Kuroshitsuji fic: Gestures & Mortal
Jun. 2nd, 2010 10:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
narcasse579 words.
Learning the role.
Gestures
Disclaimer: Black Butler belongs to Toboso Yana, G-Fantasy and others.
+++++++++
When his new master tells him that he will assume the shape of a human servant it’s hardly a surprise, when he is given a human name to go with the trappings this too is to be expected but when his small master orders him to learn to mimic human mannerisms he is at a loss. The first order of the day then is to find a human to mimic and the estate steward will do well enough.
Tanaka was butler to the previous Earl so will know all the requisites for the position. Sebastian takes to following Tanaka about, officially to learn the layout and duties of the estate. He learns the layout of the rooms and corridors, the location of keys and condiments, the silent way in which a butler may cross polished wood floors. Tanaka suspects nothing so he supposes. And then one day the old estate steward pauses in the long walk down an empty corridor and turns upon him with a knowing look that would not be out of place in the highest courts of the underworld.
“How long is it that you’ve been in service?” The old man gestures to his greying head. “I seem to have forgotten.”
Sebastian hasn’t given any thought to such things at all. “Tanaka… san.” The former butler’s name appears Japanese so the honorific seems appropriate.
Tanaka’s smile is inscrutable: it remains fixed, pinning Sebastian in place with its conviviality.
“I’ve-“
“You’ve never been in service before.” It is a statement of fact.
“I assure you, my loyalty to the Earl is without question.”
“I didn’t question your loyalty: just your authenticity.”
It might play out in any number of directions so Sebastian adopts an apologetic expression and attempts to look embarrassed that he’s been found out. Tanaka nods as if accepting Sebastian’s apology by way of chagrin and resumes walking. Sebastian hurries after him.
“I suppose the order of things is rather different in France.”
“France?”
“Sebastian Michaelis was a French inquisitor; I presume that you are of French origin yourself.” The last part sounds more like an order than a mere comment.
“Yes! My… my mother’s people were from…”
“Valois.”
“…yes.”
Sebastian watches Tanaka’s back closely almost wondering if he can pick out the telltale afterimage of black wings. Only demons command in such a fashion, so he tells himself.
“Your mother’s people were still aristocrats even in Paris of course.”
“Yes.” The theme of Tanaka’s logic suddenly seems to unfold before Sebastian’s eyes. “Even with our title long gone.”
Tanaka nods as if to himself. “His lordship, the previous Earl, would have realised.”
Sebastian stops and waits for Tanaka to likewise halt and then turn to face him.
“Tanaka-san, this matter is very sensitive as of course you understand. I would be grateful if… that is, there is no reason to mention it further.”
“Of course. We will both keep our peace… for the sake of your late mother.”
“And for the sake of the late Earl.”
Tanaka smiles again, gently, the very image of a doting old grandparent. “I will not allow his lordship’s reputation to be compromised.”
Sebastian nods, all the while vividly picturing his own paralysed body being thrown into one of the estate’s deep ponds by an ever smiling Tanaka.
Human butlers, if Tanaka is human at all, are dangerous individuals so Sebastian realises. It is an impression that he too must cultivate if he is to play the role convincingly.
++++++++++
And a drabble:
Mortal
Disclaimer: Black Butler belongs to Toboso Yana, G-Fantasy and others.
+++++++++
It’s already late afternoon before Sebastian has time to rest. There’s a dinner to be held that evening and the advanced preparations have only just been completed, preparations that began before dawn.
In the spare few minutes he retreats to the empty servant’s dining room, shrugs off his jacket and slumps into a chair. He rakes his fingers through his hair, pulling it back from his face and stares at his reflection in the glass cabinet across from where he sits.
A stranger stares back: a servant, perhaps a nobleman’s bastard. Just another mortal using up his rapidly diminishing time.
++++++++++
Learning the role.
Gestures
Disclaimer: Black Butler belongs to Toboso Yana, G-Fantasy and others.
+++++++++
When his new master tells him that he will assume the shape of a human servant it’s hardly a surprise, when he is given a human name to go with the trappings this too is to be expected but when his small master orders him to learn to mimic human mannerisms he is at a loss. The first order of the day then is to find a human to mimic and the estate steward will do well enough.
Tanaka was butler to the previous Earl so will know all the requisites for the position. Sebastian takes to following Tanaka about, officially to learn the layout and duties of the estate. He learns the layout of the rooms and corridors, the location of keys and condiments, the silent way in which a butler may cross polished wood floors. Tanaka suspects nothing so he supposes. And then one day the old estate steward pauses in the long walk down an empty corridor and turns upon him with a knowing look that would not be out of place in the highest courts of the underworld.
“How long is it that you’ve been in service?” The old man gestures to his greying head. “I seem to have forgotten.”
Sebastian hasn’t given any thought to such things at all. “Tanaka… san.” The former butler’s name appears Japanese so the honorific seems appropriate.
Tanaka’s smile is inscrutable: it remains fixed, pinning Sebastian in place with its conviviality.
“I’ve-“
“You’ve never been in service before.” It is a statement of fact.
“I assure you, my loyalty to the Earl is without question.”
“I didn’t question your loyalty: just your authenticity.”
It might play out in any number of directions so Sebastian adopts an apologetic expression and attempts to look embarrassed that he’s been found out. Tanaka nods as if accepting Sebastian’s apology by way of chagrin and resumes walking. Sebastian hurries after him.
“I suppose the order of things is rather different in France.”
“France?”
“Sebastian Michaelis was a French inquisitor; I presume that you are of French origin yourself.” The last part sounds more like an order than a mere comment.
“Yes! My… my mother’s people were from…”
“Valois.”
“…yes.”
Sebastian watches Tanaka’s back closely almost wondering if he can pick out the telltale afterimage of black wings. Only demons command in such a fashion, so he tells himself.
“Your mother’s people were still aristocrats even in Paris of course.”
“Yes.” The theme of Tanaka’s logic suddenly seems to unfold before Sebastian’s eyes. “Even with our title long gone.”
Tanaka nods as if to himself. “His lordship, the previous Earl, would have realised.”
Sebastian stops and waits for Tanaka to likewise halt and then turn to face him.
“Tanaka-san, this matter is very sensitive as of course you understand. I would be grateful if… that is, there is no reason to mention it further.”
“Of course. We will both keep our peace… for the sake of your late mother.”
“And for the sake of the late Earl.”
Tanaka smiles again, gently, the very image of a doting old grandparent. “I will not allow his lordship’s reputation to be compromised.”
Sebastian nods, all the while vividly picturing his own paralysed body being thrown into one of the estate’s deep ponds by an ever smiling Tanaka.
Human butlers, if Tanaka is human at all, are dangerous individuals so Sebastian realises. It is an impression that he too must cultivate if he is to play the role convincingly.
++++++++++
And a drabble:
Mortal
Disclaimer: Black Butler belongs to Toboso Yana, G-Fantasy and others.
+++++++++
It’s already late afternoon before Sebastian has time to rest. There’s a dinner to be held that evening and the advanced preparations have only just been completed, preparations that began before dawn.
In the spare few minutes he retreats to the empty servant’s dining room, shrugs off his jacket and slumps into a chair. He rakes his fingers through his hair, pulling it back from his face and stares at his reflection in the glass cabinet across from where he sits.
A stranger stares back: a servant, perhaps a nobleman’s bastard. Just another mortal using up his rapidly diminishing time.
++++++++++
