olden times for Tommy

[oohforeshadowing]

The great country pile isn't their speed, really.

Double had their lovely house in London, bought and paid for by their adoptive father - a High Fae of some high regard, who'd been fretting about their lands and accounts falling into strangers' hands when he passed on. It was a heartrending story, of course, and Double was...well, positively delighted to be anything the old man wanted them to be. For the right price.

Shapeshifters have long since had a bad reputation for sliding into the upper echelons this way. They hadn't been in penury to begin with, by any means, but 'lovely house in London' money and 'vast estates with mining wealth and hundreds of rate-paying tenants' money is not the same by some order of magnitude.

The old man died peacefully in his bed, well over a century old, and left the manor house and everything that went with it to their sole heir. Who is going to sell it all, eventually, but it feels tasteless not to even let their 'father's' body grow cold.

They move in after the last of their furniture has been transported, and lets the housekeeper give them the tour. They cut quite the figure: long blond hair pinned up in curls, a jacket and blouse tailored tightly to a corseted waist, the snug high-waisted breeches favoured by most males. Their tail is the most exposed part of them and the woman they're following keeps eyeing it like she's not sure if it's obscene or not.

"...show you the stables, your grace," she says, as she walks ahead to the outbuildings.

"Ah. I suppose we ought."

Comments

[bleak_midwinter]

He nods. "I have, a few times. Local shows, of course."

[oohforeshadowing]

"I love the theatre," they tell him, sounding positively dreamy about it. "I love watching an actor of tremendous talent treading the boards, inhabiting a role, making it their own. And to be entirely honest? Most of my peers in London spend their lives trying to play some role or other. Someone cleverer, more confident, more competent than themselves. Tragically, none of them are very good at it and it's grown exhausting to watch."

[bleak_midwinter]

He lets that sink in, impressed at their way with words. Looks like there's more to them than meets the eye.

"Are you good at it? Did you learn how to be?"

[oohforeshadowing]

Honestly, it's a pleasant surprise that he's even venturing to ask. They rest their head against his back and make a soft, thoughtful sound.

"I would suggest I've never really tried," they tell him. "Not from day to day, at least. But perhaps that means I've simply...disappeared into the role."

[bleak_midwinter]

"What's the role, then?"

Heir to a fortune? Rakish charmer, shamelessly flirting with everyone? He has some guesses, but that they may realize that it's a role endears them to him.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Oh, take your pick. Outrageous flirt, flagrant gossip, eligible bachelor - silly soft Londoner who can't so much as ride a horse? That would be a new one," they chuckle. "And you'll have some of your own, of course. You're playing the stoic domestic with me, but I'm sure you're a different person among friends."

[bleak_midwinter]

That makes him smile - the stoic domestic is a role he can live with. Keeps him out of sight and out of trouble.

"Who says I have friends at all, Your Grace?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"Oh, dear," they murmur. "Are you being so overworked you can't even venture out for a drink on occasion? You should have a few friends with fewer than four legs, I think."

[bleak_midwinter]

"I might share some of your community's ideas on humans," he says lightly - he doesn't, at all, but wouldn't that be a nice explanation for his behavior?

"In either case, if I'm the stoic domestic, what does it matter to you?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"It doesn't," they say, sounding almost baffled by the notion that it might. "I just find it...interesting, you know? If one has all these roles to play, to move between...who's to say which is real? Are any of them our true selves?"

[bleak_midwinter]

Ah - just suggesting things casually, then, as if the silly human doesn't know that it's good to have friends. He guides the horse sharply left, to take them to the real edge of the estate, separated from the next by distant hedges.

"I'm fairly sure I know who I am, within the roles I have. I can know who I am and still be something different to other people."

[oohforeshadowing]

Honestly, Tommy, they were just offering you extra time off.

"That's fortunate for you," they say, sounding a little distant for a moment. It passes. "You strike me as a man with very firm....convictions."

[bleak_midwinter]

"...I suppose I am. I've lived in the same place, done the same work, for over a decade. I've had time to stand still and consider. Nothing I would have done if I'd stayed in a city my whole life."

He thinks so, at least. Who knows what would have become of him.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Oh? And how would the city-dwelling Mr. Shelby be so very different, do you think?" they wonder.

[bleak_midwinter]

"...I was responsible for the lives of others, there. I may have lost myself in them, and that responsibility, instead of understanding myself as I am."

[oohforeshadowing]

Double hums their interest, but doesn't ask about that change in his circumstances. If they were family? Maybe they're still alive and well - maybe they aren't. Maybe they're still on good terms, or...

"Is that why you prefer the company of your horses?" they tease, instead. "They help your...self-awareness?

[bleak_midwinter]

"And they're so bloody quiet," he says, taking a chance and joining them in this game - Tommy the long-suffering stoic, Trouble the happy-go-lucky socialite.

[oohforeshadowing]

Double chuckles their approval.

"Speaking of which. It feels like there's nobody around for miles, here. How far are we from the house?"

[bleak_midwinter]

He turns the horse around to show them - they've been riding for a good while now, and since it's up a hill the house is almost invisible.

"You've inherited a lot of land. The edge is right over there - I can take you along it now, and circle back."

[oohforeshadowing]

"I'd like that very much. Please - lead the way."

They're still lightly rested against him, one long ear pressed against his back.

[bleak_midwinter]

He does as he's asked and takes them along the entire estate. It really is impressive, with streams and hills and patches of woods for hunting, some roads they receive toll for, a water mill, and little farms scattered about. When the sky starts to get overcast he urges the horse on a little more, wanting to get home before the rainstorm that seems to be coming.

"Shall I bring you back to the main entrance?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"....You could."

Their fingers trace the collar of his jacket, fingertips barely making contact with his skin.

"Or, we could get caught out here by the weather for a little while."

There's a hunting blind close by; it's not an unrealistic proposition.

[bleak_midwinter]

"You're in your finery, Your Grace," he protests, mildly - while actually leading the horse towards the hunting blind. He's not going to go against their wishes, and truthfully he's melted a little. They're not so bad, so far, and he no longer thinks they're trying to trick him into messing something up so they can get rid of him.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Let me worry about my clothes, darling," they murmur - well aware of this change in direction, pleased that this hasn't triggered an argument. "It'll be fine."

[bleak_midwinter]

"They'll be worried at the manor. You're unpredictable, that makes them very nervous."

Tommy... doesn't sound nervous. Thunder rolls in the distance, and he soothes the horse with a hand on her neck.