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]

Tommy grimaces and looks at his boots. "He seems to think so, too, Your Grace. He was quite furious."

[oohforeshadowing]

"As well he should be." Their tail snaps unhappily against the side of the chair. "I'll call off the work until this is...addressed. The next volley will have someone killed. They'll still be paid, of course, none of this is their fault. Please don't call me Your Grace when we're alone and fully dressed together."

[bleak_midwinter]

He looks up at that in surprise, a little taken aback.

"I've never called you anything else. My apologies."

It's true - he's never used their actual name, not in bed, not while riding. Maybe the difference is that they're not having fun now.

[oohforeshadowing]

"...No, you're right. I apologise." They sweep a hand through the strands of hair falling into their face, and smile weakly at him. "But I would prefer Double. If we're alone."

[bleak_midwinter]

He takes a step forward, frowning, and quietly asking for permission to touch them as he reaches out with one hand.

"Alright. Double. I didn't know. Would you like me to ride out and tell the men?"

[oohforeshadowing]

They nod, and reach for his hand, lightly cradling it against their face.

"...Yes. Please. I'll make sure Mr Lancer is aware. Would you..."

They struggle to make eye contact, feeling uncommonly vulnerable.

"Would you come back here when you're done? Or, ah, I could go to you."

[bleak_midwinter]

He strokes his thumb over their cheekbone, frowning in concern. He's never seen them like this, and he worries for them. The thought catches him by surprise, but he doesn't show it.

"Of course. I can come back here if you like. Just - tell Mr Lancer, perhaps, so I can come through the front door instead of through the kitchen and play relay before I can come up?"

[oohforeshadowing]

They chuckle softly, and nod, then let go of his hand.

"I'll tell him that I'm expecting your return. Don't worry. And - tell the overseer that if any of his men don't want to return, I'll pay them to the end of the month regardless."

[bleak_midwinter]

"You're being a little too generous, perhaps," he grouses, reaching out to touch their hair again. "I'm happy you're treating the workers well, but you'd best be careful about attracting people coming for your money, alright?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"It's self-protection this time, trust me," they murmur. "The local Realmsfolk already hate me. They're betting that either I'll insist the crew keep working in dangerous conditions, or I'll panic and dismiss them all. I don't intend on giving them that satisfaction."

[bleak_midwinter]

"As long as you're sure. You know more about them than I do."

Or, at least, they can play them in a way Tommy couldn't. He sighs and strokes their hair once more.

"I'll get going, then. Be back in an hour or so, yeah?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"An hour or so. I'll be here."

In that time, they make sure Tommy will not be challenged on his return, and instruct Mr Lancer on the financial implications of this misadventure. It will be expensive, especially if any number of men choose to leave, but it's not a measure they plan to take long term. At the very least, the local opposition have shown their hand now. Given a hint of the measures they're prepared to take.

They have to choose how to respond before it escalates to bloodshed. But - God help them, not today.

They're nursing a second cup of coffee when Tommy makes it back to the house.

[bleak_midwinter]

He gets (albeit begrudgingly) lead into the house, and over to where Double is having that second cup.

"Mister Shelby, Your Grace," Lancer says, before retreating, while Tommy takes off his cap and stuffs it in his coat pocket.

"He got the message - everyone's sent off for the day, and if they want to come back when work continues they'll be welcomed back."

[oohforeshadowing]

"Thank you," Double says, and rises from their chair, coming closer to him.

"...I should have seen this coming, really. I didn't think they'd do something like this so soon."

[bleak_midwinter]

He holds out a hand, and when they take it he pulls them in closer.

"It's no great surprise, I agree. It's still a disappointment. A setback. Are you sure you want to continue?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"When I can be sure that nobody will get hurt," they say. "Nobody human, anyway. Then I want to continue."

They lay their head on his shoulder.

"...I don't think I really took seriously, how much...responsibility I would end up having, here."

[bleak_midwinter]

He puts his hand on their head, fingers sinking into their hair.

"There are many, many people dependent on you and your decisions. It can be a lot."

[oohforeshadowing]

"It can."

They glance up at him, long ears twitching lightly. Even though they've discussed this before, in theory, it's a little more difficult to ask for it in the moment.

"That's why I was wondering if you could....take over? For a while?"

[bleak_midwinter]

Somehow, he isn't surprised by the request. Their anxiety had been palpable his first visit, and the way they're leaning up against him now feels like a prelude.

"Of course. Here, or in more private quarters?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"My suite, I think. Unless you'd rather we keep to a guest room?"

They're still not entirely sure how Tommy feels about these dalliances, given his political leanings. It may very well be that their own rooms might feel like...too much, somehow.

[bleak_midwinter]

"Hmm. No, let's go somewhere you feel safe enough to let go."

He presses an absent-minded kiss to the top of their head, then steps away. He urges them to go with a hand on their shoulder.

[oohforeshadowing]

It's a small thing, perhaps, but it's so sweet and thoughtful that they just have to press a quick kiss to his mouth before moving on.

Their rooms have been redecorated since they moved in. The bed is vast, of course. Fae tend to favour heavy floral and botanical designs, which Double has chosen to reject altogether; the walls and soft furnishings are relatively plain, although the quality is evident.

They close the door behind them.

"I, ah, have a few things I need to veto altogether before we begin."

[bleak_midwinter]

"Of course," he says - though he does take off his jacket, folding it over his arm while he waits for them to tell him. They've gotten quite adept at communicating these things, which makes this easier.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Please don't slap me in the face or put your hands around my neck," first off. That's easy. The next is a little harder, and they avoid eye contact. "I, ah...I do quite enjoy being insulted, but nothing like 'bastard'."

The specific slur against their parentage, is what they mean.

[bleak_midwinter]

He reaches out to briefly touch their shoulder.

"That should be done quite easily, Double. Is this the kind of scene where you'd want to be insulted? Or would you like to be taken in hand and guided somewhere?"