Note to the Readers: And we're back! I hope you all had a good holiday. Mine was very enjoyable, excepting work stress. The scariest place to work during the holidays, besides retail, is in a bakery. I barely survived O_o. But, anyway. Here it is! The heart to heart. I hate asking for reviews, really I do. I normally feel that if you have something to say, that's lovely, I enjoy entertaining you and exchanging messages with you all. However, if you don't have anything to say, that's okay, too. I definitely do not hold anything against the silent observer. I myself was the same way for two years before I decided to make an account.

BUT.

But. I am putting an embarrassingly stupid amount of effort into this story. As I've said before (mini rant coming up, get ready), even though it's all fictional, the story of Narcissus is very personal to me, having been called nasty things because I would rather be alone than "give someone a chance." Since they were so nice, I was obligated to hand myself over to them, because all I'm good for is sexy time favours. That was the only thing they were after in the first place. And I know I can't be the only one who's dealt with others' entitled nonsense. And going back to the "romanticised suffering" surrounding the legend, Ciel dealt with it himself when confronted by Baron Kelvin's obsession with him, his encounters with the Viscount, and we all know how excited the occultists were to sacrifice the Phantomhive boy. It's a theme in his life, too. In summation, this is a story about things that are seen as romantic or beautiful when they clearly are not... among other things. I hope I'm making sense. The season has left me very scatter brained. Not trying to throw myself a pity party or pretending to be super deep, but it would really be interesting to read what all of you have to say about this, whether you agree or disagree. Read on, lovelies- IF YOU DARE. /end melodrama

The barkeep was already awake at dawn, purple circles under his eyes and his body turned expectantly towards the stairs.

"You're awake very early," Sebastian commented.

"Yes. I just wanted to see my two best customers out," the barkeep smiled.

Ciel yawned. "Thank you again for your hospitality. Your words have been very beneficial to us. But, just so we understand each other," he added with a side glance, "we never asked you about anything."

"Not a single thing," said the barkeep, shaking his head.

Ciel nodded. "We'll be on our way then. Good bye."

"Good bye and good travels." The barkeep watched the mysterious duo walk out the door, still feeling the weight of his payment in his trouser pocket. He normally would have blessed a traveler's journey, but he kept the prayer to himself. Something told him that those two were not the types who would appreciate such language.

The world all around the Earl and his Butler was only just beginning to lift itself from sleep. Birds hopped out onto bare branches to shake their feathers free of dew and the sun peeped out from behind the anemic rain clouds. Its light was humble and warm and Ciel lifted his face to it with closed eyes.

There were only three other men besides Ciel and Sebastian who were boarding the train for Manchester. Again, Ciel purchased two luxury compartment tickets for himself and his Butler. The conductor gave a strange look but Ciel paid no mind. The opinion of others amounted to little more than nothing. Once the train was moving at a steady speed, a stewardess brought to them a breakfast trolley which carried a variety of English morning delights: scones, crumpets, ham, sausage, eggs, hot cereals, black tea, strong coffee, etc. The perks of the luxury seating. Ciel chose for himself a traditional full breakfast with a cup of bold Keemun. After the stewardess had left and Ciel started into his meal, the Butler asked a question. It was:

"How did you sleep?"

Ciel shrugged and did not lift his head. "Fine. Why do you ask?"

"You seemed to be having a nightmare." It was then that the Young Master looked up at Sebastian. "You were kicking your legs and moaning."

"Oh." Ciel started back at his meal again. "I did have a bit of a bad dream but it didn't last all night."

"Good." There were many questions that Sebastian wanted to ask his master, but it would be impolite to interrupt his mealtime. He waited patiently until the boy had cleaned his plates before posing the questions. "Young Master," he began, "I hate to bring up sore memories, but I was curious to learn about your experience as Narcissus."

"I figured you would." Ciel shrugged. "I actually found it strange that you didn't ask me sooner."

"I wanted to give you ample time to regroup."

"What would you like to know?"

"Everything, sir. If it would not be intrusive of me to ask."

"It wouldn't be. I just give need a place to start."

"You told me not to accept drinks from Green. Why is that exactly?"

Ciel started from the beginning, at the poisonous tea part as hosted by Bacchus and Quasimodo. He told the Butler about meeting Abrahm and the quadruple locked doors and the portion controlled meals. He told him about the slave labour and his pantomiming lessons with the spineless Harrison. As for the show itself, the ridiculous costumes (or lack thereof), the poppet make up, the fetishised sadness, the crowded cages, Sebastian already knew about those things. It took a very dark matter to disturb the Butler, but Ciel could tell by the way his mouth tightened into a straight line and the slight decline in his eyebrows that the business of the Exhibition left him feeling very uneasy.

"I see..." Sebastian sounded as if he were talking to himself. "I apologise, my Lord. It was never my intention to put you through such a degrading ordeal." He cast his eyes downward and folded his hands stiffly over one another.

The sighing of the train's engine occupied the respite.

"Well." Ciel leaned his elbow against the window, his head in his palm. He gazed out the glass at the rapidly passing hills. "I could have called you at any point but I chose not to. Our curiosities got the better of us."

"Do I have your forgiveness?" Sebastian asked.

"Hmm... I suppose so."

Sebastian bowed his head. "I give you my sincere gratitude, my Lord."

There was another short span of quiet before the Butler proceeded with his queries. "It may seem obvious, but I would like to hear you explain it more clearly. What do you make of all this? Not only the exhibit, but the idea of Narcissus being a figure of desire. Or, to use your own words, to make a 'peep show' of his suffering?"

"I think it is absolutely disgusting," Ciel said without hesitation. "I fail to see the 'beauty' or the 'lesson' in it. Think on the very basic core of story. Narcissus is punished because he doesn't feel the drive to be anyone's lover... and? What business is that to anyone else? Oh, boo hoo, he doesn't want to bang you. So make an example of him? He was cursed in such a way that it would bring about his demise. He was killed for doing absolutely nothing wrong. He may have been arrogant and proud, but what does it really matter? Let him live his life the way he wants to: Alone. He does not owe it to anybody to be their pretty plaything. Mister Harrison told me that it is a 'cautionary tale' of arrogance and self-indulgence. But the punishment is disproportionate to the crime. The only real criminals in that case were Nemesis and the spiteful bastard who summoned her. If anything, it is a warning about the entitlement of others. Be careful who you offend! Because if you refuse to give them something that they want, they will stop at nothing, nothing, to destroy you and they will delight in your downfall. And then what? Everyone is so sad, so heartbroken that Narcissus is dead. And why? Because he was so beautiful. That's all the boy was. He was a commodity for his physical attributes. The only reason they cared to know him is because they wanted to possess his beauty, much like a parvenu may keep a bird of paradise as a pet. On that basis alone, that doesn't make his potential suitors any less vain or superficial than he was. His sacrifice is then made all the more tragic and erotic because of his comely face. The whole thing is despicable and it makes my skin crawl and it must be stopped!"*

In his fit, Ciel had knocked the empty plate off of the small standing table and onto the floor. Sebastian felt another pang of guilt as he picked it up. He had figured that the Master would identify with the plight of Narcissus, but he had not done very much to protect him from the stress that could put on his psyche. "I did not mean to upset you, sir," he apologised once more. He set the plate back on the table. "I only wanted to understand things from your point of view."

Ciel took a breath to compose himself before asking, "What is your opinion on it?"

Sebastian took his seat across from the Master again. "I honestly do not have anything to add. I only think that it makes it all the more obvious that humans wrote those stories for only they would feel entitled enough to lay claim to a stranger's affections."

"What do you make of the victim aspect of it?"

Sebastian tilted his head. "Victim?"

"Yes. In the exhibit, we were meant to depict his death, not any event leading up to it. We focused specifically on the moment when he fell in love with his reflection and how he met his doom. On top of that, we had all been kidnapped, caged and dressed very provocatively. What are your thoughts on that?"

Sebastian brought a loose fist under his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... There is a certain type of alluring quality that fragility holds. There is something inherently pretty about it. Like a lone rosebud in the snow. How is it that such a tiny, frail thing can survive in so harsh of a condition? The duality of that is very sensual. There is also a kind of innocence surrounding Narcissus, and perhaps it is because of the lack of crime committed by him in the legend that makes him all the more appealing. Innocent 'victims,' as you say, are so delicate and easily overpowered. But, mostly, I believe that humans simply enjoy the fantasy aspect. Just imagine: a water nymph and a river god. What a breathtaking beauty he must have been."

Ciel meditated on the Butler's answers, engaged in his theories. It wasn't often that they shared informal conversation. It was surprisingly enjoyable. "Do you think he deserved his punishment?"

"After hearing your argument, no. Before, if I am being honest, I did not give it a single thought. But now, I do feel that a curse may have been a bit excessive, as Greek mythology tends to be. So Narcissus would not have loved me. No skin off of my nose."

Ciel chuckled a bit. "Are you saying that you are in love with Narcissus?"

Sebastian smiled. "No. I am merely transporting myself into the story to illustrate a point."

Ciel rolled his eyes. "Sure." He knew Sebastian wasn't lying, of course, but it was fun to tease him anyway. Silence filled the compartment again. "How much longer to Manchester?" Ciel asked.

"Due to slippery rails, I would approximate two hours."

Ciel's head fell back against the cushioned seat. "Ugh! Green is so far ahead!"

"Think of it this way," the Butler consoled. "We know that he is headed to a specific location. Once he is there, he will not be going any further. And perhaps he thinks that he has already lost us. He might not even expect that we are still trailing him."

"I don't know, Sebastian. You heard what Samuels told him about us. I think he may be more clever than you give him credit for. He must have something up his fancy sleeve."

"Come to think of it," Sebastian said, "there has not been much done in terms of roadblocks. If he had stopped at the inn, I would think that he would have hired a few goons to detour us. Bribing the innkeeper and his patrons would not be reassuring enough."

"No, it wouldn't be," Ciel brooded aloud. "Once we arrive in Manchester we better be on our toes. I have the feeling that if he's already established ties there the city will be crawling with spies." They nodded at each other in agreement.

Some time passed in comfortable quiet. Sebastian read the headlining stories in the paper while Ciel read the business section. Always good to know how Funtom stocks were holding up outside of London. They were on a steady high, as always. Ciel folded up the paper and set it down.

"I'm going to use the facilities," he announced. He walked to the sliding door and turned back to Sebastian saying, "This time around, if I am gone for an inordinate amount of time, please do come fetch me."

The Butler answered with a balance of amusement and annoyance. "Yes, my Lord."

On his way to the loo, Ciel came across a smartly dressed young man who looked to be in his mid twenties. He stood still for a moment, staring at Ciel as though trying to put a name to the face.

Ciel stepped aside. "Pardon me, sir," he said. He waved his hand in the direction that the man had been walking as a signal that he should move first.

"Quite alright, boy," the man said. He walked past Ciel, looking down at him quickly before moving on. Ciel brushed off the nosy man's looks and let himself into the facilities.

On the way back to his seat, Ciel heard someone step out from an empty compartment just behind him and felt the nudge of something cold and hard against the small of his back. Judging by the rounded feel of it, it was the tip of a pistol's barrel.

The voice belonging to the pistol's wielder said, "You will come very quietly, alright?"

"Alright," said Ciel.

"And there will be no need to call for that butler."

"No need at all."

"Good boy. Come with me." He took hold of Ciel's shoulder and led him in the opposite direction of his compartment. The man, who must have been the one Ciel had run into earlier, walked very closely behind him to be sure that the pistol would be hidden from anyone who might go walking by. He led Ciel into the next train and stopped him in front of the first door on his right. It was not as grand as the luxury train, but still reserved for the well to do and so was thusly unpeopled. The man slid open the door and urged Ciel gently inside.

*I could go on and on, but that's enough pretentious pontification for today. I really hope that I don't sound conceited or anything when I explain concepts in this story. I don't even know why I feel the need to put so much work into it. It's just... moving on, Silvia. Moving on.

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER:

Ciel is interrogated by some of Green's goons. He then has a little brush with certain death and Sebastian saves the day LIKE A BAWS (or not)... or something. (See what I did there? ^_^)