Anne Boleyn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
happyfalcon) wrote2014-04-12 02:15 pm
happyfalcon) wrote2014-04-12 02:15 pm
Entry tags:
Prompt: Masquerade
((ooc: As always, free for anyone to tag, just beware the historical inaccuracies!))
Few things made Anne happier than dressing up. A masquerade ball at her family's castle at Hever before All Hallow's Eve was just what she had needed. Mary and her mother came from France to join the festivities, and George was finishing his own outfit in his room. Anne herself had prepared a fine blue gown and a nicer mask to match. She pinned some of her dark hair back and let it fall in waves down her back.
After she tied the mask behind her head, donned the dress and proper jewels, Anne made her way downstairs. Only a few guests had arrived, all clad in masks and laughing gaily. Anne recognized a few voices, and of course she recognized the goofy gait and teasing of her brother George. But others she didn't recognize.
Still, she enjoyed the atmosphere.
Few things made Anne happier than dressing up. A masquerade ball at her family's castle at Hever before All Hallow's Eve was just what she had needed. Mary and her mother came from France to join the festivities, and George was finishing his own outfit in his room. Anne herself had prepared a fine blue gown and a nicer mask to match. She pinned some of her dark hair back and let it fall in waves down her back.
After she tied the mask behind her head, donned the dress and proper jewels, Anne made her way downstairs. Only a few guests had arrived, all clad in masks and laughing gaily. Anne recognized a few voices, and of course she recognized the goofy gait and teasing of her brother George. But others she didn't recognize.
Still, she enjoyed the atmosphere.
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So Anne moved away from him, combing her fingers through her waves of dark hair to smooth it out again and tame it.
"Yes, always. A woman may say always as much as she pleases - men are easily swayed by promises of gold and glory," Anne glanced up to him again. "Women are not so easily swayed. Gold and glory are valuable, but there are better things."
Her tone was not harsh, but it was indeed stern. It did not reflect the lightness in his own.
"So tell me, Thomas: I know what I desire and what I need - but what is it you think I desire and need?"
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Yet he had to roll his eyes for the claim that women were more steadfast than men. Wyatt didn't have respect of all the men in the world but he wanted to put a good word for some of them. "The best of men seek gold and glory for the sake of their ladies, not for themselves."
That question of hers? If it had not been directed at him, Wyatt would have commended Anne for it. She was smart, and direct. She wasn't afraid to put him on the spot for something he'd said. Now, he was forced to think quickly for something that sounded less like polite nonsense and more like proof that he knew her mind. In reality he didn't know.
"You desire to be loved by someone who is yours and yours alone. And you need... a life without worries, financial or otherwise."
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"And yet, more often than not, more men seek it for themselves," There was a bitterness in her tone - not necessarily directed at him, or at least it hadn't been her intention. Her brother and father were proof enough of that fact.
Thomas Boleyn could claim until judgment day that he had pushed Mary and Anne to pursue the king because he would have made a fine husband for them; the finest, even. Mary may have fallen for such talk, but Anne knew better. Their father was out for himself, to raise his own wealth and status.
Even if that meant turning his daughters into whores.
"Not completely incorrect," Anne replied to his answer. "But you've mixed them up a bit. Life is not without worry, Thomas. Surely you of all people should know better than that. Elsewise it would not be called life. It is not life without worry that I need."
She paused, contemplating whether she should actually give him the answer. After a moment, she decided against it, bending down to retrieve her mask before standing up again.
"But it matters not," Anne glanced to him again - she tried to lock her emotions away as she had a thousand other times. There was no anger nor sorrow on her face, though she knew this would not remain so for very long. "You're quite right, Sir Thomas, I should be getting back before I'm missed."
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There were hardly any places where women could express their mind. Apparently not even at their own homes: his wife had not managed to voice her grievances. She had merely withdrawn herself from him.
"I wasn't talking about what life is. I was talking about what it should be. Without worry. I'm surprised you don't share that thought."
He pulled a long face for to be called 'Sir Thomas'. This couldn't- why?- no!No! This couldn't end so badly. Not again. Wyatt grabbed Anne's wrist.
"Anne! No. Do not do this to me again. If you do, I'll swear-" He let go of her just as quickly and lowered his voice. "It'll be the end. Is that what you really want?"
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For there were some women fortunate enough that their fathers legitimately did care for their happiness and tried to do what they could to help them achieve it. Thomas Boleyn was not such a father.
When he grabbed her she did give a little yelp - not of pain, he hadn't hurt her; merely of surprise. She hadn't expected him to do that. For a moment she just stared hard at him, her chest rising and falling at a rapid rate.
"...The end of what Thomas? How can something end that never really began in the first place?" Anne countered. But she didn't answer his question - a verbal plan she had done on purpose.
She would not answer that question, because her answer would have been that she really would rather die than be without him. Even if he wasn't hers, even if he could never truly be...
"What is the point in discussing things being anything other than what they are? You speak of life as it should be, which is all well and good except that...it just..." Anne pulled her wrist back as he released her. She couldn't manage the words, she didn't know what she meant to say. "Things are what they are - we lack the power to change it, simply put. Why discuss things that cannot change? Why tease ourselves?"
It wasn't really how she felt, deep down - she wanted things to change. She wanted to get away from everything, from Henry, from her father. But she lacked the ability to do so. When this whole thing had first started she had fantasized of escape; but over time, when nothing changed and there was no glimmer of hope that things would get better, Anne had resigned herself to a pessimistic existence.
A whore for the king and a slave to her father's will.
"Why fool ourselves with dreams, if we lack the means to bring them to fruition?" Anne had to look away then, her eyes going glassy as she bit the side of her tongue to keep herself from tears. "I'm sorry Thomas, but I am...not content with things as they are. But evidently, they will not change, and I can only get my hopes up so far before I lose them completely..."
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What she had said wasn't untrue. They lacked the means to change what was the reality. Still, life was not static. What was true today could have been quite the opposite the next day.
But what did it matter if Anne didn't believe the same? He had been defeated.
"Very well. Let us not discuss any further. I will bid my farewell to you here and now as we cannot return to the castle together anyway. I'll stay behind." He gave a deep bow and turned to search for his own mask. It was black and hard to locate in the midst of the dark shadows but find it he did.
Like other guests, he had been invited to stay over, after all the party was supposed to go on all night. Things turning awry with Anne, he'd have preferred to return to Allington. However, finding an excuse to leave at this hour didn't appeal to him, either. Damn! He was forced to endure the night at Hever. At least he could wake up early and be on his way without meeting with Anne again.
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The precise same thought entered her mind: How foolish she had been, to think that the feelings he claimed for her were strong enough for him to want to protect her, rather than continue stirring in the shadows. Anne bit down so hard on her own tongue it was a miracle she didn't bite straight through it. She looked away as he groped about for his mask.
Don't let him see, don't let him know - she couldn't let him see the tears in her eyes. She couldn't let him see how deep this had hurt her. Anne had to pretend, had to be strong, had to be cruel. Even if she felt like crumbling inside. Unable to fight the reflexes of her body, Anne turned, reached out to him, her arm trembling a bit - thank heaven he was turned at that point.
"Thomas, I-" No, her voice was cracking too much, she didn't dare say anything more, lest it fail and betray her.
She turned, and left, tying her mask over her face to conceal herself. God forbid her father or George see her in such a state! Anne returned to the castle, but not to the festivities. She summoned a maid upon returning, keeping her back to the wall to hide how loosely laced her gown had been. Anne told the maid that she was ill, feigning drunken sluggishness to make her story more believable, and potentially explain her disheveled appearance. She bid the maid to tell her father that she was not feeling well, and that she would retire early.
The maid obeyed, and Anne left to her bedroom. She sent her remaining maids away, not wanting contact with anyone else for the remainder of the evening. Anne violently tugged at the ribbon of her mask and threw it away. She was just as violent with the laces of her dress, getting them just loose enough so that she could wrench herself free of the garment before falling to her bed. Under the cover of her blankets, she released herself of the bonds of propriety. She was alone now, it couldn't hurt. Anne buried her face in her hands and wept miserably.
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Feel free to make them meet at the stables or somewhere else.))
Wyatt returned to the castle slowly after Anne, wondering what she had tried to tell him before leaving. From love to hate, and thence for to relent? Of course she had her pride as well. He wouldn't care for her if she didn't. He wasn't turned on by women who echoed everything men said even if that would have been the easier choice. Anne certainly wasn't easy.
The entrance to Hever was lit by torches. Wyatt stopped to look at it. As much as he loved his own home, there was no denying Hever was a gorgeous little castle. Normally he would have been delighted to walk under the portcullis, now he had to drag his feet.
Once inside, he was practically hit by a lightning. That lightning came in the form of George Boleyn who - seemingly out of nowhere - slapped his hand on Wyatt's shoulder and laughed heartily.
"Thomas! I see you've been enjoying yourself. No, don't tell me which maid-" George's hand grabbed the lapel of Wyatt's jacket and flung it playfully. "For pity's sake, get dressed. I wouldn't mind but my father is still the master of this manor." Laughing some more, George waved at his lady friend across the hall and was gone. Wyatt stood there for a split moment, dumbstruck, before he gathered himself and quickly fastened the clasps of his doublet.
The rest of the evening went in a haze for him. When Wyatt realized Anne wasn't among the guests, he resented her good luck of escaping the party. There was no excuse he could have used to do the same. Though he did consider himself lucky in that Mary, Anne's sister with whom he had promised to dance with, was too occupied with other guests. Wyatt did't have trouble finding company with the men who were emptying the wine kegs.
Later, lying on a cot he was given, in a room with a dozen guests, his mind was drafting a poem that hopefully he'd remember the next day.
Is it possible
That so high debate,
So sharp, so sore, and of such rate,
Should end so soon that was begun so late?
Is it possible?
Come morning, Wyatt managed to get up at a decent hour. He kindly declined the offer of a breakfast (lest he see Anne there) and headed towards the stables. His first stop was at the well, where he splashed cold water on his face to actually wake himself up.
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For all her emotional exhaustion and fatigue, Anne could not sleep. Once her tears had stopped, Anne took to staring out her window, seeking solace in the stars and moon in the night sky. But there was no comfort now.
Begrudgingly, she rose when the sun came again. Anne let the servants dress her in a riding gown with a slit in the front of her dress to allow her to ride more comfortably. Perhaps her favorite horse could give her some comfort.
Perhaps astride him when he ran would help her feel free, if only for a moment.
As the guests assembled for breakfast, Anne took a small pastry from a tray and nibbled absently at it. As she glanced about she noticed that Thomas was not among the other guests. A quick question of a servant girl confirmed that he had indeed spent the night, but had declined breakfast.
Had he gone already? That thought hurt Anne once again, worse than before. He did not wish to reconcile, clearly, if he had left without speaking to her.
Still she made her way to the stable. Honestly Anne did not expect to see Thomas there. And when she looked up and saw him at the well, her throat closed, silencing her.
He hadn't left. But what to say? What could she do?
"...Are you truly so cruel to leave things as they are?" She finally managed, leaning against one of the support beams. "Or without saying goodbye, at least?"
She was unable to stop herself from continuing:
"And will you leave me thus?"
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He didn't expect to see her. Wyatt glanced nervously around, making sure there wasn't anyone close enough to hear him. Talking to Anne was nothing out of the ordinary or off-limits but Wyatt feared his body language and tone of voice would out him. The one person he especially didn't wish to witness the moment was of course her father. Thomas Boleyn didn't have a reason to suspect anything but most fathers tended to be oddly perceptive (or skeptical) about their daughters.
Wyatt wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. God she looked good! He could spend all day looking at her. However, his words didn't reflect that thought as he opened his mouth.
"Why are you here?" She could have easily avoided him. Besides, Wyatt didn't appreciate having the lines of his own poem thrown at his face. Hence he was not able to keep his voice quite as neutral as he would have preferred.
"I don't want to say goodbye," he hissed between his teeth. "Don't you know that?"
He grabbed his saddlebag but made no attempt to leave yet. Only now realizing what she was wearing, Wyatt had to ask, "Where are you going?" Like it was any of his business.
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Anne was not so dim-witted as to let her father get suspicious to begin with. He may have been wary of her whereabouts, but Thomas Boleyn was a bit more concerned with his welfare and fortune than he was with Anne. So she knew full well how to play that to her advantage.
She tried to fight the urge to show how hurt she was at his words. Anne bit the side of her tongue to keep her mouth taut, to keep her lips from turning into the frown they wanted to turn into. Still, she did give a slight shrug and glance to one of the horses when he asked that, bringing one hand up to stroke the beast's velvet nose.
"Why should I have reason to be in my family's stables?" She pointed out. "But, to answer your question, I did not wish to leave things as they were."
Anne glanced up to him, giving a slight sigh. Perhaps this had not been a good idea.
"But, if you'd rather not discuss it; if you'd prefer to leave things bitter as they are, I suppose I am powerless against it," she tilted her head a bit, turning to face him more fully. "Though I would indeed like to convince you otherwise..."
As if anxious for her touch again, the horse nudged his head out of the stall and nudged his snout against Anne's shoulder. A slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and Anne reached up to stroke his nose again. It gave her time to ponder his question.
"I'm not sure really," Anne confessed. "I thought a ride might clear my head - might raise my spirits. Besides, a full gown might make me look out of place here, considering I wanted to speak to you, don't you think?"
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"As I recall you were not keen to discuss matters the last I saw you." But really, he did not wish to be confrontational anymore. It took too much energy. And as far as he could tell, she wanted good relations to reign between them again. He could afford to let her explain. Wyatt nodded his silent agreement.
"You, boy!" he yelled at a young stable boy who was walking by with an armload of hay. The youth came running and greeted Anne first, then Wyatt. "Saddle the horses, please. For the lady, and for me. The dark bay in the corner," he pointed towards his trusted gelding.
"Did you say you had plans to ride past the church, my lady? I am more than happy to accompany you there." The St Peter's Church, up the hill. It was ridiculous, perhaps, to play it out like that, but Wyatt wanted to leave the impression (yes, in front of a mere boy) that it was purely accidental that he'd be riding out with Anne. Which it was - accidental - though he was about to make it less so. They would ride together further than the church.
The boy worked swiftly and in no time Wyatt had helped Anne on her horse and then himself.
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"I did indeed - I thought it might do my horse some good to have a nice, long run," Anne replied with the flawless smile and charm she was so known for. When she wanted to be, she could be quite the actress. "I see no reason why we can't share company, Sir Thomas, as long as we both happen to be heading in the same direction."
It always amazed her to see how quick the stableboy saddled the horses. It didn't take him terribly long to dress her horse and Anne was only too happy to let Wyatt help her up. Even if there was no affection in that touch, even if he was only trying to be polite, she loved it; loved feeling his touch.
Anne waited for him to climb into his own saddle before nudging her horse's sides and sending the beast into a run. She kept a tight grip on the reins so as not to fall, and it didn't take long to reach the church. Still, Anne turned her horse a bit farther, though she slowed him down to a canter and waited for Thomas to catch up.
"You did not seem so keen to hear matters either, Thomas," Anne pointed out, able to continue their conversation without much fear of being overheard now. She paused, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "But I..."
She sighed in exasperation.
"Thomas, I simply could not leave things the way we did last night...do you truly disagree?" Anne shook her head.
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He didn't try to race her, being too tired for games, but he did gallop after her, pleased to leave Hever behind him. Slowing down to ride beside her, Wyatt was quiet a while.
"I do disagree," he replied softly, "but not out of spite. I mean, what does it really matter? Will it make you feel so much better to pretend all is well?"
The harvested fields stretched out in front of them. Wyatt looked straight ahead, not at her. It was easier to distance himself from the difficulties of the conversation that way.
"I don't have answers or solutions, Anne. I came to your party last night without expectations. You turned it to something else. I've told you I want to see you. That's all I know. If it's not good enough for you, what is?"
((OOC: I know we didn't discuss a set canon point - since this is AU anyway - but are you ok with dating this to a time when Henry's interest in Anne is not yet public knowledge?
You've been mentioning Henry but it's just been Anne's internal dialogue, so those comments wouldn't mess up this idea. I figure that Wyatt is only suspecting things atm but doesn't know anything for sure. It would be nice to play it him founding out.))
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Anne glanced to him, hurt that he would not look at her. But she simply shook her head and returned the action, turning her eyes forward towards the fields and trees beyond.
"I would feel better if some manner of solution could be reached, Thomas, is that so wrong?" Anne's reply was a bit sharper than she had intended, but she did not appreciate being blamed for the course of the previous night. "I do not expect you to have answers on your own, Thomas. But I would expect, if you indeed had any feelings for me that you would respect me enough to discuss this rationally."
Though it occurred to Anne...
"And as I recall it was you who kissed me first, who turned it into something more. But...I had no quarrel with that," Anne continued. "Thomas I want to see you, only...it is complicated. We cannot have it so simply as we once did."
She tried to stay cold and distant, dark eyes focused away from him. Anne debated telling him; for the moment her relations with the king were quiet, and meant to be so. Besides, she tells herself, if he's really as cold and uncaribg as he's coming off now, will it really matter to him?
"Though I may want it to be..."
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"I'm here, riding with you." By his free will. He didn't have to be.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he glanced at Anne a bit longer this time. "Come now. You wanted to dance with me outside in the gardens. What is that if not inviting a kiss?"
He wouldn't call it blaming her but he sure hadn't initiated a secret meeting. Never would he regret it, though. "It was a good kiss. Anne..." He looked at her properly now. "Truce?"
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"It was hot inside the castle," Anne tried to keep her frown but it ended up breaking into a smile. "And just a good kiss?"
Anne nodded slowly in agreement to the truce. She did not enjoy arguing with him, it always left her sad and lonesome. Still, she knew this wasn't a full solution to the problem.
"But what happens now, Thomas? We never did decide how to proceed..." she pointed out.
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Relaxing a bit, he felt comfortable enough to tease her more. "Very hot, and even hotter outside of it." Guiding his horse closer to hers, he added, "My good lady, I refuse to believe you would wish to hear a more detailed description than a good kiss."
He sighed at her question. He was no wiser than a moment ago. "I don't know. What are the possibilities? Would you live with me if I won't get a divorce?" He knew that was a lot to ask, but it needed to be said out loud.
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"I just happen to think there are better adjectives for that kiss than 'good'," Anne replied.
She was quiet for several minutes, considering the suggestion. For a moment she just imagined living with him, being with him. Married or not, Anne could be content.
"If we could.." Anne sighed. "But we can't...for more than one reason."
Her images and dreams of being with him, waking up with him, were slowly fading away as Henry's forboding shadow loomed over her mind.
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As Anne fell silent, so did Wyatt. He wasn't so foolish as to think she'd cheerfully jump at the chance to be his mistress (and to let the world to know it) but as Anne didn't say anything for quite some time, he almost hoped she was considering it.
And then she refused. "No... you deserve better." He shook his head, understanding. "Believe me, I didn't ask it lightly." He could live like that but he didn't wish public scorn on her.
His marriage was an obstacle in itself. Unsurmountable, it seemed. But it wasn't the only one and he needed to know what else he was up against. Anne had never explained why she had turned away from him. He could only make intelligent guesses about it.
"I believe it's time for honesty, don't you think? I'm married, yes, but would it even change anything if I wasn't? Your father... I know he wants to make a good match for you. Is that on the works as we speak?"
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Or rather, how to explain without making him think that she's at all happy about it?
"He does...and it is..." A deep breath. "He wishes me to court the King, and to do a better job than Mary, at that."
So it was obvious then that her father cared not for public scorn of her. No woman who pursued the King ever had a decent reputation at court.
Reputation, when it came down to it, mattered little to Anne, though not in the case of the King. If she were to throw away her reputation, it would need to be for a worthy cause: Love, loyalty. Things the King of England knew little about.
Anne couldn't look at Thomas, she could already feel her chest growing tight as her emotions began war within herself.
"I do not think that it is a matter of my deserving better, Thomas. I would like to think that it's about my deserving to be happy, or at least free to make my own choice."
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It was as if Wyatt's horse was as unsettled to hear the news as he was; it kept takings nervous sidesteps and not stopping despite of his efforts. Finally managing to face Anne, he tried to catch her eyes but she was avoiding looking at him. Well, now he knew what he was up against.
"I shouldn't be surprised but... The King is as firmly married as I am." He thought of Mary, the rumours that surrounded her, and he thought of Bessie Blount whom the King had discarded earlier. So now Anne, his Anne, was to be the next.
"Damn him! Damn your father!" he blurted out.
He didn't want to think how far things had already gone during the last few months. Henry didn't have a habit of waiting for women. Though something she said made Wyatt wonder...
"Do you want the King if he's the one to make you happy?"
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Still, Thomas' outburst startled her a bit, demanded her direct attention - so she looked up at him. In a strange way, she was glad for his anger towards her father; to her, it meant that he saw how utterly ridiculous and hypocritical this plan seemed as well. The king had discarded Mary, among countless others, and now she would be lucky to find a mediocre husband, let alone a good one as their father claimed to want for his daughters. Would the same fate befall her? Would the king discard Anne as well, and render her a social pariah whom no man would even consider marrying?
How could her father tolerate such a thing? His lofty ambitions would cost far too much in the end, at least in Anne's opinion.
"It's a null point because he does not make me happy," Anne replied. "The king is coarse, greedy - as a king ought to be, I suppose."
But that was not the way to Anne's heart. Suddenly a memory occurred to her and Anne's mouth twisted in a half-amused smirk.
"He thinks me some common chambermaid, I think. He seems to think that by giving me gifts and fine jewels that I'll melt and fall prey to his advances," Anne snapped. "I sent them back. But still he writes and sends more gifts in their place."
They were fine gifts indeed, there was no doubt of that; and her father had been terribly angry when he learned of her refusal. But Anne had no interest in Henry. The letters he wrote her seemed terribly ideal - clearly he was saying what he thought she wanted to hear. Trying to woo her and seduce her with his pen.
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But then, what could he say? He was pleased to know Anne didn't care for the King, at least not yet, but hearing about the many gifts she had been given wasn't exactly comforting.
"I see... It's not just your father's wish. It's the King's wish as well." The motives of those two men no doubt varied but they seemed to have a mutual agenda.
Trying to seduce a woman with his pen. That wasn't far from true in Wyatt's case, either. The difference was, he couldn't add jewellery to his letters.
His face turned into a frown as he sighed a desperate, "Anne-". Blood rushed through him; he needed to get away. Not from her but from the situation. So Wyatt did what Anne had did when leaving the stables. After giving her a nod to follow, he urged his horse into a fast-paced gallop across the fields.
Riding gave him the much needed rush but with all the wine in his veins, he had to pause quicker than he wanted. Jumping down, and throwing the reins carelessly over a low-hanging tree branches, he stumbled a few steps and stopped to catch his breath.
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Thomas always wrote in a soft sweetness that she loved. Henry, as she said, was direct and coarse in his phrases.
"They do," she nodded. "But no one bothers to consider my wishes..."
The second part was a soft addition, quiet. There was no subtle hint of bitterness in it either. She was indeed angry. Her father thrust her into this, without regard for her concerns and her desires. His only concern had been for his own fortune.
Damn him, indeed.
Anne looked up to Thomas again and turned her horse to follow as he beckoned her. She kicked her horse's sides, spurring him on after Thomas. Though when he slowed to a stop, she did the same. Anne slid slowly from her saddle, landing gracefully on her feet. She followed his motion, setting her reins on a branch before stepping up to him.
"Thomas?" She tilted her head a bit to get a better look at him, to make sure that he was all right.
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