FIC: Glance of Love (7/11) - A Much Ado About Nothing fanfic
Title: Glance of Love
Genre: Much Ado About Nothing (2011 performance)
Rating: T (with two chapters rated M - one for paranoia, the other with... more cause)
Pairings: Bendick/Beatrice, Claudio/Hero
Summary: One chance look shared on the night before the ill-fated wedding day drew a pair of dueling lovers together... a bit earlier. Thus altering the lives of those around them as well.
Dedication: To Shakespeare for writing the play. To the people who arranged to put on the amazing performance, to Digital Theatre for putting out a download, and - most of all - David Tennant and Catherine Tate for the silent exchange that inspired this fic - as shown here (and all pics within - unless otherwise noted - came from the same source):
http://eternity-online.net/screencaps/maan/images/maan155.jpg
Disclaimer: I didn't have the money to see this in person. So I own nothing except this idea. :( And a copy of the Digital Theatre download. :D
Author's Note: Title is a play on the song that was playing as this moment happened. My muse is a definite minx for coming up with this... and a few other MAAN-based ideas. :D
This would probably make more sense if you've seen that MAAN production, but I wrote it with the aim of trying to make things clear to any reader. Still, I know my peeps who had the great fortune to get tickets and see the play - or fans like me who had to wait for the Digital Theatre download - will get every last reference I make to the performance itself. I suppose this is also for the fans who either can't afford to get the download and the ones whose computers can't make it work - every Doctor/Donna fan should get to see this play.
Readers, this is the result of being an unrepentant Doctor/Donna fangirl, adoring the dynamic Tennant and Tate have in anything they do, and having an imagination that went into overactive squeegasm madness over several moments I refer to. :D Heck, spoiler footage of The Kiss powered me to reach NaNo winner status in under fifteen days. That and an Internet blackout at my house that prevented me from watching it over and over again. :D
Happy Birthday, sykira! I revised this slightly after your comments from an earlier chapter. Hope you like this chapter. :D
Sigh No More, Ladies / Seals of Love / Light of Love / We Go Together / Come Away Death / Sonnet Rap
Author's Note: Another chapter title that doesn't quite fit. It might've fit the previous chapter, but “Sonnet Rap” would never have gone with this one. So... this is what it is.
Chapter 7: The Rain It Rainth Everyday
Beatrice's headache was considerable, although not as bad as the sneezing fits she found herself having if she even thought of a certain man's name - let alone heard it spoken. And it seemed that her cousin's fool of a waiting gentlewoman was taking far too much pleasure in teasing her about him.
She was not about to admit that her headache and sick feelings were from a lack of sleep, and not from the alcohol. No, it was all from the dreams that left her breathless and filled with... sensations that were previously unknown to her body. O she had been present for her aunt's talk with Hero about the marriage bed the day before, as her aunt insisted. She had mocked some of the words her aunt used as far too subservient to men, but her imagination had filled in the gaps - vividly. Especially in her dreams, which were all of Benedick and what could be their marriage bed.
She was grateful she looked unwell. Her flush she could attribute to sickness, not to the burning inside her body she felt ever since Benedick kissed her and they came within a hair's width of disregarding propriety. In public!
And her biggest shock? That she actually dreamed of letting him take liberties with her, or even them finding somewhere private to continue that moment. Where was her shame? What had love done to her?
More importantly, how had the women in her uncle's household figured out her feelings for Benedick? Why else would Margaret be on her about looking on him like 'other women do'?!
She was glad that the fool had no idea that her assumptions were both accurate and not. Although Hero had hardly defended her, which she should have expected after yesterday.
Only when Ursula had interrupted to fetch Hero did Beatrice find a reprieve. Not that it was much of one - she had to hurriedly be ready. Even though all she had to do was be there, she could not go in her typical type of attire. Today she had to make an effort to deliberately look nice - to do otherwise would be an insult to her cousin.
She had chosen to dress herself, wanting the quiet to reflect. Although she had been unable to avoid needing Maria's help in coiffing her hair - her hands were too unsteady. Then she sent the gentlewoman off, wanting one moment to herself before she had to join her family.
Her reflection greeted her in the mirror. The blue of her dress was a rather lovely color against her skin, and set off her eyes and hair. The neckline might be a bit much, but it was too late now. Hard to hide that she was an... endowed woman in any case. Her natural waves came out in the high ponytail that Maria had created to keep her hair in an orderly yet attractive fashion. And now there was no trace of her night before, having prepared her face.
But her eyes were heavy, and her lips could not find a smile. How had she come to this? She was now one of those women who could not stop thinking of a particular man.
Beatrice sighed heavily. Was this the weight of newly revealed love, when a woman was overwhelmed by her own feelings? Would this go away with a little bit of time to adjust to her new reality?
Or... was this the weight of practically refusing Benedick? Had she let fear rule her again? Was it possible that she had asked too much of him; that it would take him so long to produce proof, which would calm her mind and fears that she would eventually lose him to frustration? Should she have let herself stay in his arms and not made that challenge?
She wrung her hands, fighting back tears and her sniffles. Oh, she could curse a number of people and things right now! Beginning with the least important things. She hated having to dress so well, and to wear heels! Why did people wonder why she wore sandals and flats all the time? A lady could do anything in them, and not have to worry about falling over. And the fashions! She disliked the awful items her cousin and aunt often wore, signaling their wealth and attention to detail.
Beatrice's garments were made for comfort and to last. She chose them because they were not flattering to her form. It kept most men away, and those who weren't she handled with mocking.
Now she felt the weight of her overreaction back all those years ago keenly. She could have been attending this wedding as the mother of a few children, and from her own house. Her eyes watered over the loss caused by her own learned distrust. Oh why had not she been able to merely rebuke him for assuming?! Had she been able to just tell him to think of her and ask her first, and then seen proof of his listening, why...
She grabbed tissues to dab her eyes gently. Oh God she would need to reapply her face if this kept up! A quick glance in the mirror, and she sighed in relief. Okay, not bad. She could fix this.
And she had to. The clock told her she had to hurry. Her uncle would start on time, and she would do her cousin the wrong of being rude and showing up late.
And so she was rushing to the church as best she could. Oh she not would wed in heels, should she be lucky and Benedick found a way to prove himself!
Although if he looked upon her with a pleading gaze again, she might present some simpler challenge for him. One he could quickly meet. Oh she had never hated being her more than she did that moment!
Chapter 8: Who Is Hero?