Chapter Text
Ciel grits his teeth and sweeps his hair out of his eyes in annoyance as the traditional Chinese tunic he wears clings to his body, wet and uncomfortable as the third tray this evening has ended up falling out of his grip and the content of the cups splashed down the front of his clothes as well as all over his velvet slippers.
He hates this place, he hates these clothes, he hates that he is reliant on Lau instead of the other way around and he hates how absolutely terrible he is at playing the part he has been assigned to perform.
I’m a nobleman, how am I supposed to know how to serve other people when all my life I’ve been the one being served?
This feels exactly like that harrowing time at Noah’s Circus all over again, where he had been utterly useless at performing the most basic tasks that looked so easy at first glance but was much harder to actually execute with even an ounce of credibility.
He painfully remembers how he managed to bungle up peeling potatoes, a task that anyone should be able to execute without failure. It has certainly put a dent in his confidence to realise that manual labour is more difficult than it looks and that he hardly is able to complete it successfully, or even tolerably.
No wonder Mey-Rin always seems to struggle so much with everything she does back at the manor, she comes from a very different background as well, not being a servant from the beginning.
In fact, all his servants except Tanaka were not raised to assist others, and suddenly it makes all the sense in the world why they are so bad at what they do when it comes to performing the work that acts as their cover.
Now that he knows from experience how exceedingly difficult it can be to simply carry a tray of beverages across a room clouded in a fog of opium, trying to steer out of the way from people lying about in various stages of influence, some of them trying to grab at him as he passes them by while other seem lost inside their own delirious minds, Ciel vows to never again complain when Mey-Rin no doubt will drop yet another expensive porcelain vase to the floor or when Finny will butcher the roses with his garden pliers or Bard will allow something to catch fire in the kitchen.
Not that he will ever tell them that he has now managed to recognize their plight. He is still there master after all; it would be foolish to slacken the reins.
But he will keep it in mind and be more lenient towards them in the future, if he ever manages to get himself out of this awful predicament and finally return to the mansion that is currently occupied by the bizarre human experiment that’s posing as his twin brother.
He closes his eyes and silently counts to ten at the memory of what his supposed brother has put him through, the reminder washing over him like a particularly hellish bucket of ice, making his whole body go rigid with supressed rage.
He has so far not allowed himself to break down yet, because he fears that if he does, he won’t be able to rein himself in afterwards and he can’t afford to have a meltdown in a moment like this when everything still dangles so uncertainly in the air.
But the need to lash out and rage is increasingly overwhelming and it is only by constantly reminding himself that he needs to keep a cool head if he is going to win this game, that has so far prevented him from losing his composure completely.
He would hate to give Lau, or Sebastian for that matter, the satisfaction of witnessing him losing his temper in front of them and admit that he has no idea what to do right now.
He is still reeling from the shock of recent events and even if he wants nothing more than to fight back, he has no idea how to go about it, as his brother and Undertaker so very thoroughly has managed to shut every aiding door available to him.
He is grateful for Lau’s help of course, even if he suspects that it comes with a price tag that will end up being substantial before this is all over.
Logically he knows that it is fortunate that they have this hideout to rely on for the time being, while they try to figure out their next move.
Every piece of help is appreciated.
But so far Ciel has been unable to come up with a single satisfying idea that will help them get the upper hand over Undertaker and his damn twin brother.
Ciel wonders if he should have felt happier to see him again after thinking him dead for three whole years, but as Sebastian pointed out, this person who is posing as his brother is no more the real sibling he had grown up with as any of the other bizarre dolls Undertaker has brough back to life.
There are certainly shadows left of the bond they once shared, his brother had always been very protective of him and even a bit overprotective at times, and those traits are still very much present, but beyond that, the person posing as his twin back at Phantomhive manor is no longer the brother Ciel had once loved and cherished above anyone else, and he is not prepared to give up on everything he has built for himself these past couple of years for the sake of some usurper that Undertaker has managed to put in his place.
The irony of himself being the real usurper, having stolen a whole existence from his brother – his fiancé, his title, the family heirlooms, the manor etc, isn’t lost on him but that doesn’t change how he feels about the situation.
Because that thing walking in Undertaker’s leash, no matter how much they look alike, is not the brother he saw die on the slab by the hand of their captors three years ago.
For starters, his real brother would never do to him what this creature has put him through these past couple of days.
His real brother would have rejoiced over the fact that Ciel had made it out alive from their cage, that he had built a life for himself despite the hardship he had been through and that he managed to restore the Phantomhive name and reputation to what it had been before the murder of their parents.
As he, with a heavy heart, recalls how coddled and protected he had been by his older sibling during their childhood, Ciel knows that the boy at the manor is nothing but an evil shadow disguised in the appearance of someone he had once loved very much but who no longer exist in this life.
With a deep sigh, he reaches number ten inside his head and opens his eyes, just to be met by a pair of dark, somewhat dreamy ones peering down at him as if watching a particularly interesting butterfly.
Considering the amount of time this man spends in a constant haze of opium, it wouldn’t surprise Ciel if Lau actually sees something completely different than everyone else as he looks at the world around him.
“My, my, my. Yet another accident? You’re soaked to the bone it seems, dear Earl.”
Ciel supresses the urge to snap at him and schools his features into a softer kind of scowl than the one he usually presents to this man, or anyone else who dares to talk condescendingly towards him.
The agony of gratitude is actually quite galling, and he hates to be put in this uncomfortable position, but considering the alarming rate at which his allies has managed to become enemies now, he can’t afford to lose even a single more supporter, no matter how much it stings to act appreciative and compliant to those around him.
The only one he doesn’t feel the need to bow down to is Sebastian, as their bond is an arrangement that has nothing to do with whatever else is happening around them, the only thing that is actually his and not something he has stolen from his brother.
He isn’t sure a contract with a demon is something he should feel proud of or even cherish, but for some reason it feels comforting to know that Sebastian is his and only his, for as long as their contract is valid, and no matter what else Undertaker and his evil puppet has managed to steal from him, Sebastian will never be one of those things.
Even if he loses everything else, Sebastian will remain by his side, until the very end.
But he has hardly had any time to talk to Sebastian lately, both being too caught up in this harried chase his brother has forced them to participate in, and as a matter of fact, he doesn’t even know where his butler is currently residing, as all his attention has been focused on playing the part of a servant boy working in Lau’s establishment.
This brings him back to the present and the situation he is currently facing.
Lau remains bowed by the waist, looking at him with those dark mirthful eyes, his face far too close for comfort, much to Ciel’s dismay.
He doesn’t like to be under scrutiny, that is for other people to be subjected to, and now in particular, he feels too on edge to tolerate much more.
But luckily, just as he, despite his intentions to remain composed, is about to snap at Lau to stop staring, his host straightens his back and waives his hand in a lofty gesture towards a screen door to the left.
“There is a change of clothes behind there, one of my girls can help you.”
Ciel nods and is about to do as he is told, when Lau continues to address his retreating back.
“The part of a servant boy was always a bit of gamble I wasn’t really sure would work out, and after witnessing your performance tonight, I think we can both agree that such a role was never meant for the likes of you, dear Earl. Luckily, there are always other options.”
Ciel sighs inwardly but doesn’t allow his frustration to manifest upon his features. Instead, he tries to sound utterly calm and collected as he replies, turning his head to look at Lau over his shoulder.
“Such as?”
“Well, this is honestly an idea that I have contemplated more than a few times, but considering your very protective butler, as well as your own considerable pride, I’ve always allowed the suggestion to slip to the back of my mind without ever bringing it up.”
Ciel eyes him suspiciously, because Lau can be like a slippery rock if you don’t watch your step, and he is certainly not the carefree benevolent man he often pretends to be.
“And what kind of suggestion are we talking about?”
Lau smiles one of those smiles that means the promise of future enjoyment for him but bad things for everyone else and Ciel feels his stomach lurch at the sight of it.
There are a thousand more terrible options than playing the part of a servant boy, but on the other hand, the degrading experience of bungling up such an easy task as carrying a tray across a room is enough of an incentive to make him reach for a better offer, despite not knowing what that offer actually is.
“Go change your outfit and then we’ll talk.”
With a sloppy bow, Lau turns in a swish of soft fabric and silently disappears down a dark hallway while Ciel remains staring at his retreating back before doing as he is told, heading behind the screen door to change out of his damp clothes.
After a terse argument with one of Lau’ girls who was far too familiar with him while trying to change him out of his clothes and put on new ones, Ciel is eventually dolled-up in a new silky-smooth creation that is flapping around his small frame, making him feeling even more like a child than he actually is.
The other members of his household were given more form-fitting clothes when they arrived but the garments Ciel is persistently presented with are clearly made for children to wear and he hates the reminder of yet another aspect of his helplessness.
Being young, and even worse, being seen as a child, indicates a vulnerability that doesn’t sit well with him and the way he views himself.
Even if he hardly expects to live a long and happy life the way most people wish to do, he still feels averse to his juvenile state and for every year that passes, time gets him further away from a childhood that no longer gives him any enjoyment and that he finds more and more difficulty associating himself with…
Lau’s office is not so much an office than a room for lounging about, with pillows in abundance, a gilded divan where Ran-Mao sits curled up, clad in one of her scanty dresses while Lau himself reclines next to her like the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland, smoking an opium pipe from carefully crafted ivory, tendrils of smoke surrounding his seemingly tranquil persona.
The air is so hazy that Ciel has difficulty properly seeing his host’s features and with his history of asthma his lungs automatically constrict before resulting in a hacking cough.
Even to his own ears it sounds terrible, the wheezy breathing pattern of someone who has been subjected to damp clothes, stress and now this infernal smoke to make circumstances even worse, and for a second he almost expects Sebastian to come charging through the door in full mother hen-mode with some coughing syrup and a bowl of heated water for him to inhale.
But then he remembers that Sebastian, just like the other servants, is busy earning their keep by working for Lau, the butler, not very unexpectedly being very gifted in the art of luring indecisive first-time visitors to get a taste of the opium pipe to make them more inclined to return.
Hardly surprising that a creature of evil and vice would be such an expert at enticing people to their doom by using his silver tongue to persuade them...
Ciel has not bothered to witness it himself but overheard Lau praise Sebastian earlier for being quite the professional enabler.
“I’ve had plenty of practice,” Sebastian had purred in reply, as if aware that Ciel was listening in.
Luckily, Lau hadn’t bothered with any follow-up questions and Sebastian had returned to his task shortly after, while Ciel had returned to his.
Hopefully his own pitiable efforts as a servant boy will soon come to an end.
Depending on what Lau has in mind of course.
He contemplates where to sit down after his coughing has died down but there is no chair present in the room and he simply refuses to sit on a pile of pillows so he has to remain standing while waiting for Lau to tell him what his plans are.
Frustratingly enough, but hardly surprising considering that it is Lau, he doesn’t get to the point straight away.
Instead, he keeps puffing on his pipe while silently contemplating Ciel, as if he is the one waiting to be spoken to and not the other way around.
Finally Ciel can’t take the scrutiny anymore and snaps, despite his intentions of trying to stay calm and collected for as long as possible.
Knowing Lau and his tendency to suddenly forget, or pretend to forget things, they could very well be standing here staring at each other for ages if someone doesn’t take charge of the situation.
“I believe you had something you wanted to tell me, Lau?”
For a second it seems like Lau is going to pull the usual clueless act just to annoy him, but then he seems to think better of it and a smile creep upon his lips as he exhales a willowy plume of smoke into the air between them.
“So I did.”
Then he hands the pipe over to Ran-Mao and leans slightly forward to meet Ciel’s gaze properly.
“My establishment offers all kinds of entertainment for those who wish to escape the mundanities of ordinary life and have the money to pay for the privilege. We have the opium of course, our main attraction and the reason why most people come to this place. But we also offer the opportunity to gamble, as well as some …ah, more intimate entertainment for those looking for something a little more exotic than what the West End establishments can offer. And then we also arrange betting, for the people who can’t quite get their full desires satisfied around the gambling tables.”
This is hardly news to Ciel.
They have never really discussed Lau’s business in specific detail but it has always been well established that his fingers dabble in all kinds of shady business, well beyond what he opts to mention right now.
His hands are far more stained with blood than he pretends, even to the person who allows him to get away with his antics for the sake of their mutual agreement.
To show Lau that if he is trying to come off as shocking, he has utterly failed, Ciel merely raises one eyebrow in question and remains quiet.
He would normally throw in a look of disdain but refrains from doing so now as he is currently in debt for the help he is receiving.
Lau’s smile widens at the sight, as if delighted over the fact that Ciel remains unmoved, or because what he is about to say will procure him the real enjoyment.
“Despite this veritable den of vice, as your contacts at Scotland Yard would probably call it, this establishment also offers something a little different and more traditional for those who know how to appreciate beauty and aesthetics rather than just crave immediate gratification of their urges. And this, dear Earl, is where you come in.”
Ciel has to consciously supress a frown, because he isn’t completely sure what Lau’s is alluding to yet but has a dawning suspicion that it is something that he isn’t going to like hearing.
“Having lived a very pampered life, belonging to the aristocracy as well as having been gifted with the fortune of very delicate, almost androgynous looks, your porcelain complexion, your small stature, your beautiful features as well as your naturally graceful movements makes you the perfect example of something many people would pay a lot of good money to enjoy.”
Ciel actually balks and then bristles with anger.
“What exactly are you trying to suggest? Do you think that I would be willing to sell myself for the entertainment of adult men rather than keep failing as a servant boy? That I would be willing to offer my body like one of your girls?”
Lau makes a shushing motion with one of his hands while Ran-Mao, who probably perceives that her master is under some verbal threat has risen slightly from her position now, in warning.
As if to distract her, Lau signals for his pipe back before turning his attention to Ciel.
“That is not at all what I’m saying, Earl. Not even close to anything like that. What I’m taking about would be more like the equivalent of what a Geisha does in a respectable tea house. With beauty, charm and artistic skills she entertains guests that pay a good sum for being allowed to be in her presence, enjoy hearing her play an instrument or recite a poem perhaps, be in the company of beauty her customers cannot witness anywhere else. The aim of a geisha is to be entertaining and beautiful, offer the fantasy of something that can never truly be fulfilled in the normal world.”
Ciel opens his mouth to protest that he isn’t a girl for starters and not even remotely resembling a geisha but Lau holds his hand up to silence him while he continues to spin his case.
“The geisha is a thing of Japanese culture which differs from our own Chinese customs and this is not a tea house after all. But the idea of the offered fantasy to those who wish to pay for the privilege is still something that we have in common with the geisha tradition, even if what we offer is slightly different. Some of my girls are not, as you assume, prostitutes in the regular sense. I have a small but slightly more refined group of young women who offer their company to men who wish to pay for it. But many are those customers who have very specific tastes and my small establishment can’t always provide exactly what it is the customer truly desires. You, with your youth, your beauty and your sophisticated manners could very easily fill that void, with the added benefit of you being able to play both boy and girl, depending on what’s being asked for.”
Ciel feels like he is about to choke from the sheer shock of this suggestion.
He knows of course that he could easily pass for a girl, he has used that advantage occasionally, the last time being in Germany, pretending to be Sieglinde Sullivan, but for someone like Lau to comment on this feature, to wish to take advantage of this trait for his seedy business venture…?
Well, it simply too much to stomach.
“So, you expect me to act as some sort of child courtesan, is that it? Girl or boy apparently, whatever your customers fancy.”
He has to take a deep breath so he won’t lose his temper now, anger simmering just beneath the surface.
“Why would I ever agree to degrade myself to something like that?” he finally manages to hiss through clenched teeth.
Lau shakes his head with that infuriating smile still playing on his lips.
For a second it feels exactly like when he is being needled by Sebastian.
Two grown men who derive extreme pleasure from trying to rile Ciel and make him blush, either from anger or embarrassment.
“You misunderstand me, little Earl. It is not degrading at all, and not much would be demanded of you beyond what you already do at those fancy balls and dinner parties you attend. You would basically act as an unreachable fantasy that my customers would get the opportunity to spend a limited amount of time with. They wouldn’t even be allowed to touch you, just be in your presence, perhaps hear you recite a poem or play an instrument? I do believe your late aunt mentioned you being quite skilled playing both violin as well as the piano.”
Ciel frowns at the word skilled, because Sebastian would definitely disagree, especially when it comes to the violin, but Madame Red was family after all, it is the duty of a relative to praise the talents of a cherished nephew, especially in public.
He hardly thinks anyone would pay to hear him butcher the melody of Twinkle twinkle little star which is the only piece he knows without the aid of sheet music.
But perhaps the people who enjoy this kind off arrangement aren’t too picky, maybe it is enough to look pretty.
A shudder runs down his spine as he recalls being put in elaborate clothes by the members of the cult, before being driven away to partake in adult entertainment with those who had paid for the privilege.
He and his brother had been sold off as a pair on many occasions, with the promise of double the fun - double the pleasure as one man had lecherously whispered in their ears.
Those events were all about sexual activities, and Lau claims that this is not in the cards for him this time around, and yet he can’t help but feel apprehensive, because adults are seldom to be trusted.
Lau certainly isn’t, and whenever there is desire and deviant yearnings involved, Ciel knows people tend to break the rules for the sake of getting what they want.
With disgust he recalls the crazed look in Baron Kelvin’s eyes, a man so far gone in his delusional infatuation there was no way to make him see reason anymore.
Lau seems to notice his revulsion and makes a slight shrug with his shoulders while blowing a cloud of smoke that travels towards him like a creature with tendrils, reaching for Ciel’s sensitive nostrils.
“It was only a suggestion, of course. You are perfectly welcome to keep carrying beverages on trays for my less demanding customers, but I thought you were getting tired of changing your clothes every other hour.”
Ciel can’t help but grit his teeth in annoyance, because of course he would wish to never again carry a single tray in his entire life, but if the alternative is to degrade himself like some harlot, he isn’t sure he can go for that option.
As if able to read his trail of thought, Lau sucks on his pipe before offering a smile that almost manages to look benevolent.
“As I said, all you would have to do is look pretty, talk sweet and smile. I know smiling might be something of a stretch for you, but with some practice I believe you could pull it off. I saw you act quite charmingly towards Viscount Druitt less than two years ago, and I believe your acting skills have developed favourably since then. I actually think I caught you smiling quite genuinely towards that author fellow you invited earlier this spring to your weekend of murder and mystery.”
Lau turns his head to face Ran-Mao, as if recalling a particularly enjoyable memory while Ciel frowns at the reminder of a weekend that included all kinds of chaos and turmoil.
Lau is right about him smiling towards Arthur though; he did do that.
Because despite everything, Ciel really liked him and admired his novel about Sherlock Holmes far more than he admired any of the other guests and their talents.
Even if he pretended to not be overly bothered by it, Sebastian had been visibly disturbed by his master’s admiration towards their guest and had gone quite overboard when scaring Arthur off the premises in the end.
For a demon who claims to not be affected by feelings Sebastian has a continuous tendency to contradict those words.
“Do you remember that poisonous snake you battled with, Ran-Mao?” Lau snickers, looking at his most fierce protector. “You looked quite splendid dressed in the Earls coat, even if it was a tight fit. Those were certainly a couple of rather eventful days, with people dying left and right.”
He turns his attention back to Ciel again, a ponderous look in his slanted eyes.
“If memory serves me, wasn’t your butler one of the victims? How intriguing that he managed to recuperate so effectively even from something so final as actual death.”
There is a glimmer in his eyes as he pronounces the word death, and Ciel wonders if he should say something, make up some sort of explanation perhaps, but Lau has apparently dropped the subject already, more interested in what Ciel is going to decide regarding his current proposition.
And to his own surprise, not sure why he actually agrees, but imagining that it won’t be a long-term arrangement anyway, Ciel makes a decision he hopes he won’t end up regretting.
“If I decide to do this, I want it to be kept from Sebastian’s knowledge. I want your word that it will be as you promised, with no nasty surprises or bending of the rules simply because a customer dangles a large bag of coins in front of you. And I want it to be clear that this arrangement will only last until I’ve managed to figure out what to do about my brother. Once I do, I’ll be out of your debt and free to leave.”
“You are not a prisoner here, my dear Earl. You’re are always welcome to leave.”
Ciel sniffs but deigns to not answer such a stupid suggestion.
He knows he could leave if he really wanted to, but the issue is, and remains to be, that he has no place to go, and Lau is well aware of that fact.
“So, what happens now?” Ciel says instead.
Lau puts his pipe down on a black lacquered tray and leans back against the pillows.
“I agree that this is something that should be kept from your butler. It is on account of his overprotectiveness that I never suggested this plan in the first place and I believe he would strongly disapprove of the idea if he found out. So for pretence sake, remain in the clothes you have on for now and act as if you have been serving beverages all evening, while I’ll let my staff spread the word of a new talent amongst those of my clients that would be interested in paying for your time. Tomorrow you’ll practice on your charming traits and be dressed more appropriately for the part. I will make sure that your butler will be otherwise occupied when your first customer arrives.”
Ciel can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement when considering the prospect of doing something hidden from Sebastian’s all too controlling gaze.
The idea of sneaking behind the back of a powerful demon is rather tantalising after all.
Ciel has never really entertained the idea of fooling Sebastian like this, normally they work together and not against each other, but he can’t deny that it feels quite exciting to pull the wool over a demon’s eyes, even if it is something as unsignificant as this.
Technically he isn’t even working against Sebastian, but Ciel knows that Lau is right when he assumes that the demon butler wouldn’t be pleased to hear of this arrangement.
Probably because he didn’t come up with it first.
Or because he is a possessive bastard who likes to have Ciel to himself and would hate the idea of his master being pleasant to anyone, even if it is just for pretend.
Ciel knows how to be charming when he wants to be and when he can gain something from it, and he can just image Sebastian gnashing his teeth if he ever saw his young master flutter his eyelashes and offer a saccharine smile towards anyone behind the demon’s back.
Well, what Sebastian doesn’t know, can hardly harm him, and Ciel is dead set on his butler never finding out what his young master is about to do.