roseandthorn: (has)
[personal profile] roseandthorn
[Royce and Hadrian are between jobs, and these days, that nearly always means that they come to stay in Medford. Gwen always likes these times the best. It's nice to see both of them - skittery, tense Royce especially - be able to rest and relax, and she's not sure she can think of a sight she likes more than the two of them reclining by the fire, heads tilted back on couch cushions and boots thrown off into the corner.

She never says it, but she often finds herself wishing that they'd never leave.

And... Royce. Royce alone is a whole other story. She knows very well how he feels about her - it's not something he talks about, necessarily, but he doesn't need to. She knows him well enough by now that she can see it on his face as plain as day, and she sorely wishes that he could let himself believe in what she knows he sees, too - that she feels the exact same way.

But every time they talk - and they do talk a lot - she understands more and more, and it makes it very easy to be patient with him. They get by on little touches. They hold hands, sometimes. There have been kisses, usually before they go off to bed in separate rooms. Today, they both happen to be heading up the stairs at the same time, as Medford House settles down around them - it's late, and it's been a quiet night. Gwen tosses him a smile, reaches out to run a hand down his forearm, and then-- impulsively, but gently, she rests her fingers on his shoulder and stands on her tiptoes to press her lips to his.]
devoutish: (027)
[personal profile] devoutish
[Alfie had always thought that, if and when he was able to leave Norfinbury, he'd just want to move on and forget as best he could. He wouldn't be interested in visiting other worlds. He wouldn't be interested in letting other people visit him. He'd want to close off as much as possible, to excise that part of his life that hadn't really been real, at least not as far as his own world was concerned. But as time went on, he'd had to admit that there were a few exceptions - people he would want to keep up with even after escaping. Royce Melborn had absolutely been one of them.

And so, when they leave, they keep up with each other. It's a little strange to have someone from another world visit - especially someone who, for obvious reasons, can't tell anyone that he's from another world. That strangeness rankles at Alfie a bit, but not nearly enough to make him not want to see Royce anymore - all it does is make him wish that Royce was from London.

Months go by, and then years. The visits never drop off in frequency, and they start to feel more like an everyday part of life - get up, go to work, pay a visit to a beloved friend in another universe, ho-hum. Memories of Norfinbury still make Alfie's life a little harder, and it still pains him that it's a part of his past that he can't share with his family. But still, he settles. He continues his organized crime work, he gets married (Royce is invited to the wedding, of course), and he and his wife have a little girl. Life goes on.

Until it doesn't. A little over three years after he gets back, war hits again, and with it come the bombings of London. When one of the first raids hits, he and his entire family are at his parents' place for Sabbath dinner, and the building takes a direct hit. Only six out of twenty-seven people are pulled out of the flat alive that day. Five more die of their injuries over the next few days.

And just like that, Alfie is alone in London.

He has friends on his own world, but he turns to Royce. He can't bear Camden Town anymore - it's too full of memories, and right now, every memory breaks him just a little bit more. So he shows up on Royce's world, uses his last bit of strength to matter-of-factly explain what had happened, and asks if he can stay for a bit. And then he promptly goes to bed and doesn't get up for three weeks.

Alfie Solomons is not a man who gives up easily. But this is too much, even for him.]
raccoongirl: (006)
[personal profile] raccoongirl
[After leaving the others, Mercy and Royce ride on towards the river, and the elven territory beyond. Mercy starts out bright and alert, looking at everything that passes them by - exclaiming over pretty birds, pointing out interesting-looking trees, and, always, asking questions.

But it's been hours now, and she's starting to droop. Her chatter quiets. Her legs, which had swung energetically off the sides of her pony, are now still, and her fingers curl into the horses's mane. She lets out a yawn.]

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