Chapter 4: Iron Scissors Clip Fairy Wings

It was then he held the fairy in the palm of his hand.

It lay there, huddled and scared and quivered.

For it was far from home,

And away from its friends.

He smiled kindly and the fairy was no longer scared.

It began to open its wings and look up at the man.

Its wings glowed like the moonshine from the stars above,

The man smiled even more.

Suddenly, the fairy realized its imminent danger.

The man cut off its wings with iron scissors,

Ground the wings into fairy dust,

Sold them for a hefty price,

And threw the fairy in a cage.

It stayed in there for all time.

Alone and Weeping.

Iron Scissors and Iron bars,

keep a fairy where it belongs.

Alone and Weeping.

Elise watched over her younger sister Frances as she laid, huddled in her bed. Frances was wrapped in her blanket and near the hearth, but she was still cold. Shivering. Teeth chattering. Skin as white as the gray moon, yet her eyes sparkled that of spring. Of tulips and roses and hydrangeas basking beneath the sun in a bed of soft soil. Content on looking beautiful. Spreading their roots and fanning their leaves. Shyly. Bashfully. Frances was even wearing a toy crown on her head that depicted these floral creatures of the sunlight world. She coughed once, then twice. Then she held a hand to her chest and grasped tightly as her breath was consumed by a ferocious beast of a cough.

It is a sad, but true fact that the prettiest of flowers are always the first to be picked with iron scissors.

The night drew painfully on when the young girl could not get any sleep, coughing endlessly. So, little Frances asked to be read a story, to ease her weak spirit.

Elsie happily complied and read her an adventurous story of mermaids, pirates, chivalrous and mysterious masked heroes, and Frances's favorite, fairies. Elsie spoke with a lively and chipper voice in the candlelight room, 'and the two fairies danced in the hollow grove of an old oak tree, together. Their wings sparkled as they caught the magic of the silver moonshine that lies in the stars above. Time stood still for them as they danced, and danced, and danced.'

"Elsie," Frances whispered softly. "Are fairies real? A boy at school told me they aren't and called me stupid because of it."

Elsie straightened her back, closed her book and looked through the window and above to the moon for a brief moment, "he's the stupid one for not believing. Fairies are very much real."

Frances smiled from ear to ear as she pulled her blanket closer to her face, "I knew it."

"Fairies are shy creatures and don't like to be seen unless they want to."

"But why Elsie?" Frances asked, innocently. "Why don't fairies show themselves to everyone when they are responsible for so much? People would thank them more if they could see them." According to little young Frances's mind, fairies are responsible for pretty much everything that happens in the country of England. They are responsible for glistening dew in the morning. They are the ones that collect the rays of sunlight in jars and arrange them into rainbows on summer afternoons. And sometimes fairies even keep the house clean, granted if a delectable sweet or two are left at the windowsill for them. Fairies, according to Frances, are the greatest magic to come out of England.

But it is a pity that even she, a believer, fairy enthusiastic, lover of magic, cannot seem them. Even now on the windowsill, there lays an almond cookie on a little doll's plate and a little cup of milk, the cup was the perfect size for a little mouth to drink. And there was even a napkin, folded neatly in to a triangle, because Frances knew that eating milk and cookies can get very messy. She was very considerate for any fairy guests to pass by her windowsill.

"Well, imagine if all the leprechauns became known to everyone. Suddenly, people would stop going to town to get their shoes mended and repaired, instead swarms of people with holes in their heels would travel to the forests and meadows to have the leprechauns repair their shoes for them! The shoe-smiths of London would go out of business!"

"Gosh," Frances said. "Leprechauns sure are considerate." This is when Frances thought it would be a good idea to leave out an extra cookie for a wandering, shoe repairing leprechaun as well.

"Not to mention the price of repairing a single shoe would cost as much as a pot of gold. That's a hefty price for anyone to pay just for the repair of one, let alone two shoes. People would be trading off their horses and chickens and farms just to barely scrape off a quarter of the deal."

Frances's jaw dropped. This was the moment when our dear young Frances learned that Leprechauns must be very skilled at what they do and that if they were ever looking for an apprentice, she didn't mind volunteering.

Elsie added with a wink, "that's why leprechauns don't show themselves to humans, London business would be flat as stale bread. They much rather occupy themselves with gnomes who live down, deep below in the ruby and diamond mines of England. They pay twice the pay expected of them and they even generously tip the leprechaun if the job was exceedingly well done."

Frances nodded wholeheartedly to the knowledge currently being passed down to her from the master herself, Elsie. How clever was Elsie for knowing all this information that not even those snobby, old professors in the universities know. Frances nodded to herself, adamantly. She was determined when it was her time to go to university, she was going to teach all that she new about fairies and leprechauns and gnomes! Then she her eyes opened then narrowed at Elsie, mischievously. "But that doesn't answer why fairies stay hidden."

"Ahh yes," Frances slowly dimmed the light of the kerosene lamp. She tucked little Frances in and gave her a goodnight kiss then whispered. "It's a thousand times more fun to keep a secret than it let it be known."

Frances yawned and closed her eyes and began to dream of spritely fairies and very, very rich gnomes. "I'll keep their secret with them if they would allow. I would love to see a fairy."

Then she fell asleep, dreaming of a sweet, sweet wonderland.

Elsie, minding her steps of the staircase, made it down to the kitchen with her father and mother at the table. Elsie began cleaning out and washing Frances's empty mug of tea and began to wash the pink stained rags used in her coughing fit today. Elsie scrubbed viciously as she listened to her parents talking at the table.

They didn't seem happy. Which was no different from any other night.

"Oh, what will we do Gabriel? It pains me to see Frances in such a state, she is so young. What will we do?" Anna, Elsie's mother, said with red brimmed eyes. She dabbed her nose with a tissue and opened her mouth to speak, but only a soft cry of pain came out.

Gabriel put an arm around his wife's shoulder, tenderly. "Don't worry love, the doctors said…"

"The doctors. The doctors. The doctors! What did the doctors say or do that dared not alter the course that surrounded our poor Jacob! God rest his soul, but it is happening all over again. I won't lose anymore of my children Gabriel. I won't let happen. I certainly won't. I'll beat death with my frying pan, until it becomes submissive and leaves my youngest daughter alone."

Gabriel spoke, "there will be no need for the frying pan dear. The new medicine prescribed by the doctors is said to be the best modern medicine of the era. It was even aided to help improve Her Majesty the Queen when she had a cold."

"But our Frances doesn't have a cold Gabriel! And neither did Jacob!" Anna flew her hands in the air and stood up, frantically. She walked into the dining room and sat down in her favorite chair, one in which she used to cradle Jacob before he passed away when he was four years old. He was Elsie's older brother and it pains her heart that she only remembers a fraction of him, while her mother remembers every moment he opened his eyes and breathed. Every smile that drew upon his face and every laugh that passed through his lips.

Gabriel hunched over his seat and rubbed a hand over his eyes, tired. And silently cried.

Elsie placed a hand on her father's. For a moment, he was not there. His spirt was somewhere else. Then he finally looked up at her, and kissed her hand. Then back his spirit went, only thinking of gloom and doom for the fate that awaits his youngest child. A fate that he lacks the power to change.

Elsie continued to scrub the rags until her fingers felt cold and numb from the water. She saw her reflection in the pink-tinted water. Her gaze drifted upward when she heard another cough, another aching hack that sent her mother hastily trotting up the staircase. Elsie looked back down towards the soapy water, caught within the individual ripples augmenting her image. Her mind hanging unto Frances's last words before she fell asleep.

'I would love to see a fairy.'

There was a young master in a young household who was doing a very arduous task at this beautiful hour that usually refrained from any sorts of arduous labor. He was thinking. And he was thinking very hard.

More than he has ever done, since he returned from the Tower of London with that pesky girl by his side, Elsie.

Ciel leaned back in his chair and stared at the pair of silvery, fairy wings in his hand. He twirled the cut-out paper back and forth, catching all the minuscule details drawn within in. The curvatures, the subtlety of the colors, the delicacy of the lines. Then he thought of the girl who owned them. He grinned a mischievous smile and instantly knew what she was and her agenda.

Ciel shook his head slightly and relinquished the ridiculous thought from his head. He recalled on the day he observed the lions and tigers with Elsie, they talked of rather silly things. They talked of a colonel stealing the crown jewels from the Tower of London, crimes and repercussions of sweets of all kinds, and then she called him unimaginative!

Ciel laughed to himself.

He laughed to himself! How dare he laugh to what that girl said! This is the girl who has all the papers mindlessly shouting fairies with stupidly high voices. This is the girl who kept stealing the front page spread from him, from his toy company, from his latest and most brilliant creations. This is the girl who made him smile a genuine smile that he thought he was no longer able of committing.

Ciel's thumb caressed the surface of the wing, and for a brief moment he wished it was Elsie's hand.

A knock was heard on the door.

Ciel quickly stuffed the paper wing cut out into a drawer and calmly called for Sebastian to enter.

And Sebastian did, with a tray of piping hot scones with a side of jams of all sorts, to strawberry conserve to stewed grapes to sugared blueberries with chamomile tea on the side. Sebastian dared not enter Ciel's office without such offerings and Ciel expected Sebastian to always carry them with him when he entered.

Sebastian cut open a scone and began to spread the jam, angelically as butler of his caliber can master. Spreading cream and jam never looked more like an art form than in Sebastian's hands. The art of creating the most delectable of desserts was one of Sebastian's many skills that Ciel particularly took notice of, and his only skill that Ciel properly complimented. As Sebastian began to steep the tea, he noticed an unusual read on the head of the household's desk. He quirked up an eyebrow, which was an unusual gesture even for a butler. "Do the morning paper's no longer peak your interest anymore, sir?"

"Nonsense," Ciel said as he held open the newest issue of 'magic monthly magazine.' Today's main topic of interest was 'fairies and where to find them.' There was even a picture of man dressed in mountain gear navigating the peaceful clay meadows in search of fairies. He was also carrying a fairly large net. Ciel scoffed. He is amazed how some people sink to new lows. "The sales of these types of articles have become popular within majority of the public's eye recently. It is advantageous for Phuntom Corporation to be ahead of the times and realize any arising competition."

A small toy company named 'Woodland Classics' has recently rose in popularity. They specialize in painted wooden dolls with frilly dresses and it is no surprise that their top selling toy are their prized fairy dolls. They have been dominating the market and flying off every shelf in London. Ciel flicked the creases in this magazine, slightly agitated.

"Competition has already risen for some time, young master." Sebastian said with a rude, but true smile.

"Yes, I know." Ciel growled. "But it would have been an unwise decision to mindlessly take part in a band wagon just because a topic of interest momentarily becomes popular. If the subject were to turn sour within the public's eye in the next moment, my company would sink along with it. I care too much for Phumtom's reputation than to follow fads."

Sebastian bowed with one hand over his heart, "I, too, care for Phuntom's everlasting success. Excuse my impudence."

"No, for you are also right. That is how majority of toy companies and others stay in business. It is a cheap, but most certainly not an outdated, prehistoric tactic. It is impossible to pick the new and favorite toy of the era. The people's favorite. The crowd pleaser. The show-stopper. The money maker. For some companies, following a band wagon is what they depend on for survival. No one knows the next big toy that will impact the market, not even me. I can have hunches, and guesses, but it's always a gamble at best." Ciel offered a single glance at his butler, then no more.

Sebastian humored this notion of humans. How fickle they are and where their interests lie in one moment than quickly in another. Ciel saw the demon's grin, full of teeth. "Are you to tell me that Phuntom's success throughout England, which is now spreading to all corners of the commonwealth, is entirely a gamble? If it were a gamble, then it seems that it is possible to turn any beggar man into an aristocrat."

"I'd wager 12 pence that it could not be done."

"I dare not take you as a wagering man, but why?"

Ciel bit into a scone smothered with jam as it tingled sweetly in his mouth. "Simpler said than done. New Money empty their pocketbooks at parties and spend merrily, while Old Money empty their pocketbooks at banks and spend cautiously."

"You are very humble young master."

"I am not humble. I am simply an old scrooge, weary of shaky business investments."

"But it is no exaggeration for me to say that your toys are very popular with the children all over the commonwealth. Even Queen Victoria's grandchildren are regular customers of Phuntom. To say you do not harbor a secret to success, is to say there is nothing miraculous of moonlight nights. Surely your rivals think you do."

"Well," Ciel said, "I make the toys I would have wanted to play with when I was a boy, but no one is rarely ever satisfied with that kind of answer. Harboring a secret, even when there isn't one, always keeps my rivals on their toes. Anxious and Afraid of being overthrown."

"Just how you like them."

Ciel smiled complacently as he finished his scone.

Sebastian mused to himself that humans can be just as terrifying as demons. He knows, since he works for one. A very bratty one. "Is the business of fairies shaky?"

Ciel opened the drawer and took out two important pairs of objects, the paper fairy wings collected by Sebastian and a pair of iron scissors. Ciel spoke in a sharp tongue with a sinister edge. "I just read in the magic monthly magazine that if a fairy's wings are clipped off they'll grow back in a split second, but if a fairy's wings are clipped with iron scissors then they'll stay that way for all time."

"Then there would be nothing special about a sad little creature locked up in a cage. Wings give it charm. They give an enchantment that entices the people."

"Yes, but remove the real wings and prevent the sad, little creature from ever flying away. From ever escaping. Slap on a pair like these, you have yourself the show-stopper of the era."

"Humans can be so cruel," Sebastian said, almost with a laugh.

"We only think of it as cruel, when we scornfully look to the first ones to do it. The first ones to produce the show-stopper. We call them cruel because we weren't the ones to first reap its success. Cruelty and jealously go hand in hand." Ciel looked at the paper wings then up again, "you collected these from whom again?"

"A boy named Tommy Hopkins, a friend to our dear Miss Elsie."

Ciel leaned back in his chair and smiled to himself. He can unveil the truth soon enough to the papers and finally stop all his fairy nonsense. He just needed a little more, legitimate proof, enough to send her and her family packing their belongings away from London.

Then, Ciel mused, he will clip the wings that brought her up so high and mighty in the public's eye with iron scissors.

And send her falling in disgrace for all of London to bear witness.

It was in the Cottingley Meadows where Elsie resides. The flowers flittered in the warm breeze as she gently passed her hands between them. Debris of golden pollen clung to her finger tips. She mused to herself that she was a bee, far away from the drama and complications of the big city of London. She was but a humble bee, busy collecting honey for the Queen.

No, even as a bee, she was still serving the queen. A Queen she will eventually disappoint.

It is Cottingley Meadows where Elsie resides to calm herself. To retrace her thoughts. To think of silly and idle and humorous thoughts.

And to commit to the same act she's been doing for months now. Elsie flew back her head and rested on the bed of grass beneath her. A bee flew and buzzed above, briefly mistaking her for a flower.

She tossed and turned and worried to herself. What will the Queen think when she finds out the truth? What will she do to Elsie when she finds out? Elsie sprang up immediately and held both sides of her head. What punishment will the Queen personally put on her!?

A branch snapped. A bush shuddered.

Elsie turned her head, fearing the worse. The Queen has read her mind and was here incognito in Cottingley to exact revenge for Elsie's deceitfulness.

In response, Elsie did the only thing her body could do. She picked up a big stick and prepared herself.

Suddenly to appear from behind the bush. It was not the elderly Queen, but a young boy with blonde hair and countless freckles covering his face from spending all day in the sun. He carried with him a suitcase and a smile. A smile bigger than Elsie's stick.

"Good afternoon, Elsie!" Then he looked at her stick, "are you going to be playing croque or something? If you are, you're not playing it right."

"Tommy!" Elsie yelled, "Don't scare me like that okay! I thought you were the Queen!"

Tommy laughed, "and what would the Queen be doing here in Cottingley? The outdoors isn't meant for her big, old breeches anyway."

Elsie gasped. No one talked that way about the Queen. Or about her breeches! "Don't say that Tommy."

"Or what? Will the Scotland yard come out and arrest me because of it? This is free speech and I am entitled to my own opinions." He shrugged.

"Yes, but as long as it doesn't condescend our ruling sovereign that governs our day to day lives."

Just then, Tommy took in one deep, deep breath. Then he bellowed a powerful wave that he lungs could muster up. The trees shook, and their branches quivered from his immense storm. "I THINK THE QUEEN'S BREECHES ARE HUUUUUUUUGE!"

Silence over swept afterwards as Tommy quickly drew in many breaths. This could have been the last time for Elsie to see her dear friend Tommy, before he was possible apprehended by the yard.

"Do you think the yard is behind this bush ready to pulverize me?" Tommy said.

Elsie shrugged, "and if they are, I sadly cannot help your case."

Together they peered behind the frightening bush and witnessed an even more frightening creature. It was a toad with scales and warts and moldy green skin.

"He does look like he's from the yard," Tommy humored.

"Yes, and he looks really angry too. He looks like he may jump at you any minute. Tell her majesty I said hello."

"I think I'll tell her majesty about her breeches, someone has too."

Just then, the frog jumped forward and gave Tommy a frightful jump and Elsie a good laugh.

"It doesn't think so!" Elsie laughed, holding her hands over her stomach. Tommy, utterly humiliated in the peak of his boyhood, tossed the frog into the near by river. It swam off happily.

Apparently, the security about Queen Victoria's breeches was a very, very tight issue. Tommy laughed to himself. Just then, the sun caught the perfect angle behind Elsie's head, creating a halo fit for an angel. He opened up the suitcase and took out his camera.

And snapped the photo of a real-life angel. To him, anyway.

"Tommy, don't waste footage. We have a lot to do today and the papers need another picture for the front page. Apparently, they want at least twice the number of fairies in this one than the last." Elsie said, worryingly.

"Don't worry, Elsie. I'll give you another show-stopper." He said with a wink. Together, they leaned over the opened suitcase and all their tools and possibilities laid out in front of them. There are stacks of fairy cut outs from coloring books, bundled stencils of fairy wings in varying shapes and patterns, pins and needles to hold up the cut outs to make them stand even and still when taking a picture. All the tools in their small suitcase, implemented and planned together, fooled all of London.

"I know I can't keep these at my home or else Frances will spot them. She's has an eye for finding things meant to stay hidden. What about you? You haven't let anybody seen these right?"

"Pssh!" Tommy gestured. "Have a little more faith in me Elsie. I never let the case out of my sight. It's as safe with me as money is with a bank."

"That's makes me worry," Elsie sighed.

The first picture they took was at the river. Elsie lifted up her dress and revealed her ankles as she wet her feet in the cool water. Tommy pinned several cut outs of dancing fairies next to the rocky shore to make it look as if they were joining Elsie in the water. Splashing, playing, and enjoying the summer sun.

The second picture they took was beneath the shade of an old oak tree. Tommy pinned several fairies to the bark, ones that looked mischievous and tricky. They leaned into Elsie's ear, as if telling her their deepest secrets they could only trust her with. And in return, Elsie offered a listening ear and gave a surprised, but euphoric look. She was just as mysterious and just as cunning as they were. A solid oath between them both, that no secrets were ever leaving from the shade of the old oak tree.

The third picture they took was next to a fallen log. Elsie nestled comfortably towards it. Resting her hands and arms in its embrace. She looked to her right and a fairy laid down on the log facing Elsie. It looked up at her, marveling in her human companion. There were many resting fairies pinned to the log, Tommy positioned them just right. Suddenly a gust of wind escaped through the meadows and over swept the fairies from their places. Sending the paper figurines flying.

Tommy and Elsie, pinned them down again with a little more force. The wind continued to roll through the trees and even through Elsie's hair. She kept trying to keep it in place for a decent picture. There were even a few leaves too, courtesy of the wind.

"Let me," Tommy put down his camera and walked towards Elsie. He stood in front of her and gently picked each leaf out from her hair then another. Bit by bit. Once there was a time, when Elsie and Tommy were the same height, but it seems that she can only reach his collar bone now for he has grown quite a bit. She looked up, and saw a light stubble on his chin, like that of her father when he doesn't shave in the morning. Then he caught her gaze and she looked away.

"Almost done?" She said, with a blush on her face she could not help controlling.

"Just a few more."

She knew Tommy Hopkins for a very long time. They were childhood friends, because his father would deliver milk to all the households in the village and his since mother was friends with her mother. It would only be natural due to inevitable play dates through maternal figures that they would end up becoming familiar with each other.

They finally became friends when Elsie dared Tommy to jump over a mud puddle, but when Tommy fell in and Elsie was the only one laughing; He pulled her in and then they laughed at each other's muddy faces together. Their friendship blossomed afterwards.

Now, he was helping her commit London's number one crime: Fairy Fraud.

Elsie was about to thank him for all that he's done to help her, but he unfortunately spoke first. "What does Frances think of the photos?"

"She absolutely adores them." Elsie smiled. She was doing all this for Frances. To see that smile on her face, to give her what she always wanted to see, fairies. Elsie could care less about the newspapers in London, the Queen, her people, her watchdog….Ciel. She thought of Ciel Phantomhive with a fluttering feeling in her heart. Or a painful ache. No doubt he suspects what's going on in Cottingley meadows. She is positive he can see through a little camera flash and glamor. Elsie could even bet that he was going to expose her for all the lies she spun to the media when he finds out.

"I'm happy to hear that."

She sighed and remembered how she got herself into this deep, deep, deep mess.

The first photo she took was the day after Frances had another coughing episode and the doctor's said there was nothing more they could do. All they could do was through her a bottle of medicine and preach its wonders. All those wonders made Frances convulse in her sleep. So instead of seeing her darling little sister suffer, she grabbed her father's camera, paper and scissors and stencils hidden in her basket, and went out to Cottingley to supposedly take pictures of birds, but she was going to accidentally find an even more beautiful creature.

She was going to find a fairy and show it to little Frances. And that smile upon Frances's face, the joy radiating within that little girl, was enough to overshadow the constant cloud of death that loomed above her. It was the first time Frances jumped out of bed and towards the window, already looking for fairies from her room which she calls her dreadful tower. Frances was happy. Elsie couldn't ask for anything else than a happy sister.

So, Elsie went back and forth from Cottingley, taking pictures of fairies she would meet on her journey. Always bringing new drawings and stencils and fabric and pins with her, hidden at the bottom of her basket.

It wasn't long before her mother and father became skeptical and began to show the pictures to professionals, asking them if they were indeed real. In the presence of Frances, Elsie said they were authentic, in hopes of keeping the magic alive for her sister. Though, she did not think the pictures would ever leave the confides of the house.

Elsie thought wrong.

They were taken to scientists and investigators and mystical amateurs. Of course, these experts specialized in all things supernatural and otherworldly. When they gazed upon the pictures of Elsie and the fairies, they knew without a doubt, they were one hundred percent authentic. Then they sent the pictures to their colleagues, who sent the pictures to their friends, who then sent them to the printing press that prints the infamous London Gazette newspaper. History was set in stone after that.

It didn't take long when the papers asked Elsie for more pictures of her and the fairies together, she could only trust one person to aid her, and that is her friend Tommy Hopkins. Who is as skilled with a camera as he is mending a horse's shoe.

"Elsie."

Elsie jolted upright from the response. "Yes Tommy?"

"I'm all done, you're perfect." He blushed suddenly. "I mean, your hair is perfect."

"Oh," Elsie blushed. "Thank you." As soon as she got back in position, Tommy grabbed unto her hand. His touch was kind and gentle.

"There's something I need to tell you first."

"Go ahead or wait till after the picture is taken. We need all the light day has to offer—

"Elsie!" Tommy proclaimed as he took hold of both of her hands. Just then, Elsie realized that his hands have gotten bigger than hers too. "Please! Marry me!"

"What?"

"I know I am simply the son of farmers and I know your parents wouldn't want you being a farmer's wife, plowing the fields and breaking your back, but I have studied under a friend of my uncles and in turn earned an apprenticeship under a highly successful business woman in London."

"…Congratulations Tommy. I'm happy for you…"

Tommy shook his head, "No, I couldn't more devastated. I heard that she is very tough and I will be forced to work even longer days and nights than I have done before on the farm, but I am doing all this for you Elsie! So that I may one day become someone suitable to be called a husband!"

Elsie wanted to shy away, but couldn't find her steps, particularly because she was tripping over her long dress. She knew she should have hemmed the bottom beforehand. "It would break my heart for this opportunity to bring you so much discomfort. Don't risk your expense in due to mine."

"I love you Elsie Wright! One day, it would bring me the greatest joy, if you were to accept to becoming Miss Elsie Hopkins."

"But we are too young to even think about marriage."

"I know, but with these words I confess to you my feelings. For I fear another man may steal you away from me one day in the future. You're beautiful Elsie, even a blind man would be able to tell. Your beauty, your kindness, your compassion glows radiantly like the sun. You draw everyone in who comes near." Tommy leaned in closer. "You draw me in more, each and every day."

Elsie leaned further against the tree. Where was this all coming from? This wasn't the Tommy she knew. The Tommy that jokes around with her and laughs when she has a raisin stuck in-between her teeth "…I don't know what to say."

"Say that my feelings are well requited. Say that you will marry me." Then Tommy whispered a voice so softly, it could have been silenced by a humming bird's wings. "say that you love me."

He brought her hands closer to his lips. And for a moment her mind betrayed her, his lips looked soft and gentle and she wanted to feel them against her own. But she didn't. She pulled back her hands and breathed shallow breaths and stepped away from Tommy.

"We're done taking photographs today." She said quickly, stuffing the paper fairies and their pins back into the suitcase. She dared not look at Tommy, this was all going too fast. "Agh!" She winced as she pricked her finger on one of the pins. As she reached for a cloth, she was met with another by Tommy.

He dabbed and wrapped a small piece around her finger and smiled. "I'm sorry, it was selfish of me to surprise you this way. But I've held it in for so long and after hearing about my apprenticeship in the letter this morning, I knew…I knew I couldn't keep it a secret no longer." Tommy kissed her bandaged wound and Elsie could feel the tips of her ears heating up. "You don't need to give me an answer now, but I will be leaving for London soon and I will no longer be here by your side."

"How long will you be gone?"

Tommy looked away, "indefinitely, at the moment."

"Tommy…"

"Or maybe my master will look twice at me when I arrive and send me back with the luggage." He laughed at himself.

"Oh Tommy," Elsie placed a hand on his cheek and she wondered how one summer made him look so mature. "Value yourself more. In your life, you've done so much good for other's than you have done for yourself. You've done so much good for me in these past months that could make up an entire lifetime, I hope this endeavor to London will fulfill in more ways than you can imagine."

"Thank you, Elsie. But please. Think about what I said. I don't expect an answer now, but that would be nice. I'm not going to lie." He rolled his shoulders.

Elsie smacked him on the shoulder and they both erupted in laughter.

And she did promise.

She promised to think about his proposal.

Elsie was alone in Cottingley, after Tommy left with the suitcase. Elsie held the camera and plates in her basket as she wandered the meadows by herself and thought and thought.

This was the first time she ever thought of Tommy in this sort of way. In this romantic sort of way. He was always a friend, a brother to her. How could she think of him any different now? She wondered what changed inside of Tommy to think of her in this way.

She let out a sigh and swung her basket to and fro. She'll definitely need a new cameraman to help her take the photos, or she should buy one of those camera's that times pictures before they are taken. Yes, that seems like a promising investment, but she will need the extra money. She does have a few shillings hidden beneath her bed. And she could ask her father-

"Oooh! Who are you?!" Elsie demanded as she gawked at a man with cylindrical spectacles over his eyes the size of saucers! They were attached to a funny looking pulley which was attached to his helmet then to his head! He took a magnifying glass and examined the ground. And each blade of grass. He glided his finger over one and observed, cautiously.

"There seems to be slight traces of fairy dust on this blade of grass." The man hypothesized. "I am surely closer to the fairies now."

Just then, another man and woman appeared through the trees. Carrying with them giant hand nets (the size of the Queen's breeches. Shame on Elsie for thinking such a sacrilegious thought. She has no one else but Tommy to blame.)

"I see one!" The woman said. "I see a fairy over in that tree!" Suddenly, a frenzy of nets swished continuously throughout the air. The man, now sampling the fairy dust with his mouth, jumped up from his spot and joined them in their quest.

To their dismay, they only caught a butterfly. But it is common fairy knowledge that when a fairy knows its being hunted, it trades places with a butterfly.

Oh, these humans knew all these silly fairy tricks. And on they continued in search of a fairy!

Elsie maneuvered her way past these odd people and off she went back home, only to find more and more of these odd people on her way.

And to her astonishment, leading these group of people was the boy with the cerulean hair and enticing gaze. He walked confidently with his cane as his butler followed behind him. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought a few friends with me."

"A few?" Elsie questioned. "There is at least fifty people here."

"Yes, fifty of Phantomhive's closest friends."

Sebastian laughed to himself, Ciel gave him the order to find England's most enthusiast and obsessed fairy lovers and invite them on an outing with the Earl of Phantomhive. In actuality, Ciel has never met any of these individuals at all in his life. Nor would he ever under normal circumstances. Sebastian thought it was an impressive skill to make fifty close friends within a time span of fifteen minutes.

"Ciel!" Elsie said, then someone's makeshift fairy wings bumped into her back. Apparently, they wanted to channel their inner fairy.

"Yes, my dear Miss Elsie." Ciel said, smirking deviously.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" He said as Sebastian handed him a net from behind.

Elsie felt the insides of her stomach curdle horribly.

"I'm here to catch a fairy."

Hi! Thank you for much for reading! So! Are you surprised with Elsie's secret? And are you on Team Ciel or Team Tommy LOL I really hope you guys liked reading this chapter , I'd love to hear your thoughts! And don't worry there will be MANY more surprises in the chapters to come!

I have also made a tumblr blog for the story too! The url is 'aroseforelsie' dot tumblr dot com. There are a few posts on there already, but I will post more things likes art for the story, quotes, chapter/story updates, etc.

Thank you for reading and see you next time!