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psych3-delic · 15 days

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Forks And Smothered (1/4)

Written for this AU I have been thinking about where Sebastian is contracted to Vincent instead of o!Ciel.

Forks And Smothered Mates are chess terminologies.

In Fork, the Knight is the best-suited piece for attack because it can attack multiple pieces that are more valuable than itself in a single move. A Smothered Mate is the name for a checkmate that occurs when a king is surrounded by their own pieces.

I’m thinking of dividing it into 4 parts: Spring/Summer/Autumn/Winter as Ciel grows up and Sebastian becomes more and more attached to the point of breaking his contract/betraying Vincent for Ciel. The following part is Spring.

Spring/Summer/Autumn/Winter

The boy could feel he was being watched. A moment ago, something had strained the air, like a heaved breath held in too full lungs, then abruptly released, leaving a bone-chilling impression. The room suddenly eerily still. Even the incessant ticking of the father clock had gone mute. He could feel eyes on him – dozens, perhaps hundreds of them, just outside the periphery of his vision, perceiving him at once from every angle. Strange. He remembered entering the room alone, and the door hadn’t once creaked open once since Tanaka delivered his afternoon dose of medicine.

Despite his intuition, the ten-year-old turned his head; toward where the nothingness made his skin crawl and tearing himself from the book he had been emerged in on the carpeted floor.

As if summoned, a gale howled and rushed through an open window, snuffing out candles along the wall. The room plunged into relative darkness. Far darker than it should be this time of afternoon in March. The young boy rubbed his eyes (for the wind had delivered a speck of dust), barely missing the two glowing red dots in the corner.

“Young master,” the abrupt tangibility of a human voice startled the boy. A soundless chuckle was felt more than heard. “You shouldn’t leave your window open like that. You shall have another coughing fit.”

“Ah,” the ten-year-old let out a surprised gasp, followed by a sigh of relief, “Oh, it’s just you, Sebastian.”

Mr. Sebastian was the newest hire of the Phantomhive manor since last December. A Butler, whose arrival had relieved Tanaka of his duty after more than half a century of serving the earldom. It was a good thing, the child thought, for Gramps had obtained a grave injury around that same winter. Tanaka remained on the estate still, but acting as a steward prevented him from having to over-exert himself and worsening his health condition.

In three short months, Mr. Sebastian had taken over the vacant position with ease. He followed the Earl like a shadow and performed his senior staffer duty with such swift efficiency one would be hard-pressed to dismiss. The manservants admired his extensive knowledge of all subjects imaginable. They respected him. The maids fawned. Yet, not much is known about this newcomer.

No one knew from whence the man had come. His hometown, his education, and his previous employment… were one question mark after another. All they knew was that last winter, the Earl had sent his wife and their children away to London to celebrate the twin’s birthday with her relative (who, suffering great loss of her unborn child and husband due to a tragic accident, had remained bed-ridden); uncharacteristically failed to show up for the feast; then, upon the mistress and the children’s return from the townhouse, was found accompanied by this ebony-clad butler.

Funny, they used to have a Borzoi named Sebastian. The day Sebastian the Dog disappeared was also the day Sebastian the Butler showed up.

Gracefully, the butler navigated the litany of toys and plushies littering about and his young master sprawled on the ground to relit the room’s candles. Their warm flickers animated the wallpaper. That done, the man stopped before the window, reaching for its brass handles with pristine gloved hands, intending to close them shut.

"No wait," the boy called out and got onto his feet to halt the action, but he was seized by a violent coughing episode.

The butler looked on confused. To him, his young master’s opposition made no logical sense. Then his keen ears caught sounds of childish laughter beyond the window. At once, realization dawned on him. The corner of his mouth couldn’t help but stretch upward. Humans are indeed such pathetic creatures. Still, he shook his head:

"Looking through the glass panels will have to suffice, young master."

His young master recovered from the hacking fit and passed Sebastian to press his nose and palms onto the clear glass. While the sickly child was still busy gazing forlornly at the garden, at his brother and cousins playing outside no doubt, Sebastian made himself at home and plopped down onto the empty chaise in the center, long legs propping on an armrest while his head pillowing on the other, right next to where his young master had been. Now, slouching would not at all befit his aesthetic of an aristocratic servant, however, that bastard of a Master of his had been one hell of a slave driver to serve. For a Marquis of Hell such as himself to stoop to that level was nothing short of egregious. He began to contemplate that he might have misnegotiated the terms of their contract.

Sebastian leisurely reached out; long arm inhumanly elongated even further to fetch the book abandoned on the carpet. Mother Goose it was, the page opening to "Old King Cole". The noise he let out was a cross between a scoff and a snake’s hissing – awfully disgraceful, but no human would be able to hear him at that frequency. Fate was messing with him. The prose was about serving a demanding monarch.

“Old King Cole was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he; He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl, And he called for his fiddlers three…”

“Sebastian!”

The Butler turned his burning red orbs onto the voice towering above him. He realized his mistake when the boy jumped half a step back, face ashen. So engrossed in his brooding, and letting his guard down around the sick, frail creature, Sebastian had been taken by surprise when the child approached from such a close distance and turned hellfire eyes on him. With a blink, he returned them back to a demure tea color.

“Young master, my apologies,” He stood and bowed, turning to make his leave. How annoying. Master Vincent had made it clear that none was to know about the nature of their covenant. The frightened child would no doubt run crying to his father, and the sadistic bastard would find new and creative ways to torment Sebastian. If only…

Sebastian was taken aback by the tug on his tailcoat.

“Wait!” The young master cried; small hands clutched small round fists on the black fabric. He had his eyes squeezed close fearing repercussions, but his grip was surprisingly strong, “Please stay. I’m sorry I startled you.”

“Young master?” This was the second time Sebastian was made to feel confused that afternoon. Long legs frozen in place. His young master continued:

“I promise I hadn’t meant to play a prank on you. Mom said it’s impolite to play pranks. I merely thought you looked upset and… and… I meant to ask after you…”

The latter half of the sentence was stuttered in apprehension, but explained himself he did. The boy peeked at Sebastian finally, still holding fast onto the end of his coat. Dumbfounded by the turn of events, Sebastian just stared.

“Young master, I had thought I…” scared you, frightened you, terrified you – Sebastian shook his head. Perhaps this sickly child has more boldness and dauntlessness in his bony frame than everyone took him for. Or perhaps, his tiny brain cannot process what he saw. Either way: “I assure you; I do not take offense.”

The frown between his brows relented. Still, the tiny fists refused to let up.

“Really?” The boy tilted his head, his eyes sparkled like fine needles sapphire and round with naivete. Not unlike those earthly felines, Sebastian found. All that was missing was a pair of fluffy ears.

“I tell no lies, young master.” His human mouth curved into an appeasing smile.

“Then…” The boy rocked back onto the ball of his feet, suddenly bashful, like he anticipated rejection, “you will stay?”

Sebastian deliberated. On one hand, he couldn’t care less for the offspring of his master – the weaker of the twins at that; his contract detailed no provision pertaining to the safety nor fulfillment of anyone but his contractor. On the other hand, with the Easter banquet scheduled for the evening, every other room in the estate had been filled either by guests or staff working on preparation. The bustling of the festive party did no favour to his sensitive ears.

“If you insist, my lord,” The butler decided at last. He spun around and got down on one knee, bowing with a palm over where the heart should be in a gesture of mock devotion. Only then was his coattail released. His tiny master appeared mighty pleased, “I shall keep you company. But whatever shall we do, young sir?”

The boy immediately brightened. Unlike his brother, the child was much more socially reserved. It seems his weak constitution contributed to both his not being able to keep up with his peers in physical activities and entertaining guests for any extended amount of time. Such a pathetic, lonely creature. Sebastian could almost taste his soul: too sweet with a tang of bitterness. Perhaps if he could cultivate it, it would make a rather fine snack one day… But alas, he had a bigger fish to fry.

“Are you familiar with chess, Sebastian?” The boy asked.

“Somewhat, sir,” replied the servant humbly, thinking of the various variations of the game he had familiarized across lands and centuries.

“Then, we shall play chess!”

Pattering on tiny legs, his young master made for the board and pieces already set up on the high coffee table. Sebastian followed. He pulled out a chair for his charge, then promptly took the other seat across the boy.

“Very well, young master. But what is a game without consequence? I propose a bet.”

“Uhm… What’s a bet?”

“T’is but a stake to make our game more fascinating. Hmm, let's see… say if you win, I’ll let you have a whole chocolate gateau to yourself tonight?”

As expected, the boy’s eyes lit up at the mention of sweets. Like a hungry cat indeed at a mere hint of food.

“What do you get if you win?”

Sebastian put a slender finger to his chin feigning deep contemplation:

“Oh dear, I must ask you to keep whatever happens in this room today a secret. It wouldn’t do to give His Right Honorable the impression that his new employ is slacking off now, wouldn’t it? I shall be out of a job in no time!”

The boy in front of him giggled:

“Very well, Sebastian! However…” When he once more glanced at his butler, there was a shard of sharpness concealed underneath childish curiosity as he sized Sebastian up: “There is something I want more than cake today. If I win, I want you to show me your eyes again.”

Ah, so the little kitten did see after all. But instead of running into the loving arms of his parents, here he was daring the Devil himself, whether he knew it or not. There was a streak of pride and competitiveness in the tiny creature, too. How fascinating. Sebastian was thoroughly entertained.

“Oh my, does the tiny lord believe he can best me?”

The child snickered again. The sound clear as Musica universalis in his all-hearing ears.

“I’ll have you know only Father and Ciel had managed to beat me before.”

The White rook moved. The game began.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #fic #sebaciel #sebasciel #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive

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