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hathycolFinished with a whole day to spare. Egads. Thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
loneraven for a fabulous beta and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dwcanon_fodder for making sure I could have a throwaway reference to The Scarf. This is about 3000 words more than it was meant to be. Good fun.
Title: Courting Gloriana
Author: Hathor -hathy_col
Summary: Written for Natalie -kareswen. She wanted:
-shippiness (of the Doc/Rose variety)
-um
-Medieval history - Tudors etc.
I hope I provided. Jack even says 'um' at one point.
Warnings: None.
Pairings: A little bit of Doctor/Rose, and a lot of Jack being indiscriminate.
Disclaimer: Alas, the BBC own Doctor Who. I’d quite like to, if they’re selling at any point soon. I’m not making any money from this venture, although again, I wouldn’t mind if anyone wants to send some to me. British pounds, please, they look prettier. If you want to know who Shaun Ogg is, read a Discworld novel.
The minstrel coughs nervously. He doesn’t like his life out here in France as an Englishman, but of course, he had no choice now that old fraud, Shakespeare, takes all the court’s time. He needs to feed himself, so the court of Henry IV of France(1) will have to do.
Feeding himself has been increasingly difficult, though. No one wants to hear his cold English poems or his bawdy tales, and Chaucer went out of fashion with the plague. No, France wants delicate imagery and beautiful ladies, neither of which the minstrel can provide. He had been thinking of moving onto a different European court – perhaps Bohemia? – when the French king himself had summoned him. Now the minstrel waits outside the king’s antechamber and finds himself terrified. Private audiences with Elizabeth never did that, he muses sadly.
The door opens and the minstrel jumps as a cardinal, resplendent in his red robes, leaves the room. He tenses, waiting for the traditional insult a man of the cloth throws at Englishmen, but it doesn’t arrive. Nevertheless, he is still tense when the king calls him in.
Protocol must be strictly observed, and the minstrel is careful to enter the room and fall into a deep bow precisely four paces from where the king sits. The French monarch is impeccably dressed, as one might expect from the leader of the most fashionable court in Europe. Henry waves a bejewelled hand indulgently and the minstrel hesitantly rises.
“Sing me a song,” he says abruptly. The minstrel has barely opened his mouth when the king interrupts him. “No…” His eyes light up. “Tell me of your precious Virginia.” He is cunning, this king, and would have to be to have seized the throne of a troubled and divided France. “You are an Englishman. You are all in love with her, non? Even if she has found another favourite. Tell me a faraway tale.”
The minstrel is left without words. “Your Highness,” he tries to say. “Surely your most majestic court will care little for the gossip of the English court?”
“The court may care little for English tittle-tattle, but I want to hear of your Queen. You will be well-paid.”
The minstrel needs to eat, and he knows it. The king evidently does too from the small grin he has on his lips. Performing for the king may well earn him a handsome sum, but the king’s approval would give him potential for performances in front of other nobles. The opportunity it too great to pass up. He racks his brains desperately for a suitable story from Elizabeth’s court…
“Allow me to entrance you, Majesty, with a most mysterious tale of a visitor, no, three visitors to the court of Elizabeth. One a beautiful maiden, with a most beguiling smile. Another, a man, with a most curious accent. The third, another man, dressed in a strange surcoat of black leather – yes, Majesty, black leather!(2) They said they were visitors from another place, far away, and they left almost as soon as they came. However,” the minstrel drops his voice confidentially, “I do not believe that Elizabeth will ever forget them! Your Majesty, this is the tale of a visitor known only as ‘The Doctor…’”
~~
“Doctor, they’re all staring.”
“You will go and pick a dress better suited for James rather than Elizabeth.”
“Eh?”
“Basically? You’re fifty years ahead of fashion.”
As Rose stared and the Doctor strode along triumphantly, Jack sniggered. “What happened to the TARDIS picking out the right clothes?” he asked, not unreasonably.
“She does!” defended the Doctor. “You went searching, didn’t you?”
Rose looked away. “Maybe. What’s so bad about that?”
“You don’t have the same fashion sense as an Elizabethan – thank god – but the TARDIS does. She’s tuned into most places and picks out a costume to blend in with.”
“Oh yeah? Explain the schoolgirl outfit, then.”
The Doctor shrugged. “It’s not like I wore it,” he said, completely unfazed. He paused. “I did think about it, but it never would have fitted, really.”
Rose stared. So did Jack.
“I was going to ask about the leather bikini, but I’m a bit afraid to now,” Jack whispered to Rose.
“So, Jack,” the Doctor declared, seemingly oblivious of the conversation going on around him, “what do you think of Elizabethan England? I normally ask Rose, but she’s too busy being eyed up by the Duke of Norfolk. Just don’t, Rose, he’s not worth it.”
“Oi!” Rose nudged the Doctor. “Leave it out.”
“Good. I’m not taking any more of your boyfriends home, and certainly not that one. Well, Captain Jack Harkness?”
“It’s… different,” Jack admitted. “I never bothered coming here. Didn’t really seem important, you know?”
The Doctor sniffed. “Shows how much you know. Always the same… you never concentrate on the people, always the events. Does Virginia mean anything to you? Lovely lady, went a bit strange towards the end. I thought you might like to meet her.”
Jack stared at the Doctor’s back as though he believed the Doctor had lost whatever sanity he had left. “You brought me here to meet a chick?”
The Doctor turned to face Jack and rolled his eyes. “Yes. I brought you here to meet a chick.”
~~
“Minstrel, I grow displeased,” the king says, a slight frown on his face. “What is the point of the story thus far?” The minstrel’s heart quails, but the inner showman forces him to smile and continue.
“My liege – if I may be so bold – I am only trying to show the very strangeness of the visitors. I was there, and I listened as they walked into that very room.”
“You eavesdropped? On a member of the court?”
The minstrel’s stomach drops by several notches and he wonders if he’s going to pass out. “My… majesty, they were talking terribly loudly, and it was impossible not to hear…”
The king is smiling. “For a minstrel, you do not seem to understand French humour. Little matter. Continue with your story
The minstrel decides it is a good idea to breathe again, and continues.
~~
“I learnt about this, in history,” Rose said, out of the blue. “Don’t the Spanish try to invade?” The Doctor couldn’t hide his brief flash of surprise, and Rose nudged him. “I did learn something before I became a shop girl, you know. History GCSE and everything.”
“Well, they’ve not gone to war with Spain yet. Welcome to 1563, everyone. Don’t insult the Queen, we’ve mentioned that you should avoid the Duke who’s staring at you right now –“ at this, a middle-aged man with a cunning face looked away swiftly – “and apart from that, have fun.”
Jack held out an arm to Rose, looking amused. “My lady?”
Rose giggled, and took the arm. “We’ll be back later,” she said between giggles, and allowed Jack to lead her through the throng of people. She gave the Doctor a small wave before devoting all of her attention to the path ahead of her. The Doctor sighed and leaned against the panelled wall, and tried to ignore the significant looks that Lady Catherine Grey was giving him. She was a fairly attractive lady, but really, he was only there to make sure that Jack danced with the Queen. Bloody revenge, that would be. What the Doctor hadn’t mentioned was that the Queen was having her arm quietly twisted to find a husband, and that this gathering was a proto-Blind Date. Elizabeth danced with the carefully selected list of candidates and it all went from there. Neither Jack or Rose had appeared to notice the opulent wealth almost dripping from the walls, but that was probably be expected, given that Jack knew next to nothing about Elizabethan culture and Rose had only seen the bits of history left to the twenty-first century. Sad, really. He briefly debated telling them more about their surroundings before giving up on the idea. It would simply ruin the surprise.
Good Queen Bess hadn’t deigned to make an appearance yet. The Doctor had, in fact, met her once, but he sincerely hoped she wouldn’t recognise him. There was no reason for her too, but she was a wily (if vain) old bird who needed more credit than was given to. It would certainly make an unusual conversation, as well as explaining just what had happened to that scarf.
Trumpets sounded, and the Doctor decided to ape the apes and look expectant. Elizabeth, it seemed, had finally chosen what to wear. He decided to go and find Jack and Rose after all, before they did something stupid and got themselves arrested for treason.
--
“So, are you really going to dance with the Queen?” Rose was fascinated by the concept. Jack grinned.
“If I can charm her and dazzle her with my moves, yeah.”
Rose mock-pouted. “What am I meant to do, then?” she asked pointedly. “I’m all dressed up and apparently I’m being abandoned for the Queen of England. Good replacement, I suppose,” she mused absently.
“Go and dance with the Doctor,” Jack teased, very gently. “He was doing more than criticising that dress, you know.”
“Shut up,” said Rose, very simply. She looked around the room again before turned to Jack. “Hang about. I thought Americans hated kings and that!”
“Americans from his time? No! Good King Randy from 2187 was one of the best kings in American history,” said the Doctor suddenly, leaning between the two, looking highly amused. Rose would have jumped, but she had grown used to him leaning in and interrupting conversations between her and… well, just about anyone. “They drafted him in after the whole political system got in a bit of a mess.”
Rose began to laugh. “Now you’re winding me up.”
“Oh, I wish I was,” said the Doctor with a sigh. Jack was looking perfectly straight-laced and the Doctor seemed convinced.
Rose’s laughter died and she went slightly red, reminded once again that there really was a lot to learn. “What are those trumpets for?”
“Queen Elizabeth’s arrived. I’d advise going up in a few minutes, Jack. How many other men can say that they danced with the Queen of England?” He paused. “Don’t answer that.”
“What’s my cover?”
The Doctor stared blankly. “You want cover? Make it up. Earl of blahdiblah, something about a romantic and dashing history. She’ll dance with you. She likes pretty-boys.”
Jack twirled. “Why, Doctor, I never knew you felt that way. I’m charmed.”
“So you should be. Off you pop, see you later then.” The Doctor gave Jack a cheery wave. “We’ll be watching you from the balcony.”
And with that, Jack was alone on the floor, watching with other expectant-looking men as the Queen of England and Ireland, Governor of the Anglican Church and Rightful Queen of France descended the stairs.
~~
If the minstrel has a weak point in storytelling, it is his insistence on including all the details he possibly can. By including this last little nugget, he realises he may have just signed his death warrant. He stumbles over the words and is relieved to hear the king laugh.
“Oh, that claim amuses me. You all believe you still have a chance!” he says, now with a smile. “Your slip is forgiven. You may continue.”
~~
“Doctor, if Jack gets to dance with Queen Elizabeth, do does this mean I get to dance with the king of England at some point soon?” Rose asked innocently as they ascended the stairs to the balcony to watch what looked like the beginnings of an elaborate dance. She couldn’t see Jack yet, although she could see Elizabeth. She was more or less impossible to miss, after all – a dress that went out much more than she did and a distinctive crop of red hair.
“Rose, you’re not going dancing with an English king.”
“Why not?”
“Number one: you’d probably end up taking one of them back to the TARDIS, given your past record. Number two: the vast majority are inbred, insane, old or just a bit weird. In some cases, they’re all three. Number three: droit de seigneur. You’re pretty, and most kings would take advantage of that.”
Rose stared. “Say all that again. In English, please.”
“Short answer: no.” (3)
“Okay, so why can Jack dance with her then?”
The Doctor smirked. “See, this is genius. The year is 1563. Get it?”
“No.”
“Ah, no, this isn’t normally taught in schools. Parliament want Elizabeth married. This whole event is filled with eligible bachelors, all of whom will try and dance with her. Can you just see the look on his face when he realises he’s having a go at courting the most powerful woman in the Western world?” The Doctor looked immensely proud of himself, and Rose just shook her head at the audacity of it all.
“And if he gets found out, and arrested, or something?”
“Oh, it won’t come to that,” the Doctor said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll get him out first. I just want to see how Elizabeth takes to him. Elizabeth’s a bit like her Dad – she liked having good looking blokes around.”
“That’d be why you’re hiding up here, yeah?” The Doctor quashed the impulse to stick his tongue out at her. Rose grinned. “You love me really.”
The Doctor didn’t respond.
--
Jack was never a man to feel out of his depth, even if he was about to ask the Queen of England for a dance. The way he saw, he had a better chance than those around him. Most of these men looked, frankly, old. They may have all been filthy rich, but Jack had a feeling that this Queen wasn’t so interested in the money. It was slightly strange that she wasn’t married, but from what Jack remembered of ancient Earth history, this one never did. Hence the name, he supposed.
Jack severely hoped it was a misnomer. Where would the fun lie then?
--
An awkward silence had descended, and Rose was sincerely glad to suddenly spot Jack’s head amongst the crowd of peacock-like men, all vying for Elizabeth’s attentions. “Look, Doctor! Jack’s made it after all!”
--
“Well, you should have heard of me,” Jack said in his best imitation of an affronted Englishman. “Earl of Harkness.”
“Never heard of Harkness,” the guard said suspiciously. “Never heard your accent before, neither. Think we’d best step outside, yeah?”
“That’s because I’ve recently returned to my lands after a long journey in… the new world?” Jack improvised desperately. “Lots of gold to be had there.”
“Ah.” The guard tapped his nose and tried to look cunning. Jack just tried not to wince at how painful it looked. “Any of this gold going to make its way to Shaun Ogg once this little party is over?”
Jack forced himself to smile disarmingly. “But of course.”
“Enjoy the party, sir,” Shaun Ogg said with a little smile and left Jack alone.
--
“Thought he’d had it for a minute there,” said a Doctor with a grin. “I love guards you can bribe. It takes out all the trouble of knocking them out, stealing their clothes and running around dressed up as them.”
Rose opened her mouth to ask a question before shutting it again. “Actually, I don’t want to know.” She took a moment to look around her surroundings. “It’s quite nice here, actually. Bit more peaceful than standing around down there.”
Elizabeth had been socialising for well over fifteen minutes now, and would get increasingly closer to Jack before being swirled away again. From up on the balcony it was rather like watching a clever game of football – Elizabeth, in the white, was moving from pillar to post without actually coming to a rest. Rose just hoped that Jack would score a goal. She wanted to see how he’d react to the news that Elizabeth was looking for a husband.
--
The band began to play before Jack could even say a word to Elizabeth. Without the use of some of his more reliable chat-up lines, it was time to go for the direct offensive. Out of politeness, he watched Elizabeth dance with her first Minister, Robert Cecil – who looked somewhat bemused at being in the limelight. He glanced up at the balcony and saw both Rose and the Doctor leaning over to watch his progress. He grinned humourlessly at them. It all seemed a little elaborate to him. He appreciated the gesture, sure – from what he’d seen Elizabeth was a fairly attractive lady and there was always something to be said for new experiences. The sixteenth century was certainly that. But no, it wasn’t like the Doctor to go to this trouble simply for his sake. That was Rose’s gift. There had to something else going on here…
He tapped a young nobleman politely on the shoulder, avoiding the large ruff the man was wearing, possibly to disguise his lack of chin. “Excuse me. This might sound a bit weird – sorry, strange,” Jack corrected himself, “but this seems somewhat different to other... um… court balls that I’ve been to. Is there something I’m missing?”
The man laughed slightly nervously. Close to, Jack could see the man was sweating nervously, with dark patches under the arms of his tunic and a glistening brow. “No… no. This one is a little… different.”
“Different how?”
The man leaned in confidentially. “The idea is for Elizabeth to pick a suitable Englishman to marry.”
Jack made a small choking noise, and the man looked concerned. “Are you quite well?” he asked.
“Tickle in the throat,” Jack said with some difficulty. “Thanks…”
The young nobleman moved off, and Jack looked at the dancing Queen with a little more trepidation. Well. That put a whole new spin on the thing.
The dance ended, and the Queen moved away from Cecil looking gracious. Knowing this was his moment, Jack moved smartly ahead of the crowd of men and held out his hand. “Your Majesty, would you care to dance?”
--
The Doctor looked suddenly cheered. “Rose, I think we have a victory here!” He rubbed his hands together. “Can’t wait to see what’ll happen when he twigs what’s going on…”
--
Completely aware that both the Doctor and Rose were watching this, Jack drew himself close to the Queen as she accepted his hand. Her hand was cool and delicate, although now he was closer Jack could see tiny scars across her face, most of which looked as though they were recent. She smiled disarmingly at him, and despite the scarring, Jack could see that she had once been an attractive woman, if now losing her beauty. As the dance began, Jack’s head grew close to Elizabeth.
“You really are desperate to take my throne, aren’t you?” Her voice was low, melodious and undoubtedly poisonous. The dance was complex, and Jack was concentrating on not falling over rather than the words themselves, so when they registered he drew back slightly to stare at the Queen.
“Your Highness, that’s the last thing on my mind.”
Her answer came a few short moments later. “Lying to the Queen is technically a treasonable offence.”
“So you won’t believe me when I tell you that I actually just wanted to dance with you? Well,” Jack smirked, “perhaps a little more than dance.”
“You insult my honour, sir.” She sounded amused rather than affronted, so Jack pressed.
“Your Highness, in the spirit of honesty, you understand, I have to ask – do you plan on marrying any of the men here?”
“Goodness, no.” The dance caused them to pull away from each other for a brief moment and Jack could se the envious glances he was receiving from the other men in the room. As they drew closer again, Elizabeth kept on talking. “It took me long enough to get here, and I will stay on this throne. All of these men are far too ambitious. Unlike you. You seem to be ambitious only to get into my bedchamber.”
“Well, if you’re going to put it bluntly.” Jack grinned. “In sharing of the truth, I’m only here because a… friend believes that I will woo you and suddenly find that you’re looking for a husband.”
“Except I’m not.”
“And I’m not looking for a wife. I’m glad that’s settled.”
--
“They’re getting on well,” Rose commented, leaning up on her tiptoes to see the scene better. Wordlessly, the Doctor picked her up around the waist.
“Any better?”
“Yeah, actually.” She twisted her head to face the Doctor, realising belatedly that they were now rather close. “Are they getting on a little too well, or is it just me?”
She turned back to face the dance floor, peering down at the press of people whirling around the floor. The Doctor leaned over her shoulder, his arms still pressed around her waist. Rose felt oddly comfortable, but wriggled anyway. “Doctor?” she protested weakly. “Can you put me down? I think I can wriggle enough to see.”
He let go of her waist noiselessly, leaving Rose to hit the ground with an undignified bump, nearly losing her balance. “Thanks,” she huffed.
“Don’t mention it,” the Doctor said, completely oblivious.
--
“Those two up there put me up to it. I wouldn’t mind shocking them – if you don’t mind.”
“Good sir, I am not allowing you to enter my bedchamber.”
“That’s a pity.” Elizabeth actually blushed, and Jack winked. “If you will permit…”
--
“Oh my GOD. What is he DOING?” Rose’s shriek came just as the music came to an end, and she earned herself more than a few disapproving looks. She ignored them. “Doctor, he is kissing Elizabeth! That’s not meant to happen! He’s just meant to try and pull her and be put off!”
The Doctor was looking at the scene with the eye of an academic. “For a start, he’d be thrown out of court for even trying. Kissing isn’t fashionable until the late 1800s! Honestly…” (4)
“Is that the only thing you can think of? What if he ends up marrying Elizabeth?”
“Won’t happen,” said the Doctor confidently. “She never wanted to be married. Said she was married to England.”
“Oh yeah?” Jack was pulling back from Elizabeth now, who was looking slightly startled. “She never met Jack before, did she?”
The Doctor went pale. “Oh, bugger.” He grabbed Rose’s hand. “We need to get down there. Come on!”
He pulled her out of the balcony and down the somewhat rickety stairs into the main hall, where there was a sizeable gap around Jack and the Queen. Rose felt her heart stop for a moment as she heard Jack say, very clearly, “Me? Marry you?” Time seemed to stand still. The next comment Rose heard in a washing wave of relief. “No, thank you. It’s a good offer, but I have to be off. Good luck with that!”
He kissed Elizabeth on the cheek and strode out of the hall confidently, the sea of people parting in a manner not unlike the Red Sea for Moses. “Time for a hasty exit, I think,” the Doctor muttered, and still holding onto Rose’s hand they left the hall.
~~
“… and the last thing I heard Rose say was ‘Doctor, what on earth just happened there?’ and they were gone. I tried to follow them out of the Great Hall, but they had mysteriously disappeared. The one man who ever had a chance to marry the Virgin Queen disappeared without a trace.”
The minstrel stops talking, and the king is on the edge of the seat. “That is the end of the tale?” Henry demands.
“Why, yes, my liege. There is nothing else that can be said. They were the strangest visitors ever to Elizabeth’s court.”
“Well.” The French king leans back into his chair with a half-smile on his face. “Minstrel, I am impressed. Personally, I believe you made up every word. An imagination that good deserves reward, however.” The king leans forward with a clasped hand. The minstrel hurries forward, one hand out, and something falls into the minstrel palms. It is rude to look at a gift in such a way, so the minstrel leaves the room, never turning his back to the king, and staying in a low bow. It is only when he reaches the corridor outside that he opens his palm to find a rather generous gold ring in his palm, that would reach perhaps a few guineas on English soil. It is a good reward, and he is not likely to get such generous reward again in the French court.
The minstrel closes his palm and smiles. The mysterious visitors to Elizabeth’s court may well make him rich yet. He walks down the corridor, deciding to embark on the first coach that will take him to Bohemia.
Rulers are so much less willing to believe the strangeness of truth.
**
(1)Pointless Historical Fact 1: Henry IV of France began to rule in 1590, at the latter end of Elizabeth’s reign and when old Shakey started to Make It Big. He more or less ended the wars of religion in France between the Catholics and Huguenots.
(2) Pointless Historical Fact 2: Okay, I may have made this up on wrong hearing, but black leather wasn’t actually invented until about the 1700s. I may have got my dates wrong, but it’s nice to see the Doctor confusing history, non?
(3) Pointless Historical Fact 3: My pre-Tudor history is a wee bit sketchy, but I can back that statement up. Name me a king and I’ll say Why They Were Nuts.
(4) Pointless Historical Fact 4: Kissing just wasn’t cool until then, you know.
Cross-posted to my LJ,new_who and time_and_chips
As a side note to my LJ readers, this is the first piece of fic I've written for ages that I've actually been completely and absolutely happy with. Comment and make my day.
loneraven for a fabulous beta and dwcanon_fodder for making sure I could have a throwaway reference to The Scarf. This is about 3000 words more than it was meant to be. Good fun.Title: Courting Gloriana
Author: Hathor -
hathy_colSummary: Written for Natalie -
kareswen. She wanted:-shippiness (of the Doc/Rose variety)
-um
-Medieval history - Tudors etc.
I hope I provided. Jack even says 'um' at one point.
Warnings: None.
Pairings: A little bit of Doctor/Rose, and a lot of Jack being indiscriminate.
Disclaimer: Alas, the BBC own Doctor Who. I’d quite like to, if they’re selling at any point soon. I’m not making any money from this venture, although again, I wouldn’t mind if anyone wants to send some to me. British pounds, please, they look prettier. If you want to know who Shaun Ogg is, read a Discworld novel.
The minstrel coughs nervously. He doesn’t like his life out here in France as an Englishman, but of course, he had no choice now that old fraud, Shakespeare, takes all the court’s time. He needs to feed himself, so the court of Henry IV of France(1) will have to do.
Feeding himself has been increasingly difficult, though. No one wants to hear his cold English poems or his bawdy tales, and Chaucer went out of fashion with the plague. No, France wants delicate imagery and beautiful ladies, neither of which the minstrel can provide. He had been thinking of moving onto a different European court – perhaps Bohemia? – when the French king himself had summoned him. Now the minstrel waits outside the king’s antechamber and finds himself terrified. Private audiences with Elizabeth never did that, he muses sadly.
The door opens and the minstrel jumps as a cardinal, resplendent in his red robes, leaves the room. He tenses, waiting for the traditional insult a man of the cloth throws at Englishmen, but it doesn’t arrive. Nevertheless, he is still tense when the king calls him in.
Protocol must be strictly observed, and the minstrel is careful to enter the room and fall into a deep bow precisely four paces from where the king sits. The French monarch is impeccably dressed, as one might expect from the leader of the most fashionable court in Europe. Henry waves a bejewelled hand indulgently and the minstrel hesitantly rises.
“Sing me a song,” he says abruptly. The minstrel has barely opened his mouth when the king interrupts him. “No…” His eyes light up. “Tell me of your precious Virginia.” He is cunning, this king, and would have to be to have seized the throne of a troubled and divided France. “You are an Englishman. You are all in love with her, non? Even if she has found another favourite. Tell me a faraway tale.”
The minstrel is left without words. “Your Highness,” he tries to say. “Surely your most majestic court will care little for the gossip of the English court?”
“The court may care little for English tittle-tattle, but I want to hear of your Queen. You will be well-paid.”
The minstrel needs to eat, and he knows it. The king evidently does too from the small grin he has on his lips. Performing for the king may well earn him a handsome sum, but the king’s approval would give him potential for performances in front of other nobles. The opportunity it too great to pass up. He racks his brains desperately for a suitable story from Elizabeth’s court…
“Allow me to entrance you, Majesty, with a most mysterious tale of a visitor, no, three visitors to the court of Elizabeth. One a beautiful maiden, with a most beguiling smile. Another, a man, with a most curious accent. The third, another man, dressed in a strange surcoat of black leather – yes, Majesty, black leather!(2) They said they were visitors from another place, far away, and they left almost as soon as they came. However,” the minstrel drops his voice confidentially, “I do not believe that Elizabeth will ever forget them! Your Majesty, this is the tale of a visitor known only as ‘The Doctor…’”
~~
“Doctor, they’re all staring.”
“You will go and pick a dress better suited for James rather than Elizabeth.”
“Eh?”
“Basically? You’re fifty years ahead of fashion.”
As Rose stared and the Doctor strode along triumphantly, Jack sniggered. “What happened to the TARDIS picking out the right clothes?” he asked, not unreasonably.
“She does!” defended the Doctor. “You went searching, didn’t you?”
Rose looked away. “Maybe. What’s so bad about that?”
“You don’t have the same fashion sense as an Elizabethan – thank god – but the TARDIS does. She’s tuned into most places and picks out a costume to blend in with.”
“Oh yeah? Explain the schoolgirl outfit, then.”
The Doctor shrugged. “It’s not like I wore it,” he said, completely unfazed. He paused. “I did think about it, but it never would have fitted, really.”
Rose stared. So did Jack.
“I was going to ask about the leather bikini, but I’m a bit afraid to now,” Jack whispered to Rose.
“So, Jack,” the Doctor declared, seemingly oblivious of the conversation going on around him, “what do you think of Elizabethan England? I normally ask Rose, but she’s too busy being eyed up by the Duke of Norfolk. Just don’t, Rose, he’s not worth it.”
“Oi!” Rose nudged the Doctor. “Leave it out.”
“Good. I’m not taking any more of your boyfriends home, and certainly not that one. Well, Captain Jack Harkness?”
“It’s… different,” Jack admitted. “I never bothered coming here. Didn’t really seem important, you know?”
The Doctor sniffed. “Shows how much you know. Always the same… you never concentrate on the people, always the events. Does Virginia mean anything to you? Lovely lady, went a bit strange towards the end. I thought you might like to meet her.”
Jack stared at the Doctor’s back as though he believed the Doctor had lost whatever sanity he had left. “You brought me here to meet a chick?”
The Doctor turned to face Jack and rolled his eyes. “Yes. I brought you here to meet a chick.”
~~
“Minstrel, I grow displeased,” the king says, a slight frown on his face. “What is the point of the story thus far?” The minstrel’s heart quails, but the inner showman forces him to smile and continue.
“My liege – if I may be so bold – I am only trying to show the very strangeness of the visitors. I was there, and I listened as they walked into that very room.”
“You eavesdropped? On a member of the court?”
The minstrel’s stomach drops by several notches and he wonders if he’s going to pass out. “My… majesty, they were talking terribly loudly, and it was impossible not to hear…”
The king is smiling. “For a minstrel, you do not seem to understand French humour. Little matter. Continue with your story
The minstrel decides it is a good idea to breathe again, and continues.
~~
“I learnt about this, in history,” Rose said, out of the blue. “Don’t the Spanish try to invade?” The Doctor couldn’t hide his brief flash of surprise, and Rose nudged him. “I did learn something before I became a shop girl, you know. History GCSE and everything.”
“Well, they’ve not gone to war with Spain yet. Welcome to 1563, everyone. Don’t insult the Queen, we’ve mentioned that you should avoid the Duke who’s staring at you right now –“ at this, a middle-aged man with a cunning face looked away swiftly – “and apart from that, have fun.”
Jack held out an arm to Rose, looking amused. “My lady?”
Rose giggled, and took the arm. “We’ll be back later,” she said between giggles, and allowed Jack to lead her through the throng of people. She gave the Doctor a small wave before devoting all of her attention to the path ahead of her. The Doctor sighed and leaned against the panelled wall, and tried to ignore the significant looks that Lady Catherine Grey was giving him. She was a fairly attractive lady, but really, he was only there to make sure that Jack danced with the Queen. Bloody revenge, that would be. What the Doctor hadn’t mentioned was that the Queen was having her arm quietly twisted to find a husband, and that this gathering was a proto-Blind Date. Elizabeth danced with the carefully selected list of candidates and it all went from there. Neither Jack or Rose had appeared to notice the opulent wealth almost dripping from the walls, but that was probably be expected, given that Jack knew next to nothing about Elizabethan culture and Rose had only seen the bits of history left to the twenty-first century. Sad, really. He briefly debated telling them more about their surroundings before giving up on the idea. It would simply ruin the surprise.
Good Queen Bess hadn’t deigned to make an appearance yet. The Doctor had, in fact, met her once, but he sincerely hoped she wouldn’t recognise him. There was no reason for her too, but she was a wily (if vain) old bird who needed more credit than was given to. It would certainly make an unusual conversation, as well as explaining just what had happened to that scarf.
Trumpets sounded, and the Doctor decided to ape the apes and look expectant. Elizabeth, it seemed, had finally chosen what to wear. He decided to go and find Jack and Rose after all, before they did something stupid and got themselves arrested for treason.
--
“So, are you really going to dance with the Queen?” Rose was fascinated by the concept. Jack grinned.
“If I can charm her and dazzle her with my moves, yeah.”
Rose mock-pouted. “What am I meant to do, then?” she asked pointedly. “I’m all dressed up and apparently I’m being abandoned for the Queen of England. Good replacement, I suppose,” she mused absently.
“Go and dance with the Doctor,” Jack teased, very gently. “He was doing more than criticising that dress, you know.”
“Shut up,” said Rose, very simply. She looked around the room again before turned to Jack. “Hang about. I thought Americans hated kings and that!”
“Americans from his time? No! Good King Randy from 2187 was one of the best kings in American history,” said the Doctor suddenly, leaning between the two, looking highly amused. Rose would have jumped, but she had grown used to him leaning in and interrupting conversations between her and… well, just about anyone. “They drafted him in after the whole political system got in a bit of a mess.”
Rose began to laugh. “Now you’re winding me up.”
“Oh, I wish I was,” said the Doctor with a sigh. Jack was looking perfectly straight-laced and the Doctor seemed convinced.
Rose’s laughter died and she went slightly red, reminded once again that there really was a lot to learn. “What are those trumpets for?”
“Queen Elizabeth’s arrived. I’d advise going up in a few minutes, Jack. How many other men can say that they danced with the Queen of England?” He paused. “Don’t answer that.”
“What’s my cover?”
The Doctor stared blankly. “You want cover? Make it up. Earl of blahdiblah, something about a romantic and dashing history. She’ll dance with you. She likes pretty-boys.”
Jack twirled. “Why, Doctor, I never knew you felt that way. I’m charmed.”
“So you should be. Off you pop, see you later then.” The Doctor gave Jack a cheery wave. “We’ll be watching you from the balcony.”
And with that, Jack was alone on the floor, watching with other expectant-looking men as the Queen of England and Ireland, Governor of the Anglican Church and Rightful Queen of France descended the stairs.
~~
If the minstrel has a weak point in storytelling, it is his insistence on including all the details he possibly can. By including this last little nugget, he realises he may have just signed his death warrant. He stumbles over the words and is relieved to hear the king laugh.
“Oh, that claim amuses me. You all believe you still have a chance!” he says, now with a smile. “Your slip is forgiven. You may continue.”
~~
“Doctor, if Jack gets to dance with Queen Elizabeth, do does this mean I get to dance with the king of England at some point soon?” Rose asked innocently as they ascended the stairs to the balcony to watch what looked like the beginnings of an elaborate dance. She couldn’t see Jack yet, although she could see Elizabeth. She was more or less impossible to miss, after all – a dress that went out much more than she did and a distinctive crop of red hair.
“Rose, you’re not going dancing with an English king.”
“Why not?”
“Number one: you’d probably end up taking one of them back to the TARDIS, given your past record. Number two: the vast majority are inbred, insane, old or just a bit weird. In some cases, they’re all three. Number three: droit de seigneur. You’re pretty, and most kings would take advantage of that.”
Rose stared. “Say all that again. In English, please.”
“Short answer: no.” (3)
“Okay, so why can Jack dance with her then?”
The Doctor smirked. “See, this is genius. The year is 1563. Get it?”
“No.”
“Ah, no, this isn’t normally taught in schools. Parliament want Elizabeth married. This whole event is filled with eligible bachelors, all of whom will try and dance with her. Can you just see the look on his face when he realises he’s having a go at courting the most powerful woman in the Western world?” The Doctor looked immensely proud of himself, and Rose just shook her head at the audacity of it all.
“And if he gets found out, and arrested, or something?”
“Oh, it won’t come to that,” the Doctor said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll get him out first. I just want to see how Elizabeth takes to him. Elizabeth’s a bit like her Dad – she liked having good looking blokes around.”
“That’d be why you’re hiding up here, yeah?” The Doctor quashed the impulse to stick his tongue out at her. Rose grinned. “You love me really.”
The Doctor didn’t respond.
--
Jack was never a man to feel out of his depth, even if he was about to ask the Queen of England for a dance. The way he saw, he had a better chance than those around him. Most of these men looked, frankly, old. They may have all been filthy rich, but Jack had a feeling that this Queen wasn’t so interested in the money. It was slightly strange that she wasn’t married, but from what Jack remembered of ancient Earth history, this one never did. Hence the name, he supposed.
Jack severely hoped it was a misnomer. Where would the fun lie then?
--
An awkward silence had descended, and Rose was sincerely glad to suddenly spot Jack’s head amongst the crowd of peacock-like men, all vying for Elizabeth’s attentions. “Look, Doctor! Jack’s made it after all!”
--
“Well, you should have heard of me,” Jack said in his best imitation of an affronted Englishman. “Earl of Harkness.”
“Never heard of Harkness,” the guard said suspiciously. “Never heard your accent before, neither. Think we’d best step outside, yeah?”
“That’s because I’ve recently returned to my lands after a long journey in… the new world?” Jack improvised desperately. “Lots of gold to be had there.”
“Ah.” The guard tapped his nose and tried to look cunning. Jack just tried not to wince at how painful it looked. “Any of this gold going to make its way to Shaun Ogg once this little party is over?”
Jack forced himself to smile disarmingly. “But of course.”
“Enjoy the party, sir,” Shaun Ogg said with a little smile and left Jack alone.
--
“Thought he’d had it for a minute there,” said a Doctor with a grin. “I love guards you can bribe. It takes out all the trouble of knocking them out, stealing their clothes and running around dressed up as them.”
Rose opened her mouth to ask a question before shutting it again. “Actually, I don’t want to know.” She took a moment to look around her surroundings. “It’s quite nice here, actually. Bit more peaceful than standing around down there.”
Elizabeth had been socialising for well over fifteen minutes now, and would get increasingly closer to Jack before being swirled away again. From up on the balcony it was rather like watching a clever game of football – Elizabeth, in the white, was moving from pillar to post without actually coming to a rest. Rose just hoped that Jack would score a goal. She wanted to see how he’d react to the news that Elizabeth was looking for a husband.
--
The band began to play before Jack could even say a word to Elizabeth. Without the use of some of his more reliable chat-up lines, it was time to go for the direct offensive. Out of politeness, he watched Elizabeth dance with her first Minister, Robert Cecil – who looked somewhat bemused at being in the limelight. He glanced up at the balcony and saw both Rose and the Doctor leaning over to watch his progress. He grinned humourlessly at them. It all seemed a little elaborate to him. He appreciated the gesture, sure – from what he’d seen Elizabeth was a fairly attractive lady and there was always something to be said for new experiences. The sixteenth century was certainly that. But no, it wasn’t like the Doctor to go to this trouble simply for his sake. That was Rose’s gift. There had to something else going on here…
He tapped a young nobleman politely on the shoulder, avoiding the large ruff the man was wearing, possibly to disguise his lack of chin. “Excuse me. This might sound a bit weird – sorry, strange,” Jack corrected himself, “but this seems somewhat different to other... um… court balls that I’ve been to. Is there something I’m missing?”
The man laughed slightly nervously. Close to, Jack could see the man was sweating nervously, with dark patches under the arms of his tunic and a glistening brow. “No… no. This one is a little… different.”
“Different how?”
The man leaned in confidentially. “The idea is for Elizabeth to pick a suitable Englishman to marry.”
Jack made a small choking noise, and the man looked concerned. “Are you quite well?” he asked.
“Tickle in the throat,” Jack said with some difficulty. “Thanks…”
The young nobleman moved off, and Jack looked at the dancing Queen with a little more trepidation. Well. That put a whole new spin on the thing.
The dance ended, and the Queen moved away from Cecil looking gracious. Knowing this was his moment, Jack moved smartly ahead of the crowd of men and held out his hand. “Your Majesty, would you care to dance?”
--
The Doctor looked suddenly cheered. “Rose, I think we have a victory here!” He rubbed his hands together. “Can’t wait to see what’ll happen when he twigs what’s going on…”
--
Completely aware that both the Doctor and Rose were watching this, Jack drew himself close to the Queen as she accepted his hand. Her hand was cool and delicate, although now he was closer Jack could see tiny scars across her face, most of which looked as though they were recent. She smiled disarmingly at him, and despite the scarring, Jack could see that she had once been an attractive woman, if now losing her beauty. As the dance began, Jack’s head grew close to Elizabeth.
“You really are desperate to take my throne, aren’t you?” Her voice was low, melodious and undoubtedly poisonous. The dance was complex, and Jack was concentrating on not falling over rather than the words themselves, so when they registered he drew back slightly to stare at the Queen.
“Your Highness, that’s the last thing on my mind.”
Her answer came a few short moments later. “Lying to the Queen is technically a treasonable offence.”
“So you won’t believe me when I tell you that I actually just wanted to dance with you? Well,” Jack smirked, “perhaps a little more than dance.”
“You insult my honour, sir.” She sounded amused rather than affronted, so Jack pressed.
“Your Highness, in the spirit of honesty, you understand, I have to ask – do you plan on marrying any of the men here?”
“Goodness, no.” The dance caused them to pull away from each other for a brief moment and Jack could se the envious glances he was receiving from the other men in the room. As they drew closer again, Elizabeth kept on talking. “It took me long enough to get here, and I will stay on this throne. All of these men are far too ambitious. Unlike you. You seem to be ambitious only to get into my bedchamber.”
“Well, if you’re going to put it bluntly.” Jack grinned. “In sharing of the truth, I’m only here because a… friend believes that I will woo you and suddenly find that you’re looking for a husband.”
“Except I’m not.”
“And I’m not looking for a wife. I’m glad that’s settled.”
--
“They’re getting on well,” Rose commented, leaning up on her tiptoes to see the scene better. Wordlessly, the Doctor picked her up around the waist.
“Any better?”
“Yeah, actually.” She twisted her head to face the Doctor, realising belatedly that they were now rather close. “Are they getting on a little too well, or is it just me?”
She turned back to face the dance floor, peering down at the press of people whirling around the floor. The Doctor leaned over her shoulder, his arms still pressed around her waist. Rose felt oddly comfortable, but wriggled anyway. “Doctor?” she protested weakly. “Can you put me down? I think I can wriggle enough to see.”
He let go of her waist noiselessly, leaving Rose to hit the ground with an undignified bump, nearly losing her balance. “Thanks,” she huffed.
“Don’t mention it,” the Doctor said, completely oblivious.
--
“Those two up there put me up to it. I wouldn’t mind shocking them – if you don’t mind.”
“Good sir, I am not allowing you to enter my bedchamber.”
“That’s a pity.” Elizabeth actually blushed, and Jack winked. “If you will permit…”
--
“Oh my GOD. What is he DOING?” Rose’s shriek came just as the music came to an end, and she earned herself more than a few disapproving looks. She ignored them. “Doctor, he is kissing Elizabeth! That’s not meant to happen! He’s just meant to try and pull her and be put off!”
The Doctor was looking at the scene with the eye of an academic. “For a start, he’d be thrown out of court for even trying. Kissing isn’t fashionable until the late 1800s! Honestly…” (4)
“Is that the only thing you can think of? What if he ends up marrying Elizabeth?”
“Won’t happen,” said the Doctor confidently. “She never wanted to be married. Said she was married to England.”
“Oh yeah?” Jack was pulling back from Elizabeth now, who was looking slightly startled. “She never met Jack before, did she?”
The Doctor went pale. “Oh, bugger.” He grabbed Rose’s hand. “We need to get down there. Come on!”
He pulled her out of the balcony and down the somewhat rickety stairs into the main hall, where there was a sizeable gap around Jack and the Queen. Rose felt her heart stop for a moment as she heard Jack say, very clearly, “Me? Marry you?” Time seemed to stand still. The next comment Rose heard in a washing wave of relief. “No, thank you. It’s a good offer, but I have to be off. Good luck with that!”
He kissed Elizabeth on the cheek and strode out of the hall confidently, the sea of people parting in a manner not unlike the Red Sea for Moses. “Time for a hasty exit, I think,” the Doctor muttered, and still holding onto Rose’s hand they left the hall.
~~
“… and the last thing I heard Rose say was ‘Doctor, what on earth just happened there?’ and they were gone. I tried to follow them out of the Great Hall, but they had mysteriously disappeared. The one man who ever had a chance to marry the Virgin Queen disappeared without a trace.”
The minstrel stops talking, and the king is on the edge of the seat. “That is the end of the tale?” Henry demands.
“Why, yes, my liege. There is nothing else that can be said. They were the strangest visitors ever to Elizabeth’s court.”
“Well.” The French king leans back into his chair with a half-smile on his face. “Minstrel, I am impressed. Personally, I believe you made up every word. An imagination that good deserves reward, however.” The king leans forward with a clasped hand. The minstrel hurries forward, one hand out, and something falls into the minstrel palms. It is rude to look at a gift in such a way, so the minstrel leaves the room, never turning his back to the king, and staying in a low bow. It is only when he reaches the corridor outside that he opens his palm to find a rather generous gold ring in his palm, that would reach perhaps a few guineas on English soil. It is a good reward, and he is not likely to get such generous reward again in the French court.
The minstrel closes his palm and smiles. The mysterious visitors to Elizabeth’s court may well make him rich yet. He walks down the corridor, deciding to embark on the first coach that will take him to Bohemia.
Rulers are so much less willing to believe the strangeness of truth.
**
(1)Pointless Historical Fact 1: Henry IV of France began to rule in 1590, at the latter end of Elizabeth’s reign and when old Shakey started to Make It Big. He more or less ended the wars of religion in France between the Catholics and Huguenots.
(2) Pointless Historical Fact 2: Okay, I may have made this up on wrong hearing, but black leather wasn’t actually invented until about the 1700s. I may have got my dates wrong, but it’s nice to see the Doctor confusing history, non?
(3) Pointless Historical Fact 3: My pre-Tudor history is a wee bit sketchy, but I can back that statement up. Name me a king and I’ll say Why They Were Nuts.
(4) Pointless Historical Fact 4: Kissing just wasn’t cool until then, you know.
Cross-posted to my LJ,
new_who and time_and_chipsAs a side note to my LJ readers, this is the first piece of fic I've written for ages that I've actually been completely and absolutely happy with. Comment and make my day.
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Date: 2005-06-06 09:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 09:09 pm (UTC)*blows horn* congrats!!!
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Date: 2005-06-07 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-07 08:03 pm (UTC)(and remember, several of my friends only passed on their fourth attempt)
xx
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Date: 2005-06-07 11:56 pm (UTC)Harry potter iron-on patches that look pretty cool.
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Date: 2005-06-08 03:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-08 03:53 pm (UTC)(Also, I love your icon more than I should.)
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Date: 2005-06-08 03:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-08 03:56 pm (UTC)And so you should be. That was fantastic. So much fun, fantastic banter, a lovely pace, a real richness of setting, sly references to Elizabeth and Terry Pratchett, Proper History (yay!), and Elizabeth was marvellous. And Jack! :D
*sigh*
Yup, I loved it lots.
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Date: 2005-06-08 03:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-08 03:59 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment, means a lot to me.
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Date: 2005-06-08 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-08 08:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-09 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-09 07:26 pm (UTC)(By the way, iconlove)
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Date: 2005-06-09 07:27 pm (UTC)And yay for Shaun Ogg. He does not get enough love.
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Date: 2006-04-01 07:58 pm (UTC)