This is the final chapter. There is an epilogue after chapter 23. Thank you all for your faves/follows/reviews. *Hugs for everyone* :)

I do not own Black Butler. Azii, Thank you so much for your praise and kind words. Thank you for your amazing writing and the inspiration you've been for me. Thank you for updating C is for Contract, D is for Demon! You're the freakin' best!

Sebastian and Menefer lay awake in their room across the hall, both of them biting back laughter as they listened to the animalistic sounds coming from the elegant Lady Elizabeth. Menefer curled against the demon's side and he buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of sandalwood and sage that had permeated her curls. It was, perhaps, only the second time in over a millennium that he had deigned to stay in bed with her.

"I know I am not always ...pleasing to you, Menefer," he started. "I am coarse and impatient, much like my master. I have little use of sentimentality and I do not express my emotions because in truth, I have little. But I want you to know that the last two days were empty for me."

He felt her breath escape her lips against his chest and the tell-tale wetness as warm tears began to flow. "You are very pleasing to me, my Marcus. That is the crux of the matter," she sighed. "You please me to the very brink of sanity, I fear." She lifted herself up on an elbow to peer down at him. He truly was the most magnificently beautiful creature she'd ever beheld. "I have a confession to make..."

"What is that, my dear?"

"When we first arrived here, I noticed that I no longer had your attention. Granted, that problem solved itself soon enough... But the night Lizzie and I were drinking... Ciel ...he explained why you were preoccupied."

Sebastian's eyes flared for a moment before Menefer laid her hand over them, blocking out the hellfire that flickered in his irises. "Do not be angry with him. He did not go into great detail. But he explained that you had once had a wife and that you had lived in this house with her. I knew at that moment I could never hope to compete with her memory. So I endeavored to be the woman you needed without taking her away from you. And it hurt. But I have suffered more pain than any woman should have to endure. And as long as I am with you, I will continue to suffer." She moved her hand from his eyes and slid her fingertips down the length of his square jaw. "As long as I am with you, I do not care if I suffer."

Sebastian's lips were set in a thin line, displeasure creasing his brow but he remained silent as he lay there, staring up at his Egyptian beauty as she laid her heart bare.

"You have known for a thousand years that I loved you. For a thousand years, I thought you incapable of love. To know that you have felt this same pain I have suffered for you eases my own somewhat. I know that I cannot replace Cybille. I do not want to. I want you to remember me as I once was. A strong warrior that worshiped you above her own gods and died trying to put you on the throne of Egypt."

Sebastian's frown deepened as he reached up to brush the tears from her face. "Why?"

"Ciel saw your Cybille in a dream. She told him to give you a message. That she would return and you would be together again. You will not know her by her looks, but rather by the sound of her voice. So I want you to listen. I want you to find her again. I want my suffering to have meant something."

He pulled her back down against his chest and tried in vain to digest her words. His eyes closed and he pictured his wife beckoning to him from their bed, curled against him as Menefer was in the aftermath of love-making, raving and grief-stricken when the doctor said, "I am terribly sorry, Mrs. Corbeau, but your son..." He saw her dark skin turn alabaster in the lamp light of the room she'd given birth in as she bled out. Her gray eyes fading to silver as the light left them; the shallow last breath as his name died on her lips with her.

Menefer felt a sudden jerk in his chest beneath her cheek and though she refused to raise her head and confirm it, she was certain he was fighting back sobs. She clutched him tighter and forced her own emotions beneath the surface. It will not do for both of us to break at the same time...

At some point, Sebastian fell asleep. His brow still furrowed even when he appeared to be nothing more than a beautiful corpse; if there had been tears, the traces of them were long gone. Menefer was sitting up in bed committing his every feature to memory as he slept. The demon sleeping was not something she could ever remember having seen. He looked as if he should have been terribly fitful, the frown etched on his face, his hands clenched into fists; but he was as still as death and if it hadn't been for the tiniest bit of movement as his chest rose and fell with his breathing, she would have assumed he was dead.

Eventually, she crept out of the bed, having made up her mind about her next course of action. Throwing on the clothes that she'd let Sebastian rip from her body hours previous, she sneaked out of the bedroom and made her way to Ciel's study. Finding a pen and a small stationary tablet, she settled in the overstuffed chair behind the desk and thought about the note she was going to leave them.

Do not be concerned over my decision. I am an unnatural being and as such, I have decided it best to return to my natural state. I am truly not certain what will become of me once I have removed my necklace, but it is imperative that it remains with Lizzie. This is the only way she and Ciel can remain together for the rest of their eternity.

Ciel and Lizzie: I have loved you both as I have never loved anyone in my life. As siblings, as children, as family. Ciel, do not forget to go back to the Voodoo woman and give her your thanks. I know you never told Sebastian about your dream, but I have told him for you. I hope you are not upset. I know you intended to keep me with you, but I am afraid I would only have been a melancholy observer in your new life. Love each other as I have loved you. Love each other more than that. Explore and dream for you are but newborns in this life and you will grow and learn and discover more than you ever thought possible. Go see the pyramids. They are beautiful.

What you choose to do with my remains matters not to me. Return me to the museum or return me to Egypt; I have only known one true home in all my life and that has been with you, my Marcus.

Setting the pen aside, Menefer stared at the letter for moments-hours-until the pink and orange glow of the sunrise crept in through the gaps in the curtains and began to fill the study with its warmth. She left the paper on the desk and stood, heart racing so violently in her chest that she was sure it would beat right out of her body. Tentative fingers grasped the carnelian obelisk at her throat, clutching it, white-knuckled and frightened. Then she unfastened the clasp on the chain and dropped the necklace onto the letter before her. It took seconds for her body to feel strange; a tightening in all her limbs, as if her joints were seizing up.

Carefully, stiffly, she inched around the desk to the open space in front and gently lowered herself to the floor. Every second that passed became more excruciating than the last. She cried. Her tears only seemed to hasten the situation as her skin shrank and dried, her muscles cramping and popping strangely as they contracted, and she wondered for a moment if she would remain conscious throughout the entire process. She had had an inkling that this would be the result of removing the pendant; she had not imagined that she would be alive this long after. Perhaps she should have reconsidered her decision, she thought wryly.

There was a sudden gut-wrenching pain that washed over her like a wave as she lay there; her arms were being drawn up against her chest as the flesh disintegrated and the ligaments tightened, darkness closing in as her eyes drew closed and she knew it would be over soon. It felt as if her insides were as dry as the desert sands and the tears that had been flowing freely now pooled in empty sockets. She saw again the stunning gold edifice of the Temple of Isis and the smiling face of her father. She wondered if "Rene" had been the last thing Cybille uttered before her death and in a heartbeat she knew it had to have been. But her tongue was useless now and "Marcus" came forth from her cracked lips as nothing more than a breath.

It was only a hour or so later when Ciel wandered into his study that he found her. The mummy stretched out on the floor before his desk bore no resemblance to the unbelievable beauty that Menefer had been. Just a shrunken skeleton with sandpaper skin and the clothes that she had been wearing last night hanging so loosely on her frame.

Ciel could not tear his eyes from her, and he knew immediately what had happened. She had so much weight on her shoulders, he thought, his hand coming down to rest blindly on his desk and he felt the pendant beneath his palm. I should never have told her about Cybille DeMoreau.

"Dammit, Mennie!" he cried, his heart constricting in his chest. He clutched the pendant ever tighter, the sharp point of the obelisk breaking skin and his blood pooled around it. "Why couldn't you just listen to me? Lizzie and I..." he was sobbing now. He didn't remember sinking to his knees next to the desk, but the motion dragged his hand from the desk and pulled her note from beneath it, now stained somewhat with his blood but still legible.

It was hard to read with water obscuring his vision, so he slapped the note back on the desktop, took a deep breath, and swallowed his sobs. Sebastian appeared in the doorway, his face a mask of stoic nonchalance until he saw his master on his knees there in the floor and Ciel turned on him, raising the hand still clutching the pendant to point at Menefer's corpse.

"You. You fix this! I order you to fix this!"

"I am afraid this is something that lies beyond even a demon's ability to correct, my master," he replied, but it satisfied Ciel to hear Sebastian's voice crack with his answer.

The younger demon rose in one fluid movement and a vicious right hook had Sebastian staggering back into the doorjamb, blood flowing down his chin from a split lip. "She loved you, you bastard! She did this so you could start over with your precious Cybille-" the name was spat out, like poison, and again Ciel's fist connected with the butler's face.

The older demon made no move to block; his lip was already healing, but the second punch rent it open again. When Ciel swung the third time, Sebastian caught his fist in his hand and jerked Ciel against his chest, spinning him bodily and seizing his arm behind him in an excruciating grip. "I understand your pain, my master. But whether or not this was done for me, or so you can give that pendant to mistress Elizabeth remains a moot point. What is dead cannot be brought back to life." Sebastian let him go. "I suggest you allow me to clear away the evidence before waking the lady Elizabeth."

Ciel nodded mutely. It would do no good for Lizzie to see the body of her friend this way, he knew. Scrubbing his fists across his eyes to clear the tears away, he picked up Menefer's note again and read it. The pyramids. I would very much like to have seen them with you, Mennie.

He handed the sheet to Sebastian and turned to leave the room. "What will you do with her?"

"As returning her to the museum may cause undue trouble and taking her back to Egypt would be a hassle and likely only result in her body being found again... I think I will have her interred at the family crypt here."

"You have a family crypt in New Orleans?" Ciel remarked, confusion creasing his brow.

"The Faustine crypt in Lafayette Cemetery. It is where Cybille was laid to rest."

"You would put her with your wife?"

"She meant as much to me as my wife. Perhaps not exactly as Cybille had, but I suppose, Menefer was my first wife, of sorts. Regardless, she was family. Master, I have a request to make."

Ciel turned again and regarded the older demon, noting the tones in his normally baritone voice were lilting somewhat more than normal; his mouth healed again, but creased in sadness at the corners as he bent to lift Menefer's mummy in his arms. "What is it, Sebastian?"

"If circumstance should find me dead, for whatever reason-and I am aware that we demons do not die easily-I would very much like for you to have my body interred there, as well. My soul of course, will go straight back to hell, but under the right conditions, my body will remain Surface-bound. If that should happen, bury me here."

Ciel bit the inside of his cheek, his lips stretched taut across his teeth in distaste, but he nodded. "I will."

Bending somewhat awkwardly in his customary bow, Sebastian took Menefer's body out of the house in a shimmering cloud of blackness.

Ciel made his way back to his room, and for a long while, he stood at the foot of the bed and watched Lizzie sleep. She had not heard the commotion in the study and was blissfully unaware that her best friend had left and entrusted her with such a magnificent gift. He squeezed the obelisk in his fist and wondered at how he would tell her.

Mennie's dead, darling, but she left you this. No. That wouldn't do. Mennie's gone, darling. She left a note. She says it's imperative that you keep this. No. Mennie is...

"Ciel?" Lizzie breathed, her eyes cracking open and the languid smile that had warmed her face disappeared into a confused frown. His face was grave at best, and he had done an ill job of erasing the evidence of his tears. She sat up as he came around to the side of the bed and settled himself on the edge of it.

Wordlessly, he reached out and clasped the chain around her neck; watched as she clutched it in her hand and stared at the carnelian that somehow seemed to glow against her pale skin. It had dried blood on it, caked into the filigree hanger, but there was a pulse that reverberated throughout her body when she held it against her. She knew in an instant what had happened. She knew that Ciel would never find the words to tell her. She knew that, like Cybille, Menefer's ghost would haunt them until she could be with them again.

Lizzie smiled despite the tears and laid her hand against Ciel's face, turning him to her. "It's alright, Dearest. Trust me."

Ciel studied her face for some time, gazing in astonishment as the smile lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth smoothed and disappeared; her eyes grew larger, brighter; her lips ever so slightly plumper. The magic of the obelisk was working in just the few moments that she had worn it. Or perhaps, it was his blood that he had unknowingly imbued it with. He felt a very slight drain of his energy suddenly, but nothing that should concern a demon, and he realized with a start that the pendant worked precisely as Menefer had thought. It was taking just a tiny portion of his own magic and using that to keep Lizzie young. She would not look as young as Mennie had, of course, for Menefer had been only eighteen-albeit a very mature eighteen-when she had received the pendant. But Lizzie looked young as it was, so he supposed she would look thirty forever.

"I need to fulfill a promise," he started, but Lizzie smiled knowingly and tossed the sheet from her naked body.

"I know. I'll get dressed. I would very much like to meet this Voodoo priestess."

Ciel nodded and stood, helping Elizabeth to her feet. He waited as she gathered up her discarded clothing and watched as she dressed, smoothing the wrinkles from the silk and linen with practiced strokes. Sebastian had vanished into thin air with Menefer and they locked the door behind them as they left. It was a short walk to Rue Royale from the townhouse and Ciel paused at the open door of the shop, steadying himself before going inside.

There was a certain emptiness now where his heart had been, and it seemed a bad time to confront the old granny. But he had promised her, and Menefer had reminded him in her note, that this was something that had to be done. Squeezing Lizzie's hand in his own, he stepped over the high threshold and into the heavy darkness. Lizzie followed him in, eyes darting back and forth in the wan light, taking in all the oddities and bizarre artifacts as he had done only days before. The breath seemed to leave her body in a shudder when she spotted the altar through the beaded curtain in the back room.

The cracked and raspy voice came from nowhere, startling them both. "Bonjour, les enfants," it cackled, and that little white halo of hair peeped from behind the enormous counter. It disappeared for a moment as the granny hopped off her stool and waddled around it, appearing next to them in a cloud of cheroot smoke. "Aahh, quelle belle enfants you are!"

"Madame," Ciel started, but the old woman held her hand up for silence.

"Non. You came to pay your debt but you have another request simmering in your brain. I know it. Oui, je sais que. Your friend is gone. You want her back. Some things take a lifetime, vous savez?"

Ciel's hand went slack suddenly and he turned to the empty space beside him where Lizzie had just been. The old woman cackled again, but instead of stopping Lizzie as she had done him, she allowed the blonde to enter the altar room. She watched, a smile wrinkling her leathery face as Elizabeth knelt before the altar and bowed her head. She remained there for some time as the old woman wandered to the alcove where her herb table was and fussed about, clearly putting together another sachet of some kind.

Ciel stood behind her. "What is it this time?"

"Pour votre femme. Et pour votre ami," she answered cryptically, cinching the top of the tiny sachet closed with a ribbon. "Your woman knows how to pray. Your friend's body may be gone, but her soul is with you. Your woman knows this. It is why she is not as saddened as you."

Ciel nodded, at a complete loss for words, as per usual concerning his encounters thus far with this old woman. He took the sachet from her and she waddled by, stopping by one of the shelves and picking up a statuette as she passed. Ciel recognized it as the same one he'd been strangely drawn to on his last visit. He'd had no idea what compelled him to pick the damn thing up, but under the pretense of interest, he had used that saint to focus on his surroundings and ease his anxiety about this granny in his presence.

She hopped back onto her stool and stubbed out the cheroot in a glass plate on the counter. Reaching into one of her numerous pockets, she drew out a small leather bag and spilled its contents into a censer on the counter.

Ciel turned to check on Lizzie and watched as she hastily crossed herself and rose, pushing past the beaded curtain and returning to his side.

"Fille, come."

Elizabeth went behind the counter and watched as the old woman fiddled with something Ciel couldn't see. The granny's eyes closed and she waved her hands about in some predetermined gesture above the censer, mumbling something in a language that was neither French nor English; then she clapped her hands above the censer with a loud crack and the substance she had spilled there sparked and erupted in flames. Elizabeth jumped back half a step, but it took mere seconds for her to recover and she was bent over the old woman's shoulder again, fascination painting her face.

He could see the thin trail of smoke as it rose from the counter top, but whatever images Elizabeth beheld in the censer were a mystery to him. It seemed a hundred emotions washed over her face in a moment's time, and she stood there, staring mutely at the old woman's show. A smile covered her face finally, settling his anxiety somewhat. The old woman handed the statuette over to the blonde.

He did not recall shoving his hand to his mouth, but Ciel found himself chewing on his knuckles as he watched the exchange between Lizzie and the old woman.

"Put Baron Cimetiere in a safe place. Hold him when you pray. You know what it is you must pray for. Take the sachet I gave to your lover and make a tea of it. Your friend will be with you again within the year."

"Thank you Madam," Lizzie whispered, pressing her lips to the old woman's cheek.

"I am doing this gratuitement on one account," she replied, wagging her bony finger at Lizzie's face.

"Anything, Madam," Lizzie assured, clutching the statuette to her chest.

"When she is with you again, you must bring her to me. I have had no children to pass my gift on to and I will not be here for many more years. I want to see her, and when she is old enough, I want to teach her."

Ciel's ship had sailed past confused some time ago. Child? Menefer old enough to learn? Surely, she cannot mean... Lizzie's eyes met his and she saw the discomfiting bewilderment in the crease of his brow. Her smile grew ten-fold. Oh, gods.

Lizzie nodded. "You may train her as long as I get to raise her and love her as she deserves."

"Je suis d'accord."

It was raining the next day; a solemn steady downpour that blotted out the sky and filled the streets and hammered on their umbrellas as the two of them walked quietly to Washington Avenue. They stopped at the iron gates of Lafayette Cemetery No. 1, pausing only to take strength from one another's gazes and lacing their fingers together, Ciel and Lizzie wandered through the rows and rows of crumbling mausoleums on the stone pathway until they spotted Sebastian kneeling before a huge marble affair lit with dozens of white candles.

Ciel supposed it should be strange that candles could remain lit during such a relentless rain, but where Sebastian was concerned, he had learned long ago that not all questions required answers.

They gave him some room, staying several feet back from his hunched form and watched as he spoke to the marble edifice, gently brushing his gloved fingertips over the freshly etched name of Menefer Michaelis (and the fact that Sebastian had chosen to grace Mennie with his name choked Ciel up quite a bit) and alternately, caressing the faded surface where Cybille DeMoreau Corbeau was etched just below. Ciel could see the chipped engraving next to Cybille's that he assumed must have been Sebastian's son, but it was no longer readable and that made the young demon infinitely more sad.

He crushed Elizabeth to his side and pressed a kiss to her temple. She was melancholy, of course, but with the promise of the Voodoo priestess, her spirits had lifted and she had even managed not to cry since yesterday. He turned his attention back to Sebastian as he stood, brushing the creases from the waist of his jacket and Ciel heard him whisper, "Take care of her for me, will you Darling?"

Whether he was speaking to Cybille or Menefer would forever be a mystery to the younger demon. But unlike Lizzie, he could not stop the welling up of tears in his eyes as they approached the tomb.