well. What'cha gonna do, right?
So I know this is short, and it's not what I normally do, but I wanted to prove that I wasn't limited to just smut. That I could write something close to fluff. I know that Day Job and Haunted didn't have any smut or even relationships in them, but they were also short stories. This is going to be my first real attempt at a decent length story that focuses more on...fluff. And personal growth and development. Yes...character development. Also...there's a serious lack of Soma and Agni love out there. C'mon people! They're adorable! -coughs awkwardly- .........I'm done.
So yes! This is my second attempt at a Kuroshitsuji fic. I hope you enjoy~. I'll try to get more of it up as soon as possible.
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Alone. That's how he'd felt. He'd felt deserted and unwanted and abandoned. Even in his own home, he felt like a stranger, a ghost, a shadow on the wall. Perhaps that was what came with being the twenty-sixth child of the king of Bengal. He hardly took priority. He had too many siblings for that to be the case. Some days, he found himself wondering if they felt the way he did, if they wondered why they were there, if they wandered the halls searching for some kind of purpose. But then, he'd seen them at various times. They always found some way to occupy themselves, whether it was through lessons or silly games in the lavish gardens of the palace.
But he'd never found enjoyment in that. He was a creature of attention, thrived on having others dote on him, care for him, play with him. So, when Meena had been given to him, he'd been ecstatic. He clung to her, wanted to be with her every waking moment of the day. And she seemed happy enough to reciprocate that attention. She played with him, humored him, did what he wanted to do. She was with him at all times. She loved him. Or so he'd thought.
When Meena had been taken from him, he'd been outraged. He'd been furious. He blamed the Englishmen for it, blamed the men who were taking over his country. He vowed to get her back. So he sought help. He sought a man strong enough, worthy enough, to assist him in his endeavors. He'd found Agni, and once he had the older man with him, it was that much more certain, in his young mind, that Meena would be his once again. He and his newfound manservant had traveled to London, had gone without his father ever knowing. Absently, in the corners of his mind, the young prince knew that his father would never notice, even if they'd left in the middle of the day as opposed to under the cover of night. His father…barely even acknowledged his existence. And so he'd been free to fight to get Meena back, to take back what he'd lost and strive to find that affection he so desperately longed for.
However, in the end, Meena hadn't wanted him. She never had. She'd left him by choice. It had all been a lie. All of those moments, all of those sunny days of play and laughter had been false. She'd been forcing herself, afraid of his father's wrath. She'd hated him. All that love that he'd come to think was his own, all that affection he thought he'd finally found, was a lie. In that moment, as she'd all but spat in his face, ridiculing and admonishing him, mocking him, destroying him, he realized that he was lost. He had been all along. And every word that his reluctant hosts had said to him was true; he was nothing more than a spoiled brat.
He had realized then, that everything that had been said about him, all of Meena's bitter and mocking words, the butler's deriding reprimands…were true. And he realized, at the same time, that Agni - even in leaving him to work for the very Englishman they'd set out to stop - had been the only one who was there for him through it all. Even when they were apart, even when his manservant had been with West, Agni had been there for him, had been doing everything for the sake of the young prince. The man had been trying to protect him from the harsh reality of Meena's absence, had been trying to keep the mess a secret for the sake of the younger man's feelings. And so, after calmly accepting Meena's hatred and scorn, he asked for Agni's forgiveness, going to the one person who had always and would always be there for him and hoped to be taken back. At the same time, the young prince swore that he would become a greater man, that he would take the lessons learned of his own ignorance, his own selfishness, and grow from there.
Later, he had cried for hours, had sobbed over the loss of the woman who had meant so much to him. He'd cried until he didn't have the energy, drifting off into a fitful sleep on the couch he'd been sitting on. When he'd woken up, he was in bed, the covers tucked up around him, Agni seated in the chair next to the bed, hunched over and passed out, clearly having fallen asleep while watching over the prince. He felt a swelling in his heart, and any sadness that had been lingering dispelled in that moment. As long as he had Agni, as long as he had the older man with him, he was never alone.
Prince Soma Asman Gandal, the twenty-sixth son of the king of Bengal, would never be alone again. He would never want for attention, would never find himself cold and deserted. Never again would he feel like a shadow, a fleeting specter doomed to wander the halls, forever unnoticed. He had a companion now, a friend. And he would do everything in his power to earn the respect, the attention, the affection that Agni so willingly gave him. He wanted to become a person deserving of such loyalty. Only then would he feel that he'd truly become a man.
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To be continued...so don't think I'm done yet.
