No one has to strangle me for taking so long to update; my friend Ray will take care of that for you, luvs. Enjoy!
x/x
"There you are, Ciel. Wherever have you been?" Tanaka stepped down from the front of the carriage to greet the young Heir as he emerged around the back gates. His expression was deadpan and his pace seemed faster than his usual saunter.
"Pardon, it was nothing." Ciel began to ascend the outer step of the carriage, eyes kept forward from Tanaka's wise gaze, but was tugged back gently by a gloved hand. "Come now, My Lady. You know we can speak of anything. Why not ride up front with me? Like old times."
One of the dark coated horses hooked up to the carriage shaft snorted as though giving it's approval of the idea. The disguised prince was led around the side of the carriage, and the thought of protesting against the grandfatherly caretaker flitted across his mind; it wouldn't be proper, one of the Royal Family Heir's seen riding in the drivers seat with a household servant at such an age.
And then a deeper part of him reminded that he truly didn't care about appearances at this point. At the ripe age of sixteen, he felt that streak of rebellion that all children feel at some point, his own internal rebel further spurred on by the limiting demands of the Household, and decided he would leave the consequences of his impulsive actions in his father's hands.
Carefully, he settled himself beside Tanaka in the small drivers seat and gazed off at nothing in particular as they began down the familiar dirt road at a slow, leisurely pace. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to indulge in light hearted memories from his younger days, when he rode to town with Tanaka as he ran errands for his father and the world seemed a so much brighter place. Ciel liked to think himself a realist, though lately he's been feeling like somewhat of a pessimist. Quicker than they resurfaced, the happy memories dissipated and Ciel was left to Tanaka's inquiry.
'As do you, My Lord.' The words haunted him, and that unnatural chill that had settled in his bones had yet to release their hold.
"Now," Tanaka leaned back in his seat, "tell me, what's troubling you, My Lady?"
What was the point in hiding anything from Tanaka, really? It was Tanaka, the man who'd raised him from birth when his parents had deemed him unworthy- his advice was God's word to Ciel. Besides, he knew the old man would subtly pester him about it 'till he spoke his troubled mind, and Ciel knew himself well enough to know that, should he not speak his mind to the elder now, he would only be prolonging the discussion.
"I met the new Knight today," He began slowly, voice deadpan as his navy eyes locked onto some unidentifiable point in the distance. "Mr. Michaelis?" Tanaka prompted.
"Yes... we sparred a bit in the training room-"
"Sparred? Lord, Ciel, you know better than to act so! And in the company of a stranger?" Tanaka's voice was light, but Ciel could hear the slight hysteria laced under his ribbing tone. Should light be cast upon his secret, the consequences would be dire.
"Well, I learned from the best," Ciel boasted, casting a side long glance at the elderly man beside him, "Wanting to demonstrate the skills I've been bestowed is only natural."
Tanaka ignored his reasoning and smirk, rolling his eyes. "I taught you those skills to defend yourself should you run across trouble, not to be a show off." Tanaka chuckled softly to himself, eyes crinkling with age. "Now why-"
"He called me 'My Lord'."
Ciel's tone was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to stop Tanaka short, his posture suddenly stiff. He seemed thoughtful for the longest time, mulling over options and explanations Ciel had already tried to console himself with, before he spoke again. "Mr. Michaelis has worked for many Elite households since he was a mere child, no doubt it was simply a slip of the tongue."
Ciel found it unlikely, but didn't see any other option than to calm himself and hope that things panned out in his favour. Seeing this, he sighed, "I hope you're right."
"I am sure, My Lady. But, perhaps it'd be for the best if you stayed clear of Mr. Michaelis. There are some unsightly stories about him floating about, best for you not to get caught up in all the talk."
Ciel's interest was piqued, his expression curious, try as he might to not look so. "Stories? Please do elaborate."
Tanaka laughed, waving Ciel off, and Ciel knew he would get no satisfying answer. "Nothing much. Simply rumors fabricated by those with far too much time on their hands. Though, I must say, I was quite astonished when your father told me he had hired him. Vincent was always quite the gossip himself. I thought he'd have bought into all that talk and sent the boy away."
Ciel found himself unable to respond, fully knowledgeable of his father's foolishness. Perhaps his hiring Sebastian was another testament to his lack of judgement and wit.
Once again, Ciel submerged himself in pleasant memories as he idly listened to Tanaka's kindly ramblings. Ciel glanced behind him, watching the silhouette of his confinement shrink and disappear. In his dazed, memory hazy mind, the castle was a home, not a punishment.
x/x
"Celly!" There was no forewarning other than the last minute shriek of delight, and a split second later Ciel found himself surrounded by a miniature golden whirlwind. Arlen leapt around the bend of the adjoining corridor, throwing himself into Ciel's skirts in an over-emotional hug, his childish nature showing through. "Arlen," Ciel managed to choke out, placing a hand to the lace above his heart. Lost in his thoughts as he wandered the castle, the last thing on his mind was a surprise attack from the little prince, and surprises were not exactly his forte. Arlen shifted his Texts to one arm, grinning up at him.
"I'm done studyin' for today, so we can play now!" Arlen grabbed at his elder 'sisters' hand, a sunshiny grin matching the childish twinkle in his eyes as he attempted to guide Ciel in the general direction of the gardens. Ciel couldn't remember the last time Arlen had smiled like that, truly, and found his brothers' bright countenance contagious and soothing.
"You've only just now finished studying? Have you been in the stacks all day?" Arlen's smile dropped slightly, eyes focusing on the polished tile before him as they continued on their way. "Mostly," he answered hesitantly, "I've been with Mr. Michaelis for the last hour or so, though."
Before Ciel could stop himself, a scoff tumbled from his pink-frosted lips at the mention of the Knight. Arlen glanced back, blue eyes wide with surprise and curiosity. "Do you not like Mr. Michaelis, Celly?"
Ciel mulled over multiple possible responses before speaking. He had to be careful what he said around Arlen; though the boy had a kind heart and would never intentionally betray Ciel, he was still only nine. He would repeat his words without thought, thinking only innocent intentions and simplistic situations.
"I have no opinion of the man, personally. Though, I must admit, he's a good swordsman."
Arlen accepted the answer, smile back in place as they exited the left wing and stepped out into the sunshine. "He truly is! When did you see him fight, Celly?" There was no hint of suspicion or malice behind the question, but Ciel knew that he needed to tread softly over this subject; give Arlen an answer that would satiate the his curiosity, then change the subject. That's one thing he enjoyed about his brother, he was easy to handle.
"I passed through the training yard this morning when I left with Tanaka. He was sparring Mr. Hastings."
"Oh," Arlen kept his reply short, his attention span drifting from the now uninteresting subject of his new tutor. "Look Celly! Butterflies! The butterflies are back!"
The golden boy threw his books and papers aside as Ciel took a seat on the marble steps, and thus began Arlen's epic chase of the orange creatures, grunting disappointedly when they drifted out of his reach and squealing with delight when they gave good chase. Ciel smiled to himself as he watched Arlen dive and roll around between the rows of flowers, twirling about as the multicoloured butterflies drifted idly by him in the wind. Surely their father would reprimand him later for allowing Arlen to dirty his clothes, but Ciel knew it would be far too long before Arlen was given a chance to enjoy a game in the gardens again.
As Arlen's interest in the undefined game grew, Ciel's drifted. On a whim, he shifted one of Arlen's Texts to his lap, glancing at the golden script on the cover before flicking through the thin-leaf pages. "Ancient Kingdoms, huh."
Ciel had always been interested in knowledge, though he had been denied such privilege because of his facade, and soon found himself submerged in the rows of ink as he read the stories of ancient rulers, of the kingdoms that flourished upon their founding and others that fell to revolution and war. As the young prince read on, he began to notice a horrid pattern that seemed to plague the monarchs of once-upon-a-time, and couldn't help but feel chill at his realization.
"Why are there so many murders..." Ciel began to flip back and forth through chapters of the book, comparing one rulers life to another. Though they were all so different, all their lands and back-stories varying, they all had one thing in common in the end; they'd been murdered at some point during their rule.
Ciel set the book aside, his hand a little shakier than it had been when he'd first picked the book up from it's haphazardly made pile. Murder and betrayal weren't uncommon among royals, especially during a shift in power and tensions, so why was he shaking and trying to console himself? Ciel blamed his unusual behavior on Michaelis; he'd been reading too far into every little word and action since his brush with the Knight that morning. If the man was aiming to play mind games, two participants made the game an absolute thrill.
"Arlen, let's head back inside," Ciel called, smoothing out his skirts as he stood. Arlen rolled onto his side from where he'd laid in the shade next to a row of red lilies. "Huh? But why? It's so nice out," Arlen whined, resting his weight on his elbows as he watched his 'sister' collect his Texts with rushed movements.
"It'll be dinner soon," Ciel began to carefully make his way up the stone steps, the clicking of his heels sounding like laughter in his ears. "You'll need to wash up and change. Come on." Ciel paused on the top step, holding his hand out as Arlen schlepped his way across the yard. With an angry pout, Arlen grabbed hold of his 'sister's hand. As Ciel looked at their clasped palms, he couldn't help but feel like Arlen was too delicate to handle, like a doll made out of fine china.
"It's not fair, I wasn't done playing yet," Arlen grumbled, chin tilted downwards. As the words left Arlen's lips, Ciel felt as though he'd committed a sin. Surely it wouldn't have hurt to let him stay out a bit longer...
Ciel continued to lead the young prince down the outer corridor, countenance frigid with self-loathing as he clutched the Texts a bit tighter to his laced-covered chest. "I know."
He really was like his father.
x/x
"Goodnight, Ciel," Tanaka bowed, shutting Ciel's bedroom door behind him as he made his exit. The candles set on the top of the dresser next to the door waved and danced, and the eldest heir watched them flicker and grin at him from across the room with dead eyes. With no need to keep a facade behind closed doors, no lace or frills in sight, he allowed himself to show how drained and ill he felt.
Almost without thinking, he turned to the looking glass placed across the room to his right, a pallid hand rising to cover his left eye from view where some form of lace or decorative cloth usually hid the deformity from view as he frowned at his reflection. The reversed doppelganger seemed to mock him from across the expanse of polished tile.
Resisting his urge to crack the glass, to throw the glittering shards and smash them into the prettily polished floor till they could reflect nothing, Ciel turned on his side, pulling the covers up to his shoulders, and willed sleep to come.
x/x
Ciel could handle nightmares; the dreams themselves were nothing compared to the corruption he'd already dealt with. It was the lingering feeling they brought into the waking world, that terror that continued after you had awoken and found yourself curled up in your own room, that Ciel couldn't stand.
When Ciel finally woke, he found himself unable to breath, the sheets monstrous minions sent by the tormentors in his dreams to choke the life from him as he struggled to free himself from their crisp hold. Placing the heels of his palms against his shut eyes, Ciel focused on his breathing rather than the demons haunting his dreams, the ones that seemed to be laughing at him from the shadows even now as he grappled for some form of composure. His calming methods did little help him regain his breath, and Ciel felt his panic rising.
With jerky movements, Ciel tore open the top drawer of his night stand, searching for the medicine that would give him his air back. When he reached the far back of the drawers clutter and found nothing of the sort, Ciel lost all sense in the fear that he would die by the hands of his asthma. Ciel threw his weight forward, managing to land on his feet, and bolted through the room towards the door. He needed to find someone, anyone... He left the room in his cotton night shirt, his sixteen year long masquerade pushed to the back of his mind in his panic.
As he strained to maneuver through the poorly lit corridors, his nightmares nipped at his heels, refusing to leave him. Demons in human form, red-eyed and clawed, stood above him laughing at the pathetic creature before them. The deeper into the castle Ciel went, the more real the monsters became, till he was sure one stood before him, grinning like a hellcat in the torch light of the abandoned hallway. His ragged breathing worsened, and he collapsed onto his knees at booted feet of the nightmare. A sharp pain jolted through his bones as the corridor seemed to grow dimmer by the second, and with a last flash of terror, Ciel realized he was going to die.
As he felt himself began to grow limp like a dolls fabricated appendages, the nightmare reached out and straightened him up so that his back pressed against the cold stone of the wall. Something rough was pressed against the lower half of his face, and the familiar scent of earthly herbs drifted into his awareness, soothing him and drawing him back into the living world.
Ciel began to cough raggedly into the fabric pressed against his nose and mouth, hand reaching out to hold the demons' arm in place as his air returned in overbearing puffs. His airways graciously reopened, and Ciel finally felt that after-effect that had accompanied his nightmare begin to wane. "My lady... are you alright?"
Carefully, the cloth was removed, and the feeling of relief receded, replaced by overwhelming fear. The auburn eyes above him -a man, not a demon or nightmare, he now realized- flickered in the low light amusedly. Ciel retracted his hold on the tall figures' arm as though the touch had singed his fingers.
"S... Sebastian...?"
x/x
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