A/N: You guys rock for all the reviews! I'm so glad you like this!

Chapter 14

Being in thrall made me appreciate the word "freedom" on levels that I hadn't known existed before, but I certainly was aware of them now. My life and my body were no longer under my control, but the control of another. Even every beat my heart gave and every breath I took was under Marcellus' control. I noticed this when I heard our hearts beat in rhythm with one another and saw our chests rising and falling at the same pace while we breathed. Even when I tried to take a breath on my own my body refused. A feeling like an iron vise closed around my chest until it was time to take a breath in time with Marcellus' and only then could I breathe. I was under his total control and there was nothing I could do about it.

The only thing that had improved in my situation was the fact that I was no longer bed-ridden. I was completely healed and able to get up, and Marcellus seemed just as glad of that fact as I was. I noticed that bells rang more often in the house, meaning that either Sir Charles or my master was increasing the number of his orders, or they both were. Such an increase in work meant that Marcellus would be rather busy and hard-pressed for time. With me following his orders, he could leave some of the more mundane tasks to me. Instead of only two hands, he now had mine at his disposal.

Oh, joy.

The very next morning after he put me in thrall, he woke me around six.

"Time to get up, Sebastian," he said. "We have a lot of work to do."

If he had said wake up instead of get up, I would have been awake before I was on my feet, but since he'd phrased his order the way he had, I woke up already standing. "What?"

"It's about six," he said, laying a pile of clothing on the foot of my bed. "Wash up and put on these clothes, set your room in order, and then come downstairs to the kitchen."

Before I could fight it, my hands were already in the bowl of water waiting on the washstand. I washed, dried off, and pulled on the clothes. It was while I was making my bed and folding my nightclothes that I caught sight of myself in the tall mirror and saw that I was wearing an outfit identical to Marcellus'. The tailcoat even had a pin with Sir Charles' coat of arms on it.

Ohhhh, the shame! I was wearing an enemy's symbol! There was no way to recover from the humiliation. None. None at all!

Since I knew how large houses were usually arranged, I found the kitchen with little trouble. Inside I found Marcellus holding court at the stove, mixing, stirring, and throwing dashes of seasoning in various pans.

"Hang up your coat, roll up your sleeves, change your gloves to work gloves, put on an apron and start preparing the vegetables on the table," he told me in one breath. "Mince the onions, slice the carrots, and dice the pumpkin after opening it and cleaning it out. Clean the pumpkin seeds and set them aside. Then open up the other pumpkin, clean it out, and carve it into a tureen."

"Pumpkin soup is on the menu, I take it?" I asked once I came to rest at the table and began to do as I'd been ordered.

"Carrot and pumpkin soup," he clarified. "It's for lunch today and it needs to simmer for a while."

"I knew that," I said, remembering the recipes I'd read. "But it needs to simmer for six hours?" All the recipes for pumpkin soup I'd ever read suggested no more than three hours.

"It's the way I'm preparing it," he explained, stirring the contents of a frying pan. "It's actually Sir Charles' favorite recipe, but it's a rush to get it done in time if he wants it for lunch. With that and everything else to do…"

I said nothing else and did as I'd been ordered. Fervently I wished I had a choice in the matter, but I did not. My body obeyed with no instructions from me and I did as I was told. I wouldn't have minded thrall so much if it hadn't been from the rush of contentment I got whenever I obeyed an order. That was probably why we demons feared thrall as we did; we could actually come to enjoy it over time! I hadn't been under thrall for twenty-four hours yet, but already I was beginning to enjoy the effects. That fact alone frightened me beyond all coherent thought. Whenever I obeyed, contentment and a strong feeling of well-being flooded through me. I was afraid to think what I would be like in a week.

Fear of what I could become through thrall drove me to speak. "Marcellus, may I ask a favor?"

He turned and stared at me. "A favor?"

"Instead of ordering me to do something, could you phrase it as a request? Being driven to obey and what happens afterward…" How could I make him understand what it was I feared without letting him know I was afraid?

"In a few days, we'll try that," he said after thinking about my request for several minutes.

"Why in a few days?" I asked a little desperately.

"A few days of following my orders will ensure that the thrall takes hold entirely," he said. "If I began making requests instead of orders, then you could break free."

"I'd prefer requests!" I said, even more desperation seeping into my voice.

"Sebastian, your situation is precarious," he said patiently. "You don't know how close you came to losing your life on Sir Charles' orders. Sir Charles fears the influence you could have on the young master. He doesn't wish you to be out of his sight, so he's ordered me to keep you here. He doesn't want you to be able to act on your own, so he's ordered me to put you in thrall or kill you. I didn't wish to kill you."

I sighed. Marcellus had taken the only choice that he felt would keep me safe. Why he'd wasted the effort, I didn't know, but that was the situation we had to work in and the one I had to endure. "I see."

We were both quiet after that, with Marcellus fixing breakfast and I doing what I'd been ordered. Once I'd finished preparing the vegetables Marcellus set me to sautéing the pumpkin, carrot, and onion together. Once he returned, he ordered me to prepare toast and scones as he put together the soup and set it to simmering. In short order the most succulent aroma filled the kitchen and I had to give him points for the recipe he was using. I actually wanted to taste it to see if it tasted as good as it smelled.

I was thankful that Marcellus kept me busy in the following days. Under his orders, I helped prepare meals, washed dishes, dusted, polished silver, laid the fires, blacked the grates, put rooms in order, washed, pressed, and folded laundry, helped feed the gray ones (that was disgusting and the one chore I hated unreservedly; they ate like brutes!) and I did what I was ordered to do. It kept me from thinking and later, fretting. I knew that if I had the chance, I would worry myself into knots. I was not in control of even my body, let alone anything else in my life for the present. Whenever I thought of my situation, I felt ill and my head pounded. I wasn't just worried; I was terrified.

I wasn't used to feeling terrified.

I saw the young master after spending three days in thrall. He was as subdued as I felt. He was quiet and withdrawn and he didn't say much or show much life at all. That…wasn't like him. In fact, it had me worried. What on earth had Sir Charles been doing to him?

Marcellus had me helping serve breakfast that day, and the young master looked at me as if he were seeing a ghost.

"Sebastian?" he said, staring at me.

"Yes, young master?" I said, pouring tea as I'd been instructed.

"You're better now?"

"Marcellus healed me, young master," I explained.

He nodded, still looking as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "You look much better."

I gave a polite little bow. What could I say to that?

"Marcellus," Sir Charles said, looking carefully at me. "Is he…?"

Marcellus knew what he wanted to say. "Yes, Master. He is in thrall."

I saw my young master flinch. Ah, so he'd been worrying about that. I could tell that it was an awful blow to him since if I were in thrall, then there were severe limits on what I would be able to do for him. Any plans he'd been making would have to be revised.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, Master," Marcellus affirmed. "If I give him an order, then he has no choice but to follow it."

"Hmm," Sir Charles said thoughtfully. From the expression on his face, I knew I was in trouble. He was about to order Marcellus to order me to do something absolutely ridiculous, like put the tea cozy on my head and dance around, or kiss Lumpy, or…

"I shall prove it," Marcellus said. "Sebastian, meow like a kitten."

I couldn't stop myself. "Mrau." Ohhh, I was going to get Marcellus for this. I didn't know when and I didn't know how, but he was going to pay.

Sir Charles stared at me and I wished the floor to open up and swallow me. There was a smile playing around his lips and I knew he was only a few seconds away from laughing. "Well, that's…interesting. He'll follow any order?"

I could see only very bad, terrible, and embarrassing things coming from this! Oh, yes, Sir Charles would find what he ordered me to do entertaining, but I most certainly would not!

"Any order I give him," Marcellus clarified, saving me. "Even if he tried to obey an order the young master gave him, if I ordered him to disobey it, he would have to obey me."

The look on Sir Charles' face spoke volumes and I wondered just what was wrong with that wretched floor under my feet. Why hadn't it opened up and swallowed me yet, why?

"Again, interesting," Sir Charles said. "And he has to follow the same order no matter how many times you give it?"

"Each time I give it, he has to follow it. Meow like a kitten again, Sebastian."

Marcellus' days were already numbered, but now the number had just become smaller. "Mrau."

"Kitten fiend," my young master muttered.

Sir Charles had heard. "Well, he's already a fiend, Ciel."

Someone needed to correct Sir Charles' misconception. I was not a fiend, I was a demon. There was a difference. Fiends had no class to speak of, while we demons were undoubtedly superior in every way.

"I knew that," my young master said, stirring his tea. "You just haven't seen him around a cat yet."

"Oh?" Sir Charles sounded interested.

"He loves cats," my young master said. "Only the fact that I'm allergic to cats has kept him from collecting every stray he sees."

Actually, the fact that my master was allergic to cats hadn't stopped me from collecting them; I had about ten of them back in my room at the Phantomhive estate. I was just very careful not to allow dander or their fur to gather on my clothes. I knew I could count on Finny to feed them for me in my absence, and since he loved adorable things, I knew he would play with them and keep them from being lonely, but Heaven help that boy if he petted one of those cats too hard…

One day began to flow into another. I did whatever Marcellus ordered, which mostly consisted of helping him in his work. I did enjoy carrying out my duties as butler again, but I wished with all my heart that the circumstances could have been different.

One would think that Marcellus would have kept me with him all the time, but no. There were times when he ordered me to return to my room and remain there until he came for me. An hour would pass, maybe two or three, but he would come at last and take me back to work. He never explained what these solitary times were for. Other times, he went with me and told me to sleep. I didn't understand why he did that since it was no longer necessary for me to sleep, but sometimes I had a short nap in the afternoons or I slept for entire nights. What purpose my sleeping was supposed to serve was beyond me. Another thing that puzzled me was the fact that occasionally, he would feed me. It was no longer necessary to feed me since I was already healed, but he would insist. The first time he tried it I had fought him with my newly-regained strength, but with an order he brought me under control and forced me to drink. The only difference was that the feeding had been much shorter, a few swallows only, rather than being made to drink until I was full. When I asked for an explanation, he used the same phrase that he used to explain almost all his actions. He had his reasons, and that was that.

Three weeks after I'd been put in thrall Marcellus and I were in the butler's pantry. He had me polishing the silver while he went over the supply inventory, and I found myself worrying yet again about the young master. Was he getting enough rest? Had his asthma been bothering him? He'd certainly looked wretched enough that morning at breakfast. Did his food agree with him, or did he need a few gustatory luxuries to tempt his appetite? I rarely saw him since Sir Charles didn't like me to be around my master, so I could only rely on reports from Marcellus for information during times Sir Charles banished me from the young master's presence.

"Sebastian?"

I nearly dropped the knife I was polishing. "Young master?"

Marcellus looked up from what he was doing to where the young master was standing in the doorway. "Young master, you're supposed to be having a nap."

"I couldn't sleep," he said. "They won't shut up."

"Who?" I asked. "The voices again?"

"Mmm," he affirmed, taking a seat on a stool. "They won't stop." He stared at me and then at Marcellus. "What are you two doing?"

"I'm polishing the silver and Marcellus is checking the inventory," I told him.

He leaned against the wall, looking tired. "Nothing interesting, I take it."

"Not really," Marcellus said. "Is there anything I can do for you, young master?"

"Just allow me to sit here with you for a while," he said. "I don't want to go back upstairs."

"Very well, sir," Marcellus said as he returned to his task. I went back to my work, too, but I kept an eye on the young master. He was pale and there were dark shadows under his eyes, and weariness was written in every line of his body.

I edged my way over to Marcellus as my master closed his eyes and his breathing deepened. By the time I reached Marcellus' side, the young master was asleep and I could talk to Marcellus as long as I did not speak too loudly.

"Marcellus, what's wrong with him?" I asked. "Please, tell me."

Marcellus glanced at the young master. "He is depressed, Sebastian. He is depressed and under a great deal of stress, and that's taking a toll on him. Sir Charles has become very...attentive of late."

"Attentive?" That word could mean almost anything and a few awful visions flooded my mind. "How so?"

Marcellus must have guessed what I was thinking from the expression on my face. "Oh, nothing like that! Believe me, I wouldn't allow it. No, he's afraid something will happen to the young master during the night, so he ordered the young master's bed moved to his room."

I blinked. My master preferred to sleep in a room by himself; in no way would he find sharing a room with someone who frightened him restful! No wonder he was so tired! "Anything else?"

"He won't allow the young master to go up or down stairs without holding onto his hand," Marcellus said. "If Sir Charles is not with him, then I must hold his hand."

There was more, I could tell. I had a feeling that Marcellus was reluctant to tell me all this due to any bad reaction on my part, so I tried my hardest to keep calm. "And?"

"He's afraid to leave the young master alone," he said, turning a page in his inventory book and checking the accounts against the lists on the table in front of him. "An adult must always be present wherever he is, except the water closet. In that case, the adult waits just outside the door."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. All of these latest changes…they were abusive! They allowed the focus of such measures no chance to relax or reflect or enjoy the solitude of their own thoughts. How easy would it be for someone to allow his mind to wander if someone else were always there?

"Marcellus, can you convince him to…to ease up a little?" I pleaded. "He'll drive the young master mad!" I knew that there were times when the young master preferred to be by himself; such times spent alone allowed him to refresh his mind and calm down, but if he lost the chance to do that...No wonder he was so tired!

"I'm working on it," Marcellus told me. "Believe me, Sebastian. Such actions are not healthy for either of them. Sir Charles has worked himself into such worry that he can't relax, and the young master picks up on that tension and becomes nervous. I'm trying to think of a way to make Sir Charles relax, but once he gets an idea into his head about something, it's very difficult to make him let go of it."

"I was afraid of that," I said. "My master is similarly stubborn about certain things, but he will listen to reason when needful."

"I wish my master would listen to reason now. Also, I wish he had something else to focus on," he confessed. "Something that would make him think of something besides the young master." He sighed and put his work aside.

This was the first time I'd ever seen him look so troubled. "Marcellus, what's wrong?"

He gave a grim smile. "I'm sure you'd have trouble believing this, but I wish I could dissolve the contract between Sir Charles and myself."

Once again, I almost dropped the knife and decided to put it down. "You do?" Never, in all my life, had I heard a demon say that.

He nodded. "I hadn't realized that what Sir Charles wanted would harm children to this degree."

Children? Oh, yes. Marcellus thought of me as a child. It was still as irritating now as it was when I first learned how he thought of me, but I decided it wasn't worth arguing about. "What can you do? The situation…"

"Is intolerable," Marcellus muttered. "It's intolerable for Sir Charles, for the young master, for you, and for me."

A demon regretting his actions…I couldn't believe it, but it was clear that what I was seeing was regret. Demons did not feel regret, not really. We could feel sorrow, we could feel unhappiness, but we did not feel regret to any large degree. Not the way humans experienced it, but what I was seeing was human regret. "You regret what you did?" I whispered.

"Yes, I regret it," he answered. "Instead of finding peace, Sir Charles has only found more worry. Instead of having a father who cares about him, Ciel has a jailer who frightens him. Instead of being able to care for your master, you are in thrall to me. Instead of having a master who's happy with his son, I have a master who is slowly driving himself into madness. Madness in humans can be circumvented if one goes about it the correct way, but I don't know how to bring Sir Charles back from the edge of insanity."

"That's always difficult," I said. I had had two masters and one mistress who had lost their minds, but I'd found that keeping them occupied as they approached a "spell" had been effective. Most often, something that they enjoyed doing was most effective. I pummeled my brains for a few minutes. When my young master needed distraction, we usually went to London…Oh! "Doesn't Sir Charles keep a house in London?"

Marcellus' head came up. "Yes, he does, but he'd never take the young master there."

"Why not?"

"Well, he doesn't wish even the villagers to know about the young master being here, so I doubt he'd want all those people in London knowing," Marcellus explained.

"But going to London would be perfect!" I insisted. "In London, one can be as anonymous as he pleases! In a village, someone new would be noticed, but in London, someone new is only someone new. Nobody really notices."

I could tell that Marcellus was thinking about what I was saying. "And how would going to London make Sir Charles lift all of these new strictures he's placed on the young master?"

"It would give him something else to think about," I said. "New surroundings, countless chances for entertainment…also, if we were able to arrange it so Sir Charles met someone, say a doctor specializing in the care of children, then wouldn't he be willing to at least listen to his new friend's advice?"

The look on Marcellus' face was priceless as I saw him consider several possibilities. No matter how much he wished to change the situation, he had no way to do so, but a change in the situation could allow him to change the whole.

"I think…that that is a very good idea, Sebastian," he said. "The hardest part would be to convince Sir Charles to go to London, but once we accomplished that, the rest would be easy."

"Indeed it would," I agreed. I could hardly believe that I was collaborating with an enemy, but if it helped my master in some way, then I would do so.

The thought made me pause. Could I even call Marcellus an enemy anymore? He didn't feel like an enemy, but he was helping to keep my master a prisoner…I sighed. I wasn't sure.

Marcellus looked past me to where my young master slept. "Does your master enjoy going to London?"

"He doesn't care for the noise, the dirt, or the crowds of people, but he does enjoy a few things about the city."

"Such as?"

"He likes the opera, the ballet, the theater, and the many museums and libraries. He also enjoys going to musical performances," I said. "Plus, he enjoys the occasional shopping trip. There were days when we would return to the Phantomhive estate with a carriage full of packages."

Marcellus looked from me to my master and back again. "I can't imagine him having fun shopping."

"He'd be the first to deny it."

That actually coaxed a smile from Marcellus. 'What does he go shopping for?"

"Books, mostly," I admitted. "My young master is a voracious reader. Other times we would bring home art supplies or sheet music for the music room, and occasionally he would buy some clothing for himself. Not much, though. Most of his clothing was made by his tailor."

"How long would these shopping trips last?"

"Sometimes a day, sometimes several days to a few weeks. Once we prowled London for the better part of a month before he found the book he wanted."

Marcellus chuckled, then looked past me to the sleeping young master. "Do you think we should take him upstairs? He'd be much more comfortable sleeping on a couch or his bed than that stool."

"I don't think he wants to be where Sir Charles could find him easily," I said. "I think that's why he came down here in the first place."

"Hmm," Marcellus said thoughtfully. "You might be right."

"I might also be down here hoping two butlers would agree to give me an afternoon snack," we heard my young master say.

Both of us turned to stare at him. "How long have you been awake?" we asked in unison.

He opened his eyes and stared at us. "All right, that was just frightening. I've been awake for a bit. Do you really think we can convince Sir Charles to go to London?"

"I don't know if we can, but I'm certainly willing to try," Marcellus said.

I couldn't get over the change in Marcellus. All at once, it struck me that instead of helping keep us prisoner, he was willing to work with us so our situation wouldn't be so unbearable. Would any other jailer be willing to do that?

"I'm glad," my young master said. "Now, about that afternoon snack…"

I checked the time. "Young master, if you eat something now, you won't finish all of your dinner."

"I don't care about that," he said. "If I make it an order, then you have to obey me, don't you?"

"As long as I don't order him not to follow that order," Marcellus said quickly.

My master gave a world-weary sigh, clearly annoyed. "You two are such a pair."

"We are merely concerned for your welfare, young master," I said.

"Tch." He left his stool and approached us. "So, London. Can it happen?"

"It's possible, if we go about it the right way," Marcellus said. "Sir Charles mustn't suspect anything, though."

My master stared at the floor, thinking. "What if I asked him to take me to London?" he suggested. "I could talk a bit like an eager kid and call him 'Papa.' He's usually pretty indulgent toward me if I do that."

I cursed the fact that I'd been away from my young master for so long. That he was willing to call a strange man 'Papa' was worrisome. "Do you do that often?"

He gave me a long look. "Only when I have to," he said levelly.

From his tone, I knew that what had happened hadn't been good. "Young master..."

"I don't want to talk about it, Sebastian," he interrupted.

Whatever had happened, Marcellus hadn't told me about it, and it had been big. I could tell that it had upset my young master very much and I knew that I couldn't let it go. Somehow, I would have to find a way to learn what had happened and help him come to terms with it. Otherwise, he would attempt to bottle up the emotion and that was bad. It was as bad as it could be.

"No, I think it would be best if mention of London came from me," Marcellus said at last. "I'm the one he would least suspect."

"I'll leave it to you," my master said. "Now, I'd better go back upstairs before Sir Charles realizes I'm not where he left me. He might..."

"CIEL! CIEL! Answer me!"

"Ah, too late," he groaned. "Quick, one of you give me a snack! Something a kid would want!"

In short order my master joined us in the kitchen where Marcellus and I produced a fruit and cream parfait, which my master was happily eating when Sir Charles rushed into the kitchen. "Marcellus, I can't find Ciel!" He slid to a halt and stared at the three of us, Marcellus and I deep in our duties and the young master deep in his snack. "Ciel, how long have you been down here?"

"Only a little while. I came to ask Marcellus for a snack, Papa," he said brightly, hopping from the stool in front of the kitchen table. "I was hungry!"

My master was a very good actor. He had had to learn to be such, inheriting the title of Queen's Guard Dog upon the death of his father, and I could tell that he was using every acting skill he possessed in order to convince Sir Charles that he had only wanted a snack.

"Now, you know better than that," Sir Charles said patiently. "When you're down for a nap, that's what you're supposed to do. You're not supposed to wander the house. What if you had fallen down the stairs?"

"I held onto the banister with both hands," my young master offered. "I was very careful, Papa, just like you told me to be."

Sir Charles put a hand on his shoulder. "All right. Next time you're down for a nap, stay there, all right? Ring for Marcellus if you want something instead of searching him out."

The young master smiled. "Yes, Papa."

He looked like the young master and spoke with the young master's voice, but I felt as if I were looking at a stranger. This was...eerie. As a demon, such things shouldn't have bothered me, but I was as bothered as I could get.

"If you're finished with your snack, Ciel, why don't you go out to the terrace and wait for me there? I'd like to talk to Marcellus for a minute."

My master did as Sir Charles asked and as soon as he'd left the room Sir Charles turned to Marcellus. "Marcellus, I want you to tell me the truth about this, all right?"

Marcellus nodded. "Yes, sir?"

"Does Ciel look pale to you?"

Marcellus looked the way the young master had gone and nodded. "I think so, yes. I think he looks...well, he looks as if a change of scene would do him good."

"He does?"

"Yes, master. He does."

Sir Charles nodded, looking thoughtful. "Where would you suggest I take him? I don't want strangers to try to take him from me. Somewhere on the coast, perhaps? Brighton? Blackpool?"

Marcellus bowed. "With respect, sir, London would be a better choice."

Marcellus' answer surprised him. "London? All those people?"

"How better to be anonymous than to be in the midst of thousands?" Marcellus pointed out.

I could tell that Sir Charles was thinking about this. "I don't know if Ciel even likes London."

"We could ask Sebastian," Marcellus suggested.

"Would he tell us the truth?"

This impugning of my integrity was almost more than I could bear.

"Demons do not lie," Marcellus reminded him. "Sebastian, tell us. What does the young master think of London?"

I told him almost exactly what I had told Marcellus. I could see him thinking about what I was saying and I hoped...

"All right," Sir Charles said soon after I finished speaking. "Marcellus, arrange to have the London house opened. We'll be leaving on Friday."

A/N: Whew! Long chapter! Enjoy!