Eggsy and Roxy

What Follows

It baffled Eggsy that he had never been to Roxy's house. Though he understood why with one glance from Roxy. His gaping mouth and wide eyes didn't go unnoticed by her. In his defense her house was breathtaking, if it could even be called a house.
Morton manor was an estate of large and tremendously beautiful proportions. Roxy was the soul proprietor of it, in it's entirety. She said that she made a point to always have it occupied, though. If that be by staff, relatives, or simply troubled youth.

After she had fully dealt with the death of her father, followed by her mother, she went about changing things in the house so that it served a purpose. Since she was always heading back to school, she got her father's best friend (Percival) to help her start up an orphanage-type wing of the house. It was to be a place that anyone could go to if they were in need of good help. For troubled youth, disowned young mothers, orphans, and people just trying to hide from something or someone.
The deal was, Roxy had said, if anyone wanted to stay at Morton manner, all they had to do was pull their weight. If it be by cleaning the banisters or fireplaces, mowing the lawn, or tending to the gardens, or cooking. Young people would be taught their job and continue to work for their stay, until Roxy and Percival found a better place for them.

Numerous kids walked past them and greeted Roxy warmly, as if they were all old friends, or affectionate cousins.

"Anne! How's your new job?" They'd say, with bright smiles, or, "Anne, great to see you. It's been so long." or from the younger ones it'd be, "we miss you Anne. Stay for dinner?" All the while Eggsy was practically ignored, though he didn't mind.

Once Roxy brought them to the west most study, or her 'father's corner', she sat at his desk, and Eggsy dropped onto the antique couch across from it.

"Anne?" Eggsy shook his head with a smile. "Did you introduce yourself right when we first met?"

Roxy shook her head, "Ah, I did. I go by Anne due to my identity as Ms. Roxanne Morton being a well kept secret here. I expect you to remember that." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why is that?"

"Percival and I started this place, with those beautiful souls, because I wanted to do something good, and I couldn't bear the loneliness. It was a year, with Mr. Brock of course."

"Of course." Eggsy said, agreeing with her that her family's butler was inseparable to the house.

"You see, being the bright slightly lonely eight year old I was, I thought it'd be fantastic to have a secret identity. Percival thought so too. Perhaps for different reasons than me. But we decided that they'd always hear about Ms. Morton, the woman who ran the show and opened her doors to them, and they'd never meet nor see her. Though I'd be among them, as Anne, to get to know them all and insure that they were heading on the right path, and not stealing anything. But most of all to be their friend. I came to find out I needed their friendship more."

"A spy from the start." Eggsy remarked, staring on at her fondly. He than came to notice the painting on the wall. It was of a young married couple, who's faces seemed vaguely familiar.

"My parents." Roxy moved from her desk to sit on Eggsy's lap, her eye's never parting from the painting. "They were forced together, pushed together really. By my grandparents on both sides. They were practically betrothed from childhood. It started out alright, my father told me. But things don't always turn out the way we'd like them." Roxy sighed.

"What happened?"

"It eventually started to get ugly. Their marriage was in shambles. My mother followed in her father's footsteps and became a drunk. She would sleep around as often as the sun would rise. My father turned to his family's religion, then he clung to me once I was born. I was his life's purpose, he would tell me..." she drifted off, her eyes falling away from her mother's portrait. "When I needed her the most, she--" Roxy shook her head, "After he died... she was still the same. Always out, never around, unless she'd wanted to show me off to her friends. Which was so rare. I didn't hate her though. I never hated her. Even after I found out about all the affairs and her bad decisions. My father always said that she was a special creature. Despite her best efforts she never was cut out to be a Morton, or a mother. I think he pitied her, I know he still loved her. Even if it was the idea of her that he loved. As the young girl he spent summers with. As the woman who birthed his child. Through it all, he stayed faithful, and he never uttered a word against her. Which tops off the long list of things I adored about that man. He was too good for the world, and he deserved better."