The Queen's Watchdog

When finally she turned back to face Ciel, Lizzie was elated to see that he’d still hold her hand. Reaching out to slide her fingers between the gaps of his own, she then squeezed his hand lovingly. The excitement had returned to the young lady, and nothing was going to stop her from enjoying her time with Ciel. After all, she would finally get to show her guests how much she and Ciel had grown. How their love was blossoming from the seeds of a frail flower into that of a brilliant garden.

With each day that passed, the garden of their love gave birth to yet another flower. Soon it would rival even the Phantomhive garden, of that she was certain.

Just as she’d anticipated, the carriage of Sebastian’s choice was beautiful. But then, Elizabeth had always loved carriages. They were so elegant and pretty, and they would shield them from rain. They really were perfect. Climbing into the carriage of her own accord, she chose to sit as close to Ciel as was humanely possible, pressing her side directly against his own. While normally she’d avoid doing so, not wishing to push him further, Elizabeth was on an emotional high.

"During my ride here, I noticed the boats were out on the lake, Lizzie’s gaze was trained on the window, her eyes wide with delight, "I so wished we could ride a boat together, it’s rare for the sun to be out for so long. We never get to visit the lake because of the constant rain."

"Didn't your brother want to take you out on a boat for your birthday last year?"

Sebastian immediately cocked an eyebrow. "Four hellhounds? They’re not pack animals. There have only been a handful of occasions I’ve heard of two or three being seen together, and you mean to tell me that there are four? You truly are mad."

"I wish that were the case," Undertaker said, "But there’s more to it than meets the eye. Something you two have no business being privy to. No business at all. However…I understand the benefits of leaking this sort of information to your lot, unlike the stiffs at Dispatch."

"Dispatch? The Grim Reaper Dispatch Society, you mean?" It was rare for Sebastian to allow himself to be caught off guard, but he hadn’t expected the Reapers to be involved in any capacity.

"Rogue reapers, huh..." That would prove to be troublesome. One was enough to prove a challenge to Sebastian, and two was pushing at even a demon's limits. But to think there was a group who was now responsible for this...

Well, it wouldn't be impossible. It'd be difficult, that was certain, but nothing was impossible. Not with the price paid with his soul. Even a disadvantage could be used to an advantage if one knew how to play their cards right--and of all people, Ciel Phantomhive knew how.

Perhaps they could use the other reapers to their advantage. They were hunting down the traitors, weren't they? Ciel wouldn't go as far as to call them allies, but rather, two competitors seeking a common goal. Who wouldn't put the other side to use?

When we get married, we can do whatever you want.

Elizabeth realised he was right. When they finally wed, everything would change. She’d no longer have to race over here at the first sign of trouble. She’d sit by his side, like a Queen. These thoughts spurred warmth back into her eyes, they brightened until finally a smile summoned dimples in her cheeks.

“Mother says I’m in too big a hurry to grow up, but that’s fine. If it means we can be married sooner, I’d happily grow up tomorrow,” tilting her head back, her gaze shifted along the garden, absorbing its peaceful aesthetics. The Phantomhive Manor held many secrets, but the beauty surrounding such a frightening place led her to believe Ciel’s home was filled with warmth. He was loved by his servants; it was like one big family. She desperately wanted to be a part of it.

“Even so, my fondest memories are from when we were children. This house was always filled with laughter, one day; I want that memory to become a reality. Let’s fill this place with laughter again.”

Embarrassed by her bold statement, Elizabeth pulled her hand free of his, waving both arms around frantically. Her entire face was scorched by glowing crimson, blonde curls flying around her face.

Oh. Children. She wanted--well. Logically speaking, it made sense. Of course they were to have children, ones who would carry on both the Midford and Phantomhive family lines. The ring that remained securely on his thumb would need a new master after his passing, and the one deemed most worthy would become the Queen's Watchdog--just as he was, and his father before him.

But still, it wasn't something that Ciel had thought about often--or at all. Marrying Elizabeth? Certainly. But children...

It brought color to his cheeks, and out of sheer embarrassment, he had to turn his face away, if only slightly.

"Th-that's...!"

Damn Sebastian, where was he?!

Almost as if on cue--and Ciel was rather surprised; a part of him almost expected his butler to delay his announcement on purpose, if only to watch Ciel squirm--Sebastian approached them with his usual smile, sweet and yet utterly unreadable. "The carriage has been prepared for you and Lady Elizabeth, young master. However, as I was unable to find a driver, I will be taking up the position to escort you to the ball."

Finally.

Clearing his throat, Ciel stood, and this time, he was the one to hold out his hand to Elizabeth.

It was the mention of the Barghest Murders that caused the grin on his lips to fade. "It’s as I thought then. Perhaps it’d be best if you took the little Earl home, butler." The entire tone of Undertaker’s voice had shifted. He was deathly serious. "I’ve nothing to say on the matter. There’s work to be done and I can’t stand about entertaining noble Lords and their curiosities."

There was something off, that much was certain. To go from being welcomed in to kicked out into the bitter winter air so quickly, there was much more at work than would meet the eye. Sebastian stepped forward as Undertaker turned to walk towards the back of the funeral parlor and spun him about, pushing him into a table while gripping his shoulder. There was a swift way to deal with Undertaker and this front he was putting up, the same way they’d always managed to get information out of him in the past.

"It’s rude to invite someone in from the cold and send them back out so soon, Undertaker. You haven’t even heard my newest riddle…"

Sebastian’s eyes glared under the brim of Undertaker’s hat as he shifted his gloved hand to the Reaper’s jaw and tilted his head back slightly. In this interrogation, it was obvious that Sebastian was eager to fill the role of ‘Bad Cop’.

"A riddle?" The Undertaker mumbled, incapable of resisting a riddle offered up by the demon, "Very well. If you can make me lau-"

Sebastian pressed a finger to Undertaker’s lips, his posture was that of a panther with its prey within their grasp. The butler’s voice was quick, sharp, and didn’t sound at all like one who was posing a riddle, but rather, a threat. "I am short, but cast a vast shadow. I am swift, but you’ll catch me at just the right time. I am dangerous, but few tell tales of my wrath. Who am I?"

Sebastian removed his index finger from Undertaker’s lips so that the Reaper could speak, "…your little lord, Ciel Phantomhive!"

The guess drew an audible scoff from Sebastian, who merely shook his head and leaned towards Undertaker’s ear, his eyes flashing as a reminder of the demon lurking within. Quietly, Sebastian whispered the answer to his riddle.

“My temper.”

There were a few tense moments that followed as Undertaker remained silent and Sebastian remained in such a close proximity to him, and then in one sudden burst, the Reaper howled in a fit of laughter. Smirking, Sebastian returned to Ciel’s side while Undertaker laughed himself to tears as the very foundation of the funeral parlor shook.

Clutching his sides, the Undertaker shook his head and heaved a few deep breaths. “Fine…fine…but you better pull up a seat, milord, this story is more troublesome than meets the eye. How much do you know?”

It was truly in these moments that Ciel was, once again, reminded of the reality of his butler's true nature. Under the guise of a mere servant was a demon--a creature without feeling, without attachment, and without any sort of human compassion. There would be no pity or mercy when his temper was aroused; there would only be fear, acrid and sharp, for was it not a natural reaction of any being to fear that which was its predator?

...Still, it was not a reminder that Ciel needed, because there never passed a single day nor even a single moment that he allowed himself to forget. Sebastian was merely a ruse; even his name was something given to him, a mere human effort to give title to something that not even mankind's worst nightmares could rival. And every time his order was obeyed--every time Sebastian came to wake him, prepared him food, killed his enemies, and protected him from harm, Ciel reminded himself that he was not being served by a man who was bound to him by any sense of loyalty.

He was merely being entertained by a demon who sought to devour him whole.

(But of course, Ciel Phantomhive was not a mere puppet; he was not one to be controlled, to be toyed with, and to be mocked, no matter who he faced. If Sebastian desired to play the role of his servant, then Ciel would see to it that he became a proper servant--a dog resting by his heel, to bark and bite at every command he would make.)

"I-in the…" she took a moment to choke back her sobs, clearing her throat before continuing on with her words, "Okay. Let’s sit in the garden."

She barely noticed Sebastian come and go, she’d been so consumed by guilt. When Ciel pulled at her hand the memories came flowing back. The way they’d play in the house, chasing after one and other. The game was pointless, after all, he’d never once release her hand.

"You’ve been working a lot lately, Ciel. Have you been taking care of your health? I was so worried when I heard your asthma had returned," Lizzie’s gaze lifted towards the sky, her expression thoughtful, "I can’t help but worry, even though you’re alright. You’re always alright. I think you have a Guardian Angel. I’m sure He watches over you wherever you go. That’s how you always manage to return to me, isn’t it?"

Elizabeth’s thoughts were truly naive. No Angel would come to Ciel’s aid, after all, his companion was a Demon. But Lizzie’s innocence was part of her charm, at least, that’s what those closest to her said.

"You shouldn't be worrying about things like that; I can take care of myself. The asthma's hardly a problem anymore." And although he spoke of it with an air of nonchalance, he had to admit, at least to himself--having someone genuinely care and worry about him felt... nice.

But at the same time, he didn't want it. No matter how much pitiful self-satisfaction it brought him, it wasn't worth seeing such a look on Elizabeth's face. No matter what, he always wanted to see her smile--to see her eyes light up with mirth, and to see her face glow with joy.

That was why he couldn't tell her. No angel would dare even want to watch over Ciel Phantomhive; not when he willingly placed himself under the shadow of a demon, and not when his soul--twisted and ugly, surely far too wretched for even the most merciful of angels to desire--was bound to be lost. (Ah, but it was better this way; Ciel didn't want to be saved. Even if he were to be sent back in time and had another chance to choose differently, he wouldn't. Just as he was Sebastian's--to serve, to follow, to devour--Sebastian was his as well--his to use and sacrifice, all to build a bloody throne.)

"But..."

"When we get married, we can do whatever you want. So stop making that face; a garden is no place to look so upset."

"Ciel… just being by your side makes me happy. You’ll be a great husband because of that. Now let’s go!"

She dragged him down the stairs like a woman possessed, determined to get as much time with him as was humanely possible this evening. Her free hand pulled at the material of her dress, hoisting it off the ground as to avoid tripping. She wouldn’t dare embarrass herself in front of Ciel. She wanted to be cute in his eyes, to hide behind the smoke and mirrors. That was her wish, because he wanted to protect her. Because she wanted to be protected, in order to protect his happiness.

The excitable blonde came to a stop when they exited the Manor, a look of alarm crossing her features.

"That’s strange. The carriage is gone."

Her fingers tightened around Ciel’s, a sense of panic filling her stomach with an unsettling sensation. She just wanted to please her most precious person, so why did things have to go wrong. Her gaze shifted to Ciel’s, a frown altering her once jovial countenance. Tears were summoned to the corners of her eyes, the distress written into her narrowed gaze. She desperately wanted to cry.

...No, what was he thinking? Of course he would. He was Ciel Phantomhive; if he didn't have what he desired, he'd work towards it until it was in his hands. And if he wanted Elizabeth to be happy, to be safe and protected and given all the cute things she wanted, then he'd definitely make it happen--not only in the future, but now, too.

He had no idea what had happened to the carriage she'd ordered, or if she'd somehow forgotten to do so at all in her excitement, but that could be investigated later, if it was really worth looking into.

"What are you apologizing for? You didn't mess up anything." Quick, what could he--oh! "It's a good thing it's not here; I wanted to relax in the garden a bit before leaving, anyway. Sebastian will ready another carriage in the meanwhile."

The young earl glanced at his butler, who only responded with a knowing smile and a slight bow.

"It will only take a few minutes, young master," Sebastian added. "I will make preparations immediately."

This is my chance!

Elizabeth’s footsteps had clearly alerted the young woman to her presence. She turned, clearly alarmed, before stepping back and away from the railing.

"M-miss Elizabeth!"

Just like that Elizabeth was flying down the stairs, racing for the almost cute Phantomhive Maid.

"Come back! I just want to make you cute! I promise you’ll be the absolute cutest!"

The chase went on until Elizabeth couldn’t follow poor Mey-Rin anymore. They traveled in and out of rooms until finally Elizabeth lost her target. Coming to a steady halt at the foot of the stairs she dropped to sit on the bottom one before exhaling a deep, ragged breath.

I lost her. Darn, I had really hoped she’d let me take her glasses off this time. I…Ah—!!

Twisting her form she glanced up to see Ciel standing there in the attire she’d chosen just for him. Clambering to her feet she clapped both hands together with elation before climbing the stairs to greet him.

"Ciel! You look perfect! It’s been such a long time since we spent time together. I really wanted to get a boat and ride out onto the lake with you… but Mother says I mustn’t bother you while you’re busy. It’s not fair, it’s the wife’s job to make sure her husband is well and happy!"

Letting out a dejected sigh Elizabeth took a moment to adjust her dress, admiring the qualities paralleled with Ciel’s own. When she’d finished grooming herself, Elizabeth then extended one hand to her beloved, gloved fingers separating to accommodate his own.

...Ha; that was a stupid question. Of course he could, and who was to say that he wouldn't any time in the future? The sigil that had been seared into his back was more than just a scar; it was an ugly mark that always reminded him that regardless of money, pride, and name, in the end, he was still human--and that humans were very, very weak. If they did not advance, they would fall back; there was no stagnation when the world did not stay still for anyone. So, he had to continue moving forward. No matter what or who stood in his way, he had to knock them down so that he could advance and come out on top.

It was an ugly determination to win.

"We're not even married yet, Lizzy. And it's just as much a husband's job to keep his wife happy."

(Ciel didn't think about his parents often, but his memories of them before their untimely murders were sweet. They were always smiling to each other, not because they were rich and successful, but because they were happy. They were in love.

But of course, love did not save them. Love only dug their graves side-by-side.)

Though Sebastian enjoyed seeing Ciel squirm a bit around nearly every Reaper they encountered, it was a reminder that he too wasn’t particularly fond of their lot. Demons and Reapers got along like cats and dogs. Fitting, considering that cats were the cleverer of the two. However, the Undertaker commanded respect from all walks of supernatural beings for his storied tenure as a Reaper. Through the ages that Sebastian had roamed the earth in search of the most exquisite souls, or longer still to a less disciplined time in Sebastian’s existence, he heard the tales.

The young Earl and his watchful butler made their way past the carriage they had taken into the city, and with a wave, Sebastian dismissed the driver to let him know they would be traveling on foot. As the rusty eyed butler turned his sights to the path before them, he couldn’t help but pause on his young master’s form. Despite their time together up to this point, there were times where he could not help but marvel at how such a young boy could possess the air of determination that even men far greater in age, stature, and experience would emit. 

The streets of London were filled with people who didn’t seem to bat an eyelash at talk of the Barghest Murders themselves, but were more enraptured with chatter of the myth rather than the lives lost. These common folk were self absorbed, entertained by wives tales and things that would only keep a child awake at night. Pathetic. 

Sebastian never lost step at the side of his young master as they moved with purpose through city. When finally they stood at the door of the funeral parlor, Sebastian’s attention was grabbed by a freshly built coffin resting against the front-facing wall of the building. Perhaps it was to be the final bed that the most recent victim would rest in. "With all the business he’s had these past few weeks, one would assume he’s made a killing off of all of these-"

A pained squeak of rusted hinges cried out as the wooden door shifted open before them, and they were greeted by the familiar grin of the silver haired Undertaker. "Tsk, tsk, that comment wasn’t going to be nearly as funny as what I’m used to hearing out of you, butler." The Reaper stepped back and opened the door for them, motioning for them to enter. Though his eyes were veiled by his hair, it was obvious that the Undertaker had his sights set on Ciel after scolding Sebastian for his bad pun.

"Don't joke; it's just that I don't have any other choice."

It wasn't that he hated the Undertaker, not necessarily, but he did find the Reaper's experiments and morbid curiosity to be utterly foul. The dead should be allowed to remain at peace, not have their bodies used as a part of some sick attempt to play God.

...Still, the Undertaker was a resource--an incredibly valuable one. It was in Ciel's best interest to make full use of him while he was still able. (After all, why waste pawns when they still had some use? In both chess and real life, he believed that there wasn't--couldn't be--any piece that was useless. It all really came down to finding out how to best utilize his assets.)

Upon reaching the Undertaker's preferred place of work, Ciel stepped inside with only a frown and at the Reaper who had invited them inside. It was obvious that he'd been busy; there were far more items strewn about than what Ciel was used to. More jars, more pots, more coffins--all either housing or about to house the next corpse that would be targeted by those hounds before they were properly leashed and handled.