"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 X…
"He's back…" Frances hissed, moving close to Anne, pausing as if for another adjustment… "And he seems to be looking for someone…I'm going to guess it's us."
"I know…And more likely, me…" Anne whispered back. Reaching as if to adjust… "There, milady…" in audible voice…
"Don't underestimate him…" Frances, anxious whisper. "He's killed…And transformed his share of Slayers. Thank you, Anne…You may go enjoy yourself…" raising to audible level at end…
"Ah, Lady Frances and dear Mistress Anne…" DeVere had come over to them. Beaming…
"The play's starting now…" he motioned to the door where the players were now entering from… "May I escort you to a seat, Frances? And you, Lady Anne…?"
"Thank you, Edward…" Frances, regally. Taking his proffered hand…Anne following…Pasting brief smile to his smiling look and nod…
"You'll enjoy this one…A remarkable work by our author…And quite suited to our current political situation…" he beamed. .Other guests taking seats…Essex taking a seat in front with several young courtiers. They reached a group of chairs, well in back…
"Best to keep back, much better for viewing all the activity. And in this play, there's plenty…What is it, Frances, dear? Nervous?" soulfully concerned look…
"This has passed the censor?" Frances stared at the players. "I mean the Queen doesn't appreciate unauthorized 'political' works on the stage or other public venues…"
"Which is why we are doing it in a private home, among our dear friends…" DeVere, smiling. "The Queen can hardly object to that…"
The hell you say…Frances, shaking head…
"Is it new, my Lord Oxford?" Anne, innocent tone…
"No…But a fine work, with some revisions…Frances?" he tapped Frances' shoulder as she sat… "If I may help Lady Anne to her seat?"
"Of course, Edward…" Frances nodded. He moved to stand by a chair next to another, both just behind Frances…She repressing urge to watch…Smiling at the stage while waving fan deftly.
"Madam…" he pulled the chair back for Anne who took seat. Stiffly with equally stiff smile…
"And are you finding the Court to your liking, my lady?" DeVere whispered, still standing behind her chair…
"Tis' a bit strange…But I'll adapt…" Anne replied.
"I'm sure you will…" he fell silent as the players lined up and took a bow. Hand on her shoulder…
She managing not to shrink from the touch…
Surprisingly warm in fact…Strange…Does he heat himself beforehand somehow when going out in public?
"My Lords…Ladies…Gentles, all…" Burbage stepped from the row of players…
"By the patronage of His most Gracious Excellence, the Earl of Essex…" nod to Robert. "We present 'The History of King Richard II…', by our most excellent author, Master Shakespeare."
Anne craning to see William…Then thinking better of it, settling back…
"How proud you must be…" DeVere whispered. She turning back to look at him coolly. He smiling gently back…Shrugging slightly… "Lets not spoil your husband's excellent work. Once they've begun we can go and discuss our affairs…Slayer…"
"Fine, then…My Lord…" she replied, in whisper…Eyeing him…
Indeed he does have lovely eyes…Must have been quite a fine young lad, once…
"Frances..." he leaned over Anne slightly, with a brief apology, to Frances, whispering… "I'd like to borrow Lady Anne for a bit of a stroll. She and I both are sufferers from the closed air in here…"
Frances, glance behind her to him, then Anne, who nodded. "Of course…Don't be long, Anne…I wouldn't have you miss the rest of the play…"
"We'll be back before the best begins…" Edward, quick whisper, smiling. Anne cautiously rising with him…A player catching sight, frowning…
Could show a bit of courtesy…Being the gentry…Not the groundlings…
Who at that usually are better behaved than to leave at the opening scene…
Frances, quick glance back again at the departing Slayer and DeVere, quietly moving to the back of the room and out the door. The ever-waiting Bella wanly following them…
Well, nothing I can do…Just get in her way. She's the expert, after all…she thought, nervously, trying to focus on the players…
Between Edward and Queen Bess, I am sure to be out of someone important's favor by tomorrow…If not dead, again…She sighed inwardly.
…..
"So…" DeVere, pausing in the hallway outside the great hall…Anne facing him a few feet away…Bella quietly moving to take a position by DeVere's left. "Here we are, Slayer…"
"Indeed, my Lord…Are you, in fact, a Lord?"
"What a question…" he frowned. "Of course, I'm the rightful heir of Oxford…Edward DeVere of the family line…"
"But not quite as young as you appear and give out…" she regarded him.
"True enough, but it would hardly do to let all and sundry know I'm actually a bit older than I trust I look…" smile.
"My Lord should have been a woman…" she smiled, faintly…
"Perhaps…But you, Venus, require no noble title to be what you are. A true goddess…" earnest stare.
"My Lord is too kind…And full of honeyed words. Might I ask how many of them are from my husband so I might keep track for the final billing…?"
Smile…Nod…"And a practical woman of business, to boot…Master Shakespeare, your husband, is fortunate indeed…"
"Thank you…And so, if I may ask, my Lord…Are we here to do battle? And if so, shall we commence?"
"A terrible thing to do in the house of my best friend, us both guests…" DeVere, smiling. "Come now, surely you and I are above petty displays of our prowess. I hoped we might discuss equitable terms in a friendly manner…"
"Are you offering your surrender, my Lord?"
"I thought more in terms of a truce, my Lady Slayer…" winning smile. "I know of your reputation and I trust you know of mine…"
"I do…"
"Then can we accept that we are worthy opponents and that it would a tragic loss for either of us to be taken from this world? Slayer, I'm a peaceable sort…And I realize you are more than a Slayer…No, you are a muse…" beam. "The muse of the greatest writer England and quite probably the world have ever known. A talent too great to be thrown away in a foolish and petty struggle…"
"Are you threatening William…?" hand lightly over dress…Sensing the stake at hand in the folds. Tensing…
"Slayer, if I meant harm to come to your husband. He would be here, facing harm…He is quite safe from me, I assure you. However, dear Anne…" soulful look…
Hmmn…Warm in here…
"You could be the muse of the greatest writer and power behind the throne, England will ever know…"
"My Lord...?"
"Anne…I will speak plainly. I want you for my own…To be my muse…To sit beside me on the seat of true power in this realm." he took her hand… "Dear Anne…" longing, deep stare…
"You…What?" she moved hand but did not break the grip. He took her other hand, pulling it out from the dress…
"You warm my lost soul back to life, gentle Slayer. Dear Anne…Be Venus to my Adonis…Forever…Forever, dearest Anne. Take pity on my heart and free me from my eternal loneliness…"
"I…"
"Don't speak, Anne…Just kiss me and let me know your heart is mine. My muse, my love…Oh, Anne…" he pulled her close. Kissing her lips…Pulling back… "My honey-sweet Anne…"
"Right…" she eyed him, calmly "That the best you can do?" she pulled her hands back, stepping nimbly from him…Wiping lips with back of her stakeless hand. Stake firmly gripped in the other…
Stake out and up before he could recover from his shock…
He blinking….Anne?
But, to her surprise, he deftly dodged her quick 'end-it-all-before-intermission' thrust…
"Nicely done, Slayer…" he frowned. "But hardly in keeping with a truce…"
"Who said anything about a truce except you?" she shrugged.
Door opened from the great hall…Both relaxing immediately…Stake repocketed before it could be seen…
"Edward?" Deveraux frowned at his friend…Apparently wasting valuable time on a lady-in-waiting or even some junior wench. "The play's in swing and our friends are getting a tad nervous at the content. I doubt they need to be let to think you have left us…"
"Coming, Robert…Lady Anne? We shall meet again…" smile, bow…
"Of course, my Lord…" Curtsy…
Hah…Got it perfect, too…
