In your Arms, I Lay
By: sleepdeprivedsoul
Summary: A visit in the night by the King of Hell discloses the unnerving truth behind the contact. Ciel learns the necessity of reading between the lines, for not all is what it seems
Prologue
Strangers in the Night
As with all dreams, it started without rhyme or reason. He was dumped in the middle of a scene, so familiar it was that no script or any type of rehearsal was needed to carry it on. And like a veteran actor playing his role, he plunged right in with no prompting, retracing his steps and reciting words that were already said a hundred times before.
The view was devastating, even after all this time. Fear and despair clung to his heart and filled his mind to the brim that it left little else for him to function. All that was left was the overwhelming need to see his father and mother, to be once again engulfed in their strong and protective arms and to be carried far, far away from this unending nightmare.
Smoke filled his vision and he struggled to move on, to put one foot in front of the other despite the dim visibility. He extended his arms as far as they would go in front of him, like a blind man would in unfamiliar surroundings, despite the fact that it was his home…the one he spent most of his life in. The scorching heat of the flames travelling through the walls made him quick to retract them, however, and every once in a while he would place his hand in a fist in front his face in a coughing fit as the smoke got thicker and invaded his nostrils.
"Mama! Papa!" His voice would come out weak and feeble. It barely penetrated the fiery hell that enclosed him, yet still he pushed on. All around him he could hear the groaning of wood, as it shook in its foundations. The paintings that once hung imposingly on the walls were curling in on itself as the fire licked at its edges. Debris littered the ground as a sign of a great struggle that once took place there, and once or twice he felt the crunching underneath his feet as he stepped on what were once priceless vases. The increasing heat that enveloped him, the lack of any living person in the area, and having his way blocked more than once by fallen timbre all served to amplify the panic that gripped him in a choking hold. In his panic, he disregarded caution and hurtled through the open spaces left to him, running as fast as his short legs could carry him, until finally he came upon a closed door. It led to the sun room where his mother was so fond of holding their tea parties whenever the weather outside was so disagreeable, he vaguely recalled. And wherever his mother was, his father was sure to be found. With a great burst of hope, he clutched the knob and sprang into the room, relief filling him immediately upon spotting his father sitting calmly in his favorite armchair, despite the great roaring flames all around him.
"Papa!" he cried in delight, taking two more steps into the room before stopping dead in his tracks upon finally catching sight of the figure standing imposingly by his father's side. The glitter of the knife that she held firmly in her hand and the sight his father's mutilated face had him screaming and dropping to the floor in anguish and denial.
"Papa! Mama! Noooooooooooo!!!!!!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He awoke with a gasp, staring blankly at the familiar canopy of his bed. It was still dark out he discovered, although faint tendrils of light had already crept in through the tiny gaps in the curtains. As he struggled to catch his breath, he absentmindedly rubbed at his chest, easing the tightness that was so often found there after nights such as this. Something warm and wet trailed down his cheeks and his panting breaths morphed into strangling hiccups which he fought to suppress. After all, he was far from the helpless child he was before. He had climbed from the dark abyss of his past reaching out and seizing that faint glimmer of hope on the form of crimson eyes and malicious smiles. Crying had no place in his present life. Crying can do nothing. It cannot resurrect the dead. It cannot turn back the hands of time. It only brought about feelings of despair and helplessness. It certainly does not help in dishing out his revenge.
The soft slick of silk upon silk brought back his awareness of his surroundings in a sudden slam. Immediately he froze, eyes darting out in every shadowed corner of the room, trying to penetrate it gloomy interior while his right hand slid unobtrusively under his pillow until he was able to grasp the comforting cold metal of his pistol.
"Who's there?" No trace of fear can be found in his voice despite his vulnerable position. Instead, it came out firm, angry, and demanding. In the back of his mind he wondered where Sebastian was and why he had let an intruder sneak into his manor undetected.
"I apologize if I disturbed your slumber. That was never my intention. Although with the way you moaned and cried in your sleep, I doubt if it was anything peaceful."
"Bastard." Shame burned a hot glow on his cheeks and he pushed himself up on his elbows so he could better locate the source of that smooth voice.
Footsteps came from his right and he swiveled to face there just as the light slowly illuminated the room, reaching out first to touch the toes of a black shiny boot, before gradually extending upwards until it brought the face of the trespasser to light. He was dressed like a gentleman, in fine coat and breeches. The way he held himself and the arrogant tilt of his head even spoke of nobility. The strong cheekbones, the chilling eyes of icy blue and the tousled arrangement of auburn curls upon his head painted a handsome picture, if not for the condescending smirk playing on his lips.
"I just wanted to see the little human that has my younger brother so captivated that he has neglected his duties in our world."
Human.
The contempt in that word did not remain unnoticed, nor the appraising eyes that ran intimately over his body. He stiffened in response and brought himself up on a sitting position, facing the stranger, taking no notice of his own state of undress. He did not cower in front of Sebastian then despite being caught in his lowest, and he will not cower in front of some unknown demon now! Swiftly, he brought his pistol out and trained it unerringly at his unwanted visitor, even knowing that guns were no use against his kind.
"I ask again, who are you and how dare you trespass in my room?!"
"Forgive me. It appears I have been remiss with my manners. I have been called by many names, but the one I believe you would be most familiar with would be Lucifer." In spite of his words, there was no true remorse in his tone. Instead, his eyes danced with barely hidden amusement.
"Lucifer? The fallen angel? The one who betrayed God?" He could not help but let incredulity slip in.
"The one and the same. Also the reigning King of Hell. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Ciel Phantomhive." He replied with a regal dip of his head.
Tbc
AN: Please review! Constructive criticisms welcome!