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 slept fitfully, though there was some comfort in Thomas's suggestion. Thinking it was a good enough idea on its own, Anne inquired after forming a play to the other ladies, namely Jane Parker. Anne made sure to ask loud enough for the Duchess of Suffolk to hear - as she would likely take the idea herself. That way, if it was a total failure, Anne would not be completely to blame.

She then went about her business, performing tasks around the castle before she was able to retrieve Thomas's letter. It brought a smile to her face and a light swelling in her heart to read it. For Cromwell to not refuse to support him in his divorce outright was a good sign. But it was the words at the bottom of the page that brought her the most happiness.

He wanted to see her. And she desperately wanted to see him. He was expecting her Saturday or Sunday after Mass - naturally she would try to be there as soon as she was able.

Taking his words to heart, Anne made the suggestion more fervently for the ladies to put on a play for the holidays in the name of the Queen. This was more whole-heartedly supported when Margaret, The King's sister, expressed interest in the idea. So when the King sent for Anne, she was able to politely refuse, for she had a play to help plan. It was still early before the holiday, but as it was for the Queen, it would have to be perfect.

The King didn't seem terribly angry, though Anne kept herself in his good graces by meeting him for a brief lunch to discuss holiday plans, in which Henry revealed exactly what Thomas had said, that he was to be part of some of the festivities planned for the Christmas season. Anne smiled, pretended to be pleased, impressed.

It was only a day or two before Saturday finally came. Anne went about her business again, having a little more free time than usual. She spent much of her time in the falconry, avoiding Henry's messenger should he come prowling.

Until finally the time for Mass came, which was torment to wait through. But she spent the time praying for a divorce for Thomas, and escape from the King - even for him to be reunited with his wife, somehow.

When Mass dismissed, Anne slipped away from the other ladies, unnoticed, thank the Lord. She waited for everyone to leave, and still waited a few minutes more before she made her way to the cathedral bell tower. Anne's heart pounded in her chest, anxious to see him, desperate for his touch, no matter how fleeting.

Everyone was always looking forward to December because at Henry's court, the celebrations were stretched out to last the whole month. Smaller actvities over the first weeks gave way to bigger ones as days went by. With each year the entertainment grew more lavish and those involved were eagerly planning for events that surpassed the ones done the previous year. The Advent season was about to start this weekend, the fourth Sunday before Christmas.

Wyatt made sure his friends were all taking part and that both Tallis and Mark Smeaton were willing to come to the ladies' aid should they need more musicians for their plays. As for what he wanted to do himself wasn't fully formed in his mind yet. A new poem was always expected but he was so consumed by his desire to be with Anne that anything he tried to write seemed to scream her name. He simply couldn't present anything that obvious.

There were no new messages from Anne but since his own note had disappeared from the urn, Wyatt felt secure enough that she would do her best to meet him on Sunday the latest, if not on Saturday.

He had spend the morning pouring over boring bookkeeping documents that his father, being the Treasurer of the Chamber, wanted him to get acquainted with. Minding the time Wyatt then made some poorly-formed excuse of why he had to leave suddenly to do something else, something of equal importance, he claimed. More than equal in his opinion.

Winter was approaching surely and steadily. The air was cool even in mid-day though the morning frost was gone. He liked this weather. He felt alive and hopeful.

He arrived well in advance and while waiting, kept himself occupied by imagining hundred different ways of kissing Anne as soon as he'd had her in his arms again.

"Patience, though I have not
The thing that I require:
I must of force, god wot,
Forbear my most desire."

He recited that verse a few times, aloud but quietly as he drew circles on the bell tower's stony frame.

Anne hurried to approach the tower. Even before she saw him, she heard him. Was she hearing only what her ears so desperately wanted to hear? Or was it...No! That was indeed his voice, the voice of Thomas Wyatt. Anne started to quicken her pace, but instead paused, a broad smile breaking across her face. Slowly she rounded the tower, tipping her head as she finally caught some visage of him.

"Gone so mad from not seeing me in so long that you've taken to talking to yourself, have you Sir Thomas?" Anne grinned as she teased him.

But she didn't stay apart from him for much longer than that. In a flash she was before him, arms thrown around his neck as she leaned up to kiss him hard and deep. To Anne's mind, she had weeks to make up for. She didn't care if someone were lurking about - though she'd seen no one. Let someone see.

Though after a moment she realized that this might cause more trouble for him than necessary, so Anne leaned back a little, face flushed from embarrassment as well as the cold air.

"Forgive me, I...I just missed you so..." Anne whispered.

"So mad-," he managed to say, eyes revealing first a surprise, then all the joy of seeing her.

And... hmm, that was one of the ways to kiss her. He was all too ready to offer his mouth to her. And lean back a little was probably all Anne could do afterwards, considering Wyatt had his hands tightly around her the moment she flew herself against him.

He had missed her, too, but there was no time to say it. Tipping his head down, Wyatt captured her lips with his again. She tasted like crisp autumn days and sacred prayers.

"Patience, I had not." His hand came up to hold her head, to press is gently to his shoulder. "You feel so good." He closed his eyes and rocked their bodies together, his long cape surrounding them both. The tension he'd felt all morning was fading away.

"I am glad you were able to make it here. How are you holding on?"

Anne was only too eager to return that second kiss. Her body leaned into his, craving his heat against the chill of the air and the loneliness that had plagued her. She moved with his direction, her cheek against his shoulder and the velvet softness of his tunic. Both her hands came down to rest against his chest.

"The Devil himself could not have detained me," she replied softly, nuzzling more against him, letting the heat melt between them. "I'm holding on as well as I can, and you, love?"

Anne tilted her head a bit, her lips moving to brush against his neck, craving the contact with his skin they had been so denied.

"I took your advice - the ladies are preparing a play for Her Majesty, and the King seemed satisfied with that when I gave it as a reason that I could not see him," Anne told him. "He seemed busy enough anyway, preparing for all the festivities."

But she didn't want to talk much more of the King now. It was bad enough she had to spend endless hours with her father and brother discussing matters of the King. She was only given little time with Thomas, surely there were better topics of discussion.

"God, help me, but I have missed you so sorely..." Anne sighed, nuzzling against the crook of his neck.

"I am better now." Infinitely better for seeing her, hearing her voice, feeling her warm breath on his skin. Wyatt's hands stroked her protectively. If only he could keep her out of harm's way.

"Good. A play should keep your mind occupied. I can't wait to see how it turns out." He kissed Anne's forehead. "I think my sister Margaret might like to join your play. Would you ask her?" She was a few years younger than Anne and spent time at court on and off. Wyatt was almost certain his sister would accept Anne as her friend if she so wanted.

A couple of young choir boys came running around the corner, laughing, chasing each other. They might have been momentarily startled to come across a cuddling couple but being of age when such a sight could only evoke a wrinkled nose and a gagging reflex, they had no interest in looking closely enough to recognize Wyatt, let alone Anne whose face was hidden against his neck.

Chuckling, Wyatt took Anne's hand and lead them to a slightly more secluded corner. He held her face between his hands as if to memorize her features.

"My father is keeping me busy. I shouldn't tell you but I'm to deliver a sum of money to-," he stopped in time. "Well, it's best you don't know the details. In any case, if you don't see me around or find any letters, you'll know I'm running errands on father's behalf."

Anne gave a soft, content sound as she felt his hands stroking her body. She couldn't help but think on the feeling of his fingers over her bare skin - it was a feeling she missed dearly. But this feeling was just as good, just as secure.

"Of course, Thomas," Anne nodded and smiled softly. She had no quarrel with Margaret, she seemed a sweet enough girl. Anne could use more friends than the nervous and nibbly Jane Parker anyway. "I shall invite her to join when next I see her."

Anne paused a moment, quietly contemplating. "Do you suppose...do you suppose she might help us?" Her hesitation did not convey much hope in the suggestion - but then again, her own siblings had proven themselves to be perfectly useless in that regard. But not everyone was a Boleyn, thank God. A part of Anne's mind, unhelpfully, suggested that perhaps Margaret might find some kindness in her, some way to help them.

But it wasn't something she put all her hope behind.

Anne could barely see the choir boys as they played, but anyone's voice would have made her tense as she did then. She kept her face buried against his neck, waiting until Wyatt took her hand and led her away. As he took her face in his hands, Anne smiled, reveling in the warmth of his hands against her face. She couldn't help but close her eyes for a moment.

"So you're still a rising star then, my beloved Poet, to be given such responsibility," Anne chuckled. "I suppose I shall have to keep busier than I already intended, if you will be leaving me for a time."

She paused, tipping her head a bit to brush her lips against his palm, along the tips of his fingers.

Wyatt pursed his lips. Margaret had cordial relations with his wife but she had those with just about everyone. She had expressed sorrow over Wyatt leaving Elizabeth but there was no telling who's side she was taking in her heart. With luck, it would be her brother's side but if absolutely necessary, she would most likely submit to whaetever opinion their father had.

"I doubt it's a good idea to let her on in our secret but she is unassuming, usually believing the best of others. I don't think she'd be the first to disapprove our friendship."

Wyatt pressed their foreheads together and smiled at her words though he was sad as well. "I would much rather be the shooting star that granted all your wishes." He was grateful to be given more responsibility but it just felt like the absolute wrong time for that to happen. "I will miss my brave falcon when I'm away."

Thinking of his sister some more, he didn't fancy the idea of using her trusting personality but, "As long as we act respectfully, seeking Margaret's help is a possibility. She can't end up feeling betrayed or tricked into doing something that's against her conscience." Wyatt sighed. "I would loathe to ask her to testify against Elizabeth but I suppose we shouldn't leave any stones unturned. At the last resort."

That felt like enough of talking. Wyatt backed himself against the cathedral, pulling Anne to stand between his legs and lost himself in a passionate kiss.

Edited (changing a wrong word) 2014-09-23 15:40 (UTC)

Anne's mouth twitched in doubt. It had been a suggestion only, and one that she hadn't been particularly enthusiastic about. Far safer would they be if they continued as they were - though things were hardly ideal, at least they were safe. Relatively.

"It was only a suggestion - something to consider, I suppose," Anne shrugged.

Her fingers came up, brushing against his lips as he pressed his forehead to hers. A smile stretched across her face. "Would that you could, my first wish would be to always be in your embrace."

But yes, enough talk. They could talk anytime, even with others around - though with the latter their topics were admittedly limited. But they were still able. They had so little time to hold each other and kiss and touch.

Hence why she was so happy when he pulled her up to him. Only too eager did she take up that position between his legs, rolling her body into his, her hips flush against his own. Her lips parted to return that kiss, too passionate and tipping her head to deepen it still. Both hands came up to rest against his chest as Anne ran her tongue slowly along the ridge of his lower lip. Asking entrance, desperate to reunite with his and explore the wet heat of his mouth.

"Oh. I misunderstood your meaning. Never mind." He smiled. "It doesn't hurt to find allies. Or friends."

His hands fell down to her waist, finding the narrow strip of her skin between the bodice and skirt. It wasn't much but having gone these weeks without touching her, it was enough to get his blood rushing. Wyatt dug his fingers into her, a little rough but not hurting her. He was fairly certain she wouldn't mind it.

Obediently his tongue came out to meet hers, causing another rush of excitement that forced his eyes shut. He couldn't help his body shuddering for the longing to feel her properly. But his urge to tip her down on the ground had to be fought against. This wasn't the place. He sucked her upper lip and her bottom lip, hungry and beside his mind.

Trailing his hands up her sides, Wyatt encouraged Anne to wrap her hands around his neck. He bent down a little to ran his tongue along the side of her throat. Then he reached under her backside. Her heavy dress didn't make it particularly easy but if she held onto him, he could lift her up for a moment.

She would have replied, but far better was it to feel the attentions of his mouth against hers. It was a feeling she was reluctant to relinquish. The touch and grip of his fingers against her skin had a similar impact on Anne. She couldn't help moaning into the kiss, at the burning feeling that rushed through her entire body. God, she had missed this. His touch, his kiss - they were all she ever wanted of the world. It was all she could think on and what helped her endure when Henry did the same.

Her tongue anxiously slid into his mouth, around his own tongue when offered. His taste was always so sweet and musky and warm. It was easy to see why Anne was so addicted.

God, if only he could take her properly, as they both so longed. This was too long to endure without feeling him again, skin against skin in low candlelight. As his tongue ran down her neck Anne's breath hitched, a low moan escaping her. She tipped her head and offered more of her skin. At the same time, her hands slid up to wrap her arms around his neck. His grip at her rear made her chuckle low. She was only too ready to let him lift her after she was properly positioned.

"Thomas..." his name was a soft sigh on her lips, wanting more of his touch, as always.

She was the only one who could say his name like that: with softness and meaning and devotion. Wyatt opened his eyes to look at her with earnest. "Love you."

He loved her. Even if he had to see her with other people - with Henry even - it was better than not seeing her at all. While it didn't always feel that way, it was the truth.

Wyatt got a good hold of Anne and lifted her up so that her head was at a higher lever than his. Taking a few steps away from the wall of the church he spinned around, childlike and happy. Though then he had to bounce her up a smidge to be able to carry her better.

"Do you suppose you'll be able to spend some time at Hever before New Year's? Without your whole family around, that is. I should love to make a visit. Or... I could visit to make love." He grinned, almost (just almost) ashamed of his words.

"To kiss under the mistletoe, if it pleases the lady." He wouldn't mind a kiss here and now, either.

As he lifted her up and spun her about, a flurry of giggles erupted from Anne's mouth. Her eyes sparkled and her arms wrapped a bit tighter around him. She smiled, rubbing her nose against his as he held her aloft.

"I love you," she replied.

Anne paused, considering his question.

"I know that father is planning festivities at Hever. I could indeed be there for a time, if it meant that I could see you," Anne smiled at the possibility, though she did take the opportunity to gently sway his shoulder at the mention of visiting to make love. "Assuming I let you, Sir Thomas!"

So it was a dare.

Though at the mention of mistletoe, Anne couldn't help letting her fingers run through his hair.

"A kiss under the mistletoe, a kiss upon New Year's Eve - for it is indeed frightfully bad luck to start a new year without a kiss from one's love."

Wyatt let out a playful yelp but his expression sobered at the possibility of no love, no matter how much she'd said that in jest.

"I would never do a thing that wouldn't have your full approval, Mistress Boleyn. May I," he frowned, partly for show, as he searched for the right words, "express my heartfelt desire that your good lady would offer this poor servant... a warm spot beside the fireplace in her chamber? Winter nights can be so cold. And lonely."

It would be difficult to sneak into her chamber if there were guests aplenty at Hever, and even if he were successful in that, it would be near impossible to have quality time with her, but like so many things with Anne, it was better than nothing.

"As a close family friend, mayhaps I can stay longer than the ordinary guest?" He might have been pushing it ever so slightly.

He bounced her up again, and walked a few steps to be under the colorful stained-glass windows of the church.

"I feel we should practise kissing, so that we're not making fools of ourselves when the New Year is upon us. Don't you agree?"

Unless he put her back down, he was more or less at her mercy on this matter because he couldn't reach her mouth if she didn't tip her head down.

Again she brought her nose close to his, pressing their foreheads together.

"You may, Thomas - if you can seduce me. Though our time may be limited, I think a little challenge might be fun. But I'm sure convincing a lady to allow you into her bed, atop her on the floor or in her family's gardens, would hardly be a challenge for you," he'd already accomplished one such task, Anne figured he'd get the hint.

She brushed a light kiss against his lips, brief and fleeting as he spoke again.

"I see no reason why you couldn't stay longer than the other guests. Though I'm certain George would try to hog all the time with you to himself," Anne pouted a little at that notion. She would likely have to endure George's pressing of Thomas to reveal his phantom maid.

But the smile returned to her lips as he suggested practicing. She leaned in a bit, her lips just barely an inch from his.

"You do have a point. Can't be kissing sloppily at such events, now can we?" Anne whispered.

She closed the gap between their lips, kissing him softly at first, his lower lip gently wedged between both of hers.

He listened carefully as Anne talked about a challenge to win her over. Thinking of her on the floor, on her bed, imagining himself next to her and touching her all over, hearing her moans... Waves of heat gushed through him. Wyatt squeezed Anne's backside unconsciously.

"Ah... you leave me with little choice but to try to seduce you then, my dear. I see I must put my faith on words again. And should I fail-," he shook his head, "I refuse to fail. I cannot."

She was being cruel again, teasing him with almost-kisses. The pouting usually worked on her favour, however. "George is our cover, the reason I can visit. I will give him my time to gain a bit of yours."

A quiet whimper left his throat when she finally kissed him. Wyatt's hands released the grip of Anne, easing her down to stand on her own two feet again. Yet he held her close and kept their lips connected. The kiss turned from sweet to fiery and back again, his tongue echoing the changes.

"Mm-mh. We should make this a weekly thing," he whispered in her ear.

"I look forward to your efforts then, dearest love," Anne chuckled at his groping of her rear. "I have no doubt that you shall succeed."

As he set her down, Anne moved her body as best she could. Sliding down his form to stand before him. His kiss was all heat that called out to and stoked her own. Again her tongue eagerly partook of the taste of sugared almonds that she so loved.

"We should," she agreed, breathless as he whispered to her. Anne tipped her head down, brushing her lips against his neck, his ear. She flicked her tongue against the shell of his ear, and even let out a soft moan at the press of his body against hers. "This long without you has been far too long."

Edited 2014-09-26 22:49 (UTC)

"In that case," he resumed the grin, "I will make you beg for it."

His ears were far more sensitive than he cared to admit; anytime Anne's mouth went anywhere near them, Wyatt's mind shut down momentarily. His shoulders twitched and head dipped.

"Ah-h. You are making the wait very difficult for me." Bringing his gaze up, he nudged Anne's nose with his, willing her to look at him again.

"Should I let you to your duties now? And us, back to letters and quick glances over the room."

"We shall see," Anne gave a grin of her own.

On some level Anne knew about Wyatt's sensitive ears. It's probably what fueled the instinct to attend them so carefully as she did. A gentle lick and stroke of her tongue here, a slight nibble of her teeth there.

But then he's nudging her face from his ear, calling her attention back.

"The wait is always difficult on me, Thomas," she countered. But she was only too happy to press her forehead to his and look affectionately up to him.

But the meeting was nearly done.

"I suppose, if we must," Anne sighed. "And eagerly shall I await your visit to Hever."

Wyatt lowered her hands down from around his neck but didn't let go of her completely yet. His thumbs rubbed lightly over her fingers as he held her hands in his.

"I know. Be brave. I think of you every day. First thing when I wake up and the last thing before I fall asleep." It was true, for the most part. He chose to omit the times he drank too much and not remembered her before passing out. Not that those times couldn't have been included because pining for her was the reason for his inebriation. He wasn't particularly proud of doing that, but it was what it was.

"Hmh. Christmas seems so far away but I am sure it'll be all the sweeter to hold you then. But I wouldn't be sorry if I caught you for even the briefest of moments before that. A warm embrace from you would fuel many a day for me."

He pulled Anne into one more hug and kissed her softly one more time. Then he waited for her to go, feeling like he'd just been given the moon and the stars yet still going without them.

The next day, it being the Advent Sunday and hence an important day, Wyatt attended Mass with family members. He observed Anne throughout the ceremony, paying little heed to the priest and his sermon. He doubted she'd try to see him afterwards so he didn't stay behind.

Early on Monday he left on his mission towards Kent but not without dropping a note to Anne. It was a rather sappy letter, full of flowery descriptions of his feelings and longings, with the reminder that he'd be gone for several days. Since he was carrying a considerable sum of money, he couldn't really tell anyone of his route or even that he was going. However, a more valuable cargo for him was one of Anne's earlier letters that he brought along so he could read her loving words while journeying.

Seeing that his travels took him near Allington, Wyatt paid a visit to his mother and accompanied her to London for the rest of the holiday season. Upon arrival he noted that the planning for the Christmas festivities was well under way. Even Margaret had got a small role to play.

He made himself as easily approachable as possible, taking part in card games and lingering about whenever something interesting was happening. If there was a chance to see and talk to Anne, he would take it.

Anne smiled, letting herself get lost in such a simple touch as that of his thumbs running along her fingers. It wasn't a terribly complicated gesture, one the King had done to her many a time, but with Thomas there was more meaning in it.

"Worry not, dearest heart; for it is in a falcon's very nature to be brave," her eyes flickered to his lips, then back to his eyes again. "My thoughts often linger on you - as you said, first thing in the morning, and especially in the dark before I fall asleep." For had not some of their greatest exploits been completed in the shadows?

Christmas was indeed far off. But it would likely not occur to her just how long it would be - there was plenty to do before she could return to Hever, so Anne would have little idle time to sigh and lament over time not spent with Thomas.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or so they say," Anne smiled. "Not that I do not treasure the little time we do get to ourselves as it is now. But a lengthier absence like that may indeed make the heat between us burn hotter and stronger than it already burns."

She was on fire already, and they had been this far apart for a few weeks now. Add on another few weeks, and Anne was likely to pin him to the nearest hard surface she could find and tear his clothes right off - to hell with being ladylike!

"We shall go on as we have been, then: If we can steal a brief moment for even a most fleeting kiss, we shall. Otherwise," Anne leaned up as Thomas pulled her into his arms and kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him to embrace him. "I must bid you farewell for now, my love."

And so she did leave, slowly, reluctantly. If she could only have stayed bit longer, but then she would likely have never left his embrace.

Keeping her flawless act intact, Anne went about her duties as a lady-in-waiting to the Queen. She kept her promise to Thomas, and when next she saw Margaret, she invited her to join the play she and the ladies had planned for the Queen, and to her delight Margaret had eagerly accepted. Anne convinced Mark Smeaton - though admittedly it was hardly 'convincing', she'd asked him once and he'd accepted - to compose the music for the play. She wanted it to be light and frivolous, despite the fact that the Queen herself was anything but.

Anne had not expected a letter before Thomas left, but out of force of habit she checked the urn and found one. His words warmed her heart and brought tears to her eyes. Quickly she penned a response, detailing her own depth of feelings for him; her devotion, even in his absence; how the King could try all he liked to win her heart but it already belonged and would always belong to Thomas.

The ladies used all their spare time planning and practicing the play. Nothing but perfection would be acceptable for her majesty. As expected, the weeks had gone by quickly enough - it was Thursday, and Anne was planning to return to Hever on Monday. The production was scheduled for the next evening, to kick off the weekend events. There were feasts and other small plays planned.

With Thomas so near, Anne tried not to let her gaze linger on him too long to give them away. But it was so difficult. Overwhelmed with the joy of the season, Anne wanted only to share in that joy with Thomas. And only Thomas. As the games ended, Anne couldn't help but dare to approach Thomas - just for the briefest word.

"Sir Thomas, I hope to see you at the ladies' production for her majesty tomorrow night - Master Smeaton has composed a most jovial score for the play and your sister has indeed worked very hard at her role."

Wyatt would have laughed if he had known what Anne had in mind for him. He would have winked and told her that he much preferred soft surfaces to hard surfaces. He had enough experience of the latter ones.

For every now and then on his travels, if he wasn't able to stay overnight at any of his friends' homes, he found himself on a narrow and uncomfortable bunk in a monastery. Or worse yet, on a church bench, if no other option was available and the weather was too foul to stay outdoors. Though all things considered, he was grateful for any place that had a roof over it. Besides, fond memories of Anne often lulled him to sleep after a long journey. He wasn't prone to insomnia.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. He had to wonder about that. He certainly wished that for Henry, the absence from Anne's company wasn't working like that. Far better it would be if Henry directed his attentions to some other lady, barring Wyatt's own sister, of course. Out of sight, out of mind? Unfortunately, according to Anne, Thomas Boleyn was far too eager to make sure her daughter was in the King's vicinity as much as possible.

But now Wyatt himself was back at court. Wearing his black velvet and polished boots, he felt pretty winsome. A pleasant expression pasted on his face, he engaged in discussions with just about everyone, and whenever he noticed Anne looking at his direction, Wyatt smiled and placed his right hand over his heart.

Then she approached him on her own. Wyatt bowed down deep. "Mistress Anne. Thank you for asking, I wouldn't want to miss your play for the world. You can count on me being there, giving the loudest cheer."

He nodded toward Margaret who was shyly standing near a table with refreshments. "I wish to thank you on behalf of my sister, too. She tells me of your kindness. And Mark... He has been most secretive about the music. That must be a good sign."

It was a pain for him to keep up formalities when all he really wanted was to touch her.

"Is your family still planning to return to Hever for the end of the holiday season?"

So Mark was keeping the music secret - good, that meant that the play itself was still secret, as intended by the ladies. Anne couldn't help pausing a bit longer than intend, taking in the visage of Thomas in his court attire. More handsome than usual, if such could even be possible. Clearing her mind, Anne glanced up to look him in the eyes again.

"I am glad then, as I'm sure your sister shall be as well. You needn't thank me either, she's quite lovely and has proven to be a most dedicated actress in her part. She seeks to make you and your family proud, I'm sure," Anne smiled.

It was all true really; Margaret was polite and kind and worked very hard to memorize her movements and part in the production. Anne herself had not been cast in a large role, which had been fine with her, but it was important all the same.

"With any luck the production in its entirety will remain a secret until the curtains part," Anne laughed a bit.

It pained her just as much to maintain this polite facade. Really it took all her self control not to reach out for his hand, or lean in even the tiniest bit.

"Actually yes, we are. I'm scheduled to leave for Hever Monday morning. My brother George and my father will leave court later in the week - most likely Thursday. Their court duties require them to stay a bit longer than I. And you, Sir Thomas? Will you be returning to Allington?"

"Well, I thank all the same and I'm quite certain no one would dare to spoil the surprise at this point. There is only a day left."

Wyatt shook his head at the question of going home to Allington. "No, not this year. My mother expressed her wish to experience the season in full here. It has been a while. She prefers the country but she cannot spare to be away from Margaret for long." Margaret, on the other hand, needed to be at court because she was of age when that was expected. It would make finding her a suitable husband easier, as well.

"As for me, I shall go where the wind takes me. Should it blow from the north, I can be found in the south." Surprisingly, Hever was south of London.

He took a step closer. Heartbeat suddenly picking up speed, Wyatt rubbed his palms together; his hands felt hot, itching to reach out to her. So he did. Blame would be entirely on him should someone call it too forward, though he didn't think so. Flirting was encouraged here and the only person whose opinion mattered, namely the King's, wasn't even in the room.

Wyatt lifted the necklace that rested just above the low-cut neckline of Anne's dress. He held it up, his little finger touching lightly at her cleavage.

"Beautiful. Exquisite." He lowered his voice to add, "Like the person wearing it." Wyatt's hand brushed against the swell of her breast as he let go of the jewelry. His eyes met hers and held a gentle gaze.

((ooc: Yes I know Tarnish had a somewhat similar scene with Anne's necklace, but I actually got this idea from your userpic and tried to make it different. I refrained from saying whether she's wearing her B necklace or something else. Your call.))

((ooc: Yeah but there are a LOT of scenes in Tarnish that were lovely between them that I wouldn't mind playing out/tweaking so it's all good!))

Anne nodded in understanding. Many would share such a feeling, as there was nothing quite like Christmas in London. But things were different for the two of them - special.

"I'm certain she will find the season perfectly magical," Anne smiled. But her eyes glinted a bit at his mention of his own travels. "Very well - though I do hope you find someplace soft and warm to spend your holiday."

She paused, letting that little message sink in - would that they could spend Christmas in each others' arms, wrapped in velvet, skin against skin.

"Should you find yourself near Hever, I'm certain that you would be an honored guest in the Boleyn home," Anne pointed out.

But then he stepped closer. Anne's heart pounded in her chest, unable to hear the talking around them. It was as if everyone else in the room faded away. There was no one else, it was only the two of them. Her eyes glanced down to follow the motion of his fingers - to her delight he was indeed reaching out to touch her. The feeling of his fingers against her skin, against her breast, made a small tremble run through her. It took all her self control not to moan.

Her eyes shifted up again as he spoke, catching his gaze. A smile tilted her lips as she looked at him.

"Ever the shameless flatterer, Sir Thomas," Anne kept her voice soft, but lowered it even more for the second part: "I do hope that you'll continue using that silver tongue on me."

She took the sides of her gown in each hand and curtseyed for him. When she stood up straight again, Anne had the most mischievous smile on her face. "I do hope you'll excuse me, Sir Thomas, I had hoped to see to a few things before I retired for the evening."

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