Deep way down in your heart
You're burning yearning for some

Kenny Loggins, "Footloose"

The biggest problem she faced in Britain was not, as she had expected, her manners. Sebastian went over the very basics of the modern world's etiquette with her on the way to the island empire, and when she was settled with the Midfords the marchioness had been thorough in her studies to the point where Sieglinde was convinced that she would have the very best manners in the whole empire when the blonde finally gave her approval.

Nor was it fitting in. The cover story of her being a distant cousin of a Lord Diedrich sent over to study in Britain had been considered acceptable, given the Midford family's actual connection with the German noble. No one questioned the dark-haired German girl's claim to being related to a man not often seen in British society, and Elizabeth made things extremely smooth for her with her vibrant acceptance of the dark-haired girl with an odd gait and broken English.

Her biggest problem was moving, and she knew she was foolish for having forgotten about that particular dilemma. Sieglinde no longer had Wolfram to carry her around, and while the lack of constant binding was beginning to loosen her feet, she knew that they would never heal to the point of returning to their original state before they had been broken. They would forever be deformed, proof that once she had been cast in the role of the Green Witch of Werewolf Forest.

Occasionally, the Marquis, who had all but adopted her into the Midford family, would carry both her and Elizabeth in a considerable show of strength. In those times she was somewhat free, though even the Leader of the British Knights couldn't carry his two girls around forever. It was considered inappropriate, especially for a girl of her age who wasn't even a relative of his.

Here, she had no witch balloons, no loyal Wolf to carry her to wherever she wished. She was well and truly immobile most times, when her wish to break out of the small cage her world had been had finally come true and she had places she could go to. Her feet were still too tender, too useless to walk on properly. The shoes made especially for her feet helped, but only marginally. Walking hurt, and it tired her out far too quickly.

Due to her 'condition', Sieglinde had to rely walking stick, like the ones gentlemen used. She could only use it when she was at the Midford Manor, though, and when they didn't have company. This rule she imposed on herself for the sake of the family that had taken her in. Well-respected as they were, she had learned that society was filled with vultures hungry for gossip, just as she had once believed that men were filled with nothing but lust.

The last thing she wanted to do was drag the Midford name through the mud by toting around a walking stick like a man. When parties were hosted at the manor – and, due to the Marquis having a high position with plenty of contacts in high-ended society, there were a great number of parties held – she chose to stand to the side, as out of sight as possible, and retired as early as she could, excusing herself on account of 'not feeling well'. When she didn't 'feel well' even Lizzie, who always encouraged her to be present at parties to learn more about society, let her retreat back to the safe privacy of her room.

She didn't have to leave. She could have stayed, and portrayed herself as a shy wallflower too nervous to speak broken English. She had certainly perfected the act a long time ago, after learning how to hold her tongue.

She chose not to stay because she couldn't bear the sight of ladies fluttering around, dancing or walking or moving. Ladies in the modern world, a place that wasn't a village enclosed from everything else filled with no one but women, weren't to be free.

They seemed a lot freer to her, with their functioning feet. Sieglinde couldn't quite look at them as she had the women back in the village. Back when she had been Sieglinde Sullivan, Lord and Green Witch of the Forest, the women around her could move freely with their healthy feet, but they had depended, had looked upon her to protect them. She had been given responsibility and authority with her bound and broken feet, and she had been proud of them.

Now she just had broken feet that she felt annoyed at sometimes. Now she was just Sieglinde Diedrich, a girl sent by a distant relative to a distant land who liked to study the illnesses that ravaged humanity and how to combat them, although that last part wasn't known by socialites coming to enjoy parties held by one of the most prestigious families in English society.

This time, the party was held to celebrate Edward Midford's birthday. The eldest son's birthday had coincided with a vacation from his school, and now he was home in time for a party.

Sieglinde had offered her congratulations earlier on; she only ever saw him a handful of times due to him spending most of his time at his boarding school, and didn't feel comfortable enough to stay with him much longer. Before the painful lessons of etiquette and social norms had been drilled into her head by his mother, Sieglinde had flirted with him in a manner similar to – but not quite as forthcoming – as the one she had attempted to use on Sebastian and Ciel, back in the village. He hadn't understood her words, as she had spoken German, but he had gotten the basic message.

That time, she had learned that the elder Midford was an incredibly prudish young man.

After the lessons that had been ingrained into her by the marchioness, she had been too mortified to face him properly in conversation as she realized what her past self's actions had meant. He had apparently felt the same, and they had never truly talked or spent time together in each other's company.

Ciel was also present, but the young earl had most of his attention held by Lizzie. Her brother seemed irritated at having his sister's attention stolen from him, but friends and guests held him back from charging towards the younger boy and stealing her back.

Sieglinde leaned against the wall behind the curtain where she hid herself. Her feet hurt. Her hands, bracing against the wall, wished for the grip and support of the cane.

Perhaps now would be a good time to sneak away to her room. She could always have one of the servants bring her food from the party, and spend the rest of the night in quiet reading a book. The marquis and marchioness had bought her another armful of new books with fascinating information on cures and medicines, and Lizzie was always glad to recommend the latest romance novels.

She peeked out from behind the curtain. The guests were distracted, scattered across the ballroom and having a good time. Now would be her chance.

Sieglinde slipped out from her hiding place just as Edward Midford was pushed by a classmate that had been invited to the party, and stumbled into her.

She had been moving. Her feet could barely brace herself, let alone the weight of a young man. He had fallen onto her.

They both fell to the ground, her with a cry and him with a muffled curse.

Her backside hurt, but it was made miniscule to the blood rushing to her face. Everyone in the ballroom was staring at her. Everyone!

This wouldn't do – she couldn't sneak away while everyone held her as the center of attention. She would have to hide again, and wait for another opportunity. Surely they would forget, and then eventually lose interest?

Edward helped her up with heartfelt apologies. He let her take his arm and then discreetly pulled her up before she had to make another spectacle of herself struggling to get up to her hurting feet, apologizing the entire time and shifting the blame all onto himself. Well, himself and his friend, who had pushed him.

The friend apologized as well. She nodded in acknowledgement, face still too burning for her to be nice or coy, and tried to slip away, but Edward was holding onto her.

Sieglinde tugged lightly at first, but he didn't seem to get the message. She would have resorted to harder tugging for him to relinquish her arm, and by extension herself, but he chose to start talking, promising that he would be at her side for the whole night as a way to make up for his hideous mistake. He looked like he had forgotten about their first encounter, or at least was willing to wipe the slate clean and let the past die.

There were still people whose attention was diverted at her. She didn't want to disgrace the Midfords by causing a scene at their own party, or the absent Lord Diedrich that had been kind enough to let her use his name for a new life outside of the world of lies she had lived in so far.

And, she didn't want to avoid a member of the family that had taken her in. If he was willing to start anew, well, so was she. She smiled like she had practiced in the mirror and nodded.

For the rest of the night, Edward all but carried her with one arm somehow, managing to support her entire weight as he swept her around, introducing and acquainting her to all the guests. His school friends were charmingly funny with him around, instead of awkward or stony. Knights welcomed him like a son and her like a lady they had known all her life, laughing with jolly kindness.

"And you know Earl Phantomhive," Edward said. When she curtseyed to the best of her abilities for the sake of formalities, he switched arms. One minute he had been supporting her on her left side, and then he was on her right, holding her other arm as tightly as he had been her left. Sieglinde hadn't even realized the change until he had finished adjusting his firm but not painful grip.

When she turned to him, he gave her a quick wink before sweeping back into a disapproving spiel at Ciel about his sister.

That sly –

She found herself grinning widely, and it was lucky that the current guests she was speaking to were people who had known her before she had learned manners of the modern world, because she couldn't stop. And for once she didn't even mind that before tonight, there had been a barrier of awkwardness that had stopped her from interacting with her companion.

When the party was over and the guests were either leaving or retreating to the guest rooms for the night, she paused before she released her grip on Edward's arm. "Thank you," she said, and she had the courage to look him in the eyes as she said so.

He was blushing. "It was no problem," he said.

She gave him a devious grin – old habits that surfaced over even the habits ingrained into her by the marchioness – before entering her room. He had been kind enough to all but carry her to the entrance of her bedroom even after an entire evening of supporting virtually all of her weight.

Her maid helped her change to sleeping attire, and then she was crawling into her bed.

The party, she thought with her feet hurting much less than she had expected, had been fun.

an 1: Sieglinde Sullivan has become one of my most favourite characters, and I got infected with the urge to ship her with Edward Midford.

an 2: special thanks to Indochine, who introduced me to this (crack) pairing (that hopefully becomes canon) as well as sharing some of her head canons with me. They're absolutely wonderful and I eagerly await the day she publishes her Kuroshitsuji stories.

an 3: let's pretend that Sieglinde has absorbed the English language like a boss/linguistic sponge (hey she's a genius. that's my story/excuse and I'm sticking to it).

an 4: canon-compliant up to chapter 99.