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emotionalcadaver · 3 months

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Part 19: In the Bleak Midwinter

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess x OC

Summary: Tommy and Lucy enter the madhouse that is the Russian's residence.

Word Count: 3,732

Notes: Warnings for depictions of sexual assault.

Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

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Chapter 20: Diamonds

Lucy fought the urge not to pick at her nail polish or fiddle with her rings as the car pulled up in front of the Russian’s house. Sliding out of her spot in the backseat after Arthur, she let her gaze drift over the mansion and the grounds, eyeing each guard standing at attention along the walkway up to the front doors while Tommy spoke to his brothers. Each of the Cossacks stared back at them, as they strode past, eyes grizzled and jaws set.

Tatiana met them a little less than halfway up the path, an intricately woven shawl draped over her bright red dress. A diamond necklace encircled her throat, gleaming earrings swinging from her ears. She greeted Tommy with a lowered voice, smug smile pulling at the corners of her lips before she welcomed them inside.

They followed her into a small office where Izabella was waiting for them, standing regally by the door with her gloved hands folded in front of her. Lucy kept close to Tommy’s side, not quite touching him but near enough that she could just start to feel the heat radiating from his body. Twice she caught herself fiddling with her rings without even realizing it while Tommy explained to John and Arthur how in Russia, men who were enemies of the royals would sometimes cover their bodies in tattoos. And in order to ensure that neither Arthur or John were assassins or infiltrators, they would like to check their skin.

The horrified look that crossed Arthur’s face made Lucy frown. All four of them knew exactly what they were walking into when they agreed to come to this madhouse. Had he thought Tommy was just joking when he briefed them earlier?

“Now, my and Lucy’s bodies already been checked. Although, at the time, I wasn’t sure that was the reason,” Tommy went on. Lucy snorted. “And now it’s your turn.”

Arthur looked like he was about to be sick, but John was grinning.

Lucy had always strongly suspected that John and Esme had an arrangement not quite unlike the one she had with Tommy. At the very least, she knew John had no qualms with fucking women who weren’t his wife.

Arthur was another story. There was no way in hell, with her prayers and crosses and piousness, that Linda would ever be alright with something like this. Not even if it didn’t mean anything. And, little as Lucy understood it, Arthur was entirely devoted to Linda.

But it needed to be done. There was no way around it. And if he couldn’t handle being gawked at a little, how the hell was he going to handle what was to come after?

Lucy still felt bad for him, though.

“Come on boys. Take your clothes off,” Tommy snapped his fingers, turning away and taking Lucy’s hand in his, leading her towards the back of the room, past Izabella as she approached the two brothers. Behind them, Lucy could hear Arthur protesting.

“Get out of my way, both of you,” he tried to rush to the door, still blocked by Tatiana, and Tommy caught him by the front of the shirt.

“Arthur, come here,” he leaned in close, speaking softly in Romani.

“Let the ladies have their fun, eh?” while his voice was soothing, Lucy could hear the barely disguised order underneath. Arthur’s jaw clenched, but they all already knew that he was going to do what he was told.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, and for a moment Lucy again felt a churning in her stomach at what they were asking him to do. As if his discomfort was contagious.

Should have just left him at home with his bloody wife, she thought bitterly to herself.

Tommy’s hand squeezed around hers, giving her a little tug and pulling her with him towards the window. He perched against the windowsill, wrapping an arm around her and guiding her to sit in his lap. Lucy coiled an arm around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck, seeking out both comfort from his warmth and to give Arthur and John at least some semblance of privacy. Their belts clinked and clothes rustled while they disrobed. John was laughing, goading Arthur while he tossed his shirt to the floor. Tommy smirked in mild amusement while lifting a cigarette to his lips. His mirth made her feel a little better. After all, it was harmless. Tatiana and Izabella were just going to look them over and send them on their way.

No real harm done.

Tommy’s hand rubbed up and down along her thigh, and she relaxed against him, both arms going around his shoulders, her nose squishing deeper into his neck when she angled her face to give him a little kiss there.

There was the sound of ripping fabric, and Lucy yelped when something small and round bounced off of her cheek. Her head snapped up from its hiding place against Tommy to search out the culprit who had just thrown a button at her.

John had already stripped down to just his shorts. Arthur was shrugging off his shirt, which, when Lucy squinted at it, appeared to be the cause of her suddenly being pelted, as it had been ripped open rather than meticulously removed, all its buttons scattered across the floor.

Tommy’s finger curled under her chin, turning her face back to look at him. His smirking lips pecked the spot where the button had struck her, before guiding her face to rest back in the crook of his neck. Snuggling into him, she fixed her gaze pointedly on Tommy’s chest while John and Arthur rid themselves of the remainder of their clothes, Izabella and Tatiana stalking around them, examining their bare skin like a pair of hungry wolves.

Tommy gave them a moment, just enough to analyze the lack of traitorous tattoos on John or Arthur’s skin, and then he gave Lucy’s thigh a little tap. She slid from his lap with ease, though she kept her arms still looped loosely around his neck as he stood, her head turned away from his brothers and towards the window.

“All right, I think we’ve seen enough, eh?”

But Izabella raised a hand, voice soft as she turned to her niece. “Tatiana?”

Tommy sat back down on the windowsill, guiding Lucy to settle into his lap once more. There was a rustling of skirts, and then John started laughing. Lucy felt Tommy tense beneath her, and out of curiosity she chanced a glance through her eyelashes at where the brothers were standing.

Tatiana had knelt down in front of Arthur, hand reaching between his legs. Arthur’s eyes looked to be about ready to pop out of his skull, mouth agape.

“Sometimes assassins hide their allegiances behind their balls,” Tatiana said, as casually as if she were discussing the weather. Lucy felt her stomach clench and churn. Tommy’s hand, where it was still resting atop her thigh, squeezed. John had stopped laughing. “But you passed the test, soldier,” Tatiana looked up at Arthur. “With flying colors,” she stood, but maintained her grip on Arthur’s cock. His eyes squeezed shut, and he looked as if he were in physical pain as Tatiana started to move her hand back and forth. Lucy had to look away, unable to take anymore of the expression on Arthur’s face. Aware that if she jumped up and tried to push Tatiana away from him, the duchess could have them all killed.

Her fingers clenched into Tommy’s shoulder, gritting her teeth as she fought back memories of how it had felt to be touched without consent. Shoved to rain-slicked cobblestones while hands groped at her breasts and between her legs…

She slammed her eyes shut, face pressed back into Tommy’s neck, grabbing a handful of the fabric of his shirt.

Make it stop. Please, Tommy, make it stop.

As if he’d heard her thoughts–maybe he had; she’d never been able to fully rule out the possibility that he was secretly a mind reader–Tommy wedged the cigarette he was holding between his lips and rose to his feet, keeping a hand on her waist to steady her when she was displaced from his lap. Once her feet were steady on the ground he let her go, and brought his hands together in several firm, loud claps.

Then tension that had been steadily building in the room popped like a balloon with every crash of Tommy’s hands. And when he was finished, he plucked his cigarette from his lips, and flashed a charming, amused smile.

“The real diamonds, eh?” he crooned, but underneath the layer of cheerfulness he had plastered onto his face, Lucy could see tension and anger at what Tatiana had just done roiling underneath. Maybe even a dash of protectiveness. He was only playing nice so as to avoid an altercation. Otherwise, she wondered if Tatiana would have been torn to shreds.

The duchess in question stepped away from Arthur, the smug smile that danced across her features enough to make Lucy want to slap her. Izabella recovered quickly, inviting them to join in celebrating the successful examination as she whisked away into another room with Tatiana following close behind her.

The second the Russians had exited from the room, John started to laugh again. Tommy gave Lucy a little squeeze at her hip before stepping around the desk towards his brothers.

“Well done, boys. Eh? Well done, Arthur,” Tommy tried to smile the whole thing off. Lucy looked away, back towards the window while Arthur and John started to get dressed, running a hand through her hair and flexing her fingers in an attempt to get rid of the jitters that had suddenly begun twitching through her muscles.

“Now you know what you have to do next,” Tommy was saying. “All right? One last job. Make contact and play nice.”

Lucy swallowed and, still pointedly averting her eyes from the brothers, made her way across the room. Tommy took her hand, leading her through the door Izabella and Tatiana had exited through.

As soon as they were out of sight or earshot of John and Arthur, Tommy came to a stop, turning to look her over, both hands resting on her shoulders.

“Are you alright?”

Her breath rattled in her lungs when she exhaled. There was still a shakiness in her hands; a prickling, unconscious desire to nervously start fumbling with the simple golden rings encircling her fingers, and her stomach felt like it had been tied into knots. But looking into the deep blue of his eyes seemed to help a little.

“I’m fine, I just…” she worried at her bottom lip. “That just hit closer to home than I expected it would.”

He rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms, as if trying to warm her, and she realized that she was shivering a little. “I didn’t know she was going to do that,” he said, and while his voice was soft she could see the way his jaw ticked with anger, clenching in a way that accentuated the sharpness of his features.

“Do you think Arthur’s okay…?” it felt like a stupid question to even ask. Of course he wasn’t.

Tommy closed his eyes, confliction tearing across his face before he schooled it back into place. When his eyes opened again, they were stern, but not unkind.

It was the same face he made when he decided he needed to fire someone, or cut wages. The look of a man who knew he needed to make a hard decision, even if it was going to hurt someone.

“Arthur’s a big boy. He can take care of himself,” his thumb swiped along her cheekbone. “He’s not your responsibility, eh?”

Lucy nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered, forcing herself to let it go. “Yeah,” she said it again with more conviction. “They knew what they were signing up for when coming here,” it was half a question, and half a reminder to herself. They’d all heard the rumors about the orgies and other lascivious activities that went on in the Russian’s household late at night.

“That’s right,” Tommy nodded, bringing his cigarette to his lips. Flattening her palms on his chest, she leaned her head forward, resting it between his pectorals for a moment. The hand not holding his cigarette rubbed her back. “Here,” he held the cigarette still clutched between his fingers to her lips, the smoke helping to settle what little of her nerves remained.

“Sorry,” she whispered, lifting her face. Tommy just shook his head, pecking her forehead and taking her hand again.

“Come on, let's not keep them waiting.”

Tatiana was lingering at the end of the hall after their next turn, smug smile still in place while she adjusted the shall around her shoulders, two guards flanking her.

“Ready?” she asked, head inclining. Tommy nodded, and her smirk grew. “This way.”

They followed through a maze of winding halls, ornate paintings of old Russian aristocracy staring at them from their places mounted on the walls. Lucy could’ve sworn that their eyes followed them as they passed.

“We are almost there. This way,” Tatiana guided them through another door, taking an immediate left turn to begin the descent down a dark flight of stone stairs. It was cold, a musty, damp scent permeating into the air. Lucy wrinkled her nose against it, thankful to still have on her overcoat to protect against the chill. As they walked, Tatiana explained some of the history surrounding the treasury, coming to a stop at a locked barred metal door. The guard standing at the other side of the door unlocked it and pulled it open for them, the metal squealing as it moved.

Tatiana stepped in, marching authoritatively passed the guards, more like a general than a duchess. The dog standing at the feet of one of the Cossacks started to bark, the man gripping its leash firmly while they waited for the next door, this one solid metal, to be opened. Lucy had to suppress the feeling of entrapment that suddenly shuddered along her spine; that came not just from being underground, but at having so many locked doors and guards between them and the outside.

They followed Tatiana into the treasury, where Romanov and Izabella were already waiting, with Alfie standing between them, his hands bound with rope, but otherwise unharmed.

“Your jeweler,” Tatiana said, voice laced with a barely concealed strain of disdain.

“I don’t think they trust me, Tommy,” Alfie sounded more exasperated and mildly amused than genuinely upset, nodding at the ropes encircling his hands.

“Mr. Solomons is the only jeweler I trust in London,” Tommy said. Alfie continued to grumble while Romanov unenthusiastically drew a knife and sliced the ropes binding him, letting them fall to the ground with a thud. While Tatiana restated their agreement as to how Alfie was to select items from the treasury which would be stowed away until Tommy completed his side of the arrangement, Lucy allowed herself to wander more deeply into the treasury, taking in the dimly lit, cavernous-like room. An assortment of boxes were set upon the tables that lined the walls of the treasury. They were open, revealing glittering jewels sitting atop plush red velvet lined interiors. The way that they gleamed in the dim light only added to the feeling that they had wandered into a cave. A cave that hosted an assortment of rare, precious jewels.

She paid no mind to Alfie’s ramblings behind her, though she did sneak a glance to the Russian’s faces upon the revelation that he spoke their language. To her delight, they looked shocked; dismayed to have their primary advantage stolen away.

If only they knew that advantage had never existed in the first place.

It didn’t take long for the darkness, and the damp scent of soft earth, to start to get to her, and almost without thinking she found herself drifting back to Tommy’s side. He had remained standing near the table, watching as Alfie flitted from table to table, magnifier pressed to his eye while he plucked up jewelry and gemstones from their cases on the tables, examining them and tossing the ones he deemed acceptable to the center of the table. There was a little haggling, between him and Izabella, and Romanov seemed incapable of not hovering at Alfie’s shoulder and arguing with every other statement he made, leaving Tommy to have to mediate between the two.

Not good. It wouldn’t take long for Alfie to lose his patience when it came to that bullshit. Especially not with the added bad history between his family and the Russian aristocracy.

Lucy picked at her fingernails, tracing carefully underneath them with the tip of her nail, to remind herself that there was no dirt still lodged beneath them. She took a deep breath. Not much longer. And then they would be back up above ground again.

“Luces!” Alfie’s sudden booming voice nearly made her jump. “C’mere, little demon, come, come, come,” he reached out a hand, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her towards a couple open cases of glittering red garnets, topazes of nearly every color imaginable, and a few red stones she didn’t recognize. “Tommy says you’re to pick a few things out.”

She blinked, casting a glance over her shoulder to find that Tommy had pulled his eyes away from the rather intense staring contest he’d been having with Tatiana and Izabella, watching her with an expression anyone else might have mistaken for being unreadable.

She recognized the hint of tenderness though, just beyond the armor of cold expressionlessness covering his eyes.

Turning back to the table with a smile pulling at the edges of her lips, she considered the jewels.

“Hm…these,” she pointed to a pair of garnet earrings, the small, deep red stones looking almost like droplets of blood as they swung side to side from their chains as Alfie lifted them carefully. “And that,” she gestured to an intricate gold ring, a big, oval shaped garnet winking at her from between two tiny pearls inlaid above and below it. She picked out a few other pieces, Alfie gathering them up and meticulously examining each one for flaws before tossing them to the center of the table with the other riches. Garnets were cheap– at least by comparison to what else lay in the treasury–so she was able to select a good several pieces without worry.

“What’s that?” she asked Alfie, voice lowered to a whisper, a little embarrassed that she couldn’t identify the other red gems settled on the far end of the table. Alfie scooped up a necklace, a red stone the shape and size of a grape dangling from the chain.

“Red beryl,” he said, holding it close to his magnifier.

“No, no, no,” Romanov immediately began to protest. “That is one of the rarest gemstones on earth–”

“Only found in the south western parts of America, if I’m to be correct,” Alfie said. Lucy bit her lip. The pendant was beautiful, but likely way outside of their price range.

“It is a thousand times rarer than gold,” Romanov supplemented, looking about a second away from ripping the necklace out of Alfie’s hands.

“Any yet,” Alfie shot him a grizzled look, “from what I hear about the current market, it only is valued slightly higher above your average emerald.”

Romanov sputtered. Alfie raised his eyebrows, holding out the necklace for Lucy to take. He held up the lantern so that she could get a better look at the solid red hue of the stone. It was cold against her fingers.

“You like it?” she glanced over her shoulder, where Tommy had crept up behind her, peering over her shoulder. She smiled, nodding.

“Yeah.”

He took it gingerly from her fingers. “We’re taking it,” he said, no room for argument in his voice as he set the necklace onto the table to join the other pieces of jewelry she’d selected.

“You cannot–” Romanov tried to interject, but a raised hand from Izabella silenced him, though his face had turned so red it almost matched the stones Lucy had just been selecting from.

“Yes, yes, very good,” Alfie spoke right over him. “Can make a good early anniversary present, eh, Tommy?” he gave Tommy a pat on the shoulder as he swept past him. Tommy’s fingers tangled with hers, tugging her back to where he’d been originally standing by the table. She gave his hand a tight squeeze until he looked at her.

Thank you, she told him silently. He blinked.

I love you, his eyes said back. She smiled, and linked her arm with his, tucking into his side.

Alfie, still wielding the lantern in his hand, sat down in the chair next to Izabella, leaning in close.

“Do you have any eggs?” he asked. Lucy tightened her arm around Tommy’s. This was the gamble, and quite possibly a request that could get them at best thrown out, and at worst shot, if the Russians objected.

Perhaps they played their hand too soon by insisting on the red beryl.

For a moment, she thought Romanov would have a coronary, but Izabella simply made a calm gesture to Tatiana, and the duchess rose from her chair, going to a closed box tucked away in a particularly dark corner of the room. When she returned, she had a pale pink, intricately decorated Faberge egg clutched between her hands. She set it daintily in the middle of the table, sitting back down while Alfie examined the egg with near reverence.

Once satisfied, Alfie set the egg down, declaring their selection to be complete. Tommy and Romanov–who only hesitated but a moment before realizing that he had no backup in his protests–shook hands, sealing the arrangement.

“And now, Mr. Shelby, you and Miss. Winters will join your brothers and Mr. Solomons will take his leave,” Izabella declared. Tommy nodded. Lucy shot a look over to Alfie, to find him sharing at the Faberge egg, wetting his lips. She frowned.

But then Tommy gave her a light tug on her arm, pulling her with him towards the entrance to the treasury, and her attention was ripped away from the odd look on Alfie’s face.

She did not think of it again.

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Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders #my ocs #my fanfiction #lucy winters #lucy winters x tommy shelby #in the bleak midwinter #love me where i'm most ruined

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