"Twilight for Anonymous…"
Disclaimer: Not mine but thine...O, Joss!
Archived at the Cicelyverse page of the Buffy Rebecca verse, or direct to story at www...
General audience level...
Summary: In a past life of Buffy and William, a certain story- and scene-stealing vampire gets his much-deserved desserts…
Part IX…
Southampton having mercifully found another interest for his flittering mind, Frances at Anne's urging moved through the great hall of Essex House to give the Slayer a gander at her prime target. Hopefully allowing for a quick confirmation of his nature and a kill based on the evidence…Frances nodding…
Nice to know of a Slayer who pays attention to the niceties of occult justice…A minimal degree of proof being "nice"…
"My Lord Oxford…" Frances bowed to DeVere who'd stepped forward from a group of Essex' men… "A pleasure to find you here. My new maid, Anne…Just to Court, daughter of Lord Sho.." cough…
"My Lord…" Anne, stiffly. Though not too badly, Frances noted with relief…
We may just pull this off…Particularly if she offs Ed quick.
"Frances…Welcome…You grace our little effort. And you, my lady Anne…" polite nod…Careful look…Smile…
"We must pay our respects to your other guests, my lord. Pray, pardon…" Frances smiled.
"Certainly…But do not abandon me for the entire evening, dear Frances…Anne…" DeVere, warm smile, flourish of hand. Anne curtsying with Frances…
Not bad as to looks, if a bit on the weedy, pretty boy side. Of Burbage's "soulfully pinin'" type, were he human. But definitely Undead, though good at faking the breathing and keeping a bit of red in the cheeks…Anne thought as she followed Frances carefully, a step behind…
Yes…DeVere frowned after them…
Like I believe that one is either a Lady or a lady's maid. It seems dear Fran has betrayed me, no doubt in her own self-interest…
And from the aura, it could only be the Slayer…
Hmmn…Yes, fits the descriptions I've had…Bit on the hefty side but not bad…Comely in her way without doubt. And with a few pounds shed, a veritable Venus… Yes, I see where Shakespeare got his inspiration on the poem…No doubt about it…
Will require considerable retraining though to slough off that clomping farm girl charm, but Edward DeVere is up to the challenge. I shall be Pygmalion to this country Galatea. After all, if Shakespeare can see something in her besides a deft ability with a wooden stick…
Certainly not the first girl I've reshaped into an ornament somewhat worthy of Court. Not to mention, me…
And never hurts to have a Slayer bodyguard/cow… After I deal with the little genius husband…
Or, rather she does…After I make use of my greatest talent. He concentrated. Wives' tales are for fools, he told himself and moved to eye the large looking-glass to the side of the great hall, from which Essex rarely moved far. Yes, there they are…Those beautiful soulful blues, death literally to any mortal woman …He eyed himself, struggling to overcome his remaining slight fear. If I can't see myself, am I gone? He looked himself over carefully…No dissolution…One merely has to firmly overcome one's childhood superstitions and one sees one's self in the mirror…Voila…No cringing child of the night is DeVere of Oxford. Girl…He eyed Anne dutifully trailing after Frances…
You may have a fine rep but you have met your match…Romancewise as well. He gave a slightly wistful look Anneward. Just reving the old horse…Given we may have to move quickly on matters before the Queen decides to ring down the curtain on us…
Yes…I so fondly remember my last Slayer, worshipfully declaiming her passion for me even as she plunged her stake into her former lover's reeking gore. Did I keep her after she finally succumbed to my years of feeding? Ah, right, she's still a housemaid/bodyguard on the estate. Had that footman of mine stage her death "in battle" to fool her Council when she was at point of transformation. Yes…A rather sweet girl, in her living days, really…
Somewhat less so, now…Well…
One gets so sentimental about such things when one has a truly poetical sensibility. But no time to dwell on the past glories…The future spreads…He glanced at Anne's rather overconfined bosom…Indeed…Before us…
"Can't you get him alone?" Anne hissed to Frances as they continued their rounds. Frances rather into her element now as female courtier…Rather intensely interested in the talk in various dark corners regarding Essex' coming bid for power…
"Careful…" Frances hissed back, smiling warmly at a young blade eyeing her, waving Anne to a corner…
"Act like you're fixing my dress a bit. And then stop looking at me like you're my elderly aunt…You're supposed to be a court lady's maid. This sort of thing goes on at Court…"
Anne, frown…
"Well, they'd best not try my patience…" she insisted. Pretending to fuss at Frances' dress lace…
Frances, annoyed…But restraining her response. "It's a game…We all play…"
"And Willie? How does he mind the game…At his expense…?"
"As if you cared about him…" Frances glared. "But, yes, he tolerates it…It's how he makes his profit or hadn't you noticed while putting his life at risk? Yes…" her voice low and rather bitter. "You don't mind put him at risk of life and limb yet you want to protect him from the likes of me. Who only lives to make him happy…"
Anne, startled…
"He lives by his contacts at Court, girl…" Frances, grim hiss. "Why do think I let fools like Essex and Southhamption near me, letting the Queen think I'm fond of them and risking her wrath at times like these? Information is power, Slayer. You ought to be knowing that, given what Willie gives you has saved you many a time…"
"Fine…Me apologies…Now when can I have a crack at our pretty boy vampire?"
"You're the Slayer, not me…Shhh…" Frances, eyeing an approaching figure. A tall, rather handsome blonde young member of Essex' circle…
"Sir Francis…" she beamed. Moving to meet him and partly blocking Anne… "How nice to see you here…"
"Lady Frances…" the young man bowed…Taking her proffered hand…
Anne repressing frown…Carefully maneuvering to the side…Scanning the room…
No DeVere…Essex busy with a group of twits including Southampton… Uh-oh…She caught sight of Hemmings, entering the room after the wan Bella…
Johnny…
Do not want to be spotted by the troupe just yet. She slid carefully between Sir Francis and Fran, still engaged in light banter…
"Anne?" Frances eyed her…
"Just wondered if you need anything, milady…" Anne, hastily.
Hmmn…A rather big one…Sir Francis noted…Not without interest…
"No, no…Just enjoy yourself…Mingle a bit…" Frances, pleasantly.
"Our Anne is new to Court. A bit shy…" she noted to Sir Francis…
"Delightful…And from where, Lady Anne?" Sir Francis, beaming smile…
"Stratford on Avon…" Anne, not thinking…
"Really?" Sir Francis, curious…
Moron…No one comes from there. I distinctly tole you several northern locales nobody knows well…Frances, glaring…
"Yes…Daughter of Lord Nor…" cough…
"Northumberland?" Francis blinked. "I'd no idea he'd lands there…"
"Yeah, pleasant seat…A little country place no one knows of…I was raised there, to keep me away from influences and such…" Anne noted.
Hmmn…Johnny off to Essex…Must be about time to start…
Ok, not spotted…For the moment, safe…
"How nice…You know I believe our author of tonight is from there…" Sir Francis noted.
Bet your rather too ridiculously high boots he is…Anne thought, proudly…
And nowhere near…
"Though, I have heard. Tis really our own dear Oxford…"
"The hell he is!" Anne, loud enough to obtain stares from several…
Jesu Christos, girl…Frances, sighing…
"Anne's quite the playgoer…" she hastily dived in… "Become a real fan in her short time here…"
…..
"Ah…Shakespeare…" Edward had gone to meet with the actors and author a final time…
Hopefully, literally that in the case of the author, he thought.
"My Lord…" Will bowed. Turning from his reading to Burbage of several tricky new lines…Burbage bowing as well…
"We should all be assembled now…Are we ready?"
"At your command, my lord…" You stinking bit of rotting Undead…Will thought.
"Burbage…I trust the additions will not be too much for you." DeVere eyed Burbage who frowned…
I know my business, you foppish little…
"Not at all, my lord…" elegant bow…
And looking forward to seeing you at the execution…Fixed smile…
Though God knows Will…Fun's fun, but I have a dear little wife and family who need me…In a single divinely handsome package…Burbage eyed Shakespeare as DeVere nodded and moved back to the door of the great hall. Several footmen springing to open doors for him…
Time to get to know the Slayer better while she unoccupied…DeVere noted to himself…
Something tells me she already knows the play quite well enough. And will therefore be more interested in me…Assuming she lives anywhere near enough to her reputation to have detected me…
"It'll be fine, Dick…" Will hissed to Burbage. "I take full responsibility if anything goes wrong…"
"Now there's a comfort…It had better be…"
Essex now entered from the great hall. Hemmings following…
"Are your…People…Ready?" Essex looked at Shakespeare…
"My Lord…" Will bowed. "Gentlemen…" he turned to the troupe…
"Let them not be too…" Essex waved a gloved and perfumed hand… "…dramatical…Yet not lacking in…Drama…" shrewd glance…
"They shan't my Lord…" Will sighed. Jonson now by his side, rolling eyes…
Lord…
"…Nor too…Comical…Yet not without some…Comedy…"
Comedy? Jesus, has he even read this play? Jonson thought…
"Certainly, my Lord… Gentlemen…?" Will urged the troupe, sternly eyeing several struggling to repress chuckles… "Johnny…Ready…?" he glanced at Hemmings who stepped forward…
"This earth, this realm…This England…" Hemmings, grinning.
"And yet, to be sure…We do have some romance, I trust…?" Essex eyeing the two actors in ladies' wigs who smiled daintily at him. Simpering a bit…
"Oh, yes, my Lord…If we may but…" Got to find something to use this idiot in after he's met the block. He's just too good to pass on…
"Good…Good…And some of the poetical, eh? I rather fancy the poetical…Not to write the rubbish myself, you know…I'm a man of action, really…But in a play and all…Rather fancy it…"
"Plenty of poetical, my Lord Essex…" Will nodded, pleasant tone. Kicking quiet Burbage's attempt at "altogether too much…"
"Fine, fine…Well then, let the actors come forth. This play's the thing that will catch the conscience of England!" Essex noted.
Hmmn…Will eyed him…
Not a bad line…Though "England" doesn't quite work…
