happyfalcon | [For Thomas] Changing Seasons

[For Thomas] Changing Seasons

There was no doubt, it had been hard. In the weeks that followed, Anne only got a few fleeting looks at Thomas Wyatt. Every once in a while they were able to steal fleeting kisses of the briefest touch of fingers at banquets. The letters they wrote were far more significant. Poetic verses, promises, sweet words - both were exchanged in equal passion.

But recently, Anne's happiness had taken a drastic drop. Henry had been pressuring her lately, wanting to make his relationship with Anne more public. She had refused, coyly at first, then logically. Her argument had been that, while he was married, it wouldn't do to have them both seen in public together. Henry had agreed at first without question. Recently though, he had started to grow annoyed. This would have been fine, except that Thomas Boleyn was beginning to feel the pressure as well, and was pressuring Anne to accept the king's public advances.

What else could she do? As the days grew darker, Anne turned to the only person she could trust without question: Thomas.

Anne wrote a letter, quickly and carefully when she finally had a free moment:

Dearest Poet:

Would that I could write of my fondness for you now; to tell you, as I often have these past days, that it is you that I love more than any. Alas, today I write to you with the gravest matter - The Lion seeks to show off his prize to the jackals that surround him. To show that the falcon is his, and belongs to no other.

What shall the falcon do, dear heart? You know well of the others that surround it, and the dangers the falcon faces should it refuse The Lion - though it wants nothing more than to do so.

I hope, dearest love, that you and your most brilliant mind are able to manifest some solution.

Until then, Poet, as always you have my heart, and my happiness lies with you alone.

Sincerest love,
~Brunet

Hopefully, Thomas's crafty mind would identify the new characters she developed to avoid dropping names. The Falcon, herself; The Lion, the king. What could she do? What should she do?

Slipping out of her chamber, folded letter in hand, Anne stepped down to their designated spot. No guards, no prying eyes in sight. Still, Anne kept the letter in her sleeve until she reached the left urn. Pretending to drop a bracelet, Anne dipped down to retrieve it, slipping the letter into the urn swiftly in the time it took to grab the bracelet and stand up. She continued on without a word.

Hopefully, Thomas could reply to her soon.

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It was too easy, dangerously easy, to drift off to sleep in his arms, in bed beside him. Silently, in her dreams, Anne cursed fate for keeping this from being reality. That it could not be her lot in life to call Thomas Wyatt her husband and lie with him each night. As she'd promised, Anne had awakened while it was still dark, though the sun was cusping the horizon. Carefully, so as not to wake him, Anne brushed a kiss to the corner of his mouth before slipping from the bed. She donned her nightgown again and opened the door a crack.

Anne could hear the servants bustling in the kitchen and the dining room below, but no such stirring upstairs. Quickly she slipped from his room and started for her own. There came the voice of her father from down the hall, and it was all Anne could do to duck into her room and shut the door before she heard his approach. She leaned against the door, her hand over her mouth to silence her breathing.

But he was passing her room, barking orders to a servant who no doubt followed him. Instructions on what to prepare for breakfast for his guests. As their voices faded, Anne breathed again and slipped into bed. Some hour or two later her own servants knocked and entered her chamber. They roused their still-drowsy mistress and got her dressed in a fine blue gown with a band of sapphires and pearls to decorate her hair. Anne then made her way downstairs and found her sister and parents already seated at the great table as the servants set tray upon tray of food upon it. George joined them shortly after Anne and sat across from her. As she plucked a pastry from one of the trays Anne pointed out the sorry state of Thomas's clothes that she had noticed yesterday, indirectly putting the suggestion in her mother's head that he should have a clean shirt. Elizabeth took the bait and sent a servant to fetch their guest a clean shirt and take it to him. As the servant left to obey, more guests began assembling at the table.

There was much to eat at the table: bread, ale, even beef considering the Boleyn wealth. The pastries were a favorite of Anne and Mary, who had developed a liking for them in France, thus many guests were surprised to see that particular menu item. Elizabeth was whispering business to her husband when Wyatt approached - Anne, in an effort to make it seem as though his presence was nothing special, continued nibbling her pastry.

"Good morning Master Wyatt!" Mary greeted him cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"

Anne looked up as anyone would look up to hear his response, though she knew what the answer was likely to be. But already she noticed that several guests were summoning servants to ready their horses, as they were preparing to leave. Which made sense, the weather had improved a great deal.

This suited Anne fine - it meant a much more intimate gathering later that evening. And less guests to catch her with Thomas.

((Had to look up breakfast of the Tudor era since I had NO idea - if you want to add a menu item feel free!))

He turned to George first, although from the corner of his eyes Wyatt had already spotted the one he was most anxious to see. Blue dress, pearls in her hair. The sisters sat side by side and the chair George was pulling out for him was directly across Mary.

Wyatt laughed apologetically and patted his stomach. "I am starving, that is true. And thank you for asking, Mary, I couldn't have slept better. I doubt I had woken up even if there had been a thunderstorm." His dreams had been a little wild but that was a minor detail.

He got seated and finally managed to cast a direct look at Anne; a friendly smile and a nod.

"There's a healthy color at your face again. You were quite a sight last night," George noted while pushing plates of meat in Wyatt's direction. A servant filled a cup for him.

"I must have been," he admitted, "but the bed was so warm, I swear it felt like the frost was kissed off from my face." Wyatt moved his hands under the table to make sure that the little ring Anne had given him was turned the right way in his finger, the gems facing his palm. After that he took hold of the knife and cut himself some bread.

"This is the whitest bread I have seen in a long time," he praised, bringing the piece close to his nose.

"Make sure you leave room for our special treat, pears preserved in mead," Mary cut in, eyes bright. "The recipe has been passed on through the generations."

"I will be sure to try them, then. And you, miss Anne, is there something you'd like to recommend?"

Edited 2014-10-12 21:46 (UTC)

Anne smiled and returned the nod in the greeting he'd given her. As George pushed the meat towards Wyatt, Anne made it a point to snatch a piece of pork belly from one of the plates for herself. Mary gave her a scolding look for the act. But her gaze returned to Thomas as he spoke. Anne ignored her sister and cut herself a piece of bread, on which she lay the piece of pork belly for her to bite into.

The soft sweetness of the bread and the saltiness of the pork was indeed delicious. Anne always did feel privileged to have such luxuries.

Mary bragged about the pears, but Anne had never cared for them. As much as she enjoyed sweets, the mead-preserved pears had always been a bit too sweet for her palate. Her dark eyes glanced up as Thomas posed the question to her. Anne looked thoughtful for a moment before pushing the plate of pastries towards him. Delicately iced, they each had various fillings in the centers, some were cherry while others, Anne's favorite, were apple.

"If it's something sweet you'd like, these are my favorites, always have been," Anne replied. "The apple pastries there are particularly good."

As if to prove her point, Anne bit into her own pastry and chewed slowly, taking a moment to lick the icing from her lips.

"Take care not to eat too many Nan, you'll either get a terrible toothache or you'll grow rounder than Saint Nicholas himself!" Mary laughed as she teased.

Anne had been mid-bite when Mary had started speaking and froze in her place when the sentence was finished. She glared at her sister before taking her bite and chewing slowly again.

"You eat just as many as I, Mary. Take care to mind your own advice dear sister," Anne teased her sister right back. Though Mary didn't take kindly to it and took a long sip of her drink.

"Apple it is then," Wyatt replied with a smile that widened as Anne made a bit of a display by licking her lips. He reached for one golden, round pastry and set it at the edge of his plate. The rest of the plate he reserved for meat and bread and some pickles. The pears would probably be passed down the table in due time.

Thomas Boleyn cleared his throat as Anne and Mary picked on each other, making George, who was just about to join his sisters with the insults, change his mind. Wyatt would have wanted to take Anne's side but he too realized this was not the time for it. He did glance at her quickly before sinking his teeth into the pork. Battling the weather the previous day had been well worth it to be able to feast at this table. Wyatt couldn't help but sigh as the greasy piece of meat traveled down to his stomach.

"Thank you for such a warm welcome to your home, Sir Thomas," he started before swallowing properly. "I'd like to offer the invitation for you, and to your wife, to visit Allington at your chosen time. Father would no doubt be pleased to entertain good friends."

"Thank you, Master Wyatt. Let's hope there comes such a time soon."

"And may I also thank whoever was kind enough to ask a servant to bring me a new shirt this morning. It was very thoughtful indeed."

"It was mother," Mary was quick to say. Elizabeth Boleyn simply smiled at the end of the table and Wyatt nodded at her direction. Still, he did wonder if that was the whole truth. Mayhaps it was the truth that Mary was aware of.

George was wiping his plate with a piece of bread and then going for a second round with the food. "We had plans to go riding after breakfast. Me and William here," he said, meaning a dark haired man sitting next to him. "You must come along." William was the youngest son of a minor noble, a shy young man who would probably not amount to much in his own right but who was a friendly sort all the same. Wyatt knew little of him but had of course seen the man at court at times.

"Sounds like I can't say no," he replied, yet thinking that George's aim was to get rid of the ladies. He really could not say no. Thankfully the day had just began and he was sure there would be enough opportunities to be with Anne as well.

Anne and Mary expected George to butt in on their bickering, but of course their father put a stop to it. Mary turned her head down to her meal while Anne simply bit her lower lip and took another bite of pork and bread. There was saltiness on her lips that Anne licked away before taking another bite of bread. Her eyes did light a bit at the idea of her parents being invited to Allington when she would have liked to have been invited herself, but she knew such was unlikely.

Mary may have chirped up and given their mother all the credit for delivery of the clean shirt to Thomas, but Anne's mouth gave a slight twitch. Of course she wouldn't outright call her out. But her eyes did flicker up to Thomas, winking quickly before Anne bit into her pastry again - a bit of sweetness to combat the saltiness of the pork.

"We couldn't have you walking around in those damp clothes of yours all day again, Master Wyatt," Anne added. "You'd catch your death of cold!"

Anne pitied Wyatt's poor horse, having to endure the traveling yesterday only to have to run about with her brother's steed again today. But she said nothing and her expression betrayed no displeasure. Mary had already expressed interest in wandering the snow-covered gardens. Anne didn't care for the cold, but coming in from it usually meant hot mulled wine afterwards, which Anne enjoyed immensely.

Besides, and this brought a smirk to Anne's face, she had plans of her own - there would be plenty of time to spend with Thomas later.

"Let the boys have their fun, we'll have a snowball fight of our own, won't we Nan?" Mary giggled.

"Not in those dresses you won't!" Elizabeth Boleyn snapped.

"Of course not, mother," Anne smiled diplomatically at her mother but glanced to Mary with pure mischief glowing in her eyes.

Thomas Boleyn was not as harsh a man as he sometimes seemed to be. As George mentioned riding, he realized the exact same thing that was on Anne's mind.

"Son, you should let Master Wyatt have your horse. You can... take mine." So he did hesitate a little, valuing his own horse highly and not wanting anything to come to it on the frozen roads. However, there was no need to drive Wyatt's animal to exhaustion again. "Do not be reckless, though. Promise me."

"I promise, father. We just can't be cooped up here all day."

"Nothing against the present company, of course," Wyatt made sure to say. He could well hide himself to that nice little room all day with Anne but it wasn't an option.

The rest of the meal was spent in a pleasant atmosphere with topics ranging from weather and food to court gossip. Wyatt got a description of the Christmas festivities that he had missed and he himself revealed to have been delivering King's messages and travelling along the coast. That he had visited France was something he was not yet comfortable to tell.

Some guests had indeed decided to leave now that the weather was favourable, but a small group was still staying until next day. Dancing and games, as planned by the hosts, were still going to happen.

Afterwards the young men got dressed up warm and vanished to the stables. Wyatt saw that his horse had been well taken care of already and not suffered from the journey. Nevertheless he was happy to be riding George's horse today instead. They took of towards west, to the small village of Edenbridge, but decided against venturing quite that far. However, they did stop to visit a couple of neighbors nearby and to wish them all the best for the new year.

Wyatt couldn't completely shake off his thoughts of Anne, even if George and William were perfectly fine company. Upon returning to Hever, he thought he heard voices and laughter near the stables. Mary had mentioned wanting to frolic in the snow-covered gardens. Maybe Anne was out and about, too.

Anne smiled to herself, a little too happy that he made the offer. Her father could indeed surprise her with his generosity. He wasn't a total monster, not that she'd ever had that intense a thought. It gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, she could appeal to his kinder nature and he would free her from the requirements he'd placed upon her. A small hope, admittedly.

Once breakfast had concluded, Anne and Mary rinsed their hands and set about doing needlework and reading by the fire for a bit. But this didn't amuse them for long. The sisters soon ran to their rooms and changed into warmer clothing. Mary wore light-colored furs while Anne wore darker furs. The elder Boleyn sister wanted to walk through the gardens, while Anne retrieved apples from the kitchen to take down to the horses.

Anne indulged Mary, joining her in the walk through the gardens, admiring the snow and ice-covered plants. Soon Mary became bored again and wanted to go inside to warm up. Anne waved her sister off and turned to the stables, apples in hand. Removing her gloves, Anne held one apple up for her horse, flat on her palm for him. Eagerly he gobbled the apple up out of her hand.

There was a snort from behind her and Anne saw a familiar horse in one of the stalls behind her. Thomas's horse. Looking healthy but still a little weary. Anne had faith that the stable boys were taking care of him, but she saw no harm in giving him a little extra attention.

"There, there now," she spoke softly, stepping up to his stall and holding an apple up for him. The horse sniffed a bit at her hand but soon was just as eager as her own horse to eat the apple. Anne reached up with her fingers to rub against the horse's velvet nose. "I'm here."

His fur was soft beneath her palm as she stroked down from his forehead to his nose. The horse nudged his snout gently against her arm, smelling another apple Anne had stashed in her cloak. Anne gave a soft laugh as she reached for the other apple.

"You want this, eh? Very well, here you are then," Anne held it out for the horse to again eat greedily. "I'm rather fond of them myself."

Wyatt approached the stables, walking George's horse. A stableboy followed behind with the other two horses; George and William had either gone straight back inside or decided to wander around a bit. Wyatt wasn't really sure which. Anne could definitely hear and see him coming in and Wyatt himself had heard her last statement.

"Especially when made into a delicious little pastry, is that not so?" Hand on the reins, he stopped by Anne's side, letting the boy pass them. "I am envious of good ol' Flyer here, to be pampered with sweet apples."

His horse, Flyer, let out a loud neighing sound at the sight of Wyatt and craned its neck toward him. "Missed me already, boy? Even with your new-found lady friend here?" He reached out to stoke his gelding.

"He looks fine. I'm relieved," he turned to say to Anne. Then he guided George's horse to its own stall. The boy would see to it once he was done with the others. Wyatt glanced around. Nobody else seemed to be snooping around.

"I was hoping to see you alone," he said quietly, leaning a little closer and brushed his hand against hers. "Can we talk here?"

Anne chuckled when he approached and spoke of his horse, of Flyer. Her fingers ran along his long neck as he turned to his master.

"I doubt your dear Flyer would enjoy the pastry as much as the apple filling - whereas I enjoy the whole pastry itself," Anne chuckled. "And after his journey with you yesterday, he deserves a little pampering, does he not?"

Then Thomas was closer, sparks traveled up Anne's fingers when his hand touched hers. She nodded slowly, her eyes glancing about to take role call of the stableboys. Two at least were around somewhere, though Anne couldn't see them at present. Giving Flyer's nose one last stroke, she turned and glanced about for a moment.

"There," she tilted her head towards a small walled-in section of the stable. It was where spare reins and saddle blankets were kept. As it was full, there'd be no need for the boys to look in there; thus it would be a fine hiding spot for them.

Anne crossed the aisle of the stable, glancing to Thomas playfully over her shoulder, bidding him to follow her. She stepped behind the wall into the little nook. She gathered her skirts behind her to make sure she didn't give them away. Once he joined her, Anne's reaction was automatic, to smile as she leaned into him.

"Alone again," she chuckled. "Did you enjoy your ride?"

"He does indeed, like his master who already got a fair share of pampering last night," he laughed right back.

Wyatt followed with long lazy steps. Once hidden from the open areas of the stables, his hands immediately found their way under Anne's warm fur cape and around that slim waist. He couldn't help but smile wide, forever astonished that he was truly here with her. Wyatt pulled her hips to his, leaning back enough that he could watch her in the eyes.

"Yes, my love. I enjoyed the ride with your brother, and William, but I would have enjoyed it more with you. We followed the river towards Edenbridge and saw some deer. Everything looked beautiful."

Wyatt tilted his head to the side and frowned a little. He tapped the floor with the tip of his boot and twisted his ankle. "Um, I apologize... as if... now what is that bothering my leg?"

Loosening the grip of her but not totally letting go, he bent down to feel inside his boot. "Hmh, isn't this strange..." He glanced up, and smirked.

"Close your eyes." When he was sure Anne wasn't peeking, Wyatt stood up straight again, a step away from her and placed a long delicate object in her hands.

It was a silver hat pin that had a pearl at the end and some decorative swirls around it. He had kept it safe between the linings of his boot.

He kissed her gently. "You can open now."

((OOc: I'm pretty sure he stroked, not stoked his horse :D. In my previous tag.

For the hat pin, see this post:
https://www.etsy.com/listing/186572076/vintage-candace-stolley-bindu-jewelry?ref=shop_home_active_23

Not the first image, but the 4th one, with 8 hat pins. On the far right, there's one with blue stone. Something resembling that, but with a pearl.))

Anne's hands slid up from beneath her cloak to rest against his chest. Though they weren't content to stay there long. It seemed to be her instinct to slide them up and wrap her arms loosely around his neck. He was warm against the chill of the air, and she loved it. She smiled at his description of his morning events - such a ride did indeed sound beautiful, and she was a little envious that she had missed it.

"Mary and I did precisely as she said: We walked about the snow-kissed gardens, though they were lovely I would have preferred to go riding with you. I can see the gardens anytime."

At his sudden strange expression and the movements of his foot, Anne tipped her head curiously as well. She glanced down - nothing seemed odd or out of the ordinary about his leg. But then she looked up, oh, there was that smirk of his. She knew what that meant. With a smirk of her own, Anne obeyed and closed her eyes. Because of its secure location in his boot, the metal of the pin was warm in her palm as he gave it to her. Curious, Anne's brow furrowed, but she did not open her eyes until she had been instructed to do so.

The awe was evident in her eyes. It was lovely, and unnecessary - he hadn't needed to give her a gift. Anne leaned up to kiss him again, a bit deeper than he just had. Even when she broke the kiss after a moment, Anne kept her face close to his, just far enough away that she could meet his gaze.

"You spoil me so," she smiled. "It's beautiful Thomas, thank you. Wherever did you get it?"

((ooc: I figured as much :P

But oh God I loooooove etsy!! So many prettiful things :3 ))

Wyatt chuckled, pressing their cheeks together and whispering into her ear. "Nay, not spoiling you. I'm trying to seduce you, remember?" He ducked down to kiss her jawline, not really able to go further down because her fur cape was securely around her neck, fastened with a pretty clasp.

Drawing back a smidge, he looked at the hat pin in her hands. "Hm, it might need polishing, having travelled all the way from Dieppe inside my boot."

He did expect another curious expression from her at that admission, so Wyatt simply smiled and took hold of her shoulders before continuing.

"Brought to you from your beloved France. I believe I can confess that much now. When I left Arundel, I travelled to Seaford and took a ship across the Channel. On King's business."

He reached for her hand that held the pin. "I wanted to find something fashionable for you but Dieppe is no Paris. Thankfully there were some peddlers selling goods. I wasn't able to buy you velvet for your dresses or hats with peacock feathers because you couldn't explain them to other people."

His mind created an image of Anne at the breakfast table, pearls in her hair. "When I saw this hat pin, I thought to myself, she likes pearls, does she not?, and this gift is inconspicuous and she can wear it without questions."

((OOC: I admire all those clothes people make. Such talent.))

Anne smiled at his proximity, his cheek pressed to hers. She could have teased him, pointing out that Henry often tried to seduce her by showering her with gifts. Only this was...different. Very different. In the first place, this wasn't something Wyatt made a habit of, whereas every day it seemed like Henry was trying to give her some necklace or brooch. Second, Wyatt's gift was small, tasteful, not over-laden with gems as Henry's gifts were - far too gaudy for Anne's taste half the time. So Anne could only smile, clutching the pin in her hand and holding it close, as if it were the most precious possession she owned.

Then indeed she gives a curious expression when he mentions Dieppe. Anne tipped her head, but before she can ask, he already explains. Her teasing smile is back again - this time there's no need to be quiet.

"Ahh, so you not only missed my performance and your sister's, but you also went to my beloved France without me," Anne pursed her lips a bit, tilting a brow. "Thomas Wyatt, what on earth am I to do with you?"

But she was already answering her own question, leaning forward to press a soft kiss upon his lips. After a moment she leaned back to hear him explain how he'd thought of her in Dieppe and procured her present. With a smile she reached up to draw her fingers along his jaw.

"You're far too kind, my love. You needn't have gotten me anything at all," Her arms wrapped around his neck again. "Having you back in my arms again is gift enough."

Not wanting to appear ungrateful, Anne leaned forward again, bringing her lips to press against his. This kiss lasts a bit longer, conveying all of her passion, all of her love. When she pulls away she doesn't move far, just far enough to look into his eyes.

"But it's wonderful, I do love it."

((Makes me absolutely envious - makes me wish I had half the talent to make those things. A lot of my jewelry is actually from Etsy, come to think!))

"Mm-m, you can do that...," he agreed to kissing. Making sure she wasn't pointing the pin towards him, Wyatt dared to pull Anne closer. It had been far too long since he had kissed her the last time. Getting close to twelve hours, probably.

"I wanted to bring you something. It felt wrong to go without you and I could have used a companion who speaks French as well as you do. I fear the Inn keeper charged me more for the room than he would have done if you had been with me." Saying that made him wish he could travel with Anne. To see different places and to stop at picturesque locations.

"Not that I would ever take you to Seaford. That place is not for ladies such as you." There lived women, of course, even respectable ones, but a small, yet visible group of whores loitered about the docks among the drunk sailors.

She was eager to kiss him more and he had nothing against it. Like so many times before, his hands traveled lower, then lifted her leg up. He ran his hand along her thigh, trying to find a way under her skirts.

Anne chuckled, reveling in his kiss. His lips, so soft and warm compared to the prickling of his beard against her face. But it was a sensation she loved, one she craved.

"In Dieppe and Seaford? My dear Thomas, if you didn't come back with coin to spare then you were indeed cheated," Anne chuckled. He knew just how to stroke her ego. None spoke French better than her, or so she boasted. "But I doubt any bargain you'd get from me being with you would have anything to do with my skill in French."

She shuddered though to think on it, so instead she focused on just touching and being touched. On impulse she allowed him to move and touch her thigh. Anne seized his lips in another kiss, pulling him that little bit closer.

Ah, but she had challenged him, had she not? Was she really about to make it so easy for him to seduce her? Certainly not!

Slowly Anne broke the kiss and leaned away, bringing two fingers up to tease against his lower lip. A slow smile crept across her face.

"Ah, ah, ah - a lady's not so easily won, Sir Thomas," she tipped her head, taking a moment to lick and nip at his earlobe. Then she whispered: "It'll take a bit more than that to seduce me."

"Oh, it wasn't quite that bad. I was rewarded handsomely for my troubles and didn't come home empty handed even after I bought the gift for you as well as for my dear sister." Part of the money he'd had to leave with the undeserving captain on the return voyage but Wyatt had his hopes up that Henry would be generous upon his arrival in London.

He tilted his head forward in order to get another kiss but all she offered was a smile and fingers teasing his lips. Very well, he playfully captured those fingers between his teeth with the intention of not letting go... but she was at his ear again. He sighed and lost the game right there.

"Anne... who's seducing whom here?" he chuckled but not at all ungrateful. He brought up both hands to hold her face, his long fingers stroking the side of her neck. Wyatt was quiet for a moment, then not giving her a chance to flee from a kiss, made sure their lips and tongue met until his needs were fulfilled.

"Such rosy lips," he said smiling after that kiss and brushed their noses together.

"I have a gift for your mother, too, to thank for the hospitality. It's just a small portion of spices and herbs but hopefully they'll be useful. They are still in my saddle bag actually. I didn't remember them last night."

((ooc: When I was considering Anne's gift, I came across this site that had ostrich feather hat pins. One of them is called 'Anne' but I'm not sure if it means your Anne.
http://sapphireandsage.com/featherhatpins.html))

The nip of his teeth at her fingers sent shivers rolling through her. Shivers that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. At his sigh her fingers teased along his lower lip before sliding down to his jaw. His words made her chuckle, low and a bit triumphant. Her face tilted at the direction of his hands. Turnabout is fair play indeed - for his fingers caressing her sensitive neck made her head tip back and a soft sigh purr forth from her lips.

His kisses are divine. So hot and sweet. As his lips pressed to hers, Anne parted her lips to let her tongue slip free to meet his. When he pulled away and nuzzled his nose against hers she couldn't help but giggle a bit.

"And such a sweet tongue," she teased.

So thoughtful and considerate was it any wonder why she loved him? Anne couldn't help but smile and nod slowly when when he spoke of the gift for her mother.

"I'm certain she'll love them," Anne replied. "If nothing else, she'll appreciate the thought put into the gift. All the same, I would retrieve them while you're here, lest they go missing or the cold affect them."

((ooc: Oooh, they're all so pretty!!))

Edited (damn tenses...) 2014-10-19 22:52 (UTC)

"You think so?" he asked and almost made a rude gesture with his tongue but managed to hold back his urges in time. A somewhat devious grin still expressed the thought that had formed in his mind. Wyatt slid his hands down along her upper arms, over the fur cape. "There might be more of the same later, if the lady is agreeable."

However, discussing his gift to Anne's mother was a sure way to redirect the conversation to safer waters.

"Aye, we should be heading back anyway, lest your family starts to question our whereabouts. The saddles must be in the usual place?" He had visited Hever enough of times to know the stables inside and out, but it didn't hurt to ask. He had not paid much attention to what had happened to his belongings the previous night.

Wyatt leaned backwards from their secret nook and since the road was clear he gestured Anne to follow. He didn't think they couldn't be seen together at all. Being long-time family friends and all, it ought to be alright to walk back to the castle with her.

"Hmm we shall have to see then, won't we?" Anne hummed contentedly as his hands ran up and down along her arms. It was a simple gesture but one that always brought her a great deal of pleasure. Something about it soothed her, made her feel secure.

But he was right, and she nodded in agreement. Mary in particular would likely come snooping about soon enough if she didn't head back. Anne glanced over her shoulder, though there was a wall separating her from the main aisle.

"Yes, around the corner of this nook in the little holding room - the usual place," she nodded to affirm his thought.

When he gestured for her to come Anne was quick to follow, tucking her pin into a small pocket inside her cloak to keep it hidden until she was able to stash it in her bedroom inside the castle. She walked with him through the stable at a respectable distance for two friends to have between them.

"So you will indeed be staying the night with us again?" She asked, just to be absolutely sure. With all the apples she'd brought to the stable gone, Anne began pulling on her gloves again.

A quick glance at Anne's direction confirmed they were back to pretending to be nothing but neighbors. He could do that. He could take it like a courtly game.

"Yes, Miss Anne. I believe you heard your father very kindly offering that opportunity last night. He might have been thinking more of my horse than me," he laughed, "but that does seem to run in the family. Flyer will not forget the pretty lady with apples."

Wyatt found his saddlebag among all the others and flung it over his shoulder. "I better take the whole thing inside. I bought enough spices to give to my mother as well, though I dare say that if the weather did them harm, the damage is already done." While not being an expert on dried herbs, he was fairly sure they were still fine, not having gotten wet at any stage.

"Did you and Mary have your snowball fight?" he asked as they exited the stables and walked the short distance towards the castle.

Just for now - she had endured what had felt like eternity without his presence, but now they were together again. It was a facade, and they both knew it, that they were simply neighbors and nothing more - let the others think it. The less they suspected, the more exciting it was; at least in Anne's mind.

"What a shameless flatterer you are, Sir Thomas!" Anne exclaimed with an almost haughty laugh. "I can spoil my horse with apples any day - it's not often the stable is graced with Flyer's presence."

While Wyatt goes for his saddlebag, Anne goes back to Flyer, stroking the horse's velvet nose again and laughing softly at his warm breath on her hand, even through her glove. "My Hirondelle is spoiled enough, and so is my Gringolet."

Hirondelle, Anne's swift and crafty mare, stomped her hoof against the door to her stable, as if protesting Anne's statement. Gringolet, the large and hardy gelding, just munched his straw and paid his mistress no mind. But Flyer seemed plenty happy to have the woman pay attention to him.

Anne turned though when Wyatt spoke again. For a moment she pursed her lips in thought and offered the suggestion: "Perhaps you might inquire of the kitchen staff? Surely if there was indeed any damage done at all, they can instruct you on how to correct it."

Anne herself was certainly no kitchen master and knew nothing about herbs. But she figured the kitchen staff would know something at least.

"No - Mary decided against it. Likely she didn't want to have me as her opponent, as you well know I can indeed be a crafty and clever strategist in my own right," Anne smirked as she boasted.

"And I believe your father has spoiled you, in the form of two excellent horses." He paused to watch Anne pet them, and came close to regretting those words. Horses or other gifts, even his own, did not make up for some of the other things she had to put up from her father, now mainly this business of pushing her in the King's way. But Wyatt didn't want to focus on that while they could enjoy themselves now.

"I could," he replied with shrug, not that worried about the herbs. "I rather just give them to your mother right away and not have your cook open every pouch first. Your kitchen staff is capable enough. If they must discard half, your mother need never to know."

He laughed at her flaunting. "Clever? I do not remember such a thing at all." Wyatt threw the bag over a fence they were passing by and leaned down to scrape a bit of the wet snow from the grass. It made a pitiful little ball but then he wasn't exactly going to hit her with snowball the size of his fist.

Jumping in front of Anne, Wyatt aimed the ball at her, though not releasing it until he knew if she was on board with this silliness.

Anne managed a weak smile at his remark. Her father had purchased the mare Hirondelle for Anne thinking it proper for a lady to have a female horse. Gringolet had come from the same breeder, though he was an entirely different breed, a Friesian. When Thomas Boleyn had taken Anne to see Hirondelle, it had actually been a rather amusing event.

"Father had purchased Hirondelle for me, but to his chagrin when he took me to see her for the first time, I fell in love with Gringolet and his powerful stride. I fear it was my begging and not my father's generous nature that bid him to purchase the second horse for me," Anne shrugged her shoulders a little.

She followed beside him and looked legitimately offended at his words. As he bent down to collect the snow in his hand, Anne knew immediately what he was doing and sought to retaliate. Her own fingers scooped up some snow from the ground and as Wyatt stood up and jumped in front of her, Anne hurled her snowball at him, aiming for his shoulder.

Anne had been a little bit faster than he'd expected; her snowball brushed against Wyatt's arm and crumbled apart. "Ha!" he yelled and sent his own ball into flying. The target was much easier: her wide skirts.

"Fine, I'll take it back. You're clever in getting your father to buy you two horses instead of one," he laughed even as he ducked down to make another snow ball. Circling her, Wyatt flung it in her direction without much aiming. Still, he was careful not to throw anything too close to Anne's face.

He then stood up straight and spread out his hands to show he was harmless, yet cautious of her possible actions. Something stopped in his heart as he looked at her right then. If only... she was his to keep.

Of course she was an easier target, he was quicker in the snow-covered terrain while Anne had her thick skirts to contend with. Wyatt's snowball hit the mark but Anne was not to be upstaged. Her fingers moved quickly to scoop up more snow to make a better-packed snowball. She saw him pitch the second snowball and somehow managed to avoid it.

Anne turned, aiming for his chest and flinging her better-crafted second snowball at him. As she stood up straight again, Anne's smile turned from crafty to soft. With his hands spread out as they were with Thomas dressed so fine as always, the snow picturesque around them, he was so handsome.

Anne was so incredibly jealous of his wife, snatching him out of the eligibility pool so early, making it impossible for them to be together realistically. There was the quickest flicker of disappointment at her lips, but she was smiling still. If only she hadn't been gone in France for so long. Maybe, a portion of her mind unhelpfully asserts, she could have been his wife.

Rubbing her shoulders a bit, Anne glanced off. "A bit chilly out here..."

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