Until the Very End
A Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler Fan-Fiction
Note from the Authors:
We have put a ton of work into this fan-fiction, so thank you for taking time to read it. We love and appreciate comments and thoughts, so please, let us know your feelings.
We do not own or have the rights to Black Butler, or the characters therein. Furthermore, while we appreciate constructive criticism, this is a FAN-FICTION, and while we will be sticking to parts of the manga and anime, the story is comprised mostly of original content. Please refrain from bashing the authors with unkind comments such as "It didn't happen that way" or "You know nothing about Kuro". There ARE differences in this story. While a good bit of it will be set within Seasons 1 & 2 of the anime, we picture some things differently for our story's sake. We picture Young Master Ciel to be about fifteen, rather than 12/13. However, if it makes you feel better, picture him as young or old as you want. This Fan-Fiction, while currently rated 14+ WILL go up to a mature rating. There will be fluff. There will be sex. If that isn't your cup of tea, then I invite you to refrain from reading. Other than that, there are various plot twists from the anime and manga we will alter to our liking. Again, this is a fan-fiction. We are not the original manga author, or the anime director. We are exercising our creativity as writers, and altering as we see fit. We think you will love it. So, with open minds, and open hearts...our story begins, with a single black feather.
Chapter One: His Butler, Comforting
Act I: His Master, Dreaming
My name is Earl Ciel Phantomhive. I am the heir to the esteemed Phantomhives of London, owner of the Funtom company, and watchdog to her majesty, Queen Victoria. In my manor, I'm known as the young master...but, I never feel young. Most people say it's because I've seen too much. Perhaps they're right. In my brief existence, I've seen almost every sense of happiness fade, and elude me. I have no parents. I did once, when I was happy, naive. Such a foolish way to behave...as though maybe the world was going to play the game of life fairly. A ridiculous notion.
I'm talking to myself again, aren't I? Perhaps silence is where I'm best understood...without hollow eyes watching me. But, understood or not, I dread sleeping at night. There's seldom a night that passes that I wake refreshed. Well, that is, if I really sleep at all. This dream is going to slip soon, I can feel it, and with it, the security that I find in the brief moments of silence. I wonder which it will be this time.
Where was I? I don't remember what was...
Fire. It burns. Their faces, charred and broken. I open my mouth to scream but force it down. I'm too proud to show pain. Pain is weakness, a trait I can scarcely afford. No. Push it away, Ciel.
Then come the hands. This is the part I dread, my body bruised and naked. Humiliation stings my cheeks as they hold me down. I try to fight, but I'm so weak, a broken fragment of a boy. I can hear the metal and I know what's coming next. I grit my teeth. Searing pain, utter agony. Death is knocking, calling and beckoning for me. Again, my pride shows; but, it hurts more to struggle anyway.
I can't do it on my own. I feel my scream breaking my chest, ripping me into pieces. Help me. "Please!" I'm resorted to begging, a humiliation I can't stand...worse than their hands and branding irons.
My body goes rigid. That voice. I've heard it before. It sends my heart spiraling, my head whirling. I am dizzy. Am I ill? Everything goes dark. Is it over? Am I dying? Or, am I blacking out to be awoken in some other horrible method. It's ebony, not enough light for the slightest shadow. Still, my body shakes, quivering in pain, anguish, hurt, and anger; and, I'm searching...desperately, frantically.
Fire. I'm burning again. That voice...it belongs to..."Sebastian!" I cry out. Why won't he come? "Save me, Sebastian!"
"I'm here, my lord."
Peace. Wings. I feel warm, and soft wings envelop me...most unlike my demon butler. I feel safe. The fire's gone, the pain eliminated.
"I'm here, young master." All fades to black.
"It's over, /Ciel/."
I snap awake. I'm pouring sweat, sticking to the fine fabric of my nightshirt, my hair clinging to my face just as I'd wanted to cling so desperately to...no.
I sit up in the dismal black of my room, trying to return my heart to its normal rate, rather than the thunderous drum its become. I can scarcely breathe. Nightmares render me that way sometimes.
Yet, it isn't the nightmare that has me so perturbed. It's him. Sebastian. I pull back my covers to pace my room, and that's when I find it. A black feather. I can't help but cling to it. It's all well and fine in the solitude of my room, the dark of the night; but, in the morning, he's just my butler...and these feelings have no place anywhere but the elusive land of dreams.
Safe...warm...loved...in the arms of my demon...how ridiculous.
The feather turns beneath my fingers...soft, and gentle. How had it gotten there? My door creaks open...the drumming of my heart returns, ringing in my ears as I shove the feather in my nightstand drawer, beneath whatever else was in there. Only one person would be awake at this hour.
Act I, Part II: His Butler, Revealing
I could recognize the sound of my young master's frightened screams anywhere. Almost instantly, I rushed into his room closing the door softly behind me. He was thrashing wildly in bed, screaming, "NO! GET OFF OF ME! STOP! PLEASE!"
"Young master," I called softly, shaking his shoulder, gently, "It's just a dream. You need to wake up."
His screams are almost inhuman. In fact, I've heard inhuman things sound more human than this. A few feathers land on the bed, and I realize my true form is revealing itself on its own. Something sinister stirs inside of me at the sound of these screams. I want names for the hands that chose to violate my young lord. I want to hear bones break, feel flesh tear, see blood pool.
I set the candelabra on the nightstand, before picking up the feathers. My young master has asthma, how careless of me. I throw the feathers out the window, swept away in the night breeze. I re-latch the window, a shudder runs up my spine at the sounds of those screams again. My form remains in tact this time as I sit on the edge of the bed beside him. His hair and nightshirt are damp with sweat. I have the urge to change his clothes, dab his forehead with a damp cloth. I'm snapped out of such thoughts by a new sound on his lips. "SEBASTIAN! SAVE ME! SEBASTIAN! PLEASE! SEBASTIAN!"
Something twists inside of me that I couldn't save him, before it happened and even now from a land of nightmares I cannot reach to vanquish, but then again if somehow I had managed such a feat I wouldn't be here now. He wouldn't need his revenge. He wouldn't need me.
I hold him in my arms and he fights violently against me, as if I were just one more faceless shadow with a branding iron. Another clench in my chest.
"I'm here, my lord, I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you. Not again. I will always save you. I will be by your side, until the very end."
He relaxes in my arms for a moment, before wrapping his arms tightly around me. There are tears in his eyes and for a moment I think he has awaken from his nightmares, but his voice is still drowsy and his eyes are still shut tight as he says, " Sebastian? Stay with me. Sebastian, please, don't leave me."
A different kind of clench in my chest. How peculiar. "Yes, I'm here. I'll always be here. It's over, Ciel."
Again my blood runs cold. I pull away with haste, picking up the candelabra, and walking out into the hall. For a moment I lean against the door. Did I just address my master informally? And worse, disobey an order? No. He hadn't said, 'this is an order.' Still…what the hell is wrong with me?
I go to the kitchen and prepare a fresh pot of tea before I walk back into my master's bedroom. He's sitting up in bed and hurriedly shuts the drawer of his nightstand. "W-what are you doing here, Sebastian?"
"I knew you weren't sleeping well so I took the liberty of preparing you a cup of tea. It's chamomile and lemongrass. It will help you sleep soundly."
I hand him the cup and saucer. He takes a sip of the tea. He's staring at me for some reason, more so than usual, a different look in his eyes, almost…curious. Could he know of my informal address? Does he detest me for such lack of form?
"Well? Are you going to stand there all night or can I go back to sleep?" Ciel demanded, taking another sip of his tea, obviously to his liking.
"But of course, my lord. My apologies. I shall come back after awhile to retrieve your cup." I close the door behind me and head back to the kitchen. There is still so much to prepare for tomorrow, and I find my mind in desperate need of being occupied.