Sebastian x Child! Reader: Her Butler, Proud

Sebastian x Child! Reader  
Her Butler, Proud 

It was nearing twilight as the last fractals of light disappeared into the nighttime clouds of a periwinkle sky. Carriages clattered noisily through the streets of London chauffeuring the elite of society to the nearest theaters and other forms of entertainment.

From the depths of the large city a single stately house sat in mild splendor, with warm light wafting through large clear-cut windows. From within the home, a couple finished dressing to the nines and made their way down to the entryway where their Butler awaited to help them into their coats.

The Master of the house- a nearly twenty-five year old Ciel Phantomhive- regally shrugged into his overcoat, before holding out his arm to his wife. With an intelligent light blue eye the man gazed at her, before once more returning his attention to the statuesque figure dressed in black.

“We’ll return after the opera has concluded, Sebastian,” the older Ciel said commandingly. “At which time I expect (F/n) to be in bed.”

The butler gave a small, tight-lipped smile before bowing his head to his master, “Very good, master.”

From her place on Ciels’ arm, the Lady Phantomhive looked worried. “Please Sebastian. . . Take good care of her. I’m afraid she won’t do well without us here. . . We've never left her alone before.”

“All the more reason to,” Ciel answered firmly. “(F/n) must become independent, Elizabeth. She is five years old, soon to be six. She needs to learn how to get along without us. We won’t always be able to be there for her, so she must be able to stand on her own two feet.”

Elizabeth didn't look comforted by her husband’s reasoning, and looked ready to argue- for the hundredth time that evening- when Sebastian interrupted with his hand placed over his chest in a respectful gesture.

“My lady Elizabeth needn't worry herself- no harm shall come to Mistress (F/n) while I stand watch. You have my word that I shan't leave her for a moment.”

Finally, a smile broke through on Elizabeth’s face and she nodded her gratitude to the composed butler, while Ciel sighed in exasperation.

“You coddle her too much,” the Guard-Dog stated to the Butler, though surprisingly his voice held no true venom.

“Come sir,” Sebastian said cheerily. “If I didn't spoil my Master’s daughter properly, what kind of a Butler would I be?”

Elizabeth laughed, before answering, “A butler not worth his salt?”

Ciel sighed again as Sebastian moved to open the door for them, but the hint of a smile didn't escape the butler’s notice.

“Exactly, Milady,” he replied. “Now please be sure to enjoy yourselves. I assure you that all will be right when you return.”

Ciel nodded and from the shine of his one good eye, it was obvious that he was holding the demon to his word.

“Keep her happy and safe, Sebastian. . . That’s an order.”

As the demon butler quietly shut the door behind his Master and Mistress he couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

“Indeed . . . my young lord.”


*

*

You were excited beyond measure as you riffled through your closet, shifting through the endless dresses, shifts, skirts, and lady-like jackets. When you had overheard your parents getting ready for the opera, you had quickly scuttled away to get ready too, excited for the chance to prove yourself. And as you had chosen the dress you now wore, you had minded your mother’s example- that one always had to look ones’ best when going out into public.

Now that your dress was fully in place, your hair was combed, and your stockings were pinned up, you moved to finish your ensemble. With a happy cry, you found what you were looking for, and yanked it off the hanger to inspect it closer. Once your (e/c) eyes found it to be to your liking, you quickly slipped it on over the light violet dress you currently wore.

The jacket was truly something to behold. Made of deep blue silks and inlaid with countless flashing bobbles and bangles that glittered when the light hit them just right, the coat seemed otherworldly. It was the main reason it was your favorite frock; though it having been a birthday gift from Uncle Soma and Agni had also helped to hoist it to favorite status as well. Not that you’d ever admit such a thing aloud, seeing as your daddy wouldn’t have allowed it.

You twirled once in experimentation, and watched in fascination as a lighted rainbow splashed against the back wall of the closet. You nodded to yourself, pleased with the result, and were in the process of putting on your beautifully buckled shoes when you heard someone call your name.

“Mistress (F/n)? Where are you?”

You smiled at the familiar voice of your butler, and instantly called back to him.

“In here!”

You finished slipping on your shoes and turned around so that you were facing the door of the closet- ready to be seen- and waited like a proper lady. After a mere moment more, a dark silhouette appeared in your line of vision and you moved into action.

Dropping into a low curtsy you greeted your butler in the expected fashion of a noble. “I’m ready to go, Sebastian, if you’ll help me to the carriage.”

From the doorway, Sebastian studied you- once again noting how precocious you were for a human of only five years- before he lifted an amused eyebrow.

“My apologies, my lady. . . But I fear I am ignorant. Where is it that you intend to go?”

You lifted up from the curtsy to look at him, “To the opera with mama and daddy.”

Sebastian gazed at you fully before he shook his head. “Your parents have already left, Mistress.”

Your smile wavered and then fully drooped, and your bottom lip began to quiver pitifully. The news of your parents’ departure made your heart clench painfully in your chest as the cold grips of fear began to entangle you. Never before had you felt panic like this, and it nearly made your knees buckle. Your little mind reeled in horror, as you gasped fearfully, trying to think through your innocence to understand what had happened.  

They had gone without you. . . They had left you and Sebastian behind without a word. . . They had forgotten you.

“They- they. . . They l-left without m-me? . . .”

Hot, salty tears began to fall from your young eyes, but you quickly tried to hide them. Daddy didn't like it when you cried, so you always fought your tears when they came. But right now, they wouldn’t stop no matter how much you willed them too.

Angrily, you raised your chubby little hands to your face, and rubbed the incriminating water away viciously. But with all your attempts, the tears wouldn’t cease.

As you were about to lift your frock sleeve to your leaky eyes, you felt two strong arms reached out for you and pull you close. Your butler now knelt before you at your level, offering comfort and security- which you took gladly.  Leaning into the hug, you cuddled into Sebastian’s immaculately covered chest without a thought, wrapping your child arms around his frame as far as they would go- which wasn't very far at all.

Sebastian was warm and smelled of vanilla and your daddy’s favorite tea: Earl Gray. And as you breathed in the familiar scents, slowly but surely your thoughts of abandonment and exclusion began to fade. Even though mommy and daddy weren't there, you still had your butler with you, and that was enough. Because deep down, you knew that he would never leave you by choice.

Above you, Sebastian chuckled deeply, and you felt encouraged by the sound. The movement of his laugh vibrated against your cheek, tickling you, and a small smile appeared on your teary face.

“You always fight so hard to be brave, my lady. So very, very hard,” he said approvingly, running his gloved hand through your (h/c) hair in an almost tender gesture. You gave a shuddering breath and latched your small fingers tighter to the butlers’ coat, thinking to hold him in place.

“It’s n-not enough,” you whispered against the soft blackness of Sebastian’s clothed chest. “I’m not brave like daddy wants me to be. I can’t be brave. . .”

You stopped talking, for your five year old brain was unable to find the words that would express how you felt. You were sad and more than a little frustrated, but you couldn't say so aloud. You wanted to make your father proud, but somehow you never met his expectations . . . No matter how hard you tried, you could never make him happy.

Firmly, yet seemingly more gentle than a butterflies’ wing, Sebastian pulled you away from him so that he could look at you, and clicked his tongue. “Oh dear . . . this won’t do, Mistress. It simply won’t do.”

Then, the Butler took his handkerchief out of his inner pocket and began to softly dab at your face- which you stood still for- and he quietly addressed you in dulcet tones.

“There are many different kinds of bravery, my lady. Yours is the most unique type of all. You observe and learn despite the result being different than you expect, and you always try to help others no matter what it might cost you.  . . Your capacity to love is most endearing, if not slightly overwhelming.”

You listened with wide eyes as Sebastian continued to clean you up, your mind racing as the butler talked.

“Your father is impressed by your efforts, little one,” he stated sincerely, with another smile. “But it isn't in his nature to applaud or praise. You must trust that he is proud of you, without proof or validation.”

You gave the butler a grin, for his insights had made you feel better about yourself and your daddy. But there was still something that bothered you . . . Something that you needed to know. So, you reached out your little hand and slowly placed it against Sebastian’s strong cheek. Looking straight into his red-wine colored eyes, you gazed at him steadily.

“Are. . . Are you proud of me, Sebastian?”

For a moment after you had touched Sebastian a sliver of shock had arisen in his strangely colored eyes, but the foreign emotion quickly gave way to contemplation. Sebastian never lied- and thus you knew he would give you a true answer.

The butler was silent for several long moments, before he raised his own white gloved hand to cup your smaller one. Holding it gently in his own, the handsome figure seemed to really ponder the question; then with affection showing through his usually calm features, Sebastian nodded.

“Yes, my lady. For you constantly surprise me.”

Your (e/c) eyes twinkled hopefully, “Really?”

“Indeed so, my young Mistress,” the butler replied, before he once more stood, regal and straight as a board towering over you- though he had no intention of intimidating you.

“Now,” Sebastian said. “Since you are dressed up so prettily, I suggest we retire downstairs.”

The subject change was completely instantaneous and your confusion was absolute as you looked up at the butler, with your forehead crinkled.

“What?”

“Why, my lady! We've a ball to attend! That and the evening’s tea before bed,” Sebastian stated merrily, purposefully making you giggle. He was so adamant about it that you quickly nodded, your earlier fears completely forgotten.

“Let’s go, Sebastian!”

“Very good, Mistress (F/n).”

Upon saying this, the black butler took the child’s hand in his own and together they exited the closet, making their way down to the ballroom. Here they passed the next two or more hours, dancing before they retired to drinking tea in the drawing room- in the regular fashion of London’s high society. And as they had their tea-party, neither butler nor child noticed that Elizabeth and Ciel Phantomhive had returned home from the opera, to observe them from the doorway of the parlor. Nor did they see the smile that rose upon the young Earl’s face as he beheld his child playing alongside the demon that had long since taken the place of his father and friend.

But in that moment of sweet simplicity, both Demon and Earl were prouder than words could ever relay.