Prompt #14
Title: Wise Enough To Play the Fool
Author: MrsTater
Format/Word Count: Ficlet, 1103
Rating: G
Prompt: #14, "He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath." (King Lear, III, iv, 19-21)
Summary: "The Fool's my favourite."
Author's Note: I love King Lear. Title comes from Twelfth Night, III, i, 60. Concrit always appreciated. Revised, thanks to a wonderful suggestion from Gilpin.
Wise Enough To Play the Fool
"It'll be fun, Tonks."
Remus turned from the window, beyond which rain poured down in sheets on the dreary houses of Grimmauld Place, and regarded Tonks. She lounged on the antique settee, legs draped over one of the arms in a careless manner that surely would have sent the former mistress of the house into conniptions.
"Fun?" Tonks asked, arching a brow.
"Yes, fun." Shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets, Remus approached her. "You know, that thing where you enjoy yourself and laugh a lot? Despite what Sirius says, I do know how to have it."
"At the moment I agree with Sirius," Tonks replied.
Remus picked up a throw pillow Tonks had shucked onto the floor and lightly hit her head with it. Dust billowed out.
Ignoring her mock glower, he said, "If you are going to complain about being bored, then do not insult my ideas for entertainment."
"It's not the idea. Reading aloud could be very fun." Tonks said cast a wary eye at the two bookshelves flanking the fireplace. "I just can't imagine there being anything entertaining to read in the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black."
"I've got loads of entertaining books up in my room," said Remus. "Do you fancy Shakespeare?"
Tonks sat bolt upright. "You've got Shakespeare?"
"Accio Complete Works of Shakespeare," said Remus with a wave of us wand, feeling an unexpected swell of pride to actually have access to something that produced such genuine interest and excitement from Tonks.
A moment later, he and Tonks sat close together on the settee thumbing through the massive leather-bound tome spread across their laps.
"This one!" Tonks cried, enthusiastically tapping a page with her index finger.
Now Remus was the one quirking an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to do something fun," he said. "King Lear is not the sort of play that evokes enjoyment and laughter."
"It's a wonderful play," said Tonks defensively, brow furrowing. "Haven't you read it?"
"More than once. I do not dispute its quality." Remus carefully seated himself beside her, draping an arm over the back of the settee. "Wonderful and fun are not the same."
"Well, not usually," Tonks conceded. Her eyes glittered as she shifted to fit into the crook of his arm. "But you've never read King Lear with me, have you?"
As it turned out, passing a stormy Sunday afternoon reading King Lear aloud with Tonks was quite enjoyable and, Remus had to admit, fun. Tonks claimed it would be more fun if Remus would cooperate and read the female roles.
"Y'know," she explained, "to make it as Shakespeareanly authentic as possible."
"Shakespeareanly is not a word."
"Fine. Shakespeareanesque."
Thankfully, she relented on the condition that she would read the part of the Fool.
"He's my favourite," Tonks said. "People don't take him seriously because of his clothes and the way he capers about." A wide grin split across her face. "But really he's the voice of wisdom."
Tonks, not surprisingly, was a natural-born actress, aided by her ability to metamorphose for each character she played. She could not affect masculine features - thank Merlin - but she did produce a black moustache with curled ends for her portrayal of the dastardly Edmund. For the Fool, however, Tonks kept her own heart-shaped face and dark eyes. She transfigured one of the fusty satin bolsters into a parti-coloured, belled jester's hat. She looked cuter wearing it, eyes glowing impishly between the long tails, than anybody had a right to look in such garb.
As Tonks brought the Fool to life, Remus found himself drawn to the character as he never had been on any prior reading of the play. He became frustrated when Lear - whom he played - did not heed the Fool's sage advice.
"He's mad," read Tonks with gusto, hat tinkling, "that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath."
At the word "wolf," Remus' gaze dropped from Tonks to the page, where the lines she had just read seemed to glow. He read and re-read them, pulse quickening as he considered their meaning and which character spoke them and what a terrible idea it had been to read this play.
"King Lear?" Tonks said in a stage whisper, nudging him with her elbow. "King Lear, it's your line."
"Oh…" Shaking himself, Remus read, "It…" His voice was hoarse, so he cleared his throat. "It shall be done, I will…" His gaze flicked up to the previous line.
"Merlin, Remus! You're hung up on that wolf bit, aren't you?"
Remus said nothing, but he startled when Tonks' fingers brushed his thigh as she slid her hands under the book and slammed the covers together.
"You were right," she said tightly. "King Lear's not a fun play."
"Tonks-"
"You completely missed the point." She pulled away from him and curled up at the opposite of the settee, clutching the unwieldy volume to her chest.
"I did not miss the point."
"What's the theme?"
"The failure of perception. Lear cannot see his daughters' true nature, and-"
"-and yet you're so unable to perceive yours that you applied a line about a bloody wolf to yourself!" She slammed The Complete Works of Shakespeare on the coffee table.
"The Fool says it, Tonks. The voice of wisdom." Over her sound of protest, Remus continued deliberately, "I know better than anyone how untrustworthy wolves are. One lurks inside me. That is my life-"
"I don't want to hear this." Tonks stumbled off the settee with a jangle of bells and blundered to the drawing room door. "I'm going home."
Remus stood, but did not follow. "Tonks, don't-"
"You don't."
She had been moving at a clip, but halfway out she froze suddenly, one hand gripping the doorframe. When she turned back to Remus, the flush of anger had drained from her face, though her intensity seemed to have increased. Her dark eyes were larger and held a graver look than they ever had before.
"What happens to Lear, Remus?"
Remus swallowed hard and said hoarsely. "He dies."
"Before that, he wanders on the heath, completely mad. When he finally realises Cordelia is right and loves him…it's too late."
Her eyes held him for a long moment, then finally she shook her head. The bells tinkled, and she glanced up and realised she was still wearing the jester's hat. She plucked it off her head and tossed it to Remus.
"Listen to the Fool."
Remus transfigured the hat back into a bolster and returned to the window to watch the rain hammer down on Grimmauld Place.
Author: MrsTater
Format/Word Count: Ficlet, 1103
Rating: G
Prompt: #14, "He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath." (King Lear, III, iv, 19-21)
Summary: "The Fool's my favourite."
Author's Note: I love King Lear. Title comes from Twelfth Night, III, i, 60. Concrit always appreciated. Revised, thanks to a wonderful suggestion from Gilpin.
Wise Enough To Play the Fool
"It'll be fun, Tonks."
Remus turned from the window, beyond which rain poured down in sheets on the dreary houses of Grimmauld Place, and regarded Tonks. She lounged on the antique settee, legs draped over one of the arms in a careless manner that surely would have sent the former mistress of the house into conniptions.
"Fun?" Tonks asked, arching a brow.
"Yes, fun." Shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets, Remus approached her. "You know, that thing where you enjoy yourself and laugh a lot? Despite what Sirius says, I do know how to have it."
"At the moment I agree with Sirius," Tonks replied.
Remus picked up a throw pillow Tonks had shucked onto the floor and lightly hit her head with it. Dust billowed out.
Ignoring her mock glower, he said, "If you are going to complain about being bored, then do not insult my ideas for entertainment."
"It's not the idea. Reading aloud could be very fun." Tonks said cast a wary eye at the two bookshelves flanking the fireplace. "I just can't imagine there being anything entertaining to read in the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black."
"I've got loads of entertaining books up in my room," said Remus. "Do you fancy Shakespeare?"
Tonks sat bolt upright. "You've got Shakespeare?"
"Accio Complete Works of Shakespeare," said Remus with a wave of us wand, feeling an unexpected swell of pride to actually have access to something that produced such genuine interest and excitement from Tonks.
A moment later, he and Tonks sat close together on the settee thumbing through the massive leather-bound tome spread across their laps.
"This one!" Tonks cried, enthusiastically tapping a page with her index finger.
Now Remus was the one quirking an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to do something fun," he said. "King Lear is not the sort of play that evokes enjoyment and laughter."
"It's a wonderful play," said Tonks defensively, brow furrowing. "Haven't you read it?"
"More than once. I do not dispute its quality." Remus carefully seated himself beside her, draping an arm over the back of the settee. "Wonderful and fun are not the same."
"Well, not usually," Tonks conceded. Her eyes glittered as she shifted to fit into the crook of his arm. "But you've never read King Lear with me, have you?"
As it turned out, passing a stormy Sunday afternoon reading King Lear aloud with Tonks was quite enjoyable and, Remus had to admit, fun. Tonks claimed it would be more fun if Remus would cooperate and read the female roles.
"Y'know," she explained, "to make it as Shakespeareanly authentic as possible."
"Shakespeareanly is not a word."
"Fine. Shakespeareanesque."
Thankfully, she relented on the condition that she would read the part of the Fool.
"He's my favourite," Tonks said. "People don't take him seriously because of his clothes and the way he capers about." A wide grin split across her face. "But really he's the voice of wisdom."
Tonks, not surprisingly, was a natural-born actress, aided by her ability to metamorphose for each character she played. She could not affect masculine features - thank Merlin - but she did produce a black moustache with curled ends for her portrayal of the dastardly Edmund. For the Fool, however, Tonks kept her own heart-shaped face and dark eyes. She transfigured one of the fusty satin bolsters into a parti-coloured, belled jester's hat. She looked cuter wearing it, eyes glowing impishly between the long tails, than anybody had a right to look in such garb.
As Tonks brought the Fool to life, Remus found himself drawn to the character as he never had been on any prior reading of the play. He became frustrated when Lear - whom he played - did not heed the Fool's sage advice.
"He's mad," read Tonks with gusto, hat tinkling, "that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath."
At the word "wolf," Remus' gaze dropped from Tonks to the page, where the lines she had just read seemed to glow. He read and re-read them, pulse quickening as he considered their meaning and which character spoke them and what a terrible idea it had been to read this play.
"King Lear?" Tonks said in a stage whisper, nudging him with her elbow. "King Lear, it's your line."
"Oh…" Shaking himself, Remus read, "It…" His voice was hoarse, so he cleared his throat. "It shall be done, I will…" His gaze flicked up to the previous line.
"Merlin, Remus! You're hung up on that wolf bit, aren't you?"
Remus said nothing, but he startled when Tonks' fingers brushed his thigh as she slid her hands under the book and slammed the covers together.
"You were right," she said tightly. "King Lear's not a fun play."
"Tonks-"
"You completely missed the point." She pulled away from him and curled up at the opposite of the settee, clutching the unwieldy volume to her chest.
"I did not miss the point."
"What's the theme?"
"The failure of perception. Lear cannot see his daughters' true nature, and-"
"-and yet you're so unable to perceive yours that you applied a line about a bloody wolf to yourself!" She slammed The Complete Works of Shakespeare on the coffee table.
"The Fool says it, Tonks. The voice of wisdom." Over her sound of protest, Remus continued deliberately, "I know better than anyone how untrustworthy wolves are. One lurks inside me. That is my life-"
"I don't want to hear this." Tonks stumbled off the settee with a jangle of bells and blundered to the drawing room door. "I'm going home."
Remus stood, but did not follow. "Tonks, don't-"
"You don't."
She had been moving at a clip, but halfway out she froze suddenly, one hand gripping the doorframe. When she turned back to Remus, the flush of anger had drained from her face, though her intensity seemed to have increased. Her dark eyes were larger and held a graver look than they ever had before.
"What happens to Lear, Remus?"
Remus swallowed hard and said hoarsely. "He dies."
"Before that, he wanders on the heath, completely mad. When he finally realises Cordelia is right and loves him…it's too late."
Her eyes held him for a long moment, then finally she shook her head. The bells tinkled, and she glanced up and realised she was still wearing the jester's hat. She plucked it off her head and tossed it to Remus.
"Listen to the Fool."
Remus transfigured the hat back into a bolster and returned to the window to watch the rain hammer down on Grimmauld Place.