Chapter Text
The Phantomhive Manor was quiet, for once. The servants were tucked away in the folds of the large Manor House, contentedly bustling about with their menial tasks until the inevitable slip up left them frazzled and dreading the scolding they would receive from the butler. Said butler was stalking his way along a corridor, pocket watch clasped in a white gloved hand as he inspected the well polished glass lens of the beautifully crafted time piece. It was just turning twenty-five minutes past three; the young master would soon be expecting his usual afternoon-tea tidbits to satiate his hunger for sweets. The butler tutted to himself half mockingly at his predicament, tending to the every want and whim of a twelve-year old boy, burdened with the great destiny of his family name as well as the duty to avenge their great and terrible murder from only a few years prior.
'Cake and tea first,' the butler thought to himself, bemused. 'Vengeance after.' Whenever that would be. Only Sebastian alone was concerned about his own hunger, the pang that lay crouched and rumbling within the very darkest recesses of his being like a starved beast waiting to pounce at the first signs of sustenance. But he had tamed that beast, the ravenous craving within him. Patience was his virtue and the tasty morsel that was the young boy's soul only grew more appetising by the day. Sebastian could wait for his supper. His master however, would become cranky and rather despondent if he wasn't served a pastry or biscuit within the next five minutes. 'Humans succumb so easily to their needs,' Sebastian mused, snapping his pocket watch shut with only the smallest of flourishes, stowing it away safely in the reassess of his pitch black tailcoat.
Towards the kitchen he strode, his dark form cutting through the corridors of the manor with an almost inhuman swiftness- almost. He had just reached the door that would have lead him down a back passage to the servant's quarters which then led on to the kitchen, one of many hidden passages that snaked through the manor like a complex maze. He prided himself on knowing every secret there was to know about this place. There was not even a scuff in the floorboards that he wasn't aware of, and in fact there were none to speak of at this moment in time. He had made sure of that. A few years of playing butler and he had become quite accustomed to the roll, falling into the duties of head of the serving household like a duck to water. With elegance, efficiency and pride he ran the Phantomhive household like a well oiled machine, that is, when the other servants weren't undoing every good bit of work he had toiled over. The manor was suspiciously quiet for once, he noted. Something would inevitably shake the peace, and soon, he just knew it.
The chime of the doorbells clanged musically from the main hall.
'As I suspected,' Sebastian thought, removing his hand from the door handle he had just held in his grasp. 'Although, we shouldn't be expecting guests today.' As relieved as he was that the quiet hadn't been punctured by the shrieks of Meyrin, the clumsy maid, the sobs of Finnian, the rambunctious gardener, or the stuttered words of defence from Baldroy, the pyro-inclined cook, the thought of an unknown stranger stood at the doorstep didn't ease his trepidations.
He was in the main hall in moments, polished black shoes hardly making a whisper of noise as he made his way across the polished marble floors towards the looming front door of the manor. He could make out the sound of carriage horses and wheels trundling down the gravel driveway of the manor; either the stranger had lost their nerve after making their presence known and had made a quick getaway, or whoever stood outside was expecting to stay a while and had sent their cab off to wherever it had been hailed. Sebastian rested his hand momentarily on the door knob as he mulled on every possibility that stretched before him in that moment, but shook those thoughts away and opened the door. He would deal with this quickly and return to today's schedule; there were still a few minutes left for him to make it to his master in time with tea and sweets in tow.
A young woman stood a polite distance from the door as he opened it, two large but well looked after traveling suitcases placed either side of her. Except, she wasn't dressed as a young woman at all. Her dark lacquer brown hair was neatly braided and tied with an elegant bow at the end, resting on the one shoulder as the crown of her head was hidden beneath a practical top hat. A neatly pressed shirt and cravat were just visible beneath the dark lapels of a fine, if a little worn, wool coat that fended off the crisp lashing winds of early spring. Even though the coat was long and tailored to fit the strong contours of the broad shoulders expected of a male figure, it was clear that she was wearing trousers, a neat fold carefully pressed down the length of each leg as was the fashion at the moment for the gentleman of the Great British Empire, a pair of neatly polished black shoes poking out from the unsullied hems. Despite the completely masculine appearance this ensemble gave, it did not defeat the fact that her face was somewhat lacking a masculine edge, although she did have a modest set of sideburns framing each of her pierced ears which were notably missing earrings at this time. Sebastian supposed that the everyday person may not give a second glance to this figure being a British gentleman, but to his sharp demon eyes there was no mistaking that this woman was disguised as a man. And despite all this, she chose to present herself as such a second or so after Sebastian opened the door to greet her.
"Good afternoon. My sincerest apologies for calling on you without so much as a warning, but I do hope you excuse it for the fact that I have only just arrived back in England a few hours ago. I caught a cab from the docks and took it straight here." She paused to remove the hat from her head, holding it affably in front of her with clasped hands as she met Sebastian's maroon eyes with her near luminous green ones without a falter. "My name is Morgana Peregrine. I used to work here for the Phantomhive household. I wonder if I might be able to talk to the Lord and Lady of the house?" She spoke with clarity and confidence, as if she had rehearsed the words many times over in the cab ride here. Her eyes only flickered for a moment to the lapel of Sebastian's tailcoat, where the silver pin marking him as the head butler of the household sat gleaming modestly.
Sebastian's outward expression didn't lend a single hint as to the flood of thoughts that came rushing to his mind in a sort of tsunami of question marks. A servant of the previous Phantomhive household? From what he knew, everyone had been killed the night the previous Lord Phantomhive and his wife had been slaughtered in their beds and their heir had been dragged to the deepest and darkest confines of the underworld where only the depraved and wicked fingers of a creature of hell could hope of finding him. Only the young master and old man Tanaka, the previous butler of the manor, had survived the brutal attack. Sebastian had never heard of another having survived the ambush or the fire that had ravished the manor to ruins moments after.
"Might I ask what business you have here?" Sebastian asked, not impolitely, but he didn't make to move out of the doorway, firmly barring the woman from even thinking of stepping a foot in. It wasn't uncommon for assassins or hitmen to attempt to slither their way into the manor with poorly disguised lies and false connections. 'Have we resorted to hiring poorly educated women to get the job done?' Sebastian mulled to himself. 'This poor thing can't even keep her story straight, dressed as a man but with a female title. I almost want to let her try her best shot at getting to the young master. Almost.'
The young lady let out a short breath, almost as if she had expected to meet such reluctance at being allowed in to meet her old masters. "I really am sorry for inconveniencing you," she started, but rather than donning her hat and making to retrieve her luggage to make the long journey back, presumably to London, she only planted her feet into the ground more firmly. "I'm afraid there is too much to explain just now to you. I know it's an imposition, but I really must speak to the Lord and Lady Phantomhive. They would wish to see me, I promise you," she said earnestly, meeting Sebastian boldly in the eye as if it were he god given right to meet with a Lord and Lady seemingly well above her station. "I'll wait here, gladly," she added, unperturbed by the butler's unchanging facial expression. "Just tell them that Morgana Peregrine is here to see them. They'll know who I am and send for me, I know it."
Sebastian fought back the urge to scoff at this little lady's boldness. To turn up uninvited on the manor doorstep and demand an audience with the head of the household. He hadn't missed the fact that she was hoping to meet with the now deceased former Lord and Lady Phantomhive. If she had truly been a former member of staff of this manor, surely she would be aware of the fact that they were no longer within the manor but were in fact buried a few hundred yards away in the family cemetery, or the ashes that had remained of them at least. He was tempted to guide her to said cemetery if she was indeed so desperate to see them, but in the end he thought that would be needlessly cruel, although amusing nonetheless.
"My apologies, miss Peregrine," Sebastian bowed his head in mock apology, although he meant for it to come across as sincere. He may have been dealing with an escaped member of a mental institution, but that didn't mean he would allow himself as a servant of the Phantomhive name to come across as impolite or dismissive. "But there is nothing I can do for you I'm afraid. My master is somewhat indisposed for the foreseeable future." An absolute lie; his schedule was near empty for the next few days, but she wasn't to know that. "Might I suggest you try calling in the future to arrange a meeting." His courteous suggestion was unhelpful seeing as he would absolutely not be giving her the telephone number to the manor if she asked for it. He doubted she would even find access to a rare telephone anyway. "Have a pleasant day," he bowed from the hips slightly, offering his close-eyed smile that so often got him out of situations that displeased him, and made to close the door.
"No, wait. Please!" The young woman cried in protest, for the first time losing her cool composure and seeming somewhat manic at the prospect of being shut out. "Please, I must see the Lord Phantomhive!"
"Sebastian, what is this?" A stern voice came from the sweeping staircase of the grand hall. Sebastian had only a crack of the door left to close when the voice of his master had stopped him in his tracks. Even in his custom heeled shoes, the young lord had managed to sneak up on his butler. Sebastian would have almost been proud of his master's slyness if he wasn't equally disturbed by how dull his senses must have become to allow it. 'That is a rather concerning issue' he thought to himself. His awareness must never become dull. He would have to find out the cause of this and resolve it in some way shortly.
Sebastian turned to meet his master front on with a sweet smile, but his hand kept its firm grip on the door, well aware that the young woman was still poised outside, waiting. "My Lord?" He feigned innocence, hoping that his young master hadn't caught on to the fact that there was an intruder at the door. "My apologies for the lateness of your afternoon tea. I will bring it to you shortly," he said, making to close the door once and for all, but as he made to push the door the last few inches, he found that the toe of the woman's shoe had been wedged in the gap to keep it from closing. The cheek of it!
"Who's at the door, Sebastian?" Ciel Phantomhive demanded, unwilling to play along with the demon butler's games. "Open the door properly before you crush their foot. That's really no way to treat a guest on the Phantomhive estate," the boy chastised, knowing that this would make the butler whither with annoyance inside. "That's an order," he added for good measure; the demonic contract between them meant that Sebastian couldn't so much as put a foot out of line against him once he had uttered his request.
Sebastian's face remained well mannered and tranquil despite the slither of irritation that pinched within him, but he did as he was commanded, as he must always do, and revealed the near unsightly appearance of the unannounced visitor.
Just as he had expected, Sebastian watched his master's face twist into an expression of alarm at the sight of the crossdresser at the door. When would his master learn that he always had his best interests at heart? His subdued smugness was quickly erased when Sebastian picked up on the gleam of recognition that glistened like a pearl in the boy's wide blue eye, the other obscured by an eyepatch that hid his demonic contract seal from casual observation. Sebastian held back a judder of surprise when his master's voice let out a cracked note of disbelief. "Morgana?"
"Master Ciel," the woman's gasp of surprise was just as breathless as the young boy's. Sebastian took a step away from the door, uncomfortable interrupting the gaze that was now strung taught between the guest and his Lord Phantomhive. The young lady's hands shook on her clasp on the hat, wringing the brim between her fingers in angst at the sight of the boy she hand't laid eyes on for almost three years. Her initial shock was soon swept away as a bubbling excitement spilled out of her. She swept up her suitcases in hand as she boldly stepped across the mantle and officially set foot in the grand hall of the Phantomhive Manor.
"It's been so long," she uttered, drinking in the sight of the boy as if she had been starved of every detail of him. "You've grown! That's good. Didn't I tell you you would," she laughed a little as she took in the sight of him dressed so maturely. He had been a child the last time she had seen him, and yes he was still a child but there was something changed about him. A maturity that she could pick up on but not quite place. She noted the eyepatch that obscured a good portion of his face, but disregarded it quickly. He had always struggled with his health since the day she had first known him. It was an unfortunate but inevitable outcome that he should come across some physical ailment as he grew.
"It's so good to see you, child," she continued, unperturbed by the stunned silence ebbing from the boy as he stood stock still on the staircase. "Are your Lord father and mother here? It's just gone tea time so I expect they should be in the drawing room. I have so much to tell you all! Come, let us go find th-"
"Where have you been all these years?" Ciel interrupted, not caring if his interruption was rude. "All these years, we thought you were..." he trailed off at the end, as if he couldn't bear to finish his own sentence.
The young lady's sudden burst of energy subdued somewhat as she recognised the look of mixed wonder and shock in the boy's eye. "Dead?" she finished for him, scoffing slightly at the word as though the thought of it amused her. "You know my history with death, young master, and how it eludes me." She spoke as if she and the young lord were in on some secret joke, one that only the two of them shared. Only, Ciel didn't care for jokes at this moment in time.
"The ship returning you from France," Ciel spoke firmly, staring down the woman from the slight incline of height he stood at. "It was sunk in a storm at sea. There were no survivors. You were marked as being on that ship." His sentences were short and curt, punching the facts out like lines written on a typewriter.
"I was supposed to be on that ship, yes," she admitted somewhat reluctantly. "I was on it moments before it departed, but I secretly disembarked." She revealed this as if she were somewhat ashamed of what she was confessing. "Two years ago that ship left for England without me. And two years ago it sank without me." The sinking had been a great tragedy at the time, a few dozen noble names having been lost to the tumultuous depths of the ocean. Ciel remembered how desperately his parents had sought for information on Morgana's whereabouts after news reached London of the ship that never docked at its harbours. The ship had been confirmed to have been sunk at sea, having set course against the advice of many as a terrible storm had been seen to be rolling in. The captain had ignored all protests, resulting in the condemnation of the lives of his crew, passengers and his own to a watery grave. The Phantomhives had been informed that Morgana Peregrine had been one of those to have lost their lives.
"There is much to tell you," she reiterated, her voice coaxingly gentle as she watched her explanation settle on Ciel's mind like a veil of unfathomable truth. "I promise, I will tell you all of it," Morgana said earnestly. She gently placed her suitcases on the floor once more and took a step forward, offering out a hand for the boy to take.
Ciel was ripped from his whirring thoughts at the sight of her outstretched hand, the hand he had taken so often when he was younger. The hand that had coaxed him, petted him, reprimanded him and guided him all those years ago, when he was a different him. A version of himself he no longer recognised and barely remembered. But now, as she stood before him, so many memories came flooding back to him against his will. Painful, beautiful memories he had long since buried along with the ash filled coffins of his parents. Here stood a fragment of his past that he had once thought lost to him forever, now reaching out to clasp at his hand. Subconsciously, he twisted the ring on his thumb that had once belonged to his father, the deep blue stone reminding him of the person he had left behind; the boy that Morgana thought she had returned to.
"They're dead," he said bluntly, staring her dead in the eye as he said it. He took no pleasure in watching her hand falter in the air and then slowly return to her side, shaking. "Killed," he uttered, letting the harsh sound of the 'k' cut through the air like a knife. "The manor was set ablaze. They meant to end the Phantomhive name and all that it stood for. I am all that survives of that name." Morgana could only blink in a stupor as she took in his words; it was her turn to have her world rocked by the revelations of a mystery unveiled.
Sebastian stood a spectator to this cumbersome reunion. So little had been said and yet so many questions had been raised and he was none the wiser. He was ever aware of how closed-off his master was about his past, the life he had been robbed of and now hoped to leave behind in search of his vengeance. But there was a connection between his master and this woman he could not shake as being uncanny. He had studied his master thoroughly as he had taken in the sight of this once-thought deceased woman, and had picked up on the slightest nuance of longing. Yes, for the smallest fraction of a second, Sebastian had recognised that the young Lord Phantomhive had wanted nothing more than to meet the hand of this miss Morgana Peregrine, to latch onto it and never let it escape him again. The only longing he had known his master to have since they had met in the blood soaked confines of a torture chamber was the unyielding desire for revenge.
Ciel averted his gaze from the sight of a slightly trembling Morgana as he composed himself, keenly aware of Sebastian's ever watchful gaze analysing his every move and expression. 'This changes nothing,' he tried to convince himself, swallowing the emotion that had threatened to well up in his throat. He turned his attention back on Morgana, who was staring up at him with that look of suppressed mourning and pity he could not stand. He cocked a smile he knew she had often been susceptible to when she had known him years ago, and spoke in a half joking tone, "It would seem you are not the only one capable of eluding death."