Never Cry Moon

Blaire was jolted awake by the high-pitched sound of the carriage door creaking open. She sat up slowly, rubbing at her eyes. She hadn't even realised she had dozed off.

"Are we there yet?" She asked, letting out a yawn.

"Indeed, Miss Blaire." Sebastian held out his hand, awaiting her descent. Opting to accept his help this time, she leaned heavily on his offered hand in a bid to ease the weight on her leg.

"What is your surname?" The demon suddenly inquired, noting her struggle. He would have to look at her leg at some point. She would be of no use to him if she was unable to walk properly.

"Coleman." She muttered; her voice strained. As she stepped onto the gravel, she took in her surroundings.

The smog from the industrial heart of London was a distant memory. Sparse silver clouds littered an azure sky, barely covering the winter sun. Now that they were out of the city, the air was even colder and a sluggish wind freely whipped up Blaire's lengthy locks of hair. Dirty towel still in hand, she gripped it around her form tighter. The distant sounds of hooves padding against the ground behind her caused her to turn just in time to see a second carriage leaving the estate.

I wonder who's in there...

The Phantomhive manor itself was a sight to behold. Towering over her, the handsome structure looked out onto vast expanses of interestingly shaped hedges which were dusted lightly with snow. The normally vibrant fern grass was coated in the powder-like snow as well, yet was still reasonably maintained despite the cold temperatures.

She clenched her jaw to stop her teeth from chattering. From her point of view, it was summer merely yesterday. It would take a while for her body to acclimate to these new temperatures being thrown at her.

"I guess Finny is good at his job after all..." She said under her breath.

Sebastian's eyes snapped to her. How did she do that? How did she know Finny's name? She had never been anywhere near the manor before, he was certain. Her scent was new to him and he could tell from the way she paused to observe the grounds, her demeanour being overcome with genuine awe. If she had been stalking the manor, she wouldn't have reacted in such a way, and no human was that good at acting. There were always subtle cues which gave them away and he was able to pick up on them easily. He smirked. Oh, she truly was something special, no matter how much she would deny it.

"Actually, Finny is barely able to manage even the simple tasks when it comes to the garden." He started, beginning to lead her towards the mansion. "It is in fact I, who does most of the chores around here, I'm glad you appreciate it." She side-eyed him. He'd heard that? She could have sworn she only whispered it...

Blaire inhaled sharply, limping along beside him as she grudgingly leaned against his arm. Her attention was abruptly brought back to the demon as he addressed her again, pushing open the heavy oak doors.

"I will call upon our maid to make you presentable enough to meet the young Lord." It would be horribly embarrassing to present her to his master in the state she was in currently. She would be brushed off on the spot. Blaire couldn't help the slightest surge of excitement that rose from within her at the thought of meeting the other servants. "Mey-Rin?" She asked, her face notably brighter.

I wonder what she'll be like in real life...

The demon frowned at this. Why would she be so excited about that? "Indeed..."

Stepping into the spacious entrance hall was a surreal experience. She had seen it many times in cartoon form, though that paled in comparison to standing in the real-life place. High ceilings were supported by gargantuan stone pillars, the marble floor was polished to a spotless shine and their audible footsteps echoed amidst the otherwise empty lobby. The entrance branched off in three directions, including the broad staircase which further diverged two ways and was laden with a lush red carpet. The place was huge. Yet hollow and filled with too much empty space.

"Come." He began to lead her down one of the several hallways on the ground floor. Hobbling along beside him, she scowled at the way he spoke to her.

As they went down the corridor, Blaire wondered if this is what her life would be now. Subservient. The notion made her sigh and her fingernails dig into her palms in frustration. She didn't belong here and clearly, no one was going out of their way to make her feel otherwise.

"Ah, there you are." Sebastian's baritone voice once again brought her back to reality. Her head snapped up to reveal, who Blaire could only assume to be Mey-Rin. The maid was stood dusting one of the many opulent portrait frames hanging on the walls, dressed in a uniform not too dissimilar to what was shown in the animation. Except this one fell to her ankles and was black, not blue. Her coffee-coloured hair was pulled into bunches under the white bonnet placed on her head.

At hearing Sebastian's voice, she turned, adjusting the large circular spectacles on her nose. She paused when she saw Blaire, brown eyes widening momentarily before she quickly regained her composure, her sallow cheeks reddening under Sebastian's stare.

"Were you looking for m-me, mister Sebastian?" She croaked. Her nasally voice held a slight foreign tang as she stood rigid, fidgeting with the duster clasped in her palms.

"I was wondering if you could make our guest here presentable before meeting the young master." Sebastian sent her a smile, one which she couldn't help but become even more flustered at. Though her posture relaxed immediately.

"Y-yes. Of course!" She locked eyes with Blaire, sending her a smile. Blaire noted that her glasses were so thick, she could barely see the woman's eyes. Though it was almost strange, as in the animation all detail was obstructed completely leaving only empty white where her eyes should be. Mey-Rin quickly bowed her head in an attempt to hide under her fringe. "Come with me ma'am- if you please, yes!

Blaire returned her smile and detached herself from Sebastian's arm, wincing at the new weight she had to put on her leg. Limping after the Phantomhive maid, Blaire heard Sebastian call after them. "And Mey-Rin? If you could lend our guest some conventional clothing, I would be most grateful." Blaire paused, her face immediately scrunching at the thought.

Minutes later, Blaire was stood on the reflective black tiles in one of the mansion's bathrooms. Beaming white daylight broke through the tall segmented window, through which could be seen the tops of snow-covered trees as the odd ray of sunlight glanced between the branches. Grey marble walls rose to meet a high white ceiling lined with onyx skirting and a sparkling silver chandelier hung alight in the centre.

Mey-Rin plodded over to the porcelain sink at the other end of the room by the window, leaving Blaire to take in her surroundings with nothing short of wander. She blew out a breath, stepping into the room properly. No bathroom needed to be this big!

She froze momentarily, any look of reverence slipping from her face as in the corner of her eye, she caught her reflection in the mirror. She turned to gape at the image staring back at her, her hands coming to rest on the marble counter to support herself. Her brown hair was completely matted, partly laying slick against her scalp. Residual makeup still resided on her face, faint black lines of mascara drew from her dull, bloodshot eyes and encrusted, dry streams of eyeliner meandered down her cheeks. Her chapped lips pressed into a grim line. She looked crazy. Utterly bedraggled.

The sounds of running water made her head snap around and her heart leap into her throat. However, she relaxed when she saw that it was only a bowl being filled with water. Her hands moved to grip the discoloured dress in her clammy hands, wrinkling the fabric as she tried to regain control of her breathing.

"If you could take those off and wash while I get some clothes for you, yes!" Mey-Rin proclaimed, turning and scurrying out of the bathroom. Hearing the maid's clumsy footsteps grow distant, Blaire threw the hideous garment to the tiled floor. She paused at the bruising along her lower leg, wincing as curiosity brought her fingers to ghost over the mauve contusions. Shaking her head, she moved to where Mey-Rin had left a bowl of water, as well as a cloth and some pears soap. By the time she had scrubbed her face and body clean, Mey-Rin had returned. The door was pushed open and Blaire immediately crossed her arms over her chest. In came Mey-Rin, carrying what Blaire presumed she would be wearing. She strained to keep a straight face, lest she come across as ungrateful.

The brunette maid held up a bundle of clothing. "I hope this is fine. It's one of me uniforms - minus the apron 'course."

Kill me now.

Blaire had been surprised upon discovering that the Victorians didn't wear underwear. At least, not any kind which Blaire was familiar with. Instead, she found herself stepping into what she could only place as a night dress. Painfully unremarkable, the white cotton material fell to her knees. This was followed by a pair of bloomers which hung loosely around her lower thigh and were tied at the waist. Plain white stockings were secured by an equally simple ribbon below the joint. "Another layer...?" Blaire groaned internally when Mey-Rin began to lift a petticoat over the other woman's head.

"Of course!" The maid offered no further explanation. It was common sense, after all.

"Seriously? People just...wear all these layers of clothes even in summer?" She muttered. Blaire's eyes narrowed as Mey-Rin made to grab a certain torture device which she suspected would make an appearance at some point.

She visibly shrank away from the garment. "Can we skip the corset?"

"That's not possible I'm afraid. The bodice wouldn't fit without it and it would be most disrespectful to greet the young Master without being properly dressed." The maid refrained from questioning Blaire at her blatant lack of consideration to propriety. It wasn't her place to pry into the lives of a guest. Though she had to wonder; what kind of woman wouldn't want to wear a corset? It was the height of fashion and gave a desirable body shape! What wasn't to like about it?

"It's a torture device though, don't you think?" Blaire winced as the first of the laces began to be tightened.

"You get used to it!" Came from Mey-Rin, who was stood behind her, frantically fumbling to lace up the back. The undergarment was plain, lacking any lacing or fancy embellishments Blaire had come to know the Victorian era for.

"So... Literally every woman wears a corset?" She asked incredulously. This one was probably less expensive - leading her to believe that even the poor would wear corsets in the name of fashion. The notion brought her eyebrows together in a thoughtful frown.

"Oh yes!" Mey-Rin frowned, pondering how she didn't know that. "It would be most improper not to." Her brow only furrowed further in concentration as her clumsy hands danced over the laces, taking much longer than it should have. Blaire was none the wiser.

"But what if someone was pregnant?" She had always wondered about that. Surely, they might be sensible enough not to-

"Then they'd wear a maternity corset." Came the blunt response, as though she were stating the obvious.

...these people are all bat shit crazy.

Blaire suppressed yet another groan, as over the corset, came yet another layer which the maid described as a "corset cover" at her confused glance and finally, came the dress which was split into the bodice and the skirt.

Blaire stood with her hands clasped at her front, gazing at her new reflection. Face scrubbed clean, hair tied back and flowing black skirts dancing around her ankles as she swayed. She grimaced.

I look like I'm dressed up as a witch. All I need is the hat.

"You don't have some makeup I can borrow, do you?" She asked diffidently, peering at her bare face in vague distaste.

Mey-Rin's eyes widened. "Of course not!" She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Only women of the night paint their face!"

Blaire's mouth made an "o", she cast her mind back to when she had first met Ciel.

No wonder he thought I was a prostitute.

She swallowed, the idea of meeting him properly - even going about her life without any cosmetics - made feelings of insecurity surface from deep within her. Feelings she had hidden away under a mask for a long time. She sighed at the difference in cultures. To her, putting on makeup was a sign of putting some effort into one's appearance. She wished she had paid more attention in history class.

The two women startled at the knock on the door and when it opened to reveal Sebastian proudly holding up a pair of buckle shoes, Blaire raised an eyebrow, feeling truly like a charity case. "You and Finny appear to be of similar foot size. Mey-Rin's seem as though they would be too big." Blaire huffed at the reference to her small feet.

Correct as he was, Blaire could only focus on the corridors as they passed, far too quickly for her liking. She ascended the stairs after Sebastian, her anxiety climbing with them. Her long skirts wrapped around her ankles and her newly constricted torso made the journey unnecessarily difficult. As they came to a still and Sebastian knocked on the door, Blaire shuddered involuntarily. Her breath caught in her throat caused by pure, undiluted fear of the unknown.

What will the Ciel Phantomhive be like in real life?

Sleep while you shall

Await life's darker nightmares