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]

"Keep him here," Double says. "Try not to leave him alone. Compulsions are hideously powerful when they're active, but they don't last. Especially under...particular circumstances. I have to go back out."

[bleak_midwinter]

"I'll wake the boys up," she says. Her voice is shaky but she's sure of herself.

"We'll stay with him. Come on, Thomas - you'll come back here?"

This she asks of Double.

[oohforeshadowing]

"As soon as I can."

It starts to rain as they leave, which feels...somehow appropriate.

Cursesilver is, truly, the only reliable material when it comes to Fae. Completely immune to magic, capable of creating wounds that can't be healed; the techniques and history of its creation are lost. The humans say it was invented by their own magic users; the Fae say it was created by lower-caste Realmsfolk who wanted to use the incursion as an excuse to upset the 'natural order'.

Regardless, it's been the work of centuries to take every scrap of the stuff out of non-Fae hands, and even the Fae don't often love having it around. Rumours abound of safes buried deep in the earth, or sunk into the deep ocean hundreds of miles from anywhere.

Double has absolutely no idea if their father owned any.

The knife they threatened Hyperion with was a blunt thing they borrowed from the theatre. It would barely serve as a letter opener. The knife they liberate from Hilda's kitchen on their way back to the hotel is smaller, uglier, sharper, and just as effective when you have the element of surprise.

Alexandria wakes up when her throat is opened. Her hands twitch, and Double can even see the healing spell trying to stitch her trachea back together, but she's exhausted herself too much from the torture she inflicted on Thomas and the charms she threw at Double. They find some small, grim pleasure in the irony.

Hyperion is easier. Still can't use magic worth a damn. Looks more regretful than shocked or angry when he sees Double's face. It would have been so easy for him to just stay at home.

They leave the knife in his hand. The angle of the wound is such that it could easily have been self-inflicted. What other recourse would a Fae kinslayer have, than to take their own life in turn?

Fuck them both.

Double shifts into some unremarkable human shape for the walk back to the Shelby household. They feel...strange, hollow. Tired.

[bleak_midwinter]

The streets seem more bleak for their recently committed acts, like the darkness is descending upon them. The Shelby house is a little lighter, with candles set on tables and lit in a few rooms. Everyone has been awoken, even Finn, and Ada has been summoned with Carl in tow. She opens the door for Trouble when they come back, and touches gentle fingertips to their arm.

She doesn't see in their eyes what they've done, but Arthur might. Polly might. In either case, they're led to the livingroom, where Tommy is sat in an armchair with his head in his hands. Everyone else is quiet, the silence oppressive, their worry palpable.

"You're back," Polly says, looking at him. "Something happened half an hour ago, but he won't say what."

When it becomes obvious someone else is there, Tommy looks up to see. The others might guess, but somehow Tommy knows. "You cut the strings," he assumes, hoarsely.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Yes," Double says. They've retaken their true form, but certain details have been...altered. The blood on their clothes, for example. No need to upset the family's less hardened members. "They're both...dealt with."

Before tonight, they would never have imagined taking a life, never mind two. They've always been able to think and trick their way out of situations which might seem intractable to other people. They could have done the same today, if Alexandria hadn't...forced them to go to extremes. They couldn't let it stand.

Is this what being in love feels like? It's strange.

[bleak_midwinter]

He keeps looking at them, assessing them, and then feels a shiver run violently through his body. He's sure he knows what it means, what they did.

If it's all real, of course. He still isn't really sure it is, though he's growing more sure of reality now that Alexandria is gone.

"I've been fooled before," he hedges. "Thought I knew something, only for it to change again years later."

[oohforeshadowing]

"I don't doubt that," Double says quietly. "I can't speak for your family, and I can't even say that I'll succeed, but I will...try, to be patient. While you return to yourself."

[bleak_midwinter]

"What do you know about this? This - what you say this is?"

It's hard even to say aloud, honestly.

[oohforeshadowing]

"The compulsion itself?" Double asks, wanting to be sure. "Or the...the circumstances under which it was done?"

[bleak_midwinter]

"The compulsion." If that's what it is, he clearly thinks.

[oohforeshadowing]

"...A compulsion is any spell which affects your perception," Double says. "What you think, or feel, or how you experience the world. The Fae will say they can't 'force' anyone to do anything, but they can make you think they're the centre of your world, that you owe them everything, that it would be obscene not to do as they ask."

There's no practical difference.

[bleak_midwinter]

A few of the family members nod their understanding, as does Tommy. This, they recognize.

"So you think they... changed how I see the world. How long do you say I've been away?"

The days he's been gone pale in comparison to the half-century he still feels he lived through. He has no realistic frame of reference.

[oohforeshadowing]

"No more than four days," Double says, grimacing. "The...good news, such as it is, is that Fae magic is astonishingly potent in the moment but lacks much staying power. Imagine being submerged in water. You're weightless and unable to breathe, it controls everything you can feel and do, but once you're out of the water? That goes away."

What they're less confident about is how long it will take Tommy to catch his breath, or what oxygen deprivation might have done to his mind. Metaphorically speaking.

[bleak_midwinter]

He meets their eyes again, listening to them with rapt attention. When they make the metaphor he nods immediately, and tells them: "That's what it felt like when you were gone. I came out of the water, but physically I'm not sure I am."

It's like he's betraying himself. A whole life he's led. Everyone he knew - if he accepts that that isn't real, then what?

[oohforeshadowing]

"I could never have imagined Alexandria would be so cruel," they admit. "She was using you as bait. You could have simply been allowed to sleep. She exhausted herself so much by hurting you..."

So much that when they went to kill her, she didn't have the power left to stop them. They don't say it, but to certain people in the room, they're sure it's clear enough.

[bleak_midwinter]

Polly clenches her jaw and nods her approval, and Arthur crosses his arms and seems to feel the same way. Tommy just looks tired, and nods.

"Somewhere I remember putting up a fight. I don't know if it's a real memory." But it probably is.

[oohforeshadowing]

"I don't doubt that for a moment. She used a compulsion on me, as well - a vision of you, pleading with me to give her what she wanted." They smile thinly. "I know you well enough, Mister Shelby, that you wouldn't have given her that kind of satisfaction."

[bleak_midwinter]

"I tried killing her many times, over the course of..."

He trails off and grimaces. Finn is here, and even if he weren't he doesn't want to worry the rest.

"No matter. If I'm really out of the water now, then - then we should sleep."

[oohforeshadowing]

"You are," Double says, and then abruptly realises that they're in the rather well-occupied home of Thomas' family and are both a Realmer and an outsider in several assorted ways.

"I can come back tomorrow, but if you'd prefer to be with family..."

[bleak_midwinter]

Tommy looks at Polly, who firmly says: "Nonsense. You can stay here if you like. The beds may not be up to your standards, of course."

[oohforeshadowing]

Double's smile is surprised out of them, and looks all the more genuine for it.

"That won't trouble me at all. I would happily sleep on the bare floor at this point."

[bleak_midwinter]

"And make assumptions about our hospitality?"

She tuts and shakes her head, then nods at Finn.

"Get bedding out for the sofa. I'll make up a space for Tommy upstairs."

Consciously not kept downstairs. Upstairs has a lot more rooms he'd need to pass by if he got any ideas about leaving in the night.

[oohforeshadowing]

And honestly, Double has no real intentions of sleeping. If Tommy does go wandering, there's no knowing where he might end up or what trouble he'd get into, with his mind as battered as it's been.

They mostly just stay out of the way as preparations are made for the Shelbys to bed down for what remains of the night, still a little fascinated by a family who clearly actually love each other.

[bleak_midwinter]

Polly bids them goodnight with a hand to their elbow and a heartfelt thank you, and then Tommy is urged upstairs.

He does sleep. He dreams of himself as a man of eighty-five, living in a shack somewhere, having lost everyone and everything. When he wakes up before dawn it's hard to believe his body isn't old and stiff but young and vital.

He goes downstairs, past the vigils who have fallen asleep, and to the kitchen. He won't make a break for it; he just wants tea.

[oohforeshadowing]

Double is awake; hasn't really slept, per se. There's a couple of hours they can't quite account for when they might have drifted a little. Right now they're sitting at the kitchen table, paging through a newspaper they found during a brief exploration of the kitchen.

"Good morning, darling," they say, softly.