Double Trouble (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oohforeshadowing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
wondrousplace2023-03-22 07:25 pm
oohforeshadowing) wrote in wondrousplace2023-03-22 07:25 pm
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."
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."
no subject
"I've often resented the countryside for it, but there are definite benefits as well. And on horseback there is freedom, too."
As much freedom as he's been able to grab onto in the past decade.
no subject
As much freedom as Fae magic permits. And God knows Double wants him to feel as free as he possibly can, even if that means staying close on whatever travels he decides to take.
(The thing about these kinds of bonds is that they're ironclad, but only according to the wording they were made with. There are offices in big cities owned by Fae scholars dedicated to composing contracts which can't be squirmed out of. Double doubts that their father bothered.)
"Is there anywhere else you've ever imagined yourself visiting?" they wonder. "Overseas, perhaps?"
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"Overseas?"
He's clearly surprised by the question, has never allowed himself to dream of something like that. He considers the question, frowning.
"I never imagined, no. Just places out of books. France. Spain. Italy."
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"I hear Paris is beautiful," they murmur. "Wonderful art and culture. And that it has some very lovely countryside around it, for riding."
And as much as it sounds appealing to them personally, they're also quite invested in creating some memories for Tommy which can't be compared to anything that came before, or mistaken for them.
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He glances over at them with a soft smile. "I think this is starting to sound like an offer. Would you take me with you, then? "
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They smile back, rather sadly.
"I still don't have a choice, darling. But if I did? Yes. I would want to take you with me."
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"I should like to go. With you, at least, I would like to go. Maybe it's something nice to dream of, eh?"
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"Not in the slightest," they tut at him, but they're still smiling. "It's a very lovely thing to plan for. Next summer, I think."
It's a long journey, and they'll need to consider the logistics.
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"Is it very different from England? The relations between humans and Realmers?"
He takes them to a little beaten path, where past travelers have ground a way into the high grass. They'll have to duck for branches, but the sound of a creek is beckoning them closer.
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"Not really," they admit. "It's more or less the same across Europe and America. I hear things in Asia are a little different? The incursion of Realmsfolk happened later, your people had more warning. They could put up more...robust defences."
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"I don't think many people call it an incursion," he points out. "Not... your people. Though I don't like calling them that."
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"I know - but I don't mind it. I know what you mean. They're my people more than they're yours."
They bite their lip.
"There's...something I want to tell you, about our history. It's not common knowledge, but if you're going to be organizing, you...you should know."
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He looks over at them, eyebrows raised.
"Alright. Does everyone from the Realm know? Or not even that?"
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"...I can't be sure. The Fae certainly know. The longer-lived peoples have a better, ah, generational memory. The others? I can't know."
They descend a little, into a rather lovely space cut through with a brook gently washing between some large, flat stones.
"Can we stop and sit for a while?"
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"Of course." Their serious tone concerns him a little, but if it's information they're giving he's not going to hinder them from doing so. He gets off and helps them tie the horses to a nice robust tree, then finds a nice patch of grass to sit down on.
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They sit down next to him, exhaling deeply as they relax. For all that they're growing more accustomed to riding, it's never entirely stress-free.
"...So this is what I understand of what humans were given to believe, of the breach between realms," they say. "We came here as...conquerors. Opening the way to the New Realm gave us the opportunity to seize more lands, more resources. And those ways are still open, at least to some."
They hadn't been certain of whether humans still thought that was true, but Polly's fear that Tommy had been removed to the Old Realms was confirmation enough.
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He nods, confirming their thesis. "Right. Expanding your territory, laying claim to resources, land, the service of people unable to do much in the way of resisting. I admit I have thought about the reason why I never hear about anyone returning to the Old Realm."
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Double tilts their head, strands of pale hair sliding over their shoulder. Maybe he's already got a sense of the reality, here.
"What would your best guess be?"
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"I thought- a rift, between some clans? Perhaps some groups decided to find another place to stay, and opened up opportunities for other Realmers to come. Cultural differences, perhaps, or feuds."
He looks at them and frowns. "But I would suppose now that that is not what you want to tell me, something that has been kept so secret."
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They shake their head slightly.
"...The truth of it is that to all intents and purposes, the Old Realms no longer exist. They were...swallowed. Some great, dark power simply overcame everything, and the smallest fraction of my ancestors were able to force open a breach and escape. We came here as refugees, not conquerors."
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It catches him totally off guard. He looks at them like they've just fabricated an elaborate lie, only he knows they're not lying. The world turned upside down when the Fae came, and they've always seen them as the new powers, the magical beings who came to rule and did.
To learn that they don't have anything to go back to is shocking. "I - I had no idea. Do they not tell us out of a fear to appear weak?"
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A small nod in answer.
"It didn't take long for the Fae and other magic users to realise the power they could wield over your people. If they'd tried to plead charity, or ask for an equal chance within human society....they'd have nowhere to go if they were refused. They...decided they wouldn't risk giving the humans time to organise any meaningful resistance."
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"So we have to find a way to reach equality, if they can't return to the Old Realm. Not that I would have expected them to do so easily, but the messaging..."
He rubs a hand over his mouth and shakes his head.
"A complicated matter. Once in power, who would give that up?"
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"Someone who doesn't have a choice," Double reflects, glumly. "There are ways to resist magic. If whatever gave cursesilver its power could be replicated at scale..."
But the secrets to its production have been assumed lost for over a century.