Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler OR any of the characters in this fanfic.
Pairings: Mainly Sebastian/Ciel, but there WILL be others involving these two.
General: Multi-chapter,AU: Medieval setting, unbeta'd, irregular updates. Rated M for explicit sexual content and for the triggers mentioned below!
Trigger warnings: Blood/violence, body horror, paranoia, insect and rodent mentions, explicit sexual content, underage, slight BDSM mentions, eventual suicide mention, death, torture, and non-con? (I will also put individual warnings before each chapter! I just don't want someone who is triggered by one or more of these things to get really into the story, just to be disappointed if they are unable to read on!)
Before you start reading: Please keep in mind that I am not an expert on the Dark Ages! There may be details that are historically inaccurate. If this bothers you, I apologize.
In this fanfic, Sebastian is not as old as he appears to be in the anime/manga. He is younger, but still older than Ciel.
Both characters that are unique to the manga and 'non-canon' anime characters will appear in this story!
This story is NOT set in England, but in a made-up kingdom.
And lastly ... basically just pretend they're talking like people from the Middle Ages lol.
There was once an insignificant village that lay in between two tiny, chicory-covered hills. Here the houses were built up of nothing more than mud, stones, and hay. This was, without a doubt, the poorest town in the entire kingdom. No more than one-hundred persons dwelled in the outskirt village, and even so, the houses were packed full. Like most peasants, the people that settled there were forced to work day and night and give at least one-third of their harvest to the lords and to their king. In exchanged for their sacrifice, they were offered protection if rumors of war were to arise.
Within the little village lived a happy couple named Vincent and Rachel, and their 14-year-old son, Ciel. After multiple miscarriages, Rachel and Vincent were left heartbroken, and for this reason, the two of them considered themselves blessed to have just one son. Though he was small, and weak, and poor in health, they loved him dearly—more than anything.
Despite his weakness, half of the teenager's day consisted of hard work. His one personal errand was to purchase some fodder with the very little money his family possessed, and to toss the smelly feed into the animals' outdoor pens. Along with this, he was to meet his father and the other men and work in the fields when he was finished. Like other boys his age, his wardrobe consisted of a dirty, loose-fitting linen shirt and a pair of baggy, brown shorts. Occasionally, there would be a day hot enough that he would have to wear his cotton-made shoes lest his feet be burned by the scorching ground.
The boy lived a modest life yet his father had taught him to stay proud no matter what and to keep his chin held high in the air. The husband and father was a proud man himself. Rachel on the other hand was a humble, hard-working, and quiet woman; the ideal wife of the time.
The thatch-roofed house in which the family lived was not just theirs, but it also belonged to Alexis and Francis—Vincent's brother-in-law and sister—and their children Elizabeth and Edward. It was no rare occurrence—especially in such a miniscule village like theirs—that living arrangements weren't the most comfortable.
A tidy stack of hay was placed in the livestock quarters—where the animals stayed in the wintertime, that is—on the far side of the room. Nearby, there were two beds pressed together to preserve space. These two hay beds could only hold four bodies, so the seven of them rotated each night to make things fair. Only a couple feet away was the fireplace with the hanging cauldron where the food was made, and beside that stood a petite and rickety table. And that was all that made up their house.
This was not a bad life for them, because this is the only life they'd ever known. They could not even imagine what wonders there were to behold inside of the king's castle or inside of the lords' manor houses. In their case, ignorance truly was bliss. If they learned what lay beyond those walls, their homes would seem like hell.
There was one mighty king that ruled the land, and every soul in the kingdom revered him (though no one quite knew who he was). His age as well as his physical identity was unknown to everybody in that village, and yet they loved and adored this mysterious man. Even the proud Vincent Phantomhive respected the man he'd never seen. Vincent's parents had taught him, and therefore he had taught his son that both the church officials and the king were to be regarded highly.
"Vincent, where is Ciel? Has he been with you?" Rachel asked her husband in worry, her hands clenched tightly together in front of her breast.
"He hasn't been with me all day. Let's go search for him," Vincent answered immediately, seeing his wife's distress.
And so they went to search for their son. They stopped to ask their neighbors and friends. They searched in outhouses and in the fields. They searched until the sun began to sink in the sky. Just when they were about to assume that their boy had run away from home for good, Vincent spotted a head of bluish-gray hair ducked to rest upon a pair of bruised knees. He sat there hugging his knees in front of the stream, his eyes following the constant flow of water.
"Ciel, is this where you have been all day?" his mother asked in exasperation, unsuccessfully running a hand through her tangled, blonde hair.
"Yes," he answered simply in a low voice, his small body not moving at all.
"Ciel, you had us worried sick! What have you been doing here all day?" Rachel inquired again, her hands on her hips as she spoke.
"Thinking," he said. The boy's hand fiddled with grass.
"Is something bothering you, son?" Vincent asked the young one in a patient voice, a frown etched onto his face. Ciel was never one to wander or doze, so Vincent could easily tell that something was wrong.
"I've had this feeling all day," the boy drawled. "I have the strangest feeling that something bad will happen soon." With that, the boy stood up and walked away from the stream, past his parents, and in the direction of their home. Ciel's dark cobalt eyes looked even darker in the evening when the sun was low in the sky. His face, though dirty, was free of any blemishes and was smooth to the touch. It was no wonder every mother in the village dreamt of their daughters marrying the young man.
Vincent and Rachel exchanged apprehensive glances before following their son's lead and heading back to the village for dinner.
A/N: Constructive feedback would be awesome! :D