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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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..."

The sudden change in her touched him so. As much as Wyatt hated seeing her sad, in some strange way her sadness seemed to testify of her fondness for him more than any smile.

"I apologize. So thoughtless of me to keep you outside like this." He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides, shaking the remnants of Anne's snowball off his cape. Stopping in front of her, he then swiftly brushed the hem of her skirt clean as well.

"There." Wyatt wrapped his hands around her for a brief moment. They were not yet close enough to the castle for anyone to see them from the windows but they were still out in the open. Servants might notice them.

"My Brunet...," he breathed into her hair before stepping back and smiling encouragingly. "Let us go inside and demand to be served a hot drink, shall we?" After fetching his saddlebag from the fence, Wyatt led them over the frozen moat and back into the warmth of the castle.

"Where do you suppose I could find your mother at this time?"

((ooc: Edit done. If you want to make a time jump to evening at any point, please do. I don't have to, for instance, write out the scene between Wyatt and her mother, though I can.))

Edited 2014-10-23 21:48 (UTC)

Anne let him get close, was quiet as he dusted off the snow he'd flung at her only moments ago. Then his hands are around her and a warmth floods through her entire body that gives her comfort. She didn't care if a servant noticed them. Let it happen. Let them see. For this brief moment she wanted to at least ponder the possibility of the two of them being able to do this freely. His whisper of her code name sends a tremor running through her. It's only then that she looks up at him and smiles.

"You needn't apologize, my dear Poet," she chuckles a bit. "I enjoy the cold now and again. Even better with company such as yours. But yes, a hot drink does indeed sound nice."

She walked with him, snow already starting to fall again. They walk over the moat and inside the castle where she surrendered her fur cloak and gloves to a servant. Apparently Mary, George and some other guests were drinking warm mulled wine in the library. Anne pondered a moment, thinking about where Elizabeth Boleyn would be at this time of day.

"With the weather, and so many guests in the library, mother is likely in father's study," Anne glanced to the servant. "Will you escort Master Wyatt to the lady of the house and announce him to her?"

Anne gave a soft smile and curtseyed for Thomas. Her dark gaze came up again to catch his. "If you don't mind, Sir Thomas, I shall leave you to it. I believe I shall join my siblings in the library for something warm to drink, the walk has indeed made me cold. But of course you're welcome to join once your business with mother is concluded!"

She gave him a fleeting smile before she turned and left for the library. With the weather getting worse again as the day went on, the remaining guests and the Boleyns stayed inside and the festivities began again. There was music, dancing and carrying on. Anne and Mary had taken to changing into nicer gowns as day turned to night; Mary clad in a fine light blue gown, and Anne in red. George took it upon himself to get the minstrels to play the fastest tunes to keep the guests entertained. Food was served throughout the day in vast quantities, along with the wine. William asked Mary to dance, to which she only agreed to after Anne insisted that she go. Mary didn't want to leave Anne alone with all the festivities going on around them.

But Anne was content to drink the wine and just enjoy the energy that flowed throughout the house. Though of course, her gaze was searching for the proper partner with whom to share a dance. At one point though, as George sauntered out with some lady in a yellow dress to dance, he swatted Anne's shoulder, making her yelp and nearly making her spill her wine.

"C'mon Annie!" He called to her with a grin. Anne simply rolled her eyes and tipped her cup to George before taking a long drink of its contents.

Anne's mother had graciously accepted his small gift and assured that the spices would be put to good use by Hever's skillful cook. Out of politeness Wyatt spent a moment conversing with the lady and in doing so, got a bit of an lesson on herbs in general. Rosemary, she had said, was known for improving memory and mint was not only a good seasoning for meat but also had medicinal value in fighting colds and stomach aches.

Wyatt, in turn, could explain that the lavender he'd brought had been grown in Provence and peasants there produced wonderful lavender oil that helped heal wounds. He apologized for not having been able to buy such oil but expressed a wish that the dried herbs would still somehow work their wonders when used in cooking.

As Wyatt had thus revealed the true destiny of his travels, Thomas Boleyn was all too curious to ask him to elaborate on the matter. Wyatt didn't feel like he had the right to go into details so he gave only a roundabout answers which thankfully seemed to satisfy the lord.

Then finally he was able to join the other guests in the library and got served the long-awaited hot drink. The Boleyns knew how to entertain, that much was clear. They spared neither effort nor expense when putting together festivities and this New Year's day was no exception. After his lonely days on the road, Wyatt delighted in the company of others. Even trivial news and conversation was very welcome to him and he joined in with all the joking and merrymaking.

A fair share of his good mood was obviously due to being able to see Anne. All too often his gaze sought her out in the room; secret looks and brief smiles that spoke volumes of his feelings. She was his spark of fire, dressed in a red gown.

Wyatt approached her when the music and dancing really started to pick up and even shy William found the courage to ask Mary. He bowed down, as it was the proper thing to do, and held out his hand to her.

"I believe there was talk last night of us dancing together. I like this tune, so... may I have this dance, Annie?"

Anne smiled happily when Thomas stepped up to her. She hid that smile behind her wine cup as he bowed and offered his hand. Then she relinquished her cup to a servant and clutched her skirts in both hands to curtsy before slipping her hand into Thomas's.

"You may - so long as you promise to never call me 'Annie' again," Anne still smiled though.

George called her 'Annie' because he knew she hated it. And of course only Mary could call her 'Nan'. But Anne laughed a bit as she leaned a little nearer to Thomas. "Besides, you already have a proper nickname for me, haven't you?"

It was a merry tune, but a slightly slow one - there would be no changing partners for this particular dance. Anne stepped onto the dance floor with Thomas, her fingers laced with his. George and Mary seemed amused enough with their own partners to pay Anne and Thomas any mind. Anne's dark eyes fell upon Thomas, unable to fight the smile that blossomed across her lips.

"You realize, my dear Thomas, you have made decent headway on our little wager, but you've yet to secure a win," she teased him, keeping her voice low but still only speaking in general terms that no one would be scandalized over.

"I promise, if that name displeases you so. I was not aware," he replied solemnly. He didn't remember ever having heard of it before. In hindsight, it had come from George's mouth, so there could be some childhood issues behind it.

He nodded at her mention of a nickname. "That I do. It was... now if I could only recall... the Wittiest?" Wyatt flashed a smile an instant before he had to let go of Anne's hand and make a turn to the right and step around her.

Her challenge earned a pair of raised eyebrows from Wyatt but having to concentrate on the dancesteps prevented him from giving an immediate response. He couldn't really believe she'd refuse him at the end but in no way could he simply sit back and wait until the apple fell down onto his lap, either.

"There is more to man's life than winning a bet," he offered, when again facing her, "but whenever that is the goal, I've found that by taking things slowly, a better outcome can be reached."

They had to again step in opposite directions before returning to one another. "Think of waterdrops falling on marble. One drop does nothing, but in time a multitude of them will erode the stone. A lady's heart may be soft but it is often much harder to penetrate than a marble."

He squeezed her hand and whispered. "I will take my own time seducing you, mistress Boleyn."

Anne gave a soft laugh at his new nickname for her. Oh, she could indeed get used to a name like that. Anne just smiled her response to him, turning when she needed to perform the dance.

Besides, a simple dance was the farthest thing from her mind. Especially when he spoke so eloquently and with such finesse. As he whispered to her, Anne blushed slightly. Oh, she wouldn't likely refuse him, she just liked to tease him - but if he kept speaking like that...oh, Anne was already aching with need for him. For so long, for so many weeks beforehand, they had not been together.

She was about ready to combust, do great was her need.

Teasing and bring clever was her way of combating this, but her defense was wearing thin. As Anne gave his hand a brief squeeze before pulling away to complete another turn around him, she glanced at him over her shoulder with a dark gleam in her eyes.

"Ever the artist, I would never seek to interfere with your work," she purred. "Shall you make me your next masterpiece?"

Anne smiled mischievously as she completed the turn and the music faded and the ladies curtseyed to their partners before a new melody began.

"How can I make a masterpiece out of something that already surpasses perfection?" he asked, genuine wonder in his hushed voice. Music was fading but thankfully his words were subdued by all the cheering and clapping of hands so that only Anne could hear him.

The dancers assembled into a new formation for another piece. This dance required them to switch partners and therefore it was harder to maintain any kind of real conversation but Wyatt was just as happy to simply smile at her, to hold her hand when possible or speak words less important than he would have otherwise done.

He did, however, manage to whisper something to Mary as they were going in circles hand in hand, and then a little bit later Mary was repeating his words to George, who glanced at Wyatt's direction and nodded. When this dance was completed, George raised his voice before the musicians had a chance to start another song.

"Friends, and family! May I have your attention, please?" he started with his hands up in the air. "As we all know, our little party got a welcome addition last night with the arrival of one... frosty poet." The crowd turned to look at Wyatt and murmured their approval. "I hear they have a new poem for us to enjoy today. I suggest we take a small break from dancing and let Master Wyatt recite his newest piece of work."

George gestured Wyatt to step forward which he then did, smiling at the crowd. "Thank you, George. This poem came about as I travelled south and visited the port of Seaford. I began thinking of sailors in the Mediterranean and of their encounters with Venus, rising from the sea. English winters are cold and I doubt the goddess graces us with her presence in these waters but I would like to believe we have beauty here that equals her nonetheless."

His cheeks might have blushed saying that; after all it was rather sentimental. Wyatt then paused to let the audience to get ready.

"Though this port : and I thy servaunt true,
And thou thy self doist cast thy bemes from hye
From thy chieff howse, promising to renew
Both Joye and eke delite, behold yet how that I,
Bannisshed from my blisse, carefully do crye,
"Helpe now, Citherea, my lady dere,
"My ferefull trust," en vogant la galere.

Alas the dowbt that dredfull absence geveth
Withoute thyn ayde ; assuraunce is there none :
..."

He continued through all the four verses of the poem, sometimes taking a longer pause between words when he couldn't quite decide how he wanted the lines to flow, and sometimes giving special emphasis on certain words and phrases. All for Anne.

...Forget me not, en vogant la galere."

That was the end of the poem. Wyatt had been looking past the guests as he spoke, but now his gaze fell up the people that so quietly had been listening. He smile again, anxiously waiting to know how well the poem was received.

((OOC: Full poem with modern spelling & notes/explanation here:
http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/Archive/Wyatt16.htm#anchor001 ))

Anne blushed and gave him a teasing smile as he praised her so highly. Really, how could he think so highly of her? She was certainly no Venus, yet he always spoke such sweetness to her. And though she didn't necessarily agree with him, she never tired hearing it. Mary received such declarations from her suitors in vast quantities. But Anne much preferred the quality of Thomas's words to any other.

When the music started anew and the next dance began, Anne found her partner switched to the timid William. To avoid drawing attention to herself, she didn't seek where Thomas had gone with her eyes again, she merely exchanged pleasantries with William, teased him about her sister and made him blush.

But then George's hollering startled them both. As he made the announcement and described Thomas as being 'frosty' Anne couldn't help but laugh a little. She and William stepped back out of formation as George commanded to give Thomas proper space, though Anne made it a point to stand up front beside Mary to hear him best. Again she blushed as he spoke of beauty here that at least equaled Venus - was he...referring to her? No, he must have been referring to their fair country, for she knew he loved it so. Yes, that must have been it.

Silently Anne listened, entranced. His written words were captivating enough, but when Thomas actually took the opportunity to read his compositions aloud, it was positively bewitching. There was no room for doubt - this was for her. Anne couldn't help the self-centered thought; but for whom else could this possibly be dedicated? She bit the side of her tongue to keep tears from her eyes.

En vogant la galere.

Mary, always enamored with such art, was the first to applaud. The smile spread across Anne's lips before she too was clapping. Others around them absolutely erupted into applause that seemed to echo throughout the entire house. Despite everyone in the room, Anne's eyes were fixed on Thomas. For her, there was no one else in the room.

"Wonderful!!" Mary called out to him joyously, nudging Anne playfully.
"As always," Anne's voice was softer but she was just that overcome with emotion that she could not will her voice any louder. But the smile on her face conveyed her approval and admiration clear enough.

A big smile spread across his face, so grateful was he to receive such cheer, although it made him slightly embarrassed as well. His eyes went to Mary as she was so near and clapping her hands so vigorously, but it was Anne's more subtle applause that made him drop his gaze to his feet. He clasped his hands together and made a bow before thanking everyone and stepping aside.

"Music!" George ordered while bringing Wyatt a cup of wine. "Here, you deserve a drink, my friend. That was excellent. It begs one crucial question, however." He took a sip from his own cup and grinned. "Who is this woman that inspires such poetry in you? Do not tell it is someone you briefly met in Seaford."

Wyatt shook his head, hoping that Anne wouldn't hear George's half-witted insinuation but in vain. The two Boleyn sisters were still standing nearby. Though it turned out to be for the best as Mary stepped up right then.

"Don't spoil the memory of a lovely poem, George," Mary chastised her brother. "We enjoyed it thoroughly, didn't we, Nan? Shall we dance some more? This music is perfect for circle dancing."

((ooc: Gah, all those typos in my last paragraph/previous tag: fell upon, he smiled again))

Anne smiled as Wyatt so humbly bowed and accepted the praise. He didn't let it go to his head like others might. But of course, being so close, she heard George's question and rolled her eyes. Thank heavens for Mary speaking up first, as Anne felt free to add to her sister's comment.

"Of course we did, it was wonderful! Pay no mind to our brother, Master Wyatt. Your poem was lovely, as always!" Anne smiled, waving George off. But her attention was back on Mary to answer her question. "I think for now Mary I'll partake of the pastries and fine wine, but you go on!"

Mary pouted but soon another male guest whisked her off to join the dancing. Anne took a goblet of wine from a passing servant and drank slowly. The music and frivolity were indeed wonderful, but as the hour was drawing late, more guests were beginning to retire to their rooms for the evening. The room was slowly but surely emptying. But this didn't bother Anne. The more guests left, the closer it would be to bedtime.

Then she could sneak back to Thomas's room once again. This time, she wouldn't be able to just sleep beside him.

But she tried not to think too much on her plans just yet. It would only make her more anxious. So Anne just enjoyed her wine and plucked up a small pastry when a servant came near.

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