"Twilight for Anonymous…"
Disclaimer: Not mine but thine...O, Joss!
Archived at the Cicelyverse page of the Buffy Rebecca verse, .com 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 XI…
"'…can all the water in the rough, rude sea…Wash the balm from an anointed king?'" Burbage pronounced, staring out at the audience of gentlefolk before him.
Jesu…Hemings gasped under breath. Several other actors equally stunned.
Not a pronouncement now, but a question? Christ, if old Eliza ever heard it put that way…
The King himself, questioning his own sanctity?
Will, what hast thou wrought? Nervous glances about…Even as a pleased Essex, in the front row of seats, nods at Burbage. Well put, fellow…Well put.
Shakespeare in the wings to the left, carefully eyeing the audience…
Well, they wanted it, they got it…He glanced at a number of rather anxious faces among the audience.
Seems a bunch got more than they bargained for…
A few quickly attempting to wipe the anxiety from their faces as Essex looked back at his guests.
Stout lads, all…He nodded to Southampton who gave a confident if clueless look back. As several among the guests commenced to quietly looking for exits…
Frances sighing quietly in her seat…My God…
There might just possibly have been a chance for Essex…Exile, banishment from court, financial ruin to be followed by the Queen's eventual restoration of a part of his fortunes, after a suitably lengthy penance and desperate pleas for forgiveness with sealed promises to avoid politics forevermore. But now? Alls I see is an ax in that poor foolish boy's future, much as it will break Eliza's heart to kill Dudley's step- and likely natural, if rumors be true, son.
However, she looked round nervously for Anne…There are even more immediate concerns. If DeVere has acted true to form and the Slayer has failed, it's time for Frances to give notice (on parchment, to the guard officer, not to be given to the Queen for twenty four hours) and betake herself and her Willie to France, at the very least.
"My Lady…" Anne's voice, from behind. Frances, relieved, turned to eye her.
Hmmn…Nope, not enthralled and ready to break my neck at her new Lord's bidding…Though definitely not really to begin a victory parade. Still…
"Did you and Lord Oxford have a pleasant chat?" she asked.
"Till we were interrupted, my Lady." Anne nodded, looking up to the stage cautiously where Burbage was now continuing his tragic downfall as Richard II.
"But I look forward to meeting my Lord again, soon." She noted, the slightest bit of grimness…Oh, Lord…She tried to pull back as she caught Shakespeare, backed by Jonson, looking out from the improvised left wing…Her way.
God damnit, Annie…His hard stare her way.
…..
Door thrown open from a small room to the hall which DeVere and Anne had had their interrupted rendezvous, with rather surprising force given the pale and slight source…
"Bella?! Bella?" grim call. A bit more forceful and angry and far less languid than usual for the source.
A wan Bella in her maid's outfit rising from her seat in a chair in the large hall… "My Lord?"
"There you are…Come!" DeVere ordered. Bella, head bowed, moved to him. "Don't dawdle, girl!" he insisted. "You've not been bled for a couple of days."
"Yes, Lord." She picked up her pace a bit, reaching him, peering in at the room in which her Lord had vented his wrath, destroying a cabinet and various items in manner quite removed from his usual pose of langor. "Do you require me, Lord?"
"In another's home? Don't be foolish, you silly cow!" he glared. "And as for anything else…" sneer. "I'd say your rather limited charms have longed ceased to be of any interest to me, cousin."
"Yes, Lord. I am sorry to be of so little help to you, Lord." She nodded, bowing.
"You know, it's unbelievable…!" Oxford fumed at the hapless, waiting Bella, stalking up and down the hallway now.
"My…Gracious…Lord…?" she asked, flatly…Watching him.
"That this…This kitchen wench of a Slayer!…This country cow in court dress!…Uneducated, unadorned by any light of proper family or breeding!…Like her damned husband…That she should refuse me!" he raged, pausing in his stride, a bit petulantly. Calming in a moment as she wanly eyed him.
"How may I serve you, Lord? Shall I attempt to kill her, Lord?"
"What, you?" he chuckled with sneering overtone. Eyeing her at the end a moment… "Tis true, coz, you did once take a Slayer or two by surprise in your youth…They do tend not to see you coming when you seem so helpless a victim." Smile. "But not this one, she's not such a fool as those others."
"No, Lord." Bella nodded.
Reflective nod. "Yes, really more of a challenge…As I was told. Indeed…" he smiled, relaxing a bit. "I really should be grateful at last to have such an interesting foe." He regarded Bella.
"Well, dear, you may yet be of use other than as a cow at that…It is possible at the right moment an appeal from you could distract her. Yes, I think there's use for you yet, Bella. I will allow you to live and serve me a bit longer."
"Thank you, gracious Lord." Bow.
"After all, if you never will be my bride, family is family and I much prefer to feed from the right source, my own noble line. And our little letters to and from your grasping, greedy mother do so amuse me at times. It has been a year since the last woeful tale of your evergoing debaucheries, hasn't it?"
"Yes, Lord." Nod.
"Yes, plenty of time for you to have degraded yourself yet again, my dear coz and would be bride, with yet another degenerate…I think our next letter should come from Berlin, yes? A sturdy Teutonic Knight your latest deflowerer, again leaving you penniless and with child, surviving by means we merely imply?"
Grin. "I savor your mother's cover letter to me, enclosing yours, begging yet again for help for the wayward daughter lost to sin she would have foisted on me as Lady Oxford years ago. But you know, I rather think she's jealous of your escapades across the Continent, dear Bella? A certain tone of bitter jealousy always manages to creep into her pleas for additional help for you even as she yet again debases herself, though of course somehow the money never seems to reach you in your pitiful distress. I suspect your mother has rather sticky hands in that regard…"
"Yes, Lord…" Bella, flatly.
"An enjoyable game for now, at least till your younger sister reaches a decently marriageable age and we start all over again with her. But she should be even more amusing, given the letters you've sent her of your pleasures and wanton ways…Between the debauched sister and the viciously greedy mother, dear Lottie is sure to be quite the interesting little character. When time allows we must write again to her as well, telling her of your sordid delights…Defiling her soul even before I do." He took her face in his right hand. "I think once she takes up your role as my sustenance, if you still live, I may send you into one of my private brothels to serve a few friends who are of use to me. Tell me how pleased you would be to be allowed to serve me in such manner…"
"Yes, Lord…I'd…Be…Pleased." Nod.
"Virtuous and dull as ever…" sigh. "Let's hope your sister has more of the DeVere spirit. But, such weak virtue appeals even to a Slayer like Anne. They sense it, bubbling even through what I've created out of you. Yes, I sense underneath the practicality of the milkmaid, our Slayer has a romantic streak. She married the greatest poet in England after all…She might be more cautious but she too suffers from the human weaknesses of pity and compassion." He considered, resuming his more usual languid air.
"Poor Bella, helpless victim of her ancestor/would be groom…You might win her sympathy at that." Nod.
"Thank you, Lord."
"Of course you might need a few good bruises and a scar or two. Our Slayer is probably the type to need a grosser physical appeal to her sensibilities." He smiled, looking her over. "Any way, for the nonce, we have our business here to attend to. Go to my Lord Essex and see that he is satisfied with the performance…Tell him I was taken ill but am recovering and will see him after the play to discuss matters of state. And see if our fair Slayer has joined her husband. And if not, tell Master Shakespeare, Lord Oxford wishes to speak with him a moment."
"Yes, Lord."
Smile… "Tell him the matter concerns his wife…I think that should encourage him to come. And that I will be waiting…In the rear of the great hall, with people about. I imagine he's aware now of my nature from his wife…Or at the very least been cautioned not to find himself alone with me. And, Bella?"
"Lord?"
"See that the Slayer is aware of my summons…It's important 'Lady Anne' comes in his wake, seeking to protect her little fellow from my menace while avoiding a battle in public."
"Yes, Lord." Flat stare, nod.
"And of course we must see out our own little playlet as to poor dear ole Robert. By now his 'friends' must be beginning to desert the sinking ship like rats. Events should be reaching a head there shortly." Smile.
"Yes, Lord."
"Dear Bella…" he patted her. "Forgive me my nature…I suppose as arranged marriages go one to you would have been less intolerable than many. Now, if you would…?"
She nodded, turning…
Ah, he thought, feeling for the packet in his jacket…Thank God I didn't destroy this lovely thing in my wrath. My ticket to Immortality, the real kind…He patted the bundle of papers. Now to have this copied in my own hand, dispose of the little fellow, and establish myself as the greatest playwright in English…Hell, human…History.
Surely there could be no better revenge…
