O, that a mighty man of such descent,
Of such possessions and so high esteem,
Should be infused with so foul a spirit!

The Taming of the Shrew


Part three: to the waters and the wild


{vi}

"Claude?" Alois asked blearily, hearing the sounds of curtains being drawn and the calm, quiet sound of tea being poured. He blinked his eyes open, noticing with a jolt the unfamiliarity of the room and then remembering, suddenly, the reason why Claude wasn't there. He sat up, looking over at the butler that watched him with a pristine, blank expression from deep maroon eyes.

"Alois Trancy," Sebastian said. "Or perhaps I should say, 'Jim Mackan'."

Alois scowled. "If you use that name, I'll bite Ciel's tongue. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

Sebastian took a cup and saucer and held it out to him. "Very well," he said. "Alois Trancy." Alois took the cup—to be really honest, he'd never enjoyed tea, he hadn't drank it at all before Claude became his butler. He swirled the dark liquid around and tilted the cup back and forth before taking a sip or two and putting it back on the saucer, while Sebastian watched.

"You killed Claude, didn't you?" he said. "First Luca, and now Claude… you've taken everything I care about. Does that amuse you?"

"I may have killed Claude," Sebastian said, "but I was not the demon that your brother made a contract with. I was never at that village and was not responsible for his death."

"Like I believe you!" Alois laughed scornfully. "Whatever." He stood up then, shrugging off his nightshirt, and Sebastian stepped forward, handing him his shirt and trousers as Alois dressed himself. At last he was left tying his shirt ribbon in a messy knot.

Sebastian watched for a moment, frowning. "If you would allow me," he said.

"You'd just hate it if I walked around looking badly dressed, wouldn't you?" Alois asked. He smiled slightly, and tugged the knot tighter. "You know—I think I like it like this."

"What a pity," Sebastian said, as he reached over to his collar, "since I care not a whit what you like." He took hold of the end of the knot and quickly unraveled it. Alois narrowed his eyes.

"You're pretty mouthy for a butler," he observed.

"Am I?" Sebastian asked pleasantly.

"Yes," Alois said. He tilted his head as Sebastian re-tied the ribbon, watching the expression of contemplation on his face. "I don't care at all about inconveniencing you," he said at last, "but I am sorry, for Ciel's sake. I never wanted this to happen to him."

"How interesting," Sebastian said, flatly. "You've done quite a good job bringing about what you didn't want to happen."

"Let's get one thing clear," Alois said, grabbing Sebastian's hand as he started to turn away.

"I wanted Ciel Phantomhive for myself, but I never meant to treat him badly. I only wanted to take him from you, to hurt you the way you hurt me." And save him, Alois thought, from the machinations of demons. If there was one thing Alois felt for Ciel besides jealousy, it was sympathy—he knew the situation Ciel was in as no one else did.

There was a long silence, and then Sebastian chuckled. "Hurt me? If that was your aim, you've failed more badly than I thought."

"Have I?" Alois said. He looked hard at Sebastian. "No," he said at last, "in that, I think I've succeeded quite well."

Sebastian pulled his hand away, the humor fading from his expression. "If you wish, you may go anywhere in this manor; the servants have been informed of the situation and will not take orders from you."

"Pity," Alois said. "It would be fun to see what trouble I could make in Ciel's name. I bet I could have have fooled them."

"You underestimate them," Sebastian said. He took the tea tray, the discarded nightgown over his arm, and began walking to the door.

And you underestimate me, Alois thought, glaring at Sebastian's back. It was a mistake all of Alois' enemies had ended up regretting.

What a bothersome place this was, Alois thought—so empty, dull, and dreary—it felt like there were shadows under everything, even the places there shouldn't have been shadows; the dark-paneled walls of the manor seemed to exude the same air as the demon that resided within it. Alois meandered through the library, where he tipped the books half out of their shelves and re-arranged them in incoherent ways. It was there that he ran into the maid, who flushed and stopped short at the sight of him, her overly-large round spectacles glinting and a feather-duster poised in her hand.

"Oh!" she said.

Alois looked her over, noticing the promising swell of her ample breasts under her pressed dress and starched white apron, the rosy flush on her cheeks, her intriguing, copper-red hair. Not bad at all.

Alois smiled, pushing a book back into its place and turning to face her. "And you must be Mei-Rin," he said, with all the charm he could muster, smiling a sweet, childish smile tempered by the slightest hint of appreciative lust. "What a pleasure to finally meet you."

"A—I—welcome to the manor, Earl, Trancy, sir," she stumbled, obviously thrown off-balance.

So I'm not what she expected, Alois thought. He walked forward, running his fingers thump, thmp, thump along the edges of the books as he did so; the blush on the maid's cheeks grew even redder, and he reflected for a moment on his lost wardrobe, which would have accentuated the indecent sway of his walk. As he came closer to her, she held out her feather duster between them, saying with a surprisingly firm voice, "As much as I may be flattered, you won't get anything from me," and the slight emphasis on 'anything' made him narrow his eyes, reflecting that she really was cleverer than she looked—not that he should have been expecting anything else. Not willing to spill information, then? he mused. Well, it's no matter—Ciel knows more than you do, I'm willing to bet, and I know him. He smiled again. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said brightly. "I am terribly bored though, you wouldn't know anything I might use to pass the time?"

"Hasn't anyone…" she started, and then paused. "No, of course not. I'm afraid I have duties but perhaps…" she hesitated, clearly at a loss, and then settled on, "well, there's always the music room."

Alois laughed. He'd learned the piano passably well, once he'd gotten in with old Trancy, but it was nothing near the skill these born nobles must have, and he'd never cared to practice it with Claude—he'd always preferred dancing. The thought of Claude made him sad again, suddenly. Where are you? he thought. Can you still feel me, somewhere, or are you really lost, travelled into that void of death forever? It was a chilling thought, and if he'd truly believed it he didn't know what he would have done—gone mad with grief, perhaps… or just plain mad. Not that we aren't already, he thought, with a sudden smirk. You're a mad dog, Phantomhive. He giggled, and caught the maid's eye, noticing her sudden awkward look. "You know," he said at last, "I think I'll take you up on that. Where is the music room?"

With another blush, the maid lead the way down the many halls. Maybe she didn't know that he already 'remembered' where the room was, Alois mused, or else she was too tactful to say anything; either way, it was a nice gesture, even if she was being paid for it. He gave her another smile and a flirtatious little wave at the door, and she smiled shyly at him before leaving.

One look around had Alois sighing dramatically, and he flopped himself over the piano bench, lifting the cover to see all those keys, like teeth with black rotted holes in them. "You'd just love to chew my fingers up, wouldn't you?" he muttered, darkly, his hands hovering over the keys before settling and playing a few bars. It was dreadfully dull without any audience, and Alois slipped off the bench to skip away, leaving the piano uncovered. Whatever Sebastian said to him, he could tell that Claude wasn't dead-dead-dead, but only somewhat dead, because even with his strangely numb tongue, he could still feel the thin, constant echo of his contract, useless, for now, but for the reassurance that came with the fact that it was still there, even as slightly as this. But what has he done to you? Alois thought. And how do I get you back, if the strength of my orders aren't enough?

He found the long staircase to the main hall, and decided on a sudden whim to slide down the long curving banister, shrieking with laughter until he got to the end. He hopped off onto the tiled floor, jumping lightly from white square to white square until he reached the large front doors, pushing them open to reveal the bright summer sunshine. The curving drive lay like a winding beacon leading away, and Alois wondered, as he started off down it, how far he would be able to walk before something swooped down to stop him. It was not very long at all, but the barrier didn't swoop down; instead, a tousled blonde head poked itself up from behind a row of bushes, clippings lying in swathes about the path and leaves in his hair.

"Hello there," the boy said, cheerily. "You must be Alois!"

Finnian, Alois thought. Of course—the innocuous gardener with the uncanny strength. He had a wide, bright smile and lovely green eyes.

For an earl who had kept his estate with only one demon instead of five, Ciel Phantomhive still managed to gain some interesting specimens. "That's sir to you," Alois said, with a small smile, "but you're right. And your name is…?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," the gardener replied, walking out of the bushes to give him a little bow, as if to make up for his earlier impropriety. "My name's Finnian, Finny for short."

"And which do you prefer?" Alois asked.

Finny stopped a moment. "Well…" he said at last. "I suppose I like both, but Finny's fine; most everyone calls me that."

"Finny," Alois said. "Do you take care of these whole grounds?"

"Yes, I do!" Finny beamed. "If you want me to show you around anywhere here, I'll be happy to take you."

But not farther than the manor grounds, of course, Alois thought. He was instinctively on guard against anything not-quite human, from Finny to the hawk-eyed sniper-maid, but more than that, something about the cheery, uncaring attitude of this gardener and the bleached thatch of his hair reminded Alois too much of himself to easily overlook the ever-present danger he posed. Still, it would probably be good to walk with him, if only because this young man might let loose things in casual chatter that the maid would never have.

"That would be wonderful," Alois replied, and let the gardener lead him about, telling him the details of his daily chores when prompted. It was more than clear that Finny was happy with his job. What a funny thing, Alois thought. He supposed some people in the village must have been happy with their jobs, but all he had ever known were bitter people, worrying every day about making ends meet, always so scared that any wrong move or bad harvest would plunge them into the same poverty Jim and Luca had suffered, forced to beg on the streets like kicked dogs, and just as unwelcome. This innocent joy, after all that Finny had experienced, though he didn't speak of it at all, made Alois think, with a pang, about Luca—how even the meanest, most desperate situation had been a game to him, how he had worked with all he had to bring Alois happiness, when his fits of anger or apathy would overcome him.

"Are you all right?" Finny asked, noticing Alois' sudden, withdrawn look and lack of response to whatever he had been going on about.

"I'm fine," Alois snapped.

"Okay," Finny replied, still kindly, as though he hadn't noticed Alois' manner at all.

You're so lucky, Ciel Phantomhive, Alois thought, bitterly. How can you have it all, so freely—a noble lineage, servants that would die for you of their own free will, the love of not one but two demons… it made him sick! It made him so bloody angry. He had had to beg and claw for every scrap, and Ciel floated on the air, like a flame to which all those around him were only helpless moths, beating their wings to get closer to that uncaring doom. And Alois was one of them, just as wretched, still begging, still ignored.

"I think luncheon might be ready, if you'd like to go in," Finny said at last.

"Thank you," Alois said. "I will." He walked quickly back to the house, followed by Finny, who contrived to walk beside him as though it was an aimless thought, whistling.

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