Hai! So happy to finally get this done; I've been trying to find time to write all week!
Moony: Cut the crap, you were reading Hetalia fanfics.
Was not! . . . AMERICA! Anyway, today is January 6, so tomorrow is my birthday! So be generous, dear readers! Plot twists galore lie ahead, so read on!
Moony: *checks* Nope. Maya still doesn't own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler.
They were ready, Anya was sure of it. The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon, and the beautiful light turned the hall into a kaleidoscope of fiery festivity. The crimson poinsettias seemed to glow in the orange light, and the candlelight flickered magnificently. The silver and china were placed and polished, the food was cooked to perfection, and the Phantomhive household was fully prepared to welcome guests.
They were not prepared to welcome Lady Elizabeth Midford. Nothing could have prepared them for that.
"Ciiiiieeeeeel!" she screamed, throwing herself at her cousin. "Why haven't you visited in so loooong?" Ciel managed to pull his fiancé off of him before straightening his shirt.
"You had the flu, remember? And I've been very busy, Elizabeth. Her Majesty has had several cases that have needed my-"
"It's Lizzie," she pouted. "Elizabeth isn't cute at all! Call me Lizzie!"
"… Lizzie, I'm sorry I haven't visited more often, but things really have been quite busy here." Ciel took her hands, trying to be serious with her. "Part of the reason we're having this party is to take a step back and catch up with each other. Is that okay?"
Anya watched the scene unfold with the other servants by her side. She couldn't help but grin at the change in Ciel's attitude. He handled Lizzie so well, like she was a young child. He knew exactly what to say to make her happy.
"Okay3!" Lizzie smiled. "Happy Christmas Eve, Ciel!"
Ciel smiled and gave her a gentle hug. "You too, Lizzie."
"Now," he said, directing Lizzie toward the stairs. "Sebastian will take your things to your room, so you should go and get ready for the party."
"Okay," she nodded. "But what should I wear?"
Ciel sighed, having anticipated the question. "Why don't you follow Anya to the wardrobe room and let her help you pick out a dress?"
Lizzie's face turned into a big question mark. "Who's Anya?"
Ciel found his servants waiting by the stairs and nodded to Anya. The maid stepped up to them and bowed. She was going to avoid wearing a dress for as long as possible. If no one said anything to her to make her change clothes, that would be even better.
"It's an honor to meet you, Lady Midford. I'm Anya, and I just started work here a few months ago." She gave Lizzie a friendly smile. She really is adorable, Anya thought. It's no wonder Ciel looks so smitten with her!
Lizzie blinked, and then squealed with delight. Without another word, she linked arms with Anya and dragged her upstairs to the Dresses Room. As they left, the rest of the household heard only the words, "So Anya, how do you feel about the color pink?"
Bard bowed his head, praying for the maid's safety.
"Excuse me, young master," Mey-rin piped up. "Maybe I should follow them, just to make sure that Anya's alright."
"That's actually a very good idea," Ciel admitted. "I did warn her, though. Be quick, and try not to get caught as well." Mey-rin curtsied, and hurried to her friend's rescue. Ciel turned to his remaining staff; Bard, Finny, and Tanaka.
"The other guests won't start arriving for another thirty minutes or so," he told them. "Mr. Tanaka, please watch the door for early arrivals. Bardroy, Finian, please go change into something more suitable."
"Hold on, your Lordship," Bard protested. "Why are we dressing up? No one said anything about formal wear."
"I know for a fact that Anya and Mey-rin won't escape the wrath of my fiancé," Ciel countered. "They will undoubtedly be dressed formally by the time the party begins, and you two will stick out if you're the only ones not dressed out." The explanation was plausible enough, and very true. But Ciel had the twinkle of mischief in his eye. He was planning something, and the young men before him had an unsettling feeling that it involved them.
"A-Alright, sir." Finny backed up slowly. "We'll just… go change, now." He turned to walk away, and missed the wink that Ciel tipped to Bard. The chef blinked, and then realized what it was that the young master was getting at. He gave a thumbs up to Ciel before chasing after Finny. The older man put a brotherly arm around Finny's shoulders.
"So Finny, anything special planned this fine evening?" he asked innocently.
Finny looked up at his friend, his face slowly turning red. "Well, actually…" He looked at his shoes, unable to get the words out.
"Say no more, my young lad," Bard intoned sagely. "Just let Uncle Bardo give ya a few bits of advice…"
"Oh, isn't it so adorable?" Lizzie squealed, twirling in front of the mirrors. The bright pink dress was as poufy and frilly as any dress that Anya could imagine. She couldn't even imagine being forced into it, let alone wearing it willingly. But the monstrosity actually suited Lady Elizabeth; the rosy color brought out highlights in her strawberry blonde hair.
"It looks lovely, my lady," Anya mused. She circled Elizabeth, considering the outfit. "It needs something, though. Oh, what about this?" She pulled a purple sash from the wrack, and tied it around Lizzie's waist with a cute bow at the back.
"Wow," Mey-rin and Lizzie exclaimed together. Somehow, the splash of color provided a contrast for Elizabeth's jade green eyes without taking away from the cuteness of the outfit or the emphasis on her curly golden hair.
"That settles it," Lizzie decided. "This is the one." She suddenly tackled Anya, showering her with hugs and praise. "Are you sure you want to work here? You could come to my house and we could play dress up all the time!"
Anya somehow managed not to grimace. That would fun, she thought dryly. Nothing but clothes, clothes, and more clothes. And there was no way she would leave… all of her friends.
"I'm honored, my lady, but my place is here."
"Well, okay…" Lizzie looked closely at Anya's face. Her eyes lit up at what she saw there. "There's a boy, isn't there?"
"W-What?" Anya gasped. "What would make you-?"
"I'm very familiar with these things," Lizzie boasted. "I can tell just by the look in your eyes; you were thinking about a boy just now! Come on; who is it?" She plunked the helpless maid into one of the chairs spread around the room and pulled up another chair to sit beside her. She waited, eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Anya blushed heavily, fingering at her hair bashfully. "Well, you see… I- I think I like this boy very much, and I think he likes me, too. "
"Yes, yes," Lizzie huffed, motioning Anya to continue. "But who is it?" Anya sat rigidly, silent.
"Fine," Lizzie smirked. "Mey-rin can tell me!" she looked to the flustered maid.
"Well, er, you see, Lady Elizabeth-"
"Alright," Anya sighed. "Don't torture her, milady. It's… well, it's Finny. I care for him very deeply, but we're best friends. I just don't know how to tell him." And she really had no idea. How do you tell someone who has made you laugh, helped you recover from traumatic experiences, saved your life, and been your best friend that you are in love with them?
"But that's perfect!"
"You've lost me, my lady."
"Isn't it obvious?" Lizzie gushed. "Anya, it is Christmas Eve! Tonight is the most romantic night of the whole year, and you're going to waste it? I won't allow it!" She towed Anya to her feet, pushing her toward the dress racks.
"Mey-rin, I need you to help, and then we're getting you dressed, too. We can't let Mr. Bardroy wait forever, can we?" Lizzie winked, and Mey-rin nodded coyly, crimson faced. "Then let's get to it! The girls are taking over tonight!"
Finny squirmed; he wasn't comfortable without his hat covering the back of his neck. Bard had assured him that between the collar of his tuxedo jacket and his combed back hair, no one would see the brand. Even so, he felt exposed. Yet at the same time, he was also getting very claustrophobic.
"Bard," he whined. "We look like Sebastian!" They were both outfitted in smart black suits; without tailcoats, of course. Their shoes were polished so much that the light shining from them hurt Finny's eyes. In their shabby little bedroom, he felt gawky, awkward, and grossly overdressed.
"No we don't," Bard grumbled defensively. He didn't like this much more than Finny did.
"In what worldly way are we not dressed like butlers?"
"We… are wearing bow ties. Not ties. And no tailcoats." The cook cleared his throat. "Now listen; I know what you've been thinking of doing tonight, and-"
"What do you mean?" Finny cut in defensively. "I'm not planning anything!"
"And I think that it's about time." Bard finished.
"W-What?"
"You heard me right. We've been waiting for you to say something to her for days. I think even the young master is getting impatient." Bard sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "We all know you care about her, Finn. You just need to man up and tell her. Think about it; what if that Count blows us off? He'll attack again, and we might not be able to keep Anya safe again if this turns into all-out war. You need to act now, little buddy."
Finny groaned and put his face in his hands. "And that is a wonderful pep talk. The only incentive I need is that she might be kidnapped before I tell her how I feel. Thanks, Bard."
"No problem. Now; how are you going to do it?"
"I have no idea," Finny sighed. "I keep trying to figure out what to say, but it all sounds so dumb."
Bard thought for a while. "You know what girls seem to like?" he asked after a moment. "In all my dealings with this kind of stuff, girls always fall head over heels for chivalry. Opening doors, pulling out chairs, escorting them down stairs; you know, the stuff that nobles do."
Finny was transfixed, eyes wide. "Really?" he asked. "Girl's like it when you do that stuff?"
"I dunno," Bard scratched his head. "Not all girls, I suppose. But Anya seems more like a romantic type, what with all of her reading and poetry. I would take that approach."
"What happens if she doesn't go for chivalry?"
"Huh? Oh, that's easy! If you try to be overly polite to a girl who doesn't want you to, she will most likely pound you to a pulp. In girl language, that basically means she'll kick you in the shin and storm off. But I doubt Anya would do that; not to you, anyway." The cook chuckled at the depressing expression on his friend's face.
"Well, the guests are arriving. We should go help greet everyone." They left their room and made their way to the front door. There weren't going to be many guests that evening, but anyone who showed up would be a business associate to the Earl, so Bard and Finny had to be at their best and reflect well upon their master.
The two of them passed the staircase, but paused when a high pitched voice called their names. They swiveled to see Lady Elizabeth waving ecstatically from the top of the stairs. They cautiously waved back, confused. Lizzie shook her head irritably.
"Wait," she called down. She took a few steps toward the wall that hid the corridor from view. She seemed to be arguing with someone who was just beyond their field of vision. Lizzie finally tried to just drag whoever it was toward her, but they wouldn't budge.
"Finian," she huffed. "Could you please get up here and help me? It seems that someone is being stubborn." Finny and Bard shrugged at each other and Bard went to greet the guests. Finny ascended the stairs. He was only a few steps from the top before he heard an exasperated voice finally relent, and a familiar figure rounded the corner.
Finny gripped the railing tightly to keep himself upright, causing it to splinter slightly; not that he noticed. He had eyes only for the girl who was shuffling shyly in his direction.
"Hullo, Finny," Anya breathed. "Bit excessive, don't you think?" She turned slightly, showing off her deep violet ball gown. Her hair was teased up in elegant ringlets on top of her head, and a silver choker glittered at her throat. Long, white gloves stretched past her elbows, leaving her shoulders bare. The full skirt of the dress cut off just above her ankles, revealing delicate white flats.
Finny finally realized that he had been asked a question. "N-No!" he blurted. "Not at all. You l-look beautiful." He dropped his eyes from hers, blushing madly.
"Thank you," Anya answered, her face matching his exactly. "Y-You're very handsome, yourself." They stood like that for what felt like hours, with Finny staring up at Anya from his place on the stairs. Neither of them knew what to do next.
Fortunately, Lizzie did. She said a hasty goodbye and passed Anya to go find Mey-rin, 'accidentally' bumping into the maid on her way. Anya lost her balance, but Finny was already there, catching her by the waist before she toppled.
"Careful," he whispered.
"O-Okay," Anya blushed. "Er, Finny?"
"Yes?"
"You can let go now." Finny realized that his arms were still draped loosely around her. He slowly extracted them and grinned apologetically. Anya forgot her embarrassment and slowly smiled back. Finny remembered Bard's advice and gallantly offered Anya his arm.
"Shall we?"
Anya blinked. This was certainly out of character for her friend. They had jokingly played at being formal with one another countless times, but now Finny looked gravely serious. And very, very, handsome, Anya noted with a small smile. Yes, it was different, but it was also sweet. Anya slipped her gloved arm through Finny's and beamed up at him.
"I believe we shall."
"Ow! Lady Elizabeth can I please-ow!- have my glasses back now?" Mey-rin was following Lizzie through the garden, bumping into bushes and tree roots at every other step. Her face felt so exposed without the familiar frames resting on the bridge of her nose, and she couldn't see anything that was less than twenty yards ahead of her.
"No," Lizzie cried, exasperated. "These clunky things completely hide your eyes. Your eyes are too pretty to cover up!"
"Then can you at least tell me where we're going? I can't see anything at all."
"You'll see," Lizzie sang. Mey-rin heard, rather than saw, the smile on her face. This isn't anything like my normal outfit, the maid despaired. How am I going to work like this? But she couldn't refuse the young master's fiancé, so she would have to make it work.
Although the details were a bit fuzzy, Mey-rin could tell that she was dressed in a red gown similar to Anya's. She had refused the long gloves for fear of another of her senses being rendered useless, but Lizzie had insisted on the gold necklace. Luckily, Lizzie hadn't forced either maid to wear high heels; that would have been a catastrophe.
And Mey-rin didn't even want to know what had been done to her poor hair. It hung down her back a lot farther than Lizzie had expected, just past her shoulders. The matchmaking noblewoman had curled and teased it so it fell in graceful waves. It bounced against the back of her neck as she walked; an alien sensation for a girl who tied her hair up every day of her life.
"Here we are," Lizzie announced. Mey-rin squinted hard, and could just barely make out the front door of the manor looming above them.
"My lady, why did we go outside just to get to the front door?" she inquired.
"Oh, Mey-rin," Lizzie sighed. "It's not the door; it's the man who opens it! Now get in there!" Lizzie knocked lightly on the door before running off to the back gate, where she would reenter the house.
"Wait," Mey-rin called. "What about my glasses?" She didn't hear Elizabeth's faint reply, because someone chose to open the door at that very moment.
"Welcome to the home of his lordship, the Earl of Phantomhive," Bard began. "Please come this- Wha? 'Rin? Is that you?"
"Yes, it's me," the maid laughed nervously. Why did Lady Elizabeth have to be so adept at knowing when a girl has her eyes on someone? Mey-rin liked Bard very much, but had always felt that he would only ever view her as a coworker and a friend. "The young mistress kidnapped me and Anya for the opportunity to play dress up, and she took my glasses. I can't see a thing."
Bard was glad for that, because it meant that she probably couldn't see his wide eyes studying hers. He had seen her without her glasses before, but only in the heat of battle. Then, he would see her eyes flash red in the sparks from the gunpowder. Now, as he watched Mey-rin cautiously make her way towards him, her eyes were a sparkling hazel.
"B-Bard," she asked. "Do you think you could help me? I'm not going to be able to do anything tonight if I can't see where I'm going."
"Of course," Bard said smoothly, gently linking arms with the maid. She stiffened, but relaxed again slightly as he escorted her inside. "We'll go get your spares from your room, okay?"
Mey-rin didn't answer immediately. Despite Bard's guidance, she was still scared of running into things. And people. And doors. It showed in her tentative footsteps.
"Put a little faith in me, would you?" Bard scoffed. "Or don't you trust me?"
"No!" Mey-rin said, a little too loudly. "I mean, of course I trust you, Bard."
"Then just relax and walk forward. I swear I won't let you run into a door." Mey-rin did as instructed, and they started making progress much more quickly. Before she knew it, the maid was standing in her own room while Bard fetched her spare glasses from on top of the dresser.
"Let me," he offered. He slid the spectacles onto Mey-rin's nose. "Now isn't that better?" He grinned as his friend stared up at him, blushing at their close proximity.
"Thanks," Mey-rin whispered. "We should get back to the hall, shouldn't we?"
"If you say so, 'Rin." Bard offered her his arm again. The maid stared, confused. He did realize that she could see now, right? He didn't need to guide her. In fact, she could finally discern the peculiar way that he was looking at her. There was a strange light in his eyes that she couldn't place.
As she took Bard's arm once again, Mey-rin remembered Elizabeth's earlier words, and wondered if maybe it wasn't only young ladies' emotions that Lizzie had an affinity for.
"Attention, please," Ciel called lightly. "Would everyone give me your attention for a moment?" The Earl waited until the gathered guests had quieted down before speaking. "Tonight we come together to celebrate a joyous holiday. Whether you are family," he smiled at Lizzie. "Friends, or business partners." He nodded to the small sect of the Underworld heads gathered in a small cluster.
"We are all equal here tonight. To my staff, I implore you to enjoy yourselves this evening as well. Goodness knows you've put up with me long enough to deserve a break." Ciel's eye scanned the small crowd to find the staff standing at the back of the crowd, shock plastered on their faces. He smiled when he saw them paired up; Finny was escorting Anya and Bard escorting Mey-rin. He raised a glass of sparkling cider. "A toast; to everyone here a Merry Christmas."
"A Merry Christmas," they echoed, and knocked back their own glasses. The small crowd dispersed, separating into two main factions. The high society members sat on the sofas and chairs around the tree to exchange gossip, and Ciel's shady business associates slowly withdrew to the drawing room to chat and catch up.
Anya and Finny exchanged looks with Bard and Mey-rin. "Did you know anything about this?" Anya asked.
"Nothing," Finny shook his head. "This caught me by surprise, too. What are we supposed to do if we aren't serving?"
"You join the party, of course!"
They all whirled around to find Ciel and Lizzie grinning at them. Lizzie was glancing meaningfully at each couple, taking in the linked arms and flushed cheeks with a single glance.
"I hope it wasn't too much of a shock," Ciel smirked. "I had planned this as a surprise for all of you, so please have fun. You'll all be back at work first thing on the twenty sixth."
"Ciel," Lizzie whined. "Come dance with me!"
Ciel smiled down at his dear cousin, realizing for the first time that he was finally taller than her. "Whatever you say, Lizzie." Laughing and stumbling, Lizzie dragged Ciel away to dance, leaving the Phantomhive servants in a stupor.
"…Anyone else hungry?" Bard finally broke the silence. He nudged Mey-rin slightly.
"What?" she frowned, and then realized the implication. "Oh, I am," she said quickly. "Let's go get some food. I'm so hungry!" They hurried off to the long buffet table, giggling and glancing over their shoulders at their friends.
"Smooth move, Mey-rin," Bard laughed.
"Oh, stuff it," the maid slapped at his arm. "You were being too obvious. She's going to know what we're up to!"
Bard looked back one more time. Finny was gesturing for Anya to follow him outside into the garden, which was surprisingly warm for Christmas Eve.
He turned back to Mey-rin, grinning ear to ear. "I don't think we have to worry about that. Let's just give them some privacy; God knows I'm gonna give the kid enough grief tomorrow!"
"What do you mean, you killed Anya's father?" Eugene screamed.
"Shush! Boy, do you want to wake the whole house? Shut your trap!" The count snapped. All traces of weariness had vanished from his slate grey eyes, leaving only contempt and malice.
"Why would you do something like that?" Eugene asked, more softly this time. "What did Ian Criel ever do to you?"
"He married my daughter," Count Rosenbloom scowled. "He was a bad influence; I ordered Amelia not to see him again, but he had her wrapped around his finger. They got married without my consent, and tried to hide it from me!"
"Your daughter?" the stable boy repeated, puzzled. "But that means that Anya's mum-"
"Was a noble; I know. If anyone knew that my only daughter had reproduced with that scum, our family would be disgraced. I had already found a suitable husband for her; that Viscount, Druitt or something. But then when I found out that she was pregnant… I couldn't take it. The lad dared to call me out, so I shot him. I thought that Amy would forget about him soon enough, but she threw her life away over him. I had to take Anya in afterwards."
"And you never told her?"
"How could I?" the count cried. "How would you tell your five year old granddaughter that you murdered her father? Aside from Collette, I hired completely new staff as soon as possible, and invented a tale about a maid whose husband was tragically killed by a runaway horse. Everyone thinks I took Anya in out of sympathy for them, but she's my own blood."
"Why did you keep my mother on as your staff, then?" Eugene demanded, quite forgetting his place. "That makes no sense!"
"Your mother was the one who helped Amelia give birth," the count huffed. "And, of course, she had you. You were barely a tot when all this happened. It chafed my conscience to take in Anya and boot a single mother out in the streets."
"How kind of you," Eugene murmured.
"Watch it, boy," the count snapped. "Now go tell Casper to get a guest room ready. We have a visitor." He gestured over his shoulder for a young man to enter the office. He was pale, with light hair and blue eyes. Eugene bowed, noticing with a suppressed grin the giant bruise on the young noble's nose.
"Since you failed so miserably," Count Rosenbloom continued. "Earl Trancy has agreed to assist me in finding a way to bring my granddaughter home. He says he has some business with the Phantomhive family as well."
Alois grinned mysteriously. "Yes, I certainly do."
"It's really beautiful out here tonight," Anya commented. "It's so clear; you can see all of the stars." Finny glanced at her as they wandered through the garden that had become theirs. Over the weeks, Finny had gained more and more self-control, resulting in a wonderful landscape that the two of them had raised together.
"Aye," he agreed. "Beautiful." But he wasn't looking at the bare deciduous trees and the snow covered conifers. His eyes were latched onto Anya, and he only tore them away when she caught him staring. He looked instead at the sky, searching for a source of conversation. "So, do you know any of the constellations, Anya?" Stupid stupid stupid stupid!
Anya's eyes lit up with excitement. "Only a few," she admitted. She took one of her hands away from Finny's arm to point up at the sky. "There's Orion the Hunter; you can tell by those three shimmery stars on his belt. Orion is my favorite because I can almost always find him on a clear winter evening." She stopped walking, jerking Finny to a stop as well. She pivoted on one foot before pointing again.
"And that's Cygnus, the swan constellation. I can almost never find it, so I'm glad it's out tonight." She smiled up at Finny. "Do you know any?"
"Not really," he said, abashed. Why did I bring it up if I had no idea what I was talking about? Stupid stupid stu-
"I just remembered something, though," he said, relieved. "I think that Lao once told the young master a story about that swan. It was some sort of Chinese legend."
"That sounds wonderful," Anya said, intrigued. "Do you remember it?"
"Why don't we sit down?" Finny offered. "I bet those shoes are pinching your feet raw." Anya nodded gratefully and followed Finny to a small wooden bench under sad looking willow. They made themselves comfortable as the gardener tried to recall the story.
"The details are a little fuzzy, but I know it was a love story," Finny began. "You know the phrase 'star-crossed lovers'? I think this story is where it came from. There were two lovers up in heaven, and they were very happy together. But someone wanted them apart, so they banished one of them to a place far away from the other." Finny pointed to Cygnus. "Those two far apart stars are the lovers."
Anya craned her head back to get a better view, her cheek brushing her friend's shoulder. Finny hesitantly brought his arm back down, letting it rest behind Anya on the back of the bench. She unconsciously leaned into him, causing his arm fall across her shoulders.
"That was an awfully mean thing to do," she noted. "Why would someone try to keep them apart if they were in love?"
"I guess some people are just cruel," Finny said. He wasn't thinking about the story much at the moment. He couldn't help remembering how it felt when Eugene had tried to take Anya away from him. Finny wondered if that was how the lover in the tale had felt. He held Anya just a little more tightly.
"The two of them became very sad," Finny continued. "Because they missed each other so much. So on the evening of the new moon, when no one would see them, they called on all of the magpies in the world to make a bridge for them to cross and see each other. The lovers were only together for the length of the night. So once a month, whenever the new moon is in the sky, all of the magpies fly up to the lovers and help them to be together again."
"That's such a lovely story," Anya yawned. "And you tell it very well, Finny. You were about to send me off to dreamland!" She reluctantly lifted her head from Finny's shoulder, and shivered. "Can we go in now? It's getting a bit cold."
"I'd like to show you something first, if you don't mind."
"Okay," Anya nodded. "I can make it, even if this gown is going to make catch pneumonia soon."
"Here," Finny offered. He stood and shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket, draping it loosely around Anya's shoulders. "Does that help?"
"Yes, thank you," the maid said. It also helps that my face is probably burning enough to keep my whole body warm, she added silently. Instead of taking her arm again, Finny reached for Anya's hand, and she readily accepted. As Finny led her deeper into the garden, she felt a surprising sense of relief. Finny had been behaving curiously all night, but this was familiar; just the two of them walking hand in hand.
"So what do you want to show me all the way out here?" she asked, excited despite of herself. She was sure that she had seen everything there was to see in their botanical paradise; what could Finny possibly have in mind?
The gardener smiled deviously at her over his shoulder. "You'll see," he promised. "We're almost there!" They had arrived at the entrance to the hedge maze where the two of them had first met. The tall greenery was covered with holly berries for the winter, and dusted with powdery snow. As if of its own will, Anya's free hand rose to brush the edges of the hedge, sending freezing water droplets flying into the night like silver shooting stars.
"Winter makes everything look like a dream," Anya commented. "Or a painting. The snow makes everything seem so magical and unreal." Finny suddenly stopped before turning the next corner, causing Anya to crash into his back. He didn't seem to notice the collision, but Anya supposed that inhuman strength made you rock solid against that kind of jolt.
"I need to you to close your eyes," Finny said, turning to face her. She made a face at him. "I know you don't like not seeing where you're going, but you trust me, right?" His expression turned puppy like, and Anya couldn't refuse. She nodded and gently closed her eyes. She felt a cool breeze pass by her face as Finny waved his hand in front of her eyes.
"I'm not going to peek," she teased. "Just take me where I need to be." She reached out her arms as proof of her blindness. A pair of cool hands circled her wrists, and Finny slowly guided her forward. Anya listened as the snow crunched softly under her shoes, stumbling slightly when her toes found a small stone or twig.
This isn't so bad, she realized. I've spent all this time scared of what I couldn't see. It's fine if I have someone to guide me.
"I'm going to let go of you, but don't open your eyes yet." Finny's voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He retracted his hands and instantly disappeared from Anya's internal radar. She couldn't stand still, fidgeting as she jumped at the slightest gust of wind. She nearly dared to open her eyes when Finny's jacket slipped on her shoulders, but she restrained herself and righted the garment with one hand. She heard the crunch of snow, and suddenly Finny was with her again.
"Alright," he whispered gleefully. "Open your eyes!" Anya didn't need to be told twice. Her eyelids flew up almost before the words were out of Finny's mouth. She had planned to scold him for making her wait in the dark for so long, but the sight before her took her breath away.
They were standing in the center of the maze, at the edge of the pond where Anya had first spotted Finny. The water was completely frozen over with solid ice, and it shone like starlight in the dark night. And sitting on the ice, only a few feet away from them, were two magnificent swans. The great birds were huddled together to keep the chill wind at bay, and Anya realized with amazement that they were both sound asleep. The female's graceful neck was tucked neatly under her wing, and her partner had settled his own regal head over her back like a sheltering arm.
"Oh, Finny," Anya whispered. "They're so beautiful. How did you know they would be here?" Finny wound his arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him. Anya was surprised at the rather forward gesture, but said nothing, enjoying the moment and their shared body heat.
"They always sleep here when the water freezes over," Finny said softly. "They live on a lake a few miles from here. A few winters ago, a blizzard blew them clear across the country into the garden. The pen had a broken wing, and the cob refused to leave her side. It took me three days to convince him to let me close enough to fix her up. Ever since then, they come here when their home freezes."
"So beautiful," Anya repeated dazedly. "That pen is a lucky girl. Have you named them?"
Finny shrugged. "I thought I might, once, but I never got around to it. Nothing seemed to fit them well enough. Besides, they don't live here, so I didn't feel right naming them." He paused, thinking. "What would you call them," he blurted. "If you had to name them?"
Anya studied them for a minute. Maybe it was the fact that the sweet story was fresh on her mind, but she had just the names for such lovely silver swans. "What about Orion and Cygnus?"
Finny nodded, slowly at first but gaining enthusiasm. "That's perfect," he exclaimed. "We'll call them Orion and Cygnus!" He gazed in down in wonder at the brilliant girl in his arms.
"Hush," Anya scolded playfully, flustered by the strange look he was giving her. "You'll wake them. I don't know about you, but I certainly wouldn't want to be the one who awoke dear Cygnus and faced Orion's wrath!" Finny quieted, and his eyes suddenly became very serious. Anya laughed nervously, but didn't move away.
"The cob protects the pen," Finny murmured. "Do you know why?" Anya shook her head slowly, wondering where on earth he was going with this. Finny abruptly removed his arm from Anya's waist and brought her around to face him.
"It's because loves her more than anything else." His eyes were pleading with her, begging her to understand something that she was starting to grasp, but couldn't quite believe.
"What are you saying?" she asked softly, noticing how close together they were. She could have reached out and touched him, and she found that she might want to. Finny didn't answer Anya, but gestured to the glade around them.
"What do you think of when you see this place, Anya?"
"It's very special to me," she answered sincerely. "This is where the two of us first met." Anya pointed limply to a spot on the bank of the pond. "You were there, feeding the ducks. I never told you this, but I was totally lost in the maze before I found you. I heard you laughing and followed the sound." She smiled at the memory, letting it wash over her.
"This place is precious to me, too," Finny agreed. "There are so many memories here; Orion and Cygnus, for one. But meeting you here is the best thing by far." He brought a hand to slowly caress the side of Anya's face. The stunned maid could see that Finny didn't even have to try to be firmly in control of his excessive strength; he'd gained more and more control as the days passed.
"Finny, I …" Anya stopped midsentence as the older boy's hand moved to the back of her head, brushing through the ringlets of dark hair. There was a minute amount of pressure, so light that Anya felt she might have imagined it. But she finally understood what Finny had been trying to tell her all night.
Meanwhile, at the party
"Sebastian!" Ciel roared. "Who invited them?" The Earl pointed an accusing finger at the four unwelcome guests in his parlor. The redhead in particular was driving him insane, attempting vainly to catch a certain suave butler under the mistletoe.
"I assure you, my lord; I would not dream of letting these creatures within a mile of the house if I were able to access my full powers." Sebastian somersaulted over Grelle's head. "No offense to you, Undertaker, but Shinigami rather set me on edge."
"AHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!" chortled the Undertaker. "This is- too much! The greatest Christmas gift of laughter! AHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!"
"Now really," Ronald Knox complained to his boss. "Is that any holiday welcome for guests? I was sure Lord Phantomhive would be more hospitable." He sighed before helping himself to cider and snacks.
"The food is free," William noted. "Eat while you can, Knox. And enjoy the show; it's quite entertaining."
So the three Shinigami watched in amusement while their companion failed repeatedly to entice that skilled butler. Ciel could only shake his head in wonder before leaving to entertain his other (more humane) guests.
Back in the garden^^
As Finny brought his face closer to hers, Anya felt a panicked tightness in her chest. Unwelcome memories sprung to the forefront of her mind; Alois's mouth on hers, hot and rough; his hands violating her, and she herself unable to stop him. Finny must have felt her hesitation; he paused, concerned. He was studying Anya's face carefully, making sure he wasn't overstepping the mark.
And that was all it took to remind Anya that Finny was nothing like Alois Trancy. Alois had tried to take from her what she was unwilling to give. Finny would never do anything to hurt her, and he wasn't taking anything. He was giving her something that she wanted more deeply than water or air or the sun. When Anya stood on her toes to meet him halfway, Finny gave her a promise of all the love and companionship that she could ever want in a simple, chaste kiss.
It was nothing like Alois's forceful advances. Instead of fear, Anya was overflowing with peace and a glowing happiness. The kiss was over in a heartbeat, but she had felt all of the emotion that Finny had bottled up inside him spill out in that short moment. When Finny pulled away, his face defying the laws of physics and somehow going past red to dark purple, he looked both satisfied with himself and vulnerable at the same time.
"I love you, Anya," Finny finally confessed, and would be eternally grateful that his voice didn't break. He enclosed her hand in both of his, blushing at her through his combed bangs. Anya slowly closed her other hand on top of his, and suddenly laughed. She hugged Finny's neck tightly, the jacket falling from her shoulders and drooping to the grass.
"Me too," she declared. She clung to the back of Finny's shirt, her ear resting over his fluttering heart. She laughed at the irregular beat. "I love you too, Finny."
The overjoyed gardener wrapped his arms around the girl of his dreams, drawing her even closer. Unable to help himself, he drew back and lifted Anya off her feet, earning a yelp and making Anya clutch at his sleeves.
"I love you," Finny reminded her after setting her back on her feet. He took one more look at the dozing birds before retrieving his fallen jacket. He draped it tenderly on Anya's shoulders once again to shield her from the December wind. He offered his arm again to take her back inside.
Anya grinned, clasping his hand instead. "I love you too."
Anya breathed in the late night air. The cool stone bench under her was cushioned by the warm blanket that she had brought with her. After returning to the party, she and Finny had been harassed by both Bard and Lady Elizabeth for over an hour before the last guests finally decided to leave. Aside from earning a terse apology from William for stabbing her (this was out of Finny's earshot, of course), the evening had progressed without incident.
But Anya found that she was unable to find sleep. So, dressed in her warm work clothes, she had snuck out into the garden to watch the sky. She supposed that her insomnia might have been caused by the strong cider that Sebastian conveniently slipped to her by accident, but the element buzzing through her blood didn't feel muddled like she imagined alcohol would be.
"So I guess this is how it feels when your life is complete," Anya said aloud. Wind carried her voice away almost instantly, absorbing her happy words into the void. "I have a new home and family, a job that's more like pleasure than work, and the kindest boy in all the world loves me back." Anya paused, wondering just who she was talking to. Maybe it was partially the cider after all. But then she realized who it was she wanted to talk to more than anyone else at the moment.
"I wish you were here, Mum," Anya whispered. "And you, Father. I want to tell you how happy I am, and how good my friends are to me." She looked beseechingly at the stars, as if her parents would somehow materialize before her very eyes. "What happened to you, Father?" She had been pondering it for some time, and Anya realized that she wouldn't be able to rest easy until she found out.
"Would you like to know?" A male voice emanated from the shadows. Anya leapt to her feet with a shrill cry. It was cut off after only a second by a gentle hand.
"I'm terribly sorry, miss. I didn't mean to startle you," the man expressed in apology. Anya whirled around, slapping the hand away from her. Through the darkness, she could make out a familiar shape and the gleam of small, rectangular spectacles.
"Claude Faustus?" Anya gasped. "W- What are you doing here?"
"Please, keep your voice down," Claude shushed. "I come only to deliver a message from my master."
Anya drew herself up. "First of all," she menaced. "I'm sure you master has heard of the mail. Lord knows he's sent out enough invitations in the past few months. Second, no one in this house wants anything to do with Earl Trancy. That said, you should be on your way."
Claude bowed his head. "Forgive me, Miss Criel, but I am unable to do that. My master gave me strict instructions, and I cannot deviate from them. Would you please allow me to at least convey the message? It may be of great importance to you."
Anya felt her resolve thinning. After all, Claude was bound to serve Alois, wasn't he? He was just a puppet in the grand scheme of it. I wonder what he does to instill such loyalty, because I know it isn't from mutual love and respect, as it is with Ciel.
"Fine," she sighed. "But if you try anything funny, I will scream for real, and Sebastian will tear you apart." Claude bowed gratefully to her and recited his message.
"The Earl Alois Trancy offers his apologies for getting you caught in the crossfire during his quest to exact his revenge on Lord Phantomhive. He wishes for you to accompany me back to meet with him and talk with him alone."
"You must think I'm insane," Anya scoffed. "Claude, give me one good reason why I should go anywhere with you, alone or otherwise."
"Because my master knows how your father died," Claude supplied bluntly.
"Liar," Anya accused. "You heard me talking."
"Ah, but did you mention his name? I happen to know that your father was Ian James Criel, a gardener of the grounds of Rosenbloom estate. And, as I said, my master can give you all the details of his death if you wish. All you need to do is come with me."
Anya hesitated. Claude could be telling the truth; how else would he know so much about her father? "And after I meet with him?"
"I am to escort you safely home," the butler replied smoothly. Anya bit her lip, weighing the odds. She really should tell someone… but everyone was asleep, and how could she pass up this chance?
"Okay," she reluctantly relented. "But as soon as I'm done meeting with him, you are to bring me straight home!" Claude bowed, and actually graced her with a rare smile.
"Thank you, Miss Criel. My master will be pleased." He extended his elbow to Anya, who tentatively took hold of it. Before she could even cry out, they were flying across the countryside and into London at impossible speeds. As the warm blanket folded to the frozen ground and the garden became peaceful once again, a single white rectangle glowed on the stone bench, shining in the starlight.
The seal on the envelope was imprinted with the crest of a large spider; a calling card from the Trancy butler.
Dun dun duuuun! So? Whatcha think?
Moony: Sappy. Cheesy. Cliche.
SHUT UP! Anyway, the Cygnus story? I only half remembered it from a project all the way back in third grade. I tried to look it up again, but couldn't find it. So whatever I couldn't remember... I made up^^ Plus, I learned that a female swan is a pen and a male is a cob. Weird.
Moony: Well, good job I guess. And happy birthday. On another side note, our friend yaoisaveslives is constantly updating her Kuro Fanfic, and even I think it's worth reading.
Aww, Moons! You do care! Love ya, Holly-chan, and R&R everyone!