"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 XV…
The corridor of Essex House outside the Great Hall…
Anne attempting to cover Will without clearly displaying stake under the folds of her gown…
Essex and his rather puzzled but relieved…Hey, any chance to find a way out of this trap we've boxed ourselves into by so committing ourselves to Bob over the years…Never expecting a man as close to a son as Eliza could have could be stupid enough to lose her majesty's favor…Supporters eyeing the Shakespeares from their end of the corridor, currently accused of Catholicism, rightly enough…And treason, not so…By their associate, the Earl of Oxford.
Unbeknownst to them, the more or less physically immortal Earl of Oxford, Edward DeVere…
"Surrender, you papist traitors!" Oxford demanded, standing by Essex, with nobly erect pose befitting a savior of the realm…A Noble savior of the realm…He smoothed a lace ruff on his sleeve.
Must have this scene painted sometime for posterity…Oxford nobly facing down the papist traitors with Essex by his side…
Well, Bob looks the noble hero part at least…Hyperactive dunderhead though he may be…
Hmmn…Anne pondered…
Heavily armed guards now in front of the nobles, pointing both swords and the occasional gun… Hate those things, she eyed the guns.
"Yes, surrender, Shakespeare…" Essex insisted.
Knew there was something wrong about that uppity peasant…
"Lady Anne…?" the rather foppish Southampton, to Essex's right, peered at Anne as she grimly faced the guard… Rather a tad downcast…
Though we had something there, girl…
"She's no 'lady'…" DeVere sneered. "A peasant's trollop and a treacherous Papist to boot. Guards?! Do your duty, but take them alive!" he cried, pointing.
"Yes, alive…" Essex nodded to the guards' captain regarding him… "They shall be examined before the Queen herself this very day…And I shall be vindicated! The Cecils, no doubt their employers, brought low!"
Hmmn…You know, it might actually…Edward considered.
Well, always did hope Bob might survive this, for the sheer joy of watching him bumble about, bringing disaster to friends and foes alike…But more importantly, Shakespeare must…
"Alive, gentlemen!" he insisted. "Surrender, you two! 'Lady' Anne?" he turned back to the Shakespeares, mocking tone… "Don't force us to kill an admittedly very talented wordsmith. Surely the Pope your master can ill afford to lose such a man!"
You…Anne fumed…But had to respect the various weapons trained at her and more importantly to her, Will.
"Anne…" Will urged.
"Not without you…Idiot…" she hissed.
"Surrender, you!" the captain of the guard now took charge...Signaling for his men with waves to advance and seize the hapless-looking couple…
Whoa…Lady Frances had entered the corridor from the Great Hall, the audience having become restless with the play over and various prominent members having gone off to the corridor…
Restless in the sense of…We really ought to get the hell outta here before Eliza hears about this little performance and sends in the Royal Guard…
"Lady Frances!" DeVere whirled on her… "Seize her as well, she brought the trollop here in disguise! A viper in our Queen's very closet! Oh, the treachery….!" He gave shocked look, shaking head solemnly…
Shit…When he bats those big blues of his even I might condemn me…Francis sighed.
Wow…Essex looked over…
Quite a nice little conspiracy here…
This really could save my ass and keep my lovely head firmly set on my shoulders…
Not that I ever had any doubt of the justice of my cause, of course…It's just…I've had real trouble getting people to see the light…Ole Eliza in particular…
But I just know with a papist plot to back me up, I'll be back in my seat on the Privy Council and on my way to regency-city in no time…
After all a few solid hours of torture with the royal interrogators in attendance of course…
"No!" Frances cried, trying to rush back, but seized by one of the other audience members and a hastily dispatched guard, she struggling.
Anne now letting herself be taken…No way to avoid Will being skewered or shot just at this time with the guards moving in. Will fuming but reluctantly following her lead as she made supplicating gesture of surrender and the guards seized them both.
"To the dungeon with them all! Keep them separated lest they plot further!" DeVere called to the guards. "By your leave, my Lord Essex…" he turned to Robert whose reverie of restored glory held him…Hmmn?
"Ah, yes, yes, of course…To the dungeon cells with them! Just so!" Essex agreed.
Ah, my day is really shaping up well, DeVere thought, pleased, watching the three hauled off down the corridor, Anne staring back at him with icy look.
I think…Hmmn…
…..
"No one to leave, Lord Essex's order…" a grim-faced guard in armor vest, sword prominent in left hand, eyed an annoyed Ben Jonson at the door from the improvised stage to the entry- and therefore, exit-, way of the Great Hall.
"Now see here, fellow…" Jonson began…Cut off by cutlass point, pressed to throat.
"No one is to leave." Grim repeat.
"I see…Well…I'll take up the matter with my Lord later, thank ye man…" Jonson gasped out, stumbling back to where a nervous knot of actors waited.
"Seems we are to enjoy Lord Essex's hospitality a bit longer, lads…" he noted to the troupe quickly collecting about him.
"Dear God…Are they Essex's …?" Burbage, nervous glance to the grim soldier at door… "Or…?"
"Essex's men…Not the Queen's…Yet." Jonson, somber look.
"Ben? What's going on? Did we offend somehow?" Hemings had come over from the back of the improvised stage. "I'm tole we're not to try to leave, on pain of death…All the ways are guarded."
"Death?" Burbage blanched. "But we're artists…And some of us, including me, have wives and children…"
"We were set up…" the young actor in drag shook head. "Essex is clearin' his name by accusing us of rebellion…" Anxious looks all about the stage…
"Nonsense…" Jonson, waving hands for calm. "How could that be? You were hired for a performance, that's all. He'd be implicating himself."
"Well, where's Will?" the young actor frowned. "We're being held here for a reason…A deadly one, it seems…"
"Gentlemen…" the quietly languid voice of DeVere now moving up to the front of the Hall to them, Bella wanly following. "Have no fears, I apologize for the need to hold you a bit longer. You will be compensated for your time, I assure you."
"My Lord…" Hemings approached the edge of the stage, facing him. "What is this about? Have we offended Lord Essex?"
"Not at all, Master Hemings, not at all. A fine performance as always…" DeVere smiled. "Bella, dear? Go and ask Lord Essex's steward to see that ale and mull wine are brought for our friends here, along with some meat and bread." She bowing, moved back and out through a door.
"Thanks t' ye, my Lord. But. May we know of the matter here?" Hemmings asked. "And where's Will Shakespeare, my Lord?"
"Ah…" DeVere sighed. "Now there is the heart of the matter, lads… I'm afraid Master Shakespeare and his wife are held for treason, in our glorious Queen's name."
"What?" Hemings…Burbage…Others…
Damn…Jonson sighed inwardly, trying to maintain calm…
The young actor in drag shaking head… I knew that radical play of Will's would get him and us in hot water one day.
"Have no fear, the matter doesn't touch you. In fact, I am happy to offer you both my protection and my patronage…If you'll consider it."
"We're at your service, my Lord…If the Lord Chamberlain and the Queen consent…" Hemings nodded. "But, as to Will…Treason, my Lord?"
DeVere, shake of head, sigh…
"It seems Shakespeare has deceived us all, lads. The man's a bloody papist, a spy for Rome. He and his wife have been the agents of the breech between the Queen and Lord Essex for the Vatican's evil purposes which we will, rest assured, uncover. But Lord Essex holds none of you responsible…I assure you. I assure you gentlemen that you have my word that you'll be protected from all of this sordid business." Solemn nod. Elegant raise of hand bearing snuff pinch from a box on chain about his neck to his nose…The various players and stage hands eyeing him.
And quite sincerely…I'll need your fine memories of the actors' notes for all the unwritten works as well as the talents of the finest acting troupe in England to bring Shakespeare's…My…Further works to immortal life.
…..
The dungeon of Essex House…
As dungeons go, not the worst…Relatively modern construction, clean…Given the firm grip of Henry VIII and his heirs over the last century, few notables have been able to hold many prisoners outside minor transgressors and for any lengths of time so that the cells are fairly clean and unsoiled.
However it does not lack for its share of gloom, rats, stinks, and a fine collection of torture implements are on display on the walls. Just the barest light via a few small ground level windows…
"Help! I'm the Queen's favorite lady-in-waiting! Get me out of here!" Frances cried out through her bars, rattling door. "Guards! The Queen is coming and she'll reward the man who saves me… Hey! Anybody round?!"
Lazy shits…Where's the duty guard? She frowned.
Private prisons, no accountability, no sense of propriety, she sighed.
"Lady Frances, I don't think anyone's about…" Shakespeare called from his cell down the hall, across from the one Anne was currently pacing in. "Our time might be better employed in…"
"Don't speak to me, you bloody Papist!" she cried. "How dare you drag me into this business? I'm a good Protestant…"
"Demon…" Anne called back from her cell.
"That's beside the point…And I'm mostly human and quite sincere in my faith. How could you put me in this position?!" Frances replied. "What will the Queen say?"
"'Pity they cut out the girl's entrails and hacked her head off after hanging her alive.'" Anne noted, coolly. "Drawin' and quarterin' is the way for high level treason types, right? Unless she beheads you as a mercy to a noblewoman and friend. We'll probably just be burned, small fry…"
"Anne…" Will tried.
"Well, I'll not let some trumped-up demon in a stolen body lord it over us. We've a right to be Catholic or Protestant as we like." Annoyed tone. "Though I'm rather a free-thinker meself."
"Blasphemy and treason!" Frances cried.
"Now my lady…" Will, soothingly. "Anne only meant that all are free to follow their conscience so long as they maintain allegiance to the Crown."
"Stuff and nonsense…You are radicals." Frances fumed. "I try to help you two as proof of my good intent and a favor to Willie and look at the thanks I'm repaid with… Oh, my poor mother t'would be so ashamed if she still lived." sigh.
"Eh…She wasn't your mother!" Anne, surly cry.
"In all but the giving of actual birth to my spirit…" Frances, annoyed. "How dare you?!"
"Ladies, please…" Will sighed. "Lady Frances, you might keep that wrath for better use…"
"Will?" Anne called over. "I think I might be able to break the lock open here, if I can loose myself from these chains…" she shook manacles.
"We'd still have Essex's guards to contend with. And the lads of the company are his and more importantly, DeVere's prisoners-in-all-but-name now. We can't endanger them."
"A bunch of lice-ridden actors…" Frances fumed, listening.
"Hey! Our friends!" Anne cried back. "And the finest actors in England…"
True enough, Frances reflected…Still…Some considerations must come first. As in the survival of the nobly born…At least given said nobly born's condition…
"Of course main thing is to get you out, Will…" Anne noted. "You're what DeVere wants."
"He seems to have taken a fancy to you, too, Anne." Shakespeare noted.
Frances, a bit annoyed, listening…What am I, Lady Frances Worthingham, daughter of Sir Richard and his lady? Chopped liver?
"He likes to torment Slayers and show off his powers to seduce…" Anne replied. "Not that you've any fear of me in that, Will." Earnest call.
"I know, dear." Call back.
"Oh, please…" Frances called. "He's looking for a new cow, you're it, Slayer. Now, Master Shakespeare, if we could consider something important, what did you mean by…?"
Door opening, bringing light…
A figure with candle in doorway…Bella, Will recognized.
"Mistress Bella?" he called as she shut the door and walked to the row of cells.
"Girl, get me out of here! In the Queen's name…!" Lady Frances demanded.
"Patience, my lady…" Shakespeare…
"I…Can't…" Bella, wanly. "He'd be angry." She came to Shakespeare's cell door. "I'm to watch you in case the Slayer tries to escape. I'm to hurt Master Shakespeare with this…It be a pistol, Slayer." She noted to Anne across the way, raising a pistol clutched in hand, then took stool near the door.
"Bitch! You harm my husband and I'll tear your little head from…!"
"Anne…The girl can't help herself." Will, reprovingly. "It's all right, Mistress Bella. We understand you mean no harm."
"I have to hurt you if the Slayer tries to escape…But I'm not to kill you." She noted, wanly. "I'm to die before killing you…"
"Oh, you will! I promise!" Anne howled.
"Anne! Forgive my wife her temper, Miss." Shakespeare smiled at the seated Bella who had looked at Anne with anxious expression, now turning back to him, vague smile to his.
"She's had a long day and she's rather fond of me…"
"If she doesn't try to escape, I don't have to hurt you. Please tell her not to…" Bella urged faintly.
"For now, she won't, dear." He smiled.
"Bloody unlikely!" Anne, grimly.
"Anne…"
"Fine." Tone changing immediately as he coughed.
"William?! Are you all right?! Girl, get my husband a shawl! This damp's bad for him! His lungs don't take damp well!"
"I'm fine, Anne…" he called.
"The hell you are! That's a racker… Girl, you get that shawl or your Lord and Master'll be pissed!"
"Well, I'm not 'fine'!" Frances cried. "Girl, get my Lord Essex! At once…! Tell him Lady Frances is ill and demands he see her. And something decently warm for me as well!"
"I mustn't leave, my lady….Slayer." Bella intoned, nervously. "He'd be angry…"
"Oh, pull yourself together, girl!" Frances, annoyed. "Let the Slayer out and she'll protect you. Besides, she's right. Edward will be angry with you if Master Shakespeare sickens and dies."
"I mustn't…He'll…" Bella, nervous pondering…
#$%!...Frances cried, stamping foot.
"It's not her fault, my Lady…" Will pleaded.
"It's not fair. I did what I could for you. I won't die here, with my innocent baby!" Frances howled.
"What?" Anne, startled. "My Lady?" Will equally startled. Bella wanly staring down her cell's way…
"Baby…Yes…I'm…Pregnant." Frances sighed.
"But aren't you…?" Will called down the hallway, delicately…
"Demonic spirit, human body…Quite pregnant capable."
"How can you be pregnant? You're a lady-in-waiting. You told me relations with men were forbidden..." Anne, firmly.
"And I said that was the ideal and a lot of the girls had to take recourse to dealing with such troubles…Much to the Queen's distress…" Frances sighed. "But unlike most of them I've only the one time, God forgive me. With the fellow I love…"
"You're kidding, girl…" Anne, shocked. "Willie? You're pregnant by Willie?"
"Slayer…?" Bella, vaguely disturbed. "This doesn't sound like appropriate conversation. Lord DeVere doesn't like me to hear inappropriate conversations. I'm already too defiled, he says."
"F- Lord f-ing DeVere!" Anne, grimly, calling down to Lady Frances. "You're carrying Willie's baby? My Watcher's baby?"
"Don't worry…" Shakespeare told Bella as she anxiously listened. "He won't find out from us. Tell me about yourself, Mistress. How did you come to be here, with this terrible man?"
"So?" Frances called back to Anne. "He's my feller, not yours." Annoyed tone.
Or he'd better be mine and not yours, girl…
"And you tell me this, now?" Anne cried.
"Good Lord, we're consentin' adults, girl." Frances fumed. "And your damned Council's never paid Willie a penny for his work. You've no call to rule whom he takes a fancy to…"
"He invited me…Years ago…I was plighted to him by my mother as he was a distant but wealthy relation…" Bella told Shakespeare. "He says Mother sold me to him like the cow I am…"
"He's me Watcher! And tis me damned business if me Watcher f-s a hybrid demon!"
"How dare you! Willie's put his life on the line for you, Slayer!" fume. "Though it is a bit embarrassing, given my position in Society and court. Though I love Willie dearly." Frances sighed. "I'm sorry to have lost my temper, Master Shakespeare, I'm fearful of my child. I mean no callousness toward your friends."
"Does he know?!" Anne called.
"It's all right, my Lady! I'm sure you're not a cow, my girl…" Will, gently to Bella. "So your mother thought him the current Earl and had no idea?"
"I don't know…" Bella shrugged. "Mother was very anxious for money after Father lost his fortune to bad winters and died. He says she wouldn't have cared in any case."
"Not yet…" Frances sighed. "Not really sure how to tell him…But if I can bear it out of sight and let him keep it to raise…"
"You'd give up your child…?" Anne a bit angrily.
"It's done all the time when the girl can't deal with it beforehand." Frances replied, in some heat. "The Queen would take it, cast it with the orphans, and dismiss me. She doesn't tolerate her girls breaking the rules. Besides, I'd not abandon it. Willie'd just take the main charge till I would retire from court. He's very good with children, you know." Fond tone. "We just have to keep the Queen from learning of the child till then."
"I'm sure that's not true." Will told Bella. "But you came to him to marry him?"
"Aye…" Bella, staring away…
"She sounds like a bloody monster like her father." Anne called to Frances.
"Mistress Shakespeare!" Frances, shocked. "You speak of the Queen! It's not her rule, the Court is required to maintain standards. She'd be disgraced throughout Europe. Even though the French are like…God…Babies dropping like flies…"
Hmmn…Will pondered, listening.
No, not really suitable for the stage….Still…If one changed the setting to a foreign land and made it the Queen herself pregnant…
On the other hand, he eyed Bella's nervous look under her lassitude…This one, if we could get the story of a sadistic nobleman past the censors, even without the vampire bit…
"Nothin' but a lot of bloody hypocrisy…" Anne shook head.
"Perhaps…" Bella, vaguely to Shakespeare. "I could call a guard…Tell him you're ill and in need of a blanket…" wan smile.
"Tis not the Queen's choice and I did violate my oath…" Frances sighed. "But t'was only the one time…Dear Willie meant no harm, it was me…" shake of head. "I was lonely, in love, and foolish."
"With Willie?" Anne, tone of disbelief…
Wait, what's with that milksop of a girl and Will there…? She peered across at them.
"What's that to mean?!" Frances, angry now. "You may be the Slayer but you've no great credit to your name else. Yet the greatest playwright in England loves you… Why shouldn't a gentle soul like Willie have won my heart?!"
"Sorry, girl." Anne called. "Just hard to see Willie that way… Will? You all right? Girl, is me husband…"
My Husband, girl….
"…all right?"
"Some might say the same of you, Slayer…" Frances groused back.
"Oi!" Anne, fuming.
"I'm fine, Anne. Thank you, Mistress Bella, but there's a bit more, isn't there?" Will to Bella, gently.
She looked away, clearly embarrassed.
"He's a handsome fellow with a sincere air. You're not to blame for falling in love with him. You did, didn't you?" he eyed her.
"Yes…" sigh. "I loved him. He was so kind when I came and I was so afraid. He said I was beautiful and he would love me forever…"
"Men do that often enough…" Anne, turning back to them.
"But he meant it, Slayer…" Bella, some eagerness now. "And I…"
"Oh…" Anne, hard look. "You accepted the 'gift'?"
Bit of a vamp's slut are we, eh? Grim appraisal…
Yes…Bit too winsome and appealin'…Will's a good heart to pity the lass but time to nip this tete-a-tete in the arse.
"I…" nervous look. "He said we could be together, forever. If I would join him…If I loved him enough. He was so lonely and he said he would wait for me to decide. And…He did…Months."
"But you did, in the end…" Anne frowned, listening. "What, you had no thought of what it meant? That you'd be a killer too?"
Little Mistress Innocent…Uh, huh.
"No…" Bella protested feebly. "He never killed that I saw…Then. He said he never killed or harmed unless it involved an evildoer. 'I'm a vegetarian, Bella.' He said."
"Really?" Will stared.
Snort from down at Frances' cell…Anne across from Will in her cell clearly of Frances' opinion…
"He told you he was a vegetarian vampire?" Anne, incredulously. "And you believed him?"
"Anne, sweet…She'd probably never heard tell of the Undead…" Will noted.
"What, she thought he drank plant sap?" Frances chortled.
Ay, good one…Anne grinned.
"Will, dearest? You sure you're all right?"
Concerned as I am, truly…Never hurts to do a bit of the sweetness and winsome bit oneself. Not to say that that "shrew" business is anything true to life but things do get tense and I do have a temper at times which I may…Just possibly let out of hand…Rarely.
Never did trust this one…She eyed Bella. It's always the milksop "victims" who can't wait to sign the vamp contract on the line… And enslaved she may be but I see she's still careful as to dress and hair…
And I am damned sweet…And winsome within reason…
When it's called for…
"I'm so ashamed…I'm sure I was foolish to trust him so…" Bella sighed to Will. "I deserve what happened, he says…Maybe…" she brushed long hair back with hand…
Eh…I know that move with the hair, Anne thought. Done that move and with Will…Why that little…
"No, not at all…" Shakespeare, to Bella kindly
"I do harm to others in his service…" she shook head sadly. "I do as he bids, forgive me, sir…"
"Oh, I'm sure you not done that much…" Shakespeare began…
"Oh, Lord! Will! Enough! We'll kill DeVere and free you, girl but you'd better be of some use!" Anne called across. "My husband may indulge hisself, but I've no time for coddlin' wanna-be vampire's whores. Oh, don't be lookin' at me like that Willum Shakespeare… Who knows how many she's killed in his service?"
"Anne…!" Will, reprovingly as Bella wept softly.
Perhaps just a bit harsh, Slayer…Frances thought.
"Twelve, ma'am…But I never wanted to…" Bella, sadly. "He…"
"Twelve?" Shakespeare eyed her.
"I believe so, sir. To protect him, sir…Though the milkmaid and the butcher's boy were just for fun, he said…" Oh…She reflected. "He had me do it so as to see the maid's father blamed for the crime. That would make it thirteen, I'd reckon, sir…"
That pale little…? Frances blinked…
"There's your innocent lamb…" Anne noted, archly. "You'll find her cutting your own throat when DeVere's done with you. You'd've done that for him, eh, girl? You poor vicious little killer…"
"Only when he commanded, ma'am…" Bella, pleading tone. "I can't refuse him…I'm sorry, ma'am…"
"She should tell you of the time she let a Slayer have it in the back. Eh, Bella?" DeVere's amused voice.
