#cielizzy week

I'm glad to you read my special fanfiction for cielizzy week 2019, enjoy reading!

Summary: Elizabeth takes a midnight trip to Phantomhive Manor - and receives the confession of her dreams. Fluff. Sugary sweet fluff. (Older Ciel and Elizabeth. Probably 17, 18 or so.)

There is a medlar-tree/ growing in front of my lover’s house,/ and there all day/ the wind makes a pleasant sound./ And when the evening comes,/ we sit there together in the evening dusk,/ and watch the stars/ appear in the quiet blue. — Sappho, One Hundred Lyrics

“What are you doing here, Lizzy?” Ciel asks.

Elizabeth looks beautiful, dressed as she is—an off the shoulder gown of periwinkle blue with a nipped in waist and skirts that flowed down to the floor in a silken waterfall. Her hair, usually so childish and familiar, has been twisted up in a complicated cascade of curls held together by a white, white rose. Truth be told, she looks like a dream—a wonderful, forgotten dream, and Ciel is almost speechless because when did his Lizzy grow up to be so elegant and beautiful?

Ethereal, perhaps, is the better word.

But his tongue is heavy and the words are stuck in his throat, forcing him to sit there, leaden, behind his great rosewood desk while the moon rises and evening stars begin to glimmer.

Her expression is soft, those doe green eyes innocent but pained, framed by long dark lashes that easily catch the dewdrop of her tears.

Her tears.

“Lizzy?” Ciel is panicked now, immediately rising from his high-backed armchair and rushing to her side. They are facing each other and he can smell her perfume—gardenias and sweet pea and the late August sun—and he feels slightly intoxicated by it all. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh it’s nothing!” She quickly exclaims, brushing away her tears and putting on the same cheery smile Ciel has grown used to seeing.

Except now, he feels the fool—how long had he been taking her smiles at face value? Never caring to look beneath the golden hair, ebullient demeanor, and elated cries of Ciel!

“Tell me.” He says this more firmly, taking Lizzy’s wrist, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse as they stand there together, the moonlight bathing them both in pearlescent silver. One hand comes to tilt her chin upward, forcing jade eyes to meet sapphire blue. A single absurd thought crosses his mind—no tears should ever fall from her eyes.

Rationally, he knows such a request is impossible but he is Ciel Phantomhive and he does not ask. He is the Queen’s Watchdog and he can bend the axioms of reality to suit his needs. She’s far too lovely to cry.

“I was just…remembering something, that’s all.” She finally sighs, a slight smile on her lips.

“What is it?”

“I—well,” the apples of her cheeks turn pink as she blushes, averting her gaze to the ground, “tonight…tonight is my debutante ball.” Lizzy manages at last, lifting her eyes to meet Ciel. 

He does not look surprised. “I know.”

“You do?” Lizzy’s brows furrow in confusion. “Then…then why didn’t you come?” She sounds hurt—hurt and worried and so full of unconditional love that Ciel wants to throw himself at her feet, tell her that she deservers better, that she’s meant for happiness and joy and sunlight. How can he bring himself to condemn her too? Shackle her to a life in the underworld—marrying the Queen’s Watchdog, a thrice damned child who sold his soul to the devil.

“Lizzy—“

“Why didn’t you come Ciel?” She whispers, jade eyes misting over with tears. “I promise you didn’t have to stay for long—only a few moments, and you didn’t have to dance with me either. You only had to be there long enough for father to announce that we were betrothed and—“

“Oh Elizabeth,” Ciel presses his hand against her cheek, bringing her closer towards him. “Elizabeth…I’m sorry.” 

He sees a strike of fear appear in her eyes and he wants to reassure her that everything will be alright, that things will be fine, that—

“You…you don’t love me, do you Ciel?” She asks quietly, not a hint of anger or resentment in her voice. Only soft resignation and gentle acceptance.

Ciel feels a part of himself break. He could lie and say that he doesn’t love her—that he doesn’t want to marry her—that their betrothal was a childhood dream meant for happier times. It would be easier this way—cleaner, simpler—but he is Ciel Phantomhive and damn it all, he is selfish. Unrelentingly selfish. Wanting the whole world and all its trophies without giving a damn to the consequences thereafter.

And Elizabeth. He leans in closer, their lips nearly touching. God—she is the purest part of him. The best part of him and he loves her with such adoration and devotion that he is terror struck when he thinks about losing her. About tainting her. About ruining the girl he has loved for so long and with such unyielding affection—would she hate him if she knew what he truly was? A feckless coward who’d made a deal with the devil for a bit of power and some revenge? 

“God, Lizzy…I adore you as I’ve adored nothing else in my life. You are my morning star and without your light, I would be lost—utterly, completely lost. I want you to be happy, I want you to remain this way,” he touches her cheek, eyes pained and words heavy, “marrying me would be a death sentence, my love. And you are far too good for a life hidden beneath the shadows.”

And, in the aftermath of his whispered confession, Ciel can’t help himself—he’s held back for so long, restrained himself at all costs, that this one moment feels as close to heaven as he could ever dream of.

He kisses her, then and there, mouth meeting mouth in the sweetest kiss. She tastes like a valentine and feels so soft in his arms that the crueler part of him—the greedier, more selfish part of him—finally wins over.

It’s true that Elizabeth deservers better than him—much, much better—but he is Ciel Phantomhive and he is only human. And this girl, this sweet, sunshine girl, holds his humanity in the palm of her lily-white hands. How can he not adore her with the whole of his being? As the moon loves the sea…as Hades loves Persephone.

Cielizzy Day 1

I know it’s late! Hopefully I can get the last two done tomorrow, or get at least one done later tonight before I go to bed and the other done tomorrow.  Hope people like this really short piece for Cielizzy Week 2017 @cielizzydefencesquad

Vincent was the first born and everyone said he looked just like his father. That same smug sort of look that showed he was up to something, those large eyes that reminded people of Rachel, and that confidence that told everyone that he was a Phantomhive. The thing was Vincent had his late great Aunt Ann’s hair. Red as a rose, but not as bright due to the blond in there from his mother. His blue eyes shown under strictly trimmed bangs.

He’s always seen walking after his father, trying to have the same air of dignity that Ciel has, but also hiding a sweeter side. Unlike his father’s shadowy nature, Vincent is a gentle soul who wants to do right by his family and prefers using a sword to a gun, as he sees them as being a vulgar weapon of choice. Crafty like his old man, he’s a slight trickster when he wants to be, but genuinely prefers to be direct about things.

Ever since he was a kid he’s walked in his father’s shadow. The servants around the manor house always took note of the fact that when he was eight Vincent would follow along after his father as Ciel read his notes for his business and mirror his father’s posture. It’s said that Ciel would purposely walk slower so his son could keep up and pretend to not notice the boy, though the whole time he keeps a hidden smile on his face under the cover of reading the papers. It’s clear that the Earl cares deeply for this boy.

Rachel Frances was the first girl and considered the jewel in the Phantomhive crown. Born with her mother’s eyes, she had a knowing look to her face as she smiled brightly at everyone in the house. Rachel, with her dark black blue hair, with curls that bounced as she ran around the halls after her brother, was one for mischief. For all her angelic looks under every one of her smiles was a trick waiting to come out. Her only care seemed to be for her family and she let that be known to everyone in ear shot.

Like part of her namesake, she was blunt with everyone regarding what they were doing and how they were doing it. Yet her giddy energy knew no bounds. As a child she would keep the staff busy, discovering new ways to bother Paula who’d been retained to stay on as the new governess. She was a wild one, rushing here and there, playing games with the shadows as she danced across the floors of the phatomhive manor.

Rachel never left her brother’s side, always trying different ways to get him to become involved in her activities. Vincent, and by extension Ciel, were constantly being dragged into playing games with her and Lizzy. Dancing and singing seemed her sport, but she was adept at chess just like her father. She always seemed to be thinking three steps ahead and always viewed the world through the eyes of “What needs to be done,” rather than simply, “what can be done.”

Yet still there was the twins, Anne and Sebastian. Two parts of a whole, as their mother Elizabeth always put it. If Vincent and Rachel were the night then these two were the day. Twin blondes with brown eyes, they puttered about the yard with abandon, chasing after one another through the gardens seeking oiut butterflies and lighting bugs in the summer days and nights.

Anne, with a pair of braided tails, would be in the lead, helping the smaller Sebastian along. Laughing and giggling the two would never be without the other, and always laughing at some sort of personal joke between them. Anne seemed to enjoy the snakes that occupied the grounds, and Sebastian preferred the pet dog that they had gotten when he was a baby named Tanaka. Anne was the louder of the two, raising her voice so that everyone could here, while Sebastian would try to keep her firery temper at bay by teasing her and making her laugh with his horrible puns and silly jokes.

For Sebastian calm was something that he liked, and cooking, always with the cooking. He would follow his mother around watching her as she worked on her swordsmanship, or entertained the ladies that came to call. Even though at times he was scared of his father, who seemed to him a distant man, he still loved him and Ciel treated Sebastian tenderly, more so then the other kids.

Both he and Anne talked of the strangers that would visit from time to time. They would make up stories about the man with the funny grass cutter that puttered along some nights, of the red haired beauty that seemed to sometimes weep for some missing person that she called out by name but they never answered, and Sebastian was never sure if she was calling to him or not. Then there was the staunch man with the book in hand. He, with the clippers, would stand outside near some of the roses and wait, as if waiting for someone to come.

Once they saw their mother and father come out to talk to the man, whom their father called William, but they never asked what the matter was about. Still they were the most curious and as neither Vincent nor Rachel could see the visitors they tried to come up with stories as to who they were and why they were here.

These children were the line that continued the succession of the Queens Watchdog until this very day.

Summary: The shipper demon gets front row seats to witness his OTP moment. Sweet, silly, and very fluffy.

“What,” Sebastian asks with thinly veiled amusement, “are you doing, young master?”

“Don’t ask asinine questions you already know the answer to.”

The demon arched a brow. “My, my…aren’t we feeling sharp this afternoon.”

“Leave me be.”

“Would you like some more tea? I hear tea is greatly conducive to artistic endeavors.” Sebastian inquires innocently, smirk in place and right hand across his chest.

Ciel glanced up from his ink and paper, expression stony and cheeks flushed a pale pink. “Get out of here, demon.”

“Are you trying to cast me out? Shall I bring some salt for your ritual? Four waxed candles in a darkened room—“

“Why you insolent fiend!” Ciel slammed down his fountain pen with a loud clack that, no doubt, left indents in the fine cherrywood material.

Sebastian winced at the thought.

“I order you as both lord and master to leave this room and not return until I so command it—is that clear?” Ciel demanded, cold and calm and desperately wishing that the demon might drop dead already.

“As you wish, young master.” The butler bowed but not before glancing up, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “But I feel compelled to inform you that in another life, I was once the finest poet serving under the Sun King of France and that it was I who composed most of his lover’s ballads.”

Ciel’s eyes narrowed but he refused to give in. “So what.”

“Well I can see that you are attempting to write a letter—or perhaps a poem—for the Lady Elizabeth and judging by your intemperate state and volatile reaction…I would posit that your work is not coming along half as well as you might have hoped.”

Ciel turned away so that he was now facing the grand bay windows behind him. The sunset had melted into a dark lavender with embers of red-gold burning round its edges. The entire landscape of sundials, rose gardens, and tall trees were silhouetted in black while the faint twinkling of stars began to appear in the sky.

It didn’t take him long to realize he’d spent the entire day—from eight in the morning to now—holed away in his study in a desperate attempt to write a half-decent poem for Elizabeth. But every time he wrote down a few lines of prose, he would re-read it in disgust and begin again. Nothing he wrote seemed good enough for the golden-haired daughter of the sun.

“Might I suggest something, my lord?” The demon spoke but he sounded far away.

Ciel had almost forgotten that Sebastian was still in the room. With his eyes fixed on a late summer robin, Ciel raised his hand in an affirmative gesture. “Go on.”

“If the lady of gold and laughter is meant for the sun, then you are but a song of the moon. There is nothing Lady Elizabeth enjoys more than spending time with you, so why not reflect this in your poem?”

“I’m not writing a poem.” Ciel interrupted. “This is a…exercise in expression.”

Sebastian raised a brow, half-smirk in place. “Pardon me then, young master. I was unaware that you differentiated poetry in that way.”

“I said—“

“Come now, cease your protestations. St. Valentine will not come for another year and, might I point out, this day is nearly over.”

“Deliver this to Lizzy at once.” Ciel’s fingertips were ink-stained, his cravat mussed, and leaflets of paper surrounded both his desk and the carpet around him.

The evening sky was now a dark plum velvet with twinkling diamond stars and a silvery crescent moon hanging over the Phantomhive manor. Ciel knew that in fifteen minutes, the grandfather clock would strike twelve and it would no longer be February the fourteenth. This blasted holiday had kept him from both his business at Funtom and his duty as the Queen’s Watchdog but for once in his life, Ciel couldn’t bring himself to give a damn.

This was for Elizabeth. Dear, sweet Elizabeth who asked so little of him and expected even less—what could he do but give her the only thing he had left? The broken and tattered pieces of his heart was a hideous sight, scarred and littered with poisonous black ash—but they were the purest part of him. The part he would entrust to Elizabeth and no one else.

Elizabeth, his champion and fiancée…Sunday’s child and Apollo’s successor. If he belonged to the night and all her dark terrors, then Elizabeth was his direct juxtaposition—sunshine and warmth and sweet, summer love.

“My lord.” Sebastian appeared, bowed on one knee.

Ciel handed him the letter, carefully sealed with red wax and a silk ribbon. “Make sure Lizzy gets this before the stroke of midnight.”

Sebastian arrived at the Midford castle in just a few seconds. He stood outside the balcony of Lady Elizabeth’s room, hidden by shadows and black magic; he neared the veranda doors that led to her room and gently slipped the piece of paper through. With a touch of his finger, the letter fluttered across the room, landing right atop the lady’s silk pillow.

With his task complete, Sebastian could have left right then and there but he lingered for a few moments more, waiting for the sound of excited footsteps and fluttering satin.

It didn’t take long before Paula opened the door and a smiling Elizabeth entered the room.

“Paula, I’d like to be alone for a few minutes.” She addressed to her brunette maid. “I’m going to write a letter to Ciel and see if he’d like to come here for tea tomorrow.”

“But my lady, St. Valentine’s Day was today!”

“Oh I know.” Elizabeth waved a hand, walking closer to her bed. “But Ciel’s never liked the frivolity involved in the whole affair and I won’t torture him into doing anything he doesn’t want to.” She turned around. “I just want to see him smile again Paula, and I know strawberry cake and hot honey tea will do a much better job of that then commercialized holidays and red paper hearts.”

Brava, my lady. Sebastian was impressed; he’d always known Lady Elizabeth to be a woman of deeper character than what was initially presumed. Despite her fondness for all things pink and cute, this emerald eyed fae of a Shakespearean spring loved too deeply to ever be so ignorant.

In a matter of moments, Paula had untied Lady Elizabeth’s twin tails and left the room, leaving Sebastian to admire the softly curled aureate waves glimmering under the chandelier light. Sun, gold, summer, and hope.

“Now what is this?” Elizabeth murmured, picking up the enclosed letter on her pillow. Sebastian watched her break the red seal wax, saw her sit down on her bed as her jade eyes misted over with tears.

I have adored no one but you,

in the way that only the moon

could love the sun.

I am but yours, effortlessly,

ingeniously,

and know only of your warmth

when we brush so tenderly

once every spring,

before I retreat under Nyx’s shadow

and you to golden Apollo.

Sweet daughter of the sun,

give me a lunar sunrise so that I

may remember the story of how

the moon loved the sun

so much

that he would commit sin and

confound heaven if only to be

Cielizzy Week 2017 @cielizzydefencesquad

Day 1: Protection/Hope

Couldn’t chose and I realized a story I’ve been working on (getting all the pieces together) would fit both aspects well, so I combined them. Hope people like, this is only a small section of it.

Time: Taking place during debutant season, thus late spring and early summer. Keep in mind this is after the Blue Cult arc, so I’m only hinting at those developments. I have to wait and see what develops.

 By the Lake

So it had come to this, Ciel thought as he crouched down among the taller grass around the lake at Mooring Manor. Here he was, in the dead of night, dressed in a night dress and night cap, crawling around in the mud like some common spy and Sebastian nowhere in sight. He gritted his teeth as he painstakingly moved through the rain covered grass, all the while trying both not to make a sound and not to get dirty so that the other girls in the manor wouldn’t ask questions. The droplets on his bare legs made him shiver and he had to wonder why he didn’t think to put on pants before running out. Of course that would mean waking up Mey rin, and also would lose him time. Time he didn’t have, and every second counted if he wanted to know what was going on.

For the past several weeks he’d been undercover on the behest of his Aunt Frances, and then of the Queen herself. As it had happened one of Frances friend’s daughters had gone missing and had not returned home. The two women had shown up at his estate surprisingly early five weeks ago, a few days after he’d finished yet another mission for the Queen.

“Aunt Frances? To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he’d been genuinely surprised to see her come and glanced around. Lizzie wasn’t with her, something he felt a bit sad about, as usually if his Aunt came Lizzie would be right behind her. However, since the situation with the Blue cult, things had been tense between the two teens and it was something that Ciel felt he was going to have to deal with. He’d given Lizzie space to deal with things on her own, but her distance to him made him feel, lonely. He didn’t know how else to describe it.

“Your hair is messed up as usual,” Frances had said, and Ciel glanced at Sebastian who had his hair slicked back by his Aunt. Ciel had readied for her to march over and do the same to him, but surprisingly she didn’t. He glanced over her form, dressed as impeccable as always, his Aunt Frances was a woman that you didn’t mess with and normally she had the look of a woman determined to get something done. And yet, for today at least, she seemed far more worried than anything else.

Ciel dutifully slicked his own hair back and she seemed to smile, even as it fell out of place just as fast. “You never could keep your hair fixed, just like your father.”

Ciel shrugged at this and took a sip of tea, “I suppose in that way we are alike.”

“Would you care for some breakfast?” Sebastian asked, offering her a seat and Frances took it. “We have a lovely set up of…”

Holding up her hand she silenced him, making Sebastian pause as she spoke, “Black tea and some toast. I’m honestly not hungry.”

“As you wish, Madam,” Sebastian gave a bow as he went to retrieve her requested and Ciel offered her some jam choices for when the toast came back.

“So why did you come? Is Lizzie coming with you today?”

“No, quite frankly I don’t want her here for this.” Frances told him and this gave the young Earl a moment of surprise, though he tried to hide it.

“Oh?” he set down his cup as he had stopped mid drink and looked at her curiously. This was a first and something he’d not seen from his Aunt. “This isn’t about the Blue…”

“We won’t be talking about that Ciel,” she said briskly. Ciel knew not to press, his Aunt was dealing with Lizzie in her own way, and he hoped that she could sort things out for her. He was worried that there was going to be lingering effects from that case, and he knew he’d have to eventually deal with them.

“Then what exactly?”

Sebastian brought over the tea and toast, which Frances thanked him, and set about spreading some strawberry jam on the slice of bread, after taking care of her tea. “I’ve invited a friend over to come and speak with you. She needs,” Frances looked at her tea as she spoke cautiously, “assistance.”

Ciel gave her a quizzical look, “Assistance in what?”

“Her daughter…” started Frances and Ciel raised an eyebrow as if to ask his Aunt if she was trying to set him up to go to a ball or something with this girl.

“I don’t think I have time for…”

“Ciel, it’s not a gentleman’s role that’s needed here,” Frances snapped, and stirred her tea. She seemed nervous, annoyed, and slightly frightened. Ciel folded his hands listening as she spoke. “Her daughter has gone missing it seems.”

“Missing?” Ciel asked and Frances quickly shook her head.

“I don’t know everything. She said she would explain in detail when she arrived, but the Countess is a woman that is easily emotional about her child. Agatha was sent for lessons for her debut, she was supposed to come out this season, but has not returned home. She last wrote her mother saying that she had no intention of coming out, and that she was going to be a woman of the world.”

Ciel stared a bit dumbfounded by this. “A woman of the world? What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure myself,” admitted Frances. “I assume that means travel, but it could be code for something else. She has the letter, if you ask I’m sure Countess Lauding would let you look at it.”

Ciel nodded, “And what time was she supposed to arrive?”

“A half hour after I did,” Frances told him and Sebastian quickly slipped out of the room to start preparing for the Countesses arrival. This wasn’t enough time for a normal butler, but for Sebastian, well this wasn’t a huge challenge either.

Exactly a half hour on the mark a carriage pulled up with an older, shorter woman, dressed in a garish green dress and hat. She had on furs and looked like she had been crying as she tried to hide her red face behind a veil.

“Countess Olga Lauding,” Sebastian introduced her to Ciel as he came over to greet her with his Aunt. The woman looked at him, sniffled and then said in a voice that sounded much like that of a frog croaking.

“Oh he looks like the sweetest boy. Such an angelic face, much like my…my…my AGATHA!” she started to sob again and Ciel winced with the loud crying sound the woman made as Frances went over to console her friend.

“Perhaps it would be best to take this meeting in the solarium,” Sebastian had whispered and Ciel had him quickly usher the sobbing woman and his Aunt there. He was already feeling exhausted by the lady that was visiting. Joining them not that long after he found she’d settled in nicely, munching on biscuits and tea, and seemingly calmer than before. Although she was still crying behind her veil.

“Countess Lauding,” Ciel sat opposite the two women who were sharing a bench across the table from him. “My Aunt was telling me that you want me to look into a matter for you?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” croaked the woman as she ate. “Frances said that you were one of the best at resolving issues in a discreet manner. And I need this resolved, my poor baby is out there and I’m so worried for her.”

Ciel sighed, this was reminding him of the situation with Derick Arden, though he didn’t want to think of that situation as the outcome would not be beneficial to the woman that sat before him. Ciel crossed his legs and watched her carefully, trying to read her face and body language, something he’d picked up from Sebastian when he was playing the Vicar Jeremy. The one thing that he managed to pull in was the fact that this woman was trying to control her own emotions and clearly was distraught by her missing child.

“Can you tell me, in brief, what happened?” he’d asked and the Countess began to relate the events as quickly as she could.

“My daughter Agatha is turning nineteen this year, it’s her debutant event, as custom with our family to have our girl’s come out when they’re nineteen. Well, she’s been training for several years now, and learning all the things that a refined young woman must learn. Her teacher, Ms. Mary Smithson, has for a final lesson every year the young ladies go to Mooring Manor, it’s just off the Northern coast near Whitby in North Yorkshire.”

Ciel glanced at his Aunt for some confirmation as she added directly, “Various schools will take small trips out to a location where the young ladies can practice more candidly. Sometimes the younger students will go visit the older students there for refined lessons, although it’s not for long periods.”

“So how does this connect to your daughter going missing?” Ciel inquired as he folded his fingers watching the older Countess as she shook sipping her tea. Frances had to hold her arm to keep her from spilling it.

“Well, as it is, Agatha was chosen as one of the leaders of her class for Ms. Smithson’s school. Leader’s help refine the younger girls and she had to leave early for Mooring, about a month before the other girls come. At first I got letters weekly, telling me all about what was happening, but then, the letters started to slow down. I only received them two times every two weeks. Agatha knows I like to keep in strict contact with her so I found it odd. Then I got no response from her when I told her that we were making arrangements for this spring for her to have her own ball to welcome her to society. And I heard nothing back at all.”

The woman looked like she was about to cry again, and Ciel quickly handed her a handkerchief which she gratefully took to wipe her eyes. “So no responses to any letter you wrote after that?”

“None,” the Countess told him directly. “Earl Phantomhive, I can’t tell you how worried I’ve been. I’ve written Ms. Smithson, but she only said that Agatha was busy and that she didn’t have time to write. Yet other girls in her class certainly were keeping their mothers abreast of their works at the school.”

“Could it be that she simply is too busy to write?” Ciel suggested casually, and the woman shook her head vehemently.

“No, I know my daughter. She wouldn’t have just left off like this! She’s a very attentive girl, your grace.” The countess sighed and whimpered some. “More recently I received a letter from my daughter, but it doesn’t sound like her.” She pulled a small envelop from her bag and handed it over to Ciel who looked it over as the Countess quietly sobbed into his kerchief.

Ciel furrowed his brows as he read the elegant scrawl.

‘Dearest Mother,’ it began, ‘I’m writing to inform you that I have no need of a debutant ball. My life is fulfilled and I am excited to begin it.

Dear Mother, whom I adore, do not worry about me as I’ve found myself and have become a woman of the world. I shall strive to make others as fulfilled as I am. Do not seek me out, nor write to me again until I write to you. I have no need for the past now, and no need of social structures.

Mother I shall not be writing again, but known that I love you.

You’re dearest Agatha.’

Ciel stared at the letter, slightly intrigued, but also more confused. The letter seemed to be a normal decoration of independence from her family. Yet there did seem to be something odd about it. The structure, the way it felt like it was a form letter, and the insistence of not writing to her or seeking her out.

Handing the letter over to Sebastian, who quickly tucked it away, Ciel gazed at the Countess.

“I have a few questions I need answering, Countess Lunding,” she nodded as he leaned forward and watched her eyes as he asked. “Firstly, has your daughter been in contact with less than desirable people?”

The Countess paused, “What…what do you mean by that?”

“I mean has she been associating with men and women that frequent opium dens, or in areas of town where noble young women normally do not frequent?”

“No!” insisted the Countess. “At least I don’t think she has. We never go out unless it’s as a family. Agatha is our only child. I…I could not carry another to term, so we decided that she was to be our only heir and angel.”

“I see, I am sorry for your losses,” Ciel said then quickly added, “What of her friends? Does she have any?”

“She normally associates with young ladies at the debutante school, or at the ladies college that she attends, oh and she does charity work at some work houses,” the Countess explained. “But she normally goes with me to the work houses as part of our church.”

“So she’s fairly dutiful as far as being a daughter is concerned,” Ciel inquired and the Countess nodded. “What of the school run by Ms. Smithson? How is that?”

“Well we were invited through one of our family friends, their daughter attends it. It seemed to be a good fit for Agatha, and we’ve only heard good things from the girls that graduated from there.”

Ciel again looked to his Aunt for any input that she could give. Frances shook her head, and he figured she’d talk later. Back and forth this went, the Countess answering questions about Agatha and what she could about the school, who ran it, and how one got an invitation. It all seemed normal and fairly familiar as far as Ciel understood about ladies debutant schools and teachers.

“Well,” he finally said to her as they were wrapping up the interview and the day had gotten late. “I will certainly see what I can do, but I can’t promise much as there’s not a lot to go on, Countess, but I will do my best.”

“That’s all I ask,” Countess Olga said as she mounted her carriage. “Take care of yourself, young Earl. I’m sure that one day you’ll be invited to a ball as well.”

Ciel gave her a slight smile at this, as her carriage departed. Once it was gone he went in with his Aunt and turned on her asking.

“How does this all concern you?”

“Olga is a friend of Alexis’s Aunt Eunice,” Frances told him and he tilted his head. “You’re wondering what I think?”

“Yes.”

“Honestly I suspect she may have gotten married or run off with a young man that she met in Whitby. But without proof I can’t make that argument to her.” Frances told him as they made their way into a parlor.

“I suspect you’re staying for dinner?”

“No, I can’t. But I do want you to at least look into this matter Ciel. It might not be as important as your other matters, but it’s something that would certainly do me a favor.”

Ciel paused and gave her a slight glance, “You’re my Aunt, Marquees. How can I say no to you?”

“You could, but I’m pleased that you’re not.” Frances smiled at him and added. “You’ve grown, Ciel. Matured from where you were three years ago.”

He nodded, but felt unsure of that himself. While Ciel certainly had Sebastian look into the matter, he wasn’t completely sure that there was much he could do about it. Without proof of some form of foul play, or a way to learn more about Agatha, other then what her few friends told him –“She’s sweet, honest, loyal and a wonderful young woman that you can trust and depend on” –he could only guess about what happened to Agatha. So he put the case on the back burner to focus on more pressing matters.

Things changed though when the Queen sent the double Charles to bring him a note at his London estate while he was visiting there. The letter pertained to a similar case, only in this case it was a friend of the Queen’s daughter, and she and several other high ranked nobles had gone missing. The one thing connecting all the girls was the fact that they all went to Mooring Manor through different debutant schools.

So it was because of the Queen’s order that Ciel had to go to his Aunt and ask how to make inquires at Mooring Manor.

“You can’t.” Frances had explained when he had come to visit her.

“What do you mean I can’t?” Ciel had questioned. “That makes no sense.”

“During the time that the Manor is being used by the debutant schools, men are not allowed on the premises. Only girls, and only girls that are connected to a school.”

Ciel stared at her hard, “So you’re telling me I can’t simply go there to ask questions.”

“No.”

He scowled, “How does one get into Ms. Smithson’s classes?”

Frances paused in reading her book, “Don’t expect to, Ciel. Her classes are all booked up. There’s no way a new young woman can join.”

“So then another school or class?” he inquired and Frances seemed to think for a moment then shut her book. She seemed to mull over something and looked thoughtfully at her nephew.

“If you can get someone inside to make inquires then you’ll have your information, correct? And you will look for the Countess’s daughter?”

“Yes, of course, I have been making inquiries but hit a wall in them until now.” He admitted to her and Frances gave him a small smile. She shook her head and chuckled.

“Just like your father.”

Ciel tilted his head, “Aunt Frances, what do you know?”

“Nothing, but I can give you an in. I’ll write you an invitation and get you a meeting with the school that I went to. Miss Candomire’s Finishing school is excellent. Not the new modern one like Ms. Smithson’s but it has its own charms, and it teaches the basics very well.”

“Thank you Aunt Frances,” Ciel meant every word of it. This wasn’t going to be easy and he made a face. “When should I expect a call from the school?”

“In a week’s time,” Frances told him. True to her word Ciel received a letter at his home asking for a meeting with the young lady of the Violet household. This surprised him but decided to find out details later. There was work that needed to be done and he knew sadly what that meant. Visiting Nina Hopkins for the costumes he was going to need was not something that he wanted to do, but he did so any way. Of course she had been excited about making the dress for him, and true to her word she had the outfit ready for him two days before the meeting.

Ciel sucked in all his embarrassment as he went to the school’s main building with Sebastian in tow. The demon was, as usual, acting smug about the whole thing.

“Don’t you dare laugh about this, or tell anyone.” He’d warned Sebastian as he sat there in a dark blue dress and long blue braided wig. He’d been careful to have his eye hidden, but if he got in, he knew he couldn’t keep it that way forever, so he covered it with an elegant looking eye patch and had hoped that the whole thing would play off to the Headmistress as an unfortunate case of the young woman having been blind in one eye at an early age.

Thankfully everything went according to the plan. Cecilia Violet, cousin to the former Prefect Gregory Violet of the Weston Academy, was a young woman who wished to have a chance to advance her placement in society and learn to be one of the best. The only thing that made Ciel take pause, as Sebastian looked over the information at the school was that there was no butler’s allowed, only maids could help serve them.

In the carriage Ceil grimaced as Sebastian shrugged his shoulders and seemed to let out the weakest remorseful sigh ever. “It seems like I won’t be able to be by your side there, my lord.”

“But you’ll still be on the grounds. I’ll make that happen,” Ciel told him and Sebastian smiled.

“But of course,” he looked over the recommendation letter that Gregory Violet’s mother had sent. “It seems your Aunt has turned and gotten the aid from your Master Violet’s family. I suppose this is a thanks for our work helping them with their son, no doubt.”

Ciel nodded, he was going to have to thank Violet in some way later for this. Of the P4, Violet was the one that he trusted and the one that he got along with. He watched out the carriage as people passed in the early spring weather and made a face.

“This means I’m going to have to bring Mey-rin with me. I’m not sure she’s up to the challenge, but…” he paused thinking that she was the only female servant he had, and she’d have to be trained in how to dress him.

“Fear not my lord,” Sebastian smiled at him. “I will personally make sure she’s fully trained and that she’s ready for your lessons.”

The smile on his face didn’t instill courage in Ciel. He knew that Sebastian could train Mey-rin, but he was sure that the maid wouldn’t remember half of it. He could only hope that they could pull this off. Exactly two weeks to the day Ciel and Mey-rin arrived at their first lesson at the Harrington estate where the girls from Miss Candomire’s Finishing school was being hosted.

It was there that Ciel got the surprise that he wasn’t ready for. Lizzie was there as well, and was in one of the later stage classes. This meant that at times they were going to have to not only meet but also Lizzie was going to have to mentor him as Cecilia. And so it went, for days and weeks, Ciel trying to not only gather information but avoid Lizzie out of fear of her both seeing him dressed as a girl, and finding out what he was doing there.

Time passed slowly for the young Earl and he made friends with the lower girls, trying to find out about Agatha and the Queen’s Daughter’s friend. It wasn’t until almost a full month in that he was able to get to know a select group of girls calling themselves the Dancing Princesses. These were the most well off and the girls in the classes. Young women that were close to coming out and who had family that had the bluest of the blue blood. They were catty in some cases, and in others overly charming. Ciel despised them, but they became useful as he quickly discovered that Agatha had been involved with the group.

So it went, Ciel carefully laying the ground work to get involved with the Dancing Princesses, and hearing whispers about them going out to a weekly party hidden away from all the eyes of the watching teachers. The school had gone to Mooring Manor as part of a retreat for the girls, and it was there, while in his room, that Ciel had seen the lantern lights floating across the moors.

Intrigued, he’d gone out to investigate, minus Mey-rin and Sebastian, and was now crawling around trying to follow the group of girls, dressed in full on regalia, crossing the sea of grass like a bunch of ghostly ships in the dead of night.

As he got closer to the assembly he spotted at least three of the girls from the Dancing princess group that he’d come to recognize as ring leaders and tried to listen to what they were saying. That’s when he felt something watching him and was sure that he was being followed.

Ciel turned quickly in the darkness, but the sound of his body moving caught the attention of one of the girls at the end of the line and they stopped walking. Ciel froze realizing the moon was coming out of the clouds. He was about to be spotted when, whatever was following him, knocked him down into the dirt and he held in a scream. A warm, but cool, hand covered his mouth and shushed him.

“Stay quiet please,” a voice whispered, and in the glint of moonlight Ciel could make out long blonde locks. He froze and listened as the girl got a bit closer, then seemed to search for a moment, before turning and rejoining her friends. There was quite chatter, and then they moved on.

Once the cluster of girls had walked a bit farther Ciel felt the hand move from his mouth. He could feel the weight of a body on his, and, as a part of him swallowed nervously as his hand touched the back of his assalient. He could also feel a chest pressing against his, a growing female chest at that, and it made him turn red. His eyes quickly moved to the face that hovered over his, Lizzie. But she wasn’t looking at him, her green eyes were on the girls that were heading farther out.

“I think…yes they can’t hear us now,” she sat up and moved back some looking down at Ciel who stared up at her. There was a small scowl on her face although she looked more worried.

“What are you doing out here?” They both questioned at the same time, and Lizzie was the first to respond.

“Trying to find out what you’re up to.”

Ciel quickly tried to put on a fake voice in reply, “Me? Oh nothing. I just wanted to see the stars.”

Lizzie grew annoyed by this and quickly ripped the night cap off his head.

“Lizzie, no!” he yelped and reached to pull it back. Ciel was ready for her to jump in surprise, but she didn’t.

“Why…” he could see hot tears in her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you were on a case here! Why have you been avoiding me Ciel?! Tell me!”

She threw the cap back at him, “After all this time, after everything with…” she clenched her fists, “have you come to distrust me so much?”

“I could ask you the same question, you’ve been avoiding me too,” he started to say then bit his lip and closed his eyes. Seeing those tears hurt. “Lizzie…I…I’m sorry. You’re mother asked me to get involved in this. I didn’t want you having to deal with…I could never…”

He was babbling again. Why only around her, when she was upset like this, when she was embarrassed or honest with him could he never get his words right. He cleared his throat. “How long have you known.”

“Since about a week or so after Cecelia first was introduced to me. I recognized Mey-rin and Paula had to help her out, so it didn’t take much for me to put things together.” She stared at him, a pained look crossed her face. “Do you hate me now? After what happened? Do you hate me?”

“No! Lizzie I could never hate you! You of all people,” he looked away, not sure what to say. Blavat had done a number on their trust.

“So why not tell me?”

“Because other people would find out Lizzie, and then, things could get out of hand. And I won’t have you hurt.” He told her looking her in the eye. “I couldn’t tell you for your own protection.”

“My protection?!” she shook her head. “Ciel, I’m perfectly capable of keeping myself safe, you on the other hand…”

She looked at him, dirty night gown, hair a mess, pale skin covered in mud. This was so not like the Ciel she knew, and it made her suddenly giggle. They were outside, in the middle of the night, in a light rain, covered in mud and dirt, and fighting about…did it really matter. Lizzie reached out and brushed the mud from his cheek.

“Here, at least let me clean you up.”

Ciel froze, not sure what to do. This was different than normal. Normally Lizzie would be crying and upset. Normally she would be acting like a child, but here, in this place, she had to be more mature to follow the rules. Around him, she always acted the way she did to please him, and yet, right now, he wasn’t sure what to say. A flush covered his face, this wasn’t what he was used to and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Thank you,” he said closing his eyes and letting her clean his face. The moment the hand was gone he missed it. But there was matters to deal with. Lizzie had since moved off him, and again he missed her weight, oddly. He wasn’t sure why but he did.

She’d folded her night dress and robe over her knees and waited to see what he was thinking.

“Did you’re mother tell you I was here on a mission for her?”

“No,” Lizzie admitted, “Though I assume it’s about the girls that have gone missing.”

Ciel looked at her surprised, “You know about that?”

Lizzie looked embarrassed. “Girls will gossip around here. I’m not that well liked because of my skills, but, some do tell me things. There’s rumors about a weekly dance.” She looked up. “Should we follow them?”

Ciel nodded and got up, they were far enough away that they could still see the lights but not so far that they had lost them, and he was sure they wouldn’t be seen. Following quietly he explained to her what was happening and Lizzie, taking in everything, seemed at first shocked, then angry.

“Do you think someone is kidnapping the girls?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “But I intend to at least find out. That’s why I wanted to get in close to the Dancing princesses. They seem to know something.”

Ciel kicked at the grass as he tried to move, “This gown is too long.” Suddenly he felt something tug at the hem and looked back to see Lizzie take off the tie to her robe and loop it around his night gown. With deft movement she tucked up the lower skirt just enough to allow him to move freely. His legs were colder now, but he could easily run.

“That should help some,” she commented and Ciel nodded as they moved on.

“Thank you, again. How long were you following me?”

“Since you left the manor house,” Lizzie admitted as she hiked up her skirt to follow him through the moors. “The farther we go the more it turns into a swamp. How did they get across this?”

Ciel snorted, “I bet they know a path or they were given a map where there are boards set up.”

Lizzie watched as the lights grew dimmer. “We can’t go any farther then this and they’re moving way to fast.”

“Not to mention someone will notice us missing. I’m sure they have a way back in,” Ciel muttered as he yanked his foot out of the mud and shook his head. “Why would they go off into marshes in the middle of the night to dance at a party?”

“We could come in the morning,” Lizzie suggested and Ciel looked up at her from his musings. She smiled, “Every weekend there’s free time to spend. Some girls go off into town. We can go exploring the moors to look for flowers and the like. They won’t question that at all, and we can look for a path that could lead us across here.”

Ciel stared for a moment then laughed, “Lizzie, that’s a brilliant idea.” And it would work. It was something that he could easily do without Sebastian. “Alright, tomorrow I’ll…”

“We’ll …” she corrected, again he stared. “I’m coming with you.”

“Sebastian can come…” he started to say and she quickly pointed out.

“If they see you with one of the servants here that’s not your own someone will talk. It’s better to have a friend with you, then Sebastian.”

Ciel sighed somewhat reluctantly. “Very well,” he crossed his arms. “You’ll come with me to find out how they’re walking across this quagmire. But that’s it. I don’t want you getting involved in all this.” He started to walk back and she grabbed him by the arm.

“Ciel, I am involved. You’re here, and I….” Lizzie blushed some and tried to look lady like, “I need to keep you safe. You don’t know what those girls are capable of.”

“And you do?” he inquired, almost with a smirk. Lizzie nodded and Ciel looked concerned.

“They can be very petty and catty. One girl had her hair cut here last year because she had asked one of the boys that came to the practice dances to put his name on her card. The boy, I heard, was liked by one of the older girls, and she threw a fit and cut her hair because of it. There has been dead mice and bugs found in peoples beds and dressers. It’s not safe to start questioning them if you don’t know how to move in their circles.”

Ciel glanced down at Lizzie’s hand and took it in his. “Alright. Let’s get out of here. I can’t stay in this chill much longer.”

Lizzie nodded and helped him to navigate out of the marsh area till they were on dry land. There, the ground was a bit warmer, so Ciel could feel his toes once more. He looked over her then himself. Both were covered in dry mud, speckled on like freckles over their skin from the walk.

“How are we going to cover this?” He could make out Sebastian’s smirk among the larger rock formations that dotted the moors, clearly the demon was enjoying this show. He’d have to deal with him later.

“When we get back in, we can set up a bath for you. I don’t have to get up early in this case since my classes start later and Paula can cover for that. You do though,” Lizzie pointed out as they walked hand in hand under the dark sky. It was during this walk that Ciel noticed that neither had let go and he thought for a moment.

“Lizzie,” she looked back at him as she was in the lead.

“Yes, Ciel?”

He turned away, partly embarrassed, “If you’re going to help me, you’re going to need to be my knight and protect me. Are you ready to do that? There’s a chance that things could get out of control. People could be hurt, and there are things I must do for Her Majesty. You do understand this?”

Lizzie nodded then let go, turned and curtsied to him. This surprised Ciel who watched her, then took on his normal noble air as she spoke.

“Earl of Phantomhive, I Lady Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford, daughter of Marquess Alexis Leon Midford, leader of the British knights, will protect you with my life and be your sword and shield until your mission as the Queen’s Watchdog has ended. This I swear.”

Ciel covered a small laugh at this but seemed rather pleased as Lizzy stood up and held out her hand to his. He took it and silently pledged to himself.

“I Earl Ciel Phatomhive, will protect you Elizabeth, with my life.”

Hi loves, to celebrate Cielizzy Week here’s a little fic I wrote a while back that’s one of my personal favorites. Thank you to everyone who’s participating - we’re so grateful for your enthusiasm and love for Cielizzy! :) 

Saudade 

In the name of higher consciousness/ I let the best man I knew go/ Cause it’s nice to love and be loved/ But it’s better to know all you can know. — Lana Del Rey ‘Pawn Shop Blues’

Desert flowers scented the air. Dried dark pink petals blowing across the dusty yellow plains. The sky was too clear and too blue, and the sun radiated far too much heat. Arizona's atmosphere was muggy, heavy with possibility and goodbyes. It was such an odd place to be, Lizzy decided, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, distinctly uncomfortable under her bonnet and parasol. Her cheeks were flushed red from the stifling heat and her light muslin shift—a dress Francis Midford would have condemned with absolute indignation—clung to her sweat soaked back though she refused to go back to the carriage.

Not yet, anyway. Not now.

Taking a deep breath, Lizzy almost choked on the oppressive heat, mouth dry and eyes wet, before she caught the faint perfume of cactus blossoms and clear desert air. Clutching her parasol closer, Lizzy bit down on her lower lip and gazed desperately at the vast expanse of sand and sky.

Gold and pale blue.

Ciel was dead. He was dead and gone—and so was Sebastian. Funtom had been transferred to Edward, so he could hold onto it until Lizzy was old enough. It was a stupid thing to do she’d cried; why would he leave it to her? She didn’t want his company or his mansion or his money—she wanted him. Ciel, the boy she loves—loved, her treacherous mind corrects—best of all. All she'd ever wanted was her and Ciel, the two of them smiling and standing in a garden of Eden with lush green canopies overhead and pale pink and yellow blossoms surrounding them.

She wanted children—a boy and perhaps a little girl too—laughing and joyous; the four of them playing by a circular lily pond filled with baby turtles and fuzzy yellow ducklings. She wanted to watch as dark purple and blue soaked the sky, to see evening stars come out and witness Ciel carrying their children inside for bedtime. She wanted happiness but, if domesticity was too much, Lizzy would gladly align her own dreams to match his. If he needed to be the queen’s watchdog always then she would help him in any way she could. She would stay away and be good, sweet, and ignorant if he wished; she would fight and aid and protect if that’s what he wanted.

Her entire heart had dissolved into his hands and she trusted him to hold onto it.

And for ten years he did. For ten years Ciel belonged to Lizzy and no one else. He loved her just as much as she loved him.

But then the fire, with its lashing red-orange flames and volatile pyromaniacs, burned Ciel’s home and his parents and his love to black ash. And for a month Ciel collected that ash and put it where his heart should have been. He took to Sebastian and London’s underworld and left Lizzy because she belonged to another spring. In the winter of his discontent, he froze out the world and everyone in it though Lizzy fought as best she could to breech the fortress walls and give light and warmth and love.

Maybe—even for a little while—Ciel appreciated it. She remembers his fingers brushing against her cheek, his sapphire eye looking into her soul and his desperate, broken whisper of Lizzy, please. She didn’t know what he was asking for—not then, not when the sun was setting and the world bathed in archaic fire—but she said something that made him smile and he kissed her for the first and last time.

The next day, the sun’s fire killed Ciel and all that was left was a pale corpse, an empty home...a black velvet coffin, embossed with gold fleur-de-lis.

And just like that, Ciel was gone.

Standing there, firm on her own two feet, Lizzy breathes in the hot desert air and closes the jade green eyes that’d always been the window to her soul. A scrapbook of memories, faded but still colorful, come to the forefront of her mind. She can almost smell Countess Phantomhive’s blush roses and earthy sweet May grass before she and Ciel tumbled to the ground, laughing and playing in this beautiful, forgotten arcadia.

She can see so many memories, most of them blurred together, but one moment stands out, brighter than all the rest.

I will never let this person go.

The night is dark and the air full of desperate screams; the Campania is sinking and Ciel is holding her hand, fighting the cold, rushing ocean water and—

Salty tears roll down Lizzy’s cheeks. At last, she cries softly into the palm of her lace gloved hand because finally—finally—she understands what Ciel is asking for. He could not let go of Lizzy because she must be strong enough to let go of him.

Lizzy, please. 

Perhaps he did love her, perhaps he saw her as something beyond the conventional bounds of affection, entrusting her the amity and attachment of his bruised and battered heart. Executor of his last will.

Black humor, Lizzy thinks and then shakes her head. Ciel would have smiled at that.

Squeezing her eyes shut one last time, Lizzy conjures up the image of Ciel, seventeen and blue and beautiful, and slowly—so slowly—opens her eyes as the image dissolves into the crystalline air. Tilting her head up, Lizzy is met by a sky of pure, untouched sapphire—the exact same shade as Ciel’s eyes.

Everyone, she decides, deserves a proper goodbye and while her heart constricts with something like physical pain, Lizzy keeps her gaze locked on the blue, blue sky—and smiles.