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tothelasthoursofmylife · 7 years ago

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Bonus: The Siblings, Partners

I AM DOOOOOONE.

First of all: Sorry that it's late. This was supposed to be a special for Cloudia's 151st death day after all. Actually, this bonus was done on July 13, but I didn't have time to revise it because I had to go somewhere. In the end, even if I had taken my laptop with me, I wouldn't have been able to finish this on time because the revision took WAY longer than anticipated. That's why I am two days late.

But, nevertheless, I am done now - and I hope you'll enjoy this one-shot which got far too long.

“Everyone grieved differently.”

Countryside, England, United Kingdom – August 1866

The manor felt empty.

That’s what he thought every morning right after waking up. That’s what he thought while walking through the corridors and when he went to sleep at night.

The thought was with him every second of the day.

It planted sadness in his heart, made his limbs tired, caused him to lean against a wall and just stare ahead.

Vincent Phantomhive had not cried when he had found out. Had not cried when they had been buried or when he had walked towards the Queen on his decoration day.

The tears did not come when they ate alone or walked through the manor void of joy – and he wondered if he had always been so cold.

The probability that such a tragedy could happen – the death of one parent, and, shortly afterwards, the death of the other – was so small. How could it have happened to us? Why had it had to happen to us?

“Young Master?”

Vincent blinked and turned around to the source of the voice. He had not even noticed that he had drifted away again.

“Yes, Tanaka?”

Tanaka Warashi was the Phantomhive family’s head butler. Vincent’s mother Cloudia had employed him after he had come all the way to England from Japan to steal something from her. He had challenged her to a sword duel and had lost – and because Vincent’s parents had needed a butler at that time, they had hired him. Tanaka had accepted his faith as Cloudia had impressed him and as he had been rather thankful not to have to be a thief anymore.

“Mr Redbird has arrived, and he as well as Lady Francis is waiting in the drawing room right now,” Tanaka informed Vincent who nodded at his words and followed him.

At the beginning of August, I had been officially made the “Earl of Phantomhive” and Her Majesty the Queen’s Watchdog. One week ago, I had received my first task with an apology as it had come rather soon and we were still mourning. Redbird would inform me about the details of said task as he, an officer of Scotland Yard, had been concerned with said task before it had become a Watchdog matter.

Tanaka had told me that it would be fine if I declined – the time wasn’t the best, and the Queen would understand. Francis had been thinking the same but hadn’t wanted to voice it.

I had still accepted the task. I knew that Tanaka was right – that it wouldn’t have harmed my new status, wouldn’t have tainted the Queen’s favour, but I needed the distraction.

***

Vincent followed Tanaka to the drawing room whose door was opened by one other servant. Just like the rest of the small household, they were still in mourning clothes. And they would be for another eleven months.

Eleven months of continued blackness. And afterwards, nothing would return to its old colour.

Francis sat at a small round table in the middle of the parlour. With her was a man with dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin. He was wearing long clothes matching his hair and eye colour even though it was summer. A summer in England didn’t mean much – there was always rain; you couldn’t escape the rain –, but, even in England, the temperatures could reach rather high numbers during the summer. Today was one of those hot days.

If he was mocking us with his attire, he would be out of the Phantomhive premises faster than a star could fall.

The two servants who had been standing in the corners of the drawing room bowed at Vincent when he entered before leaving and closing the door behind them. Now, only the man, the siblings, and Tanaka were in the room.

The man stood up from his seat and bowed. “Ruadh-Éan Redbird – it is such a pleasure to be able to meet you, Earl of Phantomhive; and I offer you my condolences for the sudden and early passing of your parents.” While he spoke, he gestured a lot with his hands, and Vincent could see something metallic shimmering on the ring finger of his right hand.

“I am also pleased to meet you, Mr Redbird,” Vincent said, sitting down. “I apologise for my tardiness. I forgot the time.”

Redbird sat back down. “You do not have to apologise, Mylord. You are a busy man, and it is an honour that you agreed to give me some of your precious time. Besides, it was a pleasure to converse with your dear sister for a while.”

Vincent gazed at Francis – and the look in her eyes told him that their conversation had not been as much of a pleasure to her as it had been to him.

“Speaking of Lady Phantomhive,” Redbird continued to speak. “I do not want to sound rude but should she not leave the room? What we have to discuss is certainly not suitable for the ears of a young lady, Mylord.”

If Francis wasn’t the epitome of self-control, she would have scowled and yelled. Vincent, however, had never been as dignified as his sister.

Lately, I was tired all the time, but I would gladly wake up for that.

“My sister has won countless fencing tournaments,” Vincent said, a shadow in his eyes. “As the only girl, she faced many boys and men – and never came off second best. And even though the probability that she would ever become the Watchdog was almost non-existent, she learned alongside me. My sister may be a lady, but she is certainly not a fragile daisy, and I don’t have to speak for her – she has an own voice which she can use. It is just that she doesn’t want to be a bad host and brag and talk you to the ground. I will never be as much of a good person as her – if I find the opportunity to brag about Francis, I will – because she is wonderful. If I have to talk someone to the ground, I will talk this person to Earth’s core. Do you want me to talk you to the ground, Mr Redbird?”

Redbird swallowed. “No, Mylord.”

“Then, Francis will stay – and if you treat her as less than she is again, I will not be friendly anymore, Mr Redbird. Personally, I would chase you out of the manor and this forest and let the chair be burned on which you are sitting. No – not the chair. The chair is innocent. I would chase you, and if I found you, I would burn you.”

He slowly nodded, having lost all colour from his face, but he couldn’t hide the disgust in his eyes.

Mother would have hated him. Father was not a person to hate a lot of people, but he would have hated Redbird.

And I hated him too. I hated and despised him.

Vincent smiled. “If that’s settled, then we can finally come to business.”

***

“You came to us because you assume that Brent Reservoir is haunted?” Francis said sceptically, raising an eyebrow.

“I am not assuming it,” Redbird replied, “I am certain of it.”

The Brent Reservoir was a reservoir between the London Boroughs of Barnet and Brent. Its construction had been planned since 1803, but because of various obstacles, it couldn’t be completed before 1835. Afterwards, the reservoir had to struggle with even more difficulties.

Among the common folk, the reservoir was known as “Welsh Harp” after the Old Welsh Harp Tavern which was located in Edgware Road near Brent. Said tavern was the primary reason why the reservoir had become a place of evening entertainment in the first place despite the fact that only a couple of months before its completion and during its first years, many people had drowned in it.

“I am sure that we all know what occurred at Brent Reservoir,” Vincent interjected, propping his elbows on the table and interlocking his fingers. “And I don’t want to sound unprofessional, and I don’t mean to ridicule you, but I think the same as my sister. There are no such things as ghosts. There are no such things as demons or Grim Reapers either.”

“I know that it sounds unbelievable,” Redbird admitted, “but what am I saying is true. The area around Welsh Harp was always very lively but since a few weeks, the Old Welsh Harp Tavern is closed, and no one can be seen around it. The inhabitants of Brent and Barnet are collectively avoiding the reservoir. I was confused by that sudden development and began to ask those who live close to Welsh Harp about it. It took me a while until I found someone who was willing to speak. He entrusted me that the reservoir was haunted by no other ghosts than the ones of the four Sidebottom brothers. Due to Welsh Harp’s former popularity, the Queen is concerned about this development.”

“August 1835,” Francis said, arms crossed in front of her chest. “Four brothers, the eldest being thirty-one and the younger three aged between eleven and seventeen years old, entered the construction area of Brent Reservoir to bath. The eldest watched over his siblings and died himself when he tried to save them when they had been about to drown. It isn’t known how exactly it had come to this tragedy – neither the reason for the brothers to bath at a construction area nor the reason why it had come to the drowning accident had ever been found out.” She looked at Redbird, her green eyes sharp. “Eight years ago, in 1858, a man called W.P. Warner became the owner of the Old Welsh Harp Tavern, and the reservoir rapidly became more and more popular. Do you intend to say that the ghosts of these four brothers returned because their ‘last resting place’ was constantly disturbed? But why only now? Eight years have already passed – why would they come back only now? Why would they come back at all? They had been buried in their home, Mount Pleasant, after all.”

“I asked myself the same questions,” Redbird claimed. Ever since Vincent had threatened him earlier, Redbird paid more attention to Francis. He still didn’t like him, but, at least, he didn’t avoid her gaze anymore. “I couldn’t find out anything about it though.”

“The man or the boy,” Vincent started, “the one who told you about the ghosts – what is his name? Where can we find him? It would be helpful to speak with him again. He could know more than he said to you. It is always better to press people to make sure that they didn’t withhold something from you.”

“And perhaps he knows more persons who have seen the ghost and who would be willing to speak to us,” Francis added.

Redbird smiled. “In fact, I have arranged a meeting with Mr Paul Heffer at Welsh Harp. I couldn’t bring him with me as it would have been rude because I had missed announcing his presence beforehand.”

I did not like this man. But, he was able to use his brain. At least, a little bit.

Also, the name “Paul Heffer” sounded rather familiar to me, but I couldn’t remember where I had heard it before. But, of course, just because this name seemed familiar didn’t mean that it was the same person. After all, there were definitely more people named “Paul Heffer” in the world.

Vincent clapped his hands together and smiled. “Very well. It is a long way to Brent, so it would be better if we left right now.” He stood up and looked at Tanaka. “Tanaka, would you be so kind and prepare the carriage?”

When Franny and I had been very young, we had a lot of different servants. But, nowadays, we only had Tanaka, a cook, a footman, a gardener, and two maids. At some point, Mother and Father had dismissed rows of servants and had only hired replacements for a few of them. Franny and I had been sad about this change, but, at least, our parents had kept Tanaka. Until now, I wondered why they had done that.

And now, I would never find out.

Tanaka bowed before leaving the room, and Vincent walked around the table and playfully offered Francis his arm. She scowled at him, but still linked arms, and Redbird followed them into the corridor.

“I hope you understand, Mr Redbird,” Vincent said, “that, rationally thinking, that it is very likely that what Mr Heffer and, maybe, other people saw was nothing more than a fever dream caused by too much alcohol or drugs. After all, Brent Reservoir is a gathering place of those frequenting Old Welsh Harps Tavern – it is the Eldorado of Dionysus’ favourites.”

Francis rolled her eyes when Redbird didn’t look into her direction but focused his eyes on the paintings and other decorative articles in the corridor.

“You know that Dionysus isn’t the drunkard most people believe him to be – in fact, his teacher, Silenus, was the drunkard. Not him,” Francis replied. “Silenus is the god of drunkenness after all. Dionysus, however, is the god of wine, grape harvest, religious ecstasy, fertility, and theatre among other things.

“And I have to add that the metaphor you have used, Vincent, is more fitting than you might have thought when it had come to your mind: The cult of Dionysus is also called the ‘Cult of Souls’ as Dionysus possesses the ability to communicate between the living and the dead. And if what Heffer and Redbird say is true, Brent Reservoir is a place where the dead and the living are colliding.”

Vincent smiled at Redbird. “Didn’t I say she’s brilliant?”

His guest slowly nodded before he looked at Francis. “This reminds me, Mylady, that ever since the Earl mentioned your talent in fencing that I wanted to go further into this topic, but didn’t get the opportunity to do so. So, I will ask now: Why did someone like you start engaging in such a, for ladies, unusual activity?”

“The late Countess, our mother, Cloudia Phantomhive, encouraged me to start fencing,” Francis answered him. “She as well as our father knew how to fence, how to use a sword. It is something of a Phantomhive family tradition that every member regardless of gender learns to fence beginning at age six. I learned alongside Vincent under the guidance of our parents. To us, this was nothing unusual at all.”

“Interesting,” Redbird said. “Does this mean that you have a separate room for fencing training?”

She nodded. “Yes. Almost all our swords and epées and rapiers are displayed there too.”

Redbird stroked his chin-beard. “Truly, truly fascinating,” he mumbled.

“You intentionally did that mistake about Dionysus earlier to be able to say ‘Didn’t I say she’s brilliant’ and grin like an idiot, right?” Francis whispered to Vincent with a scowl on her face when Redbird was looking around the corridor again. Vincent only smiled at her.

After our parents’ death, Francis couldn’t stop crying for a very long time. In-between, there had been short periods of time when her tears had been able to dry before she started crying again.

When she had burst out into tears as soon as I had stepped over the entrance’s door sill after hurrying to the manor from Weston College, I had been shocked – in my world, Franny was the stronger one out of us. In my world, Francis Phantomhive never shed a tear.

We had slept in the same bed for two weeks because none of us had wanted to stay alone at night. One night, after Francis had exhausted herself from crying and fallen asleep, I had held her hand and stared into the darkness, unable to find sleep myself, and realised that, perhaps, you weren’t weak when you cried. That crying wasn’t a sign of weakness but strength – because only the truly strong could face what caused them sadness and allow themselves to cry.

Perhaps, I had never been wrong with my assumption that Francis was the stronger one out of us.

***

Vincent and Francis waited with Redbird outside in the courtyard for Tanaka to drive up with the carriage when Vincent noticed a man hammering against the manor’s gate. He walked towards him, and Francis followed him. None of them cared if Redbird came too – and he didn’t.

“What is wrong?” Vincent asked when he opened the gate for the man who was trying to catch his breath. He was rather young with fair hair and a ridiculous taste in clothes. Without taking a look, Vincent knew very well that Francis was glaring at the man because of that. He had to suppress a smile.

Furthermore, Vincent remembered that he had seen this man before – he would never forget a man who clothed himself like that. His name was Ash Pocher, and he lived in St Lacey, the little town closest to Phantomhive Manor and which stood under the Phantomhive family’s patronage. Despite being a simple shepherd, Ash liked to think of himself as a prince.

“What is wrong, Ash?” Vincent repeated, and Ash leaned against the gate.

“A woman,” Ash struggled to say. Even now, he didn’t forget to hold his chin high. “I was wandering through the forest when I saw a woman lying on the ground. I approached her and saw that she was unconscious and injured. I was afraid that I could make it worse by moving her – that’s why I left her there. But I know how to get back to her. I hurried to you, Mylord, as fast as I could because the manor was closer than St Lacey.”

What he wanted to say was that he didn’t carry her to the manor like a true gentleman and left her in the woods because he didn’t want to stain his shirt.

Tanaka had arrived with the carriage, and Vincent saw him approaching them from the corner of his eye. Vincent turned to Francis. “Fran, I want you to get a few servants and go with Ash to this woman. Bring her to the manor and send someone to get a physician.”

Francis shook her head. “I will not stay behind while you and Tanaka go with Redbird.”

“Please, Franny, that’s a life we are talking about.”

“Then, let’s not talk about it any longer: I will come with you, and you inform a servant about the woman and instruct him or her.”

“We all cannot just go when there’s an injured guest in the manor, Francis.”

“According to Ash, she’s unconscious – she won’t notice it anyway.”

Vincent ran a hand through his hair. “I need someone to welcome the physician.”

“What about the other servants?”

“I need someone I trust.”

“You don’t trust your own servants?”

“You know what I mean, Francis. I…” Vincent took a deep breath.

“What happened, Young Master, Lady Francis?” Tanaka asked when he reached them.

“Ash found an injured woman in the forest. I told Francis to stay here and help her while we go with Redbird to Brent.”

“And I told him that I would accompany him to London,” Francis added. “I cannot let him do this alone.”

“Young Master, if you allow it, I will stay behind and do my best to look after and help the woman,” Tanaka said without hesitation.

Vincent’s eyes widened, and Francis looked rather surprised at his suggestion too. “Tanaka – I need you by my side. You are my butler,” Vincent replied.

“I’ve accompanied your predecessor on only a handful of missions; you do not need me by your side, Young Master.”

“But it’s my first task…”

“And I know that the two of you will be able to handle this wonderfully on your own. I am afraid, Young Master, but time is running away from us – a woman is dying in this very moment.”

Vincent bit his lips and sighed. “Very well. Francis and I will go.”

“All will go well,” Tanaka meant. “The two of you will be fine – I know that, and the Mistress and the Master knew this even better than me.”

***

They spent the three-hours carriage ride to the reservoir in silence – and Vincent was grateful for it. He didn’t feel like talking and only looked out of the window, seeing the landscape passing by.

I didn’t want for the carriage to stop, for the ride to end – I wanted to continue seeing the landscape change outside and think of nothing.

I wanted to look out of the window and see the colours blend and forget all the pain, all the sadness of the past month. At least, for a while.

This was my first official task as the Queen’s Watchdog, and I needed to focus, but I found myself unable to clear my mind – my thoughts spun in my head and I couldn’t concentrate on anything else but my parents.

I thought about their deaths, I thought about the time they had been alive.

I thought about all they had taught me – I couldn’t disappoint them today. I wanted them to be proud of me even after death.

***

Paul Heffer was all Vincent had expected him to be. He was not very ugly, was not very beautiful either. He did not smell, but he did not seem to be very clean too. Neither tall nor small; neither intelligent nor dumb. Paul Heffer would have been terribly average if there wasn’t that slight sharpness shining in his eyes.

I was certain that I had heard his name somewhere before, but I had never seen this man.

“Mylord, may I introduce you to Mr Paul Heffer?” Redbird said, gesticulating with his hands. “Heffer, may I introduce you to the Earl of Phantomhive? And his sister, Lady Francis Phantomhive?”

Brent Reservoir was just as deserted as Redbird had told Vincent and Francis. The nature of the big reservoir’s shore grew wild and green, the ground seemed to have been dug over, and there weren’t any marks of people to be seen. There were hardly any houses in the area of the reservoir, and Old Welsh Harp Tavern was still closed which meant that Vincent, Francis, Redbird, and Heffer were the only people around. It was so oddly silent for London that Vincent could even hear the quacking of the ducks who swam in quite a distance from the shore where he stood with the others.

“A pleasure, Mylord, Mylady,” Heffer said and bowed in front of them.

“We gladly return the pleasure, Mr Heffer,” Vincent said, and Francis nodded politely at his words.

“Mr Redbird told us that you had seen a ghost in this area. Can you elaborate a bit on it?”

“I haven’t seen a ghost,” Heffer replied. “I’ve seen a group of ghosts. The Sidebottom boys.”

“There is no proof that they are the ghosts of the Sidebottom brothers,” said Vincent. “Or that, well, there are ghosts here at all.”

Heffer looked at him as if he was an idiot. Vincent would have loved to kick him in the shin but knew that he shouldn’t do it now. Perhaps later. “Bo – pardon me – Mylord, there were four ghosts. Four Sidebottoms died in the reservoir. It matches. Just like it matches with the fact that there isn’t a soul except us here.”

“You have just contradicted yourself, Mr Heffer,” Francis interjected. “You claim to have seen four ghosts, but now you have said that no other soul except those of ours are here. Ghosts, however, are often seen as ‘the souls of those who have left their dead body but couldn’t carry on to Hell or Heaven and have to stay in the mortal world.’ I hope you didn’t count us as the ghosts of the Sidebottom brothers? Just because we are four and standing by the reservoir? That would be highly ridiculous as the four of us are neither brothers, are ‘souls with no bodies’ nor we are so foolish to die by bathing in a restricted construction area – well, at least, Vincent and me, and to some extent Mr Redbird.”

Francis had heard comments about her gender and her “untypical” activities for years now – that’s why she had learned to be calmer and more patient when it came to this topic and not to let the words of others affect her.

However, her self-control was almost non-existent when it came to different matters – for example, the claim that ghosts existed.

Heffer narrowed his eyes. “What’s the little girl doing here?”

If he kept on being such a nuisance, he would quickly become a “soul with no body.”

“The ‘little girl’ has a name,” Francis replied, slightly narrowing her eyes. “Her name is Lady Francis Phantomhive, and it would be wonderful if you could remember this. Furthermore, I am barely younger than my brother – and if you seem to have no problem with calling me a ‘little girl,’ then why aren’t you consisted and call my brother the Earl ‘little boy’?”

Vincent stepped forward. “Mr Heffer,” he said to try bringing the situation under his control, “where exactly did you claim to have seen the ghosts? And do you know of other people who saw them as well?”

***

I had always liked boating – liked the pitching and tossing, liked the feeling of having no firm ground under my feet. And when I lay down and looked up, there was blue above and underneath me.

When I was out on the water, I could forget all the troubles on the land.

Francis, however, had never been a boating enthusiast like me.

“Can we please return? We will not find anything – it is ridiculous to keep on going,” Francis said to Vincent, glancing at the small waves which were produced due to the boat’s movement.

“We wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t provoked Mr Heffer,” Vincent replied.

My try to control the situation and prevent the argument between Francis and Heffer to turn into a feud had backfired when Heffer had said that he had seen the ghosts when he had been out alone on the water, and Francis had commented that it was rather “convenient” that no one but him had seen the ghosts.

Their argument had ended with Heffer making us get on a boat and put out to the reservoir so that he could show us the ghosts.

Quite a while had passed, and we still hadn’t encountered any ghosts though.

“This is silly, Vincent,” Francis said, crossing her arms in front of her chest and glaring at Heffer. “We will never find anything. It’s all in vain. You should tell Mr Redbird and the Queen that you cannot investigate this case because there is no case. It is more likely that W. P. Warner either closed his tavern for some reason and that’s why people don’t come here anymore – after all, the tavern seems to be the only attraction here – or that he is a murderer and killed everyone. We will die on this boat before we find any ghosts, and then, we won’t become the ghosts who haunt the reservoir because there is nothing supernatural in the world.”

“That’s what Mother used to say.” The words came out of Vincent’s mouth before he could do anything, and his and Francis’ gaze saddened immediately.

“There is nothing supernatural in the world,” she would say whenever strange noises could be heard in the manor, and Franny and I had concluded that it could only be a poltergeist, or whenever we noticed something odd.

As children, we had never believed that a monster could live under our beds, but we had kept wondering. And, every time, we had gone to Mother to tell her about our speculations, she would always say the same words: “There is nothing supernatural in the world.”

But even though, I had grown up with this sentence in my head, deep down in a part of my heart I knew that it couldn’t be true. It was the part of me which would stay a child forever – a hopeful, wondering, curious child. It was the part of me which would shrink and shrink with each step I wandered deeper into the Underworld. It was the part of me I hoped would never fully vanish.

I knew that Mother’s words were true on a rational basis, and still, I wished that today, Fran and I would encounter the ghosts.

And something told me that, secretly, Francis wished for the same.

“Mr Heffer,” Vincent said, wanting to focus his mind on something else than his mother, “I seem to have heard your name before, but I am not certain if it was really you I had heard of – so would you be so kind and tell me what your occupation is?”

“Of course, I will be so kind,” Heffer said and cleared his throat. “You see, Mylord…”

Suddenly, Heffer brought the boat to standstill, and Redbird took a gun out of his jacket pocket.

Vincent raised his hands. “Gentlemen, I know that the answering of questions is often not an easy task, but brain work needs to be done – preferably without reaching for violence.”

Redbird laughed. “I think there’s a misunderstanding who is the moron in this situation, Phantomhive.”

“At least, I am not a heathen who brings a gun to a good, old fist fight.”

“You have no idea how pleased I will be to blow out your light.”

“No! The girl first,” said Heffer, glaring at Francis. “That nasty little girl deserves a bullet between her eyes.”

The next moment, Francis took a knife out of her sleeve and jumped at Heffer, letting the boat shake. For a second, Redbird’s attention was not focused on Vincent but Heffer and Francis, and Vincent used this fatal mistake to knock the gun out of Redbird’s hands. Redbird turned around, but before he could strike, Vincent landed a punch against his face.

Welsh Harp was not a very deep reservoir. Its average depth was only two metres, but we had rowed quite far, and I estimated that if we dived, the ground would be around five metres below us.

Heffer had lost grip of an oar when Francis had attacked him and cursed when it vanished in the dark water. He held his second and last oar with both his hands and lunged out at Francis with it, nearly hitting Redbird and Vincent. Francis ducked down before the oar could collide with her head and stepped forward, trying to slice with the knife across Heffer’s chest, but his action had brought the boat into fluctuation, and the four of them fell down.

If Francis and I jumped and swam, would we be able to endure it until we reached the shore? The waves weren’t strong but we both wore heavy clothes, and the dry land was rather far away. I was especially worried about Francis as she wore a dress with a crinoline.

Vincent hit his head hard against the boat’s bottom and when he looked up, his vision still blurry and his head spinning, he faintly saw Redbird picking up his gun and pointing it at Francis who was about to stand up again. And even though his head was still not working properly, he rushed forward and shielded his sister. With the boat still swaying, the bullet did not hit, but it did not miss either when Redbird pulled the trigger of his gun.

The bullet grazed Vincent’s right arm and made him stumble back and against Francis – then, Heffer hit Vincent with the oar, and he and his sister fell off the boat and into the water which was coloured red where they hit it and vanished into its depths.

But, I guessed, now, we had no choice anymore.

***

“Vincent.”

Mother? I looked around and saw her in front of me – my beautiful mother with the sad eyes.

“Vincent.”

I opened my mouth and wanted to say something, but no words came out.

“Vincent – every task has to be done whole-heartedly. If you are not focused, if you focus on something else but the task at hand, you raise the possibility to fail.”

I wanted to say something – I wanted to tell her that I missed her. I wanted to reach out to her. But my body was not working, was not responding to any of my commands.

This was a fragment of my memories – my sub-consciousness had made me remember something my mother had told me long ago.

The woman in front of me was only a recording of this memory, and I knew that my words would never be able to reach her. But I wished there was a way they could. I wished they would.

“But, Vincent, keep in mind that failure is nothing to be ashamed of. Because just because we fail, just because we make mistakes, we can grow. We can learn. It doesn’t matter if we fail – what matters is what we do with the experience of failure. If we can go on or if we cling to the mistakes we have made.”

“Vincent, Vincent…”

The sound of someone calling his name woke him up.

He opened his eyes and saw Francis kneeling next to him. They were on dry land again.

She had done it. Francis had managed to swim back to the shore in her heavy dress and with me as additional weight to carry.

Mother used to say that there was nothing supernatural in the world, but every time, I saw Fran demonstrating her strength, all I could think of was that, at least, even if everything else wasn’t her strength was.

I smiled a little smile.

My special, special sister.

The clothes of his sister were drenched. Algae and leaves clung to her, and there was a stick in her hair. Vincent could not say if she had cried, but he saw how shaken she was.

I wondered how I looked like.

“You are awake,” Francis said to him and rubbed her face. She might look dreadful, but, at least, she didn’t seem to be injured. “And you didn’t want me to go with you. That’s exactly why I have insisted on coming with you.”

“Hello, Franny.” If he could wave, he would have had.

“Mother…” she started before biting her lip, but he knew what she had wanted to say: Mother had died alone. If I hadn’t come with you, you would have died alone too. If I hadn’t come with you, there wouldn’t have been anyone to prevent this from happening.

Vincent wanted to sit up but when he tried to move his right arm, pain ran through his body, and he remembered the fight on the boat. Francis helped him sit up, and he held his arm. The bleeding had stopped as, apparently, Francis had cut off his sleeve and tied it around his wound.

“Where are those bastards?” Vincent wanted to know, and Francis smiled a bit at his words.

“When I reached the shore, they were already long gone.” She pointed to the boat which had returned to the jetty. Only now did Vincent realise that they weren’t on the same side of the reservoir where they had started.

“I guess they thought we had died when we didn’t surface right away,” Francis continued. “They’ve made a crucial mistake.”

Vincent grinned. “‘Always check the corpse if you don’t want an unpleasant surprise later on,’” they said in unison and laughed.

“Why do you think did they do this?” Vincent said, but just when the question had left his mouth, his brain had found an answer.

“The manor,” he breathed, his eyes widened. “Fran – the manor. They are heading to the manor.”

Francis frowned. “Why should they be doing this?”

“Think, Fran – Redbird looked around a bit too intensively when we walked through the corridors. And ever since he told us Heffer’s name, I knew that I had heard the name ‘Paul Heffer’ before, and now, I can finally remember why: He’s the owner of Heffer’s Antiquity Shop where Father was a regular customer.”

“The woman in the woods,” Francis added. “Ash finding her was not a coincidence then.”

Vincent nodded. “Exactly. She was only brought into the play so that we would be forced to split up.”

“They didn’t aim to kill us,” she said. “Not primarily, at least. They only wanted us as far away as possible from the manor.”

“So that when they move to the next stage of their plan, they would have to face fewer opponents.”

“And they are striking now because the household is still in mourning and all of our minds are with Mother and Father.”

“That’s how they got us,” said Vincent and clenched his left hand. “They exploited the fact that none of us is at their best right now to set their plan rolling.”

At least, I as the family head should have kept my mind focused and sharp. It was my fault that all of this had happened. How could I have been so stupid to let my mind wander restlessly?

“But, Vincent, keep in mind that failure is nothing to be ashamed of.”

And suddenly, I recalled the words Mother had told me in my dream.

“If we can go on or if we cling to the mistakes we have made.”

“Fran,” Vincent said, jumping to his feet. “We have to go back to the manor.”

“But how should we do it?” Francis replied. “There is nobody around – they had made sure of that. You are injured, we are both drenched and dirty, and the manor is fifty kilometres away. We can only hope that Tanaka and the other servants have not been stabbed in the back by this woman Redbird and Heffer planted into our home, that they will be able to defeat them, and Tanaka comes to get us.”

He shook his head. “We cannot just hope and wait, Franny. I am surprised to hear that from you – usually, you are the one who chooses the reckless route.”

“I don’t usually choose the reckless route – I choose the rational route. And this isn’t the reckless one anyway,” Francis countered. “This is the ridiculous route. We cannot walk fifty kilometres back home in our condition and expect that they would wait for us to foil their plan.”

“We don’t have to walk all the way back home, Francis,” Vincent replied. “They aren’t gone for long now – they can’t have come far.”

“Vincent, even if we weren’t tired and drenched, even if you weren’t injured, we wouldn’t be able to catch up with a carriage. If only there was a way to contact someone and…” She suddenly cut herself off.

“Hm? Is anything wrong, Fran?”

Francis didn’t answer his question. Instead, she frisked her neck and sighed in relief. Then, she reached into her dress and took out a necklace with an unusual pendant in the shape of a skull.

“Just before she went away,” Francis told Vincent, “Mother gave me this necklace. She told me always to wear and never lose it because if I ever got into trouble, the necklace would be helpful to me. According to her, I should only put my hand around the pendant and think a message like ‘Help me’ or ‘Find me’ or anything like that, and then, after a while, I would get help. She also told me that if I didn’t wear the necklace and only held it in my hand, it wouldn’t work.” She lowered her voice. “Then, she said goodbye to me – these were the last words Mother had ever said to me.”

Vincent couldn’t help himself but grimace for a second before he examined the pendant in greater detail. It was surely a very strange pendant not only because of its shape but also because it was covered in scratches.

It looked so old.

“But how should that work?” Vincent asked, incredulous, to avoid voicing the question the necklace truly brought about. “Over the years, Mother never missed an opportunity to tell us that supernatural things don’t exist – and then, she gives you a necklace which, if it works, is clearly supernatural? It doesn’t fit.”

“I know, but that is all we have. I have no idea why Mother gave me this necklace or why she told me all these fantastic things,” Francis replied. “All I know is that part of me trusts her. That even though she said those things throughout her life, she still believed in this necklace – and I want to believe in it too. Just like Mother. And it won’t hurt to try.”

Slightly hesitant, Francis embraced the skull pendant with her hand and closed her eyes. When she was done, she opened them again and let the pendant vanish under her dress.

“What now?” Vincent said.

“Now we have to wait and hope.”

***

The last time, I had seen my parents before their death had been on the two days of the annual cricket tournament at my school.

They had come with Francis and Tanaka, and I remembered how happy I had been when I had seen them in the crowd of incoming guests. I had not interacted much with them though. Now, I wished I had stayed more with them and hadn’t continued vexing Diedrich von Weizsäcker.

At least, they had smiled the last time I had seen them.

The love of my parents had never been loud – just like every other romance in our society too. But it didn’t have to be loud.

At the tournament, I always saw parents who visibly didn’t like each other, who had only come together because of society or duty or both. But in every word, in every smile they had exchanged, it was clear that my parents had married for more than that.

They had shown their love for each other in small, subtle gestures – and they had shown their love for us in the same way.

We Phantomhives weren’t subtle or shy, but we were when it came to love.

“She knew,” Vincent said the words he had avoided earlier. He was sitting next to his sister now. “Mother knew what would await her.”

Francis put a hand on her chest, right above the skull pendant. “And she still went away – but why?”

“That’s the question.”

“What…” she started and paused before continuing. “What if I had been able to stop her? If I had told her to stay when she had bid goodbye to Father and me?”

“Franny – this is not your fault,” Vincent replied. “No one is at fault but the person who did this to her. How could you have stopped something you had no idea that could happen? In retrospect, it may appear that you, we could have done something but, actually, it isn’t like that. She lied to us where she would go. If we had known, this would have been different, but we hadn’t. We hadn’t, Francis. And Mother said goodbye like every other time she went somewhere – that was not an indication that she would knowingly put herself into danger. I would say that while Mother knew where she was going and what she was doing and that it was dangerous, she didn’t know that she would die. Franny, she didn’t give you the necklace in the knowledge that she would definitely die on that day – she gave it to you in case that something would happen to her.

“Mother was the only person who could have prevented this – and even she hadn’t known all. Not even she had known enough to keep this tragedy from happening.”

Francis leaned against Vincent, and he leaned against her.

“I miss them, Vin,” she whispered.

“I miss them too.”

They stayed like this for a while until they heard the sound of horses walking on grass and the rattling of a carriage’s wheels. They looked around, and their eyes widened when they saw who was riding the carriage.

“Undertaker?” they said at the same time and struggled to stand up to approach him.

“How did you find us, Undertaker?” Vincent asked when they reached the carriage which had stopped in the meantime.

The necklace, the necklace – it had worked. It had really worked just like Mother had said.

“I had the odd feeling that I would find you here. I didn’t think that our paths would cross so soon again,” Undertaker replied and leaned down. When he spoke, his voice was full of concern. “What happened to you, little Phantomhives?”

***

They had met the odd mortician for the first time at their parents’ funeral. Back then, Undertaker had approached and offered them his help when no one else had. Vincent wondered why of all people, the man he had only met once before had come to help them after Francis had used the skull pendant necklace.

Perhaps, it contacted the closest available person the bearer knew? Francis rarely left the manor, and Undertaker was one of the few persons she knew besides the members of our household, my schoolmates at Weston, and the boys from the fencing school. Was that the reason why Undertaker had been the one who had come? Or had all only happened by chance and the necklace wasn’t really enchanted?

“A lot of people vanished around here,” Undertaker suddenly said on their way back to the manor a while later. Vincent had wanted to leave as soon as possible so that they wouldn’t lose any more time, but Undertaker had insisted to thoroughly examine him and, after asking, Francis to make sure that they weren’t injured somewhere – because, sometimes, you didn’t notice it yourself if you were hurt or not. Also, he had cleaned and re-bandaged Vincent’s wound.

“Some corpses were found all around London; the whereabouts of the remaining bodies are still unknown. The owner of the Old Welsh Harp Tavern was taken into custody because the only connection the victims had was that they were regulars at that pothouse. After Warner was declared a subject in this crime and was taken in, Scotland Yard forbade the few residents living here to come close to the area around the reservoir.”

“How do you know all of that?” Francis wanted to know.

“Lady Phantomhive, can’t you guess? I am the mortician who conducted the post-mortem examinations on the corpses and buried them. I care for those who died, and nobody else cares about – I am the undertaker of England’s Underworld.”

Vincent closed his eyes. “Redbird and Heffer murdered those people for their story to have more basis. I wonder for how long they have planned all this.”

“But the Queen’s letter,” his sister added. “What about Queen Victoria’s letter? She sent you one in which she apologised, told you that she had a task for you, and that you should meet with Ruadh-Éan Redbird to find out more.”

“It is easy to find out if the letter was real or not,” Undertaker said to their surprise. “I hear and see a lot, and thus, I know that, as long as it is not a short note, the Queen likes to add more to her letters than needed – personal anecdotes, for example. This isn’t something you can find out when you have only one of her letters. Also, when it comes to work regarding the Watchdog, she prefers to write the letters herself over letting someone else write what she dictates.”

Vincent opened his eyes again and stared at Undertaker – something which he couldn’t see because he was facing away from Francis and Vincent.

At our first and only encounter until now, I had already noticed that Undertaker was not a normal mortician, but I wouldn’t have imagined that he would be even more than what I had thought he was back then.

But, I guessed, that humans were always more than they initially appeared to be.

“The Queen didn’t add more than what Francis said,” Vincent told Undertaker. “And when I think about it – the writing in the letter she sent me looked different than the writing in the letters she sent to my father. I was never allowed to read them, but I could glimpse at them.”

“So they forged a letter on the base of an official letter coming from Her Majesty,” Francis said, “but it didn’t come to their mind that the way she writes her official letters isn’t the way she writes her letters to the Watchdog.”

Vincent nodded. “All fits together. I am certain that we wouldn’t have fallen for their trap if they had struck in a few months when our minds are not so clouded anymore.”

“Yes, definitely. But that raises the question why they are doing this in the first place,” said Francis. “Heffer owns an antiquity shop, and this could mean that they aren’t doing all this just to steal our money but for something much more valuable and rarer. Something antique. But the only thing which comes to my mind is the Phantomhive ring which you are wearing right now, Vincent. If they were after the ring, they would have kidnapped you and forced you to hand it over. And if you disobeyed, they would have just cut off your hand – the treasure they seek can’t be the Phantomhive ring because if it was, they wouldn’t be doing all this. Whatever they want, they think it is somewhere in the manor.”

“I also cannot think of anything else but the ring,” Vincent replied and touched the ring’s blue stone. Even if it was eerie that this ring had seen his predecessor’s death, the ring still brought Vincent comfort in a way he couldn’t describe.

“Tanaka had come to the manor to steal something too,” Francis suddenly added, and Vincent turned his head to blink at her. “We were never told what it was he was supposed to steal; we only know that it was neither money nor the ring too. What if Heffer, Redbird, and the woman want to steal the same thing which was the reason Tanaka had come all the way from Japan to England?”

“It… it is possible,” Vincent agreed. “I am certain that Tanaka’s already managed to make them pee in their pants and petticoats when we arrive. I doubt that the woman could do anything against him. Tanaka is incredibly fast and strong despite his age. And he is not so naïve to keep his back unguarded. Not even when he is in mourning and doesn’t expect an attack. When we return, we will pressure Redbird and his henchmen until they tell us the reason for their actions. Also, we can ask Tanaka what he wanted to steal thirteen years ago.”

“Who is that woman anyway? I wished Ash had been enough of a decent person to bring her to the manor so that we could have looked at her before we started out to Brent.”

“My wild guess is that the third person, the woman you are speaking of, is Rhea Simone,” Undertaker interjected. “She is Ruadh-Éan Redbird’s fiancée and a truly unpleasant person just like him.”

Vincent frowned. “You met Redbird and his fiancée?”

“Only Simone, but from what you have told me about Redbird, he seems not to be better than his betrothed.”

It was almost scary how much Undertaker knew – perhaps, in the future, his knowledge could be very helpful to me?

***

They spent the rest of the carriage drive to the manor in silence, and Vincent did his best not to let his thoughts wander.

I had been distracted enough for today.

***

The manor looked just like they had left it except that, now, all servants were gathered in the courtyard. They stood around the bodies of three people. Vincent didn’t know if they were only unconscious or already dead. He recognised Redbird and Heffer. The third person, a woman, was just as bruised and bleeding as her companions, and her strangely coloured hair was in a ridiculous braided hairstyle. Vincent saw Undertaker nodding from the corner of his eye, and he knew that the woman was indeed Rhea Simone, Redbird’s fiancée.

Tanaka ran towards them when he saw them at the gate.

“Lady Francis! Young Master!” he called. “I was about to head to Brent to find you – I would have never forgiven myself if something had happened to you.”

Vincent gave him a crooked smile. “We fought bravely – but our brave fight made us take a bath against our will. Undertaker was so friendly to bring us home.”

Undertaker waved at Tanaka who bowed at him. “And I thank him for that.”

“What happened to Redbird and his accomplices?” Vincent asked, nodding towards them.

“I am sorry, Young Master,” Tanaka replied. “I know that you would have liked to interrogate them, but when we cornered them, they suddenly started to attack one another. We tried to stop them, but they still managed to kill one another.”

“It is all right, Tanaka – you did all you could.”

It was over. My first “task” as the Watchdog was over.

And even though I had failed miserably, I knew that my parents wouldn’t be disappointed in me. That they wouldn’t start to love me less than before.

And then, suddenly, Vincent’s eyes began to tear.

I hadn’t cried when I had found out. I hadn’t cried at their funeral. I hadn’t cried when I had walked towards Queen Victoria on my decoration day.

All this time, I had felt so numb inside – numb because our sudden loss was still inside my bones, numb because I had always felt and thought that as the Earl of Phantomhive, as the family head, I could not cry. Because, after all, I was the one everyone looked up at and who should watch over all.

But, sometimes, tears could come when you least expected them. When you kept your guard down for even a moment.

And I cried. I cried for Mother and Father and for every other opportunity to cry I had missed.

They were gone, but they were still with us – they were with us when we ate dinner, were with us when we walked through the manor. They were in our memories, in all they had taught us, and in their love to us which we would never lose.

Francis embraced me, and Undertaker and Tanaka turned away, and I cried in her arms for all we had loved and lost.

I was the Watchdog, I was the Earl and family head – but it didn’t matter if I was the one who should give support, it didn’t matter if I was the one who should lend all my shoulder; sometimes, I still needed someone who could support me and who would lend me their shoulder. I still needed a partner and someone by my side.

At the end of the day, I was still a human after all.

#Watchdog of the Queen #bonus chapters #vincent phantomhive #francis midford #tanaka #undertaker #cloudia phantomhive #claudia phantomhive #black butler #kuroshitsuji #fanfiction #ff #original characters #to whoever gets all my references and stuff: thanks #to whoever reads my tags: sorry again for being late

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