The Strings of Fate

Chapter Three: Poetry?

By The YangSistaz

Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji aka Black Butler belongs to Yana Toboso. Her characters have been borrowed solely for the purpose of The Strings of Fate with no intentions of copyright infringement. Any similarity to other fanfictions is purely coincidental and no malicious actions are intended.

Author's Note: Any distribution of The Strings of Fate is prohibited without the author's permission. Thank you for your cooperation!


Knocking twice on Giselle's door, Lydia entered her sister's bedchamber to find the older woman lounging on her bed with the journal of their supposed great grandfather. She went to join her and Giselle scooted over to allow her room. Upon closer examination, Lydia saw Giselle had already read through a good amount of the journal. They sat like that in silence except for the sound of the crinkling papers when Giselle turned the page.

"What does he write about?" she asked.

"The earliest entry talks about how he was a servant for a noble family," Giselle answered as she shut the book and set it aside. "The following entries mention running away with another servant when he tried to protect her from their master. They were taken in by a different noble family and he was taught everything he needed to know. Apparently, the man was very successful in the trading industry. Later on, Great Grandfather actually became president of the British Branch of the Chinese trading company and—you won't believe it—but he was a friend of the Phantomhive family."

"As in the noble family that one vendor was talking about the other day?" Lydia questioned.

Giselle nodded and Lydia could tell her sister was thoroughly intrigued.

"The last head of the Phantomhive family was called Ciel. Great Grandfather wrote about how he had one extremely loyal butler who went everywhere the Earl went. His name was Sebastian Michaelis. Great Grandfather specifically wrote that he suspected this Michaelis butler was someone much more than he appeared to be."

"Why did he think that?"

"From one particular entry, Great Grandfather made it seem like the butler was just able to do anything and everything as if it was nothing. In my opinion, he could've just been a multi-talented man."

"Indeed," Lydia noted with a nod of her head. "It sounds like Great Grandfather met a fair share of interesting people during his time."

Giselle nodded and looked at the clock.

"It looks like we'll have to come back later to read more of Great Grandfather's journal," she noted. "Music lessons will begin soon."

"We'd best go before our tutor has a fit," Lydia suggested with a smile.

Giselle nodded and the girls headed to the salon.

*/*\*

"You are improving with the guzheng, Lydia," Giselle noted with praise as she helped Lydia push the Chinese harp into its rightful storage.

Lydia smiled.

"Thank you," she replied. "Hopefully, I can play just as lovely as you play the pipa someday."

"I still need more practice," Giselle said. "I'm more confident playing the cello."

"That's because you've already mastered the cello," Lydia countered. "Just as I have mastered my instrument, I feel more confident playing the piano too."

"I suppose we both need to practice more then," Giselle commented.

Lydia nodded and faced her sister after closing the storage door.

"Practice makes perfect," she stated. "Or so Mother loves to say."

Their conversation was interrupted by Giselle's maid—Bridget—who entered the salon after knocking twice.

"Pardon the intrusion, miladies," she said with a curtsey. "Miss Giselle, your guests have arrived."

"Ah yes, I almost forgot," Giselle replied. "Mrs. Williams is supposed to visit with Mrs. Andrews."

Bridget nodded.

"Miss Mary is here as well, milady," she added. "They have been situated in the east parlor already."

"Thank you, Bridget," Giselle said and faced Lydia. "Would you like to join us for tea, Lydia?"

Lydia wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"I'm not going to sit through tea with the Vulture Trio," she noted with distaste. "You know how much I don't like to be around them. They always find a way to make fun of us…especially Mary."

"Haven't I told you to stop calling them that?" Giselle questioned. "Mrs. Williams and her sister are elderly women who just tend to see a different side of us. And Mary isn't all that bad."

"You know that isn't true, Giselle," Lydia countered. "They love to swoop on the most current scandals of all sorts and tear the involved to bits. I wish you would stop accepting their visits especially when all they ever want to do is bring up your incident."

The evident tightening of Giselle's form made Lydia stop spewing anymore venomous words. She bit the inside of her cheek as punishment for bringing up the incident herself.

"It'll be fine," Giselle urged but Lydia felt her sister was—more so—trying to convince herself. "It's not like they can help it. Besides, all of society can't seem to get over that incident."

"Well, I don't like it!" Lydia exclaimed. "You might be able to sit through their crap but I can't. Who knows what I may do if I have to sit through another session of their excessive taunts and jabs."

Lydia was getting mad just thinking about the last time the Vulture Trio had paid a visit to the Winchester Manor. She took a deep breath to calm herself and looked at Giselle. The older woman was obviously distressed as well. Lydia would never understand how her sister had the patience to sit through someone's continuous poking and taunting of her.

"I suppose I will just have to leave you to your own devise then," Giselle announced.

"I'm more worried for you," Lydia replied with a hesitant expression.

"Oh hush," Giselle countered and turned to leave. "I'll be fine."

"Good luck," Lydia called.

Giselle glanced back at her with a look of disapproval. She responded with a cheeky grin and waved. The older shook her head and waved before departing from the salon. Lydia's grin faded into a line of worry and she hoped Giselle would be all right by herself. The Vulture Trio were brutal in their insistent gossip of others and—because Giselle still hadn't gotten over her incident—Lydia knew her sister wouldn't be able to handle their ridicule.

*/*\*

Mrs. Williams was a plump woman in her mid-fifties with a head of silver-gray hair tied back into a severe bun. One would think she wore her entire collection of jewelry with all the rings on her stubby fingers and the many necklaces dangling around what would've been her neck. Her light blue eyes twinkled with cheery demeanor as she turned her head at Giselle's entrance. She gave a nod of acknowledgement as her lips curved into a joyful smile. Giselle curtseyed in greeting and turned to greet the other two visitors.

No one would believe that Mrs. Andrews was the younger twin sister of Mrs. Williams. Just as Mrs. Williams was plump, her sister was thin with a slim figure and appeared frail with the lack of lively luster on her cheeks. Despite that notion, her light blue eyes—identical to Mrs. Williams' own and proof of their shared heritage—bore tough scrutiny that would make any established person doubt his worth. Her hair—just as silver-gray as Mrs. Williams—was pinned back into an intricate hairstyle giving the notion that she kept up with the current fashion trend despite her age. She nodded to Giselle but didn't smile.

"Thank you for calling today, Mrs. Williams," Giselle greeted. "Mrs. Andrews. Miss Mary."

"Of course, my dear," Mrs. Williams replied. "Why wouldn't we call on you?"

"You are such an interesting character after all," Mary noted and giggled as if she had told a joke.

At eighteen, Mary was the eldest of three children for the Williams' family. She possessed the same light blue eyes as her mother and a head full of thick dark brown hair that Giselle knew the young woman was most proud of. The tresses were pulled back into a long braid while a few strands teased her eyebrows. She was gifted with a slim figure that looked outstanding in the orange summer dress she'd chosen to wear. Plump lips were curved into a smile when she stopped laughing and her face—considered beautiful by many suitors—was complimented with her small, button nose.

"How are you today, Miss Giselle?" Mrs. Andrews asked as she looked over Giselle.

"Very well, thank you," Giselle replied as she situated herself into an armchair that stood far enough from the three to give her space but close enough not to be considered rude on her part.

A maid entered the room with the teacart and tea was served for the ladies.

"We called today because I heard the news, Miss Giselle," Mrs. Williams announced after she'd sipped her tea.

"News?" Giselle questioned as she nursed her own cup of tea.

"Yes, news," Mrs. Williams confirmed. "I read in the paper today that you have accepted a marriage proposal from Lord Jeremy Rivers, the Earl of Winfield."

"Imagine her delight," Mrs. Andrews commented without looking up from her cup.

"You must tell us of how you captured Earl Winfield's interest, Miss Giselle," Mary requested with a smile Giselle didn't quite trust.

Giselle managed a choked laugh as she tried to figure out what to say.

"Well…I don't know what to say," she confessed. "I suppose…to be honest, I'm not even sure how I did."

"Come now," Mrs. Williams insisted. "No need to be coy, my dear; we all know you have some tricks up your sleeve."

"How else would you have caught the Earl's attention?" Mary questioned as her eyes gleamed with an emotion Giselle couldn't quite identify.

"A woman of your experience could certainly charm any man," Mrs. Andrews commented. "Though you lack the youth and beauty of those like our Mary, you do have one advantage."

"I'm not quite sure if I understand what you're saying," Giselle answered. "Surely, Earl Winfield simply has ambitions that will be met once he marries me and receives my dowry."

"Ah, that's what many would think especially with such a match as yours," Mrs. Andrews countered. "On the contrary, who knows what the Earl is really thinking."

"Perhaps, he is simply looking for a life partner," Mrs. Williams stated. "That is, a life partner with certain qualities."

Giselle didn't miss the look the woman sent toward her twin sister.

"I'm certain Miss Giselle has qualities that the Earl would appreciate," Mary announced and turned to Giselle. "After all, I believe it correct when I say you withhold experiences that would probably make any man vie for your attention."

"Well, of course, any man would want a hand at that experience," Mrs. Andrews added. "Although, I suppose it is of some impression that the Earl did propose marriage."

"Ah yes, that is true," Mary noted with a nod. "Perhaps—do you think—he doesn't know?"

Giselle stiffened in her seat and refused to meet eyes with any of the other three.

"How could he not know?" Mrs. Andrews questioned. "It was all over the gossip columns. The only ones who wouldn't know about it would be hermits."

"I suppose he doesn't care much for gossip columns," Mrs. Williams said.

The chatter faded into the background as Giselle struggled to keep her senses straight. Her breathing was uneven as she told herself to remain calm. Taking a sip of her tea, she realized Lydia had been right in that she should stop accepting calls from these three. The tea did nothing to calm her stress and she feared she wouldn't be able to continue this "little get together" any longer. Just as Giselle would've stood to excuse herself, the door opened and she was relieved to see Lydia.

"Ah, Miss Lydia," Mary greeted. "How kind of you to join our tea party."

"Why don't you have a seat as well?" Mrs. Williams suggested. "The tea is wonderful as it always is."

"It has been a while," Mrs. Andrews greeted. "If I wasn't certain of it myself, I would say you purposely avoid our calls."

Giselle could see Lydia hid barely contained anger behind the sweet smile on her lips.

"My apologies, ladies," Lydia announced and the words sounded forced to Giselle. "Unfortunately, my sister and I are needed in the study for private reasons."

"Well, we mustn't keep you two away then," Mrs. Andrews replied.

"Indeed," Mary said and replaced her teacup. "It was good to see you again, both of you."

"We shall call again next week, perhaps," Mrs. Williams noted with a cheery smile.

Giselle stood and could only nod as she bid the ladies farewell. She only allowed her smiling façade to break once the parlor door closed. She slumped into the armchair and rubbed at her temples she hadn't known were throbbing until then. She heard Lydia grumbling words and looked to see the younger was pacing. She couldn't help but smile at her sister's antics.

"Lydia, no need to be angry," she said.

"I stood outside for some time before coming in," Lydia announced as she faced Giselle. "I can't believe they were so rude as to speak so blatantly."

"Never mind that," Giselle insisted and stood. "What was it that Father needed?"

"It was the only excuse I could think of to get them to leave," Lydia confessed.

Giselle shook her head but smiled at her sister.

"What are we going to do with you, Lydia?" she questioned.

Lydia could only grin in answer.

*/*\*

Giselle huffed as she focused on attacking the practice dummy with her épée. Her hair—pulled back into a braid—was disheveled with loose ends pasted on her face. Sweat formed a second layer over her skin and her clothes clung to her form. With another jab, she allowed the pull of gravity to take her body and she collapsed to the ground. Her chest rose and fell with her uneven breathing and she closed her eyes as she tried to calm the locomotive rate of her heart.

Her mother had suggested shopping but she hadn't felt like going. Giselle had convinced Lydia to go and knew her sister would get her back when they returned. The thought brought a smile to her lips and she straightened up, brushing her hair out of her face. Several hours had passed since they'd left and she looked at the clock. Supper would be served soon; therefore, she decided to end her practice session. She exited from the salon to find her father headed toward her way and she curtseyed in greeting.

"Father," she greeted.

His worried expression told her he already knew of her disastrous "tea party".

"Giselle," he said and her throat closed at the apologetic tone of his voice.

"It's all right, Father," she insisted with a shrug. "The things they said…they weren't that far from the truth anyway."

The blurring of her vision told her she had started crying. She wiped at her eyes vehemently and mentally scolded herself for crying. He pulled her into his embrace and the tears threatened to spill over again as she buried her face into his shoulder. He patted her head as he made hushing sounds and she choked on the lump in her throat.

"Everything will be all right, Giselle," Lord Hastings stated. "Don't let the gossip hurt you anymore."

Giselle pulled back to look up at him.

"That's not it, Father," she replied. "I've shamed the family with my scandal and no one will ever forget. Even if you've forgiven me, Father, society will never let it be forgotten that I ruined myself. I don't even deserve to be a daughter of the Hastings name anymore…"

"It'll be all right, my dear," he insisted and wiped her tears away. "I'm proud to have you as my daughter. You make me proud, Giselle; nothing is going to make me ashamed of having you for a daughter. We all make mistakes as we grow through life but we can't let those mistakes hold us back. You have to be strong in order to prevail over society. They'll forget all about it once you establish yourself as a mistress of your own home."

"Does the Earl know?" Giselle asked as she sniffed back the remainder of her tears. "Is he aware of…my past?"

"No," Lord Hastings answered.

"You should tell him, Father," Giselle said bitterly. "He probably wouldn't want to be with someone else's used goods."

"Do not talk lowly of yourself, Giselle," Lord Hastings reprimanded. "You're the daughter of the Hastings legacy; it is an honor for any man to marry you."

Giselle's smile was sad even if she tried to be happy that her father held her in such high opinion.

"That was once true, Father," she whispered. "I don't think anyone would want to have me anymore after they've heard of the things I've done."

Lord Hastings moved to say more but she shook her head.

"Enough," she insisted. "I'm tired, Father; I believe I shall take a nap. Please have supper delivered to my room."

She turned to see Lydia standing a few feet away with an expression Giselle almost recognized. She swore it was envy but she didn't understand why Lydia would be envious. The younger woman was still innocent in the eyes of society after all. She hadn't shamed the family to the point of no return like Giselle had. She was their father's true daughter. With a shaky breath, she departed from the hallway and silently wished she could disappear forever so their father would never have to deal with the shame of having her for a daughter again.

*/*\*

You make me proud, Giselle…

No matter how many times Lydia told herself, she couldn't stop the envy that had crept upon her at her father's words. She knew she had no reason to be angry…not really anyway. Still, her eyes burned as tears threatened to spill and she bit her bottom lip to stop the urge to cry. She sighed and stared at her reflection in her vanity mirror. Deep down, she knew she shouldn't have been surprised.

"After all, Giselle does everything Father ever asked of her…"

Except for one thing, of course…

Lydia laughed and the sound was foreign to her because of the way it was laced with bitterness. She didn't understand how her father could forgive her sister for what she'd done but couldn't even listen to her side of the story when she made her own mistakes. Once again, the notion that her father loved Giselle more than herself crossed her mind and the thought sent a pang through her heart. With a sigh, she shook the thought from her mind and decided to retire to bed. She stood to change but stopped when she heard a knock at her door.

"It's Giselle," her sister called through the door. "Can I come in; there's something I want to show you."

Lydia paused in thought as she stared at the door. She didn't feel like seeing her sister at the current moment. Even so, she figured Giselle would just need a few minutes of her time before leaving her alone for the night. With a sigh, she allowed her sister entry and was surprised to see the pendant hanging around the older woman's neck.

"Why are you wearing that?" she questioned.

Giselle spared the pendant a glance and shrugged.

"I'm not sure, really," she answered. "As I was reading through more of Great Grandfather's journal, I just suddenly felt the need to wear it."

"I suppose," Lydia replied as she shut her door and joined her sister on her bed. "So, what is it that you want to show me?"

Giselle flipped the journal open to a marked page with two lines. As Lydia silently read over the words, she figured they must've been a spell of sorts. She turned her attention to Giselle who was obviously waiting for her opinion.

"What?" she asked. "They're just words."

"I think it's a spell," her sister confessed. "Do you think Great Grandfather was interested in magic?"

Lydia shrugged.

"Who knows," she commented. "Maybe he did."

Giselle nibbled at her lower lip and it was clear the older woman was deep in thought. Lydia wondered how much longer it would take for her sister to leave. Of all nights, she just wasn't in the mood tonight. With a sigh, she resolved to twisting the ring she wore on her left middle finger. It gleamed brightly as it caught the light each time she twisted the blue jewel back into view.

"Do you want to recite the words with me?" Giselle asked.

Lydia couldn't help but laugh.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Why not?"

"Well…I suppose if you want to."

"Just once; then, I'll leave you alone for the night."

"All right."

Lydia ushered closer to Giselle's side. Her sister placed the journal between the both of them to allow easy reading. Giselle turned to her with a waiting look and she nodded in confirmation. Together, they cited the words of the spell.

To time and place that are the same

Let past be present that time regain

They waited for a response only for there to be none and Lydia sighed as Giselle closed the journal. Giselle chuckled as she got out of bed and faced Lydia with a sheepish look.

"I suppose that was stupid," she noted and Lydia nodded. "Well…I'll leave you alone to sleep then; good night, Lydia."

"Good night, Giselle," Lydia replied and couldn't help but smile. "Maybe Great Grandfather was just into poetry."

"Maybe," Giselle said as a smile teased her lips and she turned to leave.

Lydia stood to change only to pause when she heard a loud thump. Looking over her shoulder, her heart lurched into her throat when she saw Giselle had collapsed. Scurrying over her bed, she fell at her sister's side and flipped the woman over. Her vision blurred as she started crying, worry making her sick to the stomach.

"Giselle!" she exclaimed as she shook the woman's shoulder. "Wake up; what's wrong with you?"

She stood to get help only for her vision to swirl as if she was experiencing a dizzy spell. Falling back onto her knees, she felt warmth that started at her left middle finger. It slowly seeped through her body until it enveloped her entirely and weighed her down like lead. She fell over her sister and felt her throat constrict with worry for the woman. One question repeated itself in her mind: what the hell was going on? The last thing she remembered before darkness engulfed her world was the faint glow of Giselle's pendant as well as her ring.


Author's Note: All right, the wait is almost over! The next chapter is finally going to feature the characters of Kuroshitsuji. Then, the true adventure begins! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks for reading!

P.S. – The spell was borrowed from a spell on Charmed and doesn't belong to the author.

P.S. – A reviewer asked what the current time period for the girls was. To be honest, there was no thought for which time period the girls were from. Just assume that they are in a time that is modern but still holding onto traditional societal behavior. Does that make any sense? XD