Thanks to Emmylou for the idea.
Story of the Fat Lady
Chapter One: The Food of God
"Honestly Vi," the Bloody Baron wouldn't talk to me if his life depended on it."
"Oh, but he is dashing isn't he," Violet giggled, reaching for her wine glass. "I wouldn't say no if he wanted to join me in my frame, if you know what I mean."
"Vi, you are awful," the Fat Lady exclaimed. "Personally, I think the young wizard in the tapestry of the south wing fancies me. He always lingers in the portraits near mine. Maybe I should hint that he's too young for me."
"Or maybe you should flirt with him. Really, at our age and with our beauty, we should be stringing along as many men as possible. I haven't been kissed in nearly a decade!" Violet took another long swig of wine and popped a fudge square into her mouth. "Here, have some fudge. A gift from the monks across the way."
The Fat Lady took it gratefully, and remembered the first time she had chocolate. It was before she had been a portrait, before she knew the wizarding world existed, soon after the Spanish explorers had returned from the New World. Her husband, Lord Lancaster, had returned from an ambassadorship duty to Spain, and had presented her with a silver goblet full of what was then known as chocolatl.
"'Tis good to have you home, my dearest husband," Elizabeth said warmly, extending her hand.
Thomas took it in his own, and bent to kiss it. "Come, wife, give me a kiss. I've longed for you terribly this past year," he said playfully, teasing her for her stiffness.
Elizabeth grinned at him. Her husband was often like an over-grown puppy, always seeking attention and fun. Dutifully, she kissed his cheek, deciding he could have a proper kiss once the grooms and footmen left the parlour.
"You may go," Thomas said with a wave of his hand, not bothering to turn around as he dismissed the present servants. He smiled at his wife; she wore the blue gown he had brought her back from France, and her trim figured an ample bosom perfectly accentuating her sweet face and pale hands. Often, he wondered how he had been the lucky man to wed the prettiest woman of all England.
"I have a present for you," he said, taking her hands in his. "I brought it home from Spain; you'll love it."
"Well, don't tease, my lord, tell me what you've brought," she said, quite accustomed to her husband's suspenseful way of giving presents.
He reached for a silver goblet on the polished mahogany table. Slowly, he raised it in front of his face and smiled down at her. "This, dear wife of mine, is Spain's fine chocolatl from the New World."
"From the New World? Be it wine?"
"Nay, Queen of my heart, 'tis made from cocoa beans. The King serves it to all of the guests of his palace. Taste it," he encouraged, as he passed her the cup.
Gently, Elizabeth received the cup from him and looked inside of it. The thick, creamy like substance swirled slowly around the cup in a rather revolting way, and the colour was not at all appealing. She looked up at Thomas suspiciously, "You're quite sure this is not all in jest? It would be quite like you, dear Thomas, to give me a foul concoction as a joke."
"Give me your trust, my love. This is the food of God," he replied, eyes twinkling.
With great caution, she finally brought the goblet to her lips and tilted it up, to let gravity bring down the chocolatl. As the brown cream oozed toward her mouth, she closed her eyes and prepared for a rank taste. A touch of chocolatl touched her tongue and she gave a start, quickly swallowing and putting the cup down with as much grace as she could manage.
"Why, this certainly is foreign. 'Tis spectacular! It is sweet without sugar or molasses. I've never had such a thing in my life!" She looked up at Thomas in amazement. "God surely himself made this cream, you are right."
"You take pleasure in it then?" Thomas asked proudly. "I knew you would, I myself enjoyed immensely. Come, drink the rest of the cup," he entreated, raising it off of the table. "It won't do to let it sit forever."
"Oh, I couldn't possibly," Elizabeth said, frightened, backing away from his outstretched hand.
"'Tis my present for you, dear Elizabeth," Thomas said frowning slightly. "My heart would be torn if didn't use it for what it was intended."
Elizabeth took the cup from him reluctantly and tasted a tiny drop of cream once more. Again, the blissful feeling overcame her and satisfied her in a way not wine, not bread, not sweets ever did. "'Tis even more delicious the second time," she murmured, causing Thomas to light up.
"I'll bring you more," he told her softly. "As a token of how much I love thee, wife. Next month, I plan to leave for Spain and bring home sacks upon sacks of cocoa beans and directions for the cooks. You shall have chocolatl whenever you please."
"Thomas- really,"
"No objections, my love," Thomas said sternly, holding up a hand. "I intend for my wife to have the sweetest drink in all of England every day. You shall be the envy of every lady in London."
"Well, I supposed all I can do is express my appreciation," Elizabeth said, still quite shocked from the unfamiliar taste and the thought that she would drink heaven everyday for the rest of her life.
"All I need is for you to come with me to bed, dear wife," Thomas said, grinning wolfishly.
The Fat Lady shook her head ruefully. "I apologize, Vi, my mind ran away with me. Tell me again what you think of Sir Cadogen."
She placed the thick piece of fudge in her mouth and forced her ears to listen to Violet's unending speech of Sir Cadogen's midnight escapades through the Great Hall.