Another chapter is upon us!
This one's just a short-ish interlude piece to set us up for the action in the next few chapters. The authoress hopes you like it, and please review...as a birthday present! (Really, I did just celebrate my birthday. Every year it always gets upstaged by Halloween.) XD
"That's it, then. He's won."
Lydia smiled to herself as she watched people running madly about in the cricket field below. Perched on the rooftop of the administration building, she had spent the entire day watching the matches, since there was really nowhere else for her to go. Her solitude was occasionally broken by Sebastian appearing to offer her food or inquire if she needed a coat, but the demon was very busy and he hardly had time to stand still. To be honest, the matches had been more suspenseful than she had anticipated. She had spent the entirety of them waiting for something to go wrong, since everything that could go wrong seemed to have been doing so since they had arrived at Weston. However, this time the drama had been strictly limited to what could be expected from a normal cricket tournament. Red House unexpectedly dropped out, pushing Blue House ahead, and then Green House had squarely beaten Purple House to move into the finals. Violet had told her when they first met that he was not interested in cricket, but the way he wandered dazedly about the field, one would think he hardly knew there was a game going on. He was probably terrified, Lydia thought, feeling a twinge of sympathy before determinedly pushing it down to concentrate on the final match, Blue House vs Green House. This was the key to everything they had been working toward.
Ciel held his end up remarkably well, she thought, considering all the concerns she'd had about him even being on the house team. In the end, however, it was Blue House's strategies and not their athleticism that won them the game. The hardest part of the match for Lydia was the final second, when Greenhill's bat grazed her brother's forehead with a sound that carried clear up to the rooftops. It made her flinch and grind her teeth together. Greenhill could have run, but he did not. He simply stood there, staring at the bloody mark marring the head of the boy he had struck, looking like he was lost in another world. Then Ciel crawled to his knees- just enough to lunge forward and throw the ball into their wicket- and the game was finished. Lydia watched everyone running- players, spectators, even members of other houses- euphoric at being present for Blue House's first tournament victory since Vincent Cantor had led them as prefect.
Now Lydia was staring at the medical tent into which Sebastian had carried Ciel as soon as the win had been declared. Had she not known that the entire "accident" had been meticulously planned, she might have risked leaping down into the tent to investigate Ciel's condition. But he would be all right. Sebastian would not let him be hurt. As if to confirm her thoughts, the tent flap opened and her brother strode steadily outside, the black-clad butler looming behind him. His team members lifted him up as if greeting a returning hero, and the crowd carried him with them to the front of the field, screaming, cheering, a cacophony of energy. She was too far away to see the expression on Ciel's face. She imagined he did not enjoy being held by so many strangers, but she also knew he would not break character at such a critical moment. She could see the Phantomhive servants in the background, cheering and stamping their feet. Lizzie and her mother and father, Aunt Angelina, Soma and McMillan, Edward and Cheslock- she suddenly wished she had a camera so she could take a picture of her brother surrounded by all these happy people, doing something any normal boy his age would do. She smiled, fixing the image in her mind before turning away to let Ciel have his moment of glory, however unreal it would later prove to be.
/
Several hours later, the crowds had spread from the field onto the grounds and the members of the Blue House team had retreated inside to prepare themselves for their formal boat parade up the Thames. Everyone was eating dinner as the evening hour approached. Soon afterward, there would be lanterns and music and dancing upon the sprawling lawns of Weston. Lydia was feeling a little lonely up on the roof, but she had taken a book of poetry from her rucksack and lost herself within its melancholy pages. Dusk would arrive before she knew it, and after that the dark…. The brunette peered tentatively into her rucksack, eyeing the drawstring ticket pouch she had received yesterday in London. She had discussed the matter with Sebastian several hours earlier, when he had a few moments to spare. As she'd expected, the demon was opposed to her going anywhere without him. Lydia, however, was just as strongly opposed to taking him with her and leaving Ciel behind unattended. In the end, they had done nothing but argue until Sebastian was needed back in the tents. The frustrated demon had made her promise to think it over more thoroughly, which she had been doing as she mulled upon the rooftop while the sky slowly dimmed. Now, as the first signs of stars began to pierce the fading blue, she had made up her mind. She was going to investigate the circus on her own tonight. Solving the Weston case would mean very little if they left the school only to return to an equally baffling and dangerous situation in their own homes. It was seven o'clock right now. She had one hour before she had determined to leap to the fairgrounds.
Lydia had just begun to feel her nerves tilting when the sound of footsteps on the rooftop stairwell triggered her peripheral senses. Crouching low behind a vent, she clutched at her bandaged arm and watched a blonde head of hair materialize above the steps. For one mad moment, she thought of Derrick Arden- and then the face belonging to the head appeared, and she relaxed in consummate relief. It was Edward, peering carefully about the rooftop for signs of habitation. The brunette stood and waved, and he acknowledged her with a smile. "You've been up here all along, then?"
"Yes, since this morning. It was quite a tournament."
"I'd say so. People will be talking about this one for years." He had changed out of his cricket clothes and into formal attire, his green tie emblazoned upon his chest. "I know I ought to be sorry Green House lost, but I can't quite manage it. We're used to winning in this arena. Blue House needed it far more than we did."
"You all played very well. You almost had Ciel, you know." Lydia laughed and returned to her perch on the ledge, indicating for Edward to join her. "I almost can't believe we really pulled it off."
Edward nodded, his face becoming serious. "So, with this victory….you have what you need to move forward, correct?"
"Yes." The brunette nodded stoically. "I have no doubt that Ciel has earned his invitation to the midnight tea party tonight. There, our case will finally be opened for all to see. You will be there with Greenhill, so I was wondering….I mean, Sebastian will be nearby, of course, in case anything should happen, but…." Lydia bit her lip softly. "Might I ask you to keep an extra eye upon Ciel, just in case I am….delayed in arriving?"
"Of course," Edward nodded smoothly, settling onto the cool stone beside her. "You needn't feel you have to ask. I want to see you two safely through this case to the end." The young nobleman cast his eyes over the lawn on which the students were beginning to gather. "Even if that means….everything at Weston will change."
"I'm sorry it has to be this way," Lydia murmured, staring at her folded hands. "I-"
"Don't apologize!" Edward exclaimed, startling her out of her gloomy reverie. "There's nothing you have to apologize for. You're doing the right thing, Lydia. I know that now. Actually….it's me who ought to apologize, really….that I wasn't able to do more to help you and Ciel."
"You had to go to school, and maintain your cover as well. I never expected you to give your full attention to our case. And you had your duties as Greenhill's fag…." Lydia trailed off as an ominous shadow crossed Edward's face. "How….has Greenhill been?" she questioned tentatively.
Edward sighed and, without warning, laid back suddenly upon the wide expanse of stone, staring straight up into the sky. Lydia gave him time to sort his words out of his mind. "Greenhill is….he is not….the man I thought he was. Not the man I respected when I agreed to be his fag. And the most difficult thing for me during all of this, harder than telling untruths or harboring outsiders, has been just….admitting that to myself." Edward closed his eyes and let the wind stir his hair. "I really thought he was the man I wanted to be."
They were silent for a long time, listening to the sounds of excitement rising from below as the Blue House team began to emerge in procession and march down to the docks, where they would board their boats and row to present their victory to the Queen. Although the light was fading in the sky, she could make out the figures of the three prefects- Redmond, Greenhill, and Violet- waiting to be joined by Bluewer at the steps. She wondered what they felt, knowing she was out here, watching them. She wondered if they understood how quickly the only life they knew was drawing to an end.
"I'm sorry that he wasn't," Lydia finally replied, tugging at the collar of her Weston uniform. "If it's any consolation….I think you're well on your way to becoming that man on your own merits."
Edward shifted his shoulders and sat up. "I….I don't really know what to say. I suppose I do the best I can. I'm just an ordinary person at a school filled with natural geniuses, so I often have no idea where I stand in comparison to them. They overshadow me so much, their shadows totally eclipse mine. Even so….I don't think any of us could hold a candle to you."
"Me?" Lydia asked in surprise as he smiled faintly. "I'm not a genius either. It took me forever to decide what I wanted to do with my life. Sometimes I'm still completely baffled. The fact that I have an education and a career is just-"
"Amazing, if you ask me," Edward finished bluntly. "Honestly, Lydia….when you left five years ago, no one knew what would become of you. In my family, we assumed the worst. After all, you had none of the advantages we were born with, and you'd been treated so badly in your own home…. But now….meeting you again has been like meeting you for the first time. You've remade yourself. In spite of everything, you've become someone kind and strong and happy. And then you came back to share that with your brother. I hope this doesn't sound odd, but…." Edward cleared his throat and ventured to meet her eyes. "….It makes me proud to look at you."
Lydia blushed chaotically and wracked her brain to think of a response. It was nothing doing. Coming from Edward Midford, who since childhood had been respected for his pride and honor, this was high praise indeed. Fortunately, at that moment Edward's eyes lit up and he leaned toward the ledge. "Ah look, they're lighting the lanterns!"
Lydia looked, and beheld a luminescent river reflecting paper-wrapped starlight. She had never seen so many lanterns lit at once. They floated along the river beside the Blue House boat, headed away from the school to where the Queen would receive them. In the boat's front bow, Lydia saw a small silhouette standing still as a figurehead, holding a bundle of flowers in his arms. She smiled and wished Ciel well as he went his way tonight.
From down below, a strain of music blossomed into a song as the first dances of the evening began. Lydia and Edward perked up at the same time as a familiar tune drifted up like smoke. "I'm sure I know this," Edward remarked interestedly. "It wasn't originally written as a song, though…."
"It was a poem by Bourdillon." Lydia nodded gently. "Set to music just a few years ago, I think. It's a bit tragic, but there's something in it that pleases me."
"I can almost hear the words." Edward closed his bright green eyes. "Doesn't it begin with, "The night has a thousand eyes….""
"And the day but one," Lydia followed, allowing her voice to catch the melody. "Yet the light of the bright world dies/ With the dying sun."
"Yes, that's it! And the second verse has the same tune." Edward nodded eagerly and they found themselves grinning at each other in a kind of shared merriment. It reminded Lydia strongly of their days as children, when one of them (usually herself,) was always dragging the other into some kind of unusual mischief.
She closed her eyes and smiled. "You have a good voice," she said, trying not to let herself sound too surprised. Coming from someone who aspired to be athletic, she would not have thought to count singing among his talents.
Edward shrugged abashedly. "I sing in the tenor section of my Church's choir. It's quite a lot of people, so they keep me on-key. What about you, do you….?"
"I don't sing in my choir," Lydia shook her head amusedly. "I mostly sing when I'm alone in the wilderness. There's nothing quite like an empty valley with a song to fill it. You can hear your own voice for miles, coming from every direction at once."
"It sounds ethereal." Edward smiled and gently nudged her shoulder. "What say we sing it again? This time as a round. I'll take the first line, you take the second, I'll take the third, and we'll both take the fourth. Remember how we used to sing nursery rhymes that way?"
"Let's see," Lydia said, and for the rest of the hour she and Edward did just that, relaxing between ground and sky and giving voice to a long-remembered tune from their childhood. The notes rang out alone and then entwined, and although there was no one else to hear them, they practiced again and again until their pitches harmonized perfectly. They sang the melancholy tune, occasionally interspersing it with bouts of natural laughter, until they had forgotten to fear the coming night.
The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.
