The One With The Renaissance Faire

Original story by: Jana~

Rewrite by: Jana~

And: Exintaris

Brief author's note:

While Exintaris helped with the old English dialog, the written content in this chapter is solely by Jana.

More notes at the end, per as usual.

XX

Chapter Three

XXX

--Startled awake, only vaguely aware of being gently caressed, Monica sat upright, looking around in sleepy confusion.

Chandler's hand slid down to rest on her thigh as she propped herself against the headboard; he smiled sheepishly when she looked over at him finally. "Sorry," he apologized, "I didn't mean to wake you. I just couldn't help but touch you."

Still somewhat dazed, the dream still vivid in her mind, she whispered, "I just had the strangest dream."

"Yeah?" he asked, propping himself on an elbow, draping an arm across her as he nuzzled her shoulder. "What about?"

"We lived back in the renaissance era," she began, relating all she could remember, speaking faster with each new twist in the story, until she got near the end. When sharing the intimate details, she grew quieter, inexplicably shy, then muttered in conclusion, "That's when I woke up."

"Bummer!" he said teasingly, hoping to ease her sudden tension. It worked, but only briefly.

She smirked at him, before growing serious again. "Yeah," she agreed, "It was turning into a nice little moment."

"Well, ya'know, if you're feeling up for it, I could help you… recreate it," he offered, then looked at her hopefully.

A slight smile flickered in response, but dropped as quickly as it appeared. "I think it was because of that guy at the faire," she theorized, receiving a simple affirmative hum from him in reply.

Then further conversation, about the dream and everything else, was put on hold, the gentle affection of his kisses across her neck taking precedence.

XXX

--Her friends and brother hung on her every word, as Monica retold her dream for the second time. Uncomfortable with sharing the intimate portion near the end, she stated vaguely, "And then we consummated the marriage. That's when I woke up," she added, then reached over to the coffee table in front of her to grab her now lukewarm tea.

"Before or after the good stuff?" Joey asked, to which Monica rolled her eyes in response.

She didn't even bother answering him. After sipping her tea, she continued, "It had to be because of what that drunk guy said to me at the faire."

"Ever notice how drunk guys always seem to say something to set you off?" Joey asked, referring to the drunk guy who mistook Monica for Ross' mom in London.

Annoyed by the attempted diversion of her point, Monica ignored Joey's question and announced, "It was just a really weird dream, ya'know? And everyone was in it! You were there," she said as she pointed at Rachel, "And you were there, and you," she added as she pointed at Ross and Phoebe.

"Yes, Dorothy," Chandler quipped, "But you're back in Kansas now with your little dog Toto."

"Ha, ha," Monica deadpanned, adding sharply, "I'm just saying, it was unlike any dream I've ever had!"

"That's because it wasn't just a dream," Phoebe interjected, causing all eyes to then land on her. "It was more," she clarified. "It was a glimpse into your past life."

Intrigued but skeptical, Monica replied, "Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah-huh!" Phoebe shot back, then explained, "Some of the details weren't right, like the names, but that's probably cause it was partially colored by your knowledge of this life."

"Phoebe," Ross asked in his typically incredulous way, "How could you possibly know that?"

"Duh!" she exclaimed, her tone of voice clearly indicating that she felt the question was dumb, and the answer obvious, "Cause I was there!"

As Ross made a scoffing sound in response, Monica asked, "Phoebe, are you telling us that we've known each other in past lives?"

"Yeah," Phoebe answered with a confident nod, "Our paths have crossed a few times. Well, except for Joey," she added, "Since he's new."

Her interest piqued, Rachel adjusted her position on the orange sofa and asked, "Ok, then, what other stories can you tell us? What other time eras have we been in?"

"That would take way too long," Phoebe replied with a wave of her hand. "We'll have to save those stories for another time."

Rachel pouted for a moment, disappointed, but then perked up as an idea came to mind. "Then, tell us more about Monica's dream," she suggested. "What happened next?" she asked, which caused Ross to scoff again.

"She couldn't possibly know what happened next," he insisted.

It was then Phoebe's turn to scoff. "Oh, on the contrary Mr. Doubty-Pants!" she exclaimed, "I happen to know very well what happened next!"

--"Take me, Chandler," she said in a voice of love. "Take me as thy wife."

He needed no further encouragement. Scooping her into his arms, he placed her gently on the bed, then immediately climbed in beside her. As eager as they were, their caresses were tentative at first, carefully gauging each other's reactions as they touched and explored. But as desire swelled, all sense of nervousness dissolved.

--"Why were they nervous?" Joey asked, and Phoebe sighed in mild exasperation at being interrupted.

"Because it was their first time," she answered. "Well, it was her first time," she corrected herself. "I think it came up later, that he'd actually been with some woman from London, but that was before he'd even met Monica."

"So, then, why was he nervous?" Joey pressed further, scowling in confusion.

"Because it was his first time with her," Phoebe explained, then added, "And he was a lot like he is in this life… low self confidence."

"So, they – we - did consummate the marriage that night?" Monica asked curiously.

"I thought you said you did," Joey reminded her, which caused Rachel to groan impatiently.

"Would you just let her tell the story?" she snipped at him; he quickly adopted a hurt bunny look and started sulking.

"Fine," he huffed, folding his arms across his chest and looking away from the group.

"I woke up before anything… significant happened," Monica told Joey, but he only glanced in her direction in response.

"You did," Phoebe said, answering Monica's previous question, "And it was fantastic, according to the you back then, but, I don't know much more than that."

Chandler sat a little taller, apparently proud of his past self, then asked, "What happened after that?"

Thinking for a moment, Phoebe continued, "You guys skipped dinner, and stayed in bed until breakfast the next morning…"

--Chandler and Monica walked hand in hand down the corridor and towards the diningroom, but upon seeing Charles as they entered, they dropped their link and the smiles they wore.

After pleasantries were exchanged, they joined him at the table, but the knowing grin he wore made Monica uncomfortable, so she averted her gaze and hung her head low. Chandler just seemed annoyed by it.

"You are well rested, both of ye?" Charles asked, and while the question was benign enough, Chandler knew very well what his father was fishing for.

"Yes," Chandler answered shortly, then began to address Monica on what she would like to eat. Since the marmalade had been such a big hit with her, he started there, hoping to ease her discomfort. She accepted with a smile, but dropped it again when she caught Charles watching them intently out of her peripheral vision.

"You must be hungry," Charles assumed, "Since you missed dinner last night."

"Father," Chandler said in warning, but Charles only laughed, then took a hearty drink from his tankard.

Charles eased off after that, but Monica still couldn't help feeling her every move was being scrutinized. As the men discussed business, Monica occupied herself with her simple meal of bread and butter with marmalade, offering only a few words in answer when directly asked a question.

It felt like hours had passed, before Charles finally excused himself and left the table, leaving Chandler and Monica alone in the room, save the servants. Chandler dismissed them kindly, then put his finger to his lips for Monica's benefit, waiting until he heard their footsteps growing fainter before gesturing for her to speak.

"He knows," she whispered worriedly.

"He knows only that we lay together," he assured her. "He cannot know that it was for the first time, or rather," he grinned and corrected, "The first, second, and third times."

She blushed a little but smiled at the memory, then placed her hand over his, entwining their fingers together. "When can we leave?" she asked, the question as sudden as her intense expression.

"Today," he answered, "If that is what you wish."

"It has been a good visit," she told him, "And I have no quarrel with thy father, but his constant concern with our life together is rather unsettling."

"I shall make the arrangements at once," he promised, "But it will take time to make them, and gather our belongings."

"If it be thy wish," she suggested, "I can gather our belongings whilest thou tendest to the arrangements."

He agreed with a nod, then kissed her gently after they left the table, before going their separate ways.

--"Why was your father like that?" Rachel asked Chandler, cutting Phoebe off.

"How should I know?" Chandler answered, "This was Monica's dream, and now Phoebe's story! Ask them!"

"Typical of wealthy men in that time," Phoebe explained, "He thought everything was his business."

"Typical of wealthy men in this time, too," Ross interjected, though he did so with an air of disinterest.

Monica waved off her brother dismissively, then asked Phoebe, "So, when we left, back to our estate, did he leave us alone?"

"Hardly," Phoebe said with a laugh. "He was a thorn in your side until he died. In fact, it was only about a month later, that he showed up at your estate unannounced… with me…"

--Chandler entered the house at a full run, a ball of sweat and filth from working in the fields. The servant sent to fetch him had been vague in why he was needed. If not for that, he wouldn't have made a spectacle of himself, barging through the door.

Startled by the noise, Monica spun around abruptly, accidentally dropping her full goblet of wine on the drawing room floor as she did. Horrified by the mess she had just created, she immediately knelt to tend to it, as did the servant in the room.

Concern and distraction caused Chandler's attention to narrow onto his wife. "Why hast thou sent for me?" he asked urgently. "Is something wrong?"

Monica stood slowly, her eyes darting sharply to her left, but his expression only showed confusion, until his gaze drifted to his right. Shock registered on his face briefly, before it was forced away in favor of courtesy.

He greeted them cordially, Phoebe a little more so than his father, then asked in a rather irritated tone, "To what do we owe this honor?"

His father's reply did not surprise him in the least. Now that Chandler was married, of course his obsession would shift to having a grandson. Chandler's glare met his father's smug twinkle for several moments, before suggesting that he and Monica must discuss things, before Mistress Phoebe would be allowed to examine her.

"Mistress Monica has already agreed," Charles insisted, and of this Chandler had no doubt. She was intimidated by him, and would agree to anything he asked of her.

"I am her husband, am I not?" he asked harshly. "I should be consulted about such matters, should I not?"

His father's smirk never faltered. "Of course," he said with a dismissive wave. "We will wait here and enjoy our ale while you… discuss the matter."

His father's flippant attitude and tone irritated Chandler further, but when speaking to Monica, his voice showed no sign of it. He asked simply for her to follow him, then gently took her hand and led the way out of the room.

"I know why thou didst agree," Chandler whispered once they were out in the hall, separated from his father and Mistress Phoebe by the closed door to the drawing room, "My father can be intimidating, but if truly thou dost not want this, I will send them away."

Sighing, Monica whispered back, "We were going to send for one, anyway. If we appease him, maybe he will leave us be for a time."

A slight smile came to Chandler's face as he rested his hand against her abdomen. "Can you imagine my worry, when Nan came to fetch me, but would tell me no reason why? I don't think I have ever run so fast."

"I'm sorry to have worried thee," she apologized, placing her hand on top of his. "I thought it best, not to give thine anger time to build."

He gave a slight nod, then asked, "So, you would like Mistress Phoebe to examine thee? Maybe to even be thy midwife?"

"She has proven herself trustworthy," Monica answered…

--"How did she prove herself trustworthy?" Rachel asked Phoebe, interrupting the story yet again, but it was Monica who answered.

"She didn't tell Chandler's dad that I was still a virgin, that first time she examined me."

"Was that really such a big deal back then?" Rachel asked curiously.

"With some people more so than with others," Ross chimed in, showing that while he seemed uninterested, he was actually listening to the story.

"But they were basically forced to get married!" Rachel argued. "Love would take time, in a situation like that," she added, finally seeing why Monica had reacted the way she did, the day previous at the faire.

"Love might," Joey scoffed, "But sex? Sex is just sex! Why not just do it?"

"Because for some people," Phoebe answered sharply, "That step isn't taken lightly."

"'Some people' meaning girls," Joey scoffed again.

"The Chandler in the past waited, too!" Monica countered. "How do you explain that one?"

When Joey opened his mouth to answer, a smirk on his face, Chandler made an unintelligible noise and pointed at him in warning.

"Can we just get on with the story now?" Ross huffed in exasperation.

"Why do you care?" Rachel taunted him.

"Because the sooner she finishes, the sooner we can all move on," he answered defensively.

"Yeah, we should hurry this along," Phoebe somewhat agreed, glancing down at her watch. "I have a massage client at three…"

--Chandler paced the drawing room floor as his father looked on. He had never before been so nervous in his life, and his father's presence certainly didn't help matters.

"Thou wearest the rug thin," Charles said, annoyed. "Sit! They will bring the news soon enough."

Chandler held his tongue. This wasn't the time to get into a fight with his father. He continued his pacing, though, as a show of defiance, which gained him an irritated snort in response. When finally they returned, Charles stood, and Chandler ceased all movement, both men holding their breath as they awaited Phoebe's announcement.

She addressed Chandler directly. "Thy wife is with child."

Appearances and proper showing were abandoned. Chandler stepped quickly, gathering Monica into his arms and holding her tightly as he whispered 'I love thee' in her ear.

"Praise be!" Charles exclaimed, holding his tankard high as he added, "This calls for a toast!" Chandler and Monica broke away from their embrace to give him their attention. "Mayest thou bear a son, and may he be strong and healthy!"

They didn't care whether it was a boy or a girl, but Chandler and Monica nodded courteously to Charles all the same, then turned towards one another and embraced once again.

"Art thou as happy as I?" Chandler asked, whispering in order to keep the conversation as private as possible.

"More so," Monica answered, also whispering.

"Mistress Phoebe," Charles suggested heartily, "Let us take our leave! The soon-to-be parents have much to discuss!"

--"So she was pregnant!" Rachel exclaimed excitedly.

"Yep," Phoebe replied, "The first of six. A son, which of course made Chandler's dad plenty happy."

"Six kids?" Chandler asked with wide eyes, and then Monica rolled hers.

"Relax, Chandler," she said, "They were born centuries ago. I'm sure they're all dead by now."

"Two died in infancy," Phoebe continued, "And one died in battle, I think."

The story probably wasn't even true, and even if it was, it was centuries ago, but for some reason, Chandler felt a pang of sorrow, and gently placed his hand on Monica's consolingly in response.

"What happened to Chandler and Monica?" Joey asked, seeming to take the story a bit more seriously.

"They remained very much in love, until Chandler died," Phoebe answered. "I think he was in his early sixties. Monica died two years later, of a broken heart," she added, and the mood amongst them turned somber.

Eventually breaking the awkward silence, Rachel asked, "What happened to everyone else?"

"You married Oliver," Phoebe answered, "And had at least a few kids, though I'm not sure how many. I know your oldest was a son… I think you named him Edmund. Pretty sure Ross and Carol had four kids, but only one survived past childhood. Ross and Monica's dad died before their mom, so Ross and Carol moved in with her, to help her manage the house. Chandler's dad died suddenly… probably had a heart attack from eating all that fattening food, but he hung on long enough to see all of his grandbabies born."

"What about you?" Joey asked.

"I died a few years after Monica," she answered. "After delivering this woman's baby, her husband decided, since the baby didn't look like him, that she must've had an affair, so he killed her, me, and the baby, and then he killed himself. He was reincarnated as a dung beetle."

"Oh my God," Rachel gasped, "That's horrible!"

"Oh, please!" Ross snapped, slamming the magazine he was pretending to read down on the coffee table, "Can we please just get real here, people? I mean, forget for a moment that reincarnation doesn't exist… if you were there, how could you possibly know so many personal details?"

"I was her live-in midwife for all six of her pregnancies," Phoebe answered casually. "We became friends. Friends share details," she added with a smirk.

"I believe you, Phoebe," Monica said to her, and she smiled gratefully in return.

"I want to hear another story about our past lives!" Joey requested with childlike eagerness.

"Ok, sure, but later," Phoebe told him as she pulled money out of her pocket to settle her tab before leaving.

"Why doesn't everyone come over for dinner tonight?" Monica suggested, receiving various responses of approval.

"I'll bring the wine!" Rachel announced, which brought a frown to Joey's face.

"We have to bring stuff?" he whined at Chandler.

"No, Joe," Chandler placated, "You don't have to bring anything."

"I guess I'll come, too," Ross interjected, and all attention was on him in a flash. "What?" he asked, "Someone with a sense of reason should be there!"

"So, you're bringing a friend, then?" Chandler quipped, causing everyone to laugh but Ross, who just glared back at him.

"He should come," Phoebe insisted as she gathered her belongings. "Maybe we can crack his mind open a fraction of an inch," she added, then stood and patted Ross on the head teasingly.

Ducking away from her touch, he snipped, "Just because I don't believe in fairy tales, doesn't mean I'm closed minded!"

Knowing the argument would continue for a while if someone didn't stop it, Monica stepped in and changed the subject. "So, Pheebs, what time for dinner? Six? Seven?"

Phoebe seemed to forget all about Ross as the question was posed. "Six is good. Gives us more time for storytelling," she added, then gave a wave as she headed for the door, calling over her shoulder, "See'ya," as she left the coffeehouse.

"I'm not closed-minded," Ross grumbled, pouting in the distinct way he did when he felt he had been wronged.

When Rachel engaged him, Monica sighed and tuned them out. Turning towards Chandler, she asked quietly, "Do you believe her? Phoebe, I mean. That all that happened in a past life?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly, then asked in return, "Do you?"

Shrugging, she said, "Part of me kinda does, but, I don't know. If she had told us that story, and I hadn't just had that dream, I'd probably be as skeptical as Ross."

"No one is as skeptical as Ross," Chandler joked.

"True," she agreed with a smirk, then wondered aloud but in a whisper, "Do you think we got together in other past lives?"

"Don't know," he replied, then asked, "Does it really matter? I'm quite fond of our togetherness in this life," he added with a slight grin, bringing a similar expression to her face in response.

"I am, too," she admitted, then snuggled up against his side. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and kissing her temple, then they watched without comment as Rachel and Ross continued their bickering.

Whether a glimpse into a past life, or merely a dream triggered by a drunken idiot's words… they probably would never know for sure. But one thing was for certain… Monica was at peace. Her current life was just where she wanted it.

The end

Author's Note:

I want to thank Exintaris for taking my odd modern-ish day dialog and making it old English dialog. I also want to thank him for all the work he has put into this fic, and for his beta work, and assistance in general.

Thank you also to Venused, for her beta work, inspiration, and support!

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed! Now, I have gotten a few emails, and a post on my message board, asking me to post the original fic this was created from. If you would like to see the original, please review and let me know. This fic doesn't seem to be as well liked as others I have done, so, I need to know how many people actually want to see the original.

I have two new fics in concept, and I am still planning to continue 'The One With The Registry's Secrets'… just FYI.

Please review! And MTLBYAKY