Hallowed Ground - DIRECTOR'S CUT
Title: "Hallowed Ground"
Series: Black Butler
Genre: Romance, Drama
Characters/Pairings: Will/Grell, implied SebaCiel, others
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,705
Summary: Two unexpected guests drop in on a wedding.
Notes: Spoilers for the end of season two, YE BE WARNED.
To Read:
June 17th, 1989
It was a beautiful Saturday evening and a small London church was playing host to what was quite possibly the strangest wedding ceremony its weathered walls had ever borne witness to. As per usual, the hall was bedecked in angelic shades of white... The bride, however, was dressed in a gown of magnificent red.
Her equally-red hair was piled atop her head in a curly mass, as was the current fashion (she always prided herself on following all the latest trends) and her lips were painted a shade that put the assortment of roses she held in her bridal bouquet to shame.
The bride, Grelle Spears (née Sutcliff) was beaming contentedly, having finally achieved the dream wedding she'd coveted for so long - almost as long as she'd coveted that operation she'd recently had, though it was definitely worth the wait to finally be able to join the ranks of womanhood proper.
The ceremony went off without a hitch, though there was a bit of a stir when the bride refused to stop kissing her bespectacled groom after they'd said their vows and been officially declared husband and wife.
Following the wedding, there was to be a casual reception held in a nearby gazebo on the church grounds. Though it was a beautiful structure, and plenty big enough for a wedding party, it was very seldom used as such - due to its close proximity to the chapel's cemetery.
Of course, to creatures whose entire business was to deal out death on a daily basis, this provided no problem whatsoever.
The wedding guests consisted mainly of the newlywed's coworkers. Ronald Knox had already downed two champagne flasks, with plenty more in the foreseeable future. Lawrence Anderson, the reapers' premier glasses craftsman, oversaw the proceedings with all the severity of a chaperone at a high school prom. Even some of the interns had deigned to attend, though that was most likely attributable to the large amount of free food being offered at the ceremony.
But the bride and groom were lost in a world all their own, swaying in time to the wedding song that the two of them had chosen especially for this happy occasion.
For here you are, standing there, loving me
Whether or not you should
The bride shyly lifted her gaze to her new husband's face, tears of happiness welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over and flow down her cheeks. She could scarcely believe how lucky she was...
Nothing comes from nothing
Nothing ever could
The groom's gaze softened, and a hint of one of his rare smiles alighted upon his lips. Who'd have thought both reapers would end up being such huge fans of Rodgers and Hammerstein?
So somewhere in my youth or childhood
I must have done something good
As the song came to an end, the bride moved closer to kiss her groom once again, but quickly noticed that his gentle smile had been replaced most unceremoniously with the bitterest of scowls. Her blood turned to ice in her veins for a moment.
Oh God, was he having second thoughts? She'd always been secretly afraid this was too good to be true...
Her mouth grew dry and her heart pounded loudly in her ears. What would she do if he rejected her? She'd only ever managed before by creating absurd highs to counter her many, many lows. And she'd finally come so close to her ultimate happiness, she'd completely fall apart if she lost it now.
She took a deep, shuddering breath and forced herself to remain calm.
"Darling," she began with a thin smile, "is something wrong? That's far too sour a face to wear on one's wedding day..."
The groom harrumphed.
"I believe you will find me a far more jolly fellow once those...things," he said, gesturing to the street adjacent, "have left."
Sure enough, standing just outside the churchyard, almost as though unable to enter, were two graceful figures - a man and a boy - their willowy frames clad entirely in black. The man stood a full two heads taller than the boy and it was he whom the bride recognized instantly. Her terror vanished instantly, replaced by pure surprise.
"No. Way."
Quick as a shot, the bride made her way through the crowd toward the gate, murmuring a few rushed apologies along the way. However, before she could make a clean getaway, a vice-like grip suddenly caught hold of her arm, bringing her body to a screeching halt.
"Er, I don't suppose," her new husband began, an awkward blush forming on his cheeks, "I need remind you exactly whose ring it is you now wear upon your finger?"
"Oh, William..."
The bride was apparently so tickled pink by this unexpected display of jealousy, she immediately pulled her partner into a nearby enclave to spend a few moments letting him know exactly where it was her affections lay.
She then continued onward, briefly turning around to blow a saucy kiss to her groom - now considerably more disheveled than before - and made her way through the churchyard, to the gate where the two mysterious figures remained.
Now, when a person says it's been a hundred years since they've last seen someone, they are most likely utilizing a speech convention known as "hyperbole." That, however, was not the case in this particular instance.
It had been almost exactly one hundred years since the bride had last laid eyes upon the man before her, so she realized she must choose her words very carefully now, seeing as she'd finally been given the opportunity to meet him again...
"You've got bad timing," she remarked flippantly, with a toss of her head, "I'm afraid you've just missed your chance."
The man took a moment to brush long black bangs out of his face and tuck a strand behind his ear before giving her his dry response, made complete with the arching of one graceful eyebrow.
"I'm sure I'll find a way to manage, somehow."
"Ooh, it's been so long since I've heard that caustic wit of yours! It's music to my ears! Bliss!"
The bride continued on in this manner for a bit, while the two figures waited patiently for her to snap out of the sparkling reverie she'd suddenly found herself in.
Which, luckily, took much less time than it once had. Perhaps the years had taken their toll on the reaper, having a somewhat mellowing effect. At any rate, the bride's face soon softened into a much more casual expression, her next words delivered with a teasing amiability.
"You know, that tea you left for me was just terrible~"
"Oh," the man responded, putting on an air of innocence, "too salty for the lady's discerning taste buds?"
The bride gave a short bark of laughter at that last remark, before looking upwards and meeting the man's gaze through her long false eyelashes.
"I drank every last drop, though."
He didn't seem to know exactly how to respond to this, which the bride took as her cue to continue.
"Will seemed verrry put out that I wanted to come speak with you, y'know. Perhaps I've spoken a bit too highly of your classical beauty, hmm? That's bound to make any man jealous... But I'm sure you know how it is."
"I'm afraid I don't," the man replied with a somewhat bemused smile, "but, then, I do have a rather unfair advantage."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
"Well," he began, a tight smile upon his lips, "there is no one on earth more beautiful than my beloved, after all..."
His gaze shifted, almost imperceptibly, to the boy-shaped creature beside him.
"Enough with the chit-chat," the boy spoke out coldly, attempting to curb the ruddy flush that had suddenly appeared upon his face. This not-boy, who had been keeping silent until now, had the appearance of a youth of perhaps thirteen or so. His dark gray locks just barely brushed above blood-red eyes that had once been blue.
"Yes," the bride murmured, "we've known about you for a good while now, former earl. You caused quite a bit of trouble for my department back at the turn of the century. Oh, what my Will wouldn't give to get his hands on you right about now..."
At this, the man moved slightly forward, reflexively placing himself in front of his young charge, not unlike a knight defending a fair maiden. But the bride merely tittered and waved him off.
"Oh, you needn't worry about him trying anything today," she sighed, attempting her very best put-upon face, "my husband is far more likely to keep himself occupied micro-managing our honeymoon this happy day..."
"And what right do you have to be happy?" the boy's words spat from his mouth like bullets from a gun and both individuals who bore witness were visibly taken aback by the display, "you've got some incredible gall, putting on a show like this..."
"Hmm," the bride mused, batting her electric-green eyes in what she hoped was an innocent fashion, "now whatever could you mean by that, I wonder?"
The young demon's voice lowered, but his eyes blazed: "This is the same chapel my aunt's funeral was held in," he hissed.
And whatever reaction he had expected from the reaper, it was not the one he received. Her smile faded, replaced with a look of quiet serenity, though the glimmer in her eyes shone as brightly as ever.
"I know," she said simply, "that's why I chose it."
The demon who used to be Ciel Phantomhive narrowed his eyes, which seemed to briefly flash a hellish fuchsia before returning to their static crimson shade. He muttered an annoyed "tch" under his breath and whirled around, heading off down the sidewalk.
"Come, Sebastian," he ordered, glancing back over his shoulder, "we're done here."
The demon butler gave the newlywed bride a courtly inclination of his head before following his no-longer-young master down the boulevard, leaving her to return to the wedding reception and her new life, a content smile playing about on her features as she gazed skyward.
"Surely you didn't think I'd forget, Madam..."
But no response ever came.
---
For those of you unfamiliar with Will and Grell's wedding song, here's the original:
Maybe it's just me, but I've always felt that this song fit them rather well. ;w;
And young Christopher Plummer kinda reminds me of William, too.
...NOW GO OUT AND WATCH "THE SOUND OF MUSIC" RIGHT NOW, ALL OF YOU. :B
Yeah, so I decided to rewrite the wedding fic that I'd posted a while back... I hadn't been very happy with its original execution, but I was really fond of the concept - plus, it somehow seems to have become a bridge of sorts between 12gatsunohime's fantastic Will/Grell fanfics and crescent_moony's adorable Bicentennial series, which I find incredibly flattering and completely undeserved - so I thought I might as well give it another shot, if only for the sake of continuity. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this new and improved version. Thanks for reading! ;3;
Series: Black Butler
Genre: Romance, Drama
Characters/Pairings: Will/Grell, implied SebaCiel, others
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,705
Summary: Two unexpected guests drop in on a wedding.
Notes: Spoilers for the end of season two, YE BE WARNED.
To Read:
June 17th, 1989
It was a beautiful Saturday evening and a small London church was playing host to what was quite possibly the strangest wedding ceremony its weathered walls had ever borne witness to. As per usual, the hall was bedecked in angelic shades of white... The bride, however, was dressed in a gown of magnificent red.
Her equally-red hair was piled atop her head in a curly mass, as was the current fashion (she always prided herself on following all the latest trends) and her lips were painted a shade that put the assortment of roses she held in her bridal bouquet to shame.
The bride, Grelle Spears (née Sutcliff) was beaming contentedly, having finally achieved the dream wedding she'd coveted for so long - almost as long as she'd coveted that operation she'd recently had, though it was definitely worth the wait to finally be able to join the ranks of womanhood proper.
The ceremony went off without a hitch, though there was a bit of a stir when the bride refused to stop kissing her bespectacled groom after they'd said their vows and been officially declared husband and wife.
Following the wedding, there was to be a casual reception held in a nearby gazebo on the church grounds. Though it was a beautiful structure, and plenty big enough for a wedding party, it was very seldom used as such - due to its close proximity to the chapel's cemetery.
Of course, to creatures whose entire business was to deal out death on a daily basis, this provided no problem whatsoever.
The wedding guests consisted mainly of the newlywed's coworkers. Ronald Knox had already downed two champagne flasks, with plenty more in the foreseeable future. Lawrence Anderson, the reapers' premier glasses craftsman, oversaw the proceedings with all the severity of a chaperone at a high school prom. Even some of the interns had deigned to attend, though that was most likely attributable to the large amount of free food being offered at the ceremony.
But the bride and groom were lost in a world all their own, swaying in time to the wedding song that the two of them had chosen especially for this happy occasion.
For here you are, standing there, loving me
Whether or not you should
The bride shyly lifted her gaze to her new husband's face, tears of happiness welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over and flow down her cheeks. She could scarcely believe how lucky she was...
Nothing comes from nothing
Nothing ever could
The groom's gaze softened, and a hint of one of his rare smiles alighted upon his lips. Who'd have thought both reapers would end up being such huge fans of Rodgers and Hammerstein?
So somewhere in my youth or childhood
I must have done something good
As the song came to an end, the bride moved closer to kiss her groom once again, but quickly noticed that his gentle smile had been replaced most unceremoniously with the bitterest of scowls. Her blood turned to ice in her veins for a moment.
Oh God, was he having second thoughts? She'd always been secretly afraid this was too good to be true...
Her mouth grew dry and her heart pounded loudly in her ears. What would she do if he rejected her? She'd only ever managed before by creating absurd highs to counter her many, many lows. And she'd finally come so close to her ultimate happiness, she'd completely fall apart if she lost it now.
She took a deep, shuddering breath and forced herself to remain calm.
"Darling," she began with a thin smile, "is something wrong? That's far too sour a face to wear on one's wedding day..."
The groom harrumphed.
"I believe you will find me a far more jolly fellow once those...things," he said, gesturing to the street adjacent, "have left."
Sure enough, standing just outside the churchyard, almost as though unable to enter, were two graceful figures - a man and a boy - their willowy frames clad entirely in black. The man stood a full two heads taller than the boy and it was he whom the bride recognized instantly. Her terror vanished instantly, replaced by pure surprise.
"No. Way."
Quick as a shot, the bride made her way through the crowd toward the gate, murmuring a few rushed apologies along the way. However, before she could make a clean getaway, a vice-like grip suddenly caught hold of her arm, bringing her body to a screeching halt.
"Er, I don't suppose," her new husband began, an awkward blush forming on his cheeks, "I need remind you exactly whose ring it is you now wear upon your finger?"
"Oh, William..."
The bride was apparently so tickled pink by this unexpected display of jealousy, she immediately pulled her partner into a nearby enclave to spend a few moments letting him know exactly where it was her affections lay.
She then continued onward, briefly turning around to blow a saucy kiss to her groom - now considerably more disheveled than before - and made her way through the churchyard, to the gate where the two mysterious figures remained.
Now, when a person says it's been a hundred years since they've last seen someone, they are most likely utilizing a speech convention known as "hyperbole." That, however, was not the case in this particular instance.
It had been almost exactly one hundred years since the bride had last laid eyes upon the man before her, so she realized she must choose her words very carefully now, seeing as she'd finally been given the opportunity to meet him again...
"You've got bad timing," she remarked flippantly, with a toss of her head, "I'm afraid you've just missed your chance."
The man took a moment to brush long black bangs out of his face and tuck a strand behind his ear before giving her his dry response, made complete with the arching of one graceful eyebrow.
"I'm sure I'll find a way to manage, somehow."
"Ooh, it's been so long since I've heard that caustic wit of yours! It's music to my ears! Bliss!"
The bride continued on in this manner for a bit, while the two figures waited patiently for her to snap out of the sparkling reverie she'd suddenly found herself in.
Which, luckily, took much less time than it once had. Perhaps the years had taken their toll on the reaper, having a somewhat mellowing effect. At any rate, the bride's face soon softened into a much more casual expression, her next words delivered with a teasing amiability.
"You know, that tea you left for me was just terrible~"
"Oh," the man responded, putting on an air of innocence, "too salty for the lady's discerning taste buds?"
The bride gave a short bark of laughter at that last remark, before looking upwards and meeting the man's gaze through her long false eyelashes.
"I drank every last drop, though."
He didn't seem to know exactly how to respond to this, which the bride took as her cue to continue.
"Will seemed verrry put out that I wanted to come speak with you, y'know. Perhaps I've spoken a bit too highly of your classical beauty, hmm? That's bound to make any man jealous... But I'm sure you know how it is."
"I'm afraid I don't," the man replied with a somewhat bemused smile, "but, then, I do have a rather unfair advantage."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
"Well," he began, a tight smile upon his lips, "there is no one on earth more beautiful than my beloved, after all..."
His gaze shifted, almost imperceptibly, to the boy-shaped creature beside him.
"Enough with the chit-chat," the boy spoke out coldly, attempting to curb the ruddy flush that had suddenly appeared upon his face. This not-boy, who had been keeping silent until now, had the appearance of a youth of perhaps thirteen or so. His dark gray locks just barely brushed above blood-red eyes that had once been blue.
"Yes," the bride murmured, "we've known about you for a good while now, former earl. You caused quite a bit of trouble for my department back at the turn of the century. Oh, what my Will wouldn't give to get his hands on you right about now..."
At this, the man moved slightly forward, reflexively placing himself in front of his young charge, not unlike a knight defending a fair maiden. But the bride merely tittered and waved him off.
"Oh, you needn't worry about him trying anything today," she sighed, attempting her very best put-upon face, "my husband is far more likely to keep himself occupied micro-managing our honeymoon this happy day..."
"And what right do you have to be happy?" the boy's words spat from his mouth like bullets from a gun and both individuals who bore witness were visibly taken aback by the display, "you've got some incredible gall, putting on a show like this..."
"Hmm," the bride mused, batting her electric-green eyes in what she hoped was an innocent fashion, "now whatever could you mean by that, I wonder?"
The young demon's voice lowered, but his eyes blazed: "This is the same chapel my aunt's funeral was held in," he hissed.
And whatever reaction he had expected from the reaper, it was not the one he received. Her smile faded, replaced with a look of quiet serenity, though the glimmer in her eyes shone as brightly as ever.
"I know," she said simply, "that's why I chose it."
The demon who used to be Ciel Phantomhive narrowed his eyes, which seemed to briefly flash a hellish fuchsia before returning to their static crimson shade. He muttered an annoyed "tch" under his breath and whirled around, heading off down the sidewalk.
"Come, Sebastian," he ordered, glancing back over his shoulder, "we're done here."
The demon butler gave the newlywed bride a courtly inclination of his head before following his no-longer-young master down the boulevard, leaving her to return to the wedding reception and her new life, a content smile playing about on her features as she gazed skyward.
"Surely you didn't think I'd forget, Madam..."
But no response ever came.
---
For those of you unfamiliar with Will and Grell's wedding song, here's the original:
Maybe it's just me, but I've always felt that this song fit them rather well. ;w;
And young Christopher Plummer kinda reminds me of William, too.
...NOW GO OUT AND WATCH "THE SOUND OF MUSIC" RIGHT NOW, ALL OF YOU. :B
Yeah, so I decided to rewrite the wedding fic that I'd posted a while back... I hadn't been very happy with its original execution, but I was really fond of the concept - plus, it somehow seems to have become a bridge of sorts between 12gatsunohime's fantastic Will/Grell fanfics and crescent_moony's adorable Bicentennial series, which I find incredibly flattering and completely undeserved - so I thought I might as well give it another shot, if only for the sake of continuity. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this new and improved version. Thanks for reading! ;3;