Black Swan Rising - A Black Butler Fan-Fic

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The days dragged on without so much as a clue as to our disappearing gentlemen. We were forced to go about our days as normal students until enough suspicion could be drawn to fully investigate.

I was racked with nightmares each time I rested my eyes. When I awoke one night, I was troubled by visions of my induction into Weston. Johan Agares, the vice-principal of the school, made me swear to abide by the rules and traditions of the college and sign a book to seal the deal. In so doing, I was now obligated to obey like a good little dog. However, the dream from the dark had me signing over my soul, my wrists bound with shackles and my heart taken from my chest. I woke with sweat dripping down my back.

When I told the young lord of my dream, he revealed a strange moment of his own induction ceremony. I'd heard from him that the vice-principal fell down the stairs and bled profusely. What I wouldn't have given to have seen that firsthand...

He also mentioned his asking to speak with the principal of this school. However, the P4 and the vice both stated that the Principal was never to be seen. It made us curious about him, to say the least.

At 6:30, I woke to the sound of Sebastian's voice. I was tired and overwhelmed by my previous nightmares. I sat up and stretched hard, taking in the last moments of freedom before I had to dress. Because I was an upper year, I got a room to myself complete with bookshelves, a desk, and my very own bed. It was comfortable and quaint. I could afford to unwind so long as the door stayed closed.

7:00 brought tea and snacks. 7:30 was the start of classes, which Midford assisted me with once again. 9:00 was finally breakfast, and I sat next to Ciel during this time. We ropes into another discussion about the traditions of the school.

"Fag?" we said simultaneously.

McMillan was explaining the fags of Weston College, and we were hopelessly confused. "Fag!" he exclaimed with excitement. "When breakfast is over, it's 'fag' time! It's one of Weston's characteristic traditions where the lower years have to help out one of the upper years."

I raised an eyebrow slightly. "Help out?"

"Like cleaning their rooms or ironing their uniforms," McMillan explained cheerily, "and preparing hot water bottles at night."

"In other words," Ciel mumbled, "acting as their butler..." He looked rather irritated as he said softly under his breath, "Another annoying tradition..."

I smiled faintly and tapped his leg under the table. He glanced at me, and I stuck my tongue out discreetly behind a biscuit. He glared faintly, and I laughed again.

"Do the prefects have fags too?" Ciel asked casually.

"Of course!" McMillan replied. "Bluer, the prefect of Blue House, has Clayton as his fag."

I remember Clayton all too well... The way he shoved my master down like an animal and blamed tradition. I'll need to get on his good side though.

"A fag is a little different from a butler in that the upper year will help out their fag sometimes as well," McMillan continued. "It's kind of like having a brother within the school."

"A brother..." the young lord said quietly. I glanced at him and wondered what he was thinking.

"Ah, and the fags of the prefects are kind of special!" he added. "They can wear the dormitory flower on their chest, just like the P4! And if you get permission, you can cross the lawn! And," — I listened a little closer to this last bit — "I've heard you can attend the Midnight Tea Party organized by the Principal!" He mentioned something Else about the P4, but I was more interested in Ciel's reaction. He got this look on his face, the one that said he was devising a plan.