Gilded | By : tinkerheck Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 3151 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, aka Black Butler. I make no money from this fanfiction. |
++++++++ Please see disclaimer & story notes in chapter one ++++++++
++++++++ chapter notes ++++++++
I fly beta-less. Please forgive the typos.
As always, thanks for reading!
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Gilded
Chapter 3
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“Hello, Mistress,” I purred.
I had to keep reminding myself to keep my gleefulness in check, but it was very, very difficult.
Gilda was still in the hospital; my magic ability to heal her only going so far enough to secure she was alive and healthy enough fulfill the contract. She was still quite damaged, but it was no longer immediately life threatening. The ‘blunt force trauma’ to her chest would have been the cause of her death. But the moment I got to her I learned there was much more. I had to act quickly to mark her for the contract or I could not alleviate at least some of her intense pain, let alone save her for dinner. I was going to lose her.
It turns out my worries were unfounded because it only took her point-seven-five seconds to agree.
I will admit that I had broken the rules ever so slightly when I approached her three years ago. Without an impending death and a formal request for demonic help, we can do nothing to change people’s lives. But, as I said, I peruse the files. I sift through mountains of paperwork to find the potential Ciel-like souls. After the disaster with Tomas Solomon, I decided I also needed to meet them first. I needed to get close enough to know if my suspicions were accurate, to smell them, to learn their mindset, to test their blood. When I realized I had hit the jackpot with Gilda Franks, the only thing I could do to help my cause at that point was to make a memorable first impression (and obviously I did) and leave her with a suggestion that would, hopefully, linger on in her beautiful brain. Should the right circumstances ever present themselves, my chances would be quite a bit better than if we had never before spoken.
“… promise me that you absolutely will not accept a contract from a demon other than myself.”
Ah, seduction. It works like a charm.
As she looked up at me, angry and broken, she asked for three things; One, that I buttle for her, as discussed that day at the café, so that she could complete her studies at the music conservatory she was still struggling to attend; two, that I, in the mean time, secure her revenge, which was to destroy her father’s multi-billion dollar corporation and leave him penniless; and three, after consuming her soul, I was to carry out the instructions in her last will and testament to the letter.
I’d never before been asked to do something that would complete the contract after eating the mark’s actual soul, but then life is full of surprises, isn’t it? Technically, I could agree to her terms and never bother with fulfilling that part – the very nature of the pact I make with humans ensures that the contract is completed once I consume them. I could go on my merry way and not bat a single long, silky eyelash at her last wishes.
However… that would not be honorable at all. If I could not perform such a simple thing, what kind of a butler would I be? In any case, it was what she asked for and it’s well within my power to grant such a wish, so I agreed.
That last two parts sounded easy. Honestly, the buttling part was going to be harder than the actual revenge, but I’m looking forward to it! I can hardly wait to see the blinding glare of sterling cutlery, smell the starch of crisp table linens and feel the weight of a polished brass door handle in my palm as I greet the many and varied visitors who have the nerve call on my new Mistress, and then rip them apart. Should she order me to do so.
To continue, after we made our agreement, Gilda’s fatal chest trauma became broken ribs. The rape I could do nothing for, but her broken jaw was now a severely split lip, and a bone break in her left thigh was badly strained quadriceps and hamstrings. All painful, but quite manageable.
Now, the broken ribs meant that I could not seduce and have sex with her for some time. That was a disadvantage for me but I’d get by. The lip was worse. It would be close to a month’s time before I could even steal a proper kiss. Aside from the obvious power that I wield over my prey when I care to get affectionate with them, well… I like kissing, you see. So very tasty.
The leg muscles were a different situation, however, and one that I was looking forward to dealing with. She would be bed-ridden for a spell, and therefore at my mercy. I now had the opportunity to treat her like a queen, thereby ensuring she understood just how loyal I can, and will be, and as a result she will adore me. Furthermore, I know she will thoroughly enjoy it when I apply liniments and oils to her thigh and perform deep tissue massaging on it during her in-home physical therapy. I’m thrilled that particular injury was to her leg and not her arm or hand – for one thing, she is a pianist, and for another, the massaging the thigh gets me closer to the panties, which just may have to be removed lest they get stained.
With the liniment, that is.
I told you I was gleeful.
Her attack was nothing more than misfortune on her part. Poor Miss Gilda had simply found herself defenseless and in the wrong place at the wrong time. Granted, I enjoy seeing my prey suffer sometimes… All right, that isn’t exactly honest. I should say I enjoy watching them, on occasion, struggle. For instance, the way Master Ciel struggled with being treated like a child while he performed the work of an adult. It made me giggle on occasion as it often led to him losing his temper, and that was just so very cute to witness.
However, even I have my limits as to how much of that sort of thing I can witness. Even after saving Gilda from death by partially curing her injuries, seeing her in such pain was unbearable, so I conceded to take the poor young woman to a hospital and I allowed human doctors to work their own brand of magic.
I do not like hospitals. The smell is nauseating; I do not know what is worse about it, the sharpness of the chemicals and medicines or the putrid rank of disease and bodily death. I was not going to be able to stay by her side with that smell crawling up my nose for too long given how agitated I was on top of everything else.
Why was I agitated? Well…
After having thoroughly sniffed Miss Gilda in places that would have made her blush had she been awake to experience it, I had her attacker’s scent. I got her to the emergency room of the nearest hospital and ensured she was in good hands, and then left to locate her attacker and proceeded to scare him to death. Literally.
No, it wasn’t part of our contract… So, yes, I broke another rule. I was simply too angry to control myself that someone, anyone, demon or otherwise, had sullied my precious prize. After all, it had taken me ages to find her, and, more importantly, sullying Gilda was now my job.
Now, to be very clear: yes, I slowly turned her attacker into a steaming pile of inside-out goo, and I said that it was her bad luck that he’d hurt her in the first place. But to be honest… Oh, dear. I really shouldn’t say. But truthfully I should have thanked the lad! The brutal rape was unnecessary in my opinion – I mean really, you humans, you can be so very vile – but the fact of the matter is it was my good fortune that he had beaten her to what would have been her death. Not that I’ll ever admit that to Gilda. If she knew I actually felt that way I’d never be able to remove her panties, and that’d be bad for business.
So, after killing the nut-job, I returned to her side and endured the smells. It wasn’t so bad as long as I stayed in her private room and concentrated on her scent. It was still off, but I would certainly fix that.
Can you imagine my surprise when that wretched Undertaker showed up – and as a modern county coroner no less? He was disappointed that Gilda had no work for him because of my “filthy demonic interference”. He’d giggled as he’d said it – I ask you, what in the bloody hell is wrong with him? I wanted him gone, so I politely told him to sod off, and that Gilda was mine, thank you very much, and it would be a very long time before she was in need of his services.
Then he politely reminded me that dragging my heels with the Earl of Phantomhive was precisely what led me to losing him in the first place. I glared at his back when he finally left. Faugh! The Undertaker, I tell you. That lab coat-wearing ID-badged freak of nature, defecating in my hard-won basket of glee.
And now, thanks to mister Nosy Parker, it was only a matter of time before Grell Sutcliffe overheard the news that I had a fresh mark on a rare, delicious soul, and the flaming red tornado would return, trying to steal my prize and stuff his face down my trousers.
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It was now several hours later and Gilda was finally awake, and I felt a strange sense of relief to see her open her eyes. My mistress, my delicious meal, was safe.
“Alex…?” She tried to focus on me as her voice broke with lack of use and dehydration. Gently, I pressed a glass of cool water to her lips and she drank. I watched her throat as she swallowed greedily, beautiful tendons and muscles working and convulsing together, alive, mine, and once again I suppressed a giggle as I couldn’t believe my luck.
She noticed my smile and frowned up at me when she pushed the glass away, indicating she’d had enough.
“Why are you so happy?”
“I am happy to see you again, Miss Gilda Franks. I am relieved you are alive. I am ecstatic that you thought to call for me in your hour of need.” I sat next to her on the hospital bed, brushing the hair from forehead. Humans like that.
“Oh. Okay. So all those black feathers… The glowing eyes and the forked tail, those heels… You mean to tell me that shit wasn’t a dream where I was idealizing Dr. Frank-N-Furter?”
I had no knowledge of this physician she referred to, but I pressed on. “Well, no, it wasn’t.” She raised her eyebrows. I needed to defuse the situation quickly, lest Gilda’s substantially secular thoughts go off on a tangent about God and demons and the afterlife and all that rot. Hopefully, she’d just accept the situation so that we could move forward.
“That was my true form, yes. The tail is a new addition, as it happens! I’ve only just let it grow. Tell me, did you like it? Was it too much black? Was it me?”
She took a breath, eyeing me speculatively. “You really are a demon, then?”
Ah, good. She’s on board. And with all the extras as well, no doubt.
“Yes, Mistress. Do you believe me now?”
Gilda reached down to where her contract mark danced a perfect circle around her navel under the atrocious hospital gown.
Well at the least she remembers our little talk in the alley.
“It still tingles,” she whispered up at me, rubbing her stomach through the thin fabric.
Gods above and below, who on earth still thinks that mauve is a good color for clothing? I simply couldn’t wait to get that rag off of my mistress and start dressing her precious body in all the designer clothing I had yet to buy! So much to do! So much preparation!
Yes, we are tamping the glee down. Again.
“I’m afraid it will tingle for some time my dear. It will never fully stop being sensitive until our business with each other is done, but it will lessen.” I frowned, then added, “It… it doesn’t hurt, does it?”
“No,” she croaked, then added miserably, “And it’s the only part of me that doesn’t.”
I smiled, placing my gloved hand over hers, feeling the fresh bond of the contract mark vibrating quietly underneath, right though the flesh, blood and bones of her talented hand. I rubbed tiny circles on her knuckles with my thumb, cooing, “There, there…” She whimpered some, then cried a little. I was positive it was not because of me.
I let her have her little moment of weakness. She was after all, still in a great deal of pain and hadn’t even begun to deal with the emotional trauma of what had happened to her. I knew she remembered our deal making, but I was not sure how much of the actual attack she remembered, or even if she knew she had been raped.
Perhaps now was not the time. She’d find out, or be told, or remember, all soon enough. And when that happens, I’ll be right by her side, supporting her, just like now.
When she was done with her crying jag, I wiped her pretty face clean with a soft, wet cloth – having to refrain from using my tongue instead. I shall remind you one last time; One hell of a butler… and a demon.
It was time to start wheedling my way into her heart. “By the way, Miss Gilda, does your forehead hurt?” She eyed me again, obviously still trying to work me out.
“No… it’s fine. Why?”
I smiled at her, and leaned in close. Her eyes widened in apprehension slightly, but her smell did not reek of fear. “So that I can do this,” I said quietly, and kissed her forehead.
Oh… there it was. Hiding under all the acrid medicines running through her blood and the antiseptic smell that had settled on her skin. Pure Essence of Gilda Franks. It rose up then, growing stronger with my flirtatious affection and permeated my senses through my slightly open mouth – a mouth that refused to leave her skin. I found myself wanting to take a very large bite, but I pulled away before I lost all control, smirking and licking my lips.
She looked up at me, blushing – Oh! how I have missed thee, magenta – and very confused. I wasn’t about to explain myself. “I need to have a discussion with your doctor. We need to get you home as soon as possible so that I can nurse you back to health and get your normal activities back on their proper track.”
“Don’t I have to see a police officer… make a statement or something?”
“There isn’t really a need for that. I can tell them that you don’t want to make one and that all you want is for your butler to take you home. Miss Gilda, your attacker had fled the scene before I got to you… and, he will never be found now anyway.” I tilted my head at her and decided to test her strength. You may think it cruel of me, but I do hate waiting. “Having them run a – what did they call it? A rape kit? Doing that is entirely your decision, but I can tell you that since he is no longer alive to be jailed, it will only result in more pain for you.”
“Oh…” she muttered, looking down. Whether it was mixed emotions at the knowledge that I had already killed for her, or confirmation that she had indeed been violated sexually, I could not be sure. More than likely it was both. In any case, there were no more tears and I was very proud of my new Mistress for that.
+
“This is where you live?” I asked, disgusted.
Two days went by with Gilda confined to the hospital for ‘observation’. I probably could have left her there to start making arrangements for her fabulous new life, but after the encounter with the Undertaker, I simply did not trust to leave her alone. Oh well, more buttling for me!
While Gilda slept and gained some strength, I asked after her physician – the one with the unfortunate name like breakfast meat. Oddly enough, the nurses gave me some very displeased looks and I never did locate him. I was finally able to corner the presiding physician and convinced him to release Gilda, so I could take her home. I decided to start with what she had, and go from there. Little did I know that she had so very… little.
I’d hired a cab to drive us to her place of residence. I got her out of the cab easily enough. She put her arms around my neck as I picked her up, and I noted that she smelled so much more like herself, which did wonders for my mood. She also did not seem to have any apprehension at all about me touching her, or her touching me in kind. This was a plus. Gently, I put her into the wheel chair, and then pushed her into the building. We took the elevator to her tiny fifth-floor apartment.
Her living situation was a disaster. This wasn’t going to work, and I could remedy it easily enough, but I had to be careful about how I approached it, how I approached Gilda, specifically.
Ciel had been an ingrate at first, citing that the sheer unbelievable nature of me snapping my fingers and him suddenly having a completely restored estate was too suspicious and would simply raise too many questions. I remember how angry he had made me. Now, I do confess I was expecting nothing less of Ciel to get down on his knees and suckle me – what do you call it? A blowjob? Yes, I think that’s right. Nut-job, blowjob, oh you humans are so clever. In any case I expected one as thanks. Obviously that did not happen, but I was, at least, hoping for the words ‘excellent work, Sebastian’ to come out of his pretty little mouth. Instead I was practically slapped in the face.
It got much worse before it got only marginally better… As his butler, I had to learn how to make delicious human food, not simply handle and prepare the raw ingredients until they looked pretty. I had to learn that the temperature of water that was acceptable for a human bath and a pot of tea were not the same – that made for an interesting evening!
I wasn’t alone in my naiveté. Ciel had to yet to grasp basic manners, let alone the propriety that his position as Earl of Phantomhive required. It had been very difficult for both my master and myself, but we did, eventually, work things out. Now that I know better, now that I already know exactly how to perform the duties of one hell of a butler, I wanted to use that knowledge to avoid any such conflicts with Gilda. But how far she would go in letting me fix things quickly, I did not yet know.
“Yeah, Alex, this is where I live… I may be a musical prodigy but I’m still poorer n’ shit, remember?” There was a note of irritation to her voice.
I reminded myself to tread carefully. I decided to try appealing to her through something I already knew about her, that I could use against her… that deep sense of justice.
“You deserve much better than this filthy hole, Mistress. And I can give that to you, if you will allow it.”
“How?” she asked as I picked her up out of the wheelchair and set her down on her used, dirty couch. Her voice sounded incredulous, just like it had been at the café three yeas ago, but now it was laced with a bitterness as well. The sort of vitriol that can only be forged by hard knocks. I didn’t want that bitterness to go any further than it already had.
I glanced down at the used coffee table in front of the couch. There before me was a long piece of canvas, with thick, shiny paint decorating it in a distinct pattern. When it dawned on me that the strip of canvas was a perfect match to the keys of a piano, I knew how bad off she really was financially. She didn’t even have a piano to practice on at home… she had been sitting on the carpet in front of the coffee table, writing her symphony and striking imaginary keys… hearing the music only in her head. Like Beethoven.
I simply had to upgrade her living arrangements.
Getting down on my knees, I looked in her eyes and took her hands in mine.
“You need to concentrate on your studies in order to fulfill one part of our contract – completing your studies, yes? And I need to create an environment where you can do just that – so that you will not worry about my end of the contract. Also, for me to do my part, I simply need more resources than what you have here.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What do you have in mind?”
“Let me go out for the night. I will find what I need and come get you in the morning. In the meantime, pack whatever you wish to take with us.” I sneered as I said it, looking around the room. There couldn’t possible be anything in the apartment she’d miss.
“You aren’t going to kill anyone in the process.”
“No, I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“That wasn’t a question, Alex.”
I smirked at her. “Oh, yes. I see. Miss Gilda, I’m afraid that when you give orders, they will have to be indentified as such.”
She paused, looking snide. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. I don’t do that – well, much of that, either. I guarantee you will know when I am kidding. And teasing. And flirting.” I smiled sweetly. Gilda sighed.
“All right. In procuring what you need to perform your duties as my butler and to fulfill our contract, I order you,” and here she rolled her eyes and it was so terribly fetching, “not to kill anyone or anything in the process.”
I winced.
“Oh, Jesus Christ, what now?!”
“I’m afraid I probably will have to exterminate insects or vermin. And that would be killing a ‘thing’, as you put it.”
“Bugs. I am perfectly okay with you killing any and all bugs. And skunks. And rats. Mice, not so much, they are kind of cute, but if you gotta, okay. Bats, snakes, yes… as long as they are not endangered.”
I didn’t know she was such an environmentalist. What a nuisance.
“Anything else, Mistress?”
She glanced up at me, biting the inside of her cheek. Good Lord, she was pouting.
“Mistress?”
“Bunnies,” she finally admitted. “I like bunnies. Don’t kill any bunnies. Or deer. Or doggies. Or foxes. Or – ooh! Or stray cats! Kill no cats! Got it?”
Cats.
She liked cats.
Mmmmm…
+
“Holy crap.”
I lifted Gilda out of the back seat of her limo, and helped her stand to take a good look at her new property. I cradled her waist in one arm to support her, and I was grateful that she leaned right into my side, no hesitation at being close. That was a good sign.
“This… this is where you live?”
“It is your residence, Mistress,” I corrected gently. “All yours.”
She looked the pristine brick manor up and down, perhaps not yet believing it was her home. “Huh. I had no idea they tore down the old Wrigley place and built a new house over it. How can you afford this?”
“I didn’t have to. They didn’t build it. This estate and the grounds it is on have been up for sale for decades. They were selling it as is, and it was inexpensive, considering. After I found the property, I...”
Oh dear. How was I going to put this? I didn’t kill anyone, just as I had promised her. Still…
“Well, Miss Gilda, shall we say… I simply convinced the real estate agent that you had already purchased it, and I had the paperwork secured from him within three-quarters of an hour. Then I returned here, and restored the manor and grounds last night as you slumbered.”
“You…” She glanced over at me, looking slightly worried. Oh, dear. I hoped she wasn’t going to berate me like Ciel did. What a bad start that would be. “No one got hurt, right?”
“Not a single, solitary scratch on him. You have my word,” I said, placing my free hand over my black heart. Oh, this new age and all its laws! Killing people to get what I wanted was not so easy anymore. It was going to be damn tricky to work around, but I would find my way.
In any case, it was the truth, I never touched that real estate agent. The man’s psyche, however, won’t be recovering so soon. Gilda needn’t know that. The poor dear had enough to concern herself with for now. Like getting healthy, so that… Oh, how had she put it when we first met three year ago? Fuck me silly for free? I believe that was what she had written on her charming little list of pros and cons. So many succulent things to look forward to…
“You made this? How?”
I smiled down at her sympathetically. She needed a hot breakfast, a bath, and a bed to begin recuperating in. But first I needed to give her a treat, something to make her see that these little talents of mine were hers to use as she saw fit, right up until the moment I ate her soul. Something that would endear me to her. Something personal.
“What sort of tree is your favorite, Miss Gilda?”
“Um… what?”
“What is your favorite tree? It’s a simple question.”
“All right, all right. I like Japanese maples the best.”
I snapped my gloved fingers, and poof! The long, paved drive was artfully lined on either side with countless varieties of mature, beautifully cultivated Japanese Maples, starting at the yard in front of the manor, all the way down to the security gate at the road. There were Dwarf Variegated Butterflies, Green Cascades, and Red Filigree Lace just to name a few… but my personal favorite, for obvious reasons, was the Bloodgood.
Her new trees stood their ground as though they had been there for several decades. It was mid-September and the foliage was just starting to turn. The morning sun beat down on us from a clear blue sky, and everywhere you looked you saw brilliant hues of maroon, wine, pink, red, orange, gold…
These were only trees. If I was lucky, her taste in everything else was just as good. And I must admit… my handiwork, when not being criticized by a bratty, precocious young man, could be spectacular. I certainly hoped my new mistress was going to let me have the run of the place in that regard.
Gilda had fallen quiet and I looked down at her. Eyes-wide as she stared at her beautiful new trees, she was making that ‘o’ again with her no-doubt delicious mouth. My thoughts turned indecent for a moment – honestly, how could I help myself? – then I got back on track. There was, after all, so much to do!
She elicited a small, adorable squeak as I picked her up in my arms and headed to the front door. “Um… are you actually carrying me over the threshold, Alexander?” She said, giggling as we entered her new home. “Isn’t that, like, what honeymooners do?”
Finally. Something I could work with.
“If you say so, my dear Mistress.”
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tbc
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++++++++ notes ++++++++
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