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"Butler?"
The bodyguard looked up, trying not to let his concern show. Artemis was leaning against the frame of the open doorway, posture deceptively casual. To Butler, however, the tension in his charge's shoulders stood out immediately, and that made him very nervous: the last time he'd seen this amount of anxiety in Artemis' eyes, the boy's mother had been dying. Of course, Artemis wasn't a boy anymore. He was a young man in his twenties, and old enough to sort his own problems out, but that didn't mean that Butler never felt a certain fatherly protectiveness from time to time.
After a brief silence, Butler set down the duster. Whatever old portrait he'd been cleaning could wait.
"Yes, Artemis?"
He found himself acutely aware of how vulnerable the 21-year-old seemed, eyes flicking down to the floor and hands clasped behind his back like an errant schoolboy. Funny, that. This was the first time he'd thought of his charge as boyish since... well, a long time ago. But then, that was only to be expected when Artemis had never gotten the chance to grow up like a normal child.
In more ways than Butler knew, as it turned out.
Artemis met Butler's gaze, then, and visibly took several deep breaths. "I have something to tell you, old friend."
The bodyguard leaned against the wall, making a conscious effort to appear relaxed as well. Go on, then, he prompted with a silent nod.
"I don't think I... am a man. In fact, I'm certain that I don't identify as a man. I haven't for a long time."
This was certainly not what Butler had been expecting. He contained his reaction to a startled blink. Surely Artemis could do without a barrage of questions, after all, though it was impossible to banish them from his mind now that they'd been raised:
What does this mean? What are you, then? How long have you felt like this? Does anybody else know?
And, traitorously: Why didn't you feel like you could tell me sooner?
"Have..." - a pause as Artemis licked his (her? their?) lips - "Have you ever heard of nonbinary people? People who don't identify strictly as men or women?"
Oh. Butler nodded at that. The term rung a bell; he hadn't done any research on the subject, but he'd heard of those people before. Didn't they usually have ridiculous hairdos and tattoos and things? It was hard to reconcile that kind of image with Artemis, who wore expensive suits and loafers every day.
"So," the bodyguard asked, almost wincing at how awkward his own voice sounded, "you don't feel like a man or a woman? You're nonbinary too?"
"Correct, old friend." Relief radiated from Artemis as... they went on, the words falling off their tongue as though a dam had broken. "I find myself somewhere in the middle, so to speak. Nonbinary encompasses much more than that, as a label, but I feel comfortable with it as a general term."
A pregnant pause ensued, then, as they took in Butler's expression - or, more accurately, his lack thereof.
"Should I- Did this make you uncomfortable? I'm aware that it takes a mental adjustment at first, so if you'd like some time to think-"
Butler felt his heart clench at the way the relief in his charge's eyes evaporated as quickly as it had come. It had so clearly taken a lot of courage for Artemis to tell him, and then he'd ruined it by being too distant, too slow to reassure them.
They turned as though to flee, shoulders hunching, but stopped when Butler set his hand on their back.
"I only have two questions." The tiniest of flinches beneath his hand: he made sure to keep his voice calm and gentle, as though dealing with a spooked animal. "What would you like me to call you? Do you have a name you like better than Artemis?"
Their voice was a whisper. "Ciardha."
A name that meant "black" or "dark haired". The aptness made Butler smile.
"It's good to have a chance to call you by your real name."
Even if it would probably take him a while to get used to the change, that was a small price to pay for the way Ciardha's entire face lit up as they processed his words. Their smile was so brilliant Butler almost expected the whole room to brighten.
And that told him all he needed to know.
"Thank you, old friend. Thank you."
It occurred to Butler that this was an odd amount of relief. Surely Ciardha knew they were safe with him, no matter what? But then again, people as a whole could be cruel to those who were different.
He put it out of his mind.
For now.
FIN.