[For Thomas] Changing Seasons

[happyfalcon]

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.

Comments

[howlikeyouthis]

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.

[happyfalcon]

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."

[howlikeyouthis]

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.

[happyfalcon]

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.

[howlikeyouthis]

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.

[happyfalcon]

"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."

[howlikeyouthis]

"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."

[happyfalcon]

"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."

[howlikeyouthis]

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.

[happyfalcon]

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."

[howlikeyouthis]

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?"

[happyfalcon]

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?"

[howlikeyouthis]

"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.))

[happyfalcon]

((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."

[howlikeyouthis]

He flashed a smile, in awe of how gracefully she accepted his move. "That's what I'm here for. For the flattery and worship of a lady."

He was sorry to hear she couldn't stay longer but it wasn't like they wouldn't see each other soon. Wyatt bowed again in return.

"What a shame. We shall miss your company, but... I'll bid you good night, miss Boleyn." Watching her go was becoming a habit. Wyatt nodded, still smiling-

until he turned around on his heels to see Henry Norris nearby studying him with a blank face. Nay, not blank for long. The corner of Norris' mouth twitched with amusement as he realized Wyatt wasn't able to hide the disappointment of having been caught.

It was doubtful that Norris actually understood what he had seen. Wyatt trusted that he could play it all down at a convenient time if asked about it. But as he moved through the crowd an uncertain thought entered his mind. Anne's smile before she left... Had she hoped he would follow her outside?

He had to find out. With a quick glance around the room to make sure no one, including Norris, was paying attention to him, Wyatt slipped away.

It was ridiculous. She could be anywhere. They didn't have a special place for their secret encounters. He randomly chose one direction: down the stairs and past other rooms until he came to one side of the courtyard.

It was ridiculous. He stopped. It was best to return to the others. To pretend he didn't miss her already.


((ooc: I wasn't really sure if you meant them to meet in private. If not, skip this by saying she's nowhere to be found. I have things planned for my next tag and you don't really have to give me anything to react to.
EDIT: I will move those things forward if you indeed wanted them to meet now.))

[happyfalcon]

((ooc: I would have LOVED to but I figured it was probably best to leave it at that for them for the evening - though I did provide an explanation why in my tag lol. I went through the play here but if you'd like anything changed if it doesn't go along with your plans let me know! The play can wait if we need it to!))

Anne would have loved to have met with Thomas just once more before slipping off to bed. But, as it was, Jane Parker found her in the hall, throwing a fit over the stitching of her dress for the production. Reluctantly, Anne went with her to help - scolding Jane for her continued nibbling of her own fingers, that she might do a better job of sewing if she would cease that bothersome habit. Adept enough at stitching, Anne managed to finish fixing the embroidery of Jane's dress, but only after some time had passed. It was too late to go back out now, and she figured Thomas was probably asleep.

Disappointed, but anxious for the production the next night, Anne retired to her own chambers, undressed and climbed into bed. She knew that she would need her rest, not that her part in the production was particularly big, but Thomas would be there, thus she needed to look as radiant as possible. Thoughts of his fleeting touch at her bosom, of his passionate kiss fueled her mind and kept her from falling asleep until quite a while after she'd gone to bed. When sleep did finally come, Anne dreamt of her role in the production, Henry's eyes fixed on her, her father's cruel sneer...and the warm embrace of Thomas Wyatt.

When she woke in the morning it was still early - so Anne quickly penned an apology for not seeing Thomas the night before, and after dressing for the day left the letter in the urn for him to hopefully find before the production began. She made it a point to scribble a small note, a hint at the production that read: Recall you the fires of Hever? They indeed burn hot, and only for you...

The ladies busied themselves readying for the production in the great hall. Mark Smeaton proved himself a perfectionist director, barking commands at them with vigor that no one had expected of him. But this was to be expected, it was mostly his craft, after all. Not only that, but it was for the Queen - perfection was demanded.

Finally the hour drew near - courtiers filled the hall to observe the production, which began when the masked Duchess of Suffolk stepped out, representing Venus in her finest regalia, and announced the entrance of the Harvest Spirit. Played by one of the Queen's favorite ladiies, the Harvest Spirit had no lines, but was the most integral of the players. Dressed all in white with a mask lined with silver, a pomegranate was stitched above her right breast - she represented the Queen. Then entered the Spirit of Valiance, a young man of goldish hair with a golden mask and fine leather armor stepped forward to claim the Harvest Spirit.

There were few lines spoken after that - Mark Smeaton led the small assembled orchestra in the finest score yet heard that season. Both Spirits danced marvelously in a series of turns that depicted how the Spirit of Valiance won her heart by displaying his strength, and yet his gentleness. A joke, to Anne really - Henry was anything but gentle.

Venus stepped forward as they ended the dance and called upon the elements to join her in blessing the union. Four ladies emerged: Margaret Wyatt clad in light blue, depicting air; Lucy Talbot in deep brown, depicting earth; Jane Parker in a darker blue, depicting water; and finally Anne Boleyn clad in red, for fire - per her hint. All four, like the other players, were masked of course - but if one was paying close enough attention, the identities of the blessed elements were clear as day.

With another rousing dance around the two Spirits, all assembled knelt low to honor them - except Venus, of course. The Duchess would bow to few, even in fiction. Thus, with a final flourish of the bow across Smeaton's violin strings, the play was completed.

[howlikeyouthis]

((ooc:I hope this is not awfully tedious to read.))


Anne might come to regret that she didn't stay longer or that she didn't return to the event afterwards. Wyatt certainly regretted for not inviting her to a quiet corner to hold her and to kiss good night.

By the time a note was left in the urn for him to find, he had been riding out of London for a good while already. Sun was up but it provided little warmth in the December morning. Neither was there warmth in his heart, only worry and disappointment. The days ahead of him looked glum.

On a normal day Wyatt would have enjoyed being on the road like this. He loved the English countryside, just like his mother. He loved the city, too, and the opportunities it provided but there was just something grand about the beauty of England represented in the raw: the fields and the forests, rivers winding through meadows, small unpretentious hamlets, honest people toiling the land for survival and prosperity.

But even a person like him could hate the road when he was missing home - or the loved ones left behind.

He had been woken up early by a young page boy. For a lanky youth that he was, he had been pounding on the door like a grown man. Wyatt stumbled out of his bed in the darkness, rubbing his face, trying to get his eyes open.

"His Majesty is requiring your presence, Master Wyatt. Immediately."
Wyatt had a mind to ask the boy what it was all about but he knew it to be in vain. A page boy would know nothing; he only acted as commanded. "You are to take with what you need for a day's journey," the boy continued.
"Then wait," Wyatt replied in a surly tone and closed the door. Good God he wanted to drop back on the bed but there was no way he could let the King wait.

Fully dressed and his cloak and hat in hand, Wyatt followed the page boy to the King's chambers. He found Henry eating his beakfast alone, at the end of the long table.

"Thomas!" Henry's greeting was cheerful, genuine. He waved his hand at servants that stood on each side of the table, ready to serve the King when needed. "Leave us." They bowed and exited the room.

"I know you must wonder why I have summoned you here so suddenly and at such time."
That was obvious.
"I am sure there is a good reason, Your Majesty," Wyatt tried to go for a smile.
"I have heard good things said about you recently. You have performed tasks at your father's behalf, have you not? You have acted as a courier. You have been fast and effective."

Henry placed his left hand over a simple leather satchel at the edge of the table. It was easy enough to guess there were some sort of documents inside. Important ones. Henry's attention moved from Wyatt back to his food.

"I need these papers delivered to Dieppe."
A silence fell into the room. Wyatt couldn't believe his ears. Henry kept skewing pieces of meat and cheese with a small decorative dagger and chewing each piece carefully. He didn't raise his gaze even when he continued.
"I've never known you to be lost for words, Thomas."
Wyatt cleared his throat. "Dieppe, Your Majesty?" The words came out thin. France. Hardly a matter of a day's journey.
"That's what I said. There's a man you're to meet and to give these papers to. His name is Fletcher."

Wyatt listened silently as Henry explained in detail where to find that man and what to do. He tried his best not to think about the play the ladies were going to perform that night. He had promised to be there, to give the loudest cheer to Anne. Not to mention Christmas was just around the corner. His whole family had gathered to London to celebrate it together.

"But..." He couldn't finish the question. The King wanted his service.
Henry looked up.
"But what, Wyatt? Christmas? It is not as if you were planning to spend it with your wedded wife, now was it? We both know you've been playing the role of a free man for the past year and I am simply granting you the right to continue to do so. As a free, unattached man you are very much expendable."

Wyatt could feel his entire body turn hot and not in a good way. That was a reprimand, delivered right after declaring his worthiness in doing his father's bidding. He couldn't see the logic, nor the motivation behind it. His separation from Elizabeth had not been an issue before, though he knew Henry to be against it.

Cromwell? Had that man told forward the conversation Wyatt had had with him? True, Wyatt had not sworn Cromwell a secrecy (and should he get his divorce, that would be common knowledge) but he had also not anticipated anything like this.

"I believe you're the right man for this job."
"Yes, your Majesty." What else was there to say?
"Your family will undertand. I will tell Sir Wyatt personally that you're on King's mission. He will be proud."
"Thank you."
"Your horse has been saddled. Good luck." With that, Henry dismissed Wyatt.

As he rode south, towards Arundel that would be one of his stops before reaching the port at Seaford, Wyatt's mind went through that discussion. But even more so, he kept thinking about Anne and her reaction for not seeing him in the audience. She wouldn't know what had happened. The most she'd be able to glean out was that he was "on King's mission".

With the return date unknown.

[happyfalcon]

((Like I said - let me know if this doesn't work in the grand scheme of things!))

There was obviously much celebrating and applause when the production was complete. The players were obviously pleased with smiles on their faces. Even Anne, though what she felt inside was so far below happiness. Thomas hadn't come. She forced the smile on her face, even through the unmasking. But when the other ladies began to partner with the men for dances, Anne went the other way entirely.

She didn't feel much like dancing.

But Anne's doldrums were knocked clear out of her when someone grabbed her arm and began giggling gleefully in her ear. As she turned in surprise to see who had come upon her, Anne smiled weakly. It was Mary, and thank God for her. Anne looped her arm with Mary's and they continued walking.

"You were wonderful, Nan!" Mary exclaimed. "You all were!"

"You're too kind, sister!" Anne continued faking her smile, playing her role.

But Mary saw right through it and immediately her expression turned solemn. Knowing full well Anne couldn't speak in the open, Mary pulled her into a corridor and into a small alcove where they could whisper without fear of being overheard.

"What's wrong Nan?"

"What? Nothing!" Anne shook her head, biting the side of her tongue as she felt her eyes turning glassy. Mary grasped Anne's wrist tight and looked up into her eyes.

"Anne. I mean it. Tell me now," Mary demanded.

Anne was defenseless. Being called Anne by her teasing, loving sister - that meant serious business. Anne pressed her lips together, fearing they'd betray her. She knew she would tell Mary everything. Right now, this very minute.

And it would ruin everything.

"...I can't," Anne shook her head slowly, looking away from Mary. But the elder Boleyn sister reached for Anne's cheek and turned it to face her.

"Anne you don't look well at all," Mary spoke softly. "You look ill...perhaps you should come back to Hever with me tomorrow - the country air will do you good."

Anne agreed, leaving the festivities with Mary to retire early. The very next morning she was packed and ready to leave. Anne sent a note with a page boy to the King, telling him that she was unwell and was returning the Hever earlier than scheduled. With a heavy heart and hand she penned of her affection for his majesty.

Christmas at Hever was usually a joyous affair. Anne and Mary came home before the Boleyn boys and helped direct the servants in preparation for the festivities. A few days later, their mother Elizabeth returned to Hever from visiting relatives in Arundel. She greeted her girls with jovial cries and hugs for them both. When asked of her travels and the condition of their relatives, Elizabeth told them both that she had by curious happenstance ran into Thomas Wyatt.

Anne tried not to let her emotions show, but her body did tense a bit. He'd been in Arundel? What on earth for? Some errand, no doubt - which was a far better explanation than just being blown off. But it still hurt. She didn't want to expose the feelings she'd had, nor open herself up to questions, so Anne didn't ask how they had come upon each other. Mary gave Anne a strange look before changing the subject and continuing with the festivities. Only a day later, George and Thomas Boleyn arrived, and the guests for the festivities came that evening.

In the few days that followed, Anne was given several stern lectures on how foolish she had been for leaving things with the King where they stood. She listened, she apologized, she didn't care. Anne was too sullen to let anything affect her. And more festivities were planned anyway.

Christmas came and went, sure enough - which was the larger of the parties - but there were festivities planned for New Year's Eve as well. Anne spent most of her days with Mary, or in the library. But every poem she read did nothing to lift her spirits.

New Year's Eve came; Anne had wanted to wear a deep grey gown but Mary wouldn't allow it - she begged Anne to wear red, as she looked so lovely in it, especially at the production, but eventually they compromised with a green gown. In order to get through the evening with George laughing and carrying on with as many women as could stand him, and Mary flirting with any man who paid her attention, Anne took it upon herself to assist in the draining of the wine kegs.

[howlikeyouthis]

Wyatt reached Arundel on the second day and was kindly greeted with various members of the Howard family. He had not known in advance but Anne's mother Elizabeth was among the hosts. This pleased him, as upon hearing that the countess was about to leave for Hever the next day, news of him would reach Anne's ears soon enough. Those news would be rather insignifant in content but, he hoped, would let Anne know nothing bad had happened to him.

He didn't discuss his travel plans in front of any of the ladies but instead confided in some of the menfolk. He had never boarded a ship at Seaford but it was a known fact that the town was inhibited by some of the worst individuals that the Earth carried on its surface. A very sound advice was to leave his horse on the west side of the River Ouse. There lived a respectable farmer who took care of travellers' horses for not too bad a fee. Anyone who was foolish enough to leave a horse at a stable in the town itself deserved to get his animal stolen.

So that was what Wyatt did. Leaving Arundel early, he arrived at the farm after sunset and enjoyed simple hospitality overnight sleeping in the barn. On the next day, weather was abysmal and he knew there would be no ships to sail to France. Still, he walked to town to find out about all the options and to secure himself a place on the first possible ship. There wasn't much else to do but to sit in a pub and listen to sailors' stories, and the occasional singer or a lute player. Seaford was not a town that he'd want Anne to spend any time in.

He did manage to board a ship the day after that and while the sea still showed its power, they weren't in any serious danger. Dieppe seemed to him like a regular town with a wall around it and a castle in half ruins. It was a small port town but a good deal more attractive than Seaford.

But he wasn't there to see the sights. Remembering Henry's orders Wyatt found his way to an Inn where he was to meet this man called Fletcher. Thankfully he didn't have to wait for long. Still, another day was drawing to its end and again he had nothing else to do but wait. But at least he didn't have to guard those valuable documents with him anymore. Now with more money in his pockets (for Fletcher had rewarded him), Wyatt took in the surroundings.

The return journey had its own difficulties, starting with the captain of the ship refusing to land at Seaford until he was bribed to do so. Wyatt suspected that was simply a clever way for him to empty the pockets of his passengers. But back in England he landed and was very glad of it. A cold front had settled over the country and the ground covered in a thin layer of snow. Wyatt wrapped his cloak tightly around himself as he headed back north. He would need one more overnight stay before Hever.

Had he not wanted so badly to see Anne to make up for his absence, he would have stayed put at that last place. A rough, cold wind blew from the north bringing some more snow, making traveling nearly impossible. The roads that even on a fine day were poor due to mud, were now slippery beyond belief. His beard (and the ends of his hair not tucked underneath the hat) got covered with a white frost. By the time sun began to set, he was cold from head to toes. Wyatt urged his horse forward, feeling very sorry for the animal but not wanting to give up. He was so close.

He would never be able to express in words how it felt to reach the Boleyn lands. Trembling from cold he entered the stables, found someone to help him unmount and took care of the horse, then escort him to the door.

A servant let him in. He heard voices and laughter. And George's astonished, "Wyatt? What the hell-?" But George was on top of things, and not trying to make a joke of the situation. "Good grief, come in. Let me get you in front of the fire." He took away Wyatt's cloak and hat and walked him to the library where other guests were gathered at the moment.

"Mulled wine for our guest of honor. Make haste!" George ordered a servant while seating Wyatt down. Everyone turned to look at them but Wyatt didn't even notice. He shivered too much. Thankfully the fires of Hever always burned so hot.

"Do you... suppose you can offer a warm bed for me, friend?" Wyatt asked in a weak voice as George pulled a chair for himself and offered the goblet of warm wine. Anne had sort of invited him, but not exactly.

"Do you need to ask? We don't even a have a full house here. It's been so cold these past few days that not everyone we invited even came."

The goblet was too hot, prickling Wyatt's hands, but he knew that once he had melted enough, he would to enjoy it.

But while waiting for that, he looked around the room. Was Anne even in Hever anymore or had she returned to London?


((OOC history lesson à la Wikipedia: Seaford was the main port in this area and apparently the people living there were kind of a bad lot :). The first three paragraphs explain it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seaford,_East_Sussex

Also to say I did not count the days precisely but only so-so, nor do I really have knowledge of 16th century Dieppe.
Shall we think her note is still in the urn or did she retrieve it?))

[happyfalcon]

Anne wasn't in the library - she was near the kitchen drinking wine, and had gone through several cups already. Mary, the social butterfly that she was, of course was in the center of the excitement. She saw Thomas make his entrance in his sorry state - thank heavens George was being serious this once. Mary bolted through people, looking for Anne, knowing that she would want to see her childhood friend. It took some time but she did finally find her younger sister. Without a word, Mary seized Anne by the arm and dragged her away from the wine kegs.

"Wha-? Mary!!" Anne exclaimed as Mary dragged her to the library.

There was a crowd gathered near the fire, chattering and whispering and pointing. Anne's brow furrowed as she and Mary had to pause while the elder Boleyn sister looked among the people for an opening.

"Mary what's going-"
"Come ON, Nan!" Mary again tugged Anne quickly, nearly making Anne spill her wine as she guided her through the assembled crowd. At the last moment Mary turned and shoved Anne through the last couple people first.
"MARY!?" Anne started to wheel around on her sister but there was a sight that gave her pause.

Even in her flushed, slightly intoxicated state, she recognized those blue eyes. And no amount of frost nor snow could disguise those golden curls. Anne's expression softened, forgetting all about Mary even as her elder sister slid up beside her. Everyone else in the room faded away - replaced with a strange combination of the dull but still present sting of pain from Thomas's absence at the play and the concern at seeing him in such a state.

"T....Thomas..." Anne stammered, searching her mind for some explanation. "My God, what happened to you?"

"We last heard from mother days ago that you were in Arundel - goodness, don't tell me you rode all the way here in this ghastly weather!" Mary exclaimed, giving Anne a slight nudge with her elbow - masking it as an accident of bringing her hand up to her own neck in shock.

Anne knew what Mary meant by the gesture, though she didn't understand how Mary could have figured that it would mean anything to her.

Had he indeed ridden all night in this storm? To get here? Why? Why had he been missing the night of the production? Without a word, no less. What had driven him to Arundel? Why return now? Too many questions. They all bombarded her at once, resulting in a sudden wicked headache. Anne brought her free hand up to her temple and winced a little. Mary glared at her and snatched Anne's cup of wine from her, hissing something under her breath that Anne had drank quite enough. Anne just shot her a nasty look in response.

((/whistle. Wow, it's like the King was TRYING to kill him! But yeah, I didn't do precise days either, the advantage of using vague terms to make things work lol. Uhhh...I mean...do we really WANT someone else to find it? Or Anne could have retrieved it, as confirmation that he really had left earlier that day...idk really what would work to our best advantage...))

[howlikeyouthis]

That familiar voice, no matter how distressed, was all he needed to hear at that moment.

"Anne..." Had Wyatt's face not been half-frosted, his expression might have revealed the crowd far more feeling than he wanted but as of now there was precious little anyone could have guessed from that statement. It was simply a greeting made by one friend to another. Wyatt let out a sigh and closed his eyes briefly, sinking down into the chair.

He didn't have energy to answer any questions yet. Not when he wasn't even sure how much to tell. He could perhaps share some with the Boleyn family. He could laugh and joke with George about the things he'd heard at the docks and he could describe some of the prettier sights with the ladies. And to Anne alone, he would definitely tell of everything that he'd seen that had reminded him of her. But right now, the room was full of people who didn't need to know any of it.

Thomas Boleyn saved him from explaining. "Mary. Anne. Let Master Wyatt get his bearings first. There's time for questions later." The lady of the house appeared then, placing a warm wrap over Wyatt's shoulders. He thanked her and turned back to the sisters.

"Do not worry, ladies. I will be fine after some of this," he lifted up the goblet and took a sip, "and a good nights sleep." He directed the following words to Anne. "I wonder... would it be too forward if I requested your help in pulling my boots off, Mistress Boleyn. I should like to warm my feet by the fire." No chance of him hopping around to remove them this time.

"And music? I should love to hear something played." A hint for Anne to fetch her lute.

As if by a miracle, a small table had already been brought to him with a bowl of broth and bread placed on it. That was pretty much all he could eat, too, despite of being very hungry. No doubt he'd misuse the bounties of the breakfast table the next morning.

The crowd scattered some, after being satisfied (or not satisfied) with what they were getting out of Wyatt at the moment.


((OOC: I meant 'inhabited' Seaford, not 'inhibited', but I'm sure you got that, huh.
It wasn't my intention to make it seem like Henry had such ulterior motives.

The note, well, I don't have plans for it but maybe not anyone finding it at this point. We can do that later with another letter. Btw, it just occurred to me that a letter inside an urn would get soaked once it rained...))

[happyfalcon]

His voice, the way he spoke her name, it was enough to melt any pain or anger she felt towards him. The power of his voice and that single word was far too powerful. Anne's headache faded. He looked so pitifully cold and miserable, she longed to hold him tight to her and let his body absorb the heat from hers. But obviously she could not do this, not now. And not before she got more details from him about his whereabouts that night.

The appearance of their father made all the Boleyn siblings stiffen. As Mary and Anne were the only two standing and being addressed, they tipped their heads down almost in perfect sync and curtseyed slightly.

"Yes, Papa."
"Sorry, Papa."

Anne turned back to Wyatt when he spoke again. She couldn't fight the smile that tugged the corner of her lips. So he was staying the night at least in Hever. Good - it meant she could steal a private moment at some point. For despite her pain and curiosity Anne still burned for his touch. Far hotter than the fire she'd portrayed in the production some week or two ago.

"Not too forward, Sir Thomas - you're a guest of Hever and a Boleyn friend, and one who has clearly traveled a fair distance in this wicked weather and graced us with your presence when others stayed away without a word," A little dig at his absence at the production. But only a little - Anne wasn't cross with him, there was no malice in her tone and her smile was sincere. Just a secret hint to him alone that, in time, when he warmed up and recovered from his journey, that she expected some explanation.

Mary seemed privy to her meaning and glowered a little as Anne stepped before Wyatt. She knelt down slowly, slender fingers of one hand gingerly grasping his ankle - unsure of his level of feeling and not wanting to cause him pain. The other hand grasped his leg above his boot to steady it as she pulled the leather garment off. As Anne reached to repeat the motion with Wyatt's other boot, Mary grinned at his request for music.

"You there!" Mary called to a servant. "Fetch Lady Anne's lute, won't you?"

As the servant scurried to obey, Anne glanced up at Mary once she'd pulled Wyatt's second boot free. Anne rose slowly, taking a few steps away to the side of the fireplace.

"Oh come on, Nan. Don't look like that, you've been practicing, haven't you?" Mary teased, reaching out and pushing a lock of Anne's hair from beside her neck, fully displaying her bare shoulders.

The servant returned quickly enough and held the lute aloft for Anne, who slowly took it from him. Defeated, Anne settled in a small chair beside the fireplace and for a moment tuned the strings. Once that was done her nimble fingers played a slow and sweet tune. There seemed to be a sadness in the melody; while Anne was no Mark Smeaton, she was skilled enough in her own right.

Mary had a servant pull up another seat and she sat beside George, listening to Anne play with a dreamy expression. As she played, Mary glanced to their frosty guest. More than anything wanting to know more of his travels, but forbidden by her father to ask.

"Have you any requests of Anne, Master Wyatt?" Mary paused a moment, of course not realizing someone might glean an ulterior message from the question. "For her lute? I enjoy the song she plays now, but did you have another tune in mind that you wished her to play?"

Anne glanced up from her playing and Mary silently sipped the wine she'd taken from Anne.

((Oh no, I figured that wasn't what you meant I just thought it was ironic given how dangerous the place was and how Henry obviously doesn't like Wyatt.

You have a point...I'm sure the snow and rain destroyed the ink and therefore the message long ago.))

[howlikeyouthis]

Unfortunately that little hint Anne gave of him going missing on that important day didn't quite sink in. Wyatt was still feeling the fatigue too much to grasp everything that was being said and done around him. Slightly embarrassed, he registered others fussing over him. But it felt wonderful, no denying that.

He winced, taking in a sharp breath as Anne pulled off his boots. He wasn't in pain- no, he was in little pain, but it was nothing he couldn't endure now that he was in this warm house among friends. Once he could lift his legs up to a stool and try to move his toes, life seemed so much better.

"Thank you." His eyes fixated on Anne for a moment too long. Mary's fingers had swept across her sister's shoulder, exposing the smooth skin that Wyatt had kissed so many times. He lowered his gaze and hid himself behind the goblet.

While Anne tuned her instrument, George refilled his own cup and, choosing to believe his father's command had been directed only to the girls, bombarded Wyatt with his own questions.

"So, tell us everything. Where have you been? You look terrible. Where did you go from Arundel? Why would you ride in this weather?"

Wyatt shook his head in an almost unnoticeable manner, smiling faintly. Really, he did't feel like talking. Yet, to ease his friends' minds, he had to offer some explanation. However vague.

"The King summoned me early on that day. You know, the day the ladies' had their performance." Wyatt didn't look at Anne, but wished that she was paying attention. "You don't say no to the King."

That was all he'd say for now. George nodded. Reaching for the bowl of broth, Wyatt settled to listen Anne play. He liked that piece. It suited this evening.

Considering Mary's question, Wyatt rubbed his chin. "Hmm. I am ever so sorry I missed the play. How did it go? Would you, Anne, be able to play any of the tunes Mark Smeaton composed for it?"

[happyfalcon]

He may not have registered her subtle hint but Wyatt answered it all the same. So the king had sent him away? Oh, that made Anne mad enough to shout at his majesty. But she knew that she couldn't do such a thing. So Anne continued playing her lute, finishing the tune with a skillful twang of the strings.

The explanation he provided was enough to make Anne forgive him completely. Not that she could really stay angry at him long anyway. She smiled to Wyatt as he looked upon her, happy to have him so close again.

"I very much doubt that I could play so masterfully as Mark Smeaton, Sir Thomas," Anne replied with a defeated shrug.

"Well then you simply must show him your dance, Anne!" Mary chimed. "You're the only one here who participated, so only you know how it went."

"I could, but there were three other women with me for that part," Anne replied sheepishly.

"Well show him your part now, and maybe after he's recovered from his journey you can show Sir Thomas the dance of the Two Spirits," Mary grinned.

Unable to protest without looking suspicious, Anne simply nodded and stood up.

"You see, Sir Thomas, the play was a tribute to her majesty the Queen. Two spirits represented the King and Queen, and the four elements, earth, air, fire and water, blessed their union. I played Fire, your sister Margaret played Air."

As best she could, Anne stepped to a more open space where she could be seen and replicated her dance, completed a series of turns and moves as she had before. Once complete she bowed as she had, and the room erupted into applause, which startled Anne and made her blush.

"The original was much better, but that was my small part," Anne blushed darker as she addressed Thomas.

[howlikeyouthis]

When she offered that smile at him, Wyatt relaxed visibly. It had troubled him so to think Anne would never forgive him for disappearing without a word. Her expression warmed him almost more than the fire. He would still need to apologize in private but he would do that in a heartbeat when the opportunity presented itself.

He followed silently as Mary prodded Anne to perform the dance that Wyatt had missed seeing. George jumped up, clapping hands thrice and raising his voice to a, "Silence!" to interrupt the chatter in the room.

Wyatt turned around to watch. At least now he had a reason to look at Anne as intently as he wanted, which he did, smiling all the way. Mary was standing behind his chair and Wyatt thanked for it silently. Anne's siblings were the ones who could first spot the love he felt for their sister if he wasn't careful.

Suppressing a desire to whistle, Wyatt clapped his hands just as hard as the rest of the crowd.

"It was wonderful and the lack of music only emphasized your talent." He rose up and made a bow even if it was slightly comical with his boots standing alone behind him.

"And did you not say you represented Fire? Let me guess, in a gorgeous, flaming red dress?" He sat down again, touching his heart. "How can I ever forgive myself for not being there?"

He paused. "More than that, can you forgive, mistress Boleyn?"

So this wasn't the private place he had imagined but there was no reason to wait for the occasion.