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Together Again	By : CheshireCity Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 2888 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler and make no money from the works of Yana Toboso.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
“Together Again”

Chapter Seven

Lycaeides Melissa Samuelis

"Without, the sun shines bright and the birds are singing amid the ivy on the drooping beeches. Their choice is made, and they turn away hand-in-hand, with their backs to the darkness and their faces to the light."

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (The White Company)

The bureau creaked a tremulous groan of indignation as the two bodies cast upon it. Puckered rivulets of pink ran down the earl’s back, the reminders of the now-daily activities: the morning wake ups and tea time lounges and after dinner parties. They faded beneath the demon’s lathing tongue, which drank up every last blemish his claws and fangs had bit into the pristine white skin. Hours later, they would be painted anew and his mate would throatily moan at every lusty brand of possession. Like beings consumed, they belonged to no one but each other.

Ciel’s nails clattered across the lacquered surface, gasping heavily as he sought purchase before the broken mirror. The demon hummed at the erotic display, trailing his fingers down the earl’s exposed and streaked back. The hips pinned beneath his own were still purple with rosettes left from the night before. He had generously rewarded his mate for a performance of his own; the scent of Darjeeling and honey still clinging to his chest standing as testament. He palmed and smoothed over the bruised hips, eliciting more delicious moans from Ciel.

He smelled like a fucking bakery. Natural scent sweetened by pregnancy – by their kit – and by sex and perfumed sweat. Kissable and lovable and fuckable. Sebastian growled pleasurably and curled his fingers through his mate’s hair, tugging silken fistfuls gently back and baring the delicate curve of his neck. The gentle rumble of speech met his lips as he grazed across the offered flesh, his free hand caressing the swell of the earl’s ass, toying with him.

“I hope you understand that you are a relentless p– !”

A satisfactory “oh” punctuated his accusation as Sebastian plunged a single finger inside of him.

“Pervert!”

“Forgive me for speaking out of place,” the demon countered with an aroused chuckle. “But you hardly seem to have any qualms about it,” The feel of Ciel tightening from the suggestion thrilled him and he bent over the quivering body, letting his breath ghost over the shell of the younger’s ear. “Darling.”

“Nnngh.” The other choked back in pleasure, keening against the hot breath and the almost-there kisses. The hand loosened from his hair and slipped around the front of his throat, caressing it and skimming nails over the hollows of his clavicles.

“It never ceases to amaze me how that single word can drive even you over the edge.” Sebastian purred, curling his fingers about the other’s chin and raising it until two-toned eyes met the cracked surface of the mirror. He looked positively wrecked: curls of hair stuck to his brow, cheeks flushed, lips parted and pink from passionate kisses. Ciel tried to turn away from his own image, whimpering in embarrassment, but the demon merely laughed in amusement and turned him back.

“S-stop that…” The mumble broke off to another sweet gasp as the fingers inside him rubbed persistent circles across that spot. The flush deepened as he watched pleasure contort his own features, and the demon laughed huskily.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, my lord.” He hummed, eyes flicking into feline slits the second he knew he had captured the other’s attention. There was something enthralling about the teen beneath him: the genuineness of his moans, the whimpers of shock at each spark of pleasure, the curious explorations of a new, lewd persona. Sebastian had taken others in this way: a smirking lad with fiery auburn hair and a blonde with heaving breasts that had looked so tantalizing pressed up against her vanity. But they were markedly different, lost souls and drunken frills eager to forget their obligations and spouses. Dark thrills with no emotions.

The face reflected back to him – eyes clenched shut, bottom lip worried by a row of neat teeth as pleasure shifted Ciel’s hips against his butler’s hand – was one he wanted to burn into his memory. His mate. Not some toy or some disposable prostitute, someone loving and trusting enough to let him in. Ciel, of all individuals, who had been hurt deeper than words could encapsulate. Scarred and shamed in ways that had built up walls reinforced with steel and bitter retorts. All of that was crumbling away and something beautiful was thawing out between them, something near tangible. He wanted to see that proof and to let Ciel understand it too.

The frenzied actions, the scandalous whispers, the hasty sessions before an appointment: all of it would have amounted to nothing were it not with Ciel. “My beautiful darling,” the demon crooned to himself, letting his hands trail lower across his lover’s chest, capturing a pert nipple and rolling it between his fingertips. “Let me show you every act of passion I know; let us discover them together.”

Ciel writhed and moaned beneath him, breath coming in short pants and fogging the surface of the mirror. “I cannot let you look away, my love. You need to see how far we’ve come.” Tongue flicked out over dry lips as the explanation still hung in the air between them.

“You see – this way I will be able to enter you as deeply as possible, but still be able to see your beautiful expression as I make you cum for me.”

The resulting gasp was delicious and soon it rose to a symphony of soft pants and moans as Sebastian slid inside of him. Again fingers fought for purchase to no avail, clinging to the mirror’s frame, to the edges of the bureau. Anything. Ciel’s head tossed back, dark fringe splaying out over his back, spine arching against the wanted intrusion.

“No.” he groaned, pitching forward and burying his face into the crook of his arm. His mate stilled, heart racing and urging him to continue. Yet, small spirals of fear snaked into his gut and he maintained, stroking gentle circles against the younger’s hips.

“Ciel?”

“Have I offended you this time? I would never want –.”

“No.” the earl repeated, shaking his head firmly in his conviction. “No. I look –.”

The demon watched closely as dichromatic eyes matched themselves in the mirror, introspective and anxious. They lowered, as though ashamed of the answer they found.

“Helpless.”

“Hmm.” The demon hummed measuredly, once more stroking the blushed cheek of his mate. Fingers slipped away from the bruised hip and wrapped around the earl, beginning slow strokes as Sebastian nuzzled against the shell of the younger’s ear. “I like when you look helpless.”

As he had predicted, the stiffness returned to his mate’s shoulders, the thrum of his heart sped up for the demon’s ears only. He had chosen his words precisely this time. Slowly he began to move, thrusting in rhythm with his strokes. The earl shied away from the hot kisses falling down his back, but the demon wouldn’t let him delve back in to his fear.

“But,” he continued, feeling the breath hitch in the throat beneath his fingertips. “I’m the only one allowed to see that face.” A tortured moan answered him, coupled with the steady rocking of hips. The demon hummed darkly, watching every flitting emotion in the mirror, drinking in every hazed and lust filled expression that filled Ciel’s being. Again those hips met his in sharp thrusts, issuing forth encouraging mewls. Again and again until the graceful neck craned forwards, dampened hair parted to expose skin, pristine white and slightly flushed, the juicy flesh of an apple. There, in the crook of his neck, peeked the scarred crescent of their mate mark. Sebastian nestled against it, sampling the sensitive region with swaths of his tongue, groaning as pleasure filled them both. Fangs grazed across it gently, having already tasted the forbidden joy of their coupling.

“You will never be helpless in the eyes of another.” He whispered huskily, pressing another kiss to the mark and snaking a hand forward to lace with Ciel’s. Shaking fingers squeezed back in earnest. “Have I ever let one who saw your begging face live?”

The demon thrust powerfully into his mate, nuzzling the other’s neck and patterning his shoulders with kisses. A rhetorical question he didn’t need the answer to. “No one.” He growled. The flash of a small smile spurred him on as he watched them part into another gasp. “I am the only one allowed to see you like this, master.”

A deep thrust and a stroke, thumb pressing against the tip of Ciel’s member, slicking over the pre-cum. His eyes screwed shut as the earl keened into his agonizing touch, shaking beneath his hands. Groaning in pleasure, he secured his spare hand back against the other’s hip, steadying him and increasing their rhythm. Their actions, their voices, all of it was loud but the demon couldn’t bring himself to care. Shame was something, after all, that he had thrown out years ago. “At least when it comes to this.” He grinned to himself, delighting in the darkening blush of his mate’s cheeks.

“You’re beautiful.” He purred, staring heatedly into their reflection, pinning Ciel with his gaze. Already he could feel his mate’s legs begin to shake. Close now. They watched each other through the cracked surface: it was some fascinatingly lewd show with actors that looked like them, surely. So strange how two weeks had brought them to this, the constant shagging and stolen kisses, hiding from the others in dark corners of the manor and laughing about it later. It was some mirrored alter life that Sebastian never wished to awaken from.

A gentle whimper and Ciel was arching up again, tightening around him as he came hard against the bureau. The demon gently bit his shoulder, holding him in place, both shaking and uncomfortable but oh that angle, and Ciel was still grinding back against him, riding out the last of his climax, eyes never straying from the butler’s heated gaze. It took little else and Sebastian was wrapped about his mate, impassioned fingers digging new rosettes of bruises against his hips as he found release.

With a heady laugh he spun Ciel around, kissing him with gentle, open-mouthed kisses that were dazedly returned. There was cum on the drawers, but he could always clean it later – their frequent rendezvous had him constantly cleaning precarious locations (the oriental rug had been a particular bother) – and the earl was curling into his arms. Gently, he pressed him to the mattress, burying him in the strewn depths of the feather-filled duvet and smooth cotton sheets. Still catching his breath, he straddled his mate and kissed him deeply.

“You’re relentless.” The earl teased, smiling wryly as he allowed himself to be pulled to his side and cradled. Sebastian hummed contentedly, nuzzling against his neck.

“One day I’ll teach you what all of these physical gestures mean.” He thought, pressing a kiss to his mate’s bare shoulder. “These motions of thanks and affection – I wonder, can you identify some of them already?”

They lay in silence a moment more, listening close to one another’s shallow breathing. Ciel fingered the planes of his butler’s chest absently, keening forward in a feline way he had yet to understand. A small smile quirked over the demon’s lips. He still had so much to teach him. The blood of their child mixing with his mate’s promised them time, precious time that slipped away from reach with every human second. But it would be enough.

Two weeks and they had become entangled so deeply in one another’s sheer being. It was a blesséd thing, yet it came with a price. Two weeks was what they had been given, and Sebastian hadn’t forgotten. It was an anxiety that curdled in his gut, but the sex and affirmations and reaffirmations that his world was indeed real pushed it all from his mind. The assailants would return, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore – he had Ciel and a kit on the way, and together they had a future and a shot at happiness. He would decimate anything that tried to get in the way of that ideal.

“I will shelter you from every ill.” He thought vehemently, threading his fingers through Ciel’s hair. The other hummed at the gentle action, following their secret biddings and inclining his face to meet his butler’s.

“I love you.” He said in a breath.

“As I love you, darling.” The demon replied with a gentle smile, capturing his young mate’s lips in another kiss. It was slower now, tender and lazy. Contentedly they broke apart and Ciel nestled against his chest.

“Sebastian.” He prompted, tugging lightly at the other’s shoulder. The demon quirked a brow at the action and rolled back on top of his mate as requested, unable to suppress the amused smirk.

“Again? Well, not that I’m complaining…”

But no, Ciel was smiling too, shaking his head slightly as though to dispel the demon’s unspoken queries. Gently he took the elder’s hand in his, drawing it open-palmed across his face and letting it rest over his single lavender eye. Sebastian blinked, perplexed, and caressed the side of his mate’s face, blanketing the marked orb with his equally branded hand.

It was so different from before. Dull, wide blue eyes glaring up at him. Face streaked with tears and grime and blood that did not belong to him. A piteous creature behind bars, frail fingers clinging to the rails, nails torn and caked with dirt. Somehow, the dying scraps of spirit had yet to peter out. Demanding yells fit of a being of his pedigree spilling from his lips, tearing from an ill-used and dry throat. Full of blinding hatred and desperation and twisted acceptance. His hand had plunged forward – claws extended, hands wrapped in the material of clothing he had stolen from various others, lovers and whores and those who wished him dead – and had grasped the side of that face. His soap-sweetened palm had closed over a damning blue eye, hadn’t relented under the screams of pain or the warm sensation of blood bubbling up from between the fluttering lids.

Apathy, utter apathy. The contract could have killed the child and it wouldn’t have meant more to the demon than one feels when they turn a page of a book and leave one line of text for another. It would have been a shame though, a waste if not even that could have cured his boredom, could have renewed his life. He hadn’t intended on finding so much in the boy, hadn’t anticipated discarding his cold and callous demeanor, hadn’t meant to play the part so well. Somewhere along the way, those lines had blurred. He wasn’t playing any longer, there was no act, save for the clueless human guests that waltzed their way to and fro the mansion’s stage as mere minor characters. The demon hadn’t meant to feel so exposed, and to not care that he was becoming vulnerable. To feel.

Now nothing was more precious to him, nothing was more sacred, more important. His mate: not a possession, but an equal, someone who deemed him deserving of their love, their heart. Had placed undying trust in him, gave him worth and revealed a part of him he had thought long dead. He was a thawing, winged thing revitalized by the life only Ciel could give him and for the time he was gifted, he was content with his survival resting in that one precarious thing.

The gentle kiss the earl pressed against his wrist brought him back to the present. “You ask why I react to that pet-name in such a way?” The younger began, nuzzling and caressing the near-indistinguishable callouses of his butler’s palm. “It’s because I never believed I would be that to someone.” He parted from the touch, nuzzling his cheek fully into the hollow of the open palm. “And now I have you.”

Joy blossomed in Sebastian’s chest and he cradled his lover’s face in his hands, staring down at him adoringly. The earl blushed and kissed the nearest palm, turned quickly to grace the demon’s lips. “Thank you, my love.” Sebastian whispered, nestling their bodies together. Ciel relaxed against him, familiar with their embraces, and together they drifted off into hazy dreams.

Cosette sunk with a huff against the doorframe, easing upon a shoulder. Cocoa powder dusted her breast, but she hardly noticed it, brushing back limp strands of hair disinterestedly. It fell in weighty curls across her back, frizzy locks still creeping forward in a wreath about her round face. The night had been drizzly, just another glum English night that she hated. The rain always made her hair loose its sheen. “I look like a fucking peasant in her mistress’ borrowed clothing.” She scowled, halfheartedly fluffing the front of her skirts. They rumpled in retort.

She yearned to go back to her beloved Paris and its predictable weather. Escape the cold shouldered winds of the British countryside and the sudden downpours, the suspicious looks and smirks. Where was the pomp, the glamour? All of the splendor of her apartment and its trappings, the fleur de lis in all its glorious patterns embroidered on every article in shining golden thread. The warmth of her people and their secretive smiles. The honey-thick lilt of their voices wrapping about the English language, gliding over their mother tongue. She was sick of British indifference and miserable weather and stupid, outdated wallpapers and of hiding. Oh how she loathed the hiding. She was a creature meant for seducing, for being shown off and preying upon the wealthy and gorgeous at fabulous parties. It was no wonder she was wilting under the conditions.

Disgruntled, she glowered at the opposing wall – sure enough the paper was peeling from its high border, equally disheartened by the cold – waiting to be noticed. At the far end of the dressing room Leona sat before her vanity, perfectly pressed golden tresses and ruby red lips reflecting back at her from the three angled mirrors.

Jealousy snared the succubae’s heart: perfect little Leona, always so graceful and stunningly powerful. The dominant poise she held, the killer’s calm, and yet the seducer’s husky notes and bedroom eyes. It just wasn’t fair. Nothing touched the woman, not the dismal weather, nor the interrupted plans, and certainly not the blasted waiting. Nothing, nothing ever marred her features – even in her blinding rage she maintained her beauty. It was unsettling.

She was an ageless Venus, forever crowned in gold and adoration with cheeks flushed the perfect shade of pink. Cosette’s eyes narrowed, lips licked clean of pigment pursing. Just once, she wanted to see that perfection crack. She thought of the demure woman sitting in a gilded frame at home, a gorgeous reproduction of a Rossetti. Spite drove her to desire. She wanted to sink a knife into the canvas of that flawless face and tear it asunder. The harpy trilled a low coo behind her as it sunk its beak into the mangled carcass of a rabbit as if in quiet agreement. She huffed a humorless laugh at it and it quieted, ducking its bloodied beak into its dinner.

At length Leona turned from the mirrors, brush in hand. She turned her cheek slightly towards the door, shoulder dipping vaguely: all the recognition she would expend. The hem of her robe slipped down her pale skin, a brilliant emerald silk embroidered with narcissus and rhododendron. Cosette didn’t have to draw near to know it matched the shade of the other woman’s eyes perfectly.

“Why do you even care so much, Leona?” she sighed aloud, breaking the insufferable silence. “He’s not –.” She caught herself, wrinkling her nose distastefully. “They’re not worth it.”

The blonde shifted at her velveteen bench, smoky lashes downcast as she toyed with her perfume bottles, letting her claws clink between the glass forms and drag across the wood of her vanity. The black lace of her slip clung to her breasts, a golden locket on a thin chin pressed between them. A token of love given by a handsome aristocrat. But Cosette knew better – she had seen its former owner crumple to the floor as Leona twisted her neck with sickening finality, a placid smile on her painted lips as she slipped the trinket free. It was like living with a slumbering snake: terrifying, perhaps even repulsive, yet beautiful and alluring, constantly reeling her back into the coils of her words.

“Why do you?” the woman countered with an air of disinterest. Cosette stiffened, wrapping her arms about herself defensively as a gaudy blush darkened her cheeks. No words of self-preservation would come, already slowed by the poisonous cruelty of her benefactress. “Is it because you’ve never been refused before, Cosette?” Steady green eyes flickered up in the depths of the mirror, meeting stormy grey, coy painted lips driving home each syllable.

Cosette recoiled, floundering in the sea of memories that rushed forwards. The caulist’s cold smile, the press of his claws bruising her skin, a man with piercing blue eyes laughing merrily and turning that warmth towards another woman, the ageless faces of doll after doll after doll lined in precise little cases about her home, all staring blankly and unsympathetically ahead, cold. Her hands balled into fists around her dress.

“Poor baby.” Leona cooed, pointedly watching every flash of reaction. “Are you losing your touch?”

“I AM NOT!” Cosette shrieked, throwing her arms violently to her sides, eyes burning as they tinged scarlet. The snatcher echoed her pitch, craning its head back with hideous cracks, tossing it this way and that to assess its mistress with one milky eye. The succubus snarled, aware how mad she must appear with her petulant pout and wild hair. The avian cawed uncertainly, letting the carcass plummet to the carpet with a heavy thump as it ruffled its wings into a new vantage. “I refuse to accept that, Leona.” The brunette continued, quieter.

She curled her fingers deep into her fists, balling up her claws as they bit into the flesh of her palms, warm blood gurgling over the nail beds in satisfactory streams. It was sobering, and she pushed her claws in deeper, squeezing the excess to drip in fat drops of the stupid pristine white carpet. It was hard not to giggle at that. Something flawed that no one could deny. But oh if she could just fix that damning woman…

“I’ve just…” she sighed, pausing dramatically and turning towards her snatcher, looping an arm about its thick neck and nuzzling into its plumage. Raw and decaying flesh notwithstanding, her beloved pet was cleaned, feathers oily in all the natural ways, blood only clotting its primaries which dragging across the floor in crimson sweeps whenever it shuffled its massive body. Cosette could feel the sneer of disgust from her partner, and pressed her emotions against the great avian, willing her audience to feel the genuineness of her performance. She imagined the way the wretched caulist had pushed her away as if she were some common jezebelle and not a voluptuous and powerful succubus. A disgrace. “I’ve never been treated that way before, Leona.” She said tremulously. “No one has ever –.”

The gentle creak of wood indicated Leona’s approach, quickly followed by a sigh of resignation. With as close to tenderness as the succubus had encountered from the other woman, Cosette keened in to the arms that embraced her, nuzzling down on her friend’s breast and sighing at the gentle strokes of elegant fingers combing through her bedraggled hair. Was it friendship? Cosette wasn’t truly certain. Leona was, at least, the longest lasting of her companions and the one least likely to be killed by her trademark fits of overenthusiastic joy.

Yet something dark lingered at the dark of her mind, a snide thing that had taken root and refused to be forced out. “Just look at her, feel how supple her breasts are. See how her hair cascades over her shoulders? Her fingers smooth your hair, they never tangle it, they’re never awkward or clumsy. Always always always graceful and eloquent and alluring. Perfect little princess Leona. And she’s older than you, you old cow. Look how the men turn their eyes to her, how they make their wives angry and suspicious. They undress her and fuck her right on the spot, all with their minds. When’s the last time a man treated you that way? Maybe you are slipping, Cosette. Maybe you are some old maid, some scraps no one wants. Such a pathetic fate for a succubus. After all, without your beauty, are you really anything at all?”

A quick kiss to the temple and the tears that threatened to bubble over Cosette’s features vanished. It wasn’t a charade anymore, genuine fear had crawled its way inside of her, drugged her with venomous words. “There now.” Leona said evenly, actions quickly losing their notes of affection. The younger succubus whimpered and pressed closer into the cold open arms. What would it matter if the woman was the death of her, what with her radical plans and precise dates? What would any of it matter, the jealousy and annoyance, when it was the only place she could seek some semblance of shelter and comfort from the slow unwinding of her insecure and anxious mind? “He’s obviously deranged, Cosette –.” The succubus crooned, and the brunette nodded softly to the words, eating them up because she wanted to. “Seeing a human male through with such a disgusting task.”

Cosette sniffled against the elder’s breast, feeling the press of the locket against her cheek and knowing the golden heart was just as cold as the one pounding in the woman’s chest. Red rimmed and tearstained, she raised her eyes to meet unfeeling emerald. “R-really?”

“Really.” The succubus smiled, straightening the brunette in an almost motherly sort of fashion. “And deranged to turn down such a pretty thing such as you.”

Cosette stuffed down all the feelings welling up inside of her and forced out a dazzling grin, flushing with roused excitement. It didn’t matter if the words were hollow, so long as they were said. She could believe there was sincerity there, if she tried hard enough. She could make herself believe it. Ecstatically, she threw herself at the blonde, pressing her to a tight hug.

“Thank you so much Leona! La, I feel like I’ve gotten my second wind!” Childishly she dabbed at her eyes, scuffing away the beads of tears with the heels of her palms. No, laughter was too much for now. The anger surged forward, coupled with indignation. They had made her feel like this, forced her back to this place she hated so much, hated more than all of drizzly Britain and all of its wretched, bitter inhabitants. They wouldn’t be let off so easily; she wouldn’t be so brazenly shamed without harsh retribution.

She balled her fists together beneath her breasts, almost in the mockery of prayer, looking for all the world like a doe eyed young girl who had caught sight of a fancy pair of slippers she desperately wanted. Save, of course, for the wicked smirk that twisted her lips, the cheerful demeanor not gone but tainted with dark amusement. “So which one would you like?”

“Darling,” Leona laughed. “You always know how to bounce right back!”

The brunette grinned broadly back, flipping away locks of hair that slipped over her shoulder. “Indeed I do!” she giggled pleasantly, torn-up palms flapping. “Now! Tell me, tell me Leona! Which one do you want?”

“I think I’ll leave disposing the abomination to you, lovie.” The blonde crooned, fingering the rich fabrics of her wardrobe before selecting a plush white robe and exchanging her silk one for it. “It’s only fair for you to do so;” she continued, luxurious halo of hair spilling out in waves over the collar. Cosette found nothing fair about that. “I think offing that blood traitor’s kin will twist his unfeeling heart more than I ever could.”

Cosette watched quietly as the serpent awakened, something warm and malicious flickering behind her cold and gemlike eyes. Wordlessly she submitted to the creature before her as it examined its precisely shaped claws, a wistful smile quirking over its lips. “Not that I wouldn’t try.” It crooned. Cosette shivered.

“So have you told him yet?”

Agni paused in his work, straightening up to look over at the back of the demon’s head.

“Beg pardon?”

“Have you told him yet?” Sebastian repeated, turning around in his seat and letting the desk bite into his back. He laughed at his friend’s confusion as he attempted to work out the ambiguous query. A steady blush crept across his cheeks and he folded the laundry with particular gusto, determined not to look the demon in the eye.

“I… well…” he began awkwardly, recalling the conversation they had shared weeks prior by the warmth of the kitchen fire. When he had failed to properly fold a shirt three times consecutively he gave up with a sigh and pulled up a chair. They sat in the steward’s office, cramped between the two of them, but Sebastian didn’t mind it. At the main estate he had grown into his position with Tanaka by his side, guiding him with wise words and a hard hand. Or, rather, a hard spoon. The close quarters felt companionable all the same.

“What are you working on?” he redirected, light blue eyes darting to the sheaf of paper in the caulist’s hand. Sebastian smiled wryly and shook his head, letting the other man win temporarily.

“A Christmas list, more or less.” He explained, ticking off the items one by one, making sure he hadn’t left anything out. “Next Sunday it will be precisely five weeks until the holiday. It probably sounds as though I’m getting ahead of myself, but it does take a while for orders to go through in a timely fashion.”

Agni cocked his head in genuine interest. It was a habit that Sebastian had picked up on quickly, one that always seemed to go along with his fellow butler’s confusion about foreign habits. “What things need to be done?”

“You recall the last few years, I presume?” He asked, continuing at the resulting nod. “I need to check inventory for all of the current decorations and order anything that needs replacing. I’ll have to call for the trees and choose a theme to decorate them with. I also need to make certain that all of the food will be available for the feast, and the orphanage needs to be contacted to make arrangements for the annual Phantomhive charity night. In addition to that, I need to write off an order to Louis Prang – he designs the company’s lithograph holiday cards, we’ve gotten into the habit of sending them now that the Queen has taken favour to them. Along with that, I’ll need to choose a design and order a set or two of calling cards for the holiday season that will carry my lord out into the New Year. Not that he travels extensively, but I might as well do the same for Master Soma, if you find it suitable?”

“Ah… yes, I believe that would make him feel better integrated.” Agni nodded slowly, overwhelmed by the wealth of information. “While it isn’t a tradition we celebrate, is there anything I might be able to aid with? It sounds as though you have a lot more than usual on your plate.”

“Well,” the demon smirked, raising from his seat and tugging on his jacket. “I suppose you could be in charge of getting mistletoe.”

“Mistletoe?” the other blinked. “That’s a plant, correct?”

“Ah, but mistletoe comes with its own tradition.” Sebastian corrected wryly. “When two people pass under it, they are expected to kiss - you can thank pagans and their Loki for that. It is usually a tradition for lovers… and I believe I’ve allowed you long enough of a delay. You’re avoiding my prior question.”

The Bengal butler opened his mouth to retort but closed it with a look of defeat. “There’s no getting around you, is there?” he sighed amicably, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can tell from the… evening performances that you managed to confess successfully.”

Sebastian grinned unabashedly in reply. “So they can hear us at night. It’s practically thrilling; how good of them not to comment until now.”

“I believe ‘success’ is putting it mildly.” He returned with a pointed look. “But I’m more interested in yours, if it is success at all, that is.”

“It is!” Agni retorted, flushing slightly at the admission. “You know me, my friend; I keep to my word… even if I don’t wish to.”

“It was in your best interest.”

“Yes, I truly think it was….” The other butler trailed off, much to his companion’s amusement. He coughed and tugged down the collar of his sherwani, revealing a sizable purple bruise at the base of his neck. “If that’s any indication.” He muttered softly, quickly hiding the mark again.

Sebastian quirked a slender brow at him. “Rather successful, I’m taking it. I apologize, friend, I believe I doubted you for a moment.” Crimson eyes flashed to the thick collar then back to the butler’s face. “Though really, it is a wonder that he can keep quiet even from my range of hearing.” Instantly Agni coughed in response to the blatant suggestion, not bothering to offer a correction. “I suppose then that people truly do live through two personas, mn?” Sebastian finished, smiling with feline satisfaction.

“I… I do suppose that can be the case, yes.” The Indian nodded graciously, side stepping the flamboyant innuendos.

“I must thank you, though.” The demon said, growing serious. The other blinked up at the change of expression, surprise fading into a trademark smile of benevolence as he registered the genuineness of his friend’s words. “My life has incontrovertibly bettered as a result of my actions, and I have you to thank for emboldening me to act thus. I tease you, yet I am equally glad that you’ve found your happiness as well.”

“If anyone deserves this turn of events, it’s certainly you.” He finished, echoing his sentiments from the time before.

Agni offered a humble smile and returned to his laundry, a bit more cheerfully than before. “I am glad that it made a difference for you, Sebastian. I also thank you for your insistence in this matter: I doubt I ever would have approached such a topic otherwise.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement and stretched before heading towards the door. A foreign flicker of indignation passed through him and he smirked, recognizing the distant emotions of his mate. “Soma must be giving him hell over something.”

“Speaking of our masters,” he pressed gently. “I believe I should go and attend to them now; they’ve sat with tea for twenty minutes or so unsupervised, so you know something must be transpiring.”

His friend laughed and wished him luck in the endeavor, and within seconds Sebastian appeared upon the patio, already smirking as he registered the tart that had sailed past his master’s ear – it was good to see the prince’s youthful effect on Ciel. Before the occupants could notice him, he snapped to the earl’s side, easily taking hold of his wrist as the pale fingers twitched forward to lob a pastry of his own.

Ciel blinked at the gentle force, staring at the gloved fingers as though genuinely puzzled how they came to be there. Slowly he looked up, sapphire eye clouded with disgruntled confusion. The butler merely laughed and moved the offending hand to cup the filigree edge of his saucer. “Now you weren’t about to begin throwing food like a child now, were you master?”

The earl rolled his eyes at the demon’s chiding tone, redirecting his gaze beyond the covered porch to the garden. Sebastian followed his gaze a moment, skimming over the scalloped hedges to the ornate rows of purple and white flowers, dotted here and there with blushing pinks and vibrant yellows. The petals swayed as the breeze toyed with them, unusually spry for the harshness of the British winter. The demon’s horticultural talents had been the envy of many an aristocrat, ladies eagerly bustling through the manicured gardens while their husbands attended business indoors with the earl.

“I don’t know how you manage it!” they would gasp in wonder, stroking the healthy stems with their gloved fingers. “My garden is always all withered and brown this time of year, no matter what I have planted. Truly you are gifted with this, Mr. Butler.”

Sebastian would always smile good naturedly and suggest a hearty decorative bush or two that he knew the ladies would never remember and turn them about to the green house for tea. He was adept, he supposed, at the art, but he knew that a large portion of his competency was borrowed. Demonic speed and agility led to boredom and Infinite boredom led to dedicating obscure knowledge to memory. He had leafed through page after page of botanical research and ladies magazines about flower culture. He knew the language of floral symbolism and had arranged grand gardens in accordance to it, willing the seeds to grow at an unnatural rate with a mere snap of his fingers. Granted, the fertilizer he stocked up on helped.

“Wot’ve you gone an’ planted for?” the mortician had casually asked some years prior.

“I’ve read that natural beauty can alleviate depression.” He had replied, flexing his bare fingers free of the ache he had acquired from manual work. He hadn’t anticipated the regular way to be so taxing. “The process is a bit… more involved than I had originally thought.”

“Well tha’s t’be expected when you’re raisin’ things.” The undertaker smiled cheerfully, flopping over his desk. His head had lolled comically to one side. “Though I suspect tha’s a bit more’n you can manage, eh?”

“A tad, yes.” The demon had nodded. “We do have our own gardener now, though I fear that’s really only in name… he still has a lot to learn, you see.”

“Takin’ in more for charity, I see!” the other grinned, rolling back off the pedestal. Sebastian had snorted in indignation, only perpetuating the mortician’s cheer. “Come off it, guv. It’s good t’ see tha’ in a demon these days.” The butler opened his mouth with retort but was cut off prematurely. “Now, I’m figurin’ you’ll need a good fertilizer. Granted, it’s not my style – better to raise’m naturally, I say, we’ve so much time – but if it’s for little Ciel’s benefit, then I suppose it’ll be fine. I can fetch you some from our world, on the other side.”

“Mirror Side?” the demon queried.

“The same. I get the feelin’ tha’ you’re none too welcome there.”

“And I suppose that’ll cost something.” Sebastian had forcefully redirected. “If it works, it won’t be a one time job.”

“Mn, as I figured. I do ‘ave one thing I want in return – you know I’ve no interest in filthy money an’ the like.” With a nod he continued. “Jus’ tell me ‘ow Ciel is doing, alright? Tha’s all I ask.”

“Ciel…?”

“I used t’ see ‘im regularly, you know.” The undertaker quieted, smile waning. “I suppose it’s silly o’ me, but I do miss ‘im.”

Sebastian shook off the memory and began restocking the tea tray before him, lining up the scones and shortcakes in precise spiraling patterns. Otherworldly aides or no, there was only so much that he could manage. Soon winter’s frost would set in and claim the supple stems, freeze the leaves until they curled and withered. There was something sobering in the fact, but something beautiful as well.

“That’s a really impressive garden you’ve planted!” Soma spoke up, following his friend’s gaze. He gave a wistful sigh and set aside his blankets. “Agni usually plants winter roses this time of year, but I really like the change! The purple colours are really very nice. Though…” With a jingle of bracelets, he rose from his seat and padded over the sheered lawn to the garden, squatting down beside a low growing plant with spindly branches. Finger-like purple blossoms hung from them like colourful moss, making it look not unlike a stunted tree. “This seems oddly out of place. Does it have a name?”

“Amethyst witch hazel,” Sebastian answered, turning to the prince with feigned humility. Just because he cheated by human standards didn’t mean he couldn’t feel pride in his accomplishments. “The unique light purple colour is achieved through a cross of two other strains of the plant. It blooms well in colder weather such as this and produces a unique spiced aroma.”

“That, at least, will survive the climate.” He smiled to himself, glancing quickly to his mate. Ciel ignored them both and continued sipping his tea. “Yes, it’s sturdy enough to endure.”

Soma nodded interestedly, nudging the base of the plant with a finger. There, clusters of lilacs blossoms with upturned petals grew skirted by thick patterned leaves. “And these two?” he asked, gesturing to the two main groups of flowering perennials. Sebastian smiled, noting the teen’s genuine interest. He would have to bring that curiosity up to Agni… a small smirk curved onto his lips.

“A Mediterranean breed of cyclamen,” he answered. “The deep pink offsets the witch hazel well, don’t you think?”

“Uhn.” The prince agreed, pointing excitedly between the cyclamen. Silvery stalks peered above the light petals, bells of periwinkle blossoms puffing out about them like fluffed cats tails. “But what about these?” he asked.

“Ah. So you’ve noticed them?” the demon smiled warmly, feline pride mingling with affection as he turned his gaze to his master. Ciel stared up at him inquisitively, arching an eyebrow in silent curiosity. “It’s just for you, you know.” He told him wordlessly.

“Those would be wild lupine,” he answered aloud. “Indigenous to the east coast of North America; a difficult flower to breed here, considering it usually flourishes in warm, humid weather.”

“Wuaah!” the teen gasped, peering closely at the healthy rows of blossoms. “And they grow so well in this soil, too! Isn’t that difficult? How did you do that?”

“What would I be if I could not perform such a simple task?” the demon replied elusively, smirking at his trademark response. The evasion went completely unnoticed by the Bengal prince as he crouched among the flowers, gently prodded them this way and that to examine their form. Nimbly he turned back to his tray, feigning interest in arranging the bottom level of pastries while slipping a single tart into the center of his palm.

“That’s so amazing, what do they usually –.” The prince broke off, blinking down at the small confection that had collided with the back of his head. It sat innocently in the soil under his gaze. Slowly Soma looked up, beginning to grin. He scooped the tart up and shook it at Ciel playfully, acting like an older family member. “Very cheeky, Mr. Earl.” He laughed chidingly. “And here I thought you were going to listen to your butler. Oh well!” He leapt up from his position in the shrubbery and dusted off his pants. Ciel watched, perplexed, as the teen approached. “I know when to take a hint!” the prince called smugly, quickly ducking back indoors. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone!”

“Lovebirds –!” the earl echoed indignantly to the slamming back door. Sebastian watched in wry amusement as his mate waited on a reply that never came, settling in his seat with an embarrassed huff. Suddenly the wheels began to turn and his brow knitted into a furrow. Sebastian suppressed a laugh and bent down to refill his master’s cup, avoiding the scowl aimed in his direction.

“And here you were accusing me of being childish?”

The demon sent him a poorly veiled smirk, settling the kettle back on the table and arranging its cosy. “It’s only natural to defend my master.” He explained. “I was merely countering Soma’s attack. Surely you’d understand that?”

The earl scoffed, throwing up his hands in exasperation in a manner Sebastian had come to identify was a trademark of the younger’s Russian heritage. Amused, he watched his lover bundle his meritage blanket about his shoulders and stride towards the garden, not bothering to lift its plush edges from the lawn. The wicker chair rocked in his absence, steadily beckoning the demon to turn. He watched as Ciel paused in the place his friend had recently vacated, fingering a twisted branch of witch hazel.

“My lord?” he called to the November air. No response, only the slackening set of the shoulders bared to him.

“Oh? Something bothers you, my darling?”

“Ciel?” he asked softly, enveloping the defeated shoulders with his hands, pressing the small back to the warmth of his chest. The earl started, quickly melting against the embrace. With a whispering sigh, a gentle hand reached back and brushed the demon’s cheek, the cold band of his ring stroking the equally frigid skin. Sebastian sighed in contentment, nuzzling the open palm gently as the blanket fell free of his mate’s shoulders, gathering at their feet. He leant forward, encircling his arms about the younger, caressing over his chest and abdomen. Everything about Ciel was so beautiful and fragile, delicate scent made sweeter by the aroma of the garden. He pressed a kiss to the curve of the earl’s neck, nuzzling gently.

Ciel made a soft sound and stroked his butler’s cheek appreciatively, small smile fading as he stared at the sea of purple blossoms. “I just can’t help but notice that the lupine will die soon.” He whispered.

“Master?” Sebastian plied, gently inclining his lips to the other’s ear. They stood in silence, the teen gazing introspectively at the flowers before he released the branch of witch hazel with a sorrowful sigh. The smile tweaked back on his lips, but it was forced, and Ciel sought shelter in his butler’s hand, pressed their twined fingers over his heart.

“Despite the fact you’ve managed to have it bloom in these conditions, even you can’t keep it alive forever.” He expressed softly, voice straining. There was the threat of salt – the promise of tears – but the earl swallowed resolutely, choking down the emotion. “When it snows, it will die.”

“So you know it too, darling?”

The demon felt his heartbeat quicken in the stretching silence. His fear was nowhere near as immediate, and yet it was the same. He would decimate any threat, mercilessly, if that was what was called for. It didn’t matter so long as it was to protect his mate or their kit. It didn’t matter so long as his master willed it. He had sworn this to himself over the many sleepless nights, had vowed it between gasps and against heated flesh. He would sacrifice all of his being without complaint if it meant their security.

Yet – and the thought paralyzed him – the snows would come. He couldn’t hold back all of the sand as it trickled down on their heads, ran out before his eyes. The kit, these feelings, it was all more than enough, more than he had ever hoped for himself. But it didn’t negate the one horrid truth that he would suffer in silence, watching his beloved grow old at his side, be claimed by his mortality and interned in the solid ground. He couldn’t save him alone from that fate: should he pray for it – and often he found himself tempted to try when the thoughts robbed him of his peace – then perhaps Ciel should desire to mate him in turn, to take in the blood of the caulist, to alter his own body and therefore perpetuate his own youth. Perhaps even the mixing of their blood in the form of their kit would be enough, flowing between mother and child and gifting the earl with supernatural ability. It was a pipe dream, he feared. He could not ask for any more sacrifice on Ciel’s part, he had suffered more than enough.

Still, icy fear crept behind every hope. There was so much opportunity for things to go wrong, for their unusual bond to utterly destroy them. What place was there for them in the world? In the human one? In the demon one? He didn’t know, pushed it from his mind when the anxiety took him, the hard cold reality that he decided would be bridged together when there was no other alternative than to analyze it. The snowy winter nights and hunger-pained memories reappeared, reminding him how far he had come.

“Please.” He begged silently. “I don’t want to be alone again.”

Subconsciously feeling the demon’s sorrow, Ciel bore his neck to him, sighing as soft lips brushed his pulse and ghosted over their mate mark.

“It’s a sad truth.” The demon replied softly, as much to himself as to his mate. He stared at the iridescent bells and settled his chin against the other’s shoulder, fingers gently stroking over his abdomen. “And the flowers will have an even smaller chance of reproducing properly in the spring without the presence of the karner blue.”

“Karner blue?”

“A butterfly.” Sebastian returned. “It depends on wild lupine as its food and home; and in return, the lupine it feeds upon is known to produce stronger plants in the next strain.”

“I see.” Ciel whispered, half-heartedly smiling. “I wouldn’t suppose you’d have any American butterflies fluttering about here in the middle of November, would you?”

The butler smiled genuinely then, eyes already trained upon the multitude of closed winged creatures bracing themselves against the cold, nestled as petals amongst the array of purple and blue flowers. The earl cocked his head at the other’s continued silence, craning his neck up to meet the contented feline smile. Wordlessly, Sebastian raised his chin and gestured lightly back towards the garden, delighting when his mate caught sight of the dozing creatures, breath catching in his throat with a soft, “Oh…”

A single karner blue wove up in sleepy patterns to nestle within the lupine, velveteen lapis wings draping back over its back as it hid among the blossoms. Ciel watched, wide eyed, as it settled down, distinguishable only by the snowy white exterior rim of its wings. The demon laughed pleasantly, feeling the racing heart beneath his fingers. He curled them about Ciel’s and pressed them gently against his chest.

“I’d ask how you managed this…” the younger marveled. “But I suppose I already know the answer.”

“And what would that be, hmm?” the caulist gently prompted, trailing a hand up over the flat planes of the earl’s stomach to cup his cheek, turning him in to a shallow kiss. Ciel returned the affections with earnest, nuzzling noses with his butler as he pulled away, a smile gathering on his lips.

“That you’re one hell of a butler?”

Sebastian smirked and nuzzled in return, pressing down for another kiss. “You know me all too well.”

“I should hope.” The younger murmured, reaching up to meet his lips. But a flurry of sound and the bold scent of mango lassi whirled him away from his mate, calmly resuming his fiddling with the teapot.

“CIEL!” Soma exclaimed, rushing into the gardens, chest barred with a common broom. Ciel blinked in confusion, quickly locating his butler with a grieved pout. The demon allowed a small smile and bent over the fine china, listening to the ensuing conversation as his senses roamed the estate. Two weeks – he hadn’t forgotten. Surely it was the date the succubae had given them oh so generously. Yet nothing sinister lurked about the manor, no fresh scents of perfumed rose or orange blossom, no stench of decaying meat. For now, at least, they were safe. A foreign scent reached him, coupled with the musk of a horse. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, too strong for his feline palate.

“So they’ve sent a messenger.” He determined.

“What is it, Soma?” the earl demanded exasperatedly, folding the discarded blanket over his arm and beating the soil from it. The prince quailed slightly, still pacing from foot to foot as he nervously surveyed the garden.

“There’s a suspicious looking man here!” he barked in anxious earnest. Sebastian nodded to himself, striking a match beneath the kettle. He could hear the frown in the Indian’s tone, confirming his suspicions. “He says he has a message for you, Ciel.”

“Oh?” the earl ground dangerously. The butler glanced over to him, just long enough to meet with enraged cobalt blue before deferring to his task of preparing the tea. Feigned disinterest. The earl seemed to understand the silent exchange: This is not a threat.

“ –such a grubby man, too! Nothing but a cabby attempting to weasel his way onto the Phantomhive London estate – hah!” the prince boasted loudly. “Not while the great Soma Asman Kadar is around to protect his best friend’s –.”

“Cabby?” the earl interjected with sudden intensity. Sebastian grumbled to himself, recalling the bloke. He had appeared before with the overly friendly brunette – Cosette, he supplied. He was indeed shabby and undoubtedly coarse in demeanor as well. It was a peculiar match for a succubus: a disheveled human with an average quality cab.

“He must be a drunkard, else he would wise up about his situation.” He determined as he measured out the tea leaves. “I swear I’ll have to watch everything he comes in to contact with at least twice.”

“ –if he’s one of the villains attempting to take the life of my best friend and his unborn baby, I’ll show him the spirit of a true friend!”

“Didn’t you realize he was with Mademoiselle Brun?” the earl snapped coldly. The prince froze, eyes widening comically. “The woman you so adored not two weeks ago?”

“No.” Soma gaped, letting his poor choice of a weapon clatter to the ground. “You can’t be serious, can you Ciel? I mean, I thought Mademoiselle was –.”

“You thought incorrectly.” The earl shook his head tersely. The demon paused, awaiting his orders. The silver in his hand bent with a tremor of strength, contorting the spoon in half. It was tempting, oh so tempting, not to make an example of the disgusting man lounging at their door step.

“Pathetic.” He spat. “I could twist your limbs; bend them in all the wrong directions, splinter every last bone in your body. It would be so simple so satisfying. I wonder what your mistresses would say to that?”

“Do not show him in.” Ciel ordered, hands balled into fists at his sides as he strode past his animated friend. “We’ll meet him in the front.”

“Understood.” The demon replied, slightly relieved that their state would remain spotless of contamination. “Master Soma, if you would please?” he indicated to the manor politely, gesturing for him to return inside. The prince nodded distractedly and followed the butler’s instruction, closing the door behind him.

At the click of the door, the earl hissed in frustration, turning fitfully.

“My lord?”

“I am a fool.” He spat, tangling fistfuls of hair. “I’ve been so –.” He shot the demon a dark look, quickly glancing away in distress and shame. Sebastian watched silently, knowing any consolation he offered would be momentarily rejected. A flicker of guilt arose in his chest: he should have at least mentioned his intentions to his mate, to let him know that he would fight on his behalf. “I have done nothing to prepare for this and I was well aware of what was –.”

“At stake, yes.” The demon finished, cutting off the stream of words with a firm kiss, fingers brushing reassuringly against the earl’s back and cheek. “Do not worry, darling.” He breathed aloud, pressing kiss after kiss to his lover’s lips, filling him with little reassurances. “What kind of butler would I be if I could not protect my lord?” Gently he scooped up the earl’s fingers and pressed the tips to his lips. “The messenger is none of your concern, my lord. If I may accompany you to the front gardens?”

Ciel nodded stiffly and followed the butler back through the manor. They traveled in relative silence, peppered with Soma’s occasional offerings of moral support or proclamations of loyalty, not unlike an anxious dog trailing its master’s heels. The outbursts went unheeded and before long they were at the front door. Agni stood before them patiently, bandaged hand pressed against the frame, easily towering over the squat cabby standing just outside. The acrid scent of tobacco swept into the manor with the winter winds and Sebastian scowled, wrinkling his nose against the pervasive scent. The man tapped his foot impatiently, looking around the Indian butler to peep inside the house, eyeing the finery that the demon doubted he had ever had privilege to see before.

Agni stepped back and turned to the Phantomhive with narrowed eyes, not bothering to force pleasantries with the unwanted guest. “Mister McKinstry has a message he would like to relay to you, Ciel.” He said curtly, clearly torn between storming away from the cabby and pummeling him until he was black and blue. Sebastian shot him a sympathetic look, quickly distracted as the McKinstry fellow guffawed and tossed the butt of his cigar, grinding it upon the marble tile with his heel.

“Oh you fucker.” He growled, bristling at the display of uncleanly impropriety. “Well scratch out my relief about not having to clean up after the pig.”

“Quit wif the formalities, you King Lear.” The man snorted, burrowing a sausage-like hand into the lapels of his coat. With a surprising amount of care he extracted a snowy white envelope stamped with a crest of cobalt wax. With much less care – Sebastian suspected the parcel was to remain pristine under pain of death – he shoved the letter towards the earl, aiming him a wide grin of gnarled teeth. “This is fer the li’le guv.” He leered.

Sebastian watched as his master carefully accepted the envelope, certain not to touch the cabby’s grimy hand. He flipped it over in his hands, Earl Phantomhive scrawled on the cover in thin blue ink written in the same hand as the previous correspondences. The butler pressed slightly closer, eager to unveil the identity of the second succubus. When the teen flipped to the envelopes reverse, the demon could make out the characters on the shield: a Saint Andrew’s cross topped with three small fleur de lis.

“So she’s Irish, hmn?” he analyzed, turning coldly to the cabby. “Will that be all, Mister McKinstry?” he asked with forced politeness, placing a hand over his master’s shoulder. The stout man watched the action with crude interest, saying nothing. “Unless,” the demon continued forcefully, smiling with disturbing benevolence. “You’ve chosen to further taint my master’s home?”

The man snorted at the front, turning on heel with a wave of his hand as he shuffled away from the threshold. Without parting salutations, Agni slammed the door resolutely behind him, beckoning for his own master to come out of hiding from behind the banister. The prince squeaked as the force rattled the paintings hanging along the walls, sneaking forward and peering over the edge of his broom at the conspicuous letter.

“What did he want?” Soma asked, voice dimming to the demon’s ears as he sped through the manor, absence unnoticed by its human occupants. He pushed open the bedroom door, scanning the chamber for a familiar object. His eyes locked on the bureau, smirking when he noticed that it had begun to list to the side from undue amounts of stress. At the base of one wobbly leg was an upended parcel.

“There.” Deftly he collected the letter opener, unsheathing it and returning to his master’s side, moving only a fraction from his prior location. The knife fell casually into the earl’s expectant hand and he did not miss the wry smile that crossed the teen’s face as his silent order was fulfilled. The blade slid seamlessly beneath the wax seal, an unsettling reminder of how lethal the unorthodox present truly was.

Sebastian watched intently as his mate extracted the letter, disgusting amounts of perfume wafting from the elegant stationary. “Lilies.” He identified with a wry sniff. “The classical symbol of eroticism. How fitting.” The earl flattened the pages in his hands and he and his butler inclined to read the sloping hand:

Dearest Earl Phantomhive,

Seeing as you have only met in person with my colleague Cosette, I feel that now would be an appropriate time as any to introduce myself. My name is Leona Fitzpatrick, and I was quite fortunate to see you and your handsome butler strolling about London’s shopping district on Sunday, October 8. However, I was upset to discover – through my keen sense of smell – that you were harboring the offspring of said butler. In the community of our kind, it is considered a rarity that a demon (or incubi, aisling, & etc.) would allow his human mate to carry its halfling child without killing one or both, let alone stay by the human’s side! While you are very blessed to have such a kind butler by your side, I regret to inform you that while you may look upon this practice as natural and endearing, it is a great threat to both yourself as well as the community of our kind.

This being said, my colleague and I have taken it upon ourselves to relieve you of the child as early as possible. I assure you that most of our kind would not have such mercy upon you – if any others were to discover your situation, both you and the child would have been killed immediately upon the London street. Keeping this in mind, both Cosette and I are terribly upset that our earlier attempts to intervene were unsuccessful. As my colleague stated upon her earlier visit, you were to be given two weeks to come upon a decision. Regretfully, we have not heard from you since then and must assume that you are still with child. Though the agreement comes to an end tomorrow, we are extending another hand to you today. At three post meridiem, Cosette and I will be awaiting you and your butler’s presence at the Kensal Green Cemetery at the Anglican chapel. Perhaps here we will be able to settle upon a compromise?

Regards,

Leona N. Fitzpatrick

Sebastian suppressed a growl in the base of his throat as the letter was quickly crumpled into his offered hand. Ciel strode forward irately, lips trembling in anger as the butler folded the note into the folds of his coat.

“Well?” Soma prompted, looking between the two anxiously. Agni stood close behind him, a hand placed on his master’s shoulder to keep him from incessant pacing.

“As Miss Fitzpatrick so charmingly put,” Ciel explained thinly. “She has requested my presence at Kensal Green Cemetery at three in the afternoon, where she and her ‘colleague’ plan to murder me.”

“WHAT?!” the prince spluttered, speaking on behalf of both he and his butler. “Ciel! You can’t just let her do that! You’re staying here, with Agni and me!”

“And ‘I’.” Sebastian sighed, watched the impassioned prince embrace his mate, for once not jealous at the proximity.

“Sebastian can go to Kensal Green and take care of those awful Rakshasa and you won’t ever have to set a foot into such a dange –.”

“I wish it were that simple.”

“Out of the question.” The demon countered decisively. He felt Agni tense as he looked between his friend and their masters, silently questioning his logic.

“But Sebastian, my friend, it would be foolish to –.” He plied worriedly, trailing off as the demon held up a patient hand with a shake of his hand.

“I’m afraid that this is not a situation in which I can be separated from my lord.” He explained heavily. “While I far from doubt your abilities, I fear that the aggressors may be expecting such a turn of events. If I arrive at the cemetery by myself, it’s possible that they may have…” His mind flashed back to his chance encounter with a particular redheaded reaper, silently wondering if such a scenario had already been in place. “Reinforcements from others within their ‘community’ waiting to attack the manor.”

“But those are all just possibilities!” Soma protested, still smothering the earl to his chest. Disgruntled, Ciel pushed away and retreated to the demon’s side, determined to argue his case. The butler smiled at the small display, quickly intervening.

“Sebastian kn –.”

“Forgive me for sounding straightforward or arrogant, but I am the only one who can properly protect Master Ciel.” He arranged simply with a smirk. Said earl flushed with a contented smile as his foreign friends gasped in surprise. The demon hummed with amusement, placing a hand on his mate’s shoulder and seeking his acceptance.

“I hadn’t meant to voice your name aloud. Have I truly grown that used to using it? Your name feels so good on my lips; I can’t help but enjoy how it feels to say before others. Such a change that is.”

“I apologize for interrupting, my lord.” He said lowly. “Or if I am outside of my boundaries by using –.”

“No matter.” The teen waved off, turning to his butler with an unusually soft look. “I agree with you.” Warmth blossomed in the demon’s chest at the public display of affection and he fought the very catlike urge to nuzzle his mate’s neck profusely with gratitude. He realized that the shock must have registered in his expression, for Ciel gave a gentle laugh, small smile never wavering. He realized how scandalous their behavior would seem to most company but disregarded the notion on account of his insight. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Agni shaking his head good naturedly, delighting in his friend’s happiness.

Soma piped up, rubbing his hands together with an intent set. “Even so! If we’re dealing with something stronger than both Agni and Sebastian, then there’s no way we’re letting you go alone.” The others looked at him uncertainly and he faltered, letting his hands drop back to his sides. “No way…”

“I suppose the extra protection would not go un-useful.” Ciel consented, sending his butler a deliberate glance.

“We have to remove them from the property immediately.”

“What do you think, Sebastian?”

The demon nodded instinctually, knowing it was the answer his master sought. A small burst of pride filled him and being blatantly asked for his input all the same, and he knew that Ciel was right. Memories of petty threats still danced around his head. That was one scene they didn’t need to return home to – the psychological side effects on his mate were bound to be deep given his already dark past.

“Whatever my lord feels would be best – I do think, however, that it would be unwise of us to leave anyone here unguarded due to the threat of a third party.”

“Then the four of us shall travel to Kensal Green together?” Agni rejoined, looking about the assembled for confirmation. Soma nodded enthusiastically, turning to his companions for direction.

“So what’s our course of action?!” he asked, holding up his fists playfully, happy to be included in something for a change.

Sebastian gave him a piteous look. “Don’t get too excited, pup. I’ll be damned if I let you see some action – you’d be dead in mere seconds. Your loyalty is admirable… I can tell that you’re truly afraid. Please just listen close.”

“We depart for Kensal Green in one hour and attempt peaceful negotiations.” Ciel declared. “If things do not smooth over following those events… then we shall have to see.” He said with unnerving ambiguity. “Sebastian?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Prepare a carriage.”
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Together Again