Darbyshire
There was once upon a time a fisherman who lived with his wife in a miserable pigsty close by the sea, and every day he went out fishing. And once as he was sitting with his rod, looking at the clear water, his line suddenly went down, far down below, and when he drew it up again he brought out a large flounder. Then the flounder said to him, "Listen, you fisherman, I pray you, let me live, I am no flounder really, but an enchanted prince. What good will it do you to kill me? I should not be good to eat, put me in the water again, and let me go."
"Come," said the fisherman, "there is no need for so many words about it - a fish that can talk I should certainly let go, anyhow." With that he put him back again into the clear water, and the flounder went to the bottom, leaving a long streak of blood behind him. Then the fisherman got up and went home to his wife in the pigsty.
"Husband," said the woman, "have you caught nothing today?"
"No," said the man, "I did catch a flounder, who said he was an enchanted prince, so I let him go again."
"Did you not wish for anything first?" said the woman.
"No," said the man; "what should I wish for?"
"Ah," said the woman, "it is surely hard to have to live always in this dirty pigsty; you might have wished for a small cottage for us. Go back and call him. Tell him we want to have a small cottage, he will certainly give us that."
"Ah," said the man, "why should I go there again?"
"Why," said the woman, "you did catch him, and you let him go again; he is sure to do it. Go at once." The man still did not quite like to go, but did not like to oppose his wife, and went to the sea.
When he got there the sea was all green and yellow, and no longer smooth; so he stood still and said:
"Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Come I pray you, here to me;
For my wife, good Isabel,
Has sent me here against my will."
Then the flounder came swimming to him and said, "Well, what does she want, then?"
"Ah," said the man, "I did catch you, and my wife says I really ought to have wished for something. She does not like to live in a wretched pigsty any longer. She would like to have a cottage."
"Go, then," said the flounder, "she has it already,"
When the man went home, his wife was no longer in the pigsty, but instead of it there stood a small cottage, and she was sitting on a bench before the door. Then she took him by the hand and said to him, "just come inside, look, now isn't this a great deal better?" So they went in and there was a small porch, and a pretty little parlor and bedroom, and a kitchen and pantry, with the best furniture, and fitted up with the most beautiful things made of tin and brass, whatever was wanted. And behind the cottage there was a small yard, with hens and ducks, and a little garden with flowers and fruit. "Look, said the wife, "is not that nice!"
"Yes," said the husband, "and so we must always think it. Now we will live quite contented."
"We will think about that," said the wife. With that they ate something and went to bed.
~Excerpt from "The Fisherman and His Wife" by The Brothers Grimm*
"...er...ster...Master...ng Master... Young Master!"
Ciel suddenly awoke and sat up, a bewildered look on the boy's face. Sebastian stepped back as his master suddenly jumped in his bed.
"Young Master, were you reading Edgar Allen Poe before going to bed, again? I have warned you many times about that and still, you insist on doing so," Sebastian admonished lightly.
"No, I had read nothing, especially after that bloody wake up call about my father being an Assassin, as Darby says he is..." Ciel muttered irritably.
"Then what is the matter? Did you have a bad dream?" asked Sebastian.
"It was not frightening. It was just... odd..." Ciel replied. "I dreamt I was a fisherman, and I caught a giant, talking, white and red fish. The fish had some sort of antennae with a golden sphere-thing at the end of it. It was an odd-looking fish. Anyway, it begged me to release it back into the ocean, and I did, and then I went home to some ugly little shack and some woman was nagging me to get the fish and wish for a nicer cottage. I did so, and the fish granted the woman her pretty little cottage. She hardly seemed content though."
"... That's your dream?" Sebastian asked with an incredulous look on his face.
"Does it look like I'm joking, Sebastian?" Ciel commented, glaring at his butler.
"Hm. Maybe you were contemplating how Miss Elizabeth is doing. She misses you terribly, last I heard," Sebastian suggested as he took out a blue suit from the Master's suitcase.
"Well, the woman from my dream wasn't Elizabeth at all. If I was dreaming about Elizabeth, I would have dreamt of her decorating my manor with 'cute' things. That would have been a nightmare, indeed..."
"Well, let us not speculate further. Mr. Darby has a guest, and according to what I heard from the other servants, it seems like a Mr. Lockaby has come." Sebastian helped Ciel dress into the blue suit as he said this.
"Hm. Since Mr. Darby is so eager to have me become a part of his little group, I'm sure he won't mind if we trespass on his hospitality a little more. We must find out all we can from him and this Lockaby while we are here so that we can find out who amongst the Templars may have given the motion to murder Sir Walter and Lord Fitch. Then we can finish this bloody business for the Queen and go home."
"Yes, my Lord," Sebastian replied as he tied a bow around Ciel's neck and tucked the bow underneath the shirt collar.
"Master Lockaby!" Darby exclaimed as he practically ran up to his old mentor and gave him a vigorous handshake.
"I'm glad that you're still very eager to see me, Nicky," Paul Lockaby eagerly replied with a chuckle. "Most people are not happy when I'm around; they'd rather have me dead!" He laughed heartily at this thought.
"Master Lockaby, if you could please not call me 'Nicky' in front of my guests; you know how that irritates me," Darby said with gritted teeth as he tried to keep on smiling.
"Well, I didn't know you had guests. I suspected you were all alone. Ah, well, the more the merrier, because look who I found roaming around town!" Lockaby gestured to the white-robed man standing behind him. "May I present to you this young man, Ezio Auditore!"
"... You can't be serious," the gentleman said with incredulity in his eyes. This time, Lockaby had become quite serious in his expression.
"He doesn't believe you are Ezio Auditore," Lockaby muttered to Ezio in Italian. The man pulled off his hood and revealed his face, then greeted Darby by saying, "Buongiorno, Messer."
"... I still don't believe you, Lockaby," Darby commented. Deep inside though, the gentleman wanted to believe, especially because he had been fantasizing of this very moment, when he could meet Ezio, have coffee with him at a café, and listen to his gallant stories about all of the assassinations he conducted. The mentor sighed.
"I guess you are taking 'Nothing is true' all too seriously, my boy," Lockaby muttered sarcastically underneath his breath.
Ciel had come out of his bedroom, dressed up neatly, with a well-groomed superiority in his countenance. He walked down the stairs of the foyer and was about to go into the dining hall for breakfast. Sebastian followed him down the foyer. The butler caught a glimpse of Lockaby, who noticed them just as soon as they came in sight.
"So, are these your guests, Nicholas?" Lockaby inquired as he spotted Ciel and Sebastian going towards the dining hall.
"Yes, yes," Darby replied as he turned around and saw Ciel and Sebastian. The two stopped and turned to see Darby, Lockaby, and the stranger in Renaissance-style clothing.
"This is the young, Earl Phantomhive and his butler, Mr. Michaelis. They inquired about the incident regarding Sir Walter and Lord Fitch," Darby introduced. Lockaby nodded, eyeing the boy, wondering how the child lived after the fire in the original Phantomhive Estate.
"Ah, how do you do? I'm Baron Paul C. Lockaby. I have heard much about your company, Earl Phantomhive. 'Funtom', was it?"
Ciel and Sebastian walked up to the group. "Yes, that is correct," replied the Earl. "We've heard much about you, too; particularly in a letter Lord Fitch was supposed to deliver to you."
"Well, I would have interrogated you about that letter, had it not been for the fact that you are conducting the investigation of his and Sir Walter's murder for the Queen," Lockaby said with a faint chuckle, trying to look amused. Darby could tell that his Mentor was not amused at all by this.
"Alright, well, my old mentor has brought a friend of his own," the gentleman spoke. "Earl Phantomhive, Mr. Michaelis, I'd like to introduce you to, um..." Darby did not wish to finish the sentence because he just couldn't believe it was him, Ezio Auditore, in the flesh.
"Buongiorno, Earl Phantomhive," Ezio greeted, trying to pronounce "Earl Phantomhive" to the best of his ability. He had a very thick Italian accent, so it certainly did not come out as perfect English. "I am Ezio Auditore da Firenze," Ezio stated in his native tongue.
"Great. An Italian man. The last time I met one, he had his mercenaries shoot down Sebastian, and he almost bloody killed me, too," Ciel muttered.
"Good morning, Mr. Auditore. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Sebastian said in perfectly fluent Italian.
"Finally; at least there's one person in this place who can understand me!" Ezio excalimed with a little bit of enthusiasm in Italian. Darby and Lockaby simply stared at Sebastian, awestruck by what had just occurred between him and Ezio.
"How in the world...?" Darby uttered, which only made Sebastian chuckle a little and smile. "If I couldn't speak all forms and dialects of languages to interpret them for my Young Master, what kind of a butler would I be?" Sebastian stated with a wink.
"Grazie, Messer," said Ezio, to which Sebastian commented in Italian, "Please, you may call me Mr. Michaelis."
"What is he saying?" Ciel asked.
"He is grateful to me for being able to translate and understand what he is saying," the butler replied.
"Well, that's enough introductions for the day! What say we talk over breakfast?" Darby declared as he began to walk quickly to the dining hall, very impatient to discuss business with all who were to be gathered at the table. Lockaby followed in a leisurely, but tall manner.
"Come along, Mr. Auditore," Ciel commanded, which Sebastian repeated in Italian. Ezio followed them into the dining hall grand dining hall, a little relieved that someone can interpret for him in this somewhat foreign land.
*Excerpts from "The Fisherman and His Wife" will be used throughout this fanfic. It is solely for the purpose of enhancing the story; by no means did I alter it and make it my own. The Brothers Grimm own the tale, and All Rights are Reserved for them. There is a reason why I am using this particular fairy tale; just hold on tight and keep reading! ;)