Tilly the Dukedog (OC), Pt. Three: Bluebells & Sodor
Part One
Part Two
Here’s the final part of Tilly’s background/life story, from the 1960s to roughly the present day! Thanks for sticking with these posts. This is by far the longest one yet, so I suggest you grab a snack and a drink before settling in. I hope you all enjoy!
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Tilly and Earl of Berkeley did their best to settle in on the Bluebell Railway. Like on the Cambrian main line, Tilly worked very hard to make sure all the new engines integrated and got along with each other. The Bluebell was among the first heritage railways; she wanted to make sure the model proved successful, to secure her and many others’ safety.
Earl of Berkeley, however, worried that Tilly was taking on too much by herself. He’d seen how driven she was on their old line, and he respected it very much. But he didn’t want to see her drive herself into the ground. “Everyone here wants the Bluebell to succeed,” he told her. “We’re all in this together.”
“…I know,” she said after a long pause. “I worry, is all. I don’t want to roll away and miss something.”
“We’ll keep each other in the loop, yeah? And you don’t have to go too far away. You can always delegate, give us things.”
The word “delegate” sparked something in Tilly’s mind. It reminded her of when she asked Edith to do something to set up a prank or a scheme in their Cornwall days. Looking at E.B., she knew she couldn’t go back to those days… but she could ensure they lived on.
So Tilly took it upon herself to teach E.B., an already cheeky soul, in all her old prankster ways.
There were practical reasons for doing this. She knew that most of the engines joining them were anxious and traumatized. Giving them things to laugh at, things at which to redirect their focus, would help them settle in and relax. It would make things run a little smoother.
Tilly also missed doing that sort of thing. Her schemes on the Cambrian main line were serious, caught up in the hard times and the desperation of it all. Times were still hard and desperate, of course. But thinking it over, she thought more good humor would’ve been helpful back then. She only couldn’t bring herself to do it again without her partner in crime.
Yet she still longed for a return to something much more lighthearted. She knew Edith would long for it, too. And that was enough for her to push past those buffers.
E.B. proved a skilled student who kept her and everyone else on the outer rims of their wheels. While lacking Tilly’s silver tongue, he had a knack at making people feel in on a joke. He was a class clown at heart, good-natured and happy to entertain. He laughed at himself more than anyone else, and that made him easy to trust.
For the first time in years, Tilly let herself loosen up a little bit too. She let herself grow closer to the other engines, being a friend as well as a counselor. She got in on some pranks and lighthearted schemes.
Nor did she stress over representing her line so much. While she was still representing the Dukedogs, so was E.B. They collaborated on educating guests about the GWR, their class, their lives as Bulldogs, and their Duke friends. And the Bluebell’s officials, unlike the GWR, supported their efforts.
As Stepney became the face of the Bluebell — of preserved steam engines, even — Tilly saw the anxiety under his mask. She shared her past experiences. Whatever reassurance she had, she gave to him. “It’s not the end of the world,” she told him after one gaffe.
“I know it isn’t. I just want to be a good representative for the Bluebell,” he said, looking at his buffers. “A engine losing his temper with the photographers is hardly that.”
“You were stroppy, but that happens to people. You’re a person. And so were our loved ones. Being imperfect and complicated is the best way to represent them, really.”
Stepney blinked, looking up. “I suppose so,” he said after a beat.“Can’t let them think we were all perfect angels, can we?”
“Oh, no.” She grinned. “Worse than historically inaccurate, that’d be boring.”
He barked a laugh at that.
In return for Tilly’s help, Stepney used his influence to push for more institutional support of her and E.B.’s efforts to educate the public. And he encouraged her to have her own fun, joining her and E.B. There were a couple prolific April Fool’s Days on their railway.
Knowing how she wished to respect Edith’s adventurous spirit, Stepney also told Tilly about his visit on Sodor. Curious, she joined him on several additional Sudrian trips.
I could probably fill up books talking about her dynamics with Sudrian engines, so I’ll restrain myself here to talking about her interactions with one character: Duck.
This is spilling over into yet more headcanon territory, but you guys remember how Duck told Peter Sam that “all Dukes were scrapped?” That remark isn’t incorrect, but it isn’t the full story, either.
It’s probable that Duck didn’t want to get bogged down in all the details while talking to Peter Sam. But I also like thinking he didn’t go into more detail because he never quite got over it. What if he had some friends in the Dukes, and was grieved and horrified to see new faces on their boilers?
“It was necessary for the survival of the Great Western,” he’d tell anyone who asked about it. And he believed it. He knew that no Great Western engine is above another, that it’s their Way to help each other in any way possible.
But for all that Duck cares about the GWR, I think he also cares about his individuality, feels the need to express himself in small ways. The idea of his bodily autonomy, already very limited, being disrupted in such a fatal manner for another engine, might’ve disturbed him. He wouldn’t blame any Dukedog for that, but he would struggle to lay responsibility at the feet of his beloved old railway.
Rather than deal with all his complicated feelings about this, I suggest here that Duck suppressed it. He avoided thinking about it, talking about it in detail.
So Duck didn’t speak much to Tilly outside of their first meeting. He was polite and civil in their few subsequent interactions, but always tense. It reminded Tilly of how other GWR engines responded to the Dukedogs in the first few months after the rebuilds.
It took years for Tilly to enact a successful plan to talk to him. He was slippery, but she eventually managed to finagle some down-time with him across several visits. It might’ve been better if she was less insistent, but that wasn’t her nature to let things lie.
Tilly’s first thought was to reassure him the way she did the others, saying she grieved the Dukes too. She tried this when they had a lull in their work together. Duck appreciated this and said so, but he still acted kind of uncomfortable. Tilly soon came to realize that this was tied up with his feelings about the GWR after further conversation.
Her perspective on the GWR — that it wasn’t as special as people made it out to be, often flawed like other railways — was a jolt to Duck. He disagreed at first on reflex, on principle, and Tilly took some offense. Things got heated.
But they managed to calm themselves by the next time they saw each other.
“I can’t tell you how to remember or feel about the Great Western,” Tilly said. “That was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”
Duck looked away. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’ve needed to think about it all for some time now, if I’m honest. I’m sorry I was so rude to you.”
“We were rude to each other.” She edged closer. “I… what I should’ve said is that it’s alright to have conflicting feelings about the Great Western. If it weren’t alright, I don’t think I’d still be here today.”
“It’s the Great Western Way to carry on, no matter the fuss or how I feel,” he said after a beat, glancing back at her. “And I’ve done my best at that.”
“Indeed. You can’t be that much of a traitor to the railway, then, if you’re still here.”
“I don’t mean to suggest you’re a traitor to it, or to any of them. You’re carrying on too, honoring your… Edith, was it?”
“Yes.” She drew in a breath, feeling her lower lip tremble all of a sudden. “I — I’m glad you think so.”
Duck rolled alongside her, slow and quiet. “I know so, from what I’ve seen of you.”
Tilly took a moment to recollect herself. Clearing her tubes, she said, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re carrying on the best parts of the Great Western. Edith would be chuffed to see you pushing for solidarity, for respect in the yards.”
“…thank you.” Duck offered a small smile. “I think you’re doing much of that, too.”
“Well. I’m not that respectful if I hounded all this talk out of you, am I?”
“Ah, there’s always next time — especially on this railway.”
Tilly and Duck keep in touch to this day. They enjoy each other’s company and respect each other’s approaches to the GWR, agreeing there’s more overlap than they first thought. Duck’s rigidity on the Great Western Way softened over time. And Tilly grew a better understanding and respect for the ways people carry out histories and legacies.
With her visits, letters, and work on the Bluebell, Tilly rarely feels lonely or unfulfilled these days. She’s keeping on in all the ways she knows how, remembering and loving and learning. She works to honor Edith’s wishes in the same breath as her own.
On the most recent anniversary of her rebuild, she went out on a long run and spoke to Edith as she traveled. She talked about how things were going, about how she looked after the boiler and cab. “They’ve mended it a lot over the years, you know,” she said. “It might not have any of your original iron anymore.”
She paused, feeling the wind on her face. Water sloshed inside her in lazy circuits, trailing a second heartbeat alongside her pistons.
“But that’s alright. I’ve kept your iron in other places, staying ever so busy and silly.” She smiled. “It’s hard work, and it’s worth it. All of it.”
Originally known as the ‘Duke of Cornwall’ Class these engines were designed to run on the Cornish lines of the GWR. The first engines were built from 1895 -1899 and then a similar engine known as the Bulldog class replaced them from 1899-1910. In 1936 the Bulldog chassis were fitted with Duke class boilers and the class became known as the ‘Dukedog’.
