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

[oohforeshadowing]

Double turns to face the two boys, their eyes returning to a human 'normal' before they can see anything different.

"Please. I know a lot of Realmers - if you tell us what they looked like...?"

[bleak_midwinter]

"The man was blonde, had a pretty big nose, he was wearin' something purple - bit queer looking, yeah?"

His friend nods. "But he had a woman with him. She was blonde too, had a birthmark on her lip. They was tall, too."

They clearly look unsure of what else they'd want to know. So far, though, it sounds suspiciously like the Duke's family.

[oohforeshadowing]

Double frowns thoughtfully. The old man's sister had died some time back, but he had a niece and nephew, who would almost certainly have inherited if the Duke hadn't chosen an heir or died intestate. Double had met them both at a party in London, at which point they'd been in the Duke's good graces - but not yet in his will. The siblings hadn't called them a shameless, conniving gold-digger to their face but certainly hadn't warmed to them, either.

They're both distinctive looking. Could have used glamours or charms to be less noticeable, were this not a direct challenge to Double themself.

Fuck.

"...I know who you're talking about," they say, quietly. "Thank you."

[bleak_midwinter]

"Uh," they say, shifting awkwardly until Polly tells them they're excused. They run out and leave the family sitting there.

"You don't sound happy," Ada says.

[oohforeshadowing]

"I'm not," they say, shoulders sinking. They're furious, but won't take it out on these people.

"...Is there somewhere more private we can talk?"

[bleak_midwinter]

Polly gets up right away and makes her way out of the pub. The rest follows, wordlessly, all feeling that they may now know more but that they're no closer to Tommy.

They walk to 6 Watery Lane and enter through a nondescript door. "Set up at the table," Polly instructs them. The space is warm and cozy, with plenty of chairs at a long wooden table and a smouldering wood fire in the hearth. Michael gets it going with a new log as Polly goes to make tea.

No one's speaking about the case until they have their drinks and their aunt at the table, and Ada feels brave enough to ask:

"Is this what you really look like? I've never seen a shifter before."

[oohforeshadowing]

Double smiles slightly.

"No, not like this. It just helps me move around town."

They transform, a slow green-black ripple from head to toe - body growing tall and slender, ears elongating, tail spooling out as if from nowhere.

[bleak_midwinter]

"Goodness," Ada says, leaning back, looking on with open fascination. "You're so pretty - "

"Ada!" Michael flushes and looks at her, shifting uncomfortably.

"Well, it's true! Why not say it? I like compliments too!"

"Alright, you too," Arthur huffs. All of this really paints a picture of what they're like as a family. What a family who trusts each other can really be like, in all honesty.

[oohforeshadowing]

It's nothing at all like their own experience of a family unit, and Double makes no attempt to disguise how pleased they are.

"Thank you, Ada, darling, you're very pretty yourself," they remark, in complete sincerity. Though then they exhale deeply, and their smile fades.

"...So. The two Fae who were seen near here. The Duke was survived by a niece and nephew - Alexandria and Hyperion."

It's extremely unusual for Fae not to choose their New Realm names from human mythology or ancient history. They have their True Names, of course, but it's unlikely for anyone to know another Fae's True Name beside the parent who gave it to them. It's only rarely known between siblings or spouses.

[bleak_midwinter]

Polly puts the cups down just in time, blinking down at the new sight at the table but taking it in stride.

"Yet you are sitting here, the Duke's heir, and clearly no Fae."

She brings more cups, then sits down. Arthur grabs a bottle of whiskey to doctor his with.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Correct on all three counts," they say, without overt sarcasm. "I was the bastard child of a shifter father and a Fae mother, raised and then orphaned as an 'adopted foundling', then made the heir of the Duke. Which I can't imagine Alexandria was pleased with, in particular."

For all the Fae tut and laugh at human culture, they've adopted a great deal of it - not least a tendency for the eldest male of a given line to inherit the lion's share from their parents. The Duke's sister didn't do badly out of the estate, but her younger brother did better, and Hyperion did a great deal better than Alexandria when their mother died.

[bleak_midwinter]

"So you think she's taking revenge on you for getting what she didn't, by stealing your servant?"

More bad news. Fae with grudges never, ever turn out to be easy to deal with.

[oohforeshadowing]

"...After a fashion," they say, grimacing. "They can't kill Thomas without cursing themselves, but that leaves...room to manoeuvre. I think they're using him as bait."

[bleak_midwinter]

"What would they do to you - or be able to do? Do you have magic of your own? Can they tell you're a shifter if you've taken on a different form?"

Normally she likes one question at a time, but Polly does not like room to maneuver.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Fae can't see through a shifter's transformation," they tell her. "It's the only magic I have, but it's very effective. As for what they could do to me...well, it's so deeply taboo for a Fae to kill their kin that I don't think they'd even do it to an adoptee. But as I say. Room to manoeuvre. They could, say, hurt me until I agreed to sign over the estate."

[bleak_midwinter]

"...if those are the stakes," Polly says, slowly, "then surely you wouldn't risk taking their bait?"

[oohforeshadowing]

Double clears their throat.

"As I said, Thomas is my responsibility. His presence here is my responsibility. And I don't intend on leaving without him."

And if it comes to it, they aren't especially wedded to any Fae beliefs about kinslaying.

[bleak_midwinter]

"Can't we think of ways to give you cover, if you find them and go to meet you?" Michael asks, quiet but shrewd. "To join you as a servant, perhaps - I don't know. It sounds like going alone would be dangerous."

[oohforeshadowing]

"...It will be," Double concedes, frowning. "But going with me would be extremely dangerous for you, and I'm not sure that it would make me any safer."

Also, they're not altogether convinced Thomas would ever forgive them for allowing his family anywhere near an altercation with High Fae.

[bleak_midwinter]

"We want my brother back," Arthur says, firmly, making a fist on the tabletop. "We ain't had him for so long, we're not about to let him go again that easy. Maybe we don't go inside, but we help out, we got- we got connections, don't we? Pol?"

Polly looks conflicted but nods. "We may be able to think of something. After we find out where he is, Arthur, no sense planning for that big an unknown."

[oohforeshadowing]

Double exhales deeply.

"All right. If you can consult your contacts on potential means of evening the odds, I'll do the same to find out where they are, and we meet back here at daybreak?"

[bleak_midwinter]

Polly nods, and then gets up and holds out a hand.

"A truce between our families, Double Trouble. We'll work together."

[oohforeshadowing]

Double shakes their hand firmly, nods, and then immediately makes their way to the most exclusive hotel in town.

Hyperion and Alexandria are many things but they've never felt unpredictable.

In the body of a human servant, they explain with embarrassment to the night manager that they need to speak with the Lady Alexandria on their master's behalf - yes, now, it's important business that cannot wait until morning. The manager hedges, but then they see the scars on their fellow human's arms and the exhaustion in their eyes and seem to be taken by some fellow feeling.

From the expansive lobby, they take an ascending room to the top floor, where the Royal Suite awaits. Fortunately, the human staff place limits on the amount of magic the building can realistically use, so they do some very prosaic things to the lock with some hairpins to gain entry.

[bleak_midwinter]

The suite is fantastical. Humans will be able to easily clean and fix most things inside, but all the embellishments are obviously Fae-made. The ceiling swirls with a starry night sky, the wallpaper moves in a gentle pastoral scene. The hot water in the bathroom is more than evident, but more than that everything is voice-activated and utterly convenient.

It's also big. The entire top floor is taken up by the suite, leaving plenty of room for the siblings to avoid one another as they wait. In one room of the suite, Alexandria is writing a furious speech; in another, Hyperion is composing a piece of music.

In yet another, Tommy is cuffed to a bed, in another world entirely. None of them has any idea someone just entered the suite.

[oohforeshadowing]

The gifts which serve Double here are far more physical than magical. Their silent, barefoot tread; an awareness of their surroundings which leads them to avoid crossing near any bright lights, for the suspicious shadows that will be cast when they do so. They can see Hyperion through a half-open door, playing a violin with slow, delicate strokes, but pay him little mind. Through another door, they can hear Alexandria muttering to herself over the scratch of a pen nib.

The next door opens, thank God, without recourse to force or hairpins or even a creak. Beyond it they see Tommy and feel grief and rage spasm in their chest, but they force it down and close the door behind them before moving closer.

"Thomas?" they whisper - their own voice, their own eyes in their borrowed face.