The Silver Platter

[LadyRiona]

Disclaimer: There is a historical figure in this fic that I do not claim to own. He will be explained later.
Author's Note: Well, as I just said, there's a historical figure featured in here from time to time, and I have done my fair share of research about him. Howe'er, he is simply a cameo character so I am not too worried about him. Also, concerning the historical speech, using "thee, thy, thou, etc" was actually an informal way of speaking, so it was used among friends and equals. Using "you and your" was formal. So please enjoy this piece. (:
Summary: Jennifer Sidnei, a modern day novelist, needs to write a novel. What better inspiration than a man straight from the pages of history?
Rating: T

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The Silver Platter
by: LadyRiona

Chapter 1

July, 1586
England

Lightning crashed into the ground, bringing with it a deafening rumble of thunder. The worst of the storm wasn’t too far away now, maybe a few bowshots at the most. Everyone was nervous, restlessly moving about the household. There hadn’t been a storm this violent in years, exceeding the memory of most of the vassals present.

A few moments passed before another bolt of lightning struck; it was much closer now, judging by the sound it made. A small child a room or two down screamed in fright then broke into constant sobs. A collective sigh filled the room from its few inhabitants.

“How much longer wouldst thou say this shall last?” a woman facing the fire asked, her voice soft.

The reply was hesitant, words heavy. “There is no such way to tell. Oh, but how I wish the astronomer had not left us. Mayhap he could have been of some assistance concerning this.” This came from a young man, sitting behind the woman.

A third spoke. “The astronomer is naught but a soothsayer, and an ill one at that,” he said, sounding slightly bitter.

“Nay, not. He is well-learned; the man who taught him was the astronomer when my grandfather was at court,” the first man said.

The second man rolled his eyes, leaning his head back to look at the dark stone ceiling. “The astronomer when thine grandfather was at court was a brilliant man. Howe’er, he did not do such a fine job at instructing this young, green scholar. Thrice now he has misinterpreted—”

“Wouldst thou both cease?” the woman said harshly. “There is no use arguing over the skill of a man who is not present and shall not be for some time. Besides, not either of thee didst meet him.”

This time, both men rolled their eyes. “Sister,” said the second man, “dearest Adalia, thou wouldst be wise to curb thy tongue, for in the company of other men the annotations thou dost speak would not be welcome.”

Adalia merely sighed, turning her gaze back to the fire.

“Rowan,” the first man spoke after a few moments, “thinkest thou it was wise of us to stay behind from the Queen’s court?”

The man called Rowan shrugged. “Mayhap not. There is naught to do concerning it now but wait for this blasted storm to pass.” A sigh passed through his lips. “Why didst thou wish to stay here, Philip?”

Philip took his turn to move his shoulders slightly. “Thou seemed’st to wish to remain at thy father’s home for a longer time than Her Grace. In light of thy father’s failing health, I thought thou wouldst want to linger.”

Rowan sighed and said nothing for a few moments’ time. As he took the time to find words to say, an extremely bright flash of lightning could be seen from outside. Hardly a second after, the thunder followed most loudly. Adalia squeaked in surprise and both men gave a startled jump. Philip shook his head at the vociferousness of the storm. Rowan sighed again.

Another minute passed before the large wooden door flew open and a young man, likely no older than sixteen, burst into the room. He was dripping with rain as he stood in the doorway, gasping for breath. The three other inhabitants of the room looked at him expectantly.

Once the young man caught his breath, he said, “The stables—”

And that was all that need be said. Rowan instantly jumped out of his seat, along with Philip, and both rushed for the door. They carefully pushed passed the boy and hurried down the hall. Halfway down it, Philip slipped on a puddle the dripping boy had made and ended up ramming his shoulder into the wall. Rowan spared him a glance before continuing down a flight of stairs.

Rowan couldn’t move fast enough through the great hall. He made his way to the large front doors, dodging other people moving as urgently as he. Outside of the house, the rain was pouring as if God Himself had split the clouds to allow it all passage. Within seconds, Rowan’s clothes were drenched and sticking to his body, and there was a chill seeping into his bones, but he didn’t care.

Standing on the stone steps, he looked around the courtyard before settling his gaze on the stables, or rather what was left of them. There was a fire ravaging the wood, which was splintered and already charred in places where no fire had touched it. The only thing Rowan could think of was that it had been struck by lightning, which would have caused the fire.

“God’s teeth,” he swore and jumped down the stone steps, running toward the stables as fast as he could. He nearly lost his footing in the mud a few times but did not let that deter him from his current objective: to save the horses.

Once standing close enough to be of use, a squire handed Rowan the reins of a horse. It was Philip’s horse. With a slight sigh of relief, Rowan walked the beast quickly away from the fire, trying his hardest to work with its fright. As soon as he could, he passed the horse to one of the men standing nearby him then returned to help more.

Before he could move too closely, the men that had been in the stables quickly ran out of it. Moments later, a beam from within collapsed, sending sparks flying. The fire grew uproariously, despite the pounding rain. In fact, the downpour only made it seem to grow larger as if it was some sort of fuel to the flames. The men around him swore at it.

“There’s still a boy in there!” someone shouted. It was a young squire, pointing to the fire-encompassed establishment.

As if that had been a cue, a thin scream of horror pierced the courtyard. It was most definitely coming from within the burning stables. Rowan swore to himself as he jumped forward. “Stay back!” he shouted to everyone else.

“My lord!” This was a woman’s voice shouting for him. Adalia.

Rowan paused for a split second, looking over his shoulder. His sister was on the front steps with Philip beside her. They were both motioning to him frantically to return. With a shake of his head, Rowan took another step forward, grimacing now from the heat of the flames. As he continued toward the stables, he saw movement from within. A moment later, he saw an ash-stained face of a young boy appear between two beams. He reached out his arm, even as he continued to clamber out of the stables. Rowan reached out for him as well.

Suddenly, a strange sensation passed over him. It started with his skin. A strange tingling made him quiver slightly. Then he began to burn. As he looked up, it became difficult to see. Quickly, he turned around to look at his sister and Philip. Adalia was screaming, but Rowan couldn’t hear her over the pulsing in his ears.

A moment later, everything before him was white. His chest began to ache with every beat of his heart. Before he could really understand what was happening, everything went dark.

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Present Day
A Port Town in Massachusetts

‘It was a dark, stormy night, and—’

“Aren’t they always?” Jennifer Sidnei rolled her eyes to herself as she mashed the backspace key with her pointer finger. In a matter of seconds, her computer screen was clear. “Dark stormy night this, dark stormy night that.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, mild disgust, and patronization as she replaced her hands on the keyboard.

‘Dark storm clouds covered the sky; lightning split them, pouring forth rain. It was a rain such as the villagers had never seen b—’

With a frustrated growl, Jennifer shoved her chair away from the desk and stood up quickly. Almost stomping, she crossed the room to stand in front of a large, wire cage. In the cage were multiple levels of platforms and a few plastic igloo-shaped coverings. A small, furry animal poked its pointed nose from one of the igloos. It blinked what was visible of its eyes sleepily. Jennifer carefully unhooked the wire door and reached in, placing her hand in front of the tired animal. It merely licked her fingers dutifully.

“Come on, you fur ball,” she said to the ferret. “You know you want out of the cage.” Jennifer wiggled her fingers a little. After a few moments, the creature stepped out of the igloo and scrunched into her palm. Jennifer brought the animal up to her shoulder, letting it perch there.

“I just can’t get it right.” She was walking toward the kitchen now, slightly less annoyed. “None of the words fit. What’s up with that? I mean, there’s only so many ways to describe a dark, stormy night.” When she spoke those last few words, she made quotations in the air to accentuate the point.

Finally, Jennifer stopped walking. She was in the center of the kitchen, staring out the dark window into the night. A large sigh made her shoulders sag a little. The ferret nuzzled closer to her neck, snuffling at her ear.

“Thanks, Will.” Idly, Jenn reached up to pet the furry animal. Still seeming rather distant, she walked over to the sink, placed her hands on either side of it, and then lowered her head. She looked a little dejected. “It’s just so frustrating. I have all these great ideas running around in my head like crazed, little bunnies, but that’s all they’re doing. It’s like they refuse to be written; they’re just there, taunting me…”

Pausing in her monologue to an animal that could or could not have been listening, Jennifer strode back into the living room. Will the ferret seemed to know what was coming, as he started moving the second Jenn started to lie on the couch. A moment or two later, Will was snuggled under her chin comfortably. Jenn quickly resumed her speech.

“It really sucks, too, because there’s this guy.” She rolled her eyes again when she caught herself. “That sounds a lot like Brandy, doesn’t it? Anyway. He’s perfect for this story, Will. He’s romantic, extremely smart, very well-spoken…handsome, of course,” she added when the ferret squeaked at her. “But not in the way that guy at the supermarket is; he’s just gorgeous. This guy—it takes a little bit to see it. He doesn’t have the perfect, chiseled features. He has flaws. Like, for instance, he broke his nose as a child. Since he wouldn’t let anyone set it for him, his nose is a little crooked. Then he has a few small scars on his face from the lists and whatnot. His hair is always messy, no matter what he does to it, and it’s this awkward color. It’s kind of like a dirty shade of blond, like it’s all grimy and hasn’t been washed for quite a while. But that’s not the case; he’s nobility, so he can bathe whenever he wants, which he does.

“But anyway. He seems really great.” Jennifer yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “But no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to write.” She paused, shut her eyes. “And why does it always have to be a dark, stormy night? Why can’t it be a nice, sunny day?”

And with that, Jennifer fell asleep, dreaming of a tall, handsome man with dirty blond hair and a crooked nose.

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The next morning, Jennifer woke without any outside influence. No irritating noises, no urgent call from nature, and most surprisingly, no Will the ferret chewing her fingertips because he needed his food bowl refilled. The house was peaceful, she actually felt relaxed, and Will was in his cage, chomping happily on something. After a quick yawn, Jenn sat up, wearing an intrigued expression. Was that coffee she smelled?

Gingerly, she padded into the kitchen—hadn’t she been wearing socks last night?—following the scent of fresh brewed coffee. There in the kitchen, standing in front of the coffee maker with his back to her, was he. His hair reached his broad shoulders in loose curls. What color was his hair? It was difficult to tell; one moment it was jet black, how it used to be, then the next moment it was a dirty shade of blond.

The moment Jennifer took a step forward into the kitchen, everything faded. Strangely, it was with a faint but audible ‘bang’. When she opened her eyes, it was still dark; she could barely make out the light fixture on the ceiling. A few moments went by, during which time a car drove passed the house, its headlights illuminating the room for a moment, before she sat up slowly. With a dismayed sigh, she rubbed her forehead. A headache was beginning to form behind her eyes.

Very reluctantly, Jenn looked at the digital clock on her desk. It read three-thirty in the morning. She had only slept for maybe twenty-five minutes, and now she felt less rested than before she had dozed off. Quietly, she muttered a curse as she started to move her socked feet to the floor. The second her toes touched the carpet, the phone began to ring. Loudly. Jenn reached forward to answer it with a groggy, “Hello.”

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

With another curse, Jennifer covered her face with one hand, still leaning over her knees. “Of course I’m awake; what else would I be doing at three-thirty in the morning?” she groused irritably.

Brandy was silent for a few moments, the only noise being the people in the background. “Can you do me a favor?” she asked.

Jenn sighed a little and nodded to herself. “Sure. What do you need?”

Again, Brandy was silent. “Can you come down to the hospital?” Her voice was hesitant as she spoke.

Catching onto that hesitance, Jenn sat up straighter. “Why?”

“There’s something I think you need to see.” Brandy coughed a little.

Rolling her eyes slightly, Jenn stood up, running her fingers through her hair. “Are you serious? It’s three-thirty in the morning and you want me to drive all the way across down? Because you think I need to see something?”

Brandy made an annoyed noise. “Can you just come in? You need to see this, okay? I need you to see this.” Then she sighed.

Jenn did the same, pulling in her anger. “Fine. I’ll be there in a little bit.” And with that, she hung up, groaning to herself. “Only three-thirty in the morning and I’m already running errands. Lovely.”

[LadyRiona]

Chapter 2

It was pushing four in the morning when Jennifer found it in herself to finally leave the house. Granted, Brandy had sounded very urgent on the phone, Jenn still had difficulty gathering the initiative to find out why. Despite Brandy being a resident in the emergency room, if it had been an emergency pertaining to their family, she would have said so, albeit in as few words as possible. Then Jennifer probably would have left the house, as is. Instead, because of too little information, the failing novelist took her time to find her comfortable shoes and change out of her rumpled shirt.

Driving at four in the morning was very different than four in the afternoon. One of the more obvious things was less traffic, since most people were asleep. In fact, Jenn was the only one on the road in her neighborhood, and on the highway that went into the city center. Another difference was the almost eerie quiet.

Jennifer lived in a port town in Massachusetts, a few hours south of Boston; her house was maybe twenty minutes from the hospital. The highway ran parallel to the coast. There was no lack of noise, definitely, but there was very little sign of life at this hour. If Jenn lowered her window, then she could hear the water against the embankments and the occasional lonely blare of a ship’s horn. Those noises alone were enough to make it rather disturbing, but Jenn didn’t mind. The loneliness of the road suited her mood of late.

With a sigh, Jenn slowed her car. She was a little more than ten minutes from her house now, considerably closer to the city center, so it wouldn’t have been so strange to have to slow at this point. Since it was four in the morning, however, Jenn found this an irritation. About a quarter-mile ahead of her was a set of flashing lights from utility vehicles. They were on the other side of the road from her as she passed, but Jenn still looked at what they were doing; there was no one else around for her to hold up, so why not?

It was difficult to tell what had happened since there were a handful of people in the way, but it looked like one of the transformers had blown. The metal around the thing was warped and bulging in places, and the grass around it was singed like there had been a small fire. This situation wasn’t so curious, except for the fact that there was a sheriff there, talking to the supervisor of the utility men. Why was the sheriff interested in a blown transformer? Jenn highly doubted it had been vandalized but that was entirely possible.

Shrugging it off as none of her business, Jen continued on to the hospital. A minute or two after passing the transformer, Jenn was at the first city block. There was suddenly more traffic around her. Street lights lit up the intersections; a few gas stations were open, but that was pretty much the extent of the life in down town at this time of night.

Jenn yawned as she pulled into the parking area of the hospital. It had a nice view of the port from two sides of the building. She’d always thought, standing in the parking lot of the hospital during a sunrise, it would make a very nice postcard. Add a few ships making berth, some clouds to soak up the color of the sun; plenty of people would buy it at the souvenir shops on vacation. Since Jenn had no skill with a camera whatsoever, she kept that thought to herself and left the photography to the professionals.

Inside the hospital was an entire world of difference from outside of it. Outside had been serene, calm, placid. Inside was a bustle of movement and energy. People were walking to and fro, some hurriedly and some not; the emergency room had a handful of nurses and doctors bustling around the large room. Jenn made her way to the reception desk, where the woman there was surprisingly idle. She was going through some papers at a leisurely pace and looked up only when Jenn tapped on the counter.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked politely, smiling.

Mentally, Jenn took a step backwards. The woman’s attitude was entirely different from what she would have expected from a hospital receptionist, especially when the people around her seemed at odds. “Uh, yeah. Brandy Sidnei called me earlier, said she’d be waiting in the staff lounge?” Jenn offered what she hoped was a smile to the woman; her smiles used to help her get anything she wanted.

“Oh yes. Brandy told me to be expecting you. Here, I already have your visitor’s pass written up for you.” The receptionist reached into the desk drawer and produced a small badge. She placed it and a marker on the counter. “Just sign at the bottom line, please. Do you know where the lounge is?”

Still slightly reeling from the exceptionally good attitude of the emergency room receptionist, Jenn struggled to write her name correctly on the badge. She gave a nod after finishing her name. “Yes. Down the hall, take a right, then the third left.” She tried to smile again, wearily, and walked off after returning the marker.

A few of the occupants of the emergency room looked at her oddly, some none too kindly since they probably assumed she was going straight back for treatment; Jenn ignored them. Instead, she shoved her hands in her pockets and began to whistle in an easy going manner.

When she reached the staff lounge, she knocked twice before entering. The inside was unoccupied. Jenn sighed and went into the room. After a moment’s hesitation, she went to one of the coffee machines and punched the button for a cappuccino. It probably wouldn’t be any good, but it might clear the fog in her brain. Or at least, that’s what she hoped.

Jenn had been sitting at the circular table in the lounge for just shy of an hour, doing nothing but drinking cappuccinos when Brandy stepped into the room, looking exhausted. She smiled slightly before going over to make her own cup of caffeine.

“Sorry to keep you waiting; I had just sat down in here when some DUI victims arrived,” she explained, leaning on the wall with her drink. “That wasn’t fun.”

With a shrug, Jenn finished off the last of her caffeine. “So what is this you need me to see?” she asked, standing.

Brandy, the sister with enough mettle to do her residency in an emergency room, who had always taken the heat for her younger siblings, actually squirmed uncomfortably. She averted her eyes to the floor and cleared her throat. “When was the last time you heard from Scott?” she asked.

Jenn flinched at the mention of her ex-fiancé. “Two years?” she said uncomfortably. “I think. Why?”

After clearing her throat, Brandy stepped toward the door. “You won’t believe me unless you see it, so just come with me, okay?”

More than hesitant and suspicious now, Jenn took her time to stand from the table and follow her elder sister. They walked out of the lounge and down the hall, around a few corners, and into the treatment area of the emergency room. They walked passed a few curtained sections before stopping in front of one. Brandy took a deep breath before pulling the curtain to one side. “Have a look.”

Sparing her sister an apprehensive glance, Jenn turned her head to the area behind the curtain. A small, hardly audible gasp escaped her. The man lying in the bed, unconscious, looked so familiar. He had curly hair that went down to his shoulders; his features were a little harsh but definitely handsome after a moment’s speculation. It took a moment but Jenn figured out why he was so familiar. Then she shook her head.

“That’s not Scott,” she said. “This guy looks like him, but he isn’t Scott.” She looked back at Brandy.

She just nodded. “That’s what I thought. Besides, look at what he was wearing.” She walked over to a box at the back of the section, next to the bed, and pulled out a highly ornate vest with one hand and what looked to be pants with the other, only the pants were more like puffy shorts. “He also had a sword, but that’s in another room. A sword! Unless Scott got into some weird reenactment group—”

Jenn shot her sister a look that silenced her. “If you thought that this wasn’t Scott, then why did you call me?” she asked. Her voice wasn’t as harsh as the question would have suggested; she sounded weary more than anything.

Brandy shrugged, putting the clothes back into the box neatly. “I wasn’t here when they first brought him in, I was finishing up in surgery, but the medics told me he said our last name. That’s why they assigned me to him,” she explained.

Trying to comprehend this, even though it was a small detail, Jenn tilted her head to one side. “Our last name. It isn’t that uncommon in these parts, you know. But anyway. Who is he?” she asked, taking a step into the curtained area, heading for the box.

“He didn’t have any ID. Just the weird clothes, his sword, and a belt with all kinds of pouches on it,” Brandy explained, doing a routine check on his vitals.

Jenn nodded her head a little as she went through the box. “It’s called a rapier, Brandy. It’s still a sword, but it’s thinner, lighter. More of a nobleman’s sword,” she explained after inspecting the belt.

Brandy looked at her in what Jenn would guess to be a quizzical sort of way. “How can you tell?”

Pushing up to stand once again, Jenn let out a sigh. “The straps on his belt. And his clothes.” She turned to look at him over her sister’s shoulder. There was a slight crook in his nose. His hair, she noticed now, was a dirty shade of blond. Why was he so familiar, other than the striking resemblance to Scott?

“And why do you say that?” Brandy wanted to know, putting the file chart back in the slot clipped to the bed.

“This guy must have been involved in a historical faire or something,” Jenn said, pushing her hands through her hair. “There’s only one around here, but I didn’t think it was for another few months.” She brought one hand close to her mouth, resisting the urge to bite her nails. “Weird.”

Brandy mimicked her pose, something they had developed as young children from their father, and looked the man over intently. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

Jenn, knowing she thought entirely too loud when around her sister, shrugged. “There’s something about him. He seems really familiar, and not because of the whole Scott thing.” She shuddered. “If that was it, I would have left already. There’s something else…” she trailed off into thought.

About a minute passed as Jenn worked the gears in her brain. Where had she seen this face before? There was no way it was Scott; there were obvious similarities, but no amount of facial reconstruction could have done the dissimilarities. Besides, this guy’s hair was naturally the dirty shade of blond, while Scott’s had been a natural jet black.

Dirty blond…

“Eh, whatever,” she said to herself, actually thinking aloud finally. “No ID?” Brandy made a noise of confirmation. “What are you going to do with him? I mean, once he’s clear to be released or whatever.”

From the corner of her vision, Jenn saw Brandy shift uncomfortably. “Well, we typically call the police to check the missing person’s database, and most of the time they take them in until someone ‘claims’ them, if they’re not a homeless person. I don’t know; usually with John and Jane Does, I don’t pay much attention once they’re gone. The government pays the medical bills, which in turn pays my bills, so I’m happy.” She shrugged.

“Claims them?” Jenn leaned her weight to one foot and began to bite her lip. “That sounds kind of…routine.” She frowned.

Brandy nodded. “Like I said, once they’re out of here, I really don’t know what happens. Why do you ask?”

Jenn furrowed her brows for a few moments. She really couldn’t place it, but she felt like she had some affinity, some connection with this man. He was too familiar seeming for her to completely shrug away and forget. Being a novelist, granted a one-time published and currently stricken by writer’s block one, Jenn loved puzzles. Well, this was a puzzle if she’d ever seen one. If she let the hospital call the police to take in the guy, she would probably never see him again. That was assuming someone actually did claim him.

With a sigh, Jenn pushed one hand through her hair. What to do…? She really wanted to figure out why he was so familiar to her, but it wasn’t like she could take him home with her…could she?

“Jenn?”

“What?” Jenn looked at Brandy. Her sister was standing beside a sheriff now. If she remembered right, that was the same sheriff who had been by the transformer earlier. What was he doing here?

Brandy cleared her throat. “Sorry to kick you out like this, but I need you to leave the area. The sheriff needs to ask me some questions about this J.D.” She offered a slightly apologetic smile.

Jenn nodded. “Sure, of course. Let’s do breakfast—or, dinner for you, as it were. Come over when you’re off shift. I need to talk to you about something.” She smiled a little, actually feeling it this time. No matter how bad her situation was, Jenn was always able to be happy about something around her sister.

“Sounds good. See you.”

And with that, Jenn made her way through the curtain partition and began to wander out of the hospital. It took her a little while, but she managed to find her way back to the reception area. There was a different receptionist at the desk now; she didn’t look happy. Jenn had a feeling she probably should turn in her visitor’s badge, but didn’t want to chance a bad encounter; that was something she didn’t really need. So very casually, she removed the badge, slipped it into her pocket, and then waltzed by the desk. She even dared to be so casual as to whistle quietly. No one looked up at her.

Wonderful.

In the car, Jenn sighed. It was a little unnerving now. The face of that man kept surfacing in her head, nagging at her. She knew she’d seen it before, somewhere, but where? She was positive he wasn’t a celebrity; Brandy would have recognized him. For being a resident, she watched a surprising amount of television at home, and still managed to sleep and eat somewhat healthily. At least, healthier than Jenn, who was at home all the time, living comfortably off of slowly dwindling money.

With a frustrated growl, Jenn shook her head to dispel the distracting thoughts. “Just drive home,” she told herself. “Drive home and maybe you can think about it there.”

[Ravendust]

So I've been too lazy/tired to reply until now, sorry XP. Anyway, I've read both chapters, and honestly- it's a fantastic story so far.

[Meluivan Indil]

Very interesting, hon. I hope you continue this.