Chapter 8: At Midnight
Excerpt from the Fae Folk Book of Common Law
I
The Otherworld is a land untouched by time between the mortal and demon realms in which the Fae Folk dwell. The Otherworld homes two groups of Fae, the pure and impure.
All Fae are equal, but some are more equal than others.
Frances held the fairy creature in her hands. A creature that embodied the light of the moon and stars. Frances was delighted.
Elsie was horrified. Fear flowed through her veins. She instinctively did what any good sister would do. Hurriedly, Elsie grabbed the nearest item she could to protect her sister. She grabbed a worn-out tennis racket. Very good. She swung it towards the fairy, but it was swift and wouldn't let itself be hit so easily. The little creature's laughs sounded like twinkly bells. It was mocking her with every swing she took. It flew over the banister of the bed, over the vanity mirror, knocked over a porcelain doll that shattered to the floor, and jumped onto France's toy chest. The fairy, much stronger than Elsie expected, threw a stuffed teddy bear at her face. The fairy hunched over its stomach and laughed a magnificent symphony of tiny bells.
It laughed so hard it fell over onto its side, wriggling its legs frantically.
Elsie huffed, aggravated, and decided she was going to squash the little thing. Suddenly, Frances jumped in front of the tennis racket that now stopped midair. She cried, "Don't hurt it Elsie! Please stop!" She coughed at the end and dropped to her knees.
"Frances." Elsie stammered. The racket crashed against the wooden panels as Elsie held her sister in her arms. Frances kept coughing, pressing a hand against her mouth. Blood seeped between the crevices of her fingers.
Sweat trickled down Elsie's brow. Frances' condition was worsening, and Elsie didn't help by swinging a racket frantically around at a willowy light. A light that kept mocking her with every laugh it breathed. "Frances, stay away from that thing. We don't know what that thing is."
"Of course, we do," Frances said. Tears welled in her eyes. "It's a fairy that lives in Cottingley meadows. Why did you want to hurt the fairy? Don't you believe in them, Elsie? I don't understand."
Elsie couldn't find the words in her voice. Her voice was quiet and still and trembled with fright. She reasoned it was too late to tell Frances about her hoax, she could explain the paper cut outs and photographs taken with Tommy, but this? This moonlight creature that Elsie or Tommy weren't responsible for creating. She couldn't explain this. She didn't know how.
Frances shouted. "I love all the fairies and I won't let anyone harm them!" She pushed herself away from her elder sister's arms and wobbled to the creature sitting amusingly on her toy chest. Frances cupped the fairy in her hands with her back-facing Elsie. Her hands trembling, weak but filled with a will to fight. "I won't let you hurt it!"
The little fairy, cupped in a human's frail and delicate hands, looked up to the child with intrigue. The girl's whole hair was the color of fresh wheat and grain. The fairy cocked its head to its side and smiled a crooked smile that neither of the girls could see.
It caught sight of the open window and sprightly took flight. Leaving a trial of shimmering blue dust behind it, only to dissipate into nothing. Frances rushed to the window and reached out her arm towards the moon, pleading for the creature to come back. To come back to her. Frances leaned over the edge of the sill. The wood creaked under her weight.
Elsie had to pull her sister away from the window and back into the room, with a heavy heart as Frances cried into the night. She looked out towards the window, towards the black midnight sky of England, and her heart stirred, thinking of what was lying within it. Something eerie and dark. Something ravenous ready to burst out and attack from the shadows.
Elsie clutched her sister tighter.
Throughout her entire hoax and scheme, Elsie thought she was bringing glimmers of light back into Frances' dark days. Bringing happiness and delight and a reason to look forward to new mornings and nights. A distraction from her little sister's terminal sickness. A distraction from the pain. But, Elsie reasoned as she cradled her melancholy and sniffling sister in her arms, she only waved a fragment of happiness in front of her face and snatched it away far too quickly before Frances could grasp it.
Elsie's heart sunk heavily into her chest. What a horrible act it was, to betray someone you truly love.
The carriage rode along the stone rode, bobbing up and down mercilessly. Carrying one young lord, one butler, and a coachman stirring the carriage. Ciel laid a hand over his mouth and wondered if it was a better decision to use the automobile than the carriage. His stomach churned as the carriage hit a fairly large rock. Enough to cause Ciel to curse under his breath.
He breathed and loosened the neck tie around his neck and huffed. He leaned his head against the side of the carriage and closed his eyes. Then he smiled. It has been so long since he's had some genuine fun, and the way Elsie smiled and laughed when they conversed about the play together. In the opera house, even if it was for a slight moment, he forgot about the audience and the crowd and their wandering gazes staring up at them. It was just him and Elsie talking amongst themselves.
Ciel rubbed his hand over his eyes, fighting away a blush. Ah! How foolish of him to ask for a kiss! What was he thinking!? Elsie probably hates him even more now. And right when the night was going so well, technically, before a silver tray smacked into his head right after he saw Elizabeth in the audience-
His eyes widened, practically popping out of his head.
Elizabeth!
Elizabeth saw him together with Elsie at the opera house. Ciel sunk back into his seat, wanting to disappear within it. He should have known she was going to be there. His fiancé who he has purposefully been neglecting, purposely postponing one wedding fitting after the other, purposely coming up with excuses whenever she sent him a letter asking for them meet. To meet somewhere private, or at least talk about their incoming wedding that was to happen eventually. Eventually…Ciel sighed. He loves Elizabeth, just as any young gentlemen should love their betrothed, and it was an excellent arranged marriage his late parents set up for him when he was born. His life was tediously planned out and so was his future. Ever since he was little, he knew that one day Elizabeth would be his wife. One day, Ciel emphasized. He just never assumed that one day would come so quickly. Now that this fixed day was approaching, faster than ever, it was becoming increasingly harder for him to imagine Elizabeth's face behind a white vail standing behind the alter. When he imagines the scenario himself, lifting the veil off his wife to be, he sees-
"Young master?" Sebastian's voice interrupted Ciel's train of thought, he resumed his one-sided conversation. By now, working for Ciel and around a nitwitted staff, he was used to no one paying attention to him. "It seems as though you are quickly progressing in your plans to expose Miss Elsie of her tricks. Pray tell, what have you scavenged after this trip to the opera? Forgive me, now you know her favorite genre of fiction, but I don't see how that aids our cause or Her Majesty's."
"On the contrary, this endeavor truly has been beneficial to both parties. Mine and Miss Elsie, as diplomacy is necessary in developing a better relationship to openly converse vital information."
"Of course, now you know what makes her blush." Sebastian laughed. He also learned to stop listening to Ciel when Ciel was no longer listening to him. Especially when the young Lord makes obvious excuses.
"Shut up."
Sebastian cleared his throat, shooing away the last bits of laughter within there. "First a dress, then a show, what's next? Will you two be walking down Westminster abbey hand in hand?" Oh, the laughter was coming back, and Sebastian had no intention of stopping its course.
"I command you to cease this ridiculousness."
Oh, pulling out a command now is he. A command that Sebastian had to faithfully abide by. It was stated clearly in their contract that he must. Darn, and he was having such as good time too. "Excuse me. My behavior is inexcusable and deplorable."
"Truly, it is." Ciel hissed.
Sebastian thought that he'd also make a remark about how beautiful Elsie was tonight and wondered how much and to which degree Ciel would flush. But it was too soon, and his young master was becoming quite grumpy, steam fuming from his ears.
Ciel spoke, mundane. His voice steady as water flowing through the Thane river. "According to Sullivan, she is attending to all her special patients and though they are stricken by the amount of time that has passed, they are future shocked, but they are adapting just fine to modern day London. Even the girl that venomously thrusted a knife towards you, a demon, I commend her courage for such an act. Very few individuals are capable of such an arduous task when coming to terms of what you truly are."
"Yes. Many people tend to cower and shrivel realizing the gravity of the situation. And cry…profusely." Sebastian has met a lot of crying humans. That was one thing they seemed to be the best at, that and groveling. Throughout his millennia on earth he has heard poetic pleads, cries for help, last rights, foul mouthed curses, and sometimes fainting at his feet. Usually, this happened when he tells his contractors of the price they must pay for his services. Just a small fee any ordinary demon would ask for. One soul to act as a token to cross the bridge to the human realm, and the other for them to eat. It was simple, yet humans seemed to think otherwise. Why on earth do they care so much for something they cannot grasp or see? And the only time when they do care is when they are old and frail and fear for what lies beyond the physical world. When he formed a contract with the young man sitting in front of him, Ciel acted unlike the other humans he's come across. There was a bit of shock, at first, which was natural. Then it all dissipated calmly and quietly and finally Ciel said, blandly. Oh, is that so? Understood. I'm not surprised, after all, it is only right to pay a servant.
Thus, was the start of their relationship, master and butler, and whatever else that entailed.
"The medallion," Ciel said. "The girl brought with her a silver medallion that was engraved with the mark of triskele, three intertwining circles representing triplicity. Common among ancient Celtic tribes. Taking into the account the reality of her being 'spirited away,' the medallion the girl held belonged one of the four kin groups of the Kingdom of Dal Riata of Scotland during the 6th century of the Common era. Cenel nGabrain, Cenel nOengusa, Cenel Loairn, or Cenel Comgaill. She likely originated from one of these groups." Besides from going on scandalous escapades with a newfound sweetheart, Ciel was also acting as the Queen's watchdog, researching what he could about the these found missing persons. "Though, contrary to the popular subject of fairies running amuck throughout England. I have yet to find one book that predates their origins and home. Fill in the gaps of these so-called fairies, Sebastian."
"Firstly, they prefer to be called by their traditional name, the Fae Folk. Secondly, they inhabit the realm that exists between the mortal realm and demon realm. The Otherworld. A realm that is untouched by time and space, hence allowing the Fae and the humans trapped within there to live long and extended lives."
"Have you ever been there?" Ciel inquired, curiously.
"Just as I needed a token to manifest myself in the mortal realm, I would need the same to cross over into there's. Luckily, I have not nor, do I wish to go there anytime soon. You see, my kind are not welcome in their domain. The Fae Folk like company of their own blood."
"Then why spirit away so many humans? Don't tell me they get bored of their own company just as we do."
"Who knows." Sebastian said, truthfully. "Humans that are fortunate to return to their own realm seldom remember the time they spent in the Otherworld, and those do have never told the tale. As far as I know. But I have encountered countless Fae in this realm before and I've asked what they do with humans they take, some are more willing to tell than others. One told me to mind my own business. Another called me a parasite. Then one told me he spirited away a portrait painter, so that he may always have new paintings of himself to embellish in his home. They tend to frequently spirit away persons of skill, those who mastered a craft or talent. Whether it be singing, dramatics, music, art, storytelling, sheep shearing, cheese making, hat artisans, toy makers, designers…" Sebastian caught himself babbling, then continued. "Anyway, the Fae tend to take people who have something of interest to offer. Perhaps for entertainment, or to have as servants. We're the same in that regard." Sebastian muttered the last part under his breath.
"Why humans? Surely, the Fae are capable of these talents, small and large, by themselves."
"You're not wrong. There are those among the Fae who exhibit great talent. But unlike demons, they are not driven by hunger, they are driven by passion and spirit. They crave what they don't possess. And maybe, they are envious of the one thing humans do possess that which they don't."
The gaze in Ciel's eyes hardened. He narrowed his gaze at Sebastian, coldly. "Souls."
"Precisely." Sebastian smiled a crooked grin. "The Fae may live very long lives, but they lack a soul to fill their hollow husks of beauty and glamor. They are capable of magic and they can recreate art and beauty and it all seems quite nice, but it will never have the essence of what humans can offer. Humans breathe life into their creations, which the Fae wish they could so. A human soul is miraculous and is capable of so many things, not to mention the taste." Not that the Fae eat souls, Sebastian was purely speaking from his own expertise.
"You keep saying they live long lives, I was under the assumption they were immortal beings."
"The Fae are like any other earthly creatures. They were created from dust and to dust they shall return. The Otherworld in which they dwell only halts the flow of time, thus suspending its inhabitants in a perpetual state of youth and health. Once the Fae cross over to the mortal realm, time flows in their bodies once more, even they can't stop aging just as humans can't. Although, even if they lived entirely in the mortal realm, they'd still outlive humans by several centuries. Still, no wonder they don't live here amongst the mortals. They too fear death, just as humans do."
"And when they do, eventually, die. I'm assuming they simply disappear."
Sebastian nodded. "There is no other fate for a being without a soul or heart."
And suddenly Ciel thought he too had something in common with the Fae. They ultimately have the same fate. Just as the Fae feared the flow of time, Ciel's demise sat smugly in front of him. But time is only an illusion, and Ciel only focused his days on what he could accomplish in the present and future. He welcomed it, gladly. "And what do you know of this phenomenon, of so many humans returning back to the mortal realm all at once? Don't tell me the Fae were bored out of their minds and returned the humans like returning gifts and presents they didn't enjoy back to the store."
Silence ensued and Sebastian thought, tentatively. "Just as England is ruled by a Queen, so is the Otherworld. I do not know who the Kings and Queens are, but I have actaully seen this phenomenon firsthand, during before the common era. It was an exciting moment for us demons, our lives are dull and only revolve around humans when we crave our next meal, one day there was a flood of humans appearing out of nowhere throughout the world. Many of us were curious as to why it happened."
Ciel's gaze locked onto Sebastian's, intrigued. Unwavering.
"The news spread like gossip amongst us." Sebastian mused, recalling a fond memory. "At that time, the King and Queen of the Otherworld died, and when that happens so does their hold of all the humans within their realm. Some of us swore we hear the cries and mourns from the sorrowful Fae crossover to our realm, but it was most likely our imagination that did so."
The carriage came to an abrupt halt, almost sending Ciel flying out of his seat (thanks to Sebastian.)
Ciel rapped his cane against the roof. The coachman was unresponsive. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Be careful my Lord." Sebastian said, unbuttoning his jacket and pulling out a knife that was once in the Phantomhive kitchen. "It could simply be an accident with the horse, or perhaps an unexpected visit from an ill-witted highway man. Stay here while I examine the situation."
Sebastian exited the carriage, carrying strength in each step he took. He quickly hid his knife back into his vest when he saw the coachman unharmed, with no highway man in sight.
"Sorry sir," The coachman said, running his hand along the horse's mane. Soothing her gently. The horse rattled between its steps, frantically. "It seems as if something spooked the girl. Could have been a wolf or fox funning alongside the road. Strange though as she is one who is not easily spooked."
Sebastian feigned a smile. "I'm happy to hear it is nothing more serious, but time is of the essence and my master grows weary with every minute waiting here in the dead of night."
The coachman understood and quickly strapped the harness around the horse.
A wisp of blue light flew in front of the horse, sending it back on its hind legs. Frightened. The coachman was knocked down by the horse and crashed on to the road, screaming. The horse raised its hooves in the air and they plummeted down towards the coachman. Sebastian seized the horse by the hooves and controlled the wild beauty within his grip. In Sebastian's opinion, horses do not have the same ethereal quality as it's feline counterpart. Nonetheless, the horse easily quelled and tapped his hooves against the cobblestones and neighed, calmly.
It was in that moment the coachman looked up to the butler with dazzling eyes. His heart throbbed. Oh, how he was forever in this man's debt. A debt that he was more than happy to repay for the one who saved his pitiful and inconsequential life, and gave it meaning once more. Oh, how he never cared for another man in all of the world until this very day.
Sebastian didn't, at all, care about the man goggling up at him. After several long moments of the coachman not letting go, he pried the man away from his embrace. Sebastian wondered if this was the type of moment humans called awkward.
The coachman spoke, his hands folded angelically. "T-Thank you, kind sir."
Sebastian payed no heed to the man and looked out into the dark woods. Scanning. Waiting for someone or something to come out.
"Is there anything I can do to repay my debt?" Sparkles shimmered from the coachman's eyes.
"Drive the carriage." Sebastian said, plainly.
"Yes, my angel! Of course!"
Sebastian wanted to laugh at the irony, but this man was really weirding him out. "I am only a butler." He replied.
As the coachman began a long and wordy, and incredibly poetic, internal monologue devoting his eternal gratitude for Sebastian. Comparing the butler to heroes of time's past and whose beauty that put the pastures of England to shame. Just when the coachman began comparting Sebastian's eyes to glimmering rubies, strange lights began to glow in the dark. Over the cobblestone road and emerging from the woods and sky.
Ciel saw the light from within the carriage and went against Sebastian's word. He opened the door and stepped out. Ciel gaped at the sight.
Sebastian's eyes widened as he caught sight of the creatures. Tiny, willowy creatures that embodied the light of the moon and stars. Sebastian whirled around and shouted. "Get back in the carriage!"
One small light floated towards Ciel. Ciel saw the creature that shimmered in his sight. It's wings and arms and legs and body. Was this a fairy?
A light flashed before his eyes. Another shot past his face.
Blood trickled down his cheek.
And a laugh that sounded just like the twinkling of bells followed soon after.
Ciel lifted his hand towards his cheek and felt the warm liquid seep between his fingers and nails.
Panic rose in Sebastian's throat. He yelled at the coachman to steady the horse and prepare to ride. He sprinted to Ciel, pushed him in the carriage and closed the door shut. Tight. He grabbed unto the carriage as the horses swiftly moved through midnight. Galloping over stones and gravel, briskly.
As Ciel was being tossed to and fro in the carriage, Sebastian drew his knife and sliced one of the creatures in half. The thing lost its light and dissipated into dust.
"What are these things (my love)!?" The coachman yelped.
Sebastian took out one after the other, the coachman thought he was incredibly cool. "Needn't you worry. Just focus on the road."
Ciel opened the curtain from the window and suddenly saw an entire group of winged creatures hurdle towards the carriage. Crashing into it and causing it to sway off the road. They continued to ram into the carriage. Pushing the wheels off the ground with every attack they could muster. And still, they laughed like bells. The inside of the carriage was as chaotic as the outside. A suitcase, a coat, a top hat, his cane, and other toys Ciel created but neglected to take out of the carriage, bounced and crashed and propelled themselves against the walls. A plushy of a stuffed duck plummeted in his face. Ciel spat out a feather and felt nauseous. This moment felt worse to him than the time sailing across the Atlantic.
A window creaked open from the carriage constantly jostling. It was only a slight opening, but one of the luminescent creatures passed through the gap and plummeted against the wall and fell on the cushion opposite of Ciel. The little thing, distraught, rebounded back into the air and around Ciel's head. Ciel flailed his arms in retaliation against the creature. Mischievously, the thing grabbed a strong hold of a lock of Ciel's cerulean hair and tugged his head to and fro.
Ciel cursed the creature.
It laughed.
No one ever seems to like the Earl, now do they?
Ciel caught the suitcase while it was being tossed in midway and slammed it against the creature. The feisty thing fell on the cushion with its wings dented from the impact. Ciel opened the case and quickly tossed the creature inside. It was only a second later when he latched the case shut, the suitcase rattled fiercely. Up and down and left and right. There was a lot of fight left in the creature, even with a dented wing.
As soon as they reached the Phantomhive estate, the wind whistled through the brushwood and the little creatures that so violently attacked and pelted themselves against them stopped. They stopped and were called back to where they originally came. They flew towards the moon and disappeared.
"We are finally home, My Lord." Sebastian opened the door and looked around the chaotic mess that surrounded Ciel. Ciel slouched down on the floor of the carriage, gasping for air and holding a suitcase tight within his arms. A case that constantly thrusted him against the wooden panels, the boy gritted his teeth when the case knocked against his chin. "What happened here?" Sebastian quirked his eyebrow.
"What does it look like?" Ciel said angrily, blowing a piece of disheveled hair out of his face. Life as the Queen's watchdog wasn't easy. He actaully wondered on some days that the job would cost him his life. Today was one of those days. "I caught one of these bloody fairies."
The Queen better be pleased.
Only monsters prowl the streets at midnight.
Rowan walked down the streets of London which was illuminated by dozens of streetlamps at midnight. How silent was the night, he thought, and how marvelous it was that humans thought of a way to bring the stars down and align them on their roads. It was clever of them to think of such an invention.
There weren't too many people in the city as there were in the daylight hours. Rowan appreciated that fact. He felt like he could actaully breathe, apart from the manure that infested and lined all the roads. Rowan covered his nose with a handkerchief. Humans really need to transition to automobiles as soon as possible, within the current century would be nice.
He was about to cross the street when a horse drawn carriage clopped down the road, claiming his attention. Rowan narrowed his eyes as he couldn't ignore the insignia engraved on the carriage. The engraving of the wolfsbane flower, a deadly toxin. It was the insignia of the Winter Fae court. As much as Rowan would like to ignore the occupants, it was his duty to stand by and bow his head as they passed. How he cursed this law and prayed they wouldn't stop by to stay hello.
The carriage slowed to a halt in front of him then stopped. Shit.
His head remained bowed as a window creaked open, just slightly. The streetlamps lightened the being hidden between its crevice. All Rowan saw was the wicked grin of an upper court Fae and it made all that much worse that they were personally acquainted with one another. Although, given Rowan's position in the Otherworld, is it seldom that there isn't a member of the Fae Folk that doesn't recognize him.
According to custom, he wasn't allowed to speak first. He had to wait until a pure blood spoke to him. And the woman waited and stared and taunted him for this fact as he bowed his head down before her. His neck began to ache.
Her silver hair gleamed brilliantly like snow. Finally, she spoke. Her voice was a cold as ice and frost escaped through her lips. Rowan felt a chill, not just from her magic, but from her personality as well. She mocked a bow in front of him, around her neck she wore a shawl made of white minx fur. "It is a pleasure to see you, dear prince."
Finally, he was allowed to speak. He feigned a smile, "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Isobel." Then he added, only out of the sake of courtesy. "Out of my homesickness of the courts, you truly make London feel more like home. You shine brilliantly in winter, but spring cannot help but capture your sublime beauty."
"I thank you kindly," Isobel's cheeks and nose shined a rosy hue, as if she just walked into a warm log cabin after escaping from the bitter cold. Although, she always looked flushed, a common trait among members of the winter court. "England this time of year is beautiful isn't it?"
"Indeed, it is."
"I've heard you've been spending more and more time in the mortal realm, my dear prince. So have I, recently I've been on the hunt for a new designer, one that could recreate the same dresses and shawls my last seamstress did. I would love for my stay to be longer, but I feel my body dying here. The mortal realm can be so exhausting."
"That is how time functions." Rowan stated, bluntly.
"Oh, how awful of me to forget!" Isobel half shrieked, half laughed. "I offer my sincerest apology for the death of your father and mother, King Gwyn ap Nudd and fair Queen Olwen. They ruled so benevolently and just during their 800-year reign. Oh, how it felt so short. They will always be remembered in the hearts of those who loved them so, especially in those of the Winter court. I can't imagine how heartbreaking it must be for you," She gasped. "Not to mention the passing of your elder brother, prince Arawn, just soon after. I heard you two were so close, I can't begin to imagine the pain and torment you must be feeling. How tragic. How excruciating. You must feel utterly hopeless, my dear prince. Don't fret, any other impure would feel just the same. Some have even gone hopelessly mad."
"…Thank you for your concern, but I am mourning for them just fine."
"Very good." Isobel said, drying a fake tear.
According to the book of Fae Folk Common Law, all Fae are equal, but some are more equal than others. That principle holds truth. There are two classes of Fae, those who descended from pure blood Fae and those descended from impure blood Fae. Pure Fae descended from the stars. Impure Fae were once humans.
Rowan used to be human centuries ago. But it was so long ago, he forgot what it once felt like to hold a soul. Now he just remembers it as a far-off memory, a lost fragment of himself he can never regain. Being an impure, and not of pure blood, once upon a time he was taken in by the royal family of King Gwyn ap Nudd and Queen Olwen. But that was another tale for another time. He shoved those memories back down in his mind, he refuses to remember them tonight. He refuses to show the pain that seeped within his being to the snickering pure blood in front of him. Waiting for him to show a moment of weakness.
"But that makes me wonder." Isobel said, caressing her white minx shawl around her neck. The head of the dead animal's eyes were replaced with marbles. They stared back at Rowan, unblinking. "It would certainly be a leap in Fae kind for an impure to take the throne as King. I don't think someone of your position is capable of such feet. Not that you can help it." She looked down upon him, belittling him. Scorning him. "Your cousin Lionel is next in line if you don't succeed in finding a wife, isn't that right?"
His cousin Lionel was 400 years too young to take the throne, but every pure blood supported the little wretch anyway. Because his cousin's blood wasn't tainted like his own. Rowan smiled. "I have actaully found my future wife and we are hopelessly in love." That was a lie, he just wanted to say that to see the scowl that fell upon her face. It was worth it. "I plan to wed her on the day of the summer solstice, as the Kings and Queens of the past have done just the same." That, and if he didn't marry by the day of the summer solstice he would be forced to forfeit his right as heir to the throne. That was another rule from the Common Law. His days on earth were running out.
Isobel clicked her tongue, and the horses began to jostle, ready to run. "For all our sakes, don't taint the royal line with your blood. Farewell, my dear prince."
"Farwell, Lady Isobel."
Rowan watched as the carriage rode down the street, distastefully. He scoffed at the sight. When he could no longer see the carriage, he briskly walked down the street, opening his book of shadows. His palm spread open wide and the willowy figures of light he originally sent out appeared in his hands. They told him their secrets, and Rowan was outraged. He let out the sprites he created and watched as they wisped through the night, intertwining between old brick buildings and homes. Vanishing into the alleyways.
Rowan had one destination in mind.
He saw the lights emitting through the bank, the bank in which his dear Scottish kin works. Tommy Hopkins.
According to bank hours, they were currently closed. Rowan hovered his hand over the locked latch of the door and whispered an incantation. The lock snapped open and he entered the bank with his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly.
Madame Dauphine was working at the desk when she saw the man appear through the door, shocked. She swore she locked it. She quickly got up from her desk and tempted to pull out the drawer which held her gun. She said to the man, sternly. "The bank is closed sir. It is better that you come back tomorrow when we are open to visitors."
"Of course, but I am not here for financial reasons." He said. "I would like to speak with Tommy. He works here, doesn't he?"
"Leave now, or I will be forced to call the Yard."
Rowan rolled his eyes. Humans were a chaotic mess of emotions. He gazed upon the walls of the banks, and his eyes fell unto a portrait that featured none other than the woman standing in front of him, threatening him. "What a lovely portrait. It simply captures your beauty, but it is missing something."
The woman raised her voice and her gun at him, as he walked closer to her. Unperturbed by her threats.
"Oh, I know what's missing!" Rowan said, happily. His book of shadows luminated within his hand, as he snapped his fingers with the other.
The gun clattered to the ground, with Madame Dauphine no where in sight.
Rowan huffed, pleased, and walked in front of the portrait of the woman. He leaned his head towards the canvas and heard muffled shouts and cries and screams coming from within it. Ah, he casted his enchantment perfectly. Rowan humored, "Do speak up my girl, I am having trouble of hearing you."
He reasoned that it was difficult to speak whilst trapped within one's own portrait. Oh well, Rowan brushed his hands and turned his head when he heard steps shuffling down the staircase. There was the man of the hour, the one he has been searching for.
Tommy was still dressed in his suit, but he left his jacket back at his desk. His collar was undone and without a tie around his neck and his hair was disheveled after a long day of working tirelessly. "Madame Dauphine, I've found the client's chart you asked for."
Tommy stopped at the bottom of the staircase and his eyes widened when he saw Rowan. His eyes widened in shock when he didn't see his boss anywhere in the room, only her gun that laid in front of Rowan.
"Good evening, my dear boy." Rowan said, smiling.
Tommy gravely spoke, his voice was husky and fierce. "Where is the Madame?" He approached Rowan steadily, eyeing the gun on the ground.
Rowan whirled and looked behind him then back at Tommy, humorously. "I believe she said she went for a walk. Hard to tell though, since her words were quite muddled. Maybe she drank too much gin?"
Tommy said nothing to the man. He knew for a fact Madame Dauphine doesn't drink and she doesn't go out for midnight walks, and finally, she stays in the office to finish her paperwork. She would never spontaneously leave before she finished.
Tommy looked quickly at Rowan, and then at the gun.
He charged towards it, sprinting from his steps.
"Tommy be reasonable. I only came here to talk." Rowan's words echoed through Tommy's ears. He was casting another enchantment, a skill he mastered after only one century of training. Not bad for an impure. Rowan's skill even rivaled that of pure bloods, not to gloat, but it was true.
Tommy's eyes hazed. He stopped in front of the gun, centimeters before picking it up. He slowly straightened his back, serenely.
"At least one of you listens to reason." He took a step further, stooped down, and picked up the gun. He held the manmade weapon in his hands, calmly. He had a plan, and he needed to enact it quickly. "Tommy, your employer has taken leave and will be back indefinitely. She told you it was urgent family matters. Remember that she told you that?"
Tommy nodded his head and mumbled. "Yes, I do."
Rowan smiled. "In her hurried state, she needn't want you to worry, for she is doing quite fine actaully." He looked over to the portrait and snorted. "So, don't feel guilty or find the need to search for her."
Tommy nodded.
"The last thing she told you was to go home to visit your family. A vacation, if you will. You must miss them terribly back in Cottingley?"
"I do." Tommy barely mumbled a whisper. "I miss them so much."
"You will go home and be reunited with them again and you will be so very, very happy."
Tommy smiled, falling deeper and deeper in Rowan's enchantment.
"And when you go home," Rowan sneered venomously and handed Tommy the gun. "You will kill Ciel Phantomhive. You take care of the boy; and I his demon."
Replies to reviewers:
James Birdsong: Hi! Thank you so much for your continuous support! And I'm happy you liked the chapter!
Tanaka-Chan: Thank you again! And I hope you enjoy the rest of the story too!
BBFan: Aw! Thank you so much! I loved reading your review XD Unfortunately, the play doesn't exist IKR I had a dream of it and incorporated it into the chapter. Although, King Oberon and Queen Titania rule over the fairies in Renaissance literature, and they are most popular in Shakespeare's play A Midsummer Night's Dream. And Danann originates from the Tuatha Dé Danann in Celtic mythology! I'm happy you enjoyed it XD
A/N: Thank you for reading chapter 8! I hope you guys enjoyed it :D
A lot was revealed about the Fae Folk creatures, and especially of Rowan's reason for being in England! Now he sees Ciel and Sebastian as a threat and enlisted -ahem-manipulated-the help of Tommy to help him 'get rid' of them both! Yikes! Do you think Rowan will succeed? And what did you like about the chapter? Your reviews revive my writing spirit and your support keeps the story going XD Thank you guys for the favs, follows, and reviews!
See you guys next time! Bye!