wondrousplace | olden times for Tommy

olden times for Tommy

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."

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Sometimes that really is all it takes. A quick flare of anger, and then a lifetime to extinguish it - but what does it matter, if it isn't your lifetime?

"He was...much more quick to anger than a lot of Fae I've known," they agree softly. "I could manage his moods, mostly, but...it wouldn't have taken much to push him to that kind of edge. I'm sorry."

It's not an apology, of course - they didn't know, and Tommy had good reason not to tell them. And it's not pity either. Just a solemn acknowledgement of the mess he's been forced into.

"You stayed on the good side of them and profited, and I..."

Well. He shrugs. He kisses their shoulder in soft apology.

"Not that I don't enjoy our time together, but it's come at a high price, and years and years of isolation."

They kiss the crown of his head again, stroke his hair, gentle and entirely untroubled. No offence intended; none taken.

"Do you know what the limits of the bond are? How much time you can spend away? If you're tied to me and not the land, then my consent should be all you need to see your family."

"I don't know. Your Father didn't let me go at all, not for that purpose. I was led to believe he'd know- track me, that sort. He's never told me if there are limits to be explored."

Too much risk. Even if he knows that Tommy couldn't have meant very much to him.

They frown, deeply unhappy with all this. They'd often felt like more of a pet than an heir to the previous Duke, but they'd thought that kind of treatment had been limited to them.

"But you would like to go back and see them, wouldn't you?"

He's silent a moment, and then reveals the real cause of his anger.

"...one of my brothers died last year. The men in the village who did the fireworks, they told me. I accused them of lying, but why would they? I'm sure they're right."

He desperately wants to see them. Those who are left.

Thomas accused a man of lying about a terrible thing, the man understandably took it badly, the situation escalated - then the split lip.

"...I'm going to find a reason to spend some time in Birmingham," they decide. "If you're bound to me, then you and yours will be safe if we both make the journey."

"It can't be the land, since I've traveled before, for the horses. Maybe you're right. Maybe."

He shifts now, and though his skin pulls painfully when he does it's worth it to look them in the eye.

"I won't try to talk you out of this. It means too much to me - you know, right? How important this is?"

"...I don't think I can know," they say, in the interests of honesty. "To know, I would need to be able to empathise, and...well, I had a smaller family and our relationships were...fraught. But I trust you when you say it. I can hear in your voice what it means to you."

"If I could see them again, show them I'm even alive, and in good health, and see them..."

He drops back down, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"I haven't considered the option in years. I did the first few years I was here, but I haven't for so long. It would mean everything to me."

"Then I'll rent an apartment and spend a little while there. A month or two. And I'll...look into a more permanent solution."

Which carries a risk to them, if such a solution exists, that Thomas will simply decamp back to his hometown and they'll never really see him again - but that's something they can only accept.

"Double."

He sits up again, this time fully, so he can really look at them. "That's not - you shouldn't. You've got the estate to run, you can't..."

"Don't be absurd, darling. When I first arrived, I'd been planning to just look the place up and down and then return to London. Leave all this in Mr. Lancer's hands until I could sell up. This place can manage without me for a while."

They close their eyes and smile.

"Birmingham has theatres, hasn't it? I could fund a show. Patronage of the arts."

He takes a deep breath and takes their hand in his own. If he'd planned it like this it couldn't have gone any better, but he didn't plan it like this. Somehow it just happened.

"It has theatres. Museums. All those things you enjoy."

"Wonderful. I can bask in the culture, and if you happen to enjoy some fringe benefits, well."

They squeeze his hand.

"I've become accustomed to country life, after all. I'll need my own driver."

He picks their hand up and presses his mouth to it, then his forehead.

"Thank you. You have done more for me tonight than I can express to you, and I didn't even ask. Thank you."

"It's my pleasure, truly."

They lean in close to kiss his lips gently.

"...And as curious as I am, I will entirely avoid your household. You're entitled to your privacy."

Explaining why on earth they have any interest would take some doing, after all.

"...I think it's for the best," he agrees, somewhat regretfully. He kisses them back, and slowly (carefully) makes his way back down to them.

"It's been so long. I can't even imagine seeing them on me own, let alone together." He'd like the privacy.

"And for once, I don't want to be a distraction," they promise. "You can leave me to my silly Realmer pastimes and be with your kin."

If anything, they're a little envious Tommy has family he loves enough to miss so keenly - but they can't begrudge him that. They can admire it, from a distance.

"For two months, Your Grace?"

He smiles and keeps hold of their hand, absolutely unwilling to let go.

"I can drive you around. Pay a visit."

"Well, being driven around occasionally would help to explain why I brought you," they concede. "I might even smuggle you into the theatre at some point."

That, they say entirely on impulse, but they don't take it back. They'd like to share something they love so much.

"See if you can't get me to enjoy some culture? I have taught you to ride. Don't know that you enjoy it, but you can do it, at least."

Tit for tat.

"I enjoy it a great deal," Double says, "much more than I thought I would, in fact. I was, ah...quite badly hurt by a horse when I was younger."

For all they were reluctant to talk about it, at first, it emerges easily now.

"Really? How - did you get kicked?"

Rule Number One he taught them, of course. Never walk behind a horse.

They shake their head.

"It stepped on my tail. I panicked, ah, rather loudly. It reared, caught me in the shoulder. Several fractures."

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