Beowulf - Prologue
AN: Helllloooo, all! This is my first Black Butler/ Kuroshitsuji fanfic, and to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure how comfortable I am with the actual series, being a devoted Christian. If you've got a problem with that, shut up. I don't want to hear it. Aaanyywaayyy, as such, this story will probably be a bit more kid safe than the actual show, but of course Sebastian will still be a demon, etc., etc. but I might throw in a good angel or two as OCs that don't really do much - like Ronald Knox. Other than that, not much will change... except for everyone concerning Harry Potter... So yeah, the expected stuff. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this!
Also, be warned - Harry is Master of Death, so he is pretty much ultimate - but he doesn't tend to act it. Also, Ciel is occasionally OOC around Harry. Oh, and Harry isn't Harry. Any questions?
Ciel first met Beo L. Wulf in captivity.
He was 10, and had just witnessed his home and parents burn to nothing. They tossed him in a cage, empty save for one other - an eleven year old boy with messy raven hair and eyes so green they put emeralds to shame.
"Welcome to hell on earth, kid. I go by Wulf, Beo Wulf," said the older boy, sticking out a hand grimy with blood.
"Like in the story?" hesitantly asked the still somewhat innocent child.
"Yeah," grinned the other boy, his smirk morphing into an honest grin. "Like the hero. Shall I be your hero, little lord, young Ciel?" The blue-black haired boy flung himself at the raven wrapping his arms around the older and sobbing into his chest.
When they came for them, to brand them and burn them, it was Beo who fought the hardest, Beo who knocked at least nine of the men unconscious before they had managed to get a brand on the boy... directly over his right eye. Yet when they turned to Ciel, to mark him as their slave, they were relentlessly pushed back time and time again by Beo - by the strange, golden light the boy summoned and flung at the kidnappers, knocking them off their feet, sending them flying through walls, snapping necks and breaking skulls.
Eventually they gave up, intent on coming back when Beo had been moved elsewhere. Yet as soon as the men had left the cage, the older raven turned to Ciel, who was staring at the carnage with wide eyes as he trembled.
"Heroes are killers, little lord. Remember that." The blue haired child nodded slowly before tentatively moving towards the emerald eyed "hero" and clinging to the older boy.
Weeks passed, and each time the kidnappers came back, Beo would send them flying. Ciel watched, and he learned. He learned that the kidnappers did not know Beo's name - unlike Ciel, he was just a convenience kidnapping. The cult took to calling the raven "Hero," based off of snippets of conversation they overheard. The young Earl learned that the boy called the golden blasts and whips were created by "magic," and that the golden light in general was his "aura." Ciel learned to call on his aura, too. It was as silver as the moonlight, and for some reason, Beo had started laughing hysterically when he saw it, repeating, "Oh joy, another prophecy! Gold and Silver auras, huh? He-He-He...!"
Ciel feared for Beo's sanity, sometimes.
A month later, the kidnappers decided to try a new tactic. They came, taunting the duo about their plan to split them up, to sell Beo as a slave and use the young Earl to summon a demon.
The blue-green eyed teen scoffed at them, but as soon as they left, he began shaking, automatically turning to Beo for comfort.
"They will not hurt you, young Ciel. In order for me to protect you, I must mark you. Not as they marked me, but a mark nonetheless. Do you accept?"
Eyes of sky and forest met before the young Earl nodded, allowing his Hero to hold him close. "Give me your left hand, little lord." The pale hand of the young earl seemed so frail and small against the other's, which gave a small squeeze before covering the top of the younger's hand. "Do you, Ciel Phantomhive, accept me as your Hero?"
"I do," whispered the young boy hesitantly, encouraged by Beo's small grin.
"Do you, Ciel Phantomhive, accept me as your guide through both darkness and light?"
"I do," he said again, stronger this time.
"Do you, Ciel Phantomhive, accept me as the guardian of your soul, mind, and body?"
The blue-eyed boy glanced down at the black of his pale hand, and saw a mark glowing gold - it was a circle inside of a triangle, with a straight line splitting both shapes in half.
"Then let it be known that I, the Master of Death, am Ciel Phantomhive's Hero, from this day forward."
The guards returned, yelling and scrambling as the building shook.
"Close your eyes, Ciel, and count to ten..."
When Ciel opened his eyes again, the little lord saw his hero being dragged away, weighed down by heaps of rusty iron chains, and a crazed grin on his face.
"Don't worry, little lord!" he cried out, his voice harsh and teetering on the edge of insanity. "You're mine, Ciel Phantomhive! You are mine, and I am yours! No one will ever hurt you again!" Those words echoed through the cavern, filled with cages of desperate children. Yet the young Earl Phantomhive barely heard his hero's - his friend's - cries. Instead, he focused on the blazing emerald eyes, the pain glinting in their depths and reflecting in the Cheshire Cat smile, and the barbs cutting into the skin of Beo from the chains that had been wrapped about him, and he knew hate.
When the cult members returned sneering and laughing, Ciel decided then and there, that he would get his revenge. For his parents, himself, and his hero.
After all, every hero needs an anti-hero and a villain, do they not?
AN: Sorry about the short chapter! Next one we meet Bassy! I need three reviews to update!