#one hell of a queue

You feel bad about it, but you’ve sometimes thought that you should burn all the letters that SOMA has sent you.

It would be better than your family finding them, wouldn’t it? Your parents have always tried to crush any good thing you’ve had. If they found these messages from a man you’ve fallen in love with, if they read the contents of these letters, they would put a stop to it immediately. That’s the only reason you’ve considered burning the letters after reading them.

You can’t bring yourself to do it, though. Every word that Soma has ever written you is like a ray of sunlight shining into your life. That very first one he ever sent you started with, Dearest (Name), We do not know each other yet, but I’m hoping to change that. My name is Prince Soma Asman Kadar, and my close friend Maurice Cole asked if I would write you because he knows you’re lonely and your family does not treat you nicely. So, I am writing you in the hopes that I can be your friend! Hello! It’s very nice to meet you!

God, if only you’d known what would follow. In the beginning, Soma became a good friend of yours… one of the few you have. You can remember writing Maurice and thanking him, mentioning that if Soma didn’t want to continue talking to you, he was free to tell Soma to stop sending letters.

However, the prince’s enthusiasm for speaking with you became clearer and clearer with every letter he sent. He uses too many exclamation points, perhaps because he’s always excited about everything. About talking to you, in particular, it seems. Soon enough these friendly correspondences slowly transitioned into ardent love letters.

People would be shocked to see the things you and Soma write to each other. He has no sense of shame; you think that’s one of the things you love about him. He wants to kiss you, all over your body, and he says so plainly as many times as he can, and he doesn’t care who knows it.

No matter how isolated and worthless you feel at home, trapped here despite being an adult who should be out on her own by now, you can always count on Soma to tell you how much he loves you. You haven’t burned those letters because Soma’s love has brought you back to life, and rereading them when you feel alone and unlovable has pulled you back from the edge of despair so many times.

When the latest one arrives, however, you’re not sure what to think except that your mind is trying to panic. This letter is uncharacteristically short for Soma, and there isn’t a single exclamation point to be seen.

Dearest (Name), Princess of My Heart,

Your pain is almost over.

We are going to be together soon, I promise.

And when I come to you, “happily ever after” will be yours at last.

Wait for me, priya.

Love Forever,

Soma

Weeks pass after that letter, without another one. It’s not unusual to go for a week or sometimes two without any messages from Soma, so you try to tell your heart to settle down.

This time just feels different. That last letter you got from him carried some air of finality, and although he’s said similar things that the two of you will be together soon, the way he wrote this one sounds like a sacred vow.

Like he really is on his way, after all this time.

You’re rereading it for what feels like the millionth time, up in your room, when suddenly, you hear something outside which sounds like… the trumpet of an elephant?

Your heartbeat freezes as you remember Soma mentioning that he owns elephants. There was at least one letter he sent you wherein that he made you a solemn promise that he’d take you riding on one someday after he came to rescue you.

Sometimes you think all that talk was just that ― prattle of things that would never actually happen, even if they were nice to think about.

Then you hear the door open downstairs, and someone is calling for you. “(Name)! Excuse me, ma’am, I’m here to see (Name) (Surname)! Yes, I am Prince Soma Asman Kadar! She knows me very well. (Name)! Priya, I’m here! I’m finally here!”

You’ve never gone down the stairs as fast as you do upon hearing all of this. So that’s what Soma’s voice sounds like…? That beautiful accent of his, that bubbly tone, the way you can hear him smiling even though you can’t see him yet. There’s no mistake.

That’s him. That’s your prince, trying to fight his way past the maids.

You’re down into the foyer before any of the staff can summon your parents. “Soma!”

You race toward him, this gorgeous man you’ve never seen before but who your heart would know even if you were blind. His hair is violet, his eyes are gold, and his smile is just as incredible as you’ve dreamed about.

“Soma!” You’re crying as you run into his arms. He catches you like he’s been waiting his whole life to hold you, and you can feel him kissing your head while you bury your face in his neck. You may be holding him too tightly. You don’t care. “Is it really you…?”

His laugh vibrates through your entire being. However tightly you’re holding him, he must be holding you twice as tightly. His arms feel so secure, some safe place you’ve never known until him. You’ve dreamed about this moment a thousand times.

“It’s me, priya. I’m finally here!” As soon as you move your face from his neck, he leans down to kiss you. Your whole body responds, arching into him. You swear your soul is a flower turning toward the light of his. He kisses you ferociously, yearningly, and his hands press in against your back. When you draw apart, his eyes sparkle at you. “I’m sorry we had to wait so long. But guess what? I’ve come to take you away.”

Your heart almost stops again. He can’t mean…? “Take… take me away?” Is this happening? Are you actually going to leave this horrible place and start a life with Soma like the two of you have talked about?

He nods eagerly. “Yes! I have a ring for you at the townhouse, but… there are lots of things to plan. You’re going to come be with me, though, from now on. You won’t stay here with people who don’t treat you like a princess. Are you ready to ride on an elephant?” he grins. As if it’s the most normal question in the world.

You don’t even know what to say. All you can do is let your tears fall down your face as you return his nod, and he reaches up to cup your face in his hands.

The way he looks at you is a way you never knew anyone could look at you. It becomes apparent to you that as much as you’ve been searching for your prince, he’s been searching for his princess. The two of you have been waiting for each other, and you can finally be together.

“I’m going to take you away from here,” he murmurs, before kissing you again. “We’re going to get married, priya. We’re going to find a big, beautiful house of our own, and we’re going to have babies, and you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again. I’m going to take care of you, and I’m going to tell you every day how much I love you.”

It sounds perfect. Too perfect. This isn’t another dream, is it?

You break your gaze from him, only to look over at the shocked maids. “… Tell my parents that I’ve run off with a prince, and I am never speaking to them again.”

To their credit, the maids exchange one glance with each other before nodding. “Good luck, Lady (Name).”

Soma sweeps you up into his arms, and right out the door.

Part of you feels a little bad that you’re leaving the letters he wrote you behind.

But you don’t need them anymore.

You’ve got him now, and you have no doubts that he’ll make you feel just as loved as you felt reading his letters.

Damn, who the hell wasn’t payin’ attention? He knows his darling must have been being careful, because they always are. He does his best not to panic; if they were in a lot of danger, surely the doctors wouldn’t have let them out of hospital. So he does something he doesn’t usually do: swallows his pride. He asks Sebastian to help more with the cooking than he typically does, so that Bard himself can focus on looking after (Name). Thankfully, the household sticks together. While he doesn’t completely neglect his work, he does pay a lot of attention to his sweetheart. Food, pain medicine, anything they might need, he’ll make sure they have it. They’ll be okay, they’ll recover fine, and he’s only too happy to help them along.

An unfortunate turn of events, though with the way some people let their footmen drive, he supposes he isn’t shocked. Still, he’s visibly shaken in the moment, though he retains his quieter, more stoic air as he takes them home. His business is still quite important, but… he’s there if they need anything. Not only does he fully expect Sebastian to make sure (Name) is taken care of, Ciel checks on them frequently. He makes excuses to take a break from his work, and occasionally, he might take his work from his study into their room. Even though he doesn’t feel like he’s good at being… nurturing… he refuses to just let them recover all by themself. He’s there, trying, and that counts for more than he thinks.

Oh, dear, the poor thing! He’s frantic after he hears what happens, although he’s considerably more relaxed once (Name) is back home. As long as they’ve been released, then surely they’re going to be fine. He’s very attentive, because he was scared for a while that he might lose them. Nothing bad is going to happen now that they’re back with him. He runs about doing things like making them tea, putting pillows behind their back and/or under their legs, and giving them massages to keep them from getting sore. It’s also very important to him that his S/O knows how much he loves them, and… he wants them to be more careful after this, alright?

He almost lost them, certainly they can’t expect him to be normal about this?! At least for a while! He sometimes bursts into tears even once (Name) is home again… he knows how close they came to being irreversibly hurt or possibly just gone, that could-have-been grief still crops up. There are bad experiences he’s had that make him worry, so he makes sure that once they’re home, he has plenty of time to look after them. If possible, he wants to get them out in the garden for a while — fresh air and sunshine are good for a body. He fetches them anything they might need, and never fails to remind them that he’s very happy they’re still here with him.

Blast it all, can’t anyone drive carefully?! There are people sharing the roads with carriages, and one of them could have taken his darling away! He’s angry more than anything, though his anger fades noticeably after (Name) comes home from hospital. They’re alright, they’re still alive, everything’s fine. Even though he’s pretty sure they both more than have the right to be angry, it’s better that he focuses on taking care of his beloved. He takes a little leave from service, maybe just a few days or a week, while Phipps fills in for him along with John and Ash. He spends a lot of time just cuddling with his S/O and ensuring they have everything they need whilst they get over the worst of their injuries. He’s here for them… whether they like it or not.

Lord, but no one’s looking out anymore, are they? He could have lost (Name) for good… that’s terrifying. It hits him in this weird spot, because, well, he works with death all day long. He’s starting to get used to it, it no longer fazes him, and then this happens. It brings him back into a fear that his loved ones will die, having brought the possibility into sharp focus. Although he can’t just leave work without consequences, he happily shirks his duties, (perhaps bribing Grell to cover for him), so that he can be at home and care for his sweetheart. His first idea is to offer them a drink, thinking that may dull the pain. Of course, he quickly figures that isn’t a great idea, so he switches to making them tea. Suffice it to say, they get lots of kisses. He almost doesn’t want to leave them ever again! Sigh…

You think endless years of life and loss have shattered your lover into pieces.

Whatever else he may be, you believe the UNDERTAKER is a very, very broken man.

How long has he even been alive for, you wonder? How many people has he lost over his lifetime? Other than the vague fact of, All of them. You don’t want to be another one, but… he knows better than anyone else the cycle of life and death.

It’s simply obvious that he thought he could put a halt to it.

It’s sad to watch him, as you see him now, in this derelict church, sitting among rotted pews and jagged pieces of smashed-in stained glass. There are vines and flowers everywhere; you get the distinct sense that he doesn’t think it’s a beautiful thing.

… This whole place. It reminds you of his heart. Maybe that’s why you assume he doesn’t think it’s beautiful, because he has a very low opinion of himself by this point.

Living has eroded his self-image to nothing, like water beating a rough stone until it’s perfectly polished. You think this place is beautiful, in a melancholy sort of way.

You think he’s beautiful, in a melancholy sort of way. In a contrast to this place, he hasn’t let the new blossoms of moving on grow over him. He’s rooted himself, allowing the memories of his losses to consume him and make growth impossible.

You lower yourself next to him, and it’s telling that he barely even moves. He doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t let his grip loosen a single bit on the chain of mourning lockets that are wrapped around his long nails and draped over his fingers.

God. You can only imagine what’s running through his mind.

You’re quiet as you lean your head against his shoulder. Any words you can think to say sound hollow when they ring in your skull, so you don’t say anything. You just sit, and exist next to the person you love more than anything in this world.

Finally, he’s the one to break the silence.

“It never gets better, y’ know.” His thumb runs over the locket resting in his palm. His eyes are weary, red-rimmed with the evidence of someone who’s cried until he has no tears left, and continued crying regardless.

You tilt your head with a soft hum. A request for elaboration.

The breath he takes is a gasp for air after breaking the surface of nearly drowning. “That’s what ev’ryone told me. ‘It’ll get better.’ ‘Time heals all wounds.’ ‘What do y’ think they’d want y’ t’ do?’”

His hand might crush the locket if that weren’t the very thing he’s been trying to avoid with every effort he’s made. “It’s a bunch of shite. It doesn’t get better. It never heals. An’ how the hell would anyone else know what they’d want me to do? There ain’t no movin’ past a hole in your chest that keeps gettin’ bigger and bigger, somethin’ that ain’t there but it feels so damn heavy y’ can’t get outta bed sometimes.”

He swallows, and it’s audible, and he finally turns to look at you. Fluorescent green eyes are only hidden from you by a film of tears. Suddenly, every scar you can see dotting his body makes you think he’s stitched together with nothing but memories.

As if that’s all he is anymore. A vessel for the memories of all the people he’s ever loved, instead of being the person he used to be.

“I don’t want to let go.” It’s spit out furiously, a response to a question you haven’t even asked yet. He brings the lockets close to his chest and curls into you. “They’re all gone now, (Name). My mum… my dad… the first one I loved… all the other family and friends and lovers I cared about since then…”

He looks up at you, pleading with you to understand.

“They’re gone,” he says in a voice that’s barely a whisper. “If I don’t remember ‘em… if my life goes on jus’ the same as it did before I lost ‘em… don’t that mean I didn’t actually love ‘em? But I did… I did, darlin’… jus’ like I love you.”

The way he says it makes it abundantly clear: if he thinks he didn’t love all those people, and that he didn’t love you, because he moved on after losing them, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Once again, everything you can think to say seems like a blade to shove and twist in his already gaping wounds.

Ah, damn, he can’t believe he forgot about his sibling! Eh, well, to be fair, he’s pretty sure one of his parents was supposed to take the kid home, weren’t they? Although he could understand his father ‘forgetting’ a child, he can’t imagine his mum not realizing she left without them. While he might be a little frustrated, he still does what has to be done in looking after them until his mum gets there. He’d prefer to just hold their hand; if they insist on being carried, though, he’ll do it. It’s also possible one of his friends may end up holding the kid for a few minutes… at least his friends are trustworthy!

Tsk… he knows this has to be his stepmother’s doing, because his father wouldn’t dream of leaving his sibling behind if he’d known. He’s definitely bitter about it simply for the fact that he already knows the woman is irresponsible; this is just the latest thing. Of course, the last thing he wants is his sibling wandering off into trouble or getting lost. Despite that this shouldn’t have happened, it has, so he’s going to carry them round till one of his parents shows up. Whoever shows up undoubtedly finds him good-naturedly trying to gently wrestle his glasses back from his sibling who’s trying them on.

Oh, dear, what in the world has happened? Tsk, tsk, his poor little sibling, having been forgotten about! He’s not quite sure how it happened, but he’s glad they’re still here and safe. Munching away on something under a table. At least they’re alright, and he can wait for someone to come pick them up and take them home. It’s funny, because, well… even though this is his sibling, Joanne can’t help fawning over them! And Edgar thinks it’s precious, that his friend is willing to assist in looking after the little one. The child is his family, so he’ll carry them for a while… however… if Joanne would like to for a bit, there will be no complaints to be heard.

… Oh. This. Is not good. He doesn’t blame Lizzie for letting it slip her mind to take their sibling with her, of course, it’s just… somebody should have noticed!! He’s quite worked up about it, though he does his very best not to let that cause him to run away with his emotions. This is a problem with a solution, and until that solution comes to pass (until his parents or Lizzie come to pick up the little one), he’ll do what he always does: the right thing. He gladly parades around with his sibling’s hand in his, keeping them occupied by showing them his favorite parts of the university. If he does that, they might not even realize what happened. The fewer tears and tantrums, the better.

Goodness, this is quite the mix-up, isn’t it? Surely it wasn’t on purpose, so he has no ill feelings toward his parents. Things happen. One might assume he’s of a generally negative, poor disposition, but it’s actually not true, and never more obvious than when he’s trying to entertain his sibling. He smiles often whilst he’s holding them, and he never lets them out of his sight. Even when he hands them off to one of his friends for a moment, they’re back in his arms very quickly. Are there things he’d probably rather be doing, like painting? Perhaps. Does he still enjoy getting to spend time with his sibling? Of course. And until one of his parents shows up to collect the little one, he’s going to gladly soak up the extra time with them.

This is… certainly not a good look, for him or his family. He doesn’t really think it’s acceptable that this happened; there’s just nothing he can do about it. All he can do is look after his sibling and try to figure out the best way to keep this from happening again. Although he will be visibly unhappy with his parents when they show up, it’s not because he has to take care of his sibling. He’s actually delighted to get to take care of them… it’s just that he can’t believe his parents overlooked that they were missing a child. Still, he keeps his sibling’s hand firmly in his, marching them around the cricket field in cadences that manage to be both silly and serious. If nothing else, he’s a very good big brother who knows how to make his sibling giggle.

Oh! How unfortunate that in the bustle of everything, his poor little sibling was left behind! Normally his parents would never let that happen, so he knows it was a one-time accident. Plus, he’s positively tickled to get to spend more time with his sibling. He feels a little bad that they were hidden under the table and apparently still hungry with no one noticing! He’s fully prepared to just carry them around to keep them out of trouble, and also because he loves being close to them like that. He’s just so affectionate in general, as long as his sibling will tolerate it he’s overjoyed to cuddle them while walking. His parents will definitely find the two of them in the library, with Joanne eagerly reading one of his favorite (age-appropriate!!) books to his sibling.

Tsk… the mere idea that something like this could happen means he and his family need better ways of keeping track. He has so many sisters, it’s easy for one sibling to get lost in the shuffle. Well, what’s done is done, so he’ll have to think of a way to prevent it from happening again while also looking after his sibling. He does feel lucky to have a while with them that his other siblings don’t get, and although he’s forever unsure how to deal with it, the fact that they cling to him when they’re scared means that something about him comforts them. He’s… glad he can be that for them. The only thing he can do is try to keep them calm, walking around with them. Initial surprise aside, it’s really not so bad at all.

“There we are, that’s it! … Lord, (Name), y’ need t’ tighten up y’r aim a bit, y’ do. That was a bit sloppy.”

You offer a little wince as you turn back to MEY RIN, wondering exactly what she expects of you. This is your first time shooting a gun, after all! “S… sorry, ma’am. I’m trying.”

She nods understandingly. “No, no, I know y’ are. Y’ coulda done a lot worse, all things considered.”

Within only a few seconds, she’s swiftly at your back. Arms around you, she snaps your hands and gun into a slightly different position. She’s been doing this for so long, it must be almost like breathing to her, mustn’t it? You have to wonder how she’s not incredibly frustrated with a newcomer’s abilities.

“C’mere. Let’s see… good. Alright, gimme one more shot an’ we’ll take a li’l breather, alright? Don’t want y’ gettin’ all shaky or nothin’.” She gestures toward the target with her head, then moves to let go so you can shoot on your own. “Pretend that target’s an enemy. Someone what came along t’ do us all harm an’ threaten the master. Y’ don’t ask questions, y’ protect the manor. Shoot ‘em.”

That’s intimidating, but not inaccurate. You don’t want your new life to slip away; you straighten up, take aim, and pull the trigger.

It isn’t long before you move on, with the next person giving you a lesson being BARD.

It seems his preferred method of dealing with intruders is also a gun, just like Mey Rin, although he shows very clearly that he also has a fondness for… well… explosives. He also tells you point-blank that he tends to use guns at closer range than Mey Rin does.

Which you’d lean toward, you don’t even know. All you know is that the recoil from shooting a close-up target is painful. This isn’t something you’d want to do unless your life literally did depend on it.

That said, the explosives aren’t much better. Bard’s gotten very good at controlling the resulting fires, so having you light and throw one toward a target isn’t a problem. The biggest problem is that your hands shake on the matches, leading you to nearly burn yourself.

“That’s alright,” he sighs as he throws water over the last of the embers. “You did jus’ fine, alright? You’re a better shot than you are usin’ fire. So we’ll jus’ make sure you always have a gun nearby.”

“I’m sorry…” You cradle your almost-burnt hand to your chest. “I… suppose it could be worse, right?”

He nods. “That’s right. You’re doin’ fine. C’mon, go take five minutes in the garden with Finny an’ you’ll come back with fresh eyes.”

Off you pop, then.

When you go in the garden to find FINNY and relax for a few minutes, he looks all too happy to see you. It’s as if he was expecting that you’d need a break by this point.

You plop down next to him beneath the tree he’s sitting under, and almost immediately he hands you a freshly picked apple right from one of the branches. He gives you a smile, but doesn’t say anything right away.

The two of you have a snack in silence, then he finally speaks up. “Gets a little intense, don’t it? You don’t gotta worry, though ― from what I seen, you’re doin’ great.”

“Thanks, Finny…” Your shoulders droop a little and you let out a breath. “I just wish it wasn’t so much work. I wish I was just strong, like you, so I wouldn’t have to learn all this.”

He shrugs. “You don’t wanna be strong like me. You’re perfect on your own. It’d be different work, learnin’ how t’ control it, anyway.”

After a moment, he grins at you. “After the break, though, I could show you how t’ distract an intruder. I mean, just ‘cause I don’t use a weapon don’t mean I ain’t got nothin’ t’ teach you!”

… As soon as you finish your apple, you decide to take him up on that.

Because Finny doesn’t want to take up too much of your time, he keeps his lesson short, and shuffles you off to SEBASTIAN shortly afterwards.

The butler is undoubtedly even more intimidating than Mey Rin was when she was teaching you. There isn’t a thing on this estate that escapes Sebastian’s notice unless Ciel specifically orders him to turn a blind eye to something.

That would be worrying enough. He clearly expects you to sharpen your perception the way that he does. He leads you on a veritable tour of the entire estate, attempting (and quite often succeeding) to catch you off guard with attacks that a real enemy would try to use.

If nothing else, like the rest of the staff, Sebastian does take care not to actually hurt you. Well… he bruises your ego a little bit.

“You must keep your eyes a bit more open,” he says, clicking his tongue once you just narrowly avoid falling into the last trap he’s set for you. “If I had been a genuine intruder who got in quietly, you may have fallen to me.”

Still, his face softens when that damned observation of his catches how exhausted you are. It’s obvious he knows how hard you’ve been working. “You have one more day of training ahead of you. For now, what you’ve done will suffice. Go relax, and early to bed with you, because you can be certain you’ll be early to rise tomorrow.”

With one last bow, you trudge down the hallway toward the stairs, intending to head up to the room Ciel has assigned to you near the rest of the servants’.

Before you can get that far, TANAKA stops you. Without so much as word (but with his usual easygoing smile), he ushers you toward the kitchen. You’re bone tired by now, so you follow without any comment.

Once there, he takes a cup from one of the counters and presses it gently into your hands. “Here we are. Something to end your day on a good note ― give you a little soothing after all the effort you’ve been putting in.”

It’s warm against your fingers, the temperature on its own already seeping into all your aches. “O-oh… thank you, Tanaka. I appreciate it… you didn’t have to.”

“No, but you’ll find that the Phantomhive household is rather all about doing things we don’t have to,” he chuckles. “Take the tea up to your room. I’ll be along toward the end of the night to collect it so you don’t need to worry.”

Before you leave, however, he presses something else into your hand: a small blade, concealed within the design of an intricate skeleton key and designed to be flicked open quickly. “And take this, as well. Just in case you happen not to have a gun in reach should something happen. We’re all very proud of you, (Name).”

You give him a brief hug before pocketing the knife and heading up toward your room.

As you open the door to slip inside, the very last thing Ciel said to you echoes in your mind.

You are a Phantomhive servant now, (Name). Never forget that.