(Welcome to my newest work. This is an Alternative Peaky Blinders fic with the Shelby men and others with a fantasy twist. If you do not like OFC/Main Character pairing, you are welcome to not read. I have extensively used dialogue from the show and followed it, but added my own twist to it. As always, Enjoy!)
The clock chimed on the mantel, indicating the hour was past noon. Thomas Shelby swore quietly and shoved his feet into his boots before grabbing his coat. Shoving his arms through the sleeves, he listened for the pounding of feet of John coming down the stairs before his younger brother rushed out of the house.
He slipped out of the house before Polly could ask him to run an errand for her and closed the door quietly. The Lane was becoming busy for the late afternoon hours as the school hours ended and wives were coming back from their errands from town. He could hear his youngest brother, Finn, cry from the other side of the door.
Thomas looked down the Lane, searching for a face that he hadn't seen in a few days. Mazella, his closest female friend, had been acting strange since her sixteenth birthday and avoided him like the plague. That was almost two weeks ago, and he was determined to find her and question her.
He shoved his hands in his coat and turned left down the Lane towards the center of town. Maybe he would find her at the Bull ring running errands for her mother, Elizabeth. He would corner her and force her to tell him why she avoided him since her birthday. He was sure it wasn't the gift he gave her, but he had to be careful to keep his gifts platonic.
His affections toward her were platonic. She was his little sister, Ada's best friend, and that's how he saw her. At least that's what he kept telling himself. His brother Arthur teased him about his predilection toward Maze Hawthorne. It was something about the girl that drew him close to her.
A stream of sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the busy Lane. Children laughed as they chased one another after a day of schooling, finally free to roam and stay out of trouble or sometimes get into trouble. A woman pulled her children aside, letting him pass, but he didn't notice. He was too focused on finding her.
Reaching into his coat, he fished out a box of Capstans, placing one of the long white sticks in his mouth before lighting it. As he tossed the match in a puddle, his eyes flicked up to see Maze coming down the Lane. She was a vision of white against the bleakness of the black side-by-side houses that adorned Watery Lane. Tucked in the crook of her arm was a small basket.
Thomas inhaled swiftly, lowering his arm and walking toward her. This was his opportunity to corner her. He kept his eyes trained on her as he walked closer to her. He could tell something was amiss with her by the way she didn't pay any attention to the people nor the path she walked. Her eyes were unfocused, as if she were in deep thought.
It concerned him when she sauntered past him without recognizing that he was watching her. Furrowing his brow, he slipped the cigarette between his lips and turned to walk after her.
"Maze!" he raised his voice over the din. He smirked, seeing her pause her step and look around to see who called her name. Twisting her body, she smiled at seeing him standing there.
"You alright?" he asked, removing the cigarette from his lips and looking down at her.
"Not today, Thomas," she replied and went to turn her body away from him.
Instinctively, he grabbed her elbow gently and stopped her from walking away from him. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked down at his hand, but he saw her sigh and gently removed her arm from his grasp.
"Mind telling me why you've avoided me since your birthday?" he asked abruptly.
Her eyes widened at him. "I haven't been avoiding you since my birthday."
"Yes, you have and you know you have, so don't lie to me, Maze," he replied, pointing his cigarette at her, the tip glowing orange at her.
It didn't faze him, seeing her glower at him. "Fine," she snapped, "we'll talk."
"That's better," he said, and motioned for her to walk on.
Neither of them spoke as he led them down the Lane although she needed a chaperone with her. He watched from the corner of his eye as she frantically looked around, making sure no one was watching them walk out of town alone. While Maze was an adventurous sort, Thomas knew she was careful not to be alone with any of the Shelby boys.
Except for himself.
Flicking the dying cigarette on the soft dirt, Thomas led Maze quietly out of Small Heath, wishing now he'd brought his horse with him. He didn't mind the long walk, but he was eager to learn what she was hiding from him.
Once they reached the small clearing where they played as children, he watched with amusement when Maze deftly climbed on a bent tree branch where the tips of the leaves kissed the grass. She patted the spot beside her and he climbed on the tree branch like he used to when they were children.
He and Maze sat there in silence for a few minutes, neither of them speaking, when Thomas cleared his throat. Maze looked at him sharply and lowered her basket to the soft dirt with a plop. She gave a swing of her legs, looking down at the grass.
"No one is around to listen to us," Thomas said, fixing his cap and giving her a pointed look.
"I haven't been avoiding you, personally, since my birthday," Maze confessed. "Things have… changed."
His heart stopped for a beat, wondering what changed. He looked her over and saw nothing about herself had changed in the past two weeks. She looked a little more tired, but that was the long hours at the hospital and not something else. He argued with her several times about her job, saying it would be better if she stayed at home instead of slaving away.
"What things?" he inquired, wishing to grab another cigarette, but stopped his hand from grabbing his box. Maze hated it when he smoked, but never told him to stop.
She laughed hollowly. "You won't believe me if I told you, Thomas."
"I can be a believer in anything," he assured her.
She shook her head lightly at him, not giving him her direct eye contact. "Not this you won't. It's a secret."
Thomas's interest piqued at this. He shifted uncomfortably on the tree branch and gave her an inquisitive look. He and Maze had been close since their childhood days. They often shared stories, but they never kept secrets from one another, ever. His heart clenched at the fateful secret he carried in his breast and wished he could tell her, but something stopped him every time.
It appeared she carried a secret that would change his perspective on life. He was sure of that. It was the way she talked, how she moved her body—not that he paid attention to her body. It wasn't seemly for him to eye her in a way other than platonic friendship. He had no interest in women's business either.
"Try me," he challenged her, nudging his elbow into her arm lightly.
Maze broke a fragile stick off the tree branch they were sitting on and worried it between her fingers. She heaved a heavy sigh and turned away from him to cast her eyes to the field before turning back to look at him. "My name isn't Mazella Hawthorne," she began, watching him intently.
He said nothing, waiting for her to explain to him about her name change. "It's Scarlet Knight."
Thomas arched a black eyebrow at her incredulously. "Who is Scarlet Knight?" he asked, leaning toward her with a smile on his face.
"I'm being serious, Thomas!" she chastised him. She shifted uncomfortably in her dress.
He frowned at her chastisement, but urged her on, "Tell me who she is, then."
Maze looked at him sharply, peering at him, and inhaled deeply. A light wind brushed against them, floating her hair from her face as she looked at him. She inhaled, breathing in the scents of wildflowers that grew at her feet. "Scarlet Knight is from the future, Thomas. She was born in August 1987."
His mouth dropped open. It would have been comical if the situation wasn't serious. He looked away from her for a minute as if he were thinking. "We're a hundred years apart?"
Maze nodded at him, her hat falling slightly forward to cover her view of him. "We are."
"How did you manage this?" he asked, flabbergasted.
Maze gave a light laugh, shaking her head gently. "This is the part I told you wouldn't believe."
He leaned very close, almost too close to be proper. Her eyes widened a fraction, seeing how close they were. Her face flushed red, despite her being almost twenty-five in her mind. Thomas leaned back a little and looked down at his hands before looking back up at her.
"Try me," he demanded softly.
Maze leaned a little away from him and wet her lower lip, oblivious to Thomas's reaction. "I graduated high school and university earlier than most people, due to skipping grades when I was a kid. I got my degree in history, which pushed me into my career. Somehow, the United States government gained time-traveling portals that are used to send historians and researchers, like myself, back to research and record history properly."
He stared at her for a long minute, contemplating what she explained to him. It sounded like a science fiction story written by H. G. Wells, but he could tell she was telling him the truth. For as long as he had known her, Maze rarely lied to anyone. Time travel wasn't possible, at least not at the moment it wasn't, but maybe it could be in the future.
Thomas peered over the tall grass and into the trees in the distance. He watched as the tall branches swayed with the breeze, moving side to side. He wanted to believe her. Believe that she was from the future. Thomas felt a suspicion grow the longer he sat there silently.
Did she know the whole time? Or was this a recent discovery? Why was she sent back in time and what was her purpose?
Turning back to her, Thomas stared at her for a long minute. He could see the fear and worry in her dark eyes. She was afraid he wouldn't believe her. Her secret made him think of his own.
"Why are you telling me this?" He asked, dropping his head to stare at his hands.
"Because I trust you," she whispered.
His laugh was hollow as he lifted his head. "Of all the people in this world, you trust me." He shook his head at her. "I think I believe you, but your story sounds maddening, you know that?"
"I know it does, and I have proof, Thomas. I can take you to the future."
"Show me," he demanded.
He climbed off the tree branch, holding a hand to her for assistance. When she took it, he suppressed the urge to squeeze her hand. Following her back toward her house, he fished out another cigarette, his mind racing over her news and wrestling over the decision to tell her his own secret.
When they reached her house, she snuck to the small backyard and through the kitchen door. He watched as she listened for sounds, maybe from her mother Elizabeth, and let out a sigh, hearing nothing. Maze wasn't concerned about her mother's whereabouts, but no one could see Thomas sneaking into an empty Hawthorne house with the only unmarried woman living there.
"Is she home?" Thomas whispered.
"Not now, she isn't," Maze replied, sneaking through the back door and stepping into the kitchen.
Quietly, Thomas followed up the stairs to the second floor, where the family slept. He paused at the doorway to her room. It was long past improper for him to step into her room, let alone do it unchaperoned.
"Thomas?" he heard his name being called. Returning to the present, he saw Maze standing halfway in the middle of her room, waiting for him.
Inhaling, he stepped into her room and leaving the door open. "Where's your proof, Maze?"
He watched as she silently placed her hand on the far wall and a door shimmered in his vision. Thomas crossed the room to get a better glance at it. His pale blue eyes roamed over the door, noticing the artwork that was etched into the wood. It looked like a regular door to him with a brass handle.
Thomas grabbed her arm, watching her place her hand on the brass handle as if to protect her from some unknown force. Maze raised an eyebrow at him and loosened her arm from his grip and gave the handle a twist. A series of clicking noise followed, and the door opened a second later.
It surprised him he wasn't panicking from what he was seeing. Thomas stood close to the opened door and watched with silent amusement as she removed her hat and gloves, tossing them on the bed. She smiled impishly at him. Holding her hand out, he hesitated but took it gently between his fingers, revelling in her smooth skin.
He watched her bite her lip, as if trying to remember something. "Oh!" she exclaimed, startling him. He eyed her as she let go of his hand and walked back to the bed. Picking up a small wooden box, she opened it and retrieved two silver bracelets.
He cocked his head when she handed him one. "I remembered the next step. You have to wear this to keep the time stream on even minutes."
They put their bracelets on before she tossed the box on her bed beside her gloves and hat. Taking his hand again, she led him through the doorway.
He blinked at the bright sunlight that poured into the parlor. His eyes adjusted as his senses went into overload. Everything was different. Nothing looked the same as it did in the Shelby house, or even her house. He turned back to the portal door he walked through and could see her bedroom before turning to look in the parlor again. His eyes wandered around the room, seeing no stove to keep the room warm, nor a fireplace.
"Where am I?" he asked, still looking around the room. He could identify the couch, chair, and a low table, but nothing else. He saw a hallway and an opened door at the end, revealing a bedroom.
"You're in my apartment in the future," she said, letting go of his hand.
"And how far into the future am I?" he asked, turning to look at her. He scrunched his features, noticing that her skin tone was lighter in this brightness.
"You're over a century into the future, Thomas," she explained. "Would you like a small tour?"
He nodded and followed her around the apartment. It amazed him how much changed in a century. There were so many gadgets! So much luxury and comfort with inventions that were relatively new in the past were commonplace in the future. She led him back to the parlor and motioned for him to sit down.
"You have a lot of questions," she said quietly.
"Too many," he replied honestly. "This is why you've avoided me…."
"Well, it's difficult having to adjust, you know," she said dryly. "I go from not knowing about my 'true' self to finding out. It's like having two personalities melded into one person. It's quite disconcerting."
He rose from the couch and walked over to the large window overlooking a city. "This is unbelievable, you know?" he said, looking out the window. "What happens now?" he asked, rubbing his chin with his hand before turning back to her. He could see himself living in the future.
"I'm not leaving Birmingham, Thomas. If that's what you're asking me. My 'assignment' is a lifetime. I travel back to a younger body and relieve a time period until my death." She explained, watching him.
"What happens then?"
"I come back here to live this life."
He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Why tell me this?"
"Because I trust you, Thomas."
"That simple, eh?"
"That simple."
She turned to look at the large clock mounted on the wall and sighed. "We need to return before my mother does."
He nodded at her, his mind still reeling from this new discovery. It humbled him that Maze trusted him enough to reveal her greatest secret. A secret he knew he would take to his own grave. If she could keep this a secret and not tell anyone but him, then he could trust her to keep his secret.
Leading him through the doorway, Maze gave his hand a tight squeeze before releasing his hand as they stepped into her bedroom. "I need your bracelet," she said, holding out her hand, palm up.
"How much time has passed?" he asked, removing the bracelet and dropping it in her hand.
"Maybe half an hour. We need to go before mother returns. I'd rather not have my ears boxed because I'm not being proper," she grumbled, setting the bracelets in the box before closing them and grabbing her hat and gloves.
She closed the door quickly, and he blinked as it disappeared from his vision. Giving him a push on his back, he shot her a look before dashing out of her house. "I need to tell you something," he said as they stepped into the small backyard.
Intrigued, Maze followed Thomas back to their spot from earlier. The clouds parted, letting sunlight through as they walked. He wanted to hold her hand again, much like earlier, but stopped himself. They were friends, not lovers.
When they reached the clearing, he took her hand to help her upon the tree branch from earlier. Releasing her hand, he waited patiently as she got comfortable on the branch. His mind churned, trying to figure out how to tell her his secret.
"I have a secret to tell you," he said, rubbing his hands together. "It's… a long story."
"I love stories," she replied, removing her gloves.
He felt on the spot now. It was his turn to talk. Inhaling, he removed his hat, shoving it in his pocket.
Pacing around the small clearing, he glimpsed her as her eyes followed him. "A couple of centuries ago, my ancestors committed a terrible crime against a gypsy clan," he began, wetting his lips. "They would travel from village to village, taking over and becoming lords. They always left a few behind while the rest moved on once they were done in a village. One year, they travelled to a village in Wales and began their con….if you will," he paused, glancing at her for a second.
"One night, one uncle got drunk and murdered a young girl. Later, they learned it was a gypsy girl from a practicing family." he paused, hoping that he didn't need to explain that to her. "The elder cursed them once she learned of the Shelby crimes. Called us wolves in sheep's clothing. We looked innocent on the outside…"
"She cursed us," he continued. "Cursed all the men in my line. My ancestors called us changelings for years, but we've called ourselves shifters for a few decades."
"Is there a way to fix it?" Maze whispered.
Thomas bowed his head, looking down at the tips of his black boots. "Not anymore, there isn't," he replied bitterly.
He didn't see her climb off the tree. The bitterness that ran through him went deep into his soul. He hated his ancestors for what they did and the crimes they committed to curse themselves. When he opened his eyes, he saw her standing in front of him, worry and sadness etched on her lovely features.
He felt her warm body close to his. "What sort of shifter?" she asked, picking at a loose thread on his waistcoat.
Thomas gazed at her indifference to his tale. He could tell she was interested, but not running away from him. It made him curious that she didn't judge him. "Wolves."
"Shape-shifting werewolves," she mused, now picking at a button on his waistcoat. It was a tad loose. She would have to mend it for him.
"Yes," he said slowly, eyeing her. "You aren't frightened?"
Maze shook her head in negation. "It's unheard of, but I time travel too. What else happened to your story?"
He clasped his hand on her, stopping her from playing with another button. "My ancestors were told we had a chance to end the curse by repenting our crimes and sins to the family. If we did, they would lift the curse," he explained.
"I take it that didn't happen, did it?"
Thomas shook his head, scowling. He looked up at the overcast sky and chuckled hollowly. "No, it didn't. It seems my family was destined to stay wolves. There was one descendent, most likely from the same line, that killed the child. He murdered the very last gypsy woman of the tribe that cursed us."
"The Grimoire talks about it. I read a few pages," he said, finishing his tale.
Her interest piqued, "You have a family book detailing the curse?"
Thomas nodded at her, lowering his head to gaze at her, "We do. We have not updated it in a couple of decades. Not since me grandad was Alpha."
"I'm supposing it is required reading for the next Alpha?"
"It is, but I don't want the responsibility," Thomas said, stepping back from her. She could tell it was a repeated conversation.
"Are there more of you?" she inquired.
Thomas nodded his head at her. "There are. There are over fifty men in the Pack, not including Arthur, John, and eventually Finn."
"Ho—how are there more if the curse affects your bloodline?"
Thomas sat down on the grass and picked at a long piece, worrying it between his fingers. He wondered how much he could tell her. He didn't read but a few pages of the Grimoire, but he learned how they could bring a man into the Pack. It didn't surprise him when she sat down across from him.
There were many things he couldn't tell her, but she entrusted him with a secret that she carried close to her and sat with him and believed him when he told her his secret.
"It—it is a blood and loyalty oath," Thomas explained vaguely. He figured he could tell her that much, but not how it was done.
"You will not tell me exactly how it's done, are you?" she asked with no accusation in her voice.
"No, I'm not."
Maze understood when Arthur Shelby Sr. walked out on his family a year ago. It effectively made Arthur Jr. the Head of the family, but not Alpha of the Pack. Her heart went out to Thomas, seeing the dislike of the tremendous responsibility that laid before him. She twisted her hands together; the gloves rubbing against her skin as she pondered over how to help him.
She wanted to help him.
It was as simple as that.
"I want to know why you're not frightened of this," Thomas demanded, stepping back to her.
"Are you going to hurt me?" she asked, gazing up at him.
"Never."
"Then why should I be afraid, Thomas?" she asked softly. "Give me a good reason I should be afraid of you? Man or wolf?"
Thomas sighed, wishing she would realize how much he didn't want the curse to touch him. Everyone in the family was waiting impatiently for Thomas' birthday. If he shifted, all the males would shift, including Finn, when he was old enough. If he shifted, he would have to take on the responsibility of fifty families plus his own.
He didn't want it.
"Will I ever see you shift?" Maze asked, interrupting his thoughts.
He looked at her sharply and scowled. "No, you won't. I saw my grandad shift once when I asked for evidence. I thought he was lying to me until he shifted on the full moon the next month."
"You should be afraid, Maze," he warned her, gripping her arm and pulling her toward him. She gasped, feeling him jerk her closer to him until she was almost pressed into his body. "When I shift, I won't have any control over the wolf."
Maze chewed on her lower lip, mulling over his words. She trusted him, more than she trusted anyone in both time streams. "I'll keep that in mind," she said matter-of-factly, but didn't move away from his embrace.
"You confuse me," Thomas admitted, shifting his feet in the tall grass. "Most ladies would be frightened, some sort of fragile disposition."
Maze chuckled at his words, "I'm not your typical lady, Thomas. You know this." she took a deep breath, feeling humbled by his trust in her. "I think we don't have any secrets between us, do we?"
Thomas pushed out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding. "No, we don't."
