Work Text:
If you don’t pull your head out of your ass and stop moping, Shelly had said, I am going to allow my daughter to dress you.
Kevin hadn’t taken her seriously at the time—after all, Shelly’s daughter was all of seven years old, a little tiny delicate thing, and if there was one thing Kevin was sure about himself, after the two deaths of the Sinclairs and everything in the Abyss, it was that little tiny delicate things broke far too easily in his hands.
But he woke up three days after that conversation to a little tiny delicate girl and a slightly taller, thin boy standing over him, arms full of clothing, and then they proceeded to bicker over what clothes to dress him in.
Kevin stared up at them in horror as, with no fear, the girl took one of his arms and the boy took another, and together they bodily hauled him up out of bed.
“What—what are you doing,” he snapped. “Get away from me!”
“You’re playing dress-up with us today,” the little girl informed him. “Mother said so.”
“Oh, if your mother said so,” he muttered. “Does your mother really like you hanging around me?”
“Why wouldn’t she?” the boy asked. “You don’t seem all that dangerous to me, and if I thought you were dangerous I wouldn’t let you around her.”
“You her knight, or something?” Kevin asked.
“No. I serve Duke Rufus Barma! I’m here to deliver a letter from him to Duchess Rainsworth, and I’m not to return without a response.”
“Grandmother’s adopted him,” said the girl. “He’s my big brother now.”
“I’ll return to Duke Barma eventually,” said the boy.
“Right,” muttered Kevin. He stood; neither child shrunk away in fear, as so many had back decades ago. “Let’s play dress-up, then.”
Kevin was first put into a dress that he was fairly certain had originally belonged to Shelly; then, the children cycled through a series of dresses ranging from maid dresses to noble ladies’ clothing to the outfit of a scullery maid.
“Can’t I please wear men’s clothing now?” Kevin asked, tugging at his lacy skirt. “This itches.”
“That’s because you refused to put on a slip,” the little girl told him.
“May I put on a slip, then?”
“You may!” the girl said cheerfully, and handed one over before pulling her brother away to give Kevin privacy when he changed.
The next dress was a light lavender color, and, though it was silk rather than lace, it floated beautifully around him in a way that reminded Kevin, suddenly and without his consent, of Lady Sinclair. The dress she’d worn to Lady Emily’s christening had been this exact shade of lavender, and he was suddenly and crushingly reminded of all he’d lost, all he’d thrown away, all he’d failed to protect.
Kevin took a deep, shaking breath, before saying, “I’m ready.”
The children piled back in.
“Oh, you’re pretty!” said the girl. She looked delighted with her handiwork, and Kevin couldn’t help but crack a small smile.
“Thank you,” he said. “I do like this one.”
“Lady Shelly will be glad to hear that,” the boy said smugly, pushing up his glasses. “Lady Sharon, let’s move onto the next phase, then.”
Something inside Kevin died a little. “Next phase ?” he said, disgusted. “How long am I going to be your doll?”
Lady Sharon giggled. “If you’d told Mother what sorts of clothes you like, you wouldn’t have to,” she told him.
Kevin sighed theatrically, but allowed the next set of clothing to be tried on him, like a doll. This time, he told Lady Sharon and her brother that he liked every option, in the vain hopes of ending it all soon, though nothing of the sort happened, and he found himself dressing up in different clothes until long after the sun sank below the horizon.
A few days later, Shelly appeared, a smile on her face and a bundle of fresh clothes in her arms.
“Good morning, Xerxes,” she said. “Did you have a good time with Sharon and Reim yesterday?”
“...I certainly had a time,” he grumbled, though he couldn’t help but admit, if only to himself, that it had been a little bit fun.
Shelly smiled, as though she knew what he was thinking. “Sharon certainly enjoyed herself, and I know Reim did, as well—he helped our tailors make these for you.”
“Those kids…” Kevin muttered. “You really shouldn’t allow them around me unsupervised, you know.”
“Why ever not?” Shelly said. “I know you wouldn’t hurt my daughter, or her brother. I trust you.”
“I don’t deserve your trust,” Kevin said. “I’ve killed—”
“I know,” said Shelly. “And I know you won’t do it here. Right?”
“...You’re really too trusting,” he muttered. “But…you’re right. I won’t…not here.”
Nearly two decades later, Xerxes Break was waiting in his room when a knock came at his door. He smirked, standing and opening it to see Sharon and Reim waiting on the other side, arms full of fabric.
“I suppose it’s time for dress-up,” Break said.
“Well, we can’t have you going around in rags all the time, can we?” Sharon shot back as she and Reim came in past Break like they owned the place. “Alright. Today we’ll start with…”